#potential overstimulation warning

[saspitite]

ever wanted to listen to all of my songs at the exact same time? no? well too bad

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

[hoshifighting]

Ex Boyfriend! Seungcheol – Jealous! Seungcheol — Synopsis: Where after a company get-together, you meet your ex-boyfriend, who wants to make you jealous. He just doesn't expect that your friend Joshua is ready to help you too. — WC: 3.4k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, overstimulation, spit as lube, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), hair pulling, aftercare, eye contact, dirty talk and etc.

As you stepped into the office party, your heart raced. 

You hadn't seen Seungcheol since the breakup, and you had been avoiding him whenever possible–like working in the home office for weeks. But now, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by colleagues.

As you took a deep breath and plastered on a small smile, you noticed your friends Minji and Seokmin waving at you from a nearby table. You made your way over to them, grateful to have some familiar faces among the crowd.

"So good to see you!" Seokmin exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. "We were starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You huff and roll your eyes at Seokmin's remark, grumbling that you would rather be anywhere else. Seokmin and Minji exchange knowing glances as they catch sight of Seungcheol watching you from across the room.

Seokmin leans in, giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "He's still looking at you."

You grimace, trying to focus on your friends and the conversation at hand, but you can't help but feel his gaze burning into your back.

You continue chatting with your friends, but their constant glances over your shoulder start to draw your attention. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask them what's going on. However, they remain stubbornly silent.

Finally, you can't take it anymore and turn around to see what's caught their interest.

And there he is – Seungcheol, dancing with Eunji on the dance floor.

Your friends wait for your reaction, but they weren't expecting the sound of your laughter to echo through the room. 

You chuckle to yourself, finding the situation utterly ridiculous and amusing. Your friends exchange glances, not quite sure how to respond to your sudden outburst.

"Did you just laugh?" Seokmin asks in disbelief.

Minji looks shocked at your reaction, wondering if you've lost your sanity or if this is all some elaborate joke.

As you continue laughing uncontrollably, you manage to sputter out a revelation between giggles.

"Guys," you whisper to Seokmin and Minji, "Eunji likes girls. Remember when she tried to ask me out?"

Minji and Seokmin exchange disbelieving glances, their jaws dropping open. "Wait, what?" Seokmin stutters.

You nod, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Yep. She asked me out once, and I had to turn her down because I was with Seungcheol - secretly, of course."

You chuckle to yourself, realizing that Eunji isn't interested in Seungcheol at all.

As you laugh and share the joke with Seokmin and Minji, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You turn around to find Joshua standing there, a curious smile on his face.

"What's so funny?" he asks, genuinely curious about the laughter coming from your small group.

As you try to stifle your laughter, a mischievous idea suddenly sparks to life in your mind, like a light bulb flickering to life. You look up at Joshua, a hint of playful glint in your eyes.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, but before he can inquire further, you chime in with a question of your own.

"Hey, how come you're not dancing with anyone? Got any secret dance moves tucked up your sleeves?"

Joshua grins and stretches out his hand to lead you to the dance floor. You share a knowing wink with Seokmin and Minji, who smile incredulously, sensing the potential entertainment ahead.

As you accept his offer and step onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, and your bodies effortlessly start to move in sync.

Joshua leans in, a mischievous smile on his lips, and whispers, "I know what you're up to. Are you making Seungcheol jealous?" 

"Do you intend to be my partner in crime for the night?" You ask sly.

"I'm all in." he assures you while chuckling. "I'll not only play along, but I'll even offer to take you home."

As you and Joshua lean in close together, discussing your plan, Seungcheol can't help but notice your proximity. The sight fuels his jealousy, and his fingernails dig into his palms, a subtle sign of his frustration.

As the night progressed, you found yourself at the bar, nursing a drink and enjoying the company of Joshua. The alcohol loosens your inhibitions, and you relish in the newfound friendship. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, consumed by jealousy, ignores the colleagues attempting to engage him in conversation, his gaze occasionally flicking towards you and Joshua.

As you follow Joshua towards the garage, you can feel Seungcheol's gaze burning into your back. He watches you both step into the grey car, and his resentment simmers beneath the surface. Every detail, from the grey car to your black dress, infuriates him. He clenches his fists tightly, hating everything about the situation, but most of all, he blames himself for letting you go.

As Seungcheol's mind raced with worry and speculation, he tormenting himself with the possibilities of what you were doing in that car with Joshua. Were you at the other man's home, or were you in the familiar surroundings of the home he knew so well? Had you kissed him, or even more?

The thought of it all drove him mad, and he could do nothing but pace around, trying to find a way to calm himself down and think straight.

Despite Seungcheol's torturous thoughts, the reality was much more mundane. After dancing and drinking together all night, Joshua had kindly offered to take you home. He left you off safely at your doorstep, and you went to bed with a blissfully empty head.

As you sat on the couch the next morning, sipping your cup of tea and idly watching a show on TV, you heard a sharp knock at the door. 

Surprised, you set down your tea and padded barefoot towards the door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat. 

Standing there, looking disheveled and tired, was Seungcheol. His hair was tousled, and his eyes bore a look of exhaustion, but there was something different about him now. This time, he wasn't here with a box in hand. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and full of unspoken words.

As Seungcheol stepped into your home, his fingers firmly grasping your shoulder, he subjected you to a silent analysis. His eyes skimmed over your appearance, taking in the absence of hickeys on your neck, the tangle-free state of your hair, and the adorable pajama set decorated with cats – a favorite of yours when you slept alone.

"Where's he?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air.

You cross your arms, arching an eyebrow and responding with a question of your own "What are you doing here, Seungcheol?" He shuts the door behind him as you await his answer.

Seungcheol takes a breath, his gaze never wavering from your face. "Do you have any idea what you put me through last night?" he asks, his voice low. "Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Joshua all night?"

"Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Eunji all night?" You repeat.

You felt nothing more than pity that his little theatrics had lost its appeal too soon for you.

Seungcheol scoffs. "You're throwing that back at me? Really?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. 

Despite your nonchalant manner, there was a hint of satisfaction in your eyes, knowing your performance had been more authentic than his.

His face twists into a frown, realizing that his attempt to make you jealous had backfired. "I watched you all night, seeing you dancing with Joshua. I thought –“ he starts, but you cut him off. 

"What did you think?" you ask, your voice cold. "That I would come running back to you like a loyal dog? That I'd be so devastated by your display with Eunji that I'd run back into your arms?"

"You're different." The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard, making you wonder what he meant. He continues, "Last time, you cried and clung to me, begging me not to leave you, but now...  now, you're standing here, cold and indifferent, like you never loved me at all." "I don't understand," he murmurs. "How can you be so cold... so detached, after everything we had?"

"Everything we had?" you echo, a hint of disbelief in your voice. "Seungcheol, at some point, you'd rather hole up in your office all day than be with me." 

"I broke up with you because I thought it would be better for you," he admits softly. "I couldn't provide you with the attention and time you deserved, and I thought ending it was the right thing to do."

A hint of irritation creeps into your voice as you reply, "And now you're here because I was enjoying myself with someone else?"

"Enjoying with... Someone else." His eyes darken, and you can see the flicker of possessive anger sparking within him at the mere mention of your time with someone else.

"Did you come here just because you can't handle the idea of me fucking with Joshua?" 

The words have barely left your lips when he suddenly slams your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with yours as his lips hover barely an inch from yours.

Seungcheol's breath is uneven as he speaks, his voice a low, husky tone. "I... couldn't bear the thought of you doing that–" he admits, his fingers curling fiercely into the fabric of your clothes. "with him."

The words trail off as he can no longer resist the magnetic pull between you, and he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Seungcheol deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, as if trying to make up for lost time. He missed every inch of you, from the taste of your lips to the way you sighed in his arms. 

Even the familiar scent of your house and the sound of your voice sent jolts of longing and nostalgia coursing through him. He needed to experience all of you, every aspect he'd been craving for so long.

Seungcheol swiftly bends you over the arm of the sofa, the urgency in his actions evident. You can hear the sound of his belt being undone, the click of the buckle echoing through the room. His movements are rough and impatient, consumed by the overpowering desire he feels for you.

He yanks down your shorts and panties in one swift motion, the fabric pooling on the ground. You hear him spit, the warm line of saliva landing on your pussy, making you squirm. Seungcheol's grip on your arm tightens as he holds it behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Stay still," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You can feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he lines himself up with you, his breath ragged with need.

Without any more warning, Seungcheol thrusts into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but gasp, your fingers digging into the arm of the sofa. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, every inch of him stretching you deliciously.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Seungcheol groans, his voice laced with pleasure.

He begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, hitting you in all the right places. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and the moisty sounds of your wet cunt, fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his moans. His free hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

In that position, you could feel Seungcheol hitting that sweet spot again and again. The angle was perfect, and each thrust made you see stars. You sobbed against the couch, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

Seungcheol's lips brushed against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "I always find it, don't I?" he brags, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "Doesn't matter the time, the position... I always find it."

You can only respond with strangled moans. Every single thrust is so sharp, so deep, you feel like you're being split in half. Your walls clench around him involuntarily, heightening the sensation for both of you.

"Fuck, fuck," you stutter, your voice barely more than a whimper. "fuck this pussy... ughh, it's so good, please don't stop!"

Seungcheol pulls you by your hair, making you moan through gritted teeth. His chest presses against your back, the position making it difficult for you to moan loudly. His other hand flickers over your clit, his fingers moving so fast that your mind goes blank. Your legs quiver pathetically, unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure.

The intensity of his touch, combined with the relentless thrusting, sends you spiraling into anr orgasm. Your body convulses with pleasure, your walls clamping down around him as you scream his name. Seungcheol groans, feeling your tightness increase, driving him to the edge.

"That's it," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Cum for me. I want to feel you creaming around this cock."

And you do. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Seungcheol wasn’t done with you yet. Just as you thought you couldn’t handle any more, he flipped you around. Your hips rested on the arm of the sofa while your upper body collapsed onto the cushions, leaving you in an awkward, yet perfect position for him. He knelt down, his face level with your dripping core.

You screamed from the sensitivity, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. But Seungcheol held you still, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth latched onto your clit greedily, sucking and licking with fervor. The sensation was overwhelming, your body convulsing with each flick of his tongue.

“Seungcheol, please,” you whimpered, the overstimulation making you tremble. Your legs quivered, desperate to close, but his strong hands kept them apart.

He was relentless, his tongue swirling under the hood of your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You arched your back, pushing your hips against his mouth, needing more even as you felt like you were about to break.

His mouth was sloppy and wet, every movement precise and determined. You clenched around nothing, your body aching to be filled again, but he was focused on driving you over the edge with just his mouth. The intensity was too much, and you felt another orgasm building quickly.

“Fuck, Seungcheol,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "G-good! Yes, yes, yes!" 

He didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. Your cries grew louder, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure became too much to bear. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the sensations he was giving you.

With a final, powerful suck, you shattered. Your body convulsed, a scream ripping from your throat as you came hard, your legs clamping around his head despite his attempts to hold them still. Seungcheol drank you in, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were left trembling and breathless.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. 

Seungcheol moved, positioning himself above you, his heavy cock resting on your belly. The weight of it making you gasp, anticipation bubbling up inside you. He began to stroke himself, his hand moving up and down his slick, creamy shaft. The wet noises filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, watching every move he made.

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to touch himself, his hand moving faster. His mouth opened, releasing the filthiest moans you’d ever heard, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could see the raw pleasure on his face, the way his body tensed and relaxed with each stroke.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just like that. Keep looking at me.”

You did, your eyes never leaving his, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, was almost enough to push you over the edge again. You could see every detail – the way his muscles tightened, the way his cock pulsed in his hand, the way his mouth fell open as he moaned your name.

His hand moved faster, the sounds growing louder, wetter. You could feel his cock twitching against your skin, and you knew he was close. The sight of him, so vulnerable and raw, was almost too much to bear. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you could see the moment he reached his peak. His body tensed, his hand moving erratically as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling onto your belly. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you intense and unbroken.

Seungcheol's eyes fluttered closed as he stood still, his chest heaving as he regulated his breath. You watched him, feeling the warmth and intimacy of the moment settle over you like a soft blanket. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you with a tender, almost reverent expression.

Gently, he reached out and lifted you, his strong arms cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable before he began to carry you towards the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. He always insisted on aftercare, claiming it was essential, and you couldn’t agree more. It was these moments of tenderness and care that made you feel cherished and safe.

As he carried you, you nestled your head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby. The bathroom light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungcheol set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let go.

He turned on the tap, adjusting the water temperature before filling a soft washcloth with warm, soapy water. Kneeling in front of you, he began to clean you with gentle, meticulous care, his touch light and reassuring. The warm water and his soothing touch eased the lingering tension from your body, leaving you feeling relaxed and cared for.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "More than okay."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good."

As he continued to clean you, his movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke of the washcloth a reminder of how much he cared for you. When he was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you into a soft, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you with the same tender care he had shown throughout.

Seungcheol then quickly cleaned himself up before guiding you back to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and helped you into bed, tucking the blanket around you before sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As you lay in Seungcheol's arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the events of the evening, you felt safe and loved in his embrace, and for now, that was enough.

You murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "We'll talk when we wake up, okay?"

Seungcheol tightened his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Okay," he agreed, his voice filled with understanding.

With that silent agreement, you both drifted off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of each other's presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

However, as the afternoon grows, the sounds from the city echoes, disturbing the quiet stillness of the room, your phone buzzes softly on the bedside table, jolting you awake. You reached for it groggily, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you squinted at the screen.

It was a message from Joshua.

"Did it work?" he asked, his words tinged with curiosity.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you typed out your response.

"It worked." 

[noveauskull]

How Male WUWA Character's React When They Smell Another Man's Perfume/Cologne On You! (NSFW)

characters: scar, jiyan, mortefi, calcharo, aalto, yuanwu, geshu lin x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, fem x male, prank, clit play, overstimulation, ideas of cheating, penetration (piv), tied up, mating press, punishment, passing out, hurting their feelings, dick riding, oral (m! receiving), spanking, wall fucking, use of toys, anal, biting, hickeys, throat fucking, clips on nipples and clit, apologies from the men

-----

SCAR:

You'd regret playing a prank on him immediately. Scar has a very sharp nose so when you come back home smelling like another man he doesn't say anything for a bit, he just stares at you waiting for an explanation.

Though the explanation had to wait until it was midnight and you were on your bed, wrists tied with a belt on the headboard and a vibrator pressed onto your clit, no foreplay whatsoever as he sits in front of you, fingers holding the vibrator with his legs crossed and another hand holding his head up, his eyes burning into yours. He hasn't smiled once ever since you came back.

When he finally asks you about the smell, you said that you had no idea what he was talking about, which made him more pissed, so he made you cum on the vibrator 4 to 6 times until your juices were dripping all over his fingers and palm.

You could tell despite being overstimulated it wasn't over, cause then he started pulling his pants down, not off, but down enough to reveal his hard cock, he cusses at how he still gets hard to you even though you're a potential cheater.

He'd have his cock punching into your cervix with every thrust, and he has a lot of stamina. At one point you can see the last shred of sanity in his eyes blink away as he pushes your knees onto your shoulders and hovers above you, putting you in a matting press when he keeps fucking you raw.

You'd finally surrender and give up when you started to notice you were gonna pass out real soon, the sun was starting to come up too, so you muster up the last bit of energy you had to tell him without babbling that it was a prank before completely shutting down.

The last thing you'd see is Scar's angry face turning to a shocked face before you passed out.

When you wake up in the afternoon, your wrists were no longer tied, the between of your legs are clean with none of yours or his juices left, you had a white oversized shirt on, and you can smell something delicious outside.

Scar would have came in a few minutes later with a big sheepish smile, wearing an apron and holding a plate of food for lunch as he apologizes to you.

"Damn. Sorry babe, I didn't know you had it in you to make a prank this good. I'll make it up to you, 'kay?"

-----

JIYAN:

He'd be incredibly disappointed that he doesn't smell your usual scent immediately, so he asks you why did you come home smelling like a another man. He would try to be very understanding with you but his patience is replaced with hurt when you tell him that you don't smell anything different about yourself.

He would come to the conclusion that you were cheating on him. You'd keep pretending like you had no idea what he was so silent about. When you initiated you two have sex like always he would comply, but compared to his usual sweet and gentle behavior, its replaced with something more meaner.

First he would tell you he wanted you to suck his dick off. He wasn't asking you like how he usually would, he was ordering you to do it, and you knowing what you did, you listened to him and did it without any questions.

He'd say "this felt better before today" and fuck his cock into your throat to make you swallow every last bit of his cum, even though usually he would cum outside of your mouth unless you asked for it inside.

You would have to be on top of him and thrusting his dick inside you instead of him just straight up pounding you until you were satisfied like always, and when you finally came, he would force you to keep going, if you didn't, he'd smack your ass until your cheeks went red.

This would go on until your legs were shaking, his slaps were very powerful, so everytime you bounce on his cock you'd falter when your sensitive red cheeks touch his thighs and you'd accidentally have his cock piercing to your cervix.

When he sees your movements getting weak, he stares at you with hooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from the bed to carry you and press your back against the wall, then fucking you so hard and deep you couldn't even let out a noise.

Your eyes would be rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth would be hung open with no sign of shutting. Your body would be twitching uncontrollably from all the crazy thrusts Jiyan is forcing you to take.

When he made you cum 3 times on the wall before putting you back onto the bed and fucking you again in doggy style, you had to force yourself to confess that you were just pranking him, to which all his movements would stop and he'd pick you up to make you face his shocked face.

While your pussy was still twitching and gaping from the shape you had to take for the past 5 hours, Jiyan eventually apologizes as he caresses your back while your head is laying lifelessly on his shoulder.

"Of course this was a prank... I'm so stupid, would you forgive me for acting so harshly?"

-----

MORTEFI:

He'd ignore the smell at first. You'd know that he isn't the type to jump into conclusions so you had to tell him about your day, how happy you were to have made a new friend and how he was super nice to you, making sure you didn't leave out on how touchy that new friend of yours was.

The longer you kept going the more he counted on the times he'd have to make you cum in bed, to which, you seemed to have exceeded over 10 times now.

When it was time to sleep, he'd have you thinking that he wouldn't do anything to you, so you believed his little act and slept for the night, only to wake up in the middle of the night with your hands tied to your back, face smooshed against your pillow with your mouth covered with a cloth and a vibrating dildo deep into your pussy, including an anal plug inside you all at once.

He'd have you squirming as much as you can but eventually you'd stop squirming just to twitch and shake because you'd cum shortly after. When you're at your 5th orgasm that's when he removes the anal plug inside you to shove his cock in.

For the entire night he wouldn't let you make a single noise, constantly smacking your ass and using your hole for his own pleasure, when he finally felt like he was finished that's when he removes the cloth on your mouth to let you speak, and that's when you tell him that it was a prank.

He'd feel incredibly embarassed and sorry that he treated you so roughly, you better expect top tier treatment from him for the rest of the week, but don't forget, this all wouldn't have happened if you hadn't played that stupid prank on him.

"You drive me insane sometimes, you know that?"

-----

CALCHARO:

NEVER underestimate this man's nose, he could smell your scent from a mile away. So when he smells someone else coming inside his house he's very alarmed, even more alarmed when he finds out that it was you this whole time.

He wouldn't even say a simple hi or even ask what the smell was, he would just grab you without letting you settle down and throw you onto the bed. He never lets you take even a moment to say anything to him as he's ripping, and I mean literally, ripping your clothes off your body.

Calcharo would order you to not move an inch while you're naked on the bed, before he leans in to your neck and sniffs you again. The smell would still be there and that made him want to bite you, so that's what he does, he bites on you all over and leaves marks in every single part of your body.

He's very mad, but he has to confirm if that part of yours has been used yet or not. So he pulls down his pants and he jerks off at your naked body in front of him. If you confessed that you had cheated on him the very least he wanted to do was to make it known that you had always belonged to him before letting yourself get fucked by another man.

Once his cum was all over your face, he uses his hand to wipe some cum onto him and palm your pussy, he may be mad but he's not mean enough to penetrate you without prep. Once your pussy was pooling with your juices that's when he breaks into your hole with his cock, in one harsh movement too, at the same moment he put his cock in he's already thrusting gigantic movements into you.

He'd have you crying and screaming by how fast and powerful his thrusts were. His hands holding onto the back of your knees as he uses your hole like a toy, you felt both pain and pleasure all at once, and he's already made you cum more than 5 times, switching to your ass and mouth from time to time making it more than 5 times since he came. And all your holes were being violated.

Everything had to end when you started to feel lightheaded, even though you had begged him to stop just so you could breathe, he never did stop, and it was really hard for you to tell him that it was all a prank.

So what you did was grab him by the hair as roughly as you can and yank it to your face, choking out the words "It's a prank" before you pass out completely, when you finally woke up, you see Calcharo sitting next to you with his hands on his head, feeling sorry for using you like a doll.

"Don't ever do that again, I don't want to hurt you over something like this ever. Idiot."

-----

AALTO:

He looks at you and says "Nuh uh, we are not doing this" when he smells another man on you. To which you act oblivious and shrug at his questions, but he's clearly not taking your shit.

For a bit, he analyzes the way you moved around the house, especially when you were on your phone texting to god know's who while giggling, when you do that, that's what makes him lose his patience.

He doesn't even bother checking who you were texting and throws your phone across the room. When you yell at him for throwing away something so fragile he just grabs your wrist and twists it to your back, now your ass was right at where his crotch was and your arm was in an uncomfortable position.

Aalto doesn't plan on keeping you on that position forever, so he grabs both your arms behind your back and presses your back against his chest while holding you.

He'd tease you while asking you questions, his hand would slip inside your pants and play with your clit. He's trying his best to remain calm with you since he knows that if he lets his mind win he would leave you so broken with his cum oozing out of you, so he edges you. 10 minutes turning to 30, 30 minutes turning to an hour, and an hour turning to 2 hours, and he's still teasing your clit.

He doesn't even bother removing your pants or underwear for you, he is literally making you soak your underwear and pants like it's been at the washing machine, no matter how much you beg him for release he wont give it to you until you tell him what actually happened and if you really did cheated on him.

And ding! Aalto wins, you can't bear to not get your release, so you admit to him that you were just pranking him. He'll smile at you and give you a kiss on the forehead before pulling down your pants, revealing a pool of your juices. There was so much juices that you two could fuck hours and hours on end.

He rewards your honesty by shoving his cock inside you and fucking you until you got as many orgasms as you wanted while planting you kisses all over. Smiling at you as you get your 3rd orgasm from his cock.

"I knew you'd never cheat on me, this is why you should leave the pranks to me instead"

-----

YUANWU:

He doesn't jump into conclusions, instead, he lets you settle down and rest before he asks you if you were using another perfume, and when you say no, that's when he asks if you were out with someone. When your response is "Oh, how did you know?", he'd simply ask you who you had been out with, but you didn't want to answer him. Hearing you respond like that shifts something in him a bit.

Next thing you know he has you bend over his lap, ass sticking out on one side while your face stuffed on the bed in the other, he smacks his hand on your ass in one moment before he fingers your wet pussy until you feel like your close, only to stop again just to smack your ass.

He keeps doing this until he hears an answer from you, but you were quite stubborn, and that was fine. Yuanwu knows exactly how to deal with you, so he keeps going. Everytime you try to push your hips back into his fingers he just spanks your ass, leaving it red all over.

When you finally gave up on begging him to stop and told him that you were just pranking him, he immediately has you sit on his lap while he rubs your asscheeks in a way to comfort the stinging pain he created, head on yours as he smiles at you, it seemed he knew that it was a prank, he just didn't like that you withheld information from him.

Before he lets you go, he rewards you by letting you cum on his fingers while kissing him to muffle your cries, at the same time caressing your red ass cheeks leaving you feel incredibly spoiled. His actions making you never want to lie to him ever again.

He gives you one last tiny smack on your pussy as a little punishment for the silly prank you played on him with a smile.

"You're so cute when you try to act sly, princess. But I hope this makes you realize it will never work on me"

-----

GESHU LIN:

Disappointed, angry and betrayed. He is definitely not letting you go until you explain yourself. He'd have you kneeling while he makes you suck his cock, having a vibrator not inside your pussy, but in your ass. He makes you swallow his cum for around 3 times, making your stomach full and your throat throb when he finally frees his cock from you.

He'll ask you why you smelled like a man, but a little throat fucking and anal won't make you confess so easily, so he plays your game, and goes completely insane.

He's leaving marks all over your body while punching your cervix with his cock behind you, never giving you a single moment to breathe, your nipples were being pinched by the clips he used on you, the clips having chains that connect on your clit, sometimes he would tug it making you scream in pain before he hits your spot to replace your scream with a delicious moan.

When using the clips on your nipples felt a little boring to him, he would move to the clip that was on your clit and make the clip shake with every rhythm in his thrust, all while the vibrator was still in your ass, having so many sensations at once makes you drool as tears roll down your cheeks.

You'd hear him cuss at you and call you a slut, asking if the man you were with could fuck you the same way he does. That's when you remember why you were getting roughly fucked for, so you immediately confessed that you never met any man at all.

You'd think he would stop, but no, he keeps going until he was satisfied. He's happy that you confessed to never meeting any other man but him, but that doesn't mean he won't punish you for playing such a dirty prank on him.

He'd unclip the clip on your clit before using his wet fingers that he used on his mouth to force an orgasm out of you so that you would cum at the same time as him, and when you finally do, you'd fall onto the bed passed out, while Geshu Lin is panting and wiping the sweat off his chin.

"This will remind you to never play such games with me ever again"

-----

A/N: NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED FOR SMUT! SCAR AND GESHU LIN!! I was gonna add male rover but i ain't even gonna lie guys, im so tired I HAVENT EVEN LOGGED INTO WUWA TODAY IM CRYING

please enjoy this crumb i left for you all hungry beasts as i go farm convenes for Jiyan, HE HAS TO COME HOME!!!!!

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they eat you out

SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.

TAGLIST: @xhakumeix

A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!

BANG CHAN

Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.

However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.

“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”

-

MINHO

Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.

He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.

“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”

-

CHANGBIN

Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.

“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.

-

HYUNJIN

Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.

His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.

“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”

-

JISUNG

Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.

If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.

“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”

-

FELIX

Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.

He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.

“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”

-

SEUNGMIN

Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.

But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”

-

JEONGIN

Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.

He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.

“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

SYNOPSIS: You and Lee Heeseung are pursuing the same major, and the two of you have always been the top students in your cohort throughout your university years. Although you have never exactly interacted with him, sometimes you catch him staring at you, and the intensity of his gaze is enough to knock the breath out of you. After being heavily involved with his comrades, you should be staying away from him, you should be avoiding him at all costs, and yet, in your vulnerable state, including the lust clouding your better judgement, you fall for his dark allure, allowing him to breach through the walls that you built to protect yourself from them.

PAIRING: lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 35.8k

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, assault, mild violence, profanities, yandere, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, dubcon theme, smut.

PLAYLIST: Infected - Sickick, Triggered - Chase Atlantic, Okay - Chase Atlantic, House of Ballons - The Weeknd, Lights Down Low - Maejor, Wet the bed - Chris Brown, Under the influence - Chris Brown, Drive You Insane - Daniel Di Angelo, Talk Dirty - Daniel Di Angelo, So It Goes - Taylor Swift, Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey.

PREV (PART 4) | NEXT (PART 6.1) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

✧*̥˚ HEESEUNG'S MOODBOARD *̥˚✧

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), mean&softdom!hee (he’s unpredictable), name calling (slut, sweetheart, pretty, baby), manhandling, degradation, car sex, slight bondage, gagging, choking, dry humping, blowjob, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

The radiance deriving from the moonlight casts a gentle glow in the room, allowing him to gaze upon the beautiful serenity on your face as he remains stationary by the window sill with his folded arms across his chest, ostensibly posing as a bodyguard to obviate any danger from reaching you.

Danger? The lovely irony elicits a lowly scoff from him, yet the corner of his lips curves upward into a smirk. Indeed, it is lovely, because there is a potential danger at this very moment that could inflict harm on you as you have fallen into the realm of dreams, rendering you wholly vulnerable and defenceless.

The embodiment of danger ─ Lee Heeseung.

Fortunately for you, Heeseung has no intention of harming you, not that he ever had. A single movement from you as you stir lightly in your slumber captures his keen eyes, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest before re-centering his attention on your angelic face. 

Without a doubt, your divine beauty captivated his attention from the moment he saw you entering the auditorium on your first day as a freshman, and still do ─ your naturally long dark lashes fluttering with your eyes gleaming genuine interest whenever your attention is fixed on something or someone, the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile, your luscious pink lips that entice him to kiss you, your soft wavy hair that is currently spread out in tendrils-like, and just every inch and part of your contour is perfect to him.

You are perfect in his eyes. So, so perfect, and so his…

In the beginning, it started out as an infatuation, completely ensnared by your captivating beauty and the regal ambience you exuded in the way you carried yourself with grace, while his eyes would follow you wherever you were in his range. He even vividly memorised your habits, which he found endearing, like how you would fiddle with the silver cross and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth whenever you grew nervous or simply worried over your results, and nevertheless, he knew that you would always excel.

You are the epitome of beauty with a brain, as you truly are. Oh, you are unequivocally his dream woman.

Unlike his peers, Heeseung has never found any issue with your reputation as Crestview Meadow’s good girl or renowned for being faithful and dutiful to your religion. Rather, he loves the purity glowing in the way you smile, your sparkling eyes, your infectious laughter, your gentle touch, and just anything you do.

From there, the infatuation evolved into something so profound that he knew he couldn’t afford to let you go, even after graduating from university. He yearns for his presence to be permanently etched in your life. He is not exaggerating when he says that all hell will break loose if he ever loses you. No, he feels that he might actually die at the grim possibility of losing you.

To this day, it astounds him that he manages to abstain from pursuing you first after all these years of his yearning and lust for you, especially when the light in you is a constant magnetic allure to his darkness. Even now, a gravitational pull seems to draw him closer and closer to you until he finally halts his steps, looming over you next to the bed.

Heeseung crouches down on one knee, his eyes remaining fixated on your serene countenance as he grabs strands of your hair that feel soft on his callous hand. His touch is one of reverence as he raises your strands in his possession to his nose, inbreathing the fragrance of your shampoo with his eyes fluttering close.

Even your scent is enough to tame his raging tenebrosity. Bringing your soft strands to his lips as he kisses them daintily, a distinct recollection comes to light ─ one that has the darkness perilously lurking in the trenches of his wreckage mind.

“Have you called for me, father?”

Heeseung has his hands clasped behind his back while his cold countenance is impassive and his stance embodies that of a soldier ready to serve, standing across from his father, who remains seated in his ebony swivel chair.

“Yes.” The elder ceases his engrossment in the paperwork before he finally diverts his attention to his youngest son, meeting Heeseung’s steely eyes that reflect the same as his. “I heard that Devil’s Night will commence in a few days' time. How is the preparation coming along?”

“Everything is going smoothly. You don’t have to concern yourself with anything regarding Devil’s Night, father.” A certain edge in Heeseung’s tone is not dismissed by the elder, amplifying the palpable tension between them. “As for the roadblocks, we might have to expand─”

“Son.” The sheer authority of a single interruption is enough to silence Heeseung, especially when he notices his father’s grim countenance. “The sole reason I called you here is because of Y/N Kang.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows arch inquisitively while his frown deepens at the fact that his father knows of your existence. “How do you know her?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know her.” His father dodges the question deftly, overshadowed by the austerity in his manner. “Under no circumstances should you approach the girl, let alone foist terror on her.”

Heeseung blinks his eyes, clearly taken aback by the elder’s fierce conviction. “All this time, you have never interfered in any of my business, so why now?”

Heeseung’s father heaves a sigh as he rubs his temple. “Son─”

“For that matter, you’ve never cared enough about me. I don’t see why it is necessary for you to involve yourself in whatever I do now.” Heeseung cuts him off sharply before he scoffs out a smirk, staring at him condescendingly. “And now that you’ve mentioned Y/N Kang, perhaps I should invite her to Devil’s Night and include her in the hunt.”

“Lee Heeseung!” The resounding thud due to both palms on the surface of the mahogany table as well as the patent wrath emanating from the elder doesn’t deter Heeseung the slightest, but rather, this only fuels Heeseung’s resolution to go against his father’s audacious warning.

“Do enlighten me, father.” Mockery drips from Heeseung’s tone. “What relations do you have with Y/N? And why her out of all people?”

The fleeting sentiment flickers in his father’s eyes are intelligible, to which Heeseung’s piqued curiosity reaches its peak. Why in the world would his father bear such guilt?

“She’s the daughter of─” His father pauses, and the hesitation in his silence is crystal clear. He shakes his head before allowing the austerity to patch up on his countenance. “This is a direct order, not only as your father but as the chief, that under no circumstances should you prey on Y/N Kang. She is better off without you having to impose your corruption on her.”

“Oh, but on the contrary, I will.” Heeseung unfurls a cynical smile on his lips, his tone holding dark promises that not even his father can decipher the conniving schemes he may or may not possibly have formulated in his complex mind. “Even if you hadn’t mentioned her, it wouldn’t change the fact that she would eventually be preyed on by us. Oh, and father?”

Heeseung looms ominously over his father’s seated figure, his dark gaze penetrating into the elder’s, allowing him to catch a glimpse of unadulterated malignance in his eyes. “I’ll turn a blind eye to your audacity in ordering me to stay away from my beloved, since after all, you’re my father.”

“Lee Heeseung─”

“Y/N Kang belongs to me.” Heeseung cuts him off with a growl. “She will be mine, one way or another, and it would be wise for you to avoid meddling with my business, especially involving my beloved.”

“Son, listen to me.” Even as his father uses his authoritarian tone, it isn’t enough to dissuade Heeseung as the latter begins to make his departure from his father’s office, leaving the elder to resort to an option that is rather perilous. “Fine. Do you really want to know the reason? It’s because I’d hate for Y/N to end up like that poor girl.”

Just as the elder expected, Heeseung comes to an abrupt halt, his body flinches visibly as though a trigger button has set off within him. “What?” His tone denotes a warning, akin to a ticking bomb.

His father heaves a deep sigh as he rises from his seat. “This is the exact same pattern as it was before. Did you or did you not develop an obsession for the girl just as you do now with Y/N? Feel free to prove me wrong.”

Heeseung curls his hand into a fist while the other clutches the handle in a deadly grip. “You’re wrong, father.”

“Am I, really? As far as I’m aware, things won’t ever bode well for anyone closely associated with you and your friends.”

“Shut up.” Heeseung snarls coldly, the anger is brimming in his veins. “You know nothing.”

But the elder continues, “Can’t you see, son? For as long as you remain unchanged with your corruptive tendencies, you destroy everything you touch! Just look at what happened three years ag─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung swiftly throws the melee knife as it cuts through the air sharply, gusting past his father’s head and impaling on the bulletin board behind the elder.

Despite his father having expected such unpredictable stunts from his son, his heart hammers violently against his chest. If Heeseung had missed, the elder would have probably lost an eye.

“You know better than to bring that up.” Heeseung’s dark eyes are void of any forbearance, while his tone is eerily calm. His eyes flicker at his melee knife before returning to his father’s unwavering gaze, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “And next time, I won’t miss it.”

Even the mere thought of his father is enough to kindle his burning resentment towards him. Oh, Heeseung loathes his father for as long as he can remember.

Despite the fact that his father has an esteemed reputation as the Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, almost everyone is fearful of him purely out of reverence, well, except Heeseung anyway.

To Heeseung, he sees his father as nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a husband to his wife. Correction: ex-wife, aka Heeseung’s biological mother. His parents divorced and went their separate ways when he was twelve, and his older brothers were sixteen. His father won custody over them, resulting in his mother leaving them behind. At that point in time, Heeseung didn’t understand the rationale behind their divorce since his parents used to be a loving couple, and so he began to develop such abhorrence for his father, especially when the elder decided to marry someone new a few months later.

Most importantly, Heeseung loathes that his father’s morality and advocacy do nothing to change the fact that the elder remains a hypocrite after the discovery Heeseung uncovered. It is also the exact reason why he has every intention of obscuring the truth from you, because the said discovery obliquely involves you.

A single movement from you pulls him out of his rumination, prompting his eyes to settle on your figure as you stir in your slumber. He holds your strands delicately, inbreathing your fragrance, which has been imprinted on his mind, once more before he decides to move away from you.

The longer your vulnerability remains at his disposal, the harder it is for him to defy his depravity.

As Heeseung saunters towards the ajar door, it is slowly being pushed open, revealing Jay. The latter doesn’t look entirely surprised at Heeseung’s presence in his room, as his face is devoid of emotion.

When their eyes meet, there is an unspoken understanding between them. Giving Heeseung a firm head nod, Jay proceeds to amble past him as he heads towards you.

“Jay?” Your slumberous voice prompts Heeseung to look over his shoulder, watching as Jay adjusts himself to settle next to you while your hand sluggishly reaches out for Jay.

“I’m here, baby.” Jay whispers affectionately as he grabs your hand.

Heeseung silently watches the two of you, seeing how adorably whiny you are amidst your somnolence, with your limbs now tangled with his as Jay cradles you close to his chest.

Oddly enough, Heeseung doesn’t harbour any raging jealousy or resentment towards his best friends, whom you have grown unmistakably attached to. Sure, in the very beginning, he utterly despised every stare at you from the other guys and bore murderous thoughts of gauging out their eyeballs, but now, when it comes to his best friends, he doesn’t feel as deeply murderous.

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that they have successfully ensnared you with their distinctive dark allures, tainting you with their corruption, as everything is going according to how he envisioned it, which he is pleased with.

All that is left is the very devil, as it remains in its slumber, who has long since waited for you.

The monotony of keyboards collectively typing away is teeming in the cold, sterile examination hall, with each journalism major in their assigned seats that are meticulously arrayed. Minutes have stretched into an hour or so, and thus, your immersion begins to wane as your mind drifts off to the thought of the very three men whom you are undoubtedly head over heels for.

Just yesterday, Sunghoon and Jake managed to spend time together with you, almost involving something rather blasphemous, until Jay decided to steal you away from them, which resulted in their squabbling. Now, you wonder if there will ever be a moment where they will set aside their petty dispute over who gets to have you in his possession before the others get their turn.

Your eyes begin to subconsciously wander to your fellow peers across the hall before they stop at Wonyoung and Winter, who are seated in the same row from across the hall. Instinctively, the familiar sadness coils around your heart before a stab of regret comes.

Although it has only been a few days since you last spoke, it feels as though it’s been one miserable year instead. A part of you still harbours resentment for their hypocrisy, but the sensible part of you yearns for your best friends.

You know for yourself that your close association with the leaders is the reason why your best friends have begun hating you, but perhaps there are some truths in their words. You have changed, and you admit that at times you don't even recognise yourself. So how dare you even bear a single yearning thought about the ones who only wanted the best for you?

You shake your head before deciding to direct your focus on finishing off the last paragraph, but your eyes betray your focal point as they sweep over to the guy adorned in a familiar black cap, and to make it worse, he’s seated across from you.

The only guy who has ever been academically on par with you consistently throughout your university years, and the one who daunts you the most, is none other than Lee Heeseung.

You should really look away before he catches you overtly staring at his side profile, but how can you not? Especially when the bill shadowing his striking features does nothing to veil his handsomeness.

Your eyes begin to trace the outline of his features, admiring his perfectly chiselled nose bridge, his dark lashes, his lips, whose bottom lip is adorned with a metal lip ring, silver studs and drop earrings adorning his earlobes, and the black ink tattooed in his skin at the side of his neck with an interesting design of an intricate chipped sword.

Heat creeps up from your neck to your ears. He is undeniably a sinful sight for you to behold.

It appears that he must have felt the intensity of your gaze on him as he turns his head only to lock your eyes with his, and that is also when realisation hits you like a brick of the very reason why you have always felt perturbed around him.

The intensity of his dark eyes alone is enough to knock the breath out of you. You want to look away, but it is as if his allure manages to paralyse you. Your eyes flicker down at a movement of his lips, unfurling a soft smirk, and your heart does a tiny leap.

Damn it. That’s the thing about Heeseung ─ even his bare minimum manages to have an impact on you. Despite his notorious reputation, his dark yet mystifying allure always seems to draw people in, and as much as you hate to admit it, he draws you in just the same, like a moth to a flame.

However, unlike the others, you refused to indulge your inquisitiveness and chose the safest route, which involved keeping your distance from Heeseung. That is, until recently. You recall his touch on your skin and how he whispered in your ear the other day when you were seeking Jay. You shudder lightly. Everything about him screams devilish.

For a moment there, you knew that you wanted him to touch you in the way his best friends do, despite the danger beneath his touch.

You force yourself to break eye contact with him and finally focus on typing away your last paragraph before submitting your exam paper online. Just like some of your fellow peers, you begin packing your belongings into your bag, trying your utmost to ignore Heeseung’s invasive gaze on your figure that continues to unnerve you.

In your peripheral vision, you see him standing up as he too has submitted his, and so your every movement becomes rapid before you finally navigate your way to the exit, walking past other students who are probably finding your briskness odd.

You are too inattentive to your surroundings to even feel self-conscious of the stares you are getting, only recalling Heeseung’s predatory gaze earlier, and just the thought of Heeseung alone manages to plague your cluttered mind.

It’s not just his predatory gaze, but it’s the fact that you feel as though he is able to read through you and invade every corner of your mind, uncovering any secrets you have and unravelling them one by one.

You have long since admitted that Lee Heeseung, the son of the esteemed Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, terrifies you despite the fact that his handsomeness often enthrals you, especially after putting the final piece of the puzzle that he is indeed one of your predators on Devil’s Night. White. 

Although you have every intention of avoiding being closely associated with Heeseung, you know that it is impossible, especially when he lives in the same palace as the others. Plus, you have a gut-twisting feeling that he’ll begin his approach just as his best friends did.

Besides, your very first mistake was attending Devil’s Night, where you finally interacted with the mask version of him. Your second mistake was allowing him to touch you and invade your personal space.

You hope you’ll be proven wrong and that you’re just being delusional to think he would ever waste his time on you. You already have too much on your plate ─ the unresolved issue with your parents and your best friends, your undeclared relationship status with the three guys, and the anonymous person….

‘Ding!’

You whip out your phone from your pocket, and a frown automatically pulls at your lips as you begin to read his text. Just when you thought he wouldn’t send you anymore cryptic messages.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Congratulations on finishing your last exam. Any plans for vacation?

A scoff falls past your lips. Unbelievable. Not only did his last text still give you the creeps, but the audacity of him to act as if nothing happened. Each tap on your phone screen gets progressively more aggressive as you type out your response, expressing your irritation for him.

Y/N: I didn’t realise you could start casually texting me as if you were my friend. If you still don’t get the hint, leave me alone, Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Still insisting that I’m Heeseung? Y/N: Unless you prove to me that you’re not him, then yes.  UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I posed no threat to you. Y/N: I doubt that I can consider you as a friend. UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can be your friend only if you choose to be cooperative with me. Besides, don’t you need one? Considering your friends have already abandoned you.

Your nose flares slightly, angered by the fact that he hits your sore spot.

Y/N: I don’t need you as my friend. UNKNOWN NUMBER: But you do need me, especially when it concerns your safety.

Just before you have the intention to block him, you halt, now standing in the busy forum with bustling students that fade into insignificance as his words strike a chord in you.

Y/N: My safety? Why do you care so much about me? UNKNOWN NUMBER: Like I said, before, you’re a nice girl, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.

You frown, confusion plastered on your face as you slowly amble forward. You don’t recall him telling you that.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Plus, I don’t want history to repeat itself. Y/N: What kind of history? UNKNOWN NUMBER: You don’t know? Ah, right. Everything was swept under the rug. Y/N: Just get straight to the point or I’ll block you for real. UNKNOWN NUMBER: For now, you only need to know that they’re not good people.  Y/N: And you are?  UNKNOWN NUMBER: I never said anything about me being good, but one thing is for sure is that I’m not the bad guy in your story, sweetheart. Y/N: I’m getting really annoyed at you. You keep beating around the bush and playing with words, but I still don’t feel at ease despite your declaration.

You wait for his response, but nothing happens. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperate for answers to allay your inner turmoil.

Y/N: Stop messing with my sanity

But before you can press send, you bump into someone’s shoulder, causing an imbalance for you as you almost fall back if it weren’t for reflexive hands steadying you.

There is a flicker of surprise in your eye as you stare at him while your cheeks flush pink. “Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu eyes you concernedly, still holding you by the waist. “Are you alright? I’m sorry for bumping into you.”

“No, it was my fault.” You exhale, chuckling nervously as you regain composure.

Beomgyu seems to study your expression while you begin to feel self-conscious of his invasive eyes, reminding you of Heeseung earlier. “Something on your mind? You were looking down at your phone the whole time.”

Your eyebrow arches inquisitively. “Were you watching me?”

Something so cryptic flickers in his eyes fleetingly before a soft smile forms on his charming countenance. “No. I just have quick observational skills.” He merely jests.

“Oh,” Even conversing with Beomgyu does nothing to pull you out of your distraught thoughts. You offer him a nimble smile. “Sorry about that. I have to go.”

“Wait.” Beomgyu’s hand latches around your wrist just as you brush past him. When you look at him, he appears rather bashful. “Since exam season is over, do you have anything in your schedule?”

“Maybe.” You answer slowly, uncertain if you actually do have plans other than rotting in your bed. “Why?”

“Well, the guys and I will be going for a two day, one night staycation at the water play park near the resort of Yeonjun’s parents’ business tomorrow.” Beomgyu looks hopeful, and you can almost imagine his ears perking up in a puppy-like way. “Do you want to join us?”

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Nervousness seeps through your chuckles. “But I’m not sure─”

“She’s not available.” A familiar voice startles you, followed by his arm wrapping around your shoulder, which has you turning your head and staring at him in disbelief while he remains casual about it as he maintains eye contact with Beomgyu. “She’ll be with me for the next few days or so.”

What?! You are certain he is able to hear your disbelieving scream echoing in your head as your eyes narrow at the smirk playing on his lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu tucks his clenched fist into his pocket while adorning an amiable grin at his close friend. “Ah, that’s too bad, then. I would have invited you and the others to join us too, Heeseung.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” If anything, Heeseung is most definitely not apologetic in his nonchalance.

Beomgyu offers the two of you a tight smile. “Have fun, you two. Gotta enjoy our deserving vacation.”

Heeseung reciprocates with a cold smirk. “Damn right, we do.”

“Wait─” But your voice is unheard as Heeseung pulls you with him, brushing past Beomgyu. The space between you and Heeseung is practically nonexistent, allowing you to get a whiff of his strong cologne.

First of all, you are greatly annoyed by Heeseung’s brazen intervention. Second of all, he smells so good that you want to bask in his scent. Third of all, what the hell just happened?

“Heeseung.” You try to get his attention, but the guy seems persistent in dragging you with him until you finally gain full awareness of your surroundings, noticing that you’re in the campus parking lot.

The familiar sight of his sleek black Audi greets you as he slowly releases you from his possession. Before you can finally say your piece, his gesture of opening the passenger door for you renders you flabbergasted, despite the confusion lingering in your mind.

You blink your eyes at him while his face is devoid of emotion. “Get in.”

He sounds nothing like how he conversed with Beomgyu earlier. His voice is a low rumble that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. His tone indicates no objections from you. His penetrating dark eyes into yours is a challenge for you if you dare to defy him.

Refusing to show him that you are greatly intimidated by him, your titled chin is a hint of defiance as you maintain eye contact with him, but even you know for yourself that your shaky pupils are out of fear for the glowering male.

“No.”

“No?” Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at you, finding your resistance oddly adorable. He scoffs out a chuckle, his lips upturning a smirk, while his tongue glides across his bottom lip as he moves closer to you. “I wasn’t asking, sweetheart.”

You try your utmost not to falter at the close proximity between your faces while the tip of his hat nearly hovers over your head with how he is leaning down to you. The danger lurking in his eyes sends your heart palpating. But you remain adamant. “And why should I listen to you?” 

“Because I said so.” Heeseung says so softly, a deception you recognise. The smirk remains on his lips. “Come on, now. Don’t disappoint me. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

The moment his thumb touches your bottom lip, it feels like you have lost the ability to speak. With his dark eyes pinning yours, he caresses your lip sensually while your head is spinning due to the effect he has on you. 

“Get inside the car now, sweetheart.” 

This time, you decide to heed his words, listening to your better instinct. Settling in the passenger seat awkwardly, you watch as he closes the door and proceeds to switch on the ignition.

With both hands on the leathered steering wheel, he takes a quick glance at you, noticing your discomfort in the stiffness of your body language while you gaze at the window before he refocuses on driving out of the campus parking lot.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m driving you to your doom.” His lighthearted comment does nothing to alleviate the taut tension in your shoulders. “Also, you should keep your distance from Beomgyu.”

A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips as you finally direct your focus on him. “And why should I listen to you?”

Heeseung’s demeanour remains indifferent, his eyes not meeting yours. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“You don’t know what’s good for me.” You retort rather haughtily, but the second his dark eyes meet yours fleeting as the vehicle comes to a stop, you deflate, fiddling mindlessly with your fingers as your hands are resting on your lap. “Sorry.”

You inwardly wince at your feeble apology when you know that you have nothing to apologise for, yet you did anyway. You lower your gaze. “You said to trust you, but I don’t trust you in the slightest, Heeseung. For that matter, we’re not even friends.”

“You’re right. We’re not friends.” His fingers grip your chin firmly, titling your head up. A soft smile unfurls on his lips. “Because you’re more than that to me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask quietly, confusion wrapping around your head, yet at the same time, you kind of have a sense of what he meant. A part of you is just afraid to acknowledge it, knowing that if you do, you’ll most likely be inclined to succumb to his dark magnetic allure.

Heeseung simply disregards your question as he redirects his attention on the road, now driving on the familiar route to your dormitory. As much as you want him to elaborate himself, you decide to save your energy, resorting to silence and looking forward to keeping your distance from him.

Finally arriving at the entrance point, you unbuckle your seatbelt, eager to flee from him, but as you attempt to open the door, it remains locked. You shoot him a perplexing stare. “Heeseung.”

“I won’t unlock it unless you have to give me your word that you’ll keep your distance from Beomgyu first.” Heeseung admonishes, his tone indicating no room for refusal.

“But why?” You press, unconcealing your frustration. “He has been nothing but nice to me. What do you even have against him? I thought he’s your close friend.”

The sentiments glinting in his eyes are indecipherable, leaving you to wonder about the complexity of his mind. “He’s not someone you should be around with every so often.” He states calmly.

“Oh, and you are?” You ask sardonically, mustering a smile that displays your sarcasm. “Seriously, Heeseung, I don’t know what makes you think that I would listen to you, but if this is you being concerned for me, don’t be. We don’t even have any relation to each other. So you can drop this pretence of yours, because I’m not about to fall for whatever trap you set up.”

Cold silence shrouds both of you as you remain in a heated staring contest with him before you spot a movement, though subtle. Just the slightest movement of his jaw clenching is what it takes for you to discern his annoyance for you before trailing your eyes back to his dark ones. You swallow harshly, moistening your dry throat.

“Heeseung─” 

“You should go.” 

The sound of the door unlocking startles you. You look at him, noticing him turning his head away from you. Oddly, guilt strings in your heart at the probability of hurting Heeseung with your words.

“Fine, I’ll keep my distance from Beomgyu.” You find yourself acquiescing, and you genuinely have no idea why, but maybe you’d hate for Heeseung to remain disappointed in you. Upon receiving no response from him, you huff pettily. “Thanks for the ride, anyway.” You mutter dryly as you open the door.

Just as your foot steps out of the car, his voice pulls you back. “You should stay over at the palace since we’re on a long break before graduation. Plus, I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to have you there.”

You look over your shoulder, a mask of indifference on his face. “Can I, really?”

Heeseung hums lazily, the corner of his lips tipping up a smirk. “Sweetheart, you are more than welcome. Besides, the closer you are to us, the better.”

Something stirs in your tummy. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do, and I hope you’ll make your decision soon.” Heeseung takes you by surprise as he grabs your hand tenderly and raises it up to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckle, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. “Even better if you decide to show up by the entrance gate tonight.”

“Hee...” His name is uttered in a whisper as you watch him press a kiss on your fingertip. You were right. His pink lips feel so soft.

“I’m sure you must’ve felt so lonely in your dorm.” Heeseung states knowingly, still holding your hand tenderly. As he places one last yet sensual kiss on your palm, your heart flutters at his darkened eyes pinning yours and the smirk curving at his lips. “At the palace, you won’t ever have to feel so alone, because you have us to give you whatever you need, pretty girl.”

Any negative thoughts you have about Heeseung instantly dissipate as you succumb to his magnetic allure. Disappointment seeps through you at the loss of his touch. 

“Go on, pretty.” If you told your freshman self that in a few years, your rival would call you pretty, she wouldn’t believe it.

Heeseung was right. Ever since your association with the leaders has been divulged, it ensued to sever your friendship with your friends, including the ones whom you thought would be okay with the alteration in you, and thus, you began to feel a profound sense of loneliness.

Initially, you didn’t want to admit that you had missed your girl companionships, but what Heeseung said to you earlier struck a chord in you. Damn right, you feel lonely. How could you not be when your roommates often had the other girls over for dinner or simply fun hangouts? Or when your roommates were huddled on the couch as they watched some dramas. You used to do all of that with them, minus the drinking session.

Of course, you could’ve joined them and pushed your ego aside, but what held you back was the not-so-discreet stares and even glares from the girls whenever you went out of your room to grab something from the fridge or simply the audacious sight of you in their vision.

Just like earlier, when Karina, Yunjin, and Wonyoung were gathered by the kitchen island, laughter filling the air promptly ceased and hostility returned at the sight of you walking past them.

Did it hurt? Yeah, it did, but your face often remained devoid of emotions, contradicting the sentimentality that ached in your heart. Perhaps what hurts you the most is the fact that they will always be fine with or without you. Heck, they even look happier now that you’re out of the picture.

Hence, it is exactly why the firm decision you made leads you to the very palace you have grown rather fondly attached to, despite the traumatic memories of Devil’s Night that are embedded in your mind.

You press on the button cemented on the veneered wall next to the grand golden gates for the second time before looking up at the outdoor CCTV camera and raising your hand to give it an awkward wave while a sheepish smile forms on your lips.

Nevermind the fact that you look like an idiot at the moment. You hope that at least someone is inspecting through this CCTV camera since your impatience denotes your avidity for seeing the three men who now occupy your mind and heart.

Your lips flatten as the gate remains unopened, but before you can press the button for the third time, your ears perk up at the sound of blaring exhausts emanating from motorbikes, prompting you to turn around just to see three bikers approaching the gate.

Naturally, you assume that they’re Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, but your excitement dwindles as soon as you are able to distinguish their figures while one of them pushes up his visor. Your shoulders go slouched, crestfallen.

“Why the long face, darling?” Sunoo’s fox-like eyes meet yours, his tone a teasing taunt. “Disappointed that we’re not the ones you thought we were?”

You shift uncomfortably as their attention is fixed on you. Deciding to be courteous, you offer Sunoo a small yet wry smile in response.

“What are you doing here?” Riki’s deep voice is conspicuous despite the unremitting blaring of their engine’s exhaust.

After a brief silence, you begin to speak up. A tinge of nervousness is evident in your tone. “Heeseung said I was welcome to stay over, so here I am.” You smile awkwardly, uncertain of the expression plastered on their faces due to their helmets.

Jungwon pushes his visor up, allowing you to meet his striking feline-like eyes. “Heeseung, huh?” In the way he speaks, you can discern his melding of curiosity and mischief.

“Heeseung and the others are not back yet.” Sunoo informs you as he releases his grip from the clutches to adjust his fingerless black gloves, leaning back slightly. “You should’ve called and informed them of your coming here.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You mumble as your lips go pouty, something rather habitual whenever you feel sulky. You become startled at the tolling sound of the gates opening.

“Come on, then.” Jungwon makes a gesture, beckoning you over to him. “You’re lucky we have authorisation access to enter the palace.”

Not too long later, you find yourself seated on the motorbike behind Jungwon, one hand gripping Jungwon’s broad shoulders for support while the other clutching the strap of your shoulder bag as he drives alongside Sunoo and Riki to the route of the massive garage that eventually greets your vision.

"So, were you guys with them?” You break the ice as soon as you dismount from Jungwon’s motorbike.

“Kind of.” Jungwon answers your question as he removes his helmet, whereas Riki, being the usual nonchalant he is, decides to head inside first. “We were just riding around town with them before they headed off somewhere.”

“Why? Worried that they’re with other girls?” Sunoo shoots you a lopsided grin, and his eyes twinkle teasingly at your sour expression. “I’m kidding. They only have eyes for you, darling.”

You huff annoyedly at him before returning your attention to Jungwon, whom you find more tolerable than the blond-haired one. “So what are you guys doing here? I know for a fact that you don’t live here.”

“Riki left something of his, but we also want to hang out here for a bit before the Hyungs decide to kick us out.” There is a knowing glint in Jungwon’s eye. “Especially since you’re here.”

Sunoo saunters forward and slings his arm around Jungwon’s neck. “It looks like you’ll be staying here overnight.” Sunoo points out with a pout on his lips, noticing your shoulder bag. “You’re privileged, you know? The fact that you have your very own personalised room here─”

“Wait, my own room? Here?” You cut him off, a genuine surprise tinges in your tone.

“You don’t know?” Sunoo raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you while a frown tugs at his lips. “All the while you’ve been here, they’ve never shown you to your room?”

“No.” You answer slowly, your cheeks warming as you avoid their gaze. “But why? I didn’t think I needed one since I was always in either of their rooms.”

“Well, now that you know, you should really count yourself lucky.” Jungwon scoffs out a smirk, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Jay so fucking smitten over a girl before, until you.”

“Come on! I’ll show you to your room.” Sunoo offers his arm to you, and despite him always putting you off, you don’t hesitate to hook your arm around his bicep before he proceeds to guide you, with Jungwon trailing behind.

“I’m just going to ignore the fact that you got to see my room before I did.” You shoot him a playful scowl, to which he reciprocates with his tongue sticking out to you before he takes you by surprise as he maintains the conversation flowing despite the occasional banter bounces off between the two of you.

All the while, Jungwon remains totally silent behind you as you ascend the stairs, and you have grown comfortable with your arm around Sunoo’s. Reaching the second floor, you get startled at the sight of Riki in a newly designed purple mask.

Sunoo, who feels your body jolting in surprise, narrows his eyes at the tall male. “Not the right time to scare her, Riks.”

“I wasn’t.” Riki tilts his head, confusion lacing his tone. He points his index finger at his face. “Check it out. My new mask for the next Halloween season.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sunoo rolls his eyes uninterestedly at him before giving you a lopsided smile and changing his tone. “Your room’s one level away. Let’s go, darling.”

“Jungwon.” Riki calls out for him, prompting the latter to head over to him while Sunoo continues to guide you.

If there is one thing about Sunoo, it is that he is chattier than you expect him to be. Even when you’re already out of capacity to keep up with his ongoing chatter, he manages to be entertained by your silence.

“Here we are.” Sunoo chirps as both of you are standing in front of a cream-coated door.

Your loosening arm around his eventually falls to your side while you stare at the door with incredulity, doubts lingering in your mind. “Are you sure this is not a prank?”

“Trust me, darling, if I wanted to prank you, I would’ve already pushed you off into a pool filled with piranhas.”

You gasp at him, your eyes widening in horror, whereas Sunoo seems so laid-back, with a grin adorning his face. “I would hardly call that a prank.”

“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t dare prank you that involves your safety, or else they’ll have my head.” Sunoo chuckles, his body leaning towards you to boop your nose with his finger. “Do make yourself comfortable. If you need us, we’ll be somewhere at the arcade or the bar for the next hour, most probably.”

Sunoo brushes past you, leaving you to fight against your doubt momentarily before you heave a sigh and decide to enter the room that you can now call yours. As soon as you step in and switch on the light, a soft gasp leaves your lips while your eyes twinkle in wonderment at the lovely sight of your room. 

The white-painted wall makes the room look rather spacious than it already is. A queen-sized bed presses up against the wall with an interesting white shell-designed headboard, and the sheets are in pastel pink. You can’t help but release soft chuckles, spotting Sanrio soft toys arrayed horizontally on the bed.

You continue to admire every detail of the room as you saunter forward. By the window sill, there is ample space for three people to sit on top of the cushion. There is also a walk-in closet room, to which you keenly head inside and switch on the light, only to be greatly shocked at the fact that the wardrobes have already been supplied with a variety of clothes and even shoes and some high heels on each shelf.

All the while, you are rendered speechless as you exit the closet room and move over to the vanity desk, pulling one of the drawers filled with familiar cosmetic products that have been arranged rather meticulously, to which you smile softly as you have a sense of Jay’s touch on them.

“So I take it that you like your room, then?”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sound of his voice, prompting you to turn around and see him by the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he leans sideways against the frame.

Your eyes rake all over his appearance, while heat creeps up on your cheeks as you do so. His magenta-red-dyed hair looks dishevelled, enticing you to adjust it. The black leather jacket hugs his lean physique perfectly, as it looks taut, and you recall that pool party where you finally saw the full view of his bare upper body.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your cheeks remain blushing upon being aware that you were blatantly checking him out, and to make it worse, he notices it too, as evident in the way he smirks at you. “I’m sorry for entering without permission, but Sunoo─”

“Don’t apologise. This is your room, after all.” Heeseung cuts you off firmly, but a tinge of softness is apparent in his tone. As he ambles towards you, his eyes remain intently fixed on you, making you feel self-conscious about the way you look. “It’s not much, but I do hope you like it.”

“Not much? Heeseung, giving me a room of my own in this palace is already generous enough of you guys.” The earnest gratitude in your tone sends a wave of assurance to his nerves, despite his coolly collected demeanour. Your eyebrows are softly knit together in perplexity. “But why? And whose idea was it?”

“It was mine, and the other guys were more than on board with it.” Heeseung stops in front of you with very little distance, and instead of recoiling due to the intimidation emanating from him, you remain rooted to your spot while your eye contact with him persists.

“Really?” You feel something flutter in your heart as you look at the man in front of you in a different light.

Heeseung melodious soft chuckles only seem to intensify that flutter. “You should’ve seen them on the same day I brought up the idea of you having your own room in the palace. They bought everything and anything they could recall about you and your likes.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes form the shape of a crescent as you join him, and your chuckles bring a pleased smile from him. “But Heeseung, you really didn’t have to. I’m sure it must’ve been hard work to arrange and decorate the room.”

“I wanted to.” Heeseung’s gesture of brushing fallen strands of your hair and tucking them behind your ear surprises you, as does the sincerity glinting in his eyes. “I wanted you to have a personal space for whenever you needed it. Your comfort matters to me most, sweetheart.”

“Heeseung, what am I to you?” Your voice barely above a whisper, and an air of vulnerability suspends around you. “I’m confused, Hee. Before this, we weren’t friends or acquaintances, and even now, I’m not entirely sure what I am to you.”

Heeseung simply smiles at you, the sentiments swimming in his eyes are inexplicable. His fingers stroke your cheek in an affectionate gesture while his features have completely softened, stirring foreign yet familiar emotions within you. “You’re my beloved.” He whispers.

“But─” Your voice disappears momentarily when he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he steps away from you.

“Good night, sweetheart.” He shoots you one last smile before turning his back on you, getting ready to leave your room.

You don’t know what takes you over, but you find yourself going after him, and once you’re nearer, your hand latches on his wrist. “Heeseung, wait.”

Heeseung turns around and raises an eyebrow at you, awaiting your words, but your next gesture startles him. Your arms slither around his neck before pulling him fully into your embrace.

“Thank you.” You say softly next to his ear while you ignore a twinge of disappointment in your chest as he doesn’t reciprocate your hug. “I appreciate everything you guys did.”

Just as you have every intention to back away, you feel his arms encasing your waist, pulling you closer until your body fully comes into contact with his. Your tummy remains in a fluttery mess, still refusing to believe that your academic rival of four years is hugging you fervently.

It takes everything for Heeseung to repress the darkness within him from engulfing you wholly, as he doesn’t wish for you to keep your distance from him, but fuck, you feel so undeniably right and perfect in his arms.

Heeseung has longed to hold you like this, and it is even better than how he imagined it. His cheek rests against the side of your head, and his nose lightly buries in your hair as he takes a whiff of your shampoo scent from your hair.

“Hee…” You utter his name softly, feeling his heartbeat against your chest that seems to be pounding erratically, and despite becoming wholly inhibited by the way he is hugging you as though he is hugging his lover, you know that you never want to let go of him.

After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung gives your crown a kiss, another gesture of his affection. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

This time, you don’t question the intimate endearment, still clinging to him as though he’s your salvation. You feel the back of his fingers caressing your head while you unfurl a soft smile on your lips, blissfully unaware of the devil you have just aroused.

The emphatic quietude in the palace only seems to discomfort you instead of providing some sort of placidity. Having been a regular here for as long as you can recall, you have grown eminently accustomed to the sporadic racket from the boisterous knights, so the absence of their essence feels strange to you.

What is even weirder is the fact that neither Jay, Jake, nor Sunghoon are by your side and are uncharacteristically clingy to you, which brings a small frown to your lips. Earlier, after freshening yourself up, you were expecting either of them to barge into your room, but none showed up, and so you ventured your way to their rooms just to be greeted by empty rooms.

Naturally, you expected the three of them to come back with Heeseung last night, so their stark absence confused you until you decided to send Jake a text only to receive his reply, ‘We’re going to be out of town for a while. Sorry, lovely, but we hope you like your new room!’ Of course, you feel a tad sulky since you had been hoping to spend more time with them. 

Plus, you are not entirely certain if you really do get along with Heeseung. Sure, last night’s interaction with him felt awfully intimate, as did the fact that you initiated a skinship with him, but the turmoil in you persists at a single thought of the enigmatic Lee Heeseung, so what’s more to be anywhere in his vicinity?

Speaking of Heeseung, you have yet to see him anywhere, for which you are thankful. You are definitely not prepared to face him yet after what happened last night, especially the affectionate forehead kiss he gave you.

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you recall, before you lightly pat your cheek to snap out of it and decide to resume walking down the familiar aisle of shelves with fictional books filled to the brim.

Presently, you are in the magnificent library filled with opulence and gold details embellished sublimely on every wall and turn, giving you a sense of simulation as though you are a princess wandering in your own royal library.

A faint smile touches your lips as you recall whenever Sunghoon calls you his princess while giddiness dances in your fluttery heart. It has only been a day, and yet you’re already missing Sunghoon and the others. You shake your head lightly before refocusing on reality again.

Your fingers remain mindlessly yet delicately stroking the spines of the books while your eyes are keenly surveying any book that piques your interest until they finally stop at a certain book, but it is one shelf higher.

With a determined huff, you stand on your tippy toes with your hand outstretched to reach and grab for the book, but your attempt is rather futile, and so you silently curse your height.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart.”

His soft, honeyed-dripping voice sends your heart doing a little flip while you stand frozen in your spot at the close proximity between you and him, allowing you to feel the heat emanating from his body. A movement above you captures your attention, prompting you to look up at his hand, reaching out for the book that piqued your interest with such ease.

“Here.” He lowers his hand for you to grab the book, and you do so hesitantly.

You turn around with the intention to thank him, and when you do, your voice disappears briefly as you scan his appearance, particularly his hair, which has been freed from his wonted cap or even beanie. The strands look longer than you remember as the length reaches below his brows, but they do nothing to obscure the distinct darkness in his eyes.

“Thank you.” You manage to utter a feeble gratitude, smiling at him awkwardly while shifting discreetly under the weight of his dark gaze.

“Have you eaten yet?” Heeseung asks, an unmistakable tenderness in his tone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart.

“I have.” You answer, feeling a tad sheepish that you did go through their fridge without asking for permission earlier. You notice satisfaction glinting in his eye before he takes you by surprise as he gently pats you on the head. 

“Good. I’d hate for you to starve.” He mutters, and a smirk threatens to form on his lips upon seeing your cheeks getting rosier, knowing that his mere gesture has an effect on you.

“How did you know I was here?” You decide to strike up a conversation you hope is decent enough to dispel the awkwardness, but in all honesty, you can’t wait to flee from him.

“Sunghoon did tell me that if you’re not found anywhere in the palace, then you’d probably be in the library.” He divulges, giving you a soft smile that surprisingly allays your inner turmoil. “Besides, you love reading.”

You dismiss the fact that he knows about your love for books, which he must’ve known from Sunghoon as well. Silence hangs in the air painfully as you avoid his lingering gaze. “So... I'm just going to head off to read.” You tell him in a rather brusque manner before venturing your way out of the aisle to the centre of the library, where you would usually make yourself comfortable on one of the velvety couches and become engrossed in the reading.

A sense of deja vu washes over you as you settle on the velvety beige couch, bringing a small smile to your lips upon recalling Sunghoon having you perched on his lap with his arms caged around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder as he peered at the passages you were reading.

Before you can dwell further in your yearning for any of the three, you flip open the first chapter of the book and allow yourself to fall immersive in the fictional world, or at least you tried to, because it isn’t long before the sound of footsteps from behind you serves as a distraction, prompting you to slowly look up when a shadow looms over your figure.

With your head tilted up, your eyes meet Heeseung’s amused ones as he stares down at you with a sly smirk. “Shall we finally address the elephant in the room?” It seems to you that it’s more of a rhetorical question.

“There’s nothing to address.” You clip, redirecting your attention to the book, but even you know that it is hard to focus since the man behind you remains looming ominously over you.

You hear his soft yet lethal chuckles, emerging goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty.” For a split second, you swear you feel his fingers ghosting the skin of your exposed bare shoulder as you are adorned in a white spaghetti strap loose dress, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Hee─” The next thing you know, he snatches the book from your slack clutches, drawing a flabbergasted gasp from you, but then comes the vexation as you find yourself turning around with the intention to berate him. “That was rude, Lee Heeseung.”

Even as you stand on your knees, he still manages to tower over you. His eyes rake over your flustered countenance, greatly amused, as evident in the way his lips curve up at the fact that you resemble an angry kitten. A kitten he desires to tame and keep in his possession forever.

“Give it back.” You demand, swallowing the frightful lump in your throat at the familiar intimidation exuding from him while a deceptive smile plays on his lips.

“Now that I have your full attention, let’s start off with your avoidance.”

“My avoidance?” You scoff lightly, looking away from his steely eyes. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

His fingers seize your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eyes while your heart goes hammering against your chest at the explicable storms brewing in his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I loathe liars?”

“No..?” You attempt to jerk from his touch, but he only grips your chin tighter. “H-Heeseung...”

“I’m very upset with you, pretty.” A sigh of faux dejection elicits from him. “You got me confused with your mixed signals. One moment you act all friendly, and the next, you look at me with such animosity. The thought of you hating me truly disheartens me.”

“I don’t hate─” You pause as soon as he finally releases you.

“You know, I wanted to reward you for making my best friends happier than they've ever been.” His admission kindles a burning flame of inquisitiveness within you, but you know you ought to remain silent as he continues. “I’m sure you must’ve noticed that their personalities differ from one another, but in a way, they remain kindred souls who share the same pain that stemmed from the threshold of their dysfunctional family. So happiness was a sentiment so foreign and insignificant to them, until you happened.”

“I don’t understand.” You begin to speak out after a couple beats of silence as his words sink into your brain. Your eyes follow his measured movements as he moves around you. “They share the same pain? Does that mean Jake and Sunghoon were victims of parental abuse the way Jay experienced?” 

Heeseung’s arched eyebrow denotes his surprise. “So you knew about Jay?”

You slowly nod your head despite the uncertainty. “He didn’t exactly tell me the details, but I knew enough.” A frown creases your complexion. “But Heeseung, how do you know about all of these?”

Something meaningful flickers in his eyes for a fleeting moment. “The four of us kind of grew up together since our fathers were best friends, but whatever happened behind the curtains of our lives was all divulged only between us. Plus, I saw some unpleasant sights.”

“Like?” You prod, but uneasiness spreads across your chest upon awaiting his answer.

Heeseung looks down at the book, flipping through the pages uninterestedly. “Like how Sunghoon’s father attempted to kill him by hiring a hitman three years ago.”

“What?” A disbelieving gasp leaves your gaping mouth, and when Heeseung meets your eyes, he merely smirks as he shuts the book closed with one hand.

“Of course, Sunghoon took care of the matter within a day, and on the same day, his father received a special gift from him.” Something so wicked glints in his eyes. “A gift of the hitman’s heart that Sunghoon carved it out himself.”

A part of you refuses to believe it, but you’ve already seen and known what they are capable of. Being ensnared in a whirlwind of conflict, you feel revolted at the fact that the very man who went to the extent of carving out an organ is the same man who touched, fucked, kissed, and held you in his warm embrace. The revelation also has you reflecting on the past interactions you had with Sunghoon ─ just how lucky you were that you didn’t end up dead for those moments where you dared to show your defiance to him.

“But why?” You ask, your voice shaking palpably while you attempt to conceal your fear. “Why would his own father do that? How could a father bear the thought of killing their own child?”

“It is rather complex, if I’m being honest.” Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, seeming almost nonchalant. “Out of the four of us, Sunghoon was blessed to grow up with doting parents who often showered him with love despite having other siblings compete for their affection. So the knowledge that his own father, whom he looked up to the most, loathed him to the point where he was willing to eradicate Sunghoon’s existence was more than upsetting.”

“Did─” Hesitation pulls you back, apprehensive to hear the answer. “Did Sunghoon kill his father as well?”

Heeseung merely hums, his face remains impassive. “No. Sunghoon decided that death was an easy way out for his father. He has other plans, I suppose.”

“What about Jay?” You didn’t mean to sound eager to know about their whole life story, or at least a partial part of it, but the three of them have never divulged to you anything regarding family, unlike you. “Those scars I saw and touched on his back…” Your eyebrows are softly knit together. “I couldn’t believe that a father would do that to his son.”

“Jongseong made it abundantly clear to us that his birth was unplanned. Thus, his parents grew to resent him because they never wanted a child.” Heeseung settles on the marbled-surface table directly in front of you, his eyes never leaving your curious ones. “The scars he got were from his fucked-up alcoholic father while his mother closed both her eyes to the abuse he went through, and because of them, Jongseong grew resentful and hateful, especially whenever a parental topic was brought up. You should’ve seen him before ─ he was even more vicious.”

You bring your knees close to your chest as you hug your legs. The distraught yet crestfallen look in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Heeseung. “So that’s why he─” You halt, pressing your lips thinly, before murmuring, “I can’t even imagine the pain he had to endure.” 

Heeseung sets the book aside on the table, a passing fleet of cognisance in his eyes. “And I’m guessing you must’ve brought up something relating to his parents before, no?”

You avert your gaze elsewhere, obscuring the scintilla of guilt in your eyes from his sight. “I can’t say that we fought, but he did blow up on me because he didn’t believe that I truly cared for him when I─” You draw in a sharp inhalation at the stinging memory before casting Heeseung a feeble smile. “Never mind. It’s all water under the bridge now.”

You expect Heeseung to press onto the matter, but the flicker of understanding in his eyes evokes an inkling in you that he must’ve known what really happened, and it makes you feel uneasy at the plausible thought that everything that happened between you and them seems to have been reported to Heeseung for some reason.

“So now that’s left is our most beloved Sim Jaeyun.” Heeseung slants his body to the back with his palms on the cold, flat surface for support, while a knowing smirk plays on his lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but he is your favourite out of them, right?”

“He’s not─” It’s as if your tongue is tied at the instant denial urges you, rendering you dubious of your unbiased sentiments centred around them. Your fingers curl, forming a fist with which you clutch the teetering truth of coequal feelings beyond platonic for the three of them. A muscle pulses in your jaw. No, you’re not one to play favourites.

With your steel-determined eyes unwaveringly meeting him, you opt to pull a reverse uno card on him as you fold your arms below your chest. “What about you, then? I’m most certain he’s your favourite.”

Inquisitivity pulls an arch at his eyebrow. “What are you implying?” His soft tone belies the cryptic danger that parallels the brewing storms in his eyes, and you know you ought to tread carefully with your next words.

“There was once when Jay and Jake fought, but Sunghoon managed to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.” You allow your limbs to let loose, your hands settling on your lap politely. The movement of your teeth biting down on the plushness of your lips captures his eyes. “Initially, I heard them arguing, and your name was mentioned. Jay then told me about Jake breaking a code, and I’m guessing it was you whom he slept with.”

All the while, your cheeks are flushed as you look everywhere except his penetrating eyes. Truth be told, you were shocked when the revelation unravelled, and a twinge of upset came. It was not that you were against the plausible thought of them being queers, but you never wanted to be a catalyst in the relationship between them, be it platonic or romantic-wise. You clutch at the hem of your dress, nervously waiting in anticipation for his next words. 

“You are right about one thing. He is my most favourite out of them, but our one-night stand was a drunken mistake.” The stark sincerity in his admission is unmistakable, prompting you to flutter your eyes at him. “It was during this period of time that he completely ghosted us. We were drunk and got caught up in a spur of the moment. Plus, he was being vulnerable even before he got drunk.” 

“It’s okay, Hee. You don’t have to explain everything to me.” You assure him with a faint smile, while the nickname that leaves your lips has an impact on him.

“But I want to.” He counters firmly, his body leaning slightly forward. “You have to know that Jaeyun and I’s relationship is nothing beyond platonic.”

“I believe you, Hee.” You feel compelled to give him any form of assurance as you offer him a small smile, and yet dubiety remains lingering in your mind. “It’s just that... I don’t want to be the kind of person who ruins the relationship you have with him, or any of them for that matter.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” His tone is filled with affection as he grabs your hand to give your knuckle a chaste kiss, causing your heart to do a little flip at the gesture. “You could never be the one who ruined the relationship between us.” Because the ruined one in the end will be you, and you’ll come to depend on and cling to us as if we’re your salvation.

You slowly retract your hand from his touch as you clear your throat, intending to revert to the topic. “You mentioned Jaeyun ghosted you. He ghosted me too.” Your lips jut into a pout at the recollection. “Till this day, I have no idea what spurred him on. Even though he did apologise, he never really explained why he did what he did either.”

Heeseung knows this, of course, but he is not about to let it be known to you. “We wondered the same even after we reconciled, but upon some inspection, it turns out your loverboy has serious abandonment issues.” A lazy smirk touches his lips, and just as you are about to retort, he adds on, “I highly doubt that he already told you, but Jake, he’s been clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. His therapy can attest to that.”

You frown as you wrap the information around your head. “So his disorder correlates to why he did what he did?” 

Heeseung sighs softly. “Look, I said all of those not as a means to justify his actions, but it’s for you to understand and know that no matter what frontage Jaeyun displays, he has a soft heart. He just needs a little loving and for the people he holds close to him to never abandon him.”

The air around you shifts drastically into something rather stifling as he leans forward while gazing deeply into your eyes, and you feel the connection between the two of you is ineffable. Your heart beats in a measured cadence that feels foreign yet familiar as he strokes your cheek tenderly.

“Can you promise me something, sweetheart?” He asks in a lulling whisper, and you find yourself getting lost in the abysmal depths of his enthralling eyes. “Promise me that you’ll stay by their side and continue to make them happy.”

“Yes.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the promise has plunged deep into your beating heart, firm in upholding it. “I never wanted to leave either.”

Heeseung unfurls a soft smirk on his lips upon hearing your admission, satisfied at the pellucid attachment you have to them and to him soon enough. “Such a good girllll.” He drawls, and you discern something shifting in him while your breath nearly hitches in your throat at his darkening eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”

Heeseung grabs the book and gives it to you. Confused, you decide to take it from him anyway. “What do you want me to do─”

As soon as he stands, looming over your seated figure, it feels as if you have lost the ability to speak as you tilt your head to look up at him. With a smirk on his handsome countenance, he leans down to you, one hand on the headrest behind you. “I want you to read from where you left off earlier.”

“Okay.” You acquiesce while your heart seems to gradually pound harder and harder, your eyes watching him attentively as he slowly backs away just slightly. “But why?”

He doesn’t respond, and instead, he crouches down on his knees in front of you, his hands touching your calves before moving them upwards tantalisingly slowly.

“W-What are you doing?” You stutter, a twinge of panic in your heart despite the racing anticipation that betrays your morality, or whatever is left.

Heeseung doesn’t stop, even as you squirm and attempt to push him away, earning you a disapproving tut from him. “I’m giving you your reward, sweetheart. Don’t you want that?”

“I-I─” Eventually, you relent from squirming and allow his hands to move underneath your dress with ease. “Heeseung.” You mutter his name weakly in defeat, feeling his fingers hooking around your underwear before he pulls it down until it leaves past your ankles.

Heeseung pries your legs open by force, rendering your lower region wholly exposed under the weight of his dark gaze. Effortlessly, he adjusts the position of your legs over his shoulders, leaving your legs to dangle behind him as he moves closer to you.

“Go on, pretty.” He leans down, his warm breath tickling your skin, before he places a sensual kiss on your inner thigh. “Read the book.”

You can’t seem to resist his command, and so you heed it, your trembling fingers clutching the book as you open and flip through the page that you left off. Your chest heaves up and down in anticipation as you feel his lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your inner thigh, scorching and burning.

How can you ever concentrate on reading just one paragraph when his lips feel closer and closer to the display of your bare cunt, which seems to betray your revulsion as it clenches at nothingness in anticipation?

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Just as his lips come into contact with your clit, a soft gasp elicits from you while your hips buck up at the sheer sensitivity. “Ahh, pretty angel is so sensitive, isn’t she?” He coos before taking you by a delightful surprise at the sensation of his wet muscle licking a long stripe of your slit.

“Hee─” You gasp as soon as his tender administration shifts into something that is ravenous, his tongue delving into the wonder of your wet cavity so deep, and yet each thrust and lick is executed with such precision that it has you rolling your eyes to the back. “Mmhmm, S-Seungie.”

His cock twitches beneath the confines of his slacks at how adorable you sound. The moans you so desperately try to muffle with your palm only seem to fuel his raging desire for you. “Keep reading the book, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out his command, sending pleasurable vibrations through your body.

You try, you really do, but how are you supposed to focus on reading when the man below you is lapping and ravaging your cunt as though it is his last meal?

His movements are uninhibited while his grip on your thighs only seems to tighten, getting utterly drunk on your pussy as his wet muscle is fucking into you wantonly, revelling in the lewd sound eliciting from your lips. Oh, he has dreamt of this moment.

“Seungie.” You whimper, your hips bucking up at the sensation of his pointed nose rubbing against your neglected clit. The book has fallen from your grasp, prompting you to muffle the lewd sound that spills from your lips with the back of your hand while tears well in your lower lids at the sheer intensity of his tongue fucking into your already drenched cunt that hurls you at the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Mmhmm fuck,” His gravelly, husky voice as he rasps against your wet folds sends your cunt pulsating, and his nose rubbing against your clit only seems to intensify the knot in your tummy. “You’re so soaked for me, sweetheart.”

Damn right, you are, and you’re not even cumming yet, but the slicks of your arousal leaking from your cunt are unmistakable as he wholeheartedly laps up everything that is not enough for his insatiable hunger for you.

“Please.” You pant lightly, your curve arching as you throw your head to the back with moans spilling from your lips, feeling his lips enveloping your aching clit with his tongue drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves and his cold, slender fingers plunging into your sopping cunt to fuck you hard.

“What are you pleading for, pretty?” Heeseung murmurs against your skin before resuming to suck on your clit harshly, while the sound of his fingers fucking into you is obscenely wet.

“Please let me cum.” You moan out your permission while your hips move in tandem with his unforgiving fingers.

“Go on.” Heeseung permits, his fingers curling inside of you and hitting the spot that sends sparks flying in your vision.

“Seungie, I-I’m─” You gasp in between bated breaths as the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable, sending your body to writhe under him as your impending orgasm awaits its release.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.” His hungry gaze remains fixated on you, while his fingers fucking into you never let up. “Cum.”

At a single command, your lips part open in a silent scream, and blood rushes into your ear while white flashes in your vision as he sends you into a blissful state of euphoria, with your orgasm crashing down on you violently and your body convulsing beneath him.

“Good girl. Oh, you did so well, my beloved.” Heeseung’s warm praise has your pulsating cunt clenching around his fingers that are coated with your release, drawing a smirk on his handsome face.

You whimper at your sensitivity as he slowly withdraws his fingers from you. You watch with lidded eyes while heat creeps up on your cheeks as he inserts his drenched fingers into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you.

Heeseung nearly moans at the taste of your nectar on his tongue, savouring it a little longer before he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. His dark eyes rake all over you, noticing how spent you looked just by a single orgasm. Although he yearns to bury his face in your sweet cunt again, he refrains from doing so, not wanting to unleash the inner part of him that is akin to a raging beast that can only be tamed by you.

The realisation of your cunt still being exhibited under his gaze as the hem of your dress is hiked up to your stomach makes you immediately regain your composure, straightening your spine before bending down to reach for your white underwear, but you become appalled when Heeseung seizes it. “Heeseung─”

“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart.” His command is delivered in a soft, calming tone, to which you silently comply, slowly lifting your leg before he proceeds to assist you in wearing your underwear.

Just as you rise from the couch, your knees buckle underneath you, causing an imbalance in your standing figure, but Heeseung steadily holds you against him while you lean dependently into his chest for support. 

“Sorry.” You mutter, and your rosy cheeks feel warmer under his dark gaze on your face, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart beats erratically against your chest in intimate close proximity while his arms slither around your waist.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are truly adorable.” Heeseung coos, his fingers stroking your cheek affectionately, and his eyes are swirling with sentiments beyond your comprehension, because why is he gazing at you with such love and adoration?

“I haven’t even fucked you yet, but your legs are already turning into jell-o because of my tongue.”

“Heeseung! You can’t just say that!” You flushed red in disbelief at how he said it so casually. You try to push him away from you, but he only tightens his grip on you and pulls you closer to him until you can feel his bulge pressing against your tummy. “Let go of me.”

Heeseung grabs strands of your soft locks and brings them to his nose, smelling faintly before kissing them, and his gesture alone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart. “I won’t ever let go of you, sweetheart.” You can’t help but sense the double meaning of his words. “Plus, I haven’t said what I want to say to you.”

“And what is that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Come with me to a family dinner tomorrow.” He says so firmly, his tone indicates no room for objection from you.

“Okay.” You acquiesce, frowning lightly, which denotes your confusion. “But why me?”

“You’re in my territory now, pretty. So everything I say or order, you’ll do so like the good girl I know you are, and don’t even think of trying to escape.” Heeseung leans in to press a tender kiss on your forehead, and while his gesture feels affectionate, it does nothing to alleviate the familiar turmoil within you. 

“And if I do?” You dare to ask despite feeling apprehensive about his answer. Your pulses drum in your ears as he trails his kisses down the side of your face before stopping at your temple while his hand moves to cradle the back of your head.

“Pretty girl, if you do…” He sighs softly against you, moving his lips to press a sensual kiss on your earlobe before catching you completely off guard when his fingers grab a chunk of your hair and pull your head to the back, eliciting a whimper from you.”

“H-Hee─” Your hand flies to his wrist and claws at it, imploring him to release you while your fearful eyes meet his dark, steely ones. “Seungie.” You whimper as he forces you to turn your head sideways.

His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while your heart remains pounding harder. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” He whispers darkly into your ear. “Even if you do manage to escape, I won’t be far behind.”

“Why are you being like this?” You ask shakily, tears glistening in your eyes at his unforgiving hold.

“Why?” His cold chuckles feel mocking, sending shivers through you. “Because you’re mine. Your body, your voice, your soul ─ they’re mine.” He presses a deep kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “Sweetheart, you’ve always belonged to me.”

No! That is what your mind is screaming, and your rationality urges you to evade this psychotic man, but despite the pain and fear you harbour for him, a twisted part of you feels delighted because, deep down, maybe you have longed for him to take you in the way the other three men did.

You can’t recall the last time family dinner felt this uncomfortable. What’s even worse is that you feel your presence is intruding, considering that Heeseung’s parents didn’t seem too pleased at the moment they saw you at the threshold of their posh mansion, but nevertheless, they acknowledged you.

The atmosphere in the dining room seems to thicken with tension that is palpable to you despite the distinct chatters and chortles coming from the other side of the table, prompting you to discreetly look over to Heeseung’s twin older brothers.

Earlier, Heeseung introduced you to his older brothers, who were rather blatantly flirtatious with you in their manner, but you were not entirely surprised since Heeseung did give you a heads-up about his older brothers’ coquettish tendencies towards women. You were also informed that they are five years older than Heeseung, and they are currently doctors employed at Seoul National Hospital.

A frown touches your lips as you watch them, wondering how on earth they manage to blithely disregard the patent frigidity between Heeseung and his parents. It is almost as if the two are used to this prevalence.

Heeseung never really mentioned anything about his parents on your way to dinner, but you knew that his father is the Chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, so that explains the cold, reserved demeanour his father exudes. Heck, you feel as though you are committing a crime whenever you make a single movement, especially as his father’s eagle eyes occasionally settle on you. Of course, you never dare make eye contact with his father unless he directs his speech to you.

His mother, on the other hand, looks years younger than his father. She appears standoffish, dolled up in a designer piece that drapes over her figure flawlessly. She has yet to say much, but her sharp yet callous eyes often send you flinching.

“So, Heeseung.” One of the twins, who goes by Jaesung, draws everyone’s attention, including yours. It is still uncanny to you that the three siblings can pass as triplets instead, especially in the way they smile. “Is this the part where you announce your relationship with the lovely Y/N Kang?”

“Our baby brother? In a serious relationship?” The other twin, Daehyun, remarks with a tinge of sarcasm, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. “Oh my. How you’ve grown, indeed.”

“Is this true, Heeseung?” The austerity is accentuated in the way his father speaks, nearly causing you to flinch, but from your peripheral vision, Heeseung displays such nonchalance.

As much as you want to assert the truth to them, you resort to the silent passivity of whatever declaration Heeseung chooses to enunciate. Plus, his hand gripping your plush thigh is an implicit warning, so you know better than to go against him.

You quickly take a glance at Heeseung, seeing his full attention on his father seated across from him. You begin to wonder what exactly Heeseung’s motive is when he clearly displays his disdain for this family dinner.

Heeseung, who has felt your eyes lingering on his face, chuckles inwardly as he can sense your peak curiosity about the dynamic of his family as well as his ulterior motive, but he continues to maintain heated eye contact with his father while a smirk plays on his lips.

Truthfully, Heeseung simply wants to exasperate his father by bringing you to the family dinner, knowing that his father explicitly warned him to keep his distance from you for some reason, and yet Heeseung has an inkling that his father’s absurd rationality has something to do with you being your mother’s daughter.

“Yes.” His confirmation seems to elicit a flaring ire behind the elder’s eyes, which only fuels Heeseung’s zeal in executing part of his revenge towards him. Without looking at you, Heeseung grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his before raising it to give the back of your hand a kiss. “Y/N and I are in a relationship, so we hope that you’ll give us your blessings.”

“You have our blessings, dear brother.” Daehyun intervenes, but that does little to ease the crackling tension between the father and the youngest son.

“Take good care of our baby brother, Y/N.” Jaesung sends you a friendly wink, to which Heeseung narrows his eyes.

“I see.” His father’s reciprocation is nothing short of acknowledgement, but even you can tell that his father doesn’t approve of this in the way he stares at Heeseung. The elder dabs the white handkerchief to the corner of his lips before rising from his seat. “If that is all, I’ll be in my office to resume my paperwork.”

“Dear.” You watch as the wife calls for him and touches his arm, but the elder simply ignores her as he proceeds to make his departure. Even towards his own wife, he harbours the same coldness towards Heeseung. 

Time has passed since the uncomfortable dinner, and you now find yourself wandering in the sectional part of the living room, where there are distinct yet beautiful paintings hanging in opulent golden frames on each wall, making you feel as though you are at an art exhibition event. They look like they cost thousands.

“Y/N.”

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at the sound of his father’s voice. You slowly turn around, only to lock eyes with his steely ones as he stands just a few metres from you, allowing you to take a fleeting examination of his features. It is as if you are staring at the older version of Heeseung.

“Mister Lee,” You manage to utter a feeble greeting with a small smile. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.” It was, in fact, the worst dinner you ever had.

You subtly shift under the uncomfortable weight of his gaze as he seems to scrutinise you, leaving you to ponder what you did wrong for his father to feel disdainful towards you.

“I don’t approve of your relationship with Heeseung.” You already expect that much, but why does your heart ache even though you know that you’re not in any relationship with Heeseung? The look in his father’s eyes holds such austerity that it makes you want to cower from him. “After this, I want you to stay away from my son.”

“May I ask why?” You ask tentatively, trying your utmost to repress the hurt from travelling to emerge tears from your eyes. “Am I not good enough for your son?”

You can see it in his eyes — the drastic yet fleeting change in his austere demeanour, almost as if the sight of your eyes now glistening with tears seemed to soften him, evoking a sense of pity in him.

“Staying away from him is for your benefit.” His gentle tone shocks you, as does the look in his eyes. “You’re a nice girl, Y/N. You are better off without being associated with my son.”

“But what if I love him?” The words fly from your mouth without your permission, astounding you with the absurd declaration of love when you remain in a state of uncertainty about your feelings towards your once-academic rival. It feels like you can’t even differentiate between love and infatuation.

“Then it would be wise for you to erase your feelings for him before it’s too late.” His father chuckles wryly, and his cryptic words throw you into a whirlwind of confusion. “Being closely associated with my son will only bring you nothing but misery.”

“I don’t understand why you are talking badly about Heeseung. No matter what, he’s your son.” You express your dissatisfaction with a frown on your lips. “I already know what he’s capable of, but I can assure you he’s not bad. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”

Little do you know that your words provide satisfaction to the person listening behind the wall a few metres away from you.

“You’ve been fooled by his charms, Y/N.” His father heaves a disappointed sigh. “You have no idea how despicable he is. So please, leave him while you still can.”

“Mister Lee─” Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as he steps closer, his fingers brushing your cheek tenderly.

Sentiments swirling in his eyes are beyond anything you can fathom, while a wistful smile etches on his face. “You look so much like her.” His voice trembles with poignance.

“Who?” You inquire as relief washes over you at the loss of his touch on your skin.

“Your mother.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You know my mother?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” His voice, barely above a whisper, a raw emotion of longing, is palpable.

Before you can ask him to elaborate, Heeseung’s voice cuts through the air sharply like a knife. “Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”

When you look over to him, his countenance is inscrutable, but the danger brewing in his eyes daunts you, prompting you to refrain from dilly-dallying any longer as you find yourself gravitating towards him.

Your cheeks flare as he brazenly wraps his arms around your waist before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek in front of the elder. “We’ll be heading off first, father.” There is a certain edge in his tone, and before you can look up at his face, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you with him.

“Brother, leaving so soon?” Both Daehyun and Jaesung, who have been hanging out in the living room, raise their eyebrows at the two of you. “Come on. We haven’t even gotten to know Y/N yet!” Jaesung casts a flirtatious wink at you this time.

“We have somewhere to be.” Heeseung offers them a tight smile while his grip on your hand only seems to tighten, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. “Oh, and Jaesung? Look at my girl that way again, and you’ll find yourself waking up with one eye missing.”

Heeseung doesn’t await any of their responses, as he continues to drag you along with him. You try your best to catch up with his long legs, and when your eyes linger on his back, you swear you can hear the cacophonous maelstrom of raging vehemence in his head.

Now settling in his car, cold silence continues to dominate the atmosphere. You don’t dare to break the ice between the two of you, your eyes focusing on the road ahead of you while your heart pounds against your chest as his car gradually picks up velocity, uncertain of where he is bringing you.

Your eyes eventually trail over to him, noticing his chiselled jaw locked, which parallels the tension, colouring his knuckles nearly white as he grips the steering wheel. You bite down on the inner flesh of your cheek, contemplating whether or not to speak up, especially since he is driving at an alarming speed.

“Heeseung.” You accidentally utter his name in a meek whisper before deciding to overcome your apprehension, but your soft voice is a melodious tune that compels him. “Seungie, slow down, please.”

Heeseung heeds your words, decelerating the speed and taking a brief glance at you before he decides to pull over to the side, where, thankfully, the street is rather a desolate one. You watch him in silence as he releases his clutch from the steering wheel, leaning his head to the back with his eyes closed, before he turns his head to look at you. “What did he say to you?”

You know that he is referring to his father. You fiddle with your fingers as your nerves begin to act up, hyper-aware of the brewing tension sizzling in the air around you. “He told me to stay away from you.”

Of course, Heeseung knows this since he eavesdropped on you earlier. He hums, his hand reaching out to cradle your cheek, and his thumb moves in a tender stroke on your skin. “And what did my sweetheart tell him?”

You hate how his soft tone feels deceptive, causing you to tread carefully with your next choice of words. “I refused him and told him that you’re nice.” You mumble as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

A pleased smirk plasters on his handsome countenance. “Good girl. Now come here.” Upon his instruction, you unbuckle your seatbelt before moving over to him with his assistance, as he has you perched on top of him.

His heart soars at how docile you are to him while his eyes drink in your beautiful features, which are illuminated by the street lights from the outside. With his eyes boring into yours, he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. “You know, sweetheart, I’m feeling very upset. Can you help to make me feel better?”

“Are you upset because of your father?” The way you tilt your head slightly to one side as your doe eyes sparkle with curiosity brings a fond smile twitching on his lips.

“Many things upset me, like how my brothers were being flirtatious with you,” He leans his body towards you, his hands slithering around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest hits his. “How my father had the audacity to keep us apart,” His voice drops low as he dips his head down to place a kiss on your skin, just above the silver cross resting on your chest, before slowly trailing his kisses upward. “How my stepmother still breathes and acts like she owns the place.”

Despite his warm lips remaining intact on the hollow of your throat, which sends your head spinning, the mention of his stepmother captures your attention. “She’s your stepmother?”

Your hands find their way to settle on his shoulders, gripping them as you begin to be aroused by his tantalising kisses littering the expanse of your neck while you tilt your head for him to gain better access, earning you an approval hum from him.

“W-What about your real mother?” You ask, panting lightly as your chest feels heavier from the rising tension in the car.

“Dead, alive, I don’t know.” Heeseung sighs against your skin. “Couldn’t give a fuck about her since the day she cut off all contact with my brothers and me.”

Your heart aches for him the same way you felt towards Jay before, but soon the sympathy dissipates at the way he is now gripping your hips to grind on him. “Wait, Heeseung─” A gasp leaves your lips as his bulge brushes against your core, causing your cunt to clench beneath the material of your underwear.

“Come on, pretty.” Heeseung leisurely leans back, pulling you down with him while his hands continue to guide your movement. “Grind on me like you're riding my cock.”

Heat weaves across your cheeks at his licentious words, and yet it only turns you on further, motivating you to pick up the momentum, grinding on him with your throbbing pussy, explicitly feeling the sheer girth of his cock hidden beneath the slacks.

“Oh, Hee…” Your lips form an ‘o’ shape with light pants and pretty moans emitting from you, your head tilted up with your lidded eyes fluttering at the delicious friction of your clit pressing down on him.

“Fuck,” He grits his teeth, his hips bucking up to move in tandem with you, while his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t stop until you make us both cum, yeah?”

You nod your head, unable to form coherent sentences as needy whines and moans continue to spill from your lips. The hem of your black dress hikes up all the way above your thighs, allowing you more room to spread your legs comfortably while still maintaining the pace. The fact that you look like a bitch in heat humping on him unabashedly doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and instead, it arouses you into grinding on his protruding cock more feverishly.

“Yeahhh, just like that, pretty.” He smirks at you, revelling at how beautiful yet sinful you look. His hands move until they grope your ass cheeks for leverage, pulling you closer and allowing you to feel for his cock and pelvis deeply. “Oh, how perfect you truly are, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at his adoring words, and when your eyes finally settle on his face, butterflies awaken in your tummy at the way he is looking at you with a smirk on his handsome countenance, as if you’re his whole world. Your eyes flicker at the familiar lip ring adorning his bottom lip, and a yearning for his lips on yours is palpable.

You mewl, your thighs beginning to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. “Please kiss me.”

Who is he to refuse his beloved? With one hand placed on your back, he pulls you down fully, his head tilted to a perfect angle for your lips to collide with his, allowing you to taste the fresh cigarette on his lips. You flutter your eyes closed while your hips don’t relent from their feverish movement.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling of his cold lip ring on yours, your lips move in a fervent dance as he kisses you as if he needs air, as if he has waited for so long to devour you. Feeling his teeth biting down on the suppleness of your bottom lip, you whimper as your lips part open for him to explore your hot cavern.

You moan wantonly as his tongue meets you in an intimate tango while your orgasm is nearly impending, prompting you to roll your hips deeper as your clit grazes against his bulge even more deliciously.

“Cumming, pretty?” He whispers hotly into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair to grip it. His tongue licks the seams of your bottom lip, which look swollen from his biting earlier. “Come on, cum with me.”

With the last friction of your clit along his girth, your stomach tightens as you finally come undone with him, feeling your slick arousal leaking from your folds that form a sticky wet patch on your underwear. The exertion dawns on you as you allow yourself to lean on his body with your head resting on his shoulder.

He plants a kiss on your exposed shoulder while caressing your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really needed that.” With his arms wrapped around your waist, your heart remains a fluttery mess as you are cocooned in his warm embrace.

The two of you remain unmoving, basking in each other’s touch and scent, with Heeseung occasionally leaning down to press his lips on your shoulder, an affectionate gesture that intensifies the butterflies in you.

“Do you want to go back now?” He asks gently, looking at you as you slowly raise your head.

You shake your head, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the fact that you desire to feel his lips again. Being brazen enough, your fingers clutch at his collar shirt. “I want you to kiss me again.” But you utter your words meekly, drawing a teasing smirk from his lips.

“What was that?”

The way you huff annoyedly is rather adorable in his eyes. The sound of your whine goes straight to his cock. “I want you to kiss me again.” You reiterate loudly. “Please?”

Raising his upper body, Heeseung latches his hand at your nape to pull you closer until his lips collide with yours, and this time, he kisses you tenderly slowly, taking his time to savour this moment, and yet as he deepens the kiss, the connection between the two of you amplify.

You hum into the kiss, your movements are desperate as you cling onto him with your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer. All the caution you initially had for him is thrown in the wind, and you allow yourself to fully acknowledge that you desire this man to claim you as his best friends did.

He chuckles breathily into the kiss at your eagerness, his hold on your waist is one of reverence. “Slow down, sweetheart.” He murmurs into the kiss while you don’t relent. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You decide to take charge, forcing him to lean back before you trail your kisses down his neck until you stop at his Adam’s apple that is bobbing up and down. Your tongue takes a teasing lick, eliciting a breathy moan from him at the sensitivity, before you lick again and give it a kiss.

“Oh, fuck.” He curses out breathlessly, feeling his cock erect underneath the material just by the sensation of your lips on his throat. This time, he isn’t sure if he can hold himself back as you continue to litter your kisses and licks all over his neck. “Sweetheart, we should stop.”

“No.” You mumble, slotting your lips over his parted ones and kissing him hard before poking your tongue into his mouth. The wet smacking sound and breathy moans elicited from the two of you are obscene, reigniting your arousal once more.

“Again?” Heeseung groans as soon as he feels you grinding your cunt on his erection while you play with his lip ring, licking and biting it. His eyes darken at the sight of you fluttering your eyelashes at him seductively as you bite down his bottom lip and pull it teasingly before you engulf him with your tongue once more.

“Cum with me, Seungie.” You mewl into his mouth as you increase the pace, allowing his cock to feel your drenched cunt explicitly. Heeseung desires to take charge, but seeing you in this light does something to him.

Rolling his hips up, Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply as white ropes of cum spurt from his cock, staining his already dampened briefs. Seeing as you manage to arouse pleasure in him, you follow suit, your underwear completely drenched as you come undone for the second time.

“Good girl.” He pants lightly, eyeing you lazily as he caresses your cheek while a soft smile beams on your face before you lean in to kiss his lips.

“Can I suck your cock now, Seungie?” You ask sweetly against his lips, driven to give him the best possible blowjob of his life after having been taught and experienced with his best friends.

“Next time, pretty.” Heeseung plants a kiss on your forehead. “We should head back.”

“Then can I suck your cock while you drive?” Your offer only seems to entice him more than it should. You force his hands away from you before you move over to the passenger seat.

“Sweetheart─” He groans, falling into the temptation as your fingers find their way to unzip his pants before they pull down his dampen brief, releasing his still erection from the confines.

Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of his long, veiny cock, with the tip raging red. Although you are doubtful if you can even handle him, a newfound vigour possesses you as you lean towards him and dip your head down with one hand holding the base. You kiss the tip wetly, enhancing his sensitivity as he bucks his hips up, before you decide to lick the tip and suck on it like you would do to a lollipop.

Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply at the sensational pleasure while he feels greatly impressed by your skills. “You are going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He sighs pleasurably as the tip hits the roof of your mouth before you begin to deep-throat him. A muscle pulses in his jaw as he starts the ignition of his car. “Don’t stop until we reach the palace.”

In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have surmised that the anonymous person was indeed Heeseung just because the endearment 'sweetheart’ induced the paranoia in you. Plus, it seems illogical that Heeseung was responsible for those texts when his loyalty and love for his best friends have been amply shown in the way he speaks about them, whereas the anonymous person had been so adamantly persuading you to leave them.

Or maybe Heeseung is indeed the anonymous person who harbours ill-feelings towards his best friends for reasons that are kept hidden in a pandora box and chose to play mind games with you. Perhaps it could be the reason why you haven’t been receiving any texts from the unknown number because you have long since been within his reach.

No matter, you regard it as something trivial. Besides, Heeseung has been nothing but nicer to you and always ensures that you are comfortable, be it inside the palace or outside. And so you shall resort to the presumption that Heeseung is not the creepy anonymous person.

“Sweetheart.” Heeseung’s warm greeting gently pulls you out of your rumination. The sound of his soft, gentle voice is a euphony to your ears that makes you feel as though you are floating as you grace your way towards him.

Your heart bears the familiar flutters as you do a quick examination of his overall beach fit. With the exception of his wonted black cap adorning his head, he is clad in a black printed short-sleeve beach shirt that complements his shorts. The serpent pendant rests on his chest with the chain hooked around his neck, while his earlobes are bare of the usual metal studs and earrings. The tattoo inked on his neck looks distinct under the fluorescent lights overhead.

You never would have thought that he would undeniably be the man of your wildest dreams.

As soon as you are within an arm’s reach, Heeseung swiftly grabs a hold of your hand and pulls you to him, eliciting endearing giggles from you that bring a smirk to his lips.

“Heeseung.” You greet him heartily, beaming with a smile on your radiant countenance as he has you locked in his embrace with one arm while the other cradles your face to angle your head before he leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you deeply while the background fades into oblivion.

He hums against your lips before pulling away just slightly for his lips to ghost over yours, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” His husky voice stirs an arousal in your core.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” You reciprocate sheepishly, feeling small under his dark gaze, while a devilish smirk paints his features upon seeing your rosy cheeks that flare due to the effect he knows he has on you.

His eyes rake over you again, completely enamoured by the breathtaking sight of you, all dolled up in a baby blue spaghetti strap dress with a rather low neckline that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage. Your hair is styled in a lovely braided half-updo that resembles a wreath-like crown, while the short strands of your baby hair are let loose as they hang by your face frame. You apply a minimal amount of makeup that accentuates your features.

When his eyes linger on your pink glossed lips, he is reminded of how sinful they were last night. The recollection of your doe eyes staring up at him as you swallowed all of his cum deep into your throat entices him to reenact last night’s pursuit while on your way to the beach.

“New car?” You inquire in genuine surprise as your eyes sparkle at the sight of a sleek grey Range Rover SUV behind him, oblivious to the erotic thoughts occupying his head at this moment. “I’ve never seen that car before.” You remark, diverting your attention to him.

“It was parked in the other garage, where we store other vehicles we rarely use.” Heeseung tells you in an idle manner, his attention is intently on you. “Are you sure you want to come along with us? The other knights will be there.”

Right. Apparently, Heeseung had plans on staying in the palace with you for the whole day, but earlier in the morning, he received incessant missed calls from three specific individuals before he reluctantly answered one of their calls, only to be persuaded to join the beach party the other knights were hosting. Heeseung did ask you since he didn’t want you to feel lonely in the palace, and he was a tad surprised at your enthusiasm despite knowing how other knights have treated and behaved around you in the past.

Heeseung can see a fleeting uncertainty in your eyes before you give him a firm head nod with a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. It’s a bummer that Jaeyun, Jay, and Sunghoon won’t be there.”

His eyes narrow at your kissable lips, forming a small pout. Adorning a lazy smirk on his lips, he cups your cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty. They’ll be back in no time. Besides,” He leans down to nuzzle his nose with yours, drawing faint giggles from you. “You have me. I’ll keep you occupied, and you’ll eventually forget about them.” His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Just as you lean in to press your lips on his, familiar voices pop the intimacy bubble that you are in, prompting you to look to the side where three silhouettes enter the opened garage before their faces greet you, each sporting distinctive beach fits.

“Y/N? You’re coming with us as well?” Jungwon inquires as he raises his eyebrow at you while you nod your head in response. He appears to be holding a volleyball in one hand while the other is occupied with a bag. 

“You look lovely, darling.” Sunoo compliments you with a simper smile, but you have an inkling that he is trying to get a reaction out of Heeseung, and you know that you are right the moment Heeseung wraps his arm around your waist with his head dipping down to press a kiss on your shoulder, displaying his possession over you.

“Sunoo was only joking, Heeseung.” Riki rolls his eyes as he smacks the back of Sunoo’s head, eliciting a wince from the latter. Riki briefly glances at you, his face remains impassive. “You look nice.”

Your eyes widen at the mere compliment from Riki, which you totally didn’t expect, given that Jaeyun once told you that Riki rarely gives compliments, even towards his own friends.

Still holding you in his possession with his nose and mouth burying in your hair, Heeseung manages to shoot them a withering glare, prompting the three to avert their gaze as they haphazardly make their way to the SUV.

Finally settling inside the Range Rover, everything smells anew, as if the car had been purchased just earlier. As Heeseung starts the ignition, you proceed to buckle your seatbelt while the three musketeers are seated in the backseat. The commotion from behind consists of Sunoo and Jungwon bickering, and when you take a glance at them, you stifle a chuckle at the amusing sight of Riki seated in the middle seeming to be asleep while the other two continue to bicker.

“Sweetheart, give me your hand.” Heeseung, who is driving you out of the palace, extends his hand out to you with his palm facing upward.

With a soft smile, you place your hand on his palm before he intertwines your fingers together. Your heart beats in a cadence that is beginning to feel familiar as you watch him place a kiss at the back of your hand while his other hand clutches the steering wheel in an expert motion.

“You can go to sleep, if you want.” Heeseung tells you, still holding your hand that is placed above his thigh, as he provides you with comforting warmth from his touch and how perfectly your hand fits his.

“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy.” You decline politely, but the weight pulling down at your eyelids contradicts your words, and soon you find yourself drifting into the familiar realm of sleep.

It seems as though the journey to the beach isn’t that far off, as you are jolted awake by the sound of the car door slamming closed, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open only to be greeted by the sight of the coast from afar. Soon, you and Heeseung trail behind Sunoo and Jungwon while Riki has gone ahead.

“Don’t leave my side.” Heeseung’s breath tickles your earlobe as he speaks softly. His arm around your waist is a display of possession that feels firmer as soon as you enter the scenery of throngs of knights members dominating this entirety of the beach.

“I won’t.” You reassure him with a sweet smile, earning you a kiss on the forehead from him.

“Good. I don’t trust any of them around you except Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.” Heeseung murmurs to you before his attention is focused on the knights ahead of you as they wave at him and salute him in different forms of greeting.

Although you feel relief that they don’t seem to gawk their eyes at you or throw any crude remarks at you, you can’t help but notice that the way they avoid staring at you seems deliberate. Little do you know that Heeseung has given them silent warnings just with his steely eyes.

“Heeseung! You came!” Yeonjun’s greeting is one of exuberance as he approaches Heeseung from the side, and you feel Heeseung loosening his grip on you unlike earlier.

“If it weren’t for Jungwon, I wouldn’t be here.” Heeseung tells him with a scoff, his attention solely on Yeonjun as they begin to converse while you distract yourself as your eyes sweep over to the bunch of them in an effervescent element engaging in a sport of volleyball. There is also music blaring from the speakers, adding more vibrancy to the lively atmosphere.

“Anyway, you’re with Y/N now?” Yeonjun’s inquiry grabs hold of your attention. “I know it’s not in any of my business, but what about the others?” You know that he is referring to three specific individuals. “That reminds me. Is this going to end up just as it did before─”

“Sweetheart, are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” Heeseung ignores Yeonjun deliberately, to which you frown in visible confusion. You don’t miss the way Heeseung casts a warning glare at Yeonjun before looking at you with softened eyes. “Do you feel hot?”

“I'm okay, Hee.” You smile awkwardly as he proceeds to bring you away from Yeonjun, and despite your desire to know what Yeonjun meant, you don’t want to piss off Heeseung more than he already is, as evident in the way he holds you.

“Heeseung! Come on!” Jungwon calls Heeseung over to his team. Heeseung seems contemplative as he comes to a halt, his eyes glancing at you. Before he can make a decision, Riki emerges from behind and slings his arm around Heeseung. “Y/N will be fine.” As if Riki read his mind, Heeseung immediately releases you before the younger drags him towards the volleyball section.

As much as you love Heeseung clinging to you, you can’t deny that you feel suffocated at times, especially when the wave of possessiveness rolling from him often knocks the breath out of you. You smack your cheeks lightly, inwardly groaning at the thought of having four men clinging to you, possibly 24/7.

“Why are you slapping yourself?” Taehyun’s voice startles you as your body jolts. You look at the side, only to be greeted with the infectious smile on his charming countenance. “Nice to see you here, Y/N.”

“Taehyun,” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I wasn’t slapping myself.”

“Sure, you weren’t.” Taehyun jokingly rolls his eyes before beckoning you to follow him. “Since you’re looking a little lonely, wanna join us? Plus, your presence could really lift Beomgyu’s mood since he has been a little upset since you rejected his offer the other day.”

“The offer─Oh.” Realisation dawns on you as you recall. With a small smile at Taehyun, you proceed to follow him as he brings you over to the familiar bunch. You ignore the fact that they are shirtless since, after all, they will be venturing out to the waves with surfboards in their grasp. Beomgyu is one of them.

“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” One of them, whom you recognise as Jeongin, casts you a smirk, and his remark draws the others’ attention to you.

“I thought there would be no ladies.” Hyunjin muses, and a predatory glint in his eyes brings you discomfort.

“Don’t you know that she’s an exception now?” Soobin’s tone sounds rather mocking before the collective snickering emitting from them comes, rendering you disheartened at the fact that words have spread to the devil’s knight club about your explicit association with their leaders.

“Enough.” The austerity in Beomgyu’s tone is enough to silence them. “Any disrespect towards Y/N won’t be tolerated.”

“You heard my best friend. Now play nice.” Taehyun’s words of advice are dismissed by them as they proceed to venture out to the waves in the ocean that are approaching while your attention is fixed on Beomgyu.

“Sorry about them. They really need to learn how to shut the fuck up sometimes.” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I really didn’t expect to see you here. So Heeseung wasn’t joking when he said you’d be busy with him, huh?”

“It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’m used to it.” You chuckle dryly. “I heard from Taehyun that a certain someone was being sulky because of me.”

Beomgyu seems almost sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Nah, it’s not because of you. Tae totally made that up.” You grow amused as he glares at Taehyun, who feigns innocence in the way he blinks his eyes.

“As much as I would like to talk more with you, a man’s gotta surf.” Beomgyu shoots you a mirthful grin. “You are welcome to watch us surf, by the way.”

“Um…” Your eyes dart at Heeseung from afar, noticing him in his sporty element as he serves the volleyball expertly while his black cap has long since fallen to the sand. Well, since Heeseung is entirely occupied, it won’t hurt for you to watch the other guys surf, right?

Not too long later, you are seated on a small picnic mat by the coast, thanks to Taehyun’s offer, so you won’t have to dirty your dress. Your mouth is agape as you watch in amazement at the sight of them surfing, and at times you find yourself worrying whenever they fall off their surfboards, resulting in them plunging into the relentless waves.

But then, a sense of neglect comes as you pout your lips, getting distracted by the thought of Heeseung. Heeseung has yet to come for you, leaving you to wonder if he has forgotten about you since he is too busy with his fellow knights. The sun on the horizon has even begun its descent as time has passed by quickly.

“Look who is being sulky now.” Beomgyu’s teasing voice pulls you out of your thoughts before you are aware of his presence next to you. When you look at him, his hair is wholly drenched while droplets of water trickle down his skin. “What’s wrong?”

You feel compelled to confide in him after how nice he has been to you. “It’s nothing important.”

“Then why are you still pouting?” Beomgyu points out, his finger is touching your lips. “Don’t pout. You’re not five.”

You gasp in disbelief before shoving him by the shoulder playfully. “Rude.” You give him a scowl, but his chuckles are so infectious that you find yourself joining him. “I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to come off like a needy girlfriend when I'm not, but I feel kind of neglected.” You begin to unravel your thoughts after the two of you have calmed down.

Beomgyu examines your crestfallen eyes before the view of your side profile greets him as you gaze out at the beautiful dawning horizon. “It’s about Heeseung.” He points out the obvious, and the certain edge in his tone goes unnoticed by you. “You two used to be rivals, so what changed now?”

A soft smile touches your lips. “I guess you can say feelings have changed. It turned out, I didn’t really hate him as much as I thought I did.”

Beomgyu merely hums. “Heeseung is a great guy. You can be assured that he’ll take good care of you.” You can’t help but discern the lack of sincerity in his compliment.

Nevertheless, you continue to vent your feelings to him, inattentive to your surroundings, which include the danger hurling towards you. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. Is it even possible to like four people at once─”

“Y/N, look out!” It all happens too fast for you to comprehend, because one moment you feel assured by his oddly comforting presence to confide in him, and the next, you find yourself being pinned down to the sand, your eyes widening as he hovers on top of you.

“W-What just happened?” Confusion laces in your voice while there is unsettling turmoil in your tummy, and you have no idea whether it’s the position you are in or the fact that you feel a pair of heated eyes at you that is not Beomgyu’s.

“Volleyball.” Beomgyu says as you follow the movement of his eyes before you spot the volleyball just a few metres from you. “You almost got hit.”

“Ah, thanks.” You utter distraughtly as he slowly backs away from you. You cast him a small yet curt smile before rising from the ground. “I’m just gonna head off to the washroom.”

“Oh, do you need me to come with you?” He asks, standing as well.

You immediately shake your head. “It’s okay! I just want to wash my face.” You attempt to politely refuse him, but even you know that your words are uttered in a ramble. Without waiting for his response, you quickly navigate your way to the washroom, which is thankfully not that far off from where you are.

Still, you can’t shake off the feeling of eyes on your figure, and the first person that comes to mind is Heeseung. Colours begin to drain from your face at the realisation that he may or may not have seen what happened, but it was not as if you and Beomgyu did anything beyond appropriate.

Your heart nearly jumps at the sound of your phone chiming in your pocket, and your first thought is the anonymous person. Groaning out, you fish out your phone and unlock your phone screen, but the notification comes from someone you didn’t expect, and just seeing his name is enough to bring dread to you.

HEESEUNG: Now where do you think you're going, pretty?

Chills run through you as you slowly turn around before finally spotting Heeseung not far from you, as he is still being surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces. The bill of his cap casts a shadow over his face as he appears to be speaking with them while a smirk occasionally tips at his lips. He appears to be looking down at his phone before his dark eyes finally meet yours fleeting, and it is enough for you to be alarmed.

Ding! You look down at your phone screen again to read his text.

HEESEUNG: Go back to the car and get into the backseat.

Even though it is an odd instruction, you don’t question it further as you find yourself walking in haste, almost as if you are getting away from your predator before it captures you. But wait…perhaps you should devise an escape scheme, or maybe you shouldn’t, but the sudden adrenaline rush in you feels overpowering.

Ding! You check your phone again, and this time, you know you are in for something.

HEESEUNG: Keep walking, and don’t even think of trying to escape.

That is when you know he’s not far behind you. You begin to pick up the pace while your heart pounds harder against your chest. It isn’t long before you finally reach the SUV and head for the backseat, where the door has been unlocked.

You can hear your pulse drumming in your ear as you regulate your breathing, while the stillness in the car feels rather suspended as you wait in uncertain anticipation. Seated on the right side, the door beside you swings open, startling you. Upon his ominous arrival, you slowly yet discreetly scoot away from him.

“Heeseung─” You gasp loudly while your heart lurches in your chest as you find yourself being pinned to the seat with his fingers seizing your neck in a threatening hold. Your body feels as though you have been paralysed underneath him. You open your mouth to speak, but he silences you with his lips and thrusts his tongue into your mouth forcibly, allowing you to taste the fresh taste of his cigarette while his cap falls off his head.

The tension crackling in the air is like electricity, one that sends you perpetual shivers all over your body. The disoriented sound emerging from the back of your throat is a mingling of both whimper and moan that parallels your confusion and fright for the enraged male who is kissing you as though he is punishing you.

Tears prick in your eyes as he bites down your bottom lip painfully, nearly drawing out blood. You attempt to push him away from you, but his grip on your neck tightens, nearly blocking the airways that have faint black dots appearing in your vision.

You hate it. You hate it that you feel petrified of Heeseung at this very moment, knowing that he can easily snap your dainty neck with just one move. You whimper, accepting defeat, as he manages to draw out blood from your bottom lip while it throbs.

“What the fuck was that?” His gravelly, deep voice sounds rough as he speaks into your mouth, while your lips feel swollen by his unforgiving kisses and bites.

“Heeseung.” You whimper helplessly, still trying to resist him as you valiantly push him in the chest, but he grabs both of your wrists with ease and has them locked above your head with one hand.

His tongue licks at the seam of your lip, tasting your blood. “I just can’t leave you alone for a while, can I?” He scoffs out, the corner of his lips upturning a smirk while his callous eyes penetrate into your glistening ones. “And you dared to go to Beomgyu after I told you not to go near him? Fuck, you really like to test my patience that much, don’t you?”

“I didn’t!” You try to deny it despite feeling lightheaded at the restricting air in you, but that only earns you a degrading scoff from him. He releases your neck, allowing you to regulate your erratic breathing while you hear some shuffles before you feel his hands invading underneath your dress to search for your underwear just to practically tear it apart, eliciting a gasp from you.

“Heeseung!” You attempt to close your legs, hating that your body and awaiting cunt are anticipating him. Your disobedience earns you a slap on your thigh before he forces your legs apart as you are fully bare from below.

Your hips jerk at the sensitivity of his thumb stroking your clit before the pad of his fingers slides down on your slit, every rub he administers feels deceptive. “Seungie─Ah!” You yelp out as soon as his hand lands a sharp smack on your pussy while the sound echoes in the car.

“Oh, sweetheart, I was hurt.” He sighs as his fingers rubbing your slit feel deliberate, almost cunning, before he smacks your pussy again, and this time twice as hard that you swear you feel the searing burn. “You smiled, laughed, and even fucking touched him.”

A whimper leaves your lips, hating yet loving the pain as he abuses your pussy again, but soon the arousal comes forth, and when he lands a sharp smack to your clit, you arch your back while a moan tears from your throat.

“You’re not supposed to like this, sweetheart.” He scoffs out a smirk before delivering another smack on your clit. “Only desperate, pathetic sluts are supposed to find this enjoyable. Are you one?”

“N-No!” You gasp as he plunges two fingers deep into your sopping heat, scissoring you at an unforgiving pace yet with precision that has you going lightheaded.

“Yeah, you are slut. A dirty fucking slut.” He sneers down at you, watching as your face contorts into pleasure as you moan out with your head thrown to the back. Your hands move haphazardly to latch on his moving wrist, needing him to shove his fingers deeper while his dark chuckles send shivers through you before he withdraws from you. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take the whole of me and everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”

Panic blooms in your chest as you lift your head to get a better view of his cock as he settles in between you. You try to scramble away from him, fearing the possibility of him tearing your insides apart upon seeing the thickness and length of his enraging cock, but he effortlessly pulls you by the legs and spreads them wider, and he thank fuck that the SUV is spacious enough.

“Heeseung, please!” Fear laces in the tremor of your voice as your hips jolt at the sensation of him smacking the head of his cock on your sensitive nub, and yet, you can feel your cunt throbbing incessantly with need and anticipation. “Hee─”

You can feel it — the head of his cock breaching in between your fluttery walls — and he doesn’t relent even as you whimper out your pleas, which only turns him on. He grits his teeth, feeling the resistance of your fluttery walls hugging him tight, but with an unbridled urgency, his cock manages to bury inside of you fully with one vigorous yet swift thrust. “Oh, fuck,” He hisses lowly, feeling your tight resistance around him.

You feel like a sweet virgin when, in fact, your pussy has been used an uncountable number of times by his best friends, and that itself ignites a blazing jealousy in him. He does an experimental thrust as he watches your face contort into pain while a feeble yet cute moan spills from your lips and your eyes flutter closed with your back arched before drawing his cock out with a long drag against your walls, the head remaining inside before he decides to expunge any mercy as he delivers a hard, deliberate thrust, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Seungie.” Tears are welling in your eyes as the painful stretch persists while your cunt so desperately tries to accommodate his cock. With his body hovering on top of you, your arms hook around his broad, dependent shoulders while your legs slowly wrap around his waist, drawing a smirk on his lips at how you evidently submit yourself to him. 

“Gonna make sure you remember that you belong to me and ruin you for anyone.” His tone holds dark promises while his hauntingly beautiful eyes darken with an insatiable desire, distracting you momentarily from the pain in the way he is drilling his cock into your sopping cunt with his hips slamming down painfully on yours. “Just wanna lock you up and keep you hidden from everyone else.”

“Ugh! Hee!” A loud moan emerges from the back of your throat as he fucks his pent-up emotions into you, prompting you to unhook your arm from his shoulder to muffle your mouth with the back of your hand while tears continue to accumulate in your lower lids. Each thrust he delivers incites your quivering muscles, causing them to contract and enclasp his cock.

Heeseung narrows his eyes at you, not liking the fact that you are pathetically trying to muffle the sweet sounds from your mouth. With one hand beside your head to support his weight, he uses the other to pull your hand away from your panting mouth and intertwine your fingers with his before placing them above your head.

“Please! Please! Please!” You begin to blabber, any remnants of resistance in you dissolve as each pelting thrust builds new heights of pleasure while your hips move in tandem with his.

Heeseung captures your lips in a sloppy kiss that punctuates the cold, stagnant car. With your lips parting open, he swallows every breath and moans from you, his tongue probing in your hot cavern and clashing with your tongue. Without letting up the pace of his thrust, he begins to make out with your tongue, exchanging saliva and sucking your tongue, which creates a sound so lewd in your ears.

“Yeahhhh, sweetheart,” He whispers amorously into your moaning mouth, his voice laden with lust, loving the way you every so often roll your eyes to the back while your arch causes your boobs to press against his chest. “Feels good, yeah? You love my cock?”

You nod your head as you feel delirious. “Mmhmm! I love it!” You moan out, feeling a knot form in your tummy.

“That’s fucking right. My cock, not Beomgyu’s or anyone else’s.” He snarls coldly as he releases your bound wrists, only for his hand to make its descent, his fingers now curling around your throat. “Only I can satisfy you.”

“Hee!” You gasp out as he squeezes your neck, nearly blocking the airways and rendering your breath ragged. The fear is soon eclipsed by intense pleasure as he has you in a chokehold. Just as black dots begin to appear in your vision, he loosens his grip on your neck just slightly. Your swollen, irresistible lips entice him to seal you in a searing kiss.

“Ugh! Hee!” Your moans sound like a broken record against his lips, your impending orgasm teetering at the edge. “I’m─”

“Oh no, you don’t.” His cruelty shines through his smirk while he doesn’t let up his thrust. “You don’t deserve to cum. You’re going to be my dump cum slut, and your sweet cunt is going to milk every drop of my cum.”

“Seungie! Please!” A sob spills from your numb lips, with tears leaking from your eyes. Like a bitch in heat, you rut your hips against him, intensifying your teetering orgasm. “I-I’m sorry! You’re the only one I want!”

“Yeah? Then fucking say it.” He grunts out, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your temple. “Say that you won’t be anywhere near Beomgyu or any man who is not us.”

“I promise I won’t!” You give him your word so easily without much consideration, the earnest in your punctuation seems to satisfy him. He removes his hand from your neck and drags his fingers down your quivering stomach until they reach your clit  “Ugh! Please, Hee! I want to cum!”

Heeseung only smirks in response as he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb in patterns before pressing it down deeper, eliciting a loud moan from you. “Yeahhh, go ahead, pretty baby. Cum for me.” 

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as you feel something overpowering, causing your body to writhe underneath him while every fibre of your being sizzles with white-hot pleasure. “Heeseung!” You scream as soon as you feel it.

“Yeah, babyy. Fucking squirt for me.” Heeseung grits his teeth as he doesn’t let up his administration on your bundle of nerves, even as you squirt for him, bathing him with your essence while your body convulses uncontrollably. “That’s it. Oh, that’s a good slut.”

You whimper weakly in response; your body is totally spent, and you swear you can feel bruises on your hips due to how hard he slammed. Heeseung’s hunger for you is insatiable, as his eyes rake all over you before he unsheathes his cock from your fluttery hole. 

Just as you think Heeseung is done, he leans forward, his hands around your spent body, and manhandles you into a position that has you perched on his lap. Despite your weakened limbs, you attempt to resist him.

“No, please, no.” You protest weakly as his hand holds you by the waist to lift you up with such ease.

“Yeahhhhh baby,” He drawls, a heavy lust projecting in the rasp of his voice. “Gonna fuck you some more, beautiful.”

“W-Wait! Heeseung─!” A broken moan spills past your lips at the sheer girth of his ramming cock that nestles deep inside of you with his firm hands on your hips, forcing you down on him. “Heeseung! Please!”

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so good again.” He smirks against your skin before placing a kiss on your pulse, revelling in the sweet sound of your moans and cries as you plead. “Yeah? My good girl just wants to be fucked, doesn’t she? That’s why you’re fucking soaked all over me.”

“No.” Tears cascade in rivulets down your cheeks as you shake your head, hating and loving the immense pleasure he is giving you for the second time. 

“Yesss.” His teeth sink into your skin, grunting deeply with each hard and deliberate thrust he delivers into your overstimulated yet soaked cunt that feels unforgiving. His fingers are tangled in your hair to grip it as he forces you to face the roof of the car while the other hand cages your waist.

This time, the way he is fucking into you feels more for his pleasure, as though you are his fucktoy. The continuous sound of splat!-splat! as you bounce onto his cock is disgustingly lewd. With your neck bare in his hungry eyes, he latches his lips on your throat, humming against you and sending vibrations to your throat before trailing his kisses across your neck. He releases his grip from your hair as he dips his head down, allowing his face to burrow into the nook of your neck with sweat trickling down your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He announces huskily while his hot breath hits the sheen of your skin. His arms slither around your waist to pull your body closer to his while his hips relentlessly buck up, and you swear you can feel his cock bruising your cervix.

With a languid moan, you force yourself to wrap both arms around his neck, hugging him close as you await his arrival. Hearing his low guttural moan, he holds you down firmly without any possible escape for you as he finally shoots a white rope of cum into you, sealing your fate with his.

Silence engulfs the two of you with the accompanying sound of your laboured breathing. He doesn’t say anything, only hugging you with his face still buried in the nook of your neck. You take this moment to observe your surroundings, and your eyes widen at the condensation from all the fucking evident on the car windows, but thankfully, they’re factory-tinted glasses, so it is nearly impossible for anyone to learn of your dirty tango inside the car unless they come closer.

“Heeseung.” Panic is evident in your voice while your eyes widen at the sight of knights entering the parking lot, as they seem to be heading back since the weather has turned gloomy with droplets of rain descending.

Heeseung merely hums, completely unbothered, as he kisses your neck leisurely before deciding to add another of his marks to your delicate skin, distracting you from panicking at the pleasurable sensation of his lips assaulting the sensitive part of your neck.

“Heeseung!” You whisper, tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you watch some knights walk past the Range Rover from each side while commotions emanating from them can be heard. “Heeseung! Stop! They might see us!”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” He murmurs against your skin before pulling away, satisfied to see a fresh hickey embellished on your skin for him to proudly display to anyone that it’s his mark. “Even if they see us, we’ll be giving them a show.”

You gasp at the sensation of him bucking up his hips as he thrusts his cock into your wholly drenched cunt. “H-Heeseung─” Just as he delivers a jarring thrust, a loud moan accidentally tears from your throat before he silences you with his palm covering the whole of your mouth, nearly suffocating you.

“Shhh, you don't want them to know that we’re fucking, right? Or maybe you do?”” He asks mockingly as you shake your head frantically. A muffled moan elicits from you as he thrusts again. “You wanna let everyone know how much of a slut you are for my cock, don’t you?”

Upon feeling your walls clench around his cock at the unceasing degradation, dark chuckles leave his lips. “Yeahh, keep clenching around me like that. You love it when I’m mean to you, yeah?” He asks huskily as he uncovers your mouth, allowing the noise from you to be let loose as he forces you to bounce onto his cock for a few times before he lifts you away from him.

“Get on your fours.” The sheer authority exuding from him compels you to heed his instruction, whimpering as embarrassment washes over you with the entirety of your ass facing him. Your body jolts in surprise just as he delivers a harsh smack on your ass cheek at the same time as the thunderous storm in the sky before heavy rain begins its descent.

Goosebumps arise on your skin at this temperature. Your head is level with the window, allowing you to see some knights walking and running to their vehicles. A moan falls past your lips as soon as his cock rams into you, the squelching sound a testament to your essence emulsifying with his.

“Fucking hell. Just can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, baby.” Heeseung says in between heavy, ragged breaths as he hits it from behind, his hand pressing down on your lower back, forcing you to form a perfect arch of your back. “Oh, you are so perfect for me, my beloved.”

You moan out in response as you move your hips to meet his thrust. “Seungie, more, please! Oh! Right there!”

“Yeah? Right there?” His husky voice causes your cunt to clench around him. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s your spot, isn’t it?”

“Mmmhmm!” You bite down your lower lip, your eyes fluttering close, just as he grabs a chunk of your hair for leverage while his other hand grips your hip. “You fuck me so good, Hee.” You say in a languid slur.

“I know, pretty.” He smirks down at you while his hand searches for your clit to rub it furiously, drawing more moans from you. “I’m gonna cum in you over and over again. You’ll take it like the cum dump you are, will you?”

“Yes.” You nod your head, desiring for him to fill you up to the brim. “Hee, kiss me.” Upon your polite request, he finds it hard to refuse you, and so, with his fingers in your hair, he raises your body until your chest hits his back. He seizes your chin to turn your head to the perfect angle for him to kiss you hard.

“I’m cumming.” You murmur into the kiss, your hand latches onto his wrist as he continues to rub your bundle of nerves.

“Cum with me again, sweetheart.” He pants against your moist lips before you pull away from him and rest the back of your head on his shoulder while your hand reaches up to grip his hair. “Your pussy was made perfect for me and me only.” He continues to deliver his dirty talk into your ear, even as your pussy spasms around him as you come undone with him. 

Heeseung feels your body shivering in his embrace. “Are you cold, my beloved?” He asks softly, taking you by surprise at the instantaneous change of his whole demeanour into the gentle, soft-spoken Heeseung that you have grown affectionate for.

“Yes.” You reciprocate in the same tone despite having to regulate your ragged breathing. As you look at him, the gentleness in his eyes is fleeting before the familiar darkness takes over.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” Within a matter of seconds, he has you settled on his lap and wastes no time in burying his cock into you as he forces you down.

“Seungie.” You whine before he seals you into a kiss, gradually turning into a sloppy make-out session as you feel the sheer exertion from all the fucking.

“Pretty girl,” He sighs pleasurably against your lips, smirking as he slowly bucks up his hip and allowing you to feel his tip hitting your cervix, eliciting a broken gasp from you. “Let’s fuck some more.”

Lee Heeseung is a beast under the disguise of doe-eyed Bambi, you think.

Having the whole palace to yourself is something you never expected. Apparently, Heeseung had to attend a knights’ soirée where only exclusive members were invited, including the alumni, which would be hosted at a private bungalow owned by Sunghoon. That also explains the reason why Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon have been far from your reach since they have been busy planning and organising for the soirée.

Still, you feel a tad sullen that the three of them couldn’t be bothered to call you just once. Upon having seen your not-so-subtle petulance, Heeseung decided to grant you the liberty to do whatever your heart desires, for as long as you steer clear of the second level, specifically the south wing area.

It is odd since you feel as though he was warning you. Your mind begins to recall your conversation with Heeseung earlier.

“But why can’t I?” You inquire, your lips forming a small pout, while your eyes sparkle with genuine curiosity as you watch him trying to secure his tie underneath his white collar shirt in front of the full-length mirror. You can’t help but narrow your eyes at how his attempt seems deliberate, as though he is purposefully failing at tying it.

Heeseung casts a side glance at you as you are seated on top of the dressing table with your legs swinging back and forth lightly in an airy manner and your palms placed on the edge of the table as you slant your body forward. His cock twitches beneath the confines at how lovely yet luscious you look in a pink floral-printed dress with the hems hiked up above your plush thighs.

“It is more for your sake, sweetheart. Besides, you need to enter the correct passcode for you to be able to gain access to the whole place.” There is an undercurrent of warning along the lines, and you know you ought to exercise prudence. Heeseung narrows his sharp eyes at the crease on your forehead. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not!” You deny, huffing pettily. Deciding to put an end to your niggling curiosity, you decide to direct your focus at his rather flimsy hands that are still tying a knot, to which your eyes twitch in irritation. “Hee, you’ve been trying for the past ten minutes!”

“If only someone is kind enough to help me.” A smirk plays on his lips while mischief dances delightfully in his eyes, and that is when you have an inkling that he has been failing on purpose. “Come on, sweetheart. Do I need to be straightforward and ask you the obvious?”

You playfully narrow your eyes at him, but nevertheless, you gravitate towards him until you stand in front of him. You try to ignore the heat of his gaze on your face as you fall into concentration on tying the perfect knot for him. “Stop staring at me.” You mutter, finally finishing the last touch before you adjust his collar shirt.

“I have eyes, pretty. I can stare at you for as long as I want.” Heeseung has you trapped with his hands on your waist. Your rosy cheeks flare under the intensity of his dark gaze as he pulls you closer until your body is flushed against his. “I’m gonna miss you, pretty.”

You scoff lightly as you ignore the untamed butterflies in your tummy. “You're only going to be gone for a day.”

“A day is too long.” Heeseung dips his head down to press a chaste kiss at the corner of your lips. "Mmmhm, maybe I should stay here with you.”

“Heeseung.” You attempt to push him away in the chest, but he doesn’t deter in the slightest as he proceeds to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss. You melt against him with your arms hooked around his neck. “You should go now, handsome.” You manage to speak in between kisses.

“I should.” He agrees before he slowly backs you up without breaking the passionate lip lock until your bum hits the edge of the dressing table. He chuckles breathily into the kiss, his lips turning into a smirk. “Maybe in a while.”

And so, ever since Heeseung stepped out of the threshold, you have ventured your pursuits in your way around the palace with an unbridled enthusiasm ─ playing in the arcade, watching a romcom movie in the private theatre, cooking a simple dish in which you failed miserably, and you even went to their private bar where you attempted at making a cocktail of your own recipe, or at least you tried to, and it tasted rather questionable.

But the enjoyment of having the palace to yourself soon diminishes, hurling you into a state of boredom. It’s even worse when your heart yearns for the four men who manage to weasel their way into your heart despite their differences.

A sigh leaves your lips as your boredom has reached its peak, prompting you to lean forward to grab the controller and switch off the television that has been going animated idly. You rise from the velvet couch and stretch out your limbs before checking the time on your phone, seeing that it has struck 11pm. You have been made aware by Heeseung that he would return late, and so you begin to make your way to the stairs with the intention of heading to your room.

Just as you reach the second level, your phone vibrates in your grasp as it chimes loudly, shattering the quietude. Naturally, you expect the notification from either of the four men, but as soon as your eyes fall to your phone screen, the smile on your lips falters.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s been quite some time since our last text. Missed me, sweetheart?

Now that you are firm in your presumption that this is definitely not Heeseung, a flare of temerity surges through you. With a scowl on your face, you proceed to type out your reply.

Y/N: No, and I know you’re not Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: So you’re absolutely certain that I’m not him?  Y/N: Yup. So whatever mind games you’re playing with me are not going to work anymore. UNKNOWN NUMBER: I miss you, you know? I’m hurt that you’re being so cold over the text, sweetheart. Y/N: You should really stop acting like Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Why? Because he calls you sweetheart the way I do? Does it ever occur to you that I might be him? Y/N: And for what? Heeseung is not the type to waste his time preying on an innocent girl over texts. UNKNOWN NUMBER: 301120

You blink your eyes while confusion fills your head upon seeing the digits.

Y/N: What is it for? UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s the passcode that allows you to gain access to the prohibited part of the palace for anyone, unless you’re a knight.

It seems that your lack of response serves as a hesitation for him before he texts again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Come on, pretty. I know you want to. Besides, you’ve been thinking about it, right? Forget about earlier. I’m now permitting you.

Pretty. Only Heeseung calls me that.

Y/N: How the hell did you know? UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I might or might not be yours truly :) Now go on. Once you reach, I need you to follow my instructions.

Moments later, you find yourself standing outside of the steel-built door. Your eyes dart down at your phone before you proceed to punch the correct passcode at the smart keypad, and at once, the door automatically opens, but the sight that greets you startles you while every fibre of your being sizzles with perturbation.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: See that white door? I need you to go inside.

You don’t question how he knows your every step, as though he is watching you. You take a glance at the distinct white door that contrasts with the others before you advance forward. He sends a text again, entailing his instructions once more, which you obediently heed. Not long later, you have entered a cold, stagnant office that feels oddly eerie, probably due to how dark it is with the moonlight streaming into the window.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Good girl. Now head over to the desk and unlock the computer. The password is your birth date.

“Huh?” Your face contorts into confusion, but you don’t waste time as you gravitate towards the desk that is adjacent to the window. Although you are eager, you feel rather hesitant, while a sense of dread creeps up on you as though at every twist and turn, you feel eyes watching your every movement.

Y/N: I don’t understand. What is on the computer that you need me to do instead of you? UNKNOWN NUMBER: Less typing, more doing the work, sweetheart. Now, I want you to search for the file named 001 and click on it. 

“What?” You whisper, and your heart seems to pound erratically against your chest. You don’t want to believe in his words, but your inner turmoil states otherwise. And so you proceed on, your trembling fingers typing on the keyboard, before you finally succeed in logging in.

The screen displays files that have been arranged in rows. Your eyes search for the aforementioned file before you spot it near the corner. Your hand moves the mouse on the pad to click on it, but once it does, a pop-up webpage appears, requiring you to enter the passcode. You lean back against the swivel chair as you await his next instruction, but minutes have passed and you receive zero notification.

With an impatient huff, you decide to take charge and type in the passcodes you have in mind, but none of them is the right one. Right after your third attempt, you become startled at the warning popup that you have exceeded the number of attempts. Your phone chimes again, and when you look over, his contact shocks and alarms you.

HEESEUNG: Are you asleep, sweetheart? I’m on my way back, and I have a little surprise for you. You’ll see the surprise once you wake up.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath before deciding to forgo everything Anonymous has instructed you, despite your curiosity about wanting to know what sort of content the mysterious file contains. It even remains lingering in your mind as you are cocooned in your fleecy blanket before you drift off to your deep slumber, uncertain of what tomorrow awaits you.

“We’re the ones who organised the event, and yet they’re the stars of the show.” Jake expresses his clear disdain towards the four familiar elders from afar, who are being surrounded by the other alumni as well as their fellow knights. “Maybe we shouldn’t have invited them.”

“You’re right.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly, leaning his back against the chair leisurely with one leg crossed over the other. His callous eyes penetrated into his father’s face. “Maybe I should’ve drugged his drink and killed him.”

“Easy.” Jay says, his eyes holding a warning as he looks over to an annoyed Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t have stopped you anyway, but Heeseung said to steer clear of trouble for tonight.”

Sunghoon snorts a chuckle as he reaches for his glass of wine. “What did I say? The guy would turn soft because of Y/N, and I was right.”

“He always has a soft spot for Y/N.” Jake tells them quietly, and the mention of your name pulls the strings in his heart as he has long since yearned for you. “He likes her even before the preying.”

“And you know this, how?” Jay inquires with a single eyebrow arched, his tone sounds mocking enough to elicit an irritation from Jake. “Right. You and Heeseung must’ve shared secrets during your one-night stand.”

“Fuck you, dude.” Jake cusses out but remains seated, to which Sunghoon is surprised at his lack of retaliation.

“Where is Heeseung, anyway?” The aforementioned disappearance dawns on Sunghoon as he darts his eyes around his surroundings.

“He probably went for a smoke break.” Jay shrugs his shoulders, one hand in his pocket while the other is holding his e-cigarette, before he begins to take a puff of the flavourful aerosol.

“Heeseung.” Jake spots him entering the main section of the soirée, sauntering towards them with ease while his face remains collected. “Where were you?”

“Got a little busy.” Heeseung’s vague answer doesn’t seem to bother them. He settles on a chair next to Jake, his body facing in the direction where his father can be seen in an amiable element. “Wanna know something interesting?”

“Don’t keep us waiting.” Sunghoon’s interest is piqued as he leans his body forward. “What is it?”

A smirk plays on Heeseung’s lips while his fingers are tapping on the table in a calculated motion. “It looks like our angel decided to be a curious kitten and got herself into trouble.”

“What did she do?” Jake inquires, his eyebrows softly knit together as he grows concerned for you despite knowing that you may or may not have broken a rule or two in Heeseung’s book.

Heeseung merely hums in response as he brings his glass of champagne to his lips before taking small sips. Thankfully, he is able to receive a notification from an app that allows him to view any point he wants since he has implemented hidden cameras in his office, or else he wouldn’t have been alerted of your transgression.

“Isn’t that Y/N’s mother?” Jay’s surprised inquiry draws their attention to the lady, whose body is draped in a red satin dress, as she strides across the hall as though she owns the place. There is such a stark contrast in the ambience she exudes compared to her daughter.

Sunghoon lets out a low whistle, his eyes raking all over her. “Damn. She looks even better up close. Now we know where Y/N got her looks from.”

“Fucking hell. Don’t tell me you’re into milfs?” Jake shoves Sunghoon roughly in the shoulder as his face contorts into disgust.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Jay seems rather enraged by her presence, as evident in the way he clenches his jaw while his steely eyes drill into her figure. “She’s the reason why Y/N was a crying mess that one night.”

“Heeseung.” Sunghoon utters his name as they look at him. Although they are the leaders as well, they innately feel compelled to obey and heed Heeseung’s words.

Heeseung simply adorns a simper smile on his lips while he watches your mother engage in what seems like a polite conversation with his father and theirs, but he is no stranger to the longing and lingering stares exchanged between them. “Let’s sit back and watch the whole thing unfold, shall we?”

When morning dawns, the fresh yet lovely fragrance pervading your nostrils rouses you before you flutter your eyes open and turn your head to the side, only to be greeted by the sight of a bouquet of roses at your nightstand.

Any remnants of somnolence dissipate as you are overwhelmed with a giddiness that blooms in your chest. So this was what Heeseung meant by his surprise. Eager to see him, you hop into the shower and freshen yourself up. It takes some time for you since you faced a little difficulty in choosing the casual dress of the day, knowing that Heeseung loves it whenever you wear one.

As soon as you reach outside his room, you see the door ajar before you knock to announce your arrival. “Hee?” Just as you slowly push open, the door swings abruptly, causing you to fall forward into him before he swiftly holds you steady.

“Seungie!” You greet him cheerily, your face beaming a smile that brings a fond one to his lips. 

“A good morning, indeed.” Heeseung chuckles before he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate with fervour. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes softening with adoration as he caresses your cheek. “How was my surprise?”

“I love it! Thank you so much.” You grin bashfully before caving into your impulse to kiss his cheek. “How was last night?” 

“It was fine, but it would have been better if you were there with me.” His face burrows in the nook of your neck while his arms cage your waist as he embraces you. “Now I have all day with you.”

In all honesty, you should have kept your distance from him after what happened last night. The maelstrom of inquiries rampages within the confines of your mind; each is a task to grapple with. You refuse to believe that the anonymous person is him since it is illogical, but a part of you strongly believes that Heeseung is him, merely because he permitted you by giving you the access code and called you ‘pretty’ when only Heeseung loves calling you that, and so you back away from his touch.

You see him raising his eyebrow at you, probably noticing the abrupt change in the way you are being, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m hungry. Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You ask politely, trying your utmost not to cower from him as he steps closer to grab your hand.

“I would love to.” Heeseung intertwines your fingers, a firm latch that has you acquiescing. It is frustrating to you because, despite your current firm belief that he is the anonymous guy, another part of you indignantly wants to be closer to him.

As his arm slithers around your waist, you hesitantly allow yourself to lean into his touch. Maybe it won’t hurt for you to sinfully enjoy the intimate closeness with the guy who you believed had been the one who creeped you out all along.

As time passes, you feel a sense of imminent loom, especially in the way Heeseung acts and how he plays his words in riddles that are awfully like Anonymous did, so it only amplifies your unwavering presumption. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as you trail behind him. You try to sound as if you’re curious, but in actuality, you recognise the route he is taking as he seemingly guides you.

“To the wonders of horror.” Heeseung looks over your shoulder with a sly grin. Again, you are thrown into the whirlwind of confusion at his words, which is evident on your face and brings out a lighthearted chuckle from him. “I’m kidding, but aren’t you curious about what the prohibited part of the palace holds?”

You give him a bewildered stare. “But you said that I should steer clear of the south wing.”

“And I’m permitting you now.” His words give you a whiplash. “Don’t worry. I’m obviously one of the authorizers, so you won’t be getting into trouble.” A smirk touches his lips.

It isn’t long before you finally reach outside of the familiar steel-built door. Despite knowing the passcode, you look away as he proceeds to punch in the code on the smart padlock before hearing the door automatically open.

You clear your throat as you fall in the same steps as him. “I didn’t expect for the inside to be this big.” You remark, feigning surprise in your tone as you ostensibly look around in wonderment.

“Only the knights have access to this place.” Heeseung informs you, and from the looks of it, he seems to believe in your ruse. “We have five meeting rooms in total. Four for our respective house meetings and one for general meetings, which we usually gather on every Devil’s Night.”

“I see.” You nod your head in understanding the new information. Heeseung proceeds to give you more information with each room you walk past. You shudder lightly when he points out the rooms where they store different classes of weapons.

“That’s my office.” Heeseung tells you as he points his thumb in the direction of where the familiar white door is. “Regular knights aren’t permitted to enter unless they want to face the consequences.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat harshly. “Oh.” is what you manage to utter. Thankfully, Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice the tremor in your voice as he proceeds to guide you in the other direction, where his house meeting room is.

You look away just as he punches in the code on the smart padlock before the door opens, allowing you to enter first. “Why did you bring me here?” You ask as you remain stationary in your spot, your eyes examining the room and noting how spacious it is with lavish ornaments, including velvet couches arrayed at each side, distinct designed masks and paintings hanging on the walls, and a fairly lengthy table with a glossy marbled surface that is in the centre of the room.

“Oh, you know, just showing you what’s in this room before you could get too curious again.” Heeseung states calmly as he saunters towards the table, whereas you go completely frigid at the undercurrent that coils dread in you. “This meeting room is soundproof.”

As Heeseung finally faces you, his hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans his lower back on the edge of the table, allowing you to get a clearer discernment of his demeanour that drains the colour of your face.

He knows.

“Why did you tell me that?” You inquire, and your voice shakes with a palpable tremor that brings him wicked delight.

“Because I would hate for you to lose your voice from screaming so much.” A fleeting smile of wickedness touches his lips before a shadow casts over his demeanour. Your pulses drum in your ear as you notice the drastic shift in his gear, as though he is an entirely different person. No longer is there warmth or affection in his eyes. Just stark coldness.

“Heeseung….” You utter his name in a splintered whisper, taking one feeble step back, as if taking prudence in any case he decides to chase you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t think that I wouldn’t know?” Heeseung adorns a cynical smile on his hauntingly cold countenance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words fly from your mouth without any warrant, causing you to bite down on the flesh of your inner cheek.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. But I want to hear the confession from your mouth.” You can see it in his eyes—the storms raging in silence at your audacity. “Did you trespass on my office, Y/N?”

Not sweetheart, pretty, or even beloved. Just your name being uttered in a cold detachment that is painfully foreign to you.

The unsettling tension feels oppressive as it tethers your neck, while the fear that resides in your heart manifests in the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee him, but it is as though you are rendered immobilised under his piercing gaze that is fixed solely on your transfixed figure.

Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you swear that the cold temperature in the room has dropped to subzero. The longer the penetrating silence that shrouds the foreboding atmosphere in the room persists, the more reason for you to grasp the opportunity to escape, especially since he is further away from you and most probably unable to catch up to you.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” His once honeyed-dripping tone sounds eerily dark, with a rasp projecting in his husky voice, evoking involuntary yet familiar lust amidst the palpable terror. “Did you, or did you not trespass on my office?”

“I─” Just when you finally find your voice, it disappears again, prompting you to smack your lips shut and swallow the frightful lump in your throat. Your nails digging into your palms form the shapes of crescents as you clench your fist.

Confusion finds its way to plunge into the whirlpool of torrential emotions within you. You were certain that he was the anonymous guy who had been sending you all those texts, and you even followed his instructions. Could all of these be some sort of twisted test he decided to experiment on you?

Of course, it could be. After all, Lee Heeseung is as detrimental as his comrades.

You mentally nod your head to yourself, firm in your suspicion that Heeseung is indeed the anonymous guy, but you’re not about to let it be known to him.

“I didn’t─”

Heeseung scoffs out a chuckle at your audacity, his lips upturning a smirk while his eyes gleam dangerously with explicable sentiments that have you fully grasping the severity of your situation.

“What did I say about lying? Hmm?” He leans away from the table, his hands remaining tucked in his pockets, as each step he takes towards you is deliberate and stalking, while his dark, piercing eyes penetrate into your frightful ones.

Run! Your mind screams at you to run away from your predator before he devours you.

“T-That you hate liars.” Your timorous voice shakes as you finally regain mobility, now taking steps back. You see it in his eyes — how he finds great delight in your patent fear while the smirk on his wicked yet charming countenance remains.

“And yet you dared to lie.” He tuts, unceasingly stalking towards you, to which you grasp the courage and dash for the door. “Oh, sweetheart, why bother trying when you know you can’t escape?”

You ignore his taunting words from behind as you grasp the handle and try to pull it open, but the familiar sound of ‘ding!’ brings a dreadful realisation to you at the high probability that in order to exit, you must enter the correct passcode on the keypad, the same way when you two entered earlier.

Your pulses drum loudly in your ear as soon as you feel his ominous presence from behind, prompting you to make a run to the side, but his hands manage to seize you.

“Heeseung! Please!” You frantically implore him, struggling against him as the danger in the heat of his touch on your skin intensifies the churns in your stomach.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, look at me.” Heeseung attempts to calm you down as his grip on you tightens due to your persistent attempts to push him away from you.

A whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, turning away from him, but his patience is running thin. “I said, look at me.” He roughly grabs your chin and forces you to meet his hauntingly beautiful eyes while his tone resonates down your core as it has you in a tight grip.

“I’m sorry for entering your office without permission.” You finally deliver your heartfelt apology to him, hoping that he will show you some clemency. Tears begin to accumulate in your eyes as you pleadingly stare at him. “I’m sorry, Hee. I won’t do it again.” 

“I know you are.” He says softly as he caresses your cheek, but even you can discern his hauntingly affectionate gesture. “Why are you crying, my love?”

You only whimper in response as a teardrop slides down your cheek, prompting him to gently wipe it away. “You’re terrified of me.” He states, his tone remains eerily soft while a sinister grin smears across his lips before he leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheek. “Mmhmm, as you should be, baby.” He rasps against your skin.

“H-Heeseung.” You weakly utter, attempting to push him away, but the trails of kisses on your cheek down to your neck enfeeble you as you find yourself succumbing to his dark allure that threatens to engulf you wholly.

“Now, tell me, what was your purpose for snooping around in my office?” He asks in between kisses before stopping at where his mark on your skin is. You shiver at the sensation of his sharp teeth grazing on your skin, a silent warning for you to choose your options wisely.

“I was just curious, I swear.” You try your utmost to tell him earnestly, despite knowing that it isn’t the entire truth. Heeseung seems to believe you as he presses a soft, lingering kiss on his mark before withdrawing from you. A hiccup emerges from your throat, and you stare at him remorsefully. “I’m really sorry, Hee.”

“I know, I know.” His hands descend to your thighs before grabbing them. “Jump.” He forces you anyway, which has you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist with his hand holding your waist while the other grips your thigh for more security before carrying you across the room where the centre table is.

It is as though he has bewitched you with some sort of spell, as you are unable to look away from his eyes. His dark allure continues to pull you into him as he sets you down on the table. His hand deftly supports your back from falling behind while your palms are pressed on the surface behind you.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your mind fogging with lust and perturbation as his touch on your body feels igniting.

“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have lied to me, and even worse when you tried to run away from me.” He says softly, kissing the back of his mouth while his eyes drink in at how beautiful you look being trapped by him.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “But I told you I was sorry.” You whimper, hating how your desire for him is strong despite your fear.

Heeseung ignores your words as he takes you by surprise when he roughly pulls you to him until your legs go rooted to the floor. A gasp leaves your lips at how deftly he is manhandling you as he turns you around, one hand on your waist tight and fingers curling around your neck in a threatening manner.

Your heart pounds harder against your chest as you feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe. “It doesn’t change the fact that you made me angry, my love.” His honeyed-dripping voice lulls at you, akin to a siren serenading its victim.

“Oh, yes. I’m still very angry at you.” He whispers darkly into your ear before he forces your pliant body to bend down until your stomach comes into contact with the surface of the table.

“Heeseung, please.” You have no idea why you are pleading with him. For him to show mercy? For him to fuck you?

His dark chuckles send shivers down your spine as he presses his palm firmly onto your back while the other affectionately rubs your butt cheek. “Plead all you want. By the time I’m done with you, you know better than to cross me again.” You feel his hand moving underneath your skirt before his fingers hook around the string of your underwear. “What’s the safe word?”

“Pink.” You utter, flustered at the fact that you actually do want this. At once, he pulls down your underwear as it falls to your ankles. Your heart races in anticipation as you hear shuffles behind you.

“Sweetheart's been bad. You shouldn't have gone around snooping.” He drawls his words out in a tantalising manner, and you feel your cunt clench at the degradation that laces his tone. His fingers tangle in your hair before bunching the strands in a makeshift ponytail and pulling your head to the back with your neck arched.

“Hee….” You whisper fearfully, yet your cunt remains anticipating his cock. You feel the weight of his body pressing down on yours and his warm breath hitting the shell of your earlobe.

“My pretty sweetheart,” He presses a deep, affectionate kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “You’re going to be good to me, yeah?”

“Yes!” You nod your head frantically, wincing as his grip on your hair hurts your scalp.

“You’re not going to make me angry anymore?” He asks, humming while your pussy throbs when the tip of his cock rubs up and down in between your folds tantalisingly slowly.

“Yes, I won’t make you angry anymore.” You babble, needing him inside of you right now, before enticing him with a soft, whimpering voice you know he won’t be able to resist, “Seungie, please─Ah!”

Blistering pain shoots into your hip bones as they hit the edge of the table with the ramification of his shallow thrust, your walls stretching painfully to adjust to his girth upon the abrupt breach. Without any ounce of clemency in the delivery of your punishment, he begins to rail into your tight cunt, your walls are practically vacuuming his cock with each shallow thrust that hurts so good.

“Ungh! Oh, fuck!” You cry out as your body jolts forward violently, tears accumulating in your lower lids as he relentlessly hits it from behind with an insatiable vigour, while the sound of his balls hitting your jiggling ass echoes throughout the room.

“Dirty, naughty angel. You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.” Heeseung says in between ragged breaths, feeling the wetness along your fluttery walls lathering his cock. Without ceasing his thrust, he delivers a weighted slap on your ass, eliciting a painful yelp from you before he hears sobs spilling from your lips, fueling his lustful depravity into ruining you. “Cry all you want. I’m gonna fucking ruin you and your sweet, filthy cunt for as long as I want.”

“Heeseung! Please!” You implore in between broken moans that mingle with your cries, hating how dementedly rough he is fucking into you and how his demeaning words seem to turn you on as your cunt clenches around him despite the stinging hurt in your chest.

“What the fuck are you pleading for? Dirty sluts like you don’t get to plead.” Heeseung snarls coldly, yanking your hair harder as the action strains your arched neck. The lewd sound of your sopping cunt with each hard thrust he delivers draws a smirk on his lips, one that reflects his cruelty as he revels in the continuous moans and cries emitting from you that resemble a broken record. “Damn, baby. You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“No!” You shake your head frantically, but the motion only hurts your burning scalp due to the roots that nearly feel as though they are about to be ripped off. “Heeseung! Stop! It hurts!” You feel utterly helpless as the painful pull of your hair elevates your body, with your back hitting his chest.

“It hurts, yeah? Hurts so fucking good, hmm?” He nearly growls out in your ear as he releases his grip from your hair only for his hand to make its descent to your nub and rubs your bundle of nerves with the padding of his skillful fingers, amplifying your pleasure that hurls you to the new height of delirium. 

“Heeseung! Too much! Oh─ungh!” Incoherency leaves the moment he shoves two fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to feel the coldness of the rings that adorned his fingers as he slowly slides them further in, nearly choking you while tears cascade down your cheeks as you sob with a drool of saliva sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck─” Heeseung throws his head to the back upon the arrival of his impending orgasm, the pad of his fingers pressing down on your tongue while his vigorous rub on your clit hurls you to the edge of your orgasm, urging you to cum with him. “Yeah, baby, cum with me.” He says so huskily, while the desperate yet teetering clench of your cunt around his ruthless cock is a telltale sign of your imminent climax.

You continue to sob with his fingers that occasionally choke you with how deep it is as he continues to whisper obscenity into your ear, intensifying your heightened senses while the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable. “Fucking take it. Take all of it, my perfect little cum dump.”

At once, Heeseung goes completely still with his hips snapping against your behind as he lets out a guttural moan, filling you to the brim as he cums into you while your aching jaw unhinges with your eyes turning white as your orgasm crashes down on you violently, causing your body to convulse in his grasp. 

Usually, Heeseung would shower you with compliments of how much of a good girl you are for him, accompanied by his kisses all over your face after the fucking, but this time, his action of slipping his cock from your cunt and his fingers removing from your mouth as he steps away from you feels coldly detached.

Nevertheless, you allow yourself to fall flat onto the surface as you regulate your ragged breathing while you feel the mixture of your cum with his slowly leaking out from your gaping yet pulsating cunt. Tears continue to stain your dampened cheeks as you snivel, hating that you have upset Heeseung and broken his trust.

“I’m really sorry, Hee.” You apologise again in between hiccups, unbothered by the aches and pain in your hip bones that probably formed bruises. Upon receiving silence, you feel defeated, whimpering as more waterwork erupts despite the exertion dawning on your body.

“I didn’t mean to.” You continue, your tone is filled with regret. “I was a fool for thinking that you were him. I thought I was being a good girl by following your instructions because I thought you were him. I thought you were testing me─”

You are cut off at the moment he grabs you by the arm, prompting you to raise your body from lying flat on the table. It appears that he really did a number on you as you find your knees buckling underneath you, but he steadily holds you against him.

“Who?” Heeseung asks sternly, his cold voice deepens the hurt in your chest, as does the look in his eyes. “What secrets are you hiding from me?”

You open your mouth to speak, ready to let him know the truth, but you are cut off by the loud chime of your phone in your pocket. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone and grab it before unlocking your phone screen, only to be greeted with a notification from the one you totally expected.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Great show, sweetheart.

“Him.” You utter in a whisper as you hesitantly show Heeseung the text he sent, uncertain of his reaction as you have your gaze lowered. Great show? What did he even mean by that?

Instead of a response, Heeseung takes you by surprise when he deftly carries you in a bridal style. You cling to him with one arm around his neck while the other cradles your phone to your chest. You look at him, noticing how eerily calm and collected his demeanour is. Reaching the door, he expertly punches the code onto the smart padlock with his finger while his arm underneath the back of your knees continues to support you.

“Are you still mad at me?” You dare to ask amidst the palpable apprehension at his haunting silence. You blink away your tears as you slowly lean your head onto his shoulder. Your mere gesture stirs something in his cold, tainted heart. “I’m sorry, Hee.”

A muscle pulses in his jaw, the entirety of his raging anger that brews storms in the wreckage of his mind is not directed at you this time. “I know.”

The thought of Heeseung appearing in your mind impels you to splash the running water on your face for the third time, as evident in the splotches on your nightgown. You haven’t seen him since morning, and he wasn’t found anywhere in the palace, which only makes you feel more awful than last night. You recall not a single word spoken between the two of you as he brought you to your room, and he didn’t even inquire with you regarding the anonymous guy.

Just thinking about the anonymous guy genuinely peeved you, and yet, you hate yourself for concluding that you believed he was Heeseung. Clearly, you were gravely mistaken when that text came forth last night after the end of the whole Heeseung fucking his anger into you that knocked you out the instant you hit off to bed.

You heave a sigh as you rub your weary face. You know what? Fuck whoever he is. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you give yourself a firm head nod. The resolution in your eyes affirms that you will block and delete his contact number. You proceed to exit the bathroom, keen to return to your bed since the remnants of last night’s exertion are palpable.

Just as you step outside of the bathroom, your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sight of Heeseung seated at the edge of your bed. His outfit denotes that he must’ve been riding his motorbike. His hair looks slightly tousled, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks and adjust them, but you remain rooted to your spot, uncertain how to act next. 

When his eyes meet yours, you are taken aback by the stark contrast to how he looked at you last night. He is looking at you with an unmistakable longing, but as his eyes rake all over your body, adorned in an enticing laced nightgown that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage, the hinge of his jaw is locked while his insatiable desire for you swirls in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” The softness of your voice breaks through his impure reverie of you, prompting him to search for your eyes and notice the visible hurt in them.

Heeseung doesn’t respond to your question as he extends his hand to you, beckoning you to him. “Come here, sweetheart.” The familiar affection in his tone compels you to gravitate towards him, and upon reaching within his reach, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you towards him as you find yourself standing in between his parted legs.

Your heart flutters at the adoration gleaming in his eyes as he looks up at you. You can’t help but cradle his cheek as his eyes bore into yours, feeling as though he is staring directly into your soul. In this light, he looks pretty harmless — nothing compared to how he looks whenever he’s in the mood. “You left me alone almost the whole day.” You say, your tone conveys your dejection. 

“I’m sorry.” It is the first time he has ever apologised to you with such sincerity. Your heart soars as he leans into your touch with his hand above yours. “I won’t leave you alone again. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s okay. I’m the one in the wrong for breaking your trust─” You stop mid-sentence when your sharp eyes catch his bruised knuckles with a few yet tiny cuts that seep blood. Your eyebrows softly knit together with concern as you grab his hand. “Hee, what happened?”

Your genuine concern for him pulls at his heartstrings as he watches you fuss over his mere bruise that feels entirely numb. “I had to intervene and help Jay because a group of them were provoking him in the bar downtown, and a fight broke out. You know how he is.” The corners of his lips curve upon seeing your pouty lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We won anyway, and two of them more or less ended up in comas.”

It is as though you are accustomed to the nature of their penchant for violence, as you don’t feel disturbed by his last statement. Silence prevails as you contemplate, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip before you cave in. “Hee, I’m sure you have many questions regarding last night.”

“I do, but─”

“He called me sweetheart and pretty the way you do; that’s one of the reasons why I believed that you were him.” You cut him off in a ramble, wanting him to know the truth urgently. “He played his words in riddles, just as you do. It’s like he’s a carbon copy of you─”

You let out a small squeal when he pulls you down to him, causing you to fall seated on his lap with his arms caging your waist. “Sweetheart, the issue can wait.” His lips coming into contact with your bare chest just above your cleavage arouses the familiar heat in your core. “Besides, didn’t I say I wanted to make up to you for leaving you alone today?”

“But─” A gasp leaves your lips as he deftly has you pinned against the mattress within a matter of seconds. With your hair sprawled out gracefully in tendrils and your doe eyes staring at him with a concoction of confusion and lust, he knows he needs to show his adoration by pleasuring you.

“We can deal with that tomorrow or even the day after, but for now, let me just focus on you, sweetheart.” Heeseung whispers as he leans down, one hand beside your head to support his weight while the other seizes your chin before he presses a kiss so tender yet one full of passion, creating a sensory experience so overpowering that dispels any lingering doubts, questions, and distress as you reciprocate the kiss with equal fervour.

Your hands go winding through his disheveling hair with a movement of urgency as the kiss moltens with intensity, involving teeth and tongues clashing against each other. Feeling his teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, you moan faintly, getting utterly aroused, which has you locking your legs around his.

The make-out ends quicker than you like as he pulls away from your chasing lips, eliciting a whine from you when he moves away from you. “Seungie, please.”

“I know, pretty.” A smirk touches his lips as he stands by the bed, removing his jacket. Just like that, you are quick to remove your own pieces of clothing. You manage to admire his fine glory, shocking you again when you notice how buff his muscles are compared to the last time you saw him at Yeonjun’s pool party. In just a matter of seconds, he hovers on top of you with his lips urgently attached to yours.

“Oh, Hee..” You sigh pleasurably against his lips, feeling the pad of his thumb circling your clit skillfully as he decides to get you even more worked up. “Please fuck me.”

“Patience, baby.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, his lips ghosting over yours before trailing his kisses down your jugular. Your hips buck up at the sensation of his working thumb on your clit while his lips on your sensitive spot on your neck amplify the pleasure building up in you.

“Seungie.” You whine, getting unbearably impatient as he trails down further until he slots his lips over your perky nipple, sending you a jarring sensation at his tongue licking and teething your sensitive nipple. “Heeseung, just fuck me already.”

Heeseung releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, scoffing lowly before casting you a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight, pretty.” He looks down to grab his shaft to line up at your awaiting cunt before slowly pushing inside, your folds warmly welcoming him.

Maybe it has something to do with him being gentle, but the sensation of his cock thrusting into you slowly yet with such skillful precision that allows you to feel the drag of his cock against the wall so distinctly is phenomenal.

“Oh, Hee,” You moan out as you arch your back with your tits pushed out, which his eyes feast upon while he continues to fuck into you. Each thrust feels better than the previous, and there it is, hitting the spot that has you moving your hips in tandem with his. “Just like that, Seungie. You feel so good.”

“Yeah? I’m fucking you good, sweetheart?” His husky voice sends flutters to both your heart and cunt as it clenches around him, eliciting a low hiss from him while you moan loudly in response. Heeseung eyes down at the visible bulge appearing in your abdomen with his unrelenting thrusts. “Look at that.” He smirks, feeling his pride swell. “Sweetheart can’t handle my cock. Oh, I’m bound to ruin you, my love.”

“I can!” You insist vehemently before getting distracted by the padding of his fingers rubbing your clit, igniting your bundles of nerves. “Oh fuck! Hee! More!” You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck, his warm breaths fanning above your lips as he leans down on you with his arm bracing next to your head.

“More?” He asks mockingly, his lips adorning a smirk, before he kisses you deeply, silencing your noise momentarily.

You hum against his lips before you pull away with your head thrown to the back as you moan, feeling the pleasure building to a new height of ecstasy. “Fuck me harder, Hee.”

“Harder? Like this?” Heeseung grunts above you as he delivers a thrust so shallow that it has your walls hugging him tight and pulsating around him. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel so fucking tight.” He thrusts into you harder just as you wished, satisfied to hear your sweet yet lewd sound of pleasure that is like a melody to his ears. 

His eyes fall on your parted lips, not being able to resist the urge to kiss you again, swallowing your moans. “Gonna fuck you all night, pretty.” He says so huskily into your panting mouth with your lips parted open, to which he spits into your mouth as you gladly swallow with a moan. “Oh, you are so perfect.” He coos, kissing your cheek deeply before trailing down his kisses to your neck while your heart flutters at his word. “Every inch of you was made for me. You were always bound to be mine.”

Despite how hard and shallow he is fucking into you, each thrust he delivers is a testament to the depths of the feelings he has always harboured for you. His hips snap against yours, pressing you deeper into the sinking mattress beneath your body while you moan wantonly as he doesn’t miss the spot that eventually hurls you to the brink of your orgasm. “Hee, I-I’m─”

“Cumming, yeah?” His husky voice sends vibrations to your neck as he rasps against your skin. “Come on, pretty. Give it to me.” He whispers, his hand descending to rub your clit, amplifying your pleasure as the knot in your tummy threatens to unsnap at any time. “Wanna see you wet the bed, baby. Squirt for me.”

You can feel it in your pelvis as soon as he commands, as though he wields the power to control your body. With a moan so pornographic emitting from you, white-hot ecstasy surges through you as you throw your head to the back with your body arched, clear fluid releasing from you as your body convulses uncontrollably under him.

“Damn, baby. Look at you go.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, smirking as he looks down at your squirting mess staining the bed sheet as well as his pelvis, and yet he doesn’t relent from fucking into you even as your slick arousal has coated his cock.

“Nngh! Seungie!” You try to push him away languidly, feeling overstimulated, but he grabs both your wrists and bounds in with one hand, placing them above your head. “Too much!” You whimper, your hips trying to escape him, but he growls out a warning in response before snapping his hips against yours, going completely still as he cums into you.

“Oh, fuck. Milk my cock just like that, pretty.” He moans as he feels your walls eagerly envelope his cum-spraying cock, dropping his head to your shoulder before peppering your collarbone with kisses. His teeth sink into your skin, eliciting a whimper from you that goes straight into his cock as it twitches inside your cum-filled cunt.

“Hee, please.” Tears prickle in your eyes as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. The squelching sound from your runny cunt is disgustingly lewd, but at the same time, it arouses you as your hips betray you as they move sensually in tandem with his.

“I’m gonna be loving you all night, beautiful.” His tone is filled with such affection and sincerity that it causes your heart to swell. He presses a deep, fluttering kiss on your cheek while his thrust doesn’t let up. “Worship your body all night as I should, because you’re just so fucking perfect. So perfect, and rightfully mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.” You manage to utter before he captures your lips, sealing the entirety of your fate as he tethers you to his.

“Thank you.” You thank the cashier with a smile, forgetting that she can’t see you due to the dark tinted visor of your helmet, before you grab the plastic bag from the counter and proceed to exit the convenience store in haste, worrying that you had him waiting for longer than you intended.

You spot him, remaining stationary as he is seated on his bike with his long legs on each side planted to the ground in an attempt to provide firmer stabilisation of his motorbike. Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he turns his head towards you, though you can’t see his face clearly with his visor obscuring him. The leather jacket looks taut on him with his arms folded across his chest, and his wholly black leather fit matches yours, making you feel giddy again at the fact that you look like a biker couple, with the exception that you’re his backpack girl.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” You stand next to him, showing the plastic bag to him. The intercom built into your helmets allows you to hear each other clearly. “They didn’t have the snacks I was looking for.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Heeseung reassures you before he grabs the plastic bag from you. “Turn around.” You do as he told you, hearing him unzip the black backpack that straps around your shoulder before feeling him stuff the plastic bag into it.

“Are we going back now?” You ask as soon as you mount his bike from behind him. Your arms cling around his body when he switches on the ignition, enjoying the warmth oozing from him.

“Unless you have a place in mind to go to.” Heeseung tells you before he proceeds to ride off, eventually picking up velocity that has you hugging him tighter as you ride against the strong, vindictive wind.

As it’s been more than an hour since he has brought you out for a nightly ride, you decide that it’s time for you to head back. Plus, the exertion that dawned on your body due to how he worshipped you and kept you up all night has yet to dwindle. It is a miracle how you can walk without having to struggle, unlike when you woke up earlier.

“No.” You rest your under-chin on his shoulder while your mere gesture fills his chest with delight. “Let’s go back.”

It takes approximately thirty minutes for you to finally reach their territory, with the opulent gate welcoming you as he proceeds to ride his way to the garage. 

All the while, you are lost in your thoughts that aren’t harbouring such distressing matters ever since you have decided to block and delete the unknown number, but not before giving Heeseung your phone to read the entire conversation from scratch. 

You recall how deceptively calm Heeseung looked when he noted down the contact number, most probably to track the anonymous down since he did tell you that he’d be entrusting the task to Jake, who has expertise in tracking and hacking anything or anyone.

Now, you feel as though the weight on your shoulders has been lifted off, bringing you a sense of tranquillity. You no longer needed to feel the annoying anxiety plummeting into your chest every time you received a notification from the anonymous guy. You feel better now that you know Heeseung was never him. In all honesty, you can’t wait for Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to come back tomorrow, wanting to spend more time with all of them.

“Sweetheart?” Heeseung pulls you out of your reverie as he approaches you from behind, noticing that you have been staring at the massive grandeur of the water fountain from afar, which is situated in the centre of the encompassing entirety of the palace. “What’s wrong?”

Well, now that you have gained awareness that you have actually been zoning out, an idea pops into your mind, prompting you to look at him with a sheepish grin. “Can we play at that fountain?”

Of course, Heeseung will always give you what you want or need, and so with a soft smirk unfurling his lips, you grab his hand before proceeding to drag him with you, the enthusiasm oozing from you as you lightly skip in your steps while Heeseung only watches you with adoring eyes that soften his features, even as you splash the water at him, drenching his clothes.

 “Sweetheart.” He growls out in a playful manner, and the mischief in his predatory gaze sends an adrenaline rush through you. “You’re so gonna get it.”

You squeal just as he charges towards you, prompting you to run away from him despite the fact that the pool of water below you impedes your speed. Your heart nearly lurches in your chest as soon as he captures you from behind, his arms caging your waist as he lifts you up and spins you around with delightful giggles emitting from you.

Setting you down to your feet as the water splashes beneath you, soaking your pants, you turn around with the intention to push him playfully, but he latches his hand onto your waist to pull you closer while the other cradles the back of your head before he smashes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp softly into the kiss.

A symphony of yearning and desire is palpable as he deepens the kiss that deepens the electrifying connection between you and him, while the world fades into insignificance as you get utterly lost in the depths of your passionate kissing.

Just you and him, lips attached, souls intertwined under the moonlight with glinting stars across the divine celestial witnessing this tender intimacy.

The once-liveliness that brought home-filling warmth to the expanse of your shared dormitory with the girls who used to be your best friends has shifted dramatically and is now foreignly cold, with a discernible hostility emanating from the four of you. Distracting yourself from the agonising silence, your eyes flicker down at your forefinger that is now bare of your purity ring, which has long since been in Heeseung’s possession.

Honestly, you should’ve ignored Yunjin’s call that shatters the tranquilly of you being cocooned in Heeseung’s warm embrace with arms around your body as he had you settled on top of him earlier, but something nudged you into accepting her call only to receive a request from her for you to head over to your dorm. Of course, you were about to refuse, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone. Thus, you are now in a position where you are uncertain whether the three of them across from you really do hate you, because if they did, they wouldn’t have looked as worried for you as they do now.

“Whatever it is that you need to tell me, can you hurry up?” You don’t mean to sound impatiently abrasive, but your resentment for their hypocrisy remains a bitter taste on your tongue. “What is so important that you could’ve told me over text?”

“Because what we’re about to tell you is something that we should’ve revealed to you sooner.” Wonyoung’s tone is devoid of the usual warmth; her eyes are unwaveringly searching for yours. “We don’t want to argue with you again, Y/N. So please keep an open mind.”

You unclench your locked jaw, heaving a sigh as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to argue with you girls either. I’m tired. But if this is about you telling me to sever ties with them, then I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave, not until you finally know about it.” Karina states vehemently, prompting you to look at her. The grim expression on her face mirrors the others’.

You frown. “Know about what?”

“About the girl who got herself caught up in a situation just as you are now three years ago.” Yunjin says quietly as she leans her back against the wall with her hands tucked in her pockets. “They preyed on her the way they did you.”

You can feel something painful pulling your heartstrings, but you remain silent as Yunjin continues, “But their preying on her lasted for a short period of time. Just like you, she was ensnared by their dark allure, and by the time she tried to escape, it was too late.”

“I’m sure you saw her, or at least have heard about her before.” Karina quips. “She used to be in Julie’s clique.” You remember Julie. She was one of the university's former queen bees, along with the others, before they transferred to another university for some reason.

“And the girl that we’re talking about? She was my best friend since high school until we drifted.” Wonyoung adorns a bitter smile while her eyes glisten with nostalgia as she looks at you. “Her name was Jinae.”

The name rings a bell to you, but you are not entirely certain. In all honesty, your freshman year was only filled with pure academics; you were always eager to head back to your dorm after classes ended just to hole up in your room and be surrounded by books. Rarely, or perhaps not once, were you tempted to get involved in gossip or anything that wasn't beneficial to you.

You release a sigh as you unfold your arms. “So what? If this is you trying to make me jealous because they shared a girl in the past, just stop. You can’t do anything to change my feelings for them.”

“This isn’t about a matter of jealousy.” Wonyoung shoots you a scowl. “This is about the grave danger you might be in, all because you blindly fell for their trap and even caught feelings for them.”

You try your utmost to quell your anger while maintaining a composed posture. “Pray tell, what danger awaits me? I’m still alive, aren’t I?” The mockery in your tone seems to tick them off as you continue. “And why the hell should I know about this Jinae girl?”

“Because we don’t want you to end up like her.” Karina says so somberly. 

“End up like her? What do you mean?” You ask adamantly, wanting them to get straight to the point. “Did she transfer to another university or drop out?”

“Worse.” Wonyoung looks down at her hands on her lap. “She’s dead.”

“It’s the exact reason why we’ve been trying so hard to tell you to stay away from them before you get caught deep in their trap.” Yunjin adds.

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before the anger comes as you clench your fist. “So what are you implying?”

“Can’t you see, Y/N? She’s dead because of them!” Wonyoung exclaims, startling you with her outburst. Her eyes are glistening with tears, as though the pain of the loss of her ex-best friend is still fresh. “They killed her!”

“You’re kidding.” You release a sardonic chuckle, shaking your head while your heart begins to pound harder against your chest. “What the fuck, Wonyoung? You’re trying to scare me again by making up a story?”

“She’s not lying, Y/N.” Karina retorts sternly, eliciting a scoff from you. “Jinae’s dead because of them.”

“Oh, spare me your hypocrisy.” You snarl coldly at her as you find yourself rising from the seat. “You were the one who encouraged me to get closer to Sunghoon to make Jaeyun jealous in the first place! And now you’re trying to act like you’re principled enough to condemn me just as the rest, including my parents, did simply because I’m in love with them?”

“You’re in love with them?” Yunjin echoes your words, which finally register in your brain, causing you to falter momentarily, but you decide to brush the matter aside, not wanting to dwell on it any longer and analyse your feelings deeply.

You shake your head, feeling your hand tremble. “I’m not listening to what you have to say next. They may be capable of killing, but they wouldn’t kill someone, let alone a girl, without a reason.”

“So what you’re trying to say is that for as long as there is a reason, it is justifiable for them to kill anyone?” Karina gives you a disbelieving glare. “You’re so brain-fucked over your feelings for them, Y/N.”

“At least I’m happier now.” You snap back. “I’m leaving, and continue to ignore my existence the way you did before, because you were doing a great job at it!”

“Y/N! Please!” Wonyoung takes you by surprise with her urgency and desperation as she catches up to you just as you reach the door. Her hand latches onto your arm. When you turn around with the intention of lashing out at her, you flinch at the tears filling her eyes. “You’re right. I can’t do anything to change your feelings for them, but I don’t want to lose you either.”

A part of you softens up, nudging you to hug her, but the recollection of her words and her cold detachment surfacing in your mind impels you to yank your arm from her. Refraining from uttering another word at her or any of them, you swing the door open and storm off.

Reaching the elevator, you press the button harder than you intended to, and the tension manifests itself in the rising and falling of your chest as you breathe harshly. You refuse to believe their words, and you feel irate at the fact that they truly believed the four leaders, who are evidently head over heels for you, would do anything to jeopardise your life.

As you enter the elevator and press the first level, a disconcerting reality dawns on you, knowing how lethal they are beneath their distinct charms and profound dark allures that serenaded you in the first place. Your head begins to throb as your mind is battling a tempestuous of internal conflict and questions, each vying for their voice to be clamoured in the confines of your mind.

Sighing, you step out of the elevator, noticing not a single student in sight, which is odd, but nevertheless, you navigate your way to the exit. Just as you turn to the right corner, the entirety of the first floor blackens as the lights go out.

A frown pulls at your lips. Strange since the last time this happened was two years ago, resulting in you and your best friends huddling in one room and sleeping on the same bed since they, too, were afraid of the dark.

Your phone rings in your pocket, prompting you to fish it out and see Yunjin’s caller ID. You reluctantly answer her call. “Y/N? Are you still in the building?”

“Yeah, I know. The lights went out, but I’m already making my way to the exit.” You tell her curtly while you feel something feels off, as there is an eerie chill emanating in the dark atmosphere, spurring you to pick up the pace as your pulse drums in your ear. “Hey, Yunjin? I know we're not fine, but can you stay on the line with me for a bit?”

“What’s wrong?” Yunjin sounds worried by the alarming tone evident in your voice.

“Everything’s fine.” You assure her, and in the midst of it, you fail to realise the looming threat approaching you as you are in deep contemplation, your lips tucked between your teeth. “Yunjin, I─”

It happens too fast. One moment you’re walking in haste, and the next something so solid hits you from the back, resulting in you losing your balance before you find yourself falling to the ground as your skulls throb painfully. 

A wince leaves your lips as you clutch your head before goosebumps eerily arise on your skin. That is when you feel an ominous presence looming over your figure from behind, propelling you to scramble away from whoever they are. Their identity is wholly obscure with the all-black fit that seems to camouflage with the darkness, but the sound of their heavy-booted footsteps is unmistakable.

“Y/N?” You forget that Yunjin is still on the line, and frantically, you press the phone against your ear with your trembling hand as you try your utmost to fight against the pain.

“Yunjin!” Just as you call out for her, you receive another hit from the side of your head, causing your body to fall flat to the ground from the impact, rendering you paralysed with the heavy weight of your eyelids fighting valiantly to stay open.

The last thing you remember is your phone being snatched away from your hand and a piercing stab of a long needle into the side of your neck before darkness shrouds you wholly.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz @kaykay11sworld @firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @superbbananananana @eastleighsblog @in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk @yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[lulu-4-u]

TOUCH IT

ship: gojo x fem!empath!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering); overstimulation word count: 7.0k (omg, i forgot to post this; it was originally supposed to be 2-parts but i just let it all stay together 🥹long fic again, i promise kast time jajaja... )

The strongest sorcerer to ever live, in all the heavens and the earth, feared by cursed spirits alike, was… bored.

Lounging in his seat, Gojo Satoru let out a low hum, his head tipped back lazily as the council droned on and on about his newest mission.

The weight of the room was thick with tension, but none of it seemed to touch him. His fingers tapped a careless rhythm on the armrest, legs spread out in front of him, exuding a carelessness that bordered on irreverence.

"…growing threat…potentially catastrophic…dangerous sorcerer…" The words buzzed around his head like an annoying fly he had no intention of swatting away.

He exhaled through his nose, continuing his little hum as the head councilman's voice grew more insistent. The man's brows were knitted together, speaking with all the gravity that someone in his position ought to muster.

But it was all white noise to Satoru—at least, until—

"Gojo."

A beat.

"Gojo, this is serious. Pay attention..." The councilman's voice sliced through the monotony, sharp enough to make him lazily shift his head to the side.

Slowly, Satoru turned his head, letting his neck roll as he turned his attention to the source of the command. His eyes, usually hidden behind his shades, seemed to sharpen with the motion, focusing like a hawk about to strike.

Even through the dark lenses, the icy intensity of his gaze bore down on the man. His smile stayed in place—easy, almost playful—but his stare was dead.

Empty.

It was a predator's look, concealed beneath the mask of casual indifference.

A tremor rippled through the room. The councilmen around him shifted in their seats, unease crawling up their spines as they suddenly remembered exactly who they were addressing.

The strongest. The untouchable. The one who smiled but never truly revealed his hand.

"So..." Satoru's voice was deceptively light, a mocking tilt to his words as he spoke. "You want me to take out this 'big bad' or whatever, yeah? Because they're, like, super dangerous and might cause some, I dunno, world-ending chaos?" He let the sentence drag, his smile never faltering, but his eyes remained locked on the councilman like a wolf sizing up its prey. "That about sum it up?"

The councilman, clearly rattled, swallowed hard. His voice faltered as he stammered out a weak, "Y-yes, correct."

Satoru sighed, long and exaggerated, before standing up in one smooth motion. His towering frame unfolded effortlessly, drawing every eye in the room.

Stretching his arms above his head, he dragged a hand through his snowy hair, letting out a groan as though this entire affair was just a mild inconvenience to him. "Alright, alright," he drawled, adjusting his shades as he flashed them another easy grin. "Let's just get this over with."

You were carefully decorating the last of the cupcakes, smoothing the frosting into perfect swirls, when the familiar ding of the bakery bell rang through the back. "Just a minute!" you called out, wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist.

It was just you on the morning shift today—your coworker had called out last minute, promising to take your afternoon shift so you wouldn't have to pull a double.

Not something you were unfamiliar with, but still, it left you scrambling to deal with the shop alone.

Your fingers were still a little sticky with frosting, and you knew there were probably a few smudges on your face, but you couldn’t keep a customer waiting.

Quickly, you smoothed your apron down, pushing through the swinging door that led to the front of the shop.

As you stepped behind the counter, the first thing you noticed was a figure crouched down, examining the glass display case where rows of colorful cupcakes, cakes, and pastries were lined up neatly.

From your angle, you could only see their side profile—a tall, lean figure, slightly hunched as they squatted low, eyes fixed on the sugary treats.

You scurried behind the register, hastily plastering on your customer service smile. "Hi! How can I help you—?" Your sentence trailed off, the words drying up in your throat as the figure slowly rose to full height, straightening out.

Your hand froze mid-motion as you adjusted your glasses, your face warming with an instant, involuntary blush. Standing before you was quite possibly the most striking person you'd ever seen.

His hair was the first thing to catch your eye—white as freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast against the black suit that clung to his lithe, muscled frame. He wore it effortlessly: black business pants, a sleek turtleneck, and a long jacket draped over his shoulders in a way that screamed confidence.

But it was his eyes that left you breathless. The brightest, most piercing shade of blue you had ever seen, framed by delicate, pale lashes.

They gleamed behind a pair of circular glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose, as if he’d forgotten they were even there. His head tilted slightly, curiously, like he was taking you in just as you were gawking at him.

There was something both playful and intimidating in the way he smiled—a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but made your heart race all the same.

Your breath caught, and you fumbled with the edge of your apron, trying desperately to calm the heat that was crawling up your neck. You quickly shook yourself out of your stupor, blinking rapidly as if to reset your brain. "Y-yes! W-we have plenty to choose from," you stammered, forcing your voice to steady itself.

Your heart raced, the thumping in your chest almost deafening as your eyes darted anywhere but at him, unable to hold his gaze for too long without feeling your cheeks heat up all over again. "Is there... um, anything in particular you're looking for?"

The man didn’t respond right away, and you half wondered if he hadn’t noticed your nervousness—or maybe he was just too polite to say anything about it. But the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

He hummed thoughtfully, the sound deep and drawn out, leaning casually against the glass display case. His hand came up to prop his head up as he tilted it slightly, his lips forming a small pout. "Hmm... I'm not sure. I'm looking for something... sweet." His voice dipped on the last word, and there was no mistaking the suggestion behind it, as if he wasn't just talking about pastries.

Your breath hitched, and you could feel the flush of embarrassment crawl up your neck again. You scrambled to maintain your composure, glancing down at the cupcakes and cookies like they held the answers to his cryptic request.

From his Satoru's perspective, you barely reached his chest. He couldn't help but notice how tiny you looked in comparison, especially with your hair tied up into a neat, tight bun, a silk scarf wrapped around your head as if to keep stray strands in check.

You wore a baking apron that was thoroughly covered in flour, smudges of icing trailing from your hands to your face, and a couple of spots dabbed on your cheeks.

The glasses perched on your nose kept slipping down, and you pushed them up in a quick, nervous motion every time they fell.

Your wide, inquisitive eyes blinked up at him, and he noted the light freckles dusted across the bridge of your nose.

Cute.

Everything about you—from the shy glances to the nervous fidgeting—made him want to toy with you, just a little.

"Well, if you're looking for sweet, we have a variety of cupcakes that are really popular," you offered, your voice wavering slightly as you gestured towards the rows of neatly frosted confections. "Or, um, cookies... cakes..." Your words trailed off as his gaze lingered on you, and it felt as though the temperature in the room had gone up a few degrees.

He didn't seem particularly interested in the pastries, though. His eyes remained on you, as if you were far more interesting than anything in the display case.

"Hmm, that's tempting," he murmured, his smirk growing just a little wider. His eyes flickered to the cupcakes, but only for a brief moment before they returned to you. "But I think I'm in the mood for something... softer."

Your heart did a somersault at the way he emphasized the last word words, and you couldn't help but wonder just what exactly this man was getting at.

"O-oh, softer?" You fumbled, trying desperately to keep your brain from melting. You forced yourself to focus, tapping your fingers nervously against the counter. "W-we have some cream-filled pastries, if that's more to your taste?" you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Whatever it was, you weren't sure how much longer you could handle it without combusting on the spot.

"Maybe..." He dragged the word out, enjoying the way you squirmed under his attention. "But what would you recommend?" His voice dipped again, lower, almost teasing, like he wasn't just asking about pastries anymore.

"I-I'll just choose something!" you stammered, turning quickly before you could embarrass yourself further.

Your pulse raced as you headed to the back, reaching for the dessert you had made earlier—a strawberry cheesecake, heavily decorated and sweet. It was indulgent, something you'd crafted for yourself during a quiet moment, filled with all the sugary indulgence you allowed yourself on rare occasions.

You pulled out a small slice, plating it carefully, your fingers trembling slightly as you arranged it perfectly. When you returned to the counter, you placed a small sample in front of him, offering it with shaky hands. "Here, try this," you said, your voice softer than you’d intended.

He didn't need any further prompting. With a smooth, almost languid motion, he picked up the small fork you offered and took a bite.

You watched as the dessert disappeared into his mouth, his lips curling upward in a satisfied hum. The moment his eyes brightened, a wave of pride hit you. A low, pleased hum escaped him, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

He savored it, his gaze flickering back to you with delighted approval, as though the simple dessert had been crafted by the hands of gods.

"This is fantastic," he murmured, the praise making your chest tighten. "Where do you get this from? Who made it?"

You glanced away, feeling your face flush under his stare. "I, um... I made it."

"You did?"

With a small nod, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Y-yes, I made it this morning."

His lips twitched into an amused grin, but this time, his eyes didn’t stay on your face. "Well, that explains why it's so perfect..." His gaze, deliberate and slow, trailed downwards, lingering for a long moment on your chest. It wasn't subtle—he wanted you to notice. You felt the heat creeping up your neck as his eyes lingered on your name tag.

"...Y/N," he read aloud, his voice low and teasing, drawing out each letter. He let the name hang in the air for a moment, before lifting his gaze back to your flushed face.

The intensity of his gaze, combined with the deliberate way he said your name, sent a jolt of awareness through you. You tried to keep your composure, your hands trembled slightly as you packed up the rest of the cheesecake, placing the box on the counter.

"Here you are, Mr...." You trailed off, realizing you didn’t know his name. Your eyes flickered up to meet his again, a silent question hanging in the air.

He caught your hesitation, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Satoru," he said smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue like a secret only he was sharing with you.

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly as you cleared your throat. "R-right. Mr. Satoru." You glanced at the register, trying to refocus as you gave him the total softly.

He blinked in mild surprise, his smirk widening. "That's practically half off from the price on the card," he remarked, amusement evident in his voice.

You could feel your face grow impossibly warmer. "O-oh, um..." Your lips fell into a small pout as you avoided his gaze, your hand twitching up to adjust your glasses again in a nervous habit. "I-it's no big deal. I mean, I like to, uh, give stuff to new customers... in hopes that they return, yeah..."

Your voice trailed off, and you immediately wanted to kick yourself for the weak excuse. But it was too late now. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Satoru's chuckle made your heart skip a beat. Even his laughter sounded handsome, deep and melodic, sending your pulse racing. "Is that so?" he mused, his voice holding a playful edge. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cheesecake, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Well, I'll definitely be back... Y/N."

He winked, and you nearly melted on the spot as he turned toward the door. With a casual wave, he added, "See you soon, Sweets," leaving you standing there, flustered and wide-eyed, barely able to process what had just happened.

The bell above the door rang as he left, and only then did you release the breath you had been holding. You stood there, staring after him, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Sweets?

A few hours later, the warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the bakery’s front windows, casting long shadows across the floor as you wiped down the counters.

It had been a relatively quiet shift after he left, though your heart was still recovering from the encounter. As you finished up, the front door swung open with a familiar jingle, and you turned to see your coworker rushing in.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry I'm late!" The boy practically stumbled through the door, one hand frantically adjusting the tie of his high school uniform, the other pushing his hair back in a desperate attempt to look more presentable. "I got caught up in something!"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flustered state. Itadori Yuji, always full of energy and apologies, was like a golden retriever in human form—warm, friendly, and almost comically eager to please. His messy pink hair and wide, bright eyes gave him an air of youthful enthusiasm, and his genuine smile could light up a room.

"It's fine, Yuji," you said with a laugh, waving him off as you headed to the back to grab your things. "You're not that late."

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally finished fixing his uniform. "Still, I hate being late. Promise it won't happen again, if it does, I owe you lunch!"

"Deal," you replied, opening your locker and pulling out your bag. As you walked back toward him, you noticed his name tag was crooked, dangling off one pin. With a quick flick of your hand, you reached out to fix it, adjusting it until it sat neatly on his chest.

"There," you said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Much better." His warm grin mirrored your own as he stood there, slightly flustered but grateful. "Have a good shift, Yuji. Oh, and the manager should be stopping by later to check in on you."

"Thanks!" he said, already grabbing an apron and getting ready to dive into work. "I’ll handle it. You get out of here and enjoy your break!"

You gave him a small wave and turned to leave, but just as you reached the door, you heard him call out behind you. "Y/N!" Yuji's voice was filled with enthusiasm, and you turned to see him waving both hands energetically, grinning from ear to ear. "Goodbye! See you tomorrow!"

You waved back, shaking your head with a fond smile as you stepped outside, the cool afternoon air brushing against your skin.

You allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm of your steps as you strolled home, your mind wandering as you took in the sights and sounds around you—the rustling of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and the occasional chatter of people passing by.

It was a rare moment of peace after the hectic shift, a brief escape from the buzz of daily life.

As you rounded the corner, something unexpected caught your eye—a small form, huddled on the edge of the sidewalk.

Your pace slowed as you approached, your brow furrowing in concern.

It was a cat, lying awkwardly on its side, its fur matted and dirty. A quick glance told you it had been hit by something, maybe a car or someone careless.

Normally, you would have continued walking, not wanting to get too involved. But just beyond the cat, two tiny kittens sat mewling helplessly, their cries piercing the quiet air.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

With a soft sigh, you crouched down, inching closer to the injured cat. It hissed at you, its eyes wild with pain and fear, its body tense as it tried to protect its young. But you ignored the warning sounds, reaching out slowly, gently, until your fingers brushed under its chin.

"Hey, it’s okay," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing.

At your touch, the cat stiffened for a moment before going completely lax, its body relaxing against the ground. You stroked it tenderly, watching in quiet as the distended paw began to shift, the bones cracking softly back into place.

You could almost feel the snap of pain yourself, a sharp ache spreading through your own wrist as the cat's injury healed before your eyes.

After a few seconds, the paw was as good as new. The cat stood, shaking itself off, and without a second glance at you, it gathered its kittens and disappeared into the safety of the alleyway.

You remained crouched there for a moment, watching the small family as they vanished from sight, the ache in your wrist growing stronger.

Slowly, you straightened up, flexing your fingers as the pain began to dull. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

Feelings.

That's all you'd ever known. Whether you wanted to or not.

All your life, you'd felt things—things you shouldn't be able to feel.

Anger from your neighbors down the hall as they argued about their personal issues, envy from classmates who resented your successes, and worst of all, the fear radiating from your parents as they stood helpless, unable to comfort you through your relentless sobs.

You could feel their confusion, their frustration.

But at the end of it all, they couldn't fix something they couldn't see.

Over time, it grew—your ability to feel. At first, it was just emotions. You could sense a slight shift in someone’s mood, a flicker of sadness or anger, just an inkling of what they were going through. But soon, it became more than that.

You began to feel their thoughts, whispers that echoed faintly in your mind, giving you glimpses of what lay beneath their surface emotions.

And then... it escalated. Suddenly, you could feel everything.

Whatever someone was going through—physically or emotionally—washed over you like a wave. Their pain became your pain. Their joy became your joy. It all found its way to you. No matter how far you distanced yourself, it clung to you like a shadow.

It was overwhelming, relentless, like you were drowning in the feelings of others with no way to claw your way to the surface.

As the years went by, your condition worsened. What started as a manageable, if confusing, ability turned into a burden too heavy to bear.

The world became unbearable. Every day was agony, the constant onslaught of emotions and sensations from those around you leaving you raw, exhausted, and desperate for relief.

The cacophony of the city—the anger, the fear, the pain—was like a living entity, clawing at your skin, leaving you shaking and fragile.

Your parents were at a loss. They didn't understand what was happening to you, couldn't see the invisible weight pressing down on your soul. They could only watch as you withdrew further, your silence growing more suffocating by the day.

When your father finally made a call to a buddy—a man who had a cousin that owned a small apartment complex on the edge of the city—it was an act of desperation. They didn't know what else to do.

So, at fifteen, they sent you away. The cousin gave your parents a deal, allowing them to pay for three years of rent upfront for the ‘penthouse’—a small, one-bedroom apartment that was anything but luxurious. It was decrepit, cheap, and hidden away in an area most people avoided. The walls were stained with years of neglect, the air thick with the smell of dust and mold.

But it was quiet. Isolated.

And for the first time, you were alone with your thoughts.

Alone with the pain.

But that wasn't the only thing you had to deal with. Upon leaving home, you unknowingly stepped into a new world—a world of curses and sorcerers.

It happened by accident, of course. During one of your bad days, when the weight of others' emotions became too much to bear, you found yourself overwhelmed, losing control, but this time was different.

This time, it happened in public.

You don't remember exactly how you ended up on that street, or why you couldn’t move your legs when you wanted to run. All you knew was that your chest was heaving, your heart pounding, and everything was too loud, too bright.

The emotions pouring out of you were anything but silent. They radiated outward like a tidal wave, flooding the space around you. People nearby started to feel it—your pain, your panic. The air grew heavy with the thick, chaotic energy you couldn't control.

You didn't know it at the time, but there had been sorcerers nearby. They had been in the middle of an exorcism, dealing with a high-grade curse just down the block. But your outburst—your instability—had thrown everything into disarray.

By the time you calmed down, the sorcerers had won their battle, but the damage was done.

You were on their radar.

At first, the solitude was a relief. The absence of people meant an absence of feelings—no more sadness seeping through the walls, no more anger gracing your vision from out of nowhere, no more envy creeping in with every inhale of breath, rattling you to the bone. But as the years passed, the silence became suffocating in a different way.

You found yourself missing the world outside, the life you had once known slipping further and further away. And yet... somehow, you survived.

As the years passed, you learned to cope with your abilities. Instead of rejecting the constant barrage of feelings, you began to embrace them, to accept the pain and emotion as part of you.

It was hard, terrifying even, at first.

There were times when the spasms would hit, your body wracked with the pain of others, and you'd think you were slipping back into the endless agony of your youth. But you learned to shake it off, to focus, and slowly, everything would melt into the background.

Now, at twenty-three, you've managed to regain some semblance of normalcy. You work part-time at a small bakery just a block away from the apartment, a quiet job that doesn't demand too much interaction with people.

And as you've grown more confident in yourself, so too have your powers.

Now, not only can you feel and change others' emotions, but you've learned to take away their pain as well—absorbing it into yourself, inadvertently healing them.

You glanced down at your wrist, the ache in your wrist from earlier was a reminder of that, the subtle way your body absorbs and dissipates pain.

You didn't know when it started exactly, but the more you leaned into your ability, the more you realized how much power you had over others' emotions—and their suffering.

Arriving home, you expected to be a typical Friday night of you sitting comfortably on your worn-out couch, book in hand, ready to lose yourself in another evening of quiet solitude.

But the buzz of your phone said otherwise.

Your best friend, Sumi, didn't give you a second before launching into an excited explanation about some classmates going out to celebrate the end of exam season and begged you to join them. She pointed out how you never went out anymore, and that you'd been practically living as a hermit

You tried to resist, your first instinct to decline and stick to your quiet night in, but Sumi;s persistence wore you down. She had a way of making even the simplest invitation sound like a grand adventure, and after a bit of internal back-and-forth, you finally relented.

After ending the call, you stood up, looking around your small apartment. It had been a while since you'd gone out, and a part of you felt nervous, but another part—one you hadn't acknowledged in some time—was starting to feel a flicker of anticipation.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to step outside your comfort zone for once.

The music was loud, vibrating through the floor and up into your bones as you sat squeezed into a booth, surrounded by people on all sides.

You hadn't expected the party to be this big—Sumi had said it would be a small celebration, but it turned out to be anything but. The entire club was packed, and the crowd seemed to pulse with energy, the lights flashing erratically in rhythm with the heavy bass.

It was... overwhelming, to say the least, and you'd already considered slipping out the back more than once.

But every time you thought about leaving, someone—whether it was Sumi or one of her classmates—would pull you back into the booth, keeping you tethered to the chaos.

After a while, you accepted your fate, sighing softly as you forced yourself to take a sip of the drink in your hand. The alcohol was meant to distract you, to keep your mind from spiraling into overstimulation.

The lights, the smells, the music, the press of bodies around you—it was all too much. But if you focused on the cool burn of the drink sliding down your throat, maybe you could hold yourself together a little longer.

A few drinks later, your muscles loosened, and the tightness in your chest began to melt away. The alcohol took the edge off, softening the sharpness of your senses, and you finally started to feel relaxed.

When Sumi eagerly dragged you onto the dance floor, you didn't resist, allowing yourself to get swept up in the moment.

The music pounded through the air, and soon you were caught in the rhythm. You let yourself get lost in it, swaying with the crowd, Sumi's infectious energy keeping you in the moment.

"You're finally having fun, aren't you?" Sumi laughed, spinning around you, her blonde hair whipping in the flashing lights.

You smiled faintly, your body relaxing into the music. "Yeah, it's... not so bad."

But as the alcohol worked through your system, the familiar buzz started beneath your skin. The sensations around you grew sharper—eagerness, excitement, arousal.

You could feel it all.

As you danced, it became harder to focus, every emotion from the people packed around you began to seep into your mind, their energy flooding your senses.

It was too much, and yet you couldn't seem to pull yourself out of it.

You wanted to scream, to escape, but the crowd held you tight, the sensations enveloping you like a suffocating blanket.

The music blurred with the flashes of emotion that weren't your own. It was like you were taking in everyone's feelings, all at once. A wave of drunken joy hit you, followed by a sharp stab of lust from a couple nearby.

And then, you felt two hands grip your waist from behind, steady and firm, tethering you to the moment.

A more coherent version of yourself might have jumped away from the unknown touch, startled by the sudden intrusion. But instead, you found yourself leaning into it, falling backward into whoever dared wrap you in their embrace.

The sensation of strong arms circling your waist held you in place, and the firmness of the chest against your back was like a solid wall anchoring you amidst the chaos.

You blinked slowly, your mind swimming as you squinted your eyes open. The faint tickle of soft hair brushed against your neck, and you could tell the person behind you was tall—taller than you by far. They had to slouch and bend over slightly to reach your ear.

It was only when you caught a glimpse of white, snowy hair out of the corner of your eye that you froze. A familiar shiver ran down your spine, and the sharp sensation of lust and arousal hit you like a wave, pouring off the figure behind you in an overwhelming rush.

It was intoxicating, and for the first time tonight, you felt your own emotions cut through the fog of everyone else's. Your heart raced, and the heat rising in your cheeks wasn't from the alcohol anymore.

You didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. But any doubt you had vanished when a smooth voice purred into your ear, "Hello, Sweets~"

The words sent a shiver through you, and before you could fully process the situation, you were whisked off the dance floor. One second you were drowning in the crowd, and the next, you were being led—no, practically carried—through the bustling club.

Satoru, with an ease that belied the chaos around him, guided you up the steps to the VIP section, his hand never leaving your waist.

In what felt like no time at all, you were settled in a more secluded booth at the top balcony, away from prying eyes. The noise of the club felt distant here, muted by the heavy drapes surrounding the area.

Satoru moved with purpose, easily sliding into the booth beside you, his presence commanding and all-encompassing.

You glanced at him, your breath catching in your throat as his bright blue eyes locked onto yours. There was a teasing glint in them as he took in your flushed face, a smirk curling at his lips.

Without warning, he cupped your cheek, his large hand warm against your skin, and pinched your face lightly.

"You're a lightweight, huh?" he teased, his tone light but dripping with amusement.

You swatted his hand away with a roll of your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "'m not drunk. 'm tipsy," you muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of control, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Satoru chuckled, leaning in closer. His arm draped casually over the back of the booth, but the movement subtly caged you in, his broad back shielding you from view. He didn't seem concerned with the world beyond your little corner, his attention entirely on you.

"Tipsy, huh?" he drawled, his voice lowering as he leaned even closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You're definitely something."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as his finger gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You're a pretty girl, you know that?" His words were soft but carried a weight that made your heart race.

Your mouth went dry as his finger trailed along the edge of your chin before brushing the underside of your lip. The touch was light, teasing, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. His eyes darkened slightly, the pupils dilating as his gaze lingered on your lips, a light flush dusting his own cheeks.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his thumb stroked your bottom lip. "The way you look at me... I wonder how much better it would feel to have you under me."

The suggestiveness of his words hit you like a punch, your entire body flushing with heat.

You could feel the intensity of his desire, the raw lust pouring off him in waves, and for once, you weren't overwhelmed by it. Instead, it mixed with your own growing attraction, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

Your breath hitched, and though you were flustered, you couldn't deny the pull between you.

Every part of you screamed to push back, to regain control, but the way Satoru's fingers lingered on your skin, the way his eyes drank you in like you were the only person in the world, made it hard to focus on anything but him.

Your mouth moved before your brain could catch up. "I do too..." The words were barely a whisper, slipping out between the pounding of your heart and the electric charge that hummed between you.

That was all it took.

In an instant, Satoru closed the space between you, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You could feel the desperation in the way he kissed you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, exploring, tasting. He licked into you with fervor, groaning low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest.

It was as if he couldn't get enough, like he was drinking in every little sound you made, savoring it.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were on you—gripping your waist, pulling you closer, and leaving no space between your bodies.

The plush cushions of the sofa gave way beneath you as you felt your back press into them, Satoru already pushing you down. His body hovered over yours, his weight pinning you in place as his hands roamed freely, one sliding up your side, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt.

Every touch sent sparks through your veins, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his palm finally slid under your skirt, pressing against the warmth of your skin.

His hand moved higher, fingers brushing over your upper thigh as his other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place beneath him. You squirmed under his touch, your body responding to every movement as if on instinct.

The sensation of his fingers ghosting over your skin was enough to drive you crazy, and you arched into his touch, your own hands finding purchase on his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if to anchor yourself to the moment.

Satoru groaned again, this time louder, the sound muffled by the kiss. His body pressed closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the solid strength of his chest against yours.

It was dizzying—the way he seemed to consume you with every touch, every kiss, as if he was starved for you. His lips left yours for only a second, moving to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"Satoru..." you breathed, barely able to think as his lips found yours again. His hand gripped your thigh, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deeper, more possessively, like he never wanted to let you go.

Before you could catch your breath, Satoru moved again, flipping you both upright with ease. He pulled you on top of his lap, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he settled you onto him.

You both sat there, panting from the intensity of the makeout session, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you stared down at him.

His eyes were dark, hooded with desire, the usual playfulness in his expression replaced by something more intense. His face was flushed, and a light sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. His hands, strong and confident, kneaded your exposed thighs, your skirt having ridden up from all the movement.

The warmth of his touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but feel your mind race as you took in his features—the sharpness of his jaw, the way his pale lashes framed those piercing blue eyes, his lips swollen from kissing.

Satoru licked his lips slowly, and you could feel the heat between you grow as he scooted you even closer on his lap. A shiver ran through you when you felt him hard beneath you, the sensation making your body tingle. He tilted his head to the side, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched you.

"Hey, Sweets," he purred, his voice low and teasing. "Wanna feel how bad I wanna fuck you?"

If you weren't already lost in the feeling of him against you, you might've recoiled in embarrassment at his bluntness. But instead, your body reacted instinctively, pressing down onto him, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you.

The low groan that escaped his lips, paired with the small jump of his hips in response, had your heart racing even faster.

It was your turn to lick your lips, and you noticed the way Satoru's eyes snapped down to watch, darkening even further as his gaze locked onto your mouth.

You leaned in slightly, your lips hovering near his ear as you whispered, "Only if I get to make you beg for it first."

Satoru's breath hitched, and his eyes flickered with surprise and excitement at your boldness. His grip on your thighs tightened, and his cocky smirk grew wider, clearly pleased with your response. "Oh, Sweets," he murmured, his voice dripping with playful challenge. "I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight."

Satoru wasted no time, his hand sliding between your thighs with practiced ease, his eyes focused solely on your face. You could only bite your lip in response as he easily slipped his fingers beneath your underwear, his breath growing heavier with each passing second.

"Shit… you're soaked," he breathed out, voice rough with desire.

You can feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment, heat flooding your body as his touch sent sparks through you. It was almost too easy for him to slip a single finger inside you, sinking in to the knuckle with no resistance.

His thumb began working in small, slow circles, rubbing against your clit, and your hips twitch involuntarily in response. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel your body reacting without thought.

Your hips moved on their own, instinctively jutting forward in small circles, matching the rhythm of his fingers as he skillfully worked you over. You barely had time to catch your breath before he added another finger, pressing deeper, massaging your walls with a deliberate, teasing pressure.

A sharp, breathy squeak left you when he found your G-spot. "There she goes…" he murmurs with a low moan, his own hips twitching slightly beneath you, as if the sight of your reaction was enough to affect him too.

Before you know it, the tension inside you snapped. You gasp, feeling yourself reach the peak as your body shudders and tightens around his fingers, your mind reeling from the pleasure coursing through you.

While you were still clenching and twitching from your release, Satoru didn't hesitate. He pulled your underwear to the side and swiftly guided you down onto him, bullying his dick into your small hole.

A low hiss escaped his lips, followed by a growl as his entire body tensed beneath you, almost as if he was in pain.

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of you when he bottomed out in one stroke, your hips pressed flush against his. The fullness in your lower stomach was overwhelming, your thighs burning as they settled around his waist.

Your body reacted instinctively, twitching and clenching down as another orgasm washed over you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Satoru groaned, his voice thick and slurred as he lifted you up and down slowly, your whole clenching tight like a vice.

A low moan escaped his lips as he stared up with dazed and half-lidded eyes, as if he were completely drunk off the feel of you. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his head lolling back against the cushion.

You could only cling helplessly to his broad shoulders, your body trembling like a ragdoll as his hips picked up speed, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room with each deep thrust.

You were lost in the feel of him, lost in the way his lust matched yours, the heat between you nearly unbearable.

Satoru's hand found its way to your neck, fingers wrapping around it like a collar as he tilted your head back, exposing the curve of your throat. You could feel his breath, hot and ragged, as his other hand trailed up slowly, his thumb brushing against your lips before slipping into your mouth.

A moan escaped you, muffled around his digit, your thighs twitching in response to the growing pressure building deep inside you.

Satoru's hips snapped up harder as if he could feel how close you were. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and just as you felt yourself about to tip over, his voice broke through the haze, panting and breathless in your ear.

"Y'know…" he rasped, punctuating each word with a rough thrust, "…I was sent here… to kill you…" His grip tightened on your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he groaned into your ear. "But how… can I get… rid of something… this… perfect?"

His voice was filthy, dripping with lust, and his words came out between gasping breaths. "My perfect… little cock-sleeve…" He smirked against your neck, his voice growing lower and more ragged with each thrust. "… And I'm never letting you go."

You couldn't stop the shudder that ran through you as his words sank in. Just as you tipped over the edge into one last, mind-numbing release, you couldn’t help but wonder what your future held next.

A/N: not me screeching into my pillows while editing like i didnt write this 😭😭

[raitonsfw]

{ 𝕯𝖆𝖇𝖎 } - m.i.a. missing in action.

content warnings; nsfw mdni, dark content (mentions of quirk violence towards reader), hero!reader x villian!dabi, cunnilingus & v fingering, face riding, slight degradation, dabi has a tongue piercing, dabi's irritated ofc, just a snippet i could barely manage.

"𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔵, 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱'𝔰 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥," you heard dabi grumble underneath you, his hands heating the backs of your thighs as he smacked them curtly before removing his lips from your wet heat. “quit movin’ or i’ll stop the tongue action. n’ sit down fully on me dammit, will ya?”

you huffed out a quiet apology, sinking your thighs further open as you caught a glimpse of the scowl shrouding his face. his breath muddled against your cunt as you resituated yourself, the tight feeling fading slightly and replacing with pure neediness. “dabi… please.”

you weren’t supposed to be there for long; a quick fuck would’ve sufficed but one thing just led to another and now it’s two hours from the sunrise and three from the hero mission waiting for you. he hadn’t even fucked you yet– just played with your pretty pussy the whole night til you were whimpering from overstimulation.

“please what? use your words.”

“k-keep going…” you breathed out, a blush spread across your cheeks as they heated up from embarrassment. you’ve only been hovering over his face for a mere few minutes since your last orgasm, something he had fucking wanted– essentially pleaded in your ear to let him eat you out til morning and then he’d give you your reward. but now, he’s chastising you? 

he let out a discontented hum before his tongue swirled against your swollen clit once more. you jolted above him, another broken whine escaping you and your hands immediately pierced through his hair, tugging it as you felt his beaded tongue piercing nudge deliciously against you. dabi’s eyes slipped closed at that, moaning quietly as he lapped circles against the bud– until you started to grind against him harshly and they snapped open with annoyance.  

“fucking c’mon now…” he gritted, lifting you off of him and onto his lap. you straddled him, head cloudy from your ruined orgasm. before you knew it, his fingers plunged inside of you, thick and brooding– uncaring even. “you just don’t listen, do you? lucky you get this much from me, brat.” 

oh, that was the mood he was in. 

his demeanor was bruised and unrelenting… scary even. dare you move an inch and his hand would flash hot blue within you that would make you see more than stars. and that fueled you, wanting nothing more than to fuck down onto his fingers and see his face etch with deep irritation.

“hero y/h/n, missing in action… it has a nice ring to it.” you heard dabi coo in your ear as you gasped out another moan when his fingers grazed your sweet spot, curling so slightly upwards it made you tremble. of course he knew you were going to try to move, his other hand grasping the middle of your waist casually, a hellbent fire waiting to heat up from the midst of his palm.

“y/n baby... don’t even think about it.” 

this was the cost for playing with a villain, after all.

𝔞/𝔫; sneak peek of my new potential theme for my thirsts! it's slowly coming together, whether i like it or not- just have to finish up a few more things before i switch over!

[pedge-page]

Cravings

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!reader

Summary: Pussy eating king frankie, who gets his aforementioned nickname when you tried to come up with ways to prevent him from relapsing back to coke.

Warnings: soooo much oral —pussy eating, cum eating, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants, kissing, Frankie's mouth is everywhere, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, little dub con since Frankie doesn't ask if he can cum inside, overstimulation, free use esc situations

Notes: This is NOT the Frankie free-use series I mentioned before; I'm a bit delayed with writing it, so here's something else i had started as a drabble but then... did not stay a drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this fic!

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Rather than drowning himself in coke, Santi slyly suggest he drowns himself in pussy instead. The guys around the table laughed, but you kind of agreed and told him you'd help set him up on hookups. Frankie didn't want to go through the trouble of having to find a potentially different girl each night. Plus, his cravings were sporadic. He would need his fix in that moment whenever it came.

He remembered back when you had drunkenly admitted guys could hardly satisfy you because you had a high drive, usually cumming on your fingers at least 6 times a day before bed, often times more on lonely weekends. He was left speechless at the time, but now he couldn't get Santi's proposition mixed with that knowledge of you out of his head.

You tried to cook him meals instead or buy him hoards of candy, but the idea was stuck in his mind. You knew you'd be a convenient alternative, given you only lived less than 10 minutes away and was always around when he needed help. But you were afraid of crossing that line with one of your all time best friends.

Eventually, being around him so much—"on call" as the boys put it—left you susceptible to his sweet touches, ghosting lips against your ears, sporadic twitches and jittery hands, antsy fingers dancing along your hips. You considered the option heavily before finally caving: you were doing this to HELP him, as his friend. Just a little relief every so often when he absolutely needed it.

You came 9 times on his tongue the first time. It wasn't even that he was trying to make you cum, but the eagerness in the way he moved so fast, growling and moaning at the taste, his lips attached and never left your heat. His big nose just perfectly bumping your clit each time he pointed his tongue dove deep into your craving hole, curling up and hitting that soft spot inside you left you shaking and crying out his name, back arched and fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He was sated for almost 6 days (and you needed the ample recovery time because not even your fingers could make you cum so hard) before the craving hit again. Incessant knuckles pounded your doorstep. You had barely unlocked the door before he was shoving himself in and devouring your mouth with his. "I need another hit, carniño."

He didn't wait for a response, knocking you on your ass on the sofa and stripping your sweats and panties off before throwing one leg over his shoulder. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long strip along from your hole to your clit, obscenely guttural moans from the back of his throat filled your ears. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, as if starved for weeks and was finally given the sugar rush of the century.

You inevitably move in with him, claiming his spare bedroom, worried about how bad he gets when he goes anything longer than a few hours without you.

He makes you ride his face until you're suffocating him, and he still can't get enough. Your juices flood his mouth and nose and his eyes roll back as he loses air. You try to get off and apologies, but he's caged your thighs with his muscular arms, holding your pussy flat against his face as he devoured you more, ignoring your squirming pleas. He hums against your nub, the vibrations sending you into your own addictive high. You cum again, and again, and again, and soon you're tugging his hair, crying his name with fat tears down your cheek, leaning back and scratching at his chest to let off, but its useless. He's so lost in your cunt that you become light headed, barely holding on to the headboard as your lower body continues to spasm.

He only pulls off for a minute, squeezing his nostrils to force out your juices. He's so dazed, pupils blown wide, beard and mustache drenched in your slick, so pussy-drunk and in love that he wants to do it again. "Sweetest fucking cunt, I swear. Just wanna curl up and live inside here, querida."

You offer to suck him off but he gestures embarrassingly down, where you turn to see a dark splotch on the belt-line of his pants where the tip of his spent cock peaks out, dribbling little white drops onto his lower belly, having cum untouched just from eating you out.

It gets to the point where you lock yourself in the bathroom when you take a shower just to have 10 minutes of peace. Your pussy is so puffy, clit so swollen from his constant assault day and night that you have to calm down and remind yourself what good its doing for him. He hasn't touched the white powder in weeks.

He's wondered where you've gone when he sees the bathroom light illuminate under the door. He knocks a few times, then raps harsher with his fists, calling out your name. You tell him you just need a minute. The makeshift locks on the bathroom door of Frankie's apartment isn't designed to keep an ex militant out, and he just pushes it forward with enough force that it gives way and he let's himself in. You go to cover yourself when he pulls the shower curtains away, but the same needy expression on his face as he narrows in to the slit between your legs has you aching once again. It's Pavlovian, the way he stares, practically drooling, hands twitching by his side, sending signals to your cunt to start dripping for his appetite. He spins you around so your cheek is smothered against tile, ass out towards him, not caring about the water drenching his baseball cap, grey shirt and pants as he kneels on the shower floor and puts his face between your legs. He moans when his lips start sucking on your nub, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole. He keeps you in your spread position with his arms holding your waist, making their way to spread your ass for him to dive further in, knees between your heels. You reach one arm back, knocking his cap off as you card your fingers through his damp hair, gripping it when you cum and grind yourself back on his scruffy face.

He's otherwise so gentle, so soft spoken, but when he gets between your legs, something primal takes over and you can hardly recognize him.

Sometime in the evening while you were watching a movie, you see his knee bouncing next to you. You has snapped at him earlier and refused his hunger when he peppered kisses all over your neck, down your back, then tried to yank your pants down while you were cooking dinner for the two of you, nearly burning your arm on the stove from such force.

You hated that you had outright refused him for the first time, but the truthfully the swollenness between your legs needed rest before he wrecked you again. He's biting his lip so hard, stealing glances at you before rubbing his hair and shifting his cap back on.

You instead take your top off, having gotten comfortable enough to go without a bra when it was just the two of you. Frankie is a bit shocked, only used to seeing you strip your pants first before anything else.

You crawl over to him before sitting in his lap, thighs spread over his. He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off of your tits right in front of him. His legs are still bouncing in agitation, the movement making your breasts jiggle right in front of him. He groans, licking his lips, breathing heavily.

"She needs a break, Fish," you said quietly, your soft and small hands seeking his big and callous ones, pulling them up over your waist before letting them settle on your cups.

He doesn't hesitate or ask further, head leaning forward and lips immediately latching on to your nipple. He moans, eyes closed as he sucks around the areola, tongue swirling your pebble as he kneads them in his hands.

You're trying so hard not to grind down on his cock, instead sitting upright on your knees so you're not fully resting your damp panty-covered crotch against the tent in his pants. The position is more head level with your tits, but he doesn't like that. He grips your hips to bring you flush against him, gasping out when you instinctually start rocking your hips steadily against his clothed length.

He noticed how heavily your chest is flexing, glaring up at you to see your brows furrowed, face tilted towards the ceiling trying not to cum on him. He cups his hands against your cheeks and brings you in for a sweet kiss, his lips slotting perfectly against yours as his hands return to palming your breasts. He presses his forehead against yours so your eyes meet, goosebumps wracking your whole body at the lust behind his eyes, and something more you couldn't place. "So good to me, querida. Perfect lips"—he gently pecks your lips—"perfect tits"—then a generous kiss to each of your breasts—"my perfect girl." You could smell the scent of your pussy on his lips, as if they'd be stained there now. Kissing your lips, your throat, collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, and erect nipples, and all the way back up again, was enough to keep his mouth busy and his craving subsided. And it worked almost as well, the two of you cumming sticky and wet against one another in your underwear with heavy sighs and sated eyes; you had calmed him down enough to get him to remove his clothes and put on a fresh pair of boxers before tucking him to his own bed with your favorite blanket.

As you tip toed into the bathroom to prep for a bath, you stared at your naked reflection: how swollen, and red your breasts were, covered in raised bite marks the shape of Frankie's jaws. Among your new scars are the faded scratches and bruises of Frankie's fingertips on your waist, stomach and lower back from how incessantly he devours you while his face is buried in your sopping pussy, like he had to sink his claws into you so you wouldn't slip away as he feasted. You look like you were attacked by a passionate lion.

His sweet nothings every time he stared into your eyes was what really turned you on. You tell yourself that it was just the withdrawal symptoms talking. That he was basically just high on a new drug.

-

To you, it must have looked like Frankie's craving were only getting worse with how increasingly frequent his lips found themselves attached to your body. In truth, his desire for coke steadily grew less, and it wasn't the replacement of the powder that he was seeking from you but rather the insaitability of finally having you that grew stronger.

The rest of boys noticed the effects you're having on Frankie too. They see it when he meets them for a drink every other Saturday, the way he anxiously taps his foot under the table, glancing around like he's unsure what to do, where to go, because he can't sit still. It's the signs of his cravings kicking back in, and they're all worried at first. But it's not until you up show later and slide into the booth next to him that they notice: Frankie casually drapes his arm around your shoulders like he always did—that part was normal. But what was new is how they could visibly see Frankie's heart rate slow, the way he slumped against the bench and completely calmed down from just your presence.

They also couldn't help but notice the way his eyes raked you with a mix of lust, love, and obsession, his dark gaze never once leaving the sight of you the entire night. All the while you laughed and chatted with them about your week, oblivious to the change in demeanor of your friend from just a few months ago.

You assured the boys that you two weren't fucking—and it was true, you hadn't slept with him once. albeit a few blow jobs, it was exclusively just Frankie eating you out or kissing. You were very hopeful that his cravings were going to go away soon since its the longest he's been off coke. You were even talking to your old landlord to see if your old apartment a few blocks away still had openings since you'd be moving out of Frankie's place soon. Santi couldn't help but see Frankie's dejection, his arm sliding away from you as he excused himself to get more beer.

By the end of the night, Frankie was drunk out of his mind. Will suggested he slow down so he wouldn't pass out before he could walk home. It sounded like a good plan, until Francisco glanced over to the bar and saw you sitting there and smiling at a guy who was flirting with you. Fish took a giant gulp of his beer, downing the entire jug before slamming it on the table and striding out of the booth towards you. He overheard the guy asking if you had a ride home tonight.

"She comes home with me. Every. Night," he slurred, his sweaty palm skimming possessively over your jean-clad thigh and snaking between your legs, face coming so close to you that your noses slide against each other. Frankie's eyes bore into yours with so much desire, it bordered on range. You knew those were his craving eyes. The pungent smell of alcohol on his breath made you flinch as he tried to pull you in for a kiss. You quickly tell the confused guy that he's your roommate and you need to get him home immediately. You could barely finish excusing yourself from the stranger before Frankie was dragging you out of the bar. You managed to wave to the others, making a drinking gesture and pointing to Frankie before being yanked into the street.

He was stumbling all over the place, breath uneven as you hoisted him up to lean against you, eventually making it through his apartment entrance and turning the key to unlock his unit.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Frankie slammed the door close behind him and pinned you up against it, his hands roaming your body as his mouth desperately sought yours. "Craving," he mumbled against your open lips. "Need"—tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it before releasing with a pop— "need you," he panted.

"I know, I know—Jesus Fish. I'm—gonna help—gonna take care of you—" you breathed, ashamed of how quickly you could feel your panties dampen. It never bothered him though, and only encouraged his sweet tooth more. You weren't nearly as drunk as him, but your few margaritas made you extremely susceptible, even welcoming, to his touch.

You hummed into his shoulder when his hard bulge rubbed purposefully against your covered core. He bit your earlobe as he fisted your low-neck shirt before pulling it down roughly, the fabric tearing away. You gasped, ready to scold him but he pressed his mouth on you again, teeth clashing, his hands slotting down your body to pinch, grope, scratch at any bit of skin he could get.

"So—so good t'me. Always taking—such good care of me, cariño."

His fingers dip into your ass and hoist you up so he's carrying you, your arms and legs wrapped securely around him as he boldered through his apartment, kicking his door open before tossing you on the bed, watching you bounce. You never break eye contact as you unbutton your jeans at the same time Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to unfasten his belt and zipper.

Clambering over you to reseal your lips, you breath in his scent, hands exploring his tone arms, down his chest and muscle middle all the way to the little pooch of tummy hanging. His hands gripped your jeans and pulled them along with you down the length of the bed, bringing you to the edge, his grip pushing up on the back of your thighs so your knees are digging against your rib cage, pulsing pussy exposed at his mercy. "I fuckin' love this pussy, querida," he growled before burying his face between you folds for the thounsandth time. "So fuckin' wet for me," he mumbled against your thigh, nipping at the skin.

He ate you out with precision, eyes hungry watching you, determined to make you fall apart quickly. He wasn't doing it for his own taste, but the sheer satisfaction of watching you writhe for him, knowing your body inside out as the only one who could get you like this. He's languidly thrusting two fingers in and out. You didn't even need to be stretched: he'd practically been prepping you for months now. You're crying out into the air as you cum, hips bucking against his nose with your heels digging into his shoulder blades. Frankie pulls away, kissing your stomach and up your tits before making you taste yourself on his lips.

The feeling of his cock nudging your entrance make your once dazed eyes go wide and alert. He pauses, suddenly worried. He can't read your expression, time dragging out too long and it scares the fuck out of him that he's taking it too far, that you didn't agree to this.

He had wanted to tell you everything right then: how he dreams of you riding him, or when he fists his cock in the shower when you're at work to the thought of what your tight walls would feel like wrapped around him when first violates you, how he automatically gets aroused now when he just sees you or smells your laundry, or admitting how many times he's actually cum in his pants without you noticing when he is buried between your legs, dying to have you cum around his cock instead of his tongue.

It's not until you sense his hesitation that you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, sharing the same breath of air, nodding as your calves hook over his ass and squeeze his hips, the tip of his flush cock slipping in to your wet heat.

You both sigh heavily into each other's mouth when he takes charge again and thrusts fully inside you. He scrunches his eyes closed, forehead dipping down to your breast bone to revel in the overwhelming feeling of the tight space inside you.

You warmly caress his hair to bring him back up to you, kissing him and whispering, lips trembling, "Don't—don't think about it. Just... just use me."

His heart sank: You probably just thought this was another hit for him.

He didn't want to think about the fact that you were everything he'd needed in that moment, the image of perfection beneath him beautifully laid out for his eyes, his touch, but not for his soul. He gritted his teeth, pulling out then slamming back in, jolting your whole body up the mattress. It was fast, rough, and not at all how he wanted your first time to be with him, but he couldn't control his urges. He was gasping loudly as he fucked you, your cunt gushing around his member, the obscene sound of slick and skin slapping skin echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.

He brought his thumb to rub messy circles on your clit, sending you into a spasm of praises and expletives, but the most satisfying sound was his name repeated over and over again.

He barely manages to pull out before jerking his cock only twice and creaming all over your folds and clit. Groaning in post orgasmic bliss, he watches you heaving and shaking, filthy pussy covered in his seed. Half of his mind is only working now as he slides back down to lap you clean with his mouth, his own saltiness filling his throat, fingers scissoring inside to get your juices flowing, obsessed with the sight in front of him: your back arched off the bed, heels digging into his lower back as his hands pinning your hips down flat so he can work his mouth over you. And then you're cumming again, so angelic on his tongue, your sweet moans going right to his dick, hardening once again as he ruts into the mattress. He nips your clit and sucks, reluctant to pull away as he lines up and splits you open. You scream out, and if it weren't for the way your barely-recovered battered walls kept sucking him back in, he'd be worried you're in pain. His hands hook under your lower back, lifting you off the bed as he plows into your squelching cunt over and over again.

Youre both covered in a thin layer of sweat, the pillows and comforter of his bed strewn haphazardly around the floor as he dominates you. The headboard slammed recklessly agains the wall, and neither of you cared about your neighbors trying to sleep at 1 in the morning. He ignores the oversensitivity of his cock and your clit, forcing you both into an unexpected climb of another orgasm like it was a primal need.

It was happening without warning; he should be asking for permission, but he knew you took the pill, and he's been dying to release inside you from the moment you first let him put his lips on you. You're cumming on his cock again, hips bucking and grinding against him without your clit being touched, and he was done for.

With a harsh cry, he climaxes again, his length flooding your womb with ribbons of white. His arm shoots in front of him, flat on the bed next to your ear to hold himself up so he didn't crash down on you as his hips jerked, pushing his seed deeper in to you.

He rested most of his weight on top of you, labored breaths combined into one. He kisses the top of your nose, whispering "thank you," unsticking your sweaty bodies as he rolls you two over to have you lying on top, your head next to his. He pats your hair over your ear, pebbling your forehead and eyelids in kisses. His cock twitched in your spent heat, cum leaking out and dripping down to his balls and on the bed.

"Glad I—could...help..." you mumbled, eyes already closed as you drifted into sleep.

His softening dick slipped from your pussy, warm hands wiping you with his shirt before settling you gently on a pillow. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, naked and fast alseep on his bed. He pulled his sheets higher to your shoulder, his heart beating faster at the way you snuggled further into his pillow.

Frankie stared at the ceiling for hours, hand on his forehead in anguish, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to tell you it wasn't cocaine he was craving last night.

- - - -

Part 2: Crash

Series masterlist

[aceyalonso]

we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

yn.ln

liked by lewishamilton, lyka.val, george_russell and 644,819 others yn.ln Shopping sprees, a hot best friend, and an even hotter husband? I'm winning. tagged lewishamilton, lyka.val

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[soggyriceee]

strawberry | Konig nsfw

| this one is a smut, but also angst. basically, Konig gets you to use your safe word for the very first time after being gone for a year in the German base. so, I hope you all enjoy :) |

warnings: rough sex, crying (not good kind) angst, aggressive konig, not edited, will be edited in the morning

╰┈➤

Konig was always gentle during sex. and it a hundred percent had to do with the fact he was literally twice your height and then some. yes he left hickeys, small small bruises on your hips from his grasp, left your legs a bit wobbly. but those were normal considering his size. and even when you reassured him you liked that, he would always apologize profusely, getting you anything you need for hours and hours after.

but tonight, he was a whole other man. he wasn't the same kind and giving Konig. and to an extent you liked the new dominance, the new aggression. it was hot.

until it wasn't.

Konig had been between your legs, fingering and eating you out for about an hour. he was hungry, and not for edible food. he was hungry for you. that sweet pussy of yours, your tight cunt gripping his fingers or dick. he missed it while he was back in Germany for some mission he had given you little information about. all you knew was he was in the middle of Germany, killing potential threats.

already you had came 4 times (that he allowed). he was so pussy drunk, he hadn't realized the tears that brimmed those pretty eyes. in fact, his eyes were closed, his lower half grinding into the bed. you were sure he had already came in his pants at least twice at this point. he would occasionally whimper into you pussy, his hips moving faster against the bed. " fuck ive missed this pussy maus.. you dont even understand." he said into your drenched cunt. a mix of saliva and cum ran down your legs, a big puddle underneath the both of you.

"k-konig can we.. take a break please." you cried from above, your legs shaking despite his mouth simply on your thighs, leaving more and more marks. he nipped at the soft flesh of yours after those words came out, a low growl leaving his lips. " how dare you ask such a question?" he rose, pulling his pants down. and you were right.

his dick was layered in his cum, more of it dripping out from the tip. he was so agonizingly hard, he couldnt bare to fuck into the bed anymore. he needed what he dreamt of every night since leaving. and he needed it now. "imma fuck my babies into you liebling.. make you swollen with them." he said, almost to himself, as he grabbed the base of him, looking down at your pussy.

as much as you wanted him to rearrange your guts, you were drained. he had made you so overstimulated, you could barely form thoughts. it was hard trying to even raise your head from the pillow. but he didnt care. he hadn't realized it before, but as much as he does want to cherish your body like its a rare piece of art from olden times, worth millions of dollars, he loved seeing you fucked out just as much. he loved seeing how he had complete control over your body and there was nothing you could do. it sparked a whole new person in him, one that you were quickly growing scared of.

before you could process his tip sliding slowly into you with ease, his hips were already slamming into yours, his balls hitting your cum soaked ass with so much force, the sound filled the room. your hands clutched onto his shoulders for dear life, your eyes squeezing shut. " you look so fucking pretty maus.. so fucking pretty. all fucked out like this.. shit~" he groaned, his eyes watching your face twist in what he believed was pleasure.

and for a bit it was. until he raised your leg all the way up, leaving the other down. your leg fell over his shoulder and your arms flopped to your side. he was hitting directly at your cervix and it hurt. but he was in so much pleasure. his head fell back as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his lips spitting out dirty phrases in both English and German.

and of course, being away from sex for a year, Konig was beyond sensitive. he came for the first time within the first few thrusts, his head falling into your bruised breasts, whimpering out how good it feels. but that didnt stop him. he kept going.

his hand found its way to your throat, gripping it unintentionally hard. with the mix of tears and now the shortness of breath, it was all a lot on your body physically. Konig had gotten to carried away inside your pussy, the way it sucked him back in. "fuck maus.. your s-so wet.. im close again~" he whimpered, his lips latching to your breasts to find space to mark it yet again.

at this point you were literally going in and out of vision. his grip on you grew tighter as he released yet another load into you. you too felt your pussy leaking, unaware of the knot that was in your stomach. you were feeling too many things at once that you ended up going completely numb. you whimpered below him, trying to find anything to get him to realize that you needed a break. but the tears that fell from your eyes only made him wanna fuck you more.

he slid out, watching the mixture of cum literally pour out of you. your thighs were soaked and red from the constant biting and nibbling a few moments ago. your face was red as well from the lack of oxygen. he let go of your neck, licking his lips as if he was deciding what to do with you next. all he knew, was that he wanted to keep fucking you.

he grabbed your legs and pressed them together and into your chest. immediately you felt his dick slide right in, going at his fast pace yet again. "k-konig please- I-i cant" you managed to choke out, your head hitting the bed frame with each thrust he gave you. this was when the fun for you ended. it only made him more and more horny, seeing you tap out so soon after he began to fuck you.

the look in his eyes was not the same look when he came home, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand as he ran up to you, lifting you off the ground and placing kisses all over your face. no. this look was dangerous. it was almost like it was the same look he had on the battle field.

his hand went back to your throat, his head tilting to the side slightly. "shut up a-and fucking.. take it. I know.. you missed this a-as much as me." he growled, moving his hips only faster and deeper. but you couldnt take it. you truly couldnt take it.

by the time you felt your 6th orgasm approaching, you began to see white light in the corners of your eyes, and you knew you were truly at your limit. "s-strawberry" you tried to say as loud as you could. but the sounds of your cunt and konigs whimpers, he couldnt hear you. his thrusts kept going until you felt him release inside you again, his grip on your throat enough to snap your throat. and at that same time, what you though was impossible happened. you had the most painful orgasm ever, your body feeling like it was going to shut down entirely. it was like you had nothing else to give.

""fuck libeling.. gimme one more.. be a good girl." he whispered breathlessly, his hips beginning to once again, move. this time slower but still deep. but you physically couldn't take it.

once you felt yourself begin to doze off from the lack of oxygen and overstimulation, you were finally able to coherently and loudly say, 'strawberry'.

╰┈➤

you woke up about a half hour later, your throat sore and body just as sore. you tried to turn but your legs gave you a painful sign to stay put. thats when it all came back what had happened. of course, it made tears well up in your eyes. you'd just seen a side of Konig you never thought you'd see. a side of him he kept hidden from you.

you stayed completely still, looking into nothing until you heard sniffles coming from the floor behind you. of course, you tried to move but it hurt. but eventually you were able to turn to your side, a few pained moans leaving you every now and then. thats when your eyes landed on Konig sitting on the floor, head in his hands as tears seeped through his fingers.

"Konig?" you said, wincing right after. but he didnt look up. he kept his head in his hands, his chest rising and falling quick. and you knew what this was. you'd been with him for so long, you knew exactly what he was going through based off his body. but as much as you wanted to help him, you genuinely couldnt feel your legs. "please come here.. I cant get up. let me hold you." you said, reaching your hand out. but still, nothing.

you felt a pain in your chest watching him like this, unable to do anything. you wanted to help him, reassure him that everything is okay. but words only do so much for him, he needed you to physically show him everything was okay. "Konig please I-" "I h-hurt you. im s-so s-sorry." he spoke out, hyperventilating throughout all. he began to rock on the floor, crying harder into his hands.

hearing him cry, it made you want to cry with him. especially since, you couldnt do anything but try and talk to him. "Konig please." you tried reasoning with him. but he couldnt get himself off the floor. thats when you decided to drag yourself off the bed, no matter how much pain you felt. you knew that yes you needed help too, but you weren't gonna get any if your help was having a panic attack.

once you got to the end of the bed, you crawled off of it slowly, your hands hitting the ground first, legs second. you groaned at the light impact, but still dragged yourself over to Konig. he was shaking when you got to him, his cries not stopping, even when you rested your hand on his foot. "Konig please stop crying.. look im okay. im alive." "but you almost weren't." he was looking up now. seeing his red puffy eyes broke your heart. and seeing you, looking lifeless and not responding to him made him even more worried for you than you were for him. the only thing that kept him going was your pulse, and barely that.

"I-i almost k..killed-" he couldnt finish his sentence before sobbing into his hands again, shaking his head. your head dropped, you didnt know what to say. you'd never experienced this issue with Konig, with anyone before. you'd never had to use your safe word and you never expected to. "Konig.. can you look at me?" you finally spoke, your voice stern.

he looked up at you, wiping his eyes. " it was an experience, okay? yes it was scary and yes it could've gone wrong. but it was a could've situation, not a did happen situation. as much as I want to help you feel better, I cant do that if I cant see you, and talk to you like I am now." your hand took his, squeezing gently. he sniffled and nodded, looking straight into you. " right now, I need help too. so lets help each other feel better." you said, smiling softly at him.

he looked down at your neck, some of the hickies leaving behind dried blood or bite marks. some even both. his heart dropped as he ran his eyes down your body again, the thsirt he put on you the second he realized you had passed out, barely covering the similar marks on your thighs. "im.. im so sorry maus.." he whispered, shaking his head.

you smiled and grabbed his face, leaning in as slow as you could as to not hurt yourself, leaving small kisses on his cheek. " I love you Konig, okay? you got a bit carried away. you've been gone a year. its normal. unexpected, but I understand. just please, next time-" "ill treat you like your made of glass libeling." he finished, grabbing your face.

Konig knew deep down, he'd never forgive himself for this. for putting you in danger like that, for turning into the man he was on the battlefield. he'd never forgive himself, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. it wasn't. and he felt worse about being the one on the floor crying instead of showering you in love.

he stood, grabbing you with such ease into his arms, flipping you bridal style. you clung to his neck, smiling at him. "lets go give you a bath, ill order your favorite food. or I can cook. then we can watch that show you've been watching. we can do anything you want maus.. I love you." he said, walking towards the connected bathroom.

and you both did just that. the rest of the night you stayed in, cuddling and watching your favorite shows. as bedtime grew closer for you both, he began to clean the marks along your body, kissing each one and apologizing after them all. he felt so bad, and he was willing to go above and beyond, and even then some, to make you feel like the beautiful princess you were.

[romanoffsbish]

The Understudy

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

“Natasha x F!R”

Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill

Warnings: Jealousy | Yandere—Attempted Murder (if you squint) | Mutual Pinning (Simping)

Smut: Mommy (W) | d/s | Tribbing | Oral / Cum-Strap (R) | Overstimulation | 🤏🏼 Breeding | Masturbation (W) | KO | Soft Aftercare | Cockwarming

Natasha was a charismatic woman—sure, yet you found yourself enraptured by her gorgeous understudy—Wanda. | WC: 6,945

Request: “anything about jealous top!wanda and just having her way with fem reader sounds good to me” | College AU

I am so sorry it took so long @wandagcre 😩

18+ | Minors DNI

Wanda let a harsh breath leave her as she glared up to see as Natasha circled you like a hawk and if not for the sake of her credibility around campus with the faculty she wouldn't have let the other woman grip you by the hips and pull you in. The both of you wore wide grins as Natasha's nose nudged yours, pushing your face to the side as she gently cupped your cheeks, Wanda was rather close to combusting at the intended next move.

——

“Cut!"

The moment your professor called out the command you separated from your cast mate with a softer smile. Yet Wanda's jealousy didn't simmer, relief far away when the redhead still kept your attention on her.

Natasha pulled you back in, but only for a friendly hug.

"I just wanted to say, thanks for trusting me Y/N/N."

"It's easy to do," you giggled and squeezed her tight, then you parted ways and went to collect your bags.

There was a tension in the air as you prepared to leave that you didn't quite understand, so you sought it out. After glancing around the room for a moment you saw the source—Wanda Maximoff, Natasha's understudy with her eyes angrily cast upon the Russian's face.

She's also the unobtainable woman of your dreams, or so you deemed as you'd yet to approach her with more than a bit of shop talk. Normally the brunette would carry the interaction and nine times out of ten it was perfectly pleasant. However, Wanda always seemed standoffish when you weren't alone, which made you think that maybe she didn't want people to see you two as anything more than potential on stage partners.

Oh what a fool you were, because as you hurriedly waltzed out of the auditorium you avoided her stare that had shifted over to you—a longing glance that lingered long after the large oak doors shut behind you.

——

A week had come and gone, the show was not far off and it was coming together nicely. You and Natasha practiced your lines religiously and kept the bond between you both strong for the sake of chemistry and your overall grade as this show would be your final. In return, a beautiful friendship had been forged and you were more than grateful for the expanded circle.

All that stood in your way was the darn kiss, your heart not only yearned for another, but Natasha's had one which only seemed to make you more nervous.

You'd recently met her girlfriend, Maria Hill, when you went to their dorm to go over the script two weeks ago.

It was a bit intimidating, but when she offered you a chocolate chip cookie and help on your homework you knew she was the perfect partner for your new friend.

Natasha dreamed of making it big, and to do that she'd need a partner who understood that intimate scenes were just a part of the job, not a slight against her.

The woman even gave you her blessing last night with a warm smile, "I trust you." That alone had eased most tension you had left for the show; you were ready.

—

Today was the play's opening day, the set pieces were complete and the scenes ran to perfection. Besides the kiss, the both of you only ever got close to sharing a passionate lip-lock for the sake of show business. It was however not too necessary until today to share it.

When you walked onto stage you skipped over to the redhead who was casually reading out of a textbook.

"Hey Tasha," you greeted, the redhead peered up as she mindlessly closed the book to see your smile. It was adorable how nervous you were honestly, the kiss was only a blip in the play—lasting less than ten seconds.

This is a PG-13 university production after all.

"Hey honey," she greeted, tone sweet as can be in an attempt to ease your tense shoulders and it worked.

For the most part anyways. "A-are you ready?"

Natasha smiled, "I am," then sighed, "but, are you?"

You nodded unconvincingly and she stood to her feet so that she could approach you, her hand cupped your cheek as she stared into your eyes. "Follow my lead."

A nervous smile was all you offered the woman who moved in even closer, her warm breath on your cheek felt rather comforting. "We don't even have to kiss, all we have to do is make the audience believe it happens."

"I don't want to disappoint people," you muttered with a nervous conviction and the redhead chuckled softly. "No one will leave knowing, I'm an amazing actress."

You giggled and Natasha beamed knowing that she'd at least calmed a bit of your nerves. To the both of you it was obvious that her touch was meant to make you ease into the concept of the intimacy, but to onlookers it would almost present as an act of personal affection.

The redhead waited for you to make a move, but it was not something you had time for as you quickly realized that the prop above your heads was teetering in the air.

Wanda had been stood behind the red draped curtain fuming, her hand reflexively wrapped around the string that suspended the hefty prop above Nat's head. There was no conscious intent when she yanked down, it was purely reflexive as she watched you two practice.

It was all you could do to yank the woman out of the line of impact before the piece shattered on the stage.

"Holy shit Nat," you squealed, "that was a close call!"

"Yeah," the redhead hardly acknowledged you, eyes too focused in on the blur of familiar black and red hues weaving between the curtains. "Are you okay Nat?"

No, she most definitely was not, but she'd pretend.

The redhead internally rolled her eyes, but pressed on as if the freak accident wasn't premeditated. To your face at least, because not even ten minutes later—after she convinced you all was well did she go find the perp.

"Maximoff," she growled as she found the woman in her usual spot, "I am not an oblivious idiot like Y/N."

Natasha cringed at her own words, it wasn't right to diss you but to be fair, she just nearly lost her head.

"I haven't a clue what you are going on about," she chirped bitterly, not even remotely covering her big feelings. "How unkind you are to poor Y/N though."

"Y/N and I have a fine working relationship," she immediately set the woman straight, "She's a sweet person and if you stopped being so broody maybe you could be the one she hangs out with after practices."

"I'm just the understudy," she reminded Natasha, who rolled her eyes in frustration at her petty behavior.

"You need to let it go Wanda," she groaned, "I am the theater major, you are only taking this for an elective."

Wanda stood and whisper shouted, "I want it more!"

"No," Natasha corrected as she stepped to her, a clear sign she wasn't afraid of the brunette with the raging anger problems. "You want Y/N more, which is 100% by the way because all she is to me is a friend!"

"I see the way you look at her," Wanda sneered.

"That's because it is my job, Wanda," Natasha scoffed in genuine offense before adding, "I have Maria."

Wanda glared inquisitively, "Who the hell is Maria?"

"My girlfriend since freshman year of high school."

"Oh."

Natasha chuckled agitatedly, "Yeah, so if you could refrain from trying to kill me again I'd appreciate it very much. I've planned to live a long life with her."

"I," Wanda was honestly stunned into silence. "It was an accident—but originally, I wasn't really sorry."

"At least you're honest," Natasha chuckled amusedly. "Don't confuse this moment Maximoff," the redhead continued, "I might not be a threat but you know as well as I do that Y/N is a catch—don't drag your feet."

"I know, but I can't talk to her about anything other than this stupid class," Wanda admitted in lieu of her masked pride faltering. "She's just so pretty, and soft, it's like I lose the ability to form thoughts around her."

"Pretty things are meant to be taken and cherished," the Russian teased, smile fond as she remembered what it's like to fall in love for the first time; Natasha wanted that for you too. "Trust me Wanda, Y/N is easy to talk to and I hypothesize she would be thrilled if you did, maybe try your luck tonight at the after party."

Natasha playfully acted out taking a shot as she winked at the up until now, sapphic disaster, then she swiftly left the room to let her ponder. When she returned to the stage she found you yelling at the stagehands. She shook her head in amusement then made her way over to save the poor students from your misguided wrath...

—

When you calmed down you found yourself hidden away in your dressing room staring at your reflection. There was this unspoken tension in the air once again and it made you feel queasy. It was hard for you to tell if it was first night jitters or something else entirely.

Deep down you knew it was an unwarranted sadness, one that you associated with the fact that the course would be over after this weekends line up of shows and you'd yet to find the courage to truly speak to Wanda.

"Hey, did you understand the acting prompt," and "That was a weird film to show a class full of women," were not effective ways to speak with your crush.

You knew that, but every time you built up the courage to ask her if she wanted to hang out you remembered the way she looked at you whenever you were around others. A loud sigh left you at the painful reminder that nearly made you miss the faint knock at your door.

"Come in," you meekly called out as you stood up to face whomever it was. Wanda quietly closed your door and walked into the room with a forced confidence.

"Oh, hey Wanda," you chuckled nervously, "Is Nat ok?"

You weren't sure why you asked that in greeting, but it's also not rocket science since she's her understudy. The question wasn't meant to offend either but it did as Wanda considered the possibility that she didn't have a chance with you, but then you gave her a soft smile and she remembered why she was here in the first place.

"She's fine," she politely replied, then she took a step closer and wordlessly returned your smile. You tilted your head slightly and she understood. "I just wanted to come by and wish you luck, though we both know you aren't going to need it. You're a rockstar onstage."

Wanda found amusement in the way your eyes avoided looking into her own momentarily. Once you finally found the courage to look into hers your smile had softened, which had the same effect on her heart.

"Th-thanks Wanda," you stuttered and so she got the confirmation that Natasha basically gave her earlier without exactly saying it. You liked her just the same, something she caught as your eyes fell to her lips, it was brief but obvious enough to fill her with glee.

The woman giggled and leaned forward to place a seemingly friendly kiss, to you, on your cheek. "Break a leg out there sweetheart, I'll see you later at the party."

As soon as she left the room you fell back into your chair with a wide grin and giggled, a hand on the cheek where you could still feel a damp warmth from her lips.

The nerves in your body had all but vanished, so when you were called to the stage an hour later you strutted onto the platform with confidence and it showed in the way you acted every scene to perfection. Even the kiss.

Natasha and you shared a sweet kiss, one that you let her lead as she had the natural acting chops. It was honestly terrible since all you could imagine as her lips moved against yours was what Wanda's would be like.

Your friend's lips tasted like cherry chapstick with faint hints of nicotine that you planned to admonish her for later on after the show. There was perceivable heat to it but the truth was it was void of any genuine passion.

When the two of you parted there was a sweet smile on your lips to mirror the sentiment of your characters, and it only grew wider when you saw Wanda watching. There was something special about the way she looked at you, with a tight smile but a warmth still remained.

For the first time this whole semester you felt hopeful.

—

At the party you were the focus of everyone's attention, loud cheers and genuine accolades met you at every corner in partner with Natasha's. The redhead took it all with a wide smile and thanks, but you however did not have the courage to be so proud. Your friend did her best to take the attention, seeing you look so shy.

When the chance to break away presented itself you took it, heading to the kitchen where you found an array of substances. Just as you reached out for a packed joint you felt a large, soft hand on yours.

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, "you can have it."

"We could share," a raspy voice proposed, her hand fell to your hip without request and you slightly stiffened. "You were amazing tonight Y/N, so let's celebrate."

The woman's words made you feel unhappily queasy. "I-I, um," you began to stutter, unsure how to tell this stranger that you wanted to celebrate with another.

"My room is upstairs," she cluelessly teased, as if your stance alone wasn't uncomfortable. "Move on Santos."

Wanda internally beamed when she saw you turn to her with a beyond grateful gaze, the shift breaking you free from the strangers hold and subconsciously closer to her. The horny blonde however wasn't open to being cockblocked so she turned as well and moved closer until their chests brushed. "Last I checked I don't take orders from you, Maxipad, so how about you move on."

Wanda's head tilted dangerously and you felt a flutter of joy in your chest, as well as desire between your legs. The woman caught sight of your thighs clamping and smirked triumphantly, "How about we ask Y/N?"

Your eyes widened, but your lips obediently opened as Wanda seemed to not shy away from you in public.

"What's your name?" The blonde deflated, "Raya."

"It's nice to meet you Raya," you lied with a friendly smile, "But I promised to meet Wanda at the party."

"Well, you heard her," Wanda boasted, her hand reached out and took the blunt from your fingers and smugly handed it over to the blonde in obvious pity.

The moment Raya departed you felt a ringed hand in yours, and you latched on eagerly, letting her guide you through the crowd and up the stairs to an empty room.

As if the universe deemed your dreams worth reality you felt her hands grip your hips and lips catch yours. Wanda decided since talking wasn't her strong suit that she'd start by giving into her urges first. The moment was nothing but carnal, her bare knee slid between your thighs and pressed against your core.

With elegance in her every movement she guided you over to the bed and pressed into you deeper, your thinly veiled pussy rubbed against her skin and you mewled so harshly your swollen lips had to separate.

"Wan-," the redhead shushed you with a gentle peck of her lips that reassured your nervous heart. Alongside her eyes that were full of a warmth that told you this wasn't going to be a once off itch to scratch. "Mommy needs you to stop thinking detka, let me help you."

Amusement tickled in Wanda's throat at the pliant nod you gave, adoration in her heart as your eyes glazed over and body melted further into the mattress. The glare in her eyes reminded you to speak, "please."

The permission left your lips in a breathless whine and so the redheads hands slid beneath your dress that she apparently already bunched at your hips, the cold of her fingers as they tauntingly trailed over your skin made you gasp. "I've been waiting for you to say it," she interrupted your moment of shock with words that brought an adorable pout to your lips. Wanda chuckled as she watched the curiosity fade beneath the surface of your lust as her thumbs brushed over your nipples.

It was embarrassing the way she reduced you into a wordless mess, her knee a contributing factor until she abruptly pulled it away. Viridescent eyes that were reminiscent of obsidian stones, in their active state of lust, stared down at you with a warning not to whine. Wanda beamed at your understanding and rewarded you with her lips back on yours for a fleeting moment.

A sloppy kiss to your jaw, hands roaming over your body, a goddess straddling your waist in a skirt that was much too short for her intentions for tonight to have been anything but what it already was; sinful.

You were somehow expected to remain cognizant, it was a ludicrous notion, so you didn't, all you could do was move just as she asked of you until you were moaning beneath her as her core brushed over yours.

The motion was repeated, a shiver ran down your spine at the sound of her pleasure that loudly followed up yours, it was a sound you never wanted to lose. Her movements picked up, a bare pussy against a covered one and you wanted to scream at the unfair advantage she had over you as her moans overshadowed yours.

Wanda admired your innate understanding to not touch without permission, the way you kept your fidgeting hands at the top of the mattress made her decide to reward you with even more stimulation. Especially since it was mostly her feeling pleasure as she'd yet to remove an article of clothing from you. So in a blur of erratic movements you found yourself in a more exposed state, cold air brushed over your sweaty body as your dress was haphazardly tossed aside. "Oh," Wanda hummed, "so much prettier than I dreamed."

Dreamed. The erratic beating of your heart against your ribcage actually lessened as you heard her admit to having thought about you like this before, her words from before began to make sense now too. Suddenly you were closer to the edge, a bright smile adorned your face fleetingly as you felt the delicious coiling of pleasure in your abdomen. Only to be made better as Wanda's plump lips wrapped around your nipple.

A loud cry left you when the fabric of your panties delicately stimulated your clit, "mommy please." The honorific left your lips easily, it clearly wasn't a trained response to her prior claim to it, but a natural reaction. Wanda bit into the plush flesh of your breast, arousal clear as you felt it seeping into your drenched panties.

Wanda rasped, "Wanna cum with mommy?" The smirk she wore went unnoticed by you, with the crossed eyes and agape mouth that muttered out a strangled, 'yes' as she peered up from your heaving chest. If she was possessive before it wasn't noticeable to you, but all the little moments—like the glares she sent Nat's way, now made sense as she spoke. "Tell me who you belong to," she requested this with a bite to her tone that matched the darkness in her eyes. Her teeth scraped up from the sensitive skin between your breasts to your throat.

There was no hesitation in you to reply, "mommy."

Wanda sped up her hips and started to suck harshly on nearly every inch of skin she could, intent obvious as she set out to prove your words correct. "Let go detka," she purred before her teeth sunk into your shoulder, her determined hips stuttered, the both of you writhed in tandem and the brunette pressed into you harder.

While you gasped for air the Sokovian smiled, her own breathing labored but not nearly as bad as yours. A sense of accomplishment washed over her, remaining for a sweet moment before she craved more of you. You blearily whimpered at the insinuation of her lips as they moved down your tense body, harsh love bites and soft kisses left behind—usually one after the other.

Her ministrations more than enough to have you squirming in anticipation for what you hoped was coming next. Wanda's lips pressed to your hips, then upturned cockily as they impatiently bucked of their own volition, her teeth once again scraped over your soft skin, this time over your pelvis before they had a hold of your panties so she could slowly pull them off.

Wanda was about half way down your legs before she just couldn't hold herself back anymore, the smell of you was far too enticing, so she stopped abruptly and rushed upwards with her tongue out. A lewd moan left your lips as she hummed in satisfaction, tongue vicious as it continued to lick at your sensitive, swollen pussy.

For a brief second you could only feel the warmth of her breath as she pulled away just to really breathe you in, her nose affectionately nuzzled against your clit as she inhaled and kissed your sloppy folds that tingled with need. "Oh my," she chuckled, "you're too divine."

Wanda was impossibly lost in you, initially she was going to tease you further, but then she couldn't stop. Her tongue was a beast as it lavished your intimacy just to prolong the taste of your essence on her buds. The way your slick settled against her plumped upper lip was a comforting promise that you'd linger on her face in the morning. Wanda felt like a fucking pervert with the way her mind ran wild with depraved things that would surely require a deeper conversation first.

If you'd let her, she would devour you whole, much like she was doing now. You felt like she'd split you open, her thumbs dug into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks to spread your pussy just a little bit wider and a hum of appreciation followed as you dripped down her chin.

There was no stop to her madness until you broke the silent rule, allowing your hand to drop down and slip between the messy strands of her hair. It was instinct, and so it wasn't admonished right away, the woman actually loved the way that you both pushed her away and pulled her even closer when she pulled your clit between her lips as two fingers entered you and curled.

The sound of you spilling out and onto some random persons sheets caught your attention just as it did hers. Wanda marveled at the sight of your aromatic arousal that coated her fingers, palm, and dripped from her wrist, meanwhile you were shyly covering your face.

Wanda chuckled, "look at mommy detka, it's okay," her fingers gently tugged at your wrists and you peered up to find her slick, grinning face hovering above yours. "These are my sheets," the brunette added, then she chuckled as your eyes widened comically, you didn't know how she knew but you didn't care much as you had other things on your mind, like the sex you desperately wanted more of and, "you're in a sorority?"

The woman took no offense to the question, the bias of pink wearing, former cheerleading stars being the only ones to join the rush life was common. Most of the girls in the sisterhood she claimed didn't exactly look like Wanda, with her dark makeup, edgy clothes and lower arm sleeve tats, she couldn't really question the shock.

The conversation however was boring, the reason why being that her mom wanted her daughter to follow in her Delta footsteps and so the brunette did, because her parents sacrificed a lot to come here as teens. It was the least she could do, and even less interesting for her to reminisce over so she simply brushed by it as her fingers distracted you by collecting your slick.

"Such a loud, pretty thing you are," she teased as you gasped, her lithe fingers having swirled over your clit before they lifted to her already glistening lips, "I bet I'll have you moaning even louder, like a bitch in heat, with my cock pounding into your tight, needy hole."

Wanda admired the lust fueled darkness that swirled in your otherwise soft eyes. "Would you want that?"

"Of course," you blurted without shame, a smile of reassurance offered that led her right off of the bed.

When the brunette returned from her closet she was surprised to see you sat up, patiently waiting and keeping an eye out for her return. No words were spoken as you saw her skirt fall, eyes completely focused in on her glistening pussy that dripped slick down her gorgeous, muscular thighs. A chuckle pulled you from your thoughts, you slowly lifted your gaze and eyed your almost screen partner with a pout.

"If you're good," she began as she made her way to the foot of the bed, making a show as her voice dropped and her body slowly crawled toward you, "I'll let you get a taste." Wanda adored the way your eyes lit up, but she couldn't help but to tease you as her body pressed into yours. "Well, unless I fuck you too dumb."

"I w-want to," you admitted shyly, "to t-taste you."

"I know," she didn't spare you the embarrassment whatsoever as her thumb brushed over your chin, spreading the drool that was drying. "It's on your face."

The wink that followed made you tremble beneath her in a perfect display of desperation, just as she wanted. A devious smirk followed the pop of her thumb as she released it from her mouth; ironically your mouth ran dry. Wanda was about to ruin you in the best ways.

However, everything had happened so quickly up to now that she felt the urge to slowdown, in need of clarity, "Is this what you want? If I fill you with my cock that means you're mine now Y/N. Mine to fuck, cherish and if you'll let me, to fully fall in love with."

Unbridled lust still coursed through both of your veins, it was clear you wanted her to get moving by the way your hips twitched, but the soft tremble of your lip softened her into kissing you gently to ease the stress. Wanda saw the questions in your mind, and she'd answer them all, but for now she'd fuck them quiet.

Wanda had bought this strap just for you, actually. It was crimson red like her signature lipstick, thick like you'd never seen, and had a cum reservoir that she knew you'd love even if she'd never had the chance to ask you beforehand. The brunette could tell just by looking at you that you'd be a slut for a good filling.

"So," she prompted once she decided to spare your lungs from the fire burning inside. You nodded your head aggressively, words hard but doable when she pursed her lips; waiting. "Please, fuck me mommy."

"Gladly," she purred, rubbing the length of her strap against your slit to collect arousal as she peered into your eyes with a determined, possessive expression. Your hands reflexively curled and you felt emboldened the longer you held her gaze with an attempt to match the intensity of her, but you were once again nervous.

"C-can I touch?" Wanda nodded, offering you an encouraging smile as you timidly reached out to feel her up over her shirt, the tips of your fingers brushed over exposed skin and you appreciated how soft it was. Then you grew confident, fingers fisted at the collar of her shirt and tugged. "mommy, please take it off."

"I see even when impatient that my girl has manners," she chuckled softly at the sight of your beaming eyes, then she tossed her shirt across the room and leaned down to passionately press her lips to yours. Her body firmly pressed into yours, the brunette swallowed your mewl as her strap slipped into your hole just to parrot you as your once timid hands firmly groped her chest.

Once she got a grip of her thoughts she chuckled softly, sending a shiver through you as her lips had begun to trail down your jaw. "You like mommy's tits, hm?"

"I love them," you admitted with pure, genuine intent, hands continuing to knead at the flesh to distract yourself from the burning pain as she harshly worked to mark your skin in a slow, determined fashion. Then you continued softly, "I love everything about you," and she melted into the moment more, the teasing she had planned for you came to a stop as she filled you.

Wanda's hands slid beneath your arched back and pulled your front flush to hers, keeping your body as close to hers as she could while shallowly thrusting into your slippery cunt between your ragged breaths. Her lips gently brushed over the skin beneath your ear and she felt the way your body trembled, and reveled in the way you moaned so breathily when she sucked.

"You took me in so well," she purred, aware as your spine began to curve downward that the pleasure had simmered some, so she settled you back down and let her strap naturally slide from your cunt, leaving only the tip as she gazed into your needy eyes. Then her hips snapped and she grunted, "just like I thought."

No reply fell from your lips, at least not in the form of words as she'd set a ruthless pace that only left space for you to moan mindlessly as she harshly rutted her hips into yours. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, ending with your eyes as a harsh thumb swirled against your clit, her other hand gripped your hip even harder as your bodies sinfully moved in tandem. The chemistry was palpable in the air that reeked of sex and stale smoke that seeped beneath the dorm door.

Which only made it that much harder to breathe as you gasped so pitifully for air, the sensation overwhelmed you into a place of pleasurable uncertainty. The strap was a completely new experience for you, every toy you'd ever used was sleek but this one was outlined in thick, hyperrealistic veins that dug into your walls.

"Oh," a particularly harsh thrust and you were back to arching your back, and crying out, "feels so good." Your sweaty front briefly brushed against hers before your back returned to the mattress where its sole role was to move against the sheets as Wanda rutted harshly.

"You close honey?" Wanda knew already, she could feel the resistance as your walls squeezed around the toy, and even attempted to push it back out. What she truly wanted was to see where you were at mentally. You nodded weakly, mind too foggy to reply and she felt elated by your state. "Mommy is too, cum with me."

The rapid addition of her calloused thumb against your unhooded clit threw you over the edge alongside the brunette who had the gruff hilt to thank for hers. To watch your eyes grow hazier as they crossed once you got lost in pleasure stimulated her own climax too. Just hearing you moan had her teetering on the edge; Wanda was certain she didn't even need the friction...

Wanda began to lay gentle kisses to your warm skin as her thrusts continued, this time so slow you could feel every ridge dragging and subsequently shivered. You whimpered, "no more," hands weak, albeit firm as they pressed into the brunette who chuckled softly, "come on detka, you can do it, just one more for mommy."

"One," you warily agreed, and the brunette beamed, she paused her hips just to sprinkle some kisses onto your face in thanks. Her heart warmed as you giggled and her lips shifted closer to yours, eyes locked now that she was hovering directly. You both felt as your walls trembled around her strap, she smirked as your eyes closed in an attempt to calm your mind down.

"Open," she commanded and you reluctantly did, lips naturally pouting as you were forced to look into her intense eyes full of a love you saw already existed well before you two gave into this steadily building tension. It was a bit disconcerting but in a self-deprecating way, not in a grab your belongings and flee the state kind.

It was surely curious, but truthfully it was too hard to process much of anything with how her hips shallowly moved, they picked up the pace ever so slightly but Wanda wanted this orgasm to be more intimate, she wanted to foster in you the connection she's found.

Her intense gaze never wavered, and you never closed your eyes—maintaining the connection even if it felt like you were going to combust under it. Wanda's lips were parted in a half smirk as she took note of every little change in your reaction to the slowed down pace.

Before, you were moaning unabashedly and now you were panting and whimpering. The fingers that just left crescent marks in her shoulders and drew angry lines down her back now gripped onto the sheets for dear life because this pleasure was simply unlike before. Something about the connection blooming right before your very eyes was exhilarating; it was comforting.

"Mommy," you whined and stared up intently, eyes brimming with tears as you felt overwhelmed by it all.

"Yes, love?"

"C-can I?" Wanda nodded, accompanied by a sweet smile that crinkled the skin of her nose and eyes, it was genuine, intimate, and the reason why you squirted.

Well, that and the surprise of being filled as Wanda had squeezed the cum pump without any warning.

Wanda felt the same need you just satisfied burning deep within her as your body contorted and a shriek of unnerving pleasure left your lips. Rutting into you didn’t provide the same pleasure it did beforehand now that your walls were slick but too tight to fight against.

In a craze she pulled out and tossed the strap away, her thighs corralled yours and tensed as two of her fingers worked her over fast. You gazed up just in time to see her face wash over with pleasure, there was a look of betrayal on your face that amused the brunette. Her fingers left her core and slipped passed your lips before you could protest that your job was stolen from you.

“I said you could taste, just not how,” she reminded you, and you didn’t even feel a need to protest. Far too busy sucking her fingers clean and feeling the spark of a forming addiction—you needed to taste the source.

However, you were too tired tonight and Wanda saw that as she gazed down into your glistening eyes. It was better that way too as Wanda’s cunt continued to drip.

"Twice," Wanda teased as your slick too dripped down her legs, “you are filthy; squirting on mommy’s bed.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled but she wasn’t sure you even knew what you were saying as your eyelids fluttered.

While you slipped in and out of sleep Wanda began to get a bath set up for you both, in one of the only en-suite’s this house has—perks of the house mom being your real mom’s best friend. Your soft snores amused her as they traveled through the crack in the door, into a steamy room decorated with rose petals and flames.

Truthfully, beneath the deceiving layers of grunge she wore with a resting scowl was a woman who genuinely believed in the sappy love stories that Hollywood sells. Wanda wasn’t a one trick pony, she heavily negated the societal need to keep interests separate. In public she kept her image intimidating, unintentionally she did it with you too, but now she’s ready for you to see all of her and with that you deserved her sappy humanity.

Wanda returned to the room once she deemed the tub was ready for you both, but she paused—allowing more steam to fill the space you’d soon occupy, just so she could admire your nude form beneath the moonlight. A smile bloomed as she caught sight of the marks she left behind, some too deep and noticeable for you to hide.

The woman felt prideful as she approached, but her resolve softened the closer she got as you looked so peaceful surrounded by her stained, mussed bedsheets. Currently, all she truly wanted was to hold you close.

You woke up with the gentle jolt of your body, made as Wanda lifted you up and into her chest, not forgoing a kiss to your temple that made you melt into her. A whine of protest followed seconds later as she placed you right onto the cooled toilet. In contrast, your body naturally reacted as it too sought relief, filling the toilet with the remnants of your passionate night together.

Wanda had slipped away again, but you were too tired to note her initial absence. When she returned, fresh pajamas in hand, you whined angrily. It was adorable, the way you reached for her and glared, as if she’d abandoned you, your intimidation tactic failed.

Wanda softly spoke, “Are you ready to bathe love?”

You shook your head and frowned, a bit embarrassed to ask for help but fortunately Wanda was in tune with you as she reached for the toilet paper and wiped. It was quick and she got you into the warm tub before you could overthink the moment. Successfully too as you melted into her front as the warmth soothed your aching muscles and fogged your mind up with peace.

There was no rush to her movements as she cleaned the both of you—if either of you had plans tomorrow it was fair to assume them canceled now. Wanda wasn’t ready to part ways and she knew you would likely be in the same state—if not more so after tonight’s drop.

Once the water began to chill, effectively making you shiver, she got you awake and out of the tub quickly. Wanda adored the way you clung to her, only parting when she persisted so she could get you two dressed.

“Brush your teeth,” she gently commanded, then with you distracted she returned to her room to place the freshly laundered sheets onto her mattress. Then she slid into a harness that made your eyes widen as you rushed out of the bathroom to find her. The muddled space you were in faded as you were unsure of her intentions, you even took a conscious step back once she began to approach but you quickly met the wall.

“Don’t be afraid,” she teased you—with the wide eyes and hesitant smile. “I was gonna ask, do you think it would be okay if mommy slept with her cock in you?”

Wanda’s arm was quick to wrap around your waist, holding you up as your knees proved useless, you felt her nose nudge into your jaw as her lips left warm kisses over the marks you’d yet to see on your neck. Even with as sensitive as you knew your pussy to be you gave in without any fight at all as you pleaded.

With a gentle hand Wanda slid the strap against your pussy until enough lubrication had manifested. Then she settled onto her mattress before guiding you over and slowly inserting herself back into you until there was no space left to fill. You pressed your lips to hers desperately, looking for a bit of comfort as you adjusted. A slow, passionate lip lock ensued until you felt the pain subside and the exhaustion return.

The Sokovian eased onto her back, gentle as she pulled your body down with hers to keep you comfortable. A blanket soon covered you both and you smiled as you tiredly remembered the night’s events—her intense eye contact that should’ve terrified you but it truly didn’t.

"I can't wait to fall in love with you," you admitted against her chest in your state of post-sex delirium and it brought a smile to the perceivably tough woman. It was too early, Wanda knew that, but the brunette had loved you for ages and now she is patiently waiting for you to return the sentiment. "ya uzhe lyublyu tebya."

(I already love you)

————

Bonus:

"Oh no," Natasha mumbled to her girlfriend, eyes catching sight of the random blonde that corralled you against the table. "Poor girl, she's not going to survive."

Maria humored her girlfriend by gazing up just in time to see a fuming Wanda storming over to you both.

"Which one?" Natasha chuckled and pecked her lovers lips, "both—but one will for sure be more pleasurable."

"You're a menace." Natasha smirked, "Oh, I know..."

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

~

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

[ffiahh]

PROJECT PLUTO

Protect and Serve.

Sevika did her duty as knight, a bit too well, perhaps.

Pairings: Knight!Top!Dom!Sevika x Lady!Bottom!Feminine!Fem! Reader

Content Warning: Swearing, unwanted/forced marriage, mention of kidnapping, mention of death, slight description of food, jealously, slight description of blood, attempted assassination. SMUT WARNING: Degradation, dirty talk, size kink (kind of), cocks were mentioned (not real), jealously, scratching/marking, spanking, choking, mentions of overstimulation, biting.

Word Count: 5.7K

☾*:･ﾟ✧. Finally, a full Sevika fic!! Only took nearly a year, pft. As of writing this, I don't really know how to feel about it; I like some bits, but other sections I keep rewriting and it doesn't seem to get better; it feels very rushed. I was going to add hatred toward men in the content warnings, but, you know. This is a chance for me to introduce Angie, if she's popular enough I may write a piece of just her only. (She ATE). If you squint real hard, there's suggestive implications between Reader and Angie. Angie is queen, because I say so. Reader is also a whore, and not shy about it.

SEVIKA only knew two things. To protect and serve. So, when she saw you; in all your gracefulness and powerful elegancy; she did what she knew; protect and serve. Sevika took her job as royal knight seriously, so it was no surprise when the Queen gave her an even better task. She took an oath to protect you; and she did so diligently. Sevika was always there; a stealthy frame lurking around your sweet figure, towering over you as a means to make your presence a little more intimidating. She’d be there when you spend your time in the gardens; she would take stance outside your bedchambers; she would be there for any gown fitting you would attend; and she most certainly didn’t miss any meetings with your potential suitors. Sevika was there when the Council and your parents forced you to marry a man for the ruse of political power. Sevika was everywhere, and you couldn’t complain.

Sevika was standing dutifully by the Queen when she first caught sight of you at a ball. And so, her dark, broody presence simmered down just slightly once she caught sight of your glittering form through the crowd. Her eyes never left you; the way your body danced across the floor, you looked like a ghost with the brightness of your dress and the sparkles in your hair. She admired the way your hair danced alongside you, the way your dress waved and billowed after you. She admired you the way she admired the art of skilful fighting. Sevika stared at you so much; her eyes almost teared up with her subtle wide-eyed stare, so much so she could only hope that the Queen didn’t catch on.

It was no shock for Sevika to see the Queen choosing you as her favourite; you were soft and short, with a bright face and mellow features. The Queen, however was a force to be reckoned with, sharp, angular; standing with an impassive face and an impressive build that even shocked Sevika at first. There are many rumours about the Queen; rumours that paint her as the Devil straight from the Bible; cruel, vicious. Yet, you seemed to hold a certain grace, a softness. It seemed rather odd for you to mingle so closely with the likes of the Queen. You were a pleasant surprise for Sevika and getting a glimpse of you for the first time; was getting the wonderful news of protecting you.

“I request you to protect Lady Estelle’s heiress.” Sevika turned to see Angeliki looking over the ballroom with her steely blue eyes, she looked calm; her breathing was steady, her body looked lax. Sevika knew her boss well enough to understand that moments like these kept Angeliki on edge; her eyes would never stay at one place, she bristled just the smallest amount when a Lady or Duke approached her but most of all; her stature bristled when she saw you interact with another. Angeliki hated it here, yet she stayed for you. Angeliki swallowed thickly. “She is fragile, and I am worried I am not doing enough to protect her.”

Sevika just tipped her head in response, choosing not to say anything. Angeliki knew Sevika wasn’t one for reassuring words, and Angeliki understood that. In the short few years Sevika worked for the Queen; they both found a sense of respect for each other. They both had an unattainable strength and power, and maybe the ability of attracting sweet, pretty things.

You weren’t very shy when your mother introduced you to Sevika, you still felt the thrill of dancing, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. You were out of breath, but Sevika’s presence tore it out of you; like inhaling hot steam. Sevika was every bit of tall, dark and handsome. She had a presence that made your knees knock, and your eyes flutter. It felt like déjà vu, because you remembered the way you nearly tripped on the steps when you were first introduced to the Queen. It seemed as though you were naturally drawn to women that enjoyed exuding their power.

You weren’t ashamed to seduce Sevika, that same night in fact. Your heart and your core stuttered at the realisation that Sevika was to be your personal knight. You were ecstatic. Just like you were ecstatic to found out the Queen took a liking to you.

You just battered your eyes at her, as you gracefully leaned against the doorframe of your bedchambers. “Could you perhaps… help me with my corset? It’s terribly tight, and we-” You just let out a small, quiet laugh. You stared at Sevika from the corner of your eye, your gaze turning to one of doe-eyed innocence when Sevika caught your subtle stare. “It’s quite embarrassing, really. I told my dresser to not tighten it too much, but-”

Sevika just stared at you, her eyes boring into you soft figure, the way your back arched softly, just pushing the soft mountains of your breasts against the doorframe; she knew not to let her face contort to compliment her feelings, so she stared at you blankly as you rambled. She was admiring you, enjoying the way the corset hugged your curves beautifully, the small intricate beads that fell around the curve of your shoulders. Sevika liked looking at you, she realised. She just merely let the corner of her mouth curl, before she gestures dismissively for you to turn. Sevika caught wind of what you were doing, seeing as your corset strings were already halfway done.

Sevika let out a low chuckle, shaking her head before her fingers took a strong hold of your laces, not wasting another moment to push you into your bedchambers. If it weren’t for the strong hold Sevika had on your laces; you would have stumbled and fell but you could feel your stomach and chest pressing inwards as the corset tightened slightly from Sevika’s heavy tug on your strings. You could feel the cold touch of her metal fingers dragging along your thigh, the soft material of your skirt curling around her metal wrist, while her other hand – which oddly enough – was cold as well; shamelessly tucked themselves away into your undergarments, smirking when there already seemed to a puddle on her fingertips.

“Didn’t take a Lady to be such a whore.”

Your mother was adamant that you marry; you tried to protest but that seemed to speed up the process and before you could even catch your breath; you were already taken to a first meeting with your would-be husband. By the end of the week, Lady Estelle announced the news of your marriage to Angeliki. Nobody knew what the Queen wore on her face, she merely sat on her throne; barely sparing a glance at Lady Estelle before you felt your body straighten when Angeliki turned to you.

“This was your choice?” Angeliki spoke; her voice was steady and calm, but it echoed throughout the throne room. Sevika could see the guards straighten in alarm at the sound of her voice, fumbling to tighten their hold on their weapons or subtly straighten their uniform.  

No, not really. You nodded, dipping your head in a slight tilt. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

You were meant to marry your husband; but your eyes kept drifting to the dark figure looming in the corner of the church. Sevika was meant to be working, making sure to keep you safe on such an important day; but her dark eyes always found you; the tightly bound, pink flowers in your hand; the delicate veil as it fell around your face. You were sparkling, you would have been beaming; if not for the hideous truth that you never wanted this marriage. How could Sevika protect you from any danger when it was standing right next to you?

The church held the same air well; thick and potent, maybe it was the eerie silence that followed the end of the organ playing when you stepped on the altar, or it might have been the way Angeliki wouldn’t keep her steely glare off of Lady Estelle. Sevika could feel it from her post, the way her broad shoulders were drawn back, the muscles in her back tightening the more and more officiant rambled on. Sevika felt sorry for the Queen’s advisor; who in her small stature; did everything she could to avoid Angeliki and her cold gaze.

You felt it as well, the officiator may have been the one talking, but you could feel and hear the steady, eery breathing of the Queen behind you; for you it felt as though her body expanded and hunched, almost creating a looming shadow and presence over your smaller stature. Oh, what eery eyes you have.   

Sevika was also there at the night of your wedding, standing outside your bedchambers due diligently before any and all sense flew from her head, and not long after; it wasn’t your husband who consummated your marriage; it was her. You had quietly requested that you keep your husband out of your room, and Sevika obliged. She was admiring the way you gracefully undressed to your bridal negligee. It looked stunning on you; the soft fabric settled wonderfully on your curves. Sevika couldn’t keep her hands off you.

“You taste wonderful, My Lady.” You could hardly get a word out when Sevika shamelessly dove back in between your thighs; the tip of her large nose nudging against your swollen clit. You let out a quiet whimper; your thighs trembling in her large hands, when Sevika hummed; the sound so low; it heard and felt like a growl. “And you look absolutely stunning. Like a fairy.”

You tipped your head back, a low breathy moan slipping from your mouth; you squirmed when Sevika pressed herself further into you; the ravenous, needy shake of her head causing her hair to tickle your glittering thighs as another low grunt fell past her mouth. You didn’t hear it, you felt it; the sound vibrating through your core.    

Sevika’s eyes ran over your trembling form; soft and delicate. She could see the way your nipples perked through the thin material of your negligee; she loved watching the way the nightgown tightened and hugged your curves. You were sparkling; a soft sheen of sweat along your skin; the glitter of your makeup; dotted across your face. It certainly didn’t help that your nightgown was adorned with sequins and beads, it looked like a shining puddle around your body. You looked every bit of the beautiful bride you were, soft, angelic, twinkling. You were all hers. All of you. Sevika felt a rush of pride at that thought; you married a man, yet you were here; your body open for her.

“Your lousy fucking husband couldn’t do this, could he?” Sevika asks, her dark lips curled in a vicious smirk. Sevika rose up to her full height, the creases of her large palm running over the expanse of your thighs, her thick fingers tightening around the delicate curve of your ankle; her thumb absentmindedly caressing the divot on the heel of your foot. You were too much in a drunken, pleasured haze, you didn’t realise Sevika’s fingers sneaking toward your entrance. “Fuck you like this?”

“I hope you don’t keep using crude language during our most intimate moments,” you scolded, a gasped moan escaping your mouth when Sevika’s thick finger pushed past your ring of muscle, jolting at the delicious burn.

A shiver ran through your body when Sevika chuckled, the dark sound rumbling from her chest and vibrating through her powerful body. “Apologies, my Lady.” Sevika rumbles, sliding the length of her fingers along your inner walls, marvelling at the sight of your entrance greedily taking her thick, calloused digits. Sevika leaned forward to taste the soft skin of your nape, sucking gently; it was almost as if she could taste the sweetness from your perfume, settling on her tongue like a thin mist; you tasted like vanilla and raspberry.

You muffled in a moan, sucking in your bottom lip when Sevika’s mouth wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking harshly until spit ran down the crevice of your breasts and down Sevika’s chin. You cried out when her teeth pulled and nicked your nipple, letting it stretch before letting go with an audible pop.  You couldn’t help but flush when you felt the dark, heavy gaze from Sevika’s piercing eyes trace over the curves of your writhing body, a moan catching in your throat when her fingers picked up speed.

“Do you know how pretty you look? Laying like that? With you being so greedy, so greedy. You want more of my fingers, needy girl?” Sevika ground out, the dresser creaking dangerously under her thrusts. “My cock?” Sevika offered, her dark eyebrow arched before she smirked with a light scoff, seeing the way you slightly lifted your hips, a strangled sigh falling past your mouth. “Such a slut. Is that what you want? My cock filling your pussy and stretching you out?”

You cried out, your head falling backwards onto the mirror behind you. You could feel your nails almost break and peel as you clawed at the wood under you, the same way Sevika’s nails dug into your soft skin, keeping you to stay splayed out for her leisure. It was a delicious pain, it made your skin chill with pleasure, goosebumps trailing your skin. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you felt the familiar hold around your throat; Sevika easily guiding you to stand in front of her.

You felt and looked small against Sevika, you realised. You saw the way the rolls on your body almost wilted under Sevika’s wandering hands, your skin was tugged and pulled, the enticing curves of your breasts almost melting into Sevika’s metal palm, the thin barely-there negligee melted against your skin, before Sevika pulled off your body with a disgruntled mumble. Sevika seemed to enjoy it; the way your belly seemed to lift from the strength of her hand and fall with an inviting jiggle. For Sevika, it felt as though she was moulding putty in her hands, soft and inviting and so, so irresistible.

You gasped, your back arching as Sevika dove down; sucking your nipple into her hungry mouth, before trailing her mouth down the underside of your breast. Sevika was aching for a part of you, any part of you, grunting and groaning as she opened her mouth further around your breast. Sevika didn’t let go of your breast for a while, the large curve of her nose resting flush against the underside of your breast. Sevika’s skin was warm, and the tip of her nose was hard; digging into the doughy flesh and skimming across the soft skin.

Sevika’s hand was large as well, the palm heavy as it struck your core; her thick fingers eagerly and quickly finding its way through your folds and in your squelching cunt. It covered your cunt entirely; you could barely see the way your puffy lips wrapped around her fingers, and the way they rolled. Her prosthetic arm was much larger, the metal claws creeping around the curve of your belly before snatching up your disregarded breast, squeezing the tissue.

Sevika urgently ran her mouth up your arm, along the curve of your shoulder, over the pulse points on your neck, delivering half sent kisses on your skin as if she only had a few moments with you. “You are like ice cream. I’ve never fucked someone so soft,” Sevika whispered under your jaw, breathing your scent in deeply before wrapping her lips around your chin. “Look at the way you’re melting in my hands.”

It was embarrassing that Sevika was right; you couldn’t help but buck your hips into Sevika’s hands, letting out a breathy huff when her fingers– for whatever reason – wouldn’t reach the fleshy sponge nestled deep below your belly button. Yes, your skin may as well be considered a sort of dough, or ice cream; the fat in your breasts pooled and sunk through the spaces of Sevika’s metal fingers and over the bones and structure of her cool forearm. Yes, Sevika was right. And, yes, you enjoyed the way Sevika took your body and mind, and completely fucked out any thought from you.  

“Bend over,” Sevika’s voice was gruff, desperate, and your gasp that followed was pathetic and rushed, because in a quick moment you found yourself arched over your makeup vanity. The soft globes of your breasts were moulded and shifted to press against the hardwood, and you could feel the way your belly stretched to rest on the surface without pulling your skin too much.       

You squirmed, the rough curves and joints of Sevika’s metal fingers scarping across the slopes of your ass, before you let out a hushed gasp when Sevika’s claws dug into your skin, enough to cause a shiver to run through you. “I saw the way you looked at the Queen today. Did you want her cock as well?”

You couldn’t answer, because Sevika’s pointed claws were trailing across your slit. Sevika laughed, her brows drawing in at the amount of slick that painted her bronze fingers, she had half the mind to fuck you with your mechanical hand, but that meant the chance of internal injuries. You felt the vanity creak a little under your weight when Sevika grabbed a fistful of your ass, the metal of her fingers just barely piercing the skin; she didn’t give you a chance to react before you felt the familiar round tip of Sevika’s cock pushing past the ring of muscle.

You tried to squirm, but jumped and gasped when Sevika’s fleshed palm struck your ass, the sound thundering through the otherwise quiet room. You felt the vanity creak again when Sevika pulled your ass apart, revealing your puffy, wet lips. Sevika hummed, low and throaty when she moved her hips slowly, ogling as your lips dragged across the silicone shaft. She could almost feel it, the way your pussy sucked her in, the way it pulsed and quivered as though you were going to cum.

You had nothing to hold onto, your nails scratched against the grooves of the wood, moaning against the dark, red surface and before you could comprehend; your hands flew out to catch the mirror. Sevika’s was always rough, but today – you gasped again, a strangled moan lodged deep within your throat; the silicone cock nestled so snugly, you had no way of escaping. Every roll of your hip, an arch of your back or the way you tried to squeeze your thighs; urged Sevika on more.

You squirmed again and Sevika cupped your waist tightly, using your writhing, pathetic body as leverage to slide into you deeper. The second time you squirmed, and you felt the beautiful, suffocating weight of Sevika’s hand on your back; though it did little to keep you still. The third time and her patience was waning; the wooden surface shook and almost splintered when Sevika smacked her palms against the vanity; from the corner of your tearful, hazy eyes, Sevika’s claws were cutting through the paint, soon enough the wood would start to chip away.      

You cried out, biting your lip in effort to keep your sounds muffled. Sevika didn’t bother to; huffs and grunts falling past her mouth over you. At this point the mirror was hitting the wall, and the legs were creaking, the drawers were threatening to open as they clanked and rattled. Were you about to fall? Maybe. Did you care? No. Definitely not. Your vision blurred and your thighs trembled from the onslaught of Sevika’s angry thrusts, and the pleasure that sizzled through you. “Vika-”  

“Stop talking. Going to fuck you until your legs give out.” Sevika rasped out, her hips slapping against your reddening ass. You were too far in your daze to realise that Sevika shifted, the vanity creaking with her change in position. You breathed out a low, pleasured laugh, blinking your eyes; feeling the familiar tightness around your throat. Sevika’s metal hand had warmed up at this point, so it didn’t startle you when she held you firmly under your jaw; somehow keeping your body arched and poised.

Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap.

Breathing was difficult now, your heart raced, and your pulse along your neck followed, thumping wildly. You groaned; the sound garbled, whiny and Sevika would have felt it vibrate through her hand, but her metal fingers were incapable of feeling anything. Sevika could hear it though, and see it; the way your eyes fluttered shut and the way your arousal seemed to drip down your thighs. Sevika seemed to go faster once she held you by your throat, the sound of squelching between your legs so loud.

It was humiliating that your orgasm came quickly; you hadn’t realised it until you felt some sort of dam breaking inside of you, causing you to writhe and pant, before you lifted yourself off the vanity, clawing blindly at Sevika’s thigh, feeling the muscles roll and tense as Sevika continued her thrusts. “Keep cumming on my cock. Fuck, you’re such a slut.” Sevika gritted out in your ear, her voice low and throaty, her hands were persistent, her fingers finding their way back to your hips, squeezing the skin, pulling and tugging almost off your bones. You cried out, your fingers clenching the edge of the vanity, your legs – which now were resting on the warm wooden surface – shuddered; goosebumps dusting your skin, and weirdly enough, the pleasure simmering slightly, creeping back up the more Sevika pummelled into you. “We’re going to do this again and you’re going to lay there and take it, you hear me?”

“I do not like your husband.” Angeliki states; her broad arm resting against the back of her chair. She was almost slouching; her legs spread out; the button of her shirt nearly popping and giving you an enticing view of the curves of her breasts. Table etiquette for her was long forgotten; as the Queen she had other pressing matters to stress over. You told her it was because people were far too intimidated to tell her off, but Angeliki believed it was because people were too tired to.

You just smiled sadly at her, buttering a small piece of bread. You delicately take a bite out of it; chewing slowly and swallowing it before you replied. “I don’t want you to feel bad, Your Grace. It’s the Council’s-”

“Yes. Who are they to tell me what I can and cannot do? They have no right.” Angeliki replies. “I will your end marriage. Believe me.” Angeliki’s nose twitches, as though she wanted to curl it in disgust, before her eyes drop to her small cup.

“And how are you going to do that, Your Grace?” You tried to keep your movements minimal, your back still ached, your throat burned slightly, your muscles felt tense and – to put it crudely – your pussy was still sore. You take another bite of your bread, swallowing and lightly grazing your neck, sending a quick glance to Sevika. You squirmed in your seat, wiping the corner of your mouth with your napkin. Angeliki’s stare had always been cold, calculating; it seemed as though she was analysing every bit of your soul and body, but today felt more meticulous. Maybe it was because you wore the guilt of warming the bed of your personal guard, or the fact that you didn’t warm hers last night.

“I suppose a shovel. People have told me I have a very heavy hand; one hit may be enough.”

You wait for her to monotonously tell you it was a joke, but the Queen seems too preoccupied with trying to use a dainty, demitasse spoon in her large fingers. “Your Grace. This may seem out of hand for what I am about to say, but you can’t kill my husband!” You exclaim in a hushed manner, sending a nervous smile to a castle worker who started to clear the table.

“Why not? He is a man.” Angeliki gives the spoon a look of contempt, before she reaches for a larger soup spoon. “All men are good for is to beat and fuck. You cannot do or will do neither to him. So, naturally he must go. Sevika agrees with me, no?”

You sneak a glance at Sevika; who is standing quietly by the wall; you wondered how she kept a straight face in this argument. Sevika merely tips her head; the corners of her mouth curled. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“See?” You don’t argue, knowing the Queen; it was like talking to a wall sometimes, tall, and stubborn. Angeliki carries on, taking a large gulp of her coffee, humming once. “Men are useless. They have horrid temperament, a fragile ego. They are pathetic, ingrates. Why do you think whoever works closely to me are women?”

You let a sigh, folding your hands in your lap. You can feel Sevika’s presence behind you; it was heavy and dark. It almost feels as though she’s closing in on your back. Like last night; when she fucked you in front of the mirror. “Surely, there must be another way.”

“Kidnapping? Your husband is small and dainty, so I can easily drag him or carry him over my shoulder.” Angeliki suggests, she turns to Sevika. “Kidnapping, no?”

Sevika tips her head again, this time her mouth curled further in amusement. “I suppose that is a better idea.”

Angeliki nods approvingly, a low grunt escaping her throat as she reaches up to flick back her short hair, only to find it in the same place by her ears; she didn’t try to fix it again. “I knew I did right by hiring you. A fine choice.”

You shake your head, leaning back on your chair. “You both are impossible. My husband is a Duke, he is in politics-”

“That is why he married into your family?” Angeliki asks, her confused gaze on the small crumpets, turning it over and over in her hands as if to make sure the crumpets were actually that small. Shaking her head as she reaches over to pile more on her plate. “He is not important enough, if he married you for a better title.”

You stay quiet, focusing on finishing the piece of bread that suddenly felt too thick and dry to travel down your throat, you held it between your fingers, squeezing the bread until it melded back into a dough. “I suppose…”

Angeliki hummed, nodding once at your agreement, she swallowed the last of her food, washing it down with a glass of water. “Stay close to me or Sevika for the ball tonight. Your husband has been skittish lately, I do not want you to get hurt.”

You didn’t normally listen when either the Queen or Sevika told you to do something, you liked to see the way their muscles would hunch at the realisation, or the way their eyebrows would draw in slightly. It was fun, and it always ended up with you satisfied one way or the other by the end of the night.

Yet, you were glad you listened today, the tension between your small circle was palpable. You felt it, it made your muscles tense, and your teeth grind. You didn’t give yourself the luxury at ogling at either women’s outfits. You only caught a glimpse of Angeliki’s golden and black suit and the intricate flower patterns on the bronze metal of Sevika’s uniform.

Angeliki drew her shoulders in when your husband approached your table, bowing deeply and dutifully to Angeliki; at that sight: Sevika straightened up, her hand tight around the hilt of her sword. You smiled lightly at him, forcing away the habit of squirming away from him when he leaned in for a performative, polite kiss on the cheek. He wouldn’t dare do anything more in Angeliki’s presence, or Sevika’s for that matter.

Your husband didn’t take a seat until Angeliki gestured toward the chair with a simple gaze toward it. Though the music was playing softly from the corner of the ballroom, it was quiet, you could hear the lazy, calm breathing of the Queen, and the pitiable, panicking breathing of your husband. Sevika shuffled behind you, a slight clearing of her throat as the bronze metal of her uniform clinked against each other. Quiet. Dead silence.

Your husband laughed, the sound rushed and garbled as he swallowed thickly, he waved down a waiter, his smile widening as the waiter closed in on their table, dutifully placing glasses of chilled water in front of each of them. You flickered your eyes to it, it was lemon water, judging by some curled rind sunk at the bottom and a lemon wedge hugging the lip of the glass. “U- ch-chilled lemon water, Your Majesty.”

You were right, but you raised a subtle eyebrow at your husband. He was acting skittish, his eyes kept darting to the glass and back up at Angeliki, he was barely sitting in his seat, his chest pressed so close to the table, you could see the tablecloth sag under his weight.

Angeliki’s gaze was as piercing as ever; the icy circles of her eyes trailing lazily across your husband’s form. She reaches for the glass, her fingers wrapping around it and lifting it slowly to her mouth. Angeliki hums, her stony orbs rising to meet the man across her, blinking once, twice before placing the glass back on the table.

Angeliki arose from her seat, her suit crinkling before she uses her large hands to smooth down the silk velvet fabric. “Follow me.” Angeliki didn’t wait for an answer, or a refusal as she steps down from the table, her large form stalking to the exit of the ballroom. Your husband’s eyes widened slightly, but he scrambled to his full height, smoothing down his own suit before rushing down the steps to follow Angeliki. Sevika followed closely behind, her bulky form closing in on your husband from behind. You stood up as well, your glossed lips slightly apart as you rushed after them. What was going on?

You caught up to them after a few moments, it would have been quicker if not for the sheer weight of your dress. You stood by the doorframe, feeling your body jolt at the chilly night air. You saw Angeliki shrug off her suit jacket; your breath hitching at the way her muscles rolled as she handed the jacket to Sevika. Sevika wasted no moment to douse you in it, ensuring it covered your cold chest and arms, before standing stoically by your side. It was quiet here as well, the only rustle of Angeliki’s sleeves rolling up her forearms and the nervous splutter from your husband.

“Men are always stupid,” Angeliki states simply, her large forearms tensing as she sought herself comfortable, her steps were quiet, heavy as they trailed to your husband. “Poison? In my drink? It seems as though you were arrogant as well, considering you thought I would accept a drink from you.” You tensed, a soft gasp falling from your mouth, when Angeliki snapped her hand forward; her thick, burly fingers seizing around the man’s jaw, squeezing tightly until his lips puckered and his cheeks filled out.

Your husband clawed at Angeliki’s hand, trying his hardest to pull her fingers away, but it only made her hold on, shaking his head as if to scold him. You jumped when he cried out, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as he shook and writhed in Angeliki’s grip, before your eyes snapped to Angeliki when a sickening crack echoed through, and a shrill, panicked cry from your husband.

Angeliki merely blinked, her eyes averting to each of his eyes before they fell to his throat, it was starting to get pink, veins protruding from his skin as he struggled. Your husband managed to carve a few scratches into Angeliki’s skin, and soon enough had grasped enough of her forearm to pull her away. You heart thundered and sunk in your chest when your husband lurched his head forward with a determined cry, suddenly finding courage and smiling lopsidedly in triumphant when Angeliki’s head snapped back, a trickle of blood running from her nose and down her lip.

Angeliki sniffed, her lips curling in a snarl before her head knocked forward in retaliation, once, twice; before spitting the red, almost gelatinous blood onto his face, sending a swift, heavy punch to his throat. Your husband cried out, falling back against the grass as he choked on his blood. Angeliki loomed over him, the muscles under her shirt tensing, letting the weight of her shoe and body press into his groin, pressing harder when your husband flinched. “Do not come near me again, lest I pull the skin from your pathetic body and force you to feed on it. Sevika.” Angeliki commanded, standing to her full height and walking toward you.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide as they zeroed in on Angeliki, her height allowing her to tower over you. You let your eyes run over Angeliki, over her chest that rose and fell, over the way fabric squeezed along her broad shoulders, the deep, angry scratches on her rough forearm and hand, before your eyes snapped to Sevika. “She will not kill him. Merely warn him. He will do well to leave you alone as well.”

You wished you could see Sevika’s body under her uniform, you wanted to see the way her back rippled as she delivered punches toward your husband, the way her abs would tense. You felt foolish, gaping at the two women; you shouldn’t but you did. There was a tight coil in your lower belly, one that threatened to snap once Sevika rose to her full height, her armour clinking as she panted, before your eyes travelled back to Angeliki; who was already staring at you, before she nodded toward the ballroom, urging you forward.

Of course, you obeyed, especially if you were going to feel the prepotent presence of the women behind you.