#sacrifice she made for my future | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

planetaryupscaled · 4 months ago

Text

Just Roommates

Male OC x Ryujin

Tags: 30k, smut, cheating, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just get our own place,” muttered Ryujin, gazing scornfully at the stack of lease renewal papers scattered atop the kitchen counter.

She loathed the idea of her and her boyfriend, Tae, signing away an additional year of their lives in the apartment they shared with his buddy from college.

“You know I can’t stand being around that arrogant piece of shit anymore...”

“I know you don’t like him, but Junho is my best friend, and it’s just unrealistic for us to try and afford a place on our own right now, babe,” Tae replied. “Just one more year. By then we should have enough saved up to move out on our own, and you’ll have your degree. We just have to make this small sacrifice for our future, and besides, I know you’ll warm up to him if you give him a chance,” he added.

“I seriously doubt that,” Ryujin said through her frown.

Her boyfriend’s logic was sound though, and she couldn’t deny it was the sensible choice. She had moved in with the two men only a month prior, and she and Tae were barely earning enough to afford the shared living space they currently had. An additional year of hardship would end with her finally achieving her bachelor’s degree, at which point she could start her career and be stable enough to gain more independence.

Tae studied Ryujin as she contemplated his reasoning. He handed her a pen, and to his relief, she took it and began adding her signature to the many pages.

“Thanks, babe. I know it’s not ideal, but I really appreciate your understanding.”

“Yeah, yeah... But we should really establish some new rules around here. I’m getting sick and tired of Junho bringing random sluts’ home and disturbing our peace.” Ryujin took the opportunity to try and gain a little more control in the household.

Junho treated the place like he owned it, and Tae always turned a blind eye, allowing his friend to walk all over him. It was one of several reasons why Ryujin despised living with their roommate.

“That’s fair... I’ll talk to him,” Tae responded, now adding his signature to the document. He didn’t enjoy the thought of confronting Junho about his habits, and secretly wished his girlfriend was a little more easy-going.

Just then, the apartment door swung open, and Junho strolled in with his usual confident gait and cocky smile.

“Hey, roomies!”

His eyes fell to the freshly inked lease agreement. “Oooh, so we made up our minds, did we?” The tall, well-dressed man shuffled in between the couple and picked up the pen to seal the deal. Ryujin had to stop herself from ripping up the papers on the spot.

“Yup. One more year together,” Tae answered, grinning.

“Well this calls for a drink, doesn’t it?” Junho announced rhetorically, trading glances with each of them as he added his name to the many pages. Tae grabbed a bottle of vodka and some glasses, and poured the three of them a shot.

After filling in the last blank, and slamming the pen down, Junho raised his glass. “To another fun year!” The trio drank their shots, one more reluctantly than the others, and Junho continued speaking. “I mean, I could afford this place on my own, but it’s way more fun having you guys around! Plus we all save a ton of cash this way.”

Ryujin visibly grimaced. The man’s arrogance never failed to disgust her. “Before you get too carried away, I think we should discuss some things,” she said.

Both men turned to her, Tae looking nervous. “I think you should treat Tae and I with a little more respect. We live here too, and it’s not fair that you’re constantly coming home really late with different women, not giving us a heads up, and then being... unreasonably loud all night.”

Junho remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly letting her words sink in. Ryujin had the brief thought that perhaps she had finally gotten through to him, until he spoke.

“Jealous much?” He said sarcastically, laughing.

She crossed her arms, fuming, and he added, “C’mon... I’m just kidding. Ryujin. I get it. I’ll be better about that. I promise.”

Junho extended his hand towards her and she rolled her eyes, but shook his hand anyway. Before releasing her from his firm grip, he murmured under his breath, “I’d rather take your sexy ass to bed any night of the week...”

Ryujin recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. “You’re a fucking asshole!” She raised her eyebrows at Tae, suggesting he had better defend her in some way.

“I’m sure he’s just kidding around...” The boyfriend muttered.

“Of course I’m joking!” Junho bellowed. “I would never, ever, try to steal you from Tae here,” he said condescendingly, wrapping a muscled arm around his smaller friend and jostling him around.

“If you were single though-” Ryujin’s icy glare interrupted him. “I’m just saying you’re a catch, okay? Learn to take a compliment!”

“I’d prefer if you never complimented me again! I don’t want any of that from you,” she explained sternly. Junho’s crude comments highlighted another major reason she disliked him. He was always stealing suggestive looks at her, and making inappropriate remarks about her appearance. She felt as if he regarded her as nothing more than a sexual object. Whenever she brought it up to her boyfriend, he would minimize it, making excuses that his friend was just playing around, and that it was just his sense of humor.

“Alright, sheesh. Sorry...” Junho apologized with a hint of sarcasm.

The trio spent the rest of the night in relative peace, sipping drinks and discussing their days at work. Ryujin felt a mild sense of relief that she had at least confronted her unwanted roommate and finally spoken up for herself. Still, she knew that there was a long year ahead of her.

—

A few weeks later, Ryujin was finishing up an assignment on her laptop when a distressed looking Tae suddenly came home, far earlier than usual. “Everything okay, babe?” She asked worriedly, noticing he was carrying a large cardboard box.

“Fuck... I... Just got fired...” He replied, avoiding eye contact and dropping the container onto the kitchen counter.

“What!? Why?” Ryujin shoved her laptop to the side and rushed over to him.

Tae sighed heavily and began to explain, “I... It’s so fucking stupid... I backed up some sensitive documents on my personal drive so I could work on them here one night, and apparently that violates some confidentiality policy. I guess they scanned all the computers in the office looking for that sort of thing. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen... HR just called me into an office and told me they had no choice but to let me go.”

Ryujin didn’t know what to say or do. She had never seen her boyfriend so distraught. “Can’t you just give them the files back?” She asked, knowing it probably didn’t make sense.

“They demanded I turn over the drive to them, which I did, but they said it was policy to terminate anyone who broke that rule... Fuck!” Tae was pacing around the room now, pulling at his hair. “Now any accounting job I look for is going to ask why I got fired. This is not good...”

“We’ll think of something,” she said reassuringly, not really believing her own words.

That night, the worried couple broke the bad news to their roommate.

“Well, what are you gonna do? Y’all gonna break this new lease on me already?” Junho asked, looking less calm than his usual self. “I was counting on your guys’ portion so I could invest more.”

“I don’t see any other option. There’s no way we’ll be able to afford rent right now. Any extra money we had has gone towards Ryujin’s student loans...” Tae lamented.

Junho fell silent for a minute or so, his eyes darting back and forth, when an idea occurred to him. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your share of the rent until you get a new job.”

“Huh? No... No, you can’t do that,” Tae brushed off his friend’s proposition.

“I can. I’d rather just front you the money for a bit than deal with trying to find a new roommate. Way too much of a hassle,” Junho argued.

“Bro, I appreciate the offer, but that’s asking way too much of you...I don’t even know how long it will take me to land another job.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that long. Besides, where would you even go? Everywhere remotely close to Ryujin’s school is just as expensive if not more, and where would you get the cash for a new security deposit and all that shit? As far as I can tell your options are here or the streets.”

Junho’s words hit both of them hard. They hadn’t even had the time to consider how desperate their situation was. He was right. As of right then, they didn’t have enough money to live anywhere, let alone even be approved as tenants with their current situation. Ryujin chimed in first, “I could try to find a part time job or something...”

“No, your focus is still getting your degree. I don’t want this to fuck up our future. Plus, that wouldn’t be enough income anyway,” Tae replied. “I guess... since there’s no other option... We’ll have to take you up on your offer, Bro. I’ll pay you back when I can of course.”

“Don’t worry about the money. You guys can start paying me back right away, in fact,” Junho said, grinning smugly. “Hear me out... You won’t owe me a dime for the rent I cover while you’re out of work, but... Ryujin has to sleep in my bed three nights a week.”

The room fell dead silent, the couple doubting they had heard him correctly. Tae simply muttered, “What?”

Ryujin felt her blood boiling, and stammered, “You must be fucking joking...”

Junho chimed in again before they could process his ridiculous demand any further. “I’m not joking, and before you get any ideas, it’s not a sexual thing at all... I would be spending a great deal of cash to help you guys out, and I would need something big in return that makes me feel like it’s worth it-”

“Not sexual my ass! What in the hell are you talking about?” Ryujin interrupted, her face bright crimson. She shot a glance at her boyfriend, shocked he wasn’t more outraged.

“Well, for one, I just prefer having a woman’s company. It helps me sleep better, but it’s getting a little tiresome having to go on all these dates just to find a new bed buddy. They always want a relationship, and I’m not interested, so I have to go out and find someone else all over again. It’s expensive too, and since I’ll be a lot shorter on cash in the near future, having Ryujin around will make that whole situation a lot easier on me,” Junho explained calmly.

“...Sleeping buddy? You expect us to believe that!?” Ryujin challenged him. “There’s a lot more than sleeping going on in there, which we are forced to listen to all the time by the way.”

“Sure, we usually end up fucking, but my point is that I want a break from all that without having to sleep alone every night.” Junho continued the level-headed explanation of his terms, despite the mortified look on his roommates’ faces. “Plus, it bothers me that you hate me so much, and this will give us some time to get better acquainted. It’s honestly a great deal for you guys. Just think it over, and let me know.” With that, he turned for his bedroom and left the dumbfounded couple standing awkwardly in silence.

“So... we’re obviously not doing that,” Ryujin said finally.

“Yeah, no way. We’ll explore our options more tomorrow,” Tae agreed.

“Why didn’t you say more? You just stood there while he suggested the most degrading thing! Some fucking best friend you got there...”

“I know... I’m sorry... I mean it is a lot of money. He just wants us to take it seriously I guess-”

“Are you actually defending that creep? What part of how we’re handling this isn’t fucking serious? To suggest that we pay him back like... ugh... like I’m some fucking whore...”

“Let’s just go to bed. We’ll figure something else out.” Tae muttered, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can’t believe you. Both of you!” The young girlfriend yelled in anger and stormed off towards her bedroom, slamming the door.

—

The next week or so was nothing short of problematic for the young couple. They did not discuss the preposterous proposition their roommate had made, and focused all of their energy on finding a solution. Tae and Ryujin spent hours browsing apartments and rooms to rent, but no matter how they crunched the numbers, there was simply no way they could afford to sustain themselves. The cost of rent had increased drastically in the entire region, and every listing they browsed left them feeling more desperate.

Ryujin avoided Junho entirely. The fact that he had referred to her as an object for trade made her skin crawl, and yet his twisted deal clawed at the back of her mind. The notion that all of their financial troubles could be washed away in the blink of an eye was becoming harder to ignore as the situation worsened.

Each passing day, she considered the offer a little more seriously, rationalizing away the absurdity of it.

One night, the couple lay in bed after a failed attempt to have sex. The dire circumstances had drained Tae of his libido, and his desire to share some shred of pleasure with Ryujin proved impossible. On the verge of tears, he whimpered, “What are we gonna do...”

Ryujin felt a pit in her stomach. They couldn’t go on living like this. She felt a sudden surge of guilt, knowing that she could end their suffering at any time. After an exasperated sigh, she mumbled, “What if... we just try it out... for one night...”

“No... There has to be another way...” Tae replied.

“But there isn’t. We just need more time. I’m willing to give it a try... As long as he plays by my rules.”

“Are you sure, babe?”

“Ugh... no... but I’ll do it for us. It would probably just be a few times until you find another job after all, right?”

“Right. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.” Ryujin curled up and tried to sleep, but the knowledge of what they had just agreed to had tied her stomach into knots.

—

The following day, after hours of unsuccessful job and apartment hunting, the couple were a bundle of nerves as they waited for Junho to get home from work. When the moment finally came, he could tell immediately that there was an abnormal energy in the air.

“What’s going on guys? Don’t tell me you found a new place...”

Tae cleared his throat. “Ehm... No... We... were talking, and...”

He didn’t need to finish for Junho to figure it out. His friend’s awkward speech pattern and Ryujin’s scornful body language made it quite clear.

“You’re agreeing to the deal?” Junho asked, grinning.

“Yeah...” Tae muttered.

“But just a trial! If you can prove to me that you’ll be a gentleman through this, and not your usual...” Ryujin had to stop herself from hurling one of several cutting insults that were on the tip of her tongue, “...self... Then maybe this can work out.”

“I will be the perfect, platonic roommate. I promise. Let’s drink to it!” Junho hurried to pour shots, and the three of them did their best to enjoy the evening. After several rounds of drinks and some light-hearted discussion, the group was about ready to call it a night. No one had made any mention of the impending strangeness that would occur when they eventually decided to go to bed, but the time had come.

Ryujin was feeling fairly intoxicated as she kissed her boyfriend goodnight. It was the strangest feeling knowing they were going into separate rooms, but she had made up her mind and wasn’t going to turn back now. Surprisingly, Junho had actually been tolerable for the past couple of hours. She knew he couldn’t have actually changed that quickly, but to see him at least making an effort was a good start. After reluctantly parting ways with Tae, Ryujin followed her roommate to his doorway.

“You’re wearing that to bed?” Junho asked, examining her outfit.

She hadn’t even thought about it. She would normally just strip down to her underwear or throw on a baggy t-shirt with nothing underneath before getting under the covers. Neither of those options would be suitable now. “Damn. Um... be right back.” She trotted to her own room, changed into some gym shorts and a tank top, and gave Tae another kiss before returning to Junho across the apartment. He was in the same spot, and held the door open for her to pass through.

“I know how to open a door you know...” She muttered.

“Perfect gentleman, remember?” Junho responded, chuckling.

Ryujin entered the room and noticed right away that it smelled different than hers. Some sort of foreign, masculine scent hung in the air, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. She realized she had never actually been inside his space before. The next thing she noticed was that the dwelling was surprisingly clean and tidy. She had figured a single guy like him would have been living more or less like a slob, as Tae had before she moved in.

“Which side is mine?” She asked, motioning towards the bed.

“I sleep on the side with the door so I can protect you if anything goes wrong,” he jested.

Ryujin rolled her eyes and sat at the far edge of the bed, which was the third discovery to subvert her expectations. The mattress seemed exceedingly comfortable, and she pressed it a few times with the palm of her hands to examine it.

“Good stuff, right?” He asked, watching her with a cocky smile.

“Not gonna lie,” she said, laying on her back and wiggling into the cushiony material a bit, “This might be the comfiest bed I’ve ever felt.”

“Well I have expensive taste,” Junho bragged. “Glad you like it though,” he added.

“Whatever... This is so fucking weird. Is it morning yet?” Ryujin complained.

“Not even close,” he answered wickedly.

“This whole thing was just a ploy to get under my skin, wasn’t it?” She asked.

“Maybe a little... Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” He asked, still smiling.

“If you don’t understand that by now, I don’t see the point of getting into it,” she snapped.

“Fair enough,” Junho said simply. He began unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off of his torso.

“Dude, can’t you change in the closet or something?” Ryujin chided.

“What? I’m not getting naked or anything,” he stated as he pulled his pants down.

Ryujin looked away. “What the fuck, Junho.”

“Relaaax. I always sleep in my boxers. No big deal.”

Ryujin glanced at him again. She hated to admit it even to herself, but the man was in incredible shape. She could see how he was able to pick up women so consistently. If he wasn’t such a prick he- she shook the thought away and complained again, “Can’t you at least put a shirt on?”

“My room, my rules. By the way, I do take tips,” he joked, laughing at himself.

“You’re the worst...” Ryujin turned to her side, away from him, and decided that the best way to move forward was just to fall asleep as soon as possible. The bed shuffled a bit as he crawled into it next to her, but that was the last disturbance of the night.

—

The sun cast its rays through the blinds and onto Ryujin’s eyes, which she made no attempt to open yet. In her semi-awake state, she felt her boyfriend pressed up against her backside, with his hand on her hip. She then felt the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock against her ass. Her pussy was wet and craving attention. She had been abnormally horny lately due to the stresses of life getting in the way of their sex life. Ryujin slowly rocked her ass back and forth along his hardness, hoping to stir him awake and finally share a long awaited steamy sex session.

She reached back to free his erection and guide it into her dripping slit. It would be so hot for him to wake up inside of me, she thought. Her slender hand dipped into his waistband and wrapped around his shaft. She froze. Whatever she was holding felt foreign, and it was far too big to be Tae’s dick. Reality came rushing back to her and her eyes snapped open. This wasn’t her room; this wasn’t her bed; and the huge cock in her hand belonged to Junho.

Ryujin gasped audibly and quickly pulled her hand away from him. She turned to confirm, to her horror, that it was in fact Junho that she was snuggled up against. He appeared to be fast asleep, which was a relief. She carefully rolled away from him, taking care not to wake him. She realized she had somehow ended up on his side of the bed, a further incriminating detail she would be horrified for him to discover. Her eyes ran down his broad chest and chiseled abs, landing on his massive dick, which was still rock hard and now sticking out of his boxers. Her gaze lingered on it for several seconds. It didn’t even seem real. She had the thought to tuck it back into his underwear for a brief moment, to cover up the rest of the evidence of her mistake. Realizing how unnecessary that would be, she left the bed and exited the room.

As the scorching water of the shower poured over her, Ryujin tried to get the vision of her roommate’s naked body out of her mind. Her pussy ached, begging to be touched, but she would not allow herself to succumb to the temptation. Especially not with the image of Junho’s big cock so fresh in her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she had actually touched the thing, and had never imagined they could get that large. “It was an accident. I didn’t do anything wrong...” She repeated the phrase to herself as she dried off.

Ryujin returned to her own bedroom to find Tae was still asleep. She dropped her towel and climbed on top of him. She took his soft dick in her hands and tried to coax it to life. She desperately needed to get the sexual urges out of her system.

“Good morning, babe. Rise and shine,” she said sweetly.

Tae stirred finally and greeted his naked girlfriend. “How was your night?” He asked right away. She continued to fondle him, but his cock remained as limp as ever.

“It was fine... Weird, but fine,” she answered simply.

“He didn’t do anything... questionable?” Tae inquired.

“No... We just went to sleep. Other than feeling strange to be in the wrong bed, it was a pretty uneventful night overall.” She had decided to keep her awkward mistake to herself. It was too embarrassing and wasn’t worth bringing up since it was just an accident on her part.

“Well that’s good, I guess. Um... Sorry babe. I’m just not feeling it right now,” He muttered, glancing at his softness in her hands.

“That’s okay...” Ryujin tried to hide her disappointment. She had hoped that his sex drive would have improved now that their financial burdens were taken care of, but it made sense to her that it could take some time.

Unfortunately for her, Tae’s libido did not improve much over the next week. He always found some excuse to explain why it wasn’t the right time. Hoping it would improve the situation, Ryujin did not pressure him to look for work. It became apparent that he had stopped searching, but she reasoned that a break was probably healthy after all of the stress they had gone through. A little vacation never hurt anyone, she reminded herself as she observed him settling on the couch and clutching a video game controller.

As for the nights spent in Junho’s room, Ryujin was adjusting to the new routine. Luckily, nothing unsavory had happened since that first confusing morning in his bed. He would verbally tease her and find little ways to press her buttons, but she always had an insult ready to fire back at him. An onlooker might have called it flirting, but she was convinced that she still hated his guts.

Overall, the arrangement was going smoother than she had expected. In fact, Ryujin was surprised to find that she actually slept wonderfully in his luxurious, comfortable bed, and always woke up quite refreshed. Every morning though, she would find that she had soaked through her underwear and would sneak out in shame before Junho awoke. Her sexual appetite had not been addressed and her body was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Ryujin chalked it up to the recent lull in her and Tae’s sex life, but there was clearly a pattern emerging where her most lust-crazed mornings were in Junho’s bed.

One morning in particular, she noticed with dread that she had somehow become draped over him during the night, her cheek against his warm chest and her bare thigh across his crotch. She felt the familiar wetness between her legs and an unfamiliar hardness beneath her. Ryujin glanced down to find that Junho’s sizable morning wood had escaped his boxers and was trapped under her inner thigh, just inches away from her barely-clothed pussy. She cursed herself for unconsciously ending up in a dicey position with him again. She didn’t move, just laying still to collect her thoughts for a moment. His arm was on her, running down the length of her torso with his fingers resting on her ass. It would be difficult to move at all without waking him.

Ryujin’s cunt was on fire, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from giving into the urge to grind against him. The thick mushroom tip of his cock seemed to stare at her, poking out from the soft skin of her upper leg. It looked so plump and juicy, at least twice the size of her boyfriend’s, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it might feel inside of her. If it were in any way possible to ensure he would remain asleep, Ryujin wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist guiding Junho’s hard dick into her dripping wet pussy. She had never felt so tempted in her life.

Finally, after several minutes of suppression, she managed to carefully squirm out of his embrace and free herself of the potential embarrassment of being discovered cuddling so intimately. To her relief, Junho didn’t stir in the slightest as she maneuvered her body off of his. He was seemingly out cold. Unburdened of her weight, his big cock stood tall, pointing straight at the ceiling.

Subconsciously, Ryujin’s hand had found its way down her shorts, and she lightly stroked her aching pussy while gawking at the exposed man. The pleasure hit her in an instant, her impossibly needy sex finally getting some stimulation. Before she fully realized what she was doing, the young girlfriend was firmly rubbing her clit next to her sleeping roommate.

Junho’s huge erection remained fully inflated throughout the duration of her sneaky self-indulgence, and she was fixated on it. She made a conscious effort not to lust over the annoying man beside her, but her mind wouldn’t let her ignore the physical specimen. That fat fucking cock was exactly what her body had been craving for weeks now, and the raw sight of it fueled her burgeoning climax.

Ryujin’s orgasm hit her hard. Her mouth hung open while she quivered on the bed for a solid minute. When the flood of endorphins pummeling her brain finally slowed, she felt a mix of satisfaction and disgust. It bothered her that she had given in to her body’s urges, especially because Junho had been the focal point. She hated him and his alluring cock for breaking her will. As silly and illogical as the thought was, she felt better about what she’d just done by shifting the blame. It was the damn boys that got her into this situation, and thus all of this was their fault. Ryujin took one last look at the nude man and quietly left the bedroom.

A smug grin spread across Junho’s face as he listened to her retreating footsteps. He had been awake the entire time, sneaking quick glances at Ryujin’s masturbation session. He stroked his dick to the thought of her sexy body writhing around on his sheets, knowing he now had the upper hand.

—

The following “Junho night”, as she began calling them, had Ryujin feeling more anxious than usual. She couldn’t control the movements her body made while sleeping, which made her nervous. She couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up first and finding her snuggled up against him. If he were to somehow discover how wet she was, he would never shut up about it. She tried not to worry about all of that as she got onto the far end of his bed and curled up. They traded a few sarcastic remarks while he stripped off his clothes, as usual, and the room fell silent.

“Uh... Ryujin?” Junho asked softly.

“What?” She asked, already rolling her eyes in anticipation of whatever he was about to say.

“Just thought I should mention. I’ve been like... extra horny recently. So, if I happen to have a big boner in the morning or something, I don’t want you to freak out,” he explained.

Ryujin scoffed at him. “Whatever man. Just keep it away from me.”

As Ryujin closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she began hearing a repetitive rubbing sound behind her. When it didn’t stop after several seconds, she turned to look at Junho’s side of the bed.

“Dude, what the hell is-”

The words caught in her throat as she saw that Junho had removed his underwear and was openly jerking off right in front of her.

“What the fuck!?” She shouted, bewildered by his actions.

“Shhhh!” He responded, looking at her sternly while his hand continued to pump up and down.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Ryujin threw the blanket off of her, readying herself to storm out of the room.

“I told you I was abnormally horny...”

“Well, take it to the bathroom or something!” She demanded, fuming.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to masturbate in here, but I’m not?” Junho sneered accusingly.

“I- What are you talking about?” Ryujin asked defensively, feeling her stomach drop.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you the other morning going to town on your little cunt. Right there where you are now,” he accused her.

“What!? That’s bullshit!” She argued, knowing it was hopeless.

“We both know it isn’t. But hey, it’s fine. You have my permission to pleasure yourself in here as much as you want, just don’t expect me to play by a different set of rules. Fair is fair.”

Ryujin moved to get off of the bed. She was humiliated and needed to get away from him. “Where are you going?” Junho asked, still stroking himself with a steady rhythm. When she didn’t answer him, he added, “If you leave, I’ll tell Tae everything.” She froze. “About how his not-so innocent girlfriend couldn’t keep her body to herself, and got so worked up over the sight of my big dick that she played with herself right in front of me.

“You wouldn’t...” Ryujin muttered, half-standing with one knee still on the sheets.

He nodded threateningly. “Don’t ruin this whole arrangement just because you got a little horny. I’m still keeping my hands to myself. Unless you want them on you...”

“I don’t,” she said, defeated. She lay back down in silence, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, but continued watching him.

“Glad you decided to stay. Gotta admit I’d miss my favorite sleeping buddy if you called this deal off,” Junho teased.

“When I call it off,” she corrected him. “This is just a short term thing.”

“Well, I guess we better enjoy it while it lasts, right?”

“You’re certainly enjoying yourself...” She grumbled.

“You could be too...” He suggested.

“You wish,” she said dismissively, trying to ignore the growing heat between her thighs.

Junho was surprised that she still hadn’t looked away. He was having a great deal of fun taunting her while he openly played with himself. “So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“How do I measure up?” He glanced at his cock, and then back at her.

“Pfft. You’re disgusting,” Ryujin muttered. She shuffled a bit as if to turn away from him, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back at his performance.

“C’mon. You can’t deny I’m packing an impressive instrument here,” he teased.

“You seriously think that just cause you wag your big dick around I’m going to instantly drop my panties?”

“So you do admit that it’s big,” Junho retorted confidently.

Her face flushed crimson. “Ugh... You’re so annoying...” She flopped over onto her side, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the scene.

“Ryujin...”

“What now?”

“I’m gonna cum. So hard,” he grunted.

She reluctantly turned to Junho again, just in time to see his thick cock jump and spurt a lengthy rope of semen straight into the air. Another creamy strand of his fluid shot out, and then another, each of them reaching preposterous heights before landing on his toned belly. Ryujin watched in amazement as her roommate ejaculated with more force and volume than she would’ve considered possible. On the surface she looked appalled to witness it, but her pussy burned with desire at the erotic showing.

“Fuck...” She murmured, lost for words and involuntarily squeezing her thighs together...

Junho cleaned himself off and settled into the bed. “Night,” he said smugly. He turned off the lamp and didn’t say another word to her.

Ryujin’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe what had just taken place. How did things escalate so quickly? She just witnessed the man she despised jerk himself off to completion, and it left her extremely aroused, despite how badly she wanted to be disgusted. Her pussy was soaking wet and practically screaming at her to touch it. She tossed and turned for several minutes before ultimately losing the internal battle. Very quietly, her hand dipped into her shorts and she pressed her fingers into her aching entrance. For the second time that week, a conflicted Ryujin shamefully pleasured herself to orgasm in Junho’s bed.

—

The new routine had been established, and over the next several nights while they were together, Junho would strip completely naked and masturbate beside her. Ryujin would always act appalled, and call him out for being a pig, but she’d watch him anyway with a disapproving look. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to secretly touch herself under the blanket while he stroked one out, but she always waited until he was asleep to make herself cum. She couldn’t risk him knowing the effect he was having on her. She always came so hard after teasing herself while watching him, and privately began looking forward to her “Junho nights”, knowing the pleasure that would ensue.

One evening, as he fished his half-erect cock from his underwear, she asked him, “Do you do this every single night?”

He replied, “Honestly, only when you’re here.”

“Gross.” She scoffed.

“You’re so fucking hot, Ryujin. Just knowing you’re in my bed drives me crazy. It’s the only thing I can do to control myself,” he explained earnestly.

“Well, you’re disgusting, and you can’t have me,” she muttered, suppressing a grin. The rare compliment threw her off, and she couldn’t deny that it was flattering to know how intensely he lusted after her. It was a bit of a power trip realizing that she was off limits, yet so desirable that he had to beat off every time she was around.

Junho snickered. He knew it was just a matter of time before her will would shatter. “That’s fine. I’ll settle for my thoughts for now.”

“I can only imagine the perverted shit you conjure up in that thick skull of yours,” Ryujin said bitingly.

“Oh, I think you’d love it.”

“Try me.” Ryujin regretted the encouragement the second it left her lips. Her hidden lust had gotten the better of her.

Junho flashed a bright smile. “Well, speaking of trying you... I could, for instance, crawl between your legs right now and eat your little pussy until you were screaming for me to fuck you.”

His sudden directness spurred a small shockwave in her gut and her nipples hardened. “Pfft! You wouldn’t dare. You know this arrangement is over the minute you lay a finger on me, you ass.”

“It’s just a fantasy. Relax,” he replied calmly, still slowly stroking himself. “If that actually were to happen though... I’m positive you wouldn’t stop me.” Junho’s arrogance was making her blood boil, but her body was reacting to his dirty imagery. “Believe me though. I have a skilled tongue, and you’d be addicted to it in no time.”

“Fuck off. You are so damn full of yourself it’s sickening,” Ryujin remarked with her most disapproving expression. She could feel her pussy moistening by the second.

He noted that she hadn’t told him to stop yet. “Of course, that would just be the appetizer. Just a little warm up for the main event. Next, I would slowly kiss my way up your body until you felt this fat cock prod your slick entrance. That’s when the begging would really start...”

Ryujin’s cunt was burning now, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from attending to it. She couldn’t help a swift glance at his engorged dick, picturing its considerable size stretching her open. She became aware that she was biting her lower lip, and lashed out in embarrassment. “Begging you to leave me the fuck alone, you creep!”

“You have no clue what you’re missing. I know exactly how to please a sexy woman like you. I’d have you creaming all over my big cock the entire night. One experience with a real man like me would blow your innocent little mind. Then I’d blow my thick load deep inside of you and seal the deal...” As he finished his sentence, Junho’s cock throbbed and began launching the heaviest strands of sticky semen she had seen yet as he let out a deep, breathy moan.

Ryujin’s hand shot down to her panties, but she stopped herself, desperately trying to maintain control. She was soaking wet, and her thighs squirmed ever so slightly. If not for the blanket, he would easily be able to see how turned on she was. The sex-starved girlfriend felt her pussy drooling as she imagined all of that milky cum coating her insides. No one had ever cum inside of her before, and she wondered why the idea of it was suddenly so insanely hot. She was at a loss for words, and mindlessly said, “You’re gross.”

The look of deep conflict on Ryujin’s face was clearly apparent to Junho, who was studying her reaction carefully as his climax ran its course. “Go ahead. Ryujin. I won’t tell...”

“Shut up.” She hated him for putting her in this position, but her body wanted to give in so badly.

“Touch yourself. I know you need it,” he persisted.

“I do not.” Ryujin lied. Even as she said it, her hand was sliding back down her torso beneath the blanket. Her body was winning the battle.

Unbeknownst to her, Junho could see the subtle movements and grinned victoriously. “Don’t deny yourself. It’s natural,” he encouraged.

“Shut up.” She muttered again. Her mind was racing as her fingers dipped into her underwear and finally made contact with her aching pussy. A spark of ecstasy rippled through her instantly, her brain pleading her to continue.

Junho watched as her hardened expression shifted slightly, revealing that her determination had finally broken. “That’s it... God you look hot.”

Ryujin wanted her arrogant roommate to say more dirty things to her. She despised that this was happening, but she was too far in now as she furiously rubbed her drenched cunt. “You don’t know anything...”

“Don’t be ashamed. We’re friends here.”

“No, we’re not. Ugh. I fucking hate you...” She said through clenched teeth. The pleasure was ramping up significantly, and her eyes drifted down to Junho’s shiny member. It had deflated slightly, but was still quite engorged as it lay across his abs, surrounded with his splattered semen. “...and your stupid big cock,” she added, practically whimpering.

“I’m going to fuck you with this stupid big cock one day,” Junho stated boldly.

“Nnooghh... No you aren’t...” Ryujin couldn’t believe she was getting off to his completely inappropriate threats. She could feel a powerful orgasm brewing.

“Yes I will. You will be my personal cum slut, and you will join me in bed every single night so I can give your needy little pussy all the attention it’s been craving.”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Ryujin yelped far louder than she intended as her climax overwhelmed her. All control over her body slipped right through her fingers as her thighs clamped tightly together and she trembled on the sheets. Soft moans escaped her lips as visions of Junho sexually dominating her flashed through her mind. The intensity of her orgasm completely blindsided her, and it seemed to last minutes. As the pleasure finally waned, she opened her eyes to see her roommate’s shit eating grin.

“Well that was ridiculously sexy. Now I need to take care of this again,” he said, looking down at his revitalized erection. “Wanna help me out?”

“This never happened!” Ryujin flipped onto her side, facing away from him, and pulled the blanket tightly into her. She shut her eyes and tried to block out the shame that was taking hold of her. She had just openly pleasured herself right next to the man she supposedly loathed more than anyone else. Worse still, she had done it while he described how he was going to fuck her and make her his slut, all behind her boyfriend’s back. The situation had gotten so completely out of control that it didn’t even feel real. Maybe it was a dream, she thought. She let the hopeful idea live in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic sounds of Junho beating his meat again behind her.

The next couple of days proved to be quite awkward for Ryujin, and she avoided her roommate as much as possible. Everytime she caught a glimpse of him, she was reminded of what had transpired. The dirty, degrading things he had said to her swirled around in her head intrusively. No matter what she did to take her mind off of things, she felt insatiably horny. Her boyfriend Tae was still the opposite, and seemingly couldn’t be bothered with anything sexual.

On the next “Junho night” she was surprised when the usually boisterous man made no acknowledgment of their last session together. He still jerked off as usual, but mostly kept to himself and went to sleep without incident. She couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed, but also couldn’t allow herself to acknowledge it openly.

She half expected he would try to push the boundary further given the things he had mentioned. The sex-starved primitive part of her brain was so ready for him to assert himself, and her pussy drooled at the thought that she was ripe for the taking if he decided to have her. She was within arm’s reach, and her inability to control her urges had already been exposed by him. There was absolutely no way she was going to stoop so low as to encourage a repeat of the last time they were in bed together though. It was better this way, she told herself, sneaking a peak at his sexual display. It was weird enough how normalized his masturbation in her proximity had become, let alone her openly joining him again.

Though she convinced herself it wasn’t for him, Ryujin started wearing more revealing outfits around Junho. She’d pretend not to notice, but she enjoyed the ego boost whenever she caught him eye-balling her. She even began “accidentally” leaving his blanket off of her torso while he jerked off, so he could have a clear view of her considerable cleavage and flat tummy. She opted to remove her bra after getting into bed, rationalizing that it was just for her comfort. It was thrilling to tease him; to know that he was probably undressing her with his eyes while he pleasured himself.

She kept up the act for the most part, scoffing at him disapprovingly when he whipped out his big cock. She’d pretend to scroll on her phone while watching him in her peripheral vision and lightly teasing her pussy under the safety of the blanket. Slowly but surely, she was becoming more comfortable with the ritual and the notion that it was just a bit of harmless fun. She deserved to blow off steam given how deprived she had been lately. As long as they didn’t push it any further, she rationalized that she wasn’t technically cheating.

Things felt different in the apartment. Tae, though normally oblivious, started to pick up on the strange vibes. His girlfriend seemed to be wearing less clothing, and he thought he saw Junho checking her out a few times. The two of them seemed to be getting along a lot better, which was a pleasant change, but also slightly concerning. He noticed some kind of electricity between his roommates, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He would ask from time to time how the sleeping agreement was going, and she would always shrug it off as “No big deal”.

Tae’s anxiety was worsened by the fact that Ryujin seemed generally upset with him for not trying harder to find employment, and had basically stopped trying to initiate sex after a string of several disappointing trials. They would engage in a daily argument about him being lazy and complacent to be out of work. The disheveled boyfriend inspected himself in the mirror with a frown. It had now been several weeks since he was fired, and he had really let himself go. He’d never been as fit as his more athletic buddy, but used to at least maintain some sort of standard. He knew he had to start taking control of his life again soon, but didn’t know if he had the strength to do it, especially with the embarrassment surrounding the truth of his job loss. A truth he had not disclosed to his girlfriend, and the reason why his friend was enjoying her overnight company on a regular basis.

To prove a point, Ryujin managed to land a part-time job at a retail store. It wasn’t ideal, but would at least give her a bit of spending money before her classes started back up. The other plus was that she wasn’t stuck in the apartment all day watching her boyfriend do nothing. The responsible thing to do would have been to put the money away and save up for a new place, freeing herself from the absurd sleeping arrangement. Instead, she spent her measly income on new clothes. Her employee discount aided in her rationalizing these purchases. What started out as picking out sensible outfits for her new job quickly devolved into acquiring skimpy workout attire and sexy nightwear. She’d never had the money to spend frivolously and was enjoying the opportunity to treat herself a little.

“Don’t look over here.” Ryujin’s request escaped her lips despite an internal battle to keep the transparent, attention-seeking comment to herself. She carefully removed her day clothes to reveal a particularly risque nightie she had picked up that afternoon. It left little to the imagination, and her toned, but curvaceous figure was on full display.

“Damn, you’re asking for it you know...” Junho said, completely disregarding her plea for privacy as he fished for his manhood.

“I said DON’T look!” She reprimanded him, jumping under the covers for protection. “It’s for Tae. I just wanted to try it out and make sure it’s actually comfy. Don’t get any ideas!” Ryujin’s focus dropped to his crotch, noting that her display had made the man instantly hard.

Junho gently ran his fingers up and down the impressive length of his shaft while studying the petite woman. The blanket had already conveniently fallen from her chest, and his eyes followed the distinct curves of her succulent tits. The thin, almost transparent fabric seemed to hug them perfectly, and he yearned to see more. He decided though, that patience was key. His conservative approach had been working wonderfully, and he needed to play his current hand a little bit longer.

“Ugh. Now you’re probably thinking really inappropriate things about me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this...” Ryujin knew how obvious the act was, but her lust clouded her judgment.

“It’s pretty hot. I’m sure Tae will enjoy it,” he replied simply, still jerking off. He watched her cute nose flare ever so slightly at his unwillingness to take the bait. She can still enjoy the show, but it’s not FOR her until she submits more. He grinned arrogantly, eventually finishing himself off and unceremoniously cleaning up.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Ryujin muttered, turning away from him. The young girlfriend fell asleep more frustrated and unsatisfied than ever.

—

The following night, Junho returned home with an assortment of alcohol and insisted the group play drinking games together. They started with a simple card game, and within an hour each of them was feeling the effects of the potent liquid. The trio erupted in surprise and laughter as Tae flipped the final card, indicating that he would have to drink from the large glass they had been contributing to throughout the game. The intoxicated boyfriend winced as he tipped the foul mixture into his mouth, his roommates cheering him on. He managed to chug the entirety of it, gaining an applause from the group as he triumphantly slammed the glass to the table. His clumsy act caused Ryujin’s drink to fall over, splashing her clothes with the sugary substance.

She shrieked and jumped up from her chair while Tae stumbled to the kitchen for a towel. Without thinking it through, she hurriedly pulled off her top and shorts right there in the living room. Junho’s eyebrows shot up as he drank in the sight of his sexy roommate, suddenly in nothing but an exquisite set of lacy, black underwear. She patted the material all over, checking that it was dry.

“Woah-What’re you doing!?” Tae stammered as he realized his girlfriend had become half naked in front of their roommate.

“What? I- I didn’t want my new underwear to get stained!” The woman was clearly intoxicated and uninhibited. She shot Junho a glance, momentarily grasping the fact that she was exposed, and the hunger in his expression sent a tingling sensation from her nipples to her pussy.

“Well okay, but - shouldn’t you cover up now?” He suggested nervously.

“I dunno... It feels kind of nice! Don’t I look good?” She asked her boyfriend playfully. She was experiencing quite a thrill from showing off her body.

“Yeah, you look great, but...” Tae looked over at Junho, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I don’t mind.” The roommate stated, raising his hands in a half shrug. “If she feels comfortable, then go for it, right?”

“I guess so...” Tae slinked back into his chair, feeling defeated, and a little too drunk to form a cohesive argument.

“Thanks, babe!” Ryujin giggled and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. “So, what’s next?” She asked the group proudly, standing tall with her hands on her hips.

“Drink and drive?” Junho suggested. The group agreed, and filled up their drinks before taking a spot on the shared couch, the barely-clothed woman sitting between the two men, much to Tae’s dismay. The three buzzed roommates enjoyed a few rounds of competitive video game racing, while downing more drinks throughout.

The furniture was plenty large enough to accommodate all of them, yet Ryujin found herself sandwiched tightly between the much larger men. She didn’t complain though, secretly enjoying the warmth of Junho’s bare thigh against hers. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she privately compared the two males on either side of her. One was tanned and muscled, the other pale and flabby. As more drinks filled her belly, she loosed up further, shoving her body into her roommate’s flirtatiously whenever the events of the game called for it. He even squeezed her smooth thighs a few times, which only increased her arousal.

Junho was rock hard for the entirety of the game, stealing several lengthy glances down Ryujin’s bra while the others were too immersed to notice. He had to have her, and his cock ached for release as he enjoyed the sensation of her luscious legs against his.

Eventually, the trio decided it was time to hit the sack. Ryujin, stumbling slightly, followed her tall roommate to his room, leaning on him for stability.

“Babe...” Tae whined, looking at her accusingly. “It’s an us night. You’re going the wrong way...” He had already witnessed the pair flirting pretty consistently throughout the evening, and seeing his girl’s hand wrapped around his friend’s large bicep filled him with jealousy.

“Oh! Are you sure?” She asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Yeah... You slept in there last night, remember?” He was right, and she shamefully let go of the muscled arm.

“My bad... I guess I’m a little more tipsy than I thought...” She couldn’t show it, but the young girlfriend was disappointed. She was intensely horny, and had been looking forward to her routine of playing with her pussy while pretending to be disinterested in Junho’s big cock. She knew Tae wouldn’t be up for anything sexual.

“Hang on. How about one more race?” Junho asked mischievously, staring his friend down. He’d hoped the boyfriend had become too drunk to notice the mistake, and now had to think on his feet. Tae simply shook his head, knowing where this was going. The confident man added, “If I win, I get a bonus Ryujin night tonight; but If I lose, we change the arrangement to only once per week instead of three, permanently.” His offer hung in the air for several seconds while the room contemplated.

“What’s the point even? It’s not like you get to - to...” Tae couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, but the implication was understood. He tried to shake away the painful thought of the man taking advantage of his girlfriend.

“I know dude. It’s not about that,” Junho said reassuringly.

“It’s just one last silly bet to end the night on. I want to feel like I won a prize, you know?”

“I dunno...” Tae muttered sheepishly, looking towards Ryujin to gauge her reaction. She just stood there silently, waiting to see how it would play out. His mind was a swirling mix of conflicting thoughts. He should just outright refuse, but if he won, then he would have a lot more of her to himself. He did feel he was the better gamer, and the alcohol gave him just enough confidence to weakly agree. “Fine... let’s do it.”

Ryujin’s heart lept in her chest as the events unfolded in front of her. She felt objectified; a bargaining chip to be turned over to the victor. It reminded her of the origin of the agreement that now felt like it happened so long ago. Things were different now, and instead of feeling disgusted, she found the whole ordeal to be an incredible turn on. She stood there in her skimpy underwear, waiting with great anticipation for the two males to decide who got to claim her for the night. She secretly hoped it would be her big dicked roommate.

The race was on, both men focusing intently on the screen and clutching their controllers tightly. It was anyone’s game, as they both traded the first place position several times while the finish line drew nearer.

“You got this babe!” Ryujin cheered for her boyfriend, her barely contained breasts jiggling in their lacy enclosure as she bounced with excitement. Tae pulled ahead, looking like he was set to win, when one of his girlfriend’s tits popped out, greeting the room in its full fleshy glory. “Oops!” She laughed.

Her exposed chest caught Tae’s eye, and he shot her a look of disgust. “Ryujin!? What the fuck?” The momentary distraction was enough for him to take the final turn a little too widely, and Junho took the lead. “No, no, no!” He smashed his buttons in a futile attempt to make up the distance, but the race was lost.

“Woo!” Ryujin exclaimed, accidentally letting her joy at the result slip off of her tongue. She met eyes with her fuming boyfriend and tucked her breast back into the bra. “Awww, babe! I’m sorry!”

“What the fuck was that!?” Tae screamed at her, slamming his controller onto the table.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear, it just got loose while I was cheering you on!”

“Well that’s not fair! Another race!” He demanded, his face beet red.

“Sorry bro, a deal’s a deal. Accidents happen,” Junho said calmly standing from his seat.

“But...” Tae looked at his almost nude girlfriend in disbelief, her small frame eclipsed by his large roommate who approached her. She simply shrugged.

“You did really well! Sorry I accidentally distracted you...” While she was telling the truth about the wardrobe malfunction, she put on an act to mirror his disappointment, pouting as she walked over and gave him a peck on the lips. “See you tomorrow, babe. Goodnight.” Tae slumped into the couch, his head spinning as he watched the beauty disappear behind Junho’s door.

Ryujin wasn’t sure what to expect as she sat on her side of the bed, resting her back against the cool, cushioned headboard. The first thing she noticed was that her sleeping mate had gotten into bed with his boxers still on, and was idly tapping at his phone. She lay there for several minutes wondering when he would inevitably start the stroking session, but he didn’t. She hated herself for letting it bother her, yet couldn’t help but ask about it.

“Wow, no self-service tonight, huh?”

Junho replied, “Sorry to disappoint. I guess your body all covered up and hidden isn’t doing it for me anymore.” He was determined to make her work for it, and focused his thoughts on anything other than the sexy body next to him to maintain self control.

“What is your imagination broken or something?” She teased, glancing at the flaccid bulge in his underwear. She felt an urge to do something to awaken it. It was almost as if his lack of an erection was a personal insult to her. After no response from him, she made a transparent excuse.

“Eh... Well it’s a pretty hot night anyway...” She pulled the rest of the blanket off of her, revealing her long, smooth legs and adjusting her bra to push up her swelling chest as much as possible.

They both feigned an interest in their phones, while secretly stealing glances at each other. Ryujin noticed his crotch had swelled a bit, and commented on his half-boner. “Hm. I guess something is doing it for you now...” She said slyly.

“Maybe a little,” he responded casually. The man knew she was bothered by his lack of interest, and it was a joy to watch her squirm.

Ryujin’s annoyance hit a tipping point, and she rose to her knees, facing him. “Oh, so all of a sudden I’m just not hot enough huh?” As soon as the words left her lips she felt the sting of embarrassment.

Junho looked at her smugly. “You’re pretty hot, it’s just I’ve seen it all before, ya know?”

Ryujin subconsciously tugged her bra down a little further. “I’m already showing so much! Don’t you like this little number? I can’t believe it’s all I’ve been wearing all night.”

“Mhmm...”

“I think you’re just trying to get me naked...” Ryujin added.

Junho said nothing, but stared at her chest intently. It was now a game of chicken, and Ryujin was fully invested in the challenge of making him hard by the mere sight of her.

She slowly pulled her lacy bra further and further down her chest, and as more of her soft, perky tits were revealed, his cock grew in size. Finally, as the material had stretched as far as it could go, she reached in and scooped her breasts out of their prison, and they stood proudly out in the open.

Quite pleased with herself, she looked at his fully enlarged bulge, which was straining against the fabric of his boxers. “I guess you couldn’t help yourself,” she said victoriously. “Aren’t you gonna play with it?”

“I’d really prefer if you did,” Junho replied. Her tits looked better than he could’ve imagined, but he had to hold back just a little longer if he was going to ensure access.

“Well... That’s against the rules,” she argued.

“So was rubbing your pussy,” he said.

“No, that was different...” She was losing steam.

“Uh huh... Why are you so horny for my cock, Ryujin?”

“I’m not...” She could hardly believe her own actions. Here she was, in nothing but a thong, trying to tease her roommate into jerking off in front of her. It was beyond ridiculous, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t have the strength to stop herself.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off of it. And your nipples are hard,” he argued. Fighting the compulsion to attack her alluring chest mouth-first.

Ryujin blushed and deflected, “Doesn’t it hurt? Constrained all tightly like that?”

“As a matter of fact, it is very uncomfortable. Now help me out.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased.

“So would you,” Junho said as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. He slowly guided her to his crotch and rested her on his bulge. He lightly stroked himself using her fingers, and looked at her to gauge her reaction. She said nothing, and remained fixated on what he was doing. He then moved her fingers to his waistband and left them there.

“All you have to do is pull this down and it will be freed.”

“...I... Can’t-”

“Do it...”

Despite her better judgment, Ryujin tugged at his boxers and his thick, swollen cock sprang out, waving back and forth a few times before settling into its straight, rigid position. Junho took her hand again and wrapped her fingers around the shaft. It was radiating heat, and looked even bigger up close in her small hand. She unknowingly held her breath as she eased her fingers up and down the impressive length. It was so much larger than Tae’s, and she felt mesmerized by it. It was as if she was carefully examining some otherworldly object.

“Mmm... You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this...” Junho cooed, snapping her out of her daze and fully removing his underwear.

“Well don’t get used to it. This is a one time thing,” she muttered in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control.

Ryujin had a feeling she would never live up to those words as she squeezed his hardness. She made herself more comfortable, laying on her side and propping herself up on her free elbow. Her face was just inches from his bare chest as she worked her hand along his meaty shaft.

“I’m just curious, that’s all...” She murmured distractedly, admiring the weight of him in her grip. She traced the tip of the head down to the base with her finger tips, and cupped her balls in her palm. They seemed so heavy and full, which made perfect sense to her given the sheer volume of semen he would always unleash.

Junho’s idle hands also began wandering, and he softly ran his fingers through her hair. While whispering words of encouragement to her, he slowly stroked her down the length of her back, grinning upon noticing goosebumps forming on her shoulders. He traced lines up and down her spine, barely making contact and causing her to shiver with delight. He could hardly believe it was actually happening. His best friend’s girl, whom he’d wanted to fuck since the moment he met her, was willingly caressing his cock. The fact that she had always been so standoffish and rude to him made the moment all the sweeter.

Ryujin was so consumed with studying his manhood that she barely noticed when Junho started touching her. It wasn’t until he made contact with her plump ass cheek that she paused.

“Hey... stop that,” she said weakly.

“Oh, be quiet,” he responded light-heartedly, reciprocating her unconvincing protest.

She began pumping his cock, allowing him to squeeze her ass, which was all the encouragement he needed to take it further. He rested his palm on her shoulder and pushed her down into the bed so that she was flat on her back beside him. He then shifted down to her level and placed his muscular arm on her abdomen, holding her in place as well as giving him access to her lower half.

“What are you doing!?” Ryujin cried out with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She grabbed his thick forearm with both hands to try and stop the inevitable, but he was already testing the wetness of her thong.

“Junho, stop,” Ryujin said urgently, trying to sound like she meant it.

“Make me,” he replied as he slid his fingers under the damp fabric and touched her dripping pussy for the first time.

Ryujin squirmed as he caressed her most sensitive area. It felt like her last line of defense was being bombarded; the private part of her, reserved for her boyfriend, under assault. The pleasure hit her immediately though, and after hopelessly struggling under his strength for a short while, she began to give in to it.

“Nnghh... Please!” She wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for anymore, whether it be to stop or continue.

“We both know you need this,” he said with authority as he dipped two fingers into her and started hooking them back and forth. His elbow dug into her chest as she struggled against him, his digits fully penetrating her. With his other hand, he grabbed her soft tit and squeezed. He switched between mauling the flesh of her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples, all while firmly stimulating her g spot.

Ryujin moaned openly as Junho continued to grope and finger her. His strong hands were doing things to her that she couldn’t possibly achieve on her own. She was completely overwhelmed. The loud squishing sound from her pussy almost seemed to sing of her body’s consent as he dug into it. She could scream for her boyfriend, but her brain wouldn’t allow it. The pleasure was too great, and her intense craving for it had gone on too long. There was nothing she could do but lay there and take it.

“Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a cunt this wet. You must be loving this,” Junho muttered.

He was right. She could feel her juices gushing like never before, as if her body instinctively knew how to prepare for an encounter with such a dominant, masculine partner. A movement in the corner of her eye reminded her of his monstrous cock, and without thinking she reached out to take it. She pumped it hard in her closed fist, mirroring the intensity he was unleashing on her sex. She was suddenly overcome with the desire to make him cum; to witness his incredible manhood explode by her own hand.

“Ugh, just like that baby,” Junho cooed, elated that she had warmed up enough to reciprocate. He was determined to orgasm along with her, and ride the high together. The sight of her naked form sprawled out in front of him was enough to do the trick. She was absolutely beautiful. Delicate and elegant, yet oozing raw sexuality, especially in her current state. She was built for this, and he already couldn’t wait to have more of her.

The duo were wrapped up in a dense cloud of sexual intensity, jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed while they vigorously worked to get each other off. So many tense nights had led up to this moment, and the barriers that had been keeping them tame were crashing down all around them. Junho leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, his rough jaw making contact with her delicate chin.

Ryujin opened her mouth immediately and accepted his passion, their tongues clashing near the peak of their lust. It felt even more wrong somehow to accept the intimate kiss, but it felt so incredibly good and fueled her desire for his masculine dominance to even greater heights. She allowed him to taste her completely, moaning into the strong kiss with unbridled pleasure.

“Oh my god... ngh fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna - NGH - CUM!” Ryujin felt a powerful force rising in her, like an overinflated balloon that was about to burst. And then it did. Her jaw fell wide open, and her thighs squeezed inwards, trapping Junho’s hand like a vice. Sharp jolts of ecstasy pulsed from her depths, igniting every nerve in her body. Time seemed to stop as she was thrashed again and again. The thick fingers inside of her did not skip a beat, and each purposeful movement seemed to directly stroke the pleasure center of her brain.

Ryujin felt a wetness grace the back of her hand, and opened her eyes just in time to see Junho’s throbbing member erupting. Thick, sticky seed blasted into the air and coated every inch of her closed fist. As her climax shook her body, her unsteady grip on him caused quite the mess. His vigorous load was flung in every direction, splattering both of them and the sheets. As the potent pleasure boiling within them cooled to a simmer, they couldn’t help but share a tension-cutting laugh. There was cum everywhere.

“Holy fuck...” Junho murmured. “That was so damn hot.”

Ryujin felt like she was floating on a cloud, and closed her eyes to savor the moment. “Yeah...” She uttered the simple agreement with a long drawn out breath. She hadn’t felt such immense satisfaction in a long time, and allowed herself a peaceful moment to soak it in as the many drops of semen trickled down her skin. Her brand new underwear had gotten completely soiled, but she couldn’t care less in that blissful moment.

The pair managed to eventually clean themselves up and remove the soiled sheets. As Ryujin settled into her spot on the bed, the positive feelings that had dominated her consciousness were giving way to feelings of guilt and shame. She and Junho had officially gone too far, and she wrestled with the thought in silence before finally falling asleep.

Ryujin kept herself busy the next day, even opting to pick up an extra shift at work. The knowledge that she had cheated on her boyfriend weighed heavily on her mind, but she also felt a flash of excitement any time she recalled the event. The steamy encounter with her roommate made her already intense appetite even harder to ignore, and she had to fight the urge to duck into a dressing room to get herself off.

She even managed to mount Tae that night, desperate for cock, and perhaps eager to soothe her conscience by enjoying some intimate time that wasn’t “off limits”. The troubled young man was more eager than he had been in a while, fueled by his jealousy from the previous night. After riding him for a short time, Ryujin gasped as he took control and flipped her onto her back, fucking her with the anger he had felt after losing her to Junho. While he did manage to build a nice rhythm, he couldn’t last more than a minute, and she was left unsatisfied.

“That felt so good,” he said, breathing heavily and studying her reaction.

“Yeah...” She lied, noting how incredibly miniscule his load was inside the spent condom compared to the voluminous fountain that had splashed her the previous evening. Her boyfriend had always been enough for her before, but things were different now. She felt a pit in her stomach knowing that things would likely not go back to how they were between them.

“I’m sorry for getting so upset last night. I just... really, really didn’t want to lose that bet...” Tae muttered, his head hanging downwards.

“It’s okay, babe. Believe me, I know how it feels for Junho to get under your skin.”

“He’s such an ass sometimes. Did you - um - you wore that lingerie to bed with him?” He asked nervously.

“I... did...” Ryujin confessed slowly. “But I just got under the covers and went right to sleep. It’s not like I wore them for him or anything,” she added, knowing full well that the two-piece was in fact at the bottom of the laundry basket, speckled with their roommate’s dry cum. The comment seemed to comfort her boyfriend slightly.

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I can get over it. As long as he doesn’t get the wrong idea.” Tae still wasn’t crazy about his friend getting an eye-full of his girlfriend’s exposed body, but decided not to push the issue further. “I know that you’re just doing all of this to help us survive... And I know I need to step it up. I’ve been a real slob,” the boyfriend admitted.

“Thanks for owning up to it. I believe in you. You just gotta get back out there,” she encouraged.

“You’re right, and I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Though their relationship had deteriorated recently, Ryujin still had feelings for Tae. He had been her first serious partner and they had lost their virginities together. The struggles of late had done damage, but there was still something there. Despite her actions, she still wanted the best for him, and wrestled with the thought that it might be best to just come clean about how things between her and Junho had gotten out of hand. If only she could think straight. The thrill of discovering this new, sexual side of herself, and the twisted pleasure that came with it was overwhelming her sensibilities.

Ryujin dreamed vividly that night. She was in Junho’s bed, but the room looked different for some reason. He was there, stroking his huge dick as usual, and he suddenly reached out and ripped the blanket off of her. She was fully naked, with her fingers in her pussy, frozen like a deer in headlights. “I knew it!” He shouted, and scrambled on top of her. He slapped her creamy folds with his hard manhood and then firmly thrust into her. Ryujin was paralyzed and lay there helplessly while he had his way with her. It felt fucking incredible. She moaned loudly in pleasure, captivated by the animalistic, sex-crazed expression on his face. Then his face morphed into Tae’s.

“Babe? Babe? Ryujin!”

Her eyes snapped open and she found that she was in her own room. Her boyfriend was gently shaking her. “You were moaning in your sleep. I figured you were having a nightmare or something,” he said worriedly.

“Oh... Yeah... A nightmare,” she lied. She immediately noticed that her underwear were drenched. She’d experienced the first of many sexual dreams involving her roommate that night, and waited for Tae to fall asleep to quell the overwhelming urge between her legs.

—

The new routine had been established, and although she would earnestly try each and every time to keep to herself, Ryujin would inevitably end up with her hands wrapped around Junho’s hard cock while his fingers assaulted her cunt.

“Not tonight,” she’d say, turning her back to him as if to go straight to sleep like the faithful girlfriend she was supposed to be. She knew full well he wasn’t going to take “No” for an answer though, and secretly craved his attempts to convince her.

“Oh, playing games again tonight, are we?” He teased. “As if your little pussy isn’t soaking wet in there, waiting to be manhandled.”

She squirmed her thighs together, his words having an effect.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The swoosh of his boxers being removed could be heard.

“Come play with your new favorite toy a little.”

“You’ve got two hands. Use ‘em,” Ryujin teased back.

“If you insist,” he chuckled, scooting towards her and reaching under the blanket.

“No! You know what I meant!”

She squealed as his large hands roamed over her exposed skin. Ryujin always knew the battle was lost the minute he started touching her. Something about the way he manipulated her with his powerful fingers drove her crazy. Before she could get another word in, his toned arm was around her narrow waist, pulling her into him. Now wrapped in his strong embrace, the dainty woman was powerless to resist. She let out an involuntary moan as he firmly pulled her thong to the side and rubbed her slippery clit.

“Why do you always have to put up a fight?” He growled into her ear.

“Ngghh! Because you’re a stupid creep! I’m - Uhnn - not bad like you!” She could hardly get the words out as he finger fucked her, her lower half vibrating with the intensity of his actions. Ryujin squirmed against the large frame of her roommate, his hard cock at full attention and slapping against her quivering thigh.

“You’re a horny little slut, and you know it,” he muttered hoarsely, nibbling her ear. “Why else would your cunt be this fucking wet for me?”

Ryujin wanted to tell him that she despised him, but instead her mouth fell open in silence as she came all over Junho’s invasive fingers. After twitching in pleasure for an imperceptible length of time, she finally drew a breath and let out a girlish whimper of satisfaction. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly he could bring her to orgasm.

“My turn, slut.” He commanded, and watched as his best friend’s girlfriend obediently took his big cock in both hands and got to work.

“Stop calling me that. I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me alone and go to sleep.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm!”

“So it has nothing to do with your secret infatuation with me?” Junho loved to press her buttons while she serviced him.

“Pffft. You wish. This is purely transactional,” she shot back, matter-of-factly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sexy. Ahh... that’s nice. Can you get it wet for me though?”

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Where’s your lotion?”

“I’m fresh out.”

“Ugh. If it will make this go faster.” She leaned over and drooled a large strand of saliva to coat his shaft before pumping his length diligently with a renewed effort.

“Hooohh... Fuck yeah, just like that.” he encouraged. His roommate was using both hands in unison, fervently stimulating him with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

“Why are you always so damn hard?” She asked, genuinely curious about his libido which was foreign to her.

“Because I’m a fucking alpha,” he laughed as she scoffed at his cliché arrogance. “I don’t know... I’ve always had this massive sex drive. Kinda seems like yours isn’t too far off.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Ryujin argued.

“I think you’re wrong. Two peas in a pod, lady,” he joked as he playfully grabbed at her bra-clad tits.

She couldn’t hold back a brief smile as she flinched, protesting, “Hey, stop!” She squeezed his cock in retaliation, before spitting on it to reapply her lubrication.

“What about Tae? Something tells me he’s not... Keeping up with your needs?”

Ryujin could feel her cheeks blushing. “What? No. No, he’s - It’s fine.”

Junho raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well that sounds... Fine,” he teased.

“Whatever. Okay, let’s see that big alpha load already. My arms are getting tired,” she said sarcastically, jerking his big dick enthusiastically.

“Anything for my hot little cumslut,” he muttered.

Before long, the roomate was grunting with delight as he spurted his fat load into the air, much of the sticky substance covering Ryujin’s slick fingers and slender forearms.

“God damn, baby... You’re getting really good at that...” He cooed.

“You’re disgusting...” She said, suppressing a grin as she messily wiped her slimy hands off onto his thigh. Without even fully cleaning up, she nestled into her spot on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

—

Junho was growing bolder, knowing the shift that was occurring within Ryujin after several nights of giving in to his advances. While cleaning up some dishes in the kitchen after dinner, he noticed her slip behind him to get something out of the cupboard. He glanced back and observed her stretching for a glass on the top shelf. She was already in her night wear: the usual flimsy camisole and skin-tight short shorts. Her toned midriff was exposed as she reached for the receptacle. Junho noted that Tae was focused on his video game with his back turned to them, and silently closed the gap between him and the alluring woman. He pressed into her back and gently held her against him with a hand on her hip.

“Let me get that for you,” he said casually, easily reaching over her and grabbing the glass.

“Hey!” Ryujin whispered harshly, caught off guard and suddenly trapped between the counter and the large frame behind her. “What the hell are you doing!?” She squirmed against him and could feel his hardness poking against the small of her back.

Junho ignored her question, and smelled her hair, firmly holding her still. “God you smell good. Are you excited to cum all over my fingers again tonight?” He murmured softly into her ear, one hand inching down towards her mound. His cock inflated rapidly as he imagined her writhing in pleasure on his bed again.

“Stop! Seriously! You’re gonna-”

“Make you too wet before you say goodnight to Tae?” He interrupted, teasing her verbally as well as with his fingers, which were now pressing against her clit and ever so slightly drawing circles.

“No! Ngh... Junho, please stop... He’s gonna see us...” She pleaded as quietly as she could. Even over her shorts, his firm touch was starting to feel good. She didn’t have the strength to escape his powerful hold and a sense of helplessness washed over her. Her legs started to weaken as her pussy responded to his aggression, growing juicier by the second. Junho’s free hand had traveled up her torso and was lightly grazing her nipples, which were stiff and sensitive.

She knew there was nothing she could do short of calling to her boyfriend for help, but she couldn’t do that. What if he discovered how much their brutish roommate’s groping was turning her on, she thought. Ryujin cursed her body for once again betraying her and giving into the man’s forceful assault. Instead of insisting that he stop, she was becoming jello in his arms, silently accepting that he was going to do what he wanted to her.

“I’m so fucking hard right now... Maybe I should just fuck you right here,” Junho threatened through clenched teeth.

As she lost the battle for control over her body, her mind began to slip as well. She imagined the muscular jerk tugging her shorts down, and thrusting his huge cock into her warm, welcoming cunt. Surely he wouldn’t go that far, she thought. He wouldn’t take the last bit of her innocence then and there in the kitchen and fuck her needy pussy right behind her boyfriend. The vision was beyond tantalizing, and her dripping sex ached for more.

Ryujin surrendered to his dominant touch, and just as she felt an orgasm building, Junho released his grip and shuffled back to the sink. His dismount was so jarring that she nearly groaned in frustration at the instantaneous loss of pleasure. She desperately needed that climax, and could think of nothing else.

“Asshole,” she muttered as she stomped past him, heading straight for his bedroom.

“I just got insanely tired... Goodnight, babe,” she announced to Tae, pausing in the doorway for a brief moment to shoot a stern, suggestive look at Junho. The roommate grinned at her mischievously and tucked his erection into his waistband before following her into the room.

“Night...” Tae answered nonchalantly, too engrossed in his game to notice the oddness of what had just occurred. Had he been more observant, he might have perceived his girlfriend’s earlier than usual departure, her flush red cheeks, or the fact that she’d left an unused glass on the kitchen counter.

Junho closed the door behind him to find that Ryujin was already naked from the waist down and had jumped into his bed. Her pussy was out in the open and glistening with her juices. It was the first time he had actually laid eyes on it, and he wasn’t surprised to find that it appeared pristine. His cock swelled with anticipation as he drank in the sight of her unprotected delicate pinkness.

“Are you gonna finish what you started you fucking perv?” She taunted him while lightly teasing herself.

She was still right on the brink of an orgasm, and her inhibitions had melted completely. Ryujin could’ve easily just finished the job herself, but she craved what she knew would be a far more potent explosion if Junho dug his strong fingers into her. She longed for him to hold her down and force it out of her. She was discovering that the loss of control when he dominated her was a major turn on.

Her expectations were subverted as he swiftly moved between her parted legs and dove face-first into her tender folds. She opened her mouth to oppose his daring action, but her voice got stuck in her throat as his strong tongue graced her sensitive cunt. Her hands reflexively shot out and grasped his hair, holding on for what she knew would be a wild ride. The handsome man worked his tongue expertly, stroking the full length of her pussy with firm, steady licks. She had to stop herself from moaning too loudly, remembering her boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall.

Junho kept her right on the edge, pausing every so often to catch his breath and plant kisses right on her swollen clit. His alluring roommate tasted better than he could’ve imagined. The sweet and tangy flavor was intoxicating and caused all of his blood to rush to his cock. He tested her carefully, paying attention to how her body reacted to his work. Stiffening his tongue, he prodded and teased her entrance, which felt incredibly tight. No doubt, it would feel amazing wrapped around his dick. He wasn’t sure he would be able to prevent himself from penetrating her any longer. The urge was ramping up with each passing second; his instincts becoming harder to ignore.

“Pleeease!” Ryujin whispered in desperation. She was right on the cusp of a big one, but her roommate wouldn’t let her have it. He had her firmly pinned down, legs spread wide as he carefully teased her gushing pussy. When she felt she was one lick away from cumming, he would shift his focus, kissing and gently biting a path away from her aching sex. He was clearly toying with her, and taking the opportunity to sample every inch of her exposed lower half.

Junho couldn’t help but grin as he feasted on the begging girlfriend. Her cute, wanting pleas for more were music to his ears. He took his time, lightly dragging his teeth along her flawless, taut skin whenever he needed her to cool down. “Mmmm... Tastes so good... You like how I tease your cheating little pussy, baby?”

Ryujin groaned in frustration as his hot breath tickled her throbbing clit. “Ugggh... I need to cum soooo badly...”

He prodded her once, flattening his tongue and quickly withdrawing it. “Like this?”

“Yesssss! Oh my god... Why are you doing this to me?” She wanted to scream at him, but knew it was too risky. She hoped the T.V. in the next room was loud enough to cover up her whimpers.

“Because you’re a naughty cheating girlfriend, and you need to be taught a lesson.”

“Ngggh!” She thrust her hips in an attempt to get the last bit of stimulation she needed, but he stopped her just in time, pressing her down into the bed more firmly.

“You resisted me, so now you have to wait until I think you deserve to cum.”

“Fuck, Junho...”

“Well? Do you deserve it?”

“Mhmm! Please!”

“I don’t know about that...” Junho flashed his teeth mischievously and bit the bony peak of her hip.

“Ahhh! Just give it to me! I Deserve it!”

“You’ll be a good cheating slut from now on?”

She hated him more than ever for forcing her to say such submissive things, but she was well beyond the point of having enough resistance left for mere words. “I’ll be good!”

“A good what?”

“A good - Ngh - cheating s-slut!” Ryujin couldn’t stay silent anymore. The long build up was about to hit the breaking point. “Ohhh... Oh fuuuck yesss... Oh my god... I’m about to-Ahh!” She gasped sharply as Junho abruptly stopped stimulating her.

“I’ll make you cum, slut, but I’m going to fuck you after,” he stated, still inches from her soaking pussy.

“Nooo. No, we can’t. Ugh! Pleeeease!” The frustrated woman bucked her hips and pulled at his hair, desperate for release. “Fucking pleeease make me cum,” she continued, her orgasm simmering just below the surface. She needed it more than anything, but had just enough sense left to stop him from taking her fully.

“Anything but that-Oh!”

He stoked the fire with another quick lash of his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to finish her off. Ryujin’s hands left his head and moved to her burning sex, but he deftly caught them with his own, pinning her arms down on either side of her.

“Beg me to fuck you...” He persisted.

“That’s too far! Please, anything else!”

Her mind was racing, searching for a way to convince the withholding jerk.

“I’ll suck your cock! Please! Make me cum and I’ll suck you off!” She blurted out the offer, which she hastily rationalized was a fair trade given the current predicament, though she wasn’t sure where the idea came from.

“Deal,” Junho agreed simply, dipping his face back down to resume his feast. He wasn’t hell-bent on rushing sex with her that night, and was elated to hear her depraved suggestion to service him with her hot little mouth. He released one of her wrists and drove two fingers into her cunt while tonguing her clit like a feral beast.

Immediately, Ryujin’s tight hole constricted and her back arched as her long awaited climax finally popped.

“Ohhhfffuuuuck!”

She cried out in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into Junho’s skull as she clenched him tightly between her thighs. The pleasure-filled girlfriend grinded her pussy against her roommate’s face for what felt like the lengthiest, most intense orgasm of her life, with no regard for the fact that a thin wall was all that separated her unfaithful act from her clueless boyfriend.

When she could finally muster the control to open her eyes, she was greeted by her roommate’s manly visage. His chiseled jaw was slick with her juices and his eyes glowed with a predatory flare that sent a shiver down her spine. She watched as he rose to his knees and peeled off his underwear, allowing his massive cock to spring into view. It dawned on her what she had agreed to moments prior, and she didn’t bother putting up a fight. She was about to have that fat piece of masculine meat in her mouth, and she was secretly thrilled about it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ryujin nearly leapt into the air like a startled cat upon hearing the sharp knocks on Junho’s bedroom door.

“Babe?” Tae asked from just outside.

She was frozen in indecision. Maybe he would just assume she was asleep and go away, she thought.

“I know you’re awake. I heard noises a minute ago.”

“Uh-Just a sec!” Ryujin scrambled off of the bed and looked around frantically for her shorts. Her heart was racing as she tried to brace herself for what would surely be a messy confrontation. He had heard her. It was all over. She had really fucked up this time. She tugged her shorts up and took a deep breath, noting that Junho had gotten under the covers and was in his usual sleeping position. She slowly opened the door, her face red-hot with shame, and met Tae’s suspicious gaze.

“You left your phone out here,” he muttered, presenting the device to her.

“Oh... Oops! T-thank you,” she stammered nervously.

“Are you okay?” He reached out and tested her forehead with his palm. “Oh my God. You’re burning up!”

“I am?” Ryujin couldn’t think straight in her panic. “I mean yeah... Now that you mention it-I don’t feel right. Maybe that’s why I was so tired...” She was suddenly hyper aware of the light sweat on her forehead and the slickness of Junho’s saliva between her thighs.

“Well it didn’t sound like you were sleeping...” Tae leaned over to get a peek into the dimly lit bedroom. His roommate appeared to be asleep.

“You just woke me up. Maybe I was talking in my sleep or something?” It was a poor excuse at best, but she crossed her fingers and silently prayed that he would let it go.

“That’s weird... Well if you’re sick you should really get some good rest in your own bed, don’t you think?” He asked, gently rubbing her arm.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right...”

She was more than a little disappointed, but given how fortunate she was to have not been caught, there was no sense in arguing the point. She followed her boyfriend back to their room, and fell asleep to the thought that she had somehow gotten herself into a situation where she now owed her arrogant roommate a blowjob.

Ryujin stirred the next morning to a rustling in her bed. She felt a weight on top of her and opened her heavy eyelids to find Junho’s massive cock staring back at her. She attempted to scoot up and away from him, only to discover that her torso and arms were pinned to the mattress beneath the heavy intruder.

“What the-You can’t be in here!” The young woman was trapped, her eyes darting around the space to confirm that this was indeed the room she shared with her boyfriend.

“I’ve been rock hard since you abandoned me last night. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Junho responded, clearly enjoying her helpless squirming.

“B-but Tae-”

“Shhh... He left to get you medicine, since you’re sooo sick...” He teased sarcastically, gently prodding her plump lips with his enlarged tip. “Time to pay your dues. You better make me cum before he gets back, or I’ll consider it a violation of the deal.”

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow night? This is too risky...” Ryujin tried to reason with the aggressor, but she could already feel herself becoming wet with anticipation. She knew he was going to take what he wanted from her, and couldn’t deny how much that turned her on. The warm, musky meat against her face was demanding her attention, and her mind flickered back to the potent orgasm its owner had brought her to the previous night. Maybe if she was proficient enough to satisfy him quickly, there would be enough time for him to work his magic on her again, she hoped. The pinned girlfriend’s tongue protruded from her lips, and made contact with her roommate’s cock head.

Junho couldn’t help but moan in relief as her wet tongue graced his needy manhood. Another invisible barrier was crumbling around them as his best friend’s girl willingly tasted his hard dick for the first time. She looked adorable, hyper-focused on exploring the ridged surface with little licks here and there. He had the urge to just jam himself into her mouth and fuck her face to completion, but held back in favor of the tortuous but enticing teasing she was putting him through.

“God damn, Ryujin...” He muttered in ecstasy.

She flashed her teeth briefly, flattered by his infatuation, and slowly parted her lips around his velvety skin. Without missing a beat, her roommate began easing his way into her welcoming mouth. As her wet warmth enveloped him inch by inch, her eyes followed the length of his chiseled torso upwards until she met his gaze. As their pupils locked, she felt his thick cock twitch against her tongue, and another deep moan escaped him. His expression of intense desire and hunger made her pussy ache. “Mmmm...” She cooed involuntarily; her mouth now completely full.

Junho began softly thrusting his hips back and forth, aiding Ryujin’s efforts as she repeatedly lifted her head to stimulate him. She had little leverage from her current position, but worked his sensitive organ with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She wanted to do a good job for him; to surprise him with how skilled she could be. He’d been responsible for giving her multiple mind-blowing climaxes, and it felt right to return the favor.

As if he could read her mind, he murmured, “Fuck yes... Ahh, you’re being such a good little cocksucker for me...”

She squirmed beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as a sting of desire accompanied his words. Is that what I am now, she thought, his little cocksucker? She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that the whole situation was immensely hot, and that she wanted more.

Junho detected the lust and submission in her eyes, which encouraged him. “Mmm... Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be the sexy little slut you’re meant to be?”

Ryujin had never felt so degraded, and though she didn’t want him to stop, she couldn’t allow him to think she had fully given up all control.

“I’m not a slut, you ass. You’re making me do this,” she said defiantly before allowing him to stuff her mouth again.

“And you’re loving it,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she gargled through his warm meat. She lightly dug her nails into his calves, her forearms still secured in place under his weight.

“You want me to get off of your arms so you can play with yourself?” Junho grinned mischievously as he reached behind him and pulled the blanket off of her lower half. She clamped her thighs together in an effort to defend against him, but his strong fingers slipped into the crevice and found their way to her slick pussy.

Ryujin reflexively moaned as he felt his way around her delicate folds. As usual, her body was betraying her, undermining any attempts to deny that she was enjoying his advances. As Junho toyed with her, she began bucking her hips against him, craving more stimulation. He grazed her entrance again and again, never lingering long enough to let the pleasure build. She hated how much of an effect he had on her, her brow furrowed in frustration as his thick shaft slid in and out of her stretched mouth.

Suddenly, he lifted himself off of her and fell onto his back. “Let’s see you put that slutty little mouth to use,” he practically growled, his rigid saliva-covered cock pointing at the ceiling. “Get on your hands and knees.”

“Fuck you,” Ryujin mumbled, complying with his order anyway and positioning herself to continue the taboo blowjob. Her more conservative inner voice was screaming at her for letting this outsider boss her around in the private bed she shared with her boyfriend.

“Ass up, so I can play with you,” he commanded, firmly gripping her thigh and pulling her backside toward him. She moaned again, revealing that she was enjoying his manhandling. She felt like a weightless doll as he effortlessly shifted her body around to his liking. Junho couldn’t help but continue to push her boundaries. He smacked her exposed ass cheek with a loud crack that echoed throughout the room.

“OW! WHAT TH-” Ryujin’s cry of protest was sharply interrupted as his large hand grabbed the back of her head and guided her down onto his thick cock. She gagged and dug her nails into his thigh as he jabbed the back of her throat. One hand wrapped itself in her hair and pulled her back enough to allow her to breathe, while the other began rubbing up and down the length of her creamy pussy. “You fuckin-Ggghhh!”

Junho chewed his bottom lip as he aggressively forced the young girlfriend back onto his dick. He started jerking off his considerable length with her mouth, all while finger fucking her tight pussy and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb.

With each push downwards, Ryujin grew more accustomed to his girth, and her gags gave way to muffled, throaty moans. He was completely having his way with her, and there was little she could do to stop it-not that she wanted to. At first his abrupt assault was appalling, but she quickly warmed up to it. Her juices ran freely down her thighs as he pumped two of his broad fingers in and out of her squelching entrance. Her throat relaxed, and little by little more of his shaft passed through her lips. If she hadn’t felt like a slut before, she was beginning to feel like one now. She had never felt so utterly objectified and depraved. Her ass still stung from his harsh slap, but she found herself craving another. Her emotions and desires were a confusing, chaotic soup, but before she could dwell on them, a powerful orgasm erupted within her.

In a move that subverted even her own expectations, she forcefully pushed herself up, the slimy cock flopping out of her mouth, and screamed, “Oh my God, Junhonn! I’m fucking cumming so hard! Spank me again!” A second later, a sharp jolt of tantalizing pain ran through her as he indulged, and then another. “OH! FUCK YEAHHH!” She exclaimed as she rode the mind-bending climax, tightly gripping his throbbing cock with both hands. He continued to punish her plump backside and ravage her quivering pussy while she shrieked wildly in ecstasy.

The scene was amongst the hottest things Junho had ever witnessed, and he felt that his throbbing cock was on the brink of exploding. He quickly grabbed Ryujin’s hips, twisting her onto her back and straddled her writhing body while he stroked his manhood to completion. With his free hand, he ripped her flimsy top down from her chest, tearing it and exposing her breasts. She yelped in surprise, but was too lost in pleasure to care. With a drawn out grunt from the towering man, a viscous, milky rope shot out and splashed against her cheek. Another landed soundly along the bridge of her nose, and the third across her agape lips, mostly falling into her mouth and coating her tongue. The several remaining blasts of his dense semen barely waned in strength, splattering all over her tits, and painting her torso and tattered shirt. By the time the last few dribbles trickled down her tummy, Ryujin was glazed to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

For several minutes the pair remained frozen in place, breathing heavily and basking in the aftermath of what had just occurred. The fact that she had just willingly sucked her roommate’s big cock and screamed like a slut for him while he covered her in his cum barely seemed to matter at that moment. As her chest rose and fell, she could feel the copious semen dripping down her skin and soaking into the bedding.

Junho was the first to speak, “You ever been plastered like that?”

“Never,” she answered weakly.

“It’s a good look for you,” he added, scooting himself off of her and reaching for his phone. He aimed the camera at her and joked, “Say I’m Junho’s little cum slut.”

“Fuck off!” She couldn’t help but giggle a bit, shielding her face with her open palm. He held the screen out to her, and her jaw dropped as she processed the obscene image on display. It took a full second for Ryujin to recognize the naked woman lewdly sprawled out and coated in jizz in the picture. Even though she had just watched him take the photo, she couldn’t believe the unbelievably slutty looking figure was her. It was also hard to miss how incredibly satisfied her expression appeared. Despite having just cheated on her boyfriend again, with this cocky, manhandling brute no less, Ryujin felt more carefree than she had in a long while. That is, until the sound of the front door opening could be heard through the wall.

“Shit!” She whispered through clenched teeth. “Not again!” Her eyes flickered back and forth indecisively as the door closed loudly and footsteps drew near. Junho sprung into action, scooping her up and repositioning her onto the bed, before pulling the thick comforter over both of them and laying as flat as he could next to her. Ryujin plucked at the covers hurriedly, trying to conceal any shapes, and ducked her face under the blanket as well.

“You awake babe?” Tae asked softly as he entered the dimly lit bedroom.

“Barely... Ugh... Can you please let me sleep a little more?” Ryujin tried her very best to sound natural, but her heart was pounding so hard it was deafening.

“Of course. I got some stuff you should take though-”

“No! I mean... Please leave me be for now. I appreciate you though! I’ll be up soon okay?” She stammered dismissively. If her boyfriend saw her now, there would be no way to explain the shiny globs of cum that still covered her. There was also the issue of getting Junho out of her bedroom without him noticing. She had to think fast.

“Alright. Well I’ll check on you soon,” Tae said.

“Oh, um... Babe? Could you please check my car for my phone charger?” She improvised.

“You can just use mine-”

“No, I need mine please,” she insisted, not sure how to justify it.

“Uh, okay then,” the boyfriend chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryujin held her breath and waited for the apartment to clear. The second the front door closed, she threw the bedding off of her and scrambled towards the foot of the bed. She felt something wrap tightly around her ankle, and she was jerked back towards her roommate, who wrapped his large arms around her.

“Dude!” She yelled as he groped her luscious, sticky tits.

“Round two?” He asked, grinning mischievously and dropping a hand down to her unprotected mound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Get the fuck out of my room!” She demanded as she tried to wriggle free from his hold. His fingers were already inside of her again, rummaging around in her still sopping wet pussy. “Seriously! Nghhh-Please!”

“I’ll go, but I want to hear you admit how much you loved being my naughty little cum canvas,” he grumbled into her ear while stroking her clit and pinching her nipple.

“Hnnngh... Please... He’s gonna be back any minute-”

“So say it. I don’t care if he sees us.”

“You’re such a-ffffuck-ing ass-ohhh...” Ryujin knew she had no choice. “Fine... I Ioved it...” She had to get away from him before her brain decided the growing climax would be worth the risk.

“Loved what?”

“Ugh... Being your-Being... covered in all your... cum...” She admitted it shamefully.

“It was my pleasure.” Junho immediately released her and strode out of the room, fully naked and as smug as ever. Ryujin followed soon after, ducking into the bathroom and jumping into the shower. Before even attempting to scrub the semen off of her skin, her hands were between her legs. Her sex ached for more attention from her roommate, and she lost count of how many times she got herself off under the scalding water, the potent flavor of his salty seed still on her tongue.

******

Ryujin was sipping a hot, bitter coffee in the back room of a small clothing store, mentally preparing to face another tedious shift of her part-time gig. It was an early weekday morning, and she would likely be responsible for the more boring parts of the job given that there were seldom any customers at this time of day. She could faintly hear her bubbly manager, Amber, chatting away with someone out on the floor, which was surprising given that they had just opened the shop. After tossing the styrofoam cup into the trash can, Ryujin yawned and opened the door to see what all the fuss was about.

Amber, from the looks of it, was in her natural habitat, flirting with some guy who had no doubt accidentally wandered into her trap. The young woman was very well put together, always dawning flawless makeup, in contrast to Ryujin, who was more likely to let her natural beauty shine through. Amber couldn’t help herself around attractive men, and had a reputation for having flings at the drop of a dime. Ryujin watched her touch the tall man’s bicep as she giggled about whatever it was they were discussing. As she drew nearer, she felt as though she recognized that bicep. Then the man turned to her, and to her surprise, it was Junho.

“Hey, Ryujin!” He greeted her cheerfully.

It took her a minute to process his sudden presence in her usually private world of the store. “H-Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I was going to try out this new gym that opened down the street, and then I remembered you mentioned that this was the place you worked at,” he explained, crossing his arms and smiling widely.

Amber appeared a little dismayed that the attention had suddenly shifted away from her. “You guys know each other?”

“Yeah! We live together!” Junho answered.

“Wha-Oh, so this is your boyfriend?” She inquired, clearly disappointed to learn that her chances with him had suddenly plummeted.

“No... he’s just our roommate.” Ryujin replied quickly, starting to worry that Junho would reveal something about the complicated nature of their relationship. It was only two days ago that she had his big cock down her throat before he shot his cum all over her.

“Oh good, so you’re single!” Amber flashed her perfect teeth and planted her palm on his broad chest. She did not know the meaning of subtle.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, realizing an opportunity was developing before his eyes. “Can’t tie this guy down,” Junho said jokingly, flexing his muscles and getting an easy laugh out of his new fan.

“Well you can tie me down...” Amber commented seductively. “Give me your number, hot stuff.”

Ryujin rolled her eyes and turned to leave the sickening interaction.

“See you at home, Ryujin!” Junho called out to her.

“Whatever,” she replied under her breath, grabbing her clipboard off of the counter to start her daily tasks. Ryujin tried to focus on her job, but couldn’t ignore the negative emotions that were rising to the surface. The image of her slutty manager’s hands all over her roommate plagued her mind. First of all, he and I are not dating... I have a boyfriend... They can fuck like rabbits for all I care... The thought did not sit well with her. Ryujin must have muttered the phrase “Who cares” to herself a thousand times throughout the day in an attempt to distance herself from the feelings.

As she readied herself to end the shift, Ryujin noticed Amber smiling ear to ear while she tapped away at her phone. “Oh my God, Ryujin! How come you never told me about this guy? He’s so fucking hot. And guess what? We’re going out tonight!”

Ryujin’s heart sank to her stomach. She’d been secretly hoping that Junho would never actually entertain the idea of spending time with this woman, but apparently she was wrong. They were already set to meet up that night, and knowing them, would almost certainly end up hooking up. She wondered what that would mean for her plans, a night she was meant to spend in his bed. Ryujin tried her best to act naturally, but couldn’t hold back her opposition. “Oh really? After just meeting him?”

“Well, yeah! He seemed super into me, don’t you think?”

“I guess... He’s kind of a jerk though. You might not want to waste your time,” Ryujin explained, secretly ashamed that she was meddling in their plans.

“He seemed nice enough to me,” Amber said dismissively. She wasn’t about to let her coworker rain on her parade. “And that body... Mmm! I bet he has a big dick too. I’m pretty sure I saw some serious bulge going on down there.”

“I dunno. Small dick energy if you ask me,” Ryujin muttered.

“Well I guess I’ll find out soon!” Amber winked. “What do you think I should wear?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Ryujin gathered her things and strolled out of the store in a hurry, her jealousy hitting a tipping point.

******

That night as she and Tae ate dinner, Ryujin found it nearly impossible to focus on the conversation with her boyfriend. She kept eyeing the front door, hoping that Junho would show up alone, having canceled his date. She hated herself for letting the scenario affect her so much. The complicated feelings were a harsh reminder that she had gone way too far with her roommate, and that she needed some normalcy to return to her recently chaotic life.

After cleaning up, the couple cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It wasn’t long before the door to the apartment swung open, and Junho noisily entered, followed closely by a giggling Amber. Ryujin audibly groaned, but luckily the sounds of the film covered up her show of disappointment. As the newcomers shuffled towards the bedroom, Ryujin’s gaze met her roommate’s and the eye contact lingered for an extra beat. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to convey, and her conflicted feelings resulted in a mostly blank expression. He simply grinned, and continued leading his date to his room. Amber waved and said hello to the two of them, winking at Ryujin before disappearing into the private space.

“Wow, just like old times, eh?” Tae said to his girlfriend, clearly elated for the disruption in the night’s sleeping arrangement. “He hasn’t brought a girl home in a while. Guess that means we can stay together tonight.”

“Yeah...” Ryujin was distracted, knowing what was about to happen on the other side of the wall.

“Babe?” Tae lightly shook her.

“Yeah! It’s good!” She agreed simply, snapping out of it. Nothing positive would come out of eavesdropping, she decided. This is good, she told herself. This is normal. Normal is good. She pressed herself into her boyfriend’s hold and returned her attention to the movie, determined to accept the circumstances and enjoy a regular night of being a faithful girlfriend like she was supposed to. Ryujin’s new resolve soothed her conscience, and she felt at peace for the next few minutes.

As the on screen entertainment transitioned into a more silent scene, noises could be heard coming from Junho’s room. “Oh! Oh! Yes! Fuuuck Yes!” Amber suddenly cried out. Ryujin and Tae pretended not to hear it, hoping the movie sounds would pick back up again soon. “Oh my God! Ah! Yeah! Fuck!” It was hard to ignore the woman’s yelps of pleasure, and Ryujin found her mind wandering. It sounded like Junho was fucking her hard, and she could picture his toned body slamming into her. She wondered what position they were in. Is it missionary, or is he taking her from behind? The girlfriend secretly hoped there was no passion, just raw sex. The jealous feelings returned with a vengeance as she was forced to listen to her ditsy manager get railed by her roommate’s big dick. She was getting to experience it in a way Ryujin hadn’t, but that was by her own choice, she reminded herself. She wasn’t supposed to wonder what his massive cock would feel like inside of her. Despite all of these mixed emotions, the thought of it in action in the next room was turning her on.

“Hoy fucking shiiiiiit!” One last exclamation could be heard before the speakers finally covered up the debauchery. Ryujin realized that she could channel her arousal back into the right direction, and placed her hand on her boyfriend’s crotch. She kissed his neck and lightly rubbed him in an attempt to bring his member to life.

“I need you to fuck me,” she whispered into Tae’s ear, smiling as she felt his cock hardening. He turned his head and kissed her, feebly grabbing at her tit.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, grinning at his ravenous girlfriend. “Is it...” His eyes darted in the direction of Junho’s room. “I thought you hated those... sounds.”

“I do, but I just-ugh. Just shut up and fuck me okay?” Ryujin started hastily unzipping his shorts.

“Right here? Babe we-” Tae’s hesitation shattered as his eager girlfriend fished his erection out and took its entire length into her warm mouth. His mouth hung agape in shock as she slid him in and out of her, twisting the saliva-coated base of his cock in her fist. The couple rarely dabbled in oral sex, and here she was enthusiastically enveloping his entire dick. “Ohhh, that feels so good babe...”

Ryujin knew he had a habit of finishing quickly, so her time was limited. She slowed her movements gradually, making eye contact, and released his spongy head with a loud pop. Without a word, the horny young woman took her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom. Amber could be heard moaning again as they exited the living room. Ryujin pushed Tae onto his back, removed her shorts, and climbed on top of him. She slid her thong to the side, and just before impaling herself, he protested, “Wait! Condom!”

“Babe, it’s okay, just pull out,” she pleaded, the heat of the moment slipping through her fingers.

“No, it won’t feel safe. Sorry, just a sec.” Tae slid out from under her and grabbed a packet from his drawer. He fumbled with it for a moment, and had to jerk himself off a bit to get fully hard again.

Ryujin waited patiently, but knew the likelihood of him actually satisfying her was slim to none. She could still faintly hear her manager squealing with delight across the apartment, and wondered if she had already cum for Junho. It was probably a matter of how many times, rather than if it had happened, she thought. “Tae, please get over here and give it to me,” she requested again.

“Okay, ready!” He took his place on his back again, and Ryujin climbed on top of him, finally sinking a hard cock into her depths. It felt great, and they both moaned at the joint stimulation. She put her hands on his chest and began gyrating her hips, finding the rhythm she needed to start building the pleasure. As she rode him, her mind kept traveling to the other bedroom, and she couldn’t prevent the intrusive thought of how different it must feel to be stuffed full of her roommate’s much larger tool. The thought of that monstrosity stretching her open was too wickedly alluring to ignore at the moment, and she allowed the fantasy of being with Junho instead to consume her attention.

He would probably have his big, strong hands all over me right now while I bounced on his fat cock. Hell, he’d probably throw me off of him so that he could have his way with me first. The daydream was fueling Ryujin’s arousal to new heights, and she was bucking into her boyfriend harder and harder.

Tae stared at his sexy girlfriend in awe - her perfectly toned tummy and full, perky tits dancing above him - he could hardly believe she was his. Her sultry expression was one of pure lust. She looked so cute and determined to get off with him. It was all too much, and he felt his climax already rearing its head. “So good... Oh...” He began tensing up.

Ryujin knew the telltale signs of her boyfriend’s completion, and quickly stopped grinding him. “Not yet babe!” She lifted herself off of him, but it was too late, and she watched in disappointment as his dick twitched and spewed a few globs of semen into the condom.

“Fuuuck... I’m sorry...” He muttered shamefully.

“It’s okay... It’s okay... Just... Can you lick me?” Ryujin fell onto her back and spread her legs, her fingers teasing her clit. There was no way she was giving up this orgasm.

“Sure!” Tae was relieved that he could still help his girlfriend get to the finish line, and crawled to her soaking pussy for a taste. He clumsily ran his tongue around the area, and jabbed at her entrance a few times. “Mmm is that good?”

“It’s... Fine. Yeah, just keep licking right there... Mhmm...” She closed her eyes and focused on stimulating her clit. His tongue was better than nothing, but it was night and day when compared to what Junho had done to her. God... The way he held me down and ate me like I was his last meal... Groping me and making me squirm while forcing me to admit that I was his cheating slut...

“Ngh! Ohhhhh...” Ryujin moaned while picturing her roommate dominating her. She rubbed herself with fervor and ground her sex into Tae’s face. She was almost there. “Beg me to fuck you.” Junho’s words rang in her mind. “Please fuck me,” she whimpered under her breath. A scalding wave of pleasure washed over her as she orgasmed, her jaw dropping and back arching. She pressed firmly onto her clit, tightly trapping her fingers and her boyfriend between her quivering thighs. She drew breath slowly and shakily as the endorphins ran their course, eventually subsiding and leaving her limp and sweaty.

“Holy shit, babe... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum that hard,” Tae said admiringly, with a dash of pride at thinking he was solely responsible.

“Yeah... Sometimes...” She cooed, still lost in the aftermath.

“Well, goodnight.” He kissed her lips.

“Goodnight...” Ryujin drifted to sleep effortlessly, even though the sounds of her roommate and coworker still going at it could be heard in the distance.

******

Ryujin woke the next morning before the sunlight had even pierced her bedroom window. With an anxious pit in her stomach, she checked her work schedule and was reminded that she was scheduled to open the store with Amber again that morning. She contemplated calling out sick, dreading the awkward interaction that would surely occur upon her arrival, but decided to be brave and face the day. She quietly slipped out of her room, carefully listening for any indication that the woman was still in her apartment. All was silent, so she hopped into the shower and hurriedly readied herself to leave.

She tip-toed through the front door, relieved that no one else had seemed to have stirred yet, and left for work. Ryujin spent her short commute mentally rehearsing what she might say to her manager, or how to avoid her. Undoubtedly she would want to gush about her experience with Junho, which Ryujin was not ready to hear. She had gotten enough of an earful about it already. Despite arriving quite a bit early, she was surprised to see Amber’s car was already in the parking lot.

“Hey, Amber,” she said, reluctantly greeting the woman. Might as well try to play nice, she figured.

“Hey...” Amber replied back, with no enthusiasm and a hint of melancholy.

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. This was not at all how she expected this interaction to go. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...” Amber was avoiding eye contact and fiddling with a tablet.

“Not gonna lie... I kind of expected you to be in a better mood this morning,” Ryujin stated, now filled with curiosity.

“Heh...”

“You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Ugh... No big deal. You were right though, he’s kind of a jerk.” Amber said, finally looking up from her arbitrary task.

“Oh.” Ryujin wasn’t sure what to say next. What could Junho have possibly done for her to have this reaction, especially after a night of what sounded like amazing sex. “It sounded like... I mean, weren’t you guys...”

“He’s a great fuck if that’s what you’re getting at. Like, crazy good...”

“Then what happened? Just his general attitude got to you, or?”

“No... I can deal with that...” Amber muttered, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well?” Ryujin couldn’t let it go. The mystery was too captivating at that point.

Amber turned bright red and sighed. “Fine. He... Don’t tell anyone, but... He said your name. Right in the middle of what I thought was the best sex of all time, he called me Ryujin.”

“Oh... I’m-Sorry...” Ryujin placed her hand on her coworker’s shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to react outwardly, but well aware that she couldn’t allow her true emotions to escape her just yet. She was equally shocked and elated to hear of her roommate’s mistake.

“It’s fine. It was just a stupid hook up. I’ll get over it,” Amber insisted in a show of maturity.

“That sucks though. I’m sorry that happened.” Ryujin tried to reassure her.

“Thanks... That guy is obviously into you, Ryujin. I was picking up on some vibes when he was here yesterday too, but I guess I didn’t want to believe in them.”

“No... I’m sure it was just a mindless slip of the tongue,” she said, not believing her own words. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, I don’t wanna tell you how to live your life, girl, but for your sake I hope your man fucks half as good as that stud.”

The women did not discuss the subject any further, and began independently getting their daily tasks done. About an hour later, Ryujin was organizing a shelf when she heard unintelligible voices conversing, followed by Amber loudly announcing, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Just drop it, okay? No harm done.” She peered around the corner and saw her manager, blushing and walking towards her. Junho was behind her, looking a little less cool and collected than usual. “It’s just embarrassing,” Amber whispered as she passed her and headed for the exit. “Now’s a good time to take my lunch break.”

Ryujin approached the tall man with a spring in her step, more than a little excited to see him after hearing what had happened. “Can’t get enough of her, eh?”

Junho chuckled strangely, “Just wanted to say hi I guess.” He wasn’t sure if the women had discussed the fumble, and preferred his roommate knew nothing about it.

Is he being awkward? Ryujin wondered, suppressing a smile at his rare show of vulnerability. She was looking forward to fishing the information out of him. “Looks like she didn’t wanna talk. What could that be about?”

He shrugged. “Dunno...”

“Hm, guess she wasn’t impressed,” she teased, glancing down at his package. She decided it was more fun that he didn’t know that Amber had spilled the beans to her already.

“I think you know that that’s basically impossible,” he defended himself, straightening his posture.

“How would I know that?” Ryujin asked, subconsciously taking a step towards him.

“If you don’t by now, you will in due time,” he replied, closing the distance further.

“Well if you keep bringing random girls home, there won’t be a lot of time for that, will there?” She knew what her comment was suggesting, and worried that it might have been too forward.

“True.” He said simply.

Ryujin’s heart rate quickened as she took in his scent and felt his eyes scanning her body. She considered the space around her, quickly observing the emptiness of the store, and the security camera that they were in partial view of. “So what can I help you with today? You mentioned you were looking to try on some new pants?” She aimlessly picked up a pair of jeans that were conveniently resting on the shelf beside them, and offered them to him.

“You think these will be a good fit?” He asked, seamlessly slipping into the role of the unfamiliar customer.

“Yeah! Let me show you to the dressing rooms,” she announced. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew what was about to happen. Her eyes darted around again to confirm. There was no one in sight, and she knew for a fact that there weren’t any cameras in the dressing room area, including the common space where the employees would often spend time watching over the rooms and organizing the abandoned garments. She led Junho across the room and into the private alcove. “Here we are, sir,” she said in her professional customer service voice, holding the door open for him and feeling a tingle of excitement as his hard body brushed past her.

“I think I’m gonna need some help, miss,” he eyed her knowingly.

“Oh? What else can I do for you?” Ryujin’s pulse quickened in anticipation.

“I’m just a little sore from the gym, and was hoping you could help me out of these joggers.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that sort of thing is allowed here-Ah!” She was interrupted as Junho’s hand grabbed her slender waist and pulled her into the room. He aggressively pushed the door closed and his large frame pinned her against the wall of the tiny room. Her body was trapped between the cool partition and his warm chest. “I could get into a lot of troub-” Ryujin was once again interrupted, his lips mashing into hers, and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

“Mmmm...” She moaned into the kiss as her defenses vanished, and she offered her tongue to him. His strong hands slowly ran down her back and to her ass, which he then squeezed and used to lift her off of the ground. Still pinned against the wall, she was now at his height, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her firmly and passionately, and she mirrored his intensity. They were basically devouring each other in the cramped space, as if they had both been starved for affection. Ryujin could feel his hardness swelling rapidly against her, like it was threatening to rip through their clothing and penetrate her. She squeezed him into her more tightly, enhancing the friction between their wanting genitals.

Ryujin was the first to break the kiss, panting heavily, and dropped her leg to the ground, which caused Junho to let her down. She could feel her pussy was already soaking wet from the encounter. She found herself wishing to please him in that moment; to prove that she knew how to satisfy him. The young girlfriend dropped to her knees and started to tug at her hung roommate’s waistband until his massive erection sprung out before her eyes. She took his rock hard cock in her soft hand and gave the tip a small peck.

“God, you look like such a hot little slut with my big dick on your face,” Junho admired, resting his meaty appendage along the bridge of her nose, and gliding his smooth shaft ever so slightly along her skin. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “Did you miss me last night?”

“Not as much as you missed me,” she replied, sticking out her tongue and licking up the length of his cock. Junho chuckled and allowed her to take control as she flicked the underside of his head with her tongue and pushed her pursed lips against it. Ryujin slowly allowed him inside, taking in his fat piece of meat one centimeter at a time. At about four inches or so, he hit the back of her throat, and she held him there while her tongue snaked back and forth. She used her hand to spread her saliva down the rest of his length, lightly jerking the base while she bobbed her head on the third that she could fit.

Junho inhaled through his teeth and groaned in pleasure as his roommate serviced him. He took a moment to appreciate the wild turn of events that had gotten him into Ryujin’s lovely mouth that morning. He hadn’t been sure what would come of confronting the women after what had transpired the night before, but he’d felt a strong inclination to show up and figure it out. This outcome was about as well as it could have possibly gone for him, and he allowed himself a minute to get lost in her bright, determined eyes. “Whoofff... You’re getting good at this, baby.” He battled the compulsion to increase the intensity and start fucking her face again, deciding to let her continue proving herself while he relaxed this time around.

Ryujin pulled him out of her mouth with a slurp, and jerked him off with both hands, smiling with her tongue out. “You think?” In no mood to pretend she wasn’t enjoying herself, she genuinely wanted to hear more praise from him. She knew she wasn’t particularly experienced sucking cock, especially when compared with her slutty manager, but secretly hoped she possessed an innate talent that would impress Junho. She had more or less let him have his way during their previous encounter, but she was now in the driver’s seat, and didn’t want to disappoint.

“Definitely... You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up,” he encouraged.

The cheating girlfriend slid the throbbing dick back into her mouth, pleased to hear she was succeeding. She did feel a sense of urgency, remembering where she was, and that Amber could come back at any time. More risky still, a customer might quietly drop in, and they’d probably hear the obscene squelching sounds coming from the small dressing room as she began pumping Junho’s cock with increased enthusiasm.

“Ahh... Fuck yeah... That’s my good little cocksucker... Is it making you all wet to be on your knees like this in public?” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Mhmmm,” she answered with a slight nod. She couldn’t believe how turned on the whole thing was making her. If she’d been told a month ago that she’d be blowing Junho at some random clothing store, she would consider it impossible. The risk of getting caught was another spicy factor that only made the interaction even hotter. Ryujin caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror beside them, noticing her watery eyes and the thick rope of saliva dangling from her chin while her lips stretched to accept the thick manhood. She truly felt like his little cocksucker, and the aching need in her pussy insisted that it was the way to be.

“Fuck, Ryujin... I’m getting close,” Junho mumbled.

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” Ryujin gagged on her roommate’s big dick as it jabbed the back of her throat repeatedly. She realized she would have to swallow his entire load, as she was in no position to be glazed in cum at the moment. Her shift had barely started, and she would have to work the next several hours in whatever state he left her in. Ryujin began mentally preparing herself to handle what would undoubtedly be a massive volume of semen.

“Oh fuck... Just like that, slut...”

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” She could feel him throbbing against her tongue.

“Oh my fucking... Mmmm!” Junho groaned in pleasure as his cock jumped in Ryujin’s tight, wet mouth. A viscous string of salty-sweet seed splashed the back of her throat, and she gagged at the unexpected force of it. Clamping her lips firmly around him, she managed to swallow just in time for another shot of cum to quickly fill the little space there was. She drank it down as swiftly as possible while his big cock pulsed wildly and relentlessly ejaculated into her. Ryujin surprised herself as she managed to mostly contain his impossibly heavy dose, only a small amount dribbling from the corners of her lips.

Junho watched the young girlfriend in a daze as she gulped down the last of his seed, and began sucking and licking his cock clean automatically. She continued to exceed his expectations, and he once again privately counted his blessings. He fantasized about keeping her in that room with him for the rest of the day, or at least for long enough to finally fuck her. That would have to wait, he decided, and he took her hand in his, lifting her to her feet and pulling her against him.

Ryujin lovingly licked away the last remnants of cum from his barely-deflated shaft. His potent flavor overwhelmed all of her senses, and she thought about how many nights she’d seen all of his fluids go to waste. This time, every drop was traveling down to her belly, which, for reasons she didn’t understand, was intensely erotic for her. She felt Junho’s strong hand take hers, and before she knew it, found herself in his arms again. He kissed her firmly, and she reciprocated, the taste of his tongue mixing into the already intoxicating Junho cocktail she was experiencing. She felt his hands roam down her back and slip into her pants. He squeezed her plump ass as their tongues swirled around each other, and her pussy drooled in anticipation. Her roommate’s thick finger traveled further down, disregarding the barrier of her panties, and tunneled its way to her soaking lips.

“Ohhh... Pleeease...” She moaned into his mouth as he lightly traced lines up and down her slick entrance. The last bit of caution she had regarding the setting melted away, as she grinded her sticky pussy into his fingers. Then he withdrew. Slowly, but deliberately, he retracted, and with one last kiss, left her without his touch.

“I’ll take care of you tonight,” he said seductively, and turned to leave.

Ryujin spent the next few minutes composing herself, mustering up every ounce of self-control not to finish herself off. She rehearsed a “normal” smile in the mirror, and strode back out into the store, the taste of her roommate still on her lips.

Ryujin returned home in the evening after a long day of work followed by shopping for materials she would need for her upcoming university classes. She entered the shared apartment to find Tae and Junho about to take a shot of alcohol.

“Heyyy! Just in time!” Her boyfriend, looking more clean-cut than he had in a while, greeted her cheerfully. “Guess what, babe? I landed a job!”

Ryujin’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! That’s great! I didn’t even know you were-”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he explained, handing her a shot glass. “I’ve been in contact with them and had the in-person interview this morning, and they got back to me just a few hours later. The stars just aligned on this one!”

“That’s so awesome! Congrats!” She exclaimed, legitimately happy for him. The trio gulped down their celebratory liquid and enjoyed a couple rounds of a simple drinking game. Tae described his interview in more detail, and the others learned that the new job was a step down from his previous one, but still seemed decent and stable. Anything was better than the sedentary life he had been living for the past few months, Ryujin decided.

As the drinks flowed, the elephant in the room grew larger, until Tae finally broached the subject. “So I guess this means we can finally go back to normal, right?” He asked the group suddenly.

Ryujin waited to see if Junho would respond, and he did. “Eventually, yeah. Let’s wait to see that first paycheck though, eh big guy?” He chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. “Besides, I already paid for this month.” The handsome man smirked at his friend’s girlfriend knowingly, and she felt a tingle between her legs. She had just gulped down all of his cum that very morning, and shuddered at the thought of what he was planning to do to her that night.

“Well it won’t be much longer now. I start next week, so expect that money soon. We need to put this shit behind us,” he said firmly, surprising the others with his sudden boost in confidence. “Be right back.”

As Tae headed towards the bathroom, Junho wrapped an arm around Ryujin, and pulled her against him. “I guess that means we better make every second count,” he muttered in her ear as his hand roamed to her chest, squeezing her pliant flesh.

“Stop!” She whispered, squirming in his strong embrace. Both hands were now roughly groping her tits, and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. Her roommate’s warm breath bathed her neck before his teeth lightly scraped it. “Junho, seriously...” Ryujin protested as the dangerous sensations of her body’s consent began to spread in her loins.

As he kissed and nibbled her soft skin, Junho could actually feel her pulse quickening. The toilet flushed, and he slowly withdrew from the petite woman. “Where’s a dressing room when you need one?” He joked, smiling at her as she quickly composed herself and fixed her shirt.

“You’re such a fucking perv,” she chastised her roommate just before Tae returned to the couch. The game continued, and Junho took every chance to steal a feel of Ryujin, from subtly bumping his body into hers, to outright groping her when his friend was distracted. The man clearly had an appetite, and his risky advances were making her horny. At one point she let her gaze linger on the prominent bulge in his pants, and felt the urge to climb into his lap so he could put his hands all over her. After playing around a while longer, Tae announced he was ready for bed, and held his hand out to his girlfriend invitingly.

“Mmm wrong night, buddy.” Junho pointed out.

Tae shot him a look of disapproval. “I’m not going to sleep just yet. Will you join me, babe?”

“I see...” the cocky man laughed. “Enjoy, you two. But send her to my room when you’re done,” he instructed, winking.

Ryujin should’ve been used to his boldness by now, but still found herself slightly shocked that he would make such a suggestive comment in front of Tae. She rose to her feet and followed her boyfriend, thinking about how slutty it made her feel to be ordered around between the two bedrooms, and noticing that it turned her on.

As soon as they closed the door, Tae kissed her, and started removing her clothes. Ryujin was slightly taken aback by his newfound ability to take charge, but was pleasantly surprised. He pushed her to the bed, and rolled a condom onto his modest erection. He mounted his girlfriend, spearing her with his hardness, and began pumping away. “Wow, you’re so wet already,” he beamed. “My good news has you all excited, eh?” She nodded in response, focused on trying to get into the moment. While she was undoubtedly happy for his success, the moistness in her pussy was caused by Junho’s repeated sneaky touches throughout the night.

After nearly ten minutes of actually decent sex, compared to their recent attempts together, Tae ejaculated into his protection, and slumped on top of her. Ryujin had almost orgasmed, but ended up faking a small one as he finished. She thought about completing the job herself, or asking him to eat her out like the last time they were intimate, but decided to enjoy the restful moment with him instead. He’s too tired anyway, she rationalized to herself, refusing to acknowledge that perhaps she was saving herself for what would inevitably happen in the next bedroom.

The young woman lay there in silence, listening to her boyfriend’s deep breathing. She did feel guilty. She’d coexisted with the uncomfortable emotion for a while now, locking it away when she could, but forced to face it in the quiet moments. Whatever it was that had developed between her and Junho, it was going to come to an end. It always had to. Knowing it was a temporary thing made the guilt easier to deal with. Ryujin felt that her future self could move on and accept that she and her roommate were just getting something out of their systems during this odd time in their lives. It also helped to remind herself that they had managed to keep themselves from going all the way, and had not actually had sex, which had to count for something.

Tae’s breath slowed to a dull snore, and Ryujin scooted out from under the sleeping man. It was an Junho night, and she had to finish out the agreement. She slipped into a thong and baggy t-shirt before tiptoeing towards the bedroom at the other end of the apartment. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering about as she contemplated what might happen in there that night. Will he be waiting for me with his big hard dick in hand? Will he make me suck it again, and cum down my throat? Maybe he’ll lick my pussy. Ryujin grew hornier the more she thought about the vast menu of dirty acts they might indulge in. She reassured herself that as long as they didn’t push the boundaries any further, and were committed to stopping altogether soon, she could enjoy herself.

She opened the door and was surprised to find that the light was off, and her roommate was seemingly asleep already. How long had I been daydreaming? She wondered, trying to suppress her disappointment as she crawled into her side of the bed. “You asleep?” She whispered, lightly brushing his shoulder, but he did not react. Still in an aroused state, she lay motionless for several minutes, enjoying the comfortable mattress and pleasant fragrance of Junho’s room. A setting that had once been so new and surreal was quite familiar now, and she slowly drifted to sleep with the thought that it would be one of the last remaining nights she would experience it.

******

The first thing that Ryujin noticed as she regained consciousness was a throbbing sensation in her pelvic region, and that her pussy felt soaking wet. As she contemplated her dark surroundings, she realized that Junho was spooning her, and clutching her tightly against him. His broad forearm was resting snugly across her torso, and his hand had gone up her shirt. A tingle of pleasure shot from her chest to her sex as he twisted her erect nipple. He was awake, and he had her small frame completely constricted in his hold. Ryujin felt a warmth on her pussy, and gasped at the sudden awareness of what was happening. Junho’s big, hard cock was rubbing back and forth across her creamy folds, steadily tracing a line along her entrance, and making her gush as it made contact with her clit.

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Giving you what you need, obviously.” He replied, his stubbly chin scratching the skin behind her ear.

“But, you can’t-” She argued, feeling utterly helpless in his powerful clutch. She wondered what had happened to her underwear, which had apparently been removed. The forbidden friction between their genitals felt so wickedly good, and her body craved more.

“Can’t what? Do this?” He thrust his hips ever so slightly forward and his thick head prodded against her tight entrance, threatening to break the seal.

“NO!” Ryujin shouted. Her mind was racing now. Is this really about to happen? Is his huge dick about to stretch me open? The intrusive thought had bombarded her mind for so long now, and it was on the brink of becoming a reality. Junho’s large hand snaked up her chest, through the opening of her shirt, and clamped over her mouth. “Mmm!” She half-moaned, half-protested into his meaty palm. Feeling even more powerless than before, she writhed against him, able to move just enough that his cock slipped out of the crater and slid along her slippery slit. It kept finding its way back though, and pushed into her barrier a bit harder each time.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to feel so amazing in a second. Just give in,” he murmured, his words equal parts titillating and threatening.

Ryujin felt like she was about to be devoured by a python as she struggled against her roommate. She was completely at his mercy and was realizing that she was not going to be able to stop him. Is he even wearing a condom? She doubted he’d bothered to use protection, and a shiver ran down her spine at the idea that he was about to stuff his bare dick into her. It was something she’d never experienced, and made her feel even more vulnerable than she already was.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re half asleep, and for all you know I’m your boyfriend. Just lay there and take it like a good little slut, okay?” Junho thrusted his throbbing cock more firmly still, and Ryujin’s tight hole began to stretch around the large, invading circumference. Somehow his twisted suggestion helped her relax slightly. She wasn’t the one pushing things further, and thus didn’t have to be responsible for it. She knew the logic was deeply flawed, but her brain was wholly flooded with desire and not capable of thinking straight. She could feel his fat, bulbous head sinking further into her one painfully slow centimeter at a time, and her pussy oozed lubrication to prepare for him.

Junho’s mushroom tip finally crossed the threshold, and it was suddenly buried completely, her taut walls enclosing it. As shallow as he was, it already felt like nothing Ryujin had ever experienced, and she braced herself for what would come next. Instead of further penetrating though, he went the other direction, slowly pulling out of her clinging pinkness.

He groaned quietly in her ear before pushing into her again, taking care to move as slowly as possible to allow her sex time to warm up to his. His roommate’s warm, gripping cunt felt even tighter than he imagined it would, and he was determined to enjoy every single fraction of a second as he breached her defenses. The sensation on the sensitive ridge of his crown as he passed into her again was euphoric, and he’d only barely sampled her surface. Junho felt his balls tighten as he fought the urge to drill into her further, managing his pace with all the control he could muster.

Ryujin’s entire body was ablaze. Her roommate’s careful teasing was breaking her will one painfully shallow thrust at a time. The need to have his fat cock fill more of her was becoming unbearable, and she began involuntarily bucking her hips back into him. Her efforts were mostly fruitless though, as he held her in place with unyielding rigidity. Her weak attempts to capture more of him only accomplished a dull feeling of shame as her deafening lust drowned out the last bits of reluctance she had left.

A thin layer of sweat was forming upon both of them as the heated interaction between their bodies went on. Junho continued to edge his tip in and out of her entrance, and could feel her juices coating him more and more, the viscous liquid running down the veiny surface area of his shaft. He felt her struggles to escape slowly morph into struggles to take in more of his cock, which would’ve prompted a triumphant grin if his face wasn’t already occupied with absolute pleasure.

“God, you feel incredible. Do you think your hot little pussy is ready for more of me?” He relaxed his grip on her jaw, allowing her the opportunity to reply as he continued to tease her.

“Nggghhh...” Ryujin couldn’t take it anymore. The rational part of her brain that had reaffirmed how wrong it was to be messing around with her roommate was lost in a thick soup of arousal. She was going to be fucked by Junho. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered to her. He was going to take her whether she wanted it or not, and she privately accepted that she wanted it more than anything. She shuddered in his arms; the thought of his monster cock filling her up completely was her singular focus.

“Beg me for more you sexy little slut,” he commanded.

“Fuuuuck...” She moaned. Despite how badly she wanted him, to actually say it out loud was too depraved.

Junho ceased his thrusting after pulling out of her, his throbbing hardness resting against her clit. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Just say it, and I’ll handle the rest...”

“Uggghh! Mmmpfff!” Ryujin tried desperately to wiggle her bottom into him, but could only slather her drenched lips against his skin. It wasn’t enough. Nothing but his entire, juicy dick fucking her would ever be enough. “Fuck! Fuck me! PLEASE FUCK ME!” As the words left her lips, her creamy opening was parted and her depths were stretched around him as he tunneled into her. “OHHHHH!” Her mind felt like it was exploding as every surface of her tight pussy was assaulted by his thick, throbbing cock. It forced its way deeper and deeper for what felt like an eternity, until it battered against her cervix. “FUCK!” She was absolutely stuffed full of Junho, and it felt like nothing she could’ve ever described before. She could perceive every subtle contour of his naked member pulsing inside of her, his skin against hers with no protective barrier.

Then he pulled out, swiftly and smoothly, the entire length passing through her again in reverse. She gasped sharply for air, just in time for him to plunge back into her. His hips crashed into bare ass with a loud slap, sending ripples throughout her curves as his invading cock sent shockwaves throughout the deepest parts of her. “FUHUHUHHHCK!” Ryujin’s muscles tensed up, and she was suddenly aware that a massive orgasm was about to consume her. “YES! YES! YESSSS!”

Junho unleashed his third powerful stroke, and Ryujin let out a guttural moan as she came the hardest she ever had in her life. As her body was flooded with endorphins, she writhed against him in total pleasure. He remained firmly planted inside of her, and she could feel her pussy spasming and clenching around him. She felt as though she was on a different planet as her climax rocked her body relentlessly. After floating on a cloud for a length of time that was not perceivable to her, she felt her roommate’s big cock move within her again.

With another loud crack of skin on skin impact, he thrust into her a fourth time, then a fifth. The fire that was Ryujin’s orgasm was stoked again and again as he fucked her with a steady and deliberate rhythm. “Oh my FUCKING Gahhhh!” Her screams of approval trembled as he pummeled her. The most potent climax of her life also became the longest as he would not let up. She couldn’t believe how incredibly intense it felt to be taken by him. She wondered if she had just discovered what sex was supposed to be like. Surely not. Surely it was exceedingly rare to feel this fucking good. She dug her fingernails into his forearm, holding on for dear life as he continued assaulting her.

Junho was utterly enthralled by his roommate’s body as he gave her his all. He was finally experiencing what he’d dreamed about for months, and it was even better than everything he’d hoped for. Her tight, creamy pussy hugged his cock perfectly as he molded her depths. The feel of her supple young body spasming in his arms, and her uncontrollable moans of pleasure were beyond encouraging. He was elated at how quickly she had taken to his dick. As he slammed into her again and again, his room was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling. If his friend happened to be awake, he thought, there would be absolutely no hiding what was occurring. He was too wrapped up in the moment to care though, and he focused all of his attention on the gorgeous woman that he was currently inside of.

“God... Damn... That... Pussy... Feels... Good...” Junho growled with each firm thrust into Ryujin. He had the idea to slow down for a minute; to kiss her, and to let her face him. He decided that it wasn’t the time for sensual love-making though. If there was too much consent on her part, perhaps the guilt would overwhelm her, and create more of a future obstacle. In time, he planned, she would get over that, and be completely his, but he had to navigate the waters carefully. In that moment, only raw, animalistic fucking was what she needed. He would continue to take her from behind and give her an experience she would never forget.

With that thought, he stopped pumping for a moment, and lifted himself onto his knees while rotating her body, resting upon her prone form. Ryujin whimpered as he pulled out of her, her thighs still twitching slightly. There was just enough moonlight to see that her entire bottom was coated in glistening juices. Her full, round ass looked immensely appetizing as he lined up his slimy cock with her swollen pussy. He entered her slowly at first, bottoming out and savoring the return of her warm, wet embrace. “Mmm... This slutty little body was made for big cock,” he grumbled as he squeezed her malleable cheeks. Junho adjusted himself into a push-up like position with his hands on her lower back, wrapping most of her narrow waist in his sizable grip.

Ryujin was still in such a daze that she was barely aware of Junho moving on top of her. She felt a sudden vast emptiness that longed to be filled again, and unintelligibly cried out for more as her body was pinned against the mattress under his considerable weight. Finally, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched around him returned, and she clamped her eyes shut to endure it. “Ohhhhfff... Yes!” The new positioning felt different somehow, and her pussy gushed at the new variety of stimulation. She felt a bead of sweat dribble down the bridge of her nose before it was launched onto the pillow as Junho bucked into her from behind. “Oh my GOD!” She clenched the fabric in desperation as her roommate’s big dick began pounding her again. The amount of force that was being exerted into her body was mind-blowing. She had never felt so engulfed in dominance, as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll to be fucked by this apex masculine creature. It awakened something primal in her, and she came again at the thought of it. “I’M CUMMM-OHHHH!”

“Fuck yes baby... Cum all over that big cock you slut!” Junho was giving it to her at a renewed pace, his pelvis crashing into her ass again and again. Her convulsing pussy felt so incredibly good, and he groaned through the ecstasy that her responsive body was dealing him. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upper body towards him, curving her flexible spine. He leaned back and continued to take her with him, her knees bending and bottom lifting off of the bed. With one hand on her luscious hip and the other still tangled up in her hair, he continued fucking his best friend’s girlfriend with all the strength he had.

Ryujin felt numb with pleasure from head to toe as her roommate had his way with her. It felt like she was being fucked through one long continuous orgasm, and she wanted it to never end. She was completely dumbfounded at the immense contrast between sex with her boyfriend, and the mouth-watering brutish treatment she was experiencing at that moment. Tae felt good inside of her, but she almost always needed some additional form of external stimulation to complement him. Junho, on the other hand, was a totally different feeling, and he was reaching places deep inside of her that had never been touched before. In addition to his ability to use his massive cock, the way he manhandled her and manipulated her body to suit him was an insanely hot turn on.

Junho admired Ryujin’s luscious figure beneath him. He couldn’t believe his luck at how deep she was able to take him in. He was penetrating her with his entire length, and it felt like the exact perfect fit. He was fucking her like a wild man, and she seemed to be loving every second of it. His heavy balls were constricting as they slapped repeatedly into her clit, and he began to feel that he was ready to burst. He slammed into her for the final few strokes he could manage before releasing a deep, satisfying roar and pulling out of her with a loud squelch. His throbbing cock instantly launched a thick, lengthy rope of semen that splattered against the back of her head and ran down the entire length of her spine. Another viscous strand was flung onto her, and several more followed, coating the young girlfriend’s backside in his sticky seed.

Ryujin moaned repeatedly as she felt her roommate climaxing all over her. She reveled in the dirty feeling of his cum forcefully blasting against her skin while her own orgasm still pulsed within her. He let go of her hair and her face slumped into the pillow, the sudden darkness only enhancing her sense of touch. The last two spurts splashed against her pussy directly, which felt titillating and erotic in a dangerous sort of way. She felt his shockingly heavy load pooling at the curved small of her back, and dripping down her ass cheeks. The thoroughly fucked woman remained still for a while with her plump bottom in the air, catching her breath while her head span aimlessly in a dense fog of ecstasy.

SMACK!

Junho’s wide palm brought her back to reality as he slapped her exposed cheek, sending beads of semen flying. She let out a girlish yelp that normally would’ve embarrassed her, but in that moment it was who she was. She was Junho’s fuck doll, and she felt far too satisfied to question it; more satisfied in fact, than possibly ever before. She collapsed into the soft mattress and felt him cover her with the blanket before passing out.

******

When Ryujin woke again, her brain felt clear and calm, but something about the lighting in the room felt off. She reached for her phone and felt a stab of panic as she realized she had slept in well past her usual rising time. Remembering she had the day off made the lateness of the morning less troubling, but there were several missed texts from Tae. She sat up, and the stinging soreness between her legs flooded her with memories of the previous night. She glanced over and was relieved to find that Junho had already left. She quickly swiped at her screen, fearing that her boyfriend had surely heard the debauchery. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” She cursed to herself, regretting how recklessly loud she had been. Her worries began to fade as she read his messages. He made no comments suggesting that he had any idea of what had transpired. He merely asked if she wanted to wake up and join him for some “Back to work” shopping.

As she peeled the blanket from her sticky body, she silently thanked the universe that Tae had not come to wake her in person. She twisted her torso to discover that she was still absolutely covered in her roommate’s drying cum. If her boyfriend had simply cracked the door open, the smell of the room alone would’ve been a dead giveaway. The stink of sex hung heavily in the air, a potent reminder of how intense the evening had been. Despite how physically sore and mentally conflicted she felt at that moment, the memories of the encounter and the evidence all over her skin was highly arousing. Her pussy was swollen and red, yet was already beginning to leak her sexual fluids. The feeling of Junho’s cock inside of her was not an easily dismissable thought, and the way he had taken her was nothing short of mind-blowing. Ryujin resisted the urge to touch herself, and instead jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

As the scalding water cleared the mess that Junho had left behind, Ryujin pondered her current predicament. Gone was the comfort that full-on, penetrative sex was still reserved for Tae alone, the last remaining pillar of her faithfulness in shambles. If only she had been able to summon the strength to prevent it. Then again, she thought, Did I even really have a say at all? HE fucked ME, and not the other way around. I was just trying to sleep. Ryujin’s mind rationalized the event for nearly an hour in the steamy bathroom, and she emerged ready to face the day.

She made plans to meet Tae at her clothing store to help him pick out some new outfits for work. They ended up spending the entire day out and about, and she did her best to bury any guilty feelings that arose intermittently. That night, Tae did not make a move to have sex, which quelled her fears that he would somehow be able to notice what Junho had done to her.

******

The next evening, Ryujin began to grow nervous as she would be joining her alluring roommate in bed, and didn’t know what to expect. They had only seen each other briefly in passing since he’d fucked her, and she had done a lot of processing since then without running it by him. She was going to attempt to reestablish some boundaries, but in the back of her mind, knew it was a nearly impossible challenge. When the time came, she kissed Tae goodnight, and entered Junho’s room with determination. He was sitting on the bed, fully naked, looking like a chiseled statue of peak masculinity. She felt a tingle in her pussy and his eyes on her while she walked around to her side and sat next to him, leaving her tiny elastic shorts on.

“So...” She started, not yet knowing which words to select. “We shouldn’t do that again...”

“Do what?” He grinned, brushing some hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“You know...” She could feel herself blushing. The physical contact from him in the space where he so recently had his way with her spawned a spark between her legs.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Junho said playfully. He knew it was a sensitive subject that required careful maneuvering.

“Okay, uhhh. But seriously, that stuff is dangerous. Like... It’s too good...” She admitted shamefully, dropping her chin.

He smiled at her, and tilted her head up with his finger. “Whatever you say.” He cupped her feminine jaw in his large hand, and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Her pussy gushed.

Ugh, why is he being all weird? Ryujin wasn’t sure what he was up to, but figured he was probably planning something. “We can still like... mess around and stuff. As long as we’re committed to ending all of this when we start paying rent again.” Her eyes dropped to his bare cock, which was slowly inflating to its full size. I can’t believe that fucking thing was inside of me.

Junho pressed his thumb against her lips, and eased it into her mouth. She responded by lightly sucking on it, becoming increasingly turned on by the second.

“Mess around, eh?” He asked calmly.

“Mhmm,” Ryujin nodded cutely in agreement while swirling her tongue around his finger, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation.

Junho gently removed his thumb from her mouth. “That’s okay. You’re right. Best not to push it. We should just go to sleep.”

“But-” She shot a glance at his massive erection, shocked by his sudden denial.

He lightly tapped her cheek with his palm. “Goodnight Ryujin,” he said, grinning, before turning away from her and switching off the light.

The young woman sat there in the dark, bewildered and horny, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn’t going to beg him to touch her, if that was the game he was playing. She did want him to though. Bastard... She accepted the turn of events and lay on her side to go to sleep.

After several minutes, just as she started to drift off, she noticed a rustling behind her. There was movement in her blanket, and suddenly her shorts were ripped all the way down her legs and clean off of her. Before she knew what was happening, she felt Junho’s large frame shove against hers, and his hands squeeze her chest. “Hey!” She thrashed against his hard body, instinctively fighting to get away from his trap. “Are you serious? We just-” Her breath was taken away as he shoved his hard cock straight into her without warning. She was still plenty moist, and her pussy welcomed his intrusion. “Anghhh!” The pleasure center of her brain was abruptly firing on all cylinders as he eased his way to her deepest reaches.

“Shhh... You’re still asleep, remember?” He whispered mischievously.

“Ngh... Oh fuck... Ohmmmy God... You fucking ass... Ooooh!” Ryujin moaned as quietly as she could, remembering that not much time had passed since she’d parted ways with her boyfriend, who was likely still awake in the other room.

“If you weren’t soaking wet for this, maybe I’d reconsider, but I need to give your body what it wants.” Junho’s big cock plunged in and out of her sopping wet hole at a calm, but steady pace, while he groped her covered tits. She gasped as he easily tore the flimsy fabric of her top into two pieces, exposing her jiggling breasts, before continuing to roughly caress her. Here she was once more, fully under his control, and powerless to stop the man’s aggressive assault. All she could do was hold on tight, and savor the delight of cumming on his fat dick over and over again. He made her feel so devilishly good, and she was secretly thrilled that he ignored her original protest.

Junho fucked her long and hard that night, albeit slightly more gently than their first session, knowing that her body was still adapting to him. His sexy roommate’s heart-shaped ass served as the perfect cushion to thrust against, and her soft moans into the pillow were music to his ears. Every time she came he would relish in the feel of her hot little body quivering beneath him while her tight pussy squeezed his cock. He finished in the same fashion as before, painting her exposed skin with his copious load before calling it a night. Ryujin was left panting, swimming in pleasure, and drifting off to a deeply satisfying slumber while drenched in his semen.

The following morning, she was the first to wake, and smirked at the realization that her roommate was still spooning her, fast asleep. She could feel his raging hard-on poking her butt, excited by the notion that they were apparently both still horny. She carefully shifted her body out of his embrace, and rotated him to be on his back. Ryujin threw her hair back, and lowered her face to his stiff erection. It smelled of sex, and she touched it with the tip of her tongue to sample the potent flavor of their combined juices. It was intoxicating, in the best way, and she licked it all over. She longed to straddle him and feel that thick cock sink into her needy pussy, but that would be too forward. She couldn’t allow herself to be the one to initiate sex with him, as that would erase the miniscule amount of innocence she had left. Instead, she took him into her mouth, and began sucking him lovingly.

Junho stirred, lazily opening his eyes to see his beautiful roommate with her lips around his dick. “Hoooohfff... Well good morning, you little slut,” he muttered, placing his hands behind his head. He let himself sink into the comfortable bed as he savored Ryujin’s warm mouth fervently sucking him off.

She popped him out of her mouth, slowly stroking his saliva-coated shaft with one hand. “Be quiet. I just need to take care of this before it gets you into trouble. Who knows what you would try to do to me...” She explained playfully.

“Good point. Unspeakable things, probably,” he flirted back. “Mmmm... Yesss. Right there...” He palmed her head and pushed gently in encouragement. She was bobbing her head enthusiastically while stroking the base of his cock with her soft hand. It felt amazing, and Junho relished in the glorious wake-up call that his friend’s girlfriend was giving him willingly.

“Jeez, don’t you ever run out of stamina?” She asked teasingly, taking a brief moment to catch her breath.

“Never. How else would I claim you for myself?” He chuckled, noting his dried cum on her shoulder.

“You wish,” she answered.

“Why don’t you cut the bullshit and climb on for a ride, sexy?”

“I can’t do that. You know I only have sex with my boyfriend.”

“Ohhh riiight.”

The pair exchanged knowing glances before she took him back into her mouth. Ryujin slurped and stroked his big dick diligently until he unloaded his balls down her throat while flexing his muscular thighs from the overwhelming pleasure. She drank all of his spunk down and sucked every last drop from the tip of his head. “Finally. Now we can get on with our day,” she rolled her eyes and smiled slyly, then got out of bed to collect her clothes. Ryujin scoffed at her ripped up shirt, and threw it at her roommate impishly. “Now I have to get to the bathroom topless, you jerk!”

Junho reached for his crumpled up t-shirt on the floor, and tossed it in her direction.

“Hmmpf!” She voiced defiantly, slipping the oversized garment onto her bare torso. She quietly opened the bedroom door, and peeked into the apartment’s living space to confirm that it was empty. Ryujin tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, and grabbed the cool door handle. Against all odds, she was greeted by Tae’s voice, emerging from his bedroom.

“Morning, babe.” He muttered sleepily, causing Ryujin to freeze in her tracks. “What are you wearing?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh... This? I dunno... Oh yeah. It’s Junho’s shirt,” she stammered, knowing it was too obvious of a fact to lie about. “I... spilled water on mine last night, and didn’t feel like walking all the way to my closet...” She could feel her cheeks turning crimson with guilt, but forced herself to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

“Okay...” Tae replied, clearly suspicious, and not particularly thrilled that his girlfriend was seemingly naked under his friend’s shirt.

Ryujin awkwardly forced a smile, and entered the bathroom hastily. God dammit, Ryujin... The guilt-ridden woman bathed herself, feeling badly that things had gotten so out of hand. Just minutes ago she was lovingly servicing Junho’s big cock with her mouth, and she had initiated it. When did I become such a fucking slut? Why can’t I control myself around that man? She could feel the aftermath of what he had done to her last night, as if he had rearranged her insides. Even now, amidst all of her shame and remorse, a filthy, nagging part of her brain wanted to fuck him again. There wasn’t any space to feel guilty while her mind was occupied fantasizing about her dominant roommate storming in there, shoving her up against the wall, and having his way with her.

******

There were two more Junho nights before Tae’s first day at the new job, and on both occasions, Ryujin was dripping wet before she even entered his bedroom. Her resolve to be good quickly fell apart, and she stripped all of her clothes off and placed them in a neat pile. She told herself that she couldn’t control what he would do, so she might as well not have her wardrobe ripped to shreds. While it did make sense to preserve her clothing, the more glaring reason was to entice the man to make a move, and provide the easiest access. She slipped under the covers and lay in her sleeping position.

“Don’t even think about it.” Facing away from him, she felt like bait, pretending to innocently go to sleep, and knowing that at any minute the big bad predator would be all over her. Her needy pussy leaked generously as she waited with anticipation for him to fill her. She never looked at him during the act, nor directly encouraged him, afraid to cross the line of “questionable consent” that they had established. She knew it was a dicey game to play, but worried that her guilt might reach the point of no return if she was fucking her roommate behind her boyfriend’s back as an outwardly willing participant.

After just a handful of rounds with him, Ryujin was becoming addicted to Junho’s cock. She found herself daydreaming about it constantly: the way it felt when it entered her for the first time each encounter, filling her perfectly; the manly aggression she was subjected to as it pummeled her insides, using her tight welcoming hole to get to the finish line; and the degrading but delicious sensation of being covered in the dominant man’s virile load while she lay there in the most vulnerable position.

When the time finally came and Tae announced that his initial day at work had gone well, Ryujin was relieved, though there was a part of her that didn’t want the agreement to end. Her boyfriend was all set to earn his first paycheck in two weeks, at which point there would no longer be any reason to sleep in Junho’s bed. She thought back to when her roommate had first proposed the arrangement. Mere months ago he shocked her with the wild suggestion, but it felt like ancient history. Her past self wouldn’t have been able to fathom what had become of her, but also was completely oblivious to the mind-bending pleasures that were possible.

She and Junho did not openly discuss the impending end date, but they both kept it in mind while carrying on with their routine. Ryujin continued to strip naked and let him have his way with her for each of their final nights together. Though they did the deed more or less in the same fashion each time, it grew no less exciting, and each of their forbidden encounters became the highlight of their day.

On the last night of the agreement, she resisted the urge to break the routine with some symbolic gesture, but Junho had other plans. After losing track of how many times he’d made her cum, she felt the familiar sensation of his cock swelling inside her to signal his orgasm had arrived. She waited in anticipation for him to pull out, but instead he thrust firmly into her again and held still, tightly clutching her hips to trap her against him.

“Oh fuck! Wh-What are you- OHHHH!” Ryujin moaned in ecstasy as she felt a warm jet of semen splash against her cervix. Her roommate’s wildly throbbing dick shot rope after rope of thick, sticky seed deep within her unprotected pussy. He groaned hoarsely and thrust in and out of her ever so slightly while draining his big balls into her. The feeling of Junho’s huge cock spraying its dangerous, heavy load at her deepest depths was quite possibly the hottest thing she had ever experienced. Already blissfully enjoying the way he dominated her, to have him seal the deal and lay claim over her womb took it to the next level. Her fertile young womb, which she had always taken such immense precautions to guard, was now being flooded with what she could only imagine was billions of very capable sperm.

It was as if Ryujin’s biology kicked into overdrive, and she helplessly quivered against her roommate as her brain was saturated in endorphins. Her pussy eagerly milked the ejaculating cock for all its worth, as she came in unison with him. It was exhilarating to think that her body was doing everything it could to soak up as much of his seed as possible, with an utter disregard for any consequences. Junho pumped jet after jet of his thick spunk for what felt like an impossible length of time. There was simply no space left in her stuffed cunt, and she felt the creamy substance overflowing and dribbling down her thighs.

“Unnnghhh... Take all of that cum you fucking slut. You’re mine now, do you understand?” Junho grunted, staying firmly planted within her as his big cock spurted the last few drops.

“Oh my God... Fuuuuck...” Ryujin couldn’t think straight, feeling wholly dominated and satisfied in the moment. “Yesss... Ngghhh... I’m your... Slut... Ohhh fuck... So much... Fucking... Cum. Give me it all...”

Junho finally broke the seal, pulling out of her and releasing the extraordinary pressure that had been built up inside of her. His gooey, pearlescent semen flowed out of her gaping pussy like lava. It was a shame for so much of it to go to waste, he thought, but was confident that it was only the first of many loads he would put inside of her. If he had learned anything about his roommate, it was that she was not going to be able to resist him for long, agreement or not. He moved to his spot but watched her delicate form intently. He felt nearly ready at that moment to confess that his feelings for her had blossomed into something more than just sexual desire. It would be better to wait though. He would give her a chance to realize herself that she wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were.

Ryujin collapsed onto the soiled sheets and basked in the post-orgasm glow, her upper back rising and falling as she caught her breath. As she drifted back down to reality, she recognized that she should be more concerned with the fact that Junho had finished inside of her, and that the massive pool of cum was still oozing out of her. She convinced herself that it was a problem to worry about tomorrow, and that tonight was for dwelling on pleasure only.

#ryujin smut #itzy smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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hisfavegirl · 15 days ago

Text

The Rouge Prince - Daemon Targaryen x Reader.

summary : As the only daughter in your family, you are required to marry someone with dignity and honor, that's what your father thinks and when he heard that the king wanted to find a bride for his grandson, your father and mother did something that required you to sacrifice your future.

You sit in the carriage, your eyes fixed on your parents, who are deep in conversation. The rhythmic sound of the horses’ hooves on the road fills the air, but your mind is elsewhere. You glance at your father, his brow furrowed in thought, and your mother, her eyes scanning the horizon as if lost in her own plans.

“Why are we going to King’s Landing, Mother?” you ask again, trying to break through their focused discussion.

Your father, glances at you briefly before returning his attention to your mother. “You’ll find out when we arrive, child. It’s not something for you to worry about right now.”

“But I want to know now!” you protest, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep talking in secrets? What are you planning?”

your mother, turns her head slightly toward you, her face calm but distant. “Enough questions, dear. It’s for your own good.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. You look out the window, trying to ignore their conversation, but curiosity gnaws at you. What are they planning? What could be so important that they won’t share with you?

“Mother,” you ask quietly, your tone softer now. “Please. I just want to understand.”

Your mother sighs, her gaze softening for a moment. “In time, you will, my love. But for now, you must trust that we are doing what is best.”

You turn back to the window, still not entirely convinced. The trees pass by in a blur as your mind races with possibilities. What is waiting for you in King’s Landing? What role do you play in this unknown plan?

The carriage rumbles to a stop, and the clatter of hooves fades into the bustling noise of the Red Keep’s courtyard. Your eyes scan the scene before you — guards marching in tight formations, their armor clinking with every step, and servants rushing about, their arms full of crates and baskets of food, wine, and decorations. The air hums with activity, the scent of fresh bread and sweet fruits mixing with the sharp tang of metal.

“Out,” your father’s voice cuts through the noise as he steps down from the carriage, offering a hand to your mother. You follow after them, your eyes darting around, taking in every detail.

“What’s all this for?” you ask, noticing the banners being unfurled from the high towers. The sigil of House Targaryen — the three-headed dragon — looms over the courtyard like a watchful beast.

“The feast,” your mother replies, her gaze sharp as she glances at a group of servants struggling with a large cask of wine. “There will be many important guests tonight. You will behave accordingly.” Her tone is gentle but firm, the kind that leaves little room for argument.

“A feast for whom?” you press, stepping closer to her. “What’s the occasion?”

A flicker of something — hesitation, perhaps — crosses her face. She looks at your father, who gives her a short nod. “The King has decided it is time to strengthen bonds between houses,” your mother says carefully. “There will be dancing, music, and… alliances to be made.”

“Alliances,” you mutter under your breath, frowning. The meaning behind that word is never as simple as it sounds.

The three of you walk into the Red Keep, and the warmth of the sun is quickly replaced by the cool, shadowed halls. The once-quiet corridors are now alive with movement. Servants hang garlands of flowers along the walls, and tables are being set with silver plates and goblets of polished gold. You have to step aside as a pair of kitchen boys hurry past, balancing platters of fruit and roasted meats.

“Stay close,” your father says, glancing back at you. “The halls are crowded, and I will not have you wandering off.”

You nod but your eyes remain on the scene before you. The smell of spiced wine drifts past your nose, and the distant sound of musicians tuning their instruments echoes through the stone corridors. Everywhere you look, people are moving with purpose, as if the whole keep is holding its breath for something grand to begin.

You glance up at your mother, your brow furrowed in suspicion. “Are you sure this is just a feast, Mother? It feels like something more.”

Your mother doesn’t answer immediately. Her gaze is fixed straight ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Keep your eyes open tonight, my dear,” she finally says, her tone low but pointed. “There is more to see than what is being shown.”

Her words stay with you as you walk deeper into the Red Keep, the echoes of footsteps and distant music filling your ears. The air feels heavier now, like a storm about to break.

You walk through the grand corridors of the Red Keep, the distant hum of preparations for the feast slowly fading behind you. The air grows colder, heavier with the weight of expectation. The echo of footsteps bounces off the high stone walls, each step feeling louder than the last.

As you approach the large, looming doors of the throne room, two guards push them open with a low, rumbling creak. The chamber beyond is vast and dimly lit, the narrow beams of sunlight streaming through high windows casting sharp rays upon the stone floor.

At the far end of the room, atop the Iron Throne, sits King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, his presence as commanding as the throne itself. His silver hair gleams in the fractured light, and his sharp, thoughtful eyes watch every movement like a dragon surveying its domain. Beside him stands Prince Baelon Targaryen, his son, tall and broad-shouldered, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. His gaze is sharper, more direct, and it lingers on you just a moment too long.

“Lady Tyrell, Lord Tyrell,” King Jaehaerys’s voice echoes across the hall, steady but worn with age. His gaze shifts to you, eyes narrowing with faint curiosity. “And you have brought another with you.”

“This is my daughter,” your mother replies with a polite bow of her head. “She has come to learn, as all must in time.” Her voice is steady, but there is a careful calculation in her words, as if each syllable has been weighed before it was spoken.

“Ah, the young one,” Baelon says, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “She looks sharper than most. I wonder if she listens as well as she watches.” His eyes meet yours, a spark of challenge in them.

You lift your chin, refusing to look away. “I listen when there’s something worth hearing,” you reply, your voice cool but clear.

Baelon raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A tongue as sharp as her gaze. She’ll need both if she means to walk these halls.”

Jaehaerys raises a hand, and the room falls silent. His eyes settle on you, more curious now than before. “Tell me, child,” he says slowly, his voice like distant thunder, “what do you see when you look upon this throne room?”

You glance around the room, your gaze moving from the cold stone walls to the guards stationed along the edges, to the light catching on the jagged edges of the Iron Throne. Your eyes linger on the throne itself — a twisted mass of blades, swords of conquered kings melted together. You feel a weight in the air, not just from the presence of those before you, but from the very history embedded in the metal.

“I see power,” you answer carefully, your voice unwavering. “But power that cuts as easily as it commands.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Jaehaerys’s eyes remain on you, and you can feel him weighing your words. Slowly, a faint smile touches his lips.

“Wise beyond your years,” he says, leaning back on the throne. “Perhaps too wise.” His gaze flicks to Otto, then to Alicent, his eyes sharp with meaning. “Keep her close, lady Tyrell. Wisdom is both a gift and a danger in these halls.”

Your mother dips her head in acknowledgment. “She will be guided well, Your Grace.”

Baelon chuckles softly, his eyes still on you. “If she’s as clever as she seems, I doubt she’ll need much guidance.”

You glance at him again, your heart steady despite the weight of so many eyes upon you. The Iron Throne looms larger than ever, and in this moment, you realize that every gaze in this room carries its own weight of expectation. Something about this meeting feels heavier than it should.

As the king begins speaking with your mother and father, you remain silent, but your mind is far from still. What had your mother said before? “There is more to see than what is being shown.”

You watch them all — the king, the prince, the guards, even the way the light falls on the Iron Throne — and you wonder what lies beneath their words.

The heavy groan of the great doors behind you draws your attention. Slowly, they swing open, and for a moment, the light from the corridor frames the figure in the doorway like a portrait.

Prince Daemon Targaryen steps inside with the confidence of a man who has never questioned his place in the world. His silver hair, so much like his father’s and grandfather’s, falls just past his waist, but it is the sharpness in his eyes that catches your attention. Mischief and danger swirl in his gaze like fire and smoke. His lips curve into a crooked grin, as if he already knows something no one else does.

“The Rogue Prince arrives,” Baelon mutters, glancing toward his son with a mix of pride and exasperation. “Late, as usual.”

“Better to arrive late than to wait on others, Father,” Daemon replies smoothly, his voice rich with amusement. His boots echo as he strides forward, his cloak swishing behind him like a dragon’s tail. He spares a glance at his grandfather, King Jaehaerys, and gives a short, almost lazy bow. “Your Grace.”

“Daemon,” Jaehaerys says his name like a warning, though his gaze is steady. “You walk these halls like they belong to you.”

“Do they not, grandfather?” Daemon’s grin widens, his eyes flicking briefly to the Iron Throne. “One day, they will.”

A strained silence falls over the room, heavy as storm clouds. You glance at your mother, and see her eyes narrow, her lips pressed tightly together. Your father, shifts his stance, his gaze fixed on Daemon like a hawk watching prey.

“Ambition is a dangerous thing, nephew,” your mother says softly, her voice calm but pointed. “It burns hot but fades quickly if not tempered.”

Daemon’s eyes flick to her, his grin unfaltering. “Then it’s a good thing I prefer wildfire, my lady. Burns hotter, lasts longer.” His gaze moves to you next, his eyes sharp and assessing. “And who do we have here?”

You meet his stare without flinching, your eyes steady on his. “Someone who knows better than to be charmed by wildfire, Prince Daemon.”

Baelon barks a laugh, his eyes lighting up with surprise. “She has your tongue, Daemon. Careful, or she’ll cut you with it.”

Daemon’s grin only widens, his eyes gleaming with interest now. He takes a step closer, tilting his head as he examines you like one might examine a puzzle with missing pieces. “A sharp tongue, a sharp gaze. Dangerous tools for one so young.”

“And yet,” you reply smoothly, “dangerous tools tend to be the most useful.”

His eyes narrow, but there’s no malice in them — only curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. He chuckles softly, his eyes flicking to Alicent. “This one’s yours, I take it?”

“She is mine,” your mother replies firmly, stepping slightly forward, as if to place herself between you and Daemon. Her tone leaves no room for doubt. “And she is not a tool for anyone to use.”

“Everyone’s a tool, my lady,” Daemon replies with mock sweetness, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Some just don’t know it yet.”

“That will be enough, Daemon,” King Jaehaerys’s voice cuts through the room like a blade, sharp and absolute. “We are here to prepare for the feast, not to play games of wit and pride.”

Daemon lowers his head slightly, his grin fading but not disappearing. “Of course, Your Grace.” He steps aside, letting his gaze linger on you for a moment longer before turning toward his father, Baelon.

You release a slow breath, realizing only then how tense you’d been. Your gaze flicks to Alicent, who places a hand on your shoulder, her fingers firm but reassuring.

“Remember what I told you,” she says quietly, her eyes locked on Daemon as he walks away. “There is more to see than what is being shown.”

Her words echo in your mind as you watch the Rogue Prince disappear deeper into the throne room, his laughter still hanging in the air like smoke after a fire.

The king rises from his throne, and the room falls into a hushed silence. His presence alone commands attention, but as he begins to speak, the weight of his words settles over the room like a heavy fog.

“Now that Prince Daemon has arrived,” King Jaehaerys’s voice rings clear and firm, “I am pleased to announce the engagement of my grandson, Prince Daemon, to Lady Tyrell, the daughter of Lord and Lady Tyrell. The marriage will take place in one month’s time.”

The room seems to hold its breath. You feel your heart stop in your chest, and for a moment, the world around you seems to blur. Your eyes flick to your parents, and everything falls into place.

You had wondered why your father had so stubbornly rejected every suitor you had been offered, why he had pushed back against every potential match, no matter how prestigious. It wasn’t that they didn’t care for your happiness—no, it was something far more intricate, far more political. The realization strikes you like a thunderclap.

The match with Daemon. This is what your father had been maneuvering toward all along. A marriage that would tie your House to the Targaryens in a way that could not be undone. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? This is a power play—a way to gain influence in the court, to strengthen your family’s position, to secure your place among the highest powers in the realm.

You feel a cold shiver run down your spine as you look at Daemon. His eyes meet yours across the room, his expression unreadable, but there’s a glint of something in his gaze. Recognition? Amusement? Or something far more dangerous?

Daemon, the Rogue Prince—the one who had walked into the room with such defiance and charm. The one who had stirred the pot, who had pushed every boundary. And now, he is your fiancé. Your blood runs cold, and yet, you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“Is this truly necessary?” you hear yourself ask, the words slipping from your mouth before you can stop them. Your voice rings out in the room, breaking the silence like glass shattering.

King Jaehaerys’s eyes flick to you, sharp and unyielding. “It is done, child. The decision has been made.”

Your mother, Lady Tyrell, steps forward, her expression neutral but tight with control. “It is for the good of House Tyrell,” she says, her voice calm but with an edge. “A union with House Targaryen will strengthen our position. We must all think beyond our desires, for the future of the realm.”

The weight of her words crashes down on you, and for a moment, you feel as if the room is closing in. You glance at your father, Lord Tyrell, who watches the exchange with a cold, calculating gaze.

“So this is why,” you say softly, more to yourself than to anyone else. “This was the reason behind all the rejections… All those men who came to court me, only to be sent away with little more than a polite refusal. You had this planned all along.”

Your father does not deny it. “Sometimes, the right choice is not the one that makes us happy,” he says quietly. “But it is the one that secures our future.”

Daemon’s voice cuts through the tension. “Don’t look so disappointed, Lady Tyrell. You may find our union more… thrilling than you think.” His grin is sly, but there’s something behind it that you can’t quite place.

You take a steadying breath. You don’t have to like this arrangement, but it seems you have little choice in the matter now. Daemon is your fiancé, and the course has already been set.

As the room shifts back into its previous rhythm, the whispers of the courtiers beginning again, you feel a chill settle in your bones. The power dynamics have shifted in ways you couldn’t have predicted, and now you are at the center of it all.

Your life, and your future, are no longer entirely your own.

You stand in the newly prepared chamber, its walls draped in fine silks and the soft glow of candlelight flickering across the polished stone floor. The room feels both grand and foreign to you, filled with the weight of the Targaryen legacy, yet it is still undeniably your own—at least for now. The heavy, regal scent of incense fills the air, and everything in the room seems meticulously arranged for your new life.

Your mother, Lady Tyrell, stands near the window, her gaze fixed on the far-off horizon, as if she is contemplating something far beyond the stone walls of this keep. The silence between you is thick with unspoken words, but you can feel her eyes shift toward you, sensing your presence without turning.

“Mother,” you begin, your voice steady but tinged with a mixture of confusion and something deeper. “You are part of House Targaryen by blood, yet now you’re asking me to bind myself to them through marriage. Is this truly the best course for our House?”

She finally turns to face you, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. For a moment, there’s a flicker of something, a vulnerability, before it is quickly masked.

“It is not just about bloodlines, my dear,” she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of experience. “The strength of our House is not in our name alone but in the alliances we forge. House Targaryen is the most powerful in the realm. A marriage to Daemon… well, it solidifies our position in ways that words alone cannot.”

You stare at her, trying to make sense of her cold pragmatism, yet beneath it, there is something you almost cannot place. She speaks with such certainty, such authority, as if her entire life has been leading up to this moment.

“But what of me?” you ask, a thread of frustration slipping into your tone. “What of my future? My happiness?”

Lady Tyrell steps closer to you, her gaze softening just slightly, though her resolve remains strong. “You are not the first woman to be wed for the good of her family. And you will not be the last. But remember this, child: House Tyrell will endure, and so will you. You are not just a pawn, but a queen in the making. Your sacrifices will carry our name far and wide, and that is something that will outlast any personal longing.”

You want to argue, to voice the doubts and fears that have been swirling in your mind ever since the announcement. But there’s something in her voice—something both comforting and chilling—that silences you.

You look down at the fine silks draped over the bed, the delicate embroidery woven with care, and for the first time, you realize the cost of this union. It’s not just about power. It’s about the future of House Tyrell. And you, whether you like it or not, have become its instrument.

“Will I ever truly have a choice in any of this?” you ask, the words barely escaping your lips before you can stop them.

Your mother steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm, almost too firm. “You always have a choice,” she says quietly. “But know this: sometimes the right choice isn’t the one that will bring you immediate joy. It’s the one that will ensure survival, legacy, and honor.”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle into your bones. There is no turning back now. You are bound to this marriage, to Daemon, to a future that will not be of your choosing.

But as you meet your mother’s gaze, something inside you stirs—determination, perhaps, or the beginning of a plan of your own. This life might not be the one you imagined, but that doesn’t mean you have to accept it without shaping it in your own way.

And with that thought, you look at your mother one last time. “I will make sure House Tyrell does not just survive, but thrives,” you say, your voice quiet but resolute.

She gives you a nod, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. “I know you will.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy with doubt and defiance. “Becoming a queen? Even Daemon is just the second son,” you say, your voice tinged with frustration. You didn’t mean to speak so openly, but the realization of your situation is too much to bear. How could you possibly be married to someone like Daemon, the second son of House Targaryen, whose ambitions and wild nature are known across the realm?

At the sound of your words, a sharp silence fills the room, and in an instant, you feel the change in the atmosphere. Your father, Lord Tyrell, who had been so composed, now stands rigid, his eyes narrowed with a cold, burning fury.

“Do not question my decisions,” he says, his voice low but firm, each word biting through the air like a blade. The heat of his anger is palpable, and his gaze hardens as he steps closer, his presence towering over you. “Daemon is not just any second son. He is a Targaryen. And his blood is powerful enough to change the course of this realm.”

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as his words sink in. This is no longer a family discussion; it’s an assertion of power, of authority. Your father’s hand tightens into a fist, and you know that questioning him now is not a luxury you can afford.

“I have done what is necessary,” he continues, his voice steady, though there is an edge to it now. “House Tyrell’s future is secured by this union. It is not a matter of titles or birth order. It is a matter of survival, of influence. And you will marry Daemon, whether you like it or not.”

You swallow hard, the tension in the room thickening. The implications of his words are clear—there is no room for rebellion in this decision. Your personal desires, your future hopes, they mean nothing in the face of what your father believes is best for the family. You can see the finality in his eyes.

“But father,” you protest, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to remain strong. “This is not the life I wanted. This is not the future I dreamed of.”

Your father’s expression softens only slightly, but there is no trace of remorse in his eyes. “Dreams are for children,” he replies, his tone hardening again. “The realm is ruled by power, not dreams. You will adapt. And in time, you will understand.”

Your mother, Lady Tyrell, steps forward now, her presence steady and calm as always, but her eyes meet yours with an expression that speaks volumes. She says nothing at first, allowing your father’s words to settle. Then, her gaze softens, and she places a hand gently on your arm, her touch warm but firm.

“I know this is difficult,” she says quietly, her voice carrying the weight of years of experience. “But your father is right. This is not just a marriage. It is the future of our House. And your role in this is not one to be taken lightly. You must think beyond yourself for the good of everyone you love.”

You want to fight back, to argue that your happiness should matter, but the reality of your situation presses in. This is the life you will have now—the life your parents have chosen for you.

With a heavy sigh, you turn away from them, facing the window, your eyes tracing the distant horizon, where the sun is setting. You are trapped in a life you didn’t choose, and for the first time, you feel the full weight of that reality.

You freeze as you hear the soft rustling of fabric and the faint sound of footsteps. Turning swiftly, you spot Daemon emerging from the shadows at the far end of your chamber, his presence as commanding as ever. He moves with a fluid grace, almost as if he’s accustomed to walking unnoticed, and before you can fully react, he’s already standing close, his piercing eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your heart race.

Daemon reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his touch, despite the coldness in the room. The gesture is unexpected, and for a moment, you’re caught off guard—unsure of whether to push him away or allow the contact.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” he asks, his voice low, his smirk barely concealed. There’s something almost mocking in the way he says it, as if the idea of you being alone, contemplating your future, amuses him. “You are not the first bride-to-be to feel lost in this place, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure you aren’t alone for long.”

You pull back slightly, trying to regain your composure. His presence fills the room in a way that’s both unsettling and undeniably magnetic. He seems to relish the power he holds over the situation, over you. It’s clear that he’s not here just for casual conversation.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you say, your voice sharp despite the uncertainty creeping in. “This is my room, not a place for you to wander in whenever you please.”

Daemon’s smile widens, though there’s a darkness lurking beneath it. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Expectations can be… limiting,” he murmurs, his hand still lingering on your cheek. “I’m here because I want to be. And I’m not known for following the rules.”

The way he speaks, the confident, almost predatory manner in which he carries himself, unsettles you. Yet there’s an undeniable pull—his presence is commanding, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re caught in his web, whether you like it or not.

“Why are you here?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more cautious. “Is this another game to you, Daemon?”

He tilts his head, studying you as if trying to read the very thoughts behind your eyes. “Games?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. “Perhaps. But I’m not a fool, and neither are you. We both know what this marriage is about. It’s not about love, or even companionship. It’s about power, survival, and what we can make of it.”

His fingers trace your jawline, sending a shiver through your body, but this time, you don’t flinch. “So, yes,” he continues, his voice a little softer, though the intensity still lingers. “It’s a game. But it’s also something more. And you… you have a role to play, whether you accept it or not.”

You stand still, caught between the impulse to push him away and the dawning realization that you must, somehow, find a way to navigate this union, this game, in a way that serves you. Daemon Targaryen may be a powerful figure, but that doesn’t mean you have to submit to him blindly.

“Don’t think you can control me,” you say, your voice firmer now, your eyes locking with his.

Daemon’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of approval in his eyes. “Control?” he repeats, as if savoring the word. “I never said anything about control. But don’t mistake me for a man who will be ignored, either.”

He steps back slightly, his hand falling from your face, but his gaze remains fixed on you—intense, unreadable, and as unpredictable as the storm clouds gathering in the distance. You can feel the tension thick in the air between you, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy.

“Remember,” Daemon adds softly, “this marriage may not be of your choosing, but it will be a union of power, of influence. And how you wield it will be up to you.”

With that, he turns, his cloak swirling behind him as he disappears back into the shadows from where he came, leaving you alone once more, the weight of his words settling in your mind.

You remain standing there for a long moment, your heart still racing, trying to make sense of the encounter. Daemon’s touch, his words, his presence—they all felt like a warning, a challenge, and a promise wrapped into one.

This marriage, this union… it will not be as simple as they want you to believe.

You watch as Daemon slowly fades into the shadows, his presence still lingering in the room, as if he has left behind more than just his physical form. A cold shiver runs down your spine, a mix of unease and something deeper—something you can’t quite name. You remain rooted in place for a long moment, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of his touch, his words, but they refuse to leave you.

With a deep, steadying breath, you turn away from the dark corner of the room, trying to collect your thoughts. You had expected your life to change, but not like this. Not with Daemon, not with the weight of House Targaryen looming over you. Yet, here you are, standing at the precipice of a future you never asked for, and there’s no turning back now.

Just as you’re lost in thought, the door creaks open, and several servants step inside, moving briskly toward you. They are efficient and polite, with no hint of judgment or curiosity in their eyes—just the practiced grace of those accustomed to serving in the Red Keep.

“My lady, it is time to prepare for the evening’s festivities,” one of them announces softly, her voice respectful but gentle. “your father requests that you be ready soon.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, and allow yourself to be guided toward the preparations. The weight of your thoughts shifts to the evening ahead. The grand dance, the ceremonial waltz of power and politics that you are now an integral part of. It’s strange to think of yourself as a player in this grand court, a mere pawn in a game that stretches far beyond your reach.

The servants begin to undress you with practiced care, replacing your simple clothes with the intricate, heavy gown that has been prepared for you. The fabric feels foreign against your skin—rich, cold, and undeniably royal. They twist your hair into an elegant updo, tucking every strand into place as if to remind you that tonight, you are not just yourself—you are a symbol of House Tyrell’s power, a future princess.

As they work, you find your mind drifting back to Daemon. His words replay in your head, his touch lingering on your skin. Despite everything, despite the storm of thoughts in your mind, you know one thing for certain: this night is only the beginning. The beginning of a journey you cannot avoid, no matter how hard you try.

Once they finish, the final touches are made, and you look at your reflection in the mirror. You are ready—at least, outwardly. Inside, the battle between your duty and your desires rages on. But there’s no time to dwell on that now. The evening awaits, and your role in it is clear.

As the final servant leaves, you take a deep breath and turn toward the door. Tonight, you will step into the world of the Targaryens, the world that Daemon has invited you into, and you will have to play the part. There will be no room for hesitation or doubt.

With one last glance at your reflection, you leave the room, walking toward the unknown that awaits you in the grand hall.

You gaze at your reflection in the mirror, the red gown clinging to your body in all the right places, the intricate design and fabric of the dress making you look like something both regal and untouchable. The deep crimson hue mirrors the fiery determination and turmoil churning inside you. Your hair is styled flawlessly, and you feel a strange mixture of power and vulnerability in the reflection staring back at you.

Just as you’re about to turn away, one of the servants steps forward, holding a small, velvet-lined box in her hands. She approaches quietly, her eyes respectful as she presents it to you. “My lady,” she says softly, “Prince Daemon has sent this for you to wear tonight.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Daemon, and a wave of unease floods over you. The box is opened, revealing the most beautiful piece of jewelry you’ve ever seen. Nestled within the box is a stunning ruby necklace, its deep red color rich and intense, like the blood of kings. It glistens in the light, its intricate design made of gold and delicate filigree, catching the light in such a way that it almost seems to pulse with life.

“His Grace requested that you wear this tonight,” the servant continues, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she knows the weight this piece of jewelry carries. “It is a gift for the evening’s festivities.”

Your fingers hover over the necklace, and for a moment, you feel the weight of Daemon’s gaze upon you. His presence, his influence, it is all around you now—through his words, through his gift. The necklace, while beautiful, feels more like a symbol than an ornament. It feels like a chain, a reminder of the role you’re about to play in the world of Targaryen politics.

You take the necklace from the box, and the servant helps you place it around your neck, fastening the clasp with careful hands. The cool weight of the ruby against your skin sends a shiver through you, but you force yourself to remain still, to remain composed. You are no longer just a Tyrell. You are now something more, something that belongs to the Targaryens—whether you like it or not.

As the servant steps back, you take a deep breath and adjust the necklace, staring at your reflection once more. You look every bit the part of a princess, of someone who belongs in the Targaryen court. But inside, the questions still linger. What does Daemon want from you with this gift? What does it mean? Is this a sign of favor—or something more insidious?

With a final glance at the servant, you nod to yourself. This night is inevitable, and you will walk into it with your head held high, no matter what Daemon’s intentions may be. The game is on, and whether you like it or not, you are a player now.

You leave your chamber, stepping into the hallway where the sound of music and laughter grows louder, and you move toward your fate. The ruby around your neck feels heavier with each step, as if it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

As you approach the grand doors of the throne room, your parents stand waiting, the regal elegance of their presence undeniable. Your father, Lord Tyrell, stands tall, his face a mask of calm authority, while your mother, Lady Tyrell, gazes at you with an expression of quiet admiration. Her eyes soften as they trace the delicate ruby necklace around your neck, and for a brief moment, you feel the weight of her approval. It’s a look that says so much more than words ever could, as if she understands the path you are being forced to walk, and yet, she is proud of how you carry yourself.

Your heart races as you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the moment ahead. This is it. This is the night where everything changes, and you step into a new world—a world of power, influence, and uncertainty. The weight of your new reality presses down on you like a mantle, but you hold your head high as you walk toward the doors.

The sound of the guards’ footsteps echoes in the hall, and as you reach the entrance, the heavy doors swing open. The loud voice of a herald announces your arrival.

“Presenting Lord and Lady Tyrell, and their daughter, Lady Tyrell, betrothed to Prince Daemon Targaryen!”

The words ring out across the vast chamber, and the eyes of everyone in the room fall on you. The grand hall of the Red Keep is filled with nobles, courtiers, and various dignitaries, all gathered for the night’s festivities. But it feels as if all eyes are on you now, studying you, measuring you. Your pulse quickens as you step forward, every movement deliberate and graceful, despite the storm of emotions swirling within.

The throne room is resplendent, with golden chandeliers casting a soft light over the gathered crowd. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting the history of House Targaryen, their dragons roaring and flying in intricate detail. The air is thick with the scent of fine wine, rich perfumes, and the soft murmurs of conversation. But in this moment, everything seems to slow down as you walk toward the center of the room, where the royal family awaits.

As you approach the royal table, your gaze meets King Jaehaerys, who is seated with an air of quiet power. His eyes flicker over you, an unreadable expression crossing his features before he nods in acknowledgment. Beside him, Prince Baelon stands with his usual stern demeanor, his gaze cool but respectful. And then, of course, there is Daemon. His eyes catch yours the moment you enter, and despite the crowd around him, it feels as though the rest of the world disappears for just a second. His lips curve into a knowing smile, one that sends a mix of unease and curiosity rippling through you.

The moment feels charged, as if everything is hanging in the balance. You are no longer just a Tyrell; you are now a part of the Targaryen story, and tonight will set the stage for everything that follows.

Your parents move to the side, and you step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you must embrace the future, no matter how uncertain it may be. You lower your gaze to the floor, curtsying in respect, before raising your head to meet the eyes of King Jaehaerys, Daemon, and the others.

The crowd watches in silence, the tension thick as the evening unfolds, and the weight of your decision, of this engagement, settles over you like a cloak you cannot cast off.

As you stand before the royal family, your eyes catch a glimpse of the serene and graceful figure of Princess Aemma, the wife of Prince Viserys. Her gentle smile is directed towards you, a silent acknowledgment that, despite everything, you are not alone in this court. Her delicate hand rests on her round belly, the life within her a reminder of the future of House Targaryen. You return her smile with a nod, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you like a heavy cloak.

But your attention is swiftly drawn back to Daemon as he rises from his seat, his movements fluid and confident. The eyes of the room seem to follow him, but he pays them no mind, his gaze fixed entirely on you. His presence is overwhelming, and for a brief moment, the air seems to thicken between you both, the tension palpable.

Daemon approaches you with that same predatory grace, and before you can react, he takes your hand in his. The coolness of his fingers against your skin sends an unexpected chill through you, but you don’t pull away. His touch is firm, commanding, as he raises your hand to his lips, brushing them against your skin in a manner both intimate and public.

The soft rustling of the crowd falls away, and his voice, low and almost a whisper, reaches your ear. “You wear it well,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “The ruby. You used it… just as I intended.”

You freeze for a moment, his words striking a chord deep within you. You hadn’t expected him to notice, to connect the necklace to something more than just a simple gift. But there is something in his voice—something that hints at a deeper understanding of the game you are now both playing.

Daemon pulls away slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a flicker of something unreadable. “The Targaryen blood runs thick, but your Tyrell strength… I can see it in you,” he says, his words both a compliment and a challenge. “Tonight, we show them who we are.”

Before you can fully process what he means, Daemon straightens up, his hand still lingering for just a moment before he releases yours. The world around you feels suddenly more real, the weight of this engagement, this court, this night—everything—is no longer just a distant concept. It is here, in this room, in this moment, and Daemon has just marked you in a way that you can’t ignore.

As he steps back, the music in the hall swells, and the courtiers begin to resume their conversations, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. But you are left with the echo of Daemon’s words in your mind, and the unsettling realization that this night is only the beginning of a journey you have little control over. You straighten your posture, your thoughts racing, but your gaze remains steady.

Daemon may have whispered those words, but you know that the game has just begun, and you will have to play it carefully, whether you’re ready or not.

The music swells, and Daemon steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. The moment feels charged, the entire room seemingly holding its breath as he places a hand firmly on your waist. You can feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of your gown, his fingers pressing gently but assertively. The dance has begun.

He leads you onto the floor with the grace of a man who has danced this many times before. His movements are confident, his body guiding you effortlessly through the steps. Despite the eyes of the entire room on you both, the closeness of your bodies feels intimate, almost private, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if anyone else can see the tension building between you and Daemon.

As you move in rhythm with the music, the world around you blurs, the noise of the court fading into the background. Your focus narrows to Daemon—his steady hand at your waist, the slight tension in his jaw, the way his gaze occasionally flickers to yours, as though testing you. The red ruby around your neck glints under the soft candlelight, and you can’t help but feel the weight of both the necklace and his gaze.

He leans in slightly, his lips just inches from your ear. “You dance beautifully,” he whispers, his voice a velvet caress against your skin, but there’s something dark behind the compliment. “But this… this is just the beginning.”

You meet his gaze, a mix of defiance and uncertainty bubbling inside you. “What do you mean?” you ask, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them.

Daemon smiles, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Everything here is a dance, my dear. You’ve only just started learning the steps. But we will both master it in time.”

The sound of the courtiers around you begins to fade back in as they join the dance, filling the floor with elegant figures twirling in harmony. Your moment with Daemon becomes a shared performance—everyone around you moving, their eyes trained on you both as you sway together. The music is sweet and slow, but beneath the surface, there’s an undercurrent of something far more dangerous, something unspoken that pulses between you and him.

Your movements grow more synchronized as the dance continues, and soon, the entire room is swept up in the rhythm, the energy of the event building. You can feel the weight of the room’s attention on you, but your thoughts remain fixated on Daemon, his hand never leaving your waist, his presence never wavering.

The dance floor becomes a stage, and in this moment, you and Daemon are the stars of the show, bound by an invisible thread that neither of you can fully unravel.

You make your way toward the royal table, offering a polite but hurried excuse to the courtiers around you. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you say, your voice laced with just enough feigned fatigue to seem believable. “The journey has left me rather drained.” Your gaze flickers to your parents, who, though surprised, offer a brief nod of understanding. The polite murmurs of the crowd fade as you slip away from the bustling celebration.

The corridors of the Red Keep are quieter now, a welcome contrast to the din of the ballroom. Your steps echo as you move through the familiar halls, each footfall a reminder of the weight on your shoulders, of the whispers and the secrets that hang heavy in the air.

You reach your room, the door creaking softly as you push it open. The room is dimly lit by the flickering glow of the candlelight, and the comforting solitude washes over you. You close the door behind you with a soft click, the world outside suddenly feeling distant and muted.

The weight of the evening’s events settles upon you like a physical burden. You approach the mirror, taking a deep breath. The reflection staring back at you seems foreign, like someone you barely recognize. Slowly, you begin to undo the intricate braids that hold your hair, the strands slipping free with each gentle tug. The weight of the ruby necklace feels heavier now, its once dazzling allure now a symbol of the very thing that has begun to change everything for you. You set it down on the vanity with a quiet finality.

Next, you begin to unlace the tight corset beneath your gown, the fabric finally loosening around your body, allowing you to breathe more freely. The delicate layers of your dress slip away, leaving you in the simpler, more comforting layers of your undergarments. You stand for a moment, letting your body relax, the tension of the evening melting away.

But as the final layer of your gown falls to the floor, leaving you standing in the solitude of your room, the silence feels oppressive. The weight of the words Daemon spoke earlier, the whispers of the court, the uncertainty of your future—all of it feels like a storm waiting to break.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, your mind racing. What had Daemon meant by his words? The future? Power? Survival? Did he truly see this marriage as a partnership, or was it merely another chess piece in a game neither of you had fully agreed to play?

The questions linger, unanswered, as you finally lean back against the pillows. The soft rustling of the fabric around you offers no comfort, no answer to the storm swirling inside you. With a deep breath, you close your eyes, knowing that the days ahead will only grow more complicated.

But for now, at least, you are alone with your thoughts. And that, for just this moment, is all you can bear.

The days have slipped by faster than you could have imagined. One moment, you were standing in the great hall, Daemon’s hand in yours, and now, it feels as though time has run away from you. Tomorrow marks the day that will change everything—the day you will marry Daemon. The realization is both exhilarating and terrifying, and as you sit in your room, your heart beats with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

You stand before a large mirror, the soft candlelight casting gentle shadows on your face. Your mother stands beside you, her hands gently smoothing the fabric of the wedding gown that rests over your body. The dress is a masterpiece, elegant and simple, with intricate lace and delicate pearls woven into the fabric, creating an aura of timeless beauty. The gown feels heavy, as if it carries the weight of the future with it.

“How does it feel, my dear?” your mother asks, her voice soft and warm. There’s a tenderness in her eyes, but also a flicker of something else—concern, perhaps, or fear. She’s seen the way you’ve carried yourself these past few days, the quiet distance in your eyes, the hesitation that lingers in your every movement. She knows how you’re feeling, even if you haven’t spoken the words aloud.

You take a deep breath, looking at your reflection. “It’s… beautiful,” you say, your voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “But I can’t help but wonder if I’m ready for this.”

Your mother steps closer, her hands resting gently on your shoulders as she looks at you in the mirror. “You are more than ready, my darling. You’ve always been strong—just like your father, just like me. And tomorrow, you will take the next step in ensuring the future of our house. Daemon… he is a man of power. You know that.”

Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the path that you’ve been set upon. Your mind drifts to Daemon—his presence, his words, the way he made you feel both desired and distant. You still don’t fully understand what he wants from this marriage, or what your role will truly be. But one thing is certain: this union will define your future, for better or worse.

“You know, you don’t have to go through with this if you truly feel it’s not right,” your mother continues, her voice soft, as if sensing the turmoil inside you. “But remember, sometimes the choices we make are for the greater good. For our family. For our legacy.”

You look up at her then, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I know,” you say quietly, the weight of her words sinking in. “I just wish I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Your mother smiles gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “No one ever truly knows what lies ahead. But you’re not alone in this. You have the strength of the Tyrells and the wisdom of the Targaryens in your blood. You will find your way.”

Her reassurance brings you a measure of comfort, but a knot of uncertainty still lingers in your chest. As you stand there in the gown, the future seems both distant and frighteningly close. Tomorrow, you will walk down the aisle, and your life with Daemon will begin.

You glance at your reflection once more, your heart heavy but resolute. No matter what comes next, you will face it with the strength and grace that your family expects of you. The time for hesitation is over. Tomorrow, you will step into your new life, whatever that may bring.

You freeze for a moment, the sudden sound of Daemon’s voice breaking the quiet of your room. You hadn’t heard him approach, but the smooth, confident tone of his voice tells you he’s been there for longer than you realize. A feeling of both surprise and tension rises in your chest as you glance toward the direction of the sound, your gaze following the faint rustling of the curtains.

Daemon steps into the soft moonlight, his presence as commanding as ever, even in the stillness of your chamber. In his hand, he holds a glass of wine, the ruby liquid catching the light as he approaches you. His gaze is steady, watching you with that same intensity that both unnerves and draws you in.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You just stand there, silently observing each other. His eyes travel over you—the gown you wear, the way the moonlight seems to soften your features, but it’s hard to tell what’s in his mind. You can feel the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air between you, a sense of anticipation that seems to fill the room.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Daemon finally says, his voice low, almost amused. “But I thought you might need something to help ease your nerves.” He holds out the glass toward you, the offering an unexpected gesture. The deep red wine glows softly in the dim light, tempting you with its warmth.

You study him for a moment, wondering why he’s here, why he’s come so late. Is it simply to check on you before tomorrow, or is there something more? A flicker of uncertainty tugs at your chest, but you quickly push it away. You’ve already made your choice.

You walk toward him, your steps quiet on the stone floor, and reach for the glass. His fingers brush yours briefly, sending an unexpected jolt through your body. His touch lingers for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before he releases the glass into your hand.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice a little softer than you intended, your eyes briefly meeting his. For a moment, you think you see a flash of something deeper in his gaze—an unreadable emotion that quickly disappears behind his usual guarded expression.

Daemon leans against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes never leaving you. “Tomorrow,” he begins, his voice now lower, “changes everything. You know that, don’t you?"

You nod, your fingers tightening around the stem of the glass as the weight of his words settles in. “I do,” you reply quietly, unsure of how much more to say.

“Good,” he murmurs, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Because it’s not just the kingdom that will change tomorrow. You will, too. And there’s no turning back.”

The finality of his words hangs in the air, a reminder that once you step into tomorrow, there is no going back to the life you once knew. You can feel the tension rising between you both, a complex mix of emotions that neither of you has fully expressed yet.

Daemon steps closer again, his presence filling the space between you. His voice drops to a whisper, just low enough that it feels like an intimate confession. “But I think you already know that. And perhaps… you’re ready for it.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, wondering what he truly means by that.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel Daemon’s lips brush against yours. The kiss is brief but electric, sending a shiver through your entire body. It’s soft, almost tender, yet laced with an undeniable intensity. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Daemon pulls back, his lips curling into that familiar, enigmatic smile.

Without saying a word, he turns, his movements graceful and confident, and steps back into the shadows. The room seems to grow even quieter as he fades into the darkness, leaving you alone with a lingering warmth on your lips and a rush of confusion swirling in your chest.

You stand frozen for a moment, the kiss echoing in your mind, its meaning elusive. You lift a trembling hand to your lips, feeling the faint trace of his touch still there. What was that? What did it mean? And why did he leave without another word?

The silence in the room feels deafening now. The wine in your hand, once a source of comfort, suddenly feels heavy. You don’t know if you’re ready for the emotional storm that’s brewing inside you, the mixture of desire, fear, and uncertainty that Daemon has stirred within you with a single, fleeting kiss.

Your mind races, and for a long moment, you just stand there, trying to collect yourself. His words, his actions—they’re a mystery you don’t yet have the answers to. And as the last traces of his presence fade into the night, you’re left with more questions than before.

What do you truly want from this marriage? From him? And how much of yourself are you willing to give away in the pursuit of a future that is no longer entirely yours to shape?

The night feels heavier now, the weight of everything pressing down on you as you stand alone, still feeling the warmth of his touch on your lips.

The day has finally arrived. The weight of it presses down on you as you sit in front of the large mirror in your chamber. The room is alive with movement—your mother directing the servants, Aemma offering quiet words of encouragement, and your handmaidens working carefully to perfect every detail of your appearance.

Your wedding gown is a masterpiece. The fabric shimmers faintly with every movement, a blend of white and pale gold, symbolizing both your Tyrell roots and the union with House Targaryen. The lacework is intricate, delicate flowers and vines winding along the sleeves and bodice. Around your waist, a small belt of golden roses serves as a subtle nod to your house. The long, flowing train trails behind you like a river of silk, and the soft veil drapes over your head, light as air, yet it feels heavier with each passing second.

Your hair has been braided in the traditional Targaryen style, an acknowledgment of the house you will now be tied to. The braids are adorned with tiny pearl pins that catch the light as you move, and strands of your hair frame your face softly. One of your handmaidens carefully places the final flower—a pale blue lily—among the braids, a finishing touch that makes you look almost ethereal.

“Look at you,” your mother says, her voice filled with pride as she stands behind you. Her hands rest gently on your shoulders, and you see her reflection in the mirror. Her gaze is soft, though there’s something more in her eyes—a mixture of pride, sadness, and perhaps a hint of worry. “You look every bit the queen you were always meant to be.”

“Not a queen,” you reply softly, your gaze fixed on your reflection. “A princess, a wife.”

“A princess today,” Aemma interjects gently, stepping forward. She places a hand on your cheek, her smile kind and knowing. “But tomorrow, who knows what fate will bring? Queens are not born, child. They are made.” Her words linger, filling you with something you can’t quite name—hope, perhaps, or warning.

You take a slow breath, glancing at your reflection. For a moment, you barely recognize yourself. You look regal, untouchable, like one of the porcelain figures you used to play with as a child. But beneath all the silk, pearls, and flowers, it is still you—just a girl about to face something far greater than she ever imagined.

“Does it feel right?” Aemma asks, tilting her head as she studies you closely. “The gown, the flowers, all of it?”

You glance at your mother, who looks at you with quiet encouragement, and then back at Aemma. “It feels… heavier than I expected,” you admit, your fingers brushing the fabric of your dress. “But I suppose that’s how it’s meant to be, isn’t it? Every choice we make feels heavier when it becomes permanent.”

“Wise words,” Aemma says with a soft smile. “But know this—you may feel bound by duty, by house and family, but you are not without power. Do not forget that.”

Her words offer you a brief sense of reassurance, though they also stir something deeper inside you. Power. It is a word that has followed you like a shadow ever since your betrothal was announced.

The servants step back, their work complete. One of them hands you your bouquet—a carefully arranged bundle of white roses, blue lilies, and soft green leaves. The floral scent is fresh, clean, and grounding.

“Take one last look,” your mother says as she steps aside. “Because the next time you see yourself like this, you’ll be walking down that aisle.”

You glance once more at your reflection, taking in every detail. The girl you see is no longer the same person she was yesterday. She is poised, elegant, and strong. But beneath it all, she is still you.

With a deep breath, you rise from your seat, the weight of the gown settling around you like armor. Your mother adjusts your veil one last time, letting it fall perfectly behind you. Aemma offers you a reassuring smile, her gaze firm and steady.

“It’s time,” your mother says softly, her voice filled with emotion she tries to hide. “Are you ready?”

Your heart beats steadily in your chest, a steady rhythm that echoes through your entire being. You grip the bouquet tightly, feeling its thorns pressing faintly against your fingers.

“I am,” you say, your voice clear and certain. “I’m ready.”

With that, you turn toward the door, your veil trailing behind you like a river of light. The world outside awaits—the noble houses, the court, and Daemon himself. Each step you take will lead you closer to a future you can no longer escape, but one that, perhaps, you can still shape.

The rhythmic creaking of the carriage wheels fills the air as you sit beside your mother and father, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest. Your fingers twist anxiously around the fabric of your gown, the silk smooth and cool beneath your fingertips. Despite the grandeur of the occasion, your heart beats loudly in your ears, drowning out the soft murmurs of your parents.

Your mother notices your fidgeting and places a gentle hand over yours. Her touch is warm, grounding you as she gazes at you with that calm, steady look she always gives you in moments of doubt. “Breathe, sweetling,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the clatter of the carriage. “You look perfect. Every eye will be on you, but they will see only your grace and beauty.”

Her words are meant to reassure you, but they only make the weight in your chest feel heavier. Every eye will be on you. Not as yourself, but as a symbol of something greater — a marriage that would bind House Tyrell and House Targaryen forever.

Your father sits across from you, his hands resting on the head of his cane, his gaze fixed firmly out the window. He has been unusually quiet since you left the Red Keep, his expression unreadable. His sharp eyes flicker toward you for a brief moment, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You’re doing what’s expected of you,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but not unkind. “This marriage is your duty, and you will fulfill it with dignity and strength.” His words are as sharp as ever, but there is a strange sort of pride beneath them. He has always spoken to you this way, as if molding you into something unbreakable. Today is no different.

You nod, though his words leave a hollow ache in your chest. Duty. Dignity. Strength. You’ve heard them all your life. They have guided you, shaped you, and now, they are about to define you.

The light filtering through the carriage window shifts as the carriage begins to slow. You glance out and feel your breath catch in your throat. The Great Sept of Baelor rises before you, its grand domes and stained glass windows glistening in the morning sun like a crown of jewels. People line the streets, their voices a mixture of cheers, gasps, and murmured prayers. Flowers are scattered on the ground, a soft path of white petals leading to the steps of the Sept.

The sight is breathtaking — and overwhelming. You feel the full weight of every gaze upon you. They are here for the spectacle, to witness history in the making. They do not see you. They see a bride, a symbol, a promise of power and legacy.

The carriage comes to a slow stop, the clattering of wheels replaced by the distant hum of the crowd. Your heart beats faster. This is it. No turning back. No running away.

“Stand tall,” your father says as he steps down from the carriage first, offering his hand to help you descend. “Show them who you are.”

Your mother exits next, giving you one last glance filled with quiet encouragement. Her eyes glisten, though she blinks away whatever emotion threatens to show.

Finally, it is your turn. The carriage door swings open, and the soft breeze of the open air greets you. Your eyes catch the first glimmers of sunlight reflecting off the stained glass of the Sept, casting colors of blue, red, and green across the stone steps. You take a breath, slow and steady, letting it fill your lungs. Show them who you are.

You place your hand in your father’s, his grip strong and steady, and step out of the carriage. The crowd erupts into cheers. The air is filled with the scent of flowers and incense, the warmth of the sun on your skin making everything feel surreal. Every eye is on you. Just as your mother said.

Your gaze remains forward as you ascend the steps, the long train of your gown flowing behind you like a river of silk and lace. The Great Sept’s bells ring in the distance, their deep, resounding chimes echoing across King’s Landing. It is a sound that makes the air feel heavier, more sacred.

At the top of the steps, waiting for you at the grand entrance, is Daemon. His silver hair gleams like molten silver in the sun, his armor polished to perfection, but it’s his eyes that catch you. He is watching you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. His gaze is not like the crowd’s. It is sharper, more deliberate, like he sees you and no one else.

He stands tall in his Targaryen armor, the three-headed dragon emblazoned on his chest. There is no crown on his head, but he looks every bit a prince. His smirk is subtle, barely there, but you see it. That quiet confidence, that knowing look that tells you he is fully aware of the spectacle before him — and he enjoys it.

As you approach, his eyes remain on you, unwavering, unreadable. The steps seem longer than they should be, each one a reminder of how far you’ve come. Finally, you reach him, and for a brief moment, it is just the two of you. The world fades away — the crowd, the bells, the weight of duty — and all that remains is him.

Daemon steps forward, his gaze never leaving yours. He extends a hand to you, and for a heartbeat, you hesitate. Is this truly what you want? you wonder. But then you remember Aemma’s words. Queens are not born. They are made.

With steady resolve, you place your hand in his. His fingers curl around yours, firm and warm. He leans in, close enough that only you can hear him.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. “Nervous, little flower?”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze with all the strength you can summon. “No,” you reply firmly, though your heart betrays you with its quickened pace. “I am simply ready.”

His smirk widens just a fraction, a glimmer of something playful, perhaps even impressed. He turns, leading you inside the Great Sept. The light from the stained glass windows paints the stone floor in brilliant hues of red, blue, and green. Each step echoes softly as you walk together, hand in hand, toward the altar where the High Septon awaits.

The nobles of Westeros line the aisles, all eyes on you once more. You see familiar faces among them—lords and ladies from noble houses, your family, and even Aemma, watching you with quiet pride. Whispers follow your every move, but you do not falter.

As you approach the altar, the High Septon raises his hands, calling for silence. The Sept grows still. You can hear every breath, every faint shift of cloth. Daemon stands beside you, his hand still holding yours. You glance at him briefly, and for the first time, he is not looking at the crowd, the Septon, or the nobles. He is looking at you.

“Let us begin,” the High Septon declares, his voice echoing through the hall.

The ceremony is a blur of words, oaths, and promises. You speak them all clearly, every vow falling from your lips with certainty. Daemon’s voice is steady as he repeats the words, his eyes never leaving yours. The world feels smaller now, like it’s only the two of you standing there.

When it is done, the High Septon raises his hands. “By the light of the Seven, I declare them husband and wife. May their union be strong, their line unbroken, and their love enduring.”

The Sept erupts in applause. The sound crashes over you like a wave, and for a moment, you are breathless. The High Septon turns to Daemon with a nod.

“You may kiss your bride, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon steps closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar, wicked way. Slowly, he lifts your veil, his fingers brushing your cheek as he pushes it back. The crowd fades once more, the sound of their cheers dull and distant.

He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked on yours, as if daring you to look away. But you don’t. You meet his gaze, unwavering, unafraid.

“Here we are,” he murmurs, his voice just for you.

“Here we are,” you reply, and before you can say anything more, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is firm, claiming, and yet somehow soft. The world seems to hold its breath as Daemon Targaryen, your husband, pulls you closer. His hand rests at the small of your back, grounding you, anchoring you to this moment. The cheers of the crowd grow louder, but you hardly hear them.

The cheers of the crowd still echo in your ears as you sit beside Daemon in the carriage. The air is thick with the sweet scent of flowers from the Great Sept, and the faint clattering of hooves on cobblestone fills the silence between you. Your gown feels heavier than it did before, the weight of everything — the vows, the kiss, the future — pressing down on you.

Daemon sits beside you, one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped casually along the edge of the seat. His silver hair catches the faint glow of sunlight that seeps through the window, making him look like something out of legend. He tilts his head toward you, his eyes sharp, watchful, and filled with something you can’t quite name.

“You’re quiet,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. His gaze flickers to your hands, which rest neatly in your lap, fingers still clutching the edge of your gown. “Nervous, little flower?”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, your expression calm despite the storm of thoughts in your mind. “I have no reason to be,” you reply, your voice steady, though a hint of weariness slips through. “I did as was expected of me. And now, so have you.”

His eyes narrow, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “Expected of me?” He shifts, leaning forward, his face closer to yours now. His voice drops to a low murmur, carrying the weight of something more dangerous. “You think I wed you out of duty alone?”

You hold his gaze, refusing to look away. “Isn’t that what marriage is for people like us? Duty and power. Nothing more.”

There is a pause — a flicker of something that could be surprise or intrigue in his eyes. Then, he lets out a soft, short laugh, leaning back into his seat. “Perhaps. But power comes in many forms, little wife. And duty… well, it tastes sweeter when shared with someone clever.”

His words linger in the air like smoke, curling around your thoughts. You glance at him, studying his face for any sign of sincerity or mockery, but, as always, he is impossible to read.

“You sound as though you plan to enjoy it,” you say cautiously, tilting your head ever so slightly.

His grin widens, wicked and knowing. “I always enjoy what is mine.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, though you do not show it. What is mine. There it is again — that sense of possession, of control. You are his now, by law, by faith, and by the eyes of every noble in Westeros. But just as he has claimed you, you have claimed him.

The carriage jostles slightly as it moves over uneven ground, and the sound of the crowd begins to fade into the distance. Your gaze shifts to the window, watching as the familiar towers of the Red Keep draw closer. The sun glints off the red stone walls, and you feel a strange mix of relief and dread.

The feast awaits. Another spectacle, another performance. More eyes, more whispers, more judgment. It would not end, not today, not ever.

“Are you afraid of them?” Daemon asks suddenly, his eyes still fixed on you. “The nobles. The lords and ladies who will watch your every move tonight.”

You glance at him, your brows furrowing just slightly. “Should I be?”

He hums thoughtfully, his eyes dancing with mischief. “No. They are like hounds, sniffing for weakness. But if you show them none, they will kneel.” He leans closer, his voice soft but sharp as a blade. “Show them the rose, but never the thorn. That is how you win.”

His words echo something your father once told you. It is a lesson you have heard all your life, but hearing it from Daemon makes it feel different. He is not like your father. He is wild flame, not tempered steel.

“Wise words, husband,” you reply, turning to face him fully. Your eyes meet his, unwavering. “But I am not just a rose. I have thorns, and I know when to use them.”

His eyes darken with something you can’t name. Amusement? Respect? Perhaps both. He leans back once more, his grin widening as he taps a finger against his knee.

“Good,” he says, his voice like a purr. “I would hate to have a boring wife.”

Silence settles over the carriage once more, but it is different now. The tension is still there, but it has shifted — no longer suffocating, but sharp and aware. You feel it in the way Daemon watches you, like a cat watching a bird just out of reach. He is testing you, just as you are testing him.

The gates of the Red Keep loom ahead. The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The clatter of the carriage wheels begins to slow, the gentle pull of momentum drawing to a stop. Outside, you hear the distant calls of guards and the sound of footsteps.

Your heart tightens for a moment, knowing what comes next. Another performance, another step toward a future you cannot escape.

Daemon is already on his feet before the carriage door is even opened. The guards outside pull it wide, and the light spills in, illuminating his figure as he steps out first, his black and red cloak sweeping behind him like wings. He turns back, his hand outstretched toward you.

You hesitate, but only for a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you place your hand in his, letting him guide you down from the carriage. The crowd within the Red Keep courtyard is smaller but no less watchful. Nobles, servants, and guards alike pause in their tasks to turn and watch. You feel their stares like pinpricks on your skin.

Daemon’s grip on your hand tightens just slightly as you walk together, side by side. His head is held high, his posture that of a dragon who knows he is feared. You mirror him, lifting your chin as you walk with steady grace, every step measured, deliberate, queenly.

The nobles bow as you pass, some low, some shallow, but all respectful. Whispers follow you like the rustle of leaves in the wind. You catch snatches of their words — “beautiful,” “Tyrell,” “Targaryen bride.” The names of houses swirl around you like a storm, but you do not react. You are stone, unyielding, unbreakable.

As you approach the entrance to the Keep, Daemon leans in, his voice low and teasing by your ear. “They’ll be watching you all night, little flower. Waiting to see if you wilt.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Then let them watch. A rose does not wilt in the eyes of lesser flowers.”

Daemon laughs, a genuine, full laugh that echoes off the stone walls. The sound draws more stares, but neither of you care. His eyes gleam with something dangerous and delighted as he gazes at you, his bride, his wife.

“I knew it would be you,” he says softly, just for you. “From the moment I saw you in the Sept. No one else would have suited me.”

You glance up at him, brow raised. “I wonder, husband, if that is meant as a compliment or a warning.”

“Both,” he says, his grin sharp as a blade.

He guides you inside the Red Keep, where the torches burn brighter than the sun outside. The air is filled with the distant hum of music, the clinking of goblets, and the scent of roasted meat and sweetwine. The wedding feast awaits. Lords and ladies will gather, faces hidden behind smiles and masks of courtesy. There will be toasts, jests, and glances filled with envy and doubt.

But you are not afraid.

Daemon’s words echo in your mind. Show them the rose, but never the thorn.

No. You will show them both.

With each step deeper into the Red Keep, you feel the weight of your new role settle on your shoulders. You glance once more at Daemon, his eyes forward, his confidence as unshakable as the stones of Dragonstone itself.

Your grip on his hand tightens.

He glances down at you, eyes sharp and curious.

“You and I,” you murmur, low and certain, “will be more than they ever expected.”

Daemon tilts his head, his eyes narrowing with interest, his smirk returning in full force. “Yes,” he says, his voice filled with dangerous promise. “We will.”

And as you enter the grand hall where your wedding feast awaits, you feel it — the power in every glance, every step, every breath. This is your night. Your house may have offered you up as a rose, but you will bloom as something far more dangerous.

They will see your beauty.

But soon, they will know your thorns.

The grand doors to the throne room swing open with a low, resonating creak. The light of a hundred flickering torches dances on the polished stone floor, illuminating the space with a warm, golden glow. The cold, commanding aura of the Iron Throne is softened by the vibrant colors of the decorations. Rich red and gold banners hang from the high ceilings, sigils of House Targaryen and House Tyrell displayed side by side. Flower arrangements — red roses for your house, and dragonfire lilies for his — fill the room with a heady, sweet fragrance.

Daemon’s hand rests firmly on yours as he guides you inside, his grip steady and possessive. Your gown sweeps behind you like a river of white and gold, the delicate embroidery shimmering with every step. The room is filled with nobles from every corner of Westeros, their eyes fixed on you. Lords and ladies bow their heads as you pass, their gazes sharp with curiosity, envy, and judgment.

“All eyes on us, little flower,” Daemon murmurs lowly, his voice laced with amusement. “They’ll be watching to see if the rose wilts under the weight of the dragon.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, tilting your head slightly as you whisper back, “Let them watch. I’ll show them how a rose blooms under fire.”

His grin widens, sharp and wolfish, and his grip on your hand tightens for a moment in approval.

At the far end of the hall, King Jaehaerys sits on the Iron Throne, regal as ever despite his years. His white beard flows down his chest, and his eyes, though kind, are watchful. At his side stands Prince Baelon, his posture straight and proud, and next to him is Princess Alyssa, who offers you a warm smile. Beside them, Prince Viserys stands with his pregnant wife, Aemma, her hands gently cradling her growing belly.

As you and Daemon approach the royal table, the herald steps forward, his voice booming across the hall.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Tyrell, now husband and wife!”

Applause erupts from the crowd, a sea of clapping hands and murmurs of approval. You feel the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders, but you do not falter. With your head held high, you meet the gaze of every noble brave enough to stare for too long.

Daemon leads you to the head table, where two seats have been prepared beside the king. The chair feels larger than it should, its grandeur meant to emphasize the significance of the place you now hold. Daemon sits beside you, his posture relaxed, as though this is where he was always meant to be. He leans back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a dragon surveying its domain.

King Jaehaerys rises from his seat, his golden cloak draped heavily over his shoulders. The room falls silent at once. All eyes turn to the king, and even the faintest whisper dies in the air. He raises a hand, his voice clear and commanding despite his age.

“Today, we bear witness to a union of fire and bloom,” he proclaims, his voice echoing through the hall. “House Targaryen and House Tyrell, bound together in strength, in unity, and in purpose.” He turns his gaze to you and Daemon, his eyes filled with wisdom and authority. “May this marriage be as enduring as the roots of Highgarden and as unyielding as the flames of our dragons.”

Another round of applause fills the hall, and you bow your head in respect. Jaehaerys raises his goblet, and the hall follows, their goblets raised high in the air. “To Prince Daemon and his bride!” he declares.

“To Prince Daemon and his bride!” the crowd echoes, their voices like a chorus of thunder.

Daemon raises his own goblet, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He leans toward you, his eyes flickering with mischief as he murmurs, “Drink, little flower. They’re watching.”

You glance at him, your eyes narrowing slightly in defiance, but you do as he says. Lifting your goblet, you meet his gaze as you drink, letting the sweet tang of wine linger on your tongue. He watches you closely, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a moment, it feels as though there are only the two of you in the hall, locked in a silent battle of wills.

The music begins to play, the gentle strumming of lutes and the deep hum of drums filling the air. All eyes shift toward the center of the room, where the space has been cleared for the first dance. Daemon rises from his chair, offering his hand to you once more.

“Shall we, wife?” he says with a teasing grin, tilting his head just slightly.

You glance at his hand, then meet his gaze with quiet resolve. Slowly, you place your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet. The hall watches with anticipation as you step onto the dance floor together. The music shifts, growing louder and more rhythmic, the steady beat of the drums like the thundering of a heartbeat.

Daemon’s hand rests lightly on your waist, his fingers curling ever so slightly as he draws you closer. His other hand takes yours, his grip firm but not forceful. Your free hand settles on his shoulder, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of his tunic. For a moment, the world narrows down to the space between you and him. His eyes lock onto yours, sharp as Valyrian steel, and you feel the hum of energy between you.

“Don’t look down,” he says softly, his voice so close to your ear that it sends a shiver down your spine. “They’re watching.”

You tilt your head, lips curving into a faint smile. “Then let them watch.”

The dance begins.

The two of you move with the music, each step practiced but not without grace. Your movements are precise, every turn and spin guided by his hands. The room blurs around you, faces melding into indistinct shapes as you focus on Daemon — on his eyes, his smirk, the way he moves with the confidence of a man who has never doubted himself.

He twirls you, and your gown flares out like petals in bloom. Gasps and murmurs of admiration rise from the crowd. When he pulls you back to him, his hand presses firmly against your back, his eyes dark with something more intense than pride.

“You’re doing well,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. “But I expected no less from you.”

“Careful, husband,” you reply, your breath even despite the pace of the dance. “Compliments from you sound dangerously close to affection.”

His grin is quick, wicked. “Perhaps I’m feeling generous tonight.”

The final note of the music echoes through the hall, and the two of you come to a stop. You’re so close that you can see every flicker of firelight reflected in his violet eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest, but not from the dance alone. His gaze holds you in place, unrelenting and unwavering.

The room erupts into applause, loud and thunderous. Lords and ladies rise from their seats, clapping and cheering. Daemon releases you slowly, his fingers trailing down your arm as if reluctant to let you go. His eyes linger on you for just a moment longer before he turns to the crowd, his grin sharper than ever.

He raises a hand, silencing the applause. “Eat, drink, and be merry,” he calls out, his voice cutting through the noise. “For tonight, we celebrate not just a union, but a conquest.” His eyes flick to you, his grin curling into something more dangerous. “A victory for us both.”

The lords cheer, raising their goblets high, and the servants begin to bring forth trays of food and pitchers of wine. The hall fills with music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets.

Daemon turns back to you, offering his arm. “Shall we, little flower?”

You place your hand on his arm, your gaze steady, your chin lifted high. “Yes, husband,” you say softly, your voice carrying all the quiet power you’ve kept hidden. “Let them see what victory looks like.”

The two of you return to your place at the head table, side by side, facing the hall of nobles and onlookers. You feel the weight of their stares, their whispers, but none of it matters. Not tonight.

Daemon sits with the ease of a man born to rule, his hand idly resting on the arm of his chair. You sit beside him, as regal and steady as the roots of Highgarden.

The feast continues, but you know one thing for certain.

They may call you a rose, but tonight, they will see your thorns.

As the feast continues, the lively clamor of laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets fills the grand hall. Despite the noise, your world feels quieter as you turn to face Daemon. His gaze is sharp as ever, his features carved with the confidence of a man who knows his worth. Yet, tonight, you notice something different — a subtle shift in his eyes when he looks at you, something softer than the sharp edge he shows the world.

You sip your wine, letting the warmth settle in your chest before speaking. “You’re not what I expected, Daemon.”

He raises a brow, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what did you expect, little flower? A monster with sharp teeth and claws?”

“Perhaps,” you reply, tilting your head as you study him. “They call you the Rogue Prince, after all. A man ruled by impulse, driven by chaos and ambition.”

He chuckles, low and rich like a purr. “Ah, titles are like cloaks. Useful when worn, but beneath them, we’re all just flesh and bone.” He leans in slightly, his violet eyes fixed on yours. “Tell me, do you think I’m a monster?”

You meet his gaze, unflinching. “No. Monsters don’t get nervous.”

His grin falters for just a heartbeat — so quick that most would miss it. But you see it. His eyes flicker briefly, a crack in the mask he wears so well. He leans back in his chair, swirling the wine in his goblet as if to distract himself.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” he admits, his eyes still on the wine.

“You’re better at hiding it than most,” you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. “But not from me.”

He glances at you then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Silence stretches between you for a moment, comfortable but charged with unspoken meaning. Finally, you decide to ask the question that has lingered in your mind since the day you learned of the betrothal.

“Why did you agree to this marriage, Daemon?” you ask, your voice quiet but firm. “You could have refused. You have always been known to defy expectations.”

He goes still, his fingers pausing on the stem of his goblet. His eyes shift to yours, and for a moment, he seems to weigh his answer. His smirk is gone, replaced by something far more genuine — something raw.

“I agreed,” he says slowly, his voice quieter now, “because I wanted it.” His eyes hold yours, steady and unwavering. “Years ago, when I accompanied my grandfather to Highgarden, I saw you in the gardens.” He exhales through his nose, his gaze distant as if seeing the memory play out before him. “You were surrounded by roses, and you were laughing with your maids. You had dirt on your hands from planting flowers, but you didn’t care. You looked… free.”

You blink, surprise washing over you like a sudden breeze. “You remember that?”

“Of course, I do,” he replies, his voice steady but his eyes carrying a weight of something long kept hidden. “I stood there longer than I should have, watching you laugh. It was the first time I’d seen something so simple yet so… whole.” He breathes deeply and turns to you, his eyes piercing. “I told myself then that if I ever had to marry, I would marry you.”

His words hit you harder than you expect. You feel the warmth rise to your cheeks, but you keep your composure. “And yet, you said nothing until now,” you say softly, tilting your head. “Why not speak of it before?”

“Because I’m a fool,” he admits, his grin returning, but it’s smaller, softer. “Or maybe because I didn’t think fate would be so kind to me.” His gaze shifts, watching you closely. “And now here you are, seated beside me, not as a dream, but as my wife.”

You don’t look away, and for the first time, the weight of the feast, the eyes of the lords and ladies, and the whispers of onlookers all seem to fade into nothing. The only thing that matters is this moment.

“I suppose fate can be cruel,” you murmur, lips curling into a knowing smile, “but tonight, it seems she has been kind.”

Daemon’s gaze narrows slightly, his grin returning in full force. “Careful, little flower. Say too many sweet things, and I might think you’ve fallen for me.”

You arch a brow, lifting your goblet to your lips as you take a slow, deliberate sip of wine. “Maybe I have,” you say lightly, setting the goblet down and looking at him from beneath your lashes. “But I suppose you’ll have to wait and see.”

His eyes darken with that familiar fire, and his grin becomes something more — a promise of trouble and devotion all at once. “I can be patient, wife,” he says, his voice low and rough like a storm brewing on the horizon. “But not for too long.”

The music shifts, another lively tune filling the hall, but the two of you remain still, locked in a silent understanding that words could never fully capture.

Tonight, fate has been kind indeed.

You laugh softly at Daemon’s story, his wit sharper than any blade. But your laughter fades as the sound of approaching footsteps echoes behind you. You glance over your shoulder and see Otto Hightower, your father’s kin and the Hand of the King. His face is as composed as ever, a mask of politeness with eyes that see far too much.

“Congratulations on your union,” Otto says smoothly, his voice calm yet purposeful. His gaze shifts between you and Daemon, lingering on your husband for a moment too long. “A fine match, one that will no doubt strengthen the ties between our houses.”

You nod politely, offering a small smile. “Thank you, Lord Hightower. Your words are most kind.”

But you can feel the shift in the air. Daemon stiffens beside you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his goblet. His eyes narrow, fixed on Otto like a predator watching prey. The playful warmth he had while speaking with you is gone, replaced by a sharp, simmering edge.

“How gracious of you to offer your blessing, Otto,” Daemon drawls, his tone dripping with mockery. He tilts his head, his smile sharp like the edge of a dagger. “Though I wonder if it pains you to see me gain something you could not control.”

Otto’s jaw tightens, but his smile remains. “I only seek the prosperity of the realm, Prince Daemon. Your marriage serves that purpose well enough.” His gaze flickers to you for the briefest moment. “It is always wise to guide wild flames before they burn out of control.”

Daemon lets out a low, humorless laugh. “Careful, Otto. You speak as though you’ve forgotten who commands fire in this realm.” His voice drops lower, more dangerous. “And who is merely ash beneath it.”

The tension coils tight between them, sharp and ready to snap. You place a hand lightly on Daemon’s arm, feeling the taut muscle beneath his sleeve. He glances at you, his hard gaze softening just enough to acknowledge your presence.

“Perhaps tonight is not the time for old rivalries,” you say firmly, looking between them both. “It is a night of celebration, not division.”

Otto’s eyes meet yours, calculating and assessing. For a moment, he says nothing, then bows his head. “Of course, Lady Tyrell. Forgive me. I meant no offense.”

You can feel the tension between them, as sharp and volatile as wildfire. For a moment, it seems as though Otto might push back, but he only tilts his head in mock understanding. “She is no longer ‘Lady Tyrell’ to you.”

Otto’s brows lift just a fraction, his eyes flicking briefly to you before settling back on Daemon. “My apologies, Prince Daemon,” he says, his tone polite but firm. “Old habits, you understand.”

Daemon’s lips curve into a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Old habits can be broken,” he replies coldly, his eyes narrowing. He gestures toward you with a sweeping motion, his gaze never leaving Otto. “She is Princess now. Best you remember it, lest your tongue slip again.”

“Of course,” Otto says slowly, folding his hands behind his back. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, calculating and watchful. “Princess,” he adds with an exaggerated formality, bowing just enough to follow decorum but not a step further.

Daemon’s eyes follow him like a hawk tracking prey. His jaw is set, his fingers tapping the rim of his goblet with restless precision. “That man poisons every room he enters,” he mutters, his eyes still locked on Otto.

You lean in just a little, tilting your head toward him. “Then let him choke on his own venom, husband,” you whisper, your voice laced with quiet defiance.

Daemon blinks, then slowly turns his gaze back to you. A grin spreads across his face, wild and dangerous, but there’s pride in it too. He raises his goblet toward you in a silent toast. “To clever wives,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“And to husbands who know when to listen,” you reply, clinking your goblet lightly against his.

The fire in his eyes burns brighter. “You and I, little flower,” he says softly, his voice low like a secret shared in the dark, “will burn this world brighter than they can ever imagine.”

The joyful hum of music and clinking goblets fills the hall, but all you can hear is the rapid beat of your heart. The bedding ceremony. The very mention of it had lingered in your mind all night, and now, as the hour draws near, a subtle unease creeps in.

Your gaze flickers to Daemon, who is seated beside you. His posture is as relaxed as ever, leaning back in his chair like a king on his throne. His sharp eyes scan the room, half-lidded with boredom, but there’s a flicker of awareness in them. He knows. He always knows.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the edge of your goblet, your knuckles pale beneath the soft glow of the firelight. You feel your mother’s gaze on you, steady and supportive, but even she cannot help you now. Tradition is tradition, and the eyes of the realm are watching.

A loud voice echoes through the hall — one of the lords, his cheeks flushed from too much wine. “It is time for the bedding!” he shouts, his voice met with a chorus of drunken laughter and cheers. The call is picked up by others, nobles and knights alike, their voices chanting in unison.

“To the bedding! To the bedding!”

You glance at Daemon, unsure of what to expect. He turns to you, his gaze steady and unyielding. Slowly, he reaches for your hand, his touch firm and warm. His thumb brushes lightly against your knuckles, a silent reassurance.

“They will not touch you,” he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear. His eyes, sharp as dragonfire, meet yours with unwavering certainty. “Not if I am standing here.”

Your breath catches in your chest, surprise flickering in your eyes. It is a small promise, but it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders.

The chants continue, louder now, as the guests begin to rise from their seats, some already moving toward you. Daemon stands first, his presence commanding enough to make even the most brazen of lords hesitate. He extends a hand toward you, his expression one of quiet defiance.

“Shall we, wife?” he asks, his lips curving into a sly, knowing smile.

You take his hand, your heart still racing, but the panic that once clawed at you has dulled. You rise with him, head held high, and the crowd erupts into a sea of laughter, cheers, and jeering calls. Lords and ladies step forward, but before any of them can reach you, Daemon’s gaze turns to them — hard as dragonstone, sharp as steel.

“Touch her,” Daemon says coldly, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “And I’ll take your hand as payment.”

The hall stills. The drunken grins falter, the more sensible lords stepping back as if scalded. The boldest of them mutter curses under their breath but make no further move.

“That’s what I thought,” Daemon mutters, his grin returning, sharp and predatory. With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you toward the doors leading to your chambers. The crowd follows, but from a distance now, the earlier fervor tempered by Daemon’s words.

Your steps are slow but steady, each one more certain than the last. You are not alone. Your hand is held firmly in Daemon’s grasp, his presence at your side a shield stronger than any wall.

When you finally reach the heavy wooden doors of your chamber, the crowd begins to cheer again, but none dare approach. Daemon opens the door himself, holding it for you like a king for his queen.

“Inside, Princess,” he says, his voice softer now, meant only for you.

You step in, glancing over your shoulder at the crowd one last time. Their eyes are filled with expectation, mischief, and far too much wine. But none of them matter now. The door closes behind you with a resounding thud, silencing the world beyond.

The chamber is warm, lit by the soft glow of the hearth. The distant sounds of revelry echo faintly through the stone walls, but here, it is quiet. Your heart is still racing, but it is not from fear.

Daemon turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His smirk is gone, replaced by something far more honest. He steps toward you slowly, his movements deliberate, giving you time to step back if you choose. But you don’t.

“You handled that well,” he says, his gaze flickering with approval. “They expected you to shrink. But you didn’t.”

“Should I have?” you ask, your voice quiet but steady.

Daemon tilts his head, his eyes filled with something akin to admiration. “Never.”

Silence hangs between you, but it is not uncomfortable. Slowly, he reaches for you, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch is careful, deliberate — nothing like the wild prince the songs describe.

“If you wish to rest,” he says quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, “then rest. I’ll stay if you want me to, or I’ll leave if you don’t.”

For a moment, you are stunned. All the stories, all the rumors of Daemon Targaryen — bold, brash, uncontrollable — and here he is, offering you control in a world that rarely grants it.

“What do you want, Daemon?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He smiles at that, a slow, wolfish grin. “I want what’s already mine,” he says, his eyes dark but steady. “But I am not so foolish as to take it by force. A king can command fear, but only a fool ignores respect.”

His words linger in the air, carrying more weight than any vow spoken at the sept. You search his face, looking for deception, but all you find is truth — a truth that you had not expected.

“You think me wise enough to be respected, then?” you ask, one brow raised.

“I think you’re wise enough to be feared,” he replies, stepping closer until there is only a breath between you. His eyes lower to your lips, but he doesn’t move, letting you decide. “And that, wife, is far more dangerous.”

The choice is yours now. In a world where choice is often stolen, he offers it freely. No songs will be sung of this moment. No maester will write it down. But this moment is yours.

The warmth of the firelight flickers softly against the stone walls of your chamber, casting long, shifting shadows. The air is thick with unspoken tension—not the kind born of fear, but of expectation. The weight of tradition presses down on you like an invisible cloak, suffocating in its silence.

Daemon stands before you, his violet eyes sharp but calm, as if this moment is nothing more than another game he’s mastered. His fingers reach for the intricate braids woven into your hair, undoing them with slow, deliberate care. He works in silence, never rushing, never fumbling. His fingertips brush against your scalp, and the warmth of his touch is startling in its tenderness.

You feel the weight of your hair slowly falling free, the braids unraveling strand by strand, until your hair spills over your shoulders like a golden cascade. Daemon steps back for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. There is no mockery in his gaze. No jest or smirk. Only focus.

“Still with me, Princess?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, your throat too dry to answer aloud. His lips twitch into the faintest smile before he steps closer once more. His fingers move to the clasps at your shoulders, the ones holding the delicate fabric of your wedding gown in place. For a moment, he hesitates, his fingers brushing against the embroidered flowers that line the edge of the fabric.

“You are beautiful,” he says suddenly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. There is something raw in his voice — not a compliment to charm you, but a statement of fact.

“Flattery, husband?” you reply softly, your eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

He chuckles under his breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “No, just truth. I may lie to kings and councils, but not to you.”

His hands resume their task, and slowly, he unclasps the gown, letting it loosen around your shoulders. The fabric slips, slow as silk, pooling at your feet in a sea of red and white. You stand before him, vulnerable but unafraid.

But then — a sound.

A rustle. A shift of fabric behind the heavy curtain at the far end of the room. You freeze, your eyes darting toward it. The faintest outline of movement is visible through the dim light. Your heart tightens in your chest, heat rising to your face.

“They’re watching, aren’t they?” you murmur, your voice laced with unease.

Daemon doesn’t even glance at the curtain. His gaze remains fixed on you. “Yes,” he replies bluntly, his tone neither ashamed nor apologetic. “The king. The council. They’ll want to see it done properly.” His eyes flicker with a glint of something darker. “Fools with nothing better to do than spy on a husband and wife.”

You clench your jaw, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “It’s humiliating,” you mutter, your eyes narrowing at the veil of fabric separating you from them.

“It is tradition,” he replies, his tone sharp but not unkind. He steps closer, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. His voice softens, the fire in him dimming to embers. “But they are only men, little flower. Let them watch.” He tilts your chin up with a single finger, his gaze hard but reassuring. “Let them see that you belong to no one but me.”

His words linger in the air like a spark set to kindling. The fire of it spreads, steady and slow, filling the hollow space that doubt had left behind. Daemon is not afraid. He stands as if he is untouchable, unbothered by their eyes, and for a moment, you think perhaps you can do the same.

“Do they always watch like this?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but steadier.

“Not always,” he replies with a small grin. “But sometimes. They call it ‘assurance of consummation.’ As if it matters to the realm what happens between husband and wife.” He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “If it bothers you, I can send them away.”

You glance at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of deceit. But he looks at you like you are his equal, his partner in all things. Not a pawn to be used. Not a flower to be plucked.

“You would?” you ask, testing him.

He nods slowly. “One word from you, and they’ll leave. I promise you that.” His hand rests lightly on your waist, his touch grounding you, steady as stone. “But if you wish to see this through, I will make it quick.”

The choice is yours. His words echo in your mind, and you think of all the choices you’ve never been allowed to make before this. But this one is yours.

You take a slow, steady breath, glancing at the curtain once more. You see them there, shadows behind fabric. Fools. Spies. Men who think they have power. But none of them are in this room with you. None of them are Daemon.

You turn back to him, lifting your chin. “Let them watch,” you say, your voice sharp as a blade. Your heart still races, but there is a new resolve in it now. “If they want proof, they’ll have it.”

Daemon’s eyes widen just slightly, his grin returning in full force. He laughs softly, the sound like the low rumble of thunder. “That’s my wife,” he says, his voice filled with pride and something far more dangerous — affection.

“Then let’s give them something to remember.”

He reaches for the laces of his tunic, pulling them loose with practiced ease. His eyes remain on yours the entire time, a silent promise in his gaze. No mockery. No cruelty. Only certainty.

The fabric of his tunic falls away, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, littered with faint scars like constellations across his skin. His silver hair gleams faintly in the firelight, a halo of shadow and flame.

You take a step forward, your breath steady now. The weight of their eyes no longer feels so heavy. Let them watch, you think. Let them see that you are not afraid.

Daemon sees it too. He sees the shift in you. A dragon recognizing another dragon. His grin fades into something more solemn, more reverent. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek.

“You are more than they deserve to see,” he says quietly, his voice so soft that it feels like a secret. His eyes lower to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “But let them see you anyway.”

And so you do.

The air grows warmer as the fire crackles behind you. Daemon moves with purpose, each gesture slow but sure, as if you are something sacred. There is no rush, no frenzy. Only patience. Only reverence.

The sounds of the council behind the curtain fade from your mind. You barely hear them anymore. It is only you and him now.

Daemon’s hands move over you, each touch as careful as a man handling dragon eggs. The weight of tradition still hangs in the air, but it no longer feels suffocating. You have claimed it. Turned it into something of your own making.

Daemon led you towards the bed and laid you down there, you stared at his face as he started to climb on top of you. "Are you ready little flower?" you just nodded and that's when he started kissing you, his kiss was very gentle and also demanding.

Your hands moved to his neck, you played with his long hair and heard him moan softly in between your kisses. he then started kissing your neck. You heard the voice behind the curtain again, "don't mind them, just focus on me" the daemon whispered in your neck, you moan softly as a result.

Daemon's hands didn't stay still, he traced the curves of your body which made you close your eyes. when his fingers touched your core which was starting to get wet you moaned. He started by inserting one finger and looking at you, your body started to heat up. he then added another finger and his rhythm became faster, you moaned because of his treatment. "i have to prepare you first little flower"

After Daemon felt enough, Daemon started to take off his pants. He looked back at you and kissed your forehead, "This might hurt."

You looked at his face and smiled, "i'll hold it in" he smiled and started kissing you. you felt his cock start to enter your core slowly. You squeezed his hair as you felt him start to enter and fill you, you both moaned and after that daemon slammed his cock hard which made you scream in pain in the kiss.

You could feel your blood rushing out, he growled softly as he felt you squeeze him tightly. He wiped away the tears that were in the corner of your eyes, he didn't move yet to make sure you were enjoying and accepting his size.

"Are you comfortable?" he whispered and stroked your cheek gently, you nodded and that's when he started to move his hips slowly. The pain you felt begore slowly turned into a pleasure you had never felt before.

"like that, oh god. you're so tight" he growled and started to speed up the rhythm of his hips. you could only moan under him,

He doesn’t hold back, his hand found yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours. Something hot and heavy settles on the pit of your guts then rises from every thrust of Daemon’ hips, a spark flowing down from the top of your head to toes. Back arches up when the head of his member prods against your sensitive spot.

“You take me so well, sweetling.” You let go of his grip and pulled his face to kiss him again, your legs automatically wrapped around his waist making him go deeper inside you.

Daemons can go crazy because the way your walls are clenching tightly around his length. He then splays his palm on one of your boobs and squeezes the flesh there, keenly studying as the skin turns pink. he broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, your breaths mingled and he continued to growl.

"Daemon please g-go faster, please.." you mumbled. He smirked, before going fast and hard. You gasped at the sudden change of pace, holding down at the bed to get some sort of grounding. You threw your head back as he kept on pounding into her.

You shut your eyes as the knot inside your stomach grew tighter, signaling that you was about to come. he chuckled. "Is my little flower about to come?" He teased. you nodded. "P-please let me come..." you rasped. He groaned, he was near his orgasm too. "Shit love, I'm close too.." He said. He thrusted a few more times before finally coming inside you, filling you with his seed, he growled softly before kissing you and lying down next to you.

And when it is done — when the silence behind the curtain is replaced by the rustle of cloaks and the soft, satisfied murmurs of councilmen walking away — you do not feel shame. You do not feel small.

Daemon lies beside you, his eyes on the ceiling for a moment, his breathing steady. Then he turns his head to look at you, his silver hair tangled, his expression calm but sharp with awareness.

“You did well,” he says softly, his eyes watching you with quiet pride. “They’ll remember this night, but not for the reason they think.”

You glance at him, raising a brow. “And what reason will they remember it for?”

Daemon’s eyes narrow slightly, a glint of mischief in them as he tilts his head to look at you fully. “Because they’ll realize they made the mistake of thinking you could be broken.”

His words hit you harder than any vow spoken before the sept. You breathe in deeply, letting them settle in your chest like a flame that will never burn out.

“Let them remember,” you say, your voice stronger than it has ever been. “Let them remember I am not so easily broken.”

Daemon’s grin widens, his eyes glowing like embers in the dark. “No, you are not.”

The warmth of the fire has dimmed to a soft glow, shadows dancing gently across the chamber walls. The weight of exhaustion presses down on you, your limbs heavy and your breathing slow. Without thinking, you turn toward Daemon, seeking the warmth of another presence.

You rest your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around him. His skin is warm, the slow rise and fall of his breath lulling you into calm. For a moment, everything feels still. The noise of the world outside — the lords, the council, the weight of duty — fades into the background.

Daemon doesn’t move at first, his body tense like he isn’t used to this kind of closeness. But then, slowly, you feel his arms come around you, his hands settling on your back. One hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair.

His chin rests lightly atop your head, and you hear him sigh — a long, quiet breath as if releasing something he’d been holding for too long. His lips press softly against your forehead, warm and deliberate. No words are spoken, but the meaning is clear. You feel it in the tenderness of his touch, the weight of his hand holding you steady.

Your eyes grow heavier with each heartbeat, the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear a rhythm you cannot resist. Your breathing evens out, matching his, and before long, sleep pulls you under. Your last thought is that, for the first time in a long while, you feel safe.

Daemon tilts his head slightly, gazing down at you. His sharp eyes, so often filled with mischief or calculation, have softened into something quieter, something unguarded. He watches you in silence, as if memorizing every line of your face. His thumb traces a small circle against your back, a motion so subtle it might as well be instinct.

He watches you for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly as if puzzled by the depth of his own thoughts. Then, with a quiet huff of breath — not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh — he rests his head back on the pillow. His eyes remain on you until, slowly, his lashes lower, and sleep takes him too.

In the quiet of the chamber, there is no crown, no council, no eyes watching. Only two people, entwined in warmth and stillness, finding peace in the comfort of each other.

tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years ago

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Tag list: @sh-tposter2021 @casmosmoon @hoesindifferentshows @daffodildelight @stuckinaoaktree @this-is-music @good-so @farleyis @starksdaughter20

Part 1

It has been a couple of days since your confession and Hobie was conflicted on whether he should rip the preverbal bandaid off and tell you of his secret identity, and possibly putting you at risk for potentially dangerous circumstances in the future, or keep you in the dark for a little while longer until he felt brave enough with himself and his situation to come forward; After all personal relationships -whether platonic or romantic- and Spider-Man never went well together. It was a sacrifice placed upon the shoulders of all variations who were chosen to dawn the mask of Spider-Man.

For if the legacy of being Spider-Man was a death sentence to those who are close, Hobie doesn’t want you death to be treated as his ‘canon event’ or whatever hand fisted bullshit excuse Miguel was trying to ram down everyone’s throats in order to justify in allowing a loved one of theirs to die. Hobie refuses that being the case and due to his righteous mistrust of Miguel, he kept your name out of his mouth unless it was within the presence of the few he could trust; Miles, Pavitr and Gwen.

‘So they have a crush on you.’ Pavitr began.

‘Yeah.’

‘And you have a crush on them.’ Miles jumped in.

‘Ain’t no point in hiding it.’ Hobie cooly replied because why should he bother hiding the obvious.

‘So…what’re you going to do about it?’ Gwen finishes and Hobie only shrugs in response, ‘dunno.’

Pavitr made an face of exaggerated shock and looks over at Miles and Gwen, who were already expecting this reaction from him as they exchanged looks with him, before looking back at Hobie. ‘Dunno, the person you like has expressed that they like you too-‘ ‘-it wasn’t me they were talking to Pav, it was Spider-Man, clear difference. No need to rom-com it.’ Pavitr waved his comment away and continues on his tangent, ‘they like you, you like them and your response to all that is; Dunno?!’ Hobie -again- shrugs. He really didn’t know what to do, yes the feelings between you two were mutual but that didn’t mean he was going to risk your safety over them; no matter how deeply he feels them to the point where the mere idea of you being put at risk because of him acting out of his selfishness in having you, made him physically hurt.

Hobie would rather enact upon his selfishness in a way that meant letting you go and moving on to someone who wasn’t going to be putting your life in constant danger, whilst also getting to shamelessly cling onto some part of you in the process; even if that meant just being your friend, even though he already knew that wasn’t what you wanted. ‘What do you want me to do Pavitr?’ Hobie began, ‘Go up to them and be like ‘remember the talk you had with Spider-Man up on the roof? Yeah that was me and no I’m not having a laugh because I like you too.’ He made a face at this, ‘nah I’d rather them call me a nonce for the rest of my life, well that is if they still want me in their life afterwards for lying to them this entire time.’ He murmurs the last part to himself mostly and it was silent for a while as he, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles sat on what has been said.

The later three shared a look between them as Hobie looked at a picture of the two of you that he kept within the pockets of his vest, smiling softly to himself as the echos of your laughter ran in his head like a melody he could set his soul adrift to on his most sleepless of nights. It was obvious to Gwen, Pavitr and Miles that Hobie held you close to his chest, right where his heart is; Gwen in particular was aware of how much of an impact you had on Hobie from the times she spent at his place and it was obvious as to where it was that you touched as Hobie made it apparent to keep it that way. You’ve made a home for yourself within Hobie’s heart and she knew that he’d fight to keep you in his life.

‘Hobie,’ he lifted his eyes to meet theirs, ‘would you rather be afraid to tell them who you are for the rest of your life, or tell them while you still have the chance because from what you’ve already told us about y/n, they wouldn’t hate you or call you a nonce, whatever that is.’ Miles mumbled under his breath as Hobie raised his brows, ‘has it crossed your mind at all that you might just overthinking all this? Not to say the fear ain’t real, what I’m trying to get at is this; you should pursue what makes you happiest, regardless of the fears you may have because in the end isn’t it better to have love and lost then to have never have loved at all?’

Hobie mulled on Miles’ advice once he got back to his reality before finding himself standing on that very same rooftop where his conflict began, looking down as he clutched his mask between both hands in contempt, so much so that he didn’t even hear your voice call out to him until you were right next to him. ‘Hobie? Everything alright?’ He had told you prior to meet up on the rooftop of some abandoned apartment complex that you were more then camisole with at this point, but the way he said it made you feel as though there was something eating away at your best friend and you weren’t about to let him go through anything alone without you.

Upon realising how close you were to him, Hobie was slick enough to hide his mask behind his back when he addressed you, stuffing it into his back pocket so that you wouldn’t get overly curious as to his hand placement but then again you were always as observant as him when he noticed the way your eyes lingered, like you already knew what this was about; to which Hobie wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for it would make this situation a lot easier for you to process what you already knew. ‘Yeah, everything’s cool, why is it that you think somethings up?’ The raise of your brows only told Hobie that you weren’t buying it, ‘oh I think there is but it looks to me that you need a little prompting.’ and without missing a beat your hand was halfway to reaching for his back pocket when he caught your wrist, holding it there as he looked at you incredulously. ‘The hell was that for knobhead.’

You shrugged, ‘like I said, you needed prompting otherwise you wouldn’t be defending whatever’s in your back pocket so adamantly as you are now.’ You were smart, Hobie had to give you that as he lets go of your wrist and decides to quit the unnecessary prolonging and pulled out the mask from his back pocket, chucking it into your awaiting hands as he then sat himself near to the edge with his back facing you so he couldn’t see the look upon your face when you say, ‘so this is what you were hiding from me…I knew Spider-Man felt too familiar and now I know why.’ He heard your footsteps get closer before stopping all together as you sat yourself next to him.

You were both silent but it was a silence loud enough to dampen out anything else in that moment and Hobie didn’t know where this silence would lead to, and neither did you as you were now realising that you had confessed your feelings to your best friend without knowing it; which was already enough to take in but for that friend to also be spider-man was a whole other thing to unpack. Where you mad that he didn’t tell you? No, not even in the slightest but you were more worried then you could ever be mad, after all you just found out your crush and best friend was spider-man for fuck sakes so of course you’d be more worried for his well being. ‘Here,’ you tell him, holding out his mask for him to take, ‘you can have it back.’ Hobie did as you asked and took his mask back, but before it was fully in his grasp you yanked it away from his reach, causing him to look at you.

‘Give it.’ He tells you straightforwardly but you stood your ground as you pressed a finger to your cheek, ‘not until you tell me something first; did you know I had a crush on you prior.’ Hobie shrugs. ‘No, honestly it wasn’t until but you admitted that you liked me that somethings started to make sense.’ You hummed, content with his answer but you weren’t through quite yet. ‘Do you…feel the same.’ You once again asked but this time your voice wasn’t as steady and strong, it was fearful and hesitant; something Hobie never wants you to be when near him.

‘Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious when I personally dealt with those who chatted shit about you behind you back, I thought it was obvious that when I let you into my heart, that there would be no way that I was letting you go but with this,’ he gestured to the mask in your outstretched hand, ‘made it all the more harder for me to do that without putting you in danger; I was hiding this other life from you to protect you but you were always too observant for your own good but it’s one of the many things I love about you.’ Hobie admits, happy he finally got it off of his chest. After hearing all that, you gave him back his mask and rested your head against his shoulder, murmuring, ‘your such a hassle.’

Hobie smiled for what felt like the first time in a long while throughout this whole situation and slugged his arm over your shoulder before resting his head on top of yours, ‘yeah but I’m your hassle.’ He says before pressing a kiss to your head, feeling you as you snuggle into his side, smiling to yourself, ‘how unfortunate.’ You say half heartedly as Hobie joins in, ‘yeah, poor you.’

#spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv fic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown imagines #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown fluff #spiderpunk x reader

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hedwig221b · 3 months ago

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Do you by chance have BAMF Stiles recs? I'm reading your stories and all you rec so thank you for being awesome!!

Thank you so much! One wouldn't know by looking at my fics, but I absolutely adore BAMF!Stiles lol. He's a delight!

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek.

Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

A Tangled Refuge by wanderingeyre

The Hale House has been rebuilt for the past five years and for all five of those years, it’s been a sanctuary for supernaturals that needed a place to stay, a halfway point, a place to recuperate, or a place to be safe from whatever was on their tail. Word traveled quickly in the small world of the supernatural and now they rarely had to seek out people who needed help. Most came to them.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.

When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.

Dangerous by jjmash

There are a lot of things that the pack doesn’t know about Stiles.

Some of it is little things he simply has no reason to mention, like how he almost failed organic chemistry his first semester at Stanford. Some of it is bigger stuff that he just can’t bring himself to think about, like the nightmares that still plague most of his nights and trap him inside his own mind in increasingly horrific ways.

But most importantly, the pack doesn’t know all the ways in which Stiles has transformed during his time away from them. He doesn’t need fangs and claws to be dangerous.

The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.

Something More Than Human by gatergirl79

Stiles Stilinski has a secret, a huge secret. A secret that will change the way everyone sees him. No, he hasn't been bitten by a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski is the product of a government experiment to create the perfect soldier, a human weapon. As a second generation transgenic, Stiles has been living a normal life with his dad in Beacon Hills, playing the role of klutzy sidekick to his werewolf best friend. All that changes however when Derek saves his life, Stiles finds himself slowly embracing who he really is. - But at what cost?

Red Witch by rootbeer

The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning.

Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.

Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter

A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #sterek fanfic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #derek x stiles #sterek fanfiction #sterek fic rec #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic rec #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf sterek #hedwig221b replies #anon asks

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kookiewithluv · 3 months ago

Text

MASTERLIST

• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE

• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader

• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, werewolf au, Royal au

• RATING: 18+

• WORD COUNT: Ongoing

• TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains explicit and graphic sexual content, with themes of intense physical desire, possessive (dom-sub) dynamics, and primal, instinct-driven encounters. It also explores deep emotional conflict, grief, loss, and difficult decisions surrounding love and sacrifice. This story includes mature content not suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

• SUMMARY: You were a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a mate who would love you as fiercely as you loved him. But when you finally meet your mate, you discover he’s no ordinary wolf — he’s the Lycan king, the alpha of all alphas. Worse, he neither wants you nor is willing to reject you, leaving you trapped in a loveless bond in his kingdom. As queen to a king who resents you, the mate bond grows stronger, making you more vulnerable with each passing day. Now, you must break through the walls around his heart and make him love you, because staying in this bond without love is unbearable, yet leaving isn’t an option he’ll allow.

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv . The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

✿ PROLOGUE: bound by fate forsaken by love

Your alpha is pushing you to accept his mating proposal and drags you to the royal gathering hosted by the Lycan king. But once you’re there, you discover that the Lycan king is actually your true mate.

✿ CHAPTER 1: the mate's lament

Even though the Lycan king, Jungkook, saved you from your alpha, he made it clear he didn’t want you around. Still, you had to stick close to him and follow all the rules he was throwing at you.

✿ CHAPTER 2: bitter bonds

You’re already struggling with Jungkook not wanting you as his mate, and now Elizabeth shows up, all claiming she’s loved him forever and trying to win him over. Do you fight for him or walk away from something that might never happen?

✿ CHAPTER 3: (COMING SOON)

OTHERS

moodboard

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just send me an ask also character asks and drabble requests are open, so hit me up with your wildest ideas.

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loveshotzz · 10 months ago

Text

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

��Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!”

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.

“Does she know that?”

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!”

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

🌻 chapter two

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n

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yandere-sins · 3 months ago

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Monstober - Day 5: Naga/Lamia [Elemental Sacrifices Part 1/4]

I am fashionably late and since this story was supposed to come out on my birthday I switched the prompts since we all know Nagas are my roman empire, hehe >:3

Also this is part 1 of 4 of a little mini-series happening in this Monstober Challenge, and I will lovingly call it the Elemental Sacrifices. I know we already had a sacrifice before, but what if—hear me out—we have 4 more? Yes, I thought that was a good idea too, glad we agree :D

(They are not much related aside from the concept, but they are in the same universe, so maybe there's some potential for future ideas! :D)

Prompt: Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous Warnings: Yandere, AFAB!Reader, Sexual Actions (Dub-Con, Use of Aphrodisiac, Drinking said Aphrodisiac and getting it stabbed into your arm, Deep Kissing, Accidentally cutting your own tongue, Fingering), Violence (Biting with fangs, Description of (meager) fighting, Cutting the enemy, Blood mention), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Light self-degradation, Long Post

The tradition had always existed.

From the moment you were born, you were told about the sacrifices made to the four gods, which took place twice a century. The four tribes would unite in peace and unity for this month of reverence, choosing their sacrifices carefully and laying down their weapons to organize and strategize the ceremonies so that no god would feel aggrieved. It was a wonder that people that worshipped different things, lived by different means, and usually clashed like hot and cold, light and shadow, could work together meaningfully to pay their respects, assure that everyone would continue to be in the favor of the different gods that roamed the lands you lived on.

And yet, somehow, it had always worked out.

"There, almost done," your mother mumbled, curling your still-damp hair around her finger so it would frame your face. You clenched your fists in your lap as you sat in front of the mirror, unable to even look at yourself without retching. 20 years ago, when you were told the stories for the first time, no one had assumed you'd be the one to be sacrificed in the next ceremony. No one informed you that your days were numbered, your purpose to be nothing but monster fodder.

Because that's what they were, monsters, nothing more, nothing less.

A two-headed snake, an ancient tree, a tentacled beast, and a fire-spewing reptile with wings—those were the four monsters you and the other tribes worshipped with offerings and sacrifices. All your life, you practiced the mindful handling of the teachings, learning how to hunt, fight, and serve your god. But even so, just because you were born the child of the leader, you were going to be discarded by your own people, and your hatred was as fiery as the vulcanos that surrounded your homeland.

"I heard the water tribe sends their most wonderful singer this year, too."

It was a frail attempt at small talk, and you couldn't care less about how pleased your mother sounded as she told you about the other sacrifices. The other poor souls that probably wanted nothing more than to run away about now. You had hidden your tears very well with your head hung low, but you couldn't imagine the other sacrifices felt any less miserable as you did.

You had plans for the future, plans that involved leading this tribe and creating a family sometime. Maybe participate in a war with the other tribes and show off the prowess of the fire tribe leader's oldest child. It was in the nature of your people to be strong and powerful, as was the exceptional artistry of the water people.

"And the earthclan sends another one of their scholars. I don't understand why they think the nature gods would like all these people hiding with their noses in their books, but I'm sure they have their reason for choosing them. Oh, but the wind people are also sending their ruler's child, just like you!"

A tone of pride swung in her voice as she continued arranging vividly red flowers like a crown in your head, pulling at strands of your hair to wrap them into the stems so they'd hold. "And yet, you'll make the prettiest sacrifice of them all. You'll make us all so proud!"

Inside of you, a war broke loose. A war you knew you couldn't win as you knelt on the floor of your childhood home, the place you always thought safest in all of the lands, yet it was no longer the place you'd return to after this expedition. All your good deeds and all your achievements were for naught because when the announcement was sent out that the sacrifice was going to be held that year, it ended your life instantly.

A part of you knew it could happen. Although you never wished this fate on anyone, you had always hoped for a sibling, born or adopted into your family, that could take this responsibility from you ever since you learned of it. Other tribes voted. They chose by luck or by skill at the time of sacrifice. But not yours. Yours had traditions, which meant the leader's strongest family member would go to the gods and ask for their blessings. Get eaten in exchange for a promise of safety and prosperity that the monsters could easily break on a whim. Returning would mean the blessing failed, so that wasn't an option. If you couldn't appease them alive, you would do it with your death. The ultimate sacrifice.

"Now, you're perfect. Look at you, my pretty child."

Pushing her fingertips into the underside of your jaw, your mother forced you to look up into the mirrors. Tears tumbled from your eyes as your head snapped upwards to avoid the discomfort of her nagging touch, and you watched her expression fall in her reflection. Not from sorrow, mind you, but anger.

"This is your duty," she reminded you. "Now that you have grown up and proved your worth, you should feel honored to be chosen."

You bit your tongue, swallowing the disrespect you wanted to voice. You couldn't care less about the sacrifice, about gaining the ire of some monster that some old people had decided to worship. About your mother's opinion or that of anyone else!

Deep inside you, you were afraid. Fear, first and foremost, had always been your teacher. It showed you the boundaries of your abilities and pushed you to perform deeds beyond your capabilities in times of need. It wasn't something to be ashamed of or scolded for; it was natural and normal.

But right behind it was anger. Anger at this tradition, anger at your family, and anger at the monsters for demanding lives in exchange for peace. Gods they called themselves, but there was nothing godly about how they conducted their demands. They were cowards with a taste for human blood, and instead of fighting and being slain by those humans, they demanded sacrifices to satisfy their hunger.

And there was nothing you could do to save yourself.

If you rebelled, you'd be dragged out by your limbs and hair, even if that destroyed the work they put into prettying you up. Who needed to be pretty when they'd be eaten alive? Still, as a warrior at heart, you couldn't imagine a greater shame than to force your friends to bring you to that dreadful sacrificial space, even if they might think it was for the greater good. If you had to go out, you wanted to do so with your head held high, no matter how foolish that pride of yours was. It was better than to put your unfair death entirely into the hands of others.

If you were going to be a martyr, then you'd at least die fighting until your last breath.

---

"That's far enough," you announced, coming to a halt at the edge of the lush green forest you used to hunt in. Before you, vulcanic stone spread in dark hues as far as you could see. Ash filled the air, mixed with the taste of metal and fire. Nothing grew on the stone ground, it was as welcoming as a death threat. Veins of red broke through the stone, leading to pools of lava that was cooking beneath the stone surface, the air simmering from the heat that immediately greeted you, coating your skin in a sheen of sweat. Once you had found the duality of this place beautiful. Now you dreaded it, hands curled into fists as you took slow, steady breaths to calm yourself.

"I wish to face the gods myself."

"Go forth then. Make us proud," your father expressed, resting his hand on your shoulder. A simple squeeze was all you got, and much like your mother who hugged you before your departure, their gestures were too brief to be any comfort. You wondered how they could have possibly come to terms so quickly with losing their own child when you, the one to be sacrificed, were struggling with your fear and pride.

Every step on the hot floor was like a stab of a knife in your back. The hunting party that had accompanied you watched as you continued your journey towards the sacrificial space the ancestors had created, their gazes like whips that spurred you on. But they didn't linger. Since they didn't have to tie you down on the altar, they had no reason to watch the gruesome death of their own kind, knowing that either way, you weren't going to return. You knew the way back to your village like the inside of your pocket, years of roaming the jungles teaching you how to go home. But they'd kill you before you cursed the village with your failure to be sacrificed. Merciless, cold. You were no longer a part of them. You were a meager part of the tradition now.

However, the way to the altar was actually more of a challenge than going home. You had only been there once as a child, laying flowers down for your uncle, who had been the last sacrifice years before your birth. Your father may have called him your uncle, but it turned out he was an adopted orphan who ended up paying for his dedication to your family much later. Your father seemed unsympathetic towards him, but it dawned on you that he must have never been close to this brother of his, probably knowing the fate that awaited him.

You never knew your uncle, but back then, you had been proud of him, too.

That day was also the first time your father explained the traditions and the importance of keeping them up. How much honor it brought to your family and how many lives it saved to lose one person. You wondered why, after he taught you so many skills, worked so hard to make you a respected member of your tribe, and loved you like a father would, he could so easily send you to your death. But it slowly dawned on you what kind of person your father was. One that didn't truly cared for his "family", only for his own pride and gains. And you had been so easily fooled as to believe him all this time.

It took you much longer than you remembered, but eventually, you reached the grounds your ancestors had created for this spectacle. It was close to the foot of the volcano, an altar erected from the stone sprouting from the ground with nothing else present in this wasteland. The heat had increased substantially over time, every breath burning in your lungs, your eyes dry, and your feet chafed from walking over the smoldering stone for so long. Dread was no longer a constant companion as acceptance slowly crept into your mind. You had seen the bones of many humans on the way to this place. Apparently, not everyone had been so lucky to have made it this far, either the environment or the monster killing them before they reached the altar. Or maybe themselves, now that you thought about it.

The sight of the raised altar forced a shuddering breath out of your lungs, the stinging sensation barely enough to distract you from the blaring truth. You were going to die. One way or another, you would. Touching the side of your leg, you felt the leather holster beneath your dress. The dagger you sneaked would probably not be enough to kill the monster, if there ever was one. Still, if you could inflict some damage to it, perhaps your tribe would one day snap out of the trance that it was this immortal threat that your ancestors appeased by offering their own children to it. Maybe they'd see the wounds and realize they didn't have to cower in fear of it, and thus, maybe your sacrifice would not be in vain.

Brushing your hand over the warm stone, you felt an untypical cold shudder run down your spine, knowing it was meant to be your deathbed. You wondered how many before you had laid here, waiting for the monster to come. How many had prayed, hoped, and begged to be saved, and how many had fought and struggled like you were going to. Following in their footsteps now, you knew they did what they thought was their best. That was the greatest honor you could bestow on them.

You hoisted yourself up, struggling to climb on top of the massive stone slab, before you sat close to the edge and stretched out your legs, feeling the burned and chafed soles of your feet crack as they finally got some rest. Hissing, you were confronted with the pain, yet you only sighed, swiping your hands over your face to free you of the sweat that was desperately trying to cool you down. Even if you were used to the warmer temperature of your home, it was nothing against the volcanic heat, and you almost admired it for burning for so long, never bothered by anyone. The air was as heavy as your soul felt, trapped in your body and scared to the heavens.

Imagining the snake did very little to soothe your mind, but you still tried to prepare for the shock its sight undoubtedly would be. You imagined a snake as tall as a building, with two heads splitting apart at one end. Heads with sharp fangs and venom dripping out of their mouths, eyes that ate you up before their maw even got close to you. It would slither over the ground, nimble, avoiding the lava pools, but too large to hide behind the wasteland it reigned over. Bloodlust urging it on as it smelled the sweet fragrance of the flowers on your head, which were delighted to bloom in the warm temperatures. A green tail? Brown? Perhaps a little of both? Maybe its scales were dark red like all the blood it drank from the sacrifices.

"Look at that, they do sacrifice their own kind."

Deep in thought, the heat probably having gone to your head, you hadn't noticed the chafing sound that slithered closer from behind. Only when someone suddenly spoke did your mind alert you of the danger, and you jumped down from the altar, swiftly spinning around and bracing yourself. One hand hovered over your dagger beneath your dress, and the other arm stayed defensively in front of you. With the distance you managed to jump and the massive altar separating you from the monster, you were at a surprising advantage, and it felt good to have the upper hand.

Your eyes widened at the sight of two men standing behind the altar, one of them leaning down on the stone surface right next to where you had sat. In contrast, the other stood straight with his arms behind his back, but both watched you with burning intensity. Immediately, you noticed their similar appearances, the light grey hair falling from their heads, bound by braids, and still with countless strands falling over their exposed chests. Their eyes were like marbles, reflecting the different colors of the area in them, elongated pupils slightly vibrating as they fixated over and over on you. But what really put you off was their size. Their legs must have been easily as tall as the altar, and that was no size a normal human should have had.

"Mother never told us sacrifices were this cute."

The man leaning on the table rolled over on his side, his hair splaying all over the altar in waves. And yet, even while moving, his gaze never trailed off—but yours did. You let out a horrified gasp as the scaled tail of a snake buckled and arched to accommodate the man's movements, and with a surprised jolt, he reared upwards, exposing even more of the tail that started at his hips.

A moment of silence washed over you three, and you felt incredibly exposed and stared down by two pairs of eyes as if they were pinning you into place. Willing you to not move a muscle, to be eaten without putting up a fight. No one said anything before the startled man laughed out loudly, shaking his head and holding his belly before slapping his free hand attention-seekingly against his companion's arm.

"That scared me," he chuckled. "I've never heard that kind of sound before."

The other man let out a hum of agreement, nodding his head before looking back at you. You were at a clear disadvantage, unsure where to look first and who to focus on, as you were outnumbered by the two. The one that kept talking was smaller than the other, although this could have been the heat playing tricks on you. Both were muscular, but he was less refined than his almost-twin. You wagered you could take him on if there wasn't a scaley tail winding from his hips. That would be additional weight you couldn't topple, no matter how much you playfighted the other hunters and warriors of your tribe, which sometimes outdid you in terms of weight and size.

The quieter one, on the other hand, had the typical looks of a working man in the village: big arms coming from a strong back and toned muscles that the woman would drool over, while the other seemed fit and nimble. But your eyes unwillingly focused on the tail as the two scaled the altar, moving forward oddly in sync until it became clear why.

Their two strands of tails flowed together between them into one massive one.

It was mesmerizing, you had to admit, the scales an iridescent white. But whenever the tail moved, it took on the hues of the land, grey and red, only to return to their original color as it wound itself. You were awestruck and panicked at the same time, as the tail seemed to be neverending, wrapping around the altar, finding hold on the stony ground that even your feet struggled with. Fear filled you as you watched their slithering movements, the mistake in your thinking now glaringly clear: The monster existed, and it had come for you.

"Y-You're the monster!" you screamed, and the smaller one of the two scrunched up his nose, taking offense. The white scales swept over the altar, landing in the space between you and the stone with a heavy thud. His body was barely shaken by the impact, so perfectly in balance with itself despite their unnatural split into two different entities, and the seriousness of the situation rained down on you like their sharp gazes as you realized there would be no chance of you overpowering either of them.

Even with their connection, they spread out too far to reach both simultaneously. They could still move independently, even if their range was limited to what their body could give. But even without them rearing up on the tail, they were almost two heads taller than you were. They knew their body better than anyone, and you didn't doubt they had some tricks up their non-existing sleeves to best you.

Biting your lip, you finally slipped your hand beneath your dress, never letting the monster—monsters—out of your sight. To your surprise, you watched their gazes slip to where you raised the fabric, observing you with curious intention, their split tongues slipping out from their lips, tasting the air as they ogled at your exposed thigh.

Your hand curled around the grip of your dagger, and the moment you pulled it from its holster, the snakes lept forward. There was no time to be proud of yourself, but your reaction was immaculate. You jumped back just in time to avert the nimble one's grabby hands, even drawing blood as your blade slit open the skin between his thumb and pointer finger.

However, as fast as you dealt with one of the snakes, you couldn't recover quickly enough to avoid the second pair of hands. Much like you anticipated, their range was too extensive to fight both of them at once, and although you ducked beneath one hand of the stronger monster, his second hand latched on, right in your hair. You watched as the red petals of the flower crown loosened and swayed in the air like a sad veil of defeat.

Your head was yanked back, and you acted quickly, directing the knife towards the unprotected free shoulder, somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would leave a visible scar and show everyone that these monsters could be injured. But a bloody grip around your wrist prevented you from pushing the dagger into the creature's partially scaled bodies, your hopes crumbling into ash.

"You good?" the more muscular man asked, and the other clicked his tongue in annoyance while you flailed and struggled in their grip. Your free hand was useless as you couldn't even reach forward enough, and so were your legs as you stood on your tiptoes while they yanked you around.

The latter lifted the hand that was holding your wrist to his mouth, licking up the blood that spilled from the cut on his as he maintained eye contact. You bared your teeth in both pain and defiance, not showing any of the miserable fear and panic you felt inside. You didn't manage to do what you came here for, and you felt the power surging through their bodies just from their hands on you. The failure gnawed at your determination, the fight as good as lost.

"We're not monsters," he hissed, glowering at you, although it looked more like a pout. "But you sure are quick on your feet."

Their comments should not have caused your heart to swell with pride, but hearing it from the monster you swore to hurt in exchange for your life did feel good.

"Surely you wish you'd have gotten an easier meal, monster! But I won't go down until I have shown everyone that you can be wounded and defeated! That you will bleed if the people unite! There will be no more sacrifices once they've seen what I did to you!"

"We're not monsters!" they repeated in unison before exchanging a brief glance with each other.

"Well, I won't call you god and beg for your mercy!" you spat, and the lips of the snake with your hand in his grip curled into a grin.

"Are you sure about that?"

With his blood coating your hand, he raised it way over your head, causing you to gasp as your whole body strained to accommodate the movement. His hand slipped upwards, a few fingers holding you in place, while some snaked between your palm and the knife in your grasp, prying your hold from it inch by inch. You let out a soft whine as the leather grip was torn from you and watched the metal clatter to the ground.

But you didn't have the time to mourn the loss of your only weapon, not when your arm was bent backward. Immediately, your free hand shot up, trying to dig your nails into the fingers wrapped around your wrist still.

That was your greatest mistake. With his free hand, the quiet monster immediately reached for both of yours, wrapping them in his palm as quickly as their tail could around your body.

You were kept on your tiptoes as you felt the scales of said tail slither over your skin. Creeping beneath your soles and running up your ankles, squeezing the flesh of your shins firmly together before wrapping around each thigh individually. You kicked and squirmed, but their tail was almost as unrelenting as their hands, and you involuntarily winced as your wrists were squeezed together as if tied by a rope.

"It's true we are not the monster you're trying to defeat," the leaner one claimed again, licking his wound like an injured animal.

"That's our mother," his brother explained curtly, and your head whirled around to him, the questions etched into your face.

"Look at us; we're only half the snake she is."

With an exasperated huff, you looked back and forth between the two, reeling at the revelation. "That's not possible! You... you are a snake with two heads. It's exactly as it's told in our stories!"

"They're not wrong..."

"I mean, she is a literal snake with two heads. And she's gigantic. You should be glad she didn't find you first, or you'd be even less than a small snack for her."

"And our dad is human. Like you."

You must have looked rightfully befuddled as the two went back and forth on their explanation, but once they were done, you could only gulp, unsure what to make of the situation. "So... you're not the monster that demands sacrifices?"

"No."

"Not really."

"Then..." It was hard to form the words that zapped through your mind, your mouth suddenly feeling dry again as the adrenaline sifted from your blood flow. Nothing could rationalize this situation, and you were still strung up by their hands and tail. This almost felt too good to be true, so you had to take your chance as long as you could. "You'll let me go?"

A moment of silence hung over all three of your heads before the brothers slowly ripped their gazes off you to exchange sly smirks. You wobbled as their body—and by extension, yours—set into motion, slithering back to the altar until you were sat down, your back forced to rest on the stone like a lamb to slaughter, hands hanging over the edge above your head and legs still wrapped by their tail.

"Oh, you can't just leave," the lean one purred, coming up from below you and planting his clawed hands firmly on either side of your arms. "The nights get so cold, and the days are so lonely with our mom busy occupying our dad. She never lets us play with him or come back to our home. Won't you keep us company for a while longer? I'm sure you can teach us some things, and we can teach you."

The other settled on the opposite side, still holding your hands in place as he grunted in agreement. You felt the bile rise in your throat as one touch slipped below your line of sight, claw-like nails raking up your thigh and moving beneath your dress. Their intentions got more apparent as the fabric was gripped from above, too, slowly, sensually raising over your skin until the hip strap of your underwear was revealed.

In a last-ditch effort, you tried to struggle once more, legs tugging upwards and kicking at the ever-winding tail while your hands twisted in their hold, causing it to crush down onto your bones even more. That wasn't how you wanted to go down; it wasn't the fight to death you thought you'd have!

"End me, then. Get it over with," you yelled out, laying your head to the side and closing your eyes, the reality too hard to face. Sooner or later, you'd die anyway, and if this were the things you'd have to endure, you'd rather be dead. It wasn't the kind of sacrifice you wanted to be, one defiled and molested before you'd be killed, so you'd rather be dead than witness it.

"Hush now," someone murmured, and you felt a hand sweep underneath your chin, turning your head forward again before tugging it up and over the altar's edge. Your eyes snapped open as your instincts kicked in, but as you opened your mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by another.

A tongue slipped between your opened lips before you could close them, slashing around inside harshly and clogging your throat. There was too much to take, and you gulped down the wetness it brought, sloshing it everywhere to the point it dripped from your lips, running down your face that immediately heated up beneath the fluid. It tasted sweet and even when you wanted to stop, you couldn't, gulping down all that was given to you.

Your body began to relax while you felt a hand drive down the front of your torso, brushing an entire palm over your breast and getting stuck on your nipple. You jolted, a pang of electricity flying to your head and down your spine, your back arching as you couldn't understand what was going on anymore. You had never felt this sensitive before, and as the hand continued to roam from one side to the other, finding the budding nip beneath your dress and twisting it, you let out an unholy moan into the mouth of the monster, your own tongue lashing upwards until it got caught on a sharp fang. Despite not feeling it, you were pretty sure your tongue was ripped open, but even more of the sweet-tasting, addictive stuff dripped from the fang, gushing into your mouth. You gobbled it up, considering you had nothing to drink throughout your journey, and your mind was not getting enough of the taste.

"Considering how quickly you got hooked on our mating fluids, I'd not be surprised if you do end up calling us gods when we're done with you."

You barely heard the voice of the curious onlooker beyond your line of sight, your mind wholly crazed by the liquid that coated all of your mouth and senses. It took almost more work to extract the monster's tongue from your throat than it had putting it inside. Your head followed it upwards, unwilling to part while the drool kept dripping down onto your face.

As you were freed of the kiss, a shameful, miserable sigh of disappointment escaped you, and you barely regained the ability to reply, "Never," in response to what the snake had said. That caused both of them to chuckle, and the sound sent a core-clenching, spine-tingling warmth throughout your body. Your lips quivering as your mind begged for more of that deep rumble cursing through their bodies.

"We'll see about that," the monster from below mumbled as he raked his claws over your thigh. Immediately, you were jolting upwards in their hold, caught between pain and pleasure as he lightly scabbed your skin. It was a small revenge for his own wound, and the scratches burned deliciously as they welcomed the hot air all around you two. "You're already so wet for us."

"It's called sweat," you mewled defiantly, the sound of your voice not befitting your sarcasm. You clenched your legs together, but it was a vain effort with the tail still stuck above your knees, easily prying them open by driving upwards. The scales rubbing over your skin didn't help your misery at all, and you wanted to throw your head against a solid wall with how dizzy and needy you felt. It wasn't you on that altar, but a very distorted version of you, one that wanted to be fucked silly even though what you really wanted was a good fight.

The two laughed at your comment, and you moaned in annoyance at the electricity that sapped through you at the sound of their voices. Your head fell back over the edge, and you came face to face with the more muscular one of the brothers as he lowered himself to your eye level. His eyes raked over your face, then up to your exposed neck just waiting to be bit.

"You're so cute," he mumbled, split tongue darting out again, tasting the air. Your pussy clenched as you wished for that tongue back in your throat or, even better, caressing your quivering folds below that were begging for something to fill their loneliness. The experience was new to you, as you had never wanted intimacy like this with anyone before. You had been so focused on your goals and diligently upholding your parents' rules and traditions that you never craved anyone, but especially not these two beasts.

"I'm not cute," you mewled, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you felt the sharp claws hover above your abdomen, gently stroking the skin below your navel from side to side, your core clenching even harder with pure, undiluted desire. But when the fingers slipped beneath the rim of your underwear, you moaned as you expected them to dip into the wet mess that lay just beneath, the expectation almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Oh, yeah?" the snake-man grinned, and you felt one finger press into your slit, your folds welcoming it warmly and with a shudder going through your body. You quaked in pleasure, eyes blown wide open, and the two fangs of the monster were all more prevalent as his lips split into a toothy smile. "So cute," he doubled down, pulling your arms taut until your body stretched to the last of its capabilities.

With his lips gently brushing against your forearm, you were wholly unprepared for the sharp pain as he dug his fangs deep into your skin. But the shriek quickly turned into a moan, your hips grinding against the finger probing at your entrance as more of the aphrodisiac went straight into your bloodstream. You watched the dark fluid drip off your arm, causing even more heat to spread where it flowed, and you were mercilessly whining as you couldn't move your hips nearly enough to satisfy your needs.

"Please," you snapped upwards, staring at the creature settled on top of the altar next to you, leisurely rubbing his hand along your pussy.

"There goes the begging," he reminded you, and you bit your lip to the point of hurting yourself.

Fuck, that wasn't what you wanted to say. It wasn't how you wanted to die, you never intended to let it get this far. Pathetic, pathetic, absolutely pathetic. You were a fucking warrior, you fought threats and hunted prey, you were not going to surrender to them—

"Fuck!" you gasped out loud this time as one digit slipped inside you. You felt it hook inside your pussy, slowly dragging out despite being clung to firmly by your insides. All the faster did he push it inside again, every joint that buried inside you made you arch your back and rejoice. You nearly avoided being scratched open inside, purely by how slick your pussy and his hand were by now, more fluids gushing out as he pulled his finger from you again and again.

Simultaneously, another digit curled down, fondling the heated folds until it pressed down on your clit, forcing a mewl from you. Fangs tore out of your skin, but you barely noticed as the two fingers united, taking up more space inside of you and scissoring your walls apart until you felt your pussy gaping and drooling obscenely.

"I'll not... submit," you stammered between bated breaths. "I'll not... be your plaything."

"And we wouldn't want it any other way," they chimed in unison, exchanging a satisfied glance before grinning.

"Mom always said to look out for the feisty ones."

"We just didn't think you'd come to meet us so soon."

"Or that you'd be this fun to play with."

Your whole body shuddered as both fingers were pulled out of your terribly needy hole. Your breath was almost non-existent, the lack of air only stimulating you more as you heard the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy letting go of the monster's fingers. A hand slipped beneath your head, helping you to hold it up as you watched the leaner brother lifting his pointer and middle finger to his face, split tongue lapping out to taste your slick pulling strings in the gaps while maintaining eye contact with you all throughout it.

"They're perfect," he purred as he looked up, stretching his arm towards his brother, who leaned forward to have his taste of you from his brother's fingers.

"Damn, that's sweet," he commented too on your fluids, licking them from his lips as he looked down at you in a mix of surprise and awe.

"And so pretty, too."

You felt their eyes in the same way their claws had raked over your body. Hungrily, with the intention to harm you. And yet, your hole kept gaping, needing more stimulation, wanting more. You were the pitiful prey you kept denying you were, but it seemed that in their eyes, you were so much more than that.

"Our little fighter," the one at your side murmured, stretching upwards to hover beside your face.

"Are you not even finishing what you started?" you spit, your venom not nearly as effective when your voice sounded as if you were drugged and disgruntled.

"Oh, I will, little fighter. We're going to make sure you can take us before spreading you on our cocks and make you cry out in pleasure until you call us "god". But before that, you have to be good and let us take you to our nest. Bonding will take so much time, and you are much too vulnerable out here."

"Fuck you," you grunted, trying to elbow him, but your arm barely moved.

"Keep it up," he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to give up too easily. Breaking you in is part of the fun."

"You're a fucking monster after all."

The snakes hummed thoughtfully as you were finally pulled off the table. Instead of being dragged by your arms or wrapped in their tail, however, you were slung over the bigger brother's shoulder, feeling his hand immediately settle beneath your asscheek, not so subtly poking at your pussy with his claw.

"Let me go!" you demanded weakly, your sore hands pounding pitifully into his shoulder.

"And miss out on all this fun? I don't think so," the leaner brother answered.

"Mother told us you can't go back anyway," the one carrying you added, throwing salt into the wound. They were right, but that didn't mean you'd go down so easily, even if your legs were still quivering and your head throbbing with need. "They'll kill you on sight, won't they? And then they'll return you to the altar so we can eat you."

A hand clasped around your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks as your head was lifted to face the leaner brother. "You know we prefer a different taste," he grinned, and you felt your anger rise again together with the shame of his implication. Collecting your saliva and some of the residues of the aphrodisiac, you spit them into his face, not caring whatsoever what that meant for you.

The snake-man scrunched up his face, quickly wiping it away. "Save your drool," he snarled, and you grinned victoriously despite the clasp he held your face in.

But as if on cue, a large palm flattened against your ass, and you jolted forward on the shoulder, eyes blown wide open as you gasped. You couldn't believe it as the wave of pleasure finally crashed into your rockfest resolution, your toes curling upwards and your eyes rolled back, your orgasm hitting you harder than even the slap had.

"Oh, god," you whispered breathlessly while riding the high of pleasure and shame as you felt your juices leaking even through your panties, dripping and running down the body of the other stronger brother.

"Seems like you finally get it, sacrifice," the guy in front of you noted, brushing his thumb over your lips, which opened automatically to his beckoning.

"Let's go, brother," he urged. "Seems our little fighter needs just a bit more convincing as to why they'll love being ours. I can't wait to make their belly swell with our clutch, just like Mother has always told us."

"We're lucky we found a mate so quickly," the other agreed, and you let out a defeated huff, no more words to counter them with coming to your dazed thoughts.

Their tail set into motion, scales slithering over stone, while your mind drifted off, the aphrodisiac having too much of a hold on your conscience for you to be rid of it quickly. You were going to be taken by the monsters, and if you thought you were helpless before, your body now barely felt like it belonged to you. It was as if you weren't its master anymore, but that drug and those snakes were. You could only shiver, even though the air was getting hotter the closer you three got to the volcano, wondering if you at least fulfilled your duty as a sacrifice.

And when that duty would finally end.

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