#the electric soft parade

[musicmags]

[nathancable]

Fuck.

This was NOT a particularly successful song, but there's an ear-worm in my head every couple of years and I have to TRY remember the lyrics to search it and place the song.

It's 21 fucking years old.

Fuck.

[electricsoftparade]

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[hollyoongs]

⤷ MY BABY LIKE TO STRING ME US ON!

시놉시스┆ 𝙟ake𝗵͢oon, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +9.9k ꒰ ⌗ smut with plot ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

─────⠀cursing, kissing, protected sex, oral (male and female), choking, use of lube (lots of it), fingering (anal and vaginal), double penetration, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, doll, etc), dirty talk (brief), daddy kink, praise kink, spanking (one time, if I remember correctly), squirting and let me know if I missed anything.

You looked at your watch; you could feel the excitement going through your veins as the time went by. After months of saving every penny you could get from your part-time job, you could finally afford tickets to a rock concert of your favorite band, Crimson Eclipse.

The concert had been on your mind for months ever since you saw the post of their official account; your brain was filled with fantasies of screaming along to their songs and losing yourself in the sea of fans, recording every now and then as you could feel your throat hurt from all the singing. And here you were, front row, right in the center. The venue was packed already; people were simply taking selfies, preparing the handmade banners they held, or running to the bathroom, the muffled sound of soundchecks echoing faintly through the heavy doors that made the place more pumped up. You adjusted your outfit—a mini black dress with an oversized leather jacket. It was not the best outfit for a concert, knowing that you would be jumping, and the boots with heels you were wearing also didn’t help at all, but that actually didn’t matter. It was your favorite band’s concert, and you were going to go all out.

You shook your head to erase any negative thoughts and took a picture of the spot you were in, the screen focusing on the stage, and you smiled, already knowing how worth it it was to pay for the first-row ticket. You’ve been a fan of them ever since you saw that recommended video of them at the ripe age of fourteen doing a cover of “Welcome to the Black Parade,” and you were still here, eight, almost nine, years later. It made you proud how far they have gone, winning awards and gaining a lot of recognition and fame, but you saw how they didn’t lose themselves or start disliking what they do, music.

The lights went out, surprising everyone who thought there had been a technical failure, but soon that was cleared by the sound of an electric guitar that alerted you, followed by excited screams that made everyone look around to find the source of the sound. This was the first (and hopefully, last) time the first row was conspiring on your contrary; at least, you could get a view thanks to the heels.

Two guys appeared, and you could help but scream at the very familiar shadow of the dynamic duo, Jay and Sunghoon. The two of them were rocking a new look, black hair, standing back-to-back under a soft spotlight that made them stand out. Both of them moved in different directions, Jay—sporting his signature eyebrow piercing—heading toward the first rows, all this while playing without missing a beat, drawing cheers from the audience. Soon after that small intro, the lights on them vanished, and so did they.

A new spotlight illuminated another person, this time, Heeseung, on the stage. He also had a new hairstyle, silver hair to be exact, with his guitar slung across him. He played with the microphone in his hand, his tongue tracing his lips, a small habit he had whenever he was about to sing that you found endearing the majority of the time. Key word, majority of the time.

"Put your loving hand out, baby…" he sang, all the spotlights coming on to point at the performers.

You glanced at the stage, Jake’s shirtless body welcoming everyone as he was playing with drumsticks, the flirty smirk popping out immediately at the cheer while Jay stood on top of the speakers.

Your loose hair was brushed aside delicately, the touch of unfamiliar lips on your shoulder trailing lower beneath my jaw, making you turn, ready to yell at whoever it was to not let you peacefully check on them, but the words froze in your throat when you realized it was Sunghoon. His lips moved closer to your ear as the cameras of several cellphones were pointed at you, recording the fan service you were receiving.

"I’m beggin’……"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was the only word running through your mind as you watched the guy walk away from your side and head to the stage with a smirk on his face, most likely pleased by your reaction.

“Fuck, you’re so lucky!” A girl next to you screamed, but you didn’t pay any attention to the glow of her phone recording your dumbfounded expression, too busy processing what just happened. Sunghoon was now standing behind the microphone, his fingers skillfully moving across the bass strings, still wearing that superior smirk that was quickly erased to focus on playing the right chords. Your gaze shifted behind him, and you were hit with a wave of surprise—and an even stronger wave of heat on your cheeks.

Jake was looking at everyone there, soon laying his eyes on you, his exposed tattoos making you trace them with your eyes; sometimes you couldn’t even see them properly because of either one, his flexed arms were moving rhythmically and passionately as he was playing the instrument, or two, that made you lose yourself in the song. His tongue peeked out slightly as he winked at someone in the crowd—or one of the members, occasionally. The piercing in the middle of his lips caught the light, a new piercing.

Yeah, they were going to be your reason to not be alive.

You could physically feel every note they played vibrate through your body—it was the reason why your body matched the energy the band radiated through jumping and singing every lyric. You had only heard the songs through your headphones at a very concerning volume, and even then, their songs caught and captivated you that another band has never done before. But now, performing right in front of you, completely live and giving their all to every song of the setlist, was like entering a whole new world.

The songs were hypnotizing, and they were unstoppable.

You couldn’t define a word to describe Heeseung, but one close to your way of thinking was striking. His black-polished nails contrasting against the silver rings on his fingers and his red microphone in his hands. The butterfly tattoo he recently got on his neck drew the eye, and his gaze never left the crowd, ensuring no one felt left out. You truly can wrap your head around the fact of someone having such charisma; it could be the fact that he was made for the stage, to project everything he had on his mind and connect with people with an ease that seemed almost otherworldly.

Jay, who was dressed in leather and chains with his dark hair falling into his eyes, was the one who brought fire to every performance. Matter of fact, everybody did, but he has this power that pulls the crowd with a single word; his guitar solos could make any room fall silent in awe due to his confidence because, to the fans, every single note he played was a piece of his past, present, and future woven into the strings of his guitar, making even the loudest venues feel intimate, letting them know that it wasn’t only technique but emotion and honesty.

Sunghoon can’t be left out, his hair slicked back, and his ripped jeans left little to the imagination, especially paired with his sleeveless shirt that showed off his defined muscles. He was a whole visual, but his passion for the music and how he can get things done was what made him him. He couldn’t simply exist in the background; he was intensity and precision incarnate, making his stage presence wasn’t about flash—it was about power. It didn’t matter if his fingers danced across the strings, if his voice was being for backup vocals or main; it was that fire in his eyes that was the proof that passion and love could be silent but deafening at the same time.

And Jake, funny enough, he was the heartbeat of the band, his hands always a blur as they commanded the drums with power and precision, channeling the rhythm that kept everything—and everyone—together. His perpetually messy blonde hair with his loose pants, low enough that they showed the ‘Calvin Klein’ elastic, and no shirt was a statement, as if he didn’t need to try hard to turn heads. He was dynamic, a force of nature on stage that was so effortless yet impactful that it made no doubt why he was one of the best artists, along with his brothers.

As you saw all of them three smiling and soaking in the moment, it popped to your mind that they were one of the few bands that weren’t just performing; they were living, breathing, and thriving under the stage lights, and their presence demanded attention, not because they forced it, but because it was impossible to look away. And you would make sure to give them all your attention with proud tears in your eyes.

You could feel your throat getting sore by the minute because of screaming along with the rest of the crowd; your feet were slightly hurting, though that was actually the least of your problems. About five—maybe eight—songs later, the band took a well-deserved break. Everyone started to take out their phones, including yourself, the moment you all saw Heeseung raising his hands to greet the crowd, flashing his perfect row of teeth that had more than a few people sighing in love.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming to our show tonight. Are you having a good time?” he asked. The crowd erupted with various affirmative responses, making the band smile. “That’s a relief to hear. If it’s your first time here, let me introduce ourselves. My name is Heeseung, and I’m the main vocalist and guitarist. To my left is our incredible bassist, Sunghoon; our star guitarist, Jay; and behind us, the best drummer I’ve ever met in my fucking life, Jake.” Each member greeted the crowd in their own way, gaining all the cheers from everyone in the venue.

You turned to see Jake leaning against a speaker with Sunghoon, both of them wiping their sweaty bodies with small towels. The Australian's eyes found yours again, his smirk widening as he caught you staring. He mouthed something—Well, hello there—before taking a swig from his water bottle, something that didn’t go unnoticed by a few fans there, and responding to him, tilting his head back in a way that made your knees weak. Sunghoon leaned in to say something to him, but Jake waved him off with a grin, his focus still locked on you.

“Before we get back to the set, this next song is really special to us; it’s really close to our hearts. Hope you all enjoy it.” Once again, the crowd cheered; now the light was slightly dimmed, leaving a soft blue glow to everyone, an unusual color to use since they only used red lights.

The moment the opening chords were heard, everyone realized it was a new song; you did a small zoom on your phone to only focus on the band, the crowd soon finding themselves swaying to the music, completely captivated by the unreleased song. In the middle of the song, Sunghoon had a bass solo where he got down to interact with the people, going from the back to the front, doing a few stops to interact with as many people as he could. By the time he approached the first row, he stopped in front of you.

Sunghoon knelt down right in front of you, the strap of his bass pressing against his chest as he played with ease, his fingers dancing over the strings and his gaze locking with yours. The corner of his lips quivered into a smirk when he saw the way your mouth hung slightly open, your awe written all over your face due to the talent he had. He leaned closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, not minding the people feeling his exposed arms or grabbing his chest, only you.

Your breath hitched as his smirk got a little wider. Before you could react, he straightened up, still playing, and gave you a wink before moving down the line to interact with other fans. The crowd around went wild, but your heart was pounding too loudly in your ears to care; you laughed in disbelief, forcing yourself back to enjoy the slow rock song. The song ended, and soon, the familiar opening riff of “Karma” blasted through the speakers.

You held your phone high, capturing snippets of the band. Jay took center stage, shredding his guitar like it was an extension of himself, his sharp features illuminated by the flashing lights. Sunghoon and Heeseung joined him at the front; Jake, meanwhile, was behind the drum kit, keeping the tempo tight.

Song after song, the setlist didn’t let anyone down. Fan favorites like “Blockbuster” and “The Walls” both had the entire venue screaming all the lyrics back at them. By the time the band announced their last song, the crowd was buzzing, their energy at its peak. In the middle of everything, you saw how Jay was now the one sitting behind the drums, and Jake picked up another guitar; the surprise on everyone was evident, but considering the fact that Jake was a guitarist who later fell in love with the drums, all of us knew he was not going to disappoint.

“We love you all,” Heeseung said into the microphone, his silver hair damp with sweat. “Thank you for making tonight unforgettable. This last one’s for you. Make some fucking noise!”

The band launched into their closing song, “Shout Out.” Jake and Sunghoon, back to back, played guitar in unison, and Heeseung jumped into the crowd; this was one of the many highlights of the concert. Confetti cannons exploding were the reason the crowd was being showered in glittering red and gold paper. The moment Heeseung went back to the stage, they did their final bows, some of them collecting presents they were being thrown at and others giving the towels they used to clean their sweat by some of the fan requests.

The house lights came on as the band exited the stage, and the crowd began to disperse. You were still on cloud nine when your phone vibrated in your pocket; you answered the call.

“Hey, Da Bi, what’s up?” you said, and you could sense from the other line that she was at a party.

“Y/N, did you forget that today is Sun Hee’s party at the Avalon Club, right?” You opened your eyes wide, already moving through the crowd to go. “Guys, she forgot! Pay me!”

“I’m so sorry; I’m already on my way; I think it’s near, right? I was at the concert.”

“Oh yeah, how was the concert?” You smiled wide at the mention of the concert that you were positive you won’t forget.

“It was incredible,” you said, your voice still hoarse from screaming along to the songs. “I can’t even explain it—everything was perfect. Sunghoon literally stopped right in front of me during his bass solo.”

Da Bi let out a dramatic gasp. “Shut up! Sunghoon? The bassist who looks like he walked straight out of a fantasy novel? You’re kidding!”

“I’m not,” you replied with a laugh. “I think I’m still in shock. And Jake kept looking at me too. I swear, I’m not imagining it.”

Da Bi’s voice rose in excitement. “Okay, now I really need all the details when you get here. You’d better hurry before we drink all the cocktails without you.”

“I’m on it,” you said, weaving your way through the dispersing crowd. “Save me something fruity, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you quickly pulled up directions to Avalon Club on your phone. It wasn’t too far—a ten-minute walk at most. You adjusted your bag, made sure your phone still had enough charge, and joined the stream of concertgoers heading toward the main exit.

The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside. The streets were alive with post-concert energy, people chatting excitedly about the show or taking pictures with their newly bought merch. You caught sight of a food truck nearby and briefly considered grabbing a snack but decided against it. Sun Hee’s party wasn’t something you could casually walk into late.

As you hurried down the sidewalk, your phone buzzed again. This time it was a message from Da Bi.

Da Bi: The DJ is killing it tonight. Don’t make me send Sun Hee to drag you here!

You laughed under your breath and picked up the pace. The distant thrum of bass from Avalon Club grew louder with each step, and because your tension was too high, you were ready to make your friend happy.

When you finally reached the club, you could see a line of people waiting to get in, the neon sign glowing bright against the night sky. You spotted Da Bi near the entrance, waving frantically when she saw you.

“You made it!” she said, pulling you into a quick hug. “Come on, let’s get inside before Sun Hee loses her mind.”

“Lead the way,” you said with a grin, already feeling the infectious energy of the music pulling you in. Since it was late, about to be eleven p.m., there were more people than usual.

Now that you really took a look at the place, it was packed; the music was pounding through your chest as you and Da Bi weaved through the throng of bodies on the dance floor, the diverse color lights pulsed to the beat, casting an almost hypnotic glow over the crowd. You could see how you two were spotted almost immediately from the VIP section by the birthday girl, waving wildly at the sight of you and your—hopefully—future girlfriend. She wore a sparkly silver dress that shimmered with the minimum movement she made, a drink in her hand and a contagious smile on her face.

“Finally!” Sun Hee exclaimed as you approached, pulling you into a hug. “You’re lucky we love you, or I would’ve sent someone to drag you here myself.”

“I’m sorry, but I have an amazing excuse. The concert was insane,” you replied, laughing as Da Bi pushed a fruity cocktail into your hand and, with his free one, grabbed Da Bi’s hand.

“Drink first, details later,” Da Bi declared, already swaying to the music.

You took a sip, the sweetness and tang refreshing after the rush to get here; you greeted Da Bi’s friends to not be disrespectful. The music shifted to a more upbeat track, and soon the three of you were lost in the rhythm, dancing without a care in the world. Sun Hee’s party was in full swing, complete with a table laden with drinks and snacks for the group.

There was a moment where Sun Hee was almost grinding between you and Da Bi, already drunk enough to even grab you from your neck. Some of the party invites were doing a circle around us, enjoying the show with their own partners or some random person they met at the club. You looked to your left, and you thought that the alcohol on your head was making you create scenarios in relation to what happened at the concert, but when you saw one of them raising his hand right in your direction, you knew you were not losing your mind.

At the corner of the VIP section, you saw Jake with a girl on his lap kissing his neck, his hooded eyes locked with your body and his hand waving at you. You returned the greeting and saw Sunghoon. He was seated beside Jake, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid swirling as he tilted it slightly. His sharp gaze was piercing, trailing over your form with intensity. The shadows that the club lights created accentuated his features—his jawline sharp enough to cut, his lips pressed into a faint smirk, only looking away to some fans that recognized them and wanted a sign.

Your eyes went back to Jake, and when he realized that, his smirk deepened as he leaned back further, the girl on his lap completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between you two. Looking around, you found Heeseung and Jay playing drinking games. He whispered something into Sunghoon's ear, making him giggle, and their eyes never left yours, as if daring you to keep looking.

“Holy shit,” Da Bi whispered, her eyes wide and noticing the guys you were looking at. “Are they…?”

“Yes,” you said, barely able to get the word out, mostly because you don’t want them to have the idea that you’re stalking them.

“Okay, now you’re just living in a fantasy,” Da Bi muttered, shaking her head in disbelief as her grip tightened around Sun Hee’s waist.

You turned back to her, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I swear, I didn’t plan this!”

“Well, if this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is,” Sun Hee said, nudging you, her tipsy self still finding the way to speak. “Now, are we going to give them a show or what? Kiss me since you didn’t bring a present."

You looked at Da Bi, and she nodded, giving you the green light to grab the back of Sun Hee’s neck and put your lips together; the euphoria of the moment even made Da Bi not have a care in the world and roam with her hands over the birthday girl's body while kissing her neck.

The crowd around you was eating it up, and you were almost positive that you didn’t have to glance over to know Jake and Sunghoon were still watching—if you act cocky, it is obvious.

Sun Hee broke the kiss with a mischievous laugh, her eyes gleaming as she turned to Da Bi, pulling her into the moment as well, kissing her with passion. The three of you danced together, hands roaming, bodies swaying in sync with the beat. When you finally dared to look back at the VIP section, Jake’s expression was unreadable, and so was Sunghoon's. The girl on his lap was trying to get Jake’s attention by showing more of her cleavage with her hands caressing his chest, but his focus was solely on you. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, ‘Keep going.’.

Sunghoon, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on his thigh while the other one played with the back of his neck. His eyes were sharp, following every move you made; he soon reached out to take another sip of his glass, his lips curling into a subtle smirk when your gaze locked with his.

Da Bi leaned close to your ear, her voice barely audible over the music. “Just in case! There are free rooms upstairs!”

You laugh, already knowing what your friend was trying to say. “You’re out of your mind.”

She grinned, nudging you playfully. “You’ve got their attention. Just in case you want to take them both.”

You rolled your eyes at Da Bi's cheeky comment, though your lips curved into a sly grin at the thought of it. "Both? That's ambitious, even for me."

"Oh, fuck off! Don't act like you don't want it. You're practically making them beg from up here." Sun Hee said, looking at you before giving a quick look to the club. "Look, the girl from Jake's lap set off! Go get them!"

"Sun Hee, they are celebrities, and they are already taking pictures of them! If they see me going with even one of them, it’s most likely that they will get my address in no time. Please forget it." You decided to give your attention to Sun Hee, who was dancing with her friends, and you joined in with the iconic Big Bang song ‘Fantastic Baby.’. From the corner of your eye, you saw how Da Bi disappeared.

You stopped dancing when you saw how drunk Sun Hee was and how she was tripping with nothing but her feet, taking her hand so she could sit down at your separate VIP section. Da Bi started looking for the two of you; you caught her attention by putting your hands up in a waving motion. She quickly came, and you decided to go to the bar, coming back soon after with a bottle of water for Sun Hee.

"Where did you go?" You screamed so she could hear you as you sat down beside Da Bi.

"I went to the person that plays with the lights; they will turn them off and play for like half an hour with the colored lights."

"Are you out of your mind?! Why did you do that?!" Da Bi rolled her eyes as her palm touched your exposed thigh; you could also see how the alcohol was getting to her as she did a small giggle and forgot what she was about to say.

"So you can get down with both of them; when was the last time you had really good sex?" Sun Hee entered the conversation. "And if I’m being honest… I want to fuck Da Bi." You opened your eyes but soon laughed about it.

"You two are insane." You laughed, and just like Da Bi said, the lights turned off to make an entrance to the colored lights, distracting people as more bottles came their way.

"Go grab those sticks and sign that NDA; make us proud!" Da Bi made you stand up and slapped your ass. You walked a few steps before looking back at them; they were already making out, so you had no other choice but to go.

You started to walk to the bar for a shot of vodka to make you even braver to do anything with them; the liquid burned, but at least it did the work to calm your nerves. You exhaled deeply; the calm came to you in contrast to the wild environment you were in. People were coming from left to right to the bar, and soon, a person sat on the free chair next to you.

"You look like you've got something on your mind." His voice was loud enough to make you listen. You knew that voice like the palm of your hand, of course you did. The nerves came back when you saw Jake, leaning casually against the bar and close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

You raised an eyebrow, swirling the vodka in your second glass before drinking it all, the feeling a little more tolerable than before. “It's not very often that a person of your favorite group looks at you too much and comes to talk to you. You know?"

"You grabbed my eyes at the concert. Did you enjoy the show, by the way?" The smoothness of Jake’s voice near your ear when he decided to move closer captivated you. It was not the first time you heard his voice, but having it near you was such a different thing. Because of the closure between the two of you, you could see how his shirt was open just enough to tease the edge of a tattoo on his collarbone, smirking at the memory of him being shirtless in the show.

“You guys were unforgettable. You sang my favorite songs.” Your comment made Jake chuckle, not in a funny manner, but in a proud one.

“Good. I’d hate to think all the effort went unnoticed.” You got brave enough to create a small distance between the two of you, if it was possible, noticing how his gaze dipped and looked at your lips, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks warm.

“Sorry about him; he likes to flirt a lot.” A loud voice appeared, and by the smile on Jake’s face, you could think it was Sunghoon, and sure it was, once your head turned around to the direction of the voice. Your eyes met, and Sunghoon gave a side smile, a very common gesture of his. “I’m Sunghoon.”

“I already know that, but it's really nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You grabbed his extended hand when you noticed it, his thumb caressing the top of it before letting it go. “I’m a fan since your MCR YouTube covers.”

Sunghoon’s smile now grew bigger, his characteristic shy smile with his fangs showing up and a genuine smile from Jake. “Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve heard that.”

“We’re lucky then; thank you for sticking around this long.” Jake said, and you grab another shot on your way, drinking it all at once and ordering some for Jake and Sunghoon. The moment they arrive, you point at them.

“Thank you for drinking these shots,” you teased, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. The bartender gave you six shots; the boys looked at each other before drinking three each of them. The DJ changed the music, people practically screaming when the speakers were blasting “Don’t Stop The Music” by Rihanna. You stood up and walked a few steps away before turning to them. “Wanna dance?”

“Who are you asking?” Sunghoon said, pointing at him and later, Jake.

“To both of you.” You tilted your head to look at them both, and Jake stood up from his chair. You went a little deeper into the crowd, and soon you felt a presence behind you. Jake gave you a smirk before grabbing your hips, and Sunghoon found his way in front of you, and your drunk self wrapped your arms behind his neck.

All the people were stuck together, and the sultry rhythm made you feel both of their bodies so close to you that you locked eyes with Sunghoon again, and just like Jake minutes before, his gaze went to your glossy lips and right back to your eyes.

“You don’t have to be shy,” you teased; your voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music.

One of his hands left your waist and directly moved your hair aside to speak directly through your ear. “I don’t think I am. We just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything.”

“You both don’t make me feel any of those things. You two make me feel good". You gave a small laugh after the double senses of your last sentence, gaining a small smile from him as he noticed your voice steady and sure despite the alcohol.

“We can make you feel good.” Sunghoon’s hand on your waist traced imaginary figures on your sides; your right hand travelled sensually from his shoulder to the back of his head, softly grabbing some of his hair, a dominant move from your part.

“You have permission to prove it,” the words left your mouth, and his hand threw your hair back completely before giving a small bite on your ear, making you shut your eyes as you sighed. He started to pamper kisses from the back of your ear to your neck, feeling how he suctioned softly a couple of times and gaining soft moans from you, throwing your head back and falling on Jake’s chest in the process when he found a specific spot on your neck.

Jake watched everything, and you could tell how he was enjoying it fully; he saw how you opened your eyes to connect with his eyes, and you grabbed his right hand to put it right on the front of your neck, feeling the coolness of his rings making a contrast with your warm skin.

“Kiss me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice when his lips crashed with yours, and it was everything you expected as the moment was turning more intimate—intense, dirty, and needy. His hand tightened slightly around your neck as the kiss deepened, slightly limiting the oxygen you were breathing while feeling the coolness of your middle lip piercing. Sunghoon didn’t stop either; his hands went slowly to your ass, squishing the flesh of it as he was watching, slowly losing all self-control. All three had lust in their eyes.

The moment Jake left your lips, he made your head turn to Sunghoon, your hand flying to the back of his head again as he kissed you. His kiss was more sensual, he was practically savoring the moment, but when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip in a way to seek permission, it became rougher losing it when he sucked your tongue, and action that you secretly loved, his lips catching the sinful moan you gave to him. Now, you could feel Jake’s plump lips attacking the other side of your neck, and you smiled in the middle of the kiss.

Sunghoon bit your bottom lip, sighing at your state, his left hand stopping on your face to caress your cheek, watching your swollen lips and cleaning some of the saliva from the corner of your lips; you quickly wrapped your lips around his thumb when he touched your bottom lip with a teasing smirk playing on your face. The sudden move made Sunghoon's brows raise, his lips curving into a cocky grin.

“You look like a dream.” Sunghoon said, and Jake hummed in response.

“I look even better naked.” You didn’t want to sound like a ‘pick me,’ but if there was a chance to actually have them both by the end of the night, you wouldn’t waste it.

“Sunghoon, go to the manager so he can rent the room above us.” Since Jake was the oldest, he nodded and went to find him, making his way quietly in the crowd so he couldn't be seen. You and Jake made your way to a nonvisible corner following Sunghoon with the same caution as his friend, who ended up talking to one person that you recognize as the manager.

The club was still dark, green lights flashing every now and then with the beat of electronic music. Jake leaned casually against the wall of the reached corner, diving back to your lips and kissing you slowly, not trying to rush things despite having your approval. His hand was going south, handfully grabbing your ass while yours went to his shirt, undoing one button.

“All done; we can go to the room.” Sunghoon’s voice interrupted the moment, all three going through the hidden stairs to the last room of the hallway between laughs and slight touches. With a key, Sunghoon opened the door, making you enter first, the both of them joining right after.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the low thrum of the club music faded into a distant hum. Your hands were instantly placed on each side of your jacket, removing it and tossing it to an individual couch in the room, not noticing that Sunghoon was also taking his leather jacket off his body to leave it on a table as well as his rings. Jake came closer to you, his hand reaching for yours to put your chests together.

“Are you sure about this?” You could tell he asked for both of them, but you had already planted the idea in your head.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Sunghoon approaches you after a few moments, his hands finding your waist as he draws you in for another kiss, hearing Jake scoffing at the action. You felt how his kiss was slow until it became rough like the one you had on the dance floor. Despite the heat that was radiating from both of you, his hands felt cold when they went to lower the back zipper of your dress, yours going immediately to his belt.

Jake’s presence loomed behind you, his hands brushing along your arms before resting on your hips. “Don’t get greedy, Hoon.” Jake’s breath was hot against your ear, and before going down your neck, you felt the cool air touch your back when Sunghoon successfully zipped down the dress and Jake let the fabric fall to the floor in a soft heap.

Sunghoon went directly to your back, separating Jake slightly, feeling how your bra got loose in a quick motion. You took the end of his white shirt, taking it off him with his help; meeting his unknown belly button piercing, a small gasp left your mouth. Usually, men will only have the traditional piercing, the two dots, but you will never imagine seeing a silver cross-shaped, dangling belly button piercing. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. When the fuck did he get that?

“Not what you expected?” You denied it, and your hands went to his small waist, fingers lingering on the pretty jewelry.

“But it suits you.” You smiled as you made a 180° turn to face the Aussie boy, clamming his lips in a kiss. His hands softly gripping your breasts and smiling in delight with how you made them know how good they were making you feel, just like they said. You could feel Sunghoon's hand playing with the strings of your thong, snapping the elastic to your skin, making you grow desperate due to his little game.

"Fuck, just take it off," the exasperation was very noticeable by the tone you used, the sound of how SUnghoon spanked your ass resonated in unison with your gasp.

"Easy, baby." Jake guided you to sit on his lap on the edge of the bed, his erection trying to get out of his pants, but you were getting distracted by how Sunghoon kneeled in front of you. "Let me take your shoes off."

He took your heel boots easily and put them away; his hands caressed your legs from your ankles to your thighs, his lips leaving kisses in the process. You threw your head back to Jake's shoulders the moment his veiny hands grabbed once again your tits, his index and thumb playing with your nipples. All the sensations you were experiencing were embarrassingly noticeable on your underwear, sticking into your cunt.

Sunghoon’s hands slid higher up your thighs, not being able to see the mischievous glint in his eyes due to Jake abusing every spot on your neck. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you shiver. Sunghoon’s fingers hooked into the sides of your thong, pulling it down slowly, his eyes never leaving your entrance. The fabric slid down your legs, and he tossed it aside, his hands returning to your thighs to spread them gently.

He trailed kisses higher and higher, causing small shivers through your entire body, a reason why Jake's hands moved down your waist to hold you steady the moment you squirmed at the sensation of Sunghoon's tongue against your core; moans falling from your mouth when his fingers went deep in you, stretching you out.

"You're so responsive," Jake said, his left arm hugging your body as the other hand went again to one of your nipples to pinch it, trembling at the combination. "You will hold your orgasm; can you do that for us?"

“Y-yes, I can, just… don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You could only nod since your voice caught in your throat as Sunghoon continued his work, alternating between slow, almost teasing strokes and firm fingering. "Sunghoon, let me."

You whined when Jake stood up and left you with your legs open; he lowered himself to the same level as your wet cunt and eagerly licked a long strip, collecting as much as he could of your arousal to make a stop on your clit. You laid down completely on the bed in a moaning mess, incoherent words coming from you that you couldn’t even understand when Sunghoon's tongue joined, fucking you as deep as he could. Both of your hands went to their heads to create a grip on their hairlocks; Jake hummed to your action, the vibration of it causing that familiar knot to almost snap.

“Please stop, please, please.” You were begging at this point; Sunghoon separated from you with his fingers inside you this time, curling them to touch that sweet spot that you sometimes couldn’t even reach yourself.

"You better give me a good reason," he said, nonstopping his movements and even making them faster. Your moans got higher as you tried to speak, looking for the perfect timing.

"I want to cum on your dicks." Your comment made both guys freeze for a moment, their eyes meeting over your trembling form. Jake let out a low chuckle, and his hand brushed your hair away from your face with his mouth and chin glistening from eating you out. “Please, daddies.”

You truly didn’t know what got into you; the word simply slipped out, tumbling from your lips before your brain could catch up. The room went silent, and a heavy tension hung in the air. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you froze, unsure whether to apologize or fake yourself passing out, but that last one would be too pathetic.

Jake’s hands guided you to sit down, and he walked straight to you. Your hair was formed into a messy ponytail by Jake. To make you look up, you gasped at the sweet feel of the slight pain that caused. “Be a good girl and help Daddy out, then.” Your hands travelled fast to his belt and boxers, hissing the moment he saw your doe eyes looking at his hooded ones with your hand wrapping his dick.

Sunghoon went to one of the drawers, and after some searching, he came to your spot and threw condoms and a half-empty lube.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jake." You hand-wrapped around his length, his head being thrown back when you put a certain amount of pressure. You looked back; Sunghoon was almost naked, his black boxers still on, not helping with hiding his erection. "Let me help you so you can join."

With your free hand, you grabbed the elastic and took them down with his help. Sunghoon's dick had slightly more girth than Jake's, but the same length. He stood up next to him, your free hand positioned on Sunghoon’s hip before you left a kitty lick on his tip, being rewarded by Sunghoon’s soft groan.

You started slow movements, your hands sliding up and down their lengths, enjoying the way their breaths hitched and their eyes showed you how much they liked it. Jake’s hips bucked slightly into your touch, making you lean forward to put your lips together around Jake’s tip, swirling your tongue and earning a sharp intake of breath. Sunghoon groaned softly, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” You heard Jake moan, so you went a little bit deeper, his hand not wasting time to put it behind your head, grabbing your hair in a messy ponytail to see how you fully took him. You took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat and making yourself gag around him, the vibrations causing his body to shake slightly and hold Sunghoon’s shoulder, who was also losing his mind. You were bobbing your head up and down, and the hand that was on Sunghoon’s length followed the slightly fast pace you were creating.

After a few more minutes of controlling his orgasm, you turned your attention to Sunghoon, taking him into your mouth as you continued to pump Jake. And just like Jake, his hand went directly to do the same messy ponytail.

“G-God, this feels… s-so good.” An idea popped out in your brain as you took him out of your mouth; hearing him whimpering was not something you expected, but it did make you even wetter for both of them. “P-Please, go deeper.”

You let him go out of your mouth as you spat on it for extra lubrication, “You mean like this?” You focused on breathing through your nose, relaxing your throat in the process as you took him deeper; Sunghoon’s hips bucked forward, hitting that little bell that actually made your eyes water.

“Fuck, y-yes, baby. Don’t stop, please.” Time passed, and you saw Sunghoon's polite facade turning off; the back of your head still got his hand behind it, with the difference that he was going deeply and roughly, trying to release himself. He was about to speak out when you once again took him out of your mouth but soon created a small choir of moans and groans when you made his and Jake’s dicks be placed right next to each other as you pathetically tried to suck on their tips, the corners of your mouths hurting.

You were going back and forth, hearing them praising you, only motivating you to suck them off even more; their moans grew louder, and that was your cue to stop. You looked up to meet their eyes. “Someone please sit on the bed.”

Sunghoon was faster as he sat on the bed, taking the condoms and lube to his side. You crawled right on top of him, his tip touching your wet entrance at the action. You initiated a kiss; he was tasting himself through that kiss, feeling that he liked it when his hand went to the back of your neck, tongues touching and creating even more wet sounds.

“Are you going to keep sucking me, baby?” Jake’s voice made its way into the room; you looked around and grabbed the lube in your hand. He was confused at first, but soon opened his eyes when he realized what you intended to do. “Holy fuck, you want to kill me.”

Jake gave a small peck on your lips before going behind you; his hands gripped your hips, making you position yourself on all fours; the coolness of the lube touched your anus. While Jake dedicated himself to spreading and combining the lube with your arousal, Sunghoon took your face to pamper kisses. This time, they were sweet enough to distract you, locking his eyes with yours.

"How can I make you relax better, princess?" you thought about it, smiling softly at him.

"How about a 69?" The moment his lips went to your cunt at first, you could tell how much of a munch guy he was, like it was a life-or-death mission to leave you empty. Sunghoon smiled, both of you getting comfortable at the position.

You got once again his pretty dick in front of you; the red color of the base was evident, the tip shining due to the precum that you wanted to lick. You felt his kisses once again in your inner thighs, his thick fingers pushing into the skin of your ass, spreading it apart for him and Jake.

"I'm going to finger you first. Can you relax for me, baby?" Jake's voice was deeper than before. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as Jake's voice resonated in your ears.

Sunghoon was utterly absorbed, his lips and tongue working on you like a starving man, his fingers gripping behind your thighs for a moment before going back to your ass, holding you steady as you took him in your mouth.

Jake’s fingers traced teasing circles, spreading the lube evenly while ensuring you adjusted to the sensation. You sat for a moment on Sunghoon's face, and Jake took that opportunity to lean in closer, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he murmured, "Let me know if it's too much, baby. We want you to be comfortable."

You went back to being on all fours, licking Sunghoon's tip again before going all in and sucking him off, his moans vibrating right on your cunt.

"I want you to breathe for me, baby." You did what he said, feeling his fingertip barely pressing against the tight ring of muscle, giving you time to adjust. "You're doing so well, such a good girl." His praise made you wetter, arousal that Sunghoon licked every time.

"F-fuck, princess. Please take me deeper." You heard Sunghoon's whiny voice, so pretty, and you took it as you could, gagging around him and gaining a small spank. "Shit, sorry."

"Please do it again, Hoon." You said it was embarrassing how much you liked it and how you didn’t even think of what you were about to say, like you did this whole night. Your mind was out of it in pleasure. His palm spanked the plush skin of your ass again, more arousal creating on your entrance.

Jake's hand tightened on your hips, his fingers moving in a slow but deep rhythm, coaxing your body to adjust to his touch. You moaned softly around Sunghoon's length, your focus split between Jake's patient teasing and Sunghoon's growing desperation.

Sunghoon let out a deep groan, his mouth taking deep breaths to rest for a moment. “You’re doing so well, princess. Look at you, so pretty with your mouth full of me.” His voice was strained, trembling with need as your tongue worked over him.

His words sent a shiver through you as Jake's fingers finally pushed deeper, carefully allowing you to adjust once again to the sensation. Your body tensed at first, but the combination of Sunghoon’s tongue on your clit and Jake’s soothing words eased you into the moment.

“Relax, baby,” Jake whispered, “You’re taking me so well. Just breathe.”

You moaned around Sunghoon, your body relaxing as you followed Jake’s guidance. Sunghoon’s hand tightened in your ass, his breaths coming faster as he tried to hold back. “F-fuck, Y/N, you’re going to make me lose it.”

Jake chuckled softly behind you, his tone filled with both amusement and desire. “Not yet, Hoon. Let’s make this last.”

Jake added a second finger, stretching you; his other hand trailed up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake and feeling how he pushed you down, making you gag around Sunghoon. Sunghoon’s hips bucked slightly against your lips, and you responded by hollowing your cheeks, taking him even deeper.

Jake's fingers began to thrust once he saw you moving your ass towards him, and Sunghoon went back to thrusting your entrance with his tongue. You had to stop sucking Sunghoon to let all the moans and gasps free.

"Fuck, d-daddies." You put your hands on Sunghoon's thighs for support, feeling your legs shaking. "You two are so good for me, shit!"

Jake's pace quickened to drive you to the edge, and Sunghoon was unwilling to let you catch your breath as he groaned against your core as his tongue thrust deeper, his lips teasing every sensitive spot.

“Look at you,” Jake murmured, his voice husky and low as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. “Such a needy little slut for us. Tell me how much you love it.”

“I—ah—I love it so much, Daddy.” You managed to gasp, your voice shaking with pleasure. “You’re both—fuck—so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled against you as he focused on pulling every last sound out of you. “You taste so good,” he said between licks, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t hold back. We want to hear from you, baby.”

Your body trembled, your knees threatening to give you out as the sensation was consuming you. Jake’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, while Sunghoon’s fingers pounded in and suctioned on your clit. You cried out, your head falling back as your pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into Sunghoon’s thighs as your legs quivered.

Jake’s fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Sunghoon stopped his movements, mesmerized by how your pussy was clenching around nothing, eager to have someone inside you. Sunghoon separated you from his body; to sit properly with his back touching the bed headboard, he reached for a condom, ripping the packaging off and sliding the condom through his dick, twitching due to the sensitivity.

You crawled to him, lips kissing as you tasted yourself; your hand reached to his throat and applied pressure on it, an action that made him groan. You separate from him as you look at him.

“You also like that, huh?” Your teasing came flat as his hand went to your throat while his free one went directly to your pussy; you jumped as he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Don’t test me.” He lost his grip and kissed you back, no stopping his movements. You got on your knees on top of him when he stopped; he aligned himself in your entrance, and you slowly got lower, not holding the loud moan at feeling of finally being filled. In the meantime, Jake also put on a condom and went behind you, aligning himself as he also went inside you slowly; both of your holes were filled, and it was like all three were touching heaven in every way.

A few moments later, it was you who started to move as you could before they started thrusting into you; by their gasp of air and incoherent words that would leave from their throats, it was clear that they were enjoying it as much as you were as they moved in perfect unison, somehow synchronizing with the rhythm of your trembling form.

You were so wet that it was easy for both of them to go faster than before, touching spots that you never thought you had, their trust growing more confident, each one coaxing gasps and cries from your lips that only encouraged them further.

“Look at me, pretty,” Sunghoon's voice entered your ears, your blurry vision focusing on him as much as you could; his mullet was messy, swollen lips from the kissing and biting his lower lip, and eyes hooded from all the ecstasy he was feeling, “A pretty doll losing her mind for our cocks, right?”

“Y-yes! You fuck me so good.” you said, motivating the two of them as they went even faster, if that could be possible. “Daddy! I’m going to cum.”

Your walls unconsciously clenched around Sunghoon the moment Jake went deeper, stimulating even more the coil that they were creating. Sunghoon was now the first to stop; it took you back a little, but even more how he turned you around. You were now facing Jake’s fucked-out expression; Jake shared almost the same expression as Sunghoon, with the difference of his glossy eyes, the pleasure even being too much for him.

You felt how Sunghoon’s dick made its way to your wet ring muscle, occupying Jake’s spot. Jake could see how your eyes rolled and your mouth opened to let out the prettiest whines and moans, his mind already making scenarios of that same expression as he entered inside you.

He pumped his painfully hard dick before pushing himself inside you with ease; the double penetration was fast from the beginning. Your hands were extended behind you for support, and Sunghoon’s hands held you steady as Jake’s fast movements created friction for all of them; the bed was moving because of the mingling with the symphony of breathless moans and whispered praises.

“I—I need to cum! Please, daddies, let me cum.” You started to beg, an action that made Jake smile with cockiness.

“Let go, baby. You deserve it.” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, one of his hands going directly to your clit. “Let me help you.”

His fingers moved as fast on your bundle of nerves, and the coil inside you unraveled, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your cries filled the room, your squirt making a mess in all of you three.

“Let’s leave her empty, Jake.” And they sure did that until the last drop of squirt left your body, both of them guiding you through the overwhelming sensation. Sunghoon followed soon after, his lips on your hips tightening as he reached his peak, a deep groan escaping his lips. Jake was the last to fall, his head resting on the curve that connected your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

You felt even more empty when they let go of you, their condoms full of their semen as they threw them in the trash after they did a knot in them. The three of you collapsed onto the bed in a tangled heap, the aftermath of what happened leaving you breathless and content. You passed your hands to your face, knowing that your mascara definitely was ruined and you looked a mess.

Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as Jake’s fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, basking in the after in the quiet room.

“This is probably the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” Jake said, making you and Sunghoon laugh.

“Glad I could make that happen,” you said, taking your hand to his cheek and leaving a small peck on his lips.

“And this is our first time having sex with a fan, or having a threesome in general.” Sunghoon’s comment shocked you, feeling a surge of pride due to his comment. You smiled shyly.

“I’m also glad to be your two firsts on that.”

Jake chuckled, pulling you closer into the warmth of his chest. “Well, you’ve definitely set the bar pretty damn high. I don’t think anyone could top this.”

Sunghoon smirked, propping himself up on one elbow as his fingers traced absentminded circles along your arm. “We should’ve done this sooner. But…” He hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance with Jake. “There’s one small thing we need to take care of.”

“Signing an NDA?” you said with a smile, resting importance on it. “I can give your manager my number so he can deliver the paper. Or do you do that online?”

Sunghoon laughed softly at your comment, shaking his head. “Not exactly the romantic pillow talk I had in mind, but yeah, we need you to sign an NDA. It’s not personal, just… well, you know how things can get.”

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “We trust you, but this is more for everyone’s peace of mind. You understand, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “I get it completely. I’d probably do the same if I were in your position.” You reached over to the bedside table for your phone, all of your phones were there thanks to Sunghoon, who stood up and grab all of them three. “So, how does this work? Should I text my info to your manager?”

Sunghoon tilted his head, clearly impressed by your level-headed response. “We’ll handle it. Our team can send it to you digitally, or if you’re comfortable, we can go over it together before you leave.”

Jake gave a lopsided grin. “Thank you for taking it well. Most people would freak out or make it awkward.”

“I don’t plan on ruining the best night of my life by overthinking,” you said, smirking. “Plus, I kind of expected this. It’s not like I can go around bragging about having a threesome with my favorite artist.”

They both laughed, and the tension in the air eased. Sunghoon leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thanks for understanding. We’ll make it quick and painless.”

Jake grabbed his phone too, scrolling through it for a moment. “I’ll shoot a message to our manager and let him know. They’ll probably have it ready in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surreal nature of the situation. Here you were, tangled in the sheets with two idols, discussing legal documents. “This has to be the strangest post-sex conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Well, it’s a first for us too,” Sunghoon admitted, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I think it’s safe to say this was worth it.”

Jake nodded in agreement, setting his phone down as he pulled you both closer. “Definitely worth it. And who knows? Maybe we’ll need to renegotiate the terms if we ever want to do this again.”

─── DON'T MIND ME, I <3 ROCKSTARS! I really got into it, hope this is a good enough blog to come back to enhablr, sorry if it's too long, got carried away as you saw. any grammar mistakes will be solved later!

𓄴 𝐓aglist (mostly moots!): @hheeluv @awqken @taeghi @caratstick @021894s @hees-love @heechwe @yangkkomi @dollyyun @wwooyology @ja3yun @v1rtu4ld0ll

[00valentina-does-things00]

Short Drabble: Revealing clothing

The Leaky drop was unusually loud tonight, the clinking of glasses and overlapping conversations blending into a cacophony of sound that filled the smoky air. Sevika lounged in her usual booth, one arm draped over the back of the seat, a cigar smoldering between her fingers. Her sharp eyes tracked your figure as you moved through the crowd, wearing that damn tight dress she hadn’t seen before. It clung to you in all the right places, the fabric teasingly highlighting the curve of your hips and the line of your thighs.

Her jaw tightened as she took a slow drag from her cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke. She loved the way you looked, but she hated the way others stared. Their eyes lingered too long, their gazes filled with a mix of envy and something more primal. Sevika’s possessiveness simmered just beneath the surface, her fingers tapping idly against the table as she watched you weave through the room.

You finally made your way back to her, sliding into the booth across from her with a playful smirk. “Enjoying the view, ma’am?” you teased, emphasizing the title in that saccharine tone you knew drove her crazy.

Her lips curled into a slow, wolfish grin as she leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. The cigar dangled between her fingers, its ember glowing faintly in the dim light. “You trying to rile me up, sweetheart?” Her voice was low, rough, and laced with amusement.

You shrugged, feigning innocence as you took a sip of your drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sevika chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “You know exactly what you’re doing.” She leaned back again, her sharp gaze still locked on you, watching the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your glass.

The tension crackled between you like electricity, the kind that made your skin prickle and your pulse quicken. Sevika thrived on that tension, on the way you challenged her in ways no one else dared. But tonight, you were testing her patience.

When you shifted in your seat, crossing one leg over the other, the hem of your dress rode up just slightly, exposing more of your thigh. Sevika’s metal fingers twitched, the sharp contrast of her prosthetic and her restrained desire making her jaw clench.

���Keep playing this game, and you’ll regret it,” she warned, her voice dropping into that dangerously soft tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, your smirk widening. “Oh? What are you gonna do, boss?”

Sevika didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stubbed out her cigar in the ashtray and stood, her towering frame casting a shadow over you. She extended a hand, her metal fingers glinting in the light.

“Let’s go,” she said simply.

You blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness. “But I haven’t finished my—”

“Now.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you slipped your hand into hers, letting her pull you to your feet. Her grip was firm, her fingers warm against your skin as she led you through the bar and out into the cool night air.

The walk to her apartment was silent, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the heat of her gaze on you, her grip on your hand tightening slightly every time someone on the street glanced in your direction.

When you finally reached her place, Sevika wasted no time. The door had barely closed before she pushed you up against it, her hands bracketing your hips as her body pressed against yours.

“You think it’s funny, parading around like that? Letting everyone else get a look at what’s mine?” she growled, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched, your hands instinctively gripping her arms. “Maybe I just wanted your attention,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly under her intense gaze.

“Oh, you’ve got my attention, sweetheart,” Sevika said, her lips curling into that wolfish grin again. Her hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as she carried you to the bedroom.

She dropped you onto the bed, her eyes dark and hungry as she loomed over you. “You’ve been a brat all night,” she said, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement. “You think you deserve to be rewarded for that?”

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you looked up at her. “Maybe,” you said softly, the defiance in your tone tempered by the vulnerability in your eyes.

Sevika chuckled, shaking her head. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” She climbed onto the bed, her body pinning yours as her lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss.

Her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin that had been teasing her all night. She reveled in the way you trembled under her touch, in the soft whimpers and gasps that escaped your lips.

When she pulled back, her lips were curved into a smirk, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Now,” she said, her voice low and commanding, “you’re gonna do exactly what I say. Understand?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as her hand trailed up your thigh, her metal fingers cool against your heated skin. “Yes, ma’am,” you whispered, the words falling from your lips without hesitation.

Sevika’s grin widened, satisfaction flickering across her features. “Good girl.”

[sweetshuga]

Argument ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

bf!matt! Arguing until you ask him "what did you just say?" and everything escalates from there.

Warnings! Smut!, strong language!, pet names (baby, pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (not recommended), jealous!matt,

Word count. 946

Note. English is not my first language!

"No— okay, you’re being completely unreasonable," you yelled from the living room to your boyfriend that was now fast approaching, his steps heavy and angry, "I’m being unreasonable? Me?" He said in a disbelieving tone, "I’m being unreasonable?" He repeated, frustration evident in his mannerism and tone, eliciting a heavy sigh from you.

"Matthew, I’m telling you, you’re misunderstanding everything! Why won’t you listen to me–" A harsh bark of laughter cut you off, "right, I’m misunderstanding, I’m the one being unreasonable and not my girlfriend who was seen parading around with another guy, laughing like he was the funniest man on earth."

Your eyes narrowed, the anger simmering just above the surface as you sighed in frustration, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again, looking straight into his. "Look, let’s not fight over something so stupid like that, he’s gay, he has zero fucking interests in women–" he cut you off, but you couldn’t quite make out what he said.

"What did you just say?" You asked, to which your boyfriend gave you a deadpanned look. "You heard me." He simply said, causing your eyebrows to shoot up in surprise, "I didn’t, what did you say?" He groaned – almost growled – in frustration, "you fuckin’ heard me!" a shudder of desire shot through you like electricity at his tone and words, despite the scowl on your face.

"You’re fucking mumbling, I can’t hear you-" A gasp left your mouth when he suddenly pinned you to the couch, his face mere inches away from yours, "can you fucking hear me now? Or are you so fucking deaf that I have to get closer for you to hear me better?" The tone itself made you soaked—you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

You shook your head, your anger fading completely. "No, I uh... can hear you," you mumbled, now being the quiet one. A smirk plastered on his lips, almost trumphiant.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured, his gaze flicking down to your lips before travelling up your face and to your eyes, his pupils dilated. "So? What were you saying about that guy again? He’s gay? So what? Doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate a pretty woman," he leaned forward until his breath ghosted over your lips.

You gulped audibly, a stutter in your voice, "Matt." Is all you could say – or rather, whisper – your brain already getting fogged from his proximity. The heat pooling down made you shift slightly, trying to get the slightest bit of friction.

That didn’t go unnoticed by him, a chuckle rumbling out as he leaned further down and nuzzled in the space where your shoulder met your neck. You shivered when he let his warm breath ghost over that spot. "Matt—please," you begged without thinking.

"Hm? Please? Please what?" He taunted on purpose, lifting his head to look at you. His smirk slowly widened as he took in the way your chest rose and fell, the shallower, shakier breaths.

Obvious arousal evident on every fiber of your being.

"Please, touch me— please Matt," he exhaled deeply at your needy tone, "don’t have to ask twice." His hands caressed your sides and up your body, slowly fondling your tits.

Your breath hitching and body arching towards his hands only fueled his own desires – the way you were reacting to his touch was intoxicating – making him let out a low groan as he leaned forward again and started to leave soft kisses down your neck and collarbone.

His fingers, deftly, unhooked your bra under your shirt. His movements were more hurried now, wanting— needing to see you bare. Breaking the kisses on your neck just to take off your t-shirt before diving down to your chest.

He lavished attention to your tits, after all, he loved them. One of his hands held your waist, and the other one sneaked into your cotton shorts, rubbing you through your panties.

Your lips parted to let out breathy moans, your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him more into your tits. He hummed in approval, his hand snaking inside your panties, rubbing your clit directly, groaning at just how soaked you were.

Your hips jerked and moved, only to be held tightly by his hand, causing your moans to turn a slight bit more louder. He left a few longing kisses on your chest before sitting back on his haunches.

You whined at the loss of contact, your body burning with unfulfilled desires, "Matt-" He cut you off, "shh— I know baby, c’mon, lift up those hips fo’me pretty." You lifted your hips, letting him take off your shorts and panties.

You were left bare to his hungry gaze, only averted when he took off his own t-shirt. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, one of his hands held your thighs apart while his other hand unbuckled his belt with expert ease.

Matt kicked off his pants and boxer briefs before settling between your spread thighs. His hands slowly caressed your sides, admiring your beauty, making your body shiver in anticipation.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered, "This’ll make sure you can hear me... and only me." He chuckled lowly in your ear – sending goosebumps up your body – before pushing the head of his cock inside, stretching you deliciously, inch by inch.

Breathy moans left your lips as he started to move, each thrust making him go deeper, brushing against your cervix. Relishing in your moans as he lost himself in the feeling of your pussy almost sucking him in, gripping him like a vice.

𓆩♡𓆪

Isa's notes. Inspired by last week's video. Also, Matt shouting/yelling does something to me. Am I getting the hang of writing suggestive content? Yeah... no.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[theballadofharkness]

Whisky and Wine: Part 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Debella X fem!reader

Summary: The last thing you expected when you came home from your publishers to your older partner Claire’s home was an invitation to her friend’s, Billionaire Miles Bron, private luxury yacht for the weekend. The problem? Claire had been very careful to keep her fellow disrupters away from you, terrified they would ruin yet another aspect of her life. But nobody says no to Miles, so you find yourself surrounded by Claire’s ‘inner circle’.

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: Explicit smut, probably the most smut I’ve ever written?? So as always minors DNI

A/N: apologises this took so long! I was getting the smut just right for you my loves but I should be back to updating more regularly and for those who enjoy my Agatha works, I have quite a few things to publish soon xo 💜🪻

The club is electric.

A blur of flashing neon, bass so heavy it rattles in your ribs, heat thick with sweat and smoke and indulgence. Excess wealth drips from every surface, from the imported leather booths to the bottles of champagne being paraded through the crowd, sparklers fizzing in the dim light. It’s obscene. And Miles fits right in. You see it in the way he moves through the room, eating up the attention, the way people part for him, orbit him like he’s the center of their universe. He drinks it in, revels in it.

And then his gaze lands back on you.

Claire’s hand is already on your hip, fingers resting just inside the dip of your dress, grounding. She’s been like this since she almost lost you, unable to stop touching you, keeping you close like you’ll slip through her fingers if she doesn’t hold on tight enough.

But Miles? He doesn’t care. He sidles up, drink in hand, grin lazy and too familiar.

"You’re something else, you know that?" He says it smooth, all charm and casual confidence, his eyes sweeping over you, lingering in a way that makes your skin crawl. "Claire’s got good taste." A slow sip of his drink, a smirk. "Real good taste."

Claire stiffens. It’s subtle, just the faintest shift in her posture, the slight curl of her fingers against your hip, but you feel it. "I know," she says, voice smooth as glass, but firm. Unyielding.

Miles just chuckles, shaking his head, leaning in slightly- too close, close enough that you catch the faintest trace of his cologne, something sharp and manufactured. "You should let her dance," he muses, tipping his chin toward the crowded floor. "Relax. Have a little fun. You don’t always have to keep such a tight grip, Claire."

His eyes flick back to you, something hungry in them. Something that makes your stomach churn. But before you can react, before you can so much as breathe, Claire is moving. Her hand slides from your hip to your waist, pulling you flush against her, her other arm coming up to drape across your front, keeping you right where she wants you.

"She’s mine, Miles." Her voice is velvet and steel, smooth but dangerous. She doesn’t raise it, doesn’t have to. "And she’s perfectly happy right where she is."

Miles raises his hands in mock surrender, smirking. "Alright, alright," he laughs. "No need to get territorial."

But that’s exactly what this is. Territory. And Claire is staking her claim. You feel the way her grip lingers, the way her breath is just slightly uneven against your hair. She’s rattled. More than she wants to admit. So you lean back, pressing into her warmth, letting your head tip against her shoulder.

"You’re right," you murmur, just for her. "I’m perfectly happy where I am."

Her exhale is shaky. And then she presses a kiss, soft but firm, to the side of your neck. Not just for you. For Miles, too. A warning. A promise. A claim. And Miles? He’s still watching.

You can feel it. Every time his gaze drags over you, every time his smirk flickers, every time he whispers something to Whisky and doesn’t bother to look away when Claire catches him.

She’s tense. You feel it in the way she pulls you closer on the dance floor, the way her hands are firmer, the way she presses against you, like she’s shielding you from something unseen. Like she owns you. And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the music, maybe it’s just her, but you like it.

"Dance with me," she murmurs, voice low, rough at the edges, her breath warm against your ear.

And you do.

You let yourself melt into her, swaying with the rhythm, letting her hands grip your waist, guide your movements, keep you exactly where she wants you.

"Fuck, baby," she breathes, lips just barely grazing your jaw, her fingers digging into your skin as you press your body against hers. "You look so fucking good like this."

Your head is spinning, your pulse skipping as you whimper, as your hands find the sharp lines of her shoulders, steadying yourself against her.

"Claire-"

But she’s already moving, already tilting your chin up, already claiming your mouth with hers. Hot and possessive, her tongue sweeping over yours, her hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as she devours you right there, in the middle of the club, in front of everyone. And maybe it’s petty, maybe it’s reckless, maybe it’s just desperate, but you let her. Let her kiss you breathless, let her stake her claim, let her pull you in so tight you forget about everything else- about Miles, about the lies, about the tangled mess of the night. All you know is her. Her lips, her hands, her body burning against yours.

And when she finally pulls back, her breathing ragged, her grip still tight, you allow yourself to take in your surroundings.

Birdie is a spectacle, commanding the room the way only she can: loud, uninhibited, draped over Lionel, who looks half amused, half horrified, but still dances with her because resisting Birdie Jay is simply not an option. Whisky is dancing filthy against Duke, all slow rolls of her hips and teasing fingertips, her body built to be watched, to be desired. And then there’s Miles. Sitting back in his chair like it’s a throne, watching it all unfold, swirling the last of his whiskey in his glass like a king surveying his kingdom. His eyes flick from Birdie and Lionel, to Whisky and Duke, to Claire, to you. Always back to you.

Because for all his wealth, for all his power, for all the ways he’s collected and bought the people around him- he doesn’t own you. And that? That’s an itch he is dying to scratch.

But you’re too busy being wrapped around Claire, pressed against her as you move, as the music swells, as the heat builds between you. She’s been holding you, guiding your body, her breath heavy against your neck, her hands running down your waist, her fingers tightening every time you grind back against her.

"Fuck, baby," she groans, voice thick with want, "you’re gonna kill me."

You tilt your head back to brush your lips over the shell of her ear, barely-there, teasing. "I need you to do something for me, Mommy."

The choked noise she makes goes straight to your core. Her grip tightens, her nails digging in just enough to ground herself, to control herself, but barely. "Anything, baby, just- fuck just tell me."

And you feel the power shift. You have her. Just like Miles wants to have you.

So you turn in her arms, winding yours around her neck, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of heat, of want, of command into it. And when you finally break away, your lips barely brushing hers, you say it- low, firm, final:

"This is the last time."

Claire blinks, hazy, desperate, drowning in you. "Wha-"

"You’ve done enough for him." You look directly at her, eyes sharp, cutting through the haze, through the club, through everything. "No more."

Her breath stutters. Her fingers flex against you. And then, soft, shaky, like a promise she doesn’t know if she can keep but wants to, for you. "Okay, baby."

And behind you, from across the room Miles watches. And smirks.

"Claire!" Birdie’s voice cuts through the music, demanding, exuberant, as she practically twirls Lionel around on the dance floor. "Come dance with us!"

Claire barely has time to respond before Birdie’s attention snaps elsewhere. "Duuuuuuuuke!"

Duke, mid-drink, immediately straightens, puffing out his chest as he strides over. "DISRUPTORS ASSEMBLE!" he bellows, grinning wide, slinging an arm around Lionel.

You laugh, just a little, shaking your head, and turn to Claire, smoothing your hands over her chest before giving her a gentle push. "Go on," you murmur. "They’re your friends. I’m just gonna grab a drink."

She hesitates, just for a second, just long enough for her fingers to tighten on your hips. "Baby-"

"Go," you insist, softer this time, pressing a quick kiss to her jaw before stepping away.

Miles watches you from the edge of the dance floor, but when Claire finally lets you go, when she joins the group, he moves too, slipping back into the writhing mass of bodies, back into his kingdom.

You exhale, rolling your shoulders, and make your way toward the VIP bar. And that's where you find Peg. Sprawled out on a velvet sofa, one arm draped over her face, looking seconds from accepting her fate and just passing out right there. She hears you approach more than she sees you, cracking one eye open with a groggy groan before shifting just enough to make room for you.

"Ah," she sighs, voice flat, "welcome to the reject sofa."

You laugh, sinking down beside her, the exhaustion suddenly creeping in now that you're sitting. "That bad?"

"Worse." She gestures vaguely at the club, at the chaos, at everything. "Birdie is in full spectacle mode, Lionel is one drink away from an aneurysm, and Miles is being... well. Miles."

You hum, glancing toward the bar just as Whisky steps up, ordering something strong and dark before turning, catching sight of the two of you, and smirking.

"Oh, so this is where the cool girls hang out," she teases, slipping into the seat across from you, crossing her legs as she swirls her drink. "Mind if I join"

Peg snorts. "Please. The reject sofa welcomes all."

Whisky settles in beside you, stretching out her long legs, and tilts her head toward you with an easy, knowing smirk. "So," she drawls, "are you still mad at me?"

You sigh, slumping a little, resting your head against her shoulder. "No."

She huffs a little laugh, the warmth of it brushing against your temple as she takes a sip of her drink. "That didn’t sound very convincing."

"I’m sorry," you admit, voice soft, heavy with exhaustion. "I just-" You exhale, rubbing a hand over your face. "I hate this trip."

Whisky smiles, nodding like she gets it, because she does. "Yeah," she murmurs. "I get it. These things bring out the worst in us all” She shifts, tilting her head toward Peg. "This is my third one. And it’s awful every time."

Peg laughs, dry and sharp, lifting her glass. "Oh, three?" She grins, eyes glinting with something almost manic. "Try six”

You and Whisky both whip around to gape at her.

"Six?!" Whisky gawks, looking horrified. "How are you even still alive?"

Peg just shrugs, taking a long, deliberate sip of her drink before leveling them both with a deadpan expression. "I’m not."

You snort, pressing your face into Whisky’s shoulder to stifle the laugh bubbling up.

"I mean, to be fair," Peg continues, leaning back into the sofa, "the first couple weren’t so bad. Back when Andi was still around to keep Miles in check. But once he started thinking of himself as a genius, it was all downhill from there."

"God, I bet," Whisky mutters, taking another sip.

You shift, glancing toward the dance floor, where Claire is still tangled up in the group, her sharp, poised movements almost reluctant, like she’s indulging Birdie rather than actually enjoying herself. Your stomach twists. You don’t want to think about why.

"You know," Whisky says, drawing your attention back to her, "the best way to survive one of these trips?" She lifts her glass, winking. "Drinking just enough that you don’t care."

Peg raises her glass in agreement. "Amen."

You take a slow sip of your drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down, before exhaling sharply and leaning back against the sofa. "Fine," you mutter, setting your glass down with a decisive clink. "I’ll be the first one to say it.”

You glance between them, then out toward the dance floor, where Miles is laughing too loud, where Claire is wrapped up in it all, back in the fold, back in the place that makes you feel sick. "What do you think about them all agreeing to do this?"

The air between you shifts. The easy humor from moments ago drains, slipping into something heavier.

Whisky exhales, rolling her glass between her palms, her expression more thoughtful than upset. "Honestly?" she murmurs. "I get it."

Peg raises a brow. "You get it?"

Whisky shrugs. "Look, I’m not saying it’s right, it’s obviously fucked, but…" She sighs, tipping her head back, staring up at the glowing lights overhead. "I have options. Duke? Miles? I can figure something out. But them? They need him."

Peg scoffs. "Damn, that’s cold. You’re not worried for Duke?"

"Of course I am!" Whisky snaps, suddenly defensive, leaning forward. "But he won’t listen to me. I’ve tried before. He keeps saying this is just how the game works, that if you don’t take what’s offered, someone else will."

You chew on your lip, absorbing her words because there’s nothing else to say. Then you turn to Peg. She’s stiff, her jaw tight, her fingers clenched in the fabric of her dress like she’s bracing herself.

"And you?" you press.

She doesn’t answer immediately. She stares down at her drink, like it might hold the answer, like it might give her a way out.

"I can’t even begin to think about this," she finally mutters, voice small, fragile in a way Peg never is. "This could destroy her." Her fingers tighten around her glass, knuckles white. "And then I’m ruined."

You swallow. "Peg-"

"I’ve only ever worked for Birdie," she cuts in, bitter, shaking her head. "Apart from that one short stint working at Claire’s till I got fired for piercing a kid's ear wrong. And if this goes bad- if this turns into something we can’t come back from- I’ll have nothing. I’ll be nothing."

None of you speak after that. There’s nothing to say. You just sit there, the three of you, watching the people who hold your futures in their hands and hope they don’t break them.

Whisky watches you for a moment, swirling the last of her drink in her glass. Then, carefully, she asks, "And you?"

You exhale slowly, pressing your fingers against your temples, willing the tension in your skull to ease. "I-" You shake your head, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek, like you can force the words back down. But you can’t. You’re too tired. Too done.

"I’ve never been more afraid in my whole life."

Peg shifts beside you. Whisky frowns. They’re listening now. Really listening.

The words pour out before you can stop them. "I hate this," you admit, voice low, sharp, a confession ripped from you. "I hate him. I hate all of this. Miles, everything he’s done, everything he’s making them do- it’s sick."

You pause, dragging a hand through your hair, frustration mounting. "And the worst part? I can’t stop it. I can’t change it. I can’t make her see how wrong this is, because she already knows."

Peg sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Then why-"

"Because she doesn’t think she has a choice.” Your voice comes out hard, angrier than you meant it to, but you don’t take it back. Because it’s the truth. You scoff, shaking your head. "And maybe she doesn’t. Maybe none of them do."

Peg exhales sharply through her nose. "That’s bullshit."

"Is it?" you snap, finally turning to look at her. "What would you do, Peg? Huh? Why aren’t you going to Birdie now and telling her she can’t go through this."

She stares at you, silent.

"Yeah." You shake your head, voice bitter. "That’s what I thought." The worst part is that you aren’t even mad at Peg. You’re mad at yourself. Because you do hate this. You hate everything about it.

You press your fingers against your closed eyes, exhaling hard. "She’s my world."

Whisky leans forward slightly, her expression unreadable. "And that means what?"

You let out a humorless laugh, feeling the burn of unshed tears behind your eyes. "It means I can’t go against her.” You exhale slowly, pressing your fingers against your temples, willing the tension in your skull to ease. “I love her," you say, quieter this time. "I love her more than I hate any of this."

Peg sighs, rubbing a hand over her face before leaning her head back against the sofa. "That’s rough."

Whisky doesn’t say anything. Just presses her lips together, nodding slightly, like she understands. And she does. You all do. Because that’s what Miles does. He doesn’t just own people. He makes sure they can’t afford to leave.

The music shifts to something louder, something thicker with bass, and suddenly, the energy around you shifts with it. Birdie practically twirls her way over, hair slightly damp with sweat, eyes bright and wild as she flings herself toward Peg. "Oh my GOD, come dance with me!"

Peg groans. "Birdie-"

"Nooo," she whines dramatically, wrapping her arms around Peg’s shoulders, ignoring the way her assistant stiffens. "You never have any fun, come on!"

Peg opens her mouth, probably to tell Birdie exactly where she can shove her idea of fun, but before she can, Duke is suddenly there, all grinning, puffed-up energy as he claps his hands together. "Ladies!"

You sigh, already knowing where this is going.

"Disruptors assemble, come on!" Duke hollers, practically grabbing Whisky’s hand, dragging her up to her feet like she’s some kind of trophy to be presented. "Show ‘em how it’s done, babe!"

Whisky rolls her eyes, but you can see the small, pleased smile on her lips as she lets him lead her toward the dance floor.

Birdie, meanwhile, is still clinging to Peg. "Pleeease!"

Peg groans again, then glances at you like she’s seriously debating making you take her place.

You just raise an eyebrow. "Go on Peg."

She glares. "Traitor." But she goes regardless.

"Baby?"

The second you hear her voice, feel her hands, warm and steady on your arms, it’s like everything inside you just collapses. You look up, vision blurred, and there she is, your Claire, forehead slightly damp, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, like she ran to find you.

Her brows are pulled together, her lips slightly parted, voice tight with worry. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head, blinking quickly, trying to steady yourself. "Nothing, I-"

She cups your face immediately, searching your expression, eyes darting across your features like she’s trying to solve you. "Baby, talk to me."

You exhale sharply, swallowing against the lump in your throat. "I just…” Your voice cracks.

Her grip tightens. "Shhh, shhh, it’s okay-"

And fuck, that does it. You let out a soft, shaky laugh, a few more tears slipping free, "I just love you so much."

She freezes. Like she wasn’t expecting that. Like it hits her, right in the chest. And then she’s breathing out, hands framing your jaw, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss so tender you melt. It’s warm. Steady. Not rushed, not desperate. It’s home. And for a moment, for this one moment, none of the rest of it matters. Not the fight. Not Miles. Not the trial. Not any of it. Just you and her.

The club is a mess of lights and bodies, heat and motion. The music is louder now, pounding through the floors, vibrating against your skin as the night stretches longer, looser, drunker. Birdie is giggling at something Lionel just muttered into his drink. Duke is showing off, glass in one hand, the other firmly gripping Whisky’s hip. Miles is watching everything like he owns it, like he orchestrated this whole night like a symphony.

But none of it touches you. Because you’re right here, wrapped in Claire’s arms, tucked against her chest as she holds you in her lap like you belong there. Like she needs you there.

Her fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your thigh, her other arm slung around your waist, keeping you against her. Every now and then, she dips her head, brushing her lips against your temple, your cheek, your jaw, unable to not touch you, to not breathe you in.

And you let her. You let yourself sink into her, let her be warm and solid and yours. You tilt your head slightly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her throat, lips grazing over her pulse. "Baby" you murmur, words drowsy, soft. "Take me back."

Claire inhales sharply, her grip tightening slightly. "Hmm?"

"I’m sleepy," you murmur, shifting in her lap, nuzzling against her shoulder. "Wanna go to bed."

She melts.

You feel it, the way her body relaxes, the way she cradles you closer, the way her breath shudders just a little at how easily you’re giving yourself over to her.

She presses a kiss to your hair, then your temple, then lower, her lips ghosting over your cheekbone as she whispers, "Okay, baby. Let’s get you to bed."

And as she stands, carrying you effortlessly, arms wrapped securely around you, you sigh against her skin.

Because this? This is safe. This is yours.

And whatever happens tomorrow, whatever choices, whatever consequences, whatever comes next, right now, in this moment, Claire is holding you, taking care of you. And you trust her. You always have.

The two of you stumble out of the club, Claire’s hand glued to your waist, practically carrying you because you’re all soft and giggly and melting into her. The music is still thumping inside, but out here, under the Greek moonlight, it’s just you and her.

A TukTuk is waiting, the driver barely sparing you a glance as Claire tugs you in, settling you on her lap like you belong there- because you do.

And then you’re kissing. Lazy, messy kisses, your fingers slipping into her hair, her hands firm on your hips, keeping you exactly where she wants you. It’s that perfect drunken mix of silliness and heat- you giggling against her lips, her murmuring "What’s so funny, baby?" before nipping at your jaw, making you whimper and press closer.

The TukTuk is bouncing along the road, but neither of you care, Claire just laughs when you accidentally pull her too hard and she bumps into the side, and you just kiss her harder in apology. It’s breathless and sweet, hands wandering, bodies pressed together, but it’s also that kind of drunk where you’re just so in love that it hurts. Claire’s stroking your thigh, kissing your shoulder, whispering against your skin, "I love you, baby. My sweet girl. My perfect girl." And you just whimper because you love her so much it’s physically painful.

By the time the yacht is in sight, Claire is fixing your dress, tucking your hair behind your ears, making sure you look okay even though you’re both wrecked from kissing. She pays the driver without a second thought, barely looking away from you, whispering “C’mon, let’s get you to bed, angel."

And you just nod, letting her take care of you, knowing she always will.

Claire is stumbling up the yacht’s steps with you, both of you giggling between kisses, like teenagers sneaking around. Your lips are swollen, your hands can’t stop grasping at each other, and neither of you is exactly steady on your feet.

She barely gets the door to your suite shut before you push her against it, hands tugging at the lapels of her ludicrously expensive dress, mouth slanting over hers with a mix of hunger and affection. Claire just moans, gripping your waist and flipping you so you’re against the door now, kissing you breathless as her hands roam.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, lips trailing down your jaw, along the column of your throat, while you just laugh all breathless and tipsy, tilting your head back to let her have more.

You stumble toward the bed together, nearly falling when Claire tries to step out of her heels and you try to help, which just turns into both of you cackling, Claire grabbing you to steady herself before just tackling you onto the plush mattress.

“Okay, okay, hold still,” she grins, sitting up to unzip your dress, her fingers shaky but so gentle, peeling the expensive fabric slowly off your shoulders, like she’s unwrapping something precious. You just watch her, all hazy and soft, letting her take care of you, because she loves this part, loves undoing you, loves making sure you’re comfortable, loves knowing you’re all hers.

She finally tugs your dress off, her gaze dark as she drags her hands down your bare skin, and you just whimper, pulling her back down, kissing her deeply because you need her, need to feel her- and then you laugh, because Claire’s struggling with her own dress now, and you sit up, batting her hands away, whispering “Let me do it.”

Claire just groans when you say that, her hands trembling as you start undoing the delicate fastenings of her dress. She should be helping, or at least be sane about this, but god your voice, your hands, the way you’re looking at her like she’s everything, it’s got her melting.

“You drive me crazy,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and deep, her hands smoothing down your bare sides as you work her dress down.

You giggle into her mouth, flushed from both the heat between you and the leftover wine in your system. “I know,” you tease, pushing the fabric past her hips until it pools onto the floor.

And fuck, she’s so perfect, all soft curves, wearing just her underwear now, her hair slightly messy from your hands, her lipstick smudged from your kisses. She’s never looked more beautiful, and you whimper, pulling her back to you, needing her close.

She settles over you, her weight pressing you into the bed, her lips finding your neck, suckling just enough to make you shiver. “I’ve got you,” she whispers between kisses, her fingers trailing down your stomach, touching, teasing, worshiping.

“Mmm, Mommy,” you sigh, arching into her, wrapping your legs around her waist, relishing the feel of her body against yours.

She just smiles, so utterly infatuated, and brushes her nose against yours. “Let me take care of you, baby,” she murmurs, voice soaked in devotion, in love.

And then her lips are on yours again, deeper this time, hotter, her hands roaming, her touch possessive and cherishing, like she needs you just as much as you need her.

She gets distracted for a moment by your cleavage, biting her lip in a way that makes you shiver, before she’s pulling you on top of her. Claire reaches down and you arch your back as she plays with your pussy, fingers dancing over your clit and then pushing inside. You whimper as she hooks them, pumping them in and out, her eyes on yours the entire time. She’s got a knowing look in her eyes as she watches you squirm against her hand, her hips pushing up into yours and your clit dragging against her thigh.

You’re writhing on top of her, panting softly, when she stops and you let out a needy whine. Claire just smirks, before pulling you down onto the bed beside her. Her hands roam your body, teasingly light, as your thighs squeeze together against the ache she’s created.

“Please,” you whisper against her lips. “Touch me.”

Claire huffs a laugh, biting your lower lip before sucking on it. Her hand slides between your legs and you shudder against her touch, hips twitching. She keeps teasing you for a while, until you’re writhing under her touch.

“Fuck,” Claire breathes out, and then you’re crying out as she pushes three fingers into your cunt, thrusting them in slowly. You arch your back, your toes curling against the mattress, as Claire fucks you with her fingers. “That’s a good girl,” she murmurs in your ear as your whimpers turn into a keening moan. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this. Cum for me.”

You cry out her name as your orgasm rips through you, pleasure pulsing out from your clit. Claire watches you, fingers still buried in your cunt. When you finally come down from it, she pulls her hand away and licks off her fingers, smirking softly.

You reach up, tugging gently at the neckline of her bra. Claire laughs softly, leaning back to take it off for you, and then you’re burying your face between her tits, moaning softly as she cups them in her hands. Your hips squirm as your clit aches for her, and you move so you’re between her legs, kissing down her body until you’re breathing hotly over her cunt.

Claire sucks in a breath, hands reaching up to tug at your hair as you lap gently at her clit. You press your lips to her inner thighs, kissing up and down before you return to her cunt, lapping at her entrance before pushing your tongue inside. She lets out a low moan, hips arching off the bed. You moan against her, moving so you can finger her as you lick her clit.

You’re eating her out with desperation, wanting nothing more than to feel her cum on your tongue. You know exactly what she likes, and soon she’s crying out your name as she clenches around your fingers and you lap up every last drop of her.

“God, I love you,” Claire whispers as you curl up against her.

You press your lips to her jaw, nuzzling her softly. “I love you too.” You snuggle deeper into her arms, feeling exhausted from your night. “You make me so happy.”

Claire kisses your forehead, smiling down at you. You press a kiss to her lips, before trailing them down her neck. You take her hand and guide it between your legs, biting your lip as you feel her fingers against your pussy. She starts rubbing you gently, and you lean down to kiss her. Her tongue slips out to meet yours, pushing into your mouth. You groan as she thrusts it in and out of your mouth, fucking it with the same desperation she showed when she fingered you.

Claire’s fingers slip inside and you moan into her mouth, grinding down on her hand as her tongue fills your mouth again. You push your hand between her legs and she breaks the kiss to moan, pushing her hips up against your fingers. You play with each other as you make out, both of your hips moving desperately. You can feel her getting wetter against your hand and you know you must be doing the same against hers. She moans into another kiss as you add a finger to her cunt, and you can feel yourself getting closer as she hooks her fingers inside you.

Her tongue fills your mouth again as her fingers push deep inside you, curling and uncurling as they fuck into your pussy. You’re so close that you feel like you can’t hold on much longer, and you don’t even try as pleasure rips through your body again. You whine into her mouth as your orgasm pulses through your body, and you feel her cumming against your hand a moment later.

You stay like that for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of your bodies together. You can feel the heat between your legs, the stickiness of your sweat, and the smell of sex filling the air. You kiss her softly as you pull your hand away, smiling softly. Claire does the same, her eyes soft as she looks at you.

She rolls you over onto your back before crawling on top of you. You let out a delighted yelp as she kisses down your body, starting at your collarbones and then working her way down until you’re moaning softly against her mouth. She kisses your stomach softly, before pulling your legs apart and burying her face between them. You cry out her name as she starts licking you, sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time.

You can’t stop moving, hips twitching as her tongue dances over your pussy. Her fingers fuck into you as her tongue drags over your clit, and you’re not surprised when you cum again, barely a few moments later. You’re shaking as pleasure rips through you again. Claire doesn’t stop until you’re pulling weakly at her hair, panting as you try to catch your breath.

You manage to get your legs closed around her head as you try to calm down, but you feel exhausted when you do. Claire slides up your body, kissing you softly as her eyes crinkle at the corners. You smile back at her, reaching up to run your hands through her hair. You kiss again, tongues sliding together softly, and you sink into the feeling of her body against yours.

You sigh happily as she settles back against you, resting her head on your chest.You’re both tangled together, breathless and sticky with sweat, the heat of the night still lingering, but everything is quieter now.

Claire pulls you closer, her arms wrapping around you tightly, like she can’t let go. She kisses your forehead, your cheeks, her lips soft and lingering, as if she’s savoring every inch of you. Her touch is so gentle now, each caress careful, as if she’s afraid of breaking something, afraid of losing you after everything that’s happened.

“Baby…” Her voice is soft, full of awe and affection. “I… you have no idea what you do to me. I’m—”

You press a finger against her lips, silencing her, and you feel her shiver under your touch.

“No need to say anything,” you murmur, running your hand through her hair, soothing her. “Just… be with me. Let me take care of you.”

Claire nods, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch. You can feel the weight of the night, the tension, the stress of everything she’s been holding on to… and now, it’s melting away, piece by piece, with every soft kiss you give her, every gentle touch.

You trace your fingers down her back, feeling the way her muscles loosen with each pass. She lets out a quiet sigh, her body relaxing, her breathing steadying, and it makes you feel like you’re the one taking care of her now, holding her together.

“Promise me something,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

You look at her, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Anything.”

She kisses you again, slow and deep, like she never wants to pull away. “Promise me you’ll always be mine. No matter what.”

You press your forehead to hers, your hands still tracing circles on her skin, grounding both of you in the softness of this moment.

“I promise,” you say, your voice steady, full of certainty. “I’m yours, always.”

And with that, you both finally drift into the quiet, cocooned in each other’s warmth, knowing whatever happens, you’ve found a place in each other’s hearts that’s unbreakable.

~

The sunlight spills through the curtains, gently kissing your skin, but the stillness of the room is suddenly broken by Claire’s soft groan beside you. Her head’s buried in the pillow, her body tangled in sheets, and you can feel the warmth of her skin radiating, her breath heavy and slow.

You’re not quite awake yet, but the moment your eyes flutter open, you feel it, that undeniable pull. The feeling of being wrapped in her embrace, tangled up with her body, and your chest tightens in that familiar warmth that only she can give you. You try to shift, to stretch your legs, ready to get up and start your day, but Claire has other ideas.

“Uh-uh.” Claire’s voice is low, thick with sleep and that unmistakable edge of mild annoyance.

Before you can protest, she slides an arm across your waist, pulling you right back against her. The strength in her arms is undeniable, and she cages you in, trapping you in her warmth. She buries her face against the back of your neck, mumbling, “No way. You’re staying here.”

You can’t help but laugh softly at how clingy she’s being, but as you settle into the softness of the sheets again, you feel her nuzzle into your skin, her lips pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder.

“I’m hungover,” she mutters, voice muffled against your skin. “I need you here. Can’t be without you.”

You tilt your head, looking back at her, amused, but there’s a warmth in her eyes that makes your heart flutter.

“Oh? I thought you wanted to get up early today to get some food before Duke eats it all,” you tease, reaching back to gently tangle your fingers in her hair, your voice low and playful.

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies with a small chuckle, her arms tightening around you. “Right now, you’re all I need. Don’t make me beg, baby.”

You feel her shiver against you, her hangover already fading away under the weight of her desire for more. You can’t deny her; you never could. You lean back into her embrace, letting her kiss your neck again, feeling her body press close as if she needs this, needs you, just as much as you need her. And even though the world outside is calling, demanding attention, in this moment, you’re perfectly content. Because, when it’s just the two of you, the world can wait.

You can stay here, wrapped up in each other, for as long as you want. You stretch lazily in her arms, smiling as Claire nuzzles into your neck again, pressing soft, lazy kisses to your skin. Her hold on you is firm, like she has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

You hum, eyes still half-closed as you tease, “I don’t even know why you’re so hungover. We didn’t even drink that much.”

Claire stills against you. Then, slowly, she pulls back just enough to give you a look- one brow arching, her lips parting slightly like she can’t believe what you just said.

“Excuse me?” Her voice is flat, but you can hear the threat of amusement in it.

You turn in her arms, grinning up at her. “I mean… I feel fine.” You shrug, all innocent. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m younger.”

Claire scoffs. “Oh, you did not just say that.”

You giggle, reaching up to touch her face, tracing the soft line of her jaw. “Aww, my poor baby. Can’t keep up with me anymore…”

Her eyes darken playfully. “How dare you.”

Before you can react, her hands move to your waist, fingers digging in as she mercilessly tickles your sides. You squeal, trying to wriggle away, but she’d got you.

“No- Claire, stop- ” you gasp between bursts of laughter, trying to grab at her wrists, but she’s relentless.

“You wanna call me old, huh?” she taunts, grinning as she keeps up the attack. “Say it again, baby, I dare you.”

You’re dying, your body twisting under her as you laugh so hard your stomach hurts.

“Okay- okay! You’re not old!” you gasp out, barely able to breathe through the giggles.

Claire smirks in triumph, slowing her assault, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, she presses you deeper into the mattress, shifting so she’s hovering over you, her eyes shining with warmth.

“That’s what I thought,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead before brushing her nose against yours.

You’re still breathless, smiling up at her, heart thudding in your chest.

And you love this. This playful, soft, giddy side of her, the one she only ever shows when it’s just the two of you. Claire is still smiling down at you, her fingers brushing over your sides, her warmth pressing into you, when-

Knock knock knock.

She freezes. Her jaw clenches. “What?” she snaps, voice sharp with irritation, because of course someone is interrupting this moment.

Before either of you can react further, the door swings open.

Miles.

Casual as ever, he steps inside, barely even sparing Claire a glance as he announces, “We’re having brunch now. You’re gonna miss out on the food- Duke’s in bulking season, so, you know, not a lot left.”

And then he rests his eyes on you. His gaze sweeps over the scene, the rumpled sheets barely covering your bare skin, Claire’s shirt hanging off her shoulder, your hair mussed, your entire aura screaming post-sex softness.

You scream, instinctively clutching the sheets and burying yourself against Claire, mortified.

Claire, meanwhile, seethes. Her face darkens instantly, her body going rigid with fury as she all but lunges for something to throw at him.

“Miles, get out!” she roars, her voice so sharp and commanding that even he, in all his smug arrogance, hesitates for a split second.

But then, of course, he just grins.

Like he’s enjoying this.

Like he planned this.

“You know, Claire,” he muses, eyes still very much on you, “you could just say that you’ll come down to brunch later and to save you a croissant. No need to be so hostile.”

Claire grabs the nearest thing, her empty water glass from the bedside table, and hurls it at him. He dodges, laughing as it shatters against the doorframe.

“Alright, alright! Just saying- don’t blame me if there’s no food left!”

And with that, he finally, finally steps out, closing the door behind him. For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat, the heat of embarrassment crawling over your skin. Claire’s arms tighten around you, her breathing heavy with barely restrained rage. Then, finally, she pulls back just enough to look at you, brushing your hair from your face with a gentleness that contrasts the fury still burning in her eyes.

“Are you okay, baby?” she asks, her voice soft, even as her body remains tense.

You nod slowly, still pressed against her. “That was so embarrassing.”

Her expression hardens. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Claire is still muttering under her breath about Miles as she pulls you into the bathroom, her grip firm but careful as if she’s afraid you might slip away. She’s fuming, you can feel it in the tension of her body, the tightness of her jaw.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna-” she starts, but you shush her with a giggle, reaching past her to turn on the shower, steam curling instantly into the air.

“Claire,” you tease, stepping back to peel the sheets off your body, “you can’t murder Miles. Not here. Too many witnesses.”

Claire exhales sharply through her nose. “Baby, do not test me right now.”

But she’s distracted, her eyes drop down to your bare skin, her pupils blown with something other than rage, and suddenly, she’s not thinking about Miles anymore. She tugs you under the water with her, her hands smoothing down your waist, her lips brushing your forehead, your nose, your lips. You hum at the attention, the warm spray cascading over both of you, and for a moment, it’s just that- gentle touches, sleepy kisses, a slow return to reality.

Until, of course, your mouth gets away from you. “You know Miles is fucking Whisky, right?”

Claire pauses.

Her hands still against your back. Then she pulls away just enough to look at you, her brow furrowing. “…Excuse me?”

You grin, loving the way her lips part in mild shock. “Oh, yeah,” you confirm, reaching for the fancy hotel-grade shampoo and squirting some into your palm. “Been happening for a while. But get this- Duke knows. Hell, Duke set it up.”

Claire blinks. Once, twice. “Duke set it up?”

You nod, working the shampoo into her hair, relishing the way she automatically tilts her head into your touch.

“He wants Miles to help boost his career,” you explain casually, fingers massaging into her scalp. “He figured letting his girlfriend sleep with Miles would be an easy way in. Miles gets a hot girl, Duke gets a leg up in his whole alpha-male-streaming-gun-rights-mandom thing.”

Claire stares at you, the water dripping down her face doing nothing to mask her sheer disbelief.

“You’re telling me,” she says slowly, “that Duke is pimping out his own girlfriend… for YouTube views?”

You nod sagely. “Mmhmm.”

The morning sunlight streams through the yacht’s grand windows, casting golden light over the luxurious bathroom. You’re watching with barely contained amusement as Claire soaps up your breasts, still reeling from your whispered revelations about Duke, Whisky, and Miles.

“No. No, absolutely not,” Claire mutters, rubbing your skin as the warm water from the showerhead cascades over her back. “Duke knows? And he’s just- he’s fine with it?”

You bite your lip, fighting back a grin. “I mean, fine might be a stretch. But yeah, it’s all part of his grand plan.”

Claire groans dramatically, tilting her head back under the water, letting it soak through her hair. “Jesus Christ. The absolute state of this group.”

You giggle and wrap your arms around her waist from behind, pressing your cheek to her back. “Mhmm.”

Claire closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. Pinches the bridge of her nose. Then, she turns back to you, her expression exhausted.

“You know what? Nope. Not dealing with this yet.” She tugs you close again, resting her chin on your wet hair. “I’m gonna hold my baby, finish this shower, and then I will process the absolute horror that is this entire fucking trip.”

You giggle against her chest, arms curling around her waist. “Fair enough, my love.”

~

The Greek sun is already sweltering by the time you finish getting ready, the heat seeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your suite as you slip into your bikini. The black fabric is just the right mix of flattering and daring, the wrap skirt flowing effortlessly around your legs as you tie it at your hip, already fantasizing about spending the day sprawled out by the pool with a drink in hand. Sure, you’d have to suffer through the company of people you’d rather avoid, but at least there’d be an infinity pool, bottomless cocktails, and hopefully, your girlfriend in a very nice swimsuit. You turn, expecting to see Claire pulling on something equally as elegant and commanding as her, but instead, she’s got a robe wrapped tight around her, the thick cream fabric covering her completely.

You frown immediately.

"Baby," you say, stepping toward her. "It’s boiling outside. Why are you covering up?"

Claire hesitates. You see the flicker of insecurity flash across her face before she masks it, reaching for her sunglasses instead of meeting your gaze.

"Just…" she exhales, rolling her shoulders as if the movement could shake off the weight pressing down on her. "I don’t know. Birdie was making comments yesterday about how I ‘need to put in more effort’ and then Whisky’s been…” she gestures vaguely, and you immediately understand.

Whisky- young, perfect-bodied, flaunting it all like she was born to be admired. And Claire, in her 40s, feeling like she’s standing next to all that youth as a reminder of everything she used to be. Your chest aches.

"Oh," you say simply, because if you speak too soon, you might say something really dramatic, like how dare you talk shit about my future wife? You file that thought away, stepping closer instead, your fingers gently prying the edges of her robe apart.

“Baby,” you murmur, sliding your hands inside, brushing over the ridiculously soft beige swimsuit she has on underneath. It’s stunning, elegant, high-cut, perfectly hugging the curves of her hips and waist. “You look so sexy.”

Claire scoffs, shaking her head. “Sweetheart…”

“I mean it.” You grip the robe, pushing it further open as you move into her space, making sure she sees the way your eyes roam her body, the way you drink her in like you need her.

She falters, lips parting.

"You’re powerful, Claire," you continue, voice soft but firm. "You’re brilliant. You’re stunning. And if you think for one second that I don’t look at you and feel like the luckiest fucking girl on the planet, you’re out of your mind."

She swallows, hard.

Your hands slide up, tracing her waist, smoothing over the soft swell of her stomach, watching her body react to your touch. "You make me crazy," you whisper, tilting your head up, your breath warm against her lips. "You make me so fucking turned on every time I look at you. You have no idea how beautiful you are."

Her throat bobs. "Baby I-"

"I worship you, Claire," you interrupt, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the underside of her jaw. "You don’t need to cover up because of them. I think you’re the most beautiful woman alive, and that should be the only outside opinion you take any notice of."

Her pulse is racing. You can feel it against your lips, can see the way her body sways into you, like she needs you to hold her up.

“Fuck,” she breathes, gripping your waist as you mouth at her neck, lips and tongue soft, teasing. “You are gonna be the perfect little wife for me one day, aren’t you?”

You pause.

Your heart stops. Then, you grin, pressing a final kiss to her skin before pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. "Yeah, baby," you murmur, fingers trailing up to slip the robe from her shoulders. "I really, really am."

She shudders. Her hands move, cupping your face, tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s more than just a kiss. It’s everything. It’s devotion. It’s love. It’s the way she needs you, the way she aches for you, the way she wants…

You sigh into her mouth, pressing yourself against her, hands sliding around her back as the robe falls to the floor, forgotten. Instead, you reach for something else- a lighter cover-up, a soft, airy sarong that lets her breathe, lets her feel like herself without hiding. She exhales when you drape it over her shoulders, her forehead resting against yours, hands squeezing your waist.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

You smile. “Always, Mommy.”

And then, because you can’t not kiss her again, you do, sighing into her mouth as she melts against you, holding you close like she never wants to let go.

~

You know the moment you step onto the upper deck for brunch that this is going to be exhausting.

The sun is blinding, the heat shimmering off the pristine white of the yacht, but the real discomfort comes from the people- hungover and loud, sprawled across plush seats, drinking fresh-squeezed juice and espresso like it’ll bring them back to life. Birdie is, unsurprisingly, in full force, standing dramatically by the buffet spread, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose as she bemoans how dehydrated she is, making Peg fill her plate while Lionel nods along, pretending to listen. Duke and Whisky are at the far end, Duke double-fisting iced coffees, Whisky looking fresh and unbothered as she scrolls her phone.

And, of course, not one of them acknowledges you when you and Claire arrive. They greet her, Claire, Governor Debella, fellow disruptor, the woman who matters in their eyes,but you? You might as well not exist. You expect it at this point, but it still makes something ugly curl in your chest. You push it down. Instead, you focus on grabbing a cold drink, some fresh fruit, a little bit of toast and eggs. Claire loads up her plate without much care, still slightly groggy from the night before, her free hand settling against your back as you move to sit down.

The chairs are spaced apart, but you immediately shift yours closer to hers, ignoring the way Birdie’s sunglasses-clad eyes flit toward you at the movement. Claire exhales softly, as if just having you near her is enough to ease some of the morning tension. You smile, pressing your thigh against hers as you start to eat.

"Morning, lovebirds."

You grimace.

Miles saunters up to the table, far too chipper for the way everyone else is still blinking blearily against the sunlight, holding a tiny espresso cup in one hand, his other slipping into his pocket. You feel his gaze before you even look at him, that lecherous kind of attention that makes your skin crawl. And sure enough, when you glance up, his eyes are glued to your chest. You frown and shift closer to Claire.

He chuckles, taking a slow sip of his espresso. “You two had quite the morning, huh?”

Claire’s body goes rigid.

You don’t even have to ask what he means, you know, because of course Miles Bron wouldn’t not take the opportunity to bring up walking in on you both in bed.

Claire inhales sharply, jaw tight. “Fuck off, Miles.”

But Miles just laughs, like she’s just being playful. Like this is some casual joke between friends. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Claire-bear.” He smirks, winking as he takes another sip. “You’ve got yourself a beauty.”

Your stomach turns at the way he says it, like you’re some kind of trophy, something Claire should be proud of because it reflects well on her, the same way a luxury car or designer handbag would.You swallow down the disgust, already too tired for another argument. Instead, you turn your focus back to Claire, spearing a piece of fresh melon with your fork and lifting it to her lips. She blinks, startled, but then softens instantly, mouth parting as she lets you feed her. You follow it with a soft, lingering kiss, your lips brushing against hers like it’s just natural, like it’s what you need.

Miles frowns. For just a second, his mask slips, like he doesn’t like that you’re ignoring him, that you’re shifting the focus away from him. But then, just as quickly, he plasters on another easy grin, turning back to the group as he claps his hands together.

“Well, gang,” he announces, “This morning is all about relaxing. We’ve got speedboats coming this afternoon, some good, old-fashioned, high-adrenaline fun. But tonight…” his voice lowers theatrically, and Birdie squeals.

“Oooh! What have you got planned, Miles?”

He smirks. “All will be revealed, my friends.”

And even though it’s still so early in the day, you already have a bad feeling about it.

Taglist: @harknessshi @agathascoven1 @notorious-vick @jessica-mcd @sapphicfleur @lisqueen @starryjeongyeon @brekker157 @maximilfism @meghina18 @onlybynightandonlybysea @buttercandy16 @milflovers4 @rigglemethat @mistyshane30 @certified-sleep-deprived @agathaallalongg @yun4-st4rx @psychickryptonitebouquet @athnastasia @eletricheart @her0in-addicttt @writerspirit @sarahhh-plz @imlike-so-gaydude @morallygreymilfs @worstendingever @trasheddoll2 @womankissersworld

[ravennaortiz]

Valentine’s Day request

Happy (of course) the reader is female, plus size and she is feeling not very confident with herself and happy uses his ways to express his love for her (if this makes sense)

Also can I have smut 👉🏼👈🏻 use your imagination

Hope you enjoy love! 💜Thank you for sending in a request! 💜As always 18+!

You sighed and brushed at your cheek as a tear slipped down. Why had you even bothered to try dressing up? Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you broke yourself down and picked and plucked at the dress as it hugged your plump body. You hated how the fabric clung to your hips and stomach showing the world and you what you hated most. Revealing every roll and jiggle of your body that was normally kept hidden inside your baggy sweats and hoodies.

You had been disillusioned into thinking you could wear pretty and revealing clothing because of your Old Man.  If he picked you over the thin crow eaters with fake breast and asses that paraded around in their tiny tops and skirts then that meant you could wear something similar. But now as you cried even harder, pulling and yanking at the fabric you felt more like meat being put in a sausage casing.

You were so caught up in your emotions and mental spiral that you didn’t hear Happy come in the room. You jumped as you felt hands grab your waist and a warm body press against your back. Your teary eyes met his. He was silent as he chewed on his toothpick and observed you in the mirror. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong. He knew the way you had your pretty dress balled in your fist that you were worried about your size and that you were feeling unconfident. He frowned as he didnt know how else to tell you that your body was amazing. He loved traveling your curves, the way your ass jiggled as he smacked it, the softness of you pressed against him, your thighs wrapping around his head as he had his favorite meal.

You started to speak but Happy shook his head and put a finger to your lips. Normally this would have set you off but the gesture short circuited your mind in the moment as you felt him pressing hard into your back side. Surely he wasn’t getting turned on seeing you bubbling out of your dress you thought.

Carefully he walked the both of you back towards the bed where he sat. Carefully he slid his hands down your waist and over the curve of your hips where he stopped and raised a brow. You frowned as you met his eyes. He wanted something from you but you weren’t sure what. Happy moved his hands back up to your waist and his fingers tapped at the crow on each side before he moved back to your hips. When he stopped again you spoke.

“Yours” you whispered. Happy took one hand and moved it about before putting it back on your hip. You racked your brain knowing he wanted more. “Your beautiful hips?” you questioned making him grin and nod before he moved down to your thighs. This demonstration went on for awhile as he touched every part of you. Your body felt like it was on fire and cold at the same time. Electricity coursing through your veins and your brain getting foggy with pleasure and lust as he trailed his fingers and eventually his lips trailed over every inch of you.

Happy eventually let go of you and turned around on the bed. He grunted and put his hand under your dress tapping your wet panties before tapping his face. Your cheeks heated as the meaning of his gesture was not lost on you. “No. I’m too big” you started before he rose up and bit your ass cheek making you yelp. Your eyes smarted as you felt him reach back under your dress and rip your panties from your body. You spread your legs as you back up over his face slowly.

Happy let out an annoyed huff before grabbing you and pulling you back onto his face and shoving his tongue into your dripping hot center. You moaned as he held you down on him. Your eyes locked on yourself in the mirror, only able to see the top of his bald head peeking out from the hem of your dress as he lapped up every bit of your sweet arousal. His nose rubbing deliciously against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars and your legs getting wobbly. Your orgasm ripped through you in a way that had you throwing your head back and your hips bucking wildly as Happy continued to use his tongue to pleasure you right into another orgasms that had you collapsing onto him entirely, your legs no longer able to support you.

 You heard him and felt him chuckle against your thighs as he planted kisses and bites to them as he moved you down his body before rising up some. Once he caught your eye he raised a brow at you, his face glistening with your release as he licked his lips.

You rolled your eyes as you spoke. “Your wet, hot, gorgeous pussy” you stated making his snort before he pulled you back up into a sitting position and tapped the tent in his jeans.

An hour later you were both sweaty and catching your breaths as you sat atop him. His cock still twitching deep inside you as the last of his release painted your walls. Hands locked together as he smiled up at you. “Do you feel my love for every perfect inch of you now babygirl?” he inquired softly as he watched you examine yourself in the mirror. You nodded before looking down at him. You had never felt so good in your own body before.

“I might need a daily no scratch that at least twice daily reminder though for life” you joked making him laugh.

[luvvrz]

Burning [Logan / Reader, 18+]

AKA: YOUR LITTLE PUPPY! THROW THAT MAN A BONE!

Additional tags: Pet play ig but not really? Subby Logan, Servitude, Meowwwww

OTHER WORKS

Soft. Too god damn soft.

This was one of the rare instances when Logan wasn't being the gruff, stick-up-the-ass old man everyone knew him to be. I mean, an attempt was certainly made, but it was hard to act accordingly when you were on top of him like that, riding him like you were fuckin' made to do it.

Those hips of yours are sin incarnate, and he's unsure of where to look. His eyes keep fluttering, and it's one helluva fight trying to keep them open, but he's managing - because you told him to, and he'll be damned if he doesn't say how high when you tell him to jump.

Finally, he decides to settle his gaze on that pretty face of yours, unsurprised to find your eyes already on him as you moved. Your hair is stuck to your forehead in a sweaty mess, yet you've never looked more like a goddamn angel than you do right now. With the light flooding through the drapes as your backdrop, your face twisted up just the way it always does when he fucks up into your g-spot, it's a miracle he hasn't already lost it.

You're calling him your puppy again, and he's unashamed of the way he whimpers - though, he'd deny it until his last breath if asked. He was the goddamn Wolverine, not some sniveling dog - though, it always sent a spark of electricity up his spine when you referred to him as such. Especially as you give the leash around his neck a firm tug, making him snap back to attention once more. His eyes are glazed over to all hell and he can barely even fuckin' see anymore. Everything is you.

"Thank you, baby, thank you."

His voice is already broken, and he's acutely aware how it wavers almost desperately - but you love it, if the way your pussy flutters in response is anything to go off of. Always so tight, so wet for him, and it's fuckin' filthy the way you get off on parading him around like your little pet.

But that's what he is, isn't he? An animal, put on this world to please you.

You're bouncing faster still, more purpose, and it's taking everything in him not to thrust up to meet you. But you like control, you like having him wanton beneath you. A little bitch, that's what he is right now. Your property. His dick is throbbing, needy, and he's sure you can feel it - you'd been teasing him for an hour prior. You know his sanity is draining, that's what you're going for. Reminding him that you're the only one that can make him feel like this, you're the only one that can control the fire burning within him.

And you get to decide whether it's snuffed out, or keeps burning.

[noightserum89]

with ease

You just got out of six months of relationship and shitty sex, so you're in the mood for something raw tonight--with that special person you always come back to. Inspired by this song Disclaimer : A PWP (Porn without Plot), MDNI Pls Character is owned by infold. CW// Mention of childbirth, death Might be OOC, If you don’t like it, skip it Please be mindful of what you read in the internet Tags : fingerfucking, public raw sex

The night is kinda young but still hums with possibilities. It’s only 8 pm, and you’ve left your apartment earlier than usual — no pregame, no distractions — just the raw hunger coursing through you. Sylus had called this morning, his voice smooth over the phone.

“Welcome back. I booked a sofa in your favorite club. Come by and have fun. I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while, Sweetie.”

You smile at the memory, hearing his voice has done something to your brain.

Of course, he hadn’t seen you, you have been in a relationship these past six months, the kind that looks good on paper, the kind that your mother approves of. She had called your ex-boyfriend “perfect” — a man with a good background and high social standing — a man who could be paraded through your family’s circle without questions.

But to you? He was just good enough to waste time with. He’s a fucking wimp, he’s clueless with his dick, he’s also too vanilla for you. You had finally pulled the trigger yesterday, you told him bluntly that you find him icky, and you need someone who knows what they’re doing — someone who can take control without being told how.

Life is complicated already, you don’t need the hassle of telling someone what to do when he’s fucking you. Just make it right, and be done with it. Your ex? He was just too…soft.

The second your ex left your apartment, you texted the one person who you needed to see ASAP.

Just landed, dinner?

It’s like a code between you two, one that neither of you bother to explain anymore. You remember he teased you about it one time, “You can just say, ‘landed’, so I don’t feel too hurt when you come looking for a rebound in my arms. It will feel like you have just come back from a long trip, Sweetie.”

“Oh please, you don’t do feelings, Sylus. That heart of yours is incapable of feeling hurt.” You replied, half laughing.

He smiled at you and kissed you, “With you, I feel all sorts of feelings, Sweetie.”

Lies.

The man is a maniac, he has no time to think about feelings, he’s too busy running his criminal empire, too ruthless to let love complicate things, and you know that.

Remember the Godfather? Love has no place at all in that world.

Hence why he can’t be your endgame. Your mother would die from a heart attack if she finds out that her only daughter is messing around with a mafia don.

You’re wearing what can only be described as undergarments — a mere satin slip dress that clings to your skin like a second skin, barely qualifies as a piece of clothing, the fabric so thin it might as well not exist, but that’s the fucking point. The red hue is a deliberate choice you made last minute, a nod to Sylus’s favorite color, and you chose it with a singular mission in mind: to get fucked by him until you can barely walk.

Mind you, it’s been half a year without Sylus in your life.

As you drive through the city, memories of Sylus come crashing back — of him taking you anywhere, everywhere, with a feral ferocity that leaves you breathless with everything you think about it. The city lights blur you, the atmosphere is electric, matching the anticipation that already building between your thighs. Your favorite classical piece is playing from your car audio, a stark contrast to the thoughts racing through your head.

There’s nothing classic about what you’re thinking right now.

You know exactly how you want it, you’ll ask him to fuck you right there in the club, hidden in plain sight. Slow and subtle, you have to suppress your moan, or he has to cover your mouth, you know you prefer the latter. You can already feel your pulse between your thighs, your tits hardening, the cool temperature only gets you hornier and hornier, and it’s oh-so-delicious.

You are finally ending a draught, saying goodbye to six months of bad sex.

The high-rise building where the club is situated comes into view, you drive your way into the valet section, stealing a glance at yourself in the rearview mirror, making sure your flawless smoke eyes and long lashes are ready.

Ready as the testament, as a trophy, of what a night with Sylus would be like. You know he loves seeing you messy, and tonight, you’re so ready to let him ruin you. “I love you out of control, messy just for me.” He had said after a successful yet teary deep throat that made your mascara crumbled.

The elevator ride feels endless, ascending to the top floor takes you a while, yet your body is already yearning for Sylus. When the floor indicator ding and opens, your pulse is ringing in your ears, making you almost roll your eyes. Two ushers meet you the moment you step out. “Let us take you to Mr Sylus.” One of them says, and you reply, “Yes, please.”

The club is pretty packed, old-school hip-hop and RnB are blasting through the speakers, some hard-hitting beats and sensual hum lulling your body to move, and you can’t help but agree, your shoulders, neck, and head, move according to the beat, subtle, not too eager. When you look at the dance floor, people are dancing, body rolls, and intimate movements, they’re getting their high by moving flawlessly and expressing themselves.

You finally reach the final step of stairs where Sylus has reserved a balcony for the two of you. He’s sitting elegantly, or rather dangerously, on a red velvety sofa, that gives you a slight boudoir vibe. Donning an all-black ensemble, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a cigar in the other, he looks like a painting,

“Sylus.” You call his name, and he turns his attention to you.

Sylus is wearing his glasses — your favorite glasses — a frameless glass that barely visible to the normal eyes. To you, he’s like wearing a lingerie covered with an expensive suit. He turns his attention to you, his eyes sharp, his red vivid, something tug within you when he let out a slow smile.

“Sweetie.” Sylus calls out. He gets up from the sofa, and put off both his vices when he finally opens his arms, you are already back to where you belong, safe and nestled in his space.

Your fingers find their own way to latch onto his neck, locking him in your embrace. His hands already back to where they belong, sprawled on the sides of your waist, “You’ve been gone for a while, Sweetie.” He whispers while closing the distance between you and his front.

“Oh..” A little moan, you forget how satisfying it is to you to be manhandled by him. “Sylus…” You look at him and you feel like the world is tipping on its axis. “My dear, Sylus.”

‘He’s everything that I’ve ever wanted…’ You think to yourself. ‘Why did I obey my mother when I can have this man, every fucking day, whenever, wherever?’ You continue to ponder while your thumbs move through his sharp facial feature, feeling the texture of his skin, bridge of his nose, and the curve of his lips.

You know the answer and you have accepted the fact that you and him can never be together long ago, and you will never forgive the world for this. It’s cruel, yet you can’t do anything. He’s a mafia don for god’s sake, you don’t mix yourself in their problem or you will be the one getting gunned down.

“I have missed you so much, my sweet Angel.” He’s towering over you, his face inches away from you, his hot breath is all over you, the musky scent of cigar and whiskey is not your favorite but you can’t help but feel turned on.

Sylus pepper kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your chin, your nose, your forehead, the smallest of kisses, yet it makes you hot and bothered.

“Sylus…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I can’t wait any longer, please.”

“I can’t say no when you beg like that, Sweetie, I’m not a monster…”

“Pleaase, Sylus…I need your cock in me…”

“Good, good girl…”

Sylus pushes you up against the concrete balcony that covers half of your body. You can feel the vibration of the bass from the music downstairs through your stomach, you have a bird’s eye view on the partygoers downstairs, and you think, ‘Nobody knows that I’m going to get railed so good.’ The idea of doing it in open space, with the most dangerous man in the city has successfully create a wet reaction down your string.

His hands move on your body seamlessly, gliding through smoothly, taking both of your hands to the back, arching your back in the process, while he pushes his front to your back, letting you know that he’s already hard and demands to be satisfied.

“Such a bad girl,” Sylus whispers against your ear from behind, “Wearing this poor excuse of a dress…” his hands now reaching the hem of your dress, hiking it up until one of your thigh is exposed to the cool night’s air, “Coming here and wanting to get fucked in front of everyone..”

His finger is now playing with your string, caressing your ass so sensually that you can’t help but moan. “Sh….Syl…Sylus.” Your words are broken at his touch, “Please…” Your heart is pounding, skin tingling, calloused fingers touching you roughly, marking your delicate skin as his.

Without warning, Sylus pull your string to the sides, yanks your dress, bunching it around your waist, and pushes his hand between your thighs, feeling your wetness, how ready you are for him. His fingers slip through your wetness, making intimate contact with your folds.

“Ah…Sylus…” That’s all you manage to let out, needy whimper and uncontrollable moan.

“Tell me..” He growls, “How much do you want me?”

You don’t have to think, “So much…please…more than anything.” You are desperate to be filled by him. “I…I can’t wait anymore, Sylus…”

“Such a good girl…” Sylus pulls back and unbuckle himself, letting his cock free. “Feel this. Feel my desperation for you, Sweetie.” He rubs his hard-as-rock cock on your pussy, making repeated motions up and down, from your clit to your entrance. “I haven’t even fuck you yet and it already feels so…fucking…good…” Sylus whispers in your ear, his other hand cupping your hard peaks behind the balcony, overstimulating you.

“Sshhhh….Sylus…oh…”

“So so good…”

“Mhhyeahh…”

“Please I need you…put it in..”

You can’t think, no coherent thoughts forming in your head other than Sylus filling you in with his big cock and cum.

“I’ll ruin you, Sweetie.” His guttural moan when he enters you with ease, “Oh…” taking you apart, making your pussy pulsates even more. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, you wiggle your hips a little, accepting the thick cock you have missed so much, his hands steadying you, letting you know that you’re not going anywhere.

Sylus starts to push again, a broken moan escapes your lips as he fills you completely, your body stretched tight around him, and when you starts to move, his groan is getting wilder.

“Fuck…” he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “You’re so tight… it’s like you were made for me.”

You whimper, trying to move, needing more of him, but he holds you steady, controlling the pace. He begins to thrust into you, slow at first, but with each stroke, he drives deeper, with more pressure applied, hitting just the right spot, making you gasp and cling to him for dear life.

The sounds of the club fade into the background as the world narrows to just the two of you — the heat, the rhythm of your bodies moving together, the way he takes you like no one else ever has.

Your moans grow louder, mingling with his grunts of pleasure as he fucks you relentlessly, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. His hand slides down to your thigh, trying to coax your orgasm faster by playing with your clitoris,

“Sylus…” you cry out, barely able to form coherent words. “I’m going to — “

“Come for me,” he orders, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread as he pounds into you harder, faster. “I want to feel you come.”

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you clench around him, your nails digging into his arms that hold you. Eyes rolled so hard you can even see stars, and when you're able to open your eyes again, you can feel your tears coming down your face, your orgasm so good that it makes you cry.

He groans, his hips slamming into yours, deliciously slow, as he chases his own release, pushing you both to the edge. With one final thrust, he stills, buried deep inside you, his body tensing as he comes, filling you with his cum. You collapse against the balcony, and he is against you, you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat.

For a moment, the world stands still, just the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant noises of the club beneath you.

Then, slowly, he pulls out, setting you back on your feet, though your legs are shaky from the intensity of what just happened. Sylus smiles down at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you softly, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before.

You smile weakly, still catching your breath, your body tingling in the afterglow.

“Messy just for you,” you whisper, echoing his earlier words.

Sylus chuckles, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. “I wanna see you crying on my cock, Sweetie”

“Take me home then, Sylus.”

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨

QZ! Joel x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Kofi

A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)

Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n

Word Count: 6.1k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week. 

   It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep. 

   They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it. 

   The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you. 

   You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you. 

   You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides. 

   “Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips. 

   You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”

   “Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”

   “No, I…”

   “Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones. 

   “Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip. 

   “I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks. 

   Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless. 

   “Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek. 

   “No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”

   Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall. 

   You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.

   “Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.

   You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now. 

   The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”

   He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses. 

   The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers. 

   “Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes. 

   He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”

   The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”

   He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”

   “You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows. 

   Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw. 

   Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay. 

   He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.

   “You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you. 

   “Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest. 

   He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.

   Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area. 

   “Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.

   He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes. 

   You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”

   You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now. 

   You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor. 

   “I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”

   He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans. 

   You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”

   “Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm. 

   You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter. 

   “Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment. 

   He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough. 

   You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway. 

   You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.  

   He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire. 

   He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours. 

   You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair. 

   “This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still. 

   You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue. 

   From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare. 

   You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through. 

   After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

   You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.

   “What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will. 

   “Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”

   He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you. 

   You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”

   He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”

   Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”

   He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from. 

   “California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple. 

   “You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face. 

   “Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…

   You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name. 

   You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”

   Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing. 

   “Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue. 

   “That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy. 

   “You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.

   He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…

   Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs. 

   “Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision. 

   “Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way. 

   Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table. 

   “Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”

   “It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way. 

   “That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs. 

   “He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”

   Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”

   Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”

   “Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair. 

   “Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”

   You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”

   “I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel. 

   “You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”

   “Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans. 

   “Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.

   You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger. 

   “She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words. 

   “Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles. 

   You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater. 

   “Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”

   “Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.

   He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”

   “So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously. 

   “More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is. 

   “Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh. 

   “Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin. 

   He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin. 

   You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine. 

   “Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek. 

   “Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours. 

   “Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not. 

   He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”

   “Here?” 

   “Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation. 

   “Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.

   “It’s complicated,” he grumbles. 

   “What’s so complicated?”

   “He’s halfway across the country.”

   “So?” you say mockingly. 

   “So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”

   “We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor. 

   “Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes. 

   “That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking. 

   “Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat. 

   He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead. 

   “Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read. 

   The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

   He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”

   You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table. 

   You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time. 

   “Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.

   “Yeah, okay,” you say quietly. 

   “Where are you stayin’ at?”

   “I’m in building four.”

   “Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth. 

   “Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours. 

   He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”

   “It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours. 

   “I owe you.”

   He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”

   Oh. 

   His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”

   He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier. 

   The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety. 

   You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.

   He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle. 

   You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”

   He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”

   You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”

   You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”

   “Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand. 

   “Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it. 

   “Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it. 

   “Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.

   He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.

   You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”

   “I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets. 

   “Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair. 

   “Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”

   “What about you?” 

   He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.

   His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds. 

   He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment. 

   “Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.

   He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”

   “Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation. 

   “Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes. 

   You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes. 

   Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked. 

Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565

@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - Wildest Dreams

Summary - In a fiery and complicated romance, she is caught between passion and betrayal with Daemon, whose love is both intoxicating and elusive. As their fiery connection burns, she faces a harsh reality forcing her to confront what she's lost and what could have been.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!), strong language

Word count - 2458

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

I said, no one has to know what we do is hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room and his voice is a familiar sound nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now.

"Let's go," Daemon said, his voice low and commanding as he gently tugged me behind him, adjusting the saddle on Caraxes. 

The dragon's dark, leathery wings rippled in the twilight, his massive form a shadow against the fading sky. I wrapped my arms around Daemon's waist, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse beneath my fingertips. 

The air was thick with an electric sense of adventure, and I couldn't help but be swept away by it.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice a soft whisper of curiosity, my eyes glinting with the anticipation of the unknown.

"Somewhere far away," he murmured, his words a breath against the wind, and a laugh bubbled from my lips. I was captivated by the magic of the moment—the fire-lit sky casting its warm glow over us, the world holding its breath as we prepared to chase the fading sun together.

If someone had told the younger me that I'd find myself perched atop a dragon—no less, the rogue prince's dragon, with his presence so intoxicating, so wild—guiding us through the untamed skies, I would have laughed in disbelief. 

But here we were, daring to chase the sunset, to embrace whatever strange and unexpected adventure love had woven into our lives.

Days passed, the magic of those first moments fading into the mundane routine of a life tangled with secrets and unspoken desires. 

And yet, with each passing day, a frustration began to fester inside me, simmering just beneath the surface.

"I don't understand," I said one night, my voice thick with both anger and hurt as I rose from his bed, clutching the sheet tightly to my chest, my heart pounding in the quiet space between us. 

"You'll fuck me, parade me around your gold cloaks, but you won't marry me. Why?"

Daemon sighed deeply, the weight of my words settling between us. He sat up slowly, his violet eyes meeting mine with an intensity that always disarmed me. 

His gaze, like a force of nature, pulled me in, even when I was determined to hold my ground.

"You don't understand," he began, his voice rough with unspoken frustration. "I can't... not yet." 

His eyes softened, as though there were a depth to his words that he wasn't ready to share, a quiet plea that lingered unspoken in the space between us.

I stood there, frozen, as his gaze held mine, trying to decipher the walls he had built around himself. But just as I was about to respond, he spoke again, his voice coaxing and warm.

"Come back to bed," he said, the words wrapped in a tenderness I wasn't sure he even knew he had. "It's cold without you."

I shook my head firmly, an instinctive refusal on my lips, but his smile—so roguish, so impossible to resist—was already pulling me in, just as it always did.

"Then I guess I'll have to make you," he said, his tone teasing yet filled with an undercurrent of determination. 

In one swift motion, he reached for me, pulling me back toward him with effortless strength, and I let out a surprised laugh—a sharp, startled sound that echoed through the room.

"Daemon," I laughed, a playful scold as I swatted at his bare chest.

He looked down at me with that knowing smile, a glimmer of something dangerously playful in his eyes. "What is it, love?" His voice was soft as if the world had narrowed to just the two of us.

I sighed, caught between the depths of the emotions that swirled between us—love, frustration, longing, and something deeper still. 

We had fallen into a pattern, a dance of unspoken desires and untold truths. 

Every time things grew serious, his charm would weave its magic around me, and I—helpless, despite my best efforts—would find myself yielding to it. 

My resolve, no matter how strong, would always falter, and he would lead the way, dictating the course of our tangled, complicated relationship.

It was a familiar game, one that I both resented and longed for. 

And in the quiet moments that followed, as I let myself melt against him once more, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever truly understand him, or if I was destined to be forever caught in the web of his captivating contradictions.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Daemon," I began, my voice low but clear, each word weighted with finality. "I am to be wedded." 

I watched the effect of my confession play out across his face—the flicker of his smile fading, replaced by a heavy stillness that settled between us like an unwelcome guest. 

The air, thick with tension and the unsaid, seemed to press around us, making it hard to breathe.

"We can't do this anymore," I continued, my hand moving vaguely between us, a helpless gesture that felt woefully inadequate for the enormity of what lay between us. 

What we were—what we had been—was tangled and raw, and I could see in the darkening of his eyes that he understood.

"Why?" he asked, the single word heavy with a mix of confusion and desperation. His brows knit together, and I could see the vulnerability he so rarely let surface. 

It broke something in me, but I forced myself to hold his gaze, to keep from crumbling under the weight of his plea.

"What do you mean, why?" I responded, my voice brittle but firm. "I'm of age, and I can't put it off any longer." 

The practicality of the situation stood like an unyielding wall between us, cold and unrelenting. I took a steadying breath, knowing the next words would cut deeply. 

"Besides, you won't marry me, so someone has to."

The words were a challenge, daring him to face the truth we'd danced around for so long. His jaw clenched, and for a fleeting second, he looked at me as though he might fight—might offer something other than the silence we'd grown accustomed to. 

But then, his gaze dropped to the floor, and I thought that might be the end.

It wasn't.

With a sudden, consuming need, he closed the distance between us, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for thought. 

I resisted for a heartbeat, perhaps two, before surrendering to the tidal wave of feeling crashing over me. His lips were insistent, fierce, as though trying to memorize every touch, every breath.

The kiss deepened, each movement speaking of unspoken words and unresolved longing. 

Before I knew it, clothing was stripped away, forgotten and scattered across the room, as our bodies pressed together. 

Skin against skin, we moved with a desperate urgency, trying to stave off the inevitability that loomed just beyond the heat of the moment.

"We shouldn't," I whispered as his lips trailed down my neck, pausing as though savouring each inch of skin beneath them. 

My hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling and pulling him closer, reluctant to let go. 

His mouth, warm and familiar, hovered over my collarbone, and for a breathless moment, everything else ceased to exist.

"One last time," I whispered, meeting his eyes. There was a brief flicker of hesitation, a fleeting acknowledgement of what this meant. 

Then, he nodded, and his lips found mine again, the kiss softer this time, tinged with a bittersweet finality. 

As he settled over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, I felt the world blur around us, leaving only him—the warmth of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, the way he moved with a mixture of reverence and desperation.

He guided me gently to the bed, his hands on my waist, holding me in that precise way he knew I loved—an intimate familiarity that both comforted and broke me.

He entered me slowly, his movements careful, as if savouring every second. 

My breath caught, and I arched against him, feeling the exquisite stretch and fullness that sent a wave of pleasure coursing through me. He set a languid rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, as though trying to imprint himself on every part of me. 

Our bodies moved together, a perfect, fluid connection that left no space between us.

I wrapped my legs around him, urging him closer, deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. His lips found mine again, the kiss slow and searing, our breaths mingling in the space between. 

I moaned softly as he shifted, angling himself in a way that sent a bolt of pleasure straight through me. 

He knew my body as well as his own, every touch calculated to bring me higher, every movement a reminder of the intimacy we shared.

"Right there," I gasped my voice a plea as I clutched at his shoulders. 

He obeyed his pace quickening, hips snapping against mine with a precision that sent sparks of pleasure racing along my skin. 

I met him thrust for thrust, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me until it felt like I might shatter beneath the pressure.

His name fell from my lips like a prayer, and I felt his grip tighten, his own breaths ragged as he moved faster, harder, driving us both closer to the edge. 

I clung to him, nails digging into his back, needing him, wanting him. The pleasure built, an unstoppable wave that threatened to consume me, until finally, it crashed over me. 

I cried out, the release blinding and all-consuming, tears spilling down my cheeks as I trembled in his arms.

He followed moments later, his body tensing as he buried himself in me one last time. 

For a moment, we stayed entwined, our breaths mingling, our bodies slick with sweat. Reality crept back in too quickly, leaving a cold, aching emptiness in its wake.

I slipped away from him, feeling the weight of what we'd done settle heavy in my chest. 

Silently, I dressed, each motion deliberate, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He lay there, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was painfully steady. 

It had to be the end. There was no going back now.

I turned away, knowing that what we'd had—what we'd always wanted—was too fragile to last. Some moments are too perfect, too intense, to ever survive the harshness of reality. 

This was one of them, and I had to let it go.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Daemon stood in the shadows, a silent witness to the moment he had feared but never dared to confront. 

Regret coursed through every fibre of his being, a relentless ache that gnawed at him, but he was helpless to change what was already in motion. 

The man who had defied kings and danced with danger now stood powerless, a spectator to the finality of his own making.

His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching as he fought to suppress the storm within him. 

He watched, unblinking, as I pressed a lingering kiss to the cheek of my groom—a nobleman from somewhere in the Vale, whose smile was all too bright and whose hands now rested possessively on mine. 

The sight was a dagger to Daemon's chest, twisting with each second that passed. 

He had seen me touch him, the way my fingers curled around my new husband's arm, and every movement was a cruel reminder of what had been lost. 

What he had pushed away.

Daemon's eyes darkened, shadows flickering like embers behind them. He took a breath that felt like fire in his lungs, resisting the urge to step forward, to close the distance and rip me from this farce of a union. 

But even he, the infamous rogue prince, knew that this was a battle already lost. 

I was now beyond his reach—no longer the forbidden temptation he could hold close and push away as he pleased. The weight of that realization was heavier than any sword he had wielded.

I turned my head briefly as if sensing the heat of his gaze. For the barest of moments, our eyes met across the crowd. 

Time seemed to freeze, and the air between us crackled with everything unsaid—pain, longing, regret. 

My lips curved in a soft, almost imperceptible smile tinged with sadness, a farewell that no words could capture. His heart clenched painfully, and the ache of it stole his breath. 

This was it. The end.

Daemon's fingers curled into fists at his sides. How many times had he chosen pride over love? How many chances had he let slip through his fingers, confident that there would always be another? 

But there were no more chances now. The weight of his choices crushed him, and for once, there was no escape, no reckless act of defiance that could undo what had been done.

He shifted his gaze, unable to bear the sight of my hand clasped so easily in another's. 

It was easier to look away than to feel the burn of his own failure—the knowledge that he had no one to blame but himself. 

Memories surfaced, unbidden and cruel, playing like ghostly echoes in his mind. 

The way my laughter had filled the quiet spaces between us, the warmth of my touch, the passion and fire that had always burned too hot, too close to destruction. 

It was all gone now, locked away with me in a marriage that would keep him at bay.

For once, Daemon Targaryen had no move to make, no words to wield as weapons, no promises to offer that could bind me to him. 

He was left only with the bitter taste of regret and the ghosts of what could have been. 

I was gone—truly, irrevocably gone—and he could do nothing but carry the weight of lingering memories, seared into the depths of his mind. 

They would haunt him in every quiet moment, reminders of a woman who had once been his, and of the choices that had led him to this hollow emptiness.

As the ceremony continued, a swell of music rising to mark a new beginning I would embark on without him, Daemon turned and walked away. 

The shadows welcomed him back, cloaking the pain etched into every line of his face. There would be no outbursts, no desperate pleas. 

Just a man who had lost everything that mattered—and knew that he had only himself to blame.

He's so tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad, but he does it so well. I can see the end as it begins, my one condition is, say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe, red lips and rosy cheeks. 

Say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.

A/n - I wanted to either write with this song or 'Style' and I kinda love how this turned out!

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 16

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: You final discover where the smell of apple pie is coming from.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of witchcraft, past trauma.

You gasped as you took in the alpha. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your omega began to take over, looking him up and down as she looked to the parts that were to your likening.

Broad shoulders.

All the better for climbing your omega almost purred in your head.

Then his soft lips, surrounded by a well maintained beard.

Think of the beard burn.

Shut up, the witch in you replied.

Your eyes met again, his bright blue ones wide, softening as he took you in. His warm apple pie scent wafted around your nose. It was delicious, mouthwatering and intoxicating all at the same time.

“Omega.” He said, almost sounding out of breath as he reached out to you. Your lack of response caused him to take a step towards you. You panicked and took a step backwards.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured you as he took another step closer.

You took another step backwards and the witch and white wolf in you took over.

“Don’t. Don’t come any closer.” You replied, raising your hand and crackling it with electricity as a show of force.

“Omega please.” He responded, his deep voice soft, eyes full of emotion. “I think you might be mine. I think you might be my second chance.”

You paused. Your omega, and your white wolf fought inside your head.

He wants us. He’s like us. We’re his second chance too!!!

He won’t, not when he knows. Not when he sees us. We should run away again. We’ll just get hurt.

No, he’s not like him.

Shut up.

They went back and forth. Tears filled your eyes and a lump formed in your throat. The house shook lightly and the Stark pad flickered.

“Hey, it’s ok, I won’t hurt you Omega I promise.”

The sound of your presentation falling from his lips again caused your wolf to respond.

“Stop calling me that.” You growled.

The alpha looked startled by your response.

“I’m sorry, please I didn’t mean to overstep but I think you’re mine sweetheart.”

You shook your head as tears rolled down your face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You replied.

“Of course it does.”

“No! It doesn’t!!” You sobbed. He went to take another step and your witch took over this time, raising both your hands and flicking static electricity between the two. “Don’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me sweetheart. I trust you.”

A flurry of emotions and memories ran through you as your presentations fought against each other. Omega, white wolf and witch, all battling against each other to make a decision. Then one memory broke through the others. One that haunted you and made you what you were.

Your rejection.

The pain. The sickness. The looks of pity that followed. And him. The one that rejected you. How he looked at you with disgust when he discovered how much your childhood had damaged you, both inside and out. How he’d stood there in front of your pack alpha and friends and rejected you. How weeks later he’d paraded around with his new mate. Gifted to him by the goddesses. Your thoughts swing to Jacob, your old pack alpha and what followed. Then to Frank and Billy. None of them ever wanted you. Not truly.

Steve’s nose burnt with the smell of panic and rejection coming from your scent. The sour strawberries he’d smelt weeks before now smelt rotten. Steve knew the feeling of rejection all too well and he desperately wanted to comfort you.

A feeling of overwhelm swept through you as you argued with yourself. A weight heavy on your chest as it grew tighter. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

You felt yourself go woozy.

“Omega, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe for me sweetheart.”

Your presentation, pet names and his soft voice caused another flurry of confusion and not knowing what to do.

Let him take care of us.

No, he won’t want us. Nobody ever does.

Steve's scent began to feel warm and calming around you and you realised he was purposely pushing his scent out to relax you. He took a chance and stepped towards you, his arms outstretched.

“Honey.”

You let him in and it’ll all be taken away. It’s always taken away over and over again. Nobody ever wants us. What will you say when he sees you? Sees your scars and how damaged you are?

Steve took another step forward and attempted to sweep you into his arms to comfort you but your wolf and witch were quicker. Your wolf growled deep in your chest and you lifted the alpha with your powers throwing him through the still open door and down the steps. He fell in a heap on the floor but stood quickly.

“Omega please.”

You reacted quickly throwing up a shield around the cottage, slamming the door shut with your powers and locking it. The panic grew stronger and spots flashed across your eyes before everything went dark.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @slut4rogers @jvanilly

[hooked-on-elvis]

JUNE JUANICO DESCRIBING HOW IT FELT TO BE KISSED BY ELVIS IN 1955/1956

They talked in the car for a while, and then he wanted to go for a walk. He took her hand, and there was just enough moonlight that she could watch for the cracks in the pier’s old boards so her high heels wouldn’t get stuck. Suddenly, he stopped. He turned her around so he was behind her and slipped his hands around her waist and kissed her neck. She felt a shock of electricity, and squirmed, but he promised he wouldn’t hurt her. He kissed her tenderly, first her forehead, and each eye, then her nose, and finally her lips. She kissed him back in a way that had a future in it. "Where did you learn to kiss?" he asked, surprised at her passion. "I was just getting ready to ask you the same thing!" she said, and she still remembers what it was like: "Soft, full lips. Nothing too sloppy. Oh! It was just marvelous, a little pecking here and there, a nibble, and then a serious bite. "It started small, and then got bigger, and then went little again before ending up with a lot of eye contact."

Excerpt from book "Baby, Let's Play House: Elvis Presley and the Women Who Loved Him" by Alanna Nash (2010). Chapter 7: "Biloxi Bliss"

[1] Elvis in 1955 (age 20) photographed in Memphis, TN, at William Speer's studio; [2] Elvis Presley (age 21) photographed in a room on the sixth floor of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis, TN, last week of July 1956, by journalist Lloyd Shearer, on assignment for Parade magazine.

[tparker48]

Request for awesomebqg

stadium was vibrant as its  lights shined on the field. Players scattered from their huddles to their assigned positions, waiting for the chance to chase after the checkered ball across the yard as the opposing side derailed their assault.  Declan approached from the left side of the offensive team, eyeing the soccer ball as it zigged and zagged between players’ legs. Hot on the heels of one of the flanks, he blitzed between two players as he pounced on the ball, taking it from the opposing team’s clutches as he kicked it into the net. 

The crowd roared in a fierce beat, sending a buzz of electricity through his body as he raised an arm. "Please please, It was only a goal. No please I..no no, I do.”

His feet swept from under him as was placed on a pedestal of his team’s shoulders, ushering him around as if he were a royal in a place. The sound of cheers roaring in the air, the weight of his team on his back, it was moments like these that made him enjoy the true feel of soccer

After minutes of parading the middle field,  the team merged into one as they entered  the narrow pathway between the bleachers. Before long, the cemented floor kissed beneath his cleats, the soft pats and shakes fading from his teammates fading as the team dispersed into their own section of the locker rooms. Declan made his way down the middle path, stopping at a locker on the end of the path as he unlatched his lock.

He wiped a towel along his drenched neck. "Another game, another victory." he wiped down his back, losing himself in the chatter of passing members as they made their way to their lockers.

But a distant voice began to make itself known, tearing through the vocal flow like an anti chord as it reached his ears. He barely had the chance to turn before a thin mass tackled him into the locker, sending them both tumbling to the floor. He squirmed beneath its weight, catching a glimpse of a lean man resting on his shoulders blades.

"For the love of-..who puts a jockstrap in the middle of the floor?" They pressed into Declan's shoulder, causing him to release a stern grunt. "Hm? Oh shit, how'd you get down there?"

"I was on my feet, until someone knocked me over."

"Ah..was wondering what where that arm pit smell was coming from. like opening a fresh bag of chips." the man sniffed the air, his fingers sliding beneath Declan's arms. "Name's Roy, I'm sort of...new around."

How formal. He eyed the man as his fingers slid out from his pits, easing to his feet. "Declan, I'm-"

"Declan?! Like, the Declan Rice?!"

“Is.. there a problem?”

“None at all, I’m your number one fan!” Roy gasped, shaking his hand vigorously. “ Oh man, it's a pleasure to meet a legend in person!!"

Declan arms jerked with the man’s force, as if it were about to pop out of its very socket. "The pleasure’s..Mine!!"

"Oh no, it’s all mine! It’s not everyday you get to see your celebrities. Surprised I didn’t see..Ah God I’m such a dunce! I tackled into Declan Rice!" Roy crumbled to his knees, clutching Declan's palm in a choke hold as if he were a beggar. “I am so sorry! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me!”

"It's fine, it's fine! It's no big deal."

"Really?" Roy asked, sighing to himself. "Thank goodness. I don't know what I'd do if I hurt you before the project."

"Er..project?" Declan asked.

"Nah, classic Roy, I forgot to tell that part." He palmed himself. "I meant to ask you if you could help me with a filming shot I'm working on. Come be the first and see the true legends at work on the fields. They'll show you why they put the 'So' in soccer."

"That sounds..like a documentary!"

"Yeah I'm still working on the trademark." Roy admitted. "But it's missing the most important thing, a sponsor! You could be that sponsor to kick it off!"

Ah, another sponsor asking for a contract. "Sorry but I don't do advertisements for free, if you wanna make a business offer, you can talk with my manager." He dusted flakes of dandruff from his shorts, reaching for his clothes folded in the locker.

"Ah, you're right. It wouldn't be right to have you help out my project without compensation." Roy dug his fingers through  his side pocket, drawing out a phone. He tapped at the screen for a moment, pulling up a website with a graph flowing toward the upper right corner of the screen. "This is the following I have on the project, at least for the past week."

Declan eyed the lining of the graph, numbers adding to the digits along the corner of the screen. "Those are all viewers?"

"Uh huh," Roy lowered his phone back into his pocket. "And they could all be following you. Just imagine, with your support behind my project, we could make it soar through the ratings. New deals, new sponsorships, and most importantly, more exposure!"

Declan blinked as Roy searched his phone, coiling a finger along his chin. More exposure could be effective, it could boost his rating,no, it could boost his very career if he went up for it. But would the team allow that? Would the coach?

He turned towards the opening of the hallway for the coach to hear his insight, but stopped in his tracks. Why should he consult the team like this, they'd suck up all of the exposure and leave him with the crumbs. He couldn't live with himself if he fumbled that big of an opportunity. No, it opened up to him first, and to him, he will ensure that it will remain to him alone.

"So?" Roy said, his cheery tone seething in his voice. "We got a deal?"

Declan shuttered at the chance this would be, reminiscing over the future achievement that spun around his mind. He turned towards Roy, nodding at the question. "It's a deal. so, where's-"

"Sweet! Trust me, you won't regret it!"

 Palms clutched  his shoulders as Roy ushered the two of them down the pathway, cutting the corner to the other side of the locker room. The deeper they went, the amount of players withered down as the once filled corridors became empty. They reach the end of the exit of the locker room before Roy stopped in his tracks, patting frantically at his pockets.

"Oh damn it, I forgot my water bottle, I must've dropped it. but where did..Oh!" He moved towards one of the side doors of the pathway, slinking past the frame as he disappeared into the darkness. "Oh! here it is! it's under this object!"

"Well, best get it before it gets lost again."

Shuffling lingered in the dark abyss, metal rattling together as Roy grunted. "I would..But it seems to be stuck on something in here." Roy said. "This is embarrassing to ask, but can you give me a hand?"

"For a bottle?"

"Please? It’s stuck tight."

This is starting to seem like a hassle rather than an opportunity. "Fine, I'm coming.”

He opened the door as wind dispersed into the locker, darkness staring back from its mouth. He squinted to the metal walls a few feet away, their handles the only thing barely visible, but no Roy.He placed a rock against the corner of the door as he ventured deeper, holding a hand out to guide as it brushed against the smooth metal pipes.

 "Alright, Im in.” Declan said. “Where are you?"

"Just a little further, Just in the next room."

The next room? How deep did he go just for a bottle? The cold walls met the bottom of his palm as its metallic texture morphed into cement. The solid hum of a heater filling the air  like a sonar.

"Okay, now what? I don't see you any-" His words were cut off as a sharp pain sunk into the side of his neck. It spread to the rest of his body as it lurched to the hardened floor, the sounds of steps echoing behind him as the tip of shoes prodded against his arm.

"I can't believe that worked, I guess you really can lure a soccer player."

"Roy?..what are.."

"I wouldn't try to talk too much Declan, you’ll get a headache that way. " Roy replied, a needle sensation searing his neck. "Why don't you go ahead and take a nice long nap."

Declan gritted as he slumped to his feet, Roy backpedaling as the soccer player reached a palm outward. The stinging sensation from the injection began to spread as it climbed his neck, his ears starting to ring as his vision grew hazy. Soon hisnwhole body began to throb, and he fell to the floor, darkness swallowing him as everything faded to black.

------------------------

A deep hum rang in Reclan's ears, a blistering pain throbbing through his head as it laid against a plastic floor. "What happened? Where..am I?"

Through his hazed vision, he sat up as he scanned the area. He found himself inside of a plastic cage on a desk, a single fan looming above. Its size dwarfed his, looming overhead like a giant windmill up as its cold gusts blew against the translucent wall.

But it wasn't just the fan that was big, the whole room morphed before his eyes, stretching to far horizon like a great plain as light danced a twirled from the windows

“Roy..that bastard, what the hell kind of drug did he put in me? It’s making me hallucinate."

"On the contrary," A second voiced said, streaking through the air like thunder. "This is no hallucination."

The ground shook as the bottle wobbled beneath him, the plastic bottle darkened by a shadow as an unbuttoned shirt swaying into view. Standing before him was Roy, looming overhead like a giant gazing upon an ant hill. 

"Glad to see you’re finally woken up,"  Roy added. "and here I thought you'd sleep through the best part."

"Roy? What is the meaning of this? What did you do?!"

"Nothing really!" He replied, picking up the bottle between his fingers. "Just made you a little more manageable is all."

Declan tumbled as he raced to regain his balance, Roy’s palm dwindling along the curvatures of the bottle. With a simple tilt, gravity shifted as the plastic cap slammed against his back, lurching the other way as he rolled back to the center.

Roy giggled as he aligned the bottle with his eyes. "Gotta say I like this version of you, pal. like having a little ship in a bottle."

Declan floundered as the bottle see-sawed between his palms, spreading his arms and legs to keep him from falling. "You call this supporting your heroes?!"

"Watcha mean?"

"Aren't you supposed to be a number one fan? You told me you wanted help with a project, to help bring light to soccer!"

"Oooh that?" Roy said, shrugging his shoulders. "That was just something to get you to follow through."

Declan's heart tightened at the man's words. "You..were lying?"

"You got me! I have to admit I did have second thoughts about it." He tossed the palm from palm to palm as if it were a hacky sack. "I thought I'd give a sob story of some charity bullshit, but I knew you'd see right through that." Declan pin balled from wall to wall, his body pulsing upon each impact. Before long, He fell to the bottom of the bottle, just as Roy's beaming smile returned. 

"Liar!" Declan hurled his fist into the wall, its blow absorbed into its plastic. "When I get out of this you'll be dead meat!"

"Such fiery spirit, guess it's true when they say soccer player’s are known for their resilience." Roy chuckled. "I may have told a little fib about the whole fan thing, but I wasn't lying about having you for a project."

The bottle spun toward the desk, sending a blistering pain radiating Declan's rear. Roy strolled the room to his backpack along one of the wooden chairs against the wall, unzipping the middle as he pulled a  camera and a pair of metal legs. setting them up before placing them near a torn projector along the wall.

Roy's spun backpack against the side of the desk, sending the bottle in a tailspin as Declan held his stomach. "Careful where you swing that thing!" 

"Oh ho, that's the least of your worries pal." he heard Roy say, sensing anticipation in his voice. He opened one of the side pockets pulling out a clear vile as he brought to his eye level.

Declan eyed the small bottle as it sloshed between its fingers. "What..what is that?"

"Lube of course! And a nice portion to get you nice and slick for your long trip." He held the bottle close to his waist, his crotch cushioning against the glass like a sponge. "Afterall, I can't just squeeze just anything in my balls."

Declan's heart skipped a beat. "Your...balls?!"

"Yup yup, you're going down the good old slide of life." Roy said, a giggle seething from his lips. 

He untwisted both bottles before  lowering his cage to the table, hovering the bottle of lube overhead as its clear liquid lurched to the opening. Its lukewarm substance poured from the bottle like a waterfall, coating his feet in a puddle as it filled the bottle. Declan pounded against the plastic, tackling its walls in hopes to knock it over the edge.

Skin skidded against the wall as Roy laid his phallus against, a single throb forcing the bottle back. "Ah ah ah, can't let you do that, Decy."

The waterfall tilted as it showered Declan, coating him head to toe as the puddle climbed to his waist. When the last drop fell, the bottle was cast away, the cap sealing.  Roy picked up the container as he tilted it sideways, see-sawing it on its axis. It was as if Declan was thrown into a washer machine, each tilt sending a tide of lube as he slipped and glided across the walls.

 Roy giggled at Declan's floundering like a child with a ship in a bottle, watching the waves toppled and overwhelmed him. He stirred the bottle for a few more times before he finally let up, Declan splashing against the cap before sloshing to the bottle.

 "There it is, nice and slick. You'll slide right in." He said.

Declan wobbled to his feet, clinging to the wall for support. "The hell is wrong with you! You're treating this like it's some sick game!"

"A game? I'd hardly call this a game. More like..playing with my toys. Yeah, that's it!"

"Whatever the hell you want to call it, it's crazy! You can’t think that this is okay!"

"Aww what, is the big time soccer player trying to talk me out of it." Roy cooed, holding one of his testicles against the glass.  "That's just adorable. Pathetic, but adorable."

Declan grimaced as the clammed skin skidded against the bottle, shielding his gaze with an arm in hope to erase the view. Palms wrapped around the frame as it lifted into Roy’s abdomen, his balls still plastered to the glass as their round spheres undulated along his thigh. He sat down in a wooden chair in front of the camera, adjusting the lens until he filled the projector on the screen.

Roy untwisted the cap, flicking it to the floor. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Gravity lurched as the lube fell out of the opening, dragging Declan with its current as he fell from the plastic. He bounced off the pudgy shaft, just as a thumb pressured into his foot. Roy stirred the remaining lube over his shaft, drizzling over his glans as if he were pouring syrup on flapjacks before he discarded it.

He choked his girth and lathered the substance into his skin. "Mmm, just a little more twist and..There, the rocket is nice and ready." He unlatched his palm from his glistening cock. "Now it just needs its daring astronaut."

Pressure increased as he was hoisted to the air,  smacking against the cock's oily skin as it lathered his torso. He slid higher as Roy's navel rippled into view, undulating as Roy chuckled at his flailing display. Declan struck the fingers holding his foot, but his blow barely caused damage, bouncing off their forms as if he were hitting them with a wet noodle.

"That's it, keep that fire going, my guy." Roy massaged his phallus. "I wanna feel every bit of it when you're in my knockers."

Declan's head hung above the rising shaft, its length flexing to life as it smacked against Roy's abdomen. He  grimaced at the fingers massaging the sides of the cockhead, the slitted orifice stretching and closing as its soggy lips smeared together.

"I'm not going in there, you sick bastard." Declan continued his assault, gritting as a sting crawled along his heel. "Put me down!"

"If you insist." Roy’s hand lowered as it hurtled toward his throbbing shaft. He pinched the corners of the head, and the slit yawned opened.

"No! that what I mean-" His words were snuffed as his head plunged into the mouth of the cock, the orifice sending wet squelches into his ears before clamping around his neck.

"It wasn't? Huh, imagine that." Roy replied, listening to the soccer player's muted protests.

Declan pawed against the sponged flesh, his palms slipping under the loose foreskin as it coiled its juices into his fingers. He felt the fingers climb to his waist, corkscrewing the rest of his body into the gummy orifice.

The fleshy chamber squeezed at his body, muscular ripples battering into his sides like waves as he slithered deeper inside. "Mmm, It's like my body's giving ya a great big hug isn't it?" Roy cooed, "Hope you like it, cause it's only gonna get tighter from here on out."

Declan grice as the orifice climbed over his legs, drooling greedily as they were sucked inside. His feet bobbed against the tip of the head, its spongy form suckling his entire body as if he were a ring pop. With a mere flick from Roy's finger, his feet tilted as they sunk inside, slurping past the clammed lips as they sealed shut.

The world he once knew was replaced by dark pink walls, coated in Roy's salt and musk as creamy fluid lathered the crevices. Pull after pull, he was dragged deeper into the urethra, carried by Peristalsis as the gargantuan cock devoured him whole. 

A lump punched into his gut, a finger trailing on the other side. "Lumpy lumpy nice and jumpy." Roy chuckled. "You certainly aren't gonna like what comes next."

He wheezed as the finger pushed down, hastening his pace through the shriveled walls as cum parted the folds like webs. The bottom of the barrel rushed into view as it quivered, welcoming Declan with a messy kiss before taking him past its ring and into the labyrinth of Roy's insides. 

It clenched as he was deposited into the tender bean in the core of Roy’s body, Flesh snagging along his arms and legs as fluid filling the crevices lathered against him. If he doesn't do something he'll..No, he's not letting himself end up as this bastard's pastime fun. He scaveaged the walls for the hole he came in, Punching every corner he could manage as he pawed against the firm tissue. It was gone, hidden away somewhere in the chamber, but where?

The chamber jostled with his captives' laughter. "Sorry pal, can't have ya trying to walk out on the fun."

"Let me out of here, you piece of-"

"Woah woah, language. Is this how you soccer players treat one of their 'fans' ?"

"That's not the only thing you'll be treated to once when I get out here."

"keep telling yourself that. But looking at how that little lump is all squeezed up in my prostate, I don't really see that happening." Roy said. "Speaking of squeeze, you might wanna hold your breath."

The muscular bean became alive, salted seed oozing from the walls. A fold pushed beneath him as he skyrocketed into a meat pocket, and his head was jammed into a hole no bigger than himself. It yawned over his head, separating the rest of his body as succumbed to the whim of the other chamber. 

Seed belched from the tight tunnel as it spilled into the prostate, a heavy suction pulling him inside. "Its corrosive! It's getting into my mou-"

"Told ya to hold your breath." Roy giggled, his voice fading into the sounds of his body.

The valve around his neck yanked at his body, his shoulders slipping past the small ring as it chewed down to his legs. Its warm texture coiled his toes, ejecting him from the prostate and into the unknown of Roy's body. He dragged through the muscular labyrinth at  snail's pace, looping around steep curve as the walls siphoned tighter.

After almost minutes passed, gravity shifted as plonking arose below, sloshing deeply as if it were underwater. A tight orifice crowned his head as he was expunged from the tube, his body curling against a soft layer of tissue as it spooned him against a round boulder of flesh.

"Welcome to my balls! Your home away from home!" Roy said.

Declan tried to turn his head, gritting at the stinging pain building in his neck. "I can't..move!" 

"Of course you can't goofball, it's not some bubble you can just stand in." Roy fondled his left nut, watching its swollen underbelly throb with its new guest. "Gotta say though, you're a lot tighter than I thought you'd be, almost looks like a tattoo out here."

"Bastard!" Declan gritted, "Your ass is getting the beating of a lifetime when I go get of-"

“Again with the whens? Honestly buddy you’re like a broken record. But I suppose you can only bark up threats when you're swinging between my legs.”

Declan's face soured his words, straining against the soft tissue to lift the meaty ball spooning his back. 

He stopped when an odd sensation resonated from his fingers. He could feel them there, but it was hollow, as if they were phantom limbs. He pulled his arm from underneath a meaty fold, and his eyes widened. His middle finger was drenched in goo, dripping into the fleshy crevices. When it returned, there was nothing in the middle, not even as seed spilled in the middle of his palm. the numbness began to spread to his other fingers, and his heart started to race.

"My hand! What's going on with my hand?!"

"Ooh shit, I forgot to mention another thing." Roy said. "See ‘when’ you do come back out, you'll kinda be well...melted."

"What?!"

"Yeah! crazy right? But don't worry, I'll build you back together good as new. Better than new in fact!"

"You're not putting shit back! And you're not melting me!" The siphoned chamber bucked as Declan thrashed about, causing the bulging nut to throb. "Let me out of here! I..I'm not ending up as some bastard's seed."

Oh, but you are, you just need time to bake.”

The spongy testicle pressed the side of his face, fingers prodding along his back as the chamber jostled vigorously. He lurched against gravity before another soft layer draped over his back,  the sound of a zipper streaking the walls as pressure hugged his sides. Roy's steps boomed as the hollow atmosphere changed, distant whistles and chatter lingering in the distance. Is he really..no, he can;t leave him in here like this..

Declan writhed to free himself from the weight of the testicle, causing Roy to giggle. "Hey, keep it down in there" A deep pound echoed from above. “Don’t want me to bust a nut in front of the crowd now do you? Once you;re melted you ripple and shake all you want in there."

Declan gritted at the man's words, his heart shuttering at the individual word: melted. He looked beneath a fold covering his arms, seed spilling from its corners. He pulled his forearm from underneath, revealing its drenched form. He couldn't feel his hand anymore, its clumpy form slid from his wrist like fresh clay, melting with the rest of the mush as it dispersed to corner of the sac's tubes.

An hour passed as Declan swayed inside Roy’s balls, the numbness traveling through the rest of his arm as it withered away as if it were sugar in water. With each voice he heard pass by, shouted for their attention, to allow him the chance to be seen before it was too late. But his efforts fell on deaf ears as they faded in the distance, adding to his captive entertainment as his cock throb with pleasure.

As time withered farther, Declan became more restless,  punched as hard as he could against the soft wall, but it only absorbed every blow that was dished its way. In his fit of panic, the whistles drew closer as Roy's balls undulated, the sound of a roaring crowd muted but the suffocating walls. 

"Oo, cotton candy! Perfect for the occasion."  Roy said, the chamber to twist and rotate as he moved freely outside.

"Roy! you bastard! Don't treat me like your.." 

the side of his face grew numb, his view blurred as milky ooze seered from his cheek. As its tingly sensation climbed higher, his nose slanted as it slid from his face and into the increasing pool. The walls throbbed as waves rippled the chamber, scooped the loose seed into the center. it climbed to his neck, siphoned the last of the space as his lips danced against the sphincter. 

He soon lost his lips in a wave of cum, the last of his face sinking into the mush. "R..Roy....S..sto.."

-------------------------------

"Buddy....buuddy..." A palm tapped at declan's head. "wakey wakey."

Declan stirred at the call. "W..wha?"

"There you are! You sagged in my sac for the whole game I thought you kicked the bucket."

"Christ it's you..." He groaned at the sound of his captive’s voices. 

"Aww, you still mad about the whole being balled thing, I promised I'd get you out didn't I?"

"That still doesn't make being in there any better." His winced as his head throbbed, his left side still liquified. "God my head hurts. Its feels like my whole spine's a fucking cactus tree."

"Yeah..heh, funny you should say that. When I jacked you out, let's just say I had some hard trajectories."

"Trajectories? What the hell are you-" he tilted his head when a prickled surface nudged the back of his head, wincing at another poked near his cheek. 

He wiggled for the rest of his body, his spine twisting normally, but he couldn’t feel his legs, or even his balls. He looked down as spiked leaves sprouted from his waist, rooting from a pot of soil was stationed along a table.

Declan's eyes grew white. "What the hell happened to my body?!"

"Well it turns out the game was a complete bust so I had to rub one out. Found a good spot behind a tree and went to town." Roy said, scratching nonchalantly at his head. "You were so gunked up, you splattered all over the tree."

"You ejaculated me onto a tree?!"

"Yeah, crazy right!" Roy shrugged. "I was aiming for the grass but hey, I managed to get some of you off the bark." 

"You didn't have the decency to use a fucking cup?! My legs are a freaking plant!" Declan yelled.

He thrashed his head around, causing the pottery to rotate on its sides. It leered to the edge of the table, dirt splashing along papers as he spun out of control. The pot tilted as gravity pulled at Declan's head, but Roy caught its side midway.

"Easy there, can't go trying to knock yourself off."

"You better fix me right this second!"

"I already told you, I could only manage to find most of you. Bet the seed’s already dried up at the field by now."

Already dried? Wait, does that mean that he's stuck like this?! His heart gripped in his chest, his career flashing in his mind. the games, the fans. "No, I'm not remaining stuck like this! There's..There's gotta be a way to reverse it!"

"Reverse? I can't just uncum and bring you back." Roy shook his head. "But look on the bright side, all that soccering stick is all in the past now. But not to worry, your old pal Roy's gonna take care of you." he drawed a camera from his back and aligned it near the edge of the table. Declan eyed him cautiously.

"What? You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you take care of me!"

"I can't? Huh, well shoot I guess I should just let you go. just hop off the table and..oh wait."

"You cocky son of a-" Declan head's bucked against a prickly leaf, cutting his words. "Just let me come to close that ugly mug of yours!"

"Aww, don't be so butt hurt, and smile for the camera!"

[sleeplesssmol]

Reverse1999 Analysis: A deeper dive into Vertin and Sonetto's dynamic.

I was under the assumption the time Vertin gave Sonetto the frog and the Break-away events were relatively close but I was mistaken. Take a look at these avatars. Sorry about the image quality:

This is Vertin and Sonetto in the hallway during the frog event.

This is them during the Parade Ceremony:

These two rarely interacted but are keenly aware of each other's presence for better or worse. Even when Sonetto's confronting her years after the frog event, Vertin is very soft/quiet in those interactions. The usual sass and dry humor we've seen in her is suddenly gone. Also, this is Vertin we're talking about. She's the rulebreaker. She doesn't care about the handbook or the bullies who pick on her. She steps out of line. She asks the questions no one wants to answer. She's used to being berated by teachers but still carries on catching frogs, even if it means getting hurt by the electric fence.

Years must have passed after Vertin had her feelings hurt. Look how fluffy Sonetto became and Vertin started putting her hair up. Idk why I didn't notice this right away but the two had more tension between them than I originally thought. Kids feel things very deeply. Even if you're an adult and your memory is foggy, it's easier to recall the way you felt in those moments than the events themselves. This changes some of the context I see things.

Yet, Sonetto's rejection cut her deeply.

Vertin values Sonetto's opinion above most people's in during their childhood.

On one hand you could say it's because of a crush but on the other hand, maybe she's still hurt from that day in the hallway. Maybe she doesn't know how to handle Sonetto, especially since the top student tends to avoid her unless necessary. Vertin mentions this when Sonetto lends her notes after the tear gas incident. Not to mention her confusion when Sonetto shows up to help her fight Lilya. There's so many things she wants to ask, yet there is not enough time. The two say their goodbyes. Sonetto wants to make sure Vertin won't regret her decision. By leaving, Vertin will be throwing away everything the Foundation gave her. It's symbolic of Vertin the rebel leaving the Foundation's top dog behind.

But the scene invokes sadness rather than triumph. Sonetto was never her enemy. Vertin overcame every moment of hesitation until this point. When the door slowly lowers between them, they watch as it closes. Vertin only leaves once its completely shut.

Despite all this, Vertin never truly left Sonetto behind. Present Vertin remembers Sonetto's quirks and habits from back when they were children (we can see this in the prologue). In Vertin's dreams we see her still wishing to show Sonetto the world. She's living rent free in the Timekeeper's head.

As for Sonetto, I don't think she ever hated Vertin but she was frustrated by her rule breaking. Vertin's already a troublesome student because of her weak arcanum but she exacerbates it by being rebellious. Sonetto won't bite the hand that feeds her. She is grateful for the Foundation's "care".

However, She'll reluctantly come over if Vertin calls, even if she knows Vertin is being a rascal again. She warns Vertin constantly about behaving but we've never seen her snitch. Perhaps she knows what will happen if she does. Vertin will get hurt. She tries to stop her herself because the instructors have no patience for Vertin. She threatens to tell on Vertin before the Parade when she realizes Vertin is up to something. She could have easily reported Vertin before the Parade, but she doesn't. First time seeing this I read it "I've got my eye on you." The second time, I read it as "I don't want you to get hurt." She's trying to deter Vertin from acting out because the Parade Ceremony is huge and Vertin's already spent time in the guardhouse. The instructors are pulling out all stops.

When Sonetto was ordered to fight her friends she was confused and froze up. When the kids were locked in the guardhouse, she tried to bring them food but was turned away. She tries to show kindness while working within the Foundation's parameters but doesn't understand that won't be enough. There is a very loving person and curious person underneath the Foundation's indoctrination. I think Vertin saw glimpses of that in Sonetto but didn't understand why Sonetto couldn't act on them like she did.

Here we have two people who care about each other but can't overcome the differences between each other to make it work.

Although, it makes you wonder, why Sonetto? It could have been any other student with a sense of curiosity.

But its always Sonetto.

And what the hell happened between in the time Vertin became the Timekeeper to make Sonetto's attitude do a 180? Is it because she had more freedom to be herself after becoming an investigator? Did she try to get closer to Vertin after the break away event because she was worried about her? How much contact did she have with Vertin after this because Vertin is treated differently after becoming the Timekeeper.

Update:

A Daily Log in snippet revealed Sonetto used to tutor Vertin often because she was concerned about her bad grades. Vertin still has the orginal notebook Sonetto gave her (Green Lake). It doesn't say exactly when this happened, but I think it's safe to assume it's after the Break-Away event since Sonetto didn't approach Vertin before the days she gave her the notebook. She became closer to Vertin after the break away event. If you look back at the prologue, she slips up and calls the Timekeeper "Vertin" when she's flustered and asking for help (dealing with Regulus) instead of her title. There's an air of familiarity between them if you read between the lines. Vertin is admittedly a bit cold toward her in the opening (tbf she had a secret mission to talk to Regulus that Sonetto totally botched), but we see her open up more as the story goes on (teasing Sonetto in the forest, placing a lot of faith in her, sacrificing herself despite Sonetto being stronger, giving causal compliments, etc.)