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jupiterpilgrim · 1 day ago

Text

Contracts

Mina x Male Reader

word count: 20K

commissioned fic

Six months is a long time to sit with an unanswered question, but it hasn’t felt like that. The days blurred into each other, filled with relentless work and little else. You buried yourself in it. Meetings that stretched until midnight, furious emails fired off at 2 AM, a stream of initiatives you pushed through without second-guessing. It wasn’t just about productivity anymore—it was personal. An escape, a distraction, a weapon you wielded against your own thoughts.

But Mina still lingers, doesn’t she? Her face, her laugh, the way she looked at you that night before you kissed her. The memory clings to the corners of your mind like a ghost. She disappeared without a trace. No goodbye, no explanation. You’d gone to her apartment a few days after her phone went silent, desperate for answers. You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought it through—you just needed to see her, to ask why. But it was too late.

You don’t know what you did wrong. Or if you even did anything wrong at all. You go over every moment you spent with her, from the first time you saw her to the last time she smiled at you, trying to piece together the reason she vanished. But all you’re left with is the memory of her—the mystery, the pink collar, the way she kissed you like she meant it.

You met her on one of the worst nights of your life.

It was the same day the HR audit came crashing down on you and Joy, threatening to turn your office affair into a scandal. You were careful, you always were, but careful doesn’t count for shit when someone decides to start digging. Joy—brilliant, confident, razor-sharp Joy—was collateral damage. They moved her into a new position in another department, far enough away to keep your reputations clean but not close enough to keep her in your orbit.

You were furious that night. Not at her—never at her—but at the situation. At the loss. At the fact that you could still smell her perfume in your office but knew she wouldn’t be back.

That’s why you were at the hotel rooftop bar, whiskey in hand, trying to burn off the frustration of the day. It wasn’t your scene, not really, but you didn’t want to go home either. Your mansion felt too empty, too still.

And then you saw her.

Mina was sitting alone at a small table near the edge of the rooftop, a glass of wine in front of her that she barely touched. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her face, and a thin pink collar around her neck, catching the light whenever she shifted. She didn’t look like the kind of person who came to places like this. There was no boldness in her, no hunger to be seen. Instead, she looked fragile, almost… lost.

You hadn’t planned to talk to her. Hell, you weren’t even sure why you walked over in the first place. But something about her drew you in, like a song you couldn’t ignore.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked, standing just close enough to catch her attention.

She startled slightly, her dark eyes meeting yours. For a moment, she just stared, like she couldn’t decide if you were a threat or just a stranger. And then, finally, she nodded. “Sure.”

From there, it unfolded in a way you didn’t expect. She was quiet, reserved, but there was something magnetic about her presence. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was nervous. The soft lilt of her voice when she finally started to relax. You spent hours at that table, talking about nothing and everything.

She didn’t know who you were. In fact, she disappeared before she even knew your last name. And that's what irritates you the most, she wasn’t trying to impress you or pry into your life. She was just… Mina. Delicate, thoughtful, a little melancholic. And when she finally laughed at one of your terrible jokes, it hit you like a gut punch. That laugh was worth chasing.

When the night wound down, you couldn’t leave it there. You asked if she was free the following Friday, and while she hesitated at first, she eventually said yes. That yes was everything.

Over the next few weeks, you saw her again and again. Dinner dates, quiet walks, coffee in tucked-away cafes. Every time, she wore that pink collar around her neck, like it was her signature. Sometimes she paired it with pink earrings or a soft cardigan, little pops of color that somehow suited her perfectly.

She fascinated you. She was so different from anyone else in your life. While most people around you were loud, demanding, or always trying to prove something, Mina was the opposite. She was quiet, thoughtful, and mysterious. And that mystery—it got under your skin. She was careful about what she shared, especially about her personal life. Every time you asked about her work, she’d deflect or give vague answers, like she was hiding something. It didn’t feel malicious, though—just private. And for a while, you let it slide.

Because being with her felt good. It felt right.

You fell for her without even realizing it. It wasn’t one big moment—it was a series of small ones. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about a book she loved. The way she chewed her bottom lip when she was nervous. The way she’d trace the rim of her glass absentmindedly during your dates.

And then there was the night you kissed her.

It was after dinner, and you were walking her back to her apartment. The street was quiet, the air cool against your skin. She looked up at you, her dark eyes catching the glow of a streetlamp, and you couldn’t stop yourself. You stepped closer, brushing your fingers against her cheek, and when she didn’t pull away, you kissed her.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was the kiss. The kind that made everything else fall away. Her lips were soft and warm, and when she kissed you back, clutching the front of your jacket like she didn’t want to let go, you thought, This is it. This is the moment.

When you pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her breath uneven. She looked at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of her, and you knew she felt it too.

But that was the last time you saw her.

The next day, her phone went straight to voicemail. The day after that, her number wasn’t receiving messages anymore. You waited a few days, hoping it was some kind of mistake, but when you went to her apartment to find her, you were told she’d moved out.

No forwarding address. No explanation. Just gone.

You spent the next six months wondering. Did she like you? Did she feel the same way? Was the kiss too much, too soon? Or was there something else, something bigger that you didn’t see coming?

You don’t have answers. All you have is the ache of her absence and the memories she left behind. And that damn pink collar, burned into your mind like a ghost you can’t let go of.

—

The office feels different when you walk in. Not unfamiliar, but strained. It’s subtle—an edge in the air that clings to the walls, the carpet, even the people. You feel it the second you step off the elevator, pulling your carry-on behind you, your suit jacket slung over one shoulder. The receptionist glances up from her desk, her usual smile faltering before she offers a polite “Welcome back.” It’s not much, but you notice it.

You’re too tired for this shit. Ten days of nonstop flights, endless presentations, and late-night negotiations in boardrooms on the other side of the world. Foreign investors who didn’t understand—or didn’t want to understand—the pitch. Cultural nuances you had to navigate carefully, smiling through every insult wrapped in a compliment. You came back expecting at least a day to decompress, but instead, you’re greeted with a summons to the conference room like you’re an employee being called into HR.

The floor is quiet as you make your way down the hallway, your polished shoes muffled against the carpet. Too quiet. You glance into a few open offices, catching glimpses of employees huddled over desks, their eyes darting away when they notice you. It’s not paranoia; you know how they talk when you’re not around. They think you don’t hear it. That you’re too far up the ladder to notice the whispers about Joy, about the HR audit, about your temper. About your recent decisions. But you notice. And right now, you don’t care enough to put on a show.

When you push open the door to the conference room, they’re all there: the board members, key investors, a couple of senior executives. A carefully curated group of people who like to pretend they’re on your side but are really just here to protect their interests.

“Welcome back,” says Marianne from marketing, her tone overly cheerful, like she’s trying to neutralize the temperature in the room before it boils over.

“Spare me,” you say, dropping your bag by the door and shrugging off your jacket. You toss it onto the back of a chair, not bothering to sit yet. “What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

There’s a beat of hesitation. The group exchanges glances, as if silently debating who’s going to take the hit and speak first. It’s Greg, of course—an older board member who’s been around since the early days but never lets you forget how much he disapproves of how you’ve “changed” since then.

“We wanted to discuss the upcoming gala,” Greg says, his voice slow and deliberate, like he’s addressing a particularly difficult child. “It’s an important event, and we need to ensure we’re putting our best foot forward.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes for a moment. “The gala,” you repeat flatly. “That’s what this is about?”

“It’s not just any gala,” Marianne says quickly, leaning forward in her chair. “It’s the philanthropic tech event of the year. A lot of eyes will be on us, and—”

“And you think I don’t know how these events work?” you cut her off. You can feel the room tense, but you don’t care. “I’ve been to enough of them to know they’re all the same. CEOs patting themselves on the back for donating money they won’t miss, a parade of egos disguised as charity. What exactly do you need me there for?”

Marianne hesitates, her gaze flicking to Greg like she’s hoping he’ll take over. He does. “Because, like it or not, you’re the face of this company,” Greg says, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. “You can’t just send someone else to represent us. That would send the wrong message.”

“What message would that be?” you snap, finally sitting down at the head of the table. “That I’m too busy actually running the company to waste my time playing dress-up with a bunch of people I can barely stand?”

There’s a silence that stretches just a little too long. Then one of the investors—a younger guy with a suit that probably cost more than your first office did—clears his throat. “Look, we get it. You’re busy. But this isn’t just about appearances. The auto manufacturers will be there. The same ones we’ve been trying to get on board with the software project. This could be the perfect opportunity to… plant some seeds.”

You hesitate, running a hand through your hair. As much as you’d love to blow this whole conversation off, you can’t ignore the opportunity. The car software is a game-changer—your brainchild, built to make vehicles smarter, smoother, and damn near self-sufficient. Real-time diagnostics, predictive maintenance, AI-driven efficiency tweaks—it’s all there, cutting down waste, boosting performance, and making sure no one’s stranded on the side of the road because their engine decided to have a meltdown. It’s not your first rodeo, either. You’ve already spearheaded optimization software for logistics firms, shaving seconds off response times and millions off wasted fuel. The automation tools you built for manufacturing? Same deal—streamlining operations, reducing errors, and making sure no one has to play babysitter to outdated systems. If this gala gets the right people listening, maybe it’s worth putting on a suit and playing nice.

“Fine,” you say finally, your voice clipped. “I’ll go. But I’m not promising anything beyond showing up.”

“That’s all we need,” Marianne says quickly, relief flooding her voice. But then she hesitates, her smile faltering slightly. “Well… almost all.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “What now?”

“It’s just…” She glances around the room, clearly hoping someone else will say it. But no one does, so she presses on. “These events are as much about perception as they are about substance. Most attendees bring someone with them—a partner, a date. It’s… expected.”

You lean back in your chair, staring at her like she’s just asked you to juggle flaming knives. “You want me to bring a date?”

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” she says quickly, holding up her hands. “Just someone. It’s all about the image we present. Polished, relatable—”

“Relatable,” you cut her off, the word dripping with sarcasm. “That’s what we’re going for now?”

Her face flushes, but she holds her ground. “It’s about optics,” she says firmly. “These events are political, whether we like it or not. And if we want to maintain our standing in the industry, we need to play the game.”

The room goes quiet again, all eyes on you. You can feel the unspoken tension, the undercurrent of unease that’s been building ever since the audit. They’re worried about you. About your temper, your decisions, the fallout from Joy’s reassignment. They don’t say it, but it’s written all over their faces.

You stand abruptly, pushing back your chair with a scrape that makes a few people flinch. “I’ll think about it,” you say, your tone cold.

Before anyone can say another word, you grab your jacket and bag and walk out, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. You don’t look back.

You head to your office, shutting the door behind you and sinking into the chair behind your desk. The city sprawls out beyond the glass wall, its lights twinkling like a sea of restless stars. You stare at it, your thoughts drifting despite yourself.

The idea of bringing someone to the gala feels… impossible. You’re not exactly the dating type these days. Work has consumed you, chewed up whatever was left of your personal life after Mina disappeared. And the thought of standing in a room full of egos and ulterior motives, pretending to care about small talk, feels like a special kind of hell.

But the software. The cars. The deals you could make…

You lean back in your chair, exhaling slowly. “Relatable,” you mutter to yourself, the word bitter on your tongue.

—

The week barrels by, every day a relentless stream of meetings, strategy calls, and preparation for the gala. It’s happening in Vienna, a city as gilded and ostentatious as the egos that will crowd into its marble halls for this spectacle of “philanthropy.” Between the chaos of work and the logistics of the trip, you nearly forget about the whole date situation—until the executives start harping on it again.

“You need to bring someone,” one of them had insisted just this morning, his voice grating as he delivered the same spiel you’ve been hearing for days. “These events are as much about perception as they are about deals. A polished image. Approachable. Human.”

It doesn’t matter how much you hate this game, or how fake it all feels—appearances do matter. And the truth is, there’s no one you want to bring. The thought of dragging some boring socialite or ambitious entrepreneur along for the night feels unbearable.

That’s when you remember the card.

You’re halfway through packing for the trip when you spot it in your desk drawer, tucked under a stack of old notes and business receipts. It’s sleek, black, and understated, with only a name and a phone number embossed in silver. One of your friends, another billionaire tech genius with a taste for indulgence, had passed it to you years ago over whiskey in his penthouse. “For emergencies,” he’d said with a wink, and you’d stuffed it in your pocket, brushing it off as something you’d never need.

Now, though…

You think back to the last time you hired an escort. It had been a waste—nothing but a pretty face with no substance, a shallow girl who bored you half to death with vapid chatter before the sex finally salvaged the night. You’d sworn off the idea after that. But this card, this agency, is supposed to be different. Exclusive. No websites, no social media, nothing that leaves a trail. Just a whisper network for the ultra-rich. And right now, with the gala looming and no other options, it’s starting to feel like your best bet.

On your private jet, somewhere over Europe, you make the call.

The woman who answers is professional but guarded, her tone smooth and unhurried. “Yes?”

“I need someone,” you say, skipping past pleasantries. “For an event tomorrow night in Vienna. The best you have, and I don’t care what it costs.”

There’s a pause on the other end, a beat too long. “That’s not quite how we operate, sir,” she says, her voice carefully measured. “Our process is tailored, discreet. We—”

You cut her off, your tone firm and impatient. “I don’t need the details. Just make it happen. I’ll pay triple.”

The offer hangs in the air, and you can practically hear her calculating on the other end. Money talks, and you’re fluent in it.

“Very well,” she says finally, her voice softening just slightly. “We’ll send someone to meet you at the event. She’ll be dressed appropriately. I'll call you later to finalize the details.”

“Good,” you say, and hang up without waiting for a response.

By the time you land in Vienna, you’re running on fumes. The trip has been exhausting, and all you want is a few hours of sleep before the circus begins. The hotel is luxurious but impersonal, all polished stone and muted elegance. You crash almost as soon as you hit the bed.

—

The night of the gala arrives faster than you’d like, and you’re already on edge as you step into the limousine waiting outside the hotel. The city lights blur past the tinted windows, but your mind is elsewhere.

You haven’t thought about Joy in a while, not really. But tonight, as you sit in the back of the car, waiting for your escort to arrive, her memory creeps back in. You think about how effortless it would’ve been to bring her. She would’ve been perfect—her smile, her smart mind, the way she always seemed to put you at ease without even trying. But she’s gone. They took her away from you.

Your security guard interrupts your thoughts with a knock on the window. You roll it down, barely glancing at him. “What is it?”

“She’s here,” he says, holding out the card she gave him. It’s identical to the one in your desk, confirming she’s from the agency.

You nod, gesturing for him to let her in. “Send her over.”

The door opens, and she steps inside, her soft “Good evening” breaking the quiet.

You glance up, expecting nothing more than another pretty face. And then the air leaves your lungs.

It’s her.

Mina.

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t fucking breathe. She’s standing there, halfway into the car, her hand gripping the doorframe like she needs the support. She’s just as shocked as you are—her dark eyes wide, her lips slightly parted as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

“Mina?” you manage to say, your voice rough and disbelieving.

Her name seems to snap her out of it. She swallows hard, her gaze darting away as she steps fully into the car and sits down across from you. “I… didn’t realize it was you,” she says quietly.

You stare at her, still trying to process what the hell is happening. She’s different, but not. Her hair is styled more elegantly, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Her dress is black and fitted, hugging her slender frame and dipping low enough to hint at the curve of her breasts. But it’s the pink collar around her neck that catches your attention, that unmistakable touch of Mina that tugs at something deep inside you.

“You’re…” You trail off, shaking your head as if that’ll make sense of any of this. “You’re the escort?”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. “Yes,” she says softly, her voice tight with shame.

Your mind is a mess, a thousand questions crashing into each other. She was gone. Disappeared without a trace. And now here she is, sitting across from you, dressed to kill and working for a high-class escort agency.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence is heavy, charged, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

Finally, you lean forward, your elbows resting on your knees as you look at her. “Where the hell have you been, Mina?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she glances out the window, her profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. “It’s… complicated,” she says eventually.

“Complicated?” you repeat, your tone sharper than you intended. “You disappeared. No calls, no messages. Nothing. And now I find out you’re… this?” You gesture vaguely, frustration bleeding into your words.

Her eyes snap back to yours, a flicker of defiance breaking through her shame. “You don’t understand,” she says, her voice trembling but firm.

“You’re right,” you say, your jaw tightening. “I don’t. So why don’t you explain it to me?”

But she doesn’t. She just sits there, her gaze dropping back to her lap, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress.

You exhale sharply, leaning back in your seat and running a hand over your face. This is not how you expected tonight to go. Not even close.

And yet, despite the anger simmering in your chest, you can’t stop looking at her. Can’t ignore how beautiful she is, how utterly mesmerizing she looks sitting there in the dim light of the car.

Mina. After all this time.

For a split second, you think about kicking her out of the car. The words are halfway out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “I should make you get out,” you say coldly, the weight of everything—her disappearance, her reappearance like this, her fucking job—all slamming into you at once.

Mina flinches, her body going rigid as she stares at you, her wide eyes glistening like you’ve just slapped her.

But then you catch yourself. The anger, the confusion, the tidal wave of emotions—it’s too much, too fast. You take a deep breath, dragging a hand down your face and forcing yourself to calm the hell down. “I didn’t mean that,” you say, your voice softer now, but still tense. “It’s just… this is a lot to process.”

Mina doesn’t say anything at first, but her shoulders relax slightly. She looks down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, her fingers gripping the hem of her dress. “I understand,” she says quietly, though her tone is laced with something else—shame, maybe, or resignation.

You lean back in your seat, running your hand over your face again. Part of you doesn’t know whether to be furious or relieved. You’d convinced yourself she was gone for good, a chapter closed without any closure. And now here she is, sitting across from you, stunning and poised, but not at all the person you thought she was.

The car hums quietly as it moves through the city, the tension thick and suffocating. You exhale sharply, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice low. “For being… rude.”

Mina’s head tilts slightly, and she looks at you with cautious curiosity.

You sigh, shaking your head. “It’s just… you disappearing like that. No calls, no texts. And now… this? It’s a lot. But I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

The silence stretches again, but it feels a little less sharp this time. You glance at her again, really looking at her now. Her dress is elegant, black and perfectly tailored to her slim frame, with a deep neckline that highlights the delicate curve of her collarbone. Her hair is swept over one shoulder in loose waves, and her pink collar—the one she always seemed to wear—stands out against the otherwise dark palette of her outfit. She looks stunning, radiant even, and it’s infuriating how much it still gets to you.

“You look beautiful,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

She blinks, her cheeks flushing faintly as she glances at you. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“We’ll need to talk after this,” you say, your tone firmer now.

Mina nods, her hands still tightly clasped in her lap. “Okay.”

—

When the car pulls up to the venue, you’re greeted by the inevitable swarm of photographers stationed outside. You force a smile, your jaw tightening as camera flashes light up the night.

The door opens, and you step out first, straightening your jacket as the cameras shift their focus to you. You turn, offering a hand to Mina as she steps out of the car.

For a moment, there’s a murmur from the crowd, a ripple of intrigue as they take her in. She’s stunning, no question about it. You place a hand lightly on her lower back as you guide her toward the entrance, pausing briefly to pose for a few photos. Mina’s smile is soft but steady, her composure flawless despite the cameras flashing in her face.

“Have you ever been to one of these events before?” you ask her quietly as you walk.

“A few,” she admits, glancing at you.

“Good,” you say with a faint smirk. “Then you know how to behave.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile but is holding it back. “I think I can manage.”

Inside, the venue is as over-the-top as you’d expected—marble floors, glittering chandeliers, and a sea of impeccably dressed elites mingling with glasses of champagne in hand. The hum of conversation fills the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the soft clink of glasses.

You guide Mina through the crowd, pausing occasionally to greet acquaintances and exchange polite pleasantries. To your surprise, she handles herself with ease, her demeanor poised and elegant. She smiles softly, speaks when spoken to, and moves through the room like she belongs there.

And then, she surprises you again.

You’re speaking with a pair of Italian businessmen, partners of a major European car brand, their thick accents making the conversation a little slower than usual. One of them turns to Mina, asking her a question in rapid Italian, and before you can step in, she responds. In fluent Italian.

The conversation shifts seamlessly, Mina’s voice calm and confident as she speaks with them. She even laughs lightly at something one of them says, her smile soft but genuine.

You don’t realize you’re staring until the older of the two men turns to you, his smile wide and impressed. “She’s incredible,” he says in heavily accented English. “You’re a lucky man.”

You force a smile, nodding stiffly. “Thank you.”

But the surprises don’t stop there. Later, you find her speaking with a group of Spanish executives, her voice slipping effortlessly between English and Spanish as the conversation flows.

By the time she rejoins you, you’re struggling to reconcile the woman standing in front of you with the quiet, almost shy girl you thought you knew.

“You didn’t tell me you spoke Italian and Spanish,” you say, your tone more curious than accusatory.

She shrugs lightly, her lips quirking into a small smile. “You never asked.”

Before you can respond, another acquaintance approaches, drawing your attention away. But even as you smile and shake hands, your thoughts keep drifting back to her.

You’re impressed, no doubt about that. But the lingering frustration, the unanswered questions, the feeling of being blindsided—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface.

This isn’t the Mina you thought you knew. But maybe, just maybe, the real Mina is just as captivating.

—

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the car’s engine humming softly as the city blurs past. You’re drained—mentally, physically, the whole damn package—but there’s a small, smug satisfaction simmering underneath the exhaustion. Three major car brand owners, all genuinely interested in what your software could do for the next generation of vehicles. Real conversations, not just polite nods and empty promises. And Mina? She was a godsend. Every time one of them looked ready to move on, she’d tilt her head just right, flash that effortless smile, and keep them hooked long enough for you to land your pitch. Now, she’s sitting beside you, quiet, hands folded neatly in her lap, staring out at the passing lights. The pink collar around her neck catches in the dim glow, a soft contrast to the sharp perfection of her black dress. You steal another glance, fingers twitching against your knee. You should be thinking about contracts, deals, next steps—but all you can think about is her.

Now, back in the confines of your hotel suite, the performance is over. The mask you’ve been wearing all night slips off the second you shut the door behind you.

You loosen your bow tie and toss it onto the table, shrugging off your jacket before sinking into the chair by the window. The soft glow of the city filters through the glass, illuminating the room in a faint golden light. Mina sits on the edge of the bed, her posture stiff, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She doesn’t look at you, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioner.

You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees as you stare at her. “Okay,” you say. “Talk.”

Mina finally looks at you, her expression cautious. “About what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, a little sharper than intended. “Why did you disappear?”

She flinches slightly at your tone but recovers quickly, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Isn’t it obvious?” she says quietly.

“Humor me,” you reply, leaning back in the chair.

She hesitates, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. “Because of my job,” she finally says.

You had suspected as much, but hearing her say it still hits harder than you’d like. “That’s it?” you ask, frowning. “That’s why you ran? Because you’re an escort?”

Mina looks up at you then, her dark eyes flashing with something sharp and defensive. “It’s not that simple,” she says. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you shoot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because it doesn’t make sense. You’re not like the others. High-class escorts are supposed to be confident, polished, untouchable. But you…” You trail off, gesturing vaguely at her. “You’re shy. Reserved. You don’t fit the mold.”

Mina scoffs softly, shaking her head. “What difference does it make when I got into this?”

“It makes a difference to me,” you say, your voice firm.

She narrows her eyes at you, her posture straightening slightly. “Why? So you can tell yourself it wasn’t your fault? That you didn’t miss the signs?”

You bite back a retort, inhaling deeply to steady yourself. “You could have told me,” you say after a beat, your tone softer now.

She laughs bitterly. “And then what? You’d disappear like all the others? Make me feel like I’m disgusting? Like I’m not worth the time or effort because of what I do?"

The way she says that disarms you, and for a moment, you’re silent, trying to process what she’s saying. And then, clear as day, you realize: she was working the night you met her.

“You’re not disgusting,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “I just—who are you, Mina? Because the girl I met on that rooftop and the woman I saw tonight… they’re not the same.”

Mina stands abruptly, smoothing her dress as she takes a step toward the door. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” she says, her tone clipped.

You rise from the chair, crossing the space between you before she can reach the handle. “You’re not leaving,” you say firmly, stepping in front of her. “Not yet. I'm paying for your company, remember?"

Mina looks up at you, her expression defiant but tinged with uncertainty. “What are you going to do? Keep me here just to humiliate me?”

“No,” you say, your voice dropping as you reach for her waist, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her dress. “I’m not going to humiliate you. I want to know you. The real you.”

Her breath hitches at your touch, her hands hovering near your chest as if she’s not sure whether to push you away or pull you closer. “Why?” she whispers. “What’s the point? I’m not who you thought I was.”

“I don’t care,” you say, your voice steady. “I want all of you. The parts you think I’ll hate, the parts you’re scared to show. I want the truth, Mina. No more running. No more pretending.”

She stares at you, her lips trembling as she tries to form a response. Finally, she exhales shakily, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I liked you,” she admits, her voice barely audible. “On the rooftop, I mean. You were… different. And I was stupid enough to think I could pretend. Go on normal dates. Be a normal girl. But then you kissed me…”

Her voice falters, and she looks away, her hands falling to her sides. “It was too much,” she says softly. “I couldn’t keep going. It would’ve hurt more if I let it continue.”

You don’t give her a chance to say anything else. You close the distance between you in one swift motion, your hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck as you kiss her. It’s nothing like the first kiss. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s deeper, hungrier, fueled by the months of unanswered questions and the tension crackling between you now.

Mina responds instantly, her hands gripping your shoulders as she kisses you back just as fiercely. The taste of her, the softness of her lips, the faint tremor in her body—it’s all intoxicating, pulling you under like a riptide.

When you finally pull back, you rest your forehead against hers, your breath coming in uneven bursts. “You don’t get to disappear again,” you say, your voice rough with emotion. “Not this time.”

She nods faintly, her fingers clutching the front of your shirt as if she’s holding on for dear life. “Okay,” she whispers.

You tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze. “I want you, Mina,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “All of you. No more walls. No more hiding.”

She hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching yours. Then she nods again, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile. “Okay,” she says again, and this time, it feels like a promise.

Your lips crash into hers again, the taste of her intoxicating, the soft, urgent gasps she makes spurring you on. You don’t even realize you’re walking her backward until her legs bump against the edge of the mattress. She stumbles, her balance faltering, and falls back onto the bed with a shy, breathy laugh.

The sight of her—her flushed cheeks, her dark eyes looking up at you, a mix of nerves and anticipation—hits you harder than it should. You lean over her, your hands braced on either side of her as your mouth finds her neck. You kiss her there, firm and insistent, letting your lips brush over the pink collar around her throat. It feels like her signature, soft and delicate and entirely hers.

Mina’s breath catches, her fingers fumbling at the buttons of your dress shirt. She’s careful at first, her movements slow, but there’s a growing urgency as her fingers work their way down. Once the last button is undone, you shrug the shirt off yourself, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Her hands hover over your bare chest for a moment, her touch light and hesitant, and you swear the way she’s looking at you might undo you.

You reach for the hem of her dress, tugging it down with deliberate slowness, revealing inch by inch of her soft, smooth skin. When her small, perky breasts come into view, the sight alone is enough to make your pulse hammer in your ears. Her nipples are already hard, and the way her chest rises and falls with each unsteady breath drives you wild.

“Mina…” you murmur, your voice rough, almost hoarse. You run your thumb over one of her nipples, watching the way she shudders under your touch, her lips parting in a soft gasp.

You lower your head, kissing the swell of her chest, letting your mouth trail down until you reach her breast. You take her nipple between your lips, sucking gently at first, then harder, your tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. Mina moans, her hands gripping the sheets, her back arching slightly as she presses herself closer to you.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice shaky, needy. “Don’t stop.”

You don’t. You move to her other breast, your hand cupping the one you’ve just left behind as your mouth closes around her nipple. You suck harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make her gasp. Her hands are in your hair now, her fingers tugging slightly as you nibble on her, her moans getting louder.

She’s perfect, every sound she makes spurring you on, every little movement pulling you deeper into her. You drag your teeth over her nipple again, your tongue soothing the spot right after, and the way she trembles beneath you makes you want to devour her completely.

“More,” she breathes, her voice barely audible but filled with need. “Please…”

Your kisses trail lower, down her stomach, across the soft, warm skin that seems to shiver under your lips. Her breathing is shallow, quickening with every inch you descend. The dress is bunched up around her hips now, and as you glance down, you see her panties—black, lacy, and sheer, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive you insane. They’re perfect, teasing just enough of the treasure beneath.

You pull back for a moment, standing and tugging your belt loose in one fluid motion. The clink of the metal fills the quiet air between you as your hands move with purpose. Shoes off. Pants next. Mina sits up slightly, her eyes widening when her gaze falls to your cock, straining against the fabric of your underwear as she takes off her high heels. Her reaction sends a thrill straight to your core, and you smirk as you hook your thumbs into the waistband, shoving them down.

Her breath catches when you finally reveal yourself, her eyes locking onto your cock as it stands thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You give it a slow, deliberate stroke, your fingers gliding down the length before squeezing lightly at the base. “Like what you see?” you ask, your voice a low, teasing growl.

She nods quickly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parting as she swallows hard. “Yes,” she whispers.

Her answer sends a surge of heat straight through you, but as you step closer, you pause, something pulling at the back of your mind. “Fuck,” you mutter, your hand dropping to your side. “I don’t have a condom.”

Mina shakes her head almost instantly, her expression soft but sure. “I don’t need it,” she says, her voice trembling just slightly. “Not with you.”

Something about the way she says it—the trust, the certainty—makes any hesitation on your part disappear. You don’t waste another second.

Your hands are on her again, sliding her dress the rest of the way down before hooking into her panties. You tug them off slowly, savoring the way the lace clings to her skin before revealing her, already glistening with arousal. The sight makes your cock twitch in your hand, the need to take her overwhelming, primal.

You kneel between her legs, lifting them slightly, and let the head of your cock brush against her slick folds. She gasps softly, her hips shifting instinctively, but you hold back, teasing her, letting the tip barely press against her entrance.

“Beg for it,” you say, your voice low and commanding. “Be a good girl and tell me how much you want my cock.”

Mina’s head tilts back, her cheeks flaming red as she whimpers. “Please,” she breathes, her voice cracking. “Please, I want it. I need it. Please…”

The desperation in her voice pushes you over the edge. You press forward slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until you’re buried inside her completely. She’s tight, hot, and soaking wet, her walls clenching around you as she moans loudly, her fingers gripping the sheets beside her.

You don’t move right away, savoring the way she feels around you, the way her body seems to mold itself to yours. You lean down, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed face as you meet her gaze. “You were beautiful tonight,” you murmur, your voice softer now. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. No one could.”

Her breath hitches, her lips trembling as she stares up at you. “I was waiting for this,” she confesses, her voice shaky but filled with something raw and honest. “For you. To be… used by you.”

Her words ignite something in you, a darker hunger that’s been lurking just beneath the surface. You grip her thighs tightly, pulling back just enough to thrust into her hard and deep. The sudden movement makes her cry out, her hands flying to your shoulders for support as her body arches beneath you.

You set a brutal pace, pounding into her relentlessly, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. Each thrust drags another moan from her lips, her nails digging into your skin as she clings to you. “That’s it,” you growl, your voice rough with exertion. “Take it. Be my good girl.”

“Yes,” Mina whimpers, her voice barely audible over the sound of her moans. “Yes, please…”

Her submission, her eagerness to please, only spurs you on, driving you deeper into her, harder and faster. You want to break her in the best way, to ruin her for anyone else, to claim every part of her until there’s no doubt in either of your minds who she belongs to.

Your hips crash into hers, the sound of skin meeting skin sharp and echoing in the quiet of the room. Mina’s moans fill the air, high and desperate, each one more breathless than the last. She clutches the sheets beneath her, her body trembling as you pound into her without mercy, your thick cock stretching her in ways that make her lose herself completely.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her voice cracking as her head tilts back. “You’re so big. I can feel you so deep.”

You grip her thighs tighter, spreading her open as you drive into her relentlessly. She’s completely at your mercy, her small body taking everything you give her, her pussy squeezing you like she doesn’t want to let go.

“Look at you,” you growl, your eyes locked on her. “Taking my cock like a good fucking girl. You love this, don’t you? Being used like this?”

“Yes!” she cries out, her voice breaking with need. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop!”

Her perky tits bounce with every thrust, hypnotic in their movement. You can’t look away, the sight of her completely undone beneath you making it impossible to think about anything else. Sweat glistens on her skin, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from how hard you’ve kissed her.

You lean forward, one hand still gripping her thigh while the other slides up her body. You pause at her throat, your palm resting lightly against her warm, delicate skin. Her eyes snap open, wide and shining with pleasure and trust. She lifts a trembling hand, placing it on your wrist as if to say: I want this. Keep going.

Your fingers tighten slightly around her throat, just enough to make her gasp. Her pupils dilate, her body arching into yours as she lets out a choked moan. The way her pussy tightens around your cock makes you groan, your control slipping as you press harder into her.

“Such a fucking slut for me,” you mutter, your voice rough with exertion and lust. “You like that? You like being choked while I fuck you like this?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “I love it. I love it so much. Please, don’t stop. Please…”

Her face contorts with pleasure, her eyes fluttering shut as you pound into her harder, deeper. You watch her completely unravel, her lips parted, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged bursts. Her nails dig into your wrist, not to stop you but to ground herself as the pleasure overtakes her.

“Look at you,” you say, tightening your grip just a fraction more. “So fucking perfect. So desperate for me.”

She nods weakly, her body trembling beneath you, her voice breaking as she tries to respond. “Only for you,” she manages to whisper, her words slurring with pleasure. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

Her submission sends you over the edge, your hips snapping into her with a brutal pace, each thrust hitting so deep that she cries out, her body writhing beneath you. Her pussy clamps down on you, pulling you in, milking you for everything you’re worth.

You don’t let up, your hand still wrapped around her throat, your cock buried to the hilt inside her as you drive her higher and higher. Her legs shake, her moans turning into incoherent sounds of pleasure as she completely gives herself over to you.

Your hand slides from her throat to her mouth, your thumb brushing over her swollen lips. Without hesitation, Mina parts them, her tongue darting out to tease the pad of your finger before taking it fully into her mouth. Her eyes lock onto yours, dark and full of lust, as she sucks sensually, her lips wrapping around your finger like she’s begging for more.

“Fuck, Mina,” you growl, the sight of her completely undoing you.

You keep thrusting into her, deep and relentless, your hips snapping against hers as she moans around your finger. The wet heat of her mouth, combined with the tight grip of her pussy clenching around you, pushes you dangerously close to losing control. She’s perfect, completely in the moment, her body moving with yours in desperate rhythm.

You pull your finger from her mouth, watching the way her tongue flicks out, almost reluctant to let you go. But you’re not done yet. Leaning down, you grab her legs and lift her slightly, repositioning yourself. You press your weight into her, chest to chest, as you drive your cock even deeper. The new angle has her gasping, her head pressing back into the mattress as your pace quickens.

“Oh my god,” Mina cries out, her nails digging into your shoulders. “You’re so deep… fuck, don’t stop.”

“Never,” you growl, your voice rough as you bury yourself inside her again and again, each thrust making her tits bounce deliciously beneath you.

The bed creaks beneath the force of your movements, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. You lower your mouth to hers, kissing her hard, swallowing her moans as you fuck her with everything you have. She kisses you back just as fiercely, her nails scraping down your back, leaving a burning trail of pleasure-pain in their wake.

“I’m going to cum,” she gasps against your lips, her voice shaking with urgency. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

“Then fucking cum,” you growl, your hips slamming into her faster, harder. “Cum all over my cock, Mina. Be a good girl and let go for me.”

Her body tenses, her legs trembling as her orgasm crashes over her. She cries out, her back arching off the bed as her nails dig deep into your skin, enough to draw blood. The sting only fuels you, and you keep fucking her through it, slowing your pace just enough to draw out every wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans, her voice shaky and raw. “That was so good… your cock feels so fucking amazing.”

You smirk, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Good,” you murmur against her skin. “because I'm not done with you yet.”

Mina’s eyes widen slightly, but there’s no hesitation, only anticipation. You pull out of her slowly, your cock slick and glistening with her arousal, and sit back on your heels. “Ride me,” you command, your voice low and firm.

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She moves quickly, her body lithe and eager as she straddles you, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your hips. You grip her waist, guiding her as she lowers herself onto your cock.

“Fuck,” you groan, your head falling back as her tight heat envelops you. “That’s it. Take it all, Mina.”

She gasps, her hands resting on your chest for balance as she starts to move. Slowly at first, rolling her hips in a way that has you gripping her tighter, your fingers digging into her skin.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” you growl, your eyes locked on the way her body moves. “Bouncing on my cock like this. You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling as she picks up the pace. “I love it. I’m your slut. Only yours.”

Her words send a jolt of heat through you, and you reach up, cupping her breasts and squeezing them as she rides you. Her rhythm becomes more desperate, her moans louder as she moves faster, her pussy tightening around you with every thrust.

“Look at you,” you mutter, your voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect. Keep going, Mina. Show me how much you want it.”

She throws her head back, her hands sliding up your chest to your shoulders as she grinds down on you, her movements erratic and wild. She’s completely lost in it, in you, her body trembling as she pushes herself closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements with equal intensity. “You’re mine, Mina. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she cries out, her nails digging into your shoulders again. “Only yours. Always.”

Mina moves like she was born to do this. Every roll of her hips is deliberate, every bounce calculated to drive you insane. The shy girl you met on that rooftop��so quiet, so reserved—is nowhere to be seen now. In her place is a woman who knows exactly what she’s doing, her confidence radiating with every moan she lets slip from her lips, every swivel of her body.

Her hands are braced against your chest, her fingers digging into your skin as she rides you with a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic. Her thighs flex and relax with each movement, her slick heat gripping your cock so perfectly it’s a miracle you haven’t completely lost it yet.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, your voice thick with lust. “Look at you. So fucking sexy. You ride my cock so fucking good.”

She tilts her head back, her hair falling in dark waves over her shoulders, her lips parted as she moans softly. “Yes,” she gasps, her voice breathy and raw. “I love the way you feel inside me. So fucking deep.”

Her pace quickens, the bounce of her hips becoming more frantic as she starts chasing her own pleasure. You grab her waist, your fingers digging into her soft skin, guiding her movements as she grinds down on you. Her breasts sway with each thrust, sweat glistening on her skin, and the sight of her—completely lost in the moment, consumed by you—is almost too much.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you growl, your gaze locked on her. “The way you move, Mina… Jesus. You’re going to make me lose my fucking mind.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, but it quickly dissolves into a moan as she shifts her angle, grinding her clit against you with every downward motion. Her eyes flutter shut, her lips trembling as her breathing becomes ragged.

“I’m so close,” she whimpers, her voice high and desperate. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

“Then cum,” you tell her, your grip tightening on her waist as you thrust up into her. “Cum for me, Mina. Let me see you fall apart again.”

Her body trembles, her movements growing more erratic as she spirals toward her peak. Her moans turn into cries, high and uncontrollable, and her hands slide up to your shoulders, clutching at you like she’s trying to hold on for dear life.

And then she’s there.

Her orgasm crashes over her, her head snapping back as she cries out your name, her voice breaking. Her body tightens, her pussy clenching around your cock like a vice, her thighs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Her face wrinkles in ecstasy, her brows furrowed, her lips parted in a silent scream.

She’s breathtaking, her sweaty body glistening in the low light, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. Her hips move in small, involuntary circles, riding out every last shudder of her climax.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, watching her come undone on top of you. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She collapses onto your chest, her body still trembling, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven bursts. For a moment, neither of you moves, the room filled only with the sound of your heavy breathing.

You brush her hair out of her face, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at you. “Get on your knees,” you say, your voice low and commanding.

Mina’s eyes widen slightly, but there’s no hesitation. She nods, sliding off of you with shaky legs and sinking to the floor between your knees. Her dark eyes meet yours as she leans forward.

She knows exactly what you want. And she’s more than ready to give it to you.

Your hand grips the base of your cock, the slickness of her pussy still lingering on your skin as you look down at her.

“Suck it,” you growl, the heat in your voice unmistakable. “Make me cum, Mina. Show me what that mouth can do.”

She nods slightly, leaning forward without a word. Her hands wrap around your cock first, small and delicate against the thick length of you. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the tip, swirling around it before she takes you into her mouth.

The warmth of her lips, the wet heat of her tongue—it’s perfect. She starts slow, deliberate, her head bobbing gently as she works her way down your cock. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sight of her like this—on her knees, her mouth full of you, her eyes wide and obedient—makes you groan, your head tilting back as pleasure rolls through you.

“Fuck, Mina,” you mutter, your voice tight with arousal. “You’re so fucking good at this. Taking me so well.”

She hums around your cock, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. Her hands move in sync with her mouth, stroking the base as she sucks harder, her tongue swirling with every movement. It’s like she knows exactly what you need, every flick of her tongue, every suctioned pull perfectly calibrated to drive you wild.

You lose yourself in the sensation, your hands finding their way to her hair, tangling in the soft strands. At first, you guide her gently, setting the pace, but as the heat builds, as your cock twitches in her mouth, your control starts to slip.

You grip her hair tighter, pulling her down further onto your cock, forcing her to take more. She gags slightly, the sound muffled but unmistakable, and it sends a bolt of heat straight to your core.

“Take it,” you growl, your voice rough. “Take it all, Mina. I’m going to use that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You start thrusting into her, shallow at first but quickly building to a relentless rhythm. Her hands grip your thighs for balance as you fuck her mouth, your cock sliding deeper with every thrust. She gags again, her throat constricting around you, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans into it, her nails digging into your skin as she lets you use her.

Drool drips from the corners of her mouth, slicking your cock, her chin glistening as you push her harder. Her eyes are watering now, tears slipping down her flushed cheeks, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back. She’s determined, her soft moans vibrating around you as she takes everything you give her.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, your head tilting back as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak. “You’re so fucking perfect. Taking my cock like a good little slut. That’s what you are, isn’t it? My good girl.”

She moans around you, the sound muffled but desperate, and it’s all you need to push you closer.

You pull out of her mouth suddenly, your cock glistening and drenched in her spit, twitching with need. Mina looks up at you, her lips swollen and shiny, her tongue darting out to lick them as she waits. Her mouth stays open, her eyes full of trust and anticipation.

You stroke yourself, your hand tight and fast, your cock slick and aching as you chase your release. “Keep your mouth open,” you command. “Don’t move.”

She obeys, tilting her head back slightly, her tongue out and ready. The sight of her like this—on her knees, her face flushed, her mouth open and waiting—sends you over the edge.

You groan loudly as you cum, thick ropes of it spilling onto her tongue and lips in hot, pulsing bursts. Mina moans softly as you fill her mouth, her body shivering with pleasure even as she stays perfectly still, letting you coat her tongue.

When you’re done, you kneel down in front of her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Show me,” you say, your voice softer now but still firm.

She sticks her tongue out slightly, and there it is—a pool of your cum glistening on her tongue, thick and creamy. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you, and you cup her chin gently, tilting her face up toward you.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your thumb brushing her cheek. “Swallow it. All of it.”

Mina closes her mouth, tilting her head back slightly as she swallows. When she opens her mouth again, it’s empty, her tongue clean, and she looks at you with a small, shy smile that somehow makes your chest tighten.

You exhale slowly, your hand still on her face as you study her. “From tonight on you will not go out with any other man,” you say quietly, the words more a promise than a statement. “I'm serious. No one else. Just me.”

Mina nods, her voice soft but certain. “Just you.”

—

The transition from occasional meetings to something closer to a routine happens so gradually it almost doesn’t register at first. After that night at the gala, you find yourself booking Mina more and more, under the guise of needing her for “company” during your frequent travels. But you both know the truth: you can’t fucking get enough of her.

You were torn at the outset. Why on earth would a man as powerful as you be so desperate for a girl like her? But the truth is: she’s perfect—so perfect it’s almost maddening. Every time you’re with her, she becomes exactly what you need in that moment. In bed, she’s your personal plaything, your perfect little slut, ready and eager to take whatever you give her. On your private jet, she’s perched prettily in lingerie, always obedient, always ready to be fucked, her body an open invitation. Hotel rooms become your private playground, the kind of places where nothing is off-limits, where she lets you push her boundaries because she craves it just as much as you do.

It borders on obsession. No—fuck that. It is obsession.

In Tokyo, you have her wrists tied to the bedposts with silk scarves, her body stretched beneath you like a gift. The glow from the city outside bathes her skin in soft light, highlighting the tension in her muscles as she squirms, testing the bonds.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you say.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she whispers back, her voice breathy, her wide eyes filled with trust and something deeper—something that pulls you in and refuses to let go.

You take your time with her, trailing kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, across her chest. Her breathing turns shallow, her body trembling as your mouth and hands explore every inch of her. When you finally slide inside her, she’s soaking wet, her moans breaking apart into cries as you fuck her harder, watching her tied hands clench the silk in desperation. She comes so hard you think she might shatter beneath you, her body arching, her face contorted in pure ecstasy.

In Dubai, the energy is different—hotter, darker. You’re wound up from tense meetings and late-night calls, and Mina knows it the second she steps into your suite. She’s wearing nothing but a black lace bra and panties, her signature pink collar around her neck.

She kneels without a word, her hands behind her back, her eyes on yours. You don’t ask if she’s ready—she always is.

You bend her over the edge of the bed, her perfect ass in the air, and slide your belt free from your pants with a deliberate snap. The sound makes her gasp, but she doesn’t flinch.

“Count,” you command, your voice low and rough.

“One,” she whispers when the first strike lands.

Her skin reddens as you bring the belt down again and again, each strike met with a shaky gasp or a soft moan. By the time her ass is glowing red and hot to the touch, she’s trembling, her arousal unmistakable. You grip her hips and thrust into her from behind, leaving bruises in your wake. Her cries fill the room, a mix of pain and pleasure as you take her harder, deeper, until she’s nothing but a writhing mess beneath you.

Then there’s New York. That night, you make it clear you’re not letting her waste a single drop. She smiles at you, shy but teasing, already knowing what’s coming.

She rides you with abandon, her small body taking every inch of your cock, her tits bouncing as she moans your name like a prayer. When you cum inside her the first time, she doesn’t stop. She keeps grinding, keeps fucking herself on you until you’re hard again, thrusting up into her like you’re starving for it.

By the time you’re finished, her thighs are slick with your cum, her pussy swollen and drenched. She’s trembling, her body exhausted, but instead of collapsing, she slides down your body and wraps her lips around your cock.

Her tongue works over you, her mouth hot and wet as she moans softly, licking and sucking until there’s not a single drop left.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, your hands tangled in her hair as she looks up at you with those dark, needy eyes. “You love it, don’t you? You love the taste of me.”

She hums in agreement, nodding slightly, her lips never leaving you.

Every night with her is different. One night, you’re tying her up and making her beg for release. The next, you’re spanking her until her ass is red and she’s dripping down her thighs. And sometimes, you just fuck her senseless, cumming inside her again and again until you’ve marked every inch of her.

But there’s more to Mina than the way her body bends to your will, more than the way she moans your name like it’s the only word she knows. She listens. Actually listens. And you realize, between the wild nights and stolen afternoons, you talk to her. About the shit that weighs on you, the things you can’t tell anyone else. The pressures of running an empire, the endless fucking grind, the rare moments when even winning feels hollow.

Mina doesn’t offer advice, doesn’t try to solve your problems. She just listens, her dark eyes steady and attentive, her presence soothing in a way that catches you off guard every time. It’s almost unfair how she makes it so easy to let your guard down.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t just want her when you’re fucking her. You want her all the time.

The realization hits you like a freight train one night after you’ve had her pinned against the window of your hotel room, the city lights framing her naked, trembling body as you fucked her into oblivion. She’s lying beside you now, her head resting on your chest, her finger sliding in circles on your skin.

You think about how empty the room would be if she wasn't here. How empty you’ll feel.

“You should work for me,” you blurt out, the thought spilling out of your mouth before you can stop it.

Mina props herself up on one elbow, her brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“Work for me,” you repeat, more certain this time. “Be my secretary.”

She blinks, caught off guard. “I’m not a secretary.”

“You don’t have to be,” you say, sitting up slightly. “It’s not about the work. I’ll hire a team to handle the complicated shit. All I need is someone to keep me organized. And I’ll pay you triple what you’re making now.”

Mina gives you a skeptical look, her lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh. “Triple?” she echoes. “You must be desperate.”

“I am,” you admit without hesitation, your voice steady as you meet her gaze. “Desperate to have you close. All the time. Whenever I need you.”

Her expression softens, her eyes searching yours like she’s trying to figure out if you’re serious. “You’re offering me a job just to keep me around?”

“Exactly,” you say, your tone firm. “It’s not just about the sex, Mina. It’s about you. I need you. And I want you close, always.”

She hesitates, biting her bottom lip as she looks away, clearly thinking it over. “It’s a little… unorthodox,” she says finally, her voice soft but thoughtful.

You smirk, leaning closer to her. “You’re not exactly conventional either, are you?”

That earns you a small laugh, and she shakes her head, her hair falling into her face. “Fair point.”

“Come on,” you say, your tone more coaxing now. “You’re already spending most of your time with me. This just makes it official. And you’ll still get to do all the things you love—travel, nice hotels, insane shopping sprees.”

She raises an eyebrow at that, clearly unimpressed by the pitch. “You think that’s all I care about?”

“No,” you say seriously. “I think you care about me. And I know you don’t have to admit it, but I think the idea of staying close to me doesn’t sound all that bad to you.”

Mina’s quiet for a moment, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the sheet covering you both. When she finally looks at you again, there’s a hint of a smile on her lips, soft and almost shy.

“You’re not wrong,” she admits quietly. “Being close to you… I do want that.”

“Then say yes,” you urge, your voice low and steady. “Let me take care of you, Mina. Let me give you everything you need.”

She exhales slowly, her eyes holding yours. And then, after what feels like an eternity, she nods.

“Okay,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You lean forward, cupping her face in your hands as you kiss her deeply, your relief and satisfaction pouring into the kiss. Mina melts against you, her hands sliding up your chest as she kisses you back with equal intensity.

“You’re mine now,” you murmur against her lips, your tone possessive but laced with affection. “Completely mine.”

She smiles, her eyes soft but full of mischief. “Completely yours,” she echoes, and you know she means it.

—

Mina’s heels click against the polished floors as she follows Joy through the office, her new world opening up piece by piece. She’s dressed for the part—her blouse crisp, her pencil skirt snug but professional, her legs encased in sheer pantyhose that give her a glossy, polished look. She looks the part of a perfect secretary, but inside, she still feels like she’s playing dress-up.

Joy, ever the professional, explains everything with a bright, polite tone. She gestures at different parts of the office, outlining schedules, expectations, and protocols, her sharp heels and tailored blazer giving her an air of authority. Mina listens intently, nodding at all the right places, but there’s a slight tension between them.

Though Joy doesn’t say anything outright, her expression gives her away. The slight smirk when she points out where you keep your coffee mugs. The deliberate pause before she mentions how you like your coffee—"black, one sugar, and hot, always hot.” The unspoken understanding that Mina being here, in this role, is exactly what it looks like.

“And one more thing,” Joy adds, stopping in front of the large windows that overlook the city. She turns to Mina, her tone casual but with an edge of amusement. “He likes his secretary to look polished. Always. Makeup, hair done, dressed appropriately. A bad appearance isn’t tolerated. But,” she glances over Mina’s outfit with an approving nod, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you.”

Mina forces a polite smile, brushing down the front of her skirt. “Got it,” she says.

Joy leads her further down the hall, showing her where the copier is, which rooms are used for what, and how to deal with the insufferable HR manager if she comes sniffing around. The tour feels endless, and Mina’s starting to wonder if she’ll remember any of it when she hears footsteps behind her.

You appear at the other end of the corridor, walking toward them with a small group of sharply dressed men. You’re talking, your tone commanding but easy, and the men hang on your every word. When you glance up and see Mina, your lips curve into a subtle smile, one only she would catch.

Mina’s breath hitches, but she composes herself, offering a small, shy smile in return.

Joy notices the exchange, of course. Her smile tightens, but she keeps moving, walking Mina back to her desk. “He’s busy, as always,” Joy remarks, gesturing toward your office. “But you’ll see. He’ll find ways to keep you occupied.” There’s no mistaking the implication in her tone.

Mina settles into her desk as the morning stretches on. She organizes papers, files emails, and starts getting into the rhythm of things. It’s nothing like what she imagined doing with her life, but then again, neither was the career she fell into before this. Compared to that, this feels… almost normal.

Almost.

The intercom on her desk buzzes, pulling her from her thoughts. Your voice comes through, smooth and firm. “Mina, coffee. Black, one sugar.”

“Yes, sir,” she replies automatically, standing and smoothing her skirt before heading to the break room.

By the time she gets to your office, the coffee steaming in her hand, she’s nervous. Not visibly so, but inside, her stomach twists slightly as she knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you call.

She steps inside, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. Your office is spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that bathe the room in light. You sit behind your desk, leaning back slightly in your chair, your jacket off, the sleeves of your crisp white shirt rolled up to your forearms.

She places the coffee on your desk, careful not to spill a drop.

“Lock the door,” you say casually, not looking up from the paper you’re skimming.

Mina hesitates for only a second before walking to the door and turning the lock. The soft click echoes in the quiet room, and when she turns back, you’re looking at her, your gaze steady and unreadable.

“Come here,” you say, gesturing her closer.

She steps around the desk, her heels sinking slightly into the plush rug as she moves toward you. When she’s within reach, you take her hand and pull her gently onto your lap.

The action surprises her, but she doesn’t resist, settling awkwardly at first before relaxing slightly against you.

“You look pretty in this outfit,” you say, your voice lower now, more intimate.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing faintly.

Your hands rest on her thighs, sliding slowly down over the smooth nylon of her pantyhose. The sensation is electric, the soft, subtle texture under your palms.

“You look better than Joy ever did,” you add, your lips curling into a small smirk.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she glances down at you. “She’s nice,” Mina says cautiously.

“She is,” you agree, your hands tightening slightly on her thighs. “But she’s not you.”

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. Your hand sliding higher on her thigh. Her lips part slightly, and you take the invitation, your tongue brushing against hers in a slow, deliberate tease.

Mina’s breath catches, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. She’s warm, soft, her perfume faint but intoxicating. You pull back just enough to look at her, her lips slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur, your voice thick.

And then you kiss her again, harder this time, pulling her closer as the world outside your office fades away.

—

Your routine with Mina shifts quickly, sliding into something that’s almost second nature. From the outside, she’s the perfect secretary—always punctual, dressed immaculately, her makeup and hair pristine, her skirts tight enough to catch eyes but not enough to scream unprofessional. Inside your office, though, she’s something else entirely. She’s your pet.

It starts subtly, a blowjob here, a lingering kiss there. But soon, it becomes routine. Every morning when she brings you coffee, Mina doesn’t just set the cup down and leave. She locks the door behind her, her heels clicking on the floor as she steps around the desk. She drops to her knees without a word, her dark eyes looking up at you as she unzips your pants.

“Good morning, boss,” she murmurs, pulling your cock free.

You smirk, leaning back in your chair as her lips wrap around the head, warm and wet and eager. She works like it’s her job—and in a way, it is. She sucks you with purpose, her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing as she takes you deeper. Her hands rest on your thighs, steadying herself as her head bobs, the slick sounds of her mouth filling the room.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, gripping the back of her head, your fingers tangling in her hair. “You love this, don’t you? My good little slut.”

She moans around you, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes you to the back of her throat. It’s every morning now. You sip your coffee while she sucks you off, her mouth working you until your grip tightens, and you thrust into her mouth. When you finally cum, she swallows every drop, her tongue sweeping over your cock before she sits back on her heels, wiping her mouth.

“Thank you, boss,” she says sweetly, standing and smoothing her skirt like nothing happened.

And if she ever forgets to call you boss? You remind her.

One day, she slips, murmuring a soft, “Sorry,” instead of “Sorry, boss.” The slap is sharp and deliberate, your palm cracking against her face. She gasps, her body jolting slightly, but when she looks back at you, there’s nothing but arousal in her eyes.

“What was that?” you ask, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at you.

“Sorry, boss,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

You smirk, brushing her hair out of her face. “That’s better.”

There’s the time you decide to train her ass, a test of how far she’s willing to go for you. You order her to bend over the desk, lifting her skirt and sliding a small plug into her tight hole. She gasps, her nails digging into the wood, but she doesn’t complain.

“You’re going to wear this all day,” you tell her, smoothing her skirt back down. “And if you’re good, I’ll take it out myself.”

She obeys, spending the entire shift with the plug buried inside her. You watch her squirm every time she sits down, the faintest wince crossing her face when she shifts in her chair. But she doesn’t complain.

When you finally call her into your office, she’s already trembling with anticipation. You bend her over the desk again, pulling her panties down and sliding the plug out slowly.

“You’ve been good today,” you murmur, positioning yourself behind her. “Now let me reward you.”

You fuck her ass slowly at first, savoring the way she clenches around you, the way she gasps and moans with every thrust. But it doesn’t take long before you’re pounding into her, your hands gripping her hips as you bury yourself deep. She screams your name, her nails scratching the surface of your desk, and when you finally cum, you watch as it leaks out of her used hole, dripping onto her thighs.

Another time, you’re both restless. You sit back in your chair, stroking yourself lazily as Mina perches on the desk, her legs spread, her fingers working her pussy.

“Look at you,” you mutter, your eyes fixed on her. “So fucking wet. You love being my little slut, don’t you?”

“Yes, boss,” she moans, her back arching as she rubs her clit faster.

When you’re both close, you tell her to get on her knees. She obeys immediately, unbuttoning her blouse and letting it hang open, exposing her small, perky tits. You stand, stroking yourself over her chest, your cock glistening with pre-cum.

“Keep still,” you command, your voice rough.

She nods, her lips parted as she watches you. When you finally cum, it’s all over her tits, thick ropes of it painting her skin. She moans softly, running her fingers through it, her eyes locked on yours.

“Good girl,” you murmur, brushing her hair out of her face.

Mina smiles up at you, her lips curving into that familiar, submissive grin that you’ve come to crave. She’s yours now—completely, unapologetically. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

The hallway is quiet, almost eerie, as you step out of your office. It’s late, the kind of late where even the overachievers have gone home. Mina left hours ago, heading home to get ready. A car is scheduled to pick her up and bring her to your place. Just the thought of seeing her tonight—her hair down, her slim body in something tight and teasing—makes you quicken your pace.

You’re halfway to the elevator when you hear the familiar click of heels behind you. You glance back and see Joy walking toward you, her bag slung over her shoulder, her stride as graceful as ever.

It’s been a while since you’ve had a proper conversation with her. She looks the same—polished and confident—but there’s something in her expression, a faint tension around her eyes, that you don’t remember being there before.

“Joy,” you greet her, pausing to let her catch up. “I was missing your pretty little face. How’s the new position treating you?”

She gives you a polite smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Fine,” she says, her tone clipped.

You frown slightly. “Fine?”

She hesitates, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. “It’s… complicated,” she says finally.

You stop walking, turning to face her fully. “Complicated how? Is someone giving you trouble?”

Joy exhales sharply, glancing away. For a moment, you think she’s going to brush it off, but then she looks back at you, her expression guarded. “It’s the rumors,” she says quietly. “The ones about us.”

Your jaw tightens. You knew the whispers were going to happen, but you thought they would fade over time, with the new distance established between you and Joy.

“They don’t have proof,” you say.

“Proof doesn’t matter,” she replies, her tone sharper now. “They think I’m only in this position because the boss fucked me. And no one takes me seriously because of it. Half of them ignore me, the other half treat me like I’m disposable. It’s exhausting.”

You knew this move would be complicated for her, but hearing it spelled out like this—knowing that the shit people are saying about her has roots in truth—it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

“Joy, I didn’t—” you start, but she cuts you off with a shake of her head.

“It’s not just you,” she says, softening a little. “It’s the whole culture around here. Women like me don’t get to just… exist in positions of power without people assuming we fucked our way there. When I got involved with you, I didn't plan on making any big leaps in this company. I wasn't being driven by interest, you know that. And it's funny that they were the ones who put me in this position… At this point, I think being fired would have been better.”

“Still,” you say, guilt creeping in, “I didn’t want it to be like this for you. If there’s anything I can do—”

She raises a hand, cutting you off again. “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it. I always do.”

There’s a pause, heavy with unspoken words, before Joy changes the subject, her tone deliberately lighter. “What about your new secretary? Mina, right? How’s she doing?”

“She’s good,” you say, nodding. “Really good, actually.”

Joy raises an eyebrow, her smirk faint but unmistakable. “Really? She doesn’t seem like the type who’d… you know… submit to the role.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Yeah. But maybe that’s why I like her.”

Joy’s smirk grows, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You really like her, huh? So, how’s she in bed? Better than me?”

You laugh, a little caught off guard by her bluntness. “She’s… amazing,” you admit, leaning in slightly. “As good as you were. Maybe even better.”

Joy laughs, the sound warm but tinged with something you can’t quite place. “You really went and hired yourself a sexdoll,” she says, shaking her head.

You shrug, smirking. “I won’t deny it.”

Her laugh fades, and her expression grows more serious. “Just be careful,” she says. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, and people are watching you. Everyone here knows she was the woman you took to that gala. And now she's suddenly here as your secretary, it's a little suspicious. No, actually, it's very suspicious. If you’re not discreet, it’s going to come back to bite you. What happened to me could happen to her.”

The warning lingers in the air, and you know she’s right. Things at the company have been tense lately. The other big names—investors, board members, even senior management—have been pushing back on you more than usual, challenging your ideas, undermining your authority. The software project you’ve poured your energy into has been warped by sudden adjustments, political interests, and compromises you never wanted to make.

For the first time in years, you feel like you’re losing control.

“Thanks for the advice,” you say finally, your tone dry but not ungrateful.

Joy nods, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she steps toward the elevator. “Take care, boss,” she says over her shoulder, her voice laced with just enough irony to make you smile.

“Goodnight, Joy,” you call after her, watching as she disappears into the elevator.

As you head to the parking garage, her words stick with you. Be careful. Be discreet. You think about Mina—her laugh, her smile, the way she looked kneeling in front of you earlier—and wonder if you’re in too deep already.

But the thought of giving her up doesn’t even cross your mind. Not for a second.

—

The dining room is cavernous, a long expanse of polished wood and shining glass. The chandelier overhead casts a warm glow, but the room still feels cold, the vast space swallowing up any sense of intimacy. At the far end of the table, it’s just you and Mina. She’s sitting quietly, her pink dress soft against her skin, matching the delicate pink collar resting at her collarbone. Her hair falls in loose waves, framing her face, and she looks up every so often to glance at you before returning to her meal.

The silence between you stretches, not quite uncomfortable but thick enough to notice. The scrape of your fork against the plate echoes in the room, and for a while, it feels like that’s the only sound.

Then, without warning, you cut through the quiet.

“You’re the only good thing happening in my life right now,” you say, your voice steady but quiet.

Mina’s head lifts, her dark eyes meeting yours across the table. For a moment, she looks surprised, but then her lips curve into a soft smile. “I’m flattered by that,” she says, her voice equally soft.

You set your fork down, leaning back slightly in your chair. “I mean it,” you continue, your gaze unwavering. “These past few months… things have been a mess. The company, the board, all these people pushing me, pulling me. It’s like I’m losing control of the one thing I thought I had a handle on. But then you… you’re here, and for once, something feels right.”

Mina’s smile deepens, her cheeks flushing faintly. “I didn’t expect that,” she says after a pause. “Especially not from you.”

You exhale, glancing down at your plate before looking back up at her. “I was hurt when you left, Mina. When you just… disappeared like that.”

Her smile fades slightly, and she lowers her gaze. “That wasn’t my intention,” she says softly.

A silence falls between you again, this one heavier, tinged with the weight of everything unsaid. Mina fidgets slightly, her fingers brushing the edge of her plate.

“I didn’t think you’d want me back,” she says suddenly, breaking the quiet. Her voice is hesitant, careful, like she’s testing the waters. “After what happened, I thought… well, that you’d move on.”

You shake your head, leaning forward now, your elbows resting on the table. “I get it,” you say simply. “Why you left. Why you thought you had to. It’s not like your reasons didn’t make sense.”

She looks up at you, and for a moment, you see something flicker in her eyes—surprise, gratitude, something warmer. “You’re the first person to ever say that,” she murmurs.

You’re not sure how to respond. Finally, you let out a quiet laugh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t even remember the last time I opened up like this to someone,” you admit, glancing around the room.

Your eyes land on the massive chandelier, the ornate decor, the sheer emptiness of the space. “This place has always felt empty,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the room. “Even with the parties, the people, the noise. It’s like… I don’t know. I built something, but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to me.”

You turn back to her, your gaze softer now. “But now… it feels a little less empty.”

Mina chuckles, the sound light but genuine, and it warms the cold edges of the room. “For a ruthless millionaire CEO,” she teases, “you’re pretty cute.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “That’s your fault,” you reply.

“Mine?” she asks, tilting her head, her smile playful.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “You come in here, looking like that, with that pink dress and that smile, and suddenly I’m a fucking open book.”

Mina laughs softly, her eyes sparkling as she looks at you. “Maybe you needed someone to read it.”

For a moment, the room doesn’t feel so big, so hollow. It feels warmer, smaller, like the space between you and Mina is all that matters. The food on the table grows colder, forgotten, as the conversation shifts to something lighter—stories, jokes and little glimpses into each other’s lives.

Tonight the mansion doesn't seem so empty after all.

—

You pace the hallway, phone pressed to your ear, your hand gripping it tightly enough to crack. The voice on the other end drones on, and you’re barely holding back the urge to snap.

“I’m telling you, this is a terrible idea,” you say, trying to keep your tone measured, though irritation seeps through. “Relocating the software development to another project? One tied to the government? You realize how much that’ll complicate everything, don’t you?”

The voice responds, and your jaw tightens further. “Yes, I get the supposed benefits,” you cut in, your words sharp. “‘Forming alliances,’ ‘building national interest’—all of that sounds great on paper. But it’s not what we’re building. This isn’t about politics or consolidating power. This is about the tech. About the future of the fucking industry.”

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a placating response that only makes you angrier.

“No, I don’t agree with the direction this is heading,” you say firmly. “We had a meeting with the car brand owners last week. They’re on board with what we pitched. Changing the focus now isn’t just reckless—it’s fucking insulting.”

The voice keeps talking, suggesting another meeting to iron things out, and you force yourself to take a deep breath. “Fine,” you bite out. “Schedule the meeting. But don’t expect me to sit back and watch this project get gutted for the sake of optics.”

You hang up before they can say anything else, your frustration simmering just below the surface. It feels like the walls are closing in lately, your authority being chipped away piece by piece. Everyone thinks they know better, thinks they can twist your vision to suit their agendas.

You exhale hard, running a hand through your hair as you walk toward your room. You’re still stewing in irritation as you push the door open, but the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks.

Mina stands near your dresser, her back to you, her fingers lightly brushing over some of the items there. She’s already taken off the pink dress, leaving her in matching pink lingerie that clings to her slim frame like it was made for her. The pink collar around her neck—soft and delicate—catches the light, completing the vision.

For a moment, you just stare, your irritation fading as your eyes trace the curves of her body. She looks unreal, something out of a dream, her small, perky breasts barely hidden by the lace of her bra, her long legs leading down to those perfectly arched heels she always wears.

You close the door quietly, stepping closer. “Mina,” you say softly.

She jumps slightly, startled, turning to look at you. Her cheeks flush when she sees you staring, but she doesn’t move, her hands dropping to her sides.

“You look beautiful,” you murmur, stepping behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. You kiss her shoulder, your lips lingering against her warm skin.

“Thank you,” she says shyly. “I… I like your room.”

You chuckle lightly, glancing around at the sleek, modern space—floor-to-ceiling windows, dark wood, and minimalist furniture that cost more than some people’s cars. “It’s no big deal,” you say, though you know damn well it is.

She shakes her head slightly, smiling. “No, it’s… amazing. Like you.”

Your hands tighten on her waist, and you kiss her neck, drawing a soft sigh from her lips. “You’re the amazing one,” you say against her skin.

She turns slightly, looking up at you. “Is everything okay?”

You hesitate, the earlier frustration flickering back to life for a moment. “No,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

She nods, her expression soft with understanding. “Okay.”

You take her hand, leading her to the center of the room. When you reach the bed, you open one of the drawers, pulling out a length of smooth, dark rope.

“Are you ready?” you ask, your tone low and steady.

“Yes,” she replies, her voice trembling slightly but full of trust.

“Good,” you say, setting the rope on the bed. “Take off your panties.”

First, she takes off her heels, then she moves without hesitation, her hands hooking into the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her legs. She steps out of them carefully, then stands there, exposed, her hands clasped in front of her.

You pick up the rope, stepping behind her again. Gently, but firmly, you guide her hands behind her back, binding her wrists with practiced ease. The rope is snug but not tight, wrapping around her slim wrists in neat, secure knots.

“You look perfect like this,” you murmur, running a hand down her side.

She shivers under your touch, her breathing quickening as you move to the drawer again, pulling out a small vibrator. You kneel in front of her, the sight of her bare pussy inches from your face making your cock twitch. You press the tip of the vibrator against her entrance, teasing her, and she gasps softly, her hips shifting instinctively. then slowly you push it deep inside her until it is firmly lodged in her tight pussy.

“On your knees,” you command, standing and stepping back.

She sinks to the floor gracefully, her bound hands resting against the curve of her back, her dark eyes gazing up at you. You start unbuttoning your shirt, slowly, your eyes never leaving hers.

“Lately,” you say, your tone conversational but tinged with bitterness, “my orders and decisions have been questioned. At work. Everyone thinks they know better than me.”

Mina’s lips part slightly, her gaze flicking over your chest as you shrug off the shirt.

“I hope you don’t plan on doing that,” you add, unbuckling your belt with a sharp clink of metal.

Her voice is soft but steady. “No, sir. I’ll do whatever you tell me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

You smirk, tossing the belt aside. “Good girl,” you murmur, unzipping your pants and letting them fall to the floor. You're not wearing any underwear.

Her eyes widen slightly when you step closer, her gaze dropping to the hard, thick length of your cock. She licks her lips unconsciously, and the sight of her, bound and kneeling, sends a jolt of heat straight through you.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you mutter, reaching down to stroke her cheek.

She’s the picture of surrender—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and a gaze that flickers between nervousness and pure, unfiltered lust.

You take a step closer, your cock brushing against her face. Mina doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans into it slightly, her lips parting as a soft sigh escapes her.

“Stay still,” you murmur, your voice low and steady.

She nods faintly, her breath warm against your skin. Slowly, you drag your cock across her cheek, letting the weight of it rest there for a moment. The contrast of your hard flesh against her soft skin makes your pulse quicken.

“You feel that?” you ask, your tone conversational but commanding.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“Good.” You run your cock along her jawline, then back to her lips, watching as they part instinctively, a faint sheen of spit forming as she breathes heavily.

Her cheeks are flushed, her dark eyes darting up to meet yours. You see the hunger there, the submission, the way she’s completely at your mercy.

“Things are changing,” you say, your voice soft but deliberate. “I’m about to do something I should’ve done a long time ago. I didn’t have the right reason. Or maybe I didn’t have the right person.”

You let the head of your cock rest against her lips for a moment, watching the way she shivers.

“But now I do,” you continue, dragging it across her cheek again, slower this time. “I think I need this. I need someone who listens. Someone who understands me. Someone like you.”

Mina leans into the touch, her lips pressing soft kisses against the side of your cock. Her voice is quiet but sincere when she speaks. “You understand me too,” she says, her words muffled by your skin. “No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. When I’m with you, I feel… surrendered. Like I can let go.”

Her confession is soft, hesitant, but you can hear the weight of it.

“And that scared you,” you say, your tone sharpening slightly. “That’s why you ran.”

She nods, still kissing your cock, her lips trailing along the shaft. “I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers. “I’d never felt like this before. But I’m not scared now.”

You tilt her chin up slightly, making her look at you. “Good,” you murmur. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

She nods again, her lips brushing against you as she speaks. “I trust you. That’s why I want you to ruin me tonight.”

Her words send a surge of heat straight through you, your cock twitching against her lips.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stepping back just enough to grab the vibrator control.

You flick it on, starting on the lowest setting, and she gasps softly, her thighs trembling as the soft hum fills the air.

“There,” you say, your voice low and teasing. “Something to keep you focused.”

Mina whimpers, her hips shifting slightly, but she stays still, her eyes locked on yours.

“Now,” you command, stepping closer, letting your cock rest against her lips again. “Suck.”

She obeys immediately, her lips parting as she takes the head of your cock into her mouth. Her tongue flicks out, swirling around the tip, her movements slow and deliberate. The wet heat of her mouth makes you groan softly, your hand moving to the back of her head.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice thick with arousal. “Just like that.”

She takes you deeper, her tongue pressing against the underside of your cock as her lips slide down the shaft.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, your hand tightening in her hair. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She moans around your cock, the sound vibrating through you, sending a jolt straight to your core. Her pace quickens slightly, her head bobbing as she works her mouth over you, her tongue teasing every sensitive spot.

Your free hand moves to her cheek, your thumb brushing over the flushed skin as you watch her. The way she looks up at you, her lips stretched around your cock, her eyes glassy with lust, is enough to drive you mad.

“Take it deeper,” you command, your voice rough.

She does, her lips sliding further down, the head of your cock pressing against the back of her throat. She gags slightly but doesn’t pull back, her nails digging into her bound wrists as she steadies herself.

“That’s it,” you growl, your hand tightening in her hair. “Take it all, Mina. Be my good girl.”

She moans again, her throat tightening around you as she swallows, the wet sounds filling the room. You can feel her thighs trembling from the vibrator, but she doesn’t stop, her mouth working you with a determination that leaves you breathless.

The sound of the vibrator hums softly between you, its rhythm pulsing in sync with the wet, obscene sounds of Mina’s mouth as she works your cock. She’s kneeling, completely at your mercy, her hands bound behind her back, her head bobbing up and down with a messy, desperate determination. Her lips stretch around your thick shaft, spit dripping down her chin, mixing with her moans as she chokes and gags on you.

You tighten your grip on the vibrator, clicking it up a notch. The sound shifts slightly, sharper, more insistent, and Mina’s body jolts. Her thighs quiver, her pussy clenching around the toy as the stronger vibrations hit her, and she lets out a muffled moan around your cock.

“Feel that?” you murmur. “That’s for you, baby. To remind you who you belong to.”

Mina nods weakly, her eyes watering as she tries to take more of you, her throat constricting as she gags again. The heat of her mouth, the tightness of her lips, the way she lets you use her—it’s perfect. She’s perfect.

“Fuck, Mina,” you growl, tilting your head back for a second before looking down at her again. “Look at you. Such a messy little thing. You’re addicted, aren’t you? Addicted to my cock.”

She whimpers, her moans vibrating against you as her tongue swirls around your shaft. You grab her hair, pulling her back slightly so the head of your cock rests on her tongue, glistening and slick. She looks up at you with glassy, lust-blown eyes, her lips swollen and dripping with spit.

“Say it,” you command, your tone sharp.

“I’m addicted,” she gasps, her voice hoarse from choking. “I’m addicted to your cock, boss. Please, let me have it. Let me taste all of it.”

You chuckle darkly, sliding your cock back into her mouth. “Good girl,” you murmur, thrusting shallowly into her. “Take it. Take every inch like the good little fuckdoll you are.”

You start moving your hips, slow at first but quickly picking up speed, fucking her mouth with deliberate, controlled thrusts. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t pull away—instead, she leans into it, her throat relaxing as much as it can to take you deeper. The slick, wet sounds of her sloppy blowjob echo through the room, mixing with the sharper hum of the vibrator still buried in her pussy.

You glance down, watching the way her chest heaves as she struggles to keep up, spit pooling at the corners of her mouth and dripping onto her knees. She’s completely wrecked, completely yours, and the sight makes your cock throb with barely-contained need.

“You like this, don’t you?” you growl, pulling her head down further so your cock presses against the back of her throat. “Being used like this. Being my little toy.”

Mina moans around you, her eyes rolling back slightly as the vibrations between her legs push her closer to the edge. Her body trembles, her bound hands flexing uselessly behind her as she gives herself over to you completely.

“That’s right,” you mutter, watching her choke on your cock. “You don’t need to think. Just open that pretty little mouth and let me use you.”

You thrust harder, holding her head in place as you fuck her mouth with abandon. She gags again, tears streaming down her cheeks, she moans louder, her body shivering as the vibrator sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“You’re such a slut for me,” you growl, your voice tight with control as you keep moving. “My perfect little whore. You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

Mina nods frantically, her moans growing more desperate as she gags again, your cock sliding deeper into her throat. Her whole body is shaking now, the vibrations pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You don’t get to cum,” you growl, pulling her head back slightly so she can breathe, her lips still wrapped around the tip of your cock. “Not until I say so.”

She whimpers, nodding weakly. Your cock glistens, coated in a mix of her spit and your pre-cum, while Mina kneels before you, completely wrecked. Her face is a mess—drool dripping from her chin, streaks of it running down her chest, pooling at the curve of her collarbones. Her lips are red and swollen, parted as she gasps for air, and her dark eyes are glossy, wide, and brimming with need.

You pull the vibrator from between her legs and click it off, the sudden silence deafening in the room. Mina trembles, her bound hands flexing behind her back as she tries to steady herself.

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask, your voice low but firm, your tone sharp enough to demand an honest answer.

Her head shakes frantically, her words spilling out in broken, desperate gasps. “No, please, don’t stop. Don’t stop. I need more.”

Your cock twitches at her plea. This is what you love about her—that insatiable drive, the way she pushes herself, the way she matches your own hunger to ruin and be ruined. She’s perfect, absolutely fucking perfect.

A smirk tugs at your lips as you click the vibrator back on—not at the soft hum of earlier, but at full blast. The sound cuts through the room like a sharp blade, and Mina jerks, her body trembling violently as the powerful vibrations slam into her.

She moans loudly, her thighs shaking as she struggles to keep herself steady, but you don’t give her the chance to adjust. You grip your cock and guide it back to her mouth, sliding past her parted lips before she can even try to take control.

“I’ll handle this,” you growl, your voice thick with dominance.

Mina whimpers around you, the vibrations pushing her closer to the edge as she struggles to keep up. Her throat tightens instinctively, the sound of her gagging mixed with the muffled moans spilling from her. She’s a fucking mess—her body trembling, drool pouring from her lips, soaking your cock as she tries to keep up with your relentless thrusts.

“That’s it,” you growl, your hands gripping her hair tightly. “Let me use that pretty mouth. You love it, don’t you? Being treated like this.”

She moans her agreement, the sound muffled but desperate, and her throat convulses around you as you push deeper. Her whole body is shaking now, writhing with the overwhelming force of the vibrator as it pulls her closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” you mutter, your hips slamming forward as you fuck her mouth harder. “Look at you, trembling like this, gagging on my cock. You want me to ruin you, don’t you?”

Mina’s muffled moans rise in pitch, her body jerking uncontrollably as her orgasm starts to crest.

Just as her thighs clench and her muffled cries grow louder, you pull out of her mouth and click the vibrator off again.

Her head snaps up, her lips glossy and swollen as she gasps for air. Her chest heaves, her body trembling, and she moans loudly, frustration dripping from her voice. “Please, I—oh god—I was so close! I was going to cum, it’s so strong—please let me!”

You shake your head, smirking as you cup her jaw and make her look at you. “You don’t get to cum yet,” you say firmly. “Not until I say so.”

She whimpers, her entire body quivering with pent-up need, but she doesn’t argue. You release her jaw, stepping back. “Get up,” you command.

Mina obeys, her legs shaking as she rises to her feet. Her eyes are glossy with frustration, her body a wreck of sweat, spit, and arousal, but she doesn’t hesitate.

You pull the vibrator from her pussy, the toy dripping wet, her slick coating your fingers and her inner thighs. You look at her, smirking at the state she’s in. “You’re soaked,” you say, your voice filled with amusement.

She doesn’t respond, her lips trembling as she waits for your next order.

“Go to the bed,” you command, your tone sharp.

She stumbles slightly as she turns, her legs unsteady, and you follow behind her as she moves to the bed. When she reaches it, you place a hand on her shoulder and push her down. She falls forward, landing on her stomach, her bound hands pressed against the small of her back.

“Stick your ass out,” you growl, stepping closer.

Mina obeys, lifting her hips off the mattress, her face pressed into the sheets as her ass arches into the air. She’s completely exposed to you, her pussy glistening, her thighs trembling with the effort to hold herself steady.

You step closer, your cock throbbing as you grip her hips, positioning yourself behind her. “You look so fucking good like this,” you mutter, dragging the tip of your cock through her folds. “Completely ruined. Completely mine.”

You waste no time. As soon as your cock lines up with her soaked, swollen entrance, you thrust into her hard, burying yourself to the hilt in one brutal motion. Mina screams out, the sound muffled by the mattress as her pussy clenches tight around you, still hypersensitive from the vibrator. The heat, the slickness—it’s almost overwhelming, and for a second, you have to remind yourself not to lose control too soon.

“Fuck,” you growl, gripping her bound wrists tightly. “You’re so fucking tight, Mina. So wet for me.”

Her moans come fast and loud, her voice trembling as she presses her cheek into the sheets, her body writhing beneath you. “It’s all for you,” she gasps, her words barely coherent. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” you snarl, pulling back just enough to slam into her again, harder this time.

Your pace is relentless, every thrust driving into her soaked, pink pussy with an unforgiving rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with her breathless moans and the creak of the bed.

Your grip on her wrists tightens as you use them to pull her back onto your cock, forcing her to take every inch. Mina cries out, her body arching as the force of your movements sends shivers down her spine.

“You like this, don’t you?” you growl, leaning forward slightly, your chest grazing her back. “Being fucked like this. Rough. Hard.”

“Yes!” she screams, her voice muffled by the sheets. “I love it. I love how rough you are with me.”

Her confession only spurs you on, your hips slamming into her harder, your cock hitting her deepest spots with every thrust. You release one of her wrists, your now-free hand sliding down her back to grab her ass.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” you mutter, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. “Taking me like this. So desperate to be ruined.”

She moans in response, her body trembling as your fingers dig into her skin. Then, without warning, you raise your hand and bring it down on her ass with a sharp slap.

Mina cries out, her voice high and broken, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she arches her back further, presenting herself to you like the obedient little slut she is.

“That’s what I thought,” you mutter, spanking her again, harder this time.

The sound echoes through the room, sharp and satisfying, and you watch as a red handprint blooms across her pale skin. You don’t give her time to recover before you spank her again, and again, alternating between cheeks until both are flushed and burning.

“You like that?” you growl, your hand coming down on her ass once more. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she moans, her voice trembling with desperation. “I love it. Please, more. Don’t stop.”

Her pussy tightens around you, her walls clenching rhythmically as her pleasure builds. She’s close, so close, and you can feel it in the way her body shudders with every thrust.

“Look at you,” you mutter, gripping her ass tightly, your fingers digging into the soft, reddened skin. “A fucking mess. My mess. You’re not cumming yet, though. Not until I say so.”

Mina whimpers, her legs trembling as you drive into her harder, deeper, your cock stretching her perfectly. “Please,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “Please, I’m so close. I can’t take it.”

“You’ll take whatever I give you,” you snap, spanking her again for good measure. “Now shut up and keep moaning for me.”

Her cries grow louder, her voice hoarse from screaming, but she doesn’t argue. She just takes it, her body shaking with need, her pussy dripping onto your cock as you pound into her without mercy.

Your hands grip Mina's burning, reddened ass, the color matching the flushed glow of her skin. She’s a mess, writhing beneath you as you fuck her relentlessly, every sharp thrust dragging high-pitched moans and gasps from her throat. Her pussy clings to you, wet and tight, taking you so perfectly that it’s driving you insane.

“Oh god,” she sobs into the mattress, her voice cracking. “Your cock… it’s so fucking thick. I can feel everything. You fuck me so good—so fucking good. Please, don’t stop.”

Her words only push you further, your nails digging into the raw heat of her ass. You squeeze the soft flesh hard, watching it bounce each time your hips slam into her. The sight, the sounds, the feel of her—all of it has you teetering on the edge of control.

“You’re addicted, aren’t you?” you growl, your voice low and dangerous. “Addicted to my cock, to the way I ruin you.”

“Yes!” she screams, her body arching beneath you. “I’m addicted! I fucking love it! I love the way you fuck me!”

Her cries are music to your ears, her submission feeding your hunger. You thrust harder, your pace brutal and unforgiving, and Mina whimpers, her head turning to the side as tears of pleasure streak down her flushed cheeks.

“Good girl,” you snarl, delivering one final, violent thrust before pulling out. Mina lets out a desperate gasp at the loss, but before she can say anything, you grab her by the hips and flip her onto her back.

Her bound hands press awkwardly into the small of her back, but she doesn’t complain. Her legs fall open instinctively, her swollen, glistening pussy on full display, her thighs trembling from the pounding you’ve already given her.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. She looks up at you with glassy, tear-filled eyes, her lips parted, her entire body trembling. She’s completely wrecked, a vision of perfect submission.

“You look so fucking ruined,” you mutter, gripping her thighs as you press your cock back into her soaked heat.

Mina cries out as you fill her again, her body arching as your cock stretches her tight pussy. You waste no time, slamming into her with the same ferocity as before, her bound hands shifting awkwardly beneath her but neither of you caring.

“Look at me,” you command, your voice sharp.

Her eyes snap to yours, wide and desperate, her lips trembling as she moans incoherently.

“Look at me as you cum,” you growl, leaning over her, your hands gripping her waist tightly as you fuck her harder, deeper. “I want to see your fucking face when you fall apart.”

Mina’s face is a mess, streaked with tears and drool, her lips swollen and glossy. Her moans grow louder, more broken, her words slurring as the pleasure overwhelms her.

“You,” she gasps suddenly, her voice trembling as she tries to speak. “You're gonna—”

You lean over her, cutting her off with a sharp slap across the face. The sound echoes through the room, her head snapping to the side.

“Call me boss,” you snarl, your hand gripping her chin and forcing her to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” she moans, her voice high and shaky. “I’m sorry, boss.”

“Good girl,” you growl, your lips curling into a wicked smirk. “Now keep taking it.”

Your thrusts grow faster, harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. Mina’s cries reach a fever pitch, her bound hands twitching uselessly behind her as her body trembles violently.

“I’m close,” she sobs, her voice breaking. “Boss, I’m so fucking close. Please, let me cum.”

“Not yet,” you snap, your grip on her waist tightening as you slam into her with brutal precision. “Not until I say so.”

Her face contorts with pleasure, her mouth open in a silent scream as her entire body tenses beneath you. She’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close to release, but you’re not letting her go yet.

Your thrusts are relentless, pounding into Mina with all the force you can muster. Her bound hands dig into the mattress beneath her, her face turned to the side, tears streaking her cheeks as her cries fill the room. She’s a vision of complete surrender—her trembling body stretched beneath you, her pussy soaking wet and clenching tight around your cock, her flushed skin glistening with sweat.

As you maintain your brutal rhythm, your free hand moves down between her legs, your fingers finding her swollen, throbbing clit. The moment you touch her, Mina jerks violently, her moan rising into a sharp, desperate wail.

“No, please,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she writhes beneath you. “I—I can’t. I’m too sensitive. I can’t take it—”

“You can take it,” you growl, cutting her off as you rub her clit with deliberate, teasing circles. “You’ll take everything I give you, Mina. You always do.”

She sobs, her body bucking against you as your fingers press harder, rolling her sensitive nub between them in perfect time with your deep, punishing thrusts. She’s completely at your mercy, unable to move, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations tearing through her.

“Look at you,” you mutter, your voice low and rough. “Writhing like this, begging me to stop, but your pussy’s clenching so fucking tight around me. You love this, don’t you? Being completely mine.”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice hoarse and desperate. “Yes, I love it. I love how you ruin me. Please—please, I’m so close. I can’t hold it—”

“Don’t,” you snap, your tone sharp and commanding. “Not until I tell you to.”

Mina’s head thrashes against the mattress, her cries growing louder as your fingers work her clit faster, your cock slamming into her with unrelenting force. Her body trembles violently, her thighs shaking as she teeters on the edge, her bound hands clawing uselessly at the sheets.

“Boss,” she sobs, tears streaming down her reddened eyes. “Please—please, let me cum. I’m begging you.”

You slow your thrusts just enough to lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “Cum for me,” you growl, your voice like a trigger pulling her apart.

The moment the words leave your mouth, Mina breaks.

Her body arches off the bed, her mouth falling open in a scream so loud it nearly echoes. Her pussy clenches hard around you, and then it happens—a sudden, powerful jet of liquid sprays from her, soaking the sheets beneath her.

“Fuck,” you groan, pulling your cock out just in time to watch the next jet shoot out, her thighs trembling as more streams of liquid gush from her.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your voice thick with awe as you rub her clit harder. “Keep going. Cum for me. Let it all out.”

Mina convulses beneath you, her body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. Her sobs mix with her moans, her face twisted in pure ecstasy as more jets of liquid spray from her, soaking the bed and your thighs.

You guide her through it, your fingers never leaving her clit, your voice a steady command in her ear. “That’s it,” you growl. “More. I want more.”

Her screams grow louder as her body obeys, her pussy releasing another powerful jet, soaking everything beneath her. She’s a mess—tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving, her entire body trembling as she squirts uncontrollably, completely at your mercy.

When her squirts finally slow, her body collapses onto the bed, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. Her hands remain bound behind her, her face turned to the side, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She’s completely ruined, her thighs slick with wetness, the bed beneath her drenched.

You brush a strand of hair from her flushed face, leaning down to kiss her cheek softly. “You’re incredible,” you murmur, your voice softer now. “Absolutely perfect.”

Mina doesn’t respond, too wrecked to speak, but the faint, satisfied smile on her lips tells you everything you need to know.

You’re far from done with Mina. She might be lying there on the bed, ruined and panting, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm that just ripped through her—but she’s not finished.

You climb off the bed, ignoring her soft, ragged breaths, and pick up the vibrator from where it landed on the floor. It’s slick with her arousal, glistening in the dim light, and you turn it over in your hand as you glance back at her.

When you return to the bed, she looks up at you through hazy, tear-filled eyes, confusion flickering across her face. “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice hoarse, her body twitching involuntarily.

You smirk, climbing onto the bed and pressing the vibrator against her sensitive, overstimulated pussy. “You’ll finish,” you murmur, your tone sharp and commanding, “when I’m done with you.”

Before she can protest, you flick the vibrator back on, setting it to its highest intensity. The sudden jolt of vibrations against her oversensitive clit makes her cry out, her back arching as her legs tremble violently.

“Wait—please, I can’t—” she gasps, but her words dissolve into a strangled moan as the relentless vibrations assault her already wrecked nerves.

“You can,” you say, your voice low and firm, pressing the vibrator deeper against her slick folds. “You will.”

Her cries are desperate, her body squirming beneath you as the toy pushes her to the brink again. But you’re not just here to watch her unravel—you’re here to take her completely.

You straddle her chest, your cock thick and heavy as it hovers just above her face. “Open your mouth,” you command, gripping the base and stroking it slowly.

Mina obeys immediately, her lips parting as her teary, lust-filled eyes meet yours. You guide your cock into her mouth, the warm, wet heat of her lips wrapping around you like they were made for this.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice thick with pleasure as she takes you in.

The combination of the vibrator and your cock is too much for her, her body trembling violently beneath you. Her moans vibrate against your cock as she sucks desperately, her tongue swirling around the shaft, her lips stretching to accommodate your size.

“That’s it,” you growl, your hand gripping her hair tightly. “Suck me like the good little slut you are.”

Mina moans in response, the sound muffled but filled with desperation. Her face contorts with pleasure and sensitivity as the vibrator continues its assault, her cries muffled by your cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

You thrust slowly at first, savoring the sight of her—her flushed cheeks, her teary eyes, her lips glistening with spit and pre-cum. But as your own pleasure builds, you start to lose control, your hips moving faster, your cock hitting the back of her throat with every thrust.

“You look so fucking perfect like this,” you mutter, watching her face contort with overstimulation as the vibrator continues its relentless work. “Sucking my cock while you’re falling apart. You’re mine, Mina. Every fucking inch of you is mine.”

She moans again, her cries muffled as her body shakes beneath you. You can feel her reaching her limit, her desperation palpable, and just as her tears start to spill freely down her cheeks, you pull your cock from her mouth.

Mina gasps for air, her chest heaving as she looks up at you with glassy, tear-streaked eyes. But even now, with her face red and soaked with tears, she’s still begging.

“Please,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “Please, cum for me. I need it. I need you to cum.”

Her plea sends a jolt of heat straight through you, and you stroke yourself harder, faster, your cock slick and throbbing as you hover over her ruined face.

“Fuck,” you groan, your breath hitching as you reach your peak.

The first thick rope of cum hits her cheek, warm and sticky against her flushed skin. Mina moans loudly, her lips parting as her tongue flicks out instinctively, trying to catch the next spurt. You oblige, aiming for her mouth, her lips, her chin, painting her with each powerful burst.

“God, Mina,” you mutter, your voice low and raw as you watch your cum drip down her face, mixing with her tears and spit. “You look so fucking good like this. Completely fucking ruined.”

She moans softly, her body still trembling as the vibrator finally pushes her over the edge again. Another sharp cry escapes her lips as her hips buck uncontrollably, her legs shaking as she rides out the intense waves of pleasure.

You reach down, finally flicking the vibrator off, and Mina collapses against the bed, her chest heaving, her face still glistening with cum.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and filled with exhaustion.

You lean down, brushing a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead as you admire her. She’s a mess—tear-streaked, cum-covered, and completely wrecked. And she’s perfect.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, the blue light from the screen casting a faint glow over the room. The meeting’s scheduled. The weight of it settles on your shoulders like a slow, creeping ache. You toss the phone onto the bed, letting it bounce to the side, and drop your head into your hands.

The company, the decisions, the scrutiny—it’s like the walls are closing in, and you’re stuck, watching as everything you built gets twisted into something you barely recognize.

You don’t hear her at first, the soft padding of her bare feet on the carpet. It’s not until her arms wrap around you from behind, her warmth pressing into your back, that you lift your head.

“Hey,” Mina says softly, her voice gentle. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, leaning into her touch. “Not really.”

She steps around you, her delicate hands sliding to your shoulders as she kneels in front of you. She looks incredible, even now, wearing the pink nightgown you bought for her. The soft fabric clings to her slim frame, the lace teasing at the swell of her breasts. The matching pink collar rests against her collarbone, the glow of it almost distracting enough to make you forget the storm in your head.

But not quite.

Her dark eyes search yours, full of concern. “What’s wrong?”

You rub the back of your neck, exhaling slowly. “Everything feels… off. This business, this company—it’s not what it used to be. Priorities have shifted. People care more about playing politics than innovation. And I let it happen.”

She shakes her head, squeezing your shoulders gently. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” you say firmly. “I made bad calls along the way. I compromised when I shouldn’t have. Now we’re here, and it feels like I can’t fix it.”

Mina frowns, her hands sliding up to cup your face. “You built this empire practically from nothing,” she says, her voice steady but soft. “You took an idea and turned it into something the entire world knows about. That’s not nothing.”

You lean into her touch, your jaw tightening as her words sink in. “Do you really think I can do it again?”

She nods without hesitation, her eyes shining with certainty. “I do. The more time I spend with you, the more I am impressed by your talent. Your mind, the way you think, the way you create—none of that’s gone. No one can take that away from you. You’re the reason this exists. And you can do it again, if that’s what you want.”

Her words stir something inside you, a small flicker of hope in the middle of all the noise. You reach up, gently taking her hand in yours, and press a kiss to her palm.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice quieter now. “For being here. For… everything.”

Mina smiles, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. “Always,” she says softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You shift slightly, leaning forward to meet her gaze more closely. “How about you? How are you feeling?”

She laughs lightly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Tired,” she admits, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You were a little hard on me today.”

A low chuckle escapes you, some of the weight lifting as you smirk at her. “I was, wasn’t I?” you say, your tone playful. “I can’t help it. Seeing you like that… so obedient, so submissive. It makes me lose my mind.”

Mina’s blush deepens, but she doesn’t look away. “It’s okay,” she says, her smile softening. “I like it. And I expect more of it.”

You grin, leaning closer until your forehead nearly brushes hers. “As long as you stay by my side, you’ll have all that and more,” you murmur.

Her breath catches slightly, her lips parting as your hand cups her cheek. You close the gap, your lips meeting hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s softer than earlier, less frantic, but no less intense. There’s a tenderness to it, a quiet understanding passing between you as her hands slide up to rest on your chest.

When you finally pull back, you rest your forehead against hers, your voice low. “You’re everything, Mina. Don’t forget that.”

She smiles, her hands tightening slightly on your shirt. “I won’t,” she whispers. “And neither will you.”

For the first time all night, the chaos in your mind quiets, replaced by the steady presence of her. And in that moment, nothing else matters.

—

Two months of chaos. That’s what it took to pull yourself free from the machine you’d spent years building. Contracts to review, lawyers to meet with, and an endless stream of bureaucratic bullshit. Resignation letters, termination agreements, negotiations about what you could and couldn’t take with you. Every step was a battle, but you played it perfectly.

The car software—your brainchild, your vision—was never officially signed over or patented under the company’s name. That little loophole became your salvation. It gave you the leverage to walk out the door with your idea intact, no strings attached. And in the process, you secured the interest of three key players in the automotive industry, three brand owners who were already circling the idea like sharks in bloody water.

You’re at your desk, your laptop open as you finalize another email to your lawyers, ensuring every loose end is tied up. Your focus is sharp, but the tension lingers in your shoulders. The future’s uncertain, but it’s yours.

What you don’t expect is for the door to your office to fly open.

You flinch slightly, your head snapping up as an executive storms in, his face red with irritation. He doesn’t even knock.

“What the hell is this?” he demands, his voice sharp as he throws a folder onto your desk. “You’re taking the entire car software project with you? You’re gutting us for your new company?”

Your eyes narrow, your jaw tightening as you sit back in your chair. “First off,” you say coolly, “you’re in my office. Uninvited. Do you not know how to knock?”

He glares at you, but you don’t flinch.

“Second,” you continue, “everything I’m taking is mine. Legally. I created it, and your precious contracts never signed it away. So yeah, I’m taking what’s mine. Don’t like it? Take it up with my lawyers.”

The man’s hands ball into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t say another word. He knows he has nothing to stand on. With a final, furious glare, he turns on his heel and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

The room goes quiet, and you exhale, leaning back in your chair. Beneath your desk, Mina shifts slightly, her movement brushing against your thighs.

“He’s gone,” you say, glancing down.

Mina looks up at you, her cheeks flushed, her lips shiny. Your pants are pushed down around your thighs, and her small hands rest lightly on your legs as she kneels there, her body hidden from anyone who might’ve walked in.

“You should have locked the door,” you mutter, your tone half-annoyed, half-amused.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she pulls back just enough to say, “I’m sorry, boss. I forgot.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “It’s fine,” you say. “Just don’t forget next time.”

“Yes, boss,” she says softly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips before she leans back in, taking your cock into her mouth again.

The warm, wet heat of her mouth makes you groan softly, your hand resting lightly on the back of her head as she starts to move, her tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down the shaft.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice low. “Now, where was I?”

Mina hums softly around your cock, her eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks you with slow, deliberate movements.

You lean back slightly, your hand stroking her hair as you speak. “I’ve been talking to Joy,” you say casually. “She’s going to work for me at the new company.”

Mina pauses, pulling your cock from her mouth with a soft pop. “That’s great,” she says, her voice breathy but cheerful. “I like Joy.”

You smirk, brushing a thumb over her flushed cheek. “She’ll be good for this. She’s sharp, and she knows how I work.”

Mina nods, her smile widening slightly before she leans back in, taking you into her mouth again. Her pace quickens slightly, her hands resting on your thighs as her lips slide up and down your shaft, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside.

You groan, your fingers tightening in her hair as you guide her movements. “And you,” you murmur, looking down at her. “You’re going to stay by my side through all of this, aren’t you?”

Mina moans softly around your cock, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you. She doesn’t pull back this time, doesn’t speak—she just nods, her dark eyes locking onto yours as she sucks you with growing intensity.

“Good,” you mutter, your voice rough. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mina’s warm, wet mouth moves expertly over your cock, her tongue swirling around the head before sliding down your shaft. Her hands grip your thighs lightly, steadying herself as she works, her soft moans vibrating against your skin. You lean back in your chair, one hand resting on the desk, the other buried in her hair, guiding her rhythm.

“Deeper,” you mutter, tightening your grip on her hair. “Take it all, Mina.”

She hums softly, her lips stretching further as she pushes down, her throat tightening around you. A guttural groan escapes your lips as her gag reflex flutters slightly, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

“That’s it, good girl,” you say, your voice thick with arousal. “God, you’ve gotten so good at this.”

Her dark eyes flick up to meet yours, glistening with tears from the effort, and the sight of her—completely submissive, completely yours—fuels you.

“Let’s talk plans,” you say, your tone shifting just slightly, though your voice is still rough. “Start small. The new company needs to earn trust first—no overreaching. I’ve already got three brands interested. They see the potential in the software, and that’s the hook. But we’ll grow slow, steady.”

Mina doesn’t stop, her head bobbing up and down as her lips glide over your cock, her spit slick and warm. You can barely focus on your own words, her mouth feels so fucking good.

“Joy will be a big help,” you continue, your grip tightening slightly in her hair as you guide her down further. “She knows how this industry works, and she’s sharp as hell. With her managing operations, I can focus on building relationships with the brands. The software’s going to change the market. They’ll see that soon enough.”

Mina pulls back slightly, her lips glistening as she catches her breath. “Joy’s smart,” she says softly, her voice hoarse but sincere. “She’ll do great.”

“You’ll keep your role too,” you say, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “You’ve learned so much already, Mina. You’ve picked it up faster than I expected. You’re doing an amazing job.”

Her lips curl into a small smile, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Thank you, boss,” she murmurs, her voice low. Then, without warning, she leans lower, her tongue flicking out to tease your balls.

“Fuck,” you groan, your head tilting back as her warm tongue licks a slow, deliberate path. She takes her time, her mouth soft and teasing, her hands still resting on your thighs.

“You really do know how to keep me happy,” you mutter, your voice strained as she sucks one of your balls into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it.

She hums softly in response, the vibration sending shivers through you.

“All the papers are talking about it,” you say, your words a little rushed now as you struggle to focus through the haze of pleasure. “This whole move—it’s bold, radical. People are calling it insane. But fuck, the adrenaline… it’s good. Keeps me sharp.”

Mina pulls back with a soft pop, her tongue flicking over her lips as she shifts back to your cock. She wraps her lips around the head, sucking softly, her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside.

You groan loudly, your hand tightening in her hair as your hips lift slightly, pushing deeper into her mouth. “Mina,” you mutter, your voice low and rough. “You’re so fucking good at this. Keep going. I’m almost there.”

She moans softly around your cock, the sound vibrating against you as she sucks harder, her rhythm quickening. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with lust and submission.

“Don’t stop,” you growl, your grip firm as you guide her movements. “Fuck, I’m so close. Just keep doing what you’re doing, baby. You’re perfect.”

Mina’s pace quickens, her lips gliding over your cock with obscene precision. Every movement is deliberate, calculated, as if she’s determined to milk every ounce of pleasure from you. Her mouth is warm, wet, and relentless, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside with every deep, eager stroke.

“Fuck, Mina,” you groan, your head tilting back slightly as you grip her hair tighter.

Her moans vibrate around you, her hands joining the effort as she strokes the base of your cock in rhythm with her mouth. She’s messy, spit dripping down her chin, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks harder. The sound of her sucking is loud, lewd, and perfect, filling the room and mixing with your heavy breaths.

The pleasure is overwhelming, growing with every second, every flick of her tongue. She pulls back briefly, her lips red and glistening, her hand still stroking you as she looks up at you through her lashes.

“Cum for me,” she whispers, her voice breathy and thick with desire. “I want it in my mouth. Please, boss. Let me taste you.”

The way she asks—so full of need, so desperate—sends a surge of heat straight through you. Your cock twitches in her hand, and you groan, your fingers tightening in her hair.

“You want it?” you growl, your voice rough.

“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes locked onto yours. “Please. I need it.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, leaning back in and taking you into her mouth again, deeper this time, her throat relaxing as she swallows more of you. She moves faster, her head bobbing, her tongue swirling, her lips sealing around you with perfect pressure.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hips lifting slightly as the pleasure becomes unbearable. “Mina… I’m gonna—fuck, don’t stop.”

She moans around you, her hands gripping your thighs as she takes you even deeper, her pace frantic. The combination of her mouth, her hands, and her raw need drives you over the edge.

Your body tenses, a guttural moan ripping from your throat as you cum hard, spurts of hot cum flooding her mouth. Mina chokes slightly but doesn’t pull away, her throat working to swallow as much as she can.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your voice strained as you ride out your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl.”

You stay inside her mouth, your cock still throbbing as the last few spurts spill onto her tongue. Mina’s lips remain wrapped around you, her eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, swallowing every drop.

You’re about to lean down to touch her when the door suddenly opens.

Your head snaps up, and there’s Joy, standing in the doorway, a folder in her hand. She pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your expression—the faint flush on your cheeks, the way you’re slouched in your chair, your hand still resting suspiciously on your desk.

“They’re calling you,” she says, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.

You clear your throat, straightening up as much as you can without giving anything away. “I’ll be there in a minute,” you reply, your voice steady despite the situation. “And maybe next time, knock before you come barging in.”

Joy raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Sorry about that,” she says, though her tone doesn’t sound sorry at all. She steps further into the room, glancing around. “Where’s Mina?”

Your jaw tightens, and you glance toward the desk briefly before looking back at her. “She’s… somewhere,” you say vaguely.

Joy’s smirk widens, and her gaze drops to the floor, lingering for a moment before she shakes her head. “Oh.. I get it,” she mutters under her breath, realizing exactly where Mina is.

She lifts a hand, waving dismissively as she backs toward the door. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you two alone. But hurry up. People are waiting.”

Just before she leaves, she glances over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’re killing it, by the way.”

The door clicks shut, and the room is silent again.

Beneath the desk, Mina pulls back slightly, her lips shining as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks up at you, her cheeks flushed, a playful smile on her face. “She’s right, you know,” she says softly.

You chuckle, reaching down to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah? Killing it, huh?”

She nods, leaning into your touch. “Always.”

You stroke her cheek gently, your thumb brushing over her warm, soft skin. “And you’re perfect,” you murmur.

Her smile widens, her eyes shining with warmth as she rests her head against your thigh, completely content.

—

It didn’t take long for the shift to happen. Two months after pulling yourself out of the corporate machine that had become a prison, you were already laying the groundwork for your comeback. The new company—a lean, hungry startup fueled by your vision and unrelenting drive—rose quickly, faster than even you had anticipated.

The car software, once just an idea others wanted to bury under politics and bureaucracy, became your flagship. A revelation in the market. Investors flocked to you like moths to a flame, and the deals you struck were smart, strategic. It wasn’t just about money; it was about power, control, showing everyone who dared doubt you that you were still here—and better than ever.

Your competitors? They felt it. Hard. Market shares plummeted, millions evaporated, and their weak attempts to counter your software only made your success more prominent. You’d created something they couldn’t match.

And through it all, the people who mattered most stuck by you. Joy, sharp as ever, was now more than just a former secretary or a trusted confidante—she was a critical piece of this machine, managing operations with an efficiency that made you wonder how you ever did without her.

A handful of employees from your old company came aboard too, loyal to the end, believing in you even when the others whispered doubts. They recognized what the world was starting to see again: you don’t lose.

Then, there was Mina.

Mina wasn’t just a constant; she was the steady hum beneath the chaos, the quiet fire that kept you grounded. She was still your secretary, still that eager-to-please presence at your side, but now she was more—so much more. The late nights at the office turned into intimate moments stolen in shadowed corners, in your private jet, in hotel suites during business trips. She was your confidante, your release, your everything when the world outside demanded too much.

And now, as you sit in your sleek new office—your name etched in chrome on the door, the skyline stretching out before you—it feels like everything is finally falling into place.

Joy steps into the room without knocking, a habit she never quite abandoned. She’s holding a tablet, her eyes scanning the screen as she approaches your desk.

“We’ve got numbers from the latest rollout,” she says, placing the tablet in front of you. “It’s better than we projected. Way better.”

You glance at the screen, a slow smile spreading across your face as you skim the data. “Of course it is,” you say, leaning back in your chair.

Joy smirks, crossing her arms. “Cocky as ever.”

“Confident,” you correct, meeting her gaze. “There’s a difference.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t argue. “You’ve earned it,” she admits. “But don’t let it go to your head. There’s still work to do.”

“There always is,” you say, standing and moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretches out before you, a sprawling testament to your return.

Joy follows your gaze for a moment before nodding toward the door. “I’ll let you get back to it. Just don’t forget the investor dinner tonight. Try to charm them instead of bulldozing, yeah?”

“No promises,” you say with a smirk, and she laughs as she leaves.

The door clicks shut, and you exhale, letting the moment sink in. You’re back. Not just back, but on top again, exactly where you belong.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and you already know who it is.

“Come in,” you call, turning back to your desk.

Mina steps inside, dressed in a fitted pencil skirt and blouse, her usual professional polish. Her hair falls in soft waves, and she’s carrying a tray with your usual coffee, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she approaches.

“Your coffee, boss,” she says with a small smile, setting the tray down carefully.

“Thank you,” you say, sitting back down and watching her as she moves around your desk to stand beside you.

“How’s everything going?” she asks.

“Better than I could’ve hoped,” you say honestly, reaching for the coffee. “The numbers are in, and they’re blowing expectations out of the water.”

Her smile widens, and she rests a hand lightly on your shoulder. “I knew you’d do it,” she says softly.

“You’re part of that,” you reply, glancing up at her. “You’ve been incredible, Mina. I don’t say it enough, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head slightly, her fingers tightening on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say it,” she murmurs. “I know.”

You set the coffee down and reach for her hand, pulling her gently into your lap. She goes willingly, her arms wrapping around your neck as she settles against you.

“This is just the beginning,” you say, your voice low. “We’ve got so much more to do, so much more to build. But as long as you’re here, I know I can handle it.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, her tone firm.

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good. Because this empire? It’s just getting started. We’ve got so much more to build, so much more to prove. And I want you right there with me, every step of the way.”

She leans in, her lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel it—the power, the fire, the unshakable certainty that together, you’re unstoppable. The world’s yours for the taking, and she’s the one who makes it all worth it.

#mina smut #Twice mina smut #twice mina #kpop m!reader #kpop male reader #kpop smut #mina twice #male reader #mina x reader #twice mina x reader

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viridescentelf · 3 days ago

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Yandere elf x reader - Valentine’s Day

happy valentine‘s day y‘all 👽

Silas Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru pls go to her and tell she‘s the queen of yandere

since so many peeps asked for more Silas smut, here‘s him „cleaning“ you. Don‘t know how lore accurate this is so pls forgive me if i missed something! i also didn‘t really proof-read so oops 😶‍🌫️

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, noncon, oral sex, general nsfw

—————

His long tongue lapped up your sweet and sour juices. You squirmed, both from the explosive pleasuring scale and his firm grip on your wrists.

You had been telling him about the concept of Valentine‘s Day (some true and untrue things because you could), as he thought it was only humans named Valentine that could celebrate their love on this manufactured holiday. Understanding that it meant showing love to anyone you feel deeply towards - even mothers - Silas hurried to remedy his misunderstanding.

You had never seen the elf change that quickly before. He had adorned some kind of elven festive garb and placed several beautiful flowers in his own and your hair (you watched him from the window scurry around the garden to find them), weaving the stems neatly (and fast) into your strands.

He then asked what humans traditionally did on Valentine‘s Day. You mentioned flowers, chocolates and date nights - trying to skirt around the topic of sex - by using the word „cuddling“. It was something you didn‘t really mind with him, he was extremely cozy to lean into, his soft muscles giving ample cushioning, even if he didn‘t let go of you unless you needed to pee.

Your eyes had followed Silas running into the kitchen and frantically throwing ingredients together to make pralines and chocolates. The house smelled amazing. He hectically returned to the living room where you were reading, chocolate smeared all over his dopy face, to ask if you preferred strawberry or raspberry. You had only gotten to „rasp-„ before he quickly turned to finish his craft.

You had thought this wasn‘t half bad. It was really entertaining watching him cook, bake and decorate with the speed of a doom‘s day dad preparing for the end of the world.

A few hours had passed. Silas had picked you up from the couch and carried you quickly to the dinner table, where he had lit so many candle that you had to blink rapidly through the blinding light. The chocolates were all individually wrapped and adorned with sweet messages. The food he cooked looked amazing, but it was frankly hard to see all of the details through the flickering little fires. Silas placed you on his lap and fed you everything, beyond your stomach‘s ability and despite you saying that you were full.

Feeling woozy from the excess food, you lay catatonic in his arms as every squeeze within the cuddle session made you even more nauseous.

„My darling! I love you I love you I love you I love you!“

He peppered kisses on you as you tried to focus on not throwing up. His kisses helped, whatever was in his weird saliva simultaneously healed you while you knew he was trying to prepare you for what he wanted next.

He hadn‘t cleaned you yet. You had tried to distract him with various other Valentine‘s Day traditions (some of which you made up, like how the greatest act of love is having to do an interpretive dance outside with twigs in your mouth which you watched with absolute glee), but he never missed this part of the day regardless of how hard you tried to get him off schedule. He was relentless that way.

You were still too full to move. He knew this.

Laying you out on the bed, you watched him remove your trousers and underwear. The ravenous glare in his eye always threw you off, every time. It was so menacing and filled with what felt like eons of pent up desire that it shut you up instantly.

His green eyes shimmered as he saw you leaking already, ready for him because of his aphrodisiac sputum and whatever else he added to your meal and chocolates.

He never really told you what he gave you.

What would it matter? You couldn‘t stop him anyway.

Silas‘s head lowered and you instinctively raised your arms to try to push his head away. He grabbed them so fast and held them down onto the soft mattress, that your arms sank deeper into the cushioning.

„There, there…let mama clean you up…“

His grip didn‘t hurt, but it was like cement blocks lying on top of your hands. There was no way you could get them out.

He kissed you. Your body squirmed slowly in response, because it just felt so marvelous. The tongue wreathed out of his smiling lips and traced you, mapping out its course. Your back arched expectingly, but he took his time, breathing his temperate air onto you - warning of the incoming impact.

Silas’ long tongue punched into you and you let out a deep rooted moan you had never heard yourself make before. It snaked through your walls like the invader it was and you felt his hands shake with his own pleasure.

He lapped everything up, your water flooding out of you uncontrollably without a stop in sight.

His mouth wrapped around you and sucked gently, every pop from the release making your spine curl even further. The stinging tingling clenching fiercely and surrounding your entire lower body, every lick, kiss and suction pushing your further.

You climaxed many times, from the penetration and from his feverish licking, every new flick causing your hips to convulse furiously.

He was saying something, but you couldn‘t hear with dark moans escaping your throat. He quickly returned to his task, letting you grow weaker with every orgasm.

You knew hours passed, because the light from the window was dimming. He had feasted on you for so long that the mattress was soaked.

Finally letting up, happy with his cleaning job, he pulled you up into a seated position while his growth pointed like a dagger at your face, his tall stature looming over you.

He huffed, as his giant hand caressed your cheek. Your exhausted eyes stared up at him.

„M-milking time darling…“

#yandere elf #yandere elf x reader #yandere silas #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere x y/n #male yandere x you #yandere elf silas #meo eiru #yandere fanfiction #male yandere fanfiction #smut #yandere smut #yandere male

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honeyedmiller · 2 days ago

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Guns and Roses

joel miller x f!reader

synopsis: fantasizing about joel miller gets you a lot more than you bargain for.

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: semi-grump x sunshine, joel is described to be taller than reader, feelings, smut (which includes reader being consensually choked out / breath play so if you’re not into that, heed the warning).

word count: 7.2k

a/n: listen, in my head joel miller is a 6’5” hunk of a kinky motherfucker. happy valentine’s day.

Joel Miller.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see his name next to yours on this morning’s patrol partner list.

You’ve never been partnered up with him and yet, you feel as if you know all about him. How grumpy he is. How he’s usually in charge when it comes to patrols. How he has low patience, and a no-bullshit type attitude. Some say he’s blatantly mean, and others are just straight-up afraid of him.

You aren’t afraid of him per se, but he does make you nervous. He’s got a stare that makes heat simmer low in your belly and an angry brow that makes you want to kiss the tension away. You’ve caught him staring at you a few times and it’s always made your cheeks heat, shying away from his gaze and devastatingly handsome face.

You’re brushing Shimmer’s coat before you saddle her up. Joel hasn’t arrived at the stables yet, so you spend a few minutes petting Shimmer and softly talking to her while you wait.

It’s almost like you can feel him before you see him. A chill runs down your spine as you hear heavy boots on the ground, and you turn to see the tall, stoic man in the flesh. You don’t know whether or not to say something to him. How he responds can set the mood for the rest of your morning.

Ever the optimist, though, you decide to take a crack at it.

“Morning, Joel.” You try to keep your tone light and casual, throwing in a small smile.

He eyes you up and down for a second, but it isn’t in disgust—intrigue, rather. His gaze locks on yours before he steps into the stables, opening the latch door to Callus’s stall.

“Mornin’,” he finally answers. His voice is gruff and raw, probably being the first words he’s spoken today.

You want to say more, but you leave it at that. You may have heard about how he is from everyone else’s point of view, but you want to decipher him for yourself. You just don’t want to push his buttons, especially at six thirty in the morning.

You huff and pet Shimmer one last time. “You ready, gorgeous girl?” You coo at her, giggling when she licks your hand. You mount yourself onto Shimmer’s back, grabbing the reins before clicking your tongue twice to get her to turn out of the stables. You glance back at Joel, catching him staring at you once again.

“I’ll, uh, meet you at the gate,” you say. He just gives you a small nod, and you face forward once more before guiding Shimmer to the gates where a couple of others wait. You greet everyone a cheerful good morning before Joel’s beside you, and it’s not long before everyone is sent on their way.

The sun has risen brilliantly and the chilly January air wraps around you as you trail behind Joel on his right side. Your eyes roam down his broad body, licking your lips as your gaze settles on the gun holster that’s clad to his thigh.

Suddenly your mind envisions Joel above you, staring at you with such carnal desire that it makes your whole core positively ache. You imagine he’s the super dominant type—possessive, territorial, and greedy in the best way possible. You can see him easily picking you up, slamming you against a wall while he fucks you senseless. He’s probably also the type of man that eats pussy for his own pleasure, not allowing himself to get off until he’s made you cum at least twice.

Well, fuck.

A whine almost slips past your lips and you’re back to reality, and your eyes shoot up to Joel’s as you find him staring at you completely unamused. You know your cheeks are burning, and you nearly wince when he has to repeat himself because you were too busy daydreaming about how good he’d take care of you—

Jesus Christ, you need a cold shower.

“Christ, Sunshine, are you even payin’ any mind to me?” He’s irritated and it makes you want to get swallowed up by a hole in the ground.

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

He sighs as if he’s completely inconvenienced, grumbling something under his breath and—wait, did he just call you ‘Sunshine’?

“Said the log book ain’t too far from here. Let’s scope out the area to make sure it’s clear before we sign it n’ head back,” he says. You nod and follow his lead, surely trying not to piss him off any further.

Joel ties Callus’s reins to a nearby tree, and you’re about to dismount Shimmer when Joel raises his hands up to you. You furrow your brows in confusion, wondering what the hell he’s doing before he rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Ain’t got all damn day, Sunshine. C’mon.”

You loop your feet out of the stirrups, Joel’s hands catching your waist as you slide down Shimmer’s side. You land right in front of him, so close that you can feel his breath on you. So close that you can easily inhale his scent, and he’s all earthy, manly musk with a hint of coffee. He smells absolutely divine.

You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your face. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you literally have to remind yourself to breathe. He’s just so fucking close and it’s so goddamn dizzying.

You should say something. You’re about to, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth turn up into a smug smirk before he turns his body away from yours to walk toward the small shack that has the log book in it. You’re taking this time—the distance away from him—to catch your breath and keep a watchful eye on the area, making sure it’s in the clear.

Joel reemerges a few minutes later, and the sun catches on his gun in his thigh holster. The handle gleams and your eyes are drawn to it once more. You’re staring at his thighs now, wondering how it would be if you rutted yourself over them.

Your eyes snap up to Joel’s once again, and he’s looking at you with a quirked brow.

“Signed the book. We all good here?” He gestures his hand to the vicinity, and you nod.

“All good.”

Shit. Your voice is breathless. You really can’t be any more obvious.

You mount yourself back onto Shimmer, waiting for Joel to lead ahead of you to start heading back home.

“So,” Joel starts, and his voice startles you. He slows Callus down so Shimmer can catch up to him and you both ride side-by-side. “Where are you from?” He asks, and you have to hold back a snort. Small talk is not something you expected him to resort to.

“QZ or pre-outbreak?” You counter back, looking at him as he faces ahead. You admire his side profile like this and he’s all strong jaw, beautifully chiseled nose, and plush lips. The leaves on the trees contrast beautifully against his golden skin, spewing glimpses of yellow and bright green.

“Pre, I guess.”

“California. You?”

He raises an eyebrow at that. “Texas. So you’re a city girl?”

This time you can’t help but huff a laugh and roll your eyes.

“No, Texas, not all of California is glitz and glamour,” you’re full-on giggling now, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in what you assume to be his half-assed attempt at smiling.

“What do you miss most about it?”

You don’t even need to think about it. Without missing a beat, you look at him with a soft smile before murmuring, “The ocean.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. You both head back into the gates of Jackson in peace, dismounting the horses and going about your days after reporting back to Maria.

Over the next couple of weeks, you’re getting paired with Joel every time you’re on morning patrol. You keep fantasizing about him and having him in the dirtiest way possible, and the tension is growing rapidly.

Joel’s jaw is taut when you bat your lashes up at him, and your cheery demeanor has his walls slowly crumbling down just for you.

It’s too much, though. The tension is palpable, nearly making you suffocate in the want and desire you have for this man—someone you have absolutely no business pining after.

You have to ask Tommy to take you off of patrol duty for a few days and have someone else fill in while you volunteer to take care of the horses in the stables or tend to the greenhouse.

You don’t see Joel for nearly a week, and you come to the realization that it kind of drives you crazy.

The next time you see him is at dinner in the mess hall. Joel stands in all his glory, sporting a green flannel that hugs his biceps perfectly and pants that hang on his hips like a glove. He’s also got that damn holster strapped around his thigh again, probably because he had just gotten back from patrol not too long ago.

When his eyes meet yours from across the room, you know you’re doomed.

And when he shoots you a barely there smile, but one you recognize nonetheless, you’re absolutely done for.

You swallow harshly and go back to paying attention to the conversation happening with your table, trying to ignore the holes he’s burning into your head. A dark, desirable warmth stirs deep in you and you have to force yourself to pay attention to what’s going on around you. The whiskey you drank definitely isn’t helping you, either.

You barely talk all dinner though, too nervous with the older Miller brother’s lingering gaze on you for most of the night.

You clean up after you’ve eaten and give Maria a grateful smile and hug, thanking her for a wonderful dinner. She eyes you conspicuously, knowing that you love being a part of community events since tonight is movie night. She finds it odd when you tell her you’re turning in early tonight, but she lets it go without question.

You walk out of the mess hall, shivering immediately as the cold air hits your body. You weren’t very well dressed for the cold weather, and while it was nice in the mess hall, you’re regretting not layering up this when it’s so cold outside.

You hear heavy footsteps behind you, walking fast to try and catch up to you. Once again, you can already tell who it is before you even turn around.

“Leavin’ so early, Sunshine?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, but it can easily be passed off as being too cold.

“Um, yeah, gonna turn in for the night.” You muster up a tight-lipped smile, not meeting his eyes before turning back around.

Joel puts a hand on your shoulder and electricity zings through your entire body. “Reckon I can walk you home, since I’m already out here.”

Fuck.

“Sure,” you say, tensing under his touch. You can’t see it, but he furrows his brows at you and cautiously falls in step with you as you walk back home.

“Jesus, Sunshine, you’re freezin’.” He takes off his thick coat and wraps it around your shoulders, and you’re nearly a fucking puddle on the floor. The coat smells like him and it takes everything in you to not bury your nose in the fabric and inhale. His scent is intoxicating.

Everything about him is intoxicating.

It’s not long before you both reach your doorstep after a few minutes of walking in silence. You fumble with the key to open your front door, nerves heightening once again.

Jesus Christ, you need to get a hold of yourself.

Once you get the door open, you stand there for a beat before looking up at him. He’s all alluring brown eyes and subtle sexy smirk that makes you gooey in the knees.

You contemplate it for a moment, but before you can overthink your decision, you bite the bullet and ask against your better judgement. “Do you want to come in?”

He hesitates, assessing you. He nods after a few seconds and follows you inside, and you feel your pulse start to race quicker. It’s irritating how much of an effect he has on you, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Nice place you got,” he says, running a hand through his hair before taking a seat on your couch. He spreads his thighs wide, taking up so much fucking room, and all it makes you want to do is be all over him.

There’s just no fucking way he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you.

“Thank you.” You don’t really know what to say to him at this point. Conversation flowed so easily on patrol, but now you’re in this confined space with him and want nothing more than his lips on yours, consuming your entire being.

“Can I, uh, get you anything?”

Be more awkward, yeah? You chastise yourself for being unable to behave normally around him.

“Just your company,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the couch. You swallow thickly and make your way over, plopping yourself down on the couch, leaving enough distance between the two of you.

He chuckles lowly under his breath, but you still hear it against the stark quietness of your quaint home.

“So how come I haven’t seen you on patrol lately?” His deep voice is like plunging into a warm, dark abyss. It’s full of the unknown but so comforting at the same time, and it makes your head swim.

You shrug your shoulders, gaze moving to your hands that fidget in your lap. “Just wanted to focus on helping out elsewhere.”

“Bullshit. I think you’re lying.” He says it with such confidence, cocking his head to the side as he studies you. You didn’t think he’d call you out so easily.

Your brows shoot up. “I am not—!”

Even you could hear the blatant defensiveness in your tone. You look at him with a fiery gaze, brows furrowed downward at his all-too-true accusations.

“You are. Why haven’t you been on patrol?” His voice is huskier now, knowingly eyeing you like he can see right through you.

“Dammit, Joel,” you huff, tipping your head back against the couch. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

The truth. As if it were that simple.

Yeah Joel, truth is that me, little miss innocent Sunshine, has been fantasizing about you fucking my brains out every time I see you, you think.

Joel moves closer and his face is mere inches away from yours, brown eyes intense as they watch you in such a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Your gaze shifts elsewhere because the tension is too much, and you’re left feeling like a shell of a woman under his scrutiny.

And that’s when you realize he already knows. You don’t need to tell him shit, because somehow, some way, he knows your dirty little secret and the ways you fantasize about him.

“Trust me, Sunshine. Last thing you want is to get tangled up with a guy like me.”

Your eyes snap up to his.

”And that’s where you’re wrong, Joel. I want you.”

“‘S a dangerous game you’re playin’, baby.”

Baby.

“I’m not playing games, Joel,” you say. There’s a finality in your voice that really let him know you weren’t fucking around. “You seriously wanna know why I asked Tommy to be taken off of patrol?”

He gives you a slow, singular nod. The muscle in his jaw ticks as something fiery blazes behind his darkened eyes.

“Every single time I’m around you, I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. Your presence is all-consuming, and every time I look at you, all I can picture is the ways I want you to have me. It’s not normal, Joel. That—that is why I asked to be taken off of patrol.”

His expression doesn’t waver, but the muscle in his jaw ticks impossibly faster. He’s as still as a statue, and it’s so fucking quiet that you can hear a pin drop.

There’s also another reason why you didn’t want to tell him: rejection.

You can see him fighting a battle in his head, and this is already humiliating enough as it is. You don’t think you can handle the I don’t want you words that’ll eventually spill out of his mouth, so you stand up and take a deep breath, walking toward the door. You tug it open and his brows furrow as you stare at him expectantly.

“I just—please, just leave.”

His lips flatten into a straight line before he stands up and takes a few strides to get to where you’re at. He’s gazing down at you with an unfamiliar look in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something before he snaps it shut seconds later. His face hardens into that infamous grumpy stare, all harsh lines and tight jaw.

He walks out without saying another word.

You close your front door and slump against it, heaving out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Your eyes snap up to the ceiling, and regret begins to sink her nasty claws into your skin.

Fuck.

A couple of weeks pass after that whole incident in your house with Joel. You’re awoken by a loud knock on your door, and you grumble the whole way down before opening it. Tommy stands in the frame with a pleading look, and you furrow your brows as you try to fully wake up.

“Tommy…?”

“Hey sweetheart. I need a big favor,” he says. He shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking like he wants to dash away at any given second.

“What is it?”

“Christy called out from her patrol shift today and you’re pretty much the only one who knows the routes well enough to cover.”

You scrub your face with your hands, and peek an eye out from behind your fingers.

“Only because it’s you, Tommy,” you huff a laugh, and he flashes you his bright smile.

“You’re a lifesaver. Maria and I are really grateful.”

“It’s the least I can do,” you say, but then you pause. “Who’s my partner for this shift?”

Tommy’s eyes avert to the wood on your porch, and you immediately knew. You didn’t know how much Tommy knew about this thing, whatever the hell it was, between you and Joel.

You’re not really sure it’s a thing anymore, though, considering you kicked him out after telling him how you really feel. You have no idea what’s going to happen on patrol today, and you really don’t want to find out, but Tommy and Maria took you in when you were at your lowest.

You literally owe them your life.

“Will you still cover?” His voice is soft. The corner of your lips twitch up into an almost smile, and you reach out to pat his arm.

“For you and Maria.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the stables at the crack of dawn, making sure the saddle on Shimmer was secure.

Heavy footsteps enter the stables, and you already know who it is. You hear another pair of footsteps not too far behind, and you don’t turn around until you hear Tommy call your name.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you while you’re still here. Are you still good to come over to ours later and help Maria with the cupcakes?”

You hoist yourself up onto Shimmer and give Tommy a smile.

“‘Course.”

”You goin’ with anyone to do the dance?” Tommy asks, and Joel looks between you both. The Valentine’s dance is coming up tonight, and you told Maria you’d help with whatever she needed. You just didn’t plan on going.

“Nah,” you wave him off playfully. “I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Oh c’mon, you oughta meet a handsome fella—or lady, I don’t discriminate—at the dance.”

Your eyes flicker to Joel for a split second only to find him already staring at you, before you look back to Tommy. You roll your lips into your mouth before shrugging with a small smile.

“Maybe.”

“Well just think about it,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. You give him a nod and your eyes drift to Joel one last time before moving Shimmer out of the stables and toward the gate.

You greet everyone at the gate before Joel makes his way beside you, and you’re all sent on your way. You silently follow Joel, an unspoken rule between you both that he’s obviously in charge. He doesn’t attempt conversation, and you know better than to poke the bear, but the tension is still palpable.

You make it to your assigned area before hopping off of Shimmer, shotgun tightly gripped in your hand.

“I’ll go scope around back,” you say, treading off before he can even reply.

You’re lost in thought as you look around, until you hear a branch break behind you. You swing around so fast that you almost hit Joel with your shotgun.

“Jesus, Sunshine, it’s just me,” he says, frowning.

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, dammit! I could’ve shot you!”

“But you didn’t. You’re cute when you’re mad.” Amusement wraps around his words and he smirks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“So you don’t hate me, huh?” You ask, and you know it’s probably stupid to even take the conversation in that direction, but what else have you got to lose?

He’s quiet for a moment, looking beyond the trees as he sighs.

“No, Sunshine, I don’t hate you.”

You meet his gaze as you look up at him, his tall frame turning toward you as he walks closer, forcing you to step backwards until your back hits a wooden wall. He rests one hand beside your head and stares down at you.

You know he can easily see the effect he has on you, with the way your breathing picks up and the furrow between your brow. You can’t even meet his gaze, because you know if you do, you’re absolutely done for.

“Why’d you kick me out of your place the other day?”

You take a moment to try and collect yourself as best as you possibly can, but you know it’s no use.

“I didn’t want to get rejected. It’s already humiliating enough to admit that you drive me fucking crazy.”

“How so?” He leans down, nosing at your jaw before placing a kiss below your ear. You gasp, closing your eyes to relish the feeling of his lips on you.

You need them everywhere.

“Just—you—fuck,” you sigh. You can’t even get a coherent thought out with his proximity and intoxicating scent and warmth wrapping around you, welcoming you into something much more desirable.

His lips are at your ear.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispers, and you bite back a moan as he presses his lips against your neck. “Does this look like rejection to you?”

“Joel—”

“Fuck, darlin’—drive you crazy? You have absolutely no idea what you do to me. Not a fuckin’ clue.”

“What do I do to you, Joel?” Your voice is meek as you stare up at him, trying to find your bearings.

He stares at you for what seems like a century, before leaning down so close that his nose brushes against yours. He hesitates, and you figure it's because he doesn’t want to push you if you don’t want to do this.

You’ve already made it abundantly clear, so you meet him the rest of the way and envelope your lips with his.

The feeling is cosmic—better than anything you’d ever expected. It’s the kind of kiss that sends tingles down your spine and makes your toes curl in delight.

You moan in desperation, tugging him closer to you by the sherpa lapel of his jacket, tangling your other free hand in his soft curls at the base of his skull.

He groans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and you get lost in the art of kissing each other.

You don’t know how long you’re there pawing at each other like a couple of desperate, touch-deprived fools, but eventually you pull away because your lungs are fucking burning for air.

You pant against his lips, tightening your hold on his lapel.

“I wish you woulda let me say my piece instead of kicking me out,” Joel confesses. You lean your head back onto the building and sigh, looking up through the treeline.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I was just scared.”

“Ain’t a thing to be scared of, baby. As much as I’d love to continue this, I reckon it’s best we get goin’. They’re gonna wonder where we’re at.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you nod, pushing yourself off the building. You scope the area with him one more time and to your luck, no activity to report. Joel signs the log book and you both head back to Jackson in a comfortable silence, a total one-eighty from earlier.

You leave each other at the stables with not another word spoken, but a longing gaze that says everything you’re both feeling.

You head to Tommy and Maria’s house to help Maria with the cupcakes as promised, and you head home that night with the older Miller brother on your mind yet again.

By the time everyone is heading over to the dance, you’re all cozy in your oversized t-shirt and a book in your hand. You’ve just showered, and knowing you have off tomorrow from any and all work has you feeling extra relaxed.

A knock on your front door startles you though, and you dog-ear the page you’re reading and set the book on your bedside, but you hear heavy boots walking up the steps already. You scramble and grab your pistol from your nightstand, standing on your knees on your mattress as you hear the footsteps getting closer to your bedroom door.

“Sunshine?” Joel’s voice calls, and you sigh in relief as you switch the safety back on and toss your pistol onto your nightstand.

He’s in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he takes the image of you in. The t-shirt you’re wearing only falls to the middle of your thighs, and you’re not wearing anything but panties underneath.

The sight of him staring at you in such a hungry way has you gasping softly, and the feeling of arousal already sticks to your underwear.

You take this opportunity to stare at him, too. Your eyes roam slowly down his frame, and yet again you’re fantasizing about all of the things you want to do with him.

Your eyes halt halfway down his thigh—and you couldn’t help yourself.

You kept staring at the holster, perfectly wrapped around his thick thigh. The leather was a parcel of fine craftsmanship, made to fit him like a glove.

The gun in the holster was the cherry on top as it sat flush against his body, and you just couldn’t stop fucking staring.

Joel was waiting for you to pounce—challenging you, mocking you. He quirks his eyebrow up at you as he crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps pop.

You swallow thickly as you force your gaze to meet his eyes, which have so clearly darkened.

“Sweet girl,” Joel groans, “Keep starin’ at me and my thigh holster like that and I might just have to choke you out with it.”

Oh, fuck. You clench around nothing at the thought.

You nearly whimper as he crosses the room to get to your bed, towering over you once again. His large palm cups your cheek and you can’t help but look up at him like you’re mesmerized.

Maybe you really are.

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip before tugging it down, and that dangerous smirk is back on his lips.

“Tell me,” he says.

You’re so entranced by this man that it takes your brain a few seconds to catch up and process what he just said.

“What?”

“Tell me what you fantasize about.”

Your eyes dart to the pink comforter on your bed.

Joel tsks and shakes his head, hand moving to your jaw so you have to look up at him.

“Tell me, baby. I want to give it to you.”

He lets go of your jaw and sits down next to you on the bed, tugging you onto him so you’re straddling his thigh.

You look down at his denim-clad leg, biting your lip before Joel ruts you forward.

“Stare at my thighs so goddamn much you might as well ride it, hm?” He strokes the back of your head, and your eyebrows furrow at the delicious friction.

You nod. “This was one of the things,” you say.

“I know, baby. Use me. Wanna see you get off by pleasin’ yourself on me.”

You sharply inhale. He moves his hands down to your thighs, pushing the t-shirt up to your hips before dipping one hand between your legs. He clicks his tongue against his teeth and hums as he rubs your aching pussy through the fabric of your underwear.

“Fuckin’ soaked already, Sunshine. Can’t believe I really do this to you.”

“Why’s it so hard to believe?” You ask, testing the waters by rutting your hips forward once. You softly moan at the feeling, and Joel moves his hands to settle on your hips.

“‘Cus, I’m the mean grumpy ol’ bastard of the town and you’re the sweet, innocent happy woman that gets on well with everyone.”

You laugh at that, moving your hands to his shoulders to give them a squeeze. You quirk a playful brow at him before rutting your hips once more.

“Who said I was innocent?”

You tilt your head, and his eyes get impossibly darker. Joel hums, considering you for a second.

“I like it rough, baby, so you gotta tell me if anythin’ I do is too much.”

You clench around nothing once again, feeling your arousal seep down your thighs. The thought of him being rough with you sends you over the fucking moon.

“Will do, cowboy.”

The corner of his mouth tilts into an almost smile, and he leans in to kiss you with the same hunger from earlier. It’s easy to follow his lead, as your hands find his curls once more and you start to rut your hips.

Your feet barely touch the ground like this, but ever the gentleman Joel is, he helps you by moving your hips back and forth with his hands at your hips. You’re panting his name and his face is buried in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping the skin there.

“That’s it, there you go,” he coos. “Wish you can see how pretty you look gettin’ off on me. Fuckin’ stunner you are.”

You inhale sharply and squeeze your eyes shut, tossing your head back between your shoulders. Joel dips his head down and captures a clothed nipple into his mouth, and you let out a loud whine.

It’s almost too much, with the delicious pressure on your aching clit, hands roaming over your hot skin and the expertise of his mouth.

You feel the white-hot sensation shoot through you, and you bow your back as your orgasm blindsides you and forcefully crashes through you.

“Joel!” You gasp his name as he brings his hand down between your legs, cupping your sex and rubbing you through the thin fabric before he tosses you onto the bed.

You’re staring at your ceiling trying to catch your breath, but Joel doesn’t give you two seconds to think before he’s on top of you. His lips clash with yours, all teeth and tongue and desperation, before he’s tugging off your underwear and shirt to fling them across your bedroom behind him.

You sit up on your elbows as you stare at him, watching him as he slowly unbuttons his flannel, tossing it on the floor with your clothes.

His tanned skin glows in the sunset through your windows, and the shadows carve out the muscles in his biceps perfectly. He looks ethereal like this, towering over you with a hungry, insatiable stare.

He unstraps his thigh holster from himself, sliding the gun across the floor and tossing the holster onto the bed next to you.

He hovers over you once again, smirking down at you as he looks at the pretty, glistening mess between your legs.

He wraps his arms around your thighs and he drags you toward the edge of the bed, flipping you over before harshly smacking your ass.

You suck in a breath at the sting and he’s hungrily watching the way you clench around nothing.

“Oh you like that, huh pretty girl?” He asks, tone nothing short of dark and teasing.

You don’t even hesitate.

“Fuck, yes, Joel.”

His calloused hands massage your ass, giving it another smack before you hear shuffling behind you. You turn your head to see that he’s kneeling behind you, and he looks right into your eyes as he spits on your pussy. You moan at the sight, and he grabs your thighs before burying his face in your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you cry, relishing in the feeling of his tongue working your slick, aching core so expertly.

Each flick of his tongue has purpose, so fluidly blending together that it feels like a fucking composer conducting an orchestra.

Your body is a violin, a piano, a flute.

A symphony waiting to reach crescendo.

His tongue glides and prods and his mouth eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have, and you’re grabbing onto your pretty pink comforter for dear life as you gasp and moan his name louder and louder with each pass, each flick.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as his tongue sinks into your warmth, fucking you for a brief few seconds before traveling upward toward your asshole.

He stays there, licking and kissing your tight little hole, going to a place nobody ever has before.

You reach back and thread your fingers through his hair, forcing his face into your flesh as he greedily licks you up. He moves his tongue back down to your pussy, drinking your arousal like you’re the finest nectar on Earth.

Hell, to him, maybe you are.

That devastating bliss curls around you and your insides once more, and when Joel wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you’re absolutely done for.

You scream his name like a prayer on Sunday, tears forming in your waterline as this orgasm rips through you more forcefully than the last. You’re quivering by the time he stands up straight again.

“I could eat that sweet little pussy for the rest of my God-given life,” he says, and you look back at him with a weak half smile.

You’re already so fucked out, but you know he isn’t done with you yet. Your eyes move down to the bulge in his jeans, and the outline of him makes your mouth water.

“Let me suck your dick,” you say, and Joel chuckles before leaning down to give you a wet, you-flavored kiss.

“Another time, baby. Wanna fuck you first.”

It’s like your body answers to his call each and every time, so willing and ready for him.

“Wanna see stars, Joel.”

“And stars you’ll see, sweet girl.”

He leans down to kiss your hair before ridding himself of his jeans and boxers, erection springing free.

He groans at the newfound freedom, and you can see his pre-cum beaded at his tip.

You can’t help yourself—you reach over and swipe your thumb over it, popping your finger into your mouth with a satisfied hum as the salty flavor of him dances on your tongue.

“Why do I have a feelin’ you enjoy giving head?”

You quirk a brow at him. “You wanna find out?”

He laughs. It’s a sweet, rare sound. It’s one you want to capture in a jar to keep and cherish forever.

“Later, baby. I wanna make you feel good tonight.”

You’re about to say you already have—twice, in fact, but he’s moving behind you before you can get the words out. He rubs your ass one more time before spreading you open.

You can tell he admires the view with the appreciative hum that evades his throat.

“You sure you wanna do this? You can still back out, y’know.”

You look back at him, batting your lashes twice. He gets the message.

His mouth quirks up and he swipes his head through your folds, catching onto your clit. You whine at the feeling, and Joel smacks your ass once more for good measure.

He settles himself at your entrance and pushes into you slowly, letting you take him inch by inch until he’s reached the hilt.

His hips are flush against your ass, and he’s so fucking large and heavy inside you that it lights your body aflame with pure pleasure.

“Joel,” you cry, and Joel strokes your back while he allows you time to get used to the sting, the delicious stretch.

The feeling is indescribable, being so full like this, let alone with the man you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks now.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, honey. She’s takin’ this cock so well,” he praises.

You moan at his words, finally squeezing the words out of your throat. “Move, please.”

So he does.

He starts off slow at first, testing the waters, before completely pistoning into you. He knocks the breath out of you, and it’s almost too much, but you fucking love it.

You haven’t felt this type of bliss in your life, well, ever, and Joel is giving it to you on the first go of him fucking you.

He slows his hips down before he grabs the thigh holder and dangles it in your vision, and you look back at him with what had to be the most pathetic pleaful look.

“You still want this?” He asks, and you nod.

“Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“God, fuck! Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes,” you cry. “Please, Joel. Need you to—fuck—need you to choke me out. Need it rougher. Need you,”

“Fuck, baby, you’re a goddamn dream,” he grits. “Tap my thigh twice n’ hard if you need me to stop.”

“Okay,” you murmur.

He wraps the leather strap around your throat, buckling it securely before giving it a soft tug.

“This feel okay?”

You nod, and he gives you a warning look.

Words.

“Yes, Joel. ‘S perfect.”

He pulls at the strap, and it squeezes the sides of your throat as he resumes fucking you.

He’s pounding into you relentlessly and a deep, guttural groan leaves his chest and the sound scrapes low in your belly. It makes your pussy flutter around his cock, squeezing him so tight that his hips stutter.

“Fuckin’ squeezin’ me, baby. She loves this cock, don’t she?”

You whine and nod, clawing at the comforter as he pulls the strap tighter. Your breathing becomes more shallow and your vision starts to go black around the edges.

You’re starting to see the stars Joel promised you.

Joel hears that your little noises he loves oh-so-much have ceased, so he lets up on the strap. You gulp in a big breath of air, looking back at him to give him a wicked smile.

He almost cums at the sight.

“Reckon you like it rough, too.”

You hum in agreement, reaching between your legs to cup his balls. He nearly chokes on a moan at the feeling of you beginning to massage him, and he slaps your ass before pounding into you once again.

He pulls on the strap again, but this time he leans down so his lips are at your ear.

“Takin’ this cock like you were made for it, honey.”

He kisses your neck and moves his lips down between your shoulder blades, nipping at your skin before slinking a hand between your thighs, finding your clit in one perfect move.

You want to scream and cry his name, but it’s nearly impossible with the restriction on your throat. Your vision blurs black at the edges again and before you know it, your third orgasm of the night is tearing you apart from the inside out. A silent scream evades you.

You’ve reached the crescendo.

You’re convulsing around him, and you think he’s saying something like there you go, good girl, but the blood is pounding so hard in your ears that you can barely even register his voice. You barely even feel him take off the holster from around your neck, too.

Everything blurs together in bliss and dazzling stars and by the time you come to, Joel is grunting words you can finally hear.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me?”

You do your best to push yourself away from him and clamber onto your knees, right in front of him.

You give him a satiated smile, all hooded eyes and a fucked out appearance that has him losing it.

He tosses his head back as he pumps himself a few more times before his cum paints itself across your chest and lower half of your face.

You’re truly a sight to behold—the look on Joel’s face when his gaze meets yours again says it all.

He leans down and cups your face, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, sitting down on your bed again before Joel is back with a wet washcloth in his hand. He coaxes you to lay back against your pillows as he wipes you down gently.

The stark contrast of the softness he’s exuding now versus when he fucked your brains out is quite an amusing thing, but appreciated nonetheless.

He tosses the washcloth in your hamper after he’s finished, slipping his boxers back on before climbing into bed with you.

He tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze, and his thumb traces over the side of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, voice gentle and full of worry.

“More than okay,” you reassure him. Your limbs feel like goo and you can barely keep your eyes open, but you’re floating on cloud nine.

You curl into him and he kisses your forehead once again, wrapping an arm around you to keep you close.

“Listen, Sunshine. I ain’t really a flowers type ‘a guy,” he starts, and you look up at him again.

Your heart sinks a little and you’re sure Joel can see your face deflate, so he quickly follows up on his previous words.

“But baby, for you, I’d pick out any one you wanted.”

And you know that’s his way of saying he’s all in. You let his words marinate for a minute before kissing his chest, right above the steady beat of his heart.

“Even the white roses from Maria’s garden?” You tease him, knowing those flowers are her prized possession.

He laughs again, and without a beat, leans his face down to yours with such an incandescently happy smile that his usual frown seems something so foreign to you.

“Even those.”

a/n (pt 2): huge thanks to @ozarkthedog for encouraging me and letting me ramble about this fic.

also, i can’t help but make joel a sappy motherfucker too. he’s a sappy kinky motherfucker.

sorry for any mistakes. this wasn’t revised that well.

hope y’all enjoyed tho.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagines #joel miller tlou #grumpy joel #game joel miller #joel miller game #the last of us fanfiction

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vifilms · 2 days ago

Text

FIND YOUR WINGS, VALENTINE

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. roommate!vi x femcoded!reader x exsituationship!caitlyn

caitlyn kiramman, a woman who yearned to have her cake and eat it too. violet, a simple girl who has fallen for someone emotionally unavailable and you — trying to disperse between heartbreak and a new love.

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: 17k wc. bartender!reader, melvika cameos, lesbian sex, semi-public sex, mutual finger-off, anal play, shy!vi, caitlyn is a cunt (in this), unfaithful mentality, valentine's day aura?

rayray rambles, chat! we made it. truthfully, this fic got away from in so many ways and i'm proud of myself for reigning it in. this originally was going to be a new years eve fic but it got so impossibly long that i wanted some more time with it. but i hope you enjoy it, this is my latest baby and a lot of love was put into it. happy valentines ♡

— special thank you to my amazing proofreader reader, @meganegatari, plu, i love you dearly.

‪‪and to my love, @sinstear, thank you for always listening to me ramble. happy valentines bubba, ily. even though you've already read 85 percent of this bc i was so excited about it

You could still feel her.

Like it was just last night with her finger buried deep inside, pinning you against your front door with her slender fingers, the soft pad of her fingers stuffed inside your pants, making you see stars. A last ditch effort to keep you around.

Caitlyn likes to chase but she becomes a bambi in headlights once she’s caught her prey. There was desperation for the last cry, a final effort to keep you around. You’d never seen such a progressive emotion from her.

Before tonight, every moment; every word said seems transactional.

The hauntingly blue windows of her soul look anywhere but you. You wonder if it's a tactic. Refusing to make eye contact when she’s most vulnerable. As if one glance at you would cost her the rest of her life, an outcome she can’t afford.

These days, she’s afraid of her own shadow. Unable to look anyone in the eyes, her spirit crushed like she’s anywhere but here. When you try to pull her back to shore, she recedes even further.

Nothing is good enough.

Caitlyn makes it abundantly clear that you aren’t. Insults bite into your skin like a bullet, the blow never to your heart, the place you desperately want it to be.

But for now, you lick your wounds and you let her have what she wants. Even if she’s fading from your grip, you can still hold her, you can still pretend she loves you the same way, and you can cry after she leaves. You wonder if she sees you for who you really are or if Caitlyn only sees what benefits her.

It’s a cycle that keeps you here, entangled with a woman who doesn’t have the decency to let you go. If Caitlyn is half the woman you believe her to be, she would have mercifully kicked you out of her apartment.

Then, there’s Vi.

Nothing with her is serious, not even physical, she just whines and dines you, she holds you like she loves you. Above everything else; Vi makes you forget. Even if it’s with a soft smile, a harmless joke that’s so stupid it makes you giggle — it’s a moment of peace. One you crave more than desolation.

There’s a softness to her that Caitlyn doesn’t allow. You’re sure that’s why the two didn’t work out. Caitlyn is rough. Kind when she needs something, vengeful when you get in her way but when she seeks retribution for her sins, it’s entirely too late.

Vi is everything Caitlyn isn’t, what she’s incapable of being — a simmering token of hope you keep close to your chest.

The more you think about it, the more your stomach twists in knots over your neediness. Entertaining Violet so she can quench your emotional thirst. And keeping Caitlyn around in good faith, a blind faith you place in her, hoping that you’re not wrong.

You can’t be wrong.

Somehow she’ll change, right?

“Why do you have to leave so soon?” Her accent bites into you like an icy river, devoid of emotion as she reveals what she really wants. A silky blue robe untied as her full breasts sit perfectly on her chest.

Almost as if it’s muscle memory, your thumbs circle over her pink nipples, it buds under your touch and Caitlyn does what she does best.

She grasps onto the reins of control, refusing to let go.

With a firm hand, she applies pressure on the back of your neck, beckoning your mouth to find home on her perfect tits and they do. At the moment, you’re her favorite toy and she lets you play.

Plump lips latching on her nipple while your free hand squeezes the other, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nipple as your teeth graze over the sensitive skin, a gasp falling from Caitlyn’s lips.

“Pretty girl just needs her mouth put to work. Give the other some attention, she’s feeling quite lonely.”

Doing as you're told, your desperate drool collects on her chest as you bite the swell of her chest, before sucking on her other nipple as if she’s lactating. Then the idea of Caitlyn’s belly swollen makes you whimper, moaning into her skin as she runs a finger up her own slit, your eyes looking up at her as you suck, flick, and bite.

As if your life depends on it. Maybe it did.

“Come back to bed, babygirl. I need my perfect little slut. I can fuck you in the shower just the way you like.”

The ammunition of her poisonous words might as well have penetrate your bloodstream. Displaced trust turns you into another toy for her to use. Trapped perpetually in a cycle you had a hand in enabling. Words full of steam leave a third-degree burn on your skin, not a single drop of blood to be found.

But even if you want to pull back, you can’t.

There’s no further arguments as you slip into the lion’s den. With soul-crushing desire, your bare chest presses against the fogged glass, Caitlyn using her favorite dildo as she fucks you into the wall of glass, a dignity you posses withers with each thrust. Perfectly manicured slim fingers pull at your hair as an arch to your back is forced.

With each thrust she becomes more aggressive, her pace is punishing and it’s meant for you to fall in her hands. But you’re resisting, holding off the orgasm and the high that comes with it. The higher you fall, the harder you crash. You know Kirakiller won’t be there to catch you.

You’ll burden the fall on your own.

“Cait, please—”

The slap of your stretched lips being thoroughly obliterated by her brutal cock can be heard throughout her apartment. She wants to make you come, that’s clear, but she also wants to break you. There’s nothing more a Kiramman loves, hearing you beg for mercy. To have the pathetic and whiny girl who blindly loves her, shattering at her grip.

“That’s not my name. You fucking know it’s not. Good little sluts say it, don’t they?”

Before you can even process it, she slaps your ass, three times, sending the orgasm raging through you. All Caitlyn does is fuck your pretty face into the glass as you take every inch of her. Then her pace halts as your heavy breath is heard over the shower. She turns the water off and you’re stuck there, unable to move.

Afraid.

Your heart would collapse right with you.

Caitlyn moves swiftly, like a knight coming in the dead of knight to steal the princess. On all fours, she rummages through the cabinet before locating the precious wand. With a profound smirk, she grips the handle as if it’s an extension of her limb.

“Looks like you’re getting punished today, babygirl. How do you wanna take it?”

The lines blur together over the next few hours until you’re stumbling out of the apartment. Caitlyn not directly kicking you out of her home but your stay is only welcome for as long as the fucking window is open. It’s nearly three hours past midnight, tears in your eyes as you tread home with a gaping hole punctured with her sharpest end of her carefully placed blade.

You wonder if she’s always been like this. Hot and hungry for power, ready to hurt anyone in order to get it. The angry flesh begs to be fed, and she gives in each time. Even when it means she sees the love depleted from your eyes, or when you refuse to make eye contact, or like tonight when she watches you hold in tears to escape out of her apartment.

Some nights, you did want to be handled with a gentle hand but it’s not something Caitlyn gives.

Anything more than a generous hand and greedy lips begging to lap at your cunt and Caitlyn comes up short. Living up to her name to the fullest.

Kirakiller, they called her.

There’s a dozen reasons for her name. How she slaughters everyone on the pitch, academically she’ll make you feel inferior to her own privileged, private education prior to university. How she kills your spirit if you aren’t someone she sees as an exceptional academic student for Piltover University.

All of it seems to be a game for her. With Cassandra Kiramman as the dean, the board members sit heavily in her overflowing pocket, she runs things as she sees fit. Her daughter being taken care of and on top of the world is her number one priority. There’s been a dozen to come after the Kiramman’s and none have been successful. Murmurs of corruption grace the hallowed halls but not a soul dares to challenge the wealth and power of the prestigious bloodline of the Kirammans.

Caitlyn “Kirakiller” Kiramman associating with someone who was merely on scholarship wasn't in Cassandra’s plans. Even if you didn’t even know it yet, you were too low on the totem pole to be associated with the future of a daunting legacy. An entire life laid out for Cait before she even took her first breath.

It was dumb to buzz her up to the apartment. Even more idiotic to respond to her texts in the first place but besides all her failed attempts, she still tries to worm her way through your heart to take what she believes is owed. Just like last week, you let her.

She leaves when you pretend to fall asleep after, the two of you telling yourselves it’ll be the last time, but it won’t be.

It’s a vicious cycle, one has your insides spinning, your stomach churning and your heart aching. But you’re too weak to end. It’s a tale as old as time. You want something more and Caitlyn can’t be bothered to be committed to the wrong type of girl.

It’s all about appearances and you’re not good enough.

Cassandra, the respectable dean and the mother who is the puppeteer of her daughter’s life, behind the scenes pulling the strings in order to maintain image, status. She holds it closer than her own blood; a need for her bloodline to prosper and Dean Kiramman will trample anyone’s heart to complete the task.

Whether she wants to fight against her mother’s future or not? You didn’t know.

Truly, you never know what she wants, besides getting herself off or getting you off, Caitlyn was stuck between a world she’s born for and one that’s decided for her. A child acting out but waiting until college to do so.

Kirakiller.

That’s what they called her. Ruthless in all of her conquests, never calling back, never fucking the same girl again, it wasn’t something Kirakiller did. She used, abused, and moved onto the next one.

But for some reason, she’s incredibly stuck on you.

The new year puts you at a distance when Cait refuses to bring you home for the holidays. Of course, the fight rages as soon as she’s done fucking you.

“What do you think this is?”

“You tell me.”

There’s a look in your eyes, gleaming and sorrowful, the rejection crystal clear. That’s all any of this has been. A severe procrastination tactic to put off what you want, her.

What makes it worse is Caitlyn knows it but she’s still here, trying, and who the hell knows why.

Hope. A poor woman’s faith guts you, ripping your insides of love and prosperity. In your line of vision, you just see claws tearing at your skin, all flesh raw and bleeding as she begs for more.

A wish that you hope for every time you see her. This time she’ll choose differently, she’ll be kind this time. I’ll be enough to love. This will be the moment.

But when she doesn’t, the accent you love so much burns you at the stake, you’re screaming on deaf ears. Begging for her to hear just one, but she snuffs you out. Like the moonlight you bring, she pretends you don’t call to her like the moon pulls the tide.

Instead, you’re met with Caitlyn’s greed.

“Why do I think this is? I expect some basic level of human compassion but you’ve forgotten that too. I’ve always given you the benefit of the doubt. Even when everyone tells me you’re fucking other girls besides me, even when I see with my own eyes how you act when you think I’m not around. You clearly don’t respect me. Every time I’ve tried to have this conversation, you avoid me. Do you think I deserve that?”

“There is nothing to even discuss. This is nothing.” Her accent is sharp, cutting right through your heart. A woman you love too deeply reaffirming how little she thinks of you.

Dismissal.

Absence.

You are nothing, might as well have fallen from her lips.

Her heart is ice cold, her piercing eyes bite like the bitter wind of winter. A slim view of fire rattling within her dark blue eyes, pupils dilate so much they practically turn black.

You feel your stomach tense, the pit in your stomach has once returned, denying you of what feels so real to you.

It’s just a game for her.

Always a game Caitlyn has to win.

“Fine. Then leave. But don’t come back next time, don’t text me when you’re lonely or horny, don’t call me when everyone else won’t hear you out. Forgot about me and let’s be done with it, yeah? Go back to those girls you love to fuck so much. The ones that are bright, shiny, untouched by your venomous heart.”

“I will. They sure will be a hell of a lot better lay than you, maybe they’ll let me fuck their ass.”

You scoff but your expression is stone cold as you watch her struggle to pull her clothes on. There’s no sudden movements made. Certainly no apologies.

Once Caitlyn fully dresses, she waits there as if you’ll change your mind. A wish she’s so desperately hanging onto as your eyes remain cold. A shiver is sent up her spine — you’d never been more ruthless — and for the first time her chest feels tight at the loss of you.

“It’s what you want. A pretty rich thing your mother will accept and the control in the bedroom you need since the real Kiramman controls every aspect of your life, even your love life. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

“You’ll come begging back, you always do.”

You want to choke Caitlyn with the smirk she’s currently wearing.

“We’ll see about that, Kirakiller. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

In an instant her face drops, her acute lips turning into a frown, cursing under her breath before she finally slams the door. It’s only then do you allow yourself to scream into your pillow, agony coursing through you, desperation, and most of all — a rage that wouldn’t be quenched.

—

The fairy lights, softly winking at you each time the sequence goes off. Violet craved to put them up around Christmas but never bothered to take them down. Perfectly, they fit with your shared home. The small apartment stuck between the suburbs and the city, close enough to campus where it was only a short drive, the two of you carpooling or Vi moving her schedule around to drop you off.

It happened to work out for the two of you. You didn’t think you’d get to be so lucky. Finding a decent roommate is a tall order, but now the two of you are inseparable and you couldn’t imagine your life any different.

If not for her, you didn’t think you'd survive spending the holidays alone.

Caitlyn made sure to isolate you but Violet holds you close.

The memory of new years solidifies the budding infatuation growing within you; as much as it excites you, it sends a freezing shiver down your spine. Like a bitter winter to an evergreen bush, who knows if it’ll last the season without one moment to be basked in the sun.

—

New Years Eve, 2024.

Sevika nursing an old fashioned. Trying to avoid the smell of cheap corona and budweiser intruding her relaxed nostrils as Mel sips on a glass of wine. Her smaller frame leans into Sevika’s arm looped through hers as their hips nearly become conjoined. They watch as Violet watches you. You’re standing there alone, fending off a few women who try to make a move on you.

Whispers of your former fling, Caitlyn Kiramman make their way across campus, the colossal cunt raging her anger during practice. Just as you’ve been reminded by her teammates who blame you for her toddler tantrum. Violet’s heart sinks to her chest as she watches Caitlyn make a straight shot for you.

The second she entered the room, Violet could feel the dread filling her body. Half because seeing her reminds her of all the horrors, everything she let Caitlyn do to her. Now, Caitlyn’s moved on to her next victim and she wonders if you’ll ever truly escape from her.

“Do you think we should–” Vi speaks softly, a murmur she didn’t intend for anyone else to hear. “...interrupt?”

“Calm down, casanova.” Sev interjects letting the whiskey soothe her throat.

“Easy for you to say, coupled up love birds.” Vi rolls her eyes as she watches the scene unfold before her.

The light in her eyes cracks, like a sparkler losing its flame. Each time Caitlyn attempts to worm back in your life, you’ve always let her. Even when she’s the last person who deserves even a moment of your time. It takes anything in her not to wince when you let Caitlyn touch your arm but after a moment you push her off.

Well, that’s new.

“You should go over there.” Mel chimes in, “Caitlyn would surely run for the hills then. She’s all bark but no bite.”

“Go be her knight in shining armor.” Sev says it like it’s a bad thing, her sarcasm biting into the air.

All Vi continues to scratch away at the label unraveling from the condensation, just as her heart rips each time Caitlyn gets closer to you. It’s a strange feeling. Her ex-girlfriend and the person she loves. Nearly spiteful her heart becomes, almost wanting to fling herself off a bridge. It’s more than Vi wishes to deal with and she tells herself she won’t.

You’re not worth the trouble, she’s just making her feelings bigger than they actually are, right?

Whatever Caitlyn says pisses you off enough to throw your drink in her face, coating her from hot to toe in the vodka cranberry Vi had made for you earlier in the night.

“You’ll eat those actions, babygirl. Next time, it’ll be you who is soaked and we both know it.”

Caitlyn screams for all to hear as she checks you with her shoulder before heading upstairs.

It’s five minutes before midnight and Violet watches as you crumble, running outside, needing to catch some air. You need something to make you feel less suffocated. Even with a drink thrown in her face, Caitlyn still finds a way to get an upper hand.

“Vi, would you be a dear and check on her? Sev and I will be there in a sec.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Violet sees you in the corner of her eye, trying not to break down, but she notices the tears threatening to spill.

“Don’t look so glum princess or you’re going to make me cry and nobody wants to see that.” The lightness of her tone makes you chuckle. Vi’s trying to make you laugh and she succeeds.

Everyone pours outside as the clock strikes closer to midnight, Mel and Sevika come out but they keep their distance. Vi kneels at your feet, gently wiping the tears away you finally let fall. The small hiccups leaving your chest as you feel inadequate, wondering if anyone would miss you if you just melted away — not a single trace of you to be found.

“She makes me feel so small, even when I leave, she wants more of me. I have nothing left to give.” You sob, hands shaking as you make fists trying to stabilize yourself. “No one understands how…how fucking awful and addicting she is.”

“I do.”

“Of course you, Violet. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. She’s just…”

“Frustrating?” You nod, trying to laugh off the heartbreak but the familiar glee doesn’t reach your eyes.

“And now I’m alone, on new years.” You say, cursing at the premature fireworks illuminating the sky. “While she goes to shag whoever wants to clean the vodka cranberry with their tongue.”

I want to taste the cranberry on yours.

Violet doesn’t speak those words. It’s just a dream — one that only drips in her mind until her thoughts pull at her like a pomegranate as it sheds from the skin.

“She’s an idiot for letting you go. Anyone here knows that.”

“Really? Funny ‘cause I’m here single. Caitlyn just wants me to crawl back to her with me on all fours just so she can say, i told you so, in that insufferable English accent. God, I wanna rip it from her throat.”

“Then don’t give her the satisfaction.”

“Easier said than done.” You say as everyone counts down from ten, “At least we still have each other.”

Vi smiles, her powder-blue eyes sweet on you. There’s nothing more she wants than to kiss you. But Vi will screw the both of you if she moves too quickly.

3…2…1!

The buzz of the party reaches an all-time high and you’ve never felt so close to hell. Watching as everyone kisses the person they love, the gleeful-holiday making them smile as they wrap in the warmth of their partner. Vi sees how sad you are, how close you are to breaking, so she does something stupid. An action that will only get her heart in all kinds of trouble.

Nearly almost planting her lips on yours, but saves herself with a peck to the apple of your cheeks.

She blushes and you smile.

She considers it to be a win when she gets a positive reaction from you. That’s all she really wants, to hear you laugh and you do.

Again.

The both of you speak nothing of it, the heartache too heavy and the love in Violet’s eyes too bright. You rest your head against her shoulder as the both of you watch the fireworks shining the midnight sky — it feels awfully like a fresh start.

God knows you could use one.

—

The last thing you want is to miss her but you do.

Longing instilled the moment she infected your blood; making each beat of your heart consistently flow for her. You couldn’t admit it, not her or yourself. It’s what she counts on. For you to slip, to venture back into the lion’s just so she can gut you from root to stem.

With your finger hovering over her number for the past few weeks, each time, nearly a moment from giving back into her needs. Not once had she called, texted, or even looked at your way. Not even when she sat across from you in the library last Monday. Before her tongue found home in the girl who threw herself in Caitlyn’s lap. Promptly deciding that was enough studying for the day.

The nights are the worst, you stay secluded in your room, tired of thinking about her and everything that’s transpired. How much you miss her, how much you love her — wondering if you ever should have — and how much you clung to this version of her that maybe just never existed.

It isn’t until Vi tries to get you out of the house that you realize how heartbroken you actually feel. How unbearable it would be to do anything but the bare minimum that’s expected for you to survive.

“C’mon, it won’t be bad.” Vi throws herself in bed with you, “You’re with me you’ll have a fantastic time.”

Vi cheekily smiles, “Plus, I can’t go without you. Those are the rules.”

“Oh really?” She nods, the sincerity reaching her eyes so blindingly, it makes the swell in your chest ache.

“Basically the law, so if you don’t want me to handcuff you, you’ll listen.”

Raising an eyebrow at the question, you watch her as your roommate goes into the closet and comes out with three dresses back in hand.

“You always look, um u-uh, really pretty in these.”

Violet’s always been like this. Unsure, a little bit flirty, and with a heart so gentle you would be too afraid to hold it in the palm of your hand. All it took was one introduction from Sevika and the two of you instantly clicked.

You cooked at the housewarming party for Mel and Sevika, in the middle of having a breakdown when you didn’t have crucial ingredients you thought you did have. It’s when Violet came to your rescue. Already in the kitchen watching you nearly have a panic attack over not being better prepared, she instantly grabbed the keys to her truck, off to assist.

With your former roommate flaking out after the second semester in your apartment off campus, and Violet coming off a messy breakup, the two of you helped each other out.

“Which one is your favorite?” It’s an innocent question.

It really is.

Then you remember the last time you wore it, Violet unable to keep her eyes off you when she thought you weren’t looking or how she would meet your eyes when you caught her staring. Dramatically clearing her throat as she scratches the nape of her neck, bashfully blushing.

“The black one. You always look beautiful, any of them really. That one is just my favorite.”

Feeling the fabric of the silk dress, the neckline is plunging and the back is open until it reaches your lower back and you don't dare bend down to pick up anything in this little number.

“Someone’s being sweet tonight.” You smile softly, kissing her cheek before you disappear into the bathroom. It’s long before you come out, but when you’re ready Vi nearly has to do a double take.

Visibly, she gulps.

Fuck, she forgot how amazing you look in that dress.

“Where’s it at this time?”

“You remember Natalie?”

“Oh?”

“It’s not—”

“I didn’t say it was.” But you’re smirking and Vi has no other option but to groan into her hands.

“You were thinking about it.” Harmlessly, you shrug.

“Regardless, it’s some new girl who’s gonna be on the team this season. It’s kind of a get together before the season starts.”

“You’re taking me to the kick-off banquet?” Vi winces as your voice shrieks, slightly piercing her eardrum in the process.

“Uh,” Vi runs a hand through her vibrant, messy head of hair. “Uh, yeah. It’s really not a big deal.”

“So, why not Natalie?”

“Does it matter?” Vi counters. She becomes uncomfortable about how she would have to answer the question. There wasn’t a way for her to answer without fully exposing herself so she pulls at her cuticles until she’s slightly bleeding before she stuffs them inside her pockets.

She doesn't want to have the conversation, and honestly, neither do you.

“The she-devil won’t be there. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? One night for yourself, there’s a little dancing, we can have a couple of drinks—”

“Y-You’ll dance with me…in front of everyone?” You sound more unsure of yourself than you ever have. The words are foreign on your tongue as if you’re speaking another language.

“Is that a statement or a question?” Vi chuckles before she stands up from your bed, “Give me ten minutes and we’ll head out. We can stop and get some burgers. The food they cater is ass anyways. All that money from the snobby rich parents and Piltover University can’t even splurge on anything decent.”

It doesn’t take long before she’s emerging into the living room, her white button up has the top three buttons undone, the tattoos creeping on the outside of her neck visible as does her name she has on her cheek. The one you chastise her for consistently.

“You ready?” Violet stuffs her essentials in her deep pockets before taking you in.

“Yeah, I think so, I was just waiting for you.”

She seriously has to assume your exes are severely ill for ever letting you out of their sight. Violet despises how rapid the beat of her heart is, how shaky her hands become when she offers a hand to help you off the couch. Only two nights ago, it was the two of you cuddled up, Vi shrieking in fear from your favorite horror film.

The terror in her powder-blue eyes made you laugh. Violet sees it as a big enough consolation for her downright distress.

You’re too gorgeous for your own good.

She may be pushing her luck tonight. Even pulling you out of bed makes her feel slightly accomplished. Between work and class, your mattress has been your chosen place to nurse your heartache. A few of your friends had been in and out, trying to get you to grab a fresh breath of air, or find the bottom of a bottle of tequila but all had failed.

“You look….” You bite your lip, watching as your eyes drag over her frame, overwhelmed by just how well she cleans up.

“That bad, huh?” Violet smirks as she makes her way over to you, and with your heels, she can’t help but admire your height. She supposes she does have a type. Who can blame her?

“Something like that.” Your face is burning, the world doesn’t seem so bleak when she locks the door with one hand, her left warm-calloused hand holding yours in a firm grip.

“How do I look?” You do a twirl, there’s a smile you try to contain when her eyes drag over you, taking all the time in the world as open the door to her truck, guiding you inside.

“You look beautiful but that’s no surprise, princess.”

The drive is quiet. Violet itches to place the palm of her hand on your thigh but she resists. With a quiet mind, she listens as you ramble about a new album you listened to earlier and she hands you her phone so you can play it. Immediately, you’re bewildered at the trust.

Caitlyn wouldn’t even let you use her phone when yours died. Ordering the uber herself as she left you on the curb as she took her sports car and faded into the intersecting street.

It’s only a twenty minute drive to the diner and the red neon sign greets you, the outside wall painted in a pastel-yellow, it’s gaudy and nearly unpleasant to the eye but there’s the charm about it. Zaun outlasted the gentrification of the corporate pollution, still one of the only places to remain standing and family owned.

You’re led to a booth where you both take a seat, glancing over the menu as you decide what you want, trying to make a decision in your mind is something that drowns you like a misty fog at the crack of dawn.

Finally you settle on a burger and so Violet. The conversation is easy with her. Everything seems to flow with a simpleness you find yourself reaching for. Like the last copy of your favorite book at the library, you crave to wrap your fingers around the crispy edges, sinking your smell into the spine of a new novel. Where the beginning feels like a first kiss — blissful notions of someone new — when the thought of love doesn’t seem so jarring.

Before you’re terrified of getting your heart shattered into a million pieces. Before love morphs into something violent, you turn to Violet and you wonder if she’s ever been scared to love. Does it come easy for her? Would she let herself go for the right person? You feel too broken to ever let yourself fall that freely again.

But she has blue eyes, a scar on her upper lip making her more charming, and tattoos adorning her back that only attribute to the surface level of her allure.

Shortly after you sink into your thoughts, ones you don’t believe you should even have, you're ravaging your burger when Violet notices the attention you're getting. It’s obvious. To everyone. But you just talk to her about anything but the elephant in the room, you’re so chatty tonight she might even think you’re nervous.

But it’s Vi. There’s nothing to ever be nervous about.

Nothing at all.

“God, this was such a good call. Who knew I needed to bury my sorrows in a pound of grease.”

“Carbs. They are a beautiful thing.” Vi winks, you chunk a fry at her but she catches it in her mouth.

You finish your food in silence, Vi smiling as she takes another sip from the cane-sugar coca cola. The sweetness of the syrup coats the back of her throat as she watches you watch her. She wants to say something but the timing is wrong. She wonders if you see a future or a rebound, maybe even just a friend, only time can tell and Vi fears she would wait a lifetime waiting for you to figure it out.

It’s how she loves. Free, without restrictions, even if she still mourns the love she once had burned to flames — you make her forget it all. Renewed in holy water, she basks in a touch that hasn’t scorned her, freely washing her of past sins.

“What happened to Natalie? I thought things were good.”

“For a time, yeah.” Violet says something without saying much.

“Vi, are you being coy?”

The blush coats her cheeks as she tries to shy away from the conversation. She feels the heat from your attention, the way her heart beats a million times per second as you have her cornered. Different in a way she would typically imagine when you came to mind. Even if she does try to stop herself, Vi can’t help but wonder about you and if you would feel the same way she does.

If you do and just aren’t allowing yourself to let go of the wall you have up in the horrendous shape of Caitlyn Kiramman.

The way you pry, your bold eyes slightly squinting at her as if you’re already figuring out the self-righteousness of the sinner. Secrets she hides under lock and key but even on a good day, the confession bubbles on her tongue as she catches herself choking on her own spit. You’re always so careful of the questions you leave hanging in the air.

In a moment of frustration, Violet thinks of how Caitlyn’s manipulative patterns may have sinked into your brain. She knows that much — the blue-haired witch has done the same to her. Making you question everyone’s motives, wondering if anyone could ever be truthful.

But others can.

Caitlyn can’t.

Vi distracts herself, avoids the question even if it is just a second to recollect her thoughts, a minute to buy time and divert from this conversation. It’s a truth she doesn't want unraveled.

“What’s the saying? Don’t kiss and tell.” She grumbles as she stuffs her face with another bite of the beefy patty. “But we just didn’t work out s’all. Plus, I’m not looking for anything serious I guess. She was.”

Another lie but Vi keeps her lips tight. She doesn’t need you to know why her latest attempt at a relationship blew up in her face, catastrophically.

“Maybe you and Kirakiller should date again.” You tease.

“Take that back. She’s the devil’s spawn and I’m still sorry you learned the difficult way. Just like me.”

“Well, she definitely lives up to the name.”

“I wish she would have changed her ways. You didn’t deserve to get hurt at all and especially by her.” Violet reaches across the table, soothing the back of your hand, rubbing circles into your skin. The action is sweet, lighting your skin ablaze with goosebumps as you watch her show affection, especially where other people can see.

At the moment, you want to be claimed by her. Marked as Violet’s girl and you would be proud to be. You close the thought from your mind as soon as it opens. This isn’t a date. Just because Violet flirts doesn’t mean she’s interested. The two of you are roommates.

Pull yourself together.

Jesus Christ.

She knows how much everyone can’t stop looking at you. The diner, outside the gas station even when Vi told you to stay in the car, and then the banquet. But you latched onto her, practically glued to her side as new sponsors came to speak with the new head captain. Vi’s nursing a beer when the music hits and she grins.

“Are you ready for this?”

What is she talking about?

Vi latches her hand with yours as she pulls you to the open floor, only a few couples begin to lightly sway to the classical being played. It’s different from what she was used to but she was nothing if not resourceful.

“I don’t bluff, princess, and I certainly don’t lie.” Vi tugs you close as you make no arguments, she leads as you find shining faith in her eyes.

It’s a new feeling, unfamiliar as it courses through your body. Vi isn't ashamed of you, as a friend, as a roommate; she’s full of warmth when she glances at you. Sending a sense of belonging through your skin, a home you want to throw yourself in before the foundation has even been laid.

Violet’s too good at this. You secretly love it but you pretend like you hate it. As if getting attention from someone as kind and hot as her is a bad thing. It’s nearly too much, almost making you sick with how much you’re enjoying being held by someone who actually wants to hold you.

She’s not playing chess and using you as a pawn.

It’s a recurring thought you have to remind yourself of, she’s not Caitlyn.

Violet doesn’t make promises she doesn’t keep, she doesn’t say careless compliments to only have sex with you. With a firm palm on your back, calluses kissing your spine, she’s looking at you — so much so it feels as if she’s looking right through you.

“You don’t have to—” She twirls you around before you can protest, guiding you back into her gentle care.

Vi shrugs, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me princess but I’d never go back on my word.”

The other couples start to move on the dance floor as each song blends into the next.

“That’s refreshing.”

Violet hand placed on your exposed back feels so warm it nearly burns her skin. Leaning in, leaning her head against yours. You smell of vanilla and something else entirely too sweet, maybe jasmine or fresh lilies. The delicate breath kissing your neck feels tempting. You would never consider yourself to be a siren, but with each promise laced up in your tongue, you wish to serenade her into a future with you.

“So are you, sweetheart.” Violet pulls away just enough to look at you, her temple presses against yours.

You can hear the shake in her breath, her grip around her back tightening like she’s trying to restrain herself. But she doesn’t restrain, she leans in, the tip of her pierced nose kissing yours. If either of you moved an inch forward, your lips could taste hers.

Is her chapstick cherry, strawberry, or maybe even blueberry? They look irresistible as the glisten, you need to crave the ache deriving from your bones. Violet has itched herself into every part of your life and she’s the only one to make you feel a sliver of joy again.

“We should…” The dazed woman doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for. This is all she’s been wanting but somehow her heart is pulling away, terrified to be crushed under the unforgiving weight of rejection.

“Yeah.” You say. Somehow understanding what she wishes for, silently you’re able to see her exposed skin, raw to the notion of a love dying to bloom in the beginning of spring.

Violet kisses your cheek again and somehow you feel the warmth of the fresh season. In the February rain, there is still sunshine spilling over the clouds — washing you in hope again.

—

The rest of your life fell back in place as if she never existed, except the ache in your heart that wouldn’t stop. You did your best to ignore it. Word got around Caitlyn went back to fiercely fucking. Apparently instead of sleeping just once a week while she was with you, she went back to her ever-growing appetite, nearly every night. It isn’t too difficult for her; not when there’s a line of women waiting to be at her beck and call.

You threw yourself into your studies, picking more shifts at the bar and hoping she doesn’t pull any of her usual stunts, showing up drunk and begging to fuck.

One more time, baby. This could be good for the both of us.

Caitlyn uprooted the past semester of uni and she didn’t even have the decency to apologize. All your friends with a knowing look of — I told you so — without actually dispersing the words from their tongue. It feels too much like a blurry dream but Sevika is good at making you smile. Even if you wanna throw yourself against a wall until the memory of Kirakiller fades for good.

The night had been busier than expected but nothing you and Sevika couldn’t handle. Even if there’s an ache in your knees, the muscles in your shoulders strained, it feels nice to just work. Everything flees your mind, all the insecurities bubbling inside you escaping to get out. The emotions you’re attempting to keep at bay and failing.

“You good, kid?”

“Yeah, life’s just a shit fire. Nothing new.”

Continuing to wipe the bar down for new customers, you clean off some glasses in front of you, as you dry your hands on a clean towel before tending to the other side of the bar.

The rest of the night comes to you in a blur. You’re flirty enough with the men to ensure a nice tip but when one tries to get too handsy, you tell them to fuck off or Sevika will throw them out. They eye up her frame as she makes her way over, height hitting at over six feet, her muscles visible through the fitted black tank she chose tonight. If you didn’t know any better, she would terrify you.

“Got a problem here?”

“I’m not sure, what about you boys? Do you think there’s an issue?”

With a quick shake to their heads, they take a nervous sip of their beer and the rest of the night goes along swimmingly. It’s last call when you spot the familiar pink-haired roommate, nursing her second bottle of beer it seems.

“How long has she been here?”

“Came during the rush for you, but didn’t wanna bother you. She’s been waiting for a few hours.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone goes high and squirrelly, murderous eyes finding her glimmering, silver eyes.

“Well, it's only Vi, right?” Sevika smirks.

That itself was a loaded question. If you’d been asked six months ago, it would have been a flat friend but now Vi had somehow turned into a friend. The almost-kiss you’ve been having dreams about. How she would kiss you — would it be tender — or would she be depraved about it in a way that would have you bruising your knees at the speed of lighting.

“Stop that. Vi is as harmless as a puppy.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Wasn’t Kirakiller here last month waiting for you and you didn’t bat an eye? Plus, the only thing she seems to be jealous of is Vi. The diva had a meltdown when she saw Vi picking you up after the end of your shift last week, or that’s just what I heard.”

“Mel needs to stop telling you so much.”

“Pillow talk. It’s a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?”

Rolling your eyes, you throw your apron at her, collecting your tips for the night. Vi still looks innocent as ever, Gert making friendly conversation with her as you just watch her. Her thick, wool beanie matches her hair and you can’t help but think of how cute she looks. Her fingerless gloves you always chastise her about, doing very little to keep her warm.

You knew she had a date tonight. Hell, it makes you nervous why she’s even here. Racking your brain with some excuse to get you out of this. What’s so important she couldn’t wait until you got home? She waits up for you every night. Doesn’t let herself fall asleep until she hears the familiar jingle of your keys outside the door. Pretending to read the book in her hands like she’s casually perched on the couch at three in the morning for any other reason.

“Well, she’s one of the good ones and I’m not.”

You’re frustrated as you split the tips, handing Sevika her half. Things with Vi had been more than complicated. You weren’t sure if you were over Caitlyn but you also knew things with Vi were getting closer to an edge you couldn’t come back from.

The flashbacks of the banquet you attended as her plus one just a few weeks ago haunt you. Her lips so close to yours, the hitch in her breath and whimper you let out that stopped it all.

You would be an idiot to ruin the best friend you’ve ever had. A deep secret buried in your mind tells you how much of a bigger idiot you would be if you let her slip right through your fingers.

“Doesn’t matter if you are or not. She sees something in you. Count yourself lucky. Oh, and before you head off Mel wants to invite you over for Valentine’s. Some big party she’s throwing. You know how she is. Be there or she’ll come and find you if you resist.”

The wink Sevika sends you is insufferable. Similar to her attitude this entire night.

“Yeah yeah, tell Mel I’ll be there.”

“Now that’s the loving spirit, lovergirl.”

You make your way over and Gert’s hand is touching Vi’s forearm, a look in your eyes that sends an annoying pit to your stomach. Gert’s eyes flutter and her smirk is evident but Vi only gulps when you make your way over.

Gert may just take your attitude for tiredness but Vi knows better. Your two seconds from blowing up the way your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding as you fight to act like a complete and utter cunt. Vi’s a very pretty girl. Women flirt with her all the time. It’s not anything you didn’t know but to see it up and close was new for you.

As was the jealousy practically sprouting out of you.

“Well call me, yeah?” Gert’s eyes sparkle, dodging you entirely as she walks away and into the back.

Violet gulps as it’s just the two of you.

“Why are you here?” You snip, arms crossed over your chest, unknowingly making your cleavage even more apparent. “Sev says you’ve been here for hours.”

“I came to see you but you looked busy.”

“Mhm, yeah. Busy. You look awfully busy.”

“Don’t do that.”

But you ignore her.

You rolled your eyes, the irritation raging within you. Fucking Gert. You drunkenly told her about your confusing feelings for Vi and she took that as Vi's single. It’s slim pickings out there but fuck, did Vi have to entertain it right in front you?

But you didn’t like to think about how she did. You weren’t dating, you weren’t fucking, you essentially were just roommates who cuddled sometimes, or went on these almost dates with and almost kissed.

Vi hasn't been dating since Natalie but she’s free to do as she pleases. It’s a colossal hit to your pride but you can’t be mad. You are, but you can’t be.

You really cannot be doing this.

Vi is just a friend. Only a friend. That’s it.

“I’m going but Gert will be off soon. Goodnight, Vi.”

It’s short and not so sweet. Swiftly turning around as you are practically running out the door. The chill of February hits you first and then you hear Vi and her voice calling after you but you just keep walking. Hoping she’ll give up and go back. You’re a lost cause, anyone with eyes can see it.

“Would you stop running away?” You turn around and Vi is so close that she runs into you, her arms wrapping around your waist to stop you from falling. “Jesus, are you insane? It’s fucking freezing out here. I don’t care if you’re mad right now, I’m driving us home.”

“Violet, let me—”

“No. You’re not getting sick. It’s past midnight. It’s not safe. We are not arguing about this.” You pout as she holds your hand and practically drags you back to her black truck. Opening the door for you as you get in, shutting the door once you’re situated before she gets in on the other side.

Igniting the engine, it revs on and while the car warms up Vi sighs, rather loudly. She’s always good about waiting until she calms down to speak. Letting the anger roll off her, the frustration you’re sure was caused by you. She slides the beanie off her head as the car reaches a normal temperature and runs her fingers through beautiful pink strands being kissed by the light of the moon.

The natural fluff to the strands is restored, no longer inflated by the beanie you had embroidered her full name on. You can’t keep your eyes off of her. She must feel it because Vi catches your gaze and instantly her eyes go soft. It’s too much so you turn your eyes away; focusing on the snow falling on the windshield.

“What’s going on? I’ve been patient for weeks but something changed and you’re not telling me.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“The truth would be a good place to start.”

Vi sighs, again, when you’re silent. No smartass rebuttal, no snide remark, not even an exasperated curse underneath your breath. Complete and utter silence.

But you feel trapped.

You’re terrified. Vi is too warm, loving, and painfully-pure. She might not know it, but she’s the girl you come back for. The one who you bring home to meet the family, the one who will bring you breakfast in bed when you feel under the weather and the one who will make sure you feel loved every single day.

When other people figure that out, if Gert does, it’s over for you. Because maybe it was foolish, pathetic, and possibly tragic but you were just trying to sort yourself out long enough to see if you want those things with her. Now, it’s only a matter of time before she dotes on someone else who can give her everything she deserves.

You should let her have this, it’s far better than her pleading eyes begging for something you’re not sure you can give. Caitlyn broke pieces you're not sure are repairable, parts of yourself that can’t be put back together. You didn’t even realize you had been crying until Vi’s wiping away your tears.

The pad of her thumb is careful as she wipes all the tears away.

“Tell me what’s wrong, princess. It’s just you and me.”

“I-I can’t. It’s too…I just can’t.” You confess, sniffling as you try and calm yourself down.

Vi guides you into the crook of neck as she does her best to hold you over the middle console of her truck. “It’s okay, princess. Shh, I’m right here.” It’s then that your sobs wrack your body and Vi decides she needs you as close as possible. Using her strength, she brings you into her lap, wrapping her tight arms around you as you sob into her neck. Salty tears stain Vi’s neck but she really doesn’t care.

All she cares about is you.

“It’s about Kiramman, isn't it?”

Vi can’t hide her disdain for the woman. That much is clear as day. Whatever happened with the two of them burned deep.

“Maybe murder isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Vi.” You chuckle half heartedly.

“There’s that smile..” You lift your head from the safety of her warmth, pressing your forehead against hers. Your breath is heavy on her lips, staring at the beautiful scar, the plumpness to her lips practically staring right at you. Close enough to see the constellations of freckles littered across her full cheeks.

Your timing is awful but your heart gives into Violet’s gaze, lips falling closer together to hers.

“Don’t make it like this.” Vi whispers, her powder-blue eyes gleaming at you.

“What?”

“Don’t kiss me for the first time because you’re sad about her. I can’t be her runner up. I’ve been playing that for too long.”

“I won’t kiss you, not if you don’t want me to.”

The tears are still fresh, but this need churning within you isn’t. Since the moment you met Vi, you’ve been fighting it. Fighting this.

“Fuck, I do but,” Vi stalls when you unzip her leather jacket, revealing her wrapped chest, abs on display. “Shit, princess.”

Fingers playing with the button of her trousers, waiting for her to push you away but she doesn’t. She does nothing of the sort. Vi’s breath is heavier than you’ve ever heard it. Looking down at your hands, waiting for you to pull the trigger on all of this. It’s then you realize Vi is letting you have all the control. If this is going to happen, she wants you to take it. It’s different from what you’re used to.

A choice.

It’s more than you could have expected. Vi isn’t pushing you away, isn’t telling you to stop. Not when you unbutton her pants and not when you suck on your fingers before slipping them beneath her boxers, feeling the soft curls and wondering if they match the drapes, before your fingers get perfectly acquainted with her.

“Oh fuck—” Vi curses as she grabs onto your ass, lifting the short skirt you’ve been wearing all night, rucking it up to your hips as she sinks her nails into the skin.

When you slip inside her, she clenches around your fingers, fucking her hips into your pace and Vi struggles to contain the whimpers. They flow out of her like a tidal wave. She’s been thinking about this moment with you for so long, just you and her — it’s the only thing Vi wants.

When Vi saw you tonight she thought it was absolutely ridiculous for you to wear this strapless top, only because your nipples poked through the small fabric, but now she’s grateful you did. It’s easy to slip as she sucks a pierced nipple into her mouth. Her tongue plays with the barbell, causing you to groan as she pinches and delicately pulls at the other. As Vi kitten licks your nipple, she finds home on your ass again, before ripping your panties off.

Her mouth is eager, hot, as she won’t stop giving attention to your chest. You’ve never wanted to kiss her more.

“Can you take two, princess?”

Eagerly you nod, a yearning yes falls from your lips. Vi doesn’t waste a beat.

You try to fuck Vi harder, but she doubles down on her efforts, her fingers so deep and you feel so full. Trying to chase the high, you ride her fingers, almost as if you were riding her, your ass unable to stop humping against her. It’s just the two of you, a silent competition to get the other one off first and you can feel Vi winning. Then she’s extending her thumb, rubbing circles on your clit, and you know you’ve lost.

“That’s it, just like that princess.”

“Vi, Vi, baby, oh my godddddd—”

Vi’s purely evil with every thrust of her fingers but she’s so full of light, an angel sent to you in your darkest hour. Batting her long eyelashes at you while she suckles on your bouncing tits, knuckle deep inside you as she gives you everything to just take. She’s too beautiful to look away from. With her pupils dilated, her blue eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them. Letting off your perfect tits with an obnoxious pop, she kisses up your sternum as she marks you with her lips everywhere but the place you actually want.

But then her words revere in your mind once again.

Don’t make it like this.

“Look at me.”

Eyes drifting back to her as she curls her fingers inside you, your grip on her hair iron tight, unwillingly to let go of you.

“Such a beautiful girl, so special, so pretty when you form a sentence. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. There’s no need to be jealous, babygirl, don’t need anyone else but you. Mhm, just you, alright? Yeah? Keep looking at me, yeah baby, just like this.”

You nod, close to the brink, her compliments send a rush through your head and your throbbing clit feels it.

The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

“Baby, I, shitttt Violettttt—”

The name of her full name, the first time she’s ever heard it fall from your lips since the first time you met. Vi’s too close and hearing you scream her name isn’t helping.

“C’mon, princess. Show me how pretty you can be.” Vi commands and you come undone around her fingers.

Arching your back against the steering wheel, and the horn blows.

You giggle and so does she but the soft moment is short lived as your body twitches, selfishly basking in the way you irrevocably coated her fingers in your cum.

Bringing Violet with you as you pull at her hair, her face planting on on your chest as your breasts smother her moans as she jumps off the cliff with you. Sucking at the flesh, marking what she craves as you fuck yourself on her fingers, her pace even more brutal as Vi coaxes you through your blindingly, hot orgasm.

“Just like that princess, pussy just can’t stop drenching for me, yeah? My pretty girl can paint my face next time. Do you want that? My face covered in your cum, dribbling down my chin, on my tits…you’ll clean me up though. A good girl like you will. So fuckin’ pretty.”

One slap to your ass has you trembling, body shaking and that’s when Vi lays off, her fingers slipping out of you and you feel so empty without her.

As if you didn’t need any more torture, you watch as she lavishes at her fingers, covered in your cum, her high cheekbones suctioning as she sucks every last drop. Vi smirks as you drool a little bit before you wipe the saliva off. Sweet as always, she doesn’t say a word. Saving you the embarrassment from a crude joke.

One Caitlyn would definitely make.

“Um, sorry, I think I got carried away.”

“We both did, it’s okay, Vi.”

There’s a soft silence, it would almost become cumbersome if it wasn’t so peaceful. The only thing you can hear is her exhale of breath as Vi tries to regain some composure. All of it feels complicated, the severed tie to Caitlyn doesn’t seem so entirely severed when her ex-girlfriend makes you come in the driver’s seat of her truck.

If anyone found out about this, about the two of you, it would be the talk of the town. Caitlyn’s exes making a victory lap in Kirakiller’s grave. The victory is so triumphant even the goddess on top of the mountain gets scorched. It’s your worst nightmare. Your wish is to coddle this as long as you can. Savor the feeling, keeping Vi under lock and key.

You just want to have this one thing for yourself.

Even if you are far from her reach, she has a way of making sure any good thing gets ripped from you, torn from your hands before you even have a second to enjoy. As much as you enjoyed her company, this complicates.

But it doesn’t stop your heart from thumping loudly. A shiver runs up your spine as Vi pulls down your skirt. There’s a tenderness to her touch as she fixes your top, covering your chest once again. You nearly lock your lips with hers when she rubs your full cheeks with the pad of her thumb, smoothing along her jaw as she leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. Unable to snuffle it, you smile.

It’s genuine when the light reaches your eyes. Vi says nothing, anything would be too heavy, something neither of you are ready for. A silent agreement to enjoy this moment for what it is.

“Are you doing anything for Valentines? Mel and Sevika are having this party and I thought you might wanna go together.” The panic surges through her powder-blue eyes the moment she asks the question.

Is that why she came tonight? Did she want to ask you?

Reminding you of the first night you met, a party and Sevika and Mel’s but you find yourself to be in an entirely different position. The idea of a date without the pressure, you’d be surrounded by your friends. But you tremor with the thought of Violet wanting to spend Valentine’s day with you.

“But it’s, um, perfectly fine if you already have plans. It's just I don’t want to spend it alone. Powder is off spending it with Ekko this year, Vander is doing god knows what and Silco well, that would just be pathetic if I asked him what his plans are. I really just—”

“Violet.”

Violet.

The second it rolls off your tongue, a crimson hue forms on her freckled cheeks, even spreading across the bridge of her nose before it coats the tips of her ears. A soft pink unlike her vibrant locks of messy hair, partially due to your tugging and pulling.

“Sorry, Vi. It just slipped.”

“No. I mean not no. I wasn’t trying to be rude. You can call me, Violet, if you want to.”

I like hearing you say my name, it sounds even more beautiful than when you whispered it falling apart on my fingers.

But Vi couldn’t say that.

“Well then, Violet, I would love to go with you. Count me in.”

She didn’t need to know you already had plans on going. This was much better.

—

Mel decides to take you up on the offer of studying at the library tonight. With your future hanging on by the thread that is your scholarship, you have to keep your grades airtight. Not to mention the downfall of your situation with Caitlyn only puts a bullseye on your back.

The first couple of hours have been silent for the two of you, the accountability keeping you in check to stay focused. Then the third hour approaches and the two of you start to quietly converse in the nearly vacant library.

“Did Sev tell you who came into Leagues last night?”

Shutting your book, your eyes squint in confusion.

“Kiramman.”

“I thought the ship had sailed away during that fight. God, it nearly made me want to strangle her and we all know violence is more of Sev’s choice of resolution.”

“It has. She likes checking in on her so-called…wounded. She’s never been one for grace. I wish she would make it less obvious, Leagues isn’t even her scene. Her pompous ass would never be caught dead in there when we were, well, whatever the fuck you would call us. But she’s been quite the regular ever since I cut things off.

It’s surprising she would come to you, but on the other hand, she didn’t know where you lived. It was the only straw for her to grasp on. It’s probably killing her to know she’s been blocked on everything, no contact, a complete ghost town. Almost as if none of you even existed together, just a memory faded, one you hope to burn into ash.

“Well, Vi was there hanging out with Gert and—”

“She was?”

Mel suddenly felt like she said something she shouldn’t have.

“Appearances can be deceiving, they did talk for a bit, yes, but how does that have any level of importance?” Mel can’t hide her lips upturning.

“Nothing.”

“Hey kid, lighten up. I think you’re two seconds away from snapping that pencil in half.” The rasp of Sevika’s voice pulls you back to earth, but it’s too late for the pencil as the infrastructure snaps. You feel like a child, caught in doing something they shouldn’t do.

“Oh, so this is a thing? Vi?” Mel almost speaks a little too loudly, her voice reaching endless limits as the object of your affection is named in the very silent library. “I just thought you wanted to make Kirakiller jealous. Not actually…”

You bury your head in your notebook, wanting to strangle Sevika as you hear her chuckle, taunting you as your traitorous heart fails you in your time of need. Maliciously giving you up as your tragic negligence exposes you truly.

Even if it’s silly, needy, or a little bit selfish — you wanted this one part of your life to be concealed from beady eyes.

“Finally coming to your senses.” Sevika taunts.

“Enough. I’m not…Violet and aren’t…that’s not what this is.”

Mel gives you a knowing look, arching her perfectly arched eyebrow, hazel eyes with a ring of gold surrounding them piercing so deeply into your soul. It almost has you stuttering out how you let her fuck you in Violet’s truck, driving you back home with her warm, soft hand on your exposed thigh. Absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.

“Violet?” Sevika and Mel say in unison.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Vi doesn’t let anyone call her that. The only one who's ever called her that is well, her family. She yelled at Kirakiller for calling her that whenever they fought. Vi looked like she could rip her tongue out.”

The information makes your head spin, there is only so much you can take.

“It’s just a name. Seems like Vi is preoccupied anyways. This is just so…”

“Hey Vi!”

You turn around, hearing her greet someone she was friendly with. In her athletic shorts and cleats, it’s clear practice had started again, her gym bag in tote. The sweat and grime layered over her face, the sleeves of her jersey rolled into her shoulders. With each movement, her muscles rippled in the dim lighting of the library.

The navy blue jersey complimented her vibrant strands of pink, she laughs at whoever she’s talking to and she looks so happy and at peace, it makes your heart soar. Rugby always made her the happiest. Vander and Vi used to play when she was just a girl, even Powder joined as they got older but when Violet got stronger, she restricted for playing seriously with classmates her own size and not old men whose knees could give out in any second.

She still doesn’t see you and you want to keep it that way so you turn around, minding your own even if your two closest friends in the world just watched you gawk over Violet.

“It’s just going to get worse. Living together. It’s only a matter of time until one of you…” Sevika gestures to the pencil lying broken on the table.

“Well, try not to act too disheartened at the party. Vi said she’s bringing someone. I’m sure it won’t work out between them. Ever since she’s gotten here she hasn’t been able to—”

Sevika places her hand on Mel, to cue her to silence herself as Vi walks up to the table, grabbing the chair closest to you and discreetly pushes it even closer to you when she takes her seat.

Immediately, you chastise yourself for loving how turned on you are by her sweaty body, her muscles clearly acquiring the pump from her practice, those stupid strong calves brushing against yours. You admire the scar against her top lip. Tattoos on display, making your head feel dizzy, and she leans over and asks if she can have a couple of your orange slices. Before falling right back in conversation with Sevika.

Violet does anything to be close to you. Mel and you are engrossed in a conversation, when she shows you the video you were discussing, Vi has to lean over to see. Her arm hanging off your shoulder, her neck craning to see but when she sits back, she keeps her arm around the back of your chair.

“How did practice go today?” You ask.

“Fine.” But the grass stains on her shirt tell you differently, so does the burn on her exposed shin.

“Who the fuck did you let kick your ass?” Sevika interjects before you have the chance to.

“Can’t kick Kirakiller’s ass. Dean Kiramman might throw me out faster than I can blink. I’m already on thin ice and Kirakiller just made it worse. She doesn’t like losing.”

Violet glances at you, her expression unreadable as she turns her attention back to Sevika.

“Got outvoted for Team Captain and she can’t fucking stand it. You know the pompous Kirammans don't believe in democracy. One for all and all for none. Some bullshit Kirakiller says while she’s trying to out-bench me in the weight room. Not my fucking problem. Hasn’t been for a while. She went in for some cheap blows during drills. It is what it is.”

Sevika nods her head, “Seems like you did a real number on her. She shouldn’t have fumbled half of this table.”

“Sev.” You shoot a glaring warning.

Violet visibly tenses but she doesn’t remove her arm, Mel elbowing Sev in the gut softly before she coughs up a quiet apology. The tension could be cut with a knife, but Violet just plays with the material of your cotton shirt, soothing herself as she tries to forget.

“Right, yep.” An awkward silence disperses before Mel and Sevika excuse themselves leaving you and Violet alone.

“Violet, I can talk to her. She shouldn’t be taking this out on you. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not you, alright? Not directly. Caitlyn likes to hurt when she’s hurt. I can handle her.”

Vi chew on her lip, breaking through skin as blood comes to the surface, the iron taste coating her tongue.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question Violet.

“She knows she can’t lash out at the one thing she wants.”

The one thing we both want, Vi thinks to herself.

She takes the brunt of Caitlyn’s anger and she doesn’t even know why. Maybe an understanding but doesn’t know the full picture. You’re too much of a coward to let it slip. If everything goes south, the woman you adored could truly hate you and that’s the last thing you wanted. It’s silly to even hide a secret. Especially when you feel as if she sees right through your heart when her curious blue eyes look at you.

“Trust me, I’m playing against what I want but she’s not as done as you think she is. She’ll come back for you, princess. You’re someone anyone would come back for. I’m the low totem pole trash found underneath her designer sole, there’s never been a place for me in her life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No, it isn’t. You’re more than how she treated you. Don’t talk about yourself like that. It’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

Vi nods, tries to offer a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“What really happened? You look banged up and it looks more than just a rough practice. You know you can tell me anything. I’m all ears for you.”

Vi struggles for a moment, and contemplates on telling you the truth. You deserve to know the truth and she knows that but she also can’t stand for Caitlyn to hurt another piece of you. This entire time apart from Caitlyn, you’ve done your best to separate and get over her. She can’t be the person to make you feel any worse about the situation.

Caitlyn can’t get more in the way, she won’t allow it.

“Kiramman just being a cunt, okay? It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Okay but I’m cleaning that cut on your arm when we get home.” You nudge your shoulder against hers. Talking solace as she places her head in the crook of your neck.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

Then the question nags in the back of your mind, I saw her with Gert. But you’re putting her with Caitlyn. You think she’s cheating on you but there’s isn’t anything to cheat on. You’ve never spoken about that night in her pick-up truck but still dream of it.

Luscious, greedy cunt taking her fingers in ease as you fucked her to completion. The whines she made, how harmonious they were with your own. The image stays imprinted on your mind, scorching the deepest depths of your mind for all eternity to see.

But it’s not everyone taking a look.

It’s just you. Keeping a lid on it has been more than you bargained for. Vi is the person who has been there to help you. When you’ve felt like the cards are stacked against you, it’s her that pulls you out. Every day after the breakup, if you could even call it that, you evidently were just a warm body to fuck for Caitlyn, Violet was there to make sure you were okay.

The daily check-ins, making sure you were staying hydrated through all the tears, cooking dinner for the both of you when she knows you skipped lunch. It’s the little things you’re beating yourself up over and it makes you wonder what was really going on.

If Caitlyn had taught you anything, it was people did fuck you because that’s the only thing they want. But you wanted Violet to be different. More than you ever had than Caitlyn, you need her to be more than what you’ve always been.

“Are you alright, princess? Lost you there for a second.”

You hope she never does. And you never want to lose her. You swallow your jealousy, you decide to trust, despite your best efforts; your heart remains unprotected. You chose blind trust, even if you know better, you lean into the faith.

“Yeah, I’m here with you. Promise.”

—

There’s red, pink, and white — everywhere. Mel is passionate about Valentine's day. In weeks of build up, this party is all she spoke of. Dragging you along to shop when buying decorations, but you didn’t mind. Sevika covering you at the bar means one less shift this week. After last night’s events, you could use the breather.

If Sev wasn’t there, putting the men in place, the status of your safety would severely be in question. Vi came after you called, just complaining about it on your break, and thirty minutes later she sat on your section of the bar with one of her favorite books in hand.

“You didn’t have to come. See? Still in one piece.”

“Mhm and that’s how I want you to stay. Sorry princess, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s not like you needed any more reason to enjoy her company. You have too many. And they come to your mind as needy as a bee to honey. It’s why you bail on coming as a pair, you had a valid excuse, but you also knew if Mel knew why you were helping decorate their home she would literally kick you back to be with Violet.

Hanging the banner in the entry was the last of your duties and before you knew it everyone was shuffling in one by one. The party is in full swing by the time Violet walks in the front door and you nearly collapse from just how damn good she looks. A bouquet of flowers, an assortment of pink and yellow roses with a few lilies meticulously placed in the arrangement.

“I hope it’s not too much but I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“They are beautiful, Violet. You really didn’t have to.”

She smiles as she leans in to kiss your temple, “Of course I did.”

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, the games Mel has planned are fun. Everyone engages with each other and it is surprisingly pleasant. The only unsettling feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is the ginger in the corner who has been eyeing you all night but the shirley temples you’ve been drinking all night has you dazed, sitting on Violet’s lap with her arms wrapped around your waist.

Vi’s a bit inebriated as she plays with the hem of your dress, whispering how beautiful you look in your ear. You fidget in her hold, grinding against her even when you’re really not even meaning to.

Astoundingly, the door slams, her arrival being announced.

Uninvited and as prompt as ever.

“Oh, so this—“ Caitlyn gestures to Vi as if she’s the sticky gum on the bottom of her overpriced sneaker, “my leftovers is why you chose to end things?”

She’s charging as the ginger gets up from her seat, trying to hold Caitlyn back but she fails but in an instant, Vi stands up. Every protective bone in her body goes hyperactive, proving herself as a blockade between you and the devil herself. The smirk Vi wears makes Caitlyn violently scowl. She may be taller, but she’s smaller, thinner, not packing nearly as much muscle in her punch.

There was nothing she would love more than to punch that stupid, coy fucking smile off her face.

“What are you gonna do, cupcake?” She says the once endearing nickname, crathing to slither underneath her skin, she wants to piss her off to no end. Make Caitlyn regret ever fucking with either of you. It’s all this ever was, a game. Kiramman’s are always desperate to win, to annihilate your opponent. Any future moves made would be contingent in how she made you feel.

“Get out of my way, Violet.”

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out. And what are you going to do about it? Everyone may be afraid of you outside of the field, but in case you have forgotten, this isn't on campus where things are done the Kiramman way. If you wanna take a cheap shot at me, better make it count.”

With a careful gaze, Caitlyn’s eyes beam down to the hand clinging to Vi’s bicep, how you’re looking at Vi and touching her skin and how dreadful you look to her.

She directs her voice to you, “What? You’re gonna pick her over me? Like we mean nothing?”

Bitterly, you laugh, but it isn’t funny. Not one bit.

“It’s painful, isn’t it? Being on the other side of it.” Taking a step forward, leaning against Violet’s shoulder, intertwining your fingers together. “Those were your words exactly, Kiramman. This is nothing.”

“I–” For the first time, right before your eyes, she’s stunned. For the first time since she’s met you, she’s speechless.

“Caitlyn, we should just–”

“Maddie, enough.”

The both of you have done more than just rattle her, you’ve surprised her and Violet would be smiling so damn wide if Caitlyn still wasn’t in front of her.

“Baby, can we talk about this? Just a minute of your time and we can sort this out.” Violet won’t stand for the desperate pleas for a moment longer. She takes a step forward, getting in Kiramman’s face, “I think you and your little orange muppet should get the fuck out before I throw you out myself.”

“This isn’t any of your business, Vi.”

“When you’re talking to my girl like that, it really fucking is.”

My girl.

Violet seems to be two seconds away from physically throwing her out when Mel finally interjects. “Caitlyn, you are unwelcome, uninvited, and you’re trespassing. I ask that you please leave before other extreme measures need to be taken.”

A venomous scoff leaves her lips as Maddie drags her away, slamming the door on her way out.

You're rattled, but not from Caitlyn, but from the assertiveness you didn’t know Vi possessed. The implications of this would serve consequences to not just Vi but to you but you couldn’t focus on that right now. She had called you her girl.

Vi’s girl.

“Well now that’s out of the way…” Mel jokes, lightening the mood as the party jumps back in full swing. But all you hear is Vi’s voice calling you hers and it’s like she knows what you’re thinking of when she spares a glance.

“I’m sorry it just slipped but I couldn’t stand her looking at you like that. Like you were some piece of meat she can have whenever she wants.” Violet apologizes. Rubbing the back of your hand with your thumb, tracing her name into your skin.

“It’s okay, um, it was actually really hot…” Immediately, she takes a step forward in an effort to be closer to you. “I-I’ve never really seen you be so uh–”

“What princess?” Mischievously, she girls her head, biting her lip right before she licks them, her tongue piercing teasing you.

“I dunno…it was just really hot seeing you like that…calling me that.”

“My girl?” Vi smiles. It’s so genuine, making you swoon with a sincerity only she can give.

“Yeah, something like that, maybe.”

“I can call you a lot more things if you want. Wanna take a bet if they actually locked their bathroom?”

Neither of you have ever moved so quickly in your life. Clothes get thrown on the tile the minute the two of you are alone, pressing your frame against the door as she decorates your neck in sovereign possession. She never wants anyone to question, you’re her girl.

“Vi, do you, fuccckkkk, really think this is a good idea?” She only grunts in reply as you're nearly fully exposed, your weeping cunt grinding against the muscular thigh she offers so graciously. Your friendship with her hangs in the balance, and you don’t want to think about that right now but you can’t help but have your doubts.

“We can stop if you want to. Whatever you want.” Vi moves to remove her thigh until you whimper, tugging her closer by her pink hair towards you.

“I didn’t say that. Please, don’t stop.”

“Mhm, okay princess but only because you asked so nicely.”

Vi pushes her against your pussy, your hips falling more erratic as Violet gets lost in your neck. Lips marking whatever inch of skin they can find as your folds get the needed friction from her trousers. Blindly sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear, making you putty in her hands.

With a tight grip, you pull at her vibrant hair, her roots grounding you as the build in the pit of your stomach increases. But she pulls away just when you’re getting close. If your hands didn’t have the edge of the sink to hold onto, you’re not sure your legs would have supported you.

“Did you want to stop?”

“No.” Vi smirks.

“Then why the hell did you?”

She says nothing, infuriating you further. It almost pisses you off to the point where it’s painful. Vi keeps smirking at god knows what. Maybe she finds you just as pathetic as Caitlyn does. It may have been a distant future, when Caitlyn had actually been decent in her freshman year, her and Vi were the talk of the town until it all abruptly ended and no one knew why. You’ve never asked.

Vi’s friendly with you but not to the point where she’s an open book. She’s hardly an open book with anyone, she’s careful when she hooks up with others. Especially with the who, she doesn’t want someone who's going to go off and tell the rest of campus how many fingers she used while she makes them come.

But now, you like her. Really fucking badly.

The way she snapped on her, protecting you, nearly connecting her fist with Caitlyn’s sharp jawline. It’s one of the reasons you’re in here with her. But still, not knowing the reason makes you feel slightly unsettled.

There's been different rumors over the past few years surrounding Vi the sweetest girl around and Kirakiller. All of them painting Caitlyn in a god awful light.

Kirakiller cheated on Vi.

Vi left because Kirakiller didn’t want to make things official.

Kirakiller‘s tenacious appetite for the bedroom couldn’t be satisfied by Vi.

Kirakiller said Vi couldn’t make her come.

The list goes on and on, and on. Neither of them were seen to be around each other again, not until Caitlyn seemed to catch you in her web. It was the sin of the century. Vi’s roommate seeing her ex-girlfriend. It was messy to say the least. A few long weeks and you cooking Vi her favorite meal, buying her favorite sour candy in bulk, along with some new gadget for her computer she’d been wanting.

It’s all it took to forgive you. Her only request was to keep Caitlyn out of the apartment while she was here. She never spoke about her again and you never pressed the wound. If Vi didn’t ever want to talk about it but why they broke up gnawed at you.

But Violet doesn’t seem to give a shit about that right now.

“Get on your knees, princess.”

You obliged as Vi took off the sweater, revealing a grey fitted tank-top, showing off just how fit she stayed in the crisp of winter.

“Good girl. Now, take off my belt, yeah?”

You released the belt from the latch, pulling it through the loop and handing it to Vi. Her firm grip grabs the belt, as she kneels behind you, bounding your wrists together by the smooth, cold leather. It’s black with a silver clasp, it feels nice against your wrists as she tightens it. As far as you can tell, it’s new and it makes you wonder if she bought it for just an occasion like this.

Wrists bound behind your back, Vi slaps the fat of your ass before soothing over with delicate fingers, the calloused pads of her fingers playing with your puckered hole as she thumbs it gently.

Pulling it back for a moment, collecting saliva in her warm mouth before drooling over your ass. Smothering her own spit, a place you’d never let anyone touch. You've convinced yourself all this time it’s because of your boundaries but when Vi did it, you didn’t have a problem with it. Then you realize you have trust with Vi, one you hadn’t had with anyone else.

It was just a spur of the moment, two horny girls lonely and single, needing someone else but you also know Vi wasn’t one to sleep with half the campus. She’s a one-woman kind of girl. Maybe you need that trust.

You’re hesitant, still but you can’t bring yourself to say no. She’s attentive, making sure you’re alright with each moment. Not wanting to push you past a limit both of you can’t come back from.

“Is this alright?” Vi whispers into your ear as if she can read your mind.

“Yeah, it’s good.” You take a beat before moaning as you lean into her chest, “A little too good.”

Vi chuckles into your ear, the vibrations tingle throughout your body. Suddenly your mind is wondering how a simple giggle can make you feel so soaked. With a gentle hand, her thumb keeps on playing with your ass as she maneuvers you into her lap and that’s when you feel it.

A faux cock.

“Is that a—” You want to ask but for the first time in your life, you feel shy.

“A cock?”

“Someone’s cocky.”

You both giggle at your innuendo.

Lightly, with soaked fingers she pulls out of your lips, she rims your puckered hole, a coveted limit in your body but with her, you so freely wish to give it.

The eye contact feels awfully intimate but you can’t bring yourself to tear yourself away. It’s entirely new to you. Caitlyn never liked to look you in the eyes when she fucked you. Always something to hide, how she truly feels about you is privy to anyone else but her.

You didn’t have the right to know.

With Vi, everything becomes so clear.

It’s crystal clear when she asks if she can slide a finger inside your ass, it’s overly intimate when you tell her yes as your eyes never leave hers. Her eyes are as hooded as you’ve ever seen them but she won’t break eye contact. Not for a second. You’re questioning if she’s even blinking.

With each passing second, her pink hair surrounds you as her forehead pressed against yours, blue eyes open as she asks again if you’re okay with it. You give her another yes before her middle finger slides in your mouth, your tongue circling the digit before sucking on it dramatically. Letting off with a pop, Vi teases your forbidden hole one more time before she gently coaxes you open for her.

“Shit, Shit, that’s—” You squint your eyes shut. The new sensation is a little too much for your brain to process much less the fluttering pressure in the pit of your stomach.

“Look at me, princess. Keep your eyes on me, alright?” Vi lightly commands, her tone as sweet as you’ve ever heard it.

With the sweet words thrown your way, your eyes flutter open, long eyelashes kissing your brow bone. Vi smiles softly, her top lip lifting as she sees the way you’re looking at her.

Kirakiller is so fucking stupid, Vi thinks to herself be she keeps the words to herself.

Vi stretches you more as her entire finger sits within you, waiting for you to be ready for more and when you are, she nearly comes herself. You’re louder than anyone she’s ever been with. She’s thankful for the loud music Mel insisted on, some shitty pop tune drowning out the two of you. Violet’s never been so thankful.

Those shitty pop tunes are drowning the especially deafening screams of Vi’s name until your vocal chords are shot. With a strong wrist and the flick of her wrist, she can tell you’re already close.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before.” Shining eyes are glossy as ever as you struggle to keep them open and focused on her. “Never felt this, shiiiittttt, Vi, please. I’m so close.”

“What do you mean? Has no one ever fucked your ass? You’ve been sleeping with Kiramman. How have you not—”

“Never let her.” That sends Vi’s clit throbbing viciously.

“Kirakiller’s an ass lover, everyone knows that.”

“Are we gonna sit her talking about her the entire time or are you gonna make me come?” Agitating you roll your eyes but Vi licks her lips slowly as a distraction, pulling your attention to her pierced tongue and then you feel another finger stretch at your ass.

“What did you say, princess? Something about coming?” Vi uses another finger, her long digits spreading the slit in your lower lips, making a mess as she spreads the pre-cum spilling out of you. “Be a good girl won’t you?” Vi pinches your clit and just like that your eyes shut again, a completely shattering orgasm washed over you.

Body twitching as Vi keeps you in her hold with a strong grip, your body riding against her fingers but she isn’t too pleased for a moment as she tuts.

“What did I say princess? Eyes open, now.” You struggle, again, but you’re able to meet her demand. There’s an urge to look away, to hide in Vi’s pink hair, her tattooed neck, but you do none of it. Dangerous eyes look at yours as she fucks you through it. You wanted to tug at her hair, pull her closer to you, but hands are bound so all you can do is take it, with loud moans being released, ones you’re trying to control but utterly fail to do so.

“So pretty like this, yeah? God, those gorgeous eyes of yours are gonna get me in trouble. Crying for me like that, makes me wanna take you back to our home and fuck you on my bed, baby. You’re such a beautiful girl and deserve to be treated like one, my sweet girl.”

Vi isn’t sure if you’re crying from the intimacy or from the orgasm, probably both. It’s not a secret since the start of the semester you’d been with Kiramman but Vi knew first hand what that meant. There’s no eye contact, no cuddling, no reassurances, it’s just sex. When Vi was going through it herself, she could see the toll it even took on Caitlyn but she didn't break. Her resolve is rock solid and Vi had learned it the hard way, just as she supposed you did.

It was an endless cycle and it seems Kiramman continued it again with you. It’s evil the way she pulls you apart, makes each part of you feel special, like you’re her entire world and there’s no one else but there always is someone else. Always. Kiramman will lie through her perfectly aligned teeth but there is always someone she keeps for a backup.

Vi wipes away your tears as she soothes you with soft whispers and delicate hands running up and down your back. It feels like the easiest thing she’s done, soothing you into serenity. With gentle care, she takes the belt off of your wrists, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive skin as you come back to yourself. The alcohol feels like a memory. Her kindness makes your head spin and your heart flutter.

Now, you understand why the two of them never worked.

Vi is everything Caitlyn struggles to be.

It’s like looking in a mirror of everything you want to be but knowing you’ll never be her. The imperfection of Caitlyn’s kindness and the overabundance of Vi’s is probably too much of a bruise to her ego. One could see how much it would eat her alive. Vi helps you relocate your clothes that are scattered across the bathroom floor. Shamelessly, she watches as you dress yourself again, not one to look away from the woman she had screaming her name not even five minutes prior.

“You’re so beautiful, can’t keep my eyes off you.”

“C’mon Violet. We live together, I’m the same ole’ me. Now, you’ve just fucked my ass.” You try to brush off the compliment. You feel more similar to Caitlyn then you’d like to admit. Vi’s wholeheartedness is overwhelming, leaving a sting of longing every time she looks at you with a light in her curious eyes.

You slip on your dress and Vi is quick to zip you up but not without kissing the nape of your neck.

Tonight’s actions suddenly feel very sobering.

Vi isn’t done with you as she lifts you up on the countertop, finding her sweatshirt before she covers her toned figure again. You’re wondering what she’s playing at. What she’s thinking about. Vi finds your heels, the versace platform heels Caitlyn had gifted you for your birthday a week after the fact. A pity gift. Similar to herself, you couldn’t say no, it was just too pretty.

They’re too expensive to come from a broke college student. Vi knows where they came from but she exercises that tight lip of hers.

With a gentle tap, she taps your calf lightly a couple times and you offer your leg to her as she slaps the heel back onto your feet, clasping the strap around your ankle before she does the same for the other. The both of you stare at the lingering hands on your thighs, rubbing soft circles into the skin, the bluntness of her fingernail causes goosebumps to spread across the skin.

Caitlyn is terrified of this, something so soft and fragile, her grip would be too tight; she’d break you in the process. She’s a chapter you want to close. All you want now is the woman in front of you.

Vi has only ever been just a friend and she treats you like this. An imaginative mind, one of your own making, starts to wonder…if Vi was in love with Caitlyn, was she even sweeter to her? If her golden heart wasn’t enough for Caitlyn, whose would it be?

The question makes you lost on the idea. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity of being fucked like you just were, but you see Vi an entirely new light. One that feels as blinding as the sun but she’s smothering you with a perfect amount of warmth.

“So…that happened.” Lightly, Vi laughs trying to brush off the seriousness of the moment.

“Yeah and it seems you came packing.”

Mel has been talking her up all week, telling her she wasn’t just seeing things, all she had to do was give you space and you would come to her slowly. It seems like Mel hadn’t been totally wrong. You are clearly attracted to her but the more protective side of her mind wonders if this is all that it extends to — sex.

The flashback of Caitlyn and all her little twisted games comes to mind while your curious eyes inspect her intensely.

“It’s just a stroke of optimism.” Vi tries to control her breathing when you close your legs around her waist, crossing your legs over the other as you lock her into a secure position.

The tight dress you’re wearing bunches up again, almost resting on your hips.

“I think you were wanting to stroke something else.”

“Uh. No. I was, definitely…okay…maybe I was. A little bit.” Vi admits as you continue to play with her hair, your heel lightly grazing her bum as you tease her for just a little bit longer.

“It’s cute. I like it when you’re confident. You packed a cock in your pants because you wanted to fucked me tonight. Be proud about it. Yeah, maybe you didn’t get to use it but you sure did fuck me.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You’re so brave. Nothing stands in your way, when you want something you go after it. I could never do that.”

“Well, you kinda did. Unless, um—” But the words die in your throat. Suddenly they seem too real and if you tell her, this whole charade will be over, reality will set in and this magical night will only be reduced to primal, drunken needs.

For all you know, Vi didn’t mean any of this. Maybe you just wanted to get your pussy wet, wanted to fuck a pretty girl, needed to see some tits to get her through this lonely holiday. The one that patronizes the single.

Maybe that’s all this is. You’re just a nice piece of ass to fuck. It makes you feel dirty, the air feels thinner, and before you know it Vi’s whispering in your ear to take deep breaths.

“Princess, I’m right here, alright. Just breathe and tell me. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I-I just thought because you know, well, after the last month I thought I was more than just…”

“A girl I wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you are. Would that be such a bad thing? I know with Caitlyn you had something casual, and maybe you liked things that way, but I want something more serious. I don't want to play with your feelings and I don’t want you to play mine. If this is what you want then I think it’d be worth a shot but if not, we can just be friends, alright? There’s no pressure.”

“But Natalie…you said she wanted something serious and you didn’t.”

“I lied to you and I’m sorry for that. But I wanted something serious, just not with her.”

“You know what you want.” You stated it more like a question, puzzled and perplexed about a woman, for the first time, saying exactly what she’s looking for.

“Well…yeah? I respect you enough not to waste your time.” Her eyes gleam, expectant and waiting for you to answer.

“I’ve never had someone so honest with me. I kinda don’t know what to do with it.”

The most sincere eyes look into yours, as she leans into your fingers that play with her vibrant, violet hair. It’s all so fast but Vi nurtures everything once broken within you until you’re healthy once again, restoring the strength you once felt before your heart stopped listening to your head.

It’s a warm, comforting feeling you want to sink into. She’s the closest you’ve had to a semblance of hope. You wondered how anyone could ever let go of her. It wasn’t that she had just given you the best orgasm of your life, it was more than that. Vi made you feel more in thirty minutes than Caitlyn had in your entire time together.

There wasn’t a worry in the back of your mind if this mattered, if you mattered. Her eyes were so open, letting you into the love dripped like honey, full of sweetness, every empty jar of yours waiting to be filled.

“Don’t do anything right now then. For now,” Vi leaned forward, her lips ghosting yours. Close enough where her breath could be felt on yours. “I don’t know where you’re at but I’ve never felt like this, about anyone, and if you wanna start slow we can. Although, we have twice now so I don’t know how slow we can actually go, or we could even go on real date and then you can decide but—”

“Violet?”

“Yeah?”

“You talk too much.”

You lean in and Vi doesn’t waste the opportunity, capturing your top lip between hers, wanting nothing more than to get lost in every inch of you. Holding you like a delicate flower she’s afraid to crumple in her hands, Vi lets herself get lost in this.

For once she doesn’t think of the consequences, if this is moving too fast, wondering what Caitlyn would do if she knew and who she would actually be jealous of. It’s a slippery slope, you messing with her, Vi messing with you.

But she desperately wants it to be more than your roommate, more than a friend — more than secret meeting where Vi fucks you senseless. She can’t get into this and for it to mean nothing and she’s terrified Caitlyn already has her claws dung in deep to you. Then there’s a moan of Vi’s name being said, and her greedy tongue slips in your mouth as she aches for more of you.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling your frame impossibly close to her, commanding your mouth with her pierced tongue as if she was born for it, the coolness of the stainless steel ball tangled with your tongue is a high you want to chase. With every touch, a shiver runs up her spine, like there’s a live wire exposed within you and only her touch can spark it alive.

Vi knows where you want to be touched before you say a word, like she has a connection to your mechanisms, every craving designed for her to carry out as if she’s the one who put them there in the first place. Violet’s pelvis presses against yours, as she gives you the kiss of your life, it leaves you breathless as you chase her lips, your grip pulling at her roots as if it’s your sole purpose in life.

The rest of the world melts away and it’s just the two of you. The lingering shadow of your ex fades into the background and all you see is Violet. Right under your nose this entire time and only now do you realize just how wonderfully perfect she is.

Violet ravishes in how good it feels to be chosen and it’s by you.

The angel who can fly all on her own now; wings no longer clipped by the devil herself.

Fin.

#❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 ❞#(ᝰ.ᐟ) arcane works.#vi arcane #vi x reader #vi smut #vi arcane x reader #vi x you #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman smut

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solxamber · 3 days ago

Text

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Pomefiore

Go here for other dorms

Vil Schoenheit

The second you step into Pomefiore’s lounge, you realize Vil has been waiting for you.

He’s seated elegantly by the window, his posture perfect, a teacup balanced between his fingers. His gaze flickers up the moment you enter, sharp, knowing.

You hesitate. How does he already look so smug?

Still, you square your shoulders and walk up to him, holding out the chocolates. “These are for you,” you say, voice steady.

Vil sets his cup down with a soft clink, taking the heart-shaped box from your hands with the same effortless grace as everything else he does. He turns it in his fingers, inspecting it—not because he doubts it, but because he already knows exactly what this is.

Then, before you can even gather the nerve to confess—

“I accept,” he says simply.

You blink. “Wait—what?”

Vil raises a brow. “What? You thought you were being subtle?”

Your stomach drops.

“You’re many things, sweet potato,” he continues, setting the chocolates down beside him with care, “but subtle about your affections? Let’s not joke around.”

Oh. Oh, this smug—

Your face burns as you cross your arms. “Okay, well, maybe I was obvious, but you could’ve let me confess first.”

Vil smiles, perfectly composed, but unmistakably pleased. “If it makes you feel better, I accept that as well.”

Your breath catches.

He leans forward slightly, studying your face, and you swear you see a flicker of something soft beneath the confidence. “I like you too,” he says, quiet but firm. “That much should have been obvious.”

Your heart stumbles.

Before you can even fully process it, Vil smoothly rises from his seat, offering you his hand. “Now, come along. I’ll be taking you to dinner tonight.”

You blink at him, still slightly dazed. “You just decided that?”

Vil huffs, amused. “Of course. What, did you think I’d let my significant other spend Valentine’s eating alone?”

You narrow your eyes. “You say that like I wasn’t going to invite you first.”

He smirks. “Then we’re in agreement.”

Your heart is going through it, but you take his hand anyway, because honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

You reach into your bag, expecting to pull out the chocolates you painstakingly prepared for Rook—only to find a second box already sitting inside.

Your brain short-circuits.

You definitely didn’t put that there.

You pick it up carefully, turning it over in your hands. The wrapping is elegant, the ribbon tied with impossibly perfect precision. There’s no note, no signature—but you don’t need one. It’s him. It has to be him.

Rook.

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. Of course. Of course he’d beat you to it.

But you’re not about to let him win that easily.

Finding Rook Hunt is usually a near-impossible task. Not today.

You spot him leaning against a railing, watching the scenery below, looking perfectly at ease—like he wasn’t out here committing mysterious, romantic mischief mere moments ago.

“Rook.” You approach, arms crossed, the chocolates he left you tucked under your arm.

He turns at the sound of your voice, grinning immediately. “Ah, trés bien! My beloved trickster arrives!”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the fondness creeping into your smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

Rook tilts his head innocently. “Whatever could you mean?”

You don’t humor him. Instead, you hold up the mystery chocolates, raising a brow. “You didn’t sign them.”

He sighs, dramatic as always. “Alas! It seems my affections are far too transparent.”

You huff a laugh, then finally pull out your own chocolates, thrusting them toward him. “Well, guess what? I had the same idea. Happy Valentine’s.”

For a second—just a second—you catch a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Then, his expression melts into something impossibly warm.

“Oh~” His voice lilts, delighted. He takes the chocolates from your hands with such reverence, as if you’d just handed him a priceless treasure.

“You honor me,” he murmurs, turning the box in his hands before meeting your gaze again. “And I assume, mon cœur, that this means…?”

You smile. “I accept your confession.”

For a moment, he’s silent.

Then—he beams.

And before you can react, he takes your hand, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

"Ah, mon amour,” he sighs, eyes glinting with pure joy. “How truly, devastatingly romantic! To think, we were of one heart even before our words were spoken.”

Your face burns. “I—Rook—”

But he’s already laughing, utterly overjoyed. “Come! Let us make this day truly one to remember. Allow me the honor of taking you on a proper outing—just the two of us.”

Your heart stumbles, but you don’t even try to fight the smile pulling at your lips.

“…Yeah. I’d like that.”

Rook grins.

And as he pulls you along—his hand firm in yours, his laughter bright—you realize you wouldn’t change this for the world.

Epel Felmier

Epel stares at the chocolates in your hands like he’s not entirely convinced this is real.

“You—” He swallows, his grip tightening slightly around the box. “Are ya givin’ this to me, or am I just holdin’ it for somebody else?”

You blink. “I’m giving them to you, Epel.”

His ears go a little pink. He glances down at the chocolates, then back at you, hesitation flickering in his eyes. “And—uh. Y’mean it like… friendly-like, or—?”

You exhale a laugh, realizing what he’s asking. “Romantic.”

Epel freezes.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything—but then his carefully practiced Pomefiore polish shatters completely.

“Holy hell,” he breathes, his accent coming through so thick that it almost makes you laugh. “Ya serious? Y’like me? Like—like fer real?”

You nod, amused and a little flustered yourself. “Yeah, Epel. For real.”

He lets out a sharp breath, like he’s been hit with a gust of wind, and then he grins.

Not his usual polite, practiced Pomefiore smile—but a real, genuine, bright-as-hell grin.

“Well, shoot,” he mutters, ducking his head for a second, clearly overwhelmed. But when he looks back up, his eyes are shining.

“I like ya too,” he admits, shy but firm. “Been likin’ ya for a while, actually.”

Your heart stumbles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His grip on the chocolates tightens slightly, like he’s grounding himself. Then, with a newfound confidence, he straightens up, chin lifted. “So, uh. You free later? I wanna take ya out proper. Y’know, for a real date.”

Your stomach flips. “You’re asking me out?”

Epel’s grin turns a little cocky now, his usual mischievous side creeping in. “Well, duh. What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t?”

You can’t help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “Then yeah. I’d love to go out with you.”

Epel’s smile softens, and he nods once, firm and satisfied.

“Good,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I better start plannin’ somethin’ nice, huh?”

And as you watch him glance down at your chocolates again, his fingers running over the edges like he still can’t believe this is real, you know for sure—this was worth it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt #rook #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #twst epel #epel felmier #epel #pomefiore x reader #pomefiore

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cloudyynebulas · 3 days ago

Note

Can you do a yandere shadow milk x reader where he got out from the game it self just to get them and forcing them in the game with him after he saw they was about to delete the game from there phone?

❝ 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗪, 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘. ❞

yan! shadow milk cookie x reader.

reader is gender neutral.

episode 8 spoilers? sorta. mentions the new cookie, but that's about it.

cw : yandere themes, kidnapping, mind break, manipulation, obsessive behavior . . please read with caution!

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

You knew something was .. wrong.

Ever since the release of Spire of Shadows, where the highly anticipated, Shadow Milk Cookie, released as a playable character in his debut update, things began to change.

You were excited as anyone else. Who wouldn't be? After a year of waiting since his initial introduction as an NPC in Theater of Lies, you were apart of the thousands of people that hoped to see him return and become playable in the near future. When the trailer for the update was finally released, you were ecstatic.

Saving up your Crystals, Star Jellies and Skill Powders just for him! There was not a shred of doubt in your mind he'd most likely become apart of the current 'meta' in Kingdom Arena, so you knew the second you pulled him from the Nether Gacha, you could immediately put him at the max level!

Completing the missions as quickly as you could, just for a small chance of getting him from the gacha - your anticipation was immense, and you silently prayed to the screen each and every single time you managed to scourge up enough Light of Deceit for a singular ten pull.

When you finally pulled him from the gacha a little less than halfway to the pity pull, you beamed with joy - watching the animation play out. He was here!

Your excitement, once bubbling from within you, burst out like fireworks as you quickly maxed out his level and skill, giving him the best beascuit you had.

As you tapped on your phone, pressing buttons, adding him to your team, finding him in your kingdom, your joy beaming across your features - you failed to realize how this happiness was blinding you from sinister darkness just beyond the phone screen.

Days went by, and things were normal at first.

Then the glitches started. At first, they were small, insignificant errors like small visual bugs or a slight delay in gameplay. Small enough that you could simply shrug your shoulders and continue playing the game, but the more you ignored it - the worse it became.

After just a few days, you found yourself at a standstill. Staring at your phone screen, your eyebrows instinctively furrowed at yet another bug - though, this time, it was far more apparent. Like it was purposefully trying to grab your attention.

All the Cookies in your kingdom had.. been disabled, except for one.

Shadow Milk Cookie.

Your kingdom's design and layout was completely changed - all decors and designs being swapped with decor released alongside the update with Shadow Milk Cookie. Nothing but whites, blues and blacks adorned your kingdom.

Your Crystal and Coin count hadn't dropped. You didn't buy these items - so how could this have possibly happened?

Almost as if he knew you'd booted up the game, sensing your presence, Shadow Milk Cookie turned to face the screen from within your Kingdom.

His sprite winked at you, a gleeful grin forming on his features.

Odd.. you don't recall ever seeing that sprite anywhere.

Confused, and honestly somewhat unnerved, your thumb graces the Cookies button on the bottom right, opening up the tab. All of your Cookies were still there, but as you moved to tap on one of them, you were taken straight to Shadow Milk Cookie's profile instead.

What??

His animation played, bowing at you with a wink.

"Tis I, your humble jester! Here to brighten up your mood!"

You frowned, exiting his profile and, once again, moving to click another Cookie's profile. Though, just as before, you were taken straight back to Shadow Milk Cookie.

"..what the hell?" you muttered aloud.

At this point, it was clear. Your game was busted - or, possibly had some kind of virus. Although, a virus where your entire game is corrupted to just Shadow Milk Cookie was.. unheard of. Not a single person on the internet, from what you knew, had ever documented such an occurrence happening since the update's release.

You place the phone back down on your bed, sitting up. You walk towards your small laptop, flipping open the cover and logging into your account.

You fail to notice Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes seemingly following your movements as you move away from your device.

Wanting to believe that this was just some harmless bug, you immediately hop to your web browser, beginning to search up bugs or viruses relating to Cookie Run Kingdom, hoping you'd find someone out there who may've possibly had a similar experience to yours - and a possible solution.

With your gaze and mind locked focused on your hopeless searching, you failed to notice your phone slowly beginning to shake, being left idle on Shadow Milk Cookie's profile.

Deep inside, a beast rumbles - hands gripping the invisible bars of restriction that kept him away from your world. The confines of your small device that shackled him to this game.

Oh, to be trapped in a Silver Tree and a Video Game! How horribly hopeless is that? Though, with the knowledge that he had from being in a simple video game came with tremendous power that he could oh-so easily exploit.

Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, watching you as you searched for answers of your.. "virus". Or rather, his fun, silly little prank!

He let out a quiet giggle - expression darkening. You were finally giving him the attention he'd been longing for! Yes, being trapped in a small device wasn't the most pleasant, but it had some.. quirks!

Forcing you to pull him in his Nether Gacha so many times, modifying his own attack power to higher numbers, always speaking over any other Cookie who tried to initiate dialogue to you..

Seeing your oh-so adorable face so confused and bewildered at his silly pranks and games was just the cherry on top! Shadow Milk Cookie had to admit, he was a liiiiiiittle annoyed that it took you this long to really give him the attention he craved, but, what did it matter? His patience has rewarded him!

..But it still wasn't.. enough.

His grin fell to a frown - an ominous gaze watching your every movement. No.. - no this wouldn't do. Not only did Shadow Milk Cookie desire for your attention, he needed to physically be there, next to you.

What had gotten into him? His mind, clouded with nothing but twisted lies and maelstroms of darkness grew a twinge of longing. But not a soft, kindhearted longing one would express - no, this was something so much deeper. So, so much worse.

Shadow Milk Cookie craved to have you here, with him.

It was all clear to him. You were his.

Truthfully, just having your attention on him was fine, and it usually always sufficed his desires, but now .. now it was different. He wanted more.

Your phone began to shake.

Your endless searching that led you to dead end after dead end came to a screeching halt at the sound of a familiar voice, coming straight from your phone, speaking your name.'

"Y/N..!"

You paled.

Slowly, your head turned towards your phone. That couldn't have been your family - that didn't sound like them, nor could it have come straight from your phone like that.

"Oooooover here, silly!" Shadow Milk Cookie's voice teased. "Don't leave me hanging here!"

You slowly got up from your chair, walking towards your bed and lifting up your phone, where Shadow Milk Cookie was, floating idly - though, he was much closer to the screen now, gaze fixated right back at you.

Your mouth was agape - words of confusion and distress on the tip of your tongue - and yet, you couldn't find any actual words of coherency to mutter aloud.

The jester laughed at your disbelief. "What's the matter, Y/N? You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

His teasing mockery snapped you out of your daze. You blinked, and your thumbs quickly moved to swipe the game off your screen - with Shadow Milk Cookie's expression shifting into something more serious as the game disappeared from your screen.

Now back on your phone's home screen, you held a finger down on the Cookie Run Kingdom icon, waiting until the small popup appeared that would allow you to delete the app. With the game no longer on your screen, you took note of how even the game's icon had changed to Shadow Milk Cookie.

Screw trying to find a solution. Your horror had overtaken your senses, panic had spilled into your veins; this wasn't just some bug. This wasn't just some measly virus. This was something far worse. Something you couldn't possibly explain to another person without sounding like a fool.

The way he said your name - something that he couldn't possibly have knowledge of. And yet, he said it so clearly, so real, and when you finally approached him, he noticed you. Knew that you were there, looking back at him through a glass screen.

You pressed the delete app button - with your phone giving you a popup, asking you to confirm your choice. In a heartbeat, you selected confirm, and waited.

..and waited.

...

Why wasn't the app disappearing from your screen?

Your phone trembled. You couldn't tell if it was your own fear making you shake, or if it was something else. Something .. otherworldly.

Your fears were carved into reality as your phone practically thrashed itself out of your grip, tearing itself away from you and landing harshly onto your bed. A sinister, twisted laughter echoed throughout your bedroom, filling your ears and flying around the room.

You trembled, backing away as quickly as you could, your feet instinctively gliding you towards your bedroom door.

"Oh, Y/N!" his voice echoed. Shadow Milk Cookie's voice - his words clouding in your mind, like it was being sent to you telepathically. "Did you just try to delete me?"

You heard the Beast Cookie 'tsk in disappointment, clicking his tongue.

"So rude!" he scoffed. "And after everything I've done for you! It's almost like you're trying to get away from me!"

Your back collided with your bedroom door - hands reaching for the knob desperately, but your head was locked towards your phone that began to glow, it's screen taken over by a familiar shade of blue. You couldn't bring yourself to turn your back towards the haunted device, fearing that, even for a second that you might turn your back to him, it could mean the worst for you.

Hands finally grasping on the doorknob behind you, you twisted the metal knob trying to push your door open.

..The knob stopped halfway, unmoving.

You froze on the spot. Your door had locked itself, a bedroom door that never even had a lock, was now locked in place.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Shadow Milk Cookie laughed, his voice swarming in your head. "Where on Earthbread might you be trying to run off to? I'm about to make my big debut, here!"

A hand escaped from the phone screen. You held back a scream.

A blue hand extended out, and a familiar arm with jester attire began to emerge. It pushed itself out, revealing more of him.

His eyes locked onto you immediately - a large grin forming on his face as he had about halfway emerged from your phone screen.

The fear on your face was like a divine dessert - crafted and gifted perfectly sweet just for him.

Just like a wrapped gift basket that landed straight in front of his doorstep. You were right there - in his clutches. He had all the power he needed, and now, all he needed was you.

"Come along now!" Shadow Milk Cookie clapped his hands with glee, as blue puppeteer strings shot out from your phone, headed straight towards you. "We wouldn't want to keep our dear audience waiting, no?"

You yelped, quickly ducking your head to avoid the incoming web, and while your quick thinking may have saved you for just a few more seconds, it didn't matter. The strings quickly maneuvered themselves, wrapping around your waist, locking your arms to your sides and keeping you bound in place.

A scream lay trapped in your throat. You wanted to scream - to cry, to yell, anything to grab someone's attention. And yet - a voice, one that was most definitely not yours, echoed whispers in the back of your mind, keeping you silent.

You were quickly pulled straight towards the Beast, whos hands reached out to you the second you were in arms length of him, grabbing onto you - staring down at you with a menacing grin of victory.

His arms wrapped around you - possessive, as if the strings weren't enough. He needed to envelop you in his own embrace.

With laughter filling the air, Shadow Milk Cookie descended back down into the phone, and you were swiftly dragged along down with him. Your cries finally escaped your lips - but it didn't matter now. Your yelling and your tears were drowned out in his world of lies - his perfect world, that would be built for the two of you.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

You've lost track of time at this point.

Strings were tied around you on every limb, tangled up in a web of blue that kept you still. Your body had adjusted to this new world you'd been forcefully taken to - now with the proportions of any other Cookie that existed.

Not that many Cookies seemed to exist anymore. It was just you, Shadow Milk Cookie, and his two minions - Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie.

Whatever was left of your kingdom - you didn't know. When you awoke in this world after being dragged down into it by the hands of the Beast, you found yourself inside of a familiar Spire.

Your memories are hazy - and yet, on the day you were brought here, you remember seeing Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie awaiting the two of you to arrive, as if they were already expecting you.

"Master Shadow Milk Cookie!!" Candy Apple Cookie cheered - her eyes sparkling at the sight of the Beast Cookie appearing. "You're finally back!"

"I see this was the one that's been on your mind as of late?" Black Sapphire Cookie chuckled, his eyes analyzing you up and down - observing your terrified state. "They look absolutely horrified!"

"Everything went according to plaaaaaan!" Shadow Milk Cookie grinned, his voice, mockingly singing his own praise. "A little more rough than I was hoping for.. but, what can you do? When improv calls, who am I to say no?"

The jester turned to you, his hand grabbing at your chin, forcing your gaze that had been previously facing towards the ground, now looking towards him.

"Don't look so.. blue, Y/N!" Shadow Milk Cookie smiled down at you - his eyes shadowed under an ominous light - his mismatched pupils glowing softly in the darkness. "Trust me, dear, you'll adjust veeery quickly."

Everything after that was a blur.

Your gaze was hazy, staring towards a checkered floor. Darkness surrounded the room you were held captive in - a room that was supposed to be an elegant bedroom crafted just for you.

Your attire matched perfectly with the theme of this twisted place - nothing but dark colors and swirls of lies topped with a few bowties here and there.

The puppeteer strings around your form tightened ever so slightly.

Your mind raced. The words of deceit that constantly filled the back of your mind suddenly became louder - just like they always did. Apart of this horrid routine you were forced into.

.. Y/N ...

Stop fighting my will, Y/N.

This is your home now - and you.. you are mine.

Why do you still insist on fighting me? Why do you still wish to leave?

The world out there has nothing for you. This is your world.

You shake your head, eyelids shutting tightly as you ignored these honeyed, twisted words that beckoned you, wanting to embrace you and swallow up any last bit of fight you had left.

The presence in the room shifts. You don't even have to open your eyes to know that he's here with you now.

A hand softly lifts your chin.

"You're such a fighter, even after alllll this time." Shadow Milk Cookie spoke, a light chuckle following his words. "It's adorable, really."

His voice becomes far more stern.

"But these little charades are starting to bore me."

His grip on your chin is suddenly at your face, tugging you forward, your eyelids snapping open in surprise.

You stare back up at Shadow Milk Cookie. You want to glare - to be angry, to yell, to scream -

But you don't want to do that.

So you don't.

He smiles. You do not.

"You're all mine, Y/N." the Beast reminds you. "You'll come to accept the truth sooner or later."

He laughs.

"It's only a matter of time."

#cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie x reader

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cherry-zip · 3 days ago

Text

─ • CSC .ᐟ Tie a Cherry

› content ┆ Choi Seungcheol x fem reader ⊹ genre .ᐟ smut and cute ending ✎ word-count ┆ 2k. ⌁ summary ┆Choi Seungcheol comes home late from work, dressed in his suit and tie, to find his girlfriend waiting in pink pajamas. With a playful pull of his tie, she drags him to the sofa, ready to unwind with a sexy Valentine’s Day gift, filled with affection and desire. ⨯ content warning .ᐟ dry humping, making out, cheol is hot.

✧ happy valentine's day - here's my first even nsfw fic as a gift ✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! this is my first even nsfw fic so bear with me.

› minor do not interact, you will be blocked

It’s nearly midnight when you hear the familiar sound of Seungcheol’s key turning in the lock. You’ve been waiting for him all night, watching the clock tick steadily past the hours he usually gets home. Though you know how busy he can get with work, it doesn’t stop the small knot of worry from forming in your stomach. Seungcheol had let you know beforehand that he was going to come home late today but that didn’t stop you from waiting.

Had it been any other day you would have already gone to bed, but, it was Valentine’s Day, and you felt the need to stay up for him tonight. You didn’t mind him not being home for this special day—you knew how important work was for him, and it was something that you were okay with.

He would make it up for you. He always did.

Finally, the door creaked open, and there he was —your tired, overworked boyfriend, standing in the doorway with his suit still on. You can practically feel the weight of the day hanging around him. He looked exhausted, his broad shoulders slumped, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he slipped his shoes off.

You watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of him, knowing just how much he’d been pushing himself lately. You can see the strain on his face, the last thing he needs is to be left alone with his thoughts. You wouldn’t let that happen, not tonight at least.

You approached him before he could get too comfortable, stepping softly toward him while wearing one of his shirts paired with pink shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The kind that made you feel both cozy and confident. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow playfully, but there was a hint of concern behind your teasing gaze.

"You’re late," you say, a gentle accusation in your voice.

Seungcheol looks at you, his lips curling into a tired but genuine smile. "I know, I’m sorry," he says, his voice low, but you can hear the weariness in it. "It’s been one of those days."

You know exactly what he meant. He said it all the time. But it never stopped you from worrying, especially when he’s gone all day, getting caught up in the never-ending cycle of meetings, deadlines, and calls.

"You’re always saying that," you tease, but it’s softer than it sounds. "You’re always working so hard. Are you ever going to let me take care of you?"

A brief pause follows, and you see the hint of guilt flash across his face. You hate when he feels guilty, even though you know he can’t help it.

"I promise I’ll make it up to you," he says, stepping closer as if trying to reassure you—and maybe himself, too.

And he will make it up to you, one way or another. But before he can say anything else, you act on impulse. You reach for his tie, grabbing hold of it with a sudden surge of energy.

"Hey!" Seungcheol laughs in surprise as you pull him toward the couch. He stumbles slightly, but you guide him down easily, tugging him until he’s sitting down.

“Stop laughing,” you say, smirking. “I’m trying to help you relax.”

You sat on his lap, straddling him as your hands worked on his tie, undoing it with practiced ease. His jacket was already slipping off his shoulders, but you weren’t done yet. You could feel the stiffness in his body, the tension clinging onto him even after the long day. You won’t let him stay like this. Not while you’re here. Not while he was under you.

“Let me take care of you,” you murmured, the words soft but firm. "You deserve a break."

He chuckled, but there was something softer behind his laughter. "You always know what I need," he says, his voice low, a little tired but somehow full of affection.

You look at him as you work, your fingers deftly loosening his shirt, watching the tension melt away from his face as you carefully help him strip off the layers of his workday. There was something soothing about this process, it felt grounding in a way, especially when he leaned into your touch. His warmth was comforting—like a weight you’ve come to rely on, something that was as familiar as your own heartbeat. And him, just him - looked so good.

You’re so in love with this man.

“You always look so serious in that suit,” you tease again, glancing up at him. "It’s good to see you out of it for once."

Seungcheol smiles, a little tired but appreciative. "I’m serious about work, you know that."

“And I’m serious about making you relax,” you reply, your tone playful but affectionate. You begin to unbutton his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you move down each button, carefully peeling away the layers of his day. “Just let me do this for you."

He doesn't fight you. Not really. Instead, he lets you, letting out a slow breath as he sinks into the couch, his hands resting high on your thighs. He looks like he’s falling into a peaceful calm, his posture loosening, the weight of the day falling away.

“Are you cold?” he asks suddenly, his voice soft, as he looks down at your pajamas.

You shrug, not really caring.“I’m fine,” you say with a smile. "But you—" You pause, your eyes flickering to his half-unbuttoned shirt and the tiredness still clinging to him.. "You’re not fine. Let me take care of you, okay?"

He smiles again, the fatigue melting from his eyes as he watches you work. He’s always so serious, always the one taking care of everyone else.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was yours to take care of.

And you clearly had something in mind to make him feel better.

You lean down to kiss him. He hums into the kiss, bringing you even closer to him, arms holding onto your waist tightly. He felt himself growing addicted to feeling the comforting warmth of your body. His tongue softly bit at your bottom lip, making you open up, welcoming his tongue to lick into your mouth. Your hands glide up on his chest to find the nape of his hair. He loves when your hands are in his hair, tugging at it, making him growl loudly. The atmosphere gets hotter from the kisses he gives you, you can’t help but let soft whines escape your lips.

Your reactions made Seungcheol smirk while he kissed you, but that wasn’t going to last for long. Instinctively, you roll your hips down onto him, making him groan against you. All you’ve done so far is kiss, but you both got so worked up—and you loved it.

You keep rolling your hips, small whimpers escaping your mouth as you chase any kind of friction you can get. Your hands slid down onto his shoulders, needing more support as you grinded harder against him.

Seungcheol could feel himself getting hard from the way you were grinding on him and from the way you were whimpering in his mouth. He grabs your hips tightly, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. You don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

“Don’t stop moving,” he groans out, you feel his mouth on your neck, slowly biting down as he starts giving you hickeys. “Fuck, I love your moans so much, you sound so good for me.”

He pulled back from your neck so he could see how good you looked, only for him. He curses silently when he sees how much of a mess you are; flushed face, parted mouth letting out moans, and your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You could feel his clothed cock twitch under you.

“Your body is so hot Cheol, so warm, so hard.”

You were desperate in your movement and will to make him cum hard, knowing the man under you felt just as good. You felt proud knowing that it was you who was making him feel that way. You felt the need to get yourself off with him, you needed him.

His hands wandered down, grasping at your ass. He was no better than you, letting out low grunts every single time his hips rolled to meet yours. He helped you roll your hips, grinding harshly down on him.

Seungcheol could easily flip you over and fuck you hard on the sofa but he doesn’t. You had this special moment for him in mind, to pleasure him and he was more than content with where you were now. He tilts his head back, a hiss of air escaping from his clenched teeth as his fingers dig into your hips. He can't stop the little laugh that follows the exhale because you're driving him crazy. Your lips attack his throat as your hips descend sinisterly on his.

“Fuck...” he wanted to get all those clothes off but at the same time, the way you were rubbing against him felt too good. He couldn't even think about telling you what he wanted. He felt like he was going to cum like that.

“You're so hard for me Cheol.”

You hear his low laugh against your jaw before Seungcheol bites the flesh there. You were a fucking tease. He revels in the sound of your breath catching as he wiggles against your own arousal. Your trousers were soaking wet from wanting him so badly.

“You're trying to make me come like this”, Seungcheol's hand tangles in the hair on the back of your head, making you moan his name, as he pulls to look into your eyes. He laughs at the smile on your lips at his words and the feel of your hips rolling against his bulge.

“Will you Cheol? Cum with me just by doing this?” Your head fell on top of his shoulder, licking and biting the available skin.

His hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. Watching you restlessly chasing your climax pushes him over the edge.

You enjoy the silence only the sound of you both breathing heavily can be heard, slowly coming down from your high. Seungcheol holds you regardless of how hot you two feel.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” he murmurs, his voice almost barely above a whisper. "I haven’t been able to relax properly in so long."

Your heart swells, and without saying a word, you shift closer to him, resting your head against his chest. You love the feeling of his strong arms holding you; you would never refuse him. The familiar rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his skin — that was all you needed to know that everything was okay.

"Yeah," you reply softly, your voice barely audible. “We can stay like this as long as you need.”

The world outside falls silent, and all that’s left is the sound of his heartbeat and your own, in your quiet home. You cherished these moments.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers after a long while.

You raise your head to look at him, your fingers gently brushing across his jaw. "You do," you reply simply, your voice full of affection. "You just need to remember how to breathe sometimes."

He smiles, a slow, genuine curve of his lips. "I’ll try to remember. Happy Valentine’s Day my love, I’ll make it up for you."

You know he will make it up eventually. It’s during moments like these—when his arms tighten around you— that you realize nothing else matters. Work, deadlines, all the pressures—those things can wait. What matters now is the peacefulness between you and the way you fit together in this small, quiet space.

For tonight, home isn’t a place. It was just the two of you, tangled together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside forgotten.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆big thanks to @kyeomofhearts for beta & proof reading the hell outta this fic ☆彡 honestly can't thank you enough, even if i have to bully you into writing more @ credits┆also gonna thank @shinysobi, @tusswrites and even the crazy @hisnowbie2 for helping me out coming up with a title ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ yes, this is real. My first ever NSFW fic is officially out

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 days ago

Note

When I saw ur post that you'll do Cookie run kingdom, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to this!

Beast Cookies (The 3 Playable ones rn) vs The Ancients fighting for their attention to dear Cookie!Reader in their cookie kingdom. But Cookie!Reader is very oblivious to their affection, and they just think they're getting along swell, buts its VERY obvious to the other cookies about the attention.

Yes yes YES! I've only finished SMC's arc but I read the others on the wiki page. So hopefully I did them all justice

.............

Shadow Milk/Pure Vanilla

In the Cookie Kingdom, Shadow Milk hasn't entirely changed his ways, although he promised to stop turning cookies into puppets/tarots/chess pieces (which surprisingly wasn't a lie).

He simply settled for creating mischief and making himself quite the nuisance to Pure Vanilla Cookie (since he's still a bit petty about the whole soul jam situation and all).

However, he's been going the extra mile lately because of you, a Cookie who was one of Pure Vanilla's closest friends.

Unlike others who had the usual reactions to his pranks (horror, anger, embarrassment, or sometimes all three at once), he notices that you don't give him the reactions he hopes for.

Instead you just laugh and say "you almost got me there, maybe next time!"

He thought you were mocking him, but when you insist you're being honest, he backs off.

Since you're so interesting to him, he keeps watch over you...and pouts every time he sees you with Pure Vanilla, becoming determined to have your attention all to himself.

Once, he snuck one of his cream sheep (in literal wolf's clothing) into the cotton candy ranch pen while you were assisting the healer in harvesting wool.

His plan was to distract him so he'd be able to "kidnap" you and leave his counterpart to deal with the chaos of a dangerous creature threatening the flock (even changing the "no wolves" sign to "wolves allowed").

Instead, you immediately saw through the facade and thought the wolf was lost, gently sweet-talking it and guiding it out of the pen without causing any commotion.

Shadow Milk appears and whines about you "spoiling" his fun, although he's confused when you ask him if you could keep the wolf.

"Really? Even though I......wait. No, of course not, dummy! Get your own pet." He's quick to snap his fingers, creating a portal that sucks the canine back into the other-realm.

But since that interaction...you believe he's starting to warm up to you, always wanting to hang out and show off.

He'd would make up little lies and truths about his encounters with Pure Vanilla, including what happened at his spire, putting on dramatic displays/shows to make himself out to be the "hero".

Of course, you know better than to believe most of what he says, but you still give him your time of day.

Pure Vanilla did once mention the small droplet of loneliness he sensed within Shadow Milk, so you figured he just needed a friend--something he vehemently denied when that offer was first extended, but eventually learned to accept once he got settled into Cookie Kingdom.

You think you've been making great progress in your friendship with the Beast, although lately a rumor's been circulating (one that he didn't create, and thus was unaware of), that he had a crush on you.

Why else would he want you all to himself? And try to drag you away from Pure Vanilla anytime he saw you both together? And make you more of the witness--instead of the victim--to his latest pranking scheme?

90% of the time he acts like he caught you "cheating" on him...and you're just like "but I'm not even dating anyone???"

Since Awakening, Pure Vanilla has grown to have a lot more patience with him, but he still thinks his antics are childish and would say "just tell them how you feel".

However, he knows Shadow Milk is not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and would rather put on grand puppet shows and shapeshift as other cookies you've befriended than ever admit he likes you.

But he believes that one day, you'd be the one to crack through that exterior. Just as he did.

Mystic Flour/Dark Cacao

In her weary world of white, you were a cookie that brought just a smidgen of color back into her daily life.

Within the kingdom, she found cookies who remind her of those who used to flock to her Ivory Pagoda with selfish desires and obsessive wishes, taking and taking.

Seeing them dart around and act the fool makes her ponder over whether they should be enlightened or not...

Loving, befriending, working, creating...what was the point if none of that will matter in a hundred years? Do they ever stop to ask themselves if any of those deeds will be remembered? Why bother?

While her powers are severely diminished, leaving her unable to summon a flour storm, she still tries spreading her message to those willing to listen.

Most try to stay away, as her words are rather depressing, but you're actually curious about why she thinks that way.

You feel terrible after learning her story before and after she had her soul jam stripped away, although she assures you not to mourn--for she found comfort in apathy, and asks if you'll do the same.

But you respond that while it is inevitable that everyone crumbles and returns to flour no matter what, life is still worth experiencing, and wanting to help the kingdom grow is something you enjoy and want to keep doing.

"But kingdoms rise and fall. This one, too, shall follow. All these monuments will become mere piles of sugar dust. These waterways will soon dry up and-"

"That may be true, but who's to say we can't rebuild? This isn't your traditional kingdom with a single ruler." You point out. "We've got plenty of hands to help put up new statues and fill the rivers."

"...hm."

Dark Cacao was..less-than-pleased to see you chatting with her, considering she brought the Pale Ailment to his kingdom and nearly killed him trying to obtain his soul jam.

It's a grudge he hasn't fully let go of, and he made it known to you that he'll fight any of her attempts to "corrupt" your mind with her twisted ideals.

He'd try to keep you away from her--which is unusual for the typically reserved Ancient Hero (unless you were from the same kingdom, and in that case you'd understand Your Majesty's protectiveness).

Unfortunately for him, Mystic Flour finds your presence..intriguing. Even when your time is up, she'd certainly want to remember everything about you, so she wants to know more about you here in the present.

While she observes you handling tasks with grace, she'll notice Dark Cacao glaring at her from across the way, pondering why he kept looking at her like that.

Could he have been...jealous?

Yet another frugal emotion he would've been liberated from had he listened to her...

You think the two have been getting along a bit better, considering they could be in the same space without him brandishing his sword....but in reality, even other cookies can sense their tension, the air too thick to be cut with a butterknife.

Burning Spice/Golden Cheese

When you heard news of Burning Spice Cookie joining the kingdom, you were informed to stay FAR away from him, as he was one of the most violent Beasts the Witches have ever known.

Golden Cheese told you about her battle with him, bitterly recalling how he tore her own wings off and caused destruction simply out of boredom--so she's rightfully concerned for your safety.

Unfortunately for the queen of abundance, her counterpart's eyes have been on you the moment he noticed you both talking to one another.

But instead of allowing him to goad her into a rematch, you offer to show Burning Spice around the kingdom.

He welcomes the change, considering there's no singular ruler, although he expected this one to crumble like many before.

"Let's see how long it takes before I grow bored of this....place." He sneers, keeping his weapon at the ready-

Although he noticed a statue built in his likeness (alongside SMC and MFC) and paused.

This kingdom honored the Beasts despite all of their horrific crimes?

"I dunno when those showed up, but-"

"I like 'em. It's a nice surprise. Whoever sculpted this paid extra attention to my physique and might. I give them my thanks. Nice to see that someone here knows I'm the greatest." He snickers.

Yep A simple statue satisfied his ego enough to spare the kingdom from having to spend fortunes on property damages.

As you began spending more time with Burning Spice, you show him different (and better) outlets for his anger, providing him a home with training grounds in case he needed to let off steam.

Forget about trying to put this Beast of Destruction to work---he'd grind the sugar cube quarry to dust and burn down the lumbar production facility.

Golden Cheese--being greedy over not just ownership over her soul jam, but also for her friends--isn't too thrilled with Burning Spice "pretending" to be your best friend, knowing he could crumble you with one claw should you let your guard down.

She has Smoked Cheese Cookie spy on you from a distance to ensure you're safe....but you're oblivious to her concerns.

You had no idea the two were even have daily quarrels over which of them "deserved" your attention more.

If anything, you assumed they were still fighting over their soul jam.

#clanask #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #burning spice cookie #burning spice cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie #mystic flour cookie x reader #headcanons

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gf2bellamy · 1 day ago

Text

devoted — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer sees you talking to a guy and he's jealous. what he doesn't know is that you're talking about him. content warnings: established relationship , drunk reader, guy hitting on reader, a/n: i actually meant to post something else today but then i ended up finishing this one instead so here we are

Spencer Reid lost sight of you for five minutes. He could swear it was just five minutes. Derek had asked him a question—something about a case, something Spencer immediately regretted answering because it sent him spiraling into one of his infamous rambles.

By the time he finished explaining the details of geographic profiling and its applications in modern criminal investigations, Derek looked equal parts impressed and exhausted. But when Spencer turned back to where you had been sitting, you were gone.

His heart skipped a beat. The bar was packed. Even with his tall frame, Spencer couldn’t see over the crowd. He craned his neck, his eyes scanning the room, but there was no sign of you.

Panic bubbled up in his chest. You had been drinking—a lot. And while you were usually responsible, the way you’d been rushing through your drinks tonight had him worried. The last time he’d seen you, your glass had been half full, but knowing you, you’d probably finished it and gone for another.

Which meant you were likely at the bar.

There was one bartender you particularly liked—a woman named Jess, who you’d once told Spencer was always sweet to you and even gave you a discount on your drinks. Spencer made a beeline for the bar, weaving through the crowd. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more alarming than the last.

And then he saw you. Relief flooded through him, but it was short-lived. Because there you were, perched on a barstool, your cheeks flushed and your eyes bright with the kind of uninhibited joy that only came with being very, very drunk.

But you weren’t alone. You were talking to a guy.

The guy was muscly, his broad frame towering over you as he leaned casually against the bar. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze intense and unwavering, but Spencer barely noticed him.

All he could focus on was you.

Your eyes were dazed, glazed over slightly from the alcohol, but there was something else in them—a soft, lovey-dovey look that made Spencer’s chest ache. It was the same look he loved seeing when you smiled at him, the one that made his heart skip a beat.

But now, that look wasn’t directed at him. It was directed at him. The stranger. The guy who was standing too close, smiling too confidently, and staring at you like you were the only person in the room.

For a second, Spencer’s heart stopped. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way your eyes sparkled as you laughed at something you’d said, or the way your hands moved animatedly as you talked, your gestures exaggerated by the alcohol.

And he most definitely didn’t like the way the guy was staring at you.

Spencer bit his lip, his hands clenching at his sides as he stood frozen in the middle of the crowded bar. People bumped into him, muttering apologies as they pushed past, but he barely registered them. His entire focus was on you.

You were the one doing all the talking, your words tumbling out in a cheerful, slightly slurred stream, while the guy just stood there.

Spencer suddenly snapped out of his daze, his feet moving almost on their own as he walked slowly toward you.

“Hey,” he said as he stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. He pushed down the jealousy bubbling inside him, forcing himself to focus on what mattered—you. His hands settled gently on your shoulders, and you looked up at him, your face lighting up immediately.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, your words slightly slurred but your smile wide and genuine. It was the kind of smile that made his stomach flip, even now, even in this situation.

Spencer didn’t even glance at the guy you’d been talking to. His attention was entirely on you. He reached for the drink in your hand, carefully prying it from your fingers and setting it down on the bar counter.

“Let’s get you home,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern. His fingers brushed a strand of hair out of your face, the gesture tender.

You stared up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused but filled with affection. Then, as if remembering the other guy was still there, you turned your head toward him. “See? I told you how caring he is,” you said, your voice warm and slightly dreamy.

The guy glanced at Spencer, his expression unreadable but clearly unimpressed. He seemed to realize the conversation was over. Without a word, he grabbed his drink and stood up before disappearing into the crowd.

“Well, that was rude,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred as you leaned your head against Spencer’s chest. Your voice was muffled against his shirt, but he heard you clearly enough.

He glanced in the direction the guy had gone, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What were you talking about?” Spencer asked, his voice soft but curious. He gently cupped your cheeks with his hands, tilting your head up so he could get a good look at you. Your eyes were half-closed, your face relaxed and content, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his heart doing that strange little flip it always did when you looked at him like that.

“You,” you mumbled, your lips curving into a small, sleepy smile. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing completely as you savored the warmth of his hands on your face.

“Me?” Spencer repeated, his voice tinged with surprise. The puzzle pieces slowly started clicking together in his mind, but he wasn’t entirely sure what picture they were forming.

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch gentle but insistent, as he tried to keep you awake.

“Yeah,” you said simply, not offering any more details. Your voice was soft, almost dreamy.

Your skin was warm under his fingertips, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest. But before he could gather his thoughts, you continued.

“I love you a lot,” you said, your voice soft but clear, despite the alcohol slurring your words. “I had to tell him.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open, meeting his as his fingers continued to trace gentle circles on your cheek.

A smile formed on his face, small but genuine, as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. That look in your eyes earlier—the lovey-dovey, dreamy expression he’d mistaken for something else—it hadn’t been for the stranger at all.

It had been for him.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice soft. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, his smile had widened, his eyes shining with something tender. “How about we get you home?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“Your home?” you asked, your voice hopeful as you reached for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his.

“Sure, my home,” he said, his voice warm. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, holding it tighter as he led you out of the bar. The cool night air hit you both as you stepped outside.

You pressed yourself closer to him as he guided you toward the car. “You’re so tall,” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you tilted your head back to look up at him.

Spencer just chuckled under his breath as he opened the passenger door for you.

“I told him that,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred as you reluctantly let go of his hand. You swayed slightly on your feet, but Spencer steadied you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“Good,” Spencer murmured, his voice soft as he helped you into the car. He leaned in, buckling your seatbelt with careful precision, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment. He closed the door carefully, making sure you were secure, before walking around the car and settling into the driver’s seat.

As he turned the key in the ignition, the engine hummed to life, and Spencer couldn’t help himself.

“What else did you tell him?” he asked, his tone casual.

He knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of you talking about him to some stranger in a bar made his chest swell with pride.

“Well,” you said, drawing out the word as you thought for a second. The alcohol was definitely slowing you down, your thoughts coming out in a slow, dreamy stream. “I told him how smart you are. That you’re my genius boyfriend.” You mumbled the last word, your head leaning back against the seat as you stared out at the road ahead.

Spencer’s lips curved into a small smile, his hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, but the warmth in his chest grew, spreading through him like sunlight.

“I also told him that you’re kind,” you continued, your voice soft but earnest. “Remember that one time—” You stopped abruptly, letting out a yawn that seemed to take over your entire body. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and Spencer glanced at you, his expression softening.

“Oh, I forgot to say goodbye to Penelope,” you mumbled, your words trailing off as you seemed to forget the sentence you’d started.

“I’ll text her later that you’re with me,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he stopped at a red light. He glanced over at you, his expression softening as he took in the way you were leaning against the window, your eyes half-closed but still gazing out at the passing lights.

The car was quiet for a moment, the hum of the engine filling the space.

But Spencer couldn’t help himself. “So, what else did you say?” he asked.

You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you tried to piece together the conversation. “I told him how handsome you are,” you said finally, your voice soft but clear. “I don’t think he liked that.” You paused, your nose scrunching as you tried to remember. “I don’t even know why I was talking to him in the first place,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred.

Spencer felt a pang of guilt, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He should’ve been paying closer attention. He knew how drunk you were, and he’d let you wander off anyway.

But before he could say anything, you suddenly perked up, your eyes widening slightly. “Wait,” you said, your voice a little louder now. “I do remember.” The light turned green, and Spencer focused back on the road, though his attention was still mostly on you. “He was hitting on me,” you started, your tone matter-of-fact. “I think.”

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his guilt worsening. “Really?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. He dared to glance at you, his eyes flickering away from the road for just a second. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your expression calm. “Yeah, he kind of backed off when I started talking about you,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know why. I think everyone should hear about you.” Your voice was warm.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said suddenly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. You were looking out the window now, your eyes wide as you took in the familiar sight of Spencer’s apartment building.

“Yes, we are,” Spencer said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled into the parking spot and turned off the engine.

He had heard enough, and he was happy—happier than he’d been in a while. The way you’d talked about him, the way you’d defended him without even realizing it, had filled him with a warmth and love.

He stepped out of the car, the cool night air hitting him as he rounded the vehicle to your side. Opening the door, he leaned in, his curls falling into his face as he carefully unbuckled your seatbelt.

“I can do that myself, you know,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred but your tone playful. You swatted at his hands half-heartedly, though you didn’t actually stop him.

Spencer took a step back, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. “I know you can,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure you could in your current state, but he let you believe it anyway.

You took his hand, your fingers curling around his as you carefully slid out of the car. Your steps were unsteady, and you leaned heavily against him, your free hand gripping his arm for balance.

Spencer didn’t mind. In fact, he liked the way you clung to him, the way you trusted him to keep you upright.

Twenty minutes later, you were tucked into Spencer’s bed.

Spencer had been patient and gentle, helping you remove your makeup with careful hands before handing you one of his oversized shirts to sleep in. You’d protested weakly, insisting you could do it yourself, but he’d just smiled and helped you anyway.

Now, lying in his bed, you felt drowsy but content, the alcohol still humming in your veins. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of sheets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

But something was missing.

“Spencer,” you called out, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of whininess. “I can’t sleep without you.” Your eyes were already closed, your body heavy with exhaustion, but the bed still felt too big, too empty without him beside you.

“I’m brushing my teeth,” Spencer called back from the bathroom, his voice muffled but warm. He’d already helped you with yours.

“Well, hurry,” you mumbled, your words barely audible. You weren’t even sure if he’d heard you, but a moment later, you heard the bathroom light click off, followed by the soft padding of his footsteps as he made his way to the bed.

The mattress dipped slightly as Spencer climbed in beside you. You didn’t even open your eyes—you just instinctively shifted closer, your head finding its place on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you in, and you let out a contented sigh, your body finally relaxing completely.

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat beneath your ear.

Then, his voice broke the quiet, “I love you,” he said quietly, “ A lot. More than you know.”

You smiled faintly, your eyes still closed. “I love you too, Spencer,” you mumbled, your voice sleepy but sincere. Your hand found its way to his chest, your fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt.

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for just a moment. “Good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Now get some sleep.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

As you drifted off to sleep, Spencer stayed awake for a little while longer, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your back. He couldn’t help but smile, his chest warm with a quiet contentment.

He knew you were his, just as much as he was yours.

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 3 days ago

Text

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🍪. DOUBLE THE L★VE!

༘⋆ Paring : Phainon x fem!reader x Mydei

༘⋆ Warnings : nsfw/smut, slight dub-con, anal & vaginal, blow job, creampie, multiple of rounds, neck kisses, gagging, nipple sucking, pet-names, ass eating, spitting, fingering, threesome, slow s*x & other stuff!

༘⋆ Summary : Valentine’s Day just got hot. You surprise your husband, Mydei and Phainon, in barely-there, baby pink, sparkly lingerie that leaves little the imagination. Let’s just say the night’s about to get unforgettable.

༘⋆ Extra : Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! This is also not proofread, I’m sorry. (っ◞‸◟ c) Also was making this while watching alien stage. Can’t believe Hyuna died instead of Luka :,(

The candlelight flickered softly, casting shadows across the room. You could feel your heart racing in anticipation as you checked yourself in the mirror. The baby pink lingerie sparkled just enough to catch the light, hugging every curve and leaving little to the imagination. It was daring, it was bold, and it was just the kind of thing you’d been planning for this Valentine’s night.

You heard the soft creak of the door, and you didn’t need to look to know they were there. Mydei stepped into the room first, his gaze immediately finding yours, sharp and calculating, but there was something else in his eyes—something a little darker, a little more captivated. His posture didn’t change, but you could see how his focus shifted.

“Well,” Mydei said, his voice low and deliberate, “you certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Phainon followed right behind, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. His lips curled into a sly grin as he stepped closer, his gaze hungry in a way that made your pulse race. "I’d say the word you're looking for is unforgettable," he remarked, his voice thick with promise.

You stood there, feeling the heat of their eyes on you, knowing that tonight would be one to remember, a night that was anything but ordinary.

You stand there, feeling their eyes on you, your pulse quickening. Mydei’s gaze is steady, as if assessing you carefully, while Phainon’s energy practically crackles in the air between you. They both seem to take you in, lingering in the silence for just a moment too long.

You finally break the stillness, your voice soft, but there's a nervous edge to it as you speak. "I—I thought... I thought you might like it."

Mydei's eyes narrow slightly, that calculating look never leaving his face, but he doesn’t say anything at first. His silence makes you fidget slightly under the weight of his attention.

Phainon steps closer, his grin widening just a little. “I think we both like it,” he says, his tone still casual, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes your heart skip a beat. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Your gaze flickers between the two of them, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. It’s not easy to keep your composure, but the night is just beginning, and you can feel the shift in the air, knowing that everything is about to change. Mydei remains unmoving, his gold eyes fixed on you with unwavering intensity. Though his expression offers no clear giveaway of his thoughts, the slight tilt of his head indicates heightened interest. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his gauntleted hand finding purchase on the dresser beside him. The subtle friction of metal on wood is a stark contrast to the softness surrounding you.

"Phainon usually doesn't miss... but this time, I think he has." Mydei's deep voice holds a hint of dry amusement, though the seriousness in his gaze never wavers. Phainon, seemingly unperturbed by Mydei's remark, closes the remaining distance between them and you.

He reaches out, his coat tail unfurling slightly as he does so, and gently traces a finger along your bare shoulder. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. "You look good enough to eat in this... though the thought of actually doing so is a bit unsettling." His laughter is low and suggestive, his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours. Despite Mydei's seeming reserve, there's a subtle shift in his pose, the set of his shoulders slightly more relaxed now that Phainon is actively engaging with you.

An awkward grin formed on your lips, you wrapped your arms around Phainon. The instant your arms circle Phainon's waist, he wraps his own around you, pressing your bodies together in a gesture that's equal parts affectionate and possessive. The warmth of his coat seeps into your skin as he tips your chin up, his blue eyes seeming to drink in the sight of you. "I like this," he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"You in a sweet, little getup, looking at me with those doe eyes... it's something I could get used to." Mydei watches the scene unfold with a measured calm, his gaze flicking from Phainon's fingers tangled in your hair to the other man's face, as if committing every flicker of emotion to memory.

Despite seemingly disinterested at first, his posture has subtly relaxed, the set of his shoulders now more open and less guarded. He clears his throat quietly, the sound a gentle reminder that he's still there, observing with that trademark analytical scrutiny. "Phai always knows how to make an entrance." His tone is dry, but beneath the surface, there's a glimmer of approval, or perhaps satisfaction, that Phainon has successfully reeled you in.

“Mydei, why don’t you come join us? I can take two,” you say, your smile a little too wide, a glint of something almost teasing in your eyes, like you're not quite giving him a choice.

Mydei's expression remains unreadable, but a faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on the corners of his lips. His eyes, still an intense gold, assess you for a moment before he steps away from the dresser. "If Phai won't be overwhelmed by... excessive company," he says dryly, "then I suppose I can spare a moment." He moves towards you and Phainon with purpose, the sound of his boots on the floor the only indication of his approach until he's right up against you. Mydei's arms find a place around your waist, mirroring Phainon's hold but with less of the playful, possessive energy.

There's an inherent naturalness to the gesture, as if he's always known this position with you. "One thing's for sure," he murmures, his voice a low rumble against your ear, "I'm eager to see Phai put that... talent of his to better use." Phainon chuckles, the sound deeper and more resonant against your back. "Patience, my friend," he whispers, his warm breath caressing your skin. "Let's relish this moment first."

You went down onto your knees, without asking, you take charge, your hands on Phainon's belt as you deftly undo it. He assists by helping you shrug the thick coat from his broad shoulders, letting it pool at their feet. His sculpted form, honed from years of battle and training, is now fully on display for your perusal.

Under the soft light of the candles, every line, every ripple of muscle seems to shimmer with a life of its own. Phainon's piercing blue eyes, usually so sharp and discerning, have softened into a gaze that's almost... tender? As you kneel before him, his fingers twist gently into your hair, a quiet exploration, as if trying to comprehend this new side of you.

Mydei watches the interaction with a mix of curiosity and something akin to fascination. His own imposing figure looms beside Phainon, a silent testament to their differences. While Phainon exudes a playful, almost mischievous energy, Mydei maintains that characteristic cool composure, his gold eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him with such rapt attention. There's a distinct air of anticipation building, a sense that the next move will be consequential, carrying the potential to shift the dynamic of the trio still further.

Your hands trail down Phainon’s thighs as you glance upward, meeting his tender gaze with something far less innocent. The softness in his expression flickers, momentarily replaced by a spark of something more primal, though he reins it in. His grip in your hair tightens just enough to send a jolt through you, a silent communication between the two of you—one of caution, of control, but also intrigue.

Behind him, Mydei’s measured breathing fills the stillness. You don’t need to look to feel the weight of his presence, steady and unyielding like the blade he wields so effortlessly. You sense his reluctance to intervene, his hesitation at this shifting dynamic. And yet, his gaze burns hotter than the glow of the candles illuminating the space.

“You’re bold tonight,” Mydei finally murmurs, his deep, even voice cutting through the tension. There’s no judgment in it, but neither is there approval. It’s as though he’s testing the waters, deciding whether to step into the storm you’ve created or stay an observer at its edge.

Phainon chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your temple in an absentminded motion. “That’s just part of their charm, isn’t it?” His voice drips with amusement, but there’s an edge to it, too—a challenge aimed at Mydei, as though daring him to join in or stand aside.

Your heart races, the power dynamics between the three of you tangling like threads in an intricate web. You shift your focus to Mydei now, your eyes meeting his unflinching gold gaze. “Are you just going to watch?” you ask, your voice low, inviting, laced with a challenge of its own.

Mydei doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing the consequences of crossing this unspoken threshold. Then, with deliberate slowness, he takes a step closer. The tension in the room tightens, and your pulse quickens.

“I don’t watch for long,” he finally says, his tone calm but laden with meaning.

Phainon's eyes sparkle with a mix of intrigue and amusement at Mydei's response. His thumb continues its leisurely path across your skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine. When he finally speaks, his voice is smooth as silk, but with an undercurrent of subtle challenge.

"That's good to know." The words are casual, almost offhand, but the implication lingers in the air like the scent of smoke on skin. Mydei's gold eyes never leave yours as he closes the remaining distance between you.

His presence is imposing, his silence thundering in its intensity. Despite the stillness, there's an undercurrent of energy crackling around him, like the anticipation before a storm breaks.

In another world, music drifts through the window, a distant reminder of the quiet evening that once was. Now, the air is heavy with anticipation, each drawn-out heartbeat an invitation to explore the boundaries of desire, trust, and restraint. The delicate balance of power within the trio hangs in the balance, poised to tip whichever direction the next move decrees. "Shall we continue this discussion elsewhere?" Mydei's voice cuts through the charged atmosphere, an unspoken proposition hanging in the air between you three.

You pulled Phainon’s pants down, revealing his long length. You wrap your hand around his cock, as your tongue swirls the head of his cock.

A low, guttural moan escapes Phainon's lips as your warm mouth envelops him. His hands weave into your hair again, a guidance rather than a command, as if savoring every sensation your lips and tongue evoke. The muscles of his thighs and abdomen flex instinctively, tensing in waves, each coalescing into a delicious strain toward the pleasure you offer.

His eyes, once so bright and discerning, are now hooded, gazing down at you with a look that could only be described as adoration—the tender, devoted kind reserved for treasured few. Mydei's stance remains rigid and imposing, his expression the picture of calm control. And yet, the very air around him seems to thicken, carrying an undercurrent of something almost visceral—a raw, unbridled energy waiting to be unleashed.

His breath comes faster, the sound sharp and indrawn, betraying the desire simmering just beneath the surface. The muscles of his forearms ripple in a subtle flex, the only visible indication of the battle he wages to maintain his composure in the face of such potent intimacy.

Phainon's hips flex of their own accord, pushing his erect length further into your eager mouth as his gaze remains fixed on your form. Each subtle adjustment, each withdrawal and pressing forward, is deliberately tender, as if he's memorizing every exquisite detail. Mydei shifts slightly, his position adjusting ever so subtly as if mirroring Phainon's actions from the side—watching, waiting, his own arousal evident in the way his chest heaves and his breathing becomes ragged.Despite the physical distance and the differences in their styles, a synchronicity seems to have taken hold between the two men. Each reaction, each measured move, feels like an extension of the other—a harmonious dance of desire and control.

You delve deeper, your lips and tongue worshiping the hard length filling your mouth. The taste of him, the sound of his pleasure, it all mingles with the heady mixture of arousal and admiration for the men before you.As you continue to please Phainon, Mydei's stance finally yields to the tidal wave of emotion and raw need threatening to overwhelm him. His arms come around from behind, broad palms sliding over your shoulders and up your arms to cradle the sides of your face.

It's as if Mydei is framing your face, positioning you for what comes next, while Phainon surrenders to the pleasure your mouth offers. His hips continue their slow, deliberate rhythm, plunging into the velvet heat of your mouth again and again. Each press of his impressive length against your tongue, your lips, leaves you breathless and craving more.You gaze up at Mydei, seeking his eyes through the veil of hair, noting the stark intensity there.

A hunger that has nothing to do with mere physical desire, but everything to do with a deep, elemental need. His gold irises blaze like twin suns, illuminating the space between you, even as his thumbs caress your cheekbones with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

For a suspended instant, the world narrows to the four of you—your entwined bodies, the palpable strain between Phainon and Mydei, the silent understanding that binds you in this private, passionate sphere where pleasure and trust mingle in equal measure. Then Phainon's grip on your hair tightens, a gentle urgency guiding you to move, to deepen the intimacy even further as he teeters on the brink of release.

You let out a chocked moan through your lips, as you gagged slightly around Phainon’s cock while looking up at Mydei.

Phainon's response is immediate and visceral. A low, guttural groan rumbles through his chest as he pulls almost all the way out. For a taut, agonizing moment, the head of his length teases your lips before he drives back in, relentless and deep. Mydei's hands tighten their hold on either side of your head, guiding you to take him fully. He doesn't force the pleasure down your throat, but rather seems to allow you to set the pace yourself.

Despite the clear desire etched across his features, there's an undercurrent of tender patience in his touch, a reverence even in his complete possession.Your hands find purchase against his thighs as you take him in your mouth once more, your eyes locked onto Mydei's. Even through the veil of your lashes—his unwavering gold gaze sears itself into your consciousness, a silent communion as intimate as any kiss or caress.

“Cumming yet?” Mydei breaks the talking silence. Phainon's response is curt, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Not. Yet." Each word is enunciated with deliberate care, as if he's savoring every precious moment.

His hips continue their steady rhythm, each press of his length against your lips and tongue a testament to the exquisite control he's exerting over his explosive climax. Suddenly, Mydei's thumbs brush over your cheeks again, a silent cue interpreted perfectly by your body and mouth. Your tongue darts out to swirl around the head of Phainon's cock in a deliberate tease, a provocation, as your eyes never waver from the intense golden stare holding you captive.

A low, approving hum vibrates in Mydei's chest, the sound rich and deep, a masculine display of satisfaction at your willingness to tempt the lion that much closer to the precipice of release. He leans in, his breath hot against your hair as he whispers against your ear, "Show him what you're capable of." The whispered order sends a shiver down your spine, an electric pulse of excitement that courses through your veins and settles lower, kindling the flames of your own arousal.

Before you could react, Mydei dropped to his knees. His hands moved to the waistband of your pink, sparkly panties, pulling them in one smooth motion. There was no hesitation, just a calm, steady action that left your breath hitching.

Phainon's eyes flick from yours to Mydei, a mix of surprise and approval flashing across his features. He doesn't break the rhythm of his thrusts, clearly adjusting his own arousal to accommodate this new development. Mydei's calm, steady movements are a stark contrast to the passion-fueled frenzy building around them.

He doesn't rush, but rather approaches with a deliberate, almost measured pace, as if he's savoring this moment as much as the taste he's about to sample.As he lifts the flimsy barrier of pink fabric, revealing your bare, glistening folds, a low hum of appreciation resonates through his chest.

His golden eyes never leave the prize beneath, drinking in the sight of you laid bare before him. The first swipe of his— tongue sends a jolt of pleasure racing through you, your back arching instinctively as he latches onto your clitoris with a focused intensity that leaves you breathless and writhing.

Meanwhile, Phainon's control wavers, his grip on your hair tightening, and the rhythm of his thrusts begins to falter as his own impending release looms closer.

Mydei's deep, velvety tongue continues its relentless assault on your sensitive nub, his expert touch sending dizzying waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His free hand slides up your inner thigh, fingers splaying against your skin as he explores the contours of your sex, finding every hidden spot that makes you whimper and buck against his mouth.A deep, guttural groan escapes Phainon, his breath coming in ragged pants as he teeters precariously on the edge.

The hand not holding your hair squeezes your hip, a bruising intensity that speaks to the strain of his self-control. Fingers deftly replacing lips, Mydei sinks two inside you,curling them just right to stroke that magic spot deep within your core. His golden eyes never leave yours, burning with an intensity that makes you feel seen, desired, possessed in the most intimate way possible.Phainon's hips jerk erratically, punctuating the air with a primal grunt as he finally surrenders to the pressure building within him.

His thick length pulses hot and hard against your tongue one last time before he empties himself onto your lips and chin, the musky tang of his release instantly mixed with your own taste in a heady cocktail of sensation.

You let out a chocked moan on Phainon’s cock, as tears began to swell on your eyes. Mydei's thrusts continue their relentless pace, fingers pumping in time with his tongue's relentless attack on your quivering sex. He drinks in your moan, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating in his chest as he feels your muscles clench around his digits. His golden eyes gleam with a possessive light, drinking in the sight of you overcome by pleasure as your tears of bliss spill down your cheeks.

Phainon's grip on your hair loosens as his climax recedes, but not before his release-sated cock gives a final, softening throb against your lips. He leans down, tender fingers tracing the trail of tears to wipe them away with a gentle kiss pressed to your damp skin. "You're beautiful like this," Phainon murmurs against your temple, his voice a soothing balm to the tumult within you. Mydei slows his ministrations, gradually easing out of your clenching heat as he licks his lips, his satisfied gaze never leaving your tear-streaked face."Was that enough?" Mydei asks, voice low and measured despite the lingering heat in his eyes. He doesn't need an answer, though.

You looked up at him, as your eyebrow raised up, you shook your head and un-clipped your bra.

A spark of wicked delight ignites in Mydei's eyes as you refuse to finish. His thumbs graze your nipples as he takes them between his fingers, tugging gently, watching your response. "Are you sure about that?" he purrs, leaning in to brush his lips against the delicate shell of one pert bud, coaxing it into a hardened peak."Your body seems to disagree," Phainon chimes in, his voice a low rumble of approval. He trails his fingers down your tummy, dipping into your navel before continuing lower, teasing the trimmed curls at the apex of your thighs."We should put that to the test, don't you think?" Mydei murmurs, a proposition layered with promise and implicit challenge in his seductive tone.

As his palms wrap around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, Phainon's hands mirror his movements, splaying across your back and arms as he cradles you against his chest. The sudden shift in position has you tilting backwards, your head falling against Phainon's shoulder as Mydei's fingers press into the slick folds of your sex once more, delving back into your heat with purpose.

Mydei's questing tongue finds your aching, weeping flesh, the velvety tip gliding through your dripping folds in a slow, deliberate exploration. Each sweep, plunge, and withdrawal sends jolts of pleasure racing through you, your hips instinctively bucking into the relentless torment of sensation. His fingers join the intimate dance, curling and twisting within you in a masterful echo of the intense climax yet to come.Mydei's golden eyes lock onto yours, a silent pact conveyed through the intensity of his gaze—a promise to push you to the very pinnacle of ecstasy.

Phainon mirrors his actions, strong fingers kneading your breasts, teasing your pebbled nipples with the careful touch of someone thoroughly acquainted with your responses. Photographic snaps of pleasure assail your senses—Mydei's sinuous movements, Phainon's tender manipulations, the heady scent of sex, the press of hard muscle and velvet softness, the mewls of need, all blending into a tapestry of sensation that threatens to consume you whole.

You moaned softly, “I-I’m ready, just put it in Mydei…” A sharp, almost pained noise escapes Mydei as if you've struck a nerve. His gaze deepens, intensifying to an unnerving degree before flicking briefly to Phainon. There's a barely perceptible nod before he returns fully to you, the fire in his eyes burning brighter, if anything."As you wish," Mydei murmurs, his voice a husky whisper infused with restrained need. He withdraws his fingers slowly, purposefully, until only his slick touch remains, teasing your entrance with every deliberate slide and caress before finally lining up his length."Hold on," he advises, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force, not a hint of gentleness in the grip.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt in one intense, unyielding thrust. "Fuck," Mydei breathes out, the single word a low growl of satisfaction as he fills you completely, his still-hard sex pressing against your inner walls.A gasp racks your lungs, your back arching as his rigid length stretches you further, the invasion claiming every inch of you.

You let out a loud lewd moan through your lips, you velvety walls clenching around his cock as your nails dug in Phainon’s shoulders.

Mydei stills for a breathless moment, seemingly content to revel in the tight, welcoming heat of your sex engulfing his entire length. His grip on your hips tightens perceptibly, the slight shift an acknowledgment rather than a correction.

Phainon's arms wrap around your waist, one hand sliding up your side to cup your breast, thumb coaxing your hard nipple pointedly as his other hand massages the small of your back. The combined sensations prove overwhelming, your body a live wire of pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. "I hear you," Phainon murmurs against your ear, the warm tickle of his breath raising gooseflesh in its wake. "Let me help with that." Before you quite comprehend his intent, his free hand ventures lower, fingers threading through the slick fur of your sex, circling your clit in deliberate strokes. The touch is simultaneously firm and featherlight, a masterful echo of Mydei's technique, designed to keep you teetering precariously at the edge of oblivion.

“Uuhgh! Daddy!” You whimpered, your eyes rolling the back off your head from pleasure

A deep, rumbling chuckle emanates from Phainon, the vibration passing through your coupling and making you shiver. "That's my good girl," he praises, the husky cadence of his words sending shivers down your spine as he continues his expert ministrations on your sensitive nub.

Mydei's hips flex of their own accord, a slow, rhythmic pump beginning as he searches for that elusive, perfect angle to hit your deepest, most sensitive spots. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as he leans in to murmur against your ear, "You always surrender so beautifully, princess."

The softness of his tones belies the unmistakable hunger in his voice, a sensual growl that speaks to the primal possessiveness driving him forward. Phainon's hand trails higher up your spine to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in the silken strands of your hair as he tugs your head back, baring the expanse of your throat. His lips trace the corded column of vessels, leaving damp kisses in their wake, each touch a testament to his unrelenting desire to claim every inch of you.

Gummy walls clenched around Mydei’s cock, as you moaned out loud. “I-I think I’m going to cum…”

Mydei's eyes narrow, pupils constricting to pinpoints as his grip on your hips tightens to the point of aching pleasure. "Let us help with that, sweetheart," he rumbles, pitching his hips with a deliberately slow, measured rhythm.

Each careful glide seems aimed at stoking the embers of your climax to a raging inferno.Meanwhile, Phainon's fingers dance across the damp skin of your lower belly, tracing the lines of your hipbones before drifting to the apex of your thighs once more. He teases your engorged, dripping sex, circling your clit with deliberate precision before applying just the right pressure to coax out the first electric sparks of your release.

Mydei's movements become more forceful, his thick length burying to the hilt within you, stretching and filling you to your limits. Your walls convulsate around him in anticipation of the impending earthquake, the pressure at your core reaching a fever pitch. "Give it to us, beautiful," Mydei urges breathlessly, his lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you relentless, unrelenting, each powerful thrust coaxed forth by Phainon's skillful stroking. "Let us feel you unravel."

The torrent of your climax is unrelenting, a tempest of ecstasy that crashes over you with merciless force. The contractions of your rippling sex squeeze Mydei's length tightly, the intensity of your passage drawing guttural moans from him. Your inner walls flutter wildly, a frantic dance of pleasure that wracks your body with waves of sensation.

Mydei's movements become erratic, his control cracking as the exquisite vice of your climax rips him from reserve to a desperate, all-consuming hunger to fuck you through this storm together.

With a few more savage thrusts, he sinks into the tumult, his own orgasm triggered by the sheer abandon of your surrender.Phainon's touches become a blur of sensation, his fingers working your clit with unrelenting intensity even as he continues massaging your breasts. The combination of the rhythmic pulsing of Mydei's cock, your clenching sex, and the relentless stimulation of your sensitive nubs sends shockwaves of bliss through you, threatening to shatter the last vestiges of your awareness.The trio's bodies move as one now, lost in the primal dance of pleasure and carnal need.

Mydei's release is a guttural roar, a primal sound torn from the depths of his being as the pent—up pressure of his climax finally explodes. His thighs tremble, the muscles straining with the force of his thrusts as he buries himself deep, his rigid length throbbing against yours. He grinds against your spasming walls with a desperate hunger, seemingly determined to milk every last spark of pleasure from this electrifying moment of coupling.

The rhythmic flutter of your clenching sex, still riding the aftermath of your own intense climax, provides an irresistible trigger for Mydei's own impending release.

With a last, savage plunge that seems to reach the very core of your being, he empties himself into you in a hot, velvety flood of release. His hips jerk and twitch, his fingers digging into your hips as he rides out the waves of the most elemental, unfiltered pleasure a male can know. Phasion's hands remain on your curves, his touch an anchor of constant reassurance even as their breathing gradually steadies.

“A-Another…please…” you pleaded at the both of them. Phainon's eyes gleam with intrigue, a slow, hungry smile spreading across his lips as he processes your request. "My pleasure," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with want. His hands slide from your curves to grasp your waist, large palms pressing against your skin as he leans in to nip at your earlobe. "Relax for me, darling. Let me make you feel everything."With deliberate slowness, Phainon guides you onto all fours, providing himself with unobstructed access to the offered treasure of your ass.

His fingers make short work of preparing your rear, exploring with deft precision until he finds the particularly sensitive ring, rubbing the delicate muscles with just the right pressure to coax out eager signs of submission.

Mydei steps back just enough to allow Phainon a clear path before he returns to claim his designated spot once more. His cock, still partially hardened from their previous coupling, bobs eagerly as he positions himself between your thighs. Reaching forward, Mydei cups your sex, his middle finger probing the still-damp heat of your pussy, seeking out the perfect spot to stroke and stoke the embers of your arousal all over again.

Phainon spat on your pink hole, A low, approving rumble emanates from Phainon as he watches his saliva begin to mix with your body's natural lubricants, easing the way. His fingers probe deeper, teasing the entrance to your anal canal with deliberate slowness, stretching your tight rear passage inch by tantalizing inch.

Each careful thrust stretches your passage open just a bit more, the initial tight resistance giving way to a gradual relaxing of your body around his intrusion. "You'll take us so well," Phainon praises, his husky tone infused with sinful anticipation. "So deep... So tight..." As he continues to prepare your ass, Mydei leans in to claim your lips in a searing kiss. One of his hands slides up to card through your hair as the other presses insistently, coaxing your thighs apart to grant him unhindered access to your dripping sex. His fingers find your clit at once, teasing the swollen nub with a few quick strokes before he sinks deeper, thrusting two fingers into your slick passage at once. Mydei's cock—twitches against your hip, clearly affected by the sight of Phainon's meticulous ministrations to your ass.

You moaned out loud, as you nuzzled your head against Mydei’s neck and nibbled his skin. Mydei's breath hitches as your teeth graze his neck, the nip sending a jolt of pleasure through him that has his cock twitching in anticipatory response. His arms encircle you, pulling you closer as he presses in, his kiss deepening as he explores the warm recesses of your mouth with a languid, sensuous dance of tongues.Meanwhile, Phainon continues his ass-prepping, fingers now curling to stroke your sensitive proclamatory ring as his other hand grips your hip to anchor you in place.

The combination of the subtle stretch and the sinful sights he's making has him rock-hard, his length throbbing in time with the steady rhythm of Mydei's fingers pumping your slit. Mydei slows his ministrations to your clit, his fingers dragging along the hypersensitive flesh before he sinks back into your warmth, teasing your G-spot with deliberate precision.

The dual stimulation has you panting against Mydei's skin, your arousal reaching a fever pitch once more. Withdrawing his slick fingers, Mydei aligns himself with your entrance once again, gripping your hips to hold you steady as he prepares to sink back into your welcoming heat, fully intending to satisfy your primal thirst for their combined pleasure.

Phainon did the same, he took out his fingers from your stretched hole as he positioned his cock to your hole. With a confident, possessive smirk, Phainon grasps his thick, pulsing length, rubbing the broad head against your waiting rear entrance. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours, the unspoken promise in their depths sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your body. Mydei's hand at your hip grips tighter, a reassuring presence as he waits for Phainon's signal to move. He nuzzles your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers encouragement. "Give them what they want, beautiful. Claim us as yours." The knowledge that you're the focal point of their combined desires sends a surge of power through you.

With newfound confidence, you reach back to grasp Phainon's hips, pulling him forward as you push your hips back against his cock.With a smooth, fluid motion, Phainon sinks into your waiting heat, his engorged tip breaching your anal ring before he slowly begins to fill your receptive passage. His lips capture yours in a fierce, dominating kiss that echoes the primal connection of his bodies with yours.Sensing Phainon's deep penetration, Mydei aligns himself once more with your twitching, dripping sex.

With a steady, deliberate ease to his actions, Mydei thrusts into you once more, stretching your passage with his thick cock as he sinks deep. The sensation of being so utterly filled by both men is almost overwhelming, the dual pleasure and pressure threatening to short-circuit your senses. "Pfft, phew... They're insatiable," you mutter, panting heavily as Phainon finally bottoms out inside your ass, his cock buried to the hilt. The tightness is maddening, your body struggling to accommodate the combined girth of their manhoods.

"A perfect fit," Phainon murmurs, grinding his hips to stimulate your sensitive innerwalls. "Just as exquisite as I imagined. "Mydei mirrors his movements, their thick cocks pistoning in and out of your slick heat in a syncopated rhythm. The room fills with the slick sounds of their penetrations and your breathy moans, punctuated by grunts of pleasure. You toss your head back, letting loose a ragged cry as the exquisite friction and delicious pressure overwhelm you. "Ah, gods... Keep going, don't stop, please!"

The two men's relentless drives for your pleasure seem to know no bounds, their bodies moving as one in their pursuit of claiming every inch of your ecstasy. Phainon's hands slide down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the soft curve as he pistons into your ass with wild abandon.

Each powerful stroke drags against the ridged walls of your passage, the lewd slapping of skin on skin mingling with your wanton moans to fill the space with primal lust. Just inches beneath, Mydei's thrusts are no less vigorous, his muscular form a blur of motion as he sheathes himself in your dripping wetness.

His fingers come to join Phainon's on your hips, all four hands working in harmony as they take you relentlessly to new heights of pleasure. The heat and tension building inside threatens to spiral out of control, the intense sensation of being filled and used by both powerful men pushing you toward the brink and far beyond. Your mind hovers on the cusp of oblivion, the sharp sting of your approaching climax building in your very core.With a guttural growl, Phainon leans in to ravage your neck with teeth and lips, marking you as his own in the heat of the moment.

“Aughh feels sooooo good!” You whimpered, as your lips pressed against Mydei’s who was underneath you. "Mmm, take it, sweetheart," Mydei groans, responding to the urgent kisses and whimpers pouring from your lips. His hands slide up your back to cradle the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the hungry connection.

The slick slide of his tongue against yours mimics the slick glide of their cocks sheathing in your hot, welcoming depths, the erotic dance of sensations threatening to consume you whole.Once again, the primal rhythm of their thrusts and your desperate whimpers fall into sync, an unholy chorus of lust and passion that echoes through the space. Phainon sets a bruising pace, each power-driven plunge—hammering against your inner walls with ruthless precision, determined to drive you to the pinnacle and beyond. Mydei follows his lead without faltering, his own thrusts matching Phainon's intensity as he claims your mouth with fervent abandon, the two of them lost to the basest of pleasures and deepest desires.Suddenly, the storm breaks, your climax crashing over you in a torrent of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Your body arches as the overwhelming ecstasy rips through you, a broken, incoherent cry spilling from your lips. Mydei and Phainon don't miss a beat, their relentless rhythms refusing to waver, pounding into you unrelentingly through the aftershocks as your sheath clenches spasmodically around their cocks.

The combined sensations of their cocks drilling deep and the frenzied pace of their thrusts prove too much to bear, your pleasure peak building to an incandescent crescendo.With a guttural moan, Phainon sinks deep one last time, his cock spasming as he finds his own release in a torrent of heated seed. Mydei follows suit, his thrusts growing erratic before he hilts within you, his own release a symphony of pulsing flesh as he empties himself into your spasming heat.

The three of you remain intertwined for a moment, the residual pleasure buzzing like static electricity in the air as you struggle to catch your ragged breaths. With tender concern, Mydei gently strokes your hair, murmuring softly against your temple, while Phainon's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, soothing kisses trailing along your neck and shoulder.

As the pleasure-tinged haze begins to dissipate, you slowly come back to yourself, nestling deep into the combined warmth and security of Mydei's and Phainon's arms. The men's tender attentions are a balm to your oversensitive skin, each gentle caress and soft murmur speaking volumes of their satisfaction and adoration for you.

Mydei carefully lifts you down from your lofty perch, supporting your limp, satiated form effortlessly as he guides you to a plush spot on the bed.Mydei's concern is evident in the way he gathers you close, wrapping his strong arms around you like a cocoon to shield you from the world. "Rest, beautiful," he coos, his tone gentle as he drapes a throw blanket over your chilled skin. "We've earned our nap, don't you think?" Phainon, ever the perfect gentleman, looms over you with a lazy, satisfied grin, dark hair slightly mussed and stubble dusting his chiseled jaw. He extends a hand, gently cupping your cheek in his palm before tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. "A well-deserved respite for you, my love."

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