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selfcarecap · 1 month ago

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Over Each Other [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: Logan and you are just friends – you have a boyfriend, after all. But sometimes when you and your boyfriend are arguing, Logan listens and jerks off to it. He knows you two will break up soon, and he’s just finding ways to patiently pass the time until you can be his. Until one night, you’ve fought your final argument with your boyfriend and are in need of some comfort that Logan is more than happy to provide.

warnings: smut 18+ like this is more sexual and less fluffy (or angsty) than the summary sounds tbh (m masturbation, oral sex f receiving, unprotected piv, creampie, Logan calls reader princess, good girl, bub, baby), kinda toxic i mean you read the summary but still a sweet fic, reader is vulnerable so Logan could be seen to be taking advantage of her so don’t read if you don’t like, excuse the dramatic title and a few lines (from Linkin Park’s Over Each Other) because this is also me working through some feelings lmao, this is obviously not at aaalllll a realistic depiction of healing from a break-up lol (although I sincerely believe it would work with Logan..), X-Mansion era

note: not the fic I was expecting to be my first fic in over a month but my heart needed this so here you go <3 i also only proofread once so lmk if there are any atrocious typos lmao | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons

word count: 3.9k oops wth

Logan knows he’s a bad man. He’s killed people, innocent people, committed countless crimes, done more evil things than he can ever remember. But now he knows he’s a bad man because of something entirely different.

Logan shamelessly jerks off to the sound of you and your boyfriend arguing.

He doesn’t even need to use his heightened hearing, that’s how loud you two are. Night after night after night he listens to you arguing, stroking his cock to the rhythm of your voice.

You always have the upper hand — he would never masturbate to your pain or to you being degraded. Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot and you’re not afraid to let him know. Logan is sure he’s not the only one who knows that your relationship will end soon, and he’s fine to give you the time you need. Logan is a patient man these days; he can wait. But he’ll make the wait worth his while.

He gains pleasure from knowing that soon you two will break up, and you’ll be all his.

Logan sees the way you look at him, senses the way your heartbeat speeds up that little bit when he smiles at you, smells a spike in your pheromones when he’s around. And he’s no different when it comes to you.

The more you and your stupid boyfriend argue, the closer you get to breaking up, and the closer Logan gets to his release.

He’s listening to your moans of frustration this evening and imagines turning them into moans of pleasure, imagines licking your pussy until you’ve forgot all about your little boyfriend. Logan’s fist speeds up around his dick, hips moving up to fuck into his hand as he thinks of you and your gorgeous face.

Logan cums with your voice in his head, with the thought of you and your boyfriend finally breaking up, and shoots cum all over his own hand, down his forearm, and over his abs. He jerks off until he’s satisfied, lying in his bed a mess for a second – his hand coated in his cum, his happy trail sticky.

When Logan’s breath slows down, he realises your voice has stopped. You’re not arguing anymore – you must have gone to sleep. Then he hears your voice again, this time much closer.

“Logan?” A quiet knock at his door, “It’s me, you still awake?”

He pulls his sweatpants back in place and reaches for a tissue, only for his hand to land in the empty box. In a panic, Logan takes off the shirt that he’d pushed up over his abs, and uses it to clean himself of his release, using his freshly washed shirt like a rag.

“One second!” He calls out as he rubs the bunched up shirt over his happy trail to get it all off. Logan throws the dirty shirt into the corner of the room, and opens the door shirtless.

His heart drops when he sees the state you’re in, cheeks wet with tears and clinging to a teddy bear Logan once got you.

“Um… we just broke up. Can I come in? I know it’s late…”

Logan ushers you inside before the sentence has fully left your lips. Now he feels a twinge of guilt – he was too busy trying to get off to realise it was a serious argument this time. Maybe he jerks off more to the concept of you and that dumb boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) arguing and how hot you sound putting that guy in his place all confidently, than the actual fight.

As much as it pains him to see you hurt, he has to smile behind your back for a second when he closes the door. But a shiver runs up his spine when you let your guard down once you’re alone with Logan, all teary-eyed and small and sad.

Logan sits you down on his bed as you tell him the full story.

I tried to find my patience��

All we did was talk over each other…

It was all a waste of time…

There was nothing underneath…

I'm so tired of talking over each other…

Logan hugs you while you cling to him, your words barely audible with how you’re smothered against his naked shoulder. He gently rubs your back, and it only makes you hold onto him tighter.

“Shh, shh baby, I’m here for you. It’s gonna be okay.” The pet name just slips out. Logan barely realises what he’s said until you look up at him all doe-eyed, nodding your head frantically.

“I’m okay,” you say, “For now. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, do you want to stay here for the night?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course I don’t mind, bub. I like having you here. Even better if it means I can take care of you while you need someone,” Logan says, and watches a soft smile spread on your face.

You sit up to wipe your eyes, only to realise you have no tears left. It’s been an hour since you got here, and you’ve calmed down.

Logan held you, said all the right things, helped you see things clearly. You’re better off without that guy, and you know Logan will be here for you until you’re over him. More importantly, you’re sure he will be there for you beyond that too.

“Here you go,” Logan takes your teddy and gives him a special place on his nightstand, and lets you wrap your arms around him as you settle against his chest. He’s not sure what to do next, but it’s late and he assumes you have no energy to do anything other than sleep.

It surprises him when you speak up a few minutes later, though your voice is quiet.

“He couldn’t even make me cum…”

Logan looks at you and finds a pout on your lips but a glint in your eyes, the warm glow of his bedside lamp making you look like an angel.

He chuckles, “So you’re crying over a man that couldn’t even make his girl feel good?”

You nod your head and smile bashfully.

“When was the last time you were fucked well?”

You look away from Logan as you think, “Uh, I dunno.”

“Hhmm. You didn’t miss it in all that time you were together?”

You turn to your side to lean up on your elbow, more awake again, “Well, I did. But maybe now I can… find someone better.”

You’re looking up right at Logan through your pretty eyelashes, and it’s subtle but so seductive, but he knows you’re too shy to initiate something, especially now when you probably feel guilty for not mourning your relationship more. But Logan is proud of you for realising your worth and ending it. Your ex should be the only one sad right now, not you.

“Of course you will,” Logan tells you, “You’ll find someone who loves you more than that idiot ever could and someone who will fuck you as good as you deserve.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

“I know so, bub.”

You give him a smile and move to lie down on your belly, head resting on your folded up arms. Your scooting around moves the blanket, pulling it off of Logan’s lap, revealing the half-hard bulge under his sweatpants.

Logan pulls the blanket back in place, but he’s not sure if you saw.

“How will I know if I’m being fucked well? If I don’t have a reference…” you play with your hands, not looking at Logan.

“I could always show you,” Logan smiles, patiently waiting for you to gain the confidence to look back into his eyes, and you do.

“Only if you want to. But if I’m interpreting your signals right then..” you nod to his lap with a teasing smile.

“You saw…” Logan rolls his eyes at himself which earns him a sweet laugh from you, “Didn’t want you to think your pain makes me hard, or that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Do I look like I’m in pain right now?” you giggle, a huge smile on your face, cheeks already getting warm with arousal, “And if you wanted to take advantage I’m sure you wouldn’t have waited for me to bring it up.”

“You sure about this, bub? We have all the time in the world.”

“I want you now, Logan. Been waiting to get the courage to break up with him so I could finally have a chance at being with you.”

“Really?” Logan asks, but you’re busy letting your gaze drift down his body, fixed on his lap now. Logan moves closer, and he takes your face in his hands, chuckling “You still with me, bub?”

You don’t reply. Instead, you push your mouth against his, and it’s the most intense kiss Logan has ever experienced. It’s like Logan can feel himself pulling all the pain from you with his lips, eating your pain alive and swallowing it, never to be seen again.

He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that you’re smiling more than you have in weeks. He can feel a new energy radiating off your body. Something is healing in you.

You kiss until you’re both breathless, smiling and horny. Logan’s erection is pressing against your leg, and he can practically smell how wet you are.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Logan says, heart beating fast from how turned on he is.

You pause for a second, grinning and almost too needy to think, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“How about I show you?” Logan lies you on your back, slowly pushing your oversized sleep shirt over your hips, and kissing down your body, down to your knees and over your shins.

“Is this okay? Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, skin heating up where he touches you to gently pull your knees apart, “Never stop.”

Logan chuckles against your warm skin where he kisses you, from the side of your knee to your upper inner thigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I've needed you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It’s hard to talk, but you’re getting the words out somehow, “Could’ve been with you ages ago.”

“Didn’t want to intervene with anything. You needed your time to break up. And I know good things take time, and…” his words die in his throat when his lips move to your panties. They’re soaked with wetness, and Logan inhales you, something between a moan and a whimper leaving his mouth.

“God, baby…” he whispers, settling down between your legs and then lifting them up over his shoulders, “You have no idea how badly I need to eat your pussy right now. Can I?”

You nod, fighting the urge to rip your panties off yourself.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, Logan.. yes, yes.” It’s the only word you can think of right now, with the heat of his mouth so close to your clothed pussy. He smirks at your words and nuzzles his cheek between your legs, leaving your clit throbbing and the spot on your panties growing larger.

You clench around nothing when Logan trails the tip of his tongue up and down your pussy over your panties, your legs squeezing around his head, hands finding his hair.

“You gonna be a good girl for me and stop squirming? I wanna take my time with you, baby.”

You nod and close your eyes for a moment, unsure if you can stop. But then Logan slowly pulls your panties to the side and seems to forget about wanting to take his time himself.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby–” he interrupts his own words by burying his face between your legs, licking his way up from your pussy to the top of your clit and moaning as if it were the best meal he’s ever tasted.

You tighten your hand in his hair to pull him even closer and he obeys your silent command, burying his face in you more, his beard, lips and nose now wet with you. Logan licks into your pussy, tasting you like a man starved, one of his big hands coming up your body to place it over your tit.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbles more to himself, finger playing with your nipple as his tongue plays with your clit. It’s been so long since you experienced this type of pleasure that you’re close already.

“Logan…” it comes out as a whimper, and he smirks as he lifts his head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?”

“Might not last long..” you say, and it takes everything in you not to push his head down.

“That’s the point, baby,” he smiles, and goes back down. He brings his hands between your legs to spread your pussy lips so that he can get even closer. You feel vulnerable spread open for him like this, but it’s a comfortable vulnerability. Your heart feels content. You know you can trust him. He won’t hurt you.

You’re so wet that you’re almost embarrassed by how loud it sounds when Logan eats your pussy. A pleasure you’ve been missing in your life for a while rushes through your body when Logan begins to suck on your clit, and your back arches off the bed.

You cum with Logan’s name a whisper on your lips, and he doesn’t stop until you’re seeing stars and pushing his head away.

Logan sits up from between your legs with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking it clean right after.

“You okay?” He smiles, and you realise how hard you’re panting.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what that feels like,” you confess.

“What, cumming?”

You nod with a pout that Logan quickly kisses away, covering your body with his as he hovers over you.

“Trust me, bub, we’ll make you remember all of it. You up for more tonight?”

“Yes,” you reply embarrassingly fast. You’re not sure you could stop if you wanted to, your body pumped full with the happiness hormones you haven’t felt in all too long.

Logan holds himself up over you with one arm, pulling down his pants. You’d tease him about the wet spot of precum on them, but you’re far too horny to think of what to say.

“Good, because you taste so delicious, baby, you’re not getting rid of me between your legs any time soon,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you as you grin against him. You don’t want him to leave, ever.

His big hand finds your thigh, and he gently pushes a finger in, then two, kissing you and watching your face for any signs of discomfort, but all you’re doing is arching your back for him to push deeper.

“You want it, baby?”

You look down Logan’s body, eyes settling on his hard and wanting cock, the tip glistening with precum, “Mhmm,” you nod frantically, “I want it.”

“Been a while though…” you add hesitantly.

“It’s okay, princess. I’ll be gentle. We’ve got all the time in the world, okay?” He leans his forehead against yours and a smile spreads over your face again.

“Okay.” You lean up to kiss him, both of you getting lost in the way your tongues feel against each other for a few moments.

“Here,” Logan rubs a few messy circles over your pussy, his palm getting slick with your wetness. He wraps a hand around his dick, stroking himself a few times to coat himself in the feeling of you.

“I’m ready,” you tell Logan before he can ask.

“Good girl.”

Logan trails his thumb over your cheek and gives you a chaste kiss, and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he says, and all you can do is look back up at him lovingly.

“You want me to put it in?” he asks, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit a few times. Then, he suddenly pauses.

The warmth of him above you is gone, but he’s not far. He’s leaning over to his bedside table, turning your teddy bear away from you two.

“He doesn’t need to see this,” he says all seriously, and you giggle.

You help him take off your shirt, and you’re bare underneath, and as good as it feels to have Logan distracted by how good your boobs look for a bit, you need him somewhere else.

“Logan?” you ask, and he looks back up at you, a nipple still in his mouth.

“Yes?” he licks a broad stripe over your nipple as he says it, and it comes out muffled.

“Kind of need you somewhere else.”

“Oh, do you, princess?” Logan hovers over you again, leaning on one forearm as his other hand rests on your tit, and he’s smirking down at you, “Where would that be?”

You grin widely, biting your lip as you carefully take his hand off you, and bring it between your legs. You don’t even have to guide him all the way to your pussy before his hand is gone from yours and he’s cupping your wet, warm pussy.

“Here, baby?” he brings two fingers up to his mouth to suck your wetness off them, and you nod as if in a trance.

“Okay, bub, you sure?”

“Yesss, Logan,” you let out a pathetic groan of frustration, your chest vibrating with the sound.

He smirks, bringing his hand, still slick with his spit, to your cheeks and squishing them together, “You’re so adorable when you’re horny, you know that, princess?” You bat his hand away at his teasing, but your grin might be even bigger than his.

Logan finally lifts one of your legs and pushes it up against your chest, rubbing a few lazy circles on your clit before he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. He’s doing it to tease you, but you see him lose his own composure, expression turning into a frown of neediness.

You share another quick but sloppy kiss during which you take Logan’s cock and rub it against your pussy. He only pulls away from the kiss to finally put the tip inside you.

“God,” he groans at just the first few inches, and you both calm yourself down to make sure this isn’t over immediately.

“I can take it,” you say, wrapping your arms around Logan’s neck.

“You’re my good girl, hm? Gonna take my cock? You sure?”

“Yes, Logan. Need all of it, please.”

“I got you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Logan slides his cock inside you, inch by inch, and you both moan when he bottoms out.

“You feel good?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. You groan, only at the fact that he’s not moving yet.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he smiles, slowly starting to move, beginning to fuck you. And he was right, he’s fucking you well. Better than anything you’ve ever felt.

He pulls out almost entirely for the first few thrusts, then stuffing you full of his big cock again, your wet pussy pulsing around him, sucking him back in. Your heart beats happily against your chest and he can feel it too; he’s slotted against your body as closely as he can be.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well. You still okay, princess?”

You grin and take his face to kiss him, his hips stilling just as he’s buried inside you as deeply as possible. You make out with him for a few seconds, pussy spasming around his uncontrollably, and you feel Logan squirm and pull out of you a bit because he doesn’t want to cum yet.

“That’s how good I feel,” you smile up at him.

Logan grins, burying his face in your neck to kiss you there as his hips begin to move again. He kisses over your jaw and your cheeks as a hand comes down to rub your clit. Together with his dick inside you, pulsing with warmth and pleasure, you suddenly feel all the energy of your body flowing between your thighs again.

You whimper against Logan’s face, your cheek catching against his.

“You close, baby?”

“Mhhm,” is the only sound you can muster as you cling to Logan, letting him fuck your pussy and play with your clit until you’re almost there.

“Such a good girl for me. Want you to cum for me, alright, princess? Gonna feel so fucking good, yeah?”

Your response is a whimper against his lips as you let go, and pleasure floods your body. Your pussy clenches around Logan’s dick, and while he’s still rubbing your clit, fucking you through your orgasm, he cums.

Logan cums so much you’re not sure where your orgasm ends and his begins, but you know you don’t stop feeling good until he’s drained until the last drop and your pussy is stuffed full with his cum.

You both slow down bit by bit, breathless and grinning at each other, not letting go. When Logan brings his hand back up between your faces, it’s slick with your wetness and covered in his cum, and you take his wrist to guide him towards your face.

You look Logan in the eyes as you suck his and your cum off his fingers, one by one, and Logan kisses you the second you’re done.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers in your ear, slowly pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms when he lies down.

“Thank you,” you respond shyly, unsure what to say. You’re too happy to pay attention to your words.

“I’m always here for you, baby. You know that. And as soon as you’re ready to move on, I’ll take you on the best date of your life, okay?”

You grin, kissing his lips, “Okay. And until then?”

“Until then I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours every evening, and you can sleep in my bed whenever you don’t feel like being alone. Sound good?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his chest, your heart warm and happy as you feel yourself getting tired, “Sounds good.”

P.S. thank you for reading <3 reblog and let me know what you liked most about this fic for Logan to come and eat your pussy out every night <3

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #deadpool and wolverine #title is a bit misleading bc it’s about reader and her ex and not about Logan but I needed this title for me lol #fem!reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett x you #selfcarecap

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usedpidemo · 4 months ago

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Girlfriend experience (Twice Tzuyu)

“I need your help.”

You’re typing up your next application letter when you’re suddenly interrupted by Tzuyu’s familiar voice. “Sure, what’s up?”

There’s no way you’re turning down a request from Tzuyu.

She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully, knowing regardless of the outcome, everything will never be the same.

Then, she speaks.

“Can you be my boyfriend for a day?”

—————

You don’t take it seriously. For one, you know damn well you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Chou Tzuyu, let alone earn the coveted title of ‘boyfriend.’ It’s already a privilege to share rooms with her in college, how much more to be her personal tutor. Sure, she loves to mess around with you every now and then, but even by her standards, this is one joke too out there to make.

“Okay Tzu, very funny, but come to me when you actually need help with something,” you tell her, chuckling, unable to hide your toothy smile before returning to your computer screen.

You overlook the intent behind her stare.

“I’m serious. I really need someone to pose as my boyfriend for a day,” she replies, to the point. Another thing about living with Tzuyu is that she’s always straightforward. There’s no beating around the bush with her; everything she says is the truth. So why aren’t you taking her plea with a little more genuine concern?

“Yeah. Me. Your boyfriend. As if that’s gonna convince anyone,” you reply, typing away at your keyboard, unfazed by her statement. You still don’t buy it.

“Yes. I believe you can be my boyfriend.”

You laugh again. More sarcastic than amused this time. “Real cute, Tzu.” You face your roommate with an unamused grimace. “Now what do you want from me?”

“Do I need to slap you to prove I’m not lying?” Tzuyu returns your mockery with a contemptuous glare of her own.

Still under the impression that she’s toying with you, you playfully challenge her. “Sure. I don’t think you’re being serious—”

A thunderous echo ripples between the space between you and Tzuyu, immediately closing the gap. Everything happens in an instant. You’re sent swerving back, along with your swivel chair. A bright sore blot forms on your cheek, the pain not registering right away. A little more applied force on that hit and she would have dashed your head against the wall.

“Oh—damn.” You groan, pressing a palm on the reddened area, flush with blood, as if a bump had formed from the sharp impact. “All right, I believe you now.”

She’s shaking her head, her expression intense, humorless. “Now will you hear me out?”

“Yes!” you shout at her, inflection teetering on screaming, nodding your head in agreement.

“Great. Go fix up your face first, then I’ll explain everything,” she says before turning away and walking out the front door, leaving you on your own to fix yourself.

—————

Tzuyu doesn’t even come back to the apartment by the time you clean up yourself. It’s late in the evening when she bursts in, bringing a few pairs of freshly bought expensive outfits. It’s part of the package living with one of the richest women in your college. Her entire wardrobe is fitted with nothing but designer clothing, jewelry costing up to the hundreds of thousands, and tailor made outfits designed to fit only her and her alone. Her casual attire could be your Sunday best. Her pajamas could be your everyday wear. It’s as if her entire personality is to be a model—and if she were, she’d be the face of every brand and on the front cover of every fashion magazine in existence.

“I know this sounds outrageous, but I want you to be my boyfriend even for a day,” she repeats herself, the idea still too incomprehensible for your brain. You could listen to it again and again. For anyone, the thought is nothing but an impossible fantasy, but for Tzuyu to personally pick you, even if it's only make-believe, is something special.

You have more questions than answers. “Yeah, but why? Why do you want a boyfriend for a day?”

“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend. Well, I’m forced to.”

In contrast to her extravagant lifestyle, she’s sharing takeout chicken with you. More often than not, you eat the same food, with Tzuyu often deferring to you for choices. Usually fast food, it’s actually her preference.

“Okay, so what does this have to do with having a boyfriend?”

She takes a sip of her sake. “They expect me to have one by the time I graduate.”

“Okay and? What happens if you don’t?”

“Arranged marriage. I promised my parents that I would find a boyfriend by the time I turn 25. It’s how I got to be independent, how I got into college” —she faces you, her lovely eyes twinkling— “and how I met you.”

Observing Tzuyu, you notice a few details. The most obvious being that she’s pretty, even when chomping on a chicken leg’s bone. The second is her worried gaze. This is something that’s clearly been bothering her for a while. She has deferred to you countless times for multiple academic projects ranging from research to exams, each request building more and more trust, to the point where you’ve become her closest confidant, in addition to being her roommate. Unlike before, this is not a test with a defined system and something easily manipulated and planned for, and you can’t really prepare any better either.

On your end, she pays generously; you’re only applying for an internship because your course demands it. You could start your business with the money earned from helping her. But her payroll will eventually stop.

“Listen. We might never see each other again when we graduate in a few months, and I’m sure you’re tired of me asking for your help when you could be doing more,” she says, tone gloomy, nervous. “But this is more you being the only guy I can trust—this is my freedom on the line. Even if I mostly hated my time here, it’s still better than whatever life they want for me.”

You don’t question her reasoning, even if that last bit sounds hyperbolic. Surely it can’t be that bad. You and Tzuyu have a lot more in common than you realize: you don’t like the college grind, you’re both admittedly reclusive, and you’ll miss each other’s presence when the time comes.

“Couldn't you try getting someone as a stand-in? I’m not even in the top 100 most handsome guys in the student body. It’ll never fly.”

She chuckles, showing flashes of positive energy for the first time in a while. “Nope. They’d fumble the script so bad it wouldn’t be worth the shot. I’d figure since you’re like one of twelve people I constantly talk to, I could trust you to be a convincing enough boyfriend.”

“Does it have to be a boyfriend? Why not a girl?”

“I wish. I’d love to bring Sana along, and she’d be such a joy for them, but boomer parents, am I right?”

You both share a hearty laugh.

“Anyway,” Tzuyu puts away her plate, having finished her share of dinner to present you three shopping bags full of newly bought clothes. “These are all yours, just wear the one you like the most to our date. Plus I don’t think I ever bought you new clothes?”

“Nope, nope you haven’t.” You shake your head, remembering that your current computer setup, PS5, Lego collection, and closet full of jackets and joggers that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room were all paid under Tzuyu’s name.

—————

“You never told me they were still living in Taiwan,” you say to Tzuyu, watching the ground from your airplane seat, which happens to be next to the wing. You’ve never been on a flight before—until now. Something you should have admitted, but your pride got in the way. “I thought you said they owned property here!”

Tzuyu blushes in shame. “Did I?” she questions herself, before suddenly recalling, “Oh yeah! I lived here when I was in fourth grade. It was only one year though. I loved my schooling here; they didn’t.”

None of what she said fully registers in your brain. What does occupy your head is the idea of plummeting 30,000 feet from the air. Even with all the safety measures, your mind races with a hundred scenarios ending in your sudden and tragic demise.

As the plane begins to move before eventually ascending, you can’t stare away as outside scenery turns into vague blurs sweeping by. In just a few moments, you’re so far high that you can only see clouds. It sends your brain into overdrive. Meanwhile, Tzuyu’s completely relaxed, having placed a sleep mask for the 15 hour flight to come. She doesn’t have to see at your worst, repeatedly cursing over the sound of music playing through her earphones. At least you’re comfortably secluded in first class, where each pair of passengers occupy their own private cabin for sleeping, eating, and even showering. No one can hear you scream.

The staff can’t come fast enough, even if closing the blinds is the simplest thing you can do.

—————

On arrival, Tzuyu’s surprises keep coming in droves. A personalized driver and car awaits at the airport’s exit, carrying all your luggage by himself. He’s got his own expensive suit, opening the rear passenger doors on your behalf.

“Welcome home, Miss Chou. And this companion of yours is?”

“My boyfriend,” she warmly tells the driver, eliciting a curious look from him towards you. You’re not doing anything wrong—yet—but you can tell by his expression that you’re not giving off a good first impression. “I’m taking him to meet my parents.”

“Of course. Where shall I drive you? Shall I take you directly to them today?”

“No. I’d like to spend the rest of the day at my own place.”

“Certainly. Penthouse it is.”

After a leisurely half-hour drive through the city, the car pulls up in front of a high-rise building. The front entrance alone can be its own five-star luxury hotel and resort. Tzuyu says only millionaires are able to buy and own flats here, which makes her ownership of the penthouse even more absurd. Only now you’re witnessing the fullest extent of her wealth after seeing brief flashes throughout college.

Her lavish penthouse welcomes you from the moment you step off the elevator. Despite being away for years, the place looks as good as new, well-maintained in her absence. Every single room is twice the size of your whole apartment back home, with countless amenities and utilities dedicated to a certain purpose. There’s up to five bedrooms, each decked with their own king-size mattress and as many bathrooms to accommodate up to four guests at a time. The whole setup is topped up by a background of the city skyline seen through floor wide glass windows.

You don’t really have any words to say at this point. You’re just soaking it all in, filled with wonder and awe.

“All this and you still chose to live in a regular ass dorm,” you comment, pressing one of the piano keys, its sound echoing all over the massive place. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” she says, pacing in and out of the rooms, her voice reverberating throughout the living room. “I had to get close to someone, and having my own place was not gonna help whatsoever.”

“Christ—” you mutter to yourself, still taken aback at how fucking expensive Tzuyu lives. Someone of her kind shouldn’t be pretending to act like everyone else—struggling to get by and having to grind their ass off. She doesn’t need anything beyond a high school diploma and some common sense; she should be enjoying herself, living a larger than life lifestyle that others will be jealous of.

Still, this shouldn’t be stressing her out. Despite her numerous rebuttals, she could have easily placed someone else in your shoes right now, someone more capable to face her seemingly stringent family.

You can only draw it up to rich people problems, something you’ll likely never experience in your lifetime.

“Would you like to go out for dinner later? Or would you like for us to just have delivery instead?” Tzuyu asks, approaching you with an endearing smile and an enticing offer: on her hand are a dangling pair of keys with a prancing horse etched on them.

She has you under her spell, if everything else wasn’t convincing enough.

“Name me a nice place to eat and I’ll think about it.”

—————

You end up staying out way later than intended.

It’s a miracle her car doesn’t have a single dent by the time you return to the condominium. In the time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, you’ve grown more comfortable with the girlfriend role given to you. You don’t even wait for the valet driver to open her side of the door; the act comes naturally. She steps out of the vehicle, one leg peeking through her dress, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She reaches out her hand for you to take, and it feels like a habit you’ve been doing for years.

You’ve gotten your fair share of jealous looks over the past few hours. Even now, bystanders in the front lobby are making a scene out of you being together. All of them are asking the same question: how does someone like you have a woman like Chou Tzuyu by your side.

Deep down, you recognize it’s an act, a part of the show. Tzuyu knows this too. She sells her parts like she’s selling her beauty: naturally well. On the other hand, you are showing tiny cracks on your face, only crumbling after you disappear from everyone’s view behind that elevator.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” she asks you, friendly and soft as ever.

You sigh, unable to find it in you to answer. Even as you open your mouth, you lack the conviction to give off a confident response, and it shows in your word choice. “Maybe.”

Tzuyu furrows an eyebrow, frowning. “What’s up?”

You can’t even look at her as you talk, only finding some semblance of relief watching the city from your view. Lovely, just like Tzuyu. “What if this doesn’t work,” you tell her, tone low, evidently anxious. What if—”

“Don’t overthink it,” she turns you toward her, brushing a hand up and down your shoulder. For a moment, you see her eyes gleam with the night life’s reflection. “Even if it all goes horribly wrong, the blame completely falls on me. Remember that.”

“I might never see you again. Hell, you might never go back,” you reply, your doubts not quelled in the slightest. Neither of you care that you’ve got your hands on each other, unwilling to let go.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she says, unfazed by your pessimism. “At least I made up for everything you’ve done for me, including this.”

“Really? As if you haven’t been doing that since I first helped you—”

Tzuyu laughs, her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I got nothing better to spend it on. Might as well do it on someone who actually deserves it.”

You’re not sure whether to feel elated or flattered by that statement. Your rosy cheeks say the former. Perhaps this is a consequence of spending way too much time with her, or that you’ve been putting plenty of investment in your role. Either way, you’re better off spending the remainder of your night not overthinking about it. It’s been a long day.

“I’m going to bed. It’s getting late, and you said we’re getting picked up early tomorrow.”

“Right. I completely forgot, too. I guess we must have been having too much fun together, huh?”

Neither of you even bring up the fact that you were holding each other close the entire time, bordering on romance. It’s probably for the best.

—————

“Hey.”

Tzuyu’s feathery voice brings your attention back to reality. For most of the ride, you’ve been mindlessly staring out the window. From passing cars to idle trees, from long stretches of highway to winding mountain roads. Chatter inside the vehicle passes through your ears like radio static. Thoughts racing in your mind comprise numerous outcomes and what-ifs, none of which you’re able to see the ending. Never mind the fact that she’s looking her most divine, her most prim, perfectly suited for such a special occasion. The less you think about what’s ahead, the better.

She doesn’t make it any easier, especially when she’s leaning forward with her seatbelt, her warm expressions invoking sweet innocence and genuine concern. Her fingers are twiddling with yours, gripped to the leather seats, trying to get as much of your interest. “You all right?”

You swallow down a nonexistent lump in your throat. “I’m fine. What is it?”

“My parents are asking what your favorite food is so they can prepare it for you.”

“Tell them I like beef,” is your immediate response before looking out the window again. She doesn’t press you any further, thankfully leaving you with your thoughts for the rest of the drive.

The car eventually stops in front of a large gate. Not a sign of security in sight, except for a pair of cameras positioned on both ends. After a brief scan, the entryway opens of its own accord. You’ve left the city so far behind, you might as well be high above the sky.

A couple more miles of driving till you finally reach your destination: a large mansion with a fountain statue in front of the entrance. A dozen expensive cars are parked right outside, all covered in sheets for safety. None of these details are surprising considering you’ve previously seen Tzuyu’s wealth firsthand. You’re starting to believe the rumors about her being the heiress of some business empire are true.

The driver needlessly announces that you’ve arrived before he steps out to open the passenger doors—Tzuyu first, then yours.

To think you’d end up getting involved in family affairs straight out of a soap opera.

Tzuyu looks you in the eye, reaching out her hand with a reassuring nod. No words, just shared confidence and a slither of hope between you both. Despite the initial hesitation, you hold her and together, you enter the unknown.

Inside, more lavish decor greets you everywhere. Stuff that’s more alienating than welcoming. It’s a daunting presence being here that you end up forgetting to remove your shoes before entering, despite the butler’s admonishment. Tzuyu ends up snapping you back, and you quickly swap your footwear for theirs before advancing. Mercifully, there’s only two pairs of eyes in the room watching, but one is observing you through a harsh gaze.

The servant leads you out to a garden where you finally get a glimpse at Tzuyu’s parents for the first time. Also laid out on the lawn is a large table with different kinds of food being prepared by other butlers. Unsurprisingly, she runs ahead to greet them, leaving you on your own to introduce yourself to them.

“Welcome home, Tzu,” says both Papa Chou and Mama Chou to their daughter while she runs to her father, throwing a huge bear hug. She gives her mother a similarly loving embrace after.

Meanwhile, you’re taking little steps down the stairs to the garden, continually reminding yourself not to fuck up.

“Oh! Right—” Tzuyu looks in your direction, notices your plodding pace. She’s pointing you out to her parents like you’re the most important person in the room. “That—that’s my boyfriend over there.”

At this point, you can easily fold a dozen different ways. Piss your pants, shit on them, run away like a spotted convict. You know as much about her family as anyone else in your position; the information given to you is incredibly scarce and vague at best. But you’re bound to Tzuyu’s hand like a string to a yarn. Your only saving grace is the hope that this event is a quick dine and drive and not some grandiose festivity.

It doesn’t help that the entire time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, not a single minute was spent on acting like her boyfriend.

All eyes fall upon you. It should have been a familiar feeling, something you can easily adjust to, but it isn’t. This is different. It’s not the same as being around friends and no-name strangers. Family judgment lingers on, especially after you’re through. Every little move counts.

Bowing to her parents, you pull your attempt at a friendly smile, falling somewhere between the line of goofy and awkward. “Great to meet you, Papa and Mama Chou.”

Your ‘girlfriend’ looks at you with a heightened sense of pride, convincing enough to be sincere. She’s hard carrying you in the acting department. Smiling more softly, she adds, “Shall we eat?”

—————

You and Tzuyu are seated opposite her parents on the large table, with a scrumptious feast filling in the space between. Food is eaten in small increments, with most of the lunch spent on lengthy conversation. It’s more of an interrogation and less of a friendly scene.

“So—how did you meet?” asks Papa Chou, tone as typical of a protective father, cold, calculated, and stern.

“He was my roommate when I got into university,” Tzuyu replies, constantly shooting quick glances at you, eating your share leisurely. Both of you agreed that unless asked, she’d take on the role of your mouthpiece. You’re nodding; you’d say the same thing—and it’s one of the few things that’s true. “It was a chance encounter.”

“A roommate? As in—you moved into a dorm?”

“Not exactly a dorm, but an apartment close to campus. The dorms were too small to fit all my stuff in.”

“You should have just moved into the dorms,” he says, aggressively munching his meal between sentences. “How can you sleep peacefully at night knowing he’s just right next door?”

“All right, let’s not offend our guest here.” Mama Chou interjects, trying to change the course of the conversation. You’d immediately refute him if your mouth isn’t filled with food at the moment. She faces you, asking, “So, how long have you been dating?”

Now you’re swallowing hard, caught off-guard by the surprise question aimed at you. Tzuyu’s hands are tied; she’s watching, but she won’t be saving you.

“About three years,” you say, staring back at your ‘girlfriend,’ looking for a lifeline by simply staring at her. You’re in love; no you’re not. “Some of our schedules overlapped too, so we helped each other out.”

“Yeah,” adds Tzuyu, nodding in agreement. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have passed some of my classes. If nothing else, he’s been nothing but kind and gracious to me.”

“That’s great to hear.” Mama Chou smiles; she’s clearly the friendlier and more approachable of the two parents so far. “I’m glad our daughter has a friend she can trust in college. But do you not have other friends too?”

“I’ve made a few friends besides him too.” Tzuyu interjects, stepping in right as you’re about to continue speaking. She presents a photo of her social circle at a restaurant, consisting entirely of the women she’s close with, including a fellow Taiwanese student. You met most of them because of her. “I hang out with the girls more than him, so don’t worry.”

“They’re all pretty.” Mama Chou looks at the picture with delight. On the other hand, Papa Chou remains stone faced and unimpressed. She’s pointing her finger at the girl to her daughter’s right. “Especially her.”

“Oh, her? That’s Sana from Japan. She’s my best friend actually,” replies Tzuyu, grinning toothily recalling her. “And the two behind her are Japanese too—Momo and Mina.”

“So it’s a multinational university? That’s cute.”

“We’re still few and far between,” she corrects, putting away her phone. “It’s just that we happened to enter university at the same time, and we’re all foreigners, so we bonded through our shared experience living far from home. We’ll be graduating together in a few months.”

Her mother continues to nod concurrently, turning her attention away from her daughter to you again. “So what happens after you graduate? What are your plans?”

Initially, you hesitate, reaching a crossroads. You can follow the broad outline given by Tzuyu: something about opening a restaurant franchise, following her family’s footsteps in running a business empire, or say it as it is.

“I—don’t really know to be honest,” you tell her, glancing at Tzuyu, and she blinks rapidly, her smile wobbling. To everyone else, she looks calm otherwise. “I’m focusing on my studies right now, and I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“What course are you taking?”

“Mechanical Engineering. I want to work with cars and all that.”

“So you like cars, hm?” Papa Chou interrupts, leaning his head forward with intrigue. “Tell me—you watch F1? You better be!”

“Absolutely!” You’re staring at him, taking control over the conversation, growing comfortable with your newfound position.

“What’s your team? You better not say Red Bull or Ferrari.”

“McLaren.”

“Driver?”

“Lando.”

He laughs—heartily. He’s offering his hand for you to shake, which you do. You’re then tugged forward by the harsh tug of his grip, much to the amusement of everyone else. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Before you know it, you’re being pulled aside and dragged away from Tzuyu and her mom, leading you to the other side of the mansion.

—————

“Good God,” you say, your jaw agape, blown away at what Papa Chou is presenting you: an orange McLaren F1 tucked away inside an enormous garage filled with other luxury cars. “This—this is my dream car.”

“Handsome, right?” He’s leaning by the door, grinning like a child. “It’s got a thousand miles on it too. Wifey doesn’t really like it, though. Says it takes up too much space in the garage.”

“Shit—sorry for my language—how’d you end up buying this?” you ask, swinging open the opposite butterfly door, admiring the interior. “There’s just no way this is real—”

“It’s as real as real gets.” He cuts you off, chuckling at your utter disbelief. “I bought it off some English comedian, then I had it restored and repainted. Says he’s crashed it a few times. Maybe he has, as you kids say, skill issue.”

“So—why are you showing me this?” you ask, turning to him as you’re both seated on opposing passenger sides.

“I was going to give this away to the one who was supposed to marry her,” he says, holding his side of the steering wheel. “But she wanted to live away from us. Very far away.”

You raise your eyebrows, curious.

“Tzuyu is a good person. She’s kind, compassionate and looks after those she’s close with. But she’s also blunt and to the point,” he continues, facing you mid-conversation. “If she feels that something is wrong, she won’t hesitate to call it out. She doesn’t care whether you’re friend or family. She trusts her intuition first above everything. So for her to have a boyfriend only means one thing: she really has full confidence in that person.

“I think you’re a good guy, and I thank you for helping her. But I don’t want my daughter to come home with a broken heart. I would tell you to leave her alone, but I don’t think she would want me to say that. So, I only want you to promise me this one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Make her feel she’s not alone.”

You blink. Again. A few times for good measure. There’s a lot to comprehend and digest, even when it’s been simplified to a simple promise. You’re not sure whether you can agree to that. It may be a straightforward command, but it’s one with a lot of weight borne on its shoulders.

“Promise me that you won’t leave her alone when you go back. Believe me when I say I haven’t seen her face shine that bright in years. I want to see my daughter smiling like that again when she comes home in the future. So I know she’s in good hands. Make sure she does not regret her decision.”

You look away, hesitant, uncertain whether this is still all for show or a genuine reminder. Now you realize how deeply connected you are to Tzuyu. You don’t remember life before meeting her, and you can’t imagine a life after her.

“I will.”

It isn’t the answer you want to give. You’re still trying to fully grasp everything. However, it is the answer that he wants to hear.

—————

After lunch, you and Tzuyu are left to your own devices. Your private talk with her father is played off as a fun discussion about his love for cars, completely disregarding the actual content of your conversation. Probably for the best; such an occasion demands a positive vibe overall. You spend the afternoon exploring their gigantic mansion, amazed by the vastness of the place over the grandiose material taking most of the space. If not for the presence of a butler at every corner, you can easily get lost for days.

“How long did you live here till you moved out?” you ask Tzuyu, examining a childhood photo of her with her family, including someone you haven’t met—her brother.

“Lived here during my teens. Was homeschooled throughout my primary years. Moved out when I was sixteen entering senior high.” She notices you taking a hold of her family picture, particularly noting her brother. “He’s also studying abroad, too. Not as far away as me, but still far from home.”

“Does he know?” You turn to Tzuyu, lifting an eyebrow.

“Of course he does,” she says, facing you with that trademark gummy smile. “He thinks you’re cute, if you’re wondering.”

“No, no. I meant—”

“Oh—sorry I misunderstood,” she replies, laughing, blushing with embarrassment. “But he was the one who convinced me to move out. He told me if I don't experience everything for myself, then I’m not living.”

You agree. You’re worlds apart, from completely different backgrounds, different upbringings. And yet, you’ve been brought together by some divine intervention, finding common ground to stand on.

“So—what did my dad tell you in private?” she asks, her eyes wandering back to the photo, lasering in on her father.

You pause, reluctant to reveal the truth, even if she’ll most likely believe you. “Not much. Just showed me his car collection.”

She grins. Innocent as it may look, she knows that’s not the full truth. “He told you something about me, didn’t he?”

Your heart is racing. For how dependent she is on you, she can be rather intelligent and clever.

“He definitely told you something. I just know.”

Tzuyu looks around and finds no one in sight. After double checking, she takes you by the wrist, dragging you along. She moves quickly, even through her heels. She takes you up the stairs and into an unexplored room, releasing you forward without care once inside. While you’re staggering and struggling to stay planted on your feet, she shuts the door behind you both and locks it.

There are no cameras in the room to catch you, and the blinds are completely closed off. It’s just you two again.

“That’s quiet enough.” Tzuyu steadily approaches you with a new demeanor—a straight, serious attitude reminiscent of her father. “I shouldn’t have to ask twice. What did my dad tell you?”

You were going to explain everything without the extra theatrics anyway, but admittedly you’re now feeling more secure to admit in private. Their security cameras can catch strange sights, but not sounds. Hell, maybe the little stunt she pulled could be more suspicious than anything else.

“He told me to look after you. Make you feel not alone,” you say, unable to look her directly in the eye, your gaze wandering left and right. “He also said that you’re in good hands because of me.”

Tzuyu remains silent, only staring right at you as she draws ever closer. She doesn’t know exactly how to react or what to say in light of your confession. You can tell the moment the wind in her sails has been knocked out: when you said love.

“How did he come to that conclusion?” she asks, the gap between you only breaths apart.

“He said that you trust your intuition more than anything,” you reply, tone low but straight, mustering the strength to meet her halfway. “And that you haven’t been smiling like that for so long.”

She furrows her eyebrow, taken aback by the last statement. “Really? He did not—”

“He really did. I’m just telling you everything as I heard it,” you say, grinning through your teeth, laughing. There goes the little tension between you.

“Can he not—” Tzuyu cracks, strutting around you, toward the lone king-sized bed similar to the one in her penthouse. “He literally calls me all the time. Hell, he was calling me the night before our flight. Don’t believe him.”

“I won’t,” you reply, still chuckling.

Your gaze wanders down her baby blue dress, perfectly fit and tailored for her light frame. The lengthy skirt flows around her legs like water. As is her long hair, a mixture of black and brunette. You don’t have to state the obvious, but you still feel the need to say it: Tzuyu is incredibly pretty. She’s been hearing that from everyone from the moment she was born. No amount of repetition can truly describe how attractive she looks, like this one occasion was designed specifically for her.

“So—he says I trust my intuition more than anything,” she mutters, glancing around the room. The bedroom belongs to none other than Tzuyu herself. It’s the place she grew up in, and she feels nostalgia being inside it after being gone for so long. Her hands brush along the edge of the mattress, deep in thought. “I never really thought of it like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. But he’s right about one thing,” she says, turning around to face you. She’s taking a good look at you from the neck down, and for the first time in your life, you’re dressed like someone worthy of a person like her. “I do love you.”

Before you even have a second to react, everything goes off. She catches your lips with hers. It’s instantaneous.

Her hands take hold of your body, still unsure of what to do. You know exactly what to do, though, and that’s to give in. You don’t give it a second thought. You yield to her touch and melt into her passionate kiss, pressing deeper and exploring her shapely figure in return. You’re pulling on each other’s clothes and skin, unwilling to let go.

You can taste the pent-up need on each other’s lips.

Yeah, you love her too, actually.

You love her dress too—not only because baby blue perfectly suits Tzuyu like butter on bread, but also because it leaves her back exposed to your touch. She hums, whines into your lips, sucking on air between hungry kisses, taken by surprise of this new sensation. In response, she’s tugging on your dress coat, pushing it off your shoulders and down to the floor.

“How long have you wanted to tell me that?” you mutter, breaking off the kiss, hot air pressed against her mouth.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” she replies, grinning through her sweet lips.

“I never said I love you though. Like at all.”

“But I can tell by the way you’re kissing me.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen Sana kiss you like this.”

“And? Does that bother you?”

Her grin is turning into a wicked smirk. Slowly but surely.

“Not at all. I’ve been telling you right from the start: it should have been her, not me.”

She shakes her head. “You want me to hurt Dahyun’s feelings by bringing Sana along? You heartless fuck.”

A new can of worms has just been opened up. None of which was ever in the equation till now. You regret stopping such an intimate moment for this conversation.

“It’s either that or you lose me forever,” she says, breaking the brief gap of silence. “And what could hurt you more?”

Nothing. The answer is nothing, but you don’t want to directly admit it. You need Tzuyu.

So you end up kissing her again, and she graciously returns the love twofold. She needs you just as much. You’re both meant for each other, and this is the sign.

You push her onto the bed, maintaining the connection as you continue to explore each other’s clothed bodies. In any other situation, all your clothes would be scattered everywhere, and even in her childhood home, you’re both more than willing to make the move. It’s dangerous, yes, but that’s what makes it fun and exciting. After all, she said it herself; if she wasn’t trying, she wasn’t living.

“Wait.” Tzuyu mumbles against your mouth, gently pushing you off. You’re halfway through pulling the zipper on her back when she suddenly snaps the link in half. You take the hint and clamber off.

Seeing Tzuyu flat on her back in bed, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, is a sight a thousand pictures worth taking. Your fingers are anxiously waiting, trembling in anticipation on the corner of your pants, ready to flip at the drop of her word. But then—

“Let’s not. I mean, I don’t wanna say it, but this is just a little too fast for my liking,” she says, glancing around her bedroom. It would certainly be a strange feeling to get fucked in her childhood room, among other things. “Plus you know—”

She’s pointing to the locked door behind you. While you both hear nothing at the moment, you never know who’s right around the corner.

Wistfully, you sigh in despair. She sits up and pats you on the head.

“Sorry. I want it as much as you do, but not here. I almost let my thoughts get the best of me,” she says regretfully.

“I understand,” you reply, defeated and crestfallen, despite her efforts to comfort you.

Turning your head back, you find Tzuyu slipping a hand between her dress, fishing for the panties from her legs. She pushes them past her heels and places them beside her on the bed.

Aware of the consequences of what’s about to happen, she looks at you with an inviting smile.

—————

“Oh—oh fuck—” whines Tzuyu, her thighs spread wide between your hungry, ravenous tongue. She’s lying flat on the floor, giving you full access to her cunt, but with one condition: that her bed is not to be messed with in any capacity. Of course you took her up on that offer without hesitation; it’s the easiest thing in the world to avoid when the space between the door and the mattress is just as long as the steps between the back garden and the mansion.

And as much as you want to tear through her dress and feel her pale, creamy skin, you still have to meet people looking as fresh as you possibly can. You’re telling yourself this will be a quick affair, an appetizer for what’s to come later in the night.

Except your brain says otherwise.

Your tongue flickers against Tzuyu’s aching core in bursts. Slamming her eyes shut, she whines and whimpers. Her nails dig into the carpet floor, nerves trembling and convulsing with each flat lick and press on her wet cunt. It’s evident in how violent her body reacts that she’s new to this feeling, something she’ll have to get used to.

Meanwhile, you’re having a feast. You’re lapping away at her dripping pussy, taking every little drop of slick into your mouth, and she’s so generously soaked. Despite her reluctance, you’re pulling her creamy thighs against your face, wanting her to suffocate you—to utterly ruin you. Even at her most vulnerable, she’s still as careful and dainty as ever. A good girl, like her father says.

You wonder how he’ll look at both of you after this.

“Mm—please, I don’t wanna hurt you—” she mewls, making an effort to resist your push despite the constant surge of pleasure coursing through her body. Her lashes flutter as she struggles to open her eyes.

“I can take it—just give in—” you tell her, your voice muffled into her skin as you hungrily continue to eat her out. “You taste so fucking good.”

Tzuyu eventually folds. Gives in to ecstasy and lets herself go. You’re forcing these deep, whiny bursts from her mouth as you drag your tongue on her clit, satisfying her most sensitive spots. Her cries echo throughout the room, past the large doors. It’s a dangerous place to be caught in, but you’re so close to drawing everything out from her. You don’t regret a single moment. As much as you want to pull out and replace it with your fingers, she tastes too good for your greedy mouth to share. You’re going to drink her for all her worth.

Her voice cracks with every flick you give; her breaths grow frantic. At this point, the pleasure is becoming too much to bear; she can only grip the carpet tile and brace for impact. She’s quivering as your fingers join your tongue in parting her cunt to be taken and used. It sounds sympathetic when she moans a high-pitched cry, declaring, “Gonna cum—fuck!”

It doesn’t deter you in the slightest. Hell, it only encourages you more.

Except you don’t get the pleasure of replying or gloating, because she cums. Hard.

You do, however, earn the gratification of laying your tongue flat on her cunt when her body locks, before violently crashing. Torrential waves of slick gush all over your needy, thirsty tongue. You lap it up—every last drop, even as it spills onto the carpet floor, drenching your face and the area around her crotch. Her moans come out in waning hoarse bursts, trying to keep your little secret as hidden as possible. In reality, it was obvious to anyone with a functioning ear and a respectable distance away. The locked door was a nonfactor.

Despite your reluctance, you slowly pull away from her heavenly core, licking your messy lips clean, saving the remains with your fingers.

Still, the desire remains. You’re leaving soft kisses down her thighs, watching Tzuyu depleted of strength as the fallout from her orgasm persists. Unable to find the strength to regain her composure, her eyes remain glued shut, her jaw slack, her breaths heavy. Her arms find solace in each other, folded and held close to her stomach, as if in utter pain, when it’s really just your tongue. “Oh God—”

“How does it feel, Tzu?” you say before kissing her smooth skin.

She struggles to breathe, let alone utter a single word. By the way her lips curl into a satisfied smile, you can conclude that she enjoyed every moment. Rolling over to her side, even in this flushed, broken state, her profile looks so beautiful. To think she wakes up like this every single day.

Suddenly, you hear a loud knock on the door, followed by a prompt call. “Miss Tzuyu—your parents are looking for you.”

The blunt voice instantly springs Tzuyu back to life, immediately ignoring the crash from her climax. “Shit,” she sharply mutters, looking over to the bed where she thinks her panties lie, but are actually in the pocket of your suit jacket. “Do you think they—”

You fire back a mischievous glare, complete with matching playful face.

This was her idea after all; you were just following along.

—————

Waiting by the same vehicle you arrived in, you’re about to be driven back to her penthouse. The sun setting has begun setting down, and you both have a few days in Taiwan before flying back home. Tzuyu’s with her parents at the front door, giving them one last hug and kiss goodbye.

It’s only a brief exchange. She quickly rejoins you with a quick peck on the cheek. Looking past her are the waves of her family wishing you safe travels.

“What did they say? Where’s the driver?” You ask Tzuyu, curious about the lack of a butler.

Smirking, she jingles a pair of keys in her hand like it's her personalized bell. “We’re not taking this car back.”

“Then what is our car then?”

She presses a button, and your attention is immediately diverted by the roar of a powerful engine. A familiar two-door coupe pulls up directly in front of the entrance.

You face Tzuyu, then to her dad, who simply motions his hand out to the car. She hands over the keys before walking ahead, swinging open one of the butterfly doors. “It’s already rush hour, so unless you wanna be late for our dinner date—”

You immediately rush past her and into the driver’s seat, revving up the engine. “Okay. Get in.”

—————

As the Chou property quickly disappears from the rearview mirror, you glance at Tzuyu, realizing something seems off.

There’s no emotional goodbye, no formality—just a brief exchange and then you’re sent off, just like that.

“There’s no dinner date right?” you ask her, your attention primarily focused on the winding, curving road ahead. Even with your brief experience behind the wheel of a fast car, this older one in particular requires more skill and direct input. “Surely you didn’t book one on the same day as—”

Tzuyu doesn’t respond, only leaning back on the passenger seat. A cursory glance reveals the curl of her lips as she seemingly falls asleep.

“You’re quite naughty, you know that?” you comment, nudging her elbow, eliciting a laugh out of her. “What happened to the so-called ‘princess’ of the Chou family?”

“You know why I even bothered to come home, right?” she replies, opening her eyes and staring directly into you. “I don’t miss it that much.”

You can only chuckle in response.

“And yes—we don’t have a dinner date if you’re wondering,” she adds, her cheeky grin shifting into a coy, taunting smirk. “Really smart of you to realize that I wanted to leave before we are forced to stay overnight, or even worse.”

“I’ve spent better days in worse.”

She lowers her eyebrows. “Seriously—” she says, before immediately hesitating, thinking of another way to prove her point, when suddenly, “You should be thankful they didn’t notice the panties in your pocket.”

“And you should be thankful they didn’t notice the screams coming from the bedroom,” you retort.

“I was trying to hold back, dipshit.”

“That was you holding back?” You laugh hard at her half-hearted attempt of an excuse, seeing as you have a front row seat at how she crumbled. “Then what about when I fucking ate you out and you were cumming all over me? What was that?”

“You’re no better; what about those mumbles I hear at night, huh?” she says, tone hostile, altering her voice to mock yours as she continues, “Why do I sometimes hear my name in your room, huh? ‘Fuck—Tzuyu—you’re so tight Tzuyu—I’m gonna cum Tzuyu—’ Huh? What was that? You degenerate.”

“It’s none of your business, Tzuyu.”

“Maybe dad was right—I should have just had my own apartment!”

The car accelerates, its roar the loudest thing for miles. You’re blitzing through the freeway, speed cameras and fines be damned. Had conversation happened minutes earlier, when you were climbing down the mountains, neither of you would be talking right now.

“You don’t believe that.”

“You’re right—I don’t!” Tzuyu shouts before looking away. She doesn’t care anymore.

You stop twisting the knife, refocusing your priority on not intentionally driving the car into a lamppost this late into your journey.

So when you finally arrive at her apartment complex, neither of you hop out immediately. There’s a valet waiting in the wings to take over, but you’re not letting the world move on until you come to some form of compromise.

“Fine. I’m sorry Tzu. I just thought you didn’t like your parents that much—”

“I don’t,” she interjects, facing you again, her features cold and stern. Again, much like her father. “I’m just glad we got all that behind us without any issues.”

“And what about the whole ‘you heard me jerking off to you’ thing?”

“Still gross. If you weren’t helping me in my studies, I wouldn’t have asked for your help had I known sooner. Pervert.”

“Ouch.”

It’s more of a mock than a devastating admission to your character.

“Too late for that, though, sadly,” she says, sighing, both half-joking and half-serious. “Look, let’s just get this over with and pretend after that this never happened.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I’m so tired, I just wanna lie down and forget about all this.”

Neither of you realize you can be heard by the waiting valet driver. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“Are we really just gonna gloss over this issue—”

“It’s a non-issue. We didn’t get caught, you’re just being a dude. I know. I’ve been with worse guys. Now let’s go.”

—————

Despite her request, it's not as easy as it sounds. The touching, the kissing, the passion—it’s as real as real gets.

The same can be said about Tzuyu; behind the callousness and seeming apathy is a pent-up need and genuine desire.

You both emerge from the elevator already on each other’s bodies, wrestling for control, your suit jacket already on the metal floor. Her nails leave sharp, scathing marks on your skin, measuring you up. She’s loosening up the buttons on your shirt as you pin her against a wall, then lead her into one of the five bedrooms. As much as you want to break loose, she has you bound by the neck, making sure your lips never leave hers.

“So this is why you don’t want to hurt me,” you mutter, breath hot against hers, pressing a finger on your freshly clawed neck.

“Sorry,” Is all that she can say, and in your eyes, that’s more than enough.

“First kiss, first sex, and first argument all in one day. We’re really moving fast as a couple, huh?”

Tzuyu giggles. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven after all.”

Soon you’re back to making out, fueled by the need for each other’s lips. Despite your bodies crashing onto the bed, you’re still madly kissing each other. Running down the last of your buttons, she pops your shirt open in half, which you slip off. Pulling her back to your level, you kiss down her chin and suck on her neck, releasing a soft, airy whine from her delicate lips. She tilts her head up, opening more of her porcelain skin for the taking.

Every part of Tzuyu tastes perfect.

Meanwhile, your hands take lease of her back, roaming the exposed parts of her dress. Dabbling with the fabric, you finally pull on the zipper, the garment loosening, freeing, the feeling liberating. For the most part, Tzuyu has always been conservative, even in her most formal outfits. A slit in her dress for a leg at best. Beneath lies some white lace and matching panties, her crop top revealing more tummy than you’ve ever anticipated.

You’re getting more than what you’ve bargained for, and her figure is so mouthwatering.

With the top half of her dress bundled on her waist, you throw her back down on the mattress, biting on her collarbones. She’s panting, breaths frantic, her hands wrapped around your back, her muscles jolting with every little kiss. Raising a leg close to your hip, she’s softly muttering sweet nothings, whispering, eventually revealing what’s really on her mind. ‘I want you’— she mumbles, her dainty tone making your pulse race, tilting her head to the side to let you conquer more of her lithe body, which you happily do.

It’s been a long day. You could honestly stay in this position forever—your limbs twisting and tangling in a messy harmony, your bodies pressed together, finding solace and comfort in each other’s warmth.

Tzuyu squirms beneath, lightly pushing you away. Taking the hint, you relent. Lo and behold, half her neck and collarbones are swollen red, your handiwork. While she gathers much needed air for her lungs, you use this brief moment of respite to slip the remainder of her dress down her slender legs before tossing the garment aside to be forgotten. Your trousers end up joining them on the floor shortly after.

Even in this vulnerable state, Tzuyu looks so breathtakingly beautiful. Her perfect side is always on display, no matter what angle.

“Tell me what you want baby,” you whisper on her skin, leaving soft, more delicate kisses on them. Knowing how fragile she is, you’re making sure you don’t flatten her whenever you go down on her.

“I just want you,” she whines, her eyes slammed shut and body writhing, even without any contact. She’s already trembling at the mere thought of you.

“Be more specific, Tzu,” you command her gently. Sliding down your boxers, your aching cock can finally breathe from its constraints. You press a finger on her panties, and even through them, you can tell she’s soaked. Still, as much as you want to undo them, you want her to do the honors. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want your cock,” she replies, tossing and turning left and right. So wanton, so desperate. She slides down her panties for access, prompting you to hover above her. “Give it to me. I’ve wanted you to fuck me me for so long.”

“How long?” You toy with her, positioning your cock directly between her entrance, the tip lining against her dripping slit.

“Since earlier,” she whines, feeling the tease, the slow burn, the knife being twisted in her gut. She can’t do anything about it. “Please—just put it in, already.”

The smirk on your lips can’t grow any wider. “I don’t believe you. How long have you really wanted this?”

Tzuyu moans, moans, and moans, much to your delight. Despite her efforts to suppress herself, she inevitably folds. “I don’t care—just fuck me already, will you? I’ve touched myself listening to you. Is that what you wanna hear? I don’t care anymore—just—stick that thing inside me already!”

You didn’t think she would spill the beans this easily. Her wantonness and impatience—it speaks volumes. It’s arousing, makes your ears perk in excitement. A win is a win, after all.

Grabbing her waist, you slide your cock into her entrance—painstakingly slow, slowly setting yourself on fire. Even the slightest flex and push against your shaft could break you in half. Holding your breath, every moment growing more tense as she envelops you in her suffocating warmth. It doesn’t help that her legs clench around your hips, binding you with her for good.

There’s only one way this could end.

“Oh fuck—” you groan, slamming your eyes shut as your cock buries deep in her sopping cunt. An echoed cry rips through the vast room, a fine blend between your voices. She feels so good, so tight, so invitingly hot. Finding some semblance of control proves to be a challenge as her pussy convulses around your cock. The look in her eyes when they flutter open, her jaw slack, her brows shifting, the moan escaping her lips—it’s better than anything your imagination can project.

You draw your hips back, against the constricting hold Tzuyu has on you—both physically and mentally. Her hands are all over you—gripped on your nape, on your skull, roaming your back. She’s holding on you so tight; she needs you more than oxygen right now.

Slowly but surely, you push back in, pumping her cunt in deliberate, purpose filled strokes. She moans, reduced to merely a string of profanity-laced bursts. Pressing your temple against hers, you admire how undeniably pretty she looks, even when you have her pinned like this. It goes without saying that Tzuyu is an absolute beauty, a goddess made human, and how fortunate you are to sully and defile her.

It’s the perfect sight for sore eyes, an idyllic escape from the fiery sensation in your stomach.

“So—so gorgeous, Tzu—” you mutter, leaving a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, your moans going back and forth, perfectly paced with your hips rocking against hers. You’ve never felt this uniform, this perfect together. “So fucking wet—and tight—”

She’s far too engrossed in pleasure to move, let alone say a word. You can feel the kick from her thighs, their coil around your waist, demanding more. Faster. Harder. Without the need to vocalize them. As comfortable as you are, your primal instincts are encouraging you, pushing you to take her the way she should be used.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard now,” you tell her as courtesy, moving through with the deed regardless of her response. She nods. Whether it’s from the persistent quake of the bed or a voluntary act, it doesn’t matter. You’re only focused on drawing out the most ecstasy in fucking her.

The fuse has already been lit the moment you first entered her; you’re just accelerating the countdown.

“Yes—fucking—oh my fucking—” you groan, the piston of your hips moving quicker and quicker with each thrust. The way her pussy quivers and flexes around your cock is so devastating, it’s burning through your skin. Your mind is in utter disarray, unable to fully comprehend the tightness consuming you. It’s going to pull you further and further down without a way to escape. You can only drag Tzuyu down too.

You’re crushing her, smothering her in your desperate attempt to stay in control. She’s doing everything in her power to shatter you, and it’s messing you up. She continues to moan in broken, jumbled tones, pulling you close to her with each pump, meeting halfway in a rhythm that hits the spot.

“Just like that—just like that—mm—” Tzuyu keens. How she can make even the littlest words sound so saccharine and sincere is beyond you. The way she takes your relentless pounding is a feat worth admiring. It’s the least of your concerns right now, especially when she continues to lead you further to your collapse. “Almost there—just keep fucking me.”

As if you had any other thought or option. That, or pulling down the strap of her skimpy crop top, exposing a breast, watching it ripple.

Her hair tangled around your waist, you keep fucking away. Stopping is the last thing you’d ever want to do, especially since you’re close too. The friction between your skin and hers is growing too unbearable, and yet the satisfying ripple of flesh slapping flesh supersedes that. There’s nothing sinful in what you’re doing, only something right.

“Please baby—never stop—stretching me out like this—” she mewls, her nails digging deep into your back, tilting your face and leading you into a passionate kiss. “Cumming for you—oh shit—”

Tzuyu clenches, kissing into you harder as her body comes undone from head to toe. Every nerve, every muscle going limp as she cums. She moans directly into your skin, freezing, her legs and arms coiled around your body as a wave of her slick spills all around your hard cock, landing on the sheets.

It’s the perfect time to get dragged by her wave of pleasure. You weren’t going to last any longer at this rate. “Tzu—” is the only thing that you manage to utter, before it completely falls apart.

Against the last of your resolve, your grip gradually loosens. Straining your hips, you thrust forward a handful of times, each one more and more agonizing till you finally reach the boiling point. Your cock throbs violently as you pump deep in her pussy, even as her legs collapse on the bed, because anything else would be a disservice to her unspoken demand. You’re groaning raspily against her ear, holding onto her even though she can’t move.

You fill her. Releasing every pent-up need and tension, your bodies go numb together. Her cunt squeezes every last drop of cum out of you. Tzuyu won’t settle for less. You’re repeating her name as your orgasm persists, the agony of blasting streak after streak seemingly unending. Your hips continue to fuck the cum deep into her pussy, gradually slowling by the second until you come to a full stop.

In the end, the only thing that remains are your labored breaths.

You clamp down on her collarbone before your consciousness eventually drifts away. This is the position you end up in for the rest of the night: you slumped over Tzuyu, arms wrapped over each other, drenched in sweat and sex.

At least she has the warmest blanket to cover her from the cold.

—————

As morning comes, you’ve spent more time inside Tzuyu than anywhere else—as it should be.

“You sure you don’t wanna go anywhere?” she asks, showing you her phone with a picture of a hot spring, one of many in the country. “We could use it before going back.”

“I’m good,” you say, looking up at Tzuyu, her lithe figure leisurely bouncing on your lap, eliciting these soft, airy moans out of you between thrusts. You’ve been mindlessly admiring her perfect body, your hands roaming at her waist, to her chest, then her ass, finally back to her waist again. “Maybe if you want, just go yourself. I just wanna sleep.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy” she replies, tilting her head down to meet you eye-to-eye. “After what we’ve done, you just wanna sit back? You’re really a pervert, you know that?”

“Still calling me that? After I fucked your brains out?”

“Just because you fucked me so well doesn’t change anything before that, pervert.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

Tzuyu places the phone on the end table before brushing your hair. She has this contemptuous look, her frustration bubbling to the surface. If she were any less patient, she could probably end you in an instant—

Except you both laugh, breaking the so-called tense silence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m also tired too,” she remarks, finding purchase of your face, then your chest. She stops grinding on you to lay on your head instead. “We could spend the whole day here, just ordering delivery. I wouldn’t mind.”

As entertaining of an idea as it sounds, the initial proposition gradually sinks in. You imagine the scene: a hot spring. Being one with nature. Some much needed relief for your muscles. More importantly, another excuse to see Tzuyu naked, even though she’s in nothing but a short robe right now.

Better yet, there’s a shower you can take her in, but she’s worn you out to the point of hardly moving.

“Tzu?” you mumble, caressing her covered back, cuddling her.

“Yeah?”

“I changed my mind. Let’s go to the hot springs.”

Even without looking, you can feel her annoyance. You can already envision the scorn on her features. She realizes she has made a huge mistake.

This is only the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

“You’re the worst boyfriend.”

“Worst? I thought we were just pretending.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

—————

(A/N: Was thoroughly surprised Tzuyu was the third Twice member to get her solo! Came out of nowhere, fun little title track. Giving me early Sunmi/2nd gen vibes. Didn't really think much of her but the styling for the promos really caught me by the throat. Also shoutout to ddeun for writing and posting an earlier fic with a similar premise and concept as this one (OC x idol meeting the parents), especially as it features best girl Yena. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #twice #tzuyu

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pedriscroquettes · 2 months ago

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𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ꕥ MAX VERSTAPPEN

summary. celebrating max’s 4th title was not in your plans.

warnings. piastri!reader, max is kinda obsessed with reader, public s3x (?), unprotected pinv, fingering, just straight up dirty.

gabri speaks! i’ve been thinking about mexico gp max and las vegas sealed the deal for me.

THERE’S A BRIEF moment of silence, of anticipation, and of complete confusion. The DJ had paused the setlist less than an hour in announcing there was a special guest appearance. Then as if on cue tonight’s race is plastered on the giant screen behind him and the words, “Max Verstappen,” echo throughout the nightclub. You resist the urge to roll your eyes knowing someone might be recording you, or your brother at least.

“I thought he was flying back?” You cover your mouth with your hand as you talk with your brother.

“I thought so too.” Your brother hums in your ear trying to hide his annoyed tone. Your brother got along with Max just fine but all he wanted was one night without F1 getting mentioned.

You on the other hand…

You’d only been in the paddock a handful of times but every race weekend you had managed to have the worst encounter with the dutch man. The first time had been incidentally, you faintly recall the energy drink splashing all over your new dress. You knew from the get go that it had been an accident but when Max didn’t as so much as a muster a quick sorry and instead went on his way you had no choice but to hate him.

“He’s such a dick.” You murmur to yourself unaware your brother catches your words.

“Be nice.” Oscar motions towards the countless people recording him.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You sigh.

The music resumes and you find yourself into a crowd of dancing couples. Your short orange dress sticks to you as you walk towards the bar. It’d been a long night with your brother not getting the result he hoped for. The post race recap inside the garage had been brutal as well. You had watched as the championship slipped from Lando’s hands and Max claimed victory once again. It had been the worst two hours of your life to say the least. You’re way too frustrated to even notice the man approaching you. In a split second you’re covered in something that smelled similar to…

“Asshole.” You mumble.

“Mini Piastri?” He gasps dramatically. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think you’d be celebrating after tonight.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You scoff. “Does it Max?”

“I’d argue that it does actually. Considering your mood, you’d be happier if your little boyfriend had actually managed to have a good race.” He taunts you.

“Look, can you get out of my way? I have to go clean up the mess you made.” You point towards the huge spots of alcohol on your dress.

You don’t even wait for him to respond before pushing past him, brushing shoulders in the process, to head straight to the bathroom. You do your best to dodge those who already have had a bit too much to drink, unaware that the dutchman is right behind you. It’s not until you’re opening the door and notice it takes a minute too long to close that you turn around and spot him. His white dress shirt is already half unbuttoned while his hair is a mess. You stare at him incredulously as he leaned against the sink.

“Max, you can’t be in here.” You state bluntly.

“I don’t recall you telling Lando to piss off when he followed you into the bathroom in Austin.” He counters.

“How do- What?” You’re taken aback by his words. How did he know?

He ignores your question choosing to walk towards you instead. You’re now face to face with the man that had taken away your team’s championship. His eye bags are dark and you can tell it’s been a while since he’s gotten a good needed break. His tousled hair falls perfectly on his head and by the way his arms flex you can tell he’s been putting extra effort into them at the gym. All of a sudden you’re nervous to be under his glare.

“Does your brother know what you and Lando do in secret?” He questions.

“You should leave.” You try to sound confident but your faltering voice exposes you.

Max just smirks at your words knowing he was getting under your skin. He still recalls the first time he ran into you, when he spilled half a can of red bull on you. He doesn’t know why he didn’t apologize but when he saw the anger in your face he realized why. You had looked so beautiful that day with the short orange sundress that did nothing to hide your cleavage. He still remembers the disappointment he felt when he saw you and Lando walk out of the restroom all disheveled. So, when he beat Lando tonight he felt absolutely no remorse.

His lips ghost yours for what feels like an eternity. You’re frozen in place wondering how his lips would taste against yours. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way his arms flex around you but suddenly you needed to know what he felt like. His arm tentatively grazes yours as it sneaks down to your knees. A gasp finds itself leaving your lips as your legs spread open instinctively. He wants to make fun of you, of the way you melt under him so easily, but he knows better. He can’t risk ruining the moment. It’s when Max inches his fingers closer to your thighs that you suddenly realize what’s happening. In a matter of seconds you push him off you and head out the door.

You’re barely four steps out when Max yanks you back and you hit his built chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate and grabs your jaw pulling your face towards his. Your lips meet in a heated kiss as his arms find their way around your waist. This time you’re the one that moves his hands from your wait to your ass. The confidence was beginning to build up and soon enough you’re tugging on his hair as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Max…” You moan and somehow it becomes the indicator that you want this. That you want him.

He pushes you flat against the cold brick of the hallway, the dimmed lights helping hide your bodies from the crowd. You’re lucky he holds you up because your legs feel like jello and if he lets go you might lose your balance. His hands roam your waist, back, and neck before he moves your hair out of the way. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses around your neck as his hands work their way down to your legs. They slowly glide up until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress. You can already feel his growing erection press against your ass.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans against your ear.

You really want to tell him to fuck off but your body reacts differently. You’re shocked when instead of telling him to call it a night all you murmur is keep going. In a matter of seconds your dress is being pulled up towards your waist. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he rubs your aching core through your panties.

“So wet already.” He groans. “For me or Lando?”

“Shut up.” You still find it in you to annoy him.

To your surprise he doesn’t hit you with another remark. Max had been an asshole to you long enough. Now, that you were in front of him practically falling apart he didn’t want to ruin the moment. There’s a brief moment of silence before his hand carefully moves your panties to the side exposing your core to the cool breeze. Your legs spread instinctively as his fingers tempt your folds. His fingers collect your slick as he explores you, the wet sound making him groan against you. Slowly, he brings one of his fingers to your hole entering it carefully.

“Fuck.” He moans against your ear as your cunt wraps tightly around his finger.

“Ma- Max. So close.” You’re barely able to say.

You let out a loud whine as he curls his finger inside of you leading to your climax. You come around his fingers as you coat them with your wetness. His fingers slowly move toward your mouth and you don’t hesitate as you take them into your mouth, tasting yourself. He almost comes undone as you lick his fingers seductively. Aggressively he grabs your jaw and kisses you. He groans as he tastes you.

You feel the tip of him first as he runs it up and down your folds teasing you. Your hands are weak against the wall as his tip approaches your aching hole. He enters you slowly, holding you tightly in the process. He stops halfway through not wanting to hurt you but when he hears your dirty moans he continues. Your nails dig tightly into his arms as he fills you up completely. He’s quite big and the new sensation has you spiraling trying your best to not fall against him. He takes advantage of your weakness and attacks your neck again making sure to leave love bites around your collarbone.

“Fuck, Max. You’re so big.” You whine without thinking.

You feel his dick twitch inside you at that. Your voice has him in a trance as he tries his best to not just start thrusting inside of you. It’s not until you start pushing your ass against him that he almost pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. His hands grip your ass tightly—surely leaving marks for tomorrow—as your cunt squeezes him. He’s never felt such a thrill, at least since Abu Dhabi, you were your own feeling. He couldn’t believe you had finally opened up to him in many ways you were way better than winning another trophy. Many curses escape your lips as he finds the perfect pace inside of you.

He manages to bend you over leading to the perfect position and somehow he’s even deeper inside of you. He grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he speeds up inside of you. His hand trails back to your cunt and slowly he starts playing with your folds. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your folds is intense and you find a camisole feeling in your stomach approach you. You squeeze him tightly as his dick hits the right spot and you find yourself coming undone. You’ve never had an orgasm so intense in your life you don’t even notice how you coat his dick with your wetness.

Max isn’t far behind and speeds up at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly. Your nails dig behind you at the overstimulation and stretch of his cock. Max hisses at the sensation finding it the tipping point. It’s not long before you feel his dick twitch inside of you and in a matter of seconds you feel him spill his seed inside of you. He grunts as he empties himself and as he pulls out. He pulls you up adjusting your dress in the process.

You bite your lip as he zips up his pants. The aftermath of your little rendezvous is different. Usually with others you don’t stay long enough to watch them dress themselves. But then you notice Max struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt and you find your hands on his chest again. You only button half of the shirt before stepping back. Neither of you say a word but the silence manages to speak for you both. You decide it’s time to go back but before you can take a step Max pulls you in for a final kiss before he leaves.

You’re barely able to walk back towards the VIP lounge and stumble multiple times in the process. You try your best to brush your hair down and fix your dress as you come closer to your brother’s booth. You sit down carefully unaware your brother is staring at you wide eyed and wondering why it took you almost an hour to get a drink. You shift awkwardly in your seat as Lily begins telling you both about her mixup at the airport. You turn around briefly as she goes into detail when you notice Max walking past your table. You keep your composure not wanting to expose your actions of the night but you should’ve known better. Oscar almost bursts out laughing at Max’s completely unbuttoned shirt.

“Lando’s gonna be pissed.” Your brother smirks.

“How do-” Did everyone know? “Oh, fuck off.”

The night progresses with your brother ordering countless bottles of Dom Pérignon. It’s almost five in the morning when Max takes the stage again with the DJ playing a remix of Super Max. As if on cue someone hands him a bottle of champagne and it doesn’t take long for him to start spraying it amongst those on the dance floor. You watch attentively as his chest shows the marks you left completely unaware of how your phone buzzes for the hundredth time that night.

9 missed calls from Lan

Lan: Tonight was shit.

Lan: Come over?

#this is a one time thing 🏃🏽‍♀️#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #gabri writes

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leadyoutothelight · 16 days ago

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Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

This wasn’t supposed to be your place in life, you were the second daughter, a spare given to the temple of Minerva to serve as one of the many temple maidens. But when your father comes to you, telling you of your sister’s sudden passing, suddenly you’re thrust into a new role. Expected to fill her place in a political marriage to the famed General Marcus Acacius Rome’s beloved war dog.

Rating: Explicit +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Dubious Consent/Coerced Consent, Age Gap (no specified ages), Virginity Loss *discomfort mentioned, no blood* , Implied physical abuse from a parent, Patriarchal world and expectations of women, Grinding, Unprotected p in v sex, reader is a virgin, first time sex *please let me know if I miss anything*

Word Count: 8k

Author Note: Hello, first time writing for a Pedro Pascal character, but finally saw Gladiator II and I couldn't resist writing this! Please note, there is very little research into Rome actually done, I'm not writing this based on historical accuracy, just had an idea and wanted to write it. The title is based off a common Roman wedding vow meaning, Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia.

Please let me know what you think!

Your sister is dead, you shall be the one to marry General Acacius.

It had been the most your father had ever spoken to you in your entire life, the most he’d even looked at you.

Being born the second daughter of a noble family is about as important as a new pair of sandals. Especially when you were the last born of five, and three of the five being boys. Your father was more than happy to direct his attention to his sons and his wars. Your sister and yourself were content to live in the house learning from your mother, waiting for the day your father drafted a marriage contract and sent you to a new household.

Until it was decided that in a bid to gain the gods favor you were given to the temple of Minerva as a temple maiden, at ten you were bundled up with your few worldly items and left to the Priestess' devices.

It was a sudden and chaotic change. But after the first year you found, you didn’t mind this new living arrangement. Yes, you had chores now, and you needed to share things. But you grew to like your new home with other women and girls working in the temple. Learning the day-to-day needs, and expectations of your new home. You flourished, and your mother and sister visiting every now and again helped you settle as well.

The last time you’d seen your sister she’d been an excited mess talking the whole time of her engagement to General Acacius, that they’d be wed as soon as he’d returned home from another conquest.

“Just think sissy, me, a famed general’s wife!”

Her eyes glowed in the lamplight as she’d clutched your hands in hers. You’d given her a smile and a nod, as she went on and on. Whilst you’d thought to yourself that you’d be stuck cleaning the temple floors for the next week due to staying out longer than allowed.

“You’ll be there right?”

Her question pulls you out of your glum thoughts, and you give her a wide eye-scrunching smile. You don’t have the heart to disappoint, maybe with your father’s status you can ask for the time…

A pain twinges through you at the thought, the high priestess had been kind, giving you the time in exchange for you doing more chores when you returned.

But today, a day you expected your sister to visit, with her finished bridal veil in tow. You expected to ‘oh’ and ‘aw’ over her hard work, compliment her delicate needlework, ask her jokingly which parts your mother had helped with. To comfort her, she’d mentioned fainting spells had started since the date had been announced.

Maybe you’d even offer to bring her into the inner sanctum to ask the goddess to protect her, and her future husband. To give her calm in the coming ‘battle’ of marriage.

But now you sit across from your father. A beast of a man, skin tanned and leathered from the sun. Scars criss-cross along his arms, you resist the urge to glance at his left pinky. Where only a ghastly stump sits.

His voice brokers no argument, yet, you can’t stop yourself.

“What do you mean?”

He blinks, those dark eyes boring into you, and you see a flash of anger, mixed with surprise. Again, your existence has been a fleeting one in your father’s opinion. He was the one who sent you here…he was the one who gave you to the gods. He can’t just–take you back.

“I wasn’t aware you were an imbecile–”

“I’m not, but you cannot take me from the temple–from Minerva herself–”

“I have made the appropriate tithes and the priestess herself has granted your hand–”

“I am to serve the goddess, that is what you–”

“And now you shall serve the family!” It’s the way he stands, the clatter of the chair he once occupied. The roar of his voice, the one you know he uses to order his troops into battle with. You cower, well aware that this rage is one you don’t survive.

Tears brim over your lashes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from arguing further, here in the temple, you are free to share your opinions. Voice concerns, even vent frustrations, rare luxuries in this male dominated society. You’ve found you enjoy the thrill of conversing, and theology the other maidens and priestesses provide.

But now, that’s all being taken, when you’re so close to the priesthood. To take the sacred robes of Minerva, learn the sacred rights. Bless soldiers, generals, and emperors in their great conquests for the Roman Empire.

That was your purpose, your place in this world. Being born a woman was a curse in this empire, but here you were safe, here you could make a life.

“You shall be collected in the morning, the wedding will take place in a week's time.”

That tone again. One brokering no peace, no argument. The voice he commands thousands with, and you are one of them.

The next morning passes in a blur, your few things taken by slaves. You’re barely given enough time to hug the girls, and women you’ve come to see as your new family. Careful to hide your tears as the High Priestess stops you outside the temple doors.

“Go with Minerva’s blessing,” her voice is soft, though there is an edge to it. You don’t respond, for fear that you’ll fall to your knees and beg her to stop this. Claim Minerva’s hold over you, refuse your father’s demands.

But she won’t, your father is a powerful man, marrying you to another powerful man, and not even the goddess of war can prevent it.

You’re whisked away on a chariot handled by one of your father’s trusted soldiers. A clear warning to behave, the city passes by. A few of the bustling crowds pause to watch you entourage, but it’s fleeting, they return to their day-to-day lives as it's nothing new to see a noble pass in their gilded transports.

A blink and you’re home. The home you hadn’t seen in years, still a marbled behemoth, a villa of luxury befitting one of Rome’s finest generals. The sandstone pillars glow in the mid-afternoon sun. Banners the color of blood mark the door, along with coal black braziers that will be lit when the sun disappears behind the mountains.

Awaiting you is a group of slaves, heads bowed, they drop to kneel as you are escorted from the chariot and into the house.

It’s barely changed, since you last ran about the halls, as a wild precocious child. Tripping over your feet to follow your older brothers. The large atrium, with a lapis lazuli lined pool. Filled with various plants your father brought home to your mother. More braziers and torches line the halls.

Gold, and weapons decorate the walls, all of them spoils of war taken by your father. Silk curtains billow in the afternoon wind, and distantly you smell the incense your mother uses throughout the villa.

Your sister used to smell of it, well, the incense and rose water. A pang ricochets through your chest. Her voice doesn’t greet you, and you’ll never hear it again. Instead it’s the rush of silks, and the patter of feet, and your mother enters the atrium, in the warm glow of the sun she shines.

Dark hair in tight ringlets cascading down her back, her eyes shine with unshed tears. She stops seeing you in the entrance, then her arms spread wide, and like a child you rush into them.

She smells of her personal fragrance of jasmine, and cinnamon. The mixture your father had gifted her after a long campaign many years ago. She buries her nose into your hair, fingers threading through the tresses. She presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head.

“Mama,” you whimper into her bosom, and she shushes you. Pulling back, her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing against the apples of your cheeks.

“Well, not the way I expected my beloved child to return to me but,” another kiss is pressed to your forehead. Her lips are soft and warm, tears well and threaten to spill a lump gathers in the back of your throat. “I am grateful to have some time with you again.”

For a moment, you’re grateful for the reprieve as well. But it’s short lived. She ushers you into the house, into her personal chambers. Where she sits you on the lounge, it’s darker here. Not as many windows, and most of them blocked by curtains.

The incense is thicker here, and you stifle a cough as you settle into the dimness with her.

“Oh my dear one, how I’ve missed you.” She smiles, and again her eyes take you in. Just as you do her, she’s aged in the years you’ve been gone. Where once was smooth skin, you see wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. The creases of her lips, a few grey hairs decorate her dark curls.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t under…better circumstances.” You mutter, fingers toying with the robes you had left in. They’re still the temple robes, a simple woven woolen tunic. Good for completing chores, and easy to move in.

Not like her opulent robes, her pure white muslin, with a deep blue dyed sash. A golden belt cinching in her waist. Her smile falters, a look of pain crosses her expression.

“Y–your sister fought hard against the sweating sickness,” her voice wavers, and tears spill over her lashes, smudging the kohl lining her eyes. “But, she has been given her last rights, and she rests now in Elysium.”

You nod, your chin quivers, as your own tears rain down from your eyes. Your mother tuts, and leans forward her hands warm and soft, unlike your now calloused fingers and palms.

“She would not want us to mourn–”

“But Mama, she wanted this,” you gesture to the room of grandeur around you. Feeling your mother’s gaze watching you as you struggle with your next words, “I was promised to Minerva–to the gods!”

You stand beginning to pace as you consider everything, and are finally able to do so.

“She should be here, I should be at the temple, learning the rites, blessing soldiers–”

“My darling you’re here now,” your mother’s voice is firm, a tone you recognize as her warning, and just like your father you know she’s not going to entertain you abandoning this marriage. “Come.”

She offers you a bedecked hand, rings, and bangles gleaming against her skin. All the finery a woman could want. Sullenly you take her hand as she pulls you beside her, her hands take yours in a solid grip.

“Your sister’s passing was a tragedy, but the gods have smiled upon us, in that Acacius is willing to continue the betrothal with you,” her voice is soft, you stare at your clasped hands. She’d done this before, when you’d first been promised to the Temple of Minerva.

How strange to be here again, a child begging her mother to see reason and send you back. She pulls your hands up to her lips, pressing a warm kiss to them, as more tears spill from your eyes. Rolling warm, and wet down your cheeks.

“I don’t want to marry him Mama,” a soft sob leaves you, and you bury your face into her shoulder, losing yourself in her smell once more, you forget how much you’ve missed her. Missed this, just being with her, but there’s a hollow feeling inside of you, your sister should be here, and that makes more tears form. Another tut and her arms wrap around you, a hand goes to your cheek, another to your back. “I was happy at the Temple.”

She hums low in her throat, the hand on your back rubbing soothing circles against your spine. She is warm, and solid, a soothing presence and she lets you weep. You don’t know how long you cry for but finally the hiccuping sobs ebb and you calm.

She pulls back her hands returning to your cheeks as she takes in your red eyes, and tear-streaked face.

“My love, I will say this to you, I understand more than you know,” she brushes a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, curling the wayward pieces behind your ear. “I know the fear of marrying a man, much less a military man.”

You sniffle as she gives you a weak smile. “I swore to the gods, I would never commit the sin of marrying one of my girls to someone like their father.”

She pulls back, her hands resting on her lap, your tears have dried and you sigh, nodding, face downcast as you consider her words.

“I swear my love, I know your sister dreamed of love, and of a grand marriage, I assure you that General Acacius is a good man,” her fingers lift your chin and your eyes meet, she gives you a final wistful smile, “it may not be a marriage of love, but…maybe it can be a marriage of equals.”

The next week passes in a blur, and suddenly it’s the hour before your wedding. The final adjustments to your sister's dress are being made. You stand alone, a slave placing pins in the areas the garment might drag.

Silently staring at the reflection in the copper before you. You don’t recognize the girl in the reflection. Your hair has been styled in the traditional bridal braids. A golden hairnet pinned against your scalp, a few strands have managed to escape. Make up paints your skin, mica shimmers on your eyelids, kohl darkening your waterline.

The slave pauses in her adjustments, she glances up with a fearful look.

“M–my lady, I’ve run out of pins–”

A spark of your father’s rage courses through you, of course it doesn’t fit you it was meant for your sister.

“Go fetch some then!”

You don’t mean to snap but your nerves are shot as it is. She jumps and with a fearful bow leaves the room. Alone you slump, staring at yourself, unwilling to keep staring at the stranger before you. Your sister truly spared no detail, the embroidery along the edges is her finest work. With golden thread painstakingly sewn into the edges, when it catches the light it almost seems to glow like fire. The main shawl dyed a deep burgundy, is decorated with words of protection, along with her favorite flowers, pale lilies blooming along the skirt.

I want him to think me a goddess made flesh.

You hear her in the back of your mind, and wonder…if you should have admonished her. Maybe her vanity was her downfall, and the gods sought to correct her error. Tears spring to your eyes at the thought, no, they couldn’t have.

She was good, and kind; her only wish was to marry and give her husband strong sons. Now she lays alone, and cold in the family crypts.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud chorus of calls from the atrium.

You hear it somewhere below, the revels have begun. The boisterous voice of your father as he jokes and cajoles with his old war fellows. The wine is flowing freely tonight, he has much to celebrate.

“-it’s a good thing you had another one!”

A laugh from your father as he claps someone on the back.

“Ha! The only thing a second daughter is good for!”

The rage sparks again, and before you can stop to think, you’re grabbing a jar of perfumed oil. Throwing it with a shriek, it lands with a satisfying shatter against the copper mirror. The thick liquid drips to the floor in a dark puddle on the sandstone.

Your outburst has called attention to the crowd, a few moments of silence and your mother appears with the slave who left you. She gives a withering glare to the woman, who cowers, before turning her gaze to you. You clench your fist ready to fight, the rage in you growing, daring your mother to say something, anything.

“My love–” there is no time to admonish you, as a great rushing of horses and the wheels of a chariot sound, along with calls from the atrium.

He's here.

Before you can think your mother and the slave rush to finish the last minute adjustments, and finally the fine veil is placed over your head. You're dragged through the halls, almost tripping on the skirt, that’s still too long for your legs.

Your sister’s belt is cinched so tight it cuts into the soft fat of your stomach, at least an old pair of your sandals fits, one of the only things of yours on you tonight. Your mother stops you just outside the atrium. The crowd is rowdy, the sweet smell of wine, the smokey herbs of the many roasted beasts, and finally the mixture of the florals from the many bundles of your sister’s favorite flowers fills your nose.

It’s beautiful, and your sister would have been beaming. You feel your stomach churn, your mother’s fingers rub soothingly along your arm, but it doesn’t quell the fear to run, the deer forced into the hunter’s trap.

You don’t want to, but your eyes search the crowd, none of your brothers are in attendance. Your mother mentioned that all had been called away to far reaches of the Empire, one a rising commander in his own right. Another a promising scholar in Alexandria, and the last is a Senator, most likely schmoozing with the twin emperors to gain more political favor.

Of course none of them felt it dire to come to their younger sister’s funeral, and the other’s marriage. You’re not surprised…though maybe a bit hurt, after all…they should have at least come home to give your sister her last rights. But even that is too pitiful a request compared to their great lives.

There are others here, all your father’s friends, and their wives, entertaining themselves with food and drink. Dressed in the finery expected for nobility, none of them take your attention for too long.

You see your father speaking animatedly with someone you don’t recognize. He wears the traditional Generals uniform, the armor a pitch black, with the extravagant golden embellishments. A long red cape, fastened at his shoulder, you almost wonder if the man came straight from campaign.

Then again…the twin emperors have been insistent that their empire grow, and the General has been the ever faithful war dog. You’d never met him in person, only the high Priestess of Minerva could bless the generals before a campaign.

You are loath to admit it, but he's handsome. In a rugged way, a strong jaw, full lips, a proud nose, with tanned skin. His beard is shorter but well kept, and his hair, was probably once a deep brown, has greyed and silvered with age, is kept in neat curls.

His eyes remain on your father, but as if the gods enjoy your torment, seem to feel your gaze upon him. He turns, and those eyes the color of polished mahogany lance through you.

For a moment you forget to breathe, forget to think. Those eyes take you in, just as you had done moments ago. But it’s short lived as your father spots you, and your mother.

“Ah! Acacius, your bride arrives!” He leaves the General to come usher you over, you’re grateful for the veil, the fabric is thick enough it hides your face, so he can’t see your face very well, can’t see the panicked look in your eyes, as your father yanks you from your mother’s protective grasp.

You want to reach out to her, to claw your way back, scream, dig your fingers into his eyes till he releases you, but resist. As he pushes you to the General, up close he’s nothing like you thought. He bows his head to you with a soft, “my Lady.”

You respond in kind with a low bow and a muttered, “my Lord.”

And with that the ceremony begins, with Acacius taking his place besides the officiant. One of your father’s many senatorial friends.

Your father’s grip is a painful shackle around your wrist, the stump of his left pinky digs into your arm.

“You will do well to make him happy girl,” he snarls beneath the music, his gaze burning a hole into the side of your skull. “It’s because of me, he accepted you, remember that.”

You bite your cheek, the taste of copper filling your mouth as you ignore the remark, in favor of staring at the man who will take his place.

The ceremony is short, the officiant stumbles over your name, as he clearly practiced for your sister’s name. It makes the ache in your chest grow, through the ceremony you feel the General’s gaze upon you as the final call for the gods to bless your union is made.

“General, you may now reveal your bride, and take her to your home as is commanded by the gods.”

Your heart has leapt from your chest to your throat as his hands take the veil and lift, revealing your face to him.

Your eyes meet his, and he stares silently at you, those dark eyes taking you in, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. His lips are soft, the rasp of his beard against your skin sending a chill down your spine. The kiss is quick, emotionless, before pulling away, he glances to the side, you follow his gaze. Your mother stands beside your father, tears stream down her face, and your heart breaks seeing her in such despair.

“Take a moment with your family, I will collect you in a moment.”

You don’t waste a second rushing away from him to your mother’s arms, she collects you with a soft sob. You can’t help the tears that spring forth.

“My love, my dear,” she weeps into your hair, and you cling to her, a little girl once more. Afraid of your father’s anger had you broken something, or worse he had come home from a failed campaign, and no one would be spared from his rage.

She would be alone after this, alone with only your father for company, and he barely stayed home long enough to acknowledge her. She presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Please…Mama, please,” a whimpered plea into her bosom, where your tears stain the silk, you look up to her eyes wide and terrified. “Don’t let him take me.”

Her lower lip quivers, and more tears spill from her beautiful eyes, she shakes her head, her answer, and it cleaves your heart into two. She can’t stop this, no matter how much you beg, plead, all she could do was make sure he was a good man. You feel it then, Acacius’ arms wrap around your middle, the shriek that leaves you is animalistic, your fingers claw into your mother’s dress.

“No! Mama! No!” It only takes one pull from Acacius for your mother to release you, your fingers pulled from her dress by your father. So you go to the next best thing, his arms, nails dig into skin. He grunts, the only sign of his pain, as he hauls you away from your mother who wails in chorus with your panicked shrieks.

Your mother collapses, her palms slapping against the marbled floors in grief, your father just stands there, no better than a statue. No one will comfort your mother tonight…though you hope, somehow your sister will. That her spirit will curl about your mother’s form and give her rest.

Or maybe she’ll spare you the horrors of the wedding night, but as you struggle uselessly against Acacius you know neither of those things will happen. As he drags you from the atrium to his chariot. You struggle, scream, and cry a final plea to Minerva to intervene.

But alas she does not answer, and you're dragged from the safety of your mother’s arms and to Acacius’ villa where your wedding night awaits.

It’s quiet in the spacious bedchamber, as you consider the marble flooring beneath your feet. Acacius hasn’t appeared since he placed you here. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you’ve ripped the veil and golden hairnet off. Your hair remains in its painful tangle of braids, you’re unsure of how to get them out without help.

You take in the room around you, and from what you could see of Acacius’ villa like you thought it’s a luxurious home, maybe even greater than your father’s.

You take in the fineries here, golden chairs and marble-topped tables. The fires of the braziers warm the room comfortably, and a soft breeze from the outside keeps the air fresh. The light of the fires gleam off the cups, and decanters of wine placed about the room, even the bed silks are a fine fabric you’ve never felt before. You absentmindedly run your hand over the softness, considering your options. The bed is pushed to the farthest wall, a behemoth of dark wood, and fine muslin curtains.

Large windows line the eastern wall, to let in the light of the morning, and doors lead to what you can only assume is a terrace. Your legs twitch as you consider rushing to the doors, seeing how far the drop is, escaping into the night, the General none-the-wiser.

But the idea is foolish, he’s a General with thousands at his beck and call, you are a noble girl, raised in the halls of a temple…You’d get no further than the city gates if you’re lucky.

Your thoughts are interrupted as the sounds of footsteps echo into your silence. Your head snaps to the noise, a deer suddenly aware of the danger lurking somewhere in the trees.

He stands in the doorway, orange light of the fires play over his face, his eyes black pits, face unreadable. Your heart stutters in your chest, as you both consider each other.

He’s removed his armor, though it does nothing to soothe you, he still stands with the rigidity of a military man. Prepared for battle should he need to be. You consider fighting him, but it’s a laughable idea.

He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he so dared, but he hasn’t moved closer. So you both remain silent, observing.

It is a tense standoff, both of you sizing the other up, Acacius makes the first move. Taking a chair and settling into it with an exhausted huff.

You tense, watching him as he takes a cup and decanter, pouring a healthy swig of wine, before drinking deeply. He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees, his fingertips trace the rim of his cup.

“I am pleased to see you haven’t run yet,” he gives a humorless chuckle, and takes another drink. “I will say, this is not how I expected my wedding night to go.”

You remain silent, waiting for his next move, he doesn’t say anything for a moment staring into the cup with a pensive look.

“Those braids look uncomfortable,” those umber eyes meet your gaze. You can’t find your voice, so you nod. He sets the cup aside and stands, you can’t help your gaze falling to his exposed legs. The bunching of his muscles beneath his skin, the subtle strength there as he approaches you, a subtle grace to his movements that years of swordplay, and war-making has refined. The glow of his skin in the firelight, paints golden highlights along his flesh.

A clearing of his throat stops your exploration, your gaze snaps up to Acacius, he gives you a small gesture to turn around. Tense you follow his directions, a moment of indecision, before the softest touch against your scalp.

You can’t stop the yelp that leaves you, and the jolt of your body. The touch leaves, and there is a sigh through his nose. You wince, awaiting the strike that’s sure to come.

Acacius surprises you again, a hand cups your chin and turns you to face him. You’re shivering, and fearfully you look up at the General.

“I–I’m sorry–”

“I promise, I will not strike you my Lady, I just want to unbraid your hair.” His hand is warm, his fingers large, and his palm is rough with calluses from holding a sword. You try not to notice how his hand easily encompasses your lower jaw. You nod, and again turn away.

This time when his touch returns you steady yourself. For such large fingers, you’re surprised at their delicate caresses. As he finds the pins, and ties that keep your bridal braids in place. Slowly the pain of the too tight braids are relieved.

His touch is gentle, the final braid is undone and he takes a moment to card his fingers through your tresses. A ripple of something courses through you, goosebumps alight along your skin. He chuckles, you finally find your voice.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

He doesn’t answer, instead you feel the brush of his knuckles against your cheek, again you jolt away.

You know what must be done tonight, but you had hoped, and prayed, that he’d busy himself with his something, anything else. That you’d be forgotten and left to your own devices for the night. Acacius sighs through his nose, disappointment clear in his tone.

“It is our wedding night—”

“I know my Lord–”

“I do not wish to force you.”

The statement silences you, your heart pounding in its cage as you clench your fists in your lap.

“My Lord Acacius please–”

“My Lady,” he kneels beside you, one of his hands easily encasing both of yours. You resist every urge in your body to pull away from him, to scream, shout that you won’t allow him near you. “Your father told me, he would visit in the morning, to assure his daughter had done her duty.”

You will give him this, he looks disgusted at the prospect, those full lips pulled into a grimace as he considers you. You glance down at his hand over yours, before meeting his gaze again.

“Lord Acacius please, I was given as a child to the Temple of Minerva, I have no…no sense of the things required of a wife.”

You press forward, one of your hands leaving the captivity of his to cover it. He seems surprised at the touch, glancing down at your hand before meeting your gaze again. His eyes are beautiful, and considering him for a moment, you recall your sister’s voice.

He’s handsome sissy, you would agree.

You can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes, you do agree, he’s handsome. A part of you was jealous that she remained at home, with your mother. But after settling in the temple you knew this life would never be yours, and some small part of you…knows that hint of jealousy still lingers, somewhere deep in your mind. It would have grown a bit more seeing who she married today.

“You can learn–”

“I was given to Minerva,” you snap, a spike of your father’s rage, Acacius’ brows lift, a flash of surprise crosses his face. The hand beneath yours tensing.

“What’s done is done, and your father would sooner kill you then return you to the temple.”

His eyes darken and your shoulders slump, he’s well aware of your father’s reputation then. Well aware of the violence he so easily wielded even when not in battle.

“But you could return me–”

“I do not intend to.”

That statement leaves you bewildered, and scrambling to come up with something, anything for him to change his mind. He leans forward, in the glow of the braziers he looks otherworldly, and you can’t find your voice.

“I swear to you, I shall be a devoted husband, and I am willing to give you liberties in this union,” you consider silently, gaze going from his eyes and to his lips, “I cannot give you all the freedoms priesthood promises, but you will want for nothing.”

You bite your cheek, searching his umber eyes for any hint of a lie. His other hand comes up once more to cup your cheek. This time you do not flinch from his touch.

“I can make it pleasurable for you,” heat rises to your face as his thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “but this union must be consummated tonight, as the gods demand.”

The silence between both of you is thick, he’s right, you know he is. There is no way you will be able to return to the temple, it is either death or Acacius.

I swore to the gods, I would never commit the sin of marrying one of my girls to someone like their father.

Your mother’s words ring out in your mind, you close your eyes to stop the tears forming there, and nod.

“I need to hear you,” he whispers, he’s moved closer to your face, the warmth of his breath ghosts over your lips. “Please, my Lady.”

“I–I accept Lord Acacius, but–” you don’t know why it tumbles from your lips so freely, “but please, I don’t want it to hurt.”

His lips press to yours suddenly, your eyes snapping open at the touch. The kiss is quick, he moves on from your lips to your cheek, then jaw, ending at your neck.

You gasp as his tongue slips from between his lips, wetting the skin above your pulse. A heat rushes through you as his lips suck on the skin there, teeth nipping.

Your fingers turn to claws as they grasp at his tunic, his hands shift easily, one going to cup your head. The other around your waist pulling you against him. His lips continue their exploration of your neck, finding new bits of flesh that he attends to.

Pulling noises from you that surprise you, as a feeling courses through you, like you're hot and cold at the same time. You can feel your pulse between your legs, his mouth shifts further up your neck, Acacius pauses at your ear.

“As we are going to be husband and wife,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, his lips sending electric zaps along the cartilage. You shiver as his voice drops to a rasp, “please call me Marcus, can you do that?”

He nuzzles into the corner of your jaw, giving the skin another nip, a soft keen leaves you, as the nip sparks with a soft pain before dulling to a throb. As your fingers flex again in his tunic, unsure if you want to pull him closer or push you both apart.

He has to be doing something, must have given you something, for this–feeling, this sensation to be burning through you.

The hand at your waist is quick, fingers plucking at your sister’s belt, and it releases with a soft clink. The soft leather falls away, leaving your dress to sag, heat rises again to your cheeks and you squirm a moment.

Acacius’ hand in your hair tightens, and for a moment you fear you’ve angered him. But all he does is move lower, the tip of his nose trailing down your neck, along the path he created with his lips.

Marks of varying colors have bloomed across your skin, before stopping just above the cut of your bodice. Those deep brown eyes meet yours in silent question, you give a nod. The pulse between your thighs is growing.

He works quickly finding the folds of your dress that keep it around your shoulders and covering your breasts. The silk falls away, you move to cover yourself, only the other temple maidens, and the priestess’ had ever seen you naked.

Embarrassment fills you, should he see you, but Acacius is quick, his hands find your wrists. The short tussle sends you back onto the bed, Acacius hovering above you. He positions your hands beside your head. For a moment you consider fighting once more, thinking he intends you harm, but freeze as you see his eyes explore your newly exposed flesh. You can feel every touch of his gaze as he takes in the swell of them, your nipples pebbling in the sudden chill.

“M–Marcus–ah!”

Saying his name spurs him into his next move, his face descends and he presses a kiss to your sternum, then shifting to your right breast. The scrape of his beard on your skin sends flutters of pleasure through you.

A surprised moan leaves you as his lips find your nipple, pulling the hardening bud between them, sucking lightly your body convulses. Your eyes roll, the muscles of your abdomen clench, fingers twitch digging into his knuckles as he keeps them pinned. You gasp, back arching, pressing harder into his mouth. As if your body begs for more of the sensation.

“M–Marcus,” you whimper his name as his tongue swirls around the bud, and gives it another suck, toying with it gently between his teeth. “Marcus please!”

Your mind is becoming a fog, unsure of what you’ve begun to beg for, but the pulsing between your thighs has grown almost painful, and even as Acacius switches to your other breast giving the neglected bud the same attention.

You squirm, thighs pressing together, another soft moan leaves you as the pressure gives some relief. Acacius pauses in his attention to your breast, his eyes are changed, that umber brown swallowed by the dark of his pupil. He presses kisses to the swell of your breasts, before asking, “What do you need of me my Lady?”

You whine struggling to understand his question, as your thighs writhe, you bite your lip whimpering.

“You said it wouldn’t hurt–”

“Where does it hurt?” His reaction is quick, he returns to your face pressing a kiss to the underside of your chin. “Tell me.” His breath is warm, and smells of the sweet wine he indulged in before all this.

“B–Between–” it feels foolish to say it, to mention the heat between your legs, the strange throb that’s continued to grow since he began to touch you.

“Where?” he asks again, another soft kiss to your jaw.

“Between my legs,” you whine, the writhing of your thighs no longer offering the necessary relief. You feel feverish, unwell, your stomach tightening uncomfortably. Acacius huffs a laugh against your neck, he releases your hands trailing his fingers down your arms. Over your breasts, where he pauses a moment to toy with your nipples once more.

Your body reacts back bowing, pressing yourself into his palms, Acaius hums appreciatively, before his hands delve lower. Pushing down the rest of your sister’s wedding gown, you’re left bare to him.

Again the embarrassment of it floods you, but Acaius is quick to stop you, laying on his side, he pulls you against him, one hand cupping your hip, cradling it between his legs where something rubs against you, your other hand nestled between your bodies, the other splayed to the side finding purchase in the sheets.

Acacius pauses taking his bottom lip between his teeth whilst considering you.

“I promise this will make the pain go away,” he whispers against your cheek, and you nod, half mad with the overwhelming sensations devouring every coherent thought.

“Please.” You whine, and his hand slides between your legs, a noise leaves you that’s closer to a howl than anything. The rough pads of his fingers find your clit, two circle the bud slowly, teasingly. Before pinching it between them, your hips buck into his palm. He groans softly into your hair. Your fingers grasp at the sheets, the sudden onslaught of pleasure leaving you reeling in its wake.

Only a few garbled pleas, and his name can leave your lips, it’s all your mind can remember to say. As his fingers release your clit, and return to swirling in indiscernible patterns around the sensitive bundle.

It feels like too much, the rough stroke of his finger pad against your clit, your fingers close around his wrist.

“W–Wait–” your tongue can barely form the words, it’s too much, and if he keeps touching you like this, you fear you’re going to break. A sensation you can’t name growing in your belly, the throb between your legs. The wetness there drips down your thighs, staining the sheets beneath you.

“T–too much, it’s too much.” Acacius hushes you, the muscles of his wrist flexing against your palm, as he continues his pattern. Every touch sends bolts of lightning up your spine, clouding your thoughts.

“It’s alright, let it come,” he whispers against your throat, the rasp of his beard adding another feeling that makes your body ache. Muscles bunching, toes curling, your mouth opens in a silent scream as something washes over you. Overwhelms you, your nails dig into his shoulder. He muffles a noise into your collarbone.

This must be the gods, or death, or–or something. Your body convulses, the throbbing between your legs pulses with every beat of your heart. Eyes rolling in your skull, Acacius groans as you settle. Something hard presses against your hip, but you're still caught in the undertow of whatever spell he’s placed you in.

“M–Marcus,” you whine, as his finger toys with your clit again, the feeling borders on painful, as the touch causes another throb to race through you. “Wh–what did–”

“To help with the next part,” he hums, his fingers leave between your legs. He pulls away from you. Body shivering at the loss of his warmth, the solid form of his body against yours, and you feel more exposed than ever before. A deer caught in the line of Diana’s arrow. As those soft umber eyes look over your exposed flesh, pausing at the swell of your breasts heaving with every breath. He pulls instantly at his wedding tunic, shucking the last article of clothing off.

His skin is a sun kissed tan, and scars lace across the expanse of his flesh. Swords, spears, knives. All manner of brutality has marked him, as your gaze travels lower you stop. The hardness you felt against your hip, long, with a mushroom-like head, a pearl of fluid leaking from the tip. It bobs with his breathing, veins pulse along the shaft, it looks painful. You pull your hazy gaze to meet his, and your breath hitches.

His eyes gleam in the firelight, he reminds you of the towering Jupiter, or Mars. A god made flesh, and your heart stutters as he kneels on the bed between your legs. That fear returning full force. You stumble, and scramble in the sheets. They stick to your sweat-coated skin, and you can’t escape as he settles over you.

Caging you beneath his form, you struggle, Acacius traps your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I will go slow,” he whispers, as again, tears brim along your lashes. His thumb rubs the hollow of your cheek, in an attempt to soothe. It doesn’t, as your heartbeat spikes, and your hands go to his chest weakly. His skin is rough, the scars knotted and strange against your fingers. He makes a noise low in his throat as your hands splay over his flesh.

“But–I thought–” he settles between your thighs, you look into his eyes, pleadingly, a gasp leaves you as his length brushes against your core. He grunts, and his length twitches, you feel it, sudden and foreign. You squirm, and a hand lashes out grabbing your hip to still you.

“Be still,” he whispers through clenched teeth. It’s a command and you listen, forcing your eyes closed, his hand leaves your hip to trail between your bodies. For a moment you think he only means to pleasure himself, but you tense as the head of his cock brushes against your cunt.

“Acacius what–” you're silenced by the pain, though his previous ministrations helped, he’s large. The stretch of him entering you burns, your fingernails dig into his flesh, as if that will quell the pain of him entering you.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, as all your mind can focus on is the stretch of his cock filling you. The way his length spears you, opening you, a soft whine of pain leaves you. Acacius huffs above you, the fingers beside your head curl into the sheets. He leans down forehead against your shoulder.

“So tight,” he rasps, he almost sounds to be in pain as well. You think for a moment, maybe he’ll stop, that it’s too much for him as well. But he presses on, inch by painful inch he opens your cunt. “I’m sorry.” It’s whispered to the flesh above your heart, his lips brush the skin, sending a jolt of something through you once more. Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he settles. You whimper feeling the press of his hips between your own.

“Acacius, please…” You don’t know what you’re begging for, as the uncomfortable fullness settles. You swear you can feel every part of him, the throb of his cock as it rests heavy and thick in your cunt a warm sort of pain that lingers behind your navel. His cock twitches and you jolt, Acacuis grunts above you, again that hand returns to your hips.

“Y–You must be still,” he gasps, your fingers flex, you glance down, seeing the red half moons where your nails dug into his flesh. You silently hope he felt a bit of the pain he put you through. “Tell me when it stops hurting.”

You glance up, those eyes giving you pause, he’s watching you. Taking in every wince, every hiss of breath as he remains still inside you. For a moment you consider lying, telling him it’s too much, but as you both remain there you feel it. The burn subsides, though the fullness remains.

You take your lip between your teeth considering him, the greatest General of Rome, waiting for your lead. You shift, and Acacius gasps, your cunt flutters around him. He shudders above you and his length throbs again inside you.

“D–Don’t–move,” he pants his fist clenching again on your hip, his head lowering to press his forehead to your shoulder again. A stutter of breath against your skin. “Does it still hurt?”

A whispered plea into your breast, you hesitate to answer him, fearing another onslaught of pain. His voice is soft, as his hips give a subtle thrust, “I swear my lady, I will make sure we both find our pleasures.”

A choked noise leaves you, as his pelvis grinds against your clit, your cunt walls quiver around him. Acacius gasps, his arm shakes, and you whine.

“Please–” he grunts, “tell me I can move.” His dark eyes meet yours and your lungs refuse to breathe, your heart stops beating for a moment, and the world slows. His skin shins with a layer of sweat, he’s trapped his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Move,” a whispered acceptance, Acacius takes it with fervor, pulling his hips back, your head falling back into the softness of the sheets. You feel every inch of him, every pulse of his veins as he pulls from your soaked core.

Acacius curses under his breath as he begins a steady, hard rhythm. Every thrust of his hips sends new shock waves of bliss up your spine. Your cunt flutters around his shaft, with every thrust he seems to plunge deeper.

Your legs shift, thighs settling on the solid form of his hips, the movement making you tighten. Acacius gasps, you feel it, another pulse of his cock. He grunts a hand moving from beside your head to between your bodies. Fingers finding your clit again, you keen, toes curling as another wave threatens to overwhelm you.

“Are you close?” He huffs, his hips continue in their thrusting, his fingers dance along your clit. Your eyes can hardly focus on the man straining above you, all you can offer is another high pitched moan, your hips beginning to rise to meet his thrusts.

Acacius groans again, his arm shaking as he pistons into you with a gratuitous fervor, the sounds of your coupling fill the room. Your skin shines with sweat, as does his, those eyes meet yours as he grits his teeth.

His fingers press against your clit, and his cock thrusts so deep inside of you that for a moment you see stars. Your body stills, you forget to breathe for a moment, you think a scream of his name leaves you, as your back arches pressing into Acacius who shouts.

Your cunt quivers around his length, you feel a warmth as his cock throbs inside of you. Both of you remain still, breath returning in soft pants as your vision returns to you. Acaius huffs above you, his hair, once well styled is mussed about his face. But you think distantly that it suits him, he leans down pressing his forehead to your chest.

For a moment you wonder if you will have to remain like this, until with a slow movement Acacius pulls from you. A whine leaves you, as he pulls from your cunt.

You lay on the bed, eyes closed, sweat cooling uncomfortably on your skin. None of your muscles wish to work, and you don’t sense Acacius still in the room.

You’re shocked to feel…disappointment worming its way into your mind, after everything you should be grateful that he’s left you be.

But you’re surprised again as his footfalls sound, with a tired blink you open your eyes and glance up. Acacius has put on a robe, and he kneels beside the bed with a rag, he takes his time cleaning you.

It reminds you, for a moment, of the baths in the Temple where you would clean, and help clean other initiates. His hands are careful as he reaches between your thighs, noticing you tense he’s gentle. Careful of your still sensitive core the roughness of the rag makes you whine, hips bucking away from it. His hand steady's you as he works.

The rag cleans away the wetness that drenches your thighs, and butt. He finishes his cleaning, and then moves to lift you from the edge of the bed to the middle, carefully tucking you into the soft sheets. Your body doesn’t respond to anything, not even the want to help him does it respond, until he turns to leave.

“Marcus,” your voice is soft, unsure, but he stops and turns looking at you, “aren’t you…going to stay?”

His eyes seem to lighten at the question, he bows his head, “Would you like me to?”

You nod, and he relaxes moving back to the bed he settles in beside you, careful not to move you too much. You don’t mind it though, you notice that his sheets smell of jasmine. You huddle into the sheets, staring at the general silently.

And you consider…this marriage my not be one of love…but maybe…of equals.

#marcus acacias x reader #general marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #gladiator ii

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rosesanddecay · 1 year ago

Text

Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)

CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.

(Lmk if you want more in the future)

Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse

Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.

So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.

Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.

You’re in his office? Bend over.

You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.

Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.

Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.

If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.

His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.

Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.

When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.

“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight

Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.

Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.

Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.

He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.

His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.

When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.

Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.

“You did so good for me, darling…”

Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.

But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.

Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.

Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.

His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.

Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.

He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?

Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.

He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.

“So pretty… so pretty…”

Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.

As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.

He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.

Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.

Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.

He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.

Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.

“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”

All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.

Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.

Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.

Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3

Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.

Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.

“Our beautiful darling…”

Basil Stitt - Lightningface

Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.

Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.

He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.

Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.

As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.

He needs you to feel good. He needs you.

When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.

His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.

“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”

Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick

Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.

Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.

Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.

Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.

Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.

Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.

Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like— he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.

Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.

“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”

Blue Jones - Sucker Punch

Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.

He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.

You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.

Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.

With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.

Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.

Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.

You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.

When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.

“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.

Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.

After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.

As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.

He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.

Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.

With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.

His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.

When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.

“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”

Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina

Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.

This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.

The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.

You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.

As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.

Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.

His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.

He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.

His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.

When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.

“Get up. It’s my turn.”

Duke Leto Atreides - Dune

Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.

Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.

Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.

He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.

Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.

He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3

His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.

Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.

When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.

When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.

“I still have time, shall we go for another?”

Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)

John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.

He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.

John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.

Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.

With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.

His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.

John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.

At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.

He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.

Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.

John pats his shoulder.

“Come, rest your head.”

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.

He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.

You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.

He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.

As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.

As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.

When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.

“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”

—————————————————

Thanks for reading!

Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)

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benevolentbones · 7 months ago

Note

gideondaughter!reader and spencer first time talking when the team goes to dinner and spencer is just a mess talking to her

thank you sm for the request!! hope you enjoy<3 requests are still open i’ll be working through them!

kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 1

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light flirting.

word count: 1.5k

summary: it’s gideon’s birthday dinner and the team are here to celebrate.

“are you sure he booked it for 8:30?” jj hummed, holding her clutch purse close to her sage green maxi dress.

“yes. gideon party of nine at mastro’s, 8:30pm.” spencer recalled, having the time and place drilled into his mind in fear of being late.

“party of nine? but there’s only eight of us?” elle’s brows contorted, she counted everyone in the room. jj, morgan, reid, garcia, hotch, prentiss, herself and then gideon who was yet to show, that was only eight.

“maybe he’s bringing a date?” penelope chuckled, her hands smoothing down the hem of her fitted pencil dress.

“gideon? with a date? i highly doubt that.” morgan snickered, leaning against garcia.

the group of agents waited rather impatiently for gideon to arrive to the restaurant. all adorned in their best dress for the awaited man of the hours birthday dinner.

hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.

“it’s only 8:25, he will be here.” he muttered out.

spencer began to fumble with his hands, he would class himself as a fairly patient man, the only thing on his mind currently was who the mystery ninth guest could be. he didn’t like not knowing things, it was part of being a profiler he guessed.

the doors to the dimly lit restaurant swung open, jason gideon walking in full stride with a grin on his face. he wore a navy blue suit jacket paired with his signature chinos.

“finally you’re here, they’ve been complaining for the last ten minutes.” prentiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip.

“its not even 8:30, i said i would be on time- but y/n here couldn’t find the shoes she wanted to wear.” gideon let out a small chuckle as a figure walked through the doors behind him.

a girl, roughly in her early twenties stood beside gideon. her hands clamped together in front of her, a black satin dress adorned her figure, hugging her nicely, which she paired with matching black heels.

“well i found them in the end, dad.” she mumbled out, greeting the group with a small smile.

half the team stood there it awe, mouths gaped and eyes locked on the latest arrivals.

“you clean up nice, jason.” hotch nodded towards the older man, then turning his sights on you.

“beautiful as ever.” he smiled, which he rarely did, and leaned over to give you a hug.

“thanks uncle aaron.” you grinned back, embracing his warm hug.

“i’m sorry you need to catch us up real quick- dad? uncle?” morgan titled his head like a confused puppy.

“i didn’t realise you’d have trouble putting two and two together, morgan. this is my daughter, y/n.” gideon mused, ushering you further into the room.

you held out your hand, derek quickly took it in his, giving it a small shake, cogs in his mind still visibly turning.

“and aaron isn’t actually my uncle- he just acts like it.” you pulled your hand back, returning it to your side.

gideon quickly introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone seeming to come to terms with the fact gideon had a ‘secret’ daughter that he never once brought up.

all the while spencer stood, hands glued to his sides as he eyed you. he had never seen someone so perfect, the way the dress hung from your frame, the way you politely greeted every member of the team.

when gideon had finally reached him to introduce y/n to him, he was caught off guard.

“reid, meet my daughter y/n, im sure it’s not as hard for you to understand.” gideon hummed, making a dig at morgan who had migrated with the group to where the table was set up.

unlike the others, you kept your hand to yourself, but shot spencer a sweet smile.

“it’s really nice to meet you dr. reid- my dad has told me so much about you, i know you’re not big on handshakes.”

spencer’s heart was practically doing backflips at this point. he was completely enamoured by you.

“really nice- to meet you too.” he managed to stutter out.

gideon internally rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what was happening.

“how about we sit down and look at the menu.” he began to usher his daughter towards the table, spencer following quick at his heels.

by the time the three of them had reached where the table set for nine was, the rest of the team were sat, eagerly awaiting them. the only free spaces were at either end of the rectangular table, and an extra place next to the end seat.

“hey gideon come look at this” jj beckoned the older man over, to the head of the table. he briefly turned back to his daughter, before he could utter a word she nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t be sitting with him.

“guess we can sit down at the end together.” you affirmed, shuffling to the free seats with spencer by your side.

once seated, everyone began flipping through the menu, all besides spencer who’s gaze every so often flickered over to the girl beside him, who seemed deep in thought about what she was going to order.

“what are you going to get?” she asked, attempting to make quiet conversation with the man at her side.

spencer hummed, he had researched the restaurant before hand noting all of the dishes he might like.

“the uh- the pasta, i think.” he paused for a moment. “what about you?” he cursed the heat that rose to his face, lifting his hand to loosen the dark purple tie around his neck.

you smiled, still scanning the menu, taking glimpses of spencer in his flustered state.

you had heard many things about most of the team throughout your fathers years of working with them, and when he finally allowed you to meet them, you were most excited to meet spencer.

“i might have that too, it sounds good.”

a few hours had past since everyone had sat down, everyone had finished eating and were now onto their fourth round of drinks, all besides you and spencer.

everyone was deep in conversation about a case from a few years back, obviously you had no clue what they were talking about.

you turned to spencer, who seemed to have gotten more comfortable being in such close proximity to you.

“i swear it feels like we are sitting at the kids table at a christmas dinner.” you giggled to yourself.

“i know right- it’s it’s like we aren’t even here.” spencer returned the chuckle, his heart beating a little faster.

“how are you enjoying the night- i hope im not boring you too much, if you want to join the rest of them feel free.” you mumbled out, eyes migrating to your hands that you had placed on your lap.

“no no- i like it here, i like you- i mean i like being with you i-“ spencer fumbled on his words, causing you to smile. god he was a complete mess.

you reached a hand over, placing it on spencer’s forearm. he could swear his skin felt like it was burning from your touch.

“i like being with you too, spencer.” you whispered out, a soft pink blush dusting your cheeks.

his hazel eyes locked with yours, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. he was partly confused as to why someone like you had enjoyed his awkwardness and rambling.

to say he had little experience talking to women in more than a friendly way, was an understatement.

he was completely out of his depth, and the fact that your father, his boss, sat at the other end of the table made things a little more awkward for him.

“you look really-good tonight, by the way.” he managed to mumble out, without sounding like a complete idiot.

this caused your face to flush, darting your eyes away from him briefly.

“thank you spencer.”

“would you maybe want to-“ before he could continue, gideon had stood up from the table, all eyes were on him.

“lets go y/n, your old man is getting too tired for this.” he joked.

“oh right-“ you stood up quickly brushing off your dress, you did a small lap of the table thanking everyone for the lovely evening and telling them it was great to meet them.

you then followed gideon out of the room, all remaining eyes were now on spencer who slumped down into his chair.

“that’s rough man, you had all night and didn’t even ask her out.” morgan shook his head lightly, feeling somewhat bad for the boy genius.

before spencer could say anything, he watched you dart back into the room, a piece of paper in your grasp. you quickly placed it in spencer’s hand before pressing a light peck to his cheek and running off out of the restaurant again.

the now flustered brunette un crumpled the paper, scanning the scribbled words.

thanks for talking all night, id love to go out with you sometime x

555-555-555 - y/n

“never mind- atta boy!”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #fluff #jason gideon #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jenifer jareau #elle greenaway #emily prentiss

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kithtaehyung · 1 month ago

Text

minted: three (explicit) | myg

title: minted: part three (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: masterlist | one | two rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: at this point, you would do anything to forget. including the unthinkable with a gangster. note: sooo this series basically saved my writing slump haha. i am still having the time of my life and i’m so excited to show y’all more of this minted universe. and to also show you just how spicy things can get❤️‍🔥 note 2: this is ofc a present for hali @sailoryooons that spiraled into a whole universe. still always gonna thank nary @joonary for letting me use the vendor reader idea, as well! also happy birthday to @remmykinsff @awbells @keylime4eva @aaclariww and @noshit-cantfindagoodone!! to everyone else having a bday around this time, this is my gift to you hehehe. warnings: language, drugs, alcohol, slow burn, murder mentions, gang activity, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, chains bc of course :)), world-building, reader is still sassy, yoongi is still infuriating, tension explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: december 9th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 12.3k 😀👍

explicit warnings: i know it’s a slow burn but there’s definitely smut lol, choking, head/hair tugging, penetration, oral (f rec), backshotssss, marking bye, rough sex, ass play, breast play, his hands are a nice necklace😀, taunting cus reader’s an icon, thighs, breath play, spanking, hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, restraints (his hands, robe tie), brat!reader but who is honestly shocked🙂‍↔️, brat tamer!yoongi lmao, yoongi is a menace i’m sorryyyy, but reader is…?????, need them both™, teasing, rawdogging HELLO?? (pls wrap it up fr!), commanding yoongi a ha ha, pain kink, cowgirl🙂‍↕️, this is just the calm before a whole damn storm

—

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

Did you go too far?

Is there a limit to his accommodation? Did you actually think this was gonna be easy?

When silence swirls between your robes, you start to second guess your demand.

But Yoongi simply stares before stepping aside, allowing you to enter his room with jellied legs.

This is madness, but you’re gonna go through with it. Whatever the hell this will be. Because you may not know much, but you figure all men sit up the same when sex is on the table.

This man, though...

Quite frankly, you aren’t sure about anything when it comes to him. Unless it’s about him doing something questionable. Then there’s no question about it.

The enigma himself makes no conversation as you step inside, even as your eyes roam around a cleaner, more put-together room than when you left the first time. Did Yoongi clean this much while you made a mess of your dreams?

The only answer you get is a door shutting, followed by a massive presence at your back. Before you can so much as turn around, the first words on your shoulders burn like embers,

“Was he your first.”

Fuck.

This isn’t what you approached him for. He’s supposed to make you forget, not remember. Remember?

You don’t turn around; you don’t respond right away. Instead, you swallow before focusing very hard on the fact that Yoongi sleeps on the bedside nearest the window. At least, judging by the way the covers are flipped. You happen to prefer the side opposite.

The heat from his body proves soft but intense, and you can’t help but close your eyes when you finally answer with a question,

“Do you remember yours?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“No.”

Your vision lowers to the rug lying still under the bed. A splash of light grey amongst a darkened, moonlit sea.

No matter how quick Yoongi answers. No matter how even his tone.

He still remembers it, too.

But this isn’t what you expected when you walked in here. You assumed this man was going to get right to it, save no room for you to second guess yourself. Clearly he gave zero shits about kissing you in that taxi, and he damn near undressed you in the living room.

So what’s the holdup here? Does he want this for real? Or not?

Head at a slight angle, you admit with a hint of finality, “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

“Mm.” A warm, rough hand subtly tugs at your belt, and prominent knuckles nudge through the smooth material of your robe. “So what are you really here for.”

Your eyes blink thrice.

Yoongi cannot be serious. Does he really not know?

No. He knows. With a shift of your jaw, you realize he’s just fucking with you, purposefully not in the way you want. “You’re being difficult.”

“You woke me up.”

Ah. That’s fair.

“So tell me.”

Well. If you’re gonna have to spell things out for him, he’s gonna be waiting for awhile. Because the more you stand here not doing anything, the harder it is to gather a little thing called courage. Courage to meet the beast in his den, and madness to let him devour you whole. Now you have neither. Neither, neither, neither.

Awkwardness sticks to your throat until it’s jammed, and you can barely mush your lips together to form sounds. The courage you speak of flees before you can wrangle it, and what’s left of your answer tumbles out like boulders, “This is.. I don’t.. I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s,” you huff, noting that you don’t like this horrible mix of hesitation and anger, “It’s… I’m—”

Your vision jolts as you feel a quick tug shit you’re spinning fuck your back just hit a wall—

“Of all things today,” Yoongi murmurs with slits for eyes, “This is what gets you to shut up?”

Damn it.

You don’t even have a rebuttal. Because he’s right. Yoongi’s sharp discernment is millimeters from your face and you have no intention to move nor speak. Only quick breaths. Only shaky exhales.

But you do swallow.

Which brings out a sound you will never admit you like: a breathy, condescending laugh, as coarse and as soft as his touch.

“You mean to tell me,” he observes, tilting your chin while his irises blaze dark, “You came all the way in here for nothing?”

“No, I—”

“All that talk, and for what.”

Defend yourself. Say something. Say just one word two words any words—

Did Yoongi just pat your cheek? ..Twice?

Why did you kinda like that—

“Makes no sense,” he ponders aloud, lolling his head and staring down your crumpled lips. “Who even are you..”

Now that's an easy one. You always have the answer to that question.

“No one,” you whisper. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Seems like the people back home aren’t the only ones you’ll let down. If Yoongi keeps that question loaded in the chamber, he’s gonna keep shooting the same target. Over, and over, and over.

But you don’t have to worry. Because he drops it, caging you in with a hand near your stiff, risen shoulder, “So what are you here for.”

This is a mistake. Either Yoongi doesn’t want this, or he’s being frustrating on purpose and your fire is both stoked and quelled. “Now I don’t know for sure.”

“The more you stall the harder it gets,” he goads with a lick of teasing. And for a split, minuscule second, you wonder if that meant more than one thing.

Goddamn, he’s annoying. He’s outright savoring this.

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. You woke him up for god’s sake. If someone did this same thing to you after the day you’ve had, you wouldn’t have even let them in.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi’s version of dealing with a midnight inconvenience is whittling them down until they leave—

“So you can tell my bellhop off but I get nothing, huh.”

Oh, shit.

You’re so taken aback that you can only ask, “What?”

Mercifully, the dragon gives you air, straightening before leaving your personal space.

Your focus should be on his words. You know this. But he uses this moment to rake his hair, and words are no match for the sleeve cascading down his inked forearm.

Even as his hair flows in waves, you still cling to his tattoos as he looks downward in thought. “You think I wouldn’t check who the fuck was coming up here?”

It takes you a second to process.

But you realize what this means and you fall silent again.

Yoongi saw that? All of that? You acted without much thought, and if he really did see and hear everything that went down, there’s a chance he thinks a lot differently about you now. No wonder he’s so thrown by this switch in behavior.

But on the other hand.. The way he touched you in the living room. Was all that because of what he saw? Is that side of you the one that pulled him close?

You thought his parting would allow you room to breathe. How very wrong you were.

Shoving all contemplation aside, you decide to coat the room with concern, your assertion making a brief comeback, “He said a lot of shit, Yoongi. What was that about?”

He languidly approaches the long table at your side—one you faintly noticed while leaving the room the first time. Unbothered, he slides unhurried fingers over a gun, stopping on the barrel before reaching for something less lethal.

A decanter, it seems. Liquid flows from the container into a smaller glass, and you assume it’s whisky from the deep amber tones and luscious pour.

When you wonder where else Yoongi litters his weapons, he cuts through your surveying,

“You really wanna know?”

Looking up, you nod.

He sets the bottle down with a dull clink. “He took his chances.”

“His.. What?”

Now what the hell could this man mean by that? You were clearly being coaxed into leaving the premises, vaguely feeling like something seemed off. How is he being so dismissive about all this?

Slowly, Yoongi shakes his head, looking out into the night while taking his initial sip. “I don’t come here often. But when I do, I come alone.” Long fingers nestle his cup perfectly as he explains further, “It’s been awhile, so. Had to feel out the staff.”

The staff. Is that why Yoongi held your hand? To weasel someone out? You really thought he meant it when he said he just wanted to…

How naive.

“His plan could’ve been solid.”

“But what?” You ask, newfound frustration clipping your tone.

Yoongi slides you a look over the rim of his glass. “He didn’t know who he’d be dealing with.”

Your eyes roll so far they strain.

But this begs a question. Does he mean dealing with you? Or him? Surely he meant your little show at the elevator but he could very well mean himself.

Facts are facts. Would Yoongi really trade il-don for you? Absolutely not. So you have to assume he’s mostly talking about the latter.

Your scoff is pitched to the side, “Of course. You wouldn’t trade il-don for anything.”

Yoongi pauses, not acknowledging your comment in the slightest as he strolls back your way. “Something I am curious about..” As he leans in, musk and whisky invade both your space and senses. And you hate, hate, hate that you need more of it. “Who was he talking to?”

“Someone he royally pissed off.”

“Mm.”

“You’re not gonna punish him?”

“Me? Nah.” Leaning on the sideboard, he stares out the windows across the room. Your vision follows suit. “Not until I have to.”

If what happened wasn’t enough to warrant a punishment, you’re morbidly curious about what ticks the box. “I figured he’d be dead by now. At least for trespassing.”

Yoongi only shrugs. “Grey zones aren’t just amnesty for the clans. Anything goes here, too, so a ransom attempt isn’t surprising.”

This man really doesn’t stand on black or white. Here you are with eggs for brains discovering you were almost taken instead of saved, and he’s chalking it up to, what, just another Tuesday? Or is it still Monday? You don’t even know anymore.

Your question leaves you a little scuffed. Because you feel exactly like leftover goods. The fruit at the back. “Are you always this heartless?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Great.

So much for being… Safe up… here…

You glance at the touch on your hip, and your eyes traverse up his arm as he toys with your belt again.

Shouldn’t you feel disgusted? Shouldn’t you be walking away? It’s crystal clear how little this man thinks of you, or anyone for that matter. He probably brought you along just to be a shield for his precious il-don. So why can’t you bring yourself to leave?

Your knot starts to loosen.

His voice begins to flow.

“But if you’re gonna go for what’s mine, don’t be an idiot.”

Wait.

No. Nope. Stop thinking about what that could mean. Because if you think too hard, it will only leave you disappointed.

But there’s something you won’t stop doing. And Yoongi knows you won’t. So as he keeps playing at your waist, your words come out in shudders,

“Can’t believe you used me.”

Yoongi hums, and it makes you shiver when his touch leaves you to rest against wood counters. “You’re about to use me, too.”

Fucking hell, he’s right.

“Gotta say I didn’t expect it, but..” Damn him and his head tilts. “I’m impressed.”

You’re too empty-headed that you can’t even process his words as genuine praise. His touches already feel like pops of lights in the night sky.

It’s a given. You aren’t prepared for him in the slightest.

“Come here.”

Lightly pulling your hand, Yoongi brings you to stand in front of him. And from this point of view, you become even more ensnared.

His robe flows down his taut build so beautifully, painting him like dark water over rolling hills. At his peak, the hair you’ve come to miss frames his face like artwork. Mesmerizing. Your downfall.

“You get one more chance. Tell me why I’m awake.”

Your brow lift is only a front. The rest of you is shaking, trembling, howling. “You clearly know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Relentless. Will you shame yourself for wanting to see him use this same strategy on other people? Most likely. But will that stop you from thinking about it anyway? Absolutely, positively not.

But there’s another side of you that’s being comforted. And it’s the side that realizes how much he’s spoken, how much time you’ve spent without needing to watch behind your back.

Yoongi talking this much? It’s making things easier. And it’s strangely making you feel a little better, even if the subject matter isn’t the greatest topic in the universe.

After you steal a glance at the other whisky glass, you look into his eyes. Determined and decisive. Knowing exactly what you want at this very moment, because you just need a little more time.

“Tell me more. About grey zones.”

Something in the air freezes. And Yoongi’s brows crease so comically you almost laugh. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

His nod is slow as he sets down his glass.

And you’re quickly hauled back so fast that you don’t have time to react.

A rush of air. The world topples. Soft sheets.

Dangerously, a thin chain sways above as Yoongi shrouds your body in silk and lingering smoke. A gasp escapes you as he peers into your eyes, and your senses fire as a commanding hand slides up your thigh.

“Final answer?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck you know you want him and you still do but also talking to him isn’t half bad and maybe you’re just tired of being lonely—

Musk. Alcohol. Breathing hard, you take it all in. Slowly nodding because you can’t function otherwise, which makes a dragon flash teeth.

But he obliges without moving a muscle, so you’re left underneath a demon—robe dangerously close to opening and exposing everything once again.

A man of conviction, Yoongi does exactly as you ask. Eyes drooped, he continues his explanations, as if he didn’t just shove you into his enormous bed and tangle you under his legs,

“They started awhile ago, back when all the high-powers got locked in a grudge match. Took half the city with them.”

Immediately, your shoulders start to sink into his tale. “Half is a lot.”

“Everything went to shit,” he agrees. “Not even the Politicol could stop it all.”

“Bullshit.”

His level expression is enough to refute.

Now that’s a shock to learn. For as long as you can remember, the Politicol have always held more power than any force should ever have. If they weren’t able to keep this under control, the high-powers used to be ungodly.

Staring at the slippage on Yoongi’s shoulder, you wonder if those ink lines are to immortalize the ones that came before him. The history he must’ve grown up memorizing.

Still.. Why does he have them all? There’s no way he doesn’t know how disrespectful that is to all three clans.

But then again. He said he didn’t choose them himself. Which leads you nowhere in this unending maze.

Head disheveled; robe coming undone. To outsiders, you’d be at Yoongi’s mercy.

But in reality, you’re laser focused on him and his explanations. Especially when his voice scratches every itch just right. “So…” You watch his gaze slowly slide down your face. “What happened?”

Even now, Yoongi’s hands stay exactly where they are. The only thing that moves is the tinkling swing of his silver above your warming neck. “Deals were made, stripping power from all of them in certain sectors so that none could completely take over.”

“Why only in certain ones?”

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Let’s just say the negotiations went how you think they did.”

Your eyes roll yet again. But another question pings into your mind as quick as the first one, knitting your brows. “Wait… Deals with the Politicol? Or each other? No way they would’ve let cowards put them all on a leash.”

At this, something interesting passes over Yoongi’s face.

But it flits away before you can snatch it for further inspection, and the shift of his leg against your thighs resets your brain.

“Any of the clans could’ve monopolized if they had the right resource, but. They weren’t ever gonna let outsiders get a piece. Called a truce and kept their mouths shut.”

Makes sense. You know exactly what resource he’s referring to. “The il-don.”

“That’s part of it.” He shifts again, but this time, your legs have more room to move. “But grey zones have priority infrastructure. The ones that keep the lights on. If you had the money, you had the people. And people are the best resource there is.”

It’s at this moment that a lot of things click into place.

And one of those is figuring out that you may have been a little wrong about the man above you.

Is he heartless? To a high degree. But that comes with being calculating. Patient. Smart. Everything that Yoongi has been this entire time you’ve tagged along.

He’s not keeping the il-don safe because he treasures it. It’s because the money is a tool. A tool to help him get what he wants whenever he needs. And leverage it for value instead of frivolous decisions and material things.

Yoongi must have really, really enjoyed your tangerines.

A stray touch finally makes its way inside your thigh. And you flare between your legs. Shivering. Aching. You’re sparkling inside but won’t allow yourself to fully explode. Not when he’s revealing so much without telling. Not when you’re starting to see things from his angle.

“Keep talking,” you rush out, gripping his robe and squeezing his pelvis.

Though his fingers still light flares on your skin, Yoongi stops in his daring quest, observing your face without judgment.

“I like it,” you shakily admit. Because screw it, since you’ll never see him again. “Learning about all this.”

You sigh at his weight. His beautiful, strangely calming weight. “About you, too.”

Stopping all movements, Yoongi coats your skin with gravel. “What good will knowing all this do.”

He’s got a point. And it hammers home exactly what you were just thinking. “Nothing, maybe,” you answer, squeezing his robe a little longer.

Fuck, you really are this deprived. This lonely. Is bedding a dangerous man—this dangerous man—really better than being alone right now? A mental reset is outstandingly in order throughout the coming abysmal months.

You finish your weak explanation, hoping it’s enough to convince him,

“But it’s helping.”

Yoongi lifts his head to watch your eyes. And you observe how dark his are in return. How cold.

But yet.. Why do you also see…?

With a slight huff, you tack on, “And you aren’t so annoying to talk to right now.”

There it is. That spark you’ve seen before in dusty, tinkering streets. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I might.”

He exhales, shifting himself into a sitting position and facing the door. “The thing about grey zones.. No affiliation, no rules. You can be anyone here.”

When you lift your upper body to sit, you watch his side profile as you repeat, “Anyone?”

Yoongi turns to look at your lips.

You know there’s a question you want to ask. But for some reason, it’s difficult to say.

But eventually, you can’t help it. Because you’re intrigued. You’re haunted. And you really, really need this.

“Then who do you want me to be.”

He lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Looking into your eyes, he asks in disbelief, “You?”

“I’m pretty good at pretending.”

“Sure you are.” He gives you another small grin before resting forearms on his knees. “But you don’t want my answer to that.”

Swallowing is proving too difficult. What the hell does he mean by that? Is it one big bluff or a real opinion? “You’re just being a pussy.”

All you get is the side of his cheek rising high.

Yeah. He’s not gonna tell you a damn thing.

“Forget about me then. Who are you right now?” You wait as his expression falls back to earth. “Agust? Or Yoongi?”

When you end with silence, you’re met with an approaching shadowed visage. And even in this moment, you sense static in the air, both of you poised and locked in a dangerous, thrilling dance.

“You tell me.”

Your breath cuts as he slips a finger inside your robe, and you dare not breathe when he pulls—slow, unhurried, intoxicating.

You’ve never felt quite like this.

Are you supposed to do something, too? Is there something that usually happens here? Your experience isn’t zero but it is clearly leagues below where it should be.

Before you can blink a third time, your garment is ever, ever so slightly off your shoulder.

And you haven’t uttered a damn thing.

So he keeps going, sliding it lower, and lower, until he reveals a part of you that you didn’t mean to reveal so suddenly before.

This time, it’s deliberate. And that makes it terrifying.

This is the point of no return. The slope of your chest barely keeps your robe from dipping any farther. It’s happening, and life between you will never be the same when it’s over.

And yet.

Your nerves speak up at the worst time.

“Get me a drink,” you whisper, “Then maybe I will.”

Yoongi flicks up an eyebrow before obliging, and you silently mourn the loss of his heated touch.

He walks over to pour you something neat, taking his time bringing both glasses to the bed. When you sit up properly, you habitually adjust your robe, scoffing at his hum.

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking the glass and smelling the piercing aroma. “Maybe this is what I needed all along.”

“You ever had sex before?”

The question is so sudden and blunt that you cough up a burning sip. “Ow, fuck..” Wincing, you wipe your mouth before breathing in scratchy inhales. “If you must know, I have.”

“Maybe you are good at pretending then,” Yoongi drawls. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. This situation is new to me.”

His brow raises are definitely talking a lot for him.

“I’ve just never.. I dunno. Never had just one night.” Taking a more cautious sip, you continue. “Much less with someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“With a.. You know.” You fiddle with your glass. “A customer.”

When you hear his reaction, you stare at his raised cheek, stomach fluttering when he sighs downward,

“You can’t just say shit like that.”

“I can say whatever I want,” you counter. “Especially since I…”

You don’t wanna finish that. It helps that Yoongi doesn’t look your way still, taking a sip of his whisky instead. His locks swing forward as he leans, and you almost reach out to feel them. Maybe you’ll get to very soon. When you finally get over this final hurdle of outright shyness.

Why are you so timid right now? Why can’t you just tell him what you very obviously came in here for and get on with it? You’ve been decisive as fuck the rest of today, so what’s got your tongue pressed this time? Is it really your abysmal level of experience?

Or is it because you’re gravitating to more sides of him with each passing second?

“Since you what.”

“Since I don��t like you,” you snip.

Yoongi flashes teeth in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, shut up.” You take another drink, feeling the burn down your throat. “I don’t have to if it’s true.”

Both of you keep drinking in silence after that. Which makes things a weird mix of calm and awkward, considering what your original mission was.

Going over the events of today, it’s a wonder why you aren’t crashing into a dreamless sleep. You’ve been up and having the most exhausting day ever, and yet, you can’t imagine shutting your eyes.

Think of something else to talk about. Anything. Any topic you could possibly hold a conversation with Yoongi over.

What did he respond to before? No small talk, since the plantains thing from months ago was a bust. And when you conversed over ramyeon it was more of him angering you on purpose—wait a minute.

There was something you never circled back to.

And as soon as you ask him about it, he appears impressed you remembered,

“Were you bluffing when you said you knew what I was shopping for?”

“No,” he responds immediately. “And I know I’m right.”

“Prove it.”

Mouth curved at an annoying angle, Yoongi shoots you a look before placing his drink down, getting up to walk to a tall armoire.

Your eyes follow his every movement, even the way his ass moves under that damned robe. But soon, your jaw goes slack not because of his assets.

But because the motherfucker was right on the money.

How the… How the fuck did Yoongi know?

In front of your face lies exactly what you were searching for. Sleek. Minimal. Lightweight and visibly balanced. You don’t even want to keep shopping around because this is the only one you want.

How did he know you were shopping for daggers based on one single line of questioning?

“I wasn’t gonna show you until you asked,” he divulges. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d forget. This one was hard as fuck to track down.”

Eyes flicking up to his, you ask in wonder, “Can I…?”

He lifts it slightly, signaling that you can indeed hold it yourself.

And it’s perfect.

“Wow,” you breathe out, feeling along its edges and hilt. It’s all one continuous line, with metal so black and matted that you almost moan. “I don’t have much on me, but.. I’ll give you whatever you want for this.”

“Keep it.”

What?

“It’s yours.”

There’s no way he’s just gonna gift this to you. It’s perfectly crafted in material you can’t even find in Crane. And they have almost every class of ore in existence.

Who even is this man?

“Yoongi, this is…” You shake your head while extending it back. “I can’t just take this.”

“You can.” He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist. “I did.”

Oh. Charming. The weapon you’re being gifted is stolen goods. “Well, in that case, I really can’t accept it.”

But goddamn, this is more than perfect. You can’t even pluck one finger off the handle. And you can’t change the fact that it was already taken, right? Right?

“At least…” Scowling at your own crumbling morals, you mumble, “Not without good reason.”

He looks at you over his shoulder. “Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you reply. “But I’d like one.”

Yoongi sighs long before moving his fingers. “I lied to you back there in the lobby.” Looking up at a clock instead of you, he works his jaw. “But this time, it really is just that.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

Fuck, the veins in his hands are so prominent when he laces them together. “No. But it’s better than those chopsticks you’re saving in the bathroom.”

Oh. So he saw those, too.

“Thank you,” is what you wave in white. Because that’s exactly how you feel and this one gesture does excuse some of his faults. Maybe. Or your standards have plummeted to the gutters. “I, umm. I usually keep one for self-defence. Just in case.”

Turning it over and back again, you marvel at its light but solid weight. “But I lost mine in the last rough raid before they suddenly stopped.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“K.” Placing it on the closest nightstand, you go back to holding your glass between your hands. “One day I’ll pay you back somehow.”

Yoongi shoots that down on sight. “No need.”

“But I want to.”

He glares before picking up his alcohol. “Anyone that owes me shit gets treated a lot different.” The drink rests in his hand like a liquid gem. “So just accept it as a gift, doll.”

You’d laugh if you knew he was kidding. But you know he’s dead serious, so you only nod.

It’s quiet again as you both retreat into your minds.

Yoongi has the mental fortitude of a fortress it seems. Because he really is set on waiting until you tell him what you woke him up for, and it’s been awhile since this all started.

But being in his presence while the night is quiet is somewhat comforting. You’re finding it easy to think about other things now, especially after he gave you so much to mull over.

Like grey zones and how they came to be. It’s fascinating how you had no clue even though you should. Even though this whole conflict affected half the city.

Wanting to gain more insight, you blurt your curiosity, “How long ago were the grey zones fought over? Before everything was decided?”

“Years. Decades, at this point,” Yoongi answers, his gaze locked as you think about this timeline. “Most people don’t even bother knowing, though.”

“Why? This sounds like a big part of our history.”

“No one cares if a Crane kills a Dragon.” His tone shifts slightly. And you wouldn’t have caught it if not for his subtle sulk. “They only resent the blood they have to wipe from the street.”

Your lids lower all the same. Because that resonates deep within your chest, so much so that you feel your heart bend in its aching. “No one cares about us, either.”

When Yoongi catches your look, you give a sad excuse of a smile. “Being a vendor? Especially where I am? You quickly figure out how little you matter. You as a person, I mean.”

You slide fingers along the tiny rim of your glass, lost in the fibers of his rug more than anything else.

Maybe you’re just a loose fiber in the rug of this city. One that will pretend to run only to be swept back into the folds. “The only things that people remember are what you offer. Anything other than that isn’t worth their time.”

Lifting your chin, you save face. “Can’t say I won’t miss you.” May as well admit it all if you aren’t ever gonna see him again. “You were the only one that ever let me bother them.”

“You never bothered me.”

You look up to see him staring. Lip curled upward, you huff. “With all the looks you gave me? I find that hard to believe.”

Yoongi doesn’t laugh in return. “What would I gain from lying?”

Mm. That’s an interesting question. But the alcohol starts to talk for you as you have the balls to flirt. “People lie to get laid, for one.”

“Mm.” He takes a measured sip of his glass, the last dredges of it swaying at the bottom. “Can’t say I’ve ever needed to.”

“Shocker,” you drawl, sipping to match his pace. And it’s after this drink that you loosely admit, “This is really good, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Lifting the glass to peer inside, you swirl it around before divulging a past you don’t talk about—ever. But what are rules of conversation when you want to stall? “My uncle got me into whisky a long time ago. But fruit stands don’t pay for top shelf alcohol.”

“Where’s he at now?”

“Uhh.” You look away. “Gone.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

He gets up, and you watch in silence as he makes his way to the sideboard. Stuff shifts around before he appears to pour another glass. And he stays there for a bit, black robe blending into all the dark decor.

“Yoongi?”

He turns.

“Can you keep talking?” You keep your drink steady between your robed legs. Buzzed and vulnerable, you offer an explanation, “Turns out there’s a lot I wanna forget right now.”

Like endings. And future endless days without your most frustrating, most dangerous, most favorite customer.

Yoongi pauses before walking back to the bed. When his thighs settle next to yours, he asks without much heart, “What do you wanna know.”

“You.”

His jaw shifts, and you feel a slight tug in your chest.

Was that too forward? Probably. But you’ll take what you can get, like a last meal chosen to hit every one of your desires. “Anything you wanna tell me, of course.”

Yoongi remains quiet. Which isn’t unexpected but still a little letdown.

“Not much to tell.”

Ah. Just more lies then. Maybe you should stick to the original plan. “Nothing at all?”

He looks at you, planting a hand on the bed to lean a little closer. “Nothing you’d wanna hear.”

You shift between his eyes. Wondering if it’s better not knowing or if you really do wanna give in.

Perhaps his eyes will speak for him instead. Glowing dark. Hints of ember and smoke. Years and years squeezed into those irises.

“What if I do,” you quietly question, catching the light on his alcohol-tainted lips.

Reaching out, you boldly place a thumb over one side, slowly brushing off excess liquid and marveling at how soft he is there. Tender, just like his name. “What if I don’t care.”

Yoongi waits for a moment before holding your wrist, the atmosphere trembling and buzzing around your shoulders. Oxygen depletes as he leans in close, his beautiful features almost touching yours.

You feel something locking into place. Something beautiful and terrifying. And it holds you down as you feel his hair, his warmth, his—

A noise blares into the room before you can feel yourself rushing upward, your body reacting on survival instinct alone. Glasses spill onto the rug and you don’t know what’s happening but lack of sleep lack of comfort lack of everything has you ready for—

Time stops.

Sounds muffle.

And your eyes flash wide as you see the tip of your blade pointed straight at Yoongi’s side.

Just as he’s poised with a gun pointed towards the door.

It’s a phone ringing.

A fucking. Telephone.

What have you done?

As Yoongi slowly shifts his gaze to your outstretched hand, you tremble in severe regret. Regret that you pulled this on him with the very weapon he gave you. Regret that he knows all there is to know about how you still feel about him.

But you didn’t mean to… You didn’t even think. And you abhor how you directed your fear at the one person that kept you alive. The one person you fucking saved.

When Yoongi lowers his gun, he doesn’t acknowledge the guilt on your face. But as he walks away to grab his device, his gaze flicks back to you before he answers across the room.

Shit.

You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up.

You weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t care. You really weren’t. But who knows what Yoongi will think of you after that shock of a face off.

Coming into his room was most definitely a mistake. Now you can’t wrangle your emotions for shit, head pounding with feelings and outcomes and adrenaline to the brim.

Yoongi’s close to the wide bathroom stairs, so you can’t hear what’s being said. He does keep looking at you, though, which keeps your fingers pressed against a hilt.

Are you in danger? Will Yoongi not want anything to do with you anymore? Is it alarming that you can’t decide which one is worse?

The call doesn’t last long.

And as soon as he hangs up, you’re sputtering like a broken fountain, dagger still wielded as he stalks forward—phone clunking to the ground. “Who was that.”

“No one.”

“What’s gonna happen to me.”

“Nothing.”

Fuck. You really did fuck everything up. Your brain is so battered that you’re gonna be skittish and paranoid for a long, long time. “Yoongi, I’m so—I didn’t mean to—It just happened—”

Forget it. It’s over. Your last interaction will haunt you forever and the only way you’ll experience what could’ve happened between you will be in your wildest darkest sweetest illest—

Burns flare at your eyes when Yoongi’s chest meets the quivering tip of your blade.

“Stop,” you wince out, a damning tear pinging to your feet. “Just stop.”

He starts to walk forward, which alarms you enough to step back because what the fuck is he doing! Why can’t your arms move? Why can’t you lower the fucking dagger?

“I can’t,” you croak. “I can’t move.”

You’ve been firing on all fronts the whole day. Even in your dreams, you’re in survival mode. You can’t unlock your arms because they fight for the rest of you. Your legs propel you when the rest of you wants to give up.

But that still doesn’t stop your heart from aching. It burns, it burns, it burns.

When Yoongi grips your wrist, you choke on a sob. When he calls you smart, you squeeze your eyes shut in shame. And when he whispers to drop the fucking blade or he’ll do it for you, you do so after a maddening pause.

It clunks to the ground when a gun does, and you’re suddenly spun until the backs of your knees hit something solid.

Immediately, you’re thrust back onto dark sheets again, tears now rolling into your ears as you instinctively let Yoongi smother you whole.

His hand slides to your inner thigh, and your mind reels when you start feeling a hardness on your stomach. Breath whooshes out of your mouth before you're covered in silk and muscle, and pleasure bursts from where he quickly devours your neck fuck.

Hands are quick to untie your robe as fire stokes your throat.

“I won’t ask again,” he vows with a voice that rumbles. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want.”

“Yoongi—”

“Say it and it’s yours.”

“Make me forget,” you shove through your teeth. “Just make me fucking forget.”

“How.”

Fuck lack of experience. Fuck being shy. You aren’t wasting another damn second and your emotions need all the release they can get. Loose lips, loose tongue, looser inhibitions.

The monster inside of you yanks at its chain, claws and claws at its confines screaming at you to give in. You need this. You want this, especially if Yoongi himself is gonna give it so willingly.

Just say it. Just say it.

“If this really is the last time I’ll see you…”

Yoongi stills as your eyes lock unblinking.

Tell him. Four words.

“Fuck me like it.”

A proverbial chain snaps as Yoongi dives into your neck, ravishing you and sucking hard on your vein. When you yelp, your clenched legs seem to encourage, and he thrusts forward to launch you up the bed with a purpose. With intention.

All to let you know what you just got yourself into.

His fingers light little fires along your skin, burning everything in their paths up your arms, your sides, squeezing into your imperfections and latching down. His lips set your being ablaze as he keeps feasting, causing your breaths to get shorter, and shorter, and shorter.

“So sensitive..”

When you feel the warm swipe of a tongue, your eyes scrunch shut as you shudder. Which makes the whole thing worse for you when Yoongi chuckles dark in return.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

“Shut up,” you huff out, grasping for his robe and raking at his sleeves. “Of course I am—Fuck.”

His thumb rolls across your exposed nipple, pinching it to make you arch right up into his chest. “You sure?”

When the hell did he even open your robe? How did he do that so quick without you knowing?

You bite down on your lip to keep from screaming, nodding in determination while your brows almost kiss.

Watching your expression, Yoongi pinches again, biting his own lip while slowly spreading that shit grin. Your moan comes out more like a muted hum, which seems to displease.

“Uh uh,” he orders. “You’re gonna be loud for me.”

“But what if someone—”

“They won’t.”

He continues in his control, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up before shoving it to the side.

And you know where he’s going. But it still shocks you all the same when his fingers make contact with your slick.

Your very, very wet slick.

Many, many things will haunt you for life. Your experiences. Your choices.

But right now? The only thing that will follow you to your grave is this distinct, biting, staccato batch of laughter. “You shouldn’t’ve ever come in here.”

Breath ragged, you watch as Yoongi concentrates, exploring your cunt with his long digits and hitting every nerve with perfection. When you rub against him, he growls, lifting shiny fingers to insert right into his mouth.

Sucking.

Licking.

And your eyes mirror his at once—as black and pulsing as fallen stars.

He swoops down at the same moment you tug on his clothing, his mouth latching onto the side of your neck he hasn’t ravaged. Impatient, his hand yanks the bottom of your robe to the side, fully exposing your legs and leaking folds while you grapple with your own obstacles.

It’s messy. It’s jilted. It’s exactly what you want.

As soon as you find the slit in his robe, you take a brave leap and reach for his cock, not knowing what you’re gonna find but having a vague idea based on his—

Oh. What.

Fuck, he’s gonna split you in two.

You’ve held one before. You know what they feel like. But this cannot be possible and you’re already mentally preparing yourself for your breaking point.

“You good?”

You snap your head right up, realizing how stunned you must be if he’s asking. “I… You’re fucking huge.”

Yoongi doesn’t react, but that somehow makes it more attractive. Like he knows. And he doesn’t deny a thing. “That a problem?”

“I mean… I think I’ve lived a good enough life.”

To your surprise, the man above breaks completely as you keep blabbering, shoulders shaking alongside those stupid dimples. Those beautiful, elusive dimples. Too bad this is the last time you’ll ever see them. “Did what I wanted.. Not everything, but most of my list.”

Yoongi’s still chuckling. And for a brief moment, you’re brought back to the days he was just a patron. Back to when you would think about him before bed, delighted to see him stop by.

This is him. This is Yoongi with you now.

Where was he this whole time? Was he really waiting until you answered him for real?

You went so far into your head that you missed the change in position. So it makes you jump like hell when you realize where his teal mop of hair resides. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?”

Between your thighs, Yoongi lifts a brow, locking your legs with tough arms before you can even move.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to—oh, fuck!”

The first contact of his tongue on your folds makes your eyes burst, your legs effectively being pinned down in their tensing. Jolts of lust spiral from your core as he licks, sucks, twirls around your clit like it’s second nature, and you feel yourself welcoming his every thrust.

This is happening. This is happening? You’ve never done this before, not that you’ll admit it. Whatever Yoongi’s doing is completely new territory for you and you don’t ever think you’ll leave. Permanent residence. No other land to discover.

Whines echoes throughout the room before you slap a hand over your mouth. Because the whole world will hear his name if you don’t. Especially when he adds fingers and curls them just right what the fuck!

He makes you forget. And forget. And forget. You even forget your own name. Only his. Saying it into your palm over and over and clawing his sheets with the other.

A low growl rumbles between your legs before you hear him purr, “Just like I fucking thought.”

What’d he say? He didn’t say that. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. There’s absolutely no way Yoongi’s imagined anything about you, much less what you taste like.

And the words keep coming as he whispers how tight you feel. How hot. How perfect you’re gonna fit him.

While all you can utter in return is gibberish mixed with the syllables of his name.

Pleasure rolls in waves as he learns every inch of your cunt, fingers drenched in your slick and the curves of his cheeks lathered in your scent. When he reaches beneath you to grope your ass, he gives a rough squeeze.

“Move your fucking hand.”

Your eyes fling wide.

“I wanna hear you.”

“No, I’m—there could be people—”

He clambers over you, robe wide open and revealing a body that rips your soul clean out. When he seizes your palm to shove it to the side, another monster starts to wake within your chest.

And this one takes treacherous pleasure in those slitted eyes.

“You’re gonna scream for me.”

“Or else what.”

The dark rumble. The rolling thunder.

Your other monster is starting to match his glint. “You don’t wanna do that with me, doll.”

“Do what?” you ask with flitting eyes.

When all you get is a sharp smirk in return, your stomach flips in desire and excitement. So when he slaps the side of your breast, you hum high with a delighted flinch.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

Yes. This is what you came in here for. Your shyness will have to be comfortable with the unknown, but it’s also helping seeing Yoongi much more relaxed.

Like a normal person.

Especially when he leans over to open his bedside drawer, hair swaying as he grabs for what you think are condoms.

Your hunch is right when he rights himself again, teeth nicking a wrapper before tearing it in one sweep. When you start to clench your legs together in response, he shoves them back open with a thigh, robe parting to show exactly what’s going to splice you in half.

You’ll gladly take his amusement at your jaw unhinging. Because what you see is heaven sent.

Yoongi says nothing as he wraps himself fully, and he continues to be silent as you whisper,

“I wanna see you.”

It doesn’t take long for him to understand. As his length presses against your core, he slips off his dark robe, letting it slide down equally dark sheets before pouring onto the floor.

You’re just as quiet as he situates himself above your beating heart. Which is for the best. Your thoughts are better left unsaid.

All you can do is grip his arm, sliding your hand up until you can finally, finally brush his hair with your own fingers. Exhaling when you discover how soft it feels. How comfort can be found in something as trivial as tendrils.

“This is helping, too,” you murmur to his lips, inhaling what you realize is your own scent.

When he cradles your chin, your breath cuts. “Things happen when you say what you want.”

“If only it was always that easy.”

“It is with me.”

Your heart skips twice before tripping on itself, and you instinctively curl your palm against his head. “Everyone around you must be so lucky.”

An eyebrow lifts before he huffs. “Not talking about just anyone, love.”

…Huh?

What does he mean by that because shit you’re getting tugged forward he’s so strong—

“Now, if you’re gonna be difficult,” Yoongi warns. “Let’s give you enough time to reconsider.”

Your thighs widen as he positions himself at your entrance, cockhead rubbing along your folds as you tense.

“Uh uh.” He hums. “This is what you want, yeah?”

“It’s been awhile,” you spat, rolling your eyes when he shoots you a knowing look. “Just… give me a second.”

Obliging, Yoongi starts slow, making your head roll into the pillow as you accommodate his girth. Holy fuck, he’s big. But he’s sliding in easy after his little feast down there, which you piece together as one big prep for the main course.

“Fuck,” he groans, resisting every urge to plow straight into you. At least, from what you can decipher in his pinched features. If this feels amazing for you, you can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now. It only gives you butterflies knowing he’s following through with his word. “So fucking tight.”

“Not my fault you take up… so much space,” you grit through your teeth, neck straining as you blow air to the ceiling.

Fully sheathed, Yoongi rests inside until your muscles relax. And you only peel your eyes open when you start to slip into more pleasure than anything else.

Okay. You can do this. You can fit him surprisingly well—maybe too well—and you’re okay to keep going without restraint.

When you peer down your body, you expect him to look bored or indifferent. Like he’s wasting time dealing with you.

So it makes you shiver when Yoongi looks ready to ruin.

Toned arms flex at his sides, hands keeping your thighs held in their place. When a strand of vibrant hair falls, his chains spark in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. A dragon that waits. And waits.

You’re ready. Your demise will be your reward.

“I’m good,” you assure him. “You can move now—”

A second invisible chain snaps with a clink, and Yoongi launches into a thrust that has you seeing stars. You tumble through the dark as he thrusts again, mouth open with silent yells before you gnaw right into your lip.

“Relax for me,” he commands. “Just like that.”

Your cunt hugs him tight as you bounce even harder, his little grunts of praise making you mewl and whimper in bursts.

Fucking hell, this feels good.

You cannot wait to find out how it’ll feel when you piss him off.

His hands grip your hips, hosting you up onto his thighs as he thrusts hard into your cunt. Your body rocks in an arch, limp and at his mercy—which there is very little of. Enchanted, your lip tightens with the pull of your teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he feels so fucking good and hitting. Just. Right.

It all carries you so far gone that as soon as you feel a rush of air, the sting on your ass makes you react—piercing moan making both of you freeze.

And Yoongi’s eyes deepen a shade as he slowly grins. “There you go.”

“Don’t act like you—fuck!” His second swat has you grunting through your teeth, and his thrust forward at the same time he does it again has you whining. Monosyllabic, his name shoves out of your lungs, with each part more chipped than the next.

“What’s that, love?”

“Yoongi, please—”

“That’s right.” He clutches your sides so damn rough. “Say my fuckin’ name.”

And his pace pitches you into the sun, rocking so hard you won’t be surprised if the bed frame snaps in half. In thirds. In sevenths. Your legs go completely limp as he drives in, filling you and hitting a spot that pierces your eyes with stars and light and lust. Down down down you spiral, up up up you go. It’s only you and him now, with Yoongi plowing into you like his life ends come morning.

There’s nothing in the world that feels like this. Burdened by the dangerous weight of a man—this man—while feeling so light you could float? Absolutely nothing can compare.

Your body finally rests as he stops, but you get no breather as he flips you over with strong arms. Disoriented, you squeak as he tugs you backward, your ass rising in the air as your head is shoved into luxury cotton.

Sweet pain sears your ass again, and you gasp with wide eyes as you feel his cock at your entrance. “What are you—”

“Lift up. Higher.” He slides his dick up your folds. “You’re gonna like this.”

“You don’t speak for me—”

He thrusts into you as soon as you get accustomed to his length and size. And the place his thumb presses makes you scream into your pillow. His pillow. A hotel suite pillow that you’re biting to stay afloat.

How the fuck does that feel so good? How does all of this feel so good? His thumb on your asshole already has you melting, but the smacking of his sack against your clit makes you want to repent.

“So fucking—fuck.”

Drool strings from your mouth as your arms are tugged at the elbows, your whole upper body coming up for air. Precious precious air that’s cut off when Yoongi chokes you from behind.

“Yoo—!”

His strength slams your chest into the headboard, right at the edge of the bed before you feel the force of his palm hit the wall.

“What did I fucking say.”

“A lot.”

“I’m gonna hear you.”

“But—”

He shoves you flush against dark wood, your cheek smushing hard and your lips curling. “Let them hear you, too.”

You keep your moans muted until fingers are shoved down your throat. And you gargle until he yanks them out.

“That’s it. I know you can take it.”

“You’re easier…” Gritting your teeth in a smug grin, you taunt in a bold-faced lie, “Easier to take than I thought.”

His laughter is not lighthearted. “You’re still gonna go there, huh.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you pout, eyes drooping from the euphoric shocks his thrusts provide. Sweat rolls down your arms as you slip on the wall, but it gives your chest a cool surface to rest. “Go where?”

Suddenly, the grinding stops. And your cunt feels abandoned as he pulls out so fast. When you think to spin around, he spanks your ass with a harsh, “Don’t move.”

Do you want to disobey? Yes. But you’re more curious than anything, so do as he says.

And your eyes light up when you realize what he comes back with.

“Now… I could use this,,” he warns, pressing a silky smooth robe tie along your neck. “Since you don’t wanna behave.”

“Do it,” you taunt, wishing like hell that he does. Yes, yes, yes. You’re drunk on lust and volcanic want and you will fight for nothing more. “You won’t.”

Your neck is rocked back before you feel him slap your ass. “Then stay still.”

And you obey as you feel your belt—or his, either one—wrap loosely around your column before it’s tied.

Gently, your chin is turned, and you’re surprised when you’re met with stern eyes. “Can you breathe.”

Blinking, you nod. “Yeah, I can.”

“Two taps if you’re out, understand?”

“Yes.”

A swift pat to your cheek. “What’d I say.”

“Two taps,” you repeat, figuring out fast that you’re liking this development a little too much. “If I’m out.”

Holy fuck the yank you feel is exhilarating, your body bending back as shock overcomes your senses.

Lidded eyes staring down at yours, he vows, “You better make them count or we never do this again.”

“I will, I will,” you rasp out, breath still coming to you fine albeit a little more harshly. “I promise.”

“Good girl.”

Wait, did he say again?

As he slips right back inside, you lose all passing trains of thought. Cunt filled while his fingers clog your mouth makes you traverse to another plane. Every part of you, at his mercy—

Then he yanks you backward and all that mercy burns in the flames of heaven. Flocks to the clouds of hell.

The belt is completely taut as you succumb to his thrusts. Hard. Fast. Rough thrusts make you cry out as he toys with you, gravelly hums tumbling down your back as you arch for him. All the sounds you make echo throughout the room, a symphony of mewls and moans as Yoongi controls your every move.

“Take it.”

“Hmm?”

“You want it,” he repeats. “So take it.”

Oh. Oh, he wants you to—Oh.

You start moving back and forth, doing exactly as he says. Taking what’s yours for the night and shamefully not forever.

But it turns out it’s not enough because he tugs.

“Like you fucking mean it.”

Fuck.

Groaning, you move with more intention, sliding up and down his cock and feeling full every time. It feels good having control, you muse, and imagining him watching your debauchery turns you on that much more.

Your thrusts turn to rough slams, friction running fast while you chase it with all your strength. The groans you hear sound primal, hissed taunts egging you on.

“Guess you can listen after all.”

“Fuck you.”

Another hard yank.

Your laugh only spurns him on.

Slaps to your ass, grabs to your breasts. Yoongi is worshipping every inch of you and you won’t even notice this until nights later when you’re alone. You’ll remember the way he squeezes just right, the way he fits so well, the places he hits with no hesitation nor guesswork. It’s pure experience strangling you with passion and you don’t even know how to embrace it all.

But then you start to feel it. Your breath tapering. It’s getting harder and harder to suck in air and you’re starting to see stars across your eyes.

When you reach an alarming point, you quickly slap his leg twice, oxygen gushing into your lungs right as he lets go.

You almost come on that exhilaration alone. Adrenaline pumps pumps pumps into your veins, eyes blowing black as he spins you around.

Hot, open mouth kisses pepper your burning throat, and you have the nerve to catapult him all the way back onto the bed.

Yoongi lets you top him with a laugh, and you immediately use this opportunity to pin him down with a chokehold. Wanting him to feel the same way you just did. Knowing deep in your soul that he wants it, too.

“Cute.”

“You asshole.”

Holy fuck, you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse. It’s rugged.

It’s salacious.

He cocks a brow while peering down his nose. “You done?”

“What?” You blink. Slowly releasing his neck, you admit with a rasp, “No, that’s not what I.. I’m not done with you.”

Yoongi slides into a smirk, and you attempt to scoff with a burning throat.

You wanna tell him how good he is. How stupidly attentive he is. But all you settle for is something neutral. Safe. And maybe a little forward.

“Just felt like calling you that.”

Yoongi’s smile mellows into a line, and if you weren’t in such an evocative position, you would have thought it was genuine contemplation. But he slides hands up your thighs before slapping the side of your ass. “Get on.”

Fuck. You don’t really know how. At least, you don’t know how to do it without showing him you aren’t used to it.

So the confidence will keep getting faked. With a little help of your quick wit and tongue as you grab his length. “Didn’t hear a please.”

Yoongi huffs out amusement. “I don’t say that.”

His tip goes in fine. Fuck. Okay. You can do this you can do this. “Why am I not surprised—!”

He shoves you down as soon as you give him enough leeway, and you groan out as you catch yourself with hands on his chest.

“This is where you’re gonna live,” he says with confidence, laughing in condescension when you scowl. “Fuckin’ love it.”

He can’t say stuff like that.

You ride until you find a rhythm, rolling your body and finding the friction you want. It’s there for the taking. And he’s encouraging you with gravelly words and hums, with hands up your stomach and grasping your chest.

After a single swirl of your hips, he throws his bed back until his neck strains. “Fuck.”

So you take that cue, rotating between rides and swirls. When he tweaks and rolls thumbs around your nipples, you clench hard around him, and he does it until you moan to the ceiling.

A slap to your breast makes you whine, and you keep going before leaning forward, placing hands against his shoulders and bouncing your hips on his cock.

“—a fucking natural,” Yoongi praises, chuckling to himself as he toys with the silk streaming down your neck.

“Maybe I’ve just practiced.”

“Show me more then.”

Quickly, he tugs you down flush against him before grabbing your ass, slamming you down and pistoning up until you scream.

You start biting his shoulder to quell your shouts, which makes him moan loud enough to make you possessive. Wildly possessive. Before long, you feel yourself going limp on him, only for him, solely for his pleasure and yours.

“Just like that. There you go.”

You mewl into his skin as he grabs you, holding you down as he slams into you again and again and again. Drunk with power, you begin to mark his throat, devouring and feasting with reckless abandon.

Growling ragged, Yoongi flips your position and pins you face down, shoving up hard into your cunt before plowing. You fully lean into the yells now, saying his name and inching over the goddamn edge of the bed.

It’s there. Your release. It’s potent and it’s visceral and it’s everything you need need need—

“Yoongi, I’m close—”

He penetrates so far that you can taste him, and you come so harshly that you convulse. Squeezing like hell and quivering in a full body fold.

Holy shit, the screams. Is that you?

The sinister laughs of pride prove you right. “That’s my girl. Fucking scream.”

You can’t stop. All you know is extreme pleasure coursing through your veins, pulsing beautiful colors and making you arch like mad.

But you have more to handle. Yoongi prolongs your euphoria by yanking you back only to sink into you again, hands rubbing both nipples and tongue speaking deadly sins in your ear.

“You aren’t done,” he growls. “Lemme hear you again.”

“I can’t—”

“Liar.”

His name rips from your mouth as you surprise yourself, gushing around his length and squeezing in powerful pulses. Nothing exists. Nothing at all. Everything you know is a feeling, as vibrant and shimmering as the sun above your street back home.

All the heat you’ve ever felt coalesces along your skin, and the words whispered in your ear slide right down with your sweat. You aren’t quite sure what you hear. But judging by your preening, it has to be praise. Dirty, dirty, sinful praise.

When your limp weight is flipped, you allow your legs to be hoisted up with no resistance. Looking upward, you peel open lids to the equivalent of a king. A god. And your outright awe blocks your ears from catching what your dragon swears.

“—perfect,” he grits, inserting himself into your squelching folds. “Again.”

No fucking way you have more left in you. You’re already floating in the ether, buzzing in pleasure and sweat and ecstasy. If you come one more time you’ll be an empty shell.

“Earn it,” you boldly rasp out, grappling a bit of your spirit and reining it back one last time. “Take it, you bi—”

Your heart leaps up your throat as you’re pitched upward, groan serrated and high as you grin in triumph because it feels so fucking rewarding when he gives gives gives.

Letting everything go relaxes your folds, causing Yoongi to rock into you with pride and without resistance. His chain smacks against his pecs at the same pace as your bouncing chest, and you’re more than sure you’re gonna feel bruises on your legs where he sinks his claws.

Skin slapping skin. Mewls and gritted curses. Heady scent covers them all in a thick layer and you feel the light grow closer and closer, stronger this time than all the others before it. Why? Why do you know this one will pitch you over the edge for good?

Both of you may feel the same.

Because Yoongi suddenly shoves himself so far into you and presses his body flush against your shuddering shaking screaming form.

You pulse frantically around him, throat sore and ragged from your final cry as tears stream down your face. It feels so fucking gorgeous that it hurts, and you enter a plane so mystical it’s completely separate from your earthly vessel. The two of you become closer than one, and you feel Yoongi stutter in his groan before yanking out and ripping the condom off.

Hot spurts paint your skin—a sweaty, spent canvas that dips slow with your labored breaths. His own breathing is rough but not exhausted, and you chalk that up to the mountain of stamina and experience he has on you.

It’s done.

Thoroughly spent.

All the pent up emotions dissipate in a slow descent. The chaos of today finally lowers its head, your monsters making their ways back into their cages. Moonlight shines brighter. Fuller.

Illuminating a man in silver as he slowly heads into the bathroom.

Holy fuck. You just slept with a gangster. With a Dragon.

With Yoongi.

There’s no way you can forget this. No way you can see yourself moving past this moment, even years and lifetimes from now. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi never thinks about you again, because something transpired in this room that you’ll keep locked away in your soul forever.

As he brings back a towel to wipe his essence from your skin, you wonder.

Was it all worth it?

Or will this torture you in every dream you’ll ever have?

A palm digs into the mattress before you feel weight and jewelry. The silk around your throat is carefully undone, and lazy, heated lips descend on your neck once more.

Bliss.

Sighing, you utter his name much softer now, telling him please without knowing what for.

“What do you want,” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” you admit in a wisp.

Yoongi keeps worshipping your throat, and you mewl when he reaches to rub your breast in a slow squeeze. When you drag your hand down to grip his cock, he tenses with a gritty hum.

“Careful, love,” he rumbles. “There’s a lot more I can do with you.”

“Tell me.” Your breath starts shorting in anticipation. “Tell me everything.”

“Nah.” When he slides forward, the bare tip of him meets your cunt, causing you to flinch with a bitten lip. “You’re just gonna have to wonder. Day, after day, after day.”

Fuck this guy with the spite of a thousand lives. You’re the one holding his cock, so how the fuck is he still being this sure of himself?

“Put it in,” you blurt, earning his gaze of utter confusion.

“What?”

“Just for a second.” You stroke him, feeling slick velvet and wetness coating your fingers. “That’s the last thing I want.”

His eyes search yours, and for the first time tonight, he’s the one that looks hesitant. “You sure…?”

“We’ll never do this again,” you whisper. “And I know you want it, too.”

His gaze holds yours for a moment, searching your eyes for any sense of doubt.

When he finds none, Yoongi positions himself at your entrance, and you feel his knuckles brush your folds before he sinks in. Slowly, cautiously, extraordinarily.

And both of you groan so full.

“Fuck,” Yoongi glowers, teeth sharp as he grounds them hard. His arm veins strain, shifting all his ink in pretty ebbs and flows. All his stomach snaps taut, and you can’t look away from his sheer look of concentration and lust. “Fuck.”

“Feels so good,” you gasp, enjoying the way he’s slowly grinding against your walls. All the slick from your releases allows smooth strokes, and you already feel close for yet another time. An unbelievable amount of orgasm in such a short span. You’ll never reach this peak. Not with anyone else. “What the fuck, I’m close again—”

“Shit—”

It happens in a snap. But more of a mellowed, drawn-out river flow than a full waterfall. Your eyes slowly roll before closing, and your chest arches slow as you rock back and forth on his cock. The squeezes are harder. The pulses are fuller. You’re milking him for all he’s worth, like your cunt won’t let go until it’s pumped him dry.

Which makes Yoongi lose his absolute mind, hissing as he pulls out quick before spilling onto you all over again. Again?

Holy fuck, again?

As he groans up above, his eyes are wiped dark completely. Which makes you wonder how you can still see stars embedded inside.

Was it all worth it?

You’ve never been more achingly sure.

It’s a long shot to know if he feels the same. And an even longer one for that to truly be the case.

But it’s okay.

This is the first, the last, the only time you have. And it was more than you could’ve ever asked for.

As he falls into the sheets next to you, both of you exhale harsh, hearts pounding and pounding into the bed and to the ceiling.

You can’t even move. Every single limb is sore from base to tip, and the door looks so, so far away.

When you whisper his name, you get a little acknowledgement at your side. Gathering all the strength you have left, you whisper,

“I know this is when I’d be kicked out, but.. I can’t move.”

The small puff of air you get in return sounds like a yes. But you aren’t sure until Yoongi verbally gives you a real answer,

“S’ok.”

All you can do is hum, noticing with a sharp pang that you feel soft towel wipes before the smooth slide of sheets up your bare skin.

“Just stay on your side.”

Ah.

Well. At least you aren’t alone for a night.

“And you.. Stay on yours,” you murmur, darkness seeping into your peripherals.

“Mm.”

Yoongi can be as cold and heartless and calculating as he wants. But you know he’s more than what he shows.

Because with a second sharp hit to the chest, you also realize the side you’re on is the side he was on before. He’s not gonna make you move just to keep his preference.

Don’t think too much about it. Do not.

“I wish everything was different,” you whisper, drifting into a dreamless sea. “I don’t want to hate you...”

Your forehead is swept by a warm hand. You cannot lift your lids any longer, but your ears still hang onto their efforts.

And the last thing you hear before succumbing to the dark is a lighter flick and a fact. A cold, expected, damning fact.

“You’ll always hate me.”

When you wake, you’re greeted by the same room you fell asleep in.

Sunlight cuts through grey skies to shine every surface, and you breathe in a musky, comforting scent as you stretch your limbs.

Did last night really happen?

The soreness between your bare legs is more than enough to prove so.

Slowly turning, you whisper to Yoongi that you’re ready to go when he is.

Only to find out that you’re talking to no one.

Shit.

Shooting up, you start to panic. Maybe he’s in the living room already? Getting ready to call someone to bring you back home?

Glancing at the nightstand on his side, you don’t spot the dagger he gifted you, brain grappling with what that could possibly mean.

Your ribs crackle when you bite back emotion. It’s all over.

Shifting back to swing your feet onto cold fibers, you pause with swimming eyes.

Because the blade rests ready on your nightstand, propped on a set of plain clothes in the perfect position you would need it to be.

Teeth clenched and eyes burning, you swipe it before rushing out of bed, head pulsing and a dull ache between your legs. “Fuck..”

The shirt and pants you’re given don’t exactly fit, but you’ll take what you can get as you punch limbs through long sleeves and high pants.

Yoongi isn’t here.

You feel it in your whole being, and you have no fucking clue why it hurts.

But if he’s not here…

Who do you start to hear outside the door?

You freeze, lungs expanding as you hold multiple breaths.

It sounds like talking. But also a myriad of sounds?

Heading into the bathroom, you silently glide across the floor before swiping up the chopsticks. Because yes, you’re still gonna save them. For defence. For keepsakes. For a grave reminder.

Tucking them in a pocket, you ready your dagger under your garment, pressing it flat against your skin like you were trained to do.

Slipping out into the hallway, you hear the sounds clearer. Movement. Slides of furniture.

What the hell is going on?

You’re about to retreat back into the room when a man crosses in front of the hall.

And his hair is strikingly…

Orange?

As he catches you in his vision, he stops on a dime, hand outstretched in greeting. “Hello!”

Your step back makes him laugh. But you’re not laughing in the slightest as you question,

“Where’s.. Where’s Agust?”

“Gone.” The smile spreading makes you squint. “Need to see him?”

Your answer is immediate.

“I’d rather die.”

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: alright before i say anything else: use the bathroom after sex, and especially after doing it unprotected!! i normally include it so this is a rare exception. but yes. please use the bathroom after, and practice safe sex always! a/n 2: WHO COULD THAT BE AT THE END THERE... ahahah but seriously, i for one am still swirly eyed just thinking about what's coming for these two.. they have no idea what's in store and i'm itching to get the next part done! a/n 3: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ minted masterlist

#FINALLY FINALLY #5000 words in two days just wanted to say i love y'all #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #ryenwrites #minted #minted3 #*ryenfictalk #*latest

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sheep-from-rad · 13 days ago

Note

About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Titling this as 'Batfam trying to reintegrate themselves back to reader's life'

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out.

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred.

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends.

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

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cutehoons02 · 18 days ago

Text

Would you like to recreate with me these spicy scenes?

University series: Heeseung Jungwon

*pairing: pervy roomate Jake x vlogger/youtuber Girl

*trope: roomates to lovers

*synopsis: What if your nosy roommate named Jake Sim found a pack of Amazon and inside were "spicy" books you need to read and review on various social platforms? A disaster. Jake is the perfect roommate but underneath he’s a pervert and thanks to these books he has the chance to tease you, to poke you with his double-sided jokes and maybe give in to his advances.

*tags: A lot of tension, pervy Jack, a lot of humor, teasing, fluffy, kissing, sucking, mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) minor don't interect +18, fingering, masturbation, cunt slapping,cowgirl, reproduction of sex scenes from a book invented by me, pet names (spicygirl, goodgirl) (golden retriever boy,pervy) jealousy, possession

(English is not my native language)

11k (🤍)

Having Jake as a roommate is not bad for you, he cooks when he has time for delicious dishes, respects the rules of washing dishes and cleaning the house, and always leaves his unmistakable scent of spicy but sweet tenor throughout the home. The only thing you can’t stand about him is how nosy he is in things that should not interest them, as it happened at this exact moment but let’s understand Jake is called by his friends "Golden retriever boy" and it’s in his nature to be curious...

Jake had just returned from the gym, still slightly sweaty, with his hair all messed up and a shirt he’d left on the couch as soon as he walked through the door. He was wandering around the living room with his protein smoothie in hand when he noticed an Amazon package on the coffee table, it was written that it was for Y/n but he was now used to discarding the gifts that made you the brands you worked with and each time he found: makeup, skincare, accessories and scented candles. He knew that it bothered you slightly when opening your things before you but by now you had made a habit of it, it was almost a year that you shared the apartment with that guy with the nerd and studious appearance but who also loved to have fun; He was very curious to see what was in that package and when he opened it he found 3 books, men perfect with bare chest but with masks on their face, women posing as languid and titles that seemed like they had come out of a fanfiction contest.

«The masked devil? Wait, what is this?» Jake raised an eyebrow, flipping through the pages. But it did not stop there now on Tik Tok you could find everything and you were a vlogger but you also talked about books in the #Booktok, he searched for the title of this to find out more and found himself catapulted into a universe of videos with animated reviews and quotes... spicy. This book was meant for an almost adult audience and when he saw the aesthetics he realized that it was about 4 guys who were called the "dark devils" and they all had 4 books with their respective "love stories" if you could call them so, But his curiosity hit him even more when he saw that only in a book there were a huge amount of spicy scenes and dirty settings where the protagonists did their thing.

«Wow, who would have thought that the literature student and vlogger with more than 500 thousand followers read this kind of stuff.» He said with a mischievous grin, starting to read one of the boldest scenes aloud for pure fun and to understand why TikTok videos had more than half a million likes.

Just then, you were coming back from your creative writing course at the university. You were wearing a light leather jacket over a plain top and faded jeans, but you stopped suddenly when you saw Jake on the couch. He was without his shirt where you could see all the well-defined muscles of the several hours he spent training and your eyes went down where you saw the V line where there were his Calvin Klein boxer shorts, wearing just a pair of sports pants and...nerd glasses? That made him even sexier and more innocent than the little innocent Jake could have; with a book in his hands, He was reading with an almost academic concentration the book that had sent you the publishing house to read and then to review in your various social platforms.

"What are you doing?!" you yelled in panic with your cheeks slightly red for the situation, while your eyes passed from the book to your roommate half-god and half-nerd.

Jake looked up slowly as if he had been caught in the act but with a smile so disarming that he seemed innocent.

«Oh, welcome back, Y/n, or maybe I should call you SpicyGirl from today. Is this your book?» asked, lifting the book to show you the cover with an inquiring air. «Interesting choice of readings, who would have ever thought that a literature student was encouraged to read these dirts, I thought you only read authors like Dante or Shakespeare that is a little more modern!»

You brought your hands to your face, blushing visibly.

You brought your hands to your face, blushing visibly. "But how dare you open my packages?! Give me back that book now! It’s the thousandth time I tell you that I don’t want you to open my packages and every time I come home like a puppy looking for something to snoop on you make other things"

Jake stood up, still holding the book. Wait, wait, you can’t leave me in the middle. The protagonist was going to do something with one of those riders in a pool and had just come to the description... ehm, graphic. You know, this stuff is instructive. Really.»

"Instructive?!" You went to him, trying to grab the book, but Jake raised his arm above his head, keeping it out of his reach. He was taller than you and with that cheeky little smile, he looked at your head to head and saw how red you were both because of the situation in the book but also because you were way too close and he: He wore only a pair of sweatpants and had his toned and sculpted physique.

«Well, yes» he continued with a sneaky smile. «I didn’t expect that Miss Vlogger, where you put all the colorful, cute videos of your trips with your friends had such a dark side... Dark romance, huh? I bet the next package when they see you have reviewed these things will be full of sex toys...?»

You hit him lightly on the chest. " If you don’t give me back the book right away, I swear that I’ll make you appear in one of my vlogs dressed as a character from Bridgerton and you know that I’m not kidding Jake"

Jake laughed, finally lowering the book to hand it. «Okay, okay, here it is, SpicyGirl. But I must say that now i'm curious. Why is a girl all cardigan, always nice, composed, and vlog read stuff so...spicy?»

Took the book with a quick gesture from Jake’s hand trying to regain composure.

"For your information, i'm an eclectic reader, this saga is the saga of the moment on Booktok and they sent me the first 3 books to read, sponsored them, and gave us a detailed review. And you’re a pervert! Next time, leave my packages alone."

Jake falls back on the couch and stretches a little with his hair slightly fluffy and that perverted smile, leaning on the armrest «Sure, sure. But you know,» he said with his head down, «if you need someone to discuss your... readings with, I’m here. That’s why we’re roommates, right? Helping each other, sharing moments of no and fun together!»

You were about to go to your room with the book in your chest. " Not even for an idea, i will share with you what i think of these books, if you are curious you will look at the review that i will publish in a couple of days. And put on a shirt, every time i see you you’re always half naked!"

«You say it, SpicyGirl, and stop being a saint in your books there are more scenes where the protagonists are naked than anything else, and don’t tell me that you don’t like what you see» Screamed Jake as you slammed the door of your room with all red cheeks but with a funny smile.

You were lying on the bed with the book in your hands. You agreed to review the novel at the request of your followers for weeks now, your fyp was flooded with videos on this book but you could not concentrate: each chapter was more intense than the previous one, and the idea of having to tell everything in front of a camera made you uncomfortable. You had already reviewed the romance with spicy scenes and you had no problems but it was the first time you were inspired by dark romance. Meanwhile, Jake was in his room playing online video games with Heeseung.

Jake was chuckling as he pressed the buttons on his controller "Dude, you’re dead for the fifth time. Your team will hate you."

Heeseung puffed in the voice chat << Ah, forget it. My head is elsewhere. My girlfriend is on the sofa reading a book... way too exciting and spicy. Yesterday while we were dining he made me see and read some scenes that there are in this saga of "devils" or "demons" with masks >>

Jake pauses, interested in the words of Heeseung. "Book? Wait... what kind of book?"

Heeseung laughed << You know, one of those super-popular dark romances on TikTok. With sensual covers, devils or demons, forbidden passion, blah blah. She’s obsessed with these things lately, when Cheerleader finishes training she eats and then she gets next to me while I play video games and she reads those books >>

Jake looked at Hee with a surprised expression "Wait a second. It’s called "The Masked Devil"?

Heeseung looked at Jake surprised << Yes, that’s it! How do you know?

Jake chuckled between himself and "Let’s say fate has made me read it. Y/n has to review it and by chance, the other day happened in my hand and I read some scenes. But... doesn’t it bother you that your girlfriend reads these things? I mean, don’t you feel... boh, competitive?"

Heeseung laughed openly << Competition? No, on the contrary! Sometimes we take inspiration from those scenes. You are pleased, and to me... well, it does not matter at all, do not take me for crazy but those scenes are described in detail that it is not difficult to be wrong and it is exciting >>

Jake looked at the gamer with surprise "Get a lead, huh? Like... replicates between you two?"

Heeseung laughed at Jake’s interest. << Exactly. Trust me, it works. >>

Jake leaned against the back of his chair, and some naughty thoughts began to spin in his head. The idea of you reading the same book strikes him differently now. He can’t help but imagine you in one of those scenes: vulnerable, passionate, completely lost in a moment of desire, and a mischievous spark illuminates his gaze.

"Interesting. Very interesting, Heeseung"

<< Why do you have that voice? What are you thinking? >>

Jake with an innocent smile took off his headphones "Nothing, nothing. Just... taking mental notes, you know how it is."

"Jake, whatever you’re thinking, i don’t want to know."

Jake closes the chat and leans to his desk. He looks at the wall that divides his room from yours. He can’t get the idea of recreating one of the scenes in that book out of his head. Not for someone else, but with you. A possessive desire creeps into him, making it difficult to ignore that thought.

You, unaware of Jake’s thoughts, continue reading. You were completely immersed in a particularly intense scene with your face flushed. Your door was ajar. Jake, coming out of his room on the pretext of going to the kitchen, noticed the light on and felt the silence coming from your room. Curiosity devours him. He approached slowly, peeking through the crack.

You were reading quietly and underlining the book a scene "Her hands wrapped around her life, pressing it against the wall with an intensity that made her tremble, N/t was now lost to S/b and S/b began to torture his neck and after a while kissed her with a dominant intensity..."

Jake opens his eyes wide, trying to hold back a laugh. He steps back and hands his hair. The sight of you so immersed affects him more than he wants to admit. Here comes an unhealthy idea: to provoke you and push the game a little further.

You went down in a cuina ready to make yourself a tea. Jake is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a casual look, but his eyes betray a mischievous spark.

Jake looked at you with a clever smile «Oh, but look who is the queen of reading. You like that boy disguised as a devil, eh»

You looked up and looked bad Jake "I’m working. It’s for the vlog and the book review of the month"

«Sure, sure. I work hard, I guess. That "pressing her against the wall with intensity" is pure literary analysis, isn’t it?»

"Did you spy again?" You felt your cheeks warm up and your hands on the cup became stronger and stronger because you were slightly angry with Jake, he raised his hands in surrender, but without losing his smile «No, no! You read aloud. And anyway, you should be careful with scenes that are so... engaging. You might inspire someone to emulate them.»

You looked at him exasperated but above all embarrassed " Stay away from my books. And my private life, Jake.

Jake came up with a playful look, lowering his voice and putting his head against your shoulder as you were turned around to not show how embarrassed I was but also to put sugar in your tea «I promise nothing, SpicyGirl. You know, you might be more interesting than I thought... especially if you keep giving me ideas like this...creative.»

The atmosphere in the Humanities department was lively as never before. In the corridors, students and teachers discussed the literary phenomenon of the moment: The masked devil. Some professors complained indignantly, calling the book an "insult to trees sacrificed in vain". Others, on the other hand, defended it enthusiastically, claiming that finally the general public could "explore the nuances of human desire".

You were in the middle of this chaos. You heard some of your friends talk about the book with excitement as Heeseung’s girlfriend, while others dismissed it as "pornography disguised for a sex-obsessed audience.

You didn’t want to look like a goody-two-shoes woman because you weren’t, you had also had half-adventures with some guys but you never tried certain things on the other hand, you didn’t want to rediscover as one who was excited only by reading a book and that you would want to redo all the scenes like a lot of girls but also boys wanted to do them with their partners

Lily: Y/n, when is your review coming out? I want to know what you think!

Sunaa: I read the book and I bet you’ll hate it. It’s too "spicy" for you.

Instagram follower (DM): "Y/n, please tell me you love the masked Devil! 😍 I want to know everything about that book and what you think, I bet you’ll like the second book too!"

The pressure was growing. Your agency had also sent several messages, pressing for a quick release of the video. You felt choked: if you said that you liked the book, some of your followers would judge you badly; if you criticized it, you would lose credibility with your audience. Why did you start reviewing books? you loved reading but this seemed so strained...

You were walking back and forth, biting your fingernail and clenching the book. Jake was in his room playing play. You heard the classic sounds of the joystick and the game in the background and some chuckle: he was probably talking to his friends Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon.

You take a deep breath and you know it was a bad idea, but you head to Jake’s room. Knocking quietly, almost hoping he can’t hear you but after a few seconds you hear Jake yelling «Come in».

You slowly opened the door and found him: lying in bed with a sweatshirt almost untied where you could see his toned body, pants of the suit, slightly wet hair because he had just taken a shower, with the nerd glasses intent on throwing some squints with a smile that lit up the whole room while maneuvering the joystick.

She leaned against the back of the bed «Y/n, my favorite roommate. What can I do for you?»

"I need... a favor," you said timidly

«I’m all ears, tell me what you need, Spicygirl.»

"The favor would be...this book." You showed him the book you had in your hand and Jake made a mischievous little sissy

«Oh, that book. Finally, you’re here to admit that you liked it?» You saw him pull himself up from the bed and sit down while he waved to you, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you went slightly embarrassed to sit down, always keeping a distance from him.

"That’s not the point. I need... help to figure something out."

Jake looked at you with a clever smile «I’m all ears.»

"The... you know, the... the "spicy ones." I wonder if... if they’re realistic or not."

God, you were so embarrassed to look at him that you looked at the floor

Jake almost choked on laughter as he heard what you just said «Wait, wait. Do you want me, your lovely roommate, to help you find out if the scenes in that book are replicable?»

"Yes. It’s business, Jake. My followers are expecting an authentic review and i would like to see if those attitudes or scenes can be recreated, some of my friends have recreated them with their boyfriends" you said whispering but Jake had heard you carefully

«So you want to do... field research with me? in plain words would you like to recreate it with me spicy scenes?»

"Don’t say that! You make me sound weird. I don’t have so many male friends, most of them are engaged or I know, I don’t have all this confidence instead you and I have lived together for almost a year and under I trust you, Jake"

Jake’s heart lost some beats when he felt that underneath you trusted him and with his usual golden retriever expression raised his hands in surrender and smiled at you «Ok, okay. Sorry. So, what are you thinking? A particular scene?»

"Maybe the one about kissing against the wall that you heard or stared at the other day" Jake laughed and got up from bed and you did the same thing. Jake approaches slowly, the smile becomes sweeter but with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

«Do you want to recreate the whole scene or what do I know only while I push you against the wall and then give you a little kiss?»

"I think... I think I want to recreate the whole scene"

«Perfect. For the sake of science, let’s see if we can replicate the magic.»

He comes even closer, putting a hand gently on your shoulder.

«Are you sure you can handle me, Y/n? You know maybe you could find out that I’m better than that guy with the devil mask»

"I want to find out," Jake, you said looking him in the eye

Jake laughs, surprised by your answer, and stops for a moment.

«Mmm Y/n, you are more brave than I thought.»

"Please Jake, don’t laugh ok, we have to be professional"

«Laughing? Y/n, this is the most exciting moment of like Weekend!.»

Jake slowly approaches, putting his hand on the wall next to your head, and slightly pushes you with his body against his wall studded with posters of videogames and artists he loved. His breath is mixed with yours, and for a moment no one speaks. Then, with a gentle but decisive movement, it leans slightly at the level of your neck and begins to leave you small skin-hugging kisses above the lobe of your ear, At the neck up to go near your slightly noticeable shoulder blades thanks to the top cardigan you wore. You felt one of his big hands slightly clench a side to get even closer to him and when he heard that you were relaxing he started to torture the part of your neck leaving some kisses but at the same time left some small bites and sucked slightly the part Exposed of your neck gently. It was not rushed or exaggerated, but there was a controlled passion, almost as if Jake himself trying to interpret the scene of the book perfectly.

Little moans leave your lips shaking as Jack kept leaving a trail of light-feathery kisses along your neck and at the same time sucking and biting you slightly «God you have a delicious scent,spicygirl»

You detached yourself slightly from him and had no problem getting close to him and catching your lips with his. You were curious to hear how it was to have his soft lips around you, you felt Jake smile in the kiss when you started to return. It makes you feel bad but at the same time, it makes you feel good. And all this was supposed to be for science only, right?

Jake sticks his tongue in your mouth, eager to explore every crack as he had wanted to do for a while, ever since he first saw you walk into the apartment where you were supposed to live together.

The kiss was absolutely perfect and after a while, you broke off and there before you was Jake smiling at you and bringing a small lock of hair around your ear, it was too nice to be true with his hair ruffled, Lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and cheeks flushed.

«Here. Some scenes can be replicated without effort,» he said with a swaggering smile and strayed slightly away from you

"Yes, you’re right," You said looking at him as he lay down in his bed again

«If you need extra help for the sequel or other chapters, you know where to find me, spicygirl!»

You were sitting in your video corner, with the book in your hands. The camera is on, and the smile you show is the professional one of always, but there’s a streetlight of uncertainty in your eyes. The soft lighting of the set makes the atmosphere cozy.

"Hi everyone, here i’m with the review of the "Masked Devil".

The chat is immediately filled with comments from waiting followers, some asking for the most spicy details others are curious if you liked it or not.

"It’s a book... intense, I would say. Very passionate, with scenes that will certainly not leave indifferent and with much tension between the two protagonists.

You avoid going into details and it’s strange because your reviews are always so exhaustive, just describing the plot and your appreciation for the characters. But you never say what struck you the most.

Follower 1: "Y/n tell us the truth, did you like the Devil with the red mask?!"

Follower 2: "Don’t be vague, we want to know the hot scenes, which ones you liked the most, and which ones you would like to replicate in the future with your partner!"

You laugh nervously when you read the hundreds of comments you were getting "Girls, let’s just say that the red-masked Devil knows how to get attention, okay? I can’t say more, but I recommend you to read it if you are curious and you can also tell me what you liked"

The video ends with you smiling, but you know that you have not fully met your audience’s expectations. However, the vlog makes a boom of views: comments are divided between those who adore you for your class also because not all your audience is over age and those who criticize you for being too vague.

You wake up the next morning with the continuous sound of notifications on your phone. Blinking, you reach out and grab your phone. The screen is full of comments on Instagram, TikTok and YouTube.

Follower 1: "Y/n, the review was nice, but we want to know about SECOND BOOK! 😍

You sighed, with a hand in your messy hair.

You would go through the DM until you find a voice message from T/n, Heeseung’s girlfriend.

T/N (voice message): "Y/n, I saw your vlog! You were too shy, girl. I already read the second book, and trust me, it’s EVEN better. Certain scenes... wow. I’m just telling you that i and Heeseung tried the one on the kitchen table was so exciting😏"

You dropped your phone on the bed and the cheeks immediately inflamed.

You laughed a moment when you read that T/n message "On the kitchen table?! But they’re crazy!"

You can’t stop thinking about the fact that you and Jake only had a duplicate kiss, yet the effect on you was... devastating. The situation was definitely getting out of hand.

Jake was sitting on the couch, fiddling with not much belief on the phone. He had spent the whole afternoon trying to ignore that review video you had made, which kept walking around campus. " Be more yourself", "Y/n you have to tell us which parts you would like to replicate with your partner", "Y/n, in the second book you have to be more exhaustive because it is even hotter and we want to know what scenes you liked and didn’t." The comments were all like that, and Jake was wondering what it meant. She was already perfect as she was, damn it.

He was about to put the phone away when he heard footsteps on the floor and when he looked up what he saw left him breathless.

«What the hell»

You were standing there, by the door of the apartment. You wore a dress that looked sewn on you, a gift from some brand that wanted to exploit your image as a micro-influencer. The soft fabric embraced every curve, with a hint of a neckline that suggested more than it showed, while the side slit revealed an unexpected boldness. The hair was arranged in light waves, the makeup just mentioned, but enough to make you look even more luminous.

Jake swallowed, feeling his heart fail. Damn... he’s trying to kill me.

You stopped surprised by his reaction. It wasn’t the first time he saw you in a dress and you sunk at him with an innocent smile, but also a little amused.

"What? Don’t you like the dress?"

Jake got up from the couch, his hand in his hair, visibly agitated. His gaze glided over you, scanning you from head to toe. You were gorgeous, perfect, and... too provocative to go out like that, at least according to him.

«Y/n, can’t... I mean, do you really think you’re going out like this? This little dress doesn’t even cover your thighs completely, not to mention your bare back» he said with tight teeth, trying to keep calm

"Why not? It’s a dress given by the brand that sponsors the event. Must wear it, Jake and then at these events are all dressed in dresses like this"

Jake approached you, with a look that oscillated between frustrated and possessive.

Jake said in a low, rock-like voice, I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, because you are. Too beautiful. That’s the problem. I don’t want others to look at you as I am looking at you now.» You looked at him, surprised by his words. You didn’t expect such a strong reaction from him and you felt his cheeks blush, but you tried to stay calm.

"Jake, you’re impossible. And anyway, it’s not like everyone is looking at me."

Jake stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them. His smile grew more cheeky.

Oh, baby, they will. Trust my words but remember one thing Y/n,... Whoever is watching you tonight, I’m the only one who knows what it’s like to kiss you, and who could be better than that masked devil.»

You stared at him, eyes wide open and the heart beating wildly. You did not answer but Jake noticed the slight flickering of your lips and with a grin he walked away from you or else he was convinced that he would take you and lock you in his room and leaned back to the sofa, taking a deep breath.

«Go, go. Have fun. But not too much, eh?»

You shook your head, trying to ignore the heat that had taken hold of you. I took my bag, taking a last look at Jake before leaving.

"Don’t worry, golden retriever. I’ll be back safe." You said slightly laughing

Jake watched you disappear through the door with your heart still beating wildly. Golden retriever? He thought to himself, if he would find out what his sick mint was thinking about you with that succinct little dress you wouldn’t call him much Golden Retriever but something darker than maybe only in the books was described. But within him, his darker and more possessive side whispered: Safe and sound, yes. But you’re still mine and sooner or later your body will be mine.

Jake lay on the couch, PlayStation controller in his hands. He had just finished a game session with the boys, but instead of feeling tired, he was more agitated than ever. Every time he looked down at his phone, he hoped to see a notification: a message, a photo, something but nothing. He saw that you had posted stories while dancing with other girls while drinking a drink, and the photo of the place where you could see all Seoul.

His brain was a mixture of images: You in that breathtaking dress, your soft hair moving when you laughed, and that cheeky confidence he carried with him... mixed with his usual shyness. It was a dangerous cocktail that made him crazy.

To distract himself, Jake opened TikTok. He was streaming video to video, but his algorithm seemed to decide to torture him with clips of girls reviewing spicy books.

"If you loved the first book in this series, wait until you read the second. It’s even more spicy and intense."

Jake got stuck.

"Wait a minute..."

He rose from the couch, walking slowly towards the bookcase. There, tucked between a book and some university textbooks, was the second volume of that cursed saga. He took it in hand, studying the cover with a raised eyebrow.

"More intense than the first, huh? As if Y/n hadn’t already gone into tilt with that."

She couldn’t resist. She sat down at the kitchen table, opening the book in the chapter where the girl who had made the tik tok suggested a scene to how spicy. It was enough to read a few paragraphs to make him lift his eyes, almost incredulous.

"What the hell... this second masked devil doesn’t joke, he’s even more deranged and perverted than the first?"

Each page he browsed was more explicit than the previous one. Scenes of seduction, desire, and dialogue that seemed written to make anyone blush. Jake found himself biting the inside of his cheek, imagining Y/n reading these things.

He ran his hand through his hair, letting herself go against the back of the chair.

"And I thought the first one was too much for her. This will blow up."

But then, a new idea came into his head. Maybe... maybe Y/n would need help to deal with it. He had already had difficulties with the first one, even asking him to replicate some scenes to better understand. With the second book, the situation would be more intense.

A slow smile formed on his lips.

"I think your golden retriever is still available, Y/n."

He decided to close the book before letting go of too many dangerous thoughts. He put it back in its place, but could not shake the images that the words had evoked. God, there were scenes where he made his beloved feel good by fucking her with his fingers in a pool, against the wall of a theater that was not banned he was fucking or there was also a scene of two boys and a girl, who had definitely closed the book and started laughing.

When the clock was at one o'clock, Jake was still awake. He had read a couple of physics chapters to distract herself, then spent another ten minutes watching TikTok tutorials for a new skincare routine. But every now and then his thoughts would go back there, to Y/n, to the book, and to the night they shared that kiss.

Heard the apartment door open. Jake stood up and dropped his physics book on the table. His heart was beating fast you had no idea how long he’d stayed awake just to make sure I’d come back safe.

And above all... to understand how the hell he would deal with that cursed book.

You looked at him surprised when you saw Jake in his pajamas and his nerd glasses and there was a book of physics on the couch. "Are you still awake?"

Jake didn’t answer immediately. He came up to you without even thinking about it and hugged you. His arms closed around you in an instinctive gesture as if he wanted to make sure that you were really there, safe and sound; and that no boy had touched you. You stiffened for a moment, surprised by that gesture but then you released against his comfortable chest and Jake inspired your delicious scent of cherry and vanilla that every time he felt it went crazy. But just when the hug could become sweet and reassuring, his most possessive and provocative part came out. He looked away slightly, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised and a small grin that had formed on his lips.

«So? How was the evening?»

"It was a fantastic evening" I replied by sitting next to him. Crossing their legs and setting the hem of the dress aware of Jake’s gaze. "There were so many people! And I met the writer of "The Masked Devil". He even told me that he saw some of my reviews and in particular the one I put on his book a few days ago."

Jake tilted his head and looked at you. «What do you think? Does she like them?»

"Yes, she liked it. But..." you nibbled on your lip. "She said I should be more specific. You know, especially in the scenes... those more... spicy scenes. Now even the little girls are curious to know what it’s like to have experiences like this with boys and some scenes can be recreated as we did with the kiss that we gave each other..."

Jake smiled when he heard you talking about the kiss as you had enjoyed it too and surely thought of it much more than you should think.

«Have you already started the second book of the saga?»

You’re just getting stiff. "Yes... but I’m only at the beginning," you said avoiding your gaze.

«Oh yes?» Jake raised an eyebrow. «And where did you stop? By chance...» He paused dramatically, giving a sneering smile. «Did you stop at the scene where the Masked Devil makes his beloved feel good with his fingers? His fingers moved slowly, precisely, touching every nerve as if he knew my body better than I did. But after a while, he put another finger inside me and started pumping and cumming them and at that moment I lost my head. I don’t remember the words very well but in practice was that the scene true, Y/n?»

You looked at him shocked and your cheeks became even redder. "Jake! You... did you read where I stopped?" Your voice was a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. "I told you not to touch my things!"

«I couldn’t resist» he admitted, laughing. «And then, admit it is an interesting scene.» He approached your body, his smile became more mischievous. «Would you... replicate it with me?»

You hit him again on the arm, but this time with more force. " You’re so perverted Jake, it’s not because we kissed now you want to replicate all those scenes"

Jake laughed, the sound deep and sincere. «Come on, I was joking!» Then he bowed his head, staring at you with a look that had a shadow of seriousness. «But if I wanted...I would be there.»

Jake got up and went to his room to start getting ready for bed with a little grin. Your heart was beating fast, and the room suddenly seemed smaller and you finally went to your room as well as your refuge but the writer’s words kept echoing in your head. "A girl like you should be more thorough. Maybe... try things too, to really understand how to tell them."

It was a tip that made you blush to the ears. You, try those things? You weren’t that kind of girl. You were shy but at the same time extroverted with people you knew and preferred to explore the world through book pages, not replicate scenes. Yet... Jake had shown you that some things weren’t so impossible.

You sat on the bed, staring at the floor. "Is it feasible? Can I do that?" You asked biting your lower lip. In the end, you sighed If you had to choose someone to try with, Jake was the perfect person. He was spontaneous and playful, and his protective side the golden retriever always made you feel comfortable, even when he acted slightly perverted or when he replied with double-sided answers.

While you were thinking, you heard the sound of water flowing from the bathroom. You got up without even thinking about it, still in the short dress you had worn for the event, and opened the bathroom door.

Jake was there, as every night, brushing his teeth. Bare-chested, low-waisted pajamas, and that air of not knowing how attractive he was. When he saw you coming in, he raised an eyebrow, the toothpaste popping out of his mouth in a funny smile.

«Hey,» he muttered, his voice slightly kneaded as he spoke with the toothbrush in his mouth. «What are you doing here? Do you need a mirror?»

You crossed your arms trying to mask the nervousness. "No, I just... wanted to talk about something."

Jake flushed his mouth and wiped himself with a towel, then turned to you with a disarming smile. «Talk? To me? At this time? It must be important.»

You avoided his gaze, staring at the sink. "I was thinking... of the book. The second book of The Masked Devil. "

Jake leaned on the furniture, crossing his arms over his chest. «Ah yes? The scene of the fingers, right?» he asked, in a mischievous tone.

You looked up, blinking him with your eyes. "Jake, stop."

Jake stared at you, the smile slowly spreading as the meaning of his words became clear to him. «Oh, I understand.» He stepped towards you, his eyes twinkling with fun mixed with something deeper. «Would you... repeat that scene with me?»

"I just want to see if... it’s feasible. Like in the book."

Jake came closer again, his body so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. «And what part of the book do you want to replicate exactly?»

He asked, his voice becoming lower, almost a whisper. «The one where he makes her crazy with his fingers?»

Swallow with your heart pounding in her chest. "I don’t know," you replied, trying to keep my voice still. " It depends... on you, would you be willing or not?."

Jake tilted his head, looking at you with an enigmatic smile. Then he raised a hand and gently placed it on your side, sliding his thumb along the edge of the dress. «I am always available for you,Y/n» he said, the tone was playful but with a shadow of seriousness. «You must tell me. I won’t do anything you don’t want and if you feel uncomfortable just tell me and I’ll stop.»

"Thank you, Jake. Can we read it together for a moment and then replicate it?" Jake nodded yes and you went to your room and sat down, you with the book in hand and Jake beside you reading things under his voice did the devil masked with his girlfriend.

«Lie down Y/n, legs slightly on the edge of the bed.» You sat down as Jake suggested and felt his big venous hands between your hips pulling you slightly between the edge of the bed and gently but also slightly with possession Jake pushed up your dress lightly around your hips until he saw Your black thong and innately thoughts invaded his head. «You know that this is not a real game for me, Y/n?» Said yes with my head knelt slightly looked at the thong and said something you would not have imagined that sweet Golden Retriever nerd version had told you.

«Who would have thought that the good girl who does vlogger wear a thong also to go to an event of only influencers? Don’t tell me you’re a good girl because to my mind you seem a little slut who absolutely wants my attention and who asks shyly to be able to recreate some dirty scenes that you read in those books but now you’ll get it»

You heard Jake give you little kisses where there was that little layer of cloth and for you, it was a real torture because his hands were around your knees and he didn’t move them at all to put them in your already slightly wet pussy.

"Jake, please" Jake laughed at your insolence, where was the shy girl who filmed funny vlogs or who got embarrassed while reading those spicy parts in the book?

A hand of his slowly began to rise up to your thigh and his mouth started giving you small kisses around your buttocks, he bit slightly on your thighs to feel your sighs become more and more needy.

«Use your mouth to tell me what to do, baby, if you don’t tell me what to do I’ll stand there all night driving you crazy. You read what the masked devil was doing to his girlfriend a few minutes ago so, speak, Y/n» You took his defiant look and raised your eyes, slightly pulled your hair, and said: "Touch me please" Jake laughed because he wanted to ruin you.

«You have to be more specific»

"Oh my god, stop doing that to me. Touch me where you kissed me before you started torturing my buttocks" Jake was literally testing you and loved to see that underneath you were definitely a good girl because you didn’t want to say the word "pussy". When he pulled down your thong your clitoris was already wet and slightly slimy, Jake hisses in appreciation of the sight of your pussy, and let out a moan of pleasure in seeing you so needy of him, slipped a finger between your vaginal lips to surround your clitoris. «Holy shit, you’re so wet» You pulled your hair again, and with a smile without warning put another finger get into that tight pussy.

«You look so needy of me that you don’t seem a good girl» Put two big fingers in your pussy at once, up to the knuckle, and moan his name, "Jakey is too much" You heard his laugh and began to pump until you were accustomed to the length of his fingers inside you and as in the book that you had read before he put the third finger inside you and while pumping at the same time he bent and curled his fingers to make you feel All three of them. You were seriously ecstatic by the sensations you felt, the groans that came out of your lips, and while Jake looked at you so lost and excited for him with another finger she started to tease your clitoris and pinch it slightly to make you come only thanks to him.

"Jake, I’m coming" You felt his fingers pumping even harder and at the same time an adrenaline rush invaded you and white sticky, and slimy sperm invaded your pussy and Jake’s fingers, you tried to stand up slightly, But you felt Jake give you some light pussy licks and he took a finger close to his mouth and sucked it.

«Well, I can say that I have fulfilled your forbidden dream and that perhaps the things represented in those books can be really realized.»

Jake returns from a long day at the university. The living room light is off, but he notices your bedroom door closed. He knows you’re home because your shoes are by the entrance, but he hasn’t seen you for more than a few minutes or talked to you in days. He lets himself fall on the sofa with a sigh, passing his hand through his messy hair.

«What the hell did I do?»

Think back to that scene on the bed, his hand that drew circles on your skin, and when you moaned his name. At that moment he had found you relaxed, even comfortable with him. But now? Now you were avoiding all interaction with him. The idea that you might feel uncomfortable or, worse, disgusted with him haunted him.

You were lying on the bed, phone in hand looking for distractions between your friends' messages and your followers' comments. But Jake’s thought keeps coming back. Every time you close your eyes, you still feel the warmth of his hands and hate yourself for letting it happen. Not because you didn’t like it - in fact, it’s the opposite. You liked it so much that it was days before you fell asleep you remembered in your mind the kisses and how good they made you feel.

"Ugh, you’re pathetic."

You turn to your side, staring at the book still on its bedside table. That book has kindled something in you, but now you can’t even look at it without thinking about Jake and how the line between you two has faded too fast.

You were with some friends at the bar of the faculty and with the girlfriend of Heeseung and does not miss the opportunity to tease you.

T/N << Oh, you’ve already finished reading the second book? Or are you too busy "experimenting" with your roommate? >>

You choked on his coffee, blushing violently.

"Nothing like that happens!"

<< Sure, sure. It’s just that Jake doesn’t seem to be the type to quit easily. And honestly? He looks at you as if you were his favorite snack and we can also admit it is really sexy but at the same time has that sweet face that would make any girl crazy. >>

The other girls laugh, but you can’t get it out of your head. Maybe T/N was right. Maybe Jake didn’t touch you just for fun or curiosity. And maybe, your problem was that you didn’t mind the idea.

You came back late hoping to find Jake already in bed but instead, he was sitting at the kitchen table with an open physics book and a cup of tea next to it. When he saw you, he stood up immediately but did not approach.

«Hey,» you looked at him for a moment smiled at him, and then sat down on the sofa without answering. Jake moved slowly, sitting in the chair opposite her.

«Can we talk? you’ve been avoiding me for days and I miss spending time with you even just to have a cup of tea» he said looking at you like a puppy

"There’s nothing to say, Jake. I miss spending time with you too but" didn’t stop you talking as he came closer to you.

«Yes, it is. Y/n, if you want me to step aside or... find somewhere else to stay I can go to Jay or Sunghoon, I understand. But please don’t ignore me like that. You’re driving me crazy.»

You looked at him, surprised by his frustration. There was sincerity in his eyes, and the knot in his throat loosened a little when he heard you speak.

"I don’t want you to leave." Jake relaxes slightly, leaning on the back.

«Okay, then help me figure out how not to ruin everything with you?»

You laid your hand and stirred his slightly long tuft and smiled at him.

"You never ruined anything, Jake" and you hugged him timidly feeling your heart beat.

After that argument with Jake things seemed to be "normal" between you two. You were sitting on the couch with your laptop on your knees, pretending to be working on a new video for your channel. In fact, your ears were tuned to the noise coming from Jake’s room where he was getting ready to go out and when he did, your heart skipped a beat.

Jake wears a black shirt with slightly swaggy sleeves and jeans that fit him perfectly. The hair is in a studied disorder, and the perfume he put on seems to fill the whole apartment. When he sees you, he leans nonchalantly against the wall and smiles in a cheeky way.

«What do you think? I’m presentable enough to get the attention of some girls?»

You looked at him for a moment, trying to look indifferent, but you felt a squeeze in your chest. It’s too good. Too much. And the idea of other girls touching him makes your blood boil.

"You will definitely impress someone. I would say too much."

Jake raises an eyebrow, amused by your tone, and approaches the couch. He bends slightly, looking straight into your eyes.

«Jealous, Spicy Girl?»

"Jealous? Of you? Pff".

«Oh, so you don’t care if someone tries to kiss me tonight?»

You’re a little stiff, and Jake doesn’t miss the slightest change in your expression. He enjoys too much to see how badly you hide him.

"You do what you want, it’s your life. I bet you’ll get in trouble and call me."

«Ah, so you think of me when I go out with my friends. Interesting.»

You stare at him with defiance, but inside you, there is a storm. Every fiber of your being wants to tell you to stay, but your rational mind blocks you. Jake comes even closer, lowering himself to your ear with his low, warm voice.

«For the record, there will be no one like you this evening. You know, in case you were wondering.»

You feel the heat rising to your face, but it refuses to give way.

"Go, Jake. I’m sure your "friends" are waiting for you, you don’t want to be late". You said coldly

Jake retracts, but the cheeky smile remains on his lips. He puts on his jacket and heads for the door, taking one last look at you.

«Try not to think too much about me, okay?»

And with a quick nod, he leaves the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You let yourself fall on the couch, your heart beating fast and a mix of anger and... something that you don’t even want to admit to yourself.

After a few minutes, you were seriously angry with yourself and so you wrote to Heeseung’s girlfriend if she wanted to surprise him and presented you at the place where they had gone then about an hour later you entered Armleaved with T/N, in a black cocktail dress, Elegant but with a touch of sensuality that makes you feel confident. You have carefully chosen your accessories and your hair is smooth and frames your face, with a loving smile you approach the group of Heeseung and Jungwon, who welcome you warmly, Complimenting you on your outfit but your eyes are fixed on Jake who is talking to a girl and seconds later as if he felt someone was looking at him, Jake turns slightly and sees you laughing with Heeseung and Jungwon’s girlfriends but his eyes were glued to your body.

«Fuck. What the hell is she doing here, dressed like that? It’s not possible. It didn’t have to be so... all show. Those clothes that show more than they should» he thinks to himself, Jake stands up sharply, interrupts the conversation with the girl, and walks firmly towards you. He doesn’t greet you like a normal friend, not even as a normal roommate. There’s something different about his attitude. He is not only curious or worried. He is angry and possessive.

You turn around, smiling as he approaches, but when you see him closer, your smile shakes a little. Jake is about to say something, but he stops for a moment, looking at you once more. His breath is heavier, and his eyes stare intensely at your body as if he wanted to possess you with the look.

«So, this is your game, huh? Let everyone around you see... Wearing (gesturing with the finger in the direction of his dress) this piece of cloth?» you were slightly surprised but a small smile made its way into your mouth.

"Jake, what’s the matter with you? I was bored at home and I wrote to T/N if he wanted to come with me to this club where his boyfriend was also there. I’m alone with the guys, you don’t have to be so..."

«It’s not them I’m talking about, Y/n. It’s you. You didn’t have to be so pretty and show yourself like that.» Jake ran his hands through his hair and even his tongue passed between his lips slightly cracked from the cold. You smiled and went to T/N’s to talk and after a while, with the careful look of Jake and Heeseung you were down on the dance floor Jake never left you with his eyes and after 10 minutes he was tired of this situation and came up to you and took you slightly by the hips and whispered. «Want to get some fresh air, Spicy Girl? The place is getting too crowded for you.»

You knew it was an excuse to take you out of the club and I said no with my head but he took your pulse slightly and started walking towards the exit

"Jake, what... what are you doing?"

He looked at you with a bold and dangerous smile, making a gesture towards the door. «You’re too perfect to be here. I want to take you home. I see how they look at you, how they want you. But you are not made for them. You are made for me. And now, come with me.»

Jake does not wait for an answer. He grabs you with delicacy, but with the force that leaves no doubt. At that moment, his mind is on fire. It is not only the physical desire that drives him but something more. A visceral need to have you all to yourself, without more interference, without more third-party players.

"Jake, but I..."

«Don’t talk, Y/n. Come with me. I want to show you something. I want to make you feel what I read. I want you to understand how much you’ve been driving me crazy for months now»

When you arrived at your apartment, you took off your shoes but after a few moments, Jake trapped you between the wall behind you and he put his hands on your hips, pulling you to himself. You felt dizzy, was it really happening?! put a finger on your chin and raise your head. He loved the expression of your red face, and your trembling lips and eyes. You were so scared, but at the same time so excited and you could see that you had just done it to make him jealous and to get his attention. Jake presses his cock against your dressed pussy, smiling as you instinctively push your hips against him and groan, noticing your reaction, Jake slowly rubs his dick against your clitoris again, and you moan in his mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and put your hands on Jake’s muscular shoulders, your nails sticking into the skin still wearing your shirt and feel your dress pull up, Making you hiss and groan for the cold air that hit your legs and your sensitive pussy. Jake pushed his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth at will while you rubbed gently on his jeans-clad cock.

He heard how wet you were by putting your palm between your panties and wanted to drive you crazy «Fuck, you’re even soggier than last time. Bet when I was out training or class you were touching yourself thinking of me, right, y/n» you annulet slightly and a grin took hold of Jake’s face. «Let’s see if I’m even better than that masked devil, turn around and sit between my legs, I want to make you come like in that scene where he fucks his girlfriend in front of the mirror» obey Jake’s request feeling too excited to answer. He pulls you closer to him by the hips and starts playing with your clitoris, rubbing incredibly slowly. you have leaned towards him, turning your head to hide your face in his neck, but he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. You pushed slightly over his cock and felt how hard it was but your concentration was on Jake’s fingers around your pussy.

«Look. Look how pretty you are while I fuck you with my fingers in front of the mirror, who knows later how it will be to see you not only in front of me but also thanks to the mirror reflection take my dick as a good girl» lowers your panties and looks through the mirror while Jake spreads your wet folds, showing you your swollen clitoris and tight hole. " Jake, pls" was embarrassing to see, so you tried to close your legs, but Jake was quick to use his other hand, forcing you to open your legs again.

Jake shoves two knuckles into your pussy and starts pumping in and out of you at a steady pace, you’ve never felt anything like this before, No one had ever shown you how excited I could be and was full of emotions, especially in front of a mirror where you saw all excited and Jake’s fingers pumping at an incensing rhythm; It was both too good and too overwhelming, but you couldn’t ask Jake to stop even if you were terribly embarrassed to see you like that, not when you were feeling so high at the time.

«Holy shit people are right to say that those dirty sex scenes can be replicated, Y/n after this session you can tell everyone how excited you were but the problem is that these things you can do only with me and with no one else» pressed her thumb against your clitoris, surrounding it. Your back bowed as you tried with all your strength not to moan loudly "Jakie, pls is too nice" Jake pushes his fingers deeper inside you and hits a specific point, Start moving your fingers faster but keep hitting that spot you love so much. He made you crazy and as he fills you with his fingers feel his cock rubbing more and more against your ass and feel how Jake was holding back so that it didn’t explode immediately. Use your other hand to massage your clitoris at a much, much more violent pace than last time. You moan her name, louder than ever until you hear your clitoris pulsate. The sight of you two being lost like that in front of the mirror made your head spin. He pulled you incredibly closer to him, kissing you along the neck as both his hands worked on your pussy: One touched you and the other abused your clitoris until you came Jake put his hands to his mouth and started sucking it and the reflection you saw was so perverse, you completely out of your mind, Jake with the ruffled hair, His lips full, his fingers full of slimy cum, he who carried his fingers to taste your sperm and after a while brought a finger around your lips and licked your own semen.

Jake made you relax a little bit but after a while, he felt his cock too hard push against his jeans, turned you around and his lips never left your skin for even a moment, sweet noises of kisses rang in your ears. You get a thousand chills when you feel Jake lower the straps of your dress and you’re dead skin until it reached your breast and started with one hand to tease him and gently squeeze him instead of the other sucking your already terribly hard nipples. " Jake, I need you. I don’t care at all to recreate those scenes, I just want you right now" Jake growled in a low voice when he heard this confession from you and slightly pushed his hips to get his jeans and at the same time his boxer shorts, you were sitting between his legs and his hard cock was banging lightly against his V-line, it was big, a little red and full of liquid and you licked your lips at the sight of him so vulnerable but at the same time excited thanks to you.

«Do you trust me, Y/n?» you said yes with your head, he pumped some of his cock, the muscles of his arm swelled up with every movement and you were enchanted to see his big hands veined around his dick.

When it entered inside you a loud cry came out of your mouth, tears stung your eyes as you felt tense only by its tip that slid in. " God is so big, Jake. put your hands on me his hips I want to hear you all" Exhalaste, the eyes that lowered to check, Jake put his big hands on your hips. You were panicked, the head that turned when you saw how much length he still had left. Jake whimpered at your narrow walls that swallow him so well and when he brought you closer to him, you felt all his cock inside of you and it was a wonderful feeling You got up slowly and after a while, you started riding it with the same succinct dress that you had put on to make it go away, Your breast flashed slightly to every push that you took the cock of Jake and with one hand held you by the back and with the other he clutched a breast and with the mouth sucked your nipple. You felt every inch of him, the way he pulsed, the way he grew incredibly bigger each time your walls were tightened, the way he effortlessly hit all your sensitive points: you could feel everything about him. Your head began to spin, whining for the pleasure that was beginning to overwhelm you.

"Jakey" whimpered, leaving little suckers in his neck. he hummed in response, shivering every time your walls were tightened on him. "Faster, give me faster." He panicked, Jake, his body stiff as he stared at your dazed expression. He pushed his hips and his dick even more deep inside you Whatever you want, baby, you’re taking it like a good girl. Turn your head and look at you riding my dick» You were slightly still a little embarrassed by the situation but when you turned I saw you so overwhelmed with Jake’s cock pumping inside of you while you rode it like in the scene of the book.

You shivered, whining as deep as it was coming. You could hear the thick head of his cock knocking on your deeper walls, stomach almost swollen from the pressure. " Jake please", you whiny, "it’s too much for me."

«You’ll come for me, y/n? do it, baby. let me see... let me see how good you are to me as you come around my dick.» Jake was dizzy, his eyes were focused on the way your face writhed nicely or the way your boobs bounced off each push, or the way your hair fell on your face, He had imagined this scene a lot of times when he read by chance that scene in the second book.

«Fuck», sighed Jake, the shivers passed through his body. could feel your walls writhing and huddling around him, munching his cock greedily. He kissed your neck, «just a little more, okay?»

Before you could ask him what he meant, his hips had already started moving, setting a brutal rhythm from the beginning without letting you rest. " Fuck! Fuck, Jake!" you sobbed, trembling sensibly.

In the midst of the brutal rhythm, you could feel Jake’s cock pulsating deep inside you, signaling his own orgasm. you screamed, leaving more scratches on his chest, trembling when you felt his sperm cover your walls. Jake stayed inside you for a while and when he pulled out the white sperm dripped all over your walls, hugged you to himself and gave you small kisses on the forehead and in the slightly sweaty hair, He felt how your heart was beating fast and so did he.

Morning light filtered gently through the curtains, creating soft reflections on the room. You woke up slowly, with your body still wrapped in Jake’s warm embrace, he was beautiful with his hair ruffled, lips slightly open and his arms clinging to his chest, he was like a big adorable puppy... an incredibly sexy puppy. You moved slightly towards him and, without thinking too much, you put your lips gently into his. Your mouth sought his in a gesture of affection that you did not know exactly how to explain, but that seemed to come from the bottom of your heart. You tried to move slowly, but Jake made a small roar and pulled you even closer, holding you as if you were his favourite pillow.

«Don’t go anywhere... you’re too comfortable.»

Laugh, have fun. It was amazing how he could be so irresistibly tender even when he was awake. You caressed his hair gently, as he sank his face into the curve of his neck.

"Jake, you’re like a giant koala. How can I move if you hold me like this?"

Jake finally opened an eye, looking at you with a sleepy smile but a cunning smile

«You can’t. That’s the plan. I’ll keep you here forever!»

I hope you like it:) I had a lot of fun writing this one-shot about Jake. I think he is one of the easiest members to write stories with for his character that comes out through the en-o-clock or various videos about him.

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oneoftheextras · 25 days ago

Text

down a peg | j.t

masterlist | tip for the author?

paring: sub!jayce talis x f!reader

summary: jayce's ego has gotten the better of him, so you come up with a way to put him in his place

words: 7k (happy holidays ig)

warnings: +18, smut, pegging, eventual sub!jayce, dom!reader, male whimpering and begging, two tops fighting for power, hair pulling.

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

Jayce Talis was the man of process. He was smart, caring, egotistical and most definitely in need of humbling.

He walked around the lab like he owned it, making so much noise with his fancy shoes and his constant monologuing.

His long muscular legs striding across the room to pick up pages of work that wasn’t his, just so he could be involved and comment on it.

He drove you and Viktor crazy on most days.

When he became counsellor his head grew so large that you were surprised he could fit through the doorframe.

In reality, he was harmless. Both you and Viktor knew that he cared about the two of you more than anything, but his new title gave him a false sense of bravado that you didn’t like.

The afternoon that Jayce accidentally slipped a ‘That’s an order’ to you, was the afternoon that began his downfall.

If the raised eyebrow and displeased look you shared with Viktor wasn’t enough to let Jayce know he’d gone too far, the sarcastic “Yes, Counsellor Talis,” from you, and the mocking “Anything you say, Counsellor Talis!” from Viktor should’ve been.

After Jayce left the lab, you and Viktor decided enough was enough.

“He’s got a good heart, but we need to do something about his ego,” Viktor had casually mentioned, unintentionally lighting the catalyst of your scheme.

You huffed, signalling your agreement and began reorganising the papers Jayce had messed up earlier, “What can we do? He’s the golden boy!” you feigned excitement.

“He just needs reminding of where he came from. Taken down a few pegs,” Viktor was concentrating on tinkering with something to calm his frustrations.

Wiping a dirty, ink covered hand over your forehead, you thought about his words and a sly smile formed on your lips.

“Say that again?” you turned your body from your work to face Viktor, “What? Remind him where he came from?” he was still concentrating on his gadget.

You shuffled your chair closer, “No, the other bit,” there was mischief in your voice.

At your sudden proximity to him, Viktor turned to face you, the magnifying glass in his goggles making his eye look funny.

“Take him down a few pegs?” he repeated himself, eyebrows slightly knitted with confusion, but they eventually relaxed at the realisation hit him.

He chuckled a little, but when you didn’t laugh with him he stopped, “You cannot be serious?” he gave you a surprised expression.

“I’m very serious,” you confirmed that his train of thought and yours were on the same tracks. "How?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You grabbed some clean paper and a pencil, "Give me 10 minutes," you turned back to your desk and started scribbling.

It took you a little bit longer than the 10 minutes you had promised, but your design was done.

Handing it to Viktor, you held your breath, waiting for his feedback the same way you did the first time you showed him one of your ideas. "It is a little crude, don't you think?" he turned the paper ninety degrees to observe it at a different angle.

"I think it would be impossible to not make it crude, considering what it is," you put your hand on the back of his chair and lowered your head to study your drawing again.

Viktor leaned his head to the side and sighed as if to say that you were right. "It is simplistic, yet... beautiful," he complimented and your chest swelled with pride.

"Manageable?" you queried, that was the main concern of yours. "Oh, of course," Viktor put the page down on the desk in front of him, "Easily so," he confirmed and you smiled.

The clock showed 9:41pm, "Let's get started then," you picked up the paper and walked over to the shelves of resources you shared. "What? Right now?" Viktor was surprised at your eagerness.

"Might as well," you shrugged, putting what you'd need into a box under your arm, "A little hasty, no?" he'd stood from his desk and taken a few steps towards you with his cane.

He watched you pick and choose which materials you wanted and which you didn't. "No time like the present," you chuckled as you put the last piece into your box and headed for the workbench.

"Do you really want to deal with him for another day?" you raised an eyebrow, and the way that Viktor glanced to the ground and back up at you was all the assurance you needed.

In no time, Viktor had joined you at the workbench and the two of you got to work.

After a few hours, the main parts were basically done. There were a few modifications you'd needed to make along the way, but Viktor was good at problem solving on the fly.

He stretched his back and paused for a moment to watch you work. "One query I do have..." Viktor started and you hummed in a response for him to continue.

"Once it's made, how are you going to... you know?" it was as though vocalising the words was too embarrassing for him, but you didn't interject. "Execute your plan?" he finally asked.

In honesty, the realisation of what your scheme entailed hadn't fully set in just yet.

"I have some ideas," you shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but your heart raced at the thought.

As if talking about him had summoned him, the door to the lab swung open. You and Viktor let out a small gasp, but you immediately grabbed a sheet and threw it over the workbench.

"Have either of you seen my-" Jayce had started to say, but stopped when he saw you both by the workbench, "-What's going on?" he interrupted his original question.

You walked out from behind the table and instead leaned on it, trying to body block anything you hadn't managed to cover.

"What were you looking for?" you tried to steer him back to his first thought. "My forging gloves- are you working on something?" he stepped forward and leaned to the side to try to see behind you.

"No!", "Yes!", you and Viktor spoke at the same time. You mentally cursed yourself for not preparing something for this exact scenario.

"We are-" you spoke quickly and loudly to indicate to Viktor that you would handle it, "-But it's not ready yet,". Jayce didn't even look at you, he had excitement and annoyance in his eyes that trailed the table.

"Without me? Let me see!" Jayce almost-whined, you could hear the small fraction of hurt in his voice.

Taking a silent and quick inhale, you knew what you had to do.

As Jayce continued to walk towards the table, you stepped forward to intercept him, your chest no more than an inch from his.

"Jayce..." you lowered your voice slightly and spoke with a soft and enticing cadence. The room fell silent, and Jayce blinked a few times as he glanced down to you, he'd never heard you sound like that.

He opened his mouth to say something but his jaw slowly closed again when your and gently trailed up the front of his shirt to play with his tie.

"I was wondering if I could borrow your soldering iron?" the tone of your voice and the words you were saying couldn't have been more contrasting.

You slipped your fingers under his tie and you could feel the warmth of his chest and the beating of his heart against your knuckles.

"Y-Yeah, sure," he cleared his throat after his words came out slightly shaky.

Running your thumb over the expensive red silk of his tie and smiling sweetly at him, you looked up at him with the best 'fuck me' eyes you could muster, and lightly pulled on the fabric.

His eyelids fluttered as his blinking sped up. In all the years the three of you had known each other, you'd never acted this way with him.

"Great, where is it?" you spoke even quieter than before so he really needed to focus on your words, so all of his attention was on you, "Forge," was all he could say.

You hummed to indicate you were happy with his response and let go of his tie, smoothing your hand down the front of his chest as if you were making in presentable again.

"Off you go then," you tapped his chest twice before stepping backwards to signal that he could leave. "Right, okay," he nodded and cleared his throat again, almost snapping out of the trance you'd put him in.

He nodded again to Viktor to say goodbye and promptly turned around and strode out of the lab.

As you spun back around to face Viktor, his jaw was being collected off of the floor, "Wha-Huh? How did you do that??".

You shrugged and smirked confidently, "I said I had some ideas,", Viktor was also as lost for words as Jayce was, "We don't have time for that, come on!" you laughed and gestured for Viktor to take the sheet off.

Conscious that Jayce wouldn't take too long returning from the forge, the two of you worked double time. The only thing that was left to do was connect the most important part.

"What're you going to use for the..." Viktor tried to make hand gestures instead of saying the word, and you saved him the embarrassment, "I have something already don't worry," somehow all shame had been lost the longer you worked on this.

He shook his head to erase the thought from his brain.

“I don’t mean, like, mine!” you tried to quickly backtrack, “I’ve made a prototype of something previously,” your hand gestures became more elaborate the more you tried to explain.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Viktor shook his head quicker than before, “I don’t need to know!” he protested but he was smiling, still finding the humorous side.

You spared him any further details and tapped the table as though audibly providing the full stop to your sentence.

The silence that followed was awkward and somewhat tense.

"Are you really going to do it?", Viktor was the first one to break the quiet between you. At first the whole scenario was kind of funny, but now that you'd actually made it, the seriousness of your plan was starting to rear it's head.

You picked at a piece of the wooden workbench that had began to splinter, nervousness running through your veins.

"What if he doesn't want me, and I make it weird?" you ask Viktor quietly, your voice showing an insecurity he'd never seen you have.

It was impossible for you to make eye contact with him after saying something like that, but the reality that you were about to attempt to seduce and sleep with, not only a friend, but your business partner.

"What if I try this and I ruin everything we've built together?" you still avoided looking at Viktor. Afraid that his expression would provide you with the answer you were dreading.

He exhaled sharply and he called your name with a soft and comforting tone, only then did you find the courage to meet his eye.

"We have known each other for a very long time, yes?" you nodded instead of verbally replying to his question, "In all that time you have never noticed the way Jayce looks at you,".

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. An exasperated one at that.

"The way he looks at me?" you pointed at yourself and it was your turn to look surprised. Viktor let out a 'Pfft' noise, "Please-" he raised an eyebrow, "Do you think he acts like that-" he gestured to the space where the two of you had been earlier, "-with everyone?".

The cogs in your brain were barely turning, all their power used on your creation that was laid out on the workbench in front of you.

"I guess not," you relented any further protests, and glanced towards the clock, 1:27am.

Viktor followed where your vision had landed and stood from his stool clearly noting how late it had become, "Right, I am going to my bedroom... which is on the other side of the building...".

He said the last part with faux innocence, but his smile gave away the context to his words.

"I need to get the thing from my room anyway, so I'll walk with you,".

Jayce grumbled to himself as he made his way back to the lab. The hallways were a ghost town at this time of night so he had nothing other than his own thoughts to accompany him.

Despite the never ending to-do-list that was handed to him over the last few hours, his mind kept drifting back to the interaction he'd had with you in the lab.

He had never seen you act like that. Why did it make him stumble over his words? How did he crumble so quickly under your touch?

He was perplexed at the involuntary actions of his own body; frustrated and annoyed at himself for following your instructions so blindly, yet a part of him yearned for that feeling again.

Whilst that want was strong, he still felt as though his pride had been wounded. He'd yielded at your commands like a lap dog, and it wasn't going to happen again.

He was simply caught off guard, that was all.

Jayce's grip on the soldering iron was tight as he pushed open the heavy wooden door to the lab.

He'd entered this room a million times over the years, but he felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him as he crossed the threshold, only for it to dissipate when he realised it was empty.

The only signs of you or Viktor was your messy station, and his shoulders slumped with disappointment he didn't know he had. He glanced down at the iron in his hand, maybe he'd taken too long.

Sighing, he walked to the workbench where the two of you had been standing before and placed it down on one of the only free spaces available.

He was about to continue his evening, maybe go for a walk around the grounds or find a bar to have a quick drink in, but the sheet of fabric was too tempting.

With no one else around, who would know that he took a quick look at your project?

All hesitation he previously had was replaced with childlike excitement as he peeled back the fabric to reveal what you both had tried to hard to keep from him.

Once his eyes landed on the object, he tilted his head to the side and his eyebrows furrowed with confusion - he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at.

He picked it up by one of the leather cords and held it in his hands, his thumb running over the hollow circle in the middle that was decorated by a metal ring.

The design was very simple, but a few embellishments decorated the soft triangular fabric and the belts that were connected to it.

He turned it over in his hands but couldn't quite figure out what it was, until he saw the accompanying sketches.

When you entered the lab, you didn't see him at first as you pushed the door open with your hip, but the clanking of tools and rustling of paper made you look up.

"Oh, I- uh-" Jayce fumbled with both his words and his hands as he tried to put everything back as he'd found it. The sound of metal clattering to the floor interrupted any excuse he was going to start making.

This was probably how he had found you and Viktor a few hours prior.

"I thought you'd left," he chuckled nervously, "I did-" you pointed to the door behind you, "-But then I came back," your finger redirected to the floor in front of you.

It was painfully obvious that you'd caught him in the act, but he was trying to play it off with that dashing smile he'd give during speeches.

Unfortunately for Jayce, you weren't the average population of Piltover that were so easily won over.

"Find anything interesting?" you folded your arms over your chest, "What, I- no?" he maintained the façade, but your scolding stare told him the gig was up.

"Fine, yes, I looked," he relented, "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me, I wouldn't have judged-" he was making less sense the more he spoke, but there was an air of something to his voice.

"-What?" you studied his hand gestures to try and figure out what he was trying to say so poorly, "I had no idea you and Viktor-", "-Me and Viktor?" you interjected with even more confusion than before.

Jayce stopped speaking for long enough to stare at you, his eyes searching yours.

"Is this not for you to use with him?" he asserted and pulled back the fabric sheet; the seriousness of his tone made you laugh. "No, it's not," you unfolded your arms and rested your hands on your hips, your bag still hanging from your shoulder.

Jayce scoffed and glanced around the room with annoyance, clearly not believing you.

"Then why were you being so secretive about it earlier?" his words were less of a question and more of an accusation.

You approached him and placed your bag on top of the assortment of papers and materials.

"Why would you not include me?" he fired another question at you before you had a chance to answer the first.

The workbench was in between you, but you could still feel the heat of his emotions from where you stood.

"Did you really think Viktor and I were together?" you leaned forward on the workbench, his scent wafting over to you the more he gestured.

It was hard not to crumble as the notes of coal smoke, cherry and leather that filled your nostrils, but you stood strong.

"I think a lot of people do," he grumbled, "The two of you spend all your time together, you're basically inseparable-"

He stepped away from the workbench and angled himself towards the door.

"-I can't talk to one of you without the other being there, it's like you're attached at the hip-", his ramblings became more emotionally charged.

Although you couldn't see his face, you finally caught what his words were laced with - envy.

"-Are you jealous?", you cut him off. He clearly wasn't expecting the accusation as he stopped mid-step and turned back to you.

"Why would I be jealous?" he tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. His cheeks flushed a new shade of pink, and you knew your game had began.

You shrugged and leaned against the workbench, the same way you had earlier, but now it was just the two of you.

"It just sounds like you're jealous," you lowered your voice ever -so-slightly. Not as much as before, but enough that it made Jayce swallow the saliva that had caught in his throat.

Jayce's brain buffered for a moment, caught in the fog of your voice, but he quickly recomposed himself - he wasn't going to let you get the better of him again.

"I'm not," he muttered.

You shrugged and turned your back on him, reaching over to grab your creation from where Jayce had left it, you looked back at him over your shoulder as you leaned.

As predicted, his eyeline was not on your face. When he realised you were looking at him, he quickly averted his gaze.

His hands gripped at his sides as he took a few steps towards you.

Your heart leap in your chest when you saw him move, but it was short lived when he stopped, keeping an arms distance between the two of you.

"Where is Viktor anyway?" Jayce asked, avoiding your eyeline as you twisted back to face him.

You held your project in your hands but gave Jayce all your attention, "He's gone to bed," you explained, "Wont be back until the morning," you implied.

His lower lip darted in between his teeth for a second at how slowly and purposely you spoke. He could feel the suggestion in your voice as if you'd written it out in front of him.

Hesitantly, he took another step towards you and put himself within touching distance, if you wanted to.

He could feel his heart picking up speed under his ribcage. The two of you had been alone multiple times over the years, but it had never felt like this. Never felt so tempting.

He grabbed hold of the device in your hands, his middle and index finger overlapping yours sent fireworks through your body, and you knew he could feel it too.

"And this?" he was so close to you now that he only needed to whisper and you could hear him clear as day. "What about it?" you gazed up at him, trying to speak to him with your eyes, but he was focused on your hands.

"Who's it for?" he asked, and you smiled to yourself, "Me," you stated plainly, "And whoever else I want," the last part was almost inaudible, but he most-definitely heard it.

"And who do you want?" he leaned towards you, his confidence was starting to show again as his question caught you off guard. This whole time you had planned to be the one to initiate, but never actually figured out how to.

It seemed as if he was giving you the perfect opening, but now that the time was here, you found your words caught in your throat.

"Jayce..." was all you could manage, it wasn't needy or relenting, but the low and suggestive way you said his name made him act before he could think.

He forcefully stepped forward, his chest pressing against yours but the momentum not stopping until his hands - and your lower back - were firmly against the workbench.

At some point during the two or three seconds of movement, you'd let go of the strap and it was now in between Jayce's palm and the counter.

His eyes pierced into yours as he towered over you, giving you nowhere to move, but you knew this wasn't how this was going to go - no matter how much you enjoyed it.

Other than his body against yours, he hadn't actually touched you yet, and you decided that you were going to be the one to bridge that gap.

You gently placed your hand on his chest and untucked his tie from his waistcoat whilst maintaining eye contact with him.

His breath was hitting your face in hard puffs as your fingers intertwined with the soft red fabric, pulling it loose from his collar.

His eyeline dipped from yours to your lips and you knew what was coming. He closed his eyes and moved his head quickly, but your finger caught his pursed lips before they could make contact with your own.

He opened his eyes and glanced between your finger on his lips and your face, and immediately backed away.

"I'm sorry, I-" his thoughts were momentarily consumed with scolding, thinking he'd misread your messages and made a fool of himself.

To defuse the situation, you hooked your fingers into the front of his collar and pulled him back towards you, "You haven't earned that yet," you asserted.

His expression softened before returning to a sultry smile, "Earned?" he tilted his head to the side and mockingly repeated your wording.

You hummed to show your agreement as you pulled the remainder of his tie free and let it fall to the floor.

"Take this off," you lazily pinched the fabric of his waistcoat, "Then maybe you can kiss me," the command in your voice was new, even to you, but it felt comfortable.

He regarded you for a moment with his mouth slightly parted, you were sure you'd pushed him too far, but when he reached up and undid the first clasp you mentally let go of the breath you were holding.

The waistcoat slid off of his shoulders with ease, and he instantly leaned into you again, but you tutted.

"No," you pushed him away by his chest gently and tapped your finger to your chin as though you were thinking, "That too," you pointed at his shirt.

This time he didn't hesitate. He straightened his spine and shuffle backwards so you could properly see him as he undid every button.

He started at the bottom, untucking it from his pants, and slowly popping two of the buttons, one with each hand.

The first part of his skin you saw was the dark trail of hair that lead to his belly button, then his toned abdomen. He sped up when he got to his chest, his shirt fully open but still hanging from his shoulders.

He smirked as your eyes raked over his form, he was playing with you as much as you were playing with him, just in his own way.

In all the years you'd spent together, you'd never actually seen Jayce in a state of undress. Whenever he was in the forge, you were at a desk.

You nudged your head to the side, indicating for him to continue, so he did. With a shrug of his shoulders, the black fabric slid down his body effortlessly to land a few inches away from his waistcoat.

The sight of him with his torso bare almost knocked the air out of your lungs, "Pretty boy," you breathed absentmindedly.

He practically preened at the compliment and strode back to you, this time he waited before trying to kiss you again.

Your hands trailed up the front of his chest and between his pecks, it felt so different without the constraints of his shirt in the way, but you felt him shiver under your touch.

Drawing the outline of his collarbone with your fingertip, you felt his voice rumbling before you heard it.

"Can I?" he kept his composure but there was an underlying tone of pleading to his question, "You can-", the words had barely left your mouth before he'd grabbed the back of your head and encapsulated his mouth with yours.

His lips were soft and warm. At first he only pressed his lips against yours, but he quickly pulled away only to open his mouth and deepen the kiss.

The way his bottom lip dragged over yours made lightening sizzle through your body, if he wasn't already holding you up your knees would've buckled beneath you.

Your hands found their way into his hair and you returned the feverishness of his kiss.

The way you both timed your sharp inhales of breath between the milliseconds where your mouths weren't connected was nothing short of a display of years of longing.

His lips snatched every kiss from you as if he was never going to get the opportunity to do this again, stealing every inch of your mouth for himself.

He quickly and gently pressed his teeth against your bottom lip and pulled playfully, causing a quiet and unintentional moan to escape your throat.

He continued to kiss you, but you could feel the cocky smirk against your lips. He was playing your game and you were losing.

You realised how much you'd leaned into his touch, how his strong hands had moulded you to where he wanted you. You needed to regain control.

Sharply, you tightened your grip in his hair and pulled his head backwards - a soft whimper leaving his lips, and hitting you straight in your core, giving you a small tingle.

The two of you panted as his throat was exposed to you.

You leaned in and licked up the sensitive flesh, feeling prickles of his stubble against your tongue, "I want your pants off," you spoke against his throat, before you released him.

He stumbled backwards, obviously taken off guard by you. He was sure you'd melted in his palm, but you were back to giving him orders.

When you gestured to his lower half, he quickly undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, pushing them to the floor and stepping out of them.

His underwear was slightly pulled down from the force he'd pulled his pants down with, so you could see the indents of his V line and a patch of dark hair peaking over the waistband.

You were going to tease him some more, but the clear outline of where he was straining against the fabric was too much of a temptation to wait.

"And those," you lazily gestured to his boxers as if you weren't as excited as he was. He just had the unfortunate biology of not being able to hide it.

He grumbled, but hooked his thumbs into his waistband and slowly pulled them down. Just as he was about to get to the halfway point, he put his hand into his boxers and pushed the rest of the fabric down.

Once again, he stepped out of the leg holes, but kept one hand on the base of his dick so his hand and wrist evaded it from your view.

"Let me see," you said in a gentle tone. For a moment you were unsure if he was shy, but has he slipped his shoes off with a smirk, you knew this was a man who had every confidence in his physical appearance and this was him trying to yank some control back.

"I think we need to even this out," he sauntered over to you with poise, he took hold of your collar and attempted to undo the first button, but you gripped his wrist and pulled it away.

"I think you need to remember your place," you corrected him, your index finger and thumb taking hold of his strong jaw and squeezing for a second.

You hand trailed up to the side of his face, it was gentle and a complete contrast to the way you'd just grabbed him.

Your thumb brushed over his bottom lip and he instinctively opened his mouth with a groan, allowing your thumb to slip in and hook over his teeth.

He could easily pull your hand away if he wanted, but he didn't.

"Don't you want me to touch you?" you asked with faux innocence, and he nodded with your thumb still in his mouth, "Then let me see," you continued the façade of purity.

He gazed into your eyes and you could almost see his golden irises searching for his next opportunity for the upper hand, but when he found none, he simply moved his hand.

It hadn't registered that he'd let go at first, it wasn't until his cock thumped heavily against your thigh that you realised he'd done it.

You looked down, thinking for a second that something had fallen off of the workbench behind you, but when you saw his thick member resting against your leg and stood to attention, you held back a gasp.

Of course he was big; not that you'd thought about it before.

As you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and started to slowly move your wrist, it was something that seemed obvious to you now. He was a large man, easily taller and more muscular than you, so of course you would struggle to make your fingers meet around his width.

He wanted to make a smartass comment, he'd seen the momentary surprise on your features and he wanted to capitalise on the opportunity, but the way you massaged his length left no room for anything other than strangled moans to come from him.

His hips started to move with your rhythm and his breathing got heavier, he was adamant to stay standing tall and keep eye contact with you, but he was struggling.

"I saw how much you were straining, isn't this so much better?" you purred, and he bit his lower lip with a quiet response of "Mhmm," as he fought to keep his eye contact with you.

You noticed how he was trying so hard to remain composed, so you sped up your hand. He gasped and audibly moaned; he stayed upright for another three or four seconds before he fell forward and caught himself on the workbench.

His forehead rested on your shoulder, with one hand resting on he base of your neck, and the other against the bench.

The noises that spilled from him were sinful, but you wanted more.

He got louder as his hips moved against your rhythm, and you got a brief glimpse as to what he would feel like inside you as the ridges and veins of his cock pressed against your fingers.

You pressed your legs together to try and relieve some of the tension but it was useless, feeling him grip you so tightly and breathing so heavily against you was almost too much.

The grasp you had on him loosened until you fully let go, "No, please," he protested breathlessly and looked up at you with pleading eyes.

That image of him would be ingrained into your brain forever; his hair messy, with a few strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, whilst his glossy eyes bore into you with desire and desperation.

That would've been enough to get you through any more of his egotistical demands, but you were greedy, and too turned on to stop now.

"What do you want?" you cooed at him, brushing his hair back out of his face, "I want to fuck you," he quietly confessed.

You smiled, "What was that?" you teased, wanting him to say it louder.

"Please let me fuck you," he begged, and you affectionately caressed his cheek.

You reached behind you on the workbench until your fingers found what you were looking for, and once you did, you held it up proudly.

"Not today, pretty boy," you pinched the tip of his chin with your thumb and index finger to make him look at you, "I want to fuck you instead, is that okay?" you said with as much confidence as you'd ever had in your life.

He rapidly looked between your face and the strap you were holding, before he glanced towards the floor with a blush, but nodded.

"I'm going to need to hear you," you forced his eyeline back to you again. When he didn't immediately reply, you added with sincerity, "If you don't want to, that's also okay,".

Almost as soon as you'd provided him with a proverbial 'get-out-of-jail-free card', he shook his head "No, I want to, I really want to,".

"Are you sure?" you dropped all teasing and mocking tones you'd previously had to let him know that it was okay if he wasn't certain.

"One hundred percent sure," he confirmed with a smile, his eyes blown out and filled with desire.

You pulled his face to yours and kissed him deeply, your tongue exploring his mouth for a second before gently pushing him away.

You pointed to the black leather couch in between two of the desks and started to slip off your own pants as you ungraciously stepped into the harness, relieved that he had his back turned when you stumbled on one of the belts.

Once it was on, you reached into the bag you'd left on the side and pulled out the silicone cylinder you'd made months prior, and a bottle of lube.

When Jayce sat down and saw what you were holding, his eyes went wide with curiosity, "What is that?" the blue light reflected in his eyes.

You chuckled as you approached him, "I made it for me, for the rare times I get to be alone, it's intuitive to the user. If you want it bigger it'll get bigger, if you need it smaller it'll-" you explained but he interrupted.

"You've used it on yourself?" he asked with some of his usual confidence, his dick twitching as his mind clearly ran rampant, "Yes," you said with a mocking tone as an answer to his stupid question.

He was going to continue his questioning as he reached towards your crotch, but you playfully slapped his hand away, "You can touch me when I say you can," your voice reverted back to it's commanding tone.

"But I want to make you feel good too," he laid down on his back, taking up the majority of the couch by himself, but there was a small space for you between his legs.

"It will," you reassured him and placed the device through the metal ring, reaching into your own pants to move your underwear out of the way, and pressing the hooked end of it find your own hole.

The blue light got stronger as it slipped inside you, the sudden intrusion making you moan suddenly.

Jayce watched you eagerly as his breathing sped up again, his dick bouncing against his stomach when your moans hit his ears.

Now that it was in place with the phallic part protruding from the metal ring, you drizzled some lube onto it and rubbed it in with your hand.

He wouldn't admit it, but watching you stroke the device as if you had a dick of your own was extremely hot to him.

"Ready?" you asked as you positioned yourself between his legs. He lifted his hips and nodded eagerly.

You lined the tip of the dildo up with his asshole and rubbed gently, smearing the lube against it. When the device made contact with Jayce it moulded itself to be thinner, already working as you'd designed it.

As slowly as you could, you pushed the tip into him, breaching his tight ring with ease. Jayce whimpered as his eyes rolled back into his head, you pushed in a little further and then pulled back as far as you could without it coming out of him.

"I can t-take more," he moaned, and glanced down to where your crotches were connected.

You gave him a scorning look, "That's not how you ask," you pushed into him a little bit more, letting another whimper fall from him.

Inside you, the dildo reverberated and pushed itself deeper into you, but you were able to hold back the moan.

"Please, more," he begged, fully giving into your control. He wanted to hold out a little longer but it was impossible, between your lust-filled gaze and the dildo's ridges massaging his insides, he had no chance.

Happy with his pleading, you thrusted softly forward, pressing deeper into him, "Fuck!" he moaned loudly.

His hips squirmed as he tried to fuck himself onto it more than you were giving, the dildo slowly got thicker once he'd gotten used to the sensation.

You would be merciful this time since he had adjusted so well, and thrusted at a more natural pace, the device mimicking your movements inside you.

It pounded into you with a bit more ferocity than you were giving Jayce, it already being accustom to you. Moaning, you fell forward, catching yourself on Jayce's chest.

Somehow you'd managed to keep your eyes open. Watching how his cock bounced with every thrust, you could've help but imagine what it would feel like to be riding him instead.

Your genius had become your downfall as the intuitive nature of the dildo kicked in, widening and lengthening itself to be a replica of what you were seeing.

"Oh, g-god!" you threw your head back with pleasure, the constant pounding against your g-spot, alongside the stretch of the new design was all too much, your strangled moan echoed through the room.

Jayce's eyes opened so he could see your face and he almost came on the spot. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyebrows lifted into a knot of ecstasy, his own moans and whimpers a harmony of your own.

The fire inside you was burning hotter and hotter as you struggled to keep up your pace, whilst Jayce had found the perfect rhythm to manoeuvre his hips to your own.

He begged and pleaded with you not to stop, the word "Please" becoming his new mantra.

"Can I cum?" he asked you with a broken voice, his eyes finally meeting with yours. He looked so messy, pathetic and beautiful all at once, you couldn't deny him, "Yes," you barely got out.

You were barely holding on yourself, the tingling up your spine and your muscles going solid made it almost impossible for you to move anymore, but Jayce's bouncing kept the pace going.

A string of curses fell from Jayce's mouth as he gripped the base of his cock and pumped it a few times, that was all he needed to release the spurts of cum from him.

The moans and whimpers that Jayce made was enough to throw you over the edge, your hips thrusted wildly as you clenched around the dildo, your head going dizzy with euphoria.

Jayce watched your jaw fall open and the most beautiful sounds leave your throat, he never wanted to forget them, he only wished it was him that made you sound like that.

When the cloud of ecstasy faded, you removed the device and put it in the cleaning bag you'd brought with you.

Jayce cleaned up the mess he'd made on his own abdomen whilst you pulled your pants back on, the silence wasn't uncomfortable although it was obvious that you both wanted to address what had just happened, but neither of you wanted to be the first one to speak.

You picked up his clothes and handed them to him, "I'll see you in the morning," you caressed his cheek and he leaned into your palm with a soppy smile and puppy dog eyes that could melt your heart.

Things would be different in the morning. You weren't sure by how much, or for better or worse, but you knew everything would change now.

#kinkmas #jayce talis x reader #sub!jayce talis #dom!reader #jayce talis smut #jayce talis x you #arcane fanfic

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