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becertainlust · 2 months ago

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BIRTHDAY SUIT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis: Bakugo never made a big deal about birthdays—just another day in his book. But you're not letting this one slide. As his partner, you know better than anyone that under that explosive exterior lies a man who deserves to be worshipped. And tonight, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Dressed in nothing but a gift-wrapped surprise, you give him a present no one else ever could—you.

content: smut, shameless smut, established relationship, lingerie sex, birthday sex, reader takes the reins, blowjob, sloppy, cowgirl , orgasm,

Bakugo never cared about birthdays. For once, he'd let you celebrate him.

No grumbles, no sarcastic muttering under his breath about “dumb-ass traditions” or “waste of time.” No disappearing off to train. No flinching when his friends shouted “Happy Birthday, Katsuki!”

He actually stayed. Enjoyed it.

The apartment had been buzzing earlier with close friends, laughter, drinks, and too many snacks. But now, it was just you and him. The glow of warm lights filled the room, soft music playing low from the speaker. The scent of buttercream and spiced candles lingered in the air.

“Sit,” you said, nudging him down onto the couch.

He dropped onto it with a tired, satisfied huff, one arm slung over the backrest as he watched you crouch beside the small stack of gifts left on the coffee table.

“Ya didn’t have to do all this, y’know,” he muttered. “Just havin’ you around is—”

“Shut up,” you smirked, passing him the first box. “You can get sappy after we’re done with presents.”

He rolled his eyes, but the blush on his ears gave him away.

One by one, he opened them. A couple of gag gifts from Kaminari, a surprisingly thoughtful book from Todoroki, custom gloves from Kirishima. A shirt from you he’d side-eyed in a store window a few weeks ago but pretended not to like. He’d mumbled, “Not bad,” when he saw it then—but the way he smiled when he saw it again tonight? That soft, flickering look in his eyes?

Yeah. He remembered.

But the last gift made him still.

He turned the box in his hand like he didn’t quite recognize it, even though you knew he did. You watched his fingers move slower—more careful. He lifted the lid and saw it:

A first edition, limited-run All Might training journal.

Something he’d mentioned in passing once during a midnight walk months ago. Something he said he always wanted but could never find. He stared at it in silence, thumb brushing over the embossed edges.

“…You remembered that?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter. His eyes lifted to yours.

You smiled gently. “Of course I did.”

Bakugo swallowed hard, cheeks warming up in a way that had your heart blooming in your chest. “You’re insane,” he muttered. “You know that?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “A little.”

He blinked hard, then cleared his throat.

“Alright, alright—cake. Let’s get this over with before I start feelin’ like a damn Hallmark card.”

You brought over the cake, candles already lit, your face glowing in the soft flicker as you sang the most off-key, dramatic “Happy Birthday” you could manage. He groaned, but he didn’t stop you.

He blew out the candles.

You sliced two pieces, handed him a fork… then stole it right back.

“Say ah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You really gonna hand feed me right now?”

“Our wedding reenactment,” you smiled, lifting a bite to his mouth.

He opened it, still scowling—but barely—as you fed him a chunk of cake. He chewed, crimson eyes on you the whole time.

“Good?” you asked.

He gave a slow, appreciative nod. “Yeah. sweet.”

"that so..."

You leaned in, swiped a little frosting from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips looked so soft, gilding your frosted coated thumb onto them, then kissed it off his lips, pressing your own into the softness of his. It started soft.

But when your lips brushed his again—slow, and achingly warm, and just a little longer—his hands naturally found your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap. He kissed back, gentle but hungry, lips parting to taste more of you.

You murmured between kisses, breath hot against his mouth: “Birthday kiss.”

He blinked slowly, his lips still parted from the kiss, eyes dazed and focused only on you. His hands anchored warm on your waist, thumbs stroking slow, thoughtless circles into your skin through the thin fabric. His gaze trailed over your face—your lips, your flushed cheeks, your eyes so full of mischief and adoration.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, almost like it slipped out without permission.

You kissed the tip of his nose, giggling softly. “Thank you.”

And then?

His hold tightened. Just slightly. And he pulled you into his lap.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he muttered, voice thick and low, “I’m gonna forget we were takin’ things slow tonight.”

You leaned in, straddling him without hesitation, your thighs hugging his hips as you settled against him. His body welcomed you instantly, his hands sliding up your sides, fingertips dragging the fabric of your top slightly—like he wanted less of it between you.

“I was never planning to go slow, birthday boy” you whispered, brushing your lips just barely against his jaw. “especially tonight.”

His breath caught—sharp, audible. You felt it in his chest, the way it stuttered under your palms. His reaction was subtle, but every part of him twitched with anticipation: his hands, his legs beneath you, the slight lift of his hips like he was already imagining how this night would end.

“Got one more present for you,” you murmured into his ear. “The real one.”

Bakugo’s brows lifted, suspicious. “Thought that damn journal was the real one.”

You grinned, climbing off his lap for just a moment—enough to walk toward the bedroom with that sway you knew drove him wild.

He watched, chin propped on his hand, eyes darkening the second your fingers dipped beneath the hem of your top as you disappeared down the hall.

“Oi,” he called. “What kinda present needs you to change for it?”

You didn’t answer.

But when you reappeared in the doorway—lingerie clinging to your curves like a second skin, chosen with him in mind—Bakugo sat up so fast he nearly knocked the fork off the coffee table.

Your name left his mouth like a groan.

“Holy shit…”

You were wrapped in delicate black lace, the kind of thing he never thought he’d see outside a magazine, and even then—never on you. Never just for him.

His mind blanked.

No words, no witty comeback. Just the shape of you silhouetted in the soft golden light. The way the sheer material clung to your curves, catching every dip and swell like it had been tailored with him in mind. The way your thighs moved when you walked, slow and sure, like you knew what that sight alone was doing to him.

His mouth had gone dry.

And still, he sat back—frozen on the couch, like his body had been rooted to the spot. Only his eyes moved, dragging over you with almost painful reverence.

Your presence wasn't just seen. It was felt. In the sudden hush of the room. In the way the air itself seemed to shift as you crossed it. There was a softness to it—like watching a flame flicker behind glass. Dangerous, but so goddamn beautiful.

Something in his chest ached.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you like this—wanting him like this. That wide-eyed, breath-stolen reaction always snuck up on him.

His gaze caught on your collarbones, then drifted lower—hesitating on the swell of your breasts barely veiled by lace, down the soft line of your stomach, until it settled between your legs, where the thin strip of fabric left far too little to the imagination.

The sight knocked the wind out of him.

One of his hands, resting uselessly on his thigh, curled into a fist. The other—he didn’t even realize—had wiped itself discreetly on his jeans, sweat clinging to his palm.

Not from nerves. No. Never that.

Except maybe this time, it was.

Because you were walking toward him now, hips rolling, eyes locked onto his, and he could feel his body respond before his brain had even caught up. His mouth parted. Breath shallowed.

God, the way you moved. Like you were pouring yourself into every step. Like you weren’t just walking to him—you were offering yourself.

It made his pulse stutter.

And when you climbed back into his lap, warm skin settling over the growing heat in his jeans, he couldn’t think. All he could do was feel. Your nails dragging against the nape of his neck in ghost trails feather-light, his body withered under the touch. Your perfume mingling with his senses what scent was that? and why cant he stop sniffing you.

"You smell really good baby...really good" his nose ghosted your neck, hips pulling you closer. Your thighs oh so soft to him, bracket him so warmly.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

He just looked.

Admiration wasn’t something Bakugo handed out easily—not to friends, not to strangers, and definitely not out loud.

But he was looking at you now like you were everything. Like you were a dream made real. Like he didn’t know whether to kiss you, worship you, or fall to his knees for you.

He couldn’t stop drinking you in.

How had he gotten this lucky?

You kissed him again. Slowly, reverently. The kind of kiss that curled toes and short-circuited nerves. You would use a hand to pull him by the shirt, and when you pulled back just enough to murmur, “Happy birthday, Katsuki,” his lashes fluttered low, heat gathering in his face as he let the words sink in.

His breath hitched when your hands found his chest.

Just fingertips at first, dragging over the fabric of his shirt like you were memorizing him all over again. You didn’t rush—just let your palms glide across solid muscle, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath as your thumbs brushed the edge of his ribs.

He was already warm under your touch. And you hadn’t even done anything yet.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then another—lower, slower. Your lips parted against his throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a trail that dipped down the curve of his neck. His skin twitched under each one, the breath in his lungs turning shallow, rough.

“who knew you’d do something like this,” he murmured, but the strain in his voice made it sound more like a will to give in than a tease.

You didn’t answer. Just smiled against his skin, your teeth grazing lightly before you sucked. Gently—just enough to make him feel it. And then again, lower. His hands tensed at your waist.

You tilted your head to kiss along the other side of his neck, scattering another series of soft hickies—like you were branding him in lace and affection.

A groan vibrated in his chest.

Your fingers slipped to the hem of his shirt. He didn’t resist. Didn’t even move.

He just watched you. Quiet. Obedient in a way only you got to see.

You peeled his shirt up, inch by inch, revealing the planes of his stomach—warm, lightly flushed, his abs tightening beneath your gaze. You kissed his chest slowly as you exposed it, lips brushing across firm muscle, leaving kisses that lingered just a little too long.

You didn’t break eye contact.

Not once.

Even as you sank further down, mouth worshipping the path beneath his sternum. Even as your nails lightly scratched up his sides, drawing out a low hiss from between his clenched teeth.

His body was buzzing now—caught between restraint and surrender.

And it was beautiful to watch him come undone like this. Strong and scarred and still, somehow, soft for you.

His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched, one hand gripping your hip while the other fisted into the couch cushion. His thighs flexed beneath your hands.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word half breath, half plea.

You hummed softly, letting your lips hover just above his waistband.

“You’re warm,” you whispered, voice sultry and low, like you were letting him in on a secret. “All over.”

And he was.

Buzzing. Flushed. Waiting.

With his chest bare, his breathing ragged, and his eyes glassy with anticipation—he looked up at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Your lips hovered just above the waistband of his sweats, breath brushing against the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath the fabric. The muscles in his abdomen tensed again.

And still—you didn’t touch him where he wanted you to. Not yet. Instead, you lifted your gaze, locking eyes with him as your mouth curved in the faintest, knowing smirk. There was power in the way he was watching you. Tension in the way his thighs shifted restlessly beneath yours. Every inch of him buzzed. For you.

“Can I take these off Kats?” you asked, voice honey-slow.

Bakugo grunted, half-dazed. “… yeah.”

I mean what the hell were you asking him. If anything he just wanted on him immediately but it was all for you to watch him be a completely different person He sounded so obedient watching every moment like a patient puppy. His beautiful crimson eyes shimmering under the soft glow of the room.

Your fingers dipped under the waistband and dragged it down slow. The fabric caught on the hardened outline of him, and he hissed through his teeth as you freed him from the restraint.

His cock sprang up, flushed and heavy, already leaking at the tip. His hips twitched upward involuntarily, like his body was pleading before his mouth could catch up.

You made a sound of appreciation in the back of your throat—soft, reverent—before leaning in to press another kiss, just above the base. Your tongue flicked out, tasting the warm skin there. "You want me this much suki"

His whole body shuddered.

“Y-you're really gonna take your time with this, huh?” he muttered, voice rough, but low with awe.

You didn’t answer.

You just looked up again, lips parted, pupils blown, hands pressing to his thighs to steady him—before licking a slow, flat stripe from the base to the tip.

Bakugo cursed under his breath, his hand flying to the back of your head on instinct—but it never pushed, never forced. Just tangled in your hair, holding on for dear life.

Your mouth closed around him, warm and wet and unforgiving.

And he melted.

His head tipped back, jaw slack, a ragged moan slipping past his lips. You sucked him down slow—sloppy and deep—letting your tongue trace every sensitive vein, letting your spit drip down over your hand as you worked the base.

He was a mess.

Every time you hollowed your cheeks and sank lower, his thighs tensed. His breath hitched. His hips jerked upward before he caught himself, groaning through clenched teeth.

"Fuck... baby… you—goddamn."

You pulled back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, then sank down again, deeper this time.

And he twitched in your mouth, body locking up as you moaned around him.

The sound went straight to his spine—he was pulsing now, barely holding on.

When you pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to him in a string, you wiped your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, lips swollen, eyes hooded.

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, climbing back up into his lap. “Can I?”

Bakugo was panting. Eyes glassy. Completely undone.

He swallowed hard, leaning into your chest to whisper "Please.”

You hovered over him, your hair framing your face so bewitchingly. You lined him up with your entrance, already soaked and pulsing for him. And as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes rolled back and his hands grabbed your hips like he needed something to anchor him to this earth.

You moaned low as he stretched you open.

“Shit—so full,” you breathed, resting your palms on his chest.

“Look at me,” he rasped, voice trembling. “Wanna see your face.”

You did. And when your eyes met his—when he saw the way you looked at him, like he was the only one you ever wanted—his whole expression softened.

His hands caressed up your waist, slow, reverent.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered, voice shaking.

You didn’t move right away.

Not really.

Instead, you hovered just above him, your entrance brushing the slick, sensitive head of his cock—barely letting him in, just enough to tease. Just enough to let him feel the heat of you. Your thighs flexed slightly, hips rolling in slow, agonizing circles that dragged your soaked folds over the tip again and again.

A soft, wet sound filled the space between you. Your juices clung to him, thick and sticky, smearing across his shaft with every grind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head thunking back against the couch. “You’re—fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You smirked, gaze flicking up to watch him.

And god… the way he looked right now? His chest rising with every ragged breath, his lip bitten raw, his knuckles white where he clutched your hips. Every muscle in his thighs was trembling beneath you. Twitching with the restraint it took not to thrust up and bury himself in you.

You leaned forward, your chest brushing his while your hips stayed in motion—rocking slowly, teasing him with slick, hot friction.

“I thought this was your birthday,” you purred into his ear. “Shouldn’t I be giving you what you want?”

Bakugo grit his teeth, his jaw tight with tension.

“I do want this,” he growled. “You drivin’ me fuckin’ insane like this—teasin’ me—makin’ me feel like I’m gonna explode just from the tip—shit…”

You giggled, soft and wicked, and sat back just enough for him to watch.

One of your hands reached between you, guiding him so the head rested right at your entrance again. You gave a few slow bounces—just the tip sliding in and out, each time making him curse louder.

“S-shit! Baby—fuck—fuck, just let me in—” His voice cracked, his fingers digging into your skin like he was about to lose it.

You finally pressed your hips down a little more, letting him sink in halfway.

His mouth fell open, a deep, guttural curse ripping out of him. His head snapped forward to look at where you were taking him in, flushed and wide-eyed.

And you just smiled at the desperation in his gaze.

“are you feeling good baby,” you whispered, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.

“God—yes—fuck yes,” he hissed, eyes fluttering as you dropped down another inch. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. You always do. Always…”

You leaned in again, letting your breasts press to his chest as you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Then you better hold on,” you whispered, breath hot, “because I’m not gonna stop until you’re a mess for me.”

And with that, you finally sank down fully. All the way. His entire body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

He let out a strangled sound—somewhere between a moan and a gasp—his head rolling back, hands gripping your ass like he was holding onto sanity itself.

You didn’t move for a moment.

Just stayed there, so full of him, clenching around him until he twitched helplessly inside you. And then—slowly, sinfully—you started to ride.

Your hips began to move again—slow, like honey melting in warm sun, like a wave building over time until it crashes. You circled them, let your walls flutter around him just to feel the way he shuddered beneath you. His eyes opened halfway, heavy-lidded and glazed, following every sensual sway of your body like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And to him—it was.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, your palms gliding up his abdomen. “You’re so deep.”

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, but his hips bucked once—shallow, needy. You kept your pace measured, deliberate, grinding down into him with that same velvet friction that made his head roll back again.

“Shit,” he groaned, the sound low and desperate. His hands were clutching at your waist now, not to guide, but to ground himself. “You’re squeezin’ me so good, mmm"

You leaned down slowly, dragging your lips across his collarbone. Then lower—pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, his nipple. As you moved, your body rolled into his, your rhythm never faltering, hips undulating in a steady, torturous rhythm.

Every time you sank down, he twitched inside you, groaning louder.

“I love the way you sound baby,” you whispered, licking the salt from his skin. “All desperate and sweet. My perfect birthday boy.”

He looked at you like he’d melt.

One of his hands slipped up your back, tangled into your hair, tugging lightly as you nuzzled his neck. You licked a stripe just beneath his ear, then suckled gently at his skin, your teeth dragging slightly—leaving soft, loving hickeys along his neck and collar.

And every one had him groaning, his cock jerking inside you.

“Gonna mark you up tonight,” you murmured. “So everyone knows who you belong to.”

“I already do,” he rasped, voice nearly broken, “fuckin’ been yours.”

You smiled into his skin and sat back again, palms braced against his chest as you began to bounce now—slow, deep, full bounces that had him clenching his jaw and moaning through his teeth. His abs flexed beneath your hands. His hands gripped your hips tighter.

Your name left his lips like a prayer.

Your hips found a rhythm—delicious, sticky, sinful—and the way he filled you, the way he responded to every little grind, made your legs start to tremble.

He felt it. His hands slid down to cup your ass again, helping support your movements as he watched you from beneath heavy lashes.

“Baby,” he breathed. “You’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me come—just like this?”

You leaned forward again, kissed him deep, then pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Yes. Inside. Don’t hold back. I want you to come just like this.”

He let out a wrecked moan, his hips finally thrusting up to meet yours, matching your rhythm.

Faster now.

Deeper.

You clung to his shoulders, your mouth falling open as the coil inside you tightened and tightened—

And then he gasped—eyes rolling to close, mouth open and his cock twitching violently inside you as he spilled, deep and thick and hot, fingers bruising your hips while he cursed your name like a confession.

You didn’t stop.

Not even then.

Still slow. Still steady. Still riding out every aftershock as he moaned beneath you, overstimulated and undone. His eyes fluttered open, glassy and soft as they met yours. His hair stuck to his forehead. His chest heaved. His hands slid up your spine, arms curling around you as he held you close.

Your chest heaved against his, his heart pounding against your ribcage like a war drum. He was still buried deep, twitching, oversensitive—but you didn’t move. You just cradled his face, tilted it up so he had no choice but to look at you.

“Listen to you,” you whispered, voice sultry and sweet as sin. “Mouth full of curses… all because I couldn’t help creamin’ all over this fat cock.”

Bakugo groaned through clenched teeth, face flushed and jaw tight like he was holding onto the last thread of sanity.

“You heard it, didn’t you?” you murmured, grinding just enough to make him jolt, to let another wet, obscene squelch fill the space between you. “God, the noise we made—bet our neighbors think I was drowning in it.”

He groaned louder, head falling back against the couch.

You leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth, slow and lingering, then whispered, “Soaked you, Katsuki. You feel how messy I made you? Look at your lap—look at what you did to me.”

He peeked down—eyes glassy—and let out another hoarse, broken curse when he saw the slick still glistening between your thighs, watching how you both were still connected before you lift your hips to show him, with such a sly smile it did something to him, watching his cum dripping slowly out of you onto him.

You guided yourself back in, rocking your hips again, so delicately, and he twitched inside you, helpless. His whole body shivered with a groan, his head collapsing on your shoulder "fuck enough"

You grinned. “You liked it when I sat there and shook my ass on it, didn’t you? Teasin’ you right on the tip ‘til you were cussin’ like you were about to lose your damn mind, yeah?” you grind.

“You’re—fuckin’ evil,” he gasped, fingers twitching against your waist.

You kissed his jawline this time, biting lightly just below his ear. His hands gripped you tighter again, like he was about to flip the script—but he was still spent, still weak from how you dropped your ass on him, He just held you there instead, breathing ragged, letting you purr filth against his skin.

"A little"

#bakugo katuski #mha smut #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #boku no hero academia #becertainlust #birthday smut #birthday sex #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou

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cherry-hulu · 9 months ago

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— Shows on 3.. 2.. 1..

Synopsis : Thirteen dicks in front of you, all standing tall with varying girth and size. Not a matter of when and where, but rather a matter of how.

Warnings : Svt x Idol!fem reader, unprotected sex, double penetration, triple penetration, lots of cum, anal, buttplug, breastplay, implied free use reader, creampie, cum eating, oral (fem receiving), pwp

#Part One — #Part Two — #Part Three

Seokmin gets up on his feet first before anyone and immediately stands in front of you. He touches your cheek with the back of his hand before using his fingers to open your mouth, pressing his thumb at the top of your tongue soaking it in the left over cum of his peers.

Joshua follows him almost immediately after, situating himself behind you, caressing your ass sigh his hands. "Not a single handprint in sight.. we might have to change that." He mutters before giving your cheeks a slap causing you to slightly jolt forward.

"Sit up princess, it'll feel better like this," Soonyoung says rather softly as he slowly lifts your body up on a sitting position, as you lean your body backwards on Joshua. You looked like a total wreck. Make-up running all over your face, body glistening with sweat and cum, dress all wrinkled and messy. A big difference from what you had looked like earlier on stage, all prim and proper, clean and dainty, everything set in place.

You feel Joshua slip his hands underneath your top, grabbing a handful of your left boob before taking it out and letting it hang off from your top. Doing the same go the other while Hoshi licks all over your left tit, sucking and biting your areola. Seokmin, on the other hand, had a different vision as he takes his hard dick in hand, rubbing the tip all over your right tit spreading his pre-cum.

Sighing with satisfaction, he leans down and takes your right boob in his mouth, licking it clean off your pre-cum. The blonde beside him groans as he pulls away, doing the same to your left before diving back in, moaning in delight. Soonyoung slides his hands down across your stomach before drawing circles on your pussy.

You moan as you threw your head back resting it on the eldest shoulders, chest heaving heavy, hips rocking back and forth on Soonyoungs hands.

You can feel Joshua's dick press hard against you, teasing the the rim of your ass, hole plugged with a silver buttplug embossed with a big ruby heart— a gift brought to you by yours truly. He slapped your cheeks again, much more harder this time making you really feel the toy up in your ass causing you to whimper.

"Please.." You whisper, finally talking after an hour of being silent. "Please what baby?" The man behind you whispered back, pushing the plug deeper than it already is. "Please Daddy.. I need you.." You spoke softly, half an octave louder this time.

"Do you think she deserves it?" Soonyoung, finally de-attatching himself from your tit, now rubbing the tips of it. "I don't know.. has she been good?" Jeonghan said rather brazen, asking the spent up members scattered among the couch legs in a manspread, some dicks were soft, while some were still half hard, looking for another release.

They all hum in agreement, and with that, Joshua slowly took off your plug revealing more cum to drip out of you. Blotches of semen combining the sperm of 95z when they had their "pre-game" before going on stage came running down your ass, down to your cunt.

Not wasting a second longer, Joshua slowly started to push into you making you gasp and moan at the intrusion. Seokmin finally pulls away giving Soonyoung space to situate himself in front of you lifting your thighs to sit both on his and Joshua's leg. He waited before the elder and you were comfortable with each other before grabbing his own length in his hands and gliding it across your pussy.

Toying with you for a while, preparing you for what's about to come, before slowly pushing in your pussy. Joshua holds your hand behind your back keeping you in place as you make loud noises while Seokmin makes his way in you. It wasn't your first time taking both of them at the same time, but somehow, it never gets easier.

"Good job baby.. taking it like a good girl. Our pretty little cock sleeve," Seokmin coos as he cups your face in one of his hands. "Ready for one more?" He follows, a smirk well displayed on his face. Your eyes widen at this as he positions himself behind you, beside Joshua.

"She's more than ready, had the plug on for the whole duration of her performance, 'm sure she'll be fine." The elder says caressing your waist sliding down to the curve of your ass. The youngest scoffs at this before holding his dick and slowly starting to push in you.

You moan loudly, throwing your head back again, grinding back and forth– which only made you moan louder as Soonyoungs dick just goes deeper inside of you hitting your sweet spot. You hold on to the man in front of you as Seokmin makes his way behind you.

A few grunts, pushes, and pulls later, you had 2 dicks up your ass, and one sitting politely in your cunt. Barely giving you time to adjust, the two slowly starts to move back and forth, earlier cum now used as lube as they take advantage of it with their thrusts.

Soonyoung then follows in front of you, thrusting his hips upwards. At this very moment, you serve only one purpose for them. You were only a hot hole to be fucked and dumped cum into. Providing pleasure to their penis.

Their thrusts become harder and harder, in sync with your barely made out moans. There was never a moment where you felt empty, a rhythm forming between the three, where one goes outwards, the other two goes in. They were all hitting your right spots putting you near the edge.

Nearly forgetting about the rule, you clench your stomach to stop yourself from cumming. Resulting in an abrupt orgasm from Soonyoung, spurts of cum running directly inside you, mixing in with his his dongsaengs. But he still didn't stopped, still thrusting inside of you, riding out his high.

The set behind you seemed to be in a world of their own having their own rhythm as the dancer in front loses itself inside of you having erratic movements. Joshua's hands were all over your ass, constantly slapping it now loving the way it jiggled wigh two cocks inside of it splitting your hole up open.

"I.. I'm close.. fuck.." Seokmin whispers throwing his head back as his arms wrap around your throat leaning your head backwards. Using this as his leverage to keep himself grounded as he pounds faster into you.

Joshua, on the other hand, had his mouth open taking heaving heavy breaths as he too was getting affected by the others movements due to his cock being stroked sideways. Resorting to your body, he grips on your waist, thrusts slowly starting to speed up as he too chases for his high.

With both dicks grinding on each other and pounding into you, both boys soon came inside adding go the pile cum already pumped inside of you.

Seokmin rests his head on your shoulded as he starts to slow his movements, while Joshua leaves light feather kisses on your neck. Soonyoung slowly pulls away from you, making sure to plug his fingers inside of you ensuring not that much cum seeps out before lifting your legs to his shoulders as he kneels before you.

Leaning your body backwards more to the boys behind you, he positions himself in front of your cum covered pussy, before taking his fingers out and diving right in. You cry out a string of moans as he eats you out helplessly, trashing in the arms of the two boys behind you.

You were trying so hard to keep yourself from cumming, but the boys were making it hard on you, continuously pushing you to the edge. You were extremely overstimulated now– having two cocks still up your ass while your cum filled cunt was being eaten out.

"I.. I'm c.. close.. Please! No... No more!" You beg pushing Soonyoungs face away. Tears ran profusely from your eyes. You really did felt like you were close this time. You were extremely on the edge until you felt Soonyoung pull away from you.

The dancer now had his head leaned beack, hair gripped by the general leader. "That's enough." Seungcheol says sharply, pulling him away from you. You felt movement behind you, two cocks slipped out of your ass, leaving you empty once again.

You close your eyes as you whimper and lay back. You felt a kiss on your forehead, and hands running all over your body. "Last round baby.. then you can rest. M'kay?"

⭑ tags .ᐟ

@hanniebanggi @ane102 @black-swan-blog27 @xxxcyx @strawberry31

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hanasnx · 2 years ago

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MINORS DNI 18+

“This way, sweetheart, this way!” the clambering voices of the paparazzi build and crowd your ears. Flashing lights of pictures being taken leave imprints on your vision, but you smile through it. Your hands are dutifully wrapped around BLACK NOIR’s thick bicep, and you tilt your head against his shoulder as he leads you through the line of press.

“Black Noir’s girlfriend, over here! Look at me!”

“Right here, honey, right here!”

A warm palm pats against the top of your hand, and you glance up at Noir. You’ve gotten exceptionally talented at telling his signs, and he’s eyeing you from the side. A silent and familiar question that has you moistening your lips, retreating with him to the restroom as soon as you can afford to slip away.

“Couldn’t wait to get me back, huh?” you question, winded from effort as mean fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, guiding you up and down. “You know you’re supposed to be working, right? Can’t believe you needed a pussy break.” you chide. Fat cock drives into you at a harsh pace, bracing your hands on the stall dividers for support. With each of his thrusts up, a soft grunt expels through his nose, and it makes you shiver. Your fingers come to toy with his lips through his mask, the scarring embossed underneath it, sliding against your pads. “So fucking horny, baby. Is it ‘cause they called me your girlfriend?” To punctuate your point, you seat yourself, fully sheathing his every inch. “Huh? You like when they call me your little girlfriend?” He nods, only once, but it’s enough. Tenderly, your cup the nape of his neck, and use it as leverage for how you rock back and forth on his cock. His hands slide down your waist, over the folds of your hiked up dress, to grab at your ass. Gloves knead and smack at it, jiggling the flesh as you take your time in rolling your body on his cock.

“You—“ your own whimper interrupts you, his tip brushing the spongy spot inside of you from this angle. “—you think they know you’re fucking your little girlfriend in this fucking restroom?” At the mention, he claws into the globes of your ass, yanking you closer to him and consequently shoving himself impossibly deeper. A pitchy whine is drawn from you, and one of his hands comes to wedge in between you two. The tips of his fingers smooth out your lower abdomen, as if to let you know he’s right there. You can feel the tip of him right there, poking out. He didn’t have to say much for you to get the picture. Especially when he presses into it, bringing your g-spot right to his swollen head. You arch back with a gasp, stars like fireworks in your eyes as you chase that feeling. Faithfully, he keeps that pressure while you rock into it. His grip on your ass telling you: That’s right. That’s what I want from you. That’s a good little girl.

You’re supposed to be here in support of his newest movie; the premiere had been the talk of the media for weeks. And here you are in the public restroom of the theater, blowing it off so you can leave a cum stain on your boyfriend’s crotch.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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The Gray Woman 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn't help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"Five thousand." The man slaps his card down and flicks it through the slot of the plastic window.

"Five thousand," you repeat.

"In cash. Hundreds, sweetheart. Oh, actually, do about five hundred in ones," he winks.

You don't humour him by reacting. Your skin crawls nonetheless. The implication of the last part of his request is clear. You merely stare back at him. He's not unusual. Executives strut in all the time with their demands. It's never a request, no please, no thank you. They only tell you what to do.

"Yes, sir. I would need your ID," you take his card from the counter and feel the embossed letters on the matte black plastic.

He scoffs, "my ID? I gave you my damn card."

You don't flinch. Not for him. You've worked this desk long enough not to even feel his anger. He's just another spoiled brat in an overpriced suit. The metropolitan bank is an ocean swimming with the likes of him; hair slicked with smelly pomade, feet bedecked in tacky designer loafers, and jackets lined with silk. You couldn't pick him out of a batch of your usual clientele.

"It is procedure, sir. For security. We must confirm your identity and make note of the large transaction--"

"Large transaction? It's pennies," he scoffs.

"Sir, I'm only following protocol. For your safety." You insist.

He snarls as you remain placid. Your lack of reaction doesn't please him. He jabs his finger onto the marble ledge on the other side of the plastic window. "Manager. Now." He pokes again. "Get me your manager."

"Yes, sir, a moment," you slide forward in the chair and step onto the lower bar of the tall legs.

"While you're at it, why don't you crack a smile?" He snipes.

You climb down without response, his card still in hand, and turn to find Veronique. You've been told to do so many a time. You don't give in. It's not that you don't smile, you just prefer to have a reason for that. You're not grim by any measure, just reserved. You don't believe in exhuberance.

As you cross the floor, you look down at the card in your hand. You can just make out the plastic letters; Lloyd M. Hansen. The name might be familiar, you may have even helped him before, but you can't recall.

You long-legged supervisor with her auburn red hair, waved to compliment her long oval face, stands with Gianni, giggling at the Account Manager as he postures. You approach and steel yourself for the interaction. She doesn't notice you as you stand right by her elbow.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me."

"Oh, pardon me, Gianni," she peers over at you, "what is it, dear?"

"A customer is unhappy. He does not want to show his ID." You say.

"Oh, gosh, forgive me, Gianni," she looks back to the manager and preens. "Gotta make sure everyone's happy, don't I?" She spins and nudges you away from the man in his pin-striped arrogance. She lowers her voice as she stomps in her heels, "do I have to do everything around here?"

"I tried--"

"Zip it," she warns and looks ahead. "Bonjour, Mr. Hansen, comment ca va?" She puts her on her faux French accent.

Your chest hollows out. Of course, she would know him. You already know how this goes.

"Well, Ronnie, this pinch-faced brat you got working for you won't give me my money," he crosses his arms and leans them against the ledge. Brat? You're probably not that much younger than him, and likely more mature.

"Oh, my, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, monsieur," she trills and rears on you, "go get his money."

You blink, "yes, ma'am."

Her lip curls slightly. She doesn't like that. It makes her feel old. It's as much rebellion as you have in you. Subtlety always does better.

You turn and go to the safe. You put the bills through the counting machine, taking your time, then return to your desk. As you approach, Veronique lets out another of her high-pitched giggles.

The man on the other side, Hansen, stands straight, his arms still folded, and coughs. It's nothing in his throat, you know what it is. You push his card through the slot then climb up calmly into your chair.

You count the bills by hand as Veronique hovers like a hawk. You record the withdrawal as you pause.

"Once again, Monsieur Hansen, we apologise," she fawns, "it is only that she did not recognise you." She lowers her voice and leans into the window, hiding her mouth even though you can obviously hear her, "we think her hearing is going a bit."

You continue to count and state the total evenly as you slide it under the window, "five thousand, sir."

"Great," he checks his watch, "only took ten minutes out of my day to do what could be done in ten seconds."

He clamps his hand over the money and shakes his head. You close out of his account as Veronique lingers.

"I will be sure this does not happen again," she avows. "I hope you have a wonderful day."

He grumbles and says nothing else. He catches your gaze and his eyes narrow. You calmly reach for your pen and turn back to your computer. The next client steps forward and blocks him out.

"How can I help you today?" You ask, moving onto the next without another thought. It's just another day. Always the same. Good and bad.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #the gray man #the gray woman

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rista-senpai · 21 days ago

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Gojo Satoru x f!reader 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: He was powerful. Far too powerful for your family to stand against when he declared war on your entire clan. You were prepared for anything he might bring to the negotiation table. But your family had other plans. Now, you share an estate with him. Eat at the same table. Attend every event together — hand in hand. All to maintain the illusion of a perfect couple. But behind the smiles and the show lies a different story: A quiet war of calculated insults, restrained violence, and forbidden touches too dangerous to name.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤&𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: dark romance, heir au, enemies-to-lovers trope, arranged marriage, fake relationship for the public, little age-gap (reader is 23, Gojo is 29), sharp tongues, flirty to threatening in seconds, a bit of slow burn

𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤: @naznaz122 on X

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥

CHAPTER ONE

The Gojo Clan had declared war.

It started with a single letter. Sealed in white wax, the family crest embossed like a curse. Your father read it with trembling hands, the lines of his face folding deeper as he reached the last sentence:

“Marry off your daughter to me. Or watch everything you built burn.”

The paper slipped from his fingers, landing on the carpet like a death sentence.

His advisors had already started panicking—Gojo Satoru wasn’t just a man, he was a storm. A living weapon in white linen. Powerful, unbending, with a reputation for crushing anything that stood in his way and smiling while he did it. His words were honeyed poison. And the proposal?

It wasn’t a proposal.

It was mercy, disguised as matrimony.

And that’s how you ended up here.

In a wedding dress stitched with pearls and dread, standing in front of a mirror you could barely look into. The sleeves were too tight. The neckline too low. The weight of the veil too heavy. And still—none of it compared to the ache in your chest. It throbbed, raw and sharp, like your body was trying to reject the very idea of what was happening.

Your mother fussed behind you, adjusting the white silk with trembling hands. Her reflection met yours in the mirror, a sad echo of composure.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered, voice cracking like the porcelain of your composure.

“I look trapped,” you murmured.

Her hands stilled, just for a second. But she didn’t correct you. What could she say? Fight back? Run?

No. You were the family’s final bargaining chip. Their only insurance. The lamb in lace was offered to the wolf with a tongue made of ruin.

Somewhere outside, the church bells rang.

Three slow chimes.

Time was up.

⸻

They led you down the aisle like a prisoner to the gallows.

You barely heard the music. Your heart pounded loudly. Every step echoed through your bones, each one heavier than the last. Your eyes stayed fixed on the carpet, on the white petals scattered at your feet, too afraid to look at the man waiting at the end of the aisle.

But you felt him.

Gojo’s presence wasn’t one you could ignore. He was too tall, too confident, too unbothered. That damned smirk tugged at his lips like he was enjoying the spectacle. A king watches his kingdom swallow yet another sacrifice.

When you reached him, he offered you his hand.

You didn’t take it.

The officiant cleared his throat awkwardly. You forced yourself to look up—and your eyes met his.

That piercing blue.

That fucking smile.

“Shy already?” he whispered, low enough for only you to hear. “We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet, wife.”

You clenched your jaw. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

⸻

The ceremony was a blur of nausea and forced smiles. You remembered flashes—your fingers digging into the bouquet like it could anchor you, the weight of a ring sliding onto your finger, Gojo leaning in during the vows just a little too close, his breath brushing your cheek like a threat.

When the officiant declared you man and wife, Gojo didn’t kiss you.

No.

He brushed his lips against your cheek, just enough to humiliate you publicly without overstepping. It was cruel. Strategic. A game already in motion.

There had been applause. Champagne. A dance you didn’t want.

Eyes on you like vultures picking apart a corpse.

And that was it.

You belonged to him now.

Taglist: @mitsurisupporter @milabyxz @shadyyouthcloud @cjafjatkstke @fianur @sky-casino @lemonninq @raspberrizzz @lavishlyjayda @blackqueen2k17 @livlikelove @uobasu @sylviatherosairy @jammycheese @reth66@storacy @pikusururu @bubera974 @stormnightingale @emmathecouchpotato4583 @alebrasil0101 @amayakurusu13 @misakicchi @snowy-violet @daiyanomoichi @maria-trisha @cruziival72 @xtremlyxtra @xxeclipze @vesselofwinter @vandrirrand0m @ssolarsystm

WELCOME BACK! I hope you really enjoy this series! This is what I've been working on lately. Curious to see your thoughts on it.

#anime and manga #fandom #fanfic #writing #writers on tumblr #hope you enjoy it!#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk fanfic

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meadowfics · 5 months ago

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declined invite

the salesman / recruiter x gn!reader

the mysterious man pays you a visit after you do not call the card number

warnings: threats. manipulation. salesman takes a special interest to you. no gender for reader specified.

you had never been one for public transportation.

its been a rough week...rent overdue, your job barely covering expenses, and an argument with your sister kim about your financial irresponsibility.

tonight, you found yourself sitting at the edge of a subway platform, the fluorescent lights overhead flickering like they, too, were barely holding on.

a sigh left your lips as you rubbed your temples, trying to push away the headache forming behind your eyes. that’s when you sensed someone sitting down next to you.

at first, you did not mind. its the subway after all, you cannot tell anyone to move somewhere else.

however, you started to feel eyes on you.. then,

"excuse me."

you looked up, blinking in confusion at the well-dressed man sitting beside you. a sleek suit, a warm but eerily calculated smile.

he held up a briefcase, setting it on the seat beside him with an effortless grace.

"would you like to play a game?"

you frowned.

"excuse me?"

you didn't have time for salesman workers who frequent the streets to cheat on their wives at home. you've heard about those situations.

however, the man pulled out a stack of folded papers.before you could question it, he flipped them open, revealing two neat stacks of blue and red ddakji tiles.

"i'll make it simple," he said smoothly, tilting his head.

"we take turns throwing these, trying to flip the other player's tile. if you win, you get a hundred thousand won. if i win… well, you owe me your body. nothing vulgar, just a slap on the cheek."

you scoffed, shaking your head.

"i'm not interested."

"are you sure?"

the salesman’s eyes twinkled.

"it’s free money. surely, you have nothing to lose."

your arms crossed instinctively.

“i don’t play games with strangers.”

he chuckled, shuffling the tiles between his fingers before setting them down neatly.

"oh, but you do play games. just not ones you win."

your body stiffened.

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"you gamble. not with money...because you don't have any...but with your chances in life. you take risks constantly, trusting people you shouldn't, spending time in places you shouldn't."

he tapped his knee, mockingly thoughtful.

"like the shady bar down the street. the one you frequent when you’re avoiding your older sister's lectures. whiskey neat, always."

your breath hitched.

"or that friend you loaned money to last year. the one who promised to pay you back but never did. how much was it? a million won?"

your heart pounded.

“who the hell are you?”

he ignored your question, his smile unwavering.

"you’re not a very lucky person, are you?"

your throat went dry.

"i don't want to play your stupid game."

he exhaled dramatically.

"what a shame."

he began packing up the tiles with deliberate slowness, but then he pulled out a sleek brown card, sliding it toward you.

"but if you ever change your mind, call this number."

you stared at it, hesitating before picking it up. embossed in the center was a symbol of three shapes.

a circle, a triangle, and a square.

no name. no details. just a number.

you swallowed thickly, then shoved the card into your pocket.

you needed to get out of here.

now.

you spent the next few days holed up at your older sister's house, avoiding anything that felt remotely like a coincidence.

you didn’t leave, didn’t touch your phone unless absolutely necessary.

kim, of course, noticed.

"y/n," she called from the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"what’s going on with you?"

you forced a laugh.

"what do you mean?"

"you’ve been acting paranoid ever since you got here. jumping at noises, locking the door twice. are you in trouble?"

"no,"

you lied, avoiding her gaze.

"i just… needed a break from everything."

kim studied you with a skeptical look, but before she could press further, her phone buzzed.

"well, i have to run some errands,"

she said, still eyeing you.

"please don’t burn the house down while i’m gone."

"yeah, yeah,"

you muttered, waving her off.

the moment the door shut, silence settled over the house.

you exhaled, rubbing your temples. maybe you were overreacting.

maybe that man was just a really creepy con artist.

then came the knock.

you stilled.

it was soft at first. then a second knock, louder.

probably a neighbor, you thought. they were always borrowing something from your sister. you rose from the couch and walked to the door, fingers curling around the knob.

the second you opened it...your blood ran cold.

the salesman.

his smile widened.

"hello again, y/n."

panic seized your chest. you moved to slam the door, but he caught it with an iron grip, slipping inside before you could react.

"whoa there," he chuckled.

"no need to be rude."

"get the hell out of my house!"

you hissed, backing away.

he took a step forward, hands slipping into his pockets.

"i was just wondering why you never called the number."

you gawked at him.

"because i don’t have a death wish?!"

his grin didn’t falter.

"you think calling the number means death?"

"yes!"

your voice rose.

"look, i don’t know what you are or who you work for, but i’m not interested in being kidnapped, sold off, or whatever the hell this is!"

he hummed, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"funny. most people say that before they change their minds."

"i won’t."

he tilted his head.

"are you sure?"

silence stretched between you. the air felt suffocating.

then, he leaned in slightly.

"you have no job. you have no savings. you owe money to people you don’t even remember. lets not get started on your sister? well…"

he smirked.

"you’re getting a little too comfortable depending on her, aren’t you?"

you swallowed hard.

"there’s a way out, y/n,"

he said, voice smooth as silk.

"no more struggling. no more scraping by. just one game. and if you win… you’ll never have to worry again."

you shook your head, but doubt wormed into your mind.

"is this prostitution?"

he shook his head no.

"its not. but y/n, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t considering it,"

he continued.

"you wouldn't be so afraid if you didn’t believe...deep down...that this might be your only chance."

your hands trembled.

"why are you telling me all this?"

his smirk widened.

"because i need all 456 players."

your pulse thundered in your ears.

he stepped back, as if giving you space to breathe.

"think about it," he said simply, turning toward the door.

"but don't take too long. opportunities like this don’t come twice."

with that, he walked out, shutting the door behind him as if he had never been there at all.

your legs nearly gave out.

for a long time, you stood frozen, staring at the door.

slowly, shakily, you pulled out the card from your pocket, your fingers hovering over the numbers.

you inhaled sharply.

then you called.

masterlist

#gong yoo #the salesman squid game #squid game #squid game s2 #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #the salesman

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thedarksilkpen · 2 months ago

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On The Desk of Dekarios

pure porn inspired by a request from @the-phoenix-and-the-dragon! This spiraled out of control into around 2,000 words, sorry.

I was like "oh professor dekarios means he has a desk means desk sex, lets go". anyway, enjoy.

this is barely edited since i wanted to get this out before i had to go back to work and my break is short sorry~~

Pairing: Gale x Tav (Reader) WC: 2,155 Summary: Gale is able to be "unleashed" after his orb is under control, and shows you exactly how much he's been holding back on you. Tags: teasing, from behind, hair pulling, hand sucking, fingering, maybe slightly out of character, i got carried away NSFW

(Suggestions/pairings/spicy ideas or challenges are welcome!)

The nights have always carried a hum of restraint between you and Gale, a thread of tension spun tight by necessity. Every kiss, every lingering touch, is drawn out with aching patience. His body, warm and wanting, presses against yours only to still, breath trembling as he murmurs about "control," about "care," about the lurking danger of the orb that pulses just beneath his skin. It’s sweet. Torturous, but sweet. Beautiful in a way that leaves you burning from the inside out.

You have learned to be patient. Mostly.

Still, you have your moments.

You love teasing him. A whisper of your fingers at the edge of his belt, a slow grind of your hips when he least expects it, a wicked smile shot over your shoulder when his hands twitch at his sides. You take pride in the way he clenches his jaw, his knuckles whitening as he reins himself in with iron will. He is always careful. Always considerate. Always good.

Until now.

Now, the orb is silenced. Mastered. His body, once a ticking heart of danger, hums only with power he commands. Gale’s eyes are dangerous where they used to be cowed and nervous, and the tempest of untapped power swirls dangerously there, always drawing your eye.

And the way he looks at you tonight—standing behind the desk of his new office at the University, sleeves pushed back, eyes dark and glittering with intent—tells you that patience is no longer part of the equation. He stands from the large seat behind his desk, almost sliding out with an eager slither of his figure and rounding it so he can approach you. Gale leans back against his desk and folds his arms across his chest, a self-sure smile on his handsome face. He crosses one ankle over the other, leaning comfortably and confidently; he has the stance of a man who knows his whole life is ahead of him, and his.

You shift in place, a slow awareness prickling along your skin. Gale steps forward, stalking you with the easy confidence of a man who has spent years studying the art of restraint and has finally, finally, cast it off. The crimson beneath your cheeks grows hotter, feeling his arcane gaze roam up and down your body, and you stifle a heavy swallow as the seconds tick by. One look tells you everything he's thinking. You turn your eyes away, swallowing the growing lump of nerves in your throat, palms sweaty as they clutch the heavy textbook between two delicate and not at all clammy hands. Gale finally releases you from his stare and turns his head to the side slightly to sweep his palm to the stack of documents and texts on his desk; white sheets over wood, inked with a fine ornate design and a large "GD" embossed on them.

“Add the text to the stacks, hm? I have a lot to go through later this evening, it seems.” You nod and lean forward quickly, the spell finally broken by his voice. "Good girl." The praise settles deep in your gut with a sensation like a warm blanket, stoking the fire that's been roiling there ever since the new professor’s sly and unobtrusive proposal. Now that he's here, an inch away, with the office door closed and not even a teacher’s assistant listening in, you feel an odd airy sort of light-headedness.

Gale leans forward slightly, testing the waters. There is no jumping back, no backing away as if burned by fire. Instead, there is a growing tightness in the space between your hips and an audible intake of breath. The small sound is enough for Gale to lean down, running the tip of his nose along the smooth, gentle curves of your neck and inhaling deeply. A gentle nudge in the space below your ear causes you to stutter out a ragged breath, another deep inhale and he growls lightly at your neck, one hand coming to land gentle on your upper thigh.

"You always did enjoy provoking me," he finally says, his voice a low purr. "I think it’s high time I repaid the favor," he croons, breath hot and heavy, tinged with the slight hint of black tea. When you nod shakily he huffs out a soft laugh again, pulling back slightly as his hand travels farther upward. "I want to see your face," Gale says, his voice low, "when I get to fuck you for the first time as a whole man."

As soon as you make a sound his hand is at the junction of your legs, pressing directly between your thighs with little room to escape; the sensation alone makes your lips part in a silent plea for more. His fingers flex and you tremble underneath him, the growing wet patch on his palm only making his smugness more apparent. It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing— he’s been holding out on you… holding back. His tongue moves to wet his lips again, this time in anticipation of things to come, eyes dark and his jaw tight as he stares down at you.

He gestures once, a lazy flick of his fingers, and you gasp as unseen magic tugs at your wrists, binding them loosely together with threads of shimmering force. It’s delicate, ornamental almost, but the implication is clear. Your breath stutters as the magic presses you down over his desk, your ass raised and on display for him. Your hands hit the surface at the same time that your knees bonk into the hard paneled wood-- it's loud and effective, but doesn't make your knees sting or ache. He kneels behind you, hands skimming down your thighs and back up as he carries the fabric with it.

"You teased a man who once entertained a goddess," he murmurs against your newly exposed thigh, his breath warm. "Did you truly think I would be anything but... thorough, once I was my own man again? Let’s see," he muses, almost to himself, "just how many ways I can make you beg."

Gale’s hips press against your ass, the not so subtle bulge of his cock perfectly in line with you through his professor's robes. The urge to be filled, to feel him in you, to forget the words to everything you just finished studying-- you feel so incredibly warm.

“Gods, I want you,” you manage to get out between gasps, your hips wriggling against the invisible restraints.

"Yes, tell me," he prompts, rocking his hips once more against your ass, urging the words out of your mouth. "Tell me what you want." His hands clap down on your ass, kneading the muscle there as his breathing deepens. The thin fabric of your underwear gets pushed aside by his roaming hands and he groans under his breath at the revealed skin there. Gale’s hips roll against you in fluid motions, becoming more and more desperate and intentional as the seconds tick by.

“Fuck, just touch me already,” you find yourself begging through gritted teeth. Your clit aches to be touched, and every heartbeat sends an electric shock through your body. There's a rustle of cloth behind you and his hand roughly pulls your panties down until they bunch around your upper thighs.

“As you command, my Goddess.” His voice is rich, dripping with lust and arousal. Your muscles are taut, clenched and held in place by sheer desire and arousal, at this point. You can feel the evidence of your arousal on your inner thighs where the air kisses them, now that the soaked fabric of your panties has been slid down. You'd expected him to take them off, but it's no matter. There's no time anyway.

He makes a noise that you're not sure you can replicate - one of absolute hunger, a primal craving for what the two of you are about to do, deep in the back of his throat-- a sound of claim... of ownership. Gale runs his hand up your sweat-slick back until his fingers find your hair, tangling into your locks with a confidence that only makes your cunt ache with sudden desire. His fingers tighten harshly in your hair, gripping it and forcing your face down onto the desk in the same instant that the head of his cock, now free of his pants, bumps against your entrance. You whimper against the wood and squirm against the sensation, already quivering, too close already.

Gale groans and you can hear him shifting behind you, the sound of skin on skin as he strokes himself slowly. The sight he must be looking at -- you -- sprawled out in such a state of desperation, back arched and skin of your neck sweaty, lips parted and a permanent blush of pink dusting your cheeks. He hums in appraisal, and you can practically feel his gaze as it drags along the length of your body.

"Beg," comes the simple command.

And you do.

When his cock finally slides inside of you, you groan for the whole length of it. The professor is generously endowed; more than long enough for him to be a problem if he got overexcited.

Gale moves his hand under your waist to keep you angled perfectly for him and you writhe in his hands, trying to loosen the magical grasp on your wrists. In response he thrusts into you sharply and you gasp, his free hand twisting in your hair. He fucks you with short thrusts, pulling almost completely out of you before grinding his hips back down. Each movement from the man above you serves a dual purpose: to seek out pleasure and to taunt and to tease.

"You're doing so good, aren't you? Taking me so well, like this... Usually-" Gale cuts himself off with a particularly deep thrust, making you yelp and gasp. "-they can't take me from behind the first time, when I’m myself. Such a beautiful pussy though… Always wanted to do it right.” Another series of sharp thrusts and you're already squirming underneath him, gasping and moaning through his movements. "Almost like you were made to be mine, isn't it?" You crane your head as far back as you can to let him know you're listening and nod, even as his hips continue moving. He fucks you slow and indulgent, pulling his cock out leisurely before rolling his hips back against you. The hand that was once tugging at your hair drops down to your back, rubbing it in what you can only assume is him rewarding you-- at least, it scratches your praise itch all the same.

“Always thought- I was- too,” you gasp between thrusts, allowing your eyes to drop closed as you get closer and closer to your own climax. The coil in your gut tightens as you tip over the edge into your orgasm, your senses heightened until you can practically feel the veins in his cock inside of you.

Gale’s voice is suddenly loud in your ear, his breath, hot and needy, and his thighs and hips slamming against yours with a desperate need, almost uncontrollable. It stings, it hurts, but you know you've never felt better. "Such a good girl, you take me so well like this. Didn’t think you would be able to but- Here, see?"

Gale swipes his finger between your legs and you yelp when they pass over your sensitive and throbbing clit before he brings them to your mouth. You wrap your lips around his fingers gratefully, swirling your tongue around them as you would a cock and moaning for him-- whatever it takes for him to fill you.

With a pleased grunt, the wizard’s body arches back, the force of his hands holding onto your hips doubling, and then a second and so very unplanned orgasm has you white-knuckling the front edge of the desk again, your throat entirely given over to vocalizing your pleasure-- but no sounds come.

"Please," he breathes and then you feel the heat, filling you up, each pulse of his heartbeat filling you with ropes of cum. You can see nothing, hear nothing but your own heartbeat in your ears for a moment.

The slow drip of his release between your thighs causes your cheeks to flare up in embarrassment. He wipes his fingers off with one of the tissues from the box on his desk, pulling a few more out to gently wipe your inner thighs and still soaking core. Finally, he presses a warm, flushed kiss to the swell of your ass.

“I never knew you could… That you were like…” You stammer your attempts at pillow talk and compliments, blushing even further when he waves your words away with a wry smile.

“No one knew but her… and now you.” Gale shrugs, a bit of sheepishness coming back into his face now that the post-orgasm glow has faded.

“Only us two?”

“You’ve been all I need.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 smut #fanfic #aosarchive #ao oopsied #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader

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customlogoflipflops01 · 2 years ago

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velarisdusk · 10 months ago

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Shattered

Hockey AU

Series Masterlist Part 3 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 5 - Burning Desire

word count: 8k content: [ explicit sexual content, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, praise, degredation, dominance/submission, biting, group almost sex?, 5 guys but it isn't a gangbang sorry | infidelity, alcohol mention, strong language, emotional conflict, verbal conflict] summary: At a lavish party you're reluctantly attending on behalf of your boyfriend, who's occupied with a pressing PR matter, temptation proves too alluring to resist. A heated encounter with several teammates in a secluded room is quickly shattered, forcing you to face the consequences of your actions. author's note: :)

The invitation had arrived in a gold-embossed envelope, signaling the kind of wealth and excess only a notorious socialite like Ianthe could muster. When the team saw the invite, their collective groan was almost comical.

“Oh, come on,” Azriel had grumbled, tossing the invitation onto the table. “Does she really expect us to show up to one of these again?”

“You know how she is,” Rhysand had replied with a roll of his eyes. “She’ll throw a fit if we don’t, and then all of her fans’ll spam our comments.”

Despite their reluctance, Cassian had insisted on attending. “It’s good PR,” he had said with a smirk. “Sadly, I can’t make it. I’ve got a prior engagement.”

Eris had raised an eyebrow. “What engagement?”

“A press event,” Cassian had replied smoothly. “To address your… inappropriate use of the team’s Twitter and make clear that the rest of us had nothing to do with it.”

Eris had looked defensive. “How was I supposed to know it would blow up like that?”

Cassian had stifled a chuckle. “Yeah, how would you have known? The Vipers tweeting, ‘Calling all baddies with fat asses, slide into my DMs if you want a real man tonight,’ and then following it up by replying to half of them with ‘ayo shawtay’—with five y’s—‘hit me up.’ Not unusual at all.” He paused, letting the absurdity of the situation sink in. Laughter bubbled up around the room, the tension breaking as Cassian continued, “Some outlets reported it as ‘disturbing,’ so now I’m on damage control. Important stuff. You’ll manage without me.”

So, you found yourself amidst a sea of opulence, far removed from your usual comfort. The penthouse was alive with celebrities, influencers, and high-profile guests. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm glow, casting reflections off designer clothes and extravagant jewelry. Conversations buzzed around you, a mix of superficial small talk and name-dropping that made you feel even more out of place.

Ianthe had greeted you with an overly enthusiastic hug, her perfume almost overwhelming. “Oh my goodness, (y/n)! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you and Cassian!” she exclaimed, her voice loud and piercing. She wore a shimmering gold gown, the fabric hugging her every curve and sparkling under the dim lights. “Where is he?”

“Babe, you should go. Someone needs to make sure they don’t embarrass themselves, and since I can’t, you’re the only one I trust to handle it,” he had said, brushing a stray bit of hair behind your ear. “Besides, Ianthe will make it a whole thing if I don’t show up or at least send someone in my place. I’ve got that press thing to handle.”

“Do I really have to go?” you had asked, frowning. “I don’t know anyone there well enough to enjoy myself.”

Cassian had sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’ll be over before you know it. Plus, the guys’ll be there. Just stay for a bit, make an appearance, and then you can leave. Ianthe will appreciate it, and so will the team.”

You had huffed, certain they’d appreciate your presence. “Fine, but you owe me.”

He had laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

��He couldn’t make it,” you said with a forced smile, smoothing down the fabric of your elegant but understated dress. “But he insisted I come in his place.”

Ianthe’s laugh had been high and tinkling, grating on your nerves. “Of course he did! Well, you’re here now, so make yourself at home! Enjoy the party!” She flitted off to greet another guest, leaving you feeling even more adrift.

Despite her warm greeting, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. As the night wore on, you tried to mingle, but the crowd was overwhelming. You watched the guys make small talk in their circles, but the noise and the crowd became suffocating. Seeking refuge, you slipped away from the chaos, your steps quickening as you wandered through Ianthe’s penthouse.

The further you ventured from the bustling noise, the more the laughter and music faded into a distant murmur. You eventually discovered a quiet hallway upstairs, offering a welcome escape from the revelry below. Following the corridor, you stumbled upon a study, its shelves lined with immaculate rows of books, each seeming more decorative than practical. You stood in the center of the room, the serene atmosphere wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The soft glow of a nearby lamp cast gentle shadows on the walls, and the muffled sounds from the party below felt like a world away. It was a rare moment of peace, a chance to collect your thoughts and find solace in the stillness of the room.

Your gaze drifted around the dim room, but your thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a web of regret. Cassian's face flashed in your mind, a painful reminder of the trust you had shattered. The memories of what had transpired were vivid: stolen moments in the locker room with Azriel and Rhysand, the rooftop terrace with Helion and Tarquin. It had all started with light touches and innocent flirtations, things Cassian tolerated, but you had crossed a line. The reality of your actions pressed heavily on you, each encounter a mark against your integrity. Every touch from Tarquin, every whispered promise from Helion, only served to deepen your regret. It wasn’t just the physical betrayals that stung but the realization that you had allowed things to spiral out of control. What had driven you to push the boundaries so far? Was it the thrill of the forbidden, the chase of something new, or simply a frantic attempt to fill a void you hadn’t fully acknowledged before? The ache in your chest grew with each passing moment, a constant reminder of the damage you had done.

The sudden rush of music and laughter from the party downstairs broke the silence, flooding into the study as the door creaked open. You turned, startled, and saw Rhysand and Tarquin step into the room. Rhysand’s gaze was sharp, a mixture of curiosity and something else flickering in his eyes. Tarquin’s expression was equally intrigued, his attention immediately drawn to you.

“What brings you up here, alone, with all the fun downstairs?” Rhysand’s voice was smooth, almost curious, but there was an undercurrent of something more in his gaze.

“I needed a break from all the noise,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Tarquin leaned casually against the doorframe, amusement evident in his eyes. “Ianthe does have a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t she?” His tone was light, almost playful.

Rhysand nodded, his expression almost sympathetic, but his eyes never left yours. “Must be hard without Cassian here.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the room. “Yeah, it’s... different.”

Rhysand chuckled softly. “Tarquin and I were just chatting, and your name came up.” He stepped closer and brushed a hand down his sleeve, as if casually dismissing any pretense. “He mentioned something interesting about you.”

He took a final step, closing the distance between you. His presence was that of danger and allure. “So, I told him something interesting in return.” His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “And, well,” he continued, his lips curling into a predatory smile, “we just had to share what we learned with Azriel and Helion.”

As if on cue, the door opened again — Tarquin’s doing, you noticed — and Azriel and Helion walked in. Helion’s grin widened as he sauntered over with an easy, confident stride. “When they came over, we were just having a little chat about you,” he remarked, his tone light and teasing. But there was something in the way his gaze lingered on you, something that hinted at a deeper, more dangerous amusement.

Azriel’s sharp gaze lingered on you. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice the way you’ve been acting?” His voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was a subtle edge to it as if he were piecing together a puzzle you hadn’t meant for them to solve. It wasn’t that you were intentionally hiding anything; it just seemed to happen that way. He paused just a few steps away, his presence quietly commanding.

Tarquin idly traced his fingers along the edge of a nearby bookshelf, his gaze drifting back to you with a casual curiosity. “We’ve noticed you’ve slipping away whenever one of us gets too close. Almost like you’re avoiding something... or someone.” His voice was light, but it was clear he was feigning ignorance.

Rhysand’s voice dripped with mock indignation. “You’re even avoiding eye contact with us. How do you think that makes us feel?” His gaze was intense, holding you in place.

The room was charged with tension as they closed in on you, their questions relentless. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words amidst your rising anxiety. “Look, it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’ve just been... overwhelmed.”

Azriel’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “Overwhelmed, huh?” His voice was soft, but it carried a weight that made your heart race. He moved around you with a quiet, deliberate grace, his hand settling on your shoulder with a firm yet almost tender grip. “You know, running from one fuck to another isn’t exactly a solution.” His fingers trailed slowly up your arm, the touch deceptively gentle, but there was no mistaking the intent behind it.

Helion closed the distance with a casual, almost lazy grace, his smile never fading. “Avoiding us won’t make the mess you’ve made disappear,” he teased, his voice laced with playful mockery. His hand brushed over your shoulder lightly. “Now that you’re here, though, maybe we can have a bit of fun sorting it out.”

Rhysand’s voice softened as he leaned in, his expression mockingly sympathetic. “So, (y/n), was it worth it? Playing these games, sneaking around? Did it give you what you needed?” His hand brushed against your jaw, a gentle touch that belied the weight of his words.

“Answer him, (y/n),” Tarquin chimed in, his voice nonchalant as he flipped through a book without really looking at it. “We’re all ears.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat of their scrutiny. “I... I just didn’t know how to handle everything,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “It was a mess, and I didn’t think it through.”

You met each of their eyes, trying to make them understand despite the teasing edge of their demeanor. “But you know what?” you added, a spark of defiance igniting in your eyes. “It takes more than one person to fuck. If you’re going to judge me, take a look at yourselves. You’re supposed to be his friends, but you’re betraying him just as much as I am. Don’t act like I’m the only one to blame.”

Azriel’s brows rose in amusement, clearly entertained. With his lips trailing the side of your neck, he murmured, “She’s got a point, doesn’t she? We’ve all played our parts in this.” You shivered at the sensation.

Tarquin closed the book with a snap and shelved it, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, if we’re all to blame, maybe we’ve been too harsh,” he drawled, standing beside Rhysand, finally joining you all.

Helion’s fingers began a slow, deliberate trail along your waist, his touch possessive. He let his fingertips graze the fabric of your dress, eyes glinting with dark amusement. “Let us make it up to you?” When you didn’t respond, he added, “I’m surprised Cassian let you out in something that makes you look so… delicious,” he purred, his voice low and sultry.

You shot him a look. “Cass doesn’t ‘let’ me do anything. I do what I please, and he’s secure enough not to care.”

Helion’s smirk widened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Misplaced security, then,” he murmured, his tone dripping with mockery and desire.

Azriel watched the exchange with a predatory gleam. He moved his hands to your hips, the touch light but purposeful as he pulled you back into him. “Maybe he should be more worried about how easily you slip away,” he suggested, his voice a dangerous whisper. Tarquin stepped closer, his gaze fixated on you as he reached out to run his fingers along your exposed neckline. A chill ran up your spine.

Without warning, Helion’s hands slid from your waist to your hips, resting on top of Azriel’s, pulling himself closer. He leaned down for a heated kiss, his lips insistent and demanding. As his kiss deepened, Azriel ground himself against your ass, groans of pleasure from both of you filled the relatively quiet study.

Tarquin leaned in next, his lips finding your neck. Rhysand, standing on your other side now, placed a hand on your shoulder, letting his lips graze your ear before trailing down to your jawline. Azriel’s hands moved from under Helion’s to your ass, grabbing and squeezing and pinching and spreading. “Oh, God,” you gasped breathlessly into the kiss, your voice trembling as you pressed your chest against Helion. “I can’t… I can’t handle this.”

But his kiss only grew more fervent, his tongue exploring yours as he murmured against your lips, “You’re doing just fine, you’ve handled much more.”

With trembling hands, you reached down, your fingers deftly finding their way to the two men at your sides. Your fingers brushed against the smooth, warm fabric, feeling the outlines of their arousal. Tarquin's pants were dark navy, contrasting sharply with the crisp white of his dress shirt, and his belt was a sleek black leather that made the bulge even more pronounced. Rhysand wore a tailored charcoal suit, the fabric fitting him perfectly, showing off his powerful frame.

As you palmed them through their pants, you couldn’t help but marvel at how incredibly sexy they all looked. Helion’s suit was a rich, deep burgundy, the color enhancing the warmth of his skin and exuding an air of refined elegance. The fabric shimmered subtly under the soft lighting, and the tailored lines of his jacket accentuated his every movement, making him look irresistibly captivating.

Though Azriel was behind you, you knew he wore a classic charcoal-grey suit, the dark color highlighting his powerful build. The suit’s fitted cut accentuated his broad shoulders and slim waist. Calling it elegance, you thought, would not do him justice.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your voice a ragged whisper as you felt the heat and hardness of their cocks through the fabric. “You all look so… fucking hot, it’s driving me crazy.”

Azriel groaned quietly behind you, his grip on your ass tightening as he hissed, “That’s what we wanted to hear. Keep talking, angel, tell us how much you’re enjoying it.”

Your breaths came faster, each one a ragged gasp as the intensity built. “I... I can’t,” you moaned against Helion’s lips, your voice trembling. “It feels so good, it’s too much...” You turned your head to lock your lips with Rhysand, the hand you used to please him now tangling in his hair. “You’re all so fucking perfect,” you breathed, your words spilling out in a torrent of need.

Tarquin bit down on your neck, making the skin there tingle in pleasure and pain. You gasped, your voice breathless. “I want all of you, I need every bit of this... fucking addicted.” Azriel placed kisses against the back of your neck, and your words became a fervent plea. “Please don’t stop, I need more, I need all of you.” You were overwhelmed, your mind a haze of need and desire. “Just keep going, don’t stop... I’m yours, just take me, use me,” you begged, your voice raw with need.

“Well, this is a scene,” a smug voice cut through the charged atmosphere. The room went silent as every head turned toward the door.

“Seems like you’ve all been holding out on me,” Eris drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. His eyes swept over the room with a mixture of amusement and hunger. “Didn’t realize you were all getting so… wrapped up in each other tonight.” His gaze lingered on you with a dark, knowing smile. “Seems I’ve arrived just in time.”

The tension in the room shifted, grew heavier with Eris’s presence. Your heart was racing, caught between the intense pleasure still pulsing through you and the fresh wave of anxiety his scrutiny brought. The others froze momentarily, their expressions a mix of shock and discomfort.

Helion, having maintained his composure, tilted his head with a nonchalant grin. “Eris, what a surprise. Care to join?”

Eris’s grin widened as he stepped further into the room. “I’d be delighted,” he said smoothly, his gaze never leaving you. “I’m disappointed. I’ve made it very clear how much I want you. So tell me,” he murmured, his voice gaining a roguish tone as he continued, “if Cassian wasn’t satisfying you, why didn’t you come to me first, baby? You know I would’ve fucked you so much better.”

As he closed the distance, you eyed him with apprehension. Eris’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your flushed skin and the desperate look in your eyes. “If I can’t have the privilege of being the first in this room to fuck you, I’ll just have to be the best, won’t I?”

With that, Eris pushed his way through Rhysand and Helion, his presence commanding and overpowering. His fingers brushed against your lips as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “And trust me,” he said, his voice brimming with a fierce intensity, “I plan to make up for every second of those three years. Think you can take that?” His tone was a blend of seductive confidence and genuine desire.

Before you could respond, Eris’s lips were on yours, his kiss wild and demanding. His hands tangled in your meticulously styled hair, pulling you closer as his tongue explored your mouth with an urgency that matched his frustration. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts—how wrong this felt, knowing Cassian hated Eris with a passion. They’d seemed almost friendly at the club, though. Maybe they’d become friends after that night. Which was worse? But as Eris's lips moved against yours, you couldn't help it. You found yourself clinging to him, craving more.

Rhysand’s hands roamed with deliberate slowness, slipping beneath your dress to explore the bare skin of your thighs. Each caress sparked waves of pleasure that had you gasping. His lips found your neck, tracing heated, lingering kisses that made you moan in response.

Helion’s hands roamed over your front and sides, brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your dress. His lips followed a path from your shoulder down your arm, leaving a trail of kisses that made you whimper with every touch. His touch was both teasing and possessive, a stark contrast to the yearning you felt.

Behind you, Azriel's hips pressed firmly against you, lifting your dress to reveal the lacy, barely-there underwear you wore. His breath was hot and intense against your skin, his kisses on the back of your neck growing more insistent. Tarquin, on your left, knelt down, his lips placing open-mouthed kisses up your smooth leg, his hands gripping your thigh with relentless, demanding pressure.

The room was soon filled with the symphony of your moans, the fervent kisses, and the hands exploring every inch of your body. The line between pleasure and chaos blurred as their combined touches drove you to the brink of madness.

Eris pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with an intense desire and a wicked glint. “This dress... it’s in my way,” he growled, his voice rough with urgency. “It needs to go.”

Azriel swiftly undid the zip, and without a second thought, Eris grabbed the hem of your dress and tore it up and over your head, tossing it aside. The cool air of the study hit your exposed skin, making you press closer into Eris's arms, now completely vulnerable.

“God, fucking look at you,” he groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction as his hands roamed over your newly exposed skin. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. His hands moved with renewed fervor over your body, exploring every contour.

Rhysand, Azriel, Helion, and Tarquin took full advantage of the moment, their hands and lips everywhere, driving you to the edge with their combined touches. Your neck, your chest, your arms and legs, your ass; you couldn’t keep track of who was where anymore.

The room was filled with the sounds of your breathless moans and their low, appreciative growls and hums. Every nerve in your body was alight with sensation, the heat and intensity of their touches washing over you completely.

Eris’s hands moved to your breasts, which had been freed from your bra at some point, kneading and teasing them while his mouth claimed yours with a wild intensity. His lips traveled down to your neck, and your face flushed with embarrassment as you realized you were left in nothing but your panties and heels. The remaining fabric clung to you, highlighting your vulnerability amid their consuming attention.

“Go ahead and say those pretty words for me again,” he growled against your lips, “like you were when I came in. Let me hear you, baby.”

“I want it so bad,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “I need it, I’m begging you, please.”

“Azriel, fucking move,” Eris commanded with a low, vicious growl that was unlike anything you’d heard from any of them. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, your back was shoved against a bookshelf behind you, Eris’s hand cradling the back of your head. The sensation of the others being ripped away left you feeling startlingly exposed, emptiness washing over you.

Eris’s eyes pierced into yours, hunger and dominance in his gaze. His hand moved from the back of your head to the front of your neck, his grip surprisingly gentle, almost like a caress. “I want to hear you say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. He placed his other hand on your bare waist, squeezing. “Tell us how much you want it. Tell us how badly you need to be fucked by all of us.”

Your breaths came out in ragged pants, your body trembling with anticipation and need. “I want it,” you repeated, your voice cracking with desperation. “I need it… Please.”

Eris’s lips curved into a dark, satisfied smile as he pressed his body against yours, the heat and hardness of him making you moan. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

The heat in the room surged as Eris's words hung in the air, his confidence palpable. The intensity of the situation seemed to reach new heights with his arrival. His fingers traced your lips, and you parted them slightly with a quiet exhale. The way he looked at you, with that dark, predatory glint in his eyes, made you feel like a prey caught in the snare of a hunter.

Rhysand and Helion exchanged glances, the challenge in Eris's demeanor stirring a competitive edge among them. It wasn’t until now that you realized Azriel still had a hand on your hip, his touch now more possessive, as if he were staking his claim. Tarquin’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling into a smirk as he observed the scene unfolding.

Eris, now firmly in your space, didn’t wait for a response. His hands moved with a practiced ease, his grip on your jaw guiding you to face him fully. His eyes were dark, almost hypnotic, as they bore into yours. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and urgent, “what do you need right now? Let me hear it.”

His warmth was enveloping, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as his lips brushed against the sensitive skin. Every touch seemed to heighten your awareness of just how far you'd let things go, and yet, you found yourself unable to pull away.

“I need...” you began, your voice trembling with desire and apprehension. You tried to glance at the men in the room, at Azriel, but Eris gave your head a firm but controlled shake, forcing your attention back to him. “I need all of you… All of you, Eris.”

His smirk widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He took your hand, which lay limp at your side, guiding it to his abdomen and laying his hand over yours. You could feel every muscle under his dress shirt. “Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He then turned his gaze towards Azriel, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You heard her,” Eris said, his tone brooking no argument. “Take a break. She’s mine now.”

The room seemed to pulse with energy when Eris gently spun you around by that same hand, his presence a commanding force as he instructed you to place your hands against the large oak bookshelf. His hands slid down slowly, along your sides, caressing your hips and waist with a deliberate, almost reverent touch. You felt his lightly calloused fingers grazing your skin, igniting a fire that made you ache with need.

The rest of the group watched with fascination and anticipation, their eyes never leaving you. The room was charged with competition and desire that seemed to fuel the intensity of the moment. As Eris knelt behind you, his touch grew more demanding. His hands roamed possessively, squeezing the curve of your waist, tracing the swell of your hips, and gripping your thighs with a fierce intensity. Every touch ignited a fire within you that made you surrender completely to him. With your hips pushed out and your back arched, you let out a moan that sent a jolt of arousal through the room, leaving the others subtly adjusting themselves as their growing need strained against their clothes.

When he bit down on your ass, the sound pulled from you fell somewhere between desperate and strained. Just when you were on the verge of demanding — not begging for — more, Eris pulled the lace of your underwear aside and teased a finger through your arousal.

“Look at how nice and ready they got you for me,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. After lining two fingers up to your entrance, he continued. “Thank them for me, baby?”

Though you stumbled over your words trying to steady your breaths, you managed a quiet “thank you” as he eased his fingers into you with an aching slowness. The groan he let out had you squeezing around them. Eris's fingers moved with a slow, tantalizing rhythm that left no room for haste. Each caress was meticulously timed, creating a sensation that felt intensely intimate yet firmly under his control. His touch was not just about pleasure but also about power, each stroke conveying his dominance.

Eris looked around the room, fingers still pumping slowly in and out, his gaze meeting the eyes of his teammates who watched with rapt attention. He smirked, fully aware of the effect this display had on them. With a casual but commanding tone, he addressed them without breaking his rhythm. “Sit back and take it in,” he said smoothly, standing back up. “Once I’m done with her, you won’t be seeing her like this again.”

You would’ve glanced around the room to gauge their reactions, curious despite yourself, but Eris didn’t give you the chance. His free hand came up to grasp your chin firmly, turning your head to the right to face him. “Eyes forward, or on me,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, his breath ghosting across your lips as his fingers inside you curled just right, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The sharpness of the motion had you gasping, pulling your focus solely to him.

Your lips parted to respond, but instead, another moan escaped as his fingers flexed inside you, sending pleasure radiating out from your core. The slow, deliberate pace had you trembling, every nerve drawn tight as you clung to the edge he was carefully holding you on.

"I..." you started, but the words were swallowed by a sharp intake of breath. "You–" The sentence dissolved into another gasp as his thumb slid over your clit in a slow circle. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and you couldn't help the way your hips pushed back against him, seeking more.

Eris's smirk widened, and his grip on your chin shifted, thumb trailing down the column of your throat. "What's that?" he taunted softly. "I didn't quite catch that."

You fought to catch your breath, tried to gather your thoughts, but it was no use.

"You're... taking your time," you managed to murmur, a half-hearted attempt at regaining some ground. But the way your body betrayed you — arching toward his touch, trembling under his fingers — made it clear that he was the one in control.

Eris hummed, clearly pleased with himself. "And you love it," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, as if it were a secret meant just for you.

Another moan escaped your lips, but you gritted your teeth, trying to stifle it. You felt the weight of the others' stares on your skin, but they didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the feeling of Eris inside you, stretching you, teasing you. The pleasure was too much, and yet somehow not enough. It was a cruel balance that he had perfected.

Eris’ lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice low and velvety. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I can feel how ready you are, how much you want it. But I’m going to take my time with you, is that okay, baby?”

You couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped your lips, the sound more of frustration than anything else. The way he moved inside you was maddeningly slow, calculated, as if he wanted to draw out every bit of pleasure he could. Your body responded eagerly, hips instinctively pushing back against his hand, craving more, needing more.

Helion’s voice drifted in the background, but you were too lost in those smoldering amber eyes to pay it any mind. “Come on, Eris. Give her something to remember.” Chuckles and murmurs of approval echoed around the room.

Eris chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. “Patience, gentlemen. You’ve all had your turn.” His fingers slid out of you with a slow, deliberate motion, leaving you feeling unbearably empty.

The hand cradling your face moved to trace a path down your back, over your ass, the touch firm and possessive. He didn’t rush, didn’t give in to the urgency that was building in the room. Instead, he took his time, savoring the feel of your body beneath his hands.

Rhysand’s voice cut through the tension, smooth as silk. “Don’t tease her too much. We want her desperate, but let’s not break her just yet, hm?”

Eris’s grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes as he turned his attention back to your face. “Oh, I have no intention of breaking her. Just bending her a little.” His fingers found their way back between your legs, brushing against your swollen, sensitive flesh with just enough pressure to make you gasp. “We’ve got all night, after all.”

You were drowning in sensation, every touch, every word pulling you deeper into a state of raw, aching need. The way they watched you, the way they spoke about you as if you were theirs to play with, only made the heat pooling in you grow stronger.

“I… I need it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Please, Eris… please.”

Eris’s smirk softened, just a fraction. “Look at you, begging so sweetly,” he murmured, but his eyes held that predatory glint you’d come to recognize. He brushed a thumb over your lower lip and leaned in close, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I want you to show them, baby. Move those pretty hips for me—let them see how badly you need this.”

He paused, letting his words hang in the air, the command settling in. The way he looked at you, his gaze intense and unyielding, made it clear this was no request—it was a demand. “Go on,” he urged, his fingers pressing just a bit more firmly against your aching core. “Show them how much you want it.”

A surge of anticipation coursed through you at his words, the need to satisfy that growing ache overpowering any lingering restraint. You were acutely aware of their gazes on you, the weight of their expectation filling the room. Slowly, you let your hips roll forward, the movement tentative at first, but as Eris’s fingers pressed more firmly against you, a soft moan escaped your lips, urging you to continue. You arched your back slightly, pushing your body back toward him, the desire becoming impossible to ignore.

A low murmur of approval rippled through the room, the men watching you with hunger and admiration. The sensation of Eris’s touch, combined with their heated gazes, sent a thrill through your veins.

“That’s it,” Eris whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “Good girl. Keep going.”

You moved with growing confidence, your hips swaying in a slow, deliberate rhythm, designed to show them just how badly you craved them. The room seemed to grow hotter, every brush of his fingers against you intensifying the ache. You were fully aware of how exposed you were, how much you were giving them exactly what they wanted, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself.

Eris’s other hand slid down your back, his touch firm, guiding you to continue. “Do you see this, gentlemen?” he called over his shoulder, his voice thick with pride. “This is what it means to truly want. To be so consumed by need that you’d do anything to be filled.”

A fresh wave of arousal surged through you at his words. The others murmured in agreement, their voices low and appreciative as they watched you move under Eris’s command. And as you continued to grind against him, the heat between your thighs growing more intense with each passing moment, you realized there was no turning back. You were completely at their mercy, and it felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

Eris’s gaze held yours, unwavering and intense as if he could see every thought, every desire running through your mind. The others seemed to fade into the background, their presence still felt, but distant, as Eris commanded your full attention. He slowly removed his hand from between your thighs, and you bit back a whimper of frustration at the loss of contact. The smirk on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “So eager, so desperate. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with the implications of what he was asking. You could feel the weight of his dominance pressing down on you, making it hard to think clearly. Still, you found yourself nodding, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

Eris’s smirk deepened, his hand reaching for the waistband of his pants. “I knew it,” he said, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction. “You want to be mine, even if it’s just for tonight. You want to feel every inch of me inside you, don’t you?”

A tremor ran through you, the anticipation nearly unbearable as he slowly undid his pants, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise silent room. “Yes,” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

He freed his cock from the confines of his pants, stroking himself slowly as he watched your reaction. “Tell me,” he demanded, his voice a low growl, “how you want it. How you’re going to let me fuck you.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry as you tried to find the words. “I want…” you began, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire. “I want you to take me, Eris. To make me yours in every way.”

Eris’s eyes darkened with lust, his hand moving faster as he stroked himself, the sight sending another wave of heat through your body. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with approval. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll still feel me inside you tomorrow. You’ll be so full of me, you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

The way he claimed you with his words as if you were his possession, only stoked the flames of desire within you. You knew you should be ashamed, embarrassed by how easily you were giving in, but all you could feel was the overwhelming need to be consumed by him.

“And when I’m done,” Eris continued, his voice low and dangerous, “you’re going to thank me. You’re going to tell me how much you loved every second of it, how you haven’t been able to stop thinking about my cock.”

“Go on and get dressed for me, baby. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

The words cut through the charged atmosphere like a knife, and every head in the room turned toward the doorway. Cassian stood there, hands resting in the pockets of a suit that fit him perfectly. He stood upright, his posture conveying an unsettling calm. His eyes, though steady, held an intensity that made your stomach twist.

You froze, your heart racing as you tried to pull yourself together. Eris, momentarily taken aback, pulled his hand away from you in a swift motion, his expression caught between surprise and frustration. The men around you were already moving, hastily tucking themselves away. You reached for your clothes, discarded a few feet to your side, hands trembling slightly as you dressed under Cassian’s unwavering gaze. He didn’t move, didn’t hurry you, but the weight of his presence was undeniable. Meanwhile, the others couldn’t seem to settle their eyes on one spot, their gazes flickering restlessly around the room.

As you dressed quickly, your mind spun with fear and a dizzying confusion. Cassian’s gaze was a constant weight on your shoulders, and every movement felt slow and surreal. When you finally made your way toward him, he extended his arm, guiding you toward the door with a firm, steady hand. The steady warmth of his arm beneath your hand was the only thing anchoring you against the whirlwind of your mind.

You stepped into the hallway, the noise of the party growing louder as you and Cassian descended the stairs. The space felt cold, the walls closing in around you as you moved with a sense of dread. Cassian’s silence was a heavy shroud, his presence almost forbidding. His eyes remained fixed ahead, devoid of any warmth, though his face remained perfectly composed. He gave brief, casual waves and polite nods to those who greeted him, his demeanor impeccably maintained. His silence was almost chilling; the way he pointedly avoided looking at you only heightened your sense of unease.

As you approached the exit, Cassian was stopped by a man who must have been a colleague. They spoke in low tones, most of the words indistinguishable to you through the blood pumping in your ears, but you caught Cassian’s voice cutting through the din with cold clarity. “Seems she’s had one too many espresso martinis tonight,” he said, his tone smooth and effortlessly charming. “We’re heading out.” The words seemed to echo in your ears as you walked alongside him, your arm still looped through his. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on your chest as you tried not to stumble.

You and Cassian made your way down the sleek marble hallway, the ambient noise of the party fading behind you. The elevator was just a few steps from the penthouse door, and you held tightly to his arm as he guided you. Every movement felt deliberate, his grip firm but impersonal. Waiting for the elevator felt like an eternity, each passing second stretching out and amplifying the anxiety in your stomach.

The elevator ride was a blur of metallic walls and muffled sounds. You stared straight ahead, unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze, each moment stretching into an unbearable silence. When you finally reached the ground floor, the lobby greeted you with its polished elegance. The sound of your footsteps and his seemed to reverberate through the space, each echo amplifying your trepidation. The building’s doorman greeted you with a nod, and Cassian responded with a brief, detached smile.

As you neared the entrance, Cassian pulled out his phone with his free hand, making a brief call. The minutes dragged on as you stood by the sleek glass doors. Soon after, a black Audi A7 glided up to the curb, its glossy finish gleaming under the streetlights. Cassian had brought out the luxury car tonight, a stark contrast to his usual red F150. The polished finish and the soft purr of the engine seemed to mock you.

Cassian opened the car door for you, his gesture polite and deliberate. You slid into the plush interior, the cool leather seats enveloping you as you settled in. He closed the door behind you with a soft click, then slipped a tip to the valet before making his way around to the driver’s side. With an unreadable expression, he slid behind the wheel, taking his time to adjust himself before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was shrouded in an oppressive silence, the only sounds being the steady hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. Cassian’s profile was set in a rigid line, the stern set of his jaw betraying none of his inner thoughts. You fidgeted with your hands, trying to make sense of the situation, but every attempt to gauge his mood seemed to lead only to deeper confusion.

Your gaze dropped to your hands in your lap. They were trembling. betraying the turmoil churning inside you. The silence in the car felt suffocating, pressing down on you with each passing second. Your mind raced with frantic questions: Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he already know everything? The more you tried to steady yourself, the more the uncertainty gnawed at you.

You tried to focus on the rhythmic thrum of the engine, the soft vibrations through the leather seat. But even the steady hum seemed to amplify your anxiety, making the silence feel even more oppressive. Each street you passed blurred together, a series of indistinct shapes and shadows. Your thoughts spun in a relentless cycle of worry, and you couldn’t escape the growing dread that was settling heavily in your chest.

Then a new wave of mortification crashed over you. The image of Cassian opening the door, his eyes taking in the sight of you practically naked against the bookshelf, filled your mind. The sheer embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position—the heels, the underwear pulled aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable—was almost too much to bear. You had been so caught up in the moment, so lost in the haze of the night, that you hadn't fully processed how degrading it must have seemed. The thought of him seeing you so utterly exposed, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat, was a sharp, humiliating jolt.

You considered what you might say when the time came. Would apologies be enough? Could explanations make any difference? The questions tumbled through your thoughts, each one more unsettling than the last. Now and then, you’d steal a glance at Cassian’s profile, trying to read something—anything—into his stoic expression. But he remained a solid, unyielding presence, leaving you to confront your anxieties alone.

You glanced at the passing street signs, noticing they were not leading toward your apartment. Your brow furrowed in concern as you watched the roads change. Cassian made a sharp turn, and you could no longer ignore the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach.

“Cassian,” you ventured cautiously, your voice barely cutting through the heavy silence, “where are we going?”

He offered no response, his focus straight ahead, his expression inscrutable. The tension in the car grew almost tangible as you fidgeted in your seat, trying to make sense of the unexpected detour.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, each intersection and street sign passing by in a blur. The initial confusion of the detour slowly gave way to a creeping sense of recognition. You noticed that while the roads were leading you further from your apartment, they were somewhat familiar. The familiar landmarks began to settle in your mind, and you felt a growing realization.

As the streetlights flickered past, you finally identified a landmark that confirmed your fears. The realization hit you with a jolt, and you swallowed hard, feeling a lump of anxiety form in your throat.

Cassian pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of the familiar house, its warm lights casting a soft glow on the front lawn. You stared at it, stunned, as he unlocked the doors.

“Cass, please, we need to talk about this,” you said, your voice cracking as you turned to face him. “I know things look bad, but I can explain!” But why should he let you explain? What would you even say?

He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road ahead, responding with a cold calmness. “There’s nothing to discuss. You’re staying with your mom for a bit.”

The impact of his words hit you hard; this was the first time he had spoken since you left the party. “No, wait,” you pleaded, the tears that had been brimming your eyes finally falling. “Please, just let me explain. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen—”

Cassian cut you off with a firm tone. “I’m not interested in your excuses, (y/n).”

Your hands gripped the seat as you struggled to find the right words. “Cass, please, it wasn’t what it looked like. I was just—”

“Just what?” he cut in, his voice as cold as ever. “Drunk or not, and it seems like you’re not, the situation was clear. Get out.”

You stared at him in shock, your voice trembling. “Please, just listen to me! I’m sorry for everything. I never meant for any of this to happen!”

He gave you a hard look, his face set in stone. “You made your choices. Do us both a favor and fix your hair before you walk in. Wouldn’t want your mom to think her daughter’s a cheap fucking whore.”

The words hit you like a punch, leaving you in stunned silence as he waited for you to get out of the car. You stared at Cassian, your heart aching with each passing second. “Cassian, I’m so sorry. Please believe me, I…” Your voice trailed off. You weren’t getting anywhere.

With a resigned sigh, you reached for the handle and slowly opened the car door. Each movement felt heavy with your defeat. As you stepped out onto the pavement, you cast one last glance at him, the weight of the night’s events settling heavily on your shoulders. Cassian's face remained impassive, his gaze fixed ahead.

You pushed the door shut, and made your way to the front door, the cool night air biting at your exposed skin. The stillness of the quiet neighborhood seemed to press in on you, the pitiful realization of your vulnerability sinking in more with each step.

Standing on the doorstep, you hesitated for a moment, your fingers hovering over the doorbell. The stark contrast between the warm, inviting glow of the house and the cold, dark night around you felt almost surreal. The weight of your earlier actions and Cassian’s harsh words seemed to bear down on you.

Finally, with a resigned breath, you pressed the button on the Ring camera. The chime echoed softly through the night, a jarring reminder of how far you had fallen from the comfort you once took for granted. As you waited, you could only hope that your mother’s response would offer some semblance of solace amid the wreckage of your evening.

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norel-ravenclaw · 29 days ago

Text

Rook’s First, the Professor

Featured character: Emmrich Volkarin x virgin!fem!Rook reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4400 of pure love and filth~

Description: Combining your tied votes of Rook’s first time with soft dom Emmrich~

How is it possible? I’ve faced down the deadliest people and entities the world has to offer. So how… how can the sweet, ever thoughtful, adorably nerdy professor manage to intimidate me?

His breath is warm on the back of my neck as I scour the bookshelf. “What are you looking for, my dear? Perhaps I may offer my assistance.”

Gods help me. “Emmrich! You surprised me.”

He chuckles, low and languid, just like our time off is meant to be. “And here I thought it would be impossible for someone to sneak up on you.” His gold-laden hand gently rests on my back, and he graces me with his laugh again. “My my, feel how your heart races. I really did surprise you, didn’t I?”

I swallow hard, his voice in my ear, his body practically pressed against mine. We’ve been paramours for all of three days, and I am already entirely at his mercy. I’m frozen, flush creeping up my neck.

“Hm?”

I start as his other hand moves on top of mine. His long fingers trace the embossed title on the spine of the book.

“Embalming Techniques? Are you considering a new hobby, darling?”

“I- what? No! No, I just… Emmrich, you’re killing me.”

I hear the slight intake of breath behind me before his hand moves further down my back.

“Oh? Goodness, I am flattered that my mere presence has such an effect on you, dearest.” He presses his lips to my ear, slowly sliding his fingertips from my hand to my wrist. With a slow, gentle motion, he pins it to the shelf.

My heart speeds up. “Emmrich…?”

“I know we’ve not been together long, at least not officially. But there is something I wish to speak with you about. Hm, it seems that perhaps it has been on your mind as well. But I do not want to rush things.”

I glance over my shoulder at him, his eyes sparkling and close.

“I recall something you mentioned once at dinner. That you have never been with anyone romantically.” At my waist, his hand gently strokes lower, teasing at my hip. “I adore you, and would like very much to treat you in every way with the love you deserve. Would you permit me to introduce you to such pleasures, my darling?”

He presses a kiss to the back of my neck, his fingers pressing more firmly against my hip.

“You’re sure…?”

“I am. More than you could ever know. I long to hold you in my arms, to kiss every inch of your skin.” Teasing his teeth ever so lightly over the shell of my ear, his grip on my wrist tightens. “I want to make you come apart and show me all of you. To discover all that your body and soul have yet to divulge.”

Leaning closer, he kisses the corner of my mouth. “Will you entrust yourself to me, my Rook?”

A small keening whine escapes me, and all I can do I nod. “I love you, Emmrich.”

I can see enough of his face to watch his features melt into a lovestruck expression that just makes my heart squeeze even more. So too I watch that look quickly morph into something sharper, hungry. Those sage green eyes take on a predatory gleam as he pulls me into his arms with more force than expected.

“Ah!” My knees are weak as he practically drags me to the small bedroom off the side of the study. Although we’ve slept together the last three nights, my nerves rattle just as much as the first. This time will be more than polite touches and innocent cuddling.

He pushes me against the wall, putting his hand behind my head to keep it from getting bumped. Just as quickly, his lips are on mine.

I melt into his kiss, letting him conquer my mouth as he likes. His heated sighs make my hips jolt against his, over and over. I gasp as he takes one of my hands and pins it over my head. His fingers lace into my hair and hold me firmly. My own moans grow more pathetic as blissful minutes pass.

When he finally breaks away, he rests his forehead against mine. “Forgive me, darling, there is something about you that brings out a rather… aggressive side of me. How uncouth, I ought to-“

“No!” I cut him off a little more eagerly than I mean to.

His eyes widen in surprise, and his lips turn up almost imperceptibly. “Oh? Do you… enjoy when I am more firm with you? I wish only to hold you close and cherish you. Never would I do anything to you that you hated.”

I bite my lip, avoiding his intense gaze. “…I think I’m discovering new things about myself, of late. Emmrich… I trust you. I love you. I need you so badly, and I want nothing more than to submit to you. Please, show me what these feelings mean.”

Lips parting in a huff of breath, he takes my other hand and traps it, holding them both in one of his own. “As you wish, my dear. You will tell me if you dislike anything, understood?”

I nod, my skin hot. “Yes sir.”

Emmrich’s eyes again take on that edge, and I can’t help but clench my thighs together. No sooner have I done that, he forces his knee between them, pressing it against me.

“Ah,” he chides. “I will be the one to pleasure you.”

He kisses me again, his free hand unbuttoning my shirt. Despite his eagerness, his touch is slow, deliberate as he slips his jewelled fingers beneath the fabric to stroke my breast.

I sigh against his mouth as he gently begins to fondle me. His touch is reverent, sensual, exploring my skin thoroughly as he slips my clothes away one piece at a time.

He releases my hands just long enough to slip my shirt off completely, then kneels down to unlace my shoes. He presses kisses to my stomach as he removes the rest. When all that remains are my undergarments, he meets my eye as he slips his fingers beneath them to tug them down my thighs.

I feel so exposed as he slowly stands, his eyes taking in every inch of me before boxing me against the wall with his arms.

“You are stunning, my dear. How fortunate that you are mine, mine alone.” He buries his face in my neck, kissing and mouthing along my collarbone. “No one else will see you. You belong to me now.” He trails a hand up my arm, softly wrapping it around my neck. He applies no pressure, his touch is soft and light. Safe. Yet his message is clear. “Say it for me, will you?”

My heart hammers in my chest, and it takes some will to not cover myself in the face of his eager gaze. Instead I wrap an arm around his neck and slide my hand into his hair. “I-I’m yours, Emmrich.”

He groans and wraps his free arm around my waist. “Good girl.” With his hand still lightly on my throat, he kisses me again. His tongue explores and dominates my own, eagerly swallowing every sound I make. Every sound of his makes me wetter, and I pull my hips back.

“I’ll- mmph, ruin your slacks- Em-“

He chuckles and pulls away, leaving both of us panting. “How considerate of you. Very well then.”

With his hair slightly mussed, he holds my eye, still catching his breath as he unbuckles his belt. “Put your hands out for me, sweetheart.”

My eyes widen, but trusting him, I do as I’m told. He smiles, though it’s more of a smirk as he uses the belt to bind my hands together. Pushing them back over my head, he teases the sensitive skin of my hip and murmurs in my ear, “Keep them here.”

I nod, biting my lip as a bead of wetness slips down my thigh.

He steps back and makes me watch as he removes his clothes piece by piece. He tosses them over a chair with the rest of mine before coming back to press himself against me.

“So obedient for me, aren’t you? You enjoy being ordered around by me? Being bound and subject to my will?” He kisses along my jaw, massaging my hips.

I whimper, panting as he pushes his knee between my thighs again. He groans as my wetness escapes all over his thigh.

“My, it seems you like it indeed.” His eyes glitter with a dark mischief. “What else do you want me to do to you?”

I flounder at his question, unsure. “I-I don’t know.”

“No? You’ve not fantasised about me? Do you want whips? Chains? Wax? Toys?” He chuckles and licks up my neck. “Should I bring in some of the others to watch one of these days?”

My eyes widen in shock. “Wha- E-Emmrich!? Are you really into all those things??”

He laughs and runs a hand up to fondle my breast, gently tweaking my nipple between his fingers. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Do you like this leather, at least?” Tracing the belt binding my wrists, he grins and kisses me again. “Do you?”

“…Yes.”

Gripping my chin between his fingers, he leans close, his expression stern. “Yes sir.”

“Ah… y-yes sir.”

“Good. Now tell me what you want me to do next.” His thumb strokes over my lip, his eyes never leaving mine.

“…I want…”

“Hm? Use your words, sweetheart.”

My hips jerk as he lazily keeps his knee pressed between my legs. “Please, sir… I want to… feel your mouth on my chest.”

His eyes light up in delight and he rewards me with a kiss. “Do you now? Good girl. I will give you what you crave.”

Slowly, he kisses down my neck, bending down to rub a cheek against the side of my breast. His hands come to cup them, gently squeezing. Moving one away, he nuzzles the sensitive skin, kissing my peppled nipple then taking it into his mouth.

Without his leg between mine any longer, my hips buck against nothing. The warm wetness of his mouth and the skilled movements of his tongue make me moan and keen.

I arch against the wall as the cool gold on his fingers brushes my most sensitive places, in ways no one has ever touched me before.

“Emmrich… Gods just like that.”

He looks up at me from under his lashes. “Is it as you hoped it would be?”

The cheeky bastard goes back to pleasuring me with more intensity than before. Whatever answer I could have given is lost to the desperate, keening moans he draws from me.

And then he stops.

“Won’t you tell me? How will I know if I am meeting your expectations if you don’t tell me?”

I whimper and pout as he smiles innocently up at me. “Yes sir, it’s so good. Please dont stop.”

His ‘innocent’ smile loses its smirking edge as he returns to kiss down my body once again. “Good. How I delight in these delicious reactions of yours. Let’s see what else I can draw from you.”

Going down onto his knees, his hands work down my waist to my hips and thighs. I gasp as he pushes them apart a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary. He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk this time as he is afforded a clear view of my sex throb.

His lips work down my navel, teasingly slow until he reaches my mound, his hands never letting up their sensual exploration. Gentle fingertips dance down the meeting point of my hip and thigh, rubbing at the soft, sensitive skin.

Teasing ever upward, my hips buck towards him eagerly. He tuts his tongue and lightly smacks my thigh. “Now now, behave for me. How am I to work with you moving about so? Be a good girl and be still.”

“Mmph! I’ll try sir…”

“You’ll do more than try if you want me to continue.”

I tense at his threats, no place more intensely than between my legs.

The moment his nose brushes my clit, I fail. “Ah!”

With a stern look, suddenly I’m seeing stars as he places his open mouth to my folds, pulling them in his mouth and nibbling softly.

“What- ah! By the fade Emmrich!”

“Perhaps I’ll punish your disobedience with overstimulation, mm?”

My eyes start to fill with tears as the utterly overwhelming sensations wash over me one after another. His lips, tongue, teeth, and moustache seek out and stimulate every part of my dripping sex. Licking and sucking, he rubs his nose against my clit while his tongue prods at my opening.

I cry out and scream in ecstasy as he quickly learns from my reactions. “Em! Holy-“

Those graceful fingers push against my hips, one hand holding open my legs and the other shoving me back against the wall with every involuntary thrust of my hips. I struggle to keep my hands against the wall as he determinedly overstimulates me.

Crying out his name over and over, I eventually lose that battle. Dropping my hands down to his hair, I thread my fingers into the silky locks.

But then I gasp as he grabs my wrists, still wrapped in the belt. “Naughty, naughty girl,” he mutters, only looking up at me as he rubs his wet mouth against my inner thigh.

He gets up to his feet, his mussed hair hanging over one eye. He pulls my captive wrists to him as he pushes me towards the bed. His warm breath on my ear makes me shiver. “Can’t even follow simple instructions? Come now.”

Pushing me back onto the bed, he pauses to adjust his bangles before climbing onto me. He takes my bound wrists and pins them to the pillows above my head, leaning in to my neck.

“I only tried to take care of you, my darling. Yet you refuse to obey me? What shall I do to punish you?”

I whimper as he runs his lips and teeth down the curve of my neck. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t- ah! mean to…”

“Mm. You’ll have to persuade me of your penitence. Won’t you obey me properly this time?”

Squirming under his body, his knee working its was back between my legs, I mewl as he lavishes my heated skin with kisses and touches that seem rather more ill-composed than before.

The sheets rustle as he carefully rests more of his body weight on me, his gold jingling by my ear.

He hikes my leg over his hip and I groan as his cock presses against my thigh, nearly at full hardness. Nuzzling at my throat, he murmurs, “Well? Will you, dearest?”

“Yes! Yes, anything you say Emmrich. Please, touch me more.”

His eyes meet mine again, warm. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” Leaning closer, he kisses me again, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between my lips. Meanwhile, his hand moves between my thighs.

Running his fingertips through my wet folds, he teases at my entrance and gently presses against it. We both moan against each other’s mouths at the feeling as he sinks one inside.

My hips buck against his, and his own body responds. “Mm, you are so warm.”

I cry out as he presses his finger in a little deeper, rubbing at my sensitive walls. “Em! Oh!”

He pulls back to look into my eyes as he pulls and presses his ringed finger inside me. “How does it feel, my heart? Have you touched yourself this way before?”

I bite my lip and nod. “But it feels so much better when it’s you.”

“Oh? When you aren’t in control of the motions?” He smirks softly at my gasp as he eases the rest inside. “Do you like that I can reach deeper?”

Cries fall from my lips that he keeps nibbling at. Our bodies start moving in tandem in a small mimicry of what is to come. “Yes! Yes, Emmrich, Em, please yes…”

He releases my wrists to grab my chin, making me look at him as he presses a second finger to my entrance. “You’ll tell me if it is too much.”

With an eager nod, I feel my legs spread further instinctually. “Yes sir.”

His mouth is parted, hair somehow more dishevelled than before. Silver and black obscure his heated gaze as he eases me open for him. “You are taking this so well, my sweet. Such a pretty thing laid out like this.” His thumb rubs slow circles against my clit.

By the time he begins pressing a third into me, my body feels both light and heavy, driven by pure instinct as he thrusts them into me.

“Listen to you. Singing for me. I dare say I am already addicted to this saccharine sound.” Kissing over my face, he moves his hand from my chin to my neck, lightly holding it again. “I hope you are prepared, darling.”

“Em! Please, please I need you.”

He pulls back enough to look at me properly, and my heart speeds up. “Are you ready?” Tsking his tongue, his eyes take on mischief. “But are you sure? I am the one who is more experienced with such things after all. You really ought to yield to my knowledge.”

He scissors his fingers inside me, and my back arches off the bed violently. Groaning, he presses my hips back down with his own. “See? You are still much too wound up.”

We both cry out as he presses his hard cock against my clit, letting the small amount of friction as he moves his hand stimulate me further.

Squirming more, the pressure on my neck increases slightly. I choke out a moan and throb around his fingers, now abusing my most sensitive inner spot.

Emmrich’s eyes take on a gleam as he pushes me closer to the edge. “I want you to fall apart for me. Will you do that for me, dearest?”

“Yes! Em, I’m so close. Please, please don’t slow down!”

His nose brushes mine as he speeds up his motions. “Of course. Anything for you. Come for me, Rook. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers inside you. Let me feel your wetness gush out.”

I flush harder at his filthy words. “Em…!”

Moments later, he pushes me over the edge. I keep my eyes on him as he makes me release for the first time. The sensation washes over my whole body as I writhe and jerk beneath him. He uses more of his body weight to hold me down, his hand on my throat keeping me still enough to finish the job.

“Such a good girl. That’s it, just like that. Come apart for me. Fall apart and cry out my name.”

Tears slip down my cheeks as I finally catch my breath, whining and struggling as he begins to overstimulate me. “Emmrich! Em, that’s all! Please, I already came! Ah!”

“Oh? But you were naughty, remember? This is your punishment.” He chuckles and kisses my shoulder, releasing my neck.

I arch against him, struggling as he continues his relentless assault.

Smirking, he grabs my wrists again, pinning them down. “What was that about not moving? I think you need some training, my love.”

Shuddering and thrusting helplessly against his hand, I cry out his name again and again.

At last, he has mercy on me. “Are you ready now? My radiant girl.”

I nod mindlessly, finally allowed to catch my breath. He removes his hand, moving them both up by my head to rest for a moment. We stare into each other’s eyes, bodies and hair slightly damp with sweat. His foot moves back and forth over mine, his own energy pent up.

Smiling down at me, he leans forward to rest his head on one hand and moves the other to his mouth. Licking once, he then holds his wet fingers to my lips. “Be a good girl and clean me up, will you?”

Tentatively I open my mouth, letting him press his fingers inside, tasting my own essence. He groans as I lick and suck them clean, biting his lip with a furrowed brow.

“That’s it. Good girl. So lovely for me…”

Before I finish, he pulls his hand aside and captures my lips in a searing kiss. He’s ravenous, reaching down to align himself with my entrance.

“I need you, dearest. Please, grant me your first, and I swear to always be by your side.”

Another tear slips, overwhelmed physically and emotionally. “Of course, Emmrich, my love. Take me, please.”

He sighs heavily, his eyes glazed and laser focused on me. He lets his gaze run down my naked body before he presses more firmly against my entrance. “Then, my dear heart, accept me.”

With one arm braced by my head and the other on my hip, he holds my gaze as he slowly begins pushing his cock into me. Both our breath stutter as there’s a brief moment of catching. We both moan as he suddenly slips in a bit deeper.

He nuzzles my temple and murmurs my name again and again. “You feel heavenly, my darling. How do I deserve this pleasure? This honour of being the one to love you?”

I arch against him, my heart pounding as he slowly makes me open up for him. After a few overheated moments, he bottoms out, and we both moan.

“Em… So deep. I can feel you, all of you.”

He strokes my hair through my nonsensical rambling, matching it with his own senseless praise and words of love.

“Might I begin to move? Are you ready?”

I nod, burying my face in his neck. “Yes.”

“Yes sir.”

I cant help that I squeeze around him, and he laughs. “Y-yes sir.”

“Oh? Even now you wish for me to dominate you?” He chuckles and kisses my parted lips. “Well then, I’ll not worry about keeping your wrists bound.”

I gasp and whimper as he pulls back slowly, thrusting back in deeply. Every nerve is alight with the unfamiliar sensation and slight burn of the stretch.

With my wrists tied, I wrap my arms around his neck. He presses his forehead to mine, eyes burning like I’ve never seen as he thrusts into me slow and deep, again and again.

“So tight, goodness, are you sure I’m not hurting you?” he pants.

“No, Em, not at- no don’t stop!”

The grey curls of hair at his base stimulate my clit with every rock of his hips, and I try to match his motions.

He chuckles and peppers my face with more kisses. “No? Very well then.”

I buck and writhe beneath him with every thrust, mewling as the hand that had been comfortingly massaging my hip moves to my breast.

We exchange increasingly nonsensical words as he switches from shallow to deep, fast and slow. I hold him close, my legs wrapped around his waist.

He draws it out, slowing down every time the look in his eyes gets too manic as his own pleasure grows. Groping at my body, whispering filthy encouragements in my ear, making me wet enough to soak our thighs and the sheets below us. He rubs at my clit until it’s puffy and swollen like my entrance as he sweetly abuses my sex.

The pressure builds higher and higher after being overstimulated from the beginning, and my hips arch against his more desperately.

“Em, please, I can’t take it anymore. I need to come! Please sir!”

Emmrich moans and curses under his breath. “Such a good girl asking so nicely. Very well, darling. But don’t say you didn’t ask for this.”

I gasp as he grabs my hips, lifting them against his own for a better angle as he starts fucking me in earnest. The new tempo makes me scream, desperately gripping at the pillow behind me.

Looking up at him, haloed by the faint moonlight streaming in through the windows, I sink deeper into pleasure and subspace. “Emmrich!”

It doesn’t take long before he pushes me to the edge, and suddenly I’m tumbling over it. I can’t help but scream as I cum around him for the first time, his deep, fast thrusts making the orgasm stronger than anything before.

“That’s it,” he pants, gripping my hips harder, “I’m going to mark you as deeply as a man can. You’re mine, say it.”

Tears again slip free as he pounds into me. “Yours! Em! Please, yours- love you much!”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, dearest. Taking me so well. Good girl.”

He pulls my hips close as his tempo falters, pressing as deeply as he can as he finally allows himself to release. His warm seed fills me and drips out onto the sheets as he pumps it into me with more eagerness than I’d have imagined.

Falling forward, he continues bucking into me as he clumsily resettles on top of me. We’re a mess of lewd sounds, damp skin, and ragged breaths, buzzing with the high.

When his hips finally still, the belt is half hanging off one of my wrists, with my fingers entangled in his hair. He nuzzles into my neck and shifts his weight down so he can lay fully on me. Doing so makes his cock slip free, and we both groan at the loss of each other’s warmth.

“You are exquisite, my dear. How I love you. You’re marvellous.” His lips find my nipple, and he takes to kissing and sucking with the last of his energy.

“Mm! Em! Please… mercy!”

He chuckles and grins up at me. “Oh? You would deny me your love?”

I moan and whine, weakly trying to push him away. “S’too much!”

He doubles down, his hand taking care of the other, only to slow down after a moment with a mischievous laugh. “Fine, fine. I must allow you to rest if I am to give you the rest of my love later.”

All I can do in answer is whine.

“Ha, good girl letting me take care of you. Rest now. I will lavish you with more of my skills later tonight. Though all time wouldn’t be enough to give you all my love.”

I card my fingers through his hair. “For all time it is, then.”

#emmrich smut #emmrich volkarin #dragon age emmrich #da4 emmrich #emmrich dragon age #emmrich the necromancer #emmrich x rook #emmrook #rook x emmrich #emmrich romance #datv emmrich #norel writes

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lsunstreakerl · 3 months ago

Text

1.9k of maxiel forced bite/legal adjustments verse. Daniel POV, Max POV, mature content.

Max sleepily presses into Daniel's chest, legs tangled together. He's purring softly, hair brushing against Daniel's nose.

They've been... figuring it out. Daniel wakes up some mornings sick with disgust at himself, but he can't manage to hold onto it, not when Max is so sweet in the nest, waiting for Daniel to come back.

He's ruined his life.

Daniel's been sending email after email, getting paperwork sorted and signed, demanding his agents find the right wording to give Max as much freedom as possible- but it's not what he had before.

The final say will always go to Daniel. They both know it.

He's rumbling anyways, arm wrapped across Max's waist. He didn't-

Neither of them really wanted this, but it's what they have, and Daniel's the alpha here, he's the older one, he's the experienced one, and Max is so young. He deserves to be able to go out and party, to have fun and sleep with random people and make questionable choices in clubs.

Daniel refuses to take that from him, even if they're mated, and he looks down at Max, feeling his soft breaths against the skin of his neck.

He won't fuck him again. Not unless he's in heat, when he needs it- otherwise, Daniel is going to step back. Give Max the space to go back to how he was before, and he's not going to be some overprotective hovering alpha.

The thought of Max going home with someone else makes his stomach turn, grinding his teeth, but that's Max's choice. Daniel's taken enough already.

He won't take anything else.

------

Daniel drops his head back against the wall, eyes narrowed as Seb goes on and on and on, some technical bullshit he doesn't care for. He's been on a hair trigger all week, clenching his jaw and forcing his annoyance down.

His rut schedule doesn't have him lined up for another two weeks, so it can't be that, but he feels like he's going crazy, irritated at every little thing.

He's perpetually aware of Max, as always, a few rows away talking to Hulk, hands gesturing. He's wearing the FIA required flat black elastic around his neck, covering the nape of his neck. Mated omegas are more susceptible to scruffing, so this is the solution.

It has Max's logo embossed on it, because Daniel had refused to put his own, had to bite down on his tongue to avoid snarling at the representative who'd tried to encourage it.

Seb has gone quiet, and Daniel forces himself to look back at him. Away from Max. Always, always away from Max.

Seb looks concerned.

"Dan..."

Daniel presses his lips together. He's annoyed enough as is, the last thing he needs is soapbox preaching about how he's supposed to navigate his new situation.

"It's all good, Seb."

"Is it? Because you smell like rut, and you refuse to touch him, and none of us can figure out what exactly is going on here."

Daniel growls softly, low and quiet. He can see Checo raise an eyebrow nearby, but otherwise he doesn't cause a scene.

"None of your business."

Seb's eyes shift to something sad and gentle, an understanding expression Daniel doesn't want directed at him. He stands abruptly, stepping out into the cool hallway.

He feels hot with it, frustrated and antsy.

He's not going to rut, he's not going to ask for Max, he's going-

------

His teeth sink into a pillow, hips sliding against the mattress, fucking into his own hand. It's not enough.

The pillow doesn't whine or writhe underneath him, doesn't burst with sweet scent snapping under his teeth, the mattress isn't warm and malleable, his hand isn't wet enough, isn't tight enough, isn't enough.

Max is in a different hotel, the exact way Daniel had asked for, and he can feel his absence like a missing limb, keenly aware that he has a mate, and he's not here.

They haven't reaffirmed the bond enough to pass sensations or feelings, and Daniel had done that on purpose, but it hurts. His instincts are screaming at him, rubbing his nerves in all the wrong ways, reminding him of what he has, what he needs.

What he doesn't deserve.

------

He's lying in a pool of his own sweat and cum, hazily awake. He aches everywhere, and his rut isn't over, far from it, but he's having a brief moment of relative lucidity.

His phone is buzzing.

Daniel groans, reaching out one hand to slap around for it, squinting at the bright screen. Anyone important should know that he's in the middle of a rut-

Max V. is calling...

It's a bad idea. It's a terrible idea, Daniel's not sure if he could've come up with a worse one if he tried.

He's answering anyways.

There's a brief moment of static before the call connects.

"Finally, what the fuck Daniel."

Max's lisp rolls over his words, separating Daniel's name into something beautiful, something perfect on his tongue.

He flops his head back into the pillow, shoving a hand down between his hips, lazily rocking into his closed fingers.

"Rut, Maxy."

Max sighs, heavy and crackling over the phone.

"Obviously. Why are you in some other hotel, and not with me?"

There's a pleased rumble somewhere in Daniel's chest. His mate misses him. His mate wants him. He knows there's a whole list of reasons he'd set it up this way, but he's having a hard time thinking of them, tongue thick in his mouth and he starts panting softly, shoving his head closer to the phone to hear Max better.

"Stupid."

Max huffs, and there's a weird rustling noise over the phone.

"Yes, that is you. Stupid alpha. I do not know how this works, so you are just going to have to use your imagination-"

Max cuts off with a soft gasp, and everything in Daniel is abruptly tuned into the phone, listening to his omega. He didn't think Max would dare doing something like this.

The blood is rushing rapidly away from his brain, listening to Max work himself up over the phone, and the visual is doing his head in, thinking of Max pushing slim fingers inside of himself, twisting to get the right angle, unsatisfied because it's not Daniel.

He rumbles, low and vibrating through the mattress, listening to the wet noises through the phone, hitching gasps through the static.

"You're making pretty noises for me, yeah? Just for me."

Max whines, and the noise is doing things to Daniel's brain, to his dick and his instincts and his morals, makes him want to sneak his way back to their hotel, to the room he knows his omega is in.

He doesn't.

------

Daniel feels like shit coming out of his rut, the past few days completely empty in his mind. He could've had a press conference in his boxers and he wouldn't remember it.

His muscles ache, and his hotel room is disgusting, but he's made it, and he's made it alone. He did it without Max, even though he's sure it was difficult- there's bite marks ripped into the pillows, the bed is a mess, and his phone is dead on the floor.

He takes a long shower, carefully collects his things. He'd been determined to not even take any of Max's clothing with him, even if it would've been so easy- he needs to be able to do this alone, doesn't want Max to feel forced or indebted.

The short walk back to the other hotel helps him get his thoughts in order. They're flying back out to Monaco soon, and Daniel needs to finish getting his name on Max's paperwork for his flat. The idea that an alpha would try and hold housing over their omegas head- it makes him sick, the thought of treating any omega like that, and certainly not Max.

He's keeping his own flat, and they'll be separate even in this, the most freedom Daniel can give him. He won't invade Max's space, won't take even more from him than he has. If Max invites him over that's a different story, but Daniel is just going to treat his entire flat like a nest.

He's not going anywhere near it without permission.

------

Daniel hasn't mentioned the phone call. Max had expected something, but it's like it never even happened, like Daniel hadn't growled over the line, told Max how hard to push in his fingers, listened to him get himself off for hours until his phone died.

Max hopes it helped- the internet had said that long distance mates can call for the occasional rut or heat, and while it's nothing like the real thing, it hopefully curbed some of Daniel's more aggressive rut habits.

But Daniel hasn't said anything about it.

Max is trying not to let it get to him. He knows he's not a good omega, not the standard, not small or meek or submissive, but he can- he can try, if Daniel will let him.

Being mated is humiliating at a level he hadn't expected, but the shame burns brighter at just how ashamed of him Daniel is. He doesn't touch Max, doesn't even keep an eye on him most of the time. Max could go hook up with a stranger in a club and Daniel wouldn't even care.

They don't live together, and Max had thought being mated to an alpha was the worst possible thing, that it couldn't possibly be any more degrading, but he's so bad at being an omega his alpha doesn't even want him for a rut.

He wasn't aware that was possible.

It stings, knowing that even at Daniel's most basic instincts, he doesn't want to fuck Max.

Max curls tighter into his nest, whining softly. It smells like him, just him, no Daniel to be found.

Before the bite, Daniel used to come over to Max's flat bringing beer and pizzas, used to roughhouse with him in the garage, used to watch sports matches on the TV and knocks their knees and ankles together.

Now it's like Max doesn't even exist, shoved away in his flat he doesn't own, with an alpha that doesn't care about him.

He'd even take a rut fueled fuck at this point, or a hate fuck, or something- anything from Daniel.

The phone call is the closest they've gotten, and just like everything else, Daniel is pretending it didn't happen.

His next whine hitches in his throat, wet and upset. His throat is thick, and there's a heavy weight in his chest, frustrated and sad.

He's having a heat flash, again. They've been disturbingly constant lately, hitting him out of nowhere, slick dripping down his thighs.

It's not hard to sneak out of the garage when he feels one coming on, and Jake knows- had given Max a mortifying bag filled with heat aids, telling him to have plenty of options for when he and Daniel aren't together.

Embarrassing as it is, Max is glad for the bag, because he and Daniel are never together.

He fumbles off to the side, fingers wrapping around textured silicone, legs dropping open as he feels the heat running through him.

He thinks about calling, just for a moment- wonders what Daniel would do if he picked up the phone and heard Max begging for him.

Daniel's made himself clear though. He doesn't even want Max around to fuck. He's certainly not going to go out of his way and come take care of him, not when he'd rather pretend Max doesn't exist.

Max can't even go to another alpha either, because he's mated. No alpha in their right mind would risk that, pissing off someone like Daniel.

It's just Max, and his silicone, and the audio file he paid for online of an Australian alpha sweet talking him through an orgasm.

He hopes Daniel isn't watching his finances very closely.

#ficlet #legal adjustments verse #omegaverse #so uh #there's clearly some miscommunication happening here #fundamentally different ideas of what the situation is

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