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neopuppy · 10 months

Text

Pretzel (M)

pairing. alpha jeno x female omega reader

genre. non-traditional a/b/o AU, and they were roommates, pw-barely any-p, M/F, one shot

warnings. profanity, gamer Jeno, mild e2l, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8k+

now playing. pretzel//nct dream

smut warnings. unprotected sex, heat sex, masturbation, oral, possessiveness, choking, biting, degradation/praise, knotting, wet messy slicked up filth

———————————————————

Today is going to be a good day, because today you woke up with renewed motivation despite another restless night.

Your apartment is the perfect walking distance from work. Utilities are included in the rent, there’s an adorable bakery across the street that serves the best almond croissants, and the balcony has an amazing view of the mountains.

Not to mention rent was more than within your budget.

Nothing can ever actually be perfect though, your roommate reminds you as he steps out of his bedroom reeking of pungent Alpha scent, shooting you a wink on the way to the bathroom.

“Morning, Omega.”

Your apartment is perfect, other than one insufferable factor.

Jeno Lee moved in last week after your landlord had promised you ‘no issue’ of housing you with another Omega. No issue until it became an issue, that is.

‘You said Alphas aren’t permitted on this floor!’

Mr. Huang shrugs, blaming his son's lack of diligence. ‘Ah, I give him one task! You kids never listen.’

‘I don’t care! I can’t live with an Alpha!’

‘It will be temporary, okay? Technically he paid the first month’s rent in full along with the entire deposit before you. So unless you want to be out on the street by the end of the day, I suggest you learn to live with it. Besides, it’s not the 1900s anymore, what Omega doesn’t use heat suppressants these days?’

You, of course.

Not that you had reason to divulge your medical history to nothing more than a stranger.

‘How soon can you relocate me?’

‘As soon as another tenant moves out, it’s all yours! I’ll make a note of it right now!’

Mr. Huang, of course, failed to mention the fact that none of his current leases had less than 6 months left to go.

‘Us Alphas get a bad reputation for no reason! Anywho! Jeno seems like a really nice young man!”

“Temporary my ass.” You mutter, picking burnt bits off your breakfast. A really nice young man, or the bane of your existence.

Jeno, your new roommate who makes zero effort to shut the bathroom door before dropping his towel, leaving every inch of skin visible for your puffy half-awake eyes to take in.

Jeno, your new roommate who smirks without breaking his gaze while shutting the door enough for the latch to somehow never lock.

Jeno, your new roommate who has no qualms about how loud his moans bounce off the tile shower walls.

Jeno, your new roommate who strolls through the living room still dripping wet, scrubbing his hair dry aimlessly on his way to the kitchen to sit across from you and take a bite of your uneaten toast while scrolling through his phone, occasionally nudging into your shoulder to point out something he finds hilarious.

Jeno, your new roommate who manages to disrupt your peaceful perfection any chance he gets.

———————————————————

“You don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get? You live with a sexy Alpha, and you’re terminally single. Of course I get it!” Your best friend says, clicking her tongue snarkily.

“Me being single has nothing to do with this!” You snap back, pacing back and forth through your living room. Occasionally bending to pick up the various scattered belongings your roommate never seems to put away, from different remotes for his numerous consoles to empty snack wrappers.

“Wait, these are my chips!” You snicker, turning on your heel to storm into the kitchen. “This guy has no respect for me, he thinks I’m an idiot!”

“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous! He seemed really nice the other day when I dropped you off.”

“You met him for 2 seconds and asked me if he has a girlfriend, you have no right to an opinion.” Shifting your phone between your shoulder and ear, you begin to inspect your cabinet, noticing different items missing.

“I knew it!” You exclaim, glaring before quickly explaining that you need to hang up.

“Jeno! did you eat my ramen again?!?”

Another day of living with an Alpha, and another day full of frustration.

From your toothpaste spilling out because someone continues to lie about using it and never properly closing the tube, to your roommate carrying the faint scent of your favorite body wash combined with his overbearing zesty bergamot Alpha musk. Not to mention the amount of times you’ve noticed your groceries diminishing before you could even touch them.

Jeno has more than just an affinity for your belongings, he either had to be doing this on purpose, to annoy you, or he truly did not comprehend the meaning of ‘invasion of privacy’.

“Jeno!”

It’s Sunday, the day you both coincidentally always end up staying home. Not that you do go out for much other than for work and to complete errands— something your roommate never fails to mention when taunting you for being a stay-at-home ‘hermit’.

The beginning of your tantrum goes unnoticed, of course, because while every little thing he does manages to itch through your limbs in the most irritating of ways, Jeno could care less. Your presence never fazed him, if anything you only brought amusement to his day the more you’d stomp and reprimand him over minuscule happenings.

“Jeno!” Another shout of his name is the only warning you give before breaking into his bedroom. The crinkled empty packet of ramen gripped tightly in your hold; because why bother throwing out the evidence after eating the last pack? That would mean he gave a shit.

“Jeno! what the fuck is your prob—“

The scent of crushed up lemon hits you first before the familiar bergamot; dripping sticky bitter fruity juice between, staining everything surrounding along the way with acid. It’s more than overwhelming, locking your knees together, melting your feet to the floor, ferociously curling through your gut.

It’s not Jeno’s usual scent, it’s arousal. His usually annoying scent that clings to every inch of this apartment clouded by raw, depraved, hungry, unmated feral Alpha arousal.

The headphones attached to his head block out the sound of your shrill annoyance, computer screen in front of him displaying a video of a desperate Omega clawing at bed sheets; hurled closer to the camera filming them. Rough thrusts and a fist secured in her hair rip her neck into a painful arch, making the shot of her breasts clapping together much too clear. Tear stained cheeks glow ahead, lifted up by a smile and what you can only assume from reading her lips is ‘More! PLEASE more!’

Jeno grunts from his chest, a loud thwack of skin meeting skin blends with the thick buzz of pleasure filling the four walls you stand awestruck in the middle of, unable to convince yourself to leave and pretend this never happened.

The empty package of ramen drops from your fingers, clutching at your stomach to calm the heat that’s begun to spring, pushing lower the more seconds pass stuck in place; lost to the humid scent of your roommate’s sweat trickling down the side of his face.

Too engulfed with his need to get off, the Alpha has yet to notice you; his profile illuminated by the screen radiating the most light in his dimly lit bedroom. Hems focused, gnawing on his bottom lip with skin folded between his eyebrows, releasing short staggered breaths the faster his forearm jerks. Floppy strands of dark blue hair bounce above his sharp eyebrows, muscular arm rippling beautifully under the shadowed light the more power he exerts.

The deafening obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh draws your gaze lower, choking on a dry inhale at the sight of the tip of his glistening length.

‘This is an invasion of privacy’ you think, convincing yourself to step back without caution.

“Ughh, fuck!” Jeno’s voice rings out deep, gravelly and strained as if he’s been edging himself for hours, and maybe he has..

The realization that you’d last seen him this morning on his way to the kitchen flashes across the back of your mind.

Jeno had paused in his tracks upon spotting you stretched in a split on a yoga mat. Skin tight shorts riding up your bottom, bunched up between your cheeks catching him off guard with his foot stuck mid-air.

‘Uhh..’

Peering over your shoulder, you see his jaws half hung open, his pink lips parted with a lost gaze. ‘What?’

He didn’t respond, continuing to eye from the curve in your stretched foot up to your waist dipping in, unable to neglect a throbbing sensation starting to form inside of his sweats.

‘Jeno!’ You called out annoyed, twisting into another stretch that only arches your back deeper. ‘Do you need something?’

The Alpha straightened up, clearing his throat with a shake of his head before continuing to the kitchen, his hands mindlessly reaching for your half of the cabinet in search of something to munch on; he hadn’t had time to go to the store this week yet, and maybe your food just tastes better than his.

Fuck.

Jeno couldn’t stop himself from sneaking looks over his shoulder, struck by the way you’d gently blot your face free of sweat. The rise and fall of your chest only spurting more thoughts he knows better than to allow himself to have.

It’s been almost a month of this now, of struggling to keep himself collected each time he leaves his room to find you either glaring at him from the kitchen table over a steaming cup of coffee or bent over in some suggestive position. Whether it be with your head buried in a cabinet searching for your favorite ramen bowl that he may or may not have purposely hidden, or your stupid pilates stretches. Those stupid stupid positions you put yourself in, some he had no idea one could even contort themself into.

It wasn’t much at first, Jeno thought sure, yeah, you’re cute. Maybe you’re really cute, especially when you huff and puff around your shared living quarters complaining about your toothpaste again.

It really was a mistake the first time he used it, but the way you bursted into his room screaming about how you pay extra to maintain a pearly white smile tickled him more than it should have.

Creamy wash dangled from the dispenser of your favorite body wash, the one that blended beautifully with your natural scent and clung to the shower walls even hours after you’d already finished washing up. He swiped it off, dragging the sugary sweet white soap down the center of his chest. A spark of excitement heightened the lower he dragged, easy to imagine you there, taking your time to scrub and rub the bubbly foam over your skin until it felt silky smooth; as silky smooth as your bare arm felt against his bumping into each other in the hallway. Soft enough for an apology to get lost on his lips..

‘Sor—‘ Jeno drifted off, the area you grazed prickling on his arm. A tingle shot up his limb from the slight contact, curling his sock covered toes into the carpet while you glared and cursed him under your breath back on your way inside of your bedroom as if you felt nothing at all.

He tried to stay subtle about it, knowing you threw a fit about getting paired with an Alpha to live with, but it became more difficult with each passing day.

Maybe snatching a pair of your underwear had been a mistake, but as he saw them fall from your freshly dried hamper of laundry he couldn’t deny this must be fate. Not with how soft the cotton material felt against his nose, not with the fresh and airy scent of your wash sticking to his palms.

Maybe jerking off with a handful of your body wash hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t deny how much easier picturing you on your knees under the showerhead had become, even after cumming on the wall with his face smashed against the foggy tile; sadly watching his need for you swirl it’s way down the drain.

That’s how Jeno found himself once again searching up Omega’s submitting for their Alpha on the heat hub.

Maybe he returned to the search page for roommates fucking during heats and ruts more than once, maybe he never clicked out. Especially from one particular video featuring an Omega with similar features as yours, an added bonus that she too hated her roommate much like you.

“UGH!” Another whined groan snaps you back to reality, stumbling back as Jeno’s hips jump forward, fucking into his fist faster to climax in time with the video playing.

The bend in his neck accompanied with a string of moans shatters your resilience, stepping on your own foot with the other too distracted as you step back. The small shelf near his door meets your elbow and crashes down, pouring out a pile of video games and DVDs noisily; cursing under your breath at your failed attempt to sneak away without notice.

“Shitshitshit!”

“What the fuck?!” Jeno twists fast, too fast, lunging his head back with the headphones still plugged into his computer. He scatters, speedily shoving his length back inside of his sweats with one hand as his other works to shut off the screen. “What the fuck are you doing in here!”

“I—I—“ dropping to your knees, you try to speak. Tongue heavy in your mouth causing you to stutter, aimlessly patting for the door frame to get out. A familiar pang of heat quickly surfaces, screaming for an Alpha to take advantage of you any way they please.

Jeno fumbles to stand, stopping dead in his tracks when it hits him. Stronger than his own scent, the undeniable waft of Omega slick punches through his chest, choking on a deep inhale of your body's release practically begging to be claimed.

“Heat?” He says quietly to himself, jaw slowly falling open watching you try to move away. Crawling backward with your palms on the floor into the hallway. With the little bit of strength you still have, you turn to run on your knees through the hall, coughing against the urge to stay put and let the Alpha in your presence strip you down to nothing.

Your bedroom door clicks shut just in time to catch sight of Jeno rushing out of his, stampeding over to crash against the door slamming shut in his face.

“You’re in heat??” He asks, sounding it utter awe. Licking across his lips to remoisten them, he’s still too shocked to process everything, groaning with his groin shoved flat to the door to stave off his hunger. The idea that you fell into heat because of him doing more than enough to get him off.

“Aw come on,” Jeno presses closer to the outside of your bedroom door. A smirk evident in his voice as his warm cheek drags against the chilled wood to speak near the small crevice between the frame. “All of this arguing about lack of privacy for weeks and here you are, triggered your heat because you were being a pervert? Naughty naughty.”

“Go away!” You clamber to barricade yourself in even though the doors locked, stuffing a pillow over your face to minimize the pained shriek you let out.

Jeno sighs, softly knocking his forehead against the door. “Promise I’ll be nice if you let me in, it must hurt..”

“Not in heat.” You croak in anguish, dropping your head back to suppress a cramp spiking between your thighs.

“Sure baby..” Jeno’s lips tighten, wondering how long it’s been since you last went into heat with an Alpha around; your scent’s dizzying, churning his already aroused brain to nothing but a pile of mush. “Bet it’s been so long since anyone touched you, hmm? you know you can’t get through this alone.”

“I said go away Jeno!”

The mix of your scents tastes like a drug poured onto your tongue with each struggled breath you take, burying your nose into your pillow harder to keep the Alpha’s more powerful one subdued. It’s impossible with him so close, practically seeping through your walls with each taunting word and delighted laugh he lets out.

“Liked what you saw that much, Omega?” He’s brazen now, fully digesting what this means after weeks of pining for you in secret. Jeno can barely contain a smile, momentarily grateful for the door keeping you divided. “How much did you see, baby?”

He sighs through the door, dragging his knuckles up and down, the sound of it looming above where you crouch and listen. “Did you know I was thinking about you? I always do now. Always think about your soft pretty scent, your tight ass bent over on my bed, teasing me until I stop gaming and fuck the life out of you.”

A gasp collects in your pillow, tightening your legs closer together to stop yourself from squealing as another dollop of slick pours out. The shorts you still had on after finishing your morning workout completely wrecked now. “I know you saw it, you saw everything, didn’t you? Is that what did it for you, baby? Watching me jerk off to another Omega? Did you know I had you on my mind?”

Jeno waits, chewing his bottom lip while picturing your stunned face again; silently absorbing the heavy aroma of slick you left between the hallway walls. “Come on baby, did you know I was thinking about you? Pretending my pretty roommate cried and begged me to go harder, fuck you faster and deeper like some needy Omega bitch in heat..”

Breath lodges in your throat upon his admission, caring less whether it be true or false, he knew exactly what to say to turn your insides upside down.

“Come on, open the door for Alpha.”

A minute of silence passes, and you think about it.

Jeno could help you through your heat, this living situation is temporary anyway. It’s too late to find a clinic to suffer it out at, and your heat wasn’t supposed to hit until next month. You had no time left to prepare, and if your memory serves you right— you need new batteries too.

As much as you try to deny an attraction to your roommate after daily complaints, it’s not as if you have been able to ignore how nervous his presence alone makes you.

Jeno annoys you because you like him, and that’s upset you ever since the day you met.

The tips of your fingers brush around your doorknob, pushing onto your knees with a sniffle into your pillowcase.

“Go away Jeno,” you say finally, shoving back to curl into a ball as your Omega screams to let him in.

“Fine, suit yourself and suffer in there alone all you want.” He chuckles, tapping up and down your door to create a drum that accompanies his sweet vocals. “I’ll be in my room where you found me, waiting for when you’re ready. Come out, come out whenever you want, Omega.”

Footsteps rain heavily through the corridor, beating against your ear. You sigh defeatedly, returning to press up and listen for the familiar sound of his bedroom door shutting. It takes more than a minute, the Alpha lingering down the hall in wait, expecting you to succumb and claw your way out with your hands positioned ready for prayer and beg for his help.

He sighs quietly, but loud enough to your alert senses, shuffling back to his bedroom with the door shutting but not clicking to lock.

You know he means it, it’s an invitation, precisely as he said to recreate what you caught him watching.

The better part of your conscience commends your ability to stay put and control your natural instinct that craves every inch of the Alphas skin under your tongue, but the devil you ignore clawing at your shoulder chants otherwise.

“Fuck me.” You hiss between grinding teeth, pushing your underwear down for a pinch of relief. The first touch of air-conditioned breeze rustling between your hips aches more than usual. In fact, everything aches more than usual, never once had any heat hit you this hard and left you this aroused before.

This had to be Jeno’s fault. Stupid Alpha leaving his enticing scent everywhere. Stupid Alpha pushing your buttons for weeks until you ended up here on your knees contemplating how much more of this you can take.

Delirium takes over your brain before you can even sweep your fingers between your thighs. Slick aggressively pours down the inside of your legs, sticky and wet down to the pits of your knees making everything all the more uncomfortable.

Heats had been bearable for the most part, mostly able to handle it yourself, even still showing up to work on your last couple of days with how well you managed to control your Omegas desires and stayed on top of using suppressants.

Jeno just had to show up and fuck up everything for you, with his stupid dark shiny eyes, his stupid attractive smile, and his extra stupid ripped stature that ignited a hint of fear in your gut every time he stood near you, every time his solid flesh so much as rubbed against yours.

As if your Omega could predict your next move, the devil on your shoulder cheered, encouraging you to hurry before ‘our Alpha’ grows more agitated with us.

“Useless.” Banging your head against the wall, you smear a slick painted on your hand across your shirt, shuddering as another pained moan slips out of you.

Silently pleading for forgiveness to no one other than yourself, your last shred of self-restraint evaporates, twisting the knob to collapse out onto the hallway floor. Jeno’s room seems further than ever now as your knees burn to carry you across the expanse of space separating the two of you. The journey down the hall pricks through your bones, cracking and hurting until you finally barge into his bedroom.

The Alphas exactly as you’d found him earlier seated at his computer chair, another video playing on the screen, headphones back on.

“Alpha..”

A smirk creeps onto his face before looking over to watch you miserably trudge through his room, pathetic with drool already dripping from the corners of your lips.

“Jeno..” Your knees burn and bruise against the floor, slowly crawling deeper in without strength to open the door properly. He fully expected for you to lose control of yourself and find your way back to him, on your knees again as you’d left earlier.

Shifting with his feet paddling against the floor, he swivels side to side waiting until you near close enough to clutch onto his calves, burying your digits along his sweats to hoist yourself higher. “Alpha..”

“You think you deserve anything from me? After I offered you my help so nicely?” Jeno tsks, maintaining an icy expression. Eyes narrowed and jaw locked tight to keep up his cold unforgiving composure even as you pull harder on his sweats to lift yourself between his thighs; even while you drag your face against his upper thigh panting like a thirsty pup.

“I think you owe me..” he says, sucking in a breath between his teeth, leaning his neck to one side. “How can you expect Alpha to willingly help you after treating me like this?”

Jeno continues on, pouting when you scratch at his chest. The collar of his shirt dragged down by your grip on the material to pull yourself closer to him.

“Please, please Alpha, n—need.” You whisper, pressing a wet kiss to his navel that sets a chill of heat down to his groin. The combination of your fierce grip on him and the heat radiating from your fingertips has him fighting to keep calm, slowly allowing his eyelashes to flutter shut as the scent of your prominent thick slick crashes like high-tide waves against his skull.

“What do you need?” Jeno says, lowering his gaze to pan over the distress that’s taken over your beautiful features.

“Alpha please, please don’t make me..”

The dark glints lining his iris flicker with shards of gold and reds from listening to your groveling, but not enough to break his defiance. “Why should I still be nice? Have you been very nice to me, baby?”

With a clear head you’d probably snicker, bite back and mock him in return, but with heat completely engulfing your body you couldn’t find a care to argue. A coughed wail runs from your throat, stradling the small space left on his lap to wrap around the Alphas broad shoulders and soothe your raging heart with his usual bitter scent that’s ripened, sweet as a bowl of freshly cut fruit; staining your tongue with traces of acidity on a hot summer day.

Gripping your waist, suckinghe sucks in a breath as he admires the amount of space his large hands are able to cover. Squeezing you tight as the idea of bruises and marks created by his hands showing up on your hips and thighs manifests beyond fantasy. “There there, you know Alpha will take care of you.”

Jeno pinches your chin, having to bite back his lower lip at the way your mouth wobbles; glossy gaze staring back at him pleading to be ruined. “Good Omegas know how to ask for what they need.”

“Jeno!” You whine, sniffling before a tear slips feeling more desperate and humiliated as he grasps your hip with one firm hand to stop you from grinding. “Please! I need you!”

The magic words pour from your lips, returning the Alphas hold to wrap around your waist to drag you closer; rolling his hips up simultaneously to press your bare core against his sweats forming a darkened puddle of slick upon his groin. “Smell so good for me baby, that’s all for me, right?”

There’s something akin to desperation in the way Jeno’s stares at you while saying your name, pressing the pads of his fingers in your cheeks as he waits for you to speak, to reaffirm that you need him, not just any Alpha but him.

Pawing at his chest, you slowly nod, dipping closer to inhale every bit of him. For a small sliver of his taste to meet your lips. The scent you’ve begun to grow accustomed to feels even more overpowering now, aromatic and lucid inducing; hypnotizing your hips to roll faster for any type of friction against your center.

Jeno forces your lips into a pout, allowing three breaths to pass between you before closing the small distance with his soft pink pout swallowing yours.

He kisses with equal hunger, nestled between your lips to suck and rub. The end of his tongue finding space inside of your mouth as you let out a gasp of surprise. Jeno’s big hands run down your back, kneading your ass over your shirt on the way to grip your thighs.

The Alpha effortlessly moves to stand, lifting you with a secured hold around your thighs to set you on an empty space on his desk. Warm hands roam over your body, pushing beneath your shirt to clutch onto your waist again, this time with his digits sinking directly into your flesh.

“You feel so good, so soft.” Jeno says between breaths, mesmerized by how smooth you feel. His hips rut up between yours, further smearing around the mess of slick coating his sweats.

Bending lower, Jeno lays you back on his desk, licking the spit that's ended on your chin, rubbing his nose against yours before returning to your parted lips to plunge deep inside of your mouth; tongue gliding along yours.

“Al-alpha..” moans continuously spew between strokes of his tongue, losing comprehension with another piston of his hips. The Alphas growing bulge presses stiff against your center, rubbing impatiently on your clit. “please, need you, n—need you now”

Jeno grunts, chewing your lips with his hands exploring, from squeezing your thighs and ass to tracing your shape up to your chest. He’s everywhere, mauling your mouth as he grinds harder, massaging your breasts with a strong hold, fingers tweaking your hardened buds. If not for his unrelenting will to not immediately fuck into you, you’d be sure he’s in rut.

“Need you too.” Jeno whimpers, winding the fabric of your t-shirt around your waist as a handle to grip and jam against you harder. “Need to taste you, feel every part of you.”

“Please, y-yes, Alpha please.”

Jeno nods rapidly, breaking into a sweat still fully clothed above you, large and powerful with his demanding empty thrusts that spiral up your chest, craving for more, more of the Alpha to consume you, more more more.

“Can you cum like this?” He asks breathlessly, a hint of whine singing from his throat as he bends to lick up your jaw, trailing up your ear to suck on. “Cum for me baby, wanna taste you.”

“Alpha, n-no—” his pace is unforgiving now, pushing your shirt up to stuff into your mouth muffling your moans. Jeno grunts listening to the nasty wetness between you, slick dripping down between his thighs leaving his sweats soaked. The table under you a complete mess of arousal smearing its way up to your lower back.

“Oh fuck!” With gritted teeth he pulls away to watch your chest heave, hips lifting up in desperate need. A stream of slick pulses out, squirting onto his shirt and the space under you, landing with a loud obscene splash. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

He can’t wait any longer, dropping to his knees quickly, his mouth attaches to your entrance before you can finish. Swallowing and sucking the last spurts of slick, the shock of his tongue dipping in shooting your spine rigid; bowing up into an arch with your feet scrambling to settle on the desk. “Alpha!”

Jeno groans from deep within his chest, his tongue working in and out of your convulsing heat instantly unable to get enough of the slick pouring down his throat. “Do you even know how good you taste?”

The Alpha growls between slurping slick and licking between your folds, his nose covered with a layer of wetness from dragging up and down your exposed center. The tip of it rolling your clit into a mind-numbing circle as he takes a deep breath, slick filling his nostrils leaving him with hardly any space to breathe.

“Fuckfuck.” Jeno feels out of his mind, days of jerking off to the thought of you all leading to this moment. Ravenous with hunger to swallow you whole, he sucks on your labia folds, alternating the velvety flesh with light nips and pointed licks. Fat stripes of his tongue drag from your rim to your clit, lips pursed around the bundle of nerves to make you shriek.

A repeated chant of ‘so fucking good’ between deep intakes of wet breath sounds between your moans, heated palms squeeze your hips pushing onto the backs of your thighs to lift your lower back from the desk. Jeno stays bent over driving in deeper at this new angle, his tongue pushing in and out stretching your walls purposefully.

Heat licks through your stomach when the Alpha pushes two digits in alongside his tongue, the stretch torturous as he falls into a fast-paced pump. Long thin fingers scissor way inside of you against the strain his tongue works up to, wiggling in deeper until his jaw hinges and locks. The tension in his muscle eliciting a grunt that fills your insides with toe curling vibrations.

Jeno imagines he could die with his face buried between your thighs, wondering how he went this long without your slick lathered on his tongue. His nose rubs back and forth against your clit the more he attempts to push in, slipping another finger into you.

“Jeno! I’m—fuck!” You keen, wrinkling between your eyebrows as a shout and another wave of pleasure crashes over you. White heat filled with lust blacks out your senses as climax fully hits, having to reach for chunks of the Alphas hair to yank at between wailing for him to stop.

The Alphas ears feel foggy, clouded with fuzzy cotton and the screams of your pleased moans. He works past your orgasm, tongue gliding out to only focus on your clit, striking it in repeated motion with lick after lick; long fingers gaining momentum as he buries a fourth in and jackhammers another orgasm out of you.

Your next release hits faster, his arm stiffening to push the tips of his digits against a spongy spot deep inside of you, splaying his other hand under your bellybutton with a harsh suck around your bundle of nerves.

“Jeno!”

Screams sound around the room, eyes rolling to the back of your skull with the assault from the Alphas merciless fingers and mouth. Slick rushes out viscously bursting past the digits lodged deep inside of you, coming to a still as he enjoys the stream smacking him across the face.

“Holy fuck.” Jeno sighs, licking the mess off his lips before dragging out and kissing from over your slit to your entrance, hips twitching up with a whine from the oversensitivity.

“So perfect..” the Alpha mumbles quietly, not loud enough for you to hear over your euphoric daze; still lost in heat and addictive gratification.

He’s quick to strip himself, kicking off the sweats you’ve ruined and coming to stand up straight above you, looming large and broad.

“Never seen a prettier Omega.” He flatters, holding onto your knees to keep you spread open. Another embarrassing wad of slick leaks at the visual of the Alphas built frame hovering above you, his chest defined and abdomen etched in solid muscle, inching closer to your core. “With the prettiest pussy too.”

“Alpha, fuck me already, please!” You preen, squirming in his hold. His praise only does more to heighten your impatience and despair, squirming against the desk impatiently.

“Want me that much hmm? You going to cum that hard on my cock for me too?” Jeno clicks his tongue, sucking a breath between his teeth to lessen his Alphas rage to take you right now. The thought of fucking you for the first time anywhere other than his bed not sitting right with him. Leaning over, he kisses you softly, savoring the pilant moans you share between licks across the seam of your lips. Trailing his tongue inside to twist against yours and pull, drawing your neck and waist to arch up and allow his arms belt around you.

Surprising you with his strength, he squats to haul you off the table, his bed not far off to lay you flat even with his legs shaking after staying hard for this long. Jeno can feel his last semblance of power disappear as he helps you out of your shirt, fully exposed beneath him with your face hidden and ducked against your shoulder as you flush. Suddenly shy with the Alphas dark glossy gaze taking his sweet time to scan your figure and caress your delicate curves.

“So pretty for your Alpha..” Jeno whispers, completely enraptured. Sleek eyes glazed over as they pass across every inch of skin, tickling down your sides to grab onto your hips again. The hiss you let out lets him know it hurts, bruises surely forming in the shapes of his fingers, an image to revel in until he can properly claim you.

“Alpha, fuck me.. please fuck me.” You whine more feverishly now, reaching to scratch and pinch his waist and meld your bodies closer, his thighs forming more space between your hips to settle his length against your core.

“Do you even understand what you’re begging me to do baby?” Jeno questions, lapping his mouth clean as his palm flattening around your throat. “Begging for Alpha to ruin you.”

“Wa—want you, want you to ruin me.” His grip tightens, snaking your throat with a chokehold when you plead for him to make it hurt, make it hurt good enough to remember. “Pl—please..”

“What if I need everything, what if I need every part of you?” He breathes harshly, hips rolling forward to drag his size between your gushing folds. “Will you give me that? Give me everything.”

“Everything,” tears spring free as your hands reach to wrap around his forearm, trembling head to toe with each pass of the Alphas cock from your navel to your clit, the stimulation pushing your mind deeper into an abyss of heat and desire. “I’m yours.”

Jeno’s throat jumps, cursing under his breath as he litters a path of kisses down your jaw, nipping your chin on his way to your chest. Perfectly straight pearly teeth bury into the pert mound of your breast with a growl, shaking his head to sink deeper into the fleshy meat and leave a mark. “So good, so fucking good.”

Loosening his hold on your neck, he traces upward, nestling the end of his nose along the column of your throat in search of your scent gland. His lungs lock dry and tight as he takes a deep long inhale of the sweet fragrance he’s become infatuated with; nipping at your warm skin, teasing you with the threat of marking you to be his. Threat of taking a chance to easily claim you as his mate. Sharp canines dig in enough to break the skin and leave indentations, staying still for seconds to let your scent flow down and fill his lungs.

Thrill races through your spine, having the Alpha this close to your scent gland. Arching for more movement between your bodies, your nails dig into his sculpted sides scratching down leaving viscous red lines in their wake, encouraging him to leave a mark.

Jeno sucks using more strength, raising blood to the surface on your neck in the pattern of a necklace, one for his hand to latch onto and deepen later.

“Jeno, c—can’t—” ragged breath lodges between your lungs with his palm returning to constrict your throat, fingers digging into the sides congesting your next inhale. He growls roughly, like shards of glass have ruined his vocal chords.

“You like that baby?”

Barely able to nod, your body speaks for you as another glob of slick runs down the Alphas length leaving his balls dripping wet onto the bedding. “Get so wet for me, you get wet like this for anyone else?”

“You, you Alpha.” You cry, desperately horny enough to say anything he wants at this point. Brought down to nothing but a pile of putty in his ruthless rough hands, willing to hand over your world for him to destroy.

He hums pleased, licking at the sweat blanketing his upper lip and using your throat to push his shoulders up, gawking in awe at the area you’ve drenched between your lower halves. Slick coats his thighs, abdomen shining under soft light reflecting off of him, the bed topper beneath you ruined. “You like me that much?”

He kisses at the backs of his teeth, rutting between your folds without control, losing his breath as he watches the tip of his size reach past your twitching navel with each swipe up. “Fuck, you gonna be good for me? Be a good Omega for Alpha and take it all?”

“Yesyesyes! Be so good, anything—” you blubber, coughing with your thighs clenched around his hips to lure him in. Hands scrabble on his wrist and forearm to loosen his hold on your neck, wheezing for air. “So good for you Alpha, a—anything.”

Jeno grabs a hold of his length, gripping snuggly around the base to calm himself, leisurely dragging his tip between your folds. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

The thick aroused scent emitting off of you only grows heavier with his murmured flattery, a fresh dollop of slick bubbling out and drenching Jeno’s heavy sack. Tears cling to your eyelashes, a watery plead to be fucked echoes out, blurring past the Alphas ears when another waft of your scent spins his head into an alternate universe; mindlessly dipping the tip of his cock past your tight entrance.

“W—want you inside,” you say, fluttering your eyes shut nervously. “Want all of you inside Alpha, wanna be full of your pups.”

Jeno’s chest tightens, grinding his teeth as he inches deeper into your heat. The wet warmth makes the room spin, compressing his lungs in a way that brings him closer to what can only be described as death, and he knows he’s fucked. He’ll never be able to get enough of you after this.

“Feel you s—so deep,” you stammer, sliding a palm down to your navel to rest against the skin that’s begun to distend as the Alpha stills, head drooping between his shoulders to lower his uncontrollable moans. “Wanna feel your cum.. drip out of me.”

Jeno can’t stop himself from shouting, cursing under his breath while throwing back his head. Wet walls clamp around his size, the pressure shooting through his balls to fuck you with a renewed feral urgency.

Shifting back, the Alpha gazes down between your bodies where you connect, jaw hung loose mesmerized by your cunt refusing to release him. Your walls squeezing, milking his length to your content until he finally sees the tip only to ram forward and fall into a brutal pace.

Hunching forward he bounces you deeper against the bed, exactly where he’d always planned to have his way with you. Fuck you until you cry and beg exactly as you are now. The nonsense and pleasured sounds dripping off your tongue playing like a tune to the rapid volume of flesh meeting flesh. Sharp hips barrel against your thighs, meeting fierce enough to leave bruises in their aftermath.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Jeno whimpers, pushing his mouth against yours, melting into a messy kiss that’s more drool than lips meeting. Teeth clink together, swallowing shared breaths between failed attempts of locking lips. “How are you this perfect for me?”

The Alphas hands cup under your ass, groping to lift your bottom up and meet his furious speed. Tingles explode throughout your limbs from his praises, searching for refuge in his shoulder to hide the undeniable burn racing across your cheeks.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” Jeno commands, pressing his nose against your cheek. “My pretty Omega.”

Raspy sweet vocals sing everything you need to hear right now, the constant mine mine mine twisting up your gut. The Alphas thick length works fast, thrusting into you at a spine-breaking pace, lifting your waist up to arch.

“Pl—please, please,” you croak, biting down on Jeno’s shoulder as a blood curdling scream tears through your chest. His cock catches on your entrance with each pull out, wrapping your legs tighter to lock your ankles around his lower back.

“What are you begging for?” the Alpha mouths at your jaw, nipping and licking sweat off your cheek.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Jeno can’t believe what a slut his roommate is, already fucked stupid and still demanding more. Moving to slide his arms under your back, he sets a violent pace. The scream you let out scratching your vocal chords up, urging him to fuck you faster. Fuck you until your heat breaks.

“Yesyesyes! Alpha!”

“God,” he gasps, disoriented. Disbelief of how well you take it rocking his brain side to side. Taking it like you belong to him already. “Made for me, aren’t you baby?”

He’s fucking into you even faster, harder, every inch meticulously dragging inside of you. The room humid and hot with a combined heat building off your bodies, skin beating against yours all sweaty, sticky, covered in slick.

“Fuck baby, how are you still so f-fucking tight.” Jeno preens, his voice cracking the more you clench around. “Feel too good, feel too damn good..”

Planting you with another sloppy kiss, he straightens back to push your thighs against to chest. Weighing more on your air passage as his hips drop faster, knees bracketed around your distraught face adding to how delirious and lost you feel.

“Al—alpha.. br—..” with a lifeless sigh, you crumble. Angled perfectly to watch his length bury in and out of you. The thick size of his girth spreading your cunt open more than you’ve ever seen, breaking you to never need anyone else. No one would ever come close. “Breed me.”

Jeno’s eyes snap open, his hands squeezing roughly along the backs of your legs. He can’t stop now, not with how you gaze up at him like he’s a God. The hazy stare you focus on him, admiring the man above you so full of list, sending him toppling over the edge.

Tears, drool, and sweat spill past your lips, huffing empty breathless cries. The Alphas cock burying into you to the brim protruding your stomach out again. His massive size rearranging your insides, erasing the last shred of sanity you had with another roll of his hips.

Incoherent noises break from your parched throat, the most painful and satisfying orgasm ripping through your body, strong enough to leave you feeling brainless. Eyes rolled back as your lower half jerks, squirting aggressively enough for Jeno to nearly break into tears as he stays rooted inside of you against the pressure trying to rip past his length and push him out of the way.

“God damn..”

He fucks you through it, dragging your limp body higher up the bed as he races to completion. A gutted growl slices through the thick air around you, his knot expanding as hot white ropes painting your insides. Teeth gritted as he leans down and lays a pathway of kisses up your chest, licking over your scent gland again, more desperate to bite and have you as his mate.

The Alphas knot continues to stretch you open and grown, instinctively lulling another weak orgasm out of you the more your tight muscle pulls around him. Locked together with half-lidded eyes lazily taking in the afterglow painted over your expressions, the heat subdues enough to at least feel half-awake and process reality for the moment.

“Thank you..”

Jeno smiles, adjusting his arms to loop around your waist and position you both more comfortably on your sides until his knot deflates. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because..” you mumble, tucking in your chin to hide as warmth rushes to your cheeks. “..I wanna be good for you..”

His cock pulsates watching your expression shift to a demure innocent one, stifling a groan by biting on his lip. He nudges your forehead with his nose, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You are the best for me.”

Jeno’s affirmations reach deep with your heat feeding off the Alphas energy, the ache between your thighs stinging again, punching through your gut. Tightening around his length as he slims down to a normal size.

“Alpha..”

“My baby needs more already?” He smiles softly, pecking away the pout you give him as he maneuvers to slowly pull out of you.

“Come on, present yourself, show me how much you want it. Show me how good you can be for your Alpha.” Jeno says with a hint of cockiness laced through his tone. Slapping your hip enough to sting and have you lazily turning over, hissing as your knees drag on the wet bedding; lowering your chest to shove your ass out with a defined arch in your spine.

He can’t believe how wrecked your cunt looks already, swollen and coated in his seed. His fingers smear the mess of your mixture up to push more inside of your hole, drawing sad little whines out. “Perfect Omega for me. Mine.”

Sniffling, you nod, swaying your hips for more even if you feel ready to pass out. “Yours.”

The Alpha sits up on his knees, slapping the underside of his length against your rim and slit creating filthy sounds of wetness around you. His cock coats in the remnants of his release and slick that won’t stop flowing out of you. “Fill you up with my pups, like my good Omega deserves.”

Sheathing back in, he lets out a guttural groan, eyes rolling back as blunt nails dig into your sides. His cock throbs against your swelled walls, wasting no time to fuck and breed you full of cum again and again. The reminder that you belong to him now never failing to sing from his lips release after release with his hands tangled in yours.

“Mine, meant to be mine.”

The Alphas aroma shifts the air around you before he can settle back into bed, humming as he plops back onto the space next to you.

“You’re not going to believe this but..” Jeno laughs bitterly, nuzzled against your side with his phone in hand. “Mr. Huang emailed about an eviction on the Alpha floor..”

“Hmm? Eviction?” You question lazily. Still drowsy with your nose buried in Jeno’s pillow to quell your heat for a moment.

“Yeah.. looks like I can move out by next week..” he trails off mournfully, clearing his throat as he locks his phone.

“Move out?? What?” those words are enough to have you shooting up to sit, hissing from the way your entire body stings. “Wht?!”

“Uhm, because you want me to move out?” Sitting up on his elbows, he cocks an eyebrow, the one he recently put a slit in that you absolutely hate(love). “Weren’t you just ranting to your friend about how insufferable and disrespectful I am?”

“See, eavesdropping is disrespectful,” rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his tight stomach, returning to cuddle into the Alphas pillow. An instant blanket of calm wraps around your limbs with one inhale as his trademark scent consumes your senses. “Do you want to move?”

“Not really..” Jeno admits, laying back down to meet you at eve-level. “I doubt a new roommate would buy the same great snacks and ramen you always manage to find.”

“Do you see how you’re insufferable?” You tut, rolling your eyes playfully.

“As long as you’re willing to live with me.. I’d like to stay.” He smiles genuinely, draping an arm around your waist to press closer. “..and maybe see where this goes..”

“This?”

“Us.”

“..when’s your next rut?”

Jeno cracks into a wide smile at that, tickling up your back to make you curl into yourself and expose your throat for him to kiss and lick.

He may or may not have made all of that up, who knows really. It’s not as if he doesn’t proudly carry the title of being your insufferable Alpha roommate without good reason.

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #lee jeno fanfiction #jeno fanfiction #neopuppy fics #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fanfiction #lee jeno x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction

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jjoongstar · 1 month

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𝑨 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

⚜pairing: statue!yeosang x gn!reader

⚜genre: fluff

⚜rating: sfw

⚜warnings: none, just kissing

⚜wc: 888

⚜a/n: i was inspired by a pic sent by @acupoftaewithsomesuga on discord, yeosang looks so gorgeous. so yea, that's how this was produced. feedbacks are much appreciated! (tags are at the end)

you snuck into the art museum by the back door. your steps were quieter than the footsteps of a mouse that night. you glance over your watch to check the current time. 11.48 pm. its almost time!

you continued your steps upstairs towards the one and only exhibition hall. the whole area was empty. decorated by plain dull walls as its main focus was on the art piece at the center of it.

a large statue, carved by a talented artist. it sits on a stone that was also created by the artist, into what seems like a throne to the statue. its face was well made, accentuating its sharp nose, high cheekbones, and beautiful lips. his body structure was magnificent. broad shoulders with fine built chest. the collarbones of a glorious hero. arms and hands full of grace such as a goddess.

but what's most of the reason how you ended up sitting on the cold marble tile floor with your legs pulled up to your chest, eyes gawking up to the piece, is his captivating eyes. a deep set with almond shape. colours of a rich and dark hue that adds the depth of his intrigued gaze.

"oh, hello there little one," your smile widens, showing off your front teeth when your adoration was interrupted by the statue himself.

every night past midnight, all the art piece in the art museum will come to life up till before dawn. it was a little secret only you knew as it was a secret magic by the artist too.

"hello mr. kang yeosang, the majestic guardian of eden," you read the name of the piece that was place on a slate on the foot of the statue, in a giddy way.

"please stop calling me that dear, we've met multiple times already, come up here," the statue chuckles as he reach out his hand to you.

you got up and took his hand, it felt so cold to your touch. he pulls you up to sit on his lap and you made yourself comfortable there. you lean your body to rest on his chest and giggles when his arm wraps around your smaller figure, securing you better in his embrace.

"yeosang," you mutter as you trace your fingers all over his place and your thumb lingers longer at his birthmark under his eye. it was your favourite feature of him. a flaw that made him look more striking to the eyes of humans.

"my little human," he place his other hand on the side of your neck and you shudder at the cold touch of his fingers.

"my gorgeous sculpture," he replied back to your compliment by placing his lips on yours.

you wrap you hands around his neck and chase his lips back. for a statue, his lips were rather smooth and cold, but it also felt soft and sweet to your mouth. you pulled back first as you shudder again when he trace his cold fingers to your exposed thighs.

he loves your little reaction of his touch. he bits your lower lip, wanting your attention back to his lips. you happily obliged to his request and kiss him back.

you push his chest away after a while for you to catch a breath. you're slightly panting but when you look at him, he just smiles at you. must be fun not having lungs and the need of air to breathe.

"wanna go for a walk?" he agreed to your request and pecks your lips once.

he gently place you back on your feet on the floor before he got up from his seat. you wrap your hands around his thick forefinger and drag him out of the hall.

you walk around together and explore every areas together. giggling, laughing and waving back to paintings, who loves to see you two together. you both enjoyed each other's presence the whole time.

he'd even played hide and seek by trying to blend in with the other statues, and they tried so hard to make yeosang look like one of them.

"i found you yeo!"

"how did you find me so fast," he whines with a pout on his face at you.

"you're just too striking sangie. even if you place yourself in a hall with a thousand statues, i will always find you," he gets so shy with your words and he blushes so hard. you pulled him down closer to you and kisses his cheek.

after a while, it was time he needed to get back on his podium. he gives you a final tight hug, just enough for you to feel his love for you. though with his strength and build, he might crush you. he plants a last kiss on the crown of your head before he head back to his throne.

"tonight was amazing, i enjoyed it really well with you, thank you," you said you final words before he smiles back at you and went back to his initial pose.

you glance out the windows and the sky would turn brighter soon, it was your cue to leave. you turn back your heels and look for the exit.

"i love you." the tall mighty statue mutters quietly under his breath upon seeing your back facing at him when you were bout to leave him for the day.

dividers

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networks: @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

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veronicaphoenix · 2 months

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zutto — chapter four | wc: 8.5k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

chapter summary: things get steamy between lia and noah

tags and trigger warnings: mentions of lia's overdose and withdrawal episode, mentions of parents' neglect and childhood trauma, ptsd, slight angst, fluff, sexual content including nipple play, oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, p in v (protected and emotional lol), mentions of choking (but not happening), noah feeling proud of himself and his fingers 🤭

add. info: i pictured noah with this hoodie and shorts + the chapter in which Lia gets her nipple pierced and teases Noah about it can be read here (ikigai: chapter 12).

general trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

With the water sliding over her body, Lia shrank further into herself, hugging her legs as she remained seated on the shower floor. She let the warm drops of water soothe the uneasiness that still coursed through her, closing her eyes and wondering why she kept letting herself become so insecure and doubting Noah’s feelings for her.

Lia understood that what had just happened wasn’t unexpected. In just five days, she had gone from taking five pills a day to one. It was normal for her body to be resentful, to ask for more, and when denied, to turn against her.

But that had nothing to do with her doubts about how Noah felt about her. Those doubts were born of the trauma she carried since childhood, caused by her mother. Lia didn’t want her mother to have power over her, especially now. She was a grown woman with her own life. It had been almost a decade since she had last seen her.

No matter how many times her mother’s words replayed in her head, telling her that once Noah got tired of her, he would leave her for another girl because all men were the same.

Cristina was wrong.

She had always been wrong, but most of all, she had been wrong about Noah. And Lia was determined to break free from the chains her mother had tied around her, which had kept her bound even miles apart.

A heavy sigh filled the shower space, camouflaged by the sound of water falling on the tiles and the rain still falling outside.

Lia opened her eyes. Though what she saw in front of her was the water-wet white of the wall, she allowed herself to imagine how different things would be if she and Noah gave each other a chance, if they put the promise they made as children behind them once and for all, and accepted that their lives had been intertwined since the moment Noah stopped his bike in front of a tiny, tousled-haired Lia.

Falling in love with each other had been inevitable.

Maybe it hadn’t been love at first sight, for they had been children, but no one could deny there had been something special surrounding them that morning, something that led Noah to stop in front of the girl on the sidewalk, and made Lia trust the almond-eyed boy.

With a small, shy smile, even in the solitude of the bathroom, Lia closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees. An itch that started at the tips of her toes spread throughout her body. With her head resting on her legs, Lia waited for the bathroom door to open.

She waited for Noah to appear, to shed his clothes and join her underwater. She imagined him sitting in front of her, wrapping his arms and legs around her, their bare, wet skin touching. She envisioned him rising to his feet and lifting her, his hands finding her skin, his fingers exerting pressure on her shoulders before moving to her hair to massage her scalp and wash her long brown locks. She imagined him kissing her, long and lingering, then pressing his lips all over her face and shoulders, pressing her body against the cold wall. But she wouldn’t feel the cold because the warmth of Noah’s body would envelop her.

But minutes passed, and Noah didn’t appear.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, Lia stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She paused in front of the mirror, steam swirling around her. The girl in the reflection was her, and though she had lost weight and bore the signs of the stressful weeks on tour, the lack of sleep, the alcohol abuse and her overdose, she told herself she was getting better. Soon, she would be able to smile when she saw herself in the mirror again. What had happened in the living room half an hour earlier had been a test, and although she had passed it with Noah’s help, she had passed it, nonetheless. The Lia she had spent months not recognizing was being left behind.

Ten minutes later, Lia was still in the bathroom. Her thoughts had calmed down a bit, and drying and brushing her hair had distracted her. At least until she realized that, to get to her room and get dressed, she would have to cross the hallway wearing nothing but the white towel she was wrapped in. Funny. All those times living with the boys, they had freely walked around like that without anyone making a fuss or looking indecently at one another. She recalled standing in the living room in a purple towel, her hair wet, as she scolded Jolly, Jesse, Noah, and Mike for using up all the hot water. Jesse was the only one who bothered to acknowledge her irritation, while the others remained engrossed in their video game, uninterested in the barely covered girl in their midst.

Now, things felt different. They were different. Despite having already crossed that line of intimacy with Noah, she felt a pang of nervousness and self-consciousness at the thought of him seeing her like this: covered only by a thin towel, her skin glowing from the moisturizer she had applied, her hair still falling damp over her shoulders. The fluttering butterflies in her stomach and the occasional void made her breath quicken. She had to take a moment to calm herself before having another fit, this time over something entirely different.

She knew Noah was somewhere nearby, probably sorting out the mess she had made. She couldn’t stay hidden in the bathroom forever.

She peered out from the door and waited until she heard the clattering of things in the kitchen. She crossed the short distance between the bathroom and her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She switched on the lamp on her side of the bed, not wanting much light in the room.

Resting one hand on the mattress, she let herself be enveloped by a wave of exhaustion. It wasn’t unwelcome; it was simply the weight of everything that had happened falling from her shoulders to her feet. Leaning on her bed gave her a tranquility she hadn’t experienced in weeks. The episode in the living room minutes earlier had drained the last bit of energy she had left. But now that calm had settled in the house after the storm (even though the real storm was still raging outside), she felt a strange clarity. The desperation and raw need had dissipated, leaving behind a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time. Noah’s presence had been her anchor, and now she felt more centered, more herself.

She dropped the towel, glancing hesitantly toward the door as she reached for a white drawer in the corner where she kept her underwear. She picked a simple set: white in color, thin cotton fabric. The softness was a comforting touch against her skin as she pulled on her panties. She slipped her arms through the straps of her bra, noticing Noah’s clothes piled on another piece of furniture: t-shirts, joggers, and underwear. Despite still feeling a light dizziness if she moved too quickly, the sight made her smile because it felt comforting to see his clothes in her room.

She was about to clasp her bra behind her back when the bedroom door creaked open. Her hands froze in place, her eyes shooting up to Noah. He took a wide stride into the room, his eyes focused on the t-shirt he held in his free hand before lifting his head and widening his eyes.

“Fuck,” he stood there for a moment, hand still on the doorknob despite having taken a wide stride into the room. He blinked, his mouth agape. “I-I’m sorry, I thought you were still in the shower,” he stammered, but his gaze lingered, raking over her petite frame, over the simple yet cute white undergarments, her curves, the swell of her small breasts.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her; like that, and naked. He had spent the last thirty minutes debating whether he should check on her, whether he should knock on the bathroom door and ask how she was doing.

He had imagined Lia asking him to come in, to get in the shower with her. He had thought about that and how it would feel to have her in his arms again, naked this time. But he had refrained because he didn’t consider it appropriate to be thinking about it in that delicate moment, no matter how much the lustful part of him wanted to have sex with her.

While Noah dealt with his own emotions, a mixture of embarrassment and something else Lia couldn’t quite place spread through her. Her hands remained at her back, holding the bra clasp, her body exposed to Noah’s admiring—and hungry—eyes.

Noah tried to tear his eyes away, but he was unable to completely break the spell that seemed to hold them both. He was holding his wet t-shirt in his hand, having changed into a hoodie, but the sight of Lia in her state, with the warm, golden glow of the only lamp in the room falling over her, left him mesmerized. Her hair was open but still damp, falling over her back in waves that reminded him of desert dunes. Her big eyes seemed to be alight even in the dim light, her lips pink and moist. He even noticed the little bumps of her nipple piercing pressing through the thin fabric of her bra.

Lia fumbled with the clasp, finally securing it, but she didn’t reach for any other clothing. For a moment she felt scared, worried that she was about to have another fit from feeling overwhelmed. But she quickly realized it wasn’t the same anxiety and desperation coursing through her veins. This time, it was desire, lust.

She held her breath for a moment as images flooded her mind.

Then she took a tentative step toward Noah.

They stared at each other, letting all the feelings they had flood them and the space that separated them. Noah’s grip on his wet t-shirt tightened before he turned to leave, the spell almost breaking.

Almost.

He looked so cozy, so soft in his hoodie and shorts; she just wanted to be wrapped in his arms, to fall asleep secured against his chest, with his soothing voice in her ear.

Lia called out, her voice a soft plea, “Noah.”

He turned back to her, seeing the small, almost invisible step she had taken toward him. Her eyes were wide open, filled with a mix of hope and fear.

After a few heartbeats, Noah muttered a curse to himself and dropped the t-shirt. His movements were quick; he walked to her, and even though it only took him three steps to reach her, the moment seemed to stretch and then compress as he finally got to her.

His hands found her face, and Lia only had a second to catch her breath before he clashed his mouth down on hers.

The chains Cristina had kept on her daughter broke, and Lia reached for Noah as she should have done long ago: with need, desperation, and yearning.

In that instant, the world outside ceased to exist.

The kiss was urgent, a clash of need and longing that had been building for far too long. Lia’s hands slid up to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline. Noah’s hands moved from her face to her back, pulling her closer. Lia melted under his touch as her hands tangled in his damp hair as his lips moved hungrily against hers.

Noah’s hands roamed her back, desperate to touch every inch of her. She felt soft and delicate under his fingers, cold to the touch but refreshing. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, the gentle dip of her waist, every little spot he had wanted to touch for years. He wanted to memorize every contour, even if he could repeat this moment over and over from today onward. The best part was that Lia’s body was responding eagerly to his touch. She arched into him, seeking more of the warmth and reassurance he offered, her small breasts pressing against his thick hoodie, her fingertips sliding up and down his scalp, her breath being swallowed by him.

Increasing the grip around her waist, he slid his free hand down the curve of her ass, tempted to squeeze. Instead, he grabbed hold of the back of her thigh. His damp shorts pressed against Lia’s bare thighs as he lifted her effortlessly. His dick twitched in his underwear at the way her legs instinctively wrapped around his middle. She could feel the coolness of his wet clothes against her heated skin, and the contrast added another layer of ecstasy to the electric tension growing.

Without a word but with his lips capturing hers over and over, he carried her to a nearby piece of cheap Ikea furniture, placing her gently on top. Lia’s fingers found the hem of his hoodie, pulling him closer as their kisses deepened. She felt gloriously overwhelmed when his large hands found her face, nearly encasing it and providing a warmth that seemed to alleviate all the pain she had felt earlier.

With a soft moan, Lia leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss to catch her breath. Noah’s forehead rested against hers, their eyes locked in a gaze filled with longing and unspoken promises. His thumbs gently brushed over her cheeks as if committing every detail of her expression to memory.

“Lia,” Noah whispered, his voice restrained.

She loved the way he said her name, as if he didn’t know what to do with her, what to do to her.

She silenced him with another kiss, a silent affirmation of her own feelings. She tasted the rain on his lips. Her hands moved down from the nape of his neck to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths beneath her touch.

Noah responded with his own hands exploring her skin with reverence and passion because there was no way he could ever deny her anything if he had her like that. He traced the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulders, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in his wake. Lia’s wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the symptoms she had experienced not long ago, but her senses were heightened, and every one of Noah’s touches were setting her skin ablaze.

“Lia,” he breathed heavily against her, between kisses. She nibbled at his lower lip and she swore she heard him growl. He pressed his forehead to hers, his head shaking a bit as if trying to say no. His eyes remained closed. “We don’t have to,” he said. It took him a few seconds to continue, “I’m in no rush. I can wait.”

She held his face in her hands, prompting him to open his eyes. They were fogged, as if a layer of conflict and lust were keeping him from seeing the reality unfolding in front of him. “I made us wait long enough,” she told him. “And I want you.”

Noah closed his eyes again and shook his head to one side again, as if in pain. “As much as I love to hear that, you need to rest. You just had…”

“I just had a shower,” she cut him off. “I’m…” She wasn’t sure what the right word was. Better? She licked her lips, lowering her voice to a sweet whisper, “Now, I need this. I need you,” she stared into his eyes like a puppy would, then kissed his neck. He tasted like rain. She wanted to lick him all up. She placed a soft kiss on his jawline, “Make everything feel all right, please.”

He stared into her brown eyes for a second, reading the plea in them and everything else that hid behind them. Without another word, he kissed her again, his hands resuming their journey with purpose, caressing her with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his lust.

Lia’s fingers fumbled with the hem of his hoodie. He was wearing one of her personal favorites, but she would have time to tell him that later. Now, her frustration was taking most of her attention as she struggled to lift the fabric over his head, mainly because Noah wouldn’t disengage his arms from around her. With a determined tug and a whiny sound against his mouth, he relented, allowing her to pull it up as he lifted his arms to help, his muscles flexing beneath, his tattooed torso revealing to her eyes.

Lia’s breath hitched at the sight. The scent of rain lingered, mingling with his Sauvage perfume and his unique, earthy aroma. As her eyes roamed the details of his chest that she had longed to memorize, she felt intoxicated. The man standing before her was hers to touch, adore, breathe in, and love.

Noah cast the hoodie aside and let out a breathy chuckle at Lia’s expression. He had never been looked at the way she was looking at him, as if he were a Greek God, something worth quickening her heartbeat.

A tiny smile played on her lips, mirroring his expression. The heat between them intensified as their bare skin touched, her nipples hardening through the fabric as they brushed against Noah’s chest. He placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her closer, his hips colliding with hers. She gasped, but he swallowed the sound with his kiss.

Noah’s hands traced the curve of her waist and the softness of her skin. It was a touch he had dreamed of countless times, but now it was real. Lia’s breath hitched against his lips as he moved his large hands under her backside and lifted her. He picked her up, feeling her weight and warmth pressed against him. Lia moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as he turned them around and moved them toward the bed.

Noah didn’t break their kiss as he laid her down gently on the mattress—not that Lia would have allowed him to, for she kept a hand at the back of Noah’s head—, pressing his mouth to hers, her legs keeping his growing erection pressed against the spot between her legs.

Bracing himself with one knee on the edge of the bed and the other foot on the floor, his height allowed him to loom over her. He kissed her jaw and trailed down to her neck, reveling in the delicate sounds of pleasure escaping her lips.

He wanted to savor every moment, every touch. Lia’s knees tightened around him, urging him closer. His fingers trailed down her stomach, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She arched towards him, silently urging him lower, but instead, he traced his hand around her, slipping underneath to unclasp her bra.

Noah’s gaze never left hers as he fumbled with the clasp, his fingers deft yet deliberate. He slid one strap off her shoulder, then the other, until the piece was off. He abandoned it somewhere on the mattress. His focus shifted from Lia’s expressions to her near-nakedness beneath him, his eyes falling to the piercing adorning her nipple; the soft pink of her breast a tantalizing sight.

As he looked up at her, hypnotized and clouded by a primal hunger, their eyes locked in a moment that took them back in time. Memories flooded back—the day Lia had gotten her nipple pierced. She had teasingly remarked to him that it was a shame he would never get to see it because they were best friends, and best friends never saw each other naked. Now, in the intimate space od Lia’s bedroom, with the rain falling outside and their breathing ragged but synched, he gazed upon the delicate silver jewel adorning her nipple. Noah felt a rush of emotion. It looked beautiful on her. He couldn’t wait to pull at it with his teeth.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Lia was torn between self-consciousness and a fierce desire. She wanted to give him everything, to bare herself in every sense of the word. If this was what he wanted, she was ready to give it to him. Because she wanted the same thing. She had wanted it for so long that she had nearly driven herself crazy trying to conceal it with lies.

Noah ran a hand down Lia’s side, starting at her neck, moving over the curve of her left breast, and settling on her hip, where he took time to admire the flower-wrapped dragon tattoo. The tattoo was beautiful: a long, Japanese dragon with a fierce face that represented Lia’s determination, courage, and strength. In the center of the tattoo was a big orchid, and around the dragon’s tail, another bunch of flowers that represented her purity and sweetness. She had designed it herself, and it hadn’t been more than three years since she’d added it permanently to her skin. It was the largest tattoo on her body, descending from her waist to her thigh. As tempting as it had been for Noah to admire the tattoo every time Lia walked around the house in just a t-shirt or when they’d been at the beach or at a friend’s pool, he had been good about it and pretended not to make a big deal out of it other than the day Lia showed it to him, when it was still freshly done and the black shimmered and stood out. It was perfect for her. On her.

There was no stopping his fingers as they traced the contours of the dragon and the orquid, only interrupted by the seam of Lia’s white panties. Lia’s breath quickened when she thought he would remove them, but first, he moved up again to kiss her, to show her how much he wanted this, her.

He tried to keep his ministrations gentle, but when his hand fell on Lia’s breast, he couldn’t help himself and squeezed, then played with her nipple between his fingers, prompting her to arch herself towards him, asking for more. She moaned against him. Loudly. When their eyes met and he acknowledged the lust in her eyes, he slid down, kissing her neck before his mouth found her pierced nipple. He licked and toyed it with before nibbling at it, holding Lia with one hand at her back and arching her up to him. With her hand also pressing at the back of his head, there was no escaping. She was soft and sweet, and having her hard nipple in his mouth only made him think of how wet she would already be for him.

He nearly lost it at the thought.

Impatient, he ignored the storm outside, forgotten also to Lia as she lost herself to Noah’s touch. He made his way down, kissing every inch of skin, her navel, the tiny scar at her waist. There was reverence in his touch. Lia had never felt so good, so loved.

He hooked a finger in the hem of her panties. He almost chuckled at how fast Lia lifted her hips, urging him to take them off. He would’ve laughed, yes, but he was too mesmerized by having her totally naked on a bed and under him to act natural. He felt entranced.

He slid her panties down her legs with a deliberate slowness that sent another shiver through her. As he held the delicate piece of clothing in his fingers and stood at the end of the bed, looking down at her with something like fire in his eyes, her breath caught at how small her panties looked in his long, slender fingers, and how big the bulge in his shorts had grown. He stood frozen for a while, taking in her body, the fairer skin on her breasts and pussy, the martini shave, how delicate and vulnerable she looked, yet confident and willing to give every part of her to him.

The cold air in the room brushed against Lia’s bare core, causing her to instinctively close her legs, a pang of shame washing over her at the same time. That prompted Noah out of his trance. He let her panties fall to the floor at the same time he clicked his tongue softly in disapproval.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. He placed his hands on her knees and gently pried them open. “Never hide from me,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers with intensity. The current that spread through her body threatened to make her woozy. “I’ve already seen you, Lia.”

With his words fading into the air, Lia swallowed, her throat dry with nervous anticipation. “Not like this,” she whispered.

Noah’s expression softened as he gazed down at her. His fingers brushing against her knees before he kneeled on the floor, right in front of her. He leaned in to kiss her ankles softly, all the while keeping his eyes on her, almost smiling at Lia’s satisfied expression and at the way her breath caught every time his lips lingered on a certain spot, especially the one he found on her inner thigh that made her tick.

“I want you like this,” he murmured against her sensitive skin, his hands tracing a path up her calves.

I want you to trust me.

Lia’s heart raced as she looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his desire, hunger and the tenderness all mixing in his eyes. She felt lucky as ever. A smile bloomed on her face as she slowly relaxed under his touch.

Knelt on the floor, right in front of her, right between her legs, he leaned in, his brown eyes were mischievous but also full of adoration. He inhaled her scent, his heartbeat speeding up at the realization that he was about to taste her. Finally, after months of dreaming of it, he was going to eat her out; make her his in a way he had only fantasized about.

When the tip of his tongue touched her skin and traced a slow circle around her clit, gentle and deliberate, Lia gasped, her eyes unable to maintain contact with his. Noah’s eyes stayed on her, watching every reaction as a hawk. He was careful not to rush, wanting to learn her body’s responses. He didn’t yet know the nuances of what she liked—the rhythm, the motion… There was so much to learn, so much that he wanted to teach her and do to her, so much that they would explore and learn together after this evening.

He was thrilled to an extent he couldn’t put into words, so instead, he let her know with his tongue.

Lia contorted underneath him, her body responding to his touch in beautiful, involuntary movements. As Noah circled one of her thighs and pressed his other hand to her lower stomach, he relished in every taste of her, feeling how she grew wetter, the sensation of her arousal only heightening his own need for her. He waited, observing her reactions, before sliding a finger inside her. The feeling of her warmth around his digit made him ache. The image was so hot that every dampness caused by the rain on his body dissipated; his body growing hot and desperate.

He pumped his finger in and out slowly, not going all the way in for fear of being too much for her. He gauged her response, before adding a second finger and placing his mouth on her clit again. With a curved L-shape, he began a motion that elicited delicious sounds from Lia. For a moment, he thought he would be unable to control himself and he would come in his pants.

“Noah,” she breathed out. She was letting herself go, and she looked so fucking beautiful, wild and raw for him. “Don’t stop.”

“Like this?” he repeated the motion, his voice husky and sending a vibration straight into Lia’s clit as he sought confirmation.

“Yes. Yes, like that. Don’t stop,” her breathing grew labored, and he felt fucking proud of himself.

Encouraged by her response, Noah continued the motion, his fingers moving in a way that promised to bring her a delicious orgasm. He could feel her body tensing, hear the raggedness of her breath as she approached climax. When he realized she was on the brink, he tightened his lips around her clit, sucking ever so gently, lavishing attention on that spot until, within moments, she came undone with a loud, delicious moan.

Forget his music. He wanted to hear that on repeat for the rest of his days.

Lia’s legs closed around Noah’s head, trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her. Noah held her legs, kissing her thighs softly as she caught her breath. He smiled against her skin, his heart swelling with love for her.

If it wasn’t for the pain he felt between his own legs, he would have stayed right there and continued licking her for hours. He would have time for that, he thought, and he would make it happen. But now he needed to be inside of her.

After cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand, Noah removed his last piece of clothing, standing naked before Lia for a second before climbing onto the bed. He situated himself between her legs, holding his weight on his knees and hands. His eyes softened as he bent forward to touch her face, checking in with her. “You okay?”

Are you joking?, she wanted to ask, but she was too overwhelmed to form any words. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of satisfaction, and her skin glowed with a layer of sweet sweat. Her eyes locked onto his with a welcomed vulnerability that tugged at Noah’s heart with madness when she smiled.

In that moment, he wondered if it was possible to fall even more in love with her. With every smile, every flicker of her eyelashes, Noah felt his love for her deepen. It was crazy; how this feeling had weathered storms and hurricanes and yet had finally reached this cathartic moment.

“Do we have a condom?” He asked.

Lia nodded impatiently, rolling over slightly to reach for one from the small table beside her bed. She rummaged through the drawer, her movements hurried as Noah finished undressing. Finding the packet, the last one, she handed it to Noah, who ripped it open with his teeth, unaware of what that little action did to her. He discarded the foil package on the floor beside the bed.

Lia watched him wide-eyed as he slid the condom over his cock. She had accommodated him inside of her before, but she was trembling again, aroused.

This time, with a clear vision and mind, she observed his length and took in the details; his pubic hair, his size, the pink of the tip, and the slickness that already covered it. He looked delicious and she couldn’t wait to taste him. However, Noah had different plans; he needed to be inside of her, connected to her in the most physically human way possible.

He covered her body with her, his October eyes reclaiming hers.

“Do you want me, Lia?” His voice was low, passionate.

She swallowed. She had an answer, always had it. It didn’t make the situation less thrilling. “I’ve wanted you all my life,” Lia replied earnestly, her hand caressing his face, her thumb sliding down his lower lip. “I mean it. I meant it. I’m sorry I was too scared to admit it.”

Noah exhaled softly, feeling the weight of her words and the depth of their shared history. He settled his mouth over hers in a kiss that was as soft as a rose petal. He restrained himself, sinking into her mouth slowly, mindful not to overwhelm her with the intensity boiling inside of him, in his veins.

He would have time to unleash every other part of him in time, explore her body, learn her soft spots, her limits. He would have all the time in the world to learn what things she liked and teach her the things he’d only ever wanted to experience with her. He would make all his wicked and dirty fantasies with her come true, as he would make hers.

As he settled between her legs, Lia’s thoughts were slightly clouded by the enticing feeling of Noah’s silver chain touching her clavicle and the idea that letting Noah in was going to sting. He was larger than any of her past experiences, and she didn’t remember if she had felt any pain the previous time they’d had sex. It didn’t matter. She was willing to take anything, for him, for both of them. They were not the same as when they first fell in love—Noah had grown into a man, his body more defined, marked by time and experience. And she was definitely not a girl anymore. She had stopped being one sooner than all her school friends, sooner than a kid should stop being one.

To calm herself, Lia placed her hands on his shoulders, exploring his freckles and his tattoos. The dim light in the room created shadows on his skin. It was a canvas she could never tire of admiring.

He lifted his eyes from below her bodies to look at her, a warning in his eyes. His tip touched her. Lia’s hands had slid to his back but moved quickly to grab his shoulders again.

Noah lowered his mouth to her, not to kiss her, but to breathe her in as he pushed inch by inch inside the girl—the woman he loved.

He entered her, their mouths still connected in an intimate O shape as they savored the sensation of being joined. Lia arched into him, a soft gasp escaping her lips that made Noah’s pulse race. This is home, he thought, feeling the snugness, the tightness and heat of her around him.

He wanted to be gentle with her. He knew his Lia was strong, that she could take anything he wanted to give her, but that wasn’t the point. That evening, he wanted to take it slow, make her aware of every second, of every inch of him, of the magic that bloomed every time they were together.

He was being a cheesy, sentimental soul, but he wanted it that way and no one was going to stop him. This was his best friend, the love of his life. He would have time to let the rottweiler out—sooner rather than later, he hoped. But that evening, it was all about feeling and connecting; it was about finally settling home.

Lia adjusted her legs, allowing him to settle deeper inside her. Her grasp on his shoulder loosened as she looked into his eyes, a mix of love and pining in her gaze.

“You’re here,” Lia said, her voice filled with wonder and adoration.

“I’m here,” Noah murmured in reply, his own voice thick with emotion. “With you.”

She kissed him, her hands roaming over his body, urging him on. Noah responded, starting to move with her, his hands teasing her nipples, eliciting moans from Lia as pleasure coursed through her.

As his hips thrusted into her, their breaths rose in unison. Noah’s movements, each thrust, was calculated. He watched Lia’s expressions closely, the way her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted with each surge of pleasure. Her moans were soft, almost musical, and they spurred him on, driving him to bring them both to the heights of ecstasy.

“Noah,” Lia gasped.

“Yes, baby.”

At the pet name, Lia tightened around him, and he had to stifle a growl, clenching his jaw so tightly that a muscle twitched and a vein pulsed on his forehead.

He could feel the tension building within him, a tight coil ready to spring. He was close, and he almost damned himself for having so little self-control. He wanted her to get there first. His fingers worked deftly, finding the perfect rhythm against her sensitive spot. Lia’s back arched, her body responding to his touch with fervor. She was on the brink, and he could see it in her eyes, in the way her breath hitched and her grip on his shoulder tightened.

But then he pulled back slightly, getting up on his knees for a moment, breathless, scared. He was not a teenager anymore, but Lia was making it very difficult for him to hold himself back.

He watched the point where their bodies connected, as if he couldn’t believe it was real.

“What is it?” Lia asked, her chest rising up and down.

“Fuck. I just—” Noah raked a hand through his hair, struggling to catch his breath. A layer of sweat covered his shoulders and chest. “I need a minute.”

He looked down at her, his eyes brimming with love. Then he shifted, moving her left leg to the side so he could lay next to her. Attempting to spoon her, he slid an arm underneath her leg to lift it and gain access to her entrance again. Lia wriggled a bit, wanting to see his face. Noah adjusted, allowing her to get comfortable. She lay on her back, and he settled on his side, lifting her leg higher with his arm hooked under her knee. As he entered her again, he watched her eyes widen with each inch of him.

One of Lia’s arms was bent next to her head, her hand gripping the covers. When Noah noticed her other hand moving down her stomach, he took over, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed her gently but insistently, observing her reaction and feeling her body respond to his touch.

He maintained the motion for a while, both his cock and his fingers working at the same time between her legs, his eyes fixed on her. She was a dream: hair spread on the pillow, eyes closed, lips parted, her body letting him in and out, in and out. He wanted this moment to last, the pleasure. With their faces close, he cradled her cheek. Lia’s big beautiful brown eyes opened and bore into his adoringly, as if for her no man could be more beautiful than him.

He’d never felt more connected to her than he did in that moment, their faces tilted on the pillows, soaking in each other’s pleasured faces. His hand slid up from her clit to her neck. He had no intention of choking her—not that night—, so he just rested his hand there, soaking in the image of Lia at his mercy. He felt Lia arching her neck a bit, as if inviting a light pressure that might heighten her pleasure. The day would come —he promised—, but today he refrained, choosing instead to break the few inches between them with a sloppy kiss. Their breaths mingled, and every touch, every movement, brought them closer to the edge. Noah’s cock moved with precision, drawing soft gasps and moans from Lia as she kept moving, seeking friction against his body.

He was mesmerized by her expressions, the way her eyes fluttered closed, and the way her lips parted with each exhale. The intensity of their connection in that moment was almost overwhelming. Lia’s body trembled beneath him, her pleasure building to a crescendo.

“I’m—” she breathed out, her words failing. If he looked good on stage, he looked better in bed, pounding into her. She had to close her eyes again.

Noah’s voice reached her softly.

“I’m here.”

“I want— God. Noah, I want you on top,” Lia gasped. She loved this position. It was new to her, and the precision of his cock inside her rubbed at her walls and touched her G-spot in a way that, together with the eye contact, was about to send her spiraling into an explosive orgasm. However, her neck was growing slightly strained, and she wanted to look into his eyes when he came.

“I won’t last long,” he warned, a note of concern in his voice.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him.

He nodded. Carefully, he shifted their positions, moving back on top of her. Their bodies fit together perfectly, like they were made for each other. He resumed his rhythm, increasing it if just a bit. The intimacy of their shared breath, their mouths nearly fused together, was another added layer of passion that promised to give him a release like he had never experienced before.

Lia’s nails dug into his skin as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. As Lia’s climax approached, Noah could feel it in the way she clenched around him and the sound of her breath hitching. He made his movements more urgent, his thrusts deeper and faster. Their moans mingled, filling the room with those and Lia’s cries. They were both so close, teetering on the edge of release.

Their mouths opened, moaning into each other as they finally came. Noah groaned with his teeth clenched, a hand on Lia’s hip, pressing her down into the mattress as he emptied himself into the condom, Lia crying out under him, her nails digging into his biceps.

The climax was explosive, a powerful release that left them both shaking and gasping for breath. Their bodies quivered together, riding out the intense waves of pleasure as their sweat mixed.

As they came down from the high, still entangled, Lia felt an overwhelming rush of emotions, and Noah noticed immediately, his expression shifting to one of concern as he asked if she was okay.

She didn’t answer, but it was obvious she wasn’t.

She was trying to hold back tears, a sob, even. Noah’s worried expression turned into one of confusion as he tried to pull away, but Lia’s hands on his back kept him pressed against her.

She felt raw. Her second orgasm, shared with him, hadn’t been just a physical release; it felt like a liberation from every secret, every ounce of pain and misery she’d carried, every lie she had told herself, every barrier she had put between her and Noah. She felt split open; exposed; finally free.

And it showed in the single tear that slid down the side of her face and that Noah caught with his thumb, his large hand settling on her cheek as he tried to get Lia to say something.

“Lia,” he whispered, still brushing at her cheek.

Her next words caught him by surprise. “I promise I’ll get better and I’ll take care of you. I won’t ever hurt you again. I swear.”

She wasn’t hurt.

She was okay.

His girl was okay.

She was just... emotional, her feelings too complex to define in that moment of ecstasy.

The joy that spread through him was even greater than the orgasm that had begun at the back of his spine and spread through his body until it released into the condom.

“Lia,” he said with a tender smile, as if her words amused him. “Lia,” he repeated, shaking his head, his loose strands of hair brushing against her forehead and cheeks as he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’ve always been taking care of me.” As soon as she started shaking her head, he moved his hand from her hair and placed a finger on her lips. “All that time you were hurting, I was hurting, too. It didn’t matter if you did something to hurt me. It was unintentional, and I couldn’t feel it because I was already feeling your pain. And trust me, there’s nothing worse than that.”

Lia’s eyes filled with a mix of relief and guilt as she processed his words. She stared at him, her expression a blend of sorrow and admiration. Her lips trembled slightly, and a deep sadness seemed to settle in her gaze, as if she were grappling with the weight of his words. She looked away momentarily, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, the burden of her own actions weighing heavily on her.

A trace of hesitation creeped into Noah’s eyes. He took a deep breath, his gaze softening but becoming more serious.

“Remember the day you came to see me at the hospital? You were... You were hurt,” he winced at the recollection of events, “and yet you came all the way from home to comfort me, to make sure I was okay just because I had some weird-ass flower-coughing fit.”

The memory was one she tried to avoid, too painful and persistent to erase. The events of that day had been too much, but Noah’s perspective provided her with a new understanding of her actions, different from how she had seen herself at the time.

“I want to be good to you,” she said, “make you happy the way you make me.”

Unable to contain his own emotions, he kissed her again, his smile radiant as he pressed his lips to hers.

“That won’t be hard,” he replied, his eyes sparkling, his heartbeat still settling from their shared orgasm, his dick softening inside of her. “You’ve been making me happy since you were six.”

“I’ve just been a dark cloud for the past few months,” she corrected him, a small frown creasing her brow. “But I won’t be anymore.”

She was resolute in her feelings. Noah brushed some stray hairs from her face and softened his stance.

“I know,” he reassured her. “You don’t have to promise me anything. In fact, fuck promises,” he bent down to kiss her hard, emphasizing how little he cared about that promise they made as kids, right after their first kiss.

Lia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until they were both breathless again. After a deep breath, she let her head fall on the pillow, savoring the weight of Noah’s body on top of her, his hands touching her face, his softening cock nestled between her legs, their bodies spent from the emotional and physical exertion.

“I’m not heavy, am I?” he asked, suddenly concerned about being on top of her.

“No, don’t move,” she replied, her voice tender as she kept a hold on him.

Noah kissed her jaw absentmindedly, allowing himself to sink into the pleasure and the comfort of being with her, the thunder rumbling outside, and the lingering scent of sex filling the room.

“The craving…” Lia began, her mind drifting back to earlier as her fingers played with his hair. “It was really intense. What if next time I’m not able to control it? What if you’re not there when it happens?”

Noah tightened his hold on her. “I’ll be there,” he assured. “In the case I’m not, you call me,” his gaze was determined, his expression stern. “But you will resist, because every time you do, you’re winning. You might not feel like it, but you’re making progress,” he traced the apple of her cheek with his knuckles. “One step at a time, Lia. We’ll get there.”

Even in that intimate moment, fully connected, he could see a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands, making sure her gaze met his.

“Lia, whatever you think about yourself, about what happened, it doesn’t matter. You raised yourself,” he said, his voice carrying a gravity that made her shiver. “There’s nothing braver than that. You had to sit through your childhood, carrying your mother’s traumas and issues. You sat there and you asked for her love and you didn’t get any. And yet, you carried yourself to the light. You did that. You.”

You carried yourself to the light. Lia repeated his words in her head. Her eyes examined his face, the bright look in his eyes as he uttered those encouraging words to her. She did, indeed, carry herself to the light. She finally did; the moment she called out to him when he was about to leave the room thirty minutes earlier.

She was wrapped in her light’s arms now.

Noah was her light.

“What happened in Chicago was just a moment of weakness,” he continued.

“But I could’ve—”

“Shh. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

“We’re allowed to be weak,” he said. “We just need to… let others know so that we don’t have to face things alone; so that we have someone to offer the support we need. From now on, Lia, you can’t keep anything from me. Whatever you feel, you need to tell me. You have to tell me, okay?”

She touched a sweaty strand of hair that fell on his face and nodded vigorously.

“Don’t let me do bad things,” she pleaded. “I’ll make myself worthy of you. I’ll be good.”

To lighten the mood, he flashed a wicked grin, clearly planning to tease her.

“Oh, you will be,” he squeezed her hip playfully. “Otherwise, there are a few things I might have to do to you, and…” he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Well, let’s save that conversation for another time. I don’t want to spoil this moment.”

She frowned, as if tempted to swat his chest, but a memory suddenly crossed her mind. Lowering her voice, she asked, “What about that thing you mentioned a few months ago about going celibate?”

For a moment, Noah looked confused. Then he remembered their trip to Franklin Canyon Reservoir.

“That was a joke,” he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. “Though, it wasn’t entirely far from the truth.”

“It was because of me? Be honest,” she pressed.

He huffed. He let his forehead rest against her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her skin and the moisturized she had applied after the shower.

“I guess? It just didn’t feel right,” he confessed, referring to every other time he’d sex. “Nothing ever felt right because it wasn’t with you.”

When he lifted his head, Lia was already gazing at him with a sweetness and delicacy that always disarmed him.

“But this,” he continued, emphasizing his point by moving his hips against hers, making her gasp, “this is as right as anything can ever be.”

She was momentarily lost in his words, struggling to grasp that this boy—this man—was truly hers and had always been. The handsome boy with almond-shaped brown eyes, who had taught her so much and never left her side, no matter what.

Gently, she traced his face with her fingers, caressing his chin and the corners of his lips.

“I’m so lucky…”

Basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, covered in sweat, his hair messy, exhausted but so happy, Noah looked… ethereal. He was a gift to her.

Unable to contain herself, she breathed out, “You’re so gorgeous, Noah.”

He blushed, a shy chuckle escaping him. To hide his embarrassment, he playfully nibbled at her earlobe, causing her to squirm beneath him.

“Keep being so sweet, and you might just get me hard again,” he teased in her ear.

Her only response was a series of giggles, and soon, he joined her, their laughter mingling in the soft light of the room as their limbs intertwined with renewed passion, promising to hold each other close today and tomorrow and every day thereafter.

— prev. chapter | chapter five 🌶️

author's note: thank you again to each of you who are reading and following this story. I don't take your comments and interactions lightly. They mean a lot to me and they make me so so happy! Just wanted to say that. I love you 🥰 💕

Taglist:

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @xcllnt | @bluestdai

#the inevitability of love at second sight #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah x lia #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction #zutto

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mysticficti0n · 1 year

Note

Hi B can you do something about if the TH boys were to walk-in while she was showering?? I feel it would be really funny

thank you ♥︎

BAHAHAHAHAHAH OMG YESSS

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

Shower intrusion

warnings- swearing and thats about it

words- 990

Tom

Tom was sat round in the living room watching some stupid film on tv until the idea of going for a nice relaxing shower came to his mind, he knew Y/n was up stairs, he could hear her fucking music rattling off the walls so its perfect timing to go in and clean off whatever was on him from the day. He climbed up the stairs and saw his roommates door wide open with the speaker on 100 volume, he shook his head as he grabbed a towel from his dresser and walked to go to the bathroom, his hand twisted the door knob and he walked in and hot steamy air hit his face "TOM GET OUT!" a high pitched yell echoed on the tiled walls "FUCKING HELL Y/N!" he shouted back standing stunned as Y/n reached for the shower curtain to wrap around her body "well don't just fucking stare!" the girl growled seeing Tom's eyes widen with realisation to what he'd done- we all know where his little eyes drifted... "shit I'm sorry I thought you were in your room!" he argued looking to the ceiling trying to not think of her naked in front of him "I'll go now erm... enjoy?" Tom had never moved quicker in his life to leave the bathroom. Why was he such an idiot? Tom found himself sat back down on the sofa flicking through channels before a wet-haired Y/n came and stood before him- fully dressed in her Pj's may I add- he gave her a shy smile as she crossed her arms staring down at the slouched position he was in "bathrooms free now perv"

Bill

"I need to go take this bloody make-up off!" Bill groaned wiping his black eyes and seeing a huge dark smudge draw itself along his hand "ugh!" leaving the group down stairs he went to his room searching for the make-up wipes "come on where are they?" he pulled open every draw he owned swiping his hands over every surface he could reach but nothing Then he thought to check Y/n's room, she always had wipes stocked somewhere, he knocked the door and had no response, Bill opened the door slightly and saw a darkness filled room but a light shone from her bathroom, with a happy sigh he trudged in walking straight to the bathroom not noticing the sound of the taps being twisted off "Y/n I need some- OH FUCK I'M SORRY!" right in front of his eyes was a unsuspecting Y/n hurriedly wrapping her towel around her "why didn't you say something when you were walking in!" she laughed seeing the singer cover his eyes and spin back round "fucking idiot, you can turn around now" slowly Bill turned back to the girl seeing her fully covered with a clip holding her hair back "erm.. I need make-up wipes if you have any" his voice was quieter than before making Y/n chuckle and point to next to her sink "thanks and sorry... I don't know why I didn't thing you'd be in the shower" the boy quickly grabbed the wipes and ran back down stairs to fill in his bandmates about his encounter before wiping off his make-up

Georg

Georg was sweating like shit on a hot day after being outside helping set up the barbecue with Tom who couldn't seem to understand how to screw legs onto the main barbecue drum which oddly enough ended with a shoe mark stamped into it, with heavy steps he came up the stairs taking his shirt off and already unbuckling his belt his free hand pushing the bathroom door open as soon as the smell of vanilla and lavender filled his nose he regretted everything he did "shit sorry sorry!" he chanted walking back out closing his eyes making him close to smacking his head off the door "Jesus Georg you gave me a heart attack!" the girl called with a laugh, while the bassist stood with a thought fighting his way to the front of his mind, he opened the door slightly again and the scent of his shampoo washed over him "are you using my fucking almond shampoo?!" he yelled getting a suspicious 'no' from the girl "fucking hell Y/n out of everyone in this bloody house I didn't think you'd be nicking my shampoo! I wondered why it ran out so fast!" "look it makes your hair so shiny and smooth I was getting jealous!" Georg couldn't stop a laugh from leaving his lips "I'll buy you your own next time but don't use any more!" he warned walking to his own room to write a reminder 'get the shampoo stealer her own shampoo'

Gustav

"god my shoulders hurt so bad" the drummer grumbled rubbing the sore spot on his right side "ah- I need a shower, hot water helps" he spoke to the group sat with him as he turned to leave the room he thought he remembered Y/n saying she was going for a shower but surely she'd be out now? He made his way to the bathroom and pushed the door open and herd the small voice of Y/n singing a tune then "GUSTAV LEAVE!" the boy was brought back as he attempted to run out the room but it turned out to be more of a stumble as he smacked into the wall outside "SORRY Y/N!" he yelled slamming the door shut while slapping himself in the face trying to forget the image on Y/n with suds falling down her body, how long was he looking? "why does nobody in this goddamn house knock doors before they enter?" the girl shouted with a grunt making him laugh and her angriness, he'd make it up to her- maybe buying a door lock? "Gustav I know you're still outside" he snickered walking back down stairs with a red tint across his face "oopsie" he giggled

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anonymouscomrade · 2 years

Text

so with the new version of Dwarf Fortress out on Steam, lots of people are getting into it for the first time. i still don't have this new version (yet) but here's some advice going off my playing the older versions on and off for like the last thirteen years. i'm not going to get into the extreme basics as there are plenty of full guides about that, this is just some personal advice from me:

especially for your first embark, pick a mundane-ass location with plenty of vegetation and trees and normal weather. don't fuck around with deserts or evil or glaciers or savage lands if you don't know what you're doing, you'll get killed by lack of water/the undead/the cold and absolutely nothing growing/giant wild animals, respectively. good-aligned regions are usually okay, if you want at least a little bit of the fantastic in your general vicinity. use the site finder to find a place with trees, vegetation, a river/stream/some other source of running water but NO AQUIFER, and multiple deep and shallow metals. personally my favorite embarks are the borders of forests and mountains, that way you have plenty of shit to mine AND plants to eat/brew, trees to chop down and make stuff with, etc. aquifers CAN be beneficial IF you know what you're doing (essentially they're a source of infinite fresh water if you can harness them, unless you're too close to the ocean and you get a saltwater aquifer, which sucks) but they can just as easily flood your entire fortress if you fuck up in even the slightest. i've been playing this game for over a decade and even i don't know what the fuck to do with aquifers so don't ask me

i personally prefer embarks with shallow soil. soil's super-easy to farm in (you CAN farm on stone but you have to have a way to irrigate it, and that can be a pain in the ass) but IMO most of your dwarves' living and working spaces should be carved out of stone, because soil can't be smoothed and therefore can't be engraved, and dwarves like moving around in smoothed areas and seeing high-quality engravings

your first priority when starting a fort is digging out a shelter for your dwarves. then make spaces for your first few workshops (stoneworking, carpenter, mechanic, and such) so you can get doors installed on your front entrance, and then immediately get your farms up and running. all dwarven crops can be grown indoors and plump helmets are a great choice of staple crop for literally any settlement since they can be eaten, cooked, OR brewed into dwarven wine. outdoor plants have to be grown on outdoor farm plots but they're still great for adding a little variety to your booze stocks and dwarves love that. take note of what kind of trees grow around your fortress, lots of them grow stuff that can be cooked (like walnuts or almonds) or pressed for oil (like olives) or brewed (almost any fruit tree) and you might not want to cut down those apple and pear trees right next to your fort's entrance when you can use them to make cider

NEVER BUILD ANYTHING OUT OF RAW STONE, WOOD, OR METAL. one raw stone can be used to build a single tile of wall or floor, a workshop, counts as one material for a bridge, etc AND is heavy as fuck, slowing down any dwarf carrying it to where it needs to go. FUCK THAT, have your masons cut that shit into BLOCKS. a raw stone will get you anywhere from 1-4 blocks, EACH of which can be used to make anything i mentioned earlier, AND won't weigh down your haulers or builders when they're carrying it. wood and metal can be cut into blocks too, if you need to make walls or floors or what have you out of those. HOWEVER, remember that blocks CAN'T be used in ANY crafting (that includes wooden blocks for burning in forges, making charcoal, etc), so once it's been cut into blocks, it's blocks FOREVER. you're gonna have a shitton of stone around almost any fort so making rock blocks is a good way to train new masons, but i'd only make wood or metal blocks if i needed those specifically

make some mugs early on, your dwarves like drinking out of them more than sticking their heads under the spigot. don't worry about individual bedrooms early on, you can absolutely get away with just sticking a bunch of beds in a big room at the beginning of your fort and digging out rooms later when you're more stable. don't build most workshops out in the open, dig out a room for each one and put in doors you can lock for each one. you'll thank me the first time one of your dwarves goes berserk after failing a strange mood and you can just lock them in there instead of letting them rampage around and beating your other dwarves to death

rock crafts will probably be your main trade good early on. most forts will have stone just laying around, absolutely fucking everywhere, so you might as well put it to use by carving little trinkets out of it and trading it for whatever the caravans bring

break into the caverns ASAP and then IMMEDIATELY seal that shit up. the easiest way to do this is digging an up/down stairway until the game lets you know you've found a cavern, then put a hatch cover on the stairs going immediately down into the cavern and lock it. you're not going to be able to handle hostile cavern creatures early on, but breaking into the caverns releases CAVE MOSS SPORES so ANY underground soil tile can start naturally growing moss or fungus. this is functionally identical to grass, so this means you'll be able to pasture your animals INSIDE, keeping them safe from any wild predators that might come along like wolverines or bears as well as keeping goblin raiding parties from using them for target practice

get a militia going sooner rather than later. a good array of traps and a locked door might keep the first couple bands of goblin invaders away, but larger armies of them are more likely to get through traps and keep you from sending your dwarves outdoors until they get bored and leave. were-beasts are not deterred by either, being capable of avoiding traps AND smashing down doors, and the bad guys only get tougher from there. check your migrants' skills, they always arrive as civilians so the guy with a title of "peasant" who isn't good at ANY labor might actually be pretty skilled with a mace. dwarves with only more esoteric skills like cheesemakers or gem setters are also good candidates for bolstering your military, once they get some training under their belt

IN GENERAL, for military purposes: wood/bone/leather <<<<<<<<<<<<<< silver <<<<<<<<<< copper < bronze < iron < steel < [REDACTED]. some exceptions: silver absolutely sucks for everything EXCEPT blunt weapons, where it suddenly becomes the best material in the game; pure copper is better than bronze for blunt weapons but bronze is better for edged weapons and far better for armor; bronze is only a hair below iron in terms of general military use. your greenest recruits who aren't fit for battle yet might actually benefit from wearing leather armor while they're training so it weighs them down less (at least until they get a few ranks of Armor User), but absolutely all of your actual fighters should be wearing metal helmets. [REDACTED] is the opposite of silver, it's the best metal in the game EXCEPT for blunt weapons which it absolutely sucks ass at. making steel is labor-intensive and time-consuming and requires specific materials and also kind of overkill since only dwarves can make it, but it's by far the best general-purpose military-grade metal you're going to possibly get reasonable quantities of

save metallic crossbow bolts for fights. wooden and bone bolts can't get through most armor but since wild animals aren't known for wearing armor, if you have hunters they will take prey down just fine without metal bolts. likewise, your marksmen should be training with wooden and bone bolts so they're not wasting metal ones on target dummies. yeah this means you'll need to constantly crank out wooden and bone bolts, pretty much

might add to these later if i think of anything else

#dwarf fortress

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ohsangwoosbat · 4 months

Text

Hold Me Gently;

Arno Dorian x Jacob Frye

[written by me]

——— ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ———

As the sky grew darker, and the frigid wind gushed up against the window panes; Arno sat in the living room, slowly growing more worried on where the hell his fiancé was.

Checking his treasured pocket-watch, he saw that it was almost 11:00PM… Jacob would’ve usually arrived at around an hour and a half ago- “Où est-il?”, he questioned in his native tongue; a tell-tail sign that he’s anxious… Arno was no stranger to losing someone he loves, and so the mere thought of Jacob being harmed, sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Sighing, he stood from his seat and folded his newspaper neatly, before walking over to the coatrack and grabbing his coat… He draped the hood over his head, and made his way out into the wintry night. With heavy steps, his boots collided with the concrete paving of the street; little clouds of steam erupting from his mouth as he breathed out a stressful sigh- He was afraid— they got into an argument that morning, and hadn’t seen each other since they both left for work straight after. The fight was about boundaries; how Arno constantly hovers over Jacob-

“Why do you need to know my whereabouts all the time?”, the British man questioned in an annoyed tone… “Why? Do I need a reason?”, he replied, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the shorter male. Jacob huffed out in disbelief- To him, it seemed like Arno didn’t trust him; whether it be his intelligence, or his loyalty… All his life, he had been deemed by others as “irresponsible” and “unintelligent”- He was constantly looked down on, as nobody expected much from him… So Arno wanting to know his every move all the time, made him feel as though his fiancé thought he’d be causing trouble or maybe even being unfaithful. The thought hurt him, deeper than any wounds he could be inflicted…

“Fine then- fuck off from here and see if I care!”, the taller male spat harshly, before grabbing his coat and heading out the front door. He hadn’t seen or heard from Jacob since then, and was scared he’d made him do something rash… Quickening his pace, he turned the corner sharply; Jacob’s usual route home. The streets were dull as melancholy filled the crisp air, fog clouding Arno’s vision… “je ne peux pas faire ça-“, he breathed out before grabbing ahold of the brick wall, scaling it with ease. He graced the rooftops; boots clinking against the tiles as he scanned around for any sign of Jacob… He was being eaten by this overwhelming feeling that something bad had happened— his fiancé’s mission got out of hand, and now he’s bleeding out somewhere-

And after about an hour of searching; his suspicions were confirmed when he spots a man slumped against a chimney. “Jacob!”, he bellowed, a sudden rush of energy shooting through the veins in his legs… Tears formed in the corners of his almond eyes, his hood flying off from impact of the strong wind. The younger man clutched at his side, blood staining his coat… “Oh christ-“, he squatted down next to him; eyes assessing the wound as Jacob breathed heavily. “A-Arno?”, he grunted while trying to move— a pair of large hands holding his actions firmly, yet still quite gently.

“Move your hand for me”, he instructed with icy lips, removing his tie. He wrapped it around Jacob’s waist tightly; trying his best to stop the blood flow… “I-I’m alright, luv”, the scruffy male exhaled, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense from the pain— he was yet again, trying not to worry his lover… “Alright?! do you think I’m dumb or something?!”, Arno replied with widened eyes, moving his hand to gently press against the younger man’s forehead. Despite the cold weather, Jacob was burning up— he’s getting a fever- Arno removed his hand as he stared into the chocolate orbs of his lover, tears blurring his vision a little… Jacobs eyes widened at the sight, his heart feeling like it was just stabbed with the hidden blades of an assassin- “No no, no! d-dont cry- I’ll be f-fine”, he tried reassuring the taller male, lips curving up ever-so-slightly in a desperate attempt to cover up his agony.

Although the sight of Jacob like this tore his heart to shreds; this wasn’t the time for emotions. He had to get Jacob home, fast. Arno had acquired the medical knowledge of sewing and stitching up wounds over the years, and he knew that it’s too risky to try find a doctor at this hour… so it was decided. Turning around slightly while still crouching, the French man slung his lovers arms over his shoulders— he opted for carrying him on his back… “A-Arny?”, Jacob questioned hazily; head slumped against the broad shoulder of Dorian. “shh… I’ve got you.”, he reassured, gripping onto the bottom of the small males thighs, standing… And with that, he swiftly glided over the rooftop tiles— careful not to slip.

——— ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ———

The fireplace crackles softly as it burns the oaken wood that was stacked inside it. Wind hitting vengefully against the steamed-over window panes; jaw clenched as he hissed… “fuck-“, he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut while Arno searched for the bullet with the correct tools, trying his best not to worsen the injury. Finally, he finds the metal pod, pulling it out and placing it down on the bedside table… The taller man sighed out in relief, hands still perfectly steady, despite his teetering emotional state. “good thing I’m engaged to a doc, huh?”, the Brit remarked playfully, but still out of breath; a small smile gracing Arno’s lips at the sound of his words… But his smile soon faded, turning into a look of hesitation. “Okay, this is the worst part…”, he winced down at Jacob, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. Even knowing the agony he was about to cause, he knew he had to clean the wound-

“Don’t worry, I-I can handle it- fuck!”, eyes instinctively squeezing shut, Jacob groaned out— every new wipe of the whiskey causing a sharp pain in his lower abdomen… A string of curse words slurred amidst the crackling flame, but Arno continued nevertheless… He scoffed mockingly, pressing the alcohol-soaked wipe harder against the bruised skin. “Oh? handle it, you say…”, he smirked, finding Jacobs fake confidence highly amusing… A huff erupting from the Brits chapped lips; eyebrows knitting together with a pout. “Oh, fuck off mate-“, he hissed, wiggling a little under Arnos hands— having had enough of this alcoholic torment.

Smiling softly to himself, Arno felt extremely relieved that he was able to find his fiancé… Jacob caught glimpse of that smile, while peaking one eye open; the sight more potent than any drug- The way his soft lips curved ever-so-slightly at the corners— how his stubbled face, managed to look so handsome even with the severe lack of sleep he gets… Before he could even stop himself, the smaller male uttered the words he was thinking in that moment-

“You’re beautiful”, his voice was raspy; partly from his injury, and partly from the sheer amount of nicotine he consumed… The words caught Arno completely off-guard, his face dusting a pale shade of rose pink… “excuse me?”, he questioned, as if he was hallucinating the first time. Jacob’s eyes widened at his own words, did he really just say that out loud? “i uh, well i um-“ he stumbled to explain his sudden compliment, sounding like a babbling fool. He was a natural flirt, but sometimes he’s so taken aback by the sheer beauty held by the man before him, that he can’t help but stumble like a schoolboy—embarrassing, really..

Suddenly, the memories of this morning made their way back into the shorter man’s head; the air growing tense and cold, despite the fire in front of them. He still felt like he wasn’t trusted, like he’s a child whom needs supervision.. It’s how his father treated him, albeit being mostly absent, and his sister has treated him for as long as he can remember. Eyes darkening, he averted his gaze from his lover, reaching out for the whiskey bottle that Arno had just used to disinfect his wound. The french man noticed this, a pang sounding in his heart as he stared upon his beloved, his usually bubbly energy nowhere to be seen in this moment..

“Why do you not trust me? Why does nobody ever believe in me?..” the words escaped Frye’s lips, quiet and somber; Arno had never seen Jacob like this before, the sight saddening him as his eyes widened. “What on earth do you mean?! of course i trust and believe in you.. why would you think otherwise?”, he questioned in confusion, eyebrows furrowed upset. The brit finally looked up into his dark brown orbs, tears pricking at the corners of his own.

“Evie never trusted me, nobody has.. always needed to know where i was and what i was doing, so i don’t fuck up the mission-“ he begin, taking another swig of the alcohol grasped in his shaky hand. “what? do you think i’m gonna screw up and get someone killed? or do you perhaps think i’m an unfaithful hog?”

as soon as these words left his chapped lips, the taller males eyes softened, tears forming in them and threatening to fall down his stubbled cheeks. He got hit with the sad realisation that the one he loves so dearly, had bottled up all his fears, all his sadness and all his questions, just to avoid burdening others— he had finally exploded this morning; his heart couldn’t hold anymore and it came pouring out. And what did Dorian do? He told him to fuck off, then slammed the door in his face- Oh, how his heart ached in this moment..

“Bon Dieu, no-!” he exclaimed with a shaky voice, reaching his cold hand up to his lovers cheek to stroke it gently, wiping the hot tear that had slipped from his eyes. Jacob’s cheek was warm against his icy touch, but the smaller didn’t mind. “I only want to know your whereabouts all the time, cause of nightmarish situations like today- what if i couldn’t find you?! what if i got there too late?!”, streams of hurt flowed down to his chin, “i- i don’t know what i’d do with myself…” voice barely coming to a whisper at that point, he looked down and his other hand which was in his lap.

As if on reflex, Frye put down the bottle in his hand, instantly grabbing the man in front of him by each side of his face. Due to his past events and experiences with others, it had never crossed his mind that Arno Dorian, his stern and professional fiancé, would be scared of losing him. “Shhh, hey? look at me, luv” his voice was soft and low, like dark chocolate melting over all anxiety that lingered in the air around them. Hesitantly, the taller of the two met his gaze, vision blurred while he bathed in the warmth of his beloved’s smile; plump lips chapped, yet still so welcoming.

“I’m sorry i made you think otherwise..” he hiccuped, cupping his hand over the calloused on on his right cheek, stroking it with his thumb. His eyes, apologetic and soft, making the organ in Jacob’s chest ache horribly. Without thinking, he leaned forward, grasping soft lips into his own. It was as if this were the only way he could explain that it’s truly okay, and his thoughts were confirmed as he felt Arno melt into the kiss.

Parting lips, their breath fanned against each others faces as their noses remained touching— “you won’t lose me, darling”, he smiled softly, “i’ll make sure of it.”

~the end~

(thank u for reading♡)

#assassin's creed #arno dorian #jacob frye #french frye #french frye oneshot #they make me so squishy #i love them so dearly #sorry if this sucks i tried ;-;

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tai-janai · 7 months

Text

Reunite

Path 6: Truth

(Chapter Select)

You are given a moment to collect yourself before the Voice speaks.

Voice of the Hero:

Sorry.

"Why be sorry? Everything's where it should be."

Voice of the Hero:

I still don't like stabbing you.

You smile. A reasonable sentiment, but kind nonetheless.

You look around at the new, familiar cabin. This time it is not wood. Solid, smooth, stone bricks are the walls, and the floor is pristine white tile. There are metal bars over every window. The "table" that holds the blade looks more like a repurposed cage. Though everything is bright and quite clean, the air is damp and musty.

Voice of the Hero:

O...kay, it's probably the nicest one we've seen. But it really feels like a jail this time. That's... probably not a good sign, is it?

Voice of the Hero:

Oh, and I feel better this time. I'm still definitely with that other guy, but I'm way less aware of every piece of me. I can actually think again.

You nod assuredly. You'll need all the brainpower you can get if you're going to get the answers you're looking for.

Voice of the Hero:

Someone's got a pep in his step.

You take the shadow of the blade from the cage-like table. You shift it in your grasp, and wonder how it seems to evade your vision while still being something.

You walk toward the heavy wooden door and pull it open.

The stairs down are once again not stairs. A warped indent has been made into inclined wood slabs right down the middle. The walls and ceiling are solid metal. It isn't the worst, though. At least you can see a light at the bottom. It only puts you off because it is red.

You reach the bottom, and step into the red room. It is... chains. Everywhere you look, varying in size and connected to nothing, and all bathed in the red light that emits from a barred window on the far wall. Everything is sinister, dark, and cold.

Voice of the Hero:

Does this make things easier..?

A bright, almond-shaped eye blinks open at you, a pitch black pupil fixed on your figure. Something at the other end of the room is watching you. Then, another eye opens. And another.

There are five slanted eyes on a face that can be described as long and tapered. Then eyes that aren't connected to anything open around it, forming the shape of some sort of halo around the creature's head. Then, it rises.

It is unlike any other; serpentine and limbless. A long, scaled body is adorned with layers of chains and shackles that clatter and screech as it moves. It seems to have no end, the rest of it remains hidden under the piles of chains.

With an inclining of its head, and a dilation of many pupils, it speaks to you. Guarded, hesitant, and unsure, but clearly powerful.

Are you ready to answer my questions?

You shiver. It seems so above questions and answers.

Voice of the Hero:

D-Do you see an end to it anywhere?

Is that another?

The Hero:

Y-Yeah. If you wouldn't mind- Oh.

You blink, and find that you and the Other have separated once again. Completely painlessly, entirely unnoticeable.

The Hero:

That was weird...

Before you can say anything, you feel a set of chains wrap around your feet. With a grunt, you are hoisted into the air, dangling upside-down. The echo has slipped from your hold, joining the sounds of metal as it clatters to the floor.

Every chain in the room rustles and shifts as the Being slithers closer to you threateningly. Its ring of eyes spins about its head, then closes in around you, making you dizzy. Everything aches.

Why aren't you aggressive? Why was the one you brought inside of you?

The Hero:

No, please, let him go!

The Being's head only barely moves, but half of the eyes surrounding you flies to him in an instant, interrogative.

Why are you defending him? Do you know what he's done? Are you in on it?

The Hero:

O-One question at a time! I know what he's done, and it's nothing! I'm not "in on" anything, but I was in him.

In a flash, the chains around your ankles shift you. With some slack, more links are wrapped around the Other, too. Underneath their layer, there are the scales of the creature's long body, still obscured and still unending.

And to think you were like me. I should know by now that nothing in this place can be trusted.

Blood is rushing to your head, and you start to feel sick. It hurts.

Are you ready to give me answers, you freak? I can make things much worse for you.

You feel helpless in its grasp, eyed from every angle and unable to provide what it is so desperate for. Even if you knew anything, your mind is swimming too much to think. Muddled tears find themselves in your eyes, but not for yourself. You know this creature is pained, and that pain fuels its cynicism. It hurts.

You hear, but can't see, the other you fighting irrationally against the chains holding him.

The Hero:

Stop, stop!

The creature is monstrous, horrid, and cold. The ache around your ankles and the loss of blood makes your legs feel numb. It hurts. Everything hurts.

Your heart wants to comfort it. Your eyes shut, and tears fall from them, sliding down your forehead.

...What are you doing?

You extend your arms to the Being. You look past the eyes swarming your head into the wide ones on its scaly face. It is terrifying, and you want to hold it, to console it. You hurt. It hurts, too.

"I'm sorry. You must be... terrified."

It recoils at your sentiment. Chains crackle, and the light flickers.

"I'm sorry. I know you all hate me, but I don't know why. I don't know anything. I don't. I'm sorry."

The spinning of the inquisitive eyes slows. They are observing you closely. Your skin crawls; you can't stand being seen. Your eyes shut again, and you hide behind your trembling hands.

Gradually, you are lowered, back to the ground. Your ankles ache as the chains release them, laying you down. You can only wait for the blood warming your head to disperse back into your numb limbs.

The pain and suffering from all these creatures grips you. You want to help them, but their hate for you is overwhelming. Why do they hate you? Why are you of all things responsible for their pain?

You hear the Other beg the creature. It falls on deaf ears.

The Hero:

Let me go, please.

What is this?

The creature is in disbelief. You can't bring yourself to look at it. You, too, want answers. But nothing can give them to you. Not yet.

What are you doing?

"I'm sorry."

You can't muster up anything else. All you know is the ache in what you see before you.

That doesn't answer me.

A scaly tail wraps around your middle, a part of its body not draped in chains. You are brought to your feet and forced to stand and face it.

You have to know something. You put me here.

You look up at it. Its many eyes are contorted with raged confusion.

What are you hiding? This can't be it! There has to be something! You left me here for an eternity!

Your face is wet with tears. You grab for the scaly body that emerged from nowhere and continues on to nowhere. You want to hold it. You melt in its pain.

Stop! You're being pathetic!? How could you have- ...

The Hero:

He didn't.

He didn't. I know he didn't, I don't care! Why am I here!?

Its voice shakes the room. Every chain rattles. It is quiet for some time after, as everything stills.

"You deserve answers. I'm sorry."

Quit... Quit your apologizing. You are... absolutely pitiful.

The limb around your body releases you slowly, ensuring you stay on your feet. The light overhead is less red, and has become more of a light pink.

There were probably better ways to do this on my end, too.

You shake your head, wiping your wet face.

"You have every right to be infuriated. I don't know what happened to you, but I know I'd want me dead, too."

There is the sound of chains moving and scraping, and the Being slithers towards you. It is enormous; its head is as long as your arm, and you probably couldn't wrap your arms around the entirety of its neck if you tried. Five wide, angled eyes look at you closely. The eyes that were floating around you are now drifting in a circle above the two of you.

With the light less of a harsh color, you can admire the royal purple and emerald green of the creature's scales. Chains obscure them, but you can't help but find it beautiful.

Your voice is wet and thick with your choking sobs.

"I have no answers for you. I want to find them, too. Will you let me help you look for them?"

The Being tilts its head in disbelief.

You?

From your side, still absolutely swamped by chains, the other you speaks up.

The Hero:

I know he doesn't look it now, but he can really be quite the card.

Even if you aren't what put me here. You've come into this dungeon and start sobbing. Excuse me if I'm not keen on working with you.

"You don't have to get along with me, but, please. Let me free you."

The Being's next question is not interrogative, but genuine, almost concerned.

What are you?

You look up at it, still unable to answer. It is still only a couple feet away from you. The eyes on its face close, and the floating ones blink out of existence.

You outstretch your arm, and hear the rustling of feathers. They are... everywhere. Diving between rows of chains, flurrying everywhere throughout the room, even behind you. There seems to be a pattern, one continuous body, obscured, but the feathers float in on and confine it to the other side of the room. There are loud clashes as the thick clasps come undone and crash into each other.

The only chains left behind in the room is one long, thick one. Everything else was, apparently, part of the Being.

Feathers dissipate behind a creature shaped like you. It wobbles on its legs, unused to them. It rolls its shoulders. It hasn't had limbs in quite some time. You walk to it, also unsteady.

The Skeptic:

Truth and answers are pretty different matters, aren't they?

Your shoulders relax as you sigh.

Everything about this one is sharp. Its feathers are pointed, and its scales are angled in a protective pattern. Its eyes still hold a sense of inquisition. It tilts its head.

The Skeptic:

Why do you look like me?

"Do I look like you? Or do you look like me?"

The Skeptic:

Well there's more of us than there is of you. That implies that you look like us, but I guess it doesn't confirm it.

You are happy that the Being has returned to "normal," but you are pained at the thought of continuing.

The Skeptic:

So, we leaving this place or what?

You hang your head with a small, sad smile.

In a flash, the new one's eyes go wide and its claws grip you. You are pulled behind it as its wings expand. It takes a defensive pose.

The other you has walked up behind where you were, having retrieved the blade's echo. The new one was protecting you from what comes next.

The Skeptic:

What are you doing?

The Other gestures vaguely.

The Hero:

Okay. Yeah, this looks bad, now that I think about it.

You place a reassuring hand on the new one's shoulder. It flinches under you. With a double take, it looks back at you.

"It's okay."

The Skeptic:

What? He's going to... Ah.

With a smidge of embarrassment, it lowers its guard.

The Skeptic:

So... That's how you got here. You did just show up upstairs. I'm guessing you don't know what's outside the cabin.

The Hero:

We can go find out.

He smiles as the new one squints at him suspiciously.

The Skeptic:

You don't go with him?

The Hero:

Uhh, yes and no.

The Skeptic:

That's not an answer.

You droop, exhausted.

The Hero:

That's as much the truth as it is! Look, I'll explain everything once I slay him, okay? There are others that need to be freed.

The Skeptic:

Others...

With that, he backs off, lost in his own mind. The Other sighs and steps forward.

The Skeptic:

So, you just let him kill you?

"I've done it a lot. I'm used to it by now."

A look of pity flashes across its face.

The Skeptic:

If you're sure.

The Hero:

May I continue, sir?

They glare at each other.

The Skeptic:

Only if you can do it correctly.

The other you groans, and raises the blade. You tense. You are still afraid of it.

The knife is buried in your heart. He does it swiftly, to prove a point. Though the aggression is not towards you, it seeps into your wound.

It is quiet, and everything goes dark.

#stp #stp voices #voice of the hero #slay the princess #stp fanart #stp fanfic #fanfic #yummy yummy implied religious imagery #chews on him #who him?#uhh all of the above

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fayes-fics · 2 years

Text

Pas Quotidien

Pairing: Benedict Bridgeton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader (past & implied), Modern AU.

Summary: Modern AU. At 4am all sorts of things can arise…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, oral sex (m to f), flirting, bit of sexual tension, spot of brotherly competition, allusion to threesome.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Authors note: It's the baker Benedict AU no one asked for! This all started because of a hilarious typo with a mutual, so this is dedicated to them, ironic given they don’t eat bread. Unbetaed. I’m sure this is riddled with baking inaccuracies. Everything I learned about bread, is from Bake Off. Also yeah I know it’s not remotely sanitary. They’ll disinfect when they are done. Listen it’s fic, just go with it. Also yes the title is a play on the bakery chain Le Pain Quotidien. Well done for spotting.

It’s 4 am, and the bakery shines like a cosy beacon on this rainy night—the pavement outside glittering in the raindrops and the windows steamed from baking inside.

You push open the jaunty-coloured wood-framed glass door, the little brass bell above it tinkling delightfully as you do so. A warm blast of air bathed in the scent of baked delights greets you, and it’s like a soothing embrace around your chilled body.

He looks up, surprised to see you, or indeed anyone, at this hour as he stands towards the back of the space behind a huge marble counter, kneading dough.

“Ben,” you greet, shucking your raincoat. His responding smile makes your stomach flip just a little. It really shouldn't; he's just an acquaintance.

“What in the hell are you doing here at… 4:13 am,” he queries good-natured, glancing at the wall clock.

“Passing by on my way home,” you grin; some decadent carbs seem like the perfect thing to round off your late girls' night out.

“I should bolt that damn door to stop drunken reprobates wandering into my shop before I open at seven,” he jibes lightly.

“Too late now, my friend,” you giggle and swipe a macaron from the display case, hopping up to sit on the serving counter.

“Oi! That’ll be two pounds, please. And stop dirtying my serving space, if you don’t mind,” he chides affectionately.

“I’ll get the Dettol out myself,” you shoot back, not moving, and he rolls his eyes, exasperated.

You groan as you take a bite of the macaron, which melts in your mouth, a sugary almond explosion with tart raspberry filling.

“Fuck me, that's so good,” your praise muffled around the treat.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” he chuckles and keeps kneading.

“You should. I’d marry this macaron; I’d have its bloody babies,” you declare, still slightly tipsy, finishing it with a second bite.

“But you just ate your husband,” his amiable laugh echoes on the pristine white subway-tiled walls.

“I'm a black widow baby,” you sing the line probably tunelessly, but he seems to enjoy it nonetheless.

“Dangerous,” he shoots back, and something in his crooked smile makes the room temperature creep a little higher.

“Maybe…” you simper and gesture for him to continue working, hopping down on the staff side and wandering closer.

Your eyes are drawn to him. Watching him work. A dusting of flour on his forearms, a streak on his cheek. A black apron, almost white with flour, over a fitted T-shirt. You try not to stare at his arms as they flex, but you mostly fail. Lots of kneading makes for very shapely arms, apparently.

“What are you making?” you inquire, genuinely interested.

“Pain de Campagne,” he supplies, the French accent dripping perfectly from his tongue. A sign of those months spent chez Paris at patisserie school. And definitely not remotely attractive, No, not at all.

“Looks like hard work,” you offer casually.

“Always worth it in the end,” he assures with a wink, an errant curl flopping onto his forehead as he pushes on the dough. Oh, that’s not helping.

“I couldn’t do that,” you proclaim.

“Yes, you could; it’s not difficult; it’s just a technique. I can teach you,” he shrugs.

“Haha,” you deadpan.

“I mean it. Apron’s hanging over there; the sink is there to wash up thoroughly,” he gestures around him.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope,” he responds, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

“Fine,” you throw your hands up, deciding this could be fun. You’ve certainly never done baking at this time of night (or morning, depending on your perspective) before.

Washed and aproned up, you move closer, and he stops kneading to turn towards you.

“Well, you’ll need to remove your jewellery if you don’t want it ruined,” he laughs. “Also, roll up your sleeves. Then rewash your hands,” he lectures.

“Okay, okay, Mr Bossy,” you grouse.

There’s that rich chuckle again, the one that seems to slide down your spine like honey. Instead of dwelling on it, you do as asked, leaving your rings by the sink.

“That’s better,” he smiles as you return to his side, and your shoulder bumps his arm with a smirk.

Flouring up is his next instruction, and you do so, ensuring your hands and wrists are well powdered.

“Okay, so stand here,” he says, stepping back, and you slide into the spot he was just standing in. “Alright, now grab that dough,” he nods.

You do so, your finger sinking into it. It’s pillowy light.

“Oh my god, it’s so squishy!” you exclaim, and he can’t help his guffaw at your outburst.

“Yes, very apt. Squishy indeed. That’s the gluten; it’s what makes the bread rise,” and suddenly, he is standing right behind you.

Two arms encircle you and cover your hands. They are warm, dry with flour, and so large you can no longer see your own. You try not to stare at the map of veins stretched over tendons as they curl around yours, guiding your movements.

“Now the key is to stretch the dough out and really get it aerated,” his voice is calming and patient but so close to your ear like that is, well, slightly throwing you for a loop.

As he guides your hands through vigorous moves, you feel his forearms over yours and his elbows bracketing your body. It seems so, well, there’s no other word for it; it’s intimate. His chin almost rests on your shoulder as he walks you through the motions. Your biceps begin to ache as the work continues, and you have a newfound admiration for what it takes to run a successful little bakery like this. You can’t imagine getting up at 2 am and doing this every day. You also really understand his arms now.

“I think it’s there now,” he remarks quietly, stilling your movements, his words soft beside your ear. You can feel his body solid behind you, not quite touching but so close you can feel the heat radiating on the back of your knees and shoulder blades.

“Are you sure?” you check, and you’re honestly not sure what that question refers to.

“Mmm hmm,” he hums, and it feels like it vibrates through you.

“What comes next?” you don’t mean it to be a whisper, but it is.

“Second proving,” he answers, and somehow it sounds sexy. “It’s got to rise some more. Get even squishier,” he adds with a wry smile that you see out of the corner of your eye.

“Are you making fun of me, Mr Bridgerton?” you narrow your eyes and lean back against him as if giving him a slight body check.

That was a mistake. He seems to curl around you even more. Heat seeping through the thin layers between you, the air feels even more humid as a trickle of perspiration runs down from your hairline over your temple. You see his eyes track the movement sideways on.

“You've not done it right if you’re not just a little sweaty,” his voice pitched low, and suddenly it’s not the only part of your body that feels damp.

“Applicable to so many things,” you assert, unmistakable in your intent, rocking back just a fraction.

“Very true,” he opines. Then he guides your hands down onto the cold marble on either side of the large mass of dough. “This always cools me down,” he murmurs, his fingers sinking between yours and pressing onto the smooth surface.

“Delightfully refreshing,” you agree; your pulse is hammering as he seems to lean you further over the counter. The press of his body entirely wanted.

“Yes, it feels good on your skin,” he mumbles, and there is a flurry of movement as he expertly picks up the dough and throws it aside on the long wide surface. Then his hands are back on yours, leaning and pushing you forward until your elbow bends and your forearms rest on the cool marble.

“Is that helping?” He whispers, and now the message is blatant.

“I still feel too hot,” you reply softly, biting your lip and shooting him your best flirtatious sideways glance.

“Then we will have to get more of your skin on this surface,” he lectures, and the hands move from covering yours to your waist, where the apron strings are tied around your front. You stutter his name as he expertly plucks the bow open.

“Tell me to stop,” he goads as the strings fall away, tugging them from around your sides. You clamp down on your lip, not wanting to make a single noise in protest.

There is a gentle snag on the underside of your chin as he lifts the apron up and around your head, then lets it fall to the floor as he drags you back upright against his body. His name is on your lips again, breathy and anticipatory. Almost disbelieving this is happening.

“Lock. The. Door,” he rumbles, his breath hot in your ear. Each word is a sentence that sets something alight in your veins even as he steps away.

You scurry around the counter and bustle to the front door flicking the deadbolt. Behind, you hear him putting the dough into the large proving drawer and then the lights suddenly flick off, plunging the room into atmospheric shadows. All you can hear is the pitter-patter of rain on the street outside and the occasional swish of puddles under tyres as the odd car, mostly Ubers, drive by.

“Get back over here,” he growls, and your knees want to give way.

Are you really going to do this? Let this delicious man lay you out on his marble worktop and do whatever he wants. There’s a screaming chorus of ‘hell yes’ in your mind as you do your best to walk with a seductive swing in your hips silhouetted by the window behind you. He has taken off his apron and now stands in a fitted t-shirt and jeans. Even in this low light, he looks so good clothed you almost don’t care if you don’t see him naked. Almost.

You squeak slightly as large hands grab your waist and pull you into him roughly, looking at each other eye-to-eye for the first time. It’s quite breathtaking how beautiful he is this close up.

“We have 45 minutes until we can make loaves.” The almost pun is not lost on you. “How would you like to fill that time?” he buzzes.

“What do you suggest?” your voice cracks, slightly hypnotised by his stare.

A corner of tongue peaks out of his mouth, and you track it across his bottom lip, fascinated by the slick trail it leaves behind that glimmers in the streak of the streetlamp from outside.

“I suggest we cool your naked skin on this nice balmy surface and see what happens from there,” it's velvet soft and so rich you want to bathe in his voice.

“Okay…” you mutter, almost swaying now.

You watch large floury hands dust white trails onto your black shirt, popping each button. Your own breathing sounds too loud. Just as the last one relents, and your blouse hangs open a fraction, both hands move, cupping your jaw and tilting your head as his mouth descends. The slightly grainy texture of the flour on his fingertips against your skin adds a frisson.

The first brush of his lips on yours is electric. Tentative at first, it soon grows, heatedly mashing together in waves of intensity, mouths peaking open, and tongues touching. His hands move again, this time tugging your top from your shoulders and down your arms until it flutters to the ground. Just in your bra and jeans, you band your arms around his neck, sinking tighter into the embrace, revelling in the feel of those dusty hands sweeping down over the dip of your back. Your lips meet over and over.

He tastes of sweet baked goods - like almond croissants and madeleines - probably a batch he baked before you came in, and you sag against him wanting to swallow him and chase more.

“Ben…” you gasp into his mouth as a hand ventures inside the back of your jeans and grabs the bare flesh of your bottom.

“Get naked,” he commands softly “you feel entirely too overheated in all this clothing,” he teases.

You chuckle; it’s only jeans and underwear you have left at this point. But then, the bakery is very warm, and all that dough work was very athletic. You fumble with your button and zip as his hand kneads your bottom with that firm motion he used on the dough. It feels wonderful, his lips trailing down your neck, his other hand helping peel your jeans over your hips. They hit the floor, and then you are being lifted off the ground and placed onto the marble, the cold, smooth surface making you squeak as it touches your bottom.

“Feeling cooler already?” he asks, a lopsided grin tugging at his handsome face as his hands round your knees and drag them apart, stepping between, the metal fastener on the hip of his jeans catching the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You nod in response as he moves in for another fiery kiss, your mouths at the same height now. His fingers curl around the back of your knees, pulling your legs up and wide as your hands sink into his hair, loving the baritone noise he makes over your tongue as you pull lightly on the thick chestnut strands. Those large hands slowly make their way up your thighs, caressing your skin, warm powdery tips setting your skin afire. As you kiss, they slide around your hips and up your back, winding delicate patterns until they reach the clasp of your bra.

“You still seem too warm to me,” his tone velvet smooth, “better take this off just to be safe,” he adds seductively and expertly flicks the hooks undone. He gently pulls the straps off your shoulders, and you can't help but giggle over his lips as he raises an eyebrow and comically flicks the bra away. It sails into the air, landing god knows where.

“Much better,” he hums sensually, his lips back on yours, bodies pressed together, the slightly bobbled fibres of his top catching your nipples.

“Take this off,” you implore between kisses, tugging at his t-shirt. He smirks and half-steps back, whipping it off and throwing it to the floor.

“Baking does wonders for the body,” you sigh, trailing a finger down the divot between his defined abdominal muscles as he huffs a laugh at your statement.

Then there is no talking for a while as he takes your hand from his torso, kisses your knuckles chastely, then runs his tongue obscenely down to your fingertips, drawing all of them into his mouth as you stare wide-eyed, feeling the strength of suction on each digit, the lathe of his tongue. It's a blatant preview of what is to come, and you can’t stop your breath from becoming uneven.

Your fingers fall from his mouth with a wet smack, and he is leaning in, driving your whole back onto the cold marble; he grabs your feet and places them wide apart on the countertop, your toes curling over the edge.

He is staring down at you, a heavy gaze cataloguing everything from your kiss-dampened lips to your lacy underwear. With your legs spread so wide, you know he can see your arousal, can smell it in the air. The remnants of flour tickle your bottom as you curve your back upwards, looking at him entreatingly just to touch you somewhere, anywhere.

“Please, Ben…” you murmur, and a trace of a smile ghosts the corner of his mouth. He leans right over you but doesn't make contact, breathing warm air over your collarbone, down over your left nipple and across to your right, pebbling painfully at just the wisp of sensation.

“Are you feeling colder yet?” his voice is deadly, gravelly and dark, skittering over your ribs.

“No…,” you admit, “Im feeling much hotter.” Your body flushed with arousal and anticipation.

“Hmm, what a shame,” he offers in mock sympathy. “I think the only remedy may be to remove these….” you gasp as his hand covers your underwear, and it’s so large that, as his fingers hook into the top of the material, the heel of his palm bearing down onto your clit, which he grinds a little for good measure.

Before you know it, he tilts your hips and drags the knickers away from your body, down your legs. You now lay utterly naked, exposed and almost shivering with desire, the hot steamy air from the ovens contrasting wonderfully with the chilly marble under your back.

Now he runs his nose over your skin as he skirts lower, inhaling almost obscenely, scenting your body. There's no mistaking the aroma in the air now, and he seems feral for it, his pupils blown wide as he tilts his head to look up at you.

“Let hope you locked that door really well,” he banters and then you almost scream as he suddenly moves lower and ploughs his tongue roughly into your slit, groaning as he does so.

“Holy shit Ben,” you cry out and throw your head back; the only thing you can see now is the steamed window, upside down, rivulets of rainwater and condensation streaking like trails of golden thread under the yellow lamplight outside.

The prideful noise he makes at your expletive just ratchets you higher, and you know you are leaking onto his chin now. He sucks forcefully on your clit, his tongue rolling a wave that makes your toes curl harder around the counter edge and your fingernails scramble for purchase on the marble. You move one hand between your legs and grab his hair, scraping against his scalp, tugging, making him snarl.

Then it’s a heady swirl of sensation as he expertly transports your body and mind away from the frisson of fear about passersby seeing this debauched tableau, should they linger on the pavement outside. To somewhere routed purely in your body and the way he conducts it like a symphony with his lips and tongue, one arm banded strong around your thigh, the other spidering up to pinch and tease your nipple. You know the whimpering noises you make are echoing loudly up the walls, but you cannot stop yourself.

“Come for me,” he pants desperately; just as a long slender finger nudges you open and strokes gently inside you, you see stars.

“Don’t stop Ben, oh god, please, don’t stop,” you chant, feeling yourself spiralling higher, his tongue lathing at just the right rhythm to make your eyes roll back, just the right amount of suction to make your skin feel hot and tight, ready to burst.

He dangles you over the precipice for a few seconds, then, with an edge of his teeth, takes you over. Your body goes stiff, and he holds you down forcefully as you bear down against his face and writhe, staccato breathy cries echoing up the walls as you clench hard around his finger and blood pounds in your ears.

For a moment, you just lay there whimpering as he gently caresses your belly with gossamer fingers and delicately kisses your inner thighs.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale, “that was…” you trail off breathily, unable to form a sentence, and he huffs a warm bemused breath over your dewy skin. “Do you want to…” you almost feel sheepish offering sex for some reason.

“Oh no,” he chuckles darkly, “I’m just getting started here….” His mouth is back on you, making you whine loudly, overwrought and still fluttering from your orgasm.

“I can’t again….”

“Oh yes, you can,” he assures in a tone that is lethal.

You tilt to look down at his handsome face framed by your still quivering thighs when something makes your heart leap into your mouth.

“Brother, why on earth are the lights off?” an unmistakable voice rings out from behind the door into the kitchen area—Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict’s older brother, head of the family, CEO of Bridgerton Investments and very troublesome to your hormones. He must have entered via the back of the building.

Your head shoots up, but Benedict puts a finger over his lips, signalling you to stay quiet, so you do. The menace doesn’t stop teasing you, though—licking a long, slow, decadent swipe up your folds as you breathe heavily and swallow your moan.

“Stay here, don't move; I’ll get rid of him,” he whispers, jumping to his feet, and with a wink, he pulls on his t-shirt and is off.

You stare, incredulous, as he loosely hangs an apron around his neck to conceal a rather delicious-looking bulge in his jeans, then disappears through the kitchen door. Did he really just tell you to stay sprawled naked on his worktop?

“Brother,” Benedict’s greeting is muffled through the wall. “I was napping between proving rounds; hence the lights are off. What can I do for you?”

“I’m not staying, on my way to catch a flight, just dropping those keys we talked about,” Anthony replies as you lay stock still, too drowsy from bliss to do anything but take slow breaths. “I’ll just grab a croissant for breakfast and be on my way.….”

“No!” Benedict squeaks. “I’ve… I’ve run out!” he scrambles the lie.

“Please,” Anthony dismisses, “I know you run your bakery better than that. And I know they'll be warm; I can smell they came out of the oven less than an hour ago.”

“Ok fine, but I’ll get it for you,” Benedict rushes out, and it sounds like he’s trying to block the door, but it’s too late.

The kitchen door swings open, and Anthony is striding towards the display case, Benedict bustling behind him, trying to block the sight of you naked on the worktop across the room. Anthony doesn’t glance to the side yet, but you’re frozen. Your muscles just unable to move. The stupid part of your brain justifying in the dark, perhaps he won’t see you at all. It’s all happening so fast, and your heart is pounding again.

“Switch the bloody lights on, will you?” Anthony gripes and reaches for the switch. Suddenly the shop is all lit up. And you’ve lost your chance to hide—to run.

“Fuckkkkking hell!” Anthony cries as he spies you over Benedict’s shoulder, his attempt to shield you unsuccessful.

Suddenly your body is responsive, and you jump down and curl into a ball behind the worktop, mortified, before he can see your face, see it’s you.

“Is this what you are doing at 4 am?? Fucking on your workspace? And with all these bloody windows?!?” you hear Anthony exclaim, sounding shocked.

“No!” Benedict defends, “I’ve never done anything remotely like this before I….”

The fact he admits that makes something in your heart melt just a touch.

“It’s unsanitary, brother,” Anthony cuts in. “It could get you shut down if you’re found out,”

“I know that!” Benedict decries.

Still, you hide, pulling on your knickers and top, head still fuzzy from the mind-blowing orgasm. You cannot find your bra for the life of you; glancing up, you see it hanging on a blade of a ceiling fan. Fucking hell, Benedict. You know you can’t hide forever, and your mortification will only worsen the longer you pretend this isn’t happening. So you slowly stand up, already wincing.

“Y/n?!?” Anthony splutters, and you want the ground to swallow you up. You also don’t miss how his eyes drop to your nipples, poking obviously through your shirt without your bra, then, as they come into view, to your bare legs beneath the shirt.

This is awkward. So awkward. About eight months prior, you had a drunken but amazing quickie with Anthony, but since it’s just been flirty banter, assuming that’s where it would stay. Thinking it was just harmless fun. But as you see a flash in his eyes now, it looks an awful lot like jealousy as well as desire. Damn, it’s attractive.

“Anthony,” you nod, trying to appear nonchalant.

“You are fucking my brother?” he gusts, disbelieving.

“No,” you answer honestly.

“Well, what the hell is this then?”

“We… we hadn’t got that far yet,” you respond quietly, and Benedict looks agog at you.

“So this is the first time?” Anthony is grilling you as if his younger brother isn’t even there.

“Yes,” it’s timid.

“Why him?” Anthony growls, and something in your body is at war. You know he won’t ever hurt you, but seeing this man all physically riled up and bothered is, well, holy hell, it's hot.

“I like him,” you whisper.

“More than me?” he takes a step closer, and you see over his shoulder that Benedict tenses.

“I didn’t think there was anything between us”, you confess honestly. “Anthony, you've made no other move since that night months ago.”

“You had sex?!” Benedict splutters.

“Once,” you placate, meeting his eyes, “drunkenly.” It somehow feels essential to add that secondary detail.

Anthony scoffs, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s not that you suddenly want me, is it? It’s that you don’t want him to have me, isn’t it?” you goad.

You know you’ve hit the nail on the head when Anthony goes for cutting. “I barely even remember it at this point,” he sniffs.

“Fine, then get out, so I can fuck him,” you challenge, nodding towards Benedict, intentionally using crude words to shock him, shock them both. Benedict’s face is a picture, but you also see traces of lust and victory. That perhaps you want him just as much, if not more.

You watch a vein throb in Anthony’s temple and know if he made a move to claim you in some stupid moment of male pride or familial one-upmanship, right now, you’d let him. Frankly, you’d let them both fuck you right here, and you’re not ashamed to admit it to yourself. You cross your arms defiantly, knowing your haphazardly thrown-on blouse frames your breasts.

“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” you retort.

Anthony takes a step closer, and the tension notches up, your chest heaving just a little more. You can’t look at him directly; you fix on a spot over his left shoulder. If you glanced over his right, you’d be caught in Benedict’s gaze, which also feels dangerous right now.

“Choose. Right now,” Anthony orders, low and slow.

You make a noise of derision, but he just stands there, raised eyebrow, hands flexing slightly at his side. You see, on the periphery of your vision, Benedict leaning in. Keen to know your response.

“Right now,” you exhale, “I’m choosing to leave.” You nettle, not appreciating being used as a power play on his little brother. But mostly, not wanting to admit you can’t answer that question.

You peek over at Benedict. “I’ll be back for my rings and my bra once you remove it from your damn ceiling,” you wink at him and enjoy the surprise on Anthony’s face as his eyes naturally shoot up.

Then you feel both of them watching you as you grab your jeans and shoes, stalking towards the coat rack and starting to dress to go out in the downpour.

“Okay, fine,” Anthony’s voice calls out in a loud sigh, “you don’t have to pick.”

You pause in the motions, turning back to them.

“What are you saying?” you frown.

He looks over at Benedict, and some kind of silent shorthand is exchanged.

“It’s a private jet; it can wait for me,” Anthony states with a killer look.

“Many hands make light work?” Benedict adds bewitchingly.

Are they really suggesting… both of them? Together? Their eyes are both hungry, and their faces are hopeful. The spike of want and triumph in your veins is almost breathtaking. The pile of clothes drops loudly from your hands to the wood floor.

“Okay. I’m listening…,” you enunciate slowly, a smirk growing on your face as you take a pace forward.

There are two very seductive smiles back at you.

This night is definitely ‘pas quotidien’.

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