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wri0thesley · 3 days

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cw: cunnilingus, not sfw, arranged marriage reader wearing a gown (no pronouns). based on this post from a few days ago. 3.1k

There's a pout on your pretty mouth that Wriothesley is utterly itching to kiss off.

It’s an expression he’s grown rather used to on the face of his spouse; somebody as properly born and bred to society as you finds themselves a touch adrift when faced with Wriothesley’s own gruff manner, his inability to kowtow to the strictures that Fontainian society attempts to place on those who have ascended to its lofty heights.

Unfortunately, when his availability had become common knowledge and eager parents had flocked to him in order to hawk their beloved children like so many lovely wares, he had found himself exceedingly drawn to you. To the stiff little way you held yourself and inclined your head, the way your voice had shook - the way that you hadn’t immediately tried to flutter your lashes and laugh at things that were not jokes.

It had not hurt that your family, though fine of name and lineage, had fallen somewhat into financial difficulty. Some parents had withdrawn their offspring from the game of courtship when it had become clear that though Wriothesley now had the title of ‘Duke’, he was still at heart a former criminal, and not the genteel fawning aristocrat they had expected to find.

(A title is not enough to take back over half a life spent in the fortress of Meropide, after all; not enough to scrub the memory of noses crunching beneath his fists, of what it feels like to end someone’s life even if it is for the greater good).

Your family, though, had needed the boost; the Mora and the prestige. And so you had remained achingly polite and maddeningly prim and proper and so very obviously inexperienced that the sweetness of it all made the back of Wriothesley’s teeth ache.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask him, in a soft whisper, as his hand fastens firmly but not bruisingly about your upper arm; as your husband maneuvers you away from the chatter of the ballroom. “You’ve barely greeted anyone--”

He knows you are scandalised; that your parents have taught you to be the gracious party guest, to bow and chatter idly and wax poetic about crystal champagne glasses. But Wriothesley has spoken to Chief Justice Neuvillette (just as out of place and adrift here as Wriothesley himself), and he considers that his duty properly done. He has no desire to do the things that are expected of him.

Not when that pout on your face - the way the light hits the glimmering petals of your lower lip - is begging to be kissed within an inch of its life, and the moonlight streaming through the windows is illuminating the curves of you in your pretty gown, and he knows that you will squirm and squeak and call him a dirty old man in that way he loves, your voice pitching with desire you’re still not sure about, the moment he has you alone at his mercy in one of the shadowed hallways of tonight’s party.

“Just to get some air,” he says, giving a smile that’s all wolf-bared teeth to the closest gentleman who dares to give you both a briefly disapproving look. “Isn’t it just so horribly stuffy in there?”

Your nose wrinkles, between your brows creasing. Wriothesley thinks about kissing every place the flesh furrows on your face, covering you in them until you’re helpless to do anything but laugh. He always feels like a hero when he has managed a laugh out of you; you seem to give them so rarely, and it’s such a darling little bell of a noise.

“It’s barely been ten minutes,” you settle on, the faintest hint of reproach in your voice. “It’s really not polite . . .”

What is not polite, he thinks, is the way that the run of his thoughts have turned to your dress, cut low enough to make people think indecent thoughts about you. There are no manners, either, to the fact he is thinking about the perfume he had watched you dab on this evening, and wondering how long he’d have to rut into you until the only thing that people could smell on you would be the musk of his ownership.

“They’ll live,” Wriothesley says firmly, steering you out into the hallway. “You ought to know nobody here really wants my esteemed company.”

There’s no bitterness in his voice. Wriothesley does not want to be beloved of this particular roiling mass of humanity; the aristocracy, in his experience, is all artifice. He may spend his time with criminals, but at least the criminal underclasses are usually honest about what they want. They’ve been taught that ‘you do not get if you do not ask, do not try, do not work for it’ - these people, this gathering of society schmoozers . . . they get simply by being born.

Of course, since he married you, there have been more invitations than before.

Part of it is curiosity - what kind of spouse will the Duke of the Fortress take? One like him, who does not conform? Some of them want nothing more than to ogle at you and find out your secrets, poke you in your softest parts so they know if you will be a weakness that they can later exploit. Wriothesley finds these people distasteful - at least some of the invitations come from those who have already met you, who have been charmed by your pretty manners and sweet way of speaking, who are hoping that perhaps you will be some calming influence on your uncivilised brute of a husband. He still doesn’t like these invitations, of course (any event in which he is forced to put on a stiffly starched shirt and button it to his throat, to fuss with cravats and tailcoats when he’d rather stick to his own clothes, are not generally met with much pleasure for him), but at least you always seem thrilled to get them.

It’s because of you he had accepted this one. When you had brought the invitation to him all bright-eyed and chirping, like a pretty magpie with a shiny coin, he had not been able to think of an excuse faced with you looking so utterly thrilled . . . and so he’d helped you choose a dress (he does so love you in black and red, and if he had chosen something cut low in the chest for reasons of his own, who is going to blame him when they see you?), and had travelled out of the Fortress in order to please you.

He’d only lasted ten minutes, but perhaps after he’s pleased himself the two of you can go back out into the throes and he will have the memory of what you’ve just done to dwell on as he pretends to care about the difference between the fish fork and the dessert fork.

“That’s just because you don’t let them see the real you,” you begin, but Wriothesley has seen what looks like a likely little hallway - secluded and dark, only one or two doorways leading off of it. He tugs at you, and though you offer a token resistance, you allow yourself after a moment to be pulled into the little alcove, and for your husband to cage you against a wall. Your breath catches, your lashes fluttering as your eyes flit to take in the breadth of him, the muscles, the way you are inescapably caught by him - and Wriothesley does not miss the desire that dances over your gaze. “Your Grace--”

“Mmm?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, lowering his face closer to yours so that he can see himself reflected in your eyes. His cock twitches at the way you bite your lip unconsciously, and he knows from the little gasp that you do not miss the sensation of it against you. “Am I doing something untoward again, sweetheart?”

He lets his voice roughen a touch on the word; the patois of the criminal flavouring it in a way that reminds you he is dangerous, and you pout so sweetly and let out the quietest little whine that he doesn’t know how he stops himself from having his way with you right then and there. There are many untoward things he would like to do to you; many untoward things he is planning on doing to you, right here, in public.

“It’s indecent . . .” You gasp - but you still wrap your arms around his neck, and still pull him in to let him kiss you hot and hungry and fierce as a wolf. He cannot get enough of the way you taste beneath him; there is sugar that lingers on your lips even when he hasn’t seen you imbibe anything but a single glass of champagne when offered. He wants to devour you; to taste every part of you, until his mouth only remembers the lingering remnants of your own.

You gasp, pressing your body - soft and impossibly pliable - against his wherever you can reach him, hard planes of muscle meeting the softer give of your flesh beneath your gown.

“You seem to like it well enough,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to whisper it into the delicate shell of your ear, delighting in the way the words make you shiver. You try to school your face to sternness, but your own desire betrays you even as you try and pull your dignity around you like a cloak.

“B-But, Your Grace, in public--”

“Mm . . . doesn’t the thrill of being caught make it seem all the sweeter?” He gives you a grin that shines like the sharks that sometimes float past the Fortress, serenely serrated. You squeak in a cross between dismay and longing as he sinks to the floor, and his big, scarred hands find the hem of your gown to begin pushing it up your ankles.

The frills and fripperies of lace and ribbons look almost wicked, in those hands; fine, delicate concoctions of fabric and satin that were not made to be man-handled. You shiver at the thought of his grip ripping through them; of fine fabrics being rent asunder in his hands as you know he is capable of.

“We shouldn’t--” You whisper, in that pitching whine of ‘don’t’ that is only a step away from ‘please don’t stop’.

His palms - he will not even grudgingly wear full gloves - feel cool, even through your stockings, as he slides them up your calf. His chuckle is a rough-spurred thing, and before you can say anything further he has disappeared beneath your skirts entirely, and you find yourself clinging to the moulding on the wall behind you to try and get some semblance of purchase.

He tugs at one of the ribbons that keeps your stockings held up, and from the hot puff of air against your bare thigh, you know he has done so with his teeth. Your pulse flutters in your throat, your vision fair spotting with the mixture of feelings that Wriothesley’s actions are drawing forth from you - desire and shame and wanting and need and unsurety, all mixing together inside of you in a cocktail of arousal so potent you barely know how you stand it.

A wet, open-mouthed kiss is pressed to the spot above your stocking, on your bare thigh. You feel the graze of his teeth against the soft skin, unseen by anyone aside from him. Unmarked by anyone aside from him (you have learnt that the Duke is very fond of using his teeth, during his bed-chamber escapades; you have learnt more at his mouth and his fingers and his mercy than you had ever thought that you would have cause to know).

Wriothesley’s cock is so hard in his too-tight formal trousers that he can barely think of anything but the pulse between his thighs, but the moment he has his head beneath your skirts and he can scent your arousal on the air, all thoughts of tending to his own almost-painful erection instead turn to tasting you, smelling you, burying himself inside of you until you are a helpless mess.

He knows that logically you taste, probably, of the oils and the powders and the lotions you use, on your skin and in your bath. Perhaps a touch of your own sweat - but to Wriothesley, the taste that lingers on the tip of his tongue as he takes his time kissing up your thigh, working towards the apex between them, is nothing short of ambrosial. He can hear his own breaths, hard and panting, but he has never been the kind of man who lets himself feel shamed for doing what he wants.

“You’re dripping,” he grunts, and the muscles in your thighs jump, tensing, as if you’re cringing at what he has said - and though he cannot see you from his place beneath the skirts of your gown, he can gladly imagine the expression on your face. You’re darling. He wants to kiss you until you can’t breathe and fuck you until you can’t walk; but for now . . .

He settles by kissing over the softness of your mound, letting his hot breath once more fan out over that most intimate part of you. He hears you whine again from somewhere above him;

“Wriothesley, you’re being obscene . . .”

He lets his mouth fully envelope your cunt; lets his tongue lathe out across your folds, flickering against your clit in a way that makes you violently jerk. The moan that you let out is muffled - one of your own (gloved, as is right and proper in society) hands has flown up to your mouth. Though he will miss the sound of your enjoyment unencumbered, he supposes it is better for privacy if you at least make an attempt.

“So you want me to stop?” He growls, the taste of your slick lingering on his tongue, honey-thick and just as sweet. To drive in the point of what you would be missing, he lets himself give your clit - the swollen nub standing to attention, as if begging him for more - a kitten lick.

“Don’t even think about it, you scoundrel,” you say, whisper-soft and gasping, and Wriothesley knows you cannot possibly fail to sense the curve of his lips against your cunt.

“As you wish,” he says. “Never let it be said that I don’t take my duties as a Duke and a gentleman seriously.”

And he returns to his task with voracious excitement.

He has done this to you before, but never in public - never with you standing, never with the threat of discovery looming over his head . . . he finds he does indeed quite enjoy the thrill, so he takes his sweet time exploring your folds with his tongue, letting himself be even wetter and messier than he’d normally be.

The sound is indeed obscene, as he delves the tip of his tongue between your folds - as he finds your pulsing entrance and toys with it, slipping just a little of the flexible muscle inside of the channel until he feels you try and clamp down on it, before he returns to the wet circling of your fluttering hole.

His nose presses directly into the softness of your mound, grinding against your clit with every slight adjustment of his head. Normally, you’d at least be able to tug on his hair as he did this (and he’s rather fond of that too - the way you do even that so neatly, so apologetically), but now you are entirely at his mercy and it is obvious from the tremble in your thigh, as if you are going to swoon to the floor at any moment.

You shift to rest more against the wall and Wriothesley takes that as an excuse to manhandle you - he takes one of your thighs and slings it over his shoulder, unbalancing you but for a moment - but giving him far better access to the spot between your legs.

Far easier, like this, for him to use thumb and forefinger to tease the lips of your labia apart and to settle his mouth around the pearl of your clit.

You jerk in surprise again, more soft muffled whimpering coming from above. He can make out a few of the words - ‘scoundrel, rake, you filthy pervert, Wriothesley Your Grace please don’t stop--’

He is not a cruel husband, so he does not.

Your clit, pulsing with need, is drawn into his mouth - and Wriothesley takes great pleasure in suckling upon it the way that one might a particularly delicious candy, his tongue lathing over and over and over. You squirm in his grip, and he imagines your face as it always is when you are close to the edge. You tremble and sweat and shake for him and Wriothesley needs you to fall apart like he needs air.

He redoubles his efforts; his other hand clenches on your inner thigh, his forefinger finding the pulsing, clenching hole of your sex. As he sucks, he gently inserts just the tip of it inside of you, and oh, you are greedy for more than his mouth--

You come with a strangled cry that is not quite caught by your glove - a clamping of your thighs around Wriothesley’s ears, and a gush of wetness that Wriothesley is more than happy to let flow into his open mouth and down his chin, to stain the collar of his starched white shirt.

When your aftershocks are over - when you are trembling not so violently, and he trusts you to stand on your own two feet, he presses a kiss to your cunt before he returns your leg to the ground.

He disentangles himself from your skirts, his knees only aching a little - nothing, really, compared to the inescapable pulse of his cock where it’s longing to be pressed hot and deep inside of you. He does not bother wiping his mouth of your release - and when you see him, his face shiny and wet with the proof of your enjoyment, you huff in embarrassment and avoid his gaze.

You’re the sweetest little thing, he thinks again fondly. Even though you had moments ago been rutting against his mouth like the most brazen and desperate creature in Teyvat . . . now, faced with the proof of what you’ve done, you’ve gone over all proper again.

Deftly and firmly, he takes your chin in his hand and presses a kiss against your mouth, making sure your own taste lingers on the soft petals of your lips. He makes sure he takes full control of it; that it is a press of his ownership of you like his seal pressing into wax on the missives he writes down in the depths of the Fortress. If only you knew just how much of him you owned in turn.

“I think,” he says, his voice thick, “I feel much improved. And you were right, sweetheart, about it being rude to leave a party so quickly. Should we return back to the ballroom?”

#writing #genshin impact posting #not sfw text #wriothesley x reader #drabble #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut

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monstersflashlight · 2 days

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Hi, girlyyy! Could you do a male monster x male reader nsfw? For example: the monster, in a mating cycle and in dire need to mate, thought Reader was a female and thought he'd be perfect to bear his offspring, not knowing that Reader was a male the entire time. Could be any monster of your choice(though, while I was writing this, I was thinking of some sea creature so you could roll with that too, I'm fine with both.)

Hi anon! I hope you like this. You can also find more m/m stories here, here and here. Enjoy! :)

Feral creature

Werewolf x male!reader || Breeding, lowkey CNC, knotting

Running through the woods seemed like a great idea. Fantastic idea. You were tired of the gym’s treadmill and some fresh air sounded like a dream. So you decided to drive to the forest nearby and go running for a couple hours. Touch grass and all that stuff. Great idea. Yeah… Great.

You worked up a sweat, to the point that you thought an animal ten miles away could smell you, you felt a bit disgusting thinking about it. But it was nice, so you kept running. At some point you should have taken the wrong turn, because when you decided to go back, you couldn’t find the damn path you came from. So you tried not to panic and simply started walking, the forest in that area wasn’t too big, you would get out sooner or later. And it was still early in the day.

You walked. And walked. When they sun high in the sky and you felt like you were burning you heard the first stick breaking. You turned around, your heartbeat going crazy with fear. But it was just a rabbit. Just a tiny creature of the forest. But the next thing you heard wasn’t a tiny creature. The howl in the distance sounded like a big thing, like something was coming right to you. And fast.

You decided it was better to hide, but got scared and started to run. You weren’t the best at good ideas, that was more than clear at that point.

Then it hit you. A big creature jumped from behind you and a low growl sounded when he landed over you. The creature started to smell you all over, big claws running up and down your body, inspecting you. You were about to scream when you felt a big thing pressed against your ass. Big. Really big. You struggled under his weight, but the creature held you pinned down, his weight enough to avoid you escaping.

His dick, or what you expected was a dick but felt like half a baseball bat against your ass, was rutting against your ass like his life depended on it. And you… you felt arousal pooling in your abdomen as your dick got hard. What the fuck was wrong with you? Against any better judgment, you pushed your ass back against him, rubbing his dick.

Not two seconds later, you were naked. The creature tore your clothes apart and growled against your ear: “Need to breed you.”

You tried to ask what did he mean, if he even knew he couldn’t breed you, but your explanation didn’t get out. You felt the tip of his dick against your asshole. He was so wet you could feel his precome against your rim, making you wet, and dripping down your crack, pooling against your balls and making you whimper. There was no way that was going to fit without prep. There was no way.

You tried to pull away, but the creature growled again and held you tighter, the tip of his dick breaching your hole and making you scream. He pushed you down hard, his body covering yours, his hips pushing, not asking for entrance, but forcing himself in. You wanted to cry out, but what came out was a moan. You didn’t understand what was happening with your body, but the liquid you felt against your hole was making it easier. You could feel the pain of his dick breaking into your hole, but not nearly as much as you should if he wasn’t using lube. You guessed magical creature precum was in order. It stung, it was a bit painful, but sooo good.

“Take all of me, like a good little slut. Take it.” The creature was mindless behind you, pushing his massive dick inside your hole.

He didn’t go too far in at first, just the tip, which already felt too big inside of you. Stretching you in the best possible way but also impossibly wide. He pulled back just to see your hole twitching, gaping, you might be confused, but your body knew what it wanted. Your body wanted his dick buried inside completely. He pulled back in, a few more centimeters at the time. Back and forth, pushing some of his magic precum in you and getting deeper. And deeper. And deeper.

Every time he went in, he fed your hungry hole a little bit more of his cock. When he finally bottomed out you were mindless with pleasure. His dick was so big that every movement he made hit your prostate and made you cry out. You were oversensitive already, the attack to your senses so big you couldn’t do anything but babble and drool over the forest floor.

And then he started fucking you for real. His thrusts so fast and so hard you couldn’t try to push back, he was moving your body like you were a toy for his cock, and you were enjoying it. You were enjoying it so much you felt embarrassed about it. Fuck. His dick was hitting everything inside of you, he was pounding on your ass so hard and so deep… It was almost like he wanted to rearrange your guts. And you loved it.

He growled again: “I’m gonna breed you. Pump you full of my seed.” His pace was restless, feral.

“You- You can’t. I’m not a woman.” You let out in between thrusts, your voice strangled because of the force of his fucking. You were so close.

He didn’t care about your words, he kept fucking you restlessly as he growled: “I will breed you, human.” You tried to argue with him but your voice broke with a needy sound when he changed the angle of your hips and hit your prostate just right. You screamed. But he didn’t stop there: “Your human cunt is so tight.” You felt your blood rushing to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you as much as he was.

But instead of arguing, you muttered a whimpery: “Please…” That word was the only one you could muster at that point, too far gone in the pleasure.

Your whole body felt on fire, the stretch in your ass felt amazing, pain and pleasure mixing until you were crying out. A chant of please, please, please... leaving your mouth. It felt better than good. It was heaven on earth. Or maybe you ascended. Death by dicking. You’d be okay with that. If raw fucking with a feral creature in the woods was the last thing you did, you’d be okay with that. You’d die happy.

The creature kept going for what felt like hours, maybe just a dozen of minutes, you didn’t understand time anymore. You could only comprehend the cadence of his thrusts, the feeling of his cock hitting your prostate, his teeth close to your neck… He didn’t touch your cock at all, just fucked you senseless without caring about you or your pleasure. He just wanted to breed you. To fill you with his cum. It was the best torture. And you… You were pliant under his claws.

Something happened then, he grabbed your hips and pushed them flushed against his. His dick so deep you could cry in ecstasy… And then you felt his knot. It expanded around your rim as he howled, holding your body as he started to come inside of you, filling you to the brim. And keep coming. The knot hit your prostate right in, making you scream until your voice gave out and your dick started convulsing under you. Rope after rope of come hit the forest floor as the creature behind you emptied himself inside your quivering hole. And he didn’t stop. The over-stimulation made tears run down your face, but he didn’t stop grinding his knot against your prostate, too much, too much, too much... You passed out.

When you came back to your senses you were alone, your car a couple meters away. Did you imagine it? Was it all in your head? Did you get a heatstroke and ran naked through the woods? You reached around you looking for evidence. Your hole was tender and puffy, gaping and empty, dripping such amount of seed that you felt like he could be right...

Maybe he did breed you.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato #request #werewolf #werewolf x human #werewolf x reader #male!reader

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runa-falls · 2 days

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Please write a story where Marc and Jake tease Steven for being soft in bed so he becomes this dominant rough guy who overstims the reader IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE IT DOWN

a/n: idk how to write it down either, but i'll give it a shot! btw, marc and jake would never talk to steven like this, but just for the sake of the story they're assholes :( also sorry this is a YEAR late 0-0

cw: smut (18+), voyeurism (3x), f!masturbation, mean/ooc!marc + jake, rough sex, overstimulation, oral (f!recieving), multiple orgasms!, slightly possessive lovemaking, slight breeding kink (creampie), sad-ish/insecurity, feelings, dom-ish!steven, fluff -- (idk why it got so soft so fast im sorry), L-bombs, commentary from the other moon boys~

wc: 3.5k

masterlist

---

he watches from the doorway as you whine and mewl on the bed, desperately attempting to get yourself off.

your whole body glistens with heat as you squirm under the dull lighting of the room-- clearly, you've been at this for a while.

you are dressed in a familiar white undershirt that is definitely from the boys' closet, but your bottom half is bare and spread out, dripping onto the comforter as your fingers work their magic.

a perfect eye-full for your 3-in-1 boyfriend.

"this is why you're not allowed to have her on the weekends." marc taunts from a nearby mirror, though his eyes are locked on your writhing body. steven clenches his jaw as the grating voice in his head pulls him away from the alluring scene in front of him.

god knows why he decided to put up so many mirrors in the flat. it's like he's trying to drive himself crazy.

your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger delicately circles against your clit, spreading your slick all over your pulsing cunt until wet sounds begin to fill the air. you suck on your bottom lip as you frantically tease the sensitive bud, your legs tense from the build-up, and your back arches off the mattress.

"she needs a real man to take care of her after a long week of work."

that irks steven.

you've never talked about being unsatisfied by his slower pace -- by his need to savor each look, sound, and touch that you give him.

of course, jake needs to chime in as well, "look at our girl, stevie, she's so needy. let me have the body. i'll give her what she needs."

steven tries to block them out, but it's hard when their voices are coming straight from his own mind.

when he thinks back on your time together, everything is perfect. at least to him, it is.

he loves hearing your soft breathy moans, tasting the sweetness of your pussy dripping from his kitten licks, and feeling those delicate kisses that you share as you ride him gently. you fall apart in his arms, hold him close, and exchange whispered 'i love you's.

sure, he's always been the softer side of the three -- kissing over jake's bites or gently caressing marc's bruises -- but he thought you liked that. he thought that was enough.

but now you're getting yourself off without even seeking him out first.

you're close, so fucking close, panting out stuttered breathes, thighs clenching together, and body shaking, but --

"fuck!"

it's not enough.

your heart beats rapidly against your chest as you start to come down from that unreachable peak you've been chasing all day. as your foggy mind finally clears up, you sense someone at the door.

"s-steven!" you're surprised to see him, especially just standing there, watching you fail to pleasure yourself.

his work shifts have been running later and later since marc's last mission (donna is forcing him to work unpaid overtime instead of firing him) so you weren't expecting him until dinner time.

the shifts have been brutal for him.

these days, he just eats sleep for dinner, too tired to do more than just collapse on the couch and cuddle you. you've tried to convince him to just quit, that jake's cab escapades and marc's more 'eccentric' job opportunities can pay for everything, but he really loves the job, despite the weirdly toxic work environment.

"darling."

it's a flat greeting, a tone you've never heard from his lips, especially not when he's fronting. he doesn't seem happy to see you. actually, he looks quite upset.

you cover yourself up with a blanket, suddenly uncomfortable with your partial nudity when he's unhappy like this.

"why are you back so early?" the usual glimmer in his eyes is snuffed out, instead replaced with an eerie darkness. "what's--are you okay, honey?"

"take it off."

"w-what?" you know he's referring to the blanket, but the way he demanded it --

"off."

you hesitantly move the blanket, revealing the evidence of your unfulfilled desperation. you shyly look up at him, embarrassed and terribly turned on that he's making you do this.

you can't help but press your thighs together, already feeling another spark of heat simply from seeing your darling boyfriend with his head of messy curls.

"keep them open."

you obey his command and spread your legs, leaning back to give him a good view. his eyes meet your center, the frustration you couldn't get rid of. you immediately see need blooming in his body, particularly under his slacks.

soft-spoken steven has never been as forthcoming as his counterparts, but he doesn't need to be, his body does all the talking for him.

you're watching each other as he slowly approaches you, tension thick in the air. he's so desperate to give you exactly what you need and deserve.

steven's mind runs through all the times he had stuck around while marc and jake fucked you.

the first time it happened, he didn't mean to watch through marc's eyes, but once he saw how easily you submitted for him, how utterly ruined you are once marc is done with you, he couldn't help but pop in once in a while.

steven nearly flushes in shame from the memory. he's so perverted...

marc is possessive, steven learned. he likes to know that you're his. he marks you up with his hands and mouth so you'll never forget who you belong to, then he makes you scream his name as you reach your high as he fucks his cum into you.

of course, you're happy to give him whatever he demands, laying right where he wants you and taking anything he'd give you.

jake's methods are different: he makes you cry.

it's the overstimulation that gets him off the best. the sight of your body shaking and writhing to get away from his insatiable touch gets him hard, makes him growl against your tacky skin. he gets off to getting you off, and you love it.

so maybe a mixture of both is what you need.

he can do that.

"i need you to do something for me." he curses inwardly at how soft his voice is when he talks to you. it's a reflex. he's supposed to be confident and rough.

"anything." you breathe out.

"turn around for me, love." he's standing right by the bed, leaning over you. "on all fours."

the surface of your body ripples with goosebumps as you position yourself on the bed for him. he hasn't even touched you and you're already humming with pleasure.

you hear him sigh behind you before he shuffles closer and delicately caresses your bare hips and bottom with warm hands. you feel yourself melt against the mattress as you drop from holding yourself up by your hands to leaning on your forearms. he always makes you feel soft and cozy, even with the simple contact of his hand against your body.

steven watches you arch your back as you get comfortable, hungrily taking in the way you unconsciously push your ass toward him. you're effortlessly sexy to him. you could simply put your hair up into a ponytail and he'd be rock-hard in his slacks from seeing your bare neck. so this...is distracting him.

"so..." marc's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, "you gonna do anything or just stare at her all night?"

"I'm working on it!" steven grits out (in his mind).

"alright, show me how it's done then, loverboy."

you gasp quietly as steven suddenly forces your legs to spread wider for him. you would have lost your balance if it weren't for his steady hold on you.

he slowly kneels in front of the bed, briefly adjusting himself in his pants to relieve some of his desperation. you struggle to keep your legs apart when you feel his warm breaths brush against your needy cunt. you swear you're literally throbbing with need for him.

jake's done this before, steven recalls, eating you out from behind. you seemed to really enjoy it despite the intense overstimulation that pushed you to tears and the bruises left on your thighs from his tight hold and nipping mouth.

he can do this.

he leans in and lightly brushes his plump lips against your wet center to test the waters. your muffle a whimper against the pillow you cling onto, but he hears it loud and clear.

you're so soft and wet, already falling apart in front of him. he can't help but poke his tongue out to taste your sweetness. the warm softness of his tongue has you urgently pushing yourself against him and he takes that as his sign to go deeper.

this time he holds you closer, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he dips into the hot opening of your cunt, working his tongue against your tender walls. his mouth waters at the taste of you and he's desperately leaning in for more.

he thrusts his tongue into your cunt, filling the room with slurping noises that nearly make you blush with how lewd they sound. he's pressed so closely behind you that he's practically supporting your weight as your legs grow too weak to hold you up.

"s-ste-- a-aah-- mm..." you fall apart when he starts licking from your entrance to your clit, flicking eagerly as you start to gush against his tongue. he can already feel your legs twitch and tremble as you try to escape his hot mouth.

your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his soft lips wrap around your aching clit. it's almost too much for you to handle. he suckles on your sensitive bud until you're whining out against your pillow as your body trembles with the crash of your orgasm.

steven ignores your pleas and your attempts to escape his mouth as he continues to work you through your high. he cleans you up with a gentle mouth, making sure not to miss a single drop. drool pools against the pillow as your exhausted body struggles to stay conscious.

“hm, not bad…” jake admires your trembling frame from a reflective surface nearby, hungrily taking in the scene and wishing he were in steven's place instead. "maybe we were wrong about you, stevie."

steven watches you as well, but with a hint of reluctance. he's never seen you like this first hand. usually, you're the one staring down at him with a small smile as he attempts to catch his breath from your teasing antics.

he's not sure if he likes this any more than the usual dynamic the two of you have. of course he loves knowing that he can make you fall apart just as much as marc and jake, but it's not him.

"you're not done with her yet, right?" marc asks, "'cuz if you are, i'd be happy to finish her off."

jake is quick to argue, "actually markie, i'm pretty sure it's my turn to spoil our little princess."

steven finally bites back, "no, tonight she's mine."

he grumbles, making an effort to push his annoyances into silence so he can give all of his attention to you.

steven nudges you to lay on your back so he can see your face, "love, are you alright?" his tone is light, despite the fact he's eager to continue ravaging you -- even if you do end up falling asleep.

"mhm," your eyes flutter open, sparkling with satisfaction as you stare up at him. you're adorable with that post-sex flush on your skin, highlighting the tops of your cheeks. "i just... wasn't expecting this from you."

"did you like it?"

"steven, i can barely feel my legs."

he lets out a nervous chuckle like he's unsure whether that's a good thing or not, but you ease his mind with a soft smile. you reach up and cradle his face, "yes, baby, i loved it." he presses his cheek against your hand, enjoying your embrace, "i always like it when you touch me."

"then can we do more?"

of course, you want to have sex with him, but...that, no matter how mind-blowing it was, wasn't him. steven is the type of guy to hold eye contact with you while eating you out, wanting to catch every expression and moan of praise as he brings you to the edge. he's the type to hold your hand as you cum, squeezing lovingly to encourage you to fully let go because you're safe with him.

all night he's been acting off. he's been distant and in his head -- and you have a faint idea as to why (their names rhyme with "bark and bake") but you want your sweet and gentle steven back.

you take his hand, "w-wait...steven?"

“yes, darling?"

you sit up, "can you, um, kiss me first?" it's a bit embarrassing to ask when he's already been nose deep in your cunt, but you need that sweet embrace that he's always given.

"of course." steven’s eyes soften.

cool relief rushes through his body. maybe he was wrong, maybe you do like his soft touches and sweet kisses. maybe you like him for being himself. it's not like marc and jake are the same anyway. each of them gives you something special.

he leans in closer and presses his lips against yours, his body trapping you against the bed. he immediately feels you relax against him as you start to move your mouth over his. he kisses you gently, taking time to trace over the sensitive edge of your bottom lip before dipping in and laving his tongue against yours.

when you separate from each other with puffy lips and heated breaths, you can't help but admire the pretty man above you who regards you with pure admiration in his eyes.

"make love to me steven," you whisper, "a-and hold me after, please." his soft brown eyes, full of longing and admiration, meet yours.

"always, love." he pecks you once more on the lips, "i'd do anything for you." you feel his lips move down from your mouth to the edge of your jaw, then your shoulder, and finally the top of your covered chest.

he sits up briefly to pull your shirt off before doing the same with his own clothes. once he's in nothing but his briefs, he's back on top of you.

steven has stars in his eyes as he watches his hand slide over the softness of your curves. he loves how perfectly you fit against him.

you gasp softly as he teasingly brushes his thumb against your nipple. your body is already so sensitive to his touch.

"you're so beautiful..." he whispers.

as he leans in and captures the bud in his mouth, his hand drags down to the spot where you need him the most, sending a wave of sensations through your body and causing you to arch against his mouth.

you're already wet enough for him to slip his fingers inside of you, so he immediately begins thrusting deeply against your spongey walls, letting sloppy sounds of your wetness echo through the bedroom.

you tangle your fingers into his curls and arch your back as he starts to suckle at your nipple. his slick tongue flicks over the hardened bud, sending tingles up your spine. you are already half-delirious from how expertly he's working your body.

everything seems to speed up when you start to squirm under him. he's pushing you harder onto the bed, he's nipping love bites at your tits, his hand is moving faster against you -- from the sounds coming between you, you're sure you've made a mess of his hand.

"s-steven...mm...please!" your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he gets overzealous, hitting your g-spot over and over again without giving you a breather. he groans against your breast when you tug at his hair.

without any warning, he pulls away.

you reluctantly let him get up (though you're definitely too weak at this point to stop him) and you're left to breathlessly watch as he licks his fingers clean and pulls himself out of his briefs.

pleasure continues to buzz against the surface of your skin as you hungrily stare at the way he pumps himself delicately in front of you, his cock is already dripping with desperation. he looks at you with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks while he touches himself.

what a pretty boy...

"need to feel you," steven mumbles, shifting closer to you to press his cock against the seam of your cunt.

"feel me," you beg, canting your hips upwards to meet him.

steven gently moves himself against you, rutting himself against your wet center. he pants when his tip just barely presses into your entrance, proving how ready you are for him.

slowly, he pushes himself in, shuddering at how soft and wet you feel around him.

you whimper softly when he starts fucking you at a slow pace, forcing you to feel how perfectly he stretches you out, over and over again.

your body shudders every time he bottoms out and presses so intensely against that spot inside of you, making you feel like you're about to burst if he doesn't pull out soon.

steven looks down at your face, wanting to see if you're liking this -- but it turned out to be a mistake. he meant to make this sweet, to hold back and make love to you like you asked, but when you look up at him with those shiny eyes and that blissed, fucked-out expression, he can't help the way his hips start to frantically grind against yours.

"i'm sorry, love, i can't -- uhh -- c-can't help it when you look at me like that!" steven pushes your thighs upwards, forcing them closer to the mattress on either side of your head. you cry out as the new angle pushes him deeper within you, hitting every buzzing nerve inside of your sopping cunt.

"mm...steven!" the bed below rocks as his hips violently slap against you in a rhythmic motion.

he groans as he watches his cock thrust inside of you, making a mess of your wet center as you gush around him. you look so small under him, yet you're eagerly taking every inch in that tight cunt.

"i-i want to be inside of you forever..." steven pants out, "and i want you to feel me," he reaches between your bodies to press against your stomach, "here, forever."

"ahh~" you pant heatedly as the added pressure of his hand makes him feel even bigger inside of you. you squirm under him from the intense feeling, but you can barely move out from his hold.

"i love you, darling." he chokes out as he grows closer to the edge, rutting deliciously against the top wall of your pussy. "t-tell-tell me you love me too."

"fuck -- i love you, steven. i'll a-always -- nmph," you flutter around him as the heat of your own climax explodes throughout your body. "love you~" you can barely get the words out as he finishes inside of you.

you don't mind the way he rests on top of you as he attempts to catch his breath. his body is hot and sticky against yours, but it feels comforting nonetheless.

"mm...i missed you and your sweetness." you sigh, enjoying his weight over you, even if it is a tad difficult to breathe.

steven sheepishly mumbles against you, "but that wasn't exactly sweet lovemaking."

"sure, but it was you."

he simply hums happily in response, dotting light kisses against your tacky neck before nuzzling his face against you.

when you both cooled off, you decidedly needed a little space from the man pinning you to the mattress, "ok i need to breathe a little, steven."

"oh, oops, i'll get up." he pushes himself up so he can give you some air. you can't help but shudder as he starts to pull out of you.

"ah~" you can feel the warmth of his cum start to drip from your center, "you came so much, steven. look -- you made a mess." you tease, opening your legs for him.

"m'sorry, love." he sits back on his knees in front of you, staring down at the mess he made (as if he isn't just as messy). "didn't mean to..."

it doesn't sound like he's sorry though -- not by the distracted way he mutters out the apology while scooping up his cum and shoving it back into you.

"steven."

"i'm just trying to minimize the mess!" he defends.

you don't stop him because it feels oddly pleasant to be doted on like this. you'll just have to do a final cleanup later, you decide.

"imagine if i weren't on birth control," you joke, "i'd definitely be pregnant by now."

"..."

"steven are you hard again?!"

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight

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allthornsnopetals · 3 days

Text

We are not Friends D.Bridgerton

Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.

"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.

Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.

"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.

"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.

Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.

"This has to be some sort of joke."

"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.

Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."

Dearest gentle readers,

It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.

Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.

"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.

"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"

"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.

A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.

"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense

"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.

What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.

If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.

"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.

"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.

Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.

The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.

"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.

She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.

"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.

A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.

If only things were different.

Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.

"Yes, of course!"

Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.

"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"

Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.

"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.

"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."

Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"

She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.

"Looking like what."

Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.

"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.

Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.

So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.

"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.

Ruse.

The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.

"Deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.

"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.

"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.

He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.

Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.

"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.

She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"

Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.

Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.

"You're going to regret that, Y/n."

With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.

"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.

"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"

Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.

With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.

The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.

"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.

"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.

Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.

"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.

"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.

"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.

"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."

"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.

"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.

"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.

Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.

"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."

Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.

At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.

"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.

"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."

"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.

"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse

She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.

"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.

For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?

Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.

"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.

"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."

No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.

But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?

Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.

Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.

"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.

Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.

Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.

Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.

She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.

By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.

"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.

Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.

"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.

"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.

Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.

Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.

Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.

What is Daphne doing, indeed?

She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?

Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.

"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.

"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."

Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.

"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.

Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.

"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.

"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.

Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.

"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.

Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.

Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.

"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.

Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.

"What?" Her question barely, audible.

"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.

"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.

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blerb-f1 · 2 days

Text

"Lost" - Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Charles celebrates too hard and gets lost. More news at 6

Find more on my masterlist!

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“Sir?”

“Sir!”

“Wah?”

Charles awoke as he felt his shoulder getting ruffled, eyes dry and hurting. His throat was dry.

“Sir, please get up. This train is finished cleaning, you have to leave”

‘Train?’, he wondered in confusion. Hadn't he just been celebrating his win in Monaco? He took a look at the person shaking him. She was a train attendant, pretty looking he might add. Her uniform was not flattering the least. A light blue t-shirt with a dark blue vest thrown over it. Her accent was german. He attempted to get out of his seat but stumbled, bad leg control.

She supported his shoulder.

“Where am I?”

“Far off from any kind of civilisation you'd normally travel to, based on that watch on your arm” the attended reported. “The middle of nowhere, in Germany.”

Charles held his head. “I don't remember getting on this train at all.”

She looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, you had all the necessary tickets for your journey. Must have gotten them from somewhere.”

Together they walked outside of the train. The train station was small, one white painted building. Only two tracks, lot's off trees.

“Have you got anywhere to go to?”

Charles looked at her, thinking. Fumbling around his pocket resulted in nothing, his phone and wallet were gone. Shit.

“Apparently not. Let's just get going. You can stay the night with me, I've got space.”

“Can't I just take this train back to where I'm from?” Charles asked her in desperation.

“Good Joke, truly. This train runs every two hours during the day. And then you'd have to take more trains, none of which usually run in the night as well. Also, I've had a long day of work. I'm really, really beat up.”

Charles sighed. ‘What did I just get myself into? The people saying to not mix uppers and downers were right…’

She led him to her Car, a little silver Hyundai. Throwing her backpack in and settling into the driver's seat, she sighed in relief. “Finally done.”

“Done?”

“I've got the weekend off. Your arrival kinda ruined it but we gotta take the things as they come. I'm Y/N L/N. You?”

“Charles Leclerc”

“That sounds French”

“Monegasque”

“What? I don't know that word”

“I'm from Monaco!”

She looked at him in surprise. “Now you're pulling my leg. You got here from MONACO? You must have taken like 10+ trains!”

“Urgs, not so loud. My head hurts”

“God.” She groaned as she inserted the car key, starting the little engine. “Move your hand”

“Huh?”

“Either you move your hand or you loosen the handbrake. I can't get it with you spreading over there”

Charles quickly lifted his arms in the air. “Isn't it Electric?”

She just looked at him exasperated. “Do I look like I'm shitting money? I can't afford a car that new. Unless you'd wanna pay one Mr. Money Bag over there.”

“Oi, that's rude”

“You're from Monaco, don't y'all bath in money and champagne? Now, let's just get going.”

The car ride was silent with Charles looking out of the windows. This really was the countryside. Trees, fields, cows and horses. Lots of half-timbered houses.

After half an hour of journey, with them passing over roads he'd never even classify as those, considering the many holes and breaks they finally reached a large property. A large half timbered house with a similar looking barn and a long building houses garages presented itself to him. She parked the Hyundai in one of the Garages, the smaller one to be exact, and stepped outside.

Charles followed her as she unlocked the front door, revealing a house with small-ish rooms with low height walls painted weight. The most color each room spotted was oak- all the furniture and floor were oak. He had never been in a house like this before.

“Stair up, the left room is the bathroom. Soap's there, go shower. I'll put clean clothes and towels in front of the door for you.”

“Shower?”

“Sorry …Charlie. You stink. Long journey and all”

“Ah, I'm so sorry! I'll go shower immediately!”

Charles stepped into the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the ground. The second they left his body he noticed the less than stellar stench of sweat, alcohol and weed stuck on them. The water hitting his skin felt heavenly, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt he never thought could amass so quickly. The water was different, as well. It didn't smell of chlorine as much, more like iron instead. Nonetheless, only after the shower did he realize what a stinky guy he had become. The clothes laid in front of the door were oversized on him. Some red, used polo shirt and cargo pants with frayed edges awaited him. Downstairs in the Kitchen, Y/N had changed into casual wear, foot already served on the table. Charles settled into the chair, staring at the provided meal. “What, you’re not hungry?” she asked him, tauntingly. “I don’t know how to eat this” he had to state.

“Look”, she said. The table was covered in two plates, each having a solid kind of bun laid on it and a pot with sausages swimming around. She took her knife, cutting a slit into the Bun. “Take the Brötchen-”, she then grabbed a fork and fished out a sausage, putting it into the ‘Brötchen’, “then put the sausage in there. "That's it.”

“Nothing else?” Charles asked, pretty confused.

“Yeah, simple meal you know. "Nothing fancy.”

“Hm.”

They ate silently, with Charles being confused at how hard that Brötchen was. He slept in the living room that night. The house didn’t have blinds but there were no street lights to keep him awake. Instead pure silence, something he never encountered anywhere. It was almost blissful - until the sun woke him up at 6AM and the birds were singing really loudly. He heard a loud mechanical noise and a cupboard clinking, then Y/N appeared in the doorway, offering a mug. “Coffee.”

The cup of coffee was hot, very nice.

“We’ll go to the electronics store to get you a phone, so that you can get your stuff in order. I can’t get you onto a plane without documents.”

“Aight.”

“Are we there soon?”

“Sorry mate, nothing’s close by.”

Driving to the electronic store took over half an hour and as they finally arrived, no grand palace was awaiting him. It was a dinky old little store, the bottom floor housing washing machines, fridges and vacuums. The upstairs was mostly TVs and DVDs, the phones tucked into the corner. Charles approached the few iPhones they had there, playing around with them.

“Dude, pick something cheaper”

"Why?" I’d just buy something that lasts.”

Y/N looked at him in annoyance. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to pay me back. That stupid phone is like a third of my monthly income. I can’t afford that.”

“A third?”, he asked in shock.

“Yeah, train attendants don’t earn much. Tickets want to be cheap right? Also…” she added. “We gotta get you a limited plan. Since you don’t have an ID, I have to be the owner. We should get a monthly one so that i can cancel it later.”

He simply agreed, settling on one heck of a cheap phone.

“Finally.” he sighed, installing his social media apps and creating a new WhatsApp profile. Contact to the outside world could be established.

“I need to call my team.”

“Please do, i bet they’re worried sick”

Charles leaned against the door as Y/N settled inside, as he heard the familiar call beep. Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in a while returned from the speaker.

“Who’s there?”, asked his friend, Andrea Ferrari.

“It’s me, Charles!”

"Charles?!" Where the fuck have you been ? We were so worried about you!”

“So fun story, i apparently took multiple trains and am now somewhere randomly in Germany. And I lost my wallet along with my phone.”

“Somewhere in Germany and no identification… Can you rent a car?”

“No, since I obviously have no ID, right?”

"Ah, shit. How’d you get a phone?”

“A train attendant took me in and bought it, but she can’t really afford more than that.”

Andrea seemed to think for a moment. “What if we send her money and she drives you back?”

“That sounds like a moronic, stupid journey…”

Shortly afterwards, Y/N made large eyes as insane amounts of cash appeared on her bank account. She didn’t believe that Charles actually was rich, especially not that he was an F1 Driver. For Ferrari as well! The Michael Schumacher Ferrari! She was quick to convince however, as a paid vacation like that sounded like a nice idea. They headed to the car dealership which also rented cars.

“Hyundai, again?” Charles complained.

Y/N just stared at him. “I know a guy there, the only spot where they won’t scam you.”

She had picked a car that looked quite similar to hers, just a bit longer with more horsepower. “I don’t like driving big cars. Want some power for the Autobahn though.” Charles whined in Response:” Can’t I drive? Pretty please? I haven't driven a car in a while~”

“Do you currently have a physical license?”

“No”

“Then shut up. I'd lose my license if we were to get caught. My car takes me to work, no options without”

He wanted to pout in response but that had quickly become not an option. The drive was sheer madness. Y/N was running on hopes and energy drinks, pushing the little car to its limit. Charles was gripping every piece of interieur he physically could as she drove at max speed for every stretch she could. Google had estimated the journey to take 13 hours, she shaved off 2 of them. He made a note of never saying that women were the calmer drivers. Blasting loud techno music that turned into a monotonous drone combined with the engine screaming as German countryside flew past him, only interrupted by gas station breaks.

Sweet, sweet silence they proved to be. A heaven of calm, shoved tightly between what most likely was an out-of-body experience.

Then, silence, white doves and heavenly goodness stopped: the return of techno. Y/N throwing the Car around Italy’s shit roads, ignoring all laws of traffic ever created. One goal in Mind: Maranello.

With the crack of dawn and the first worker’s arriving to open the doors, they saw something they had never seen in their long career. A crazed car coming to a full stop, brakes glowing hot directly in front of them. Passenger side flung open and their golden treasure stepping out. Il Predestino had returned, he had risen from the dead.

And was vomiting against a tree.

“Aren’t you F1 Drivers supposed to be tough or something?”

Charles tiredly leaned against said tree, face free of blood. “We’re tough but not tough like that. I can survive a long ass GP but not 11 hours of insanity”

The crazed driver laughed, her whole body shaking. She approached him, forcefully shaking his hand. “It was nice to get to know you, big boy. I want to go to sleep now, hit me up if you want to visit Germany again.” Y/N shoved a slip of paper between his tightly pressed fingers and walked off as an employee showed her the way. She was to stay somewhere close by as some NDAstuff needed to be handled now.

On the other side, more people were approaching. Charles' friends, the team and the media. Maybe Germany was actually a nice spot to vacation in. Without all the circus going on here. When was the winter break again?

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I pinky promise that i WILL continue this since i wrote it for my friend acexf1 over on YouTube. It's more set-up than anything rn. My other stuff is also getting continuations now!

#f1 x reader #blerb writes #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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lustylita · 2 days

Text

Soft sweet torture.

“That’s it Al, you’re such a good boy... just a bit longer.” The warm desperate laps of his eager tongue were doing absolute wonders to your core, it was so satisfying seeing the big scary Radio Demon reduced to a whimpering mess on his knees for you, ears pressed back against his hair, his tail swaying fast but most importantly – his hips pathetically rutting his thick and heavy leaking cock into the air, touch-starved and desperate for release.

“Such a needy boy today aren’t we gorgeous?” Grinding your hips against his mouth you let out a sultry laugh at his responding whine, an idea forming in your mind. “Al baby?” you call out, grin widening as he pulls away from you, eyes glassy as he looks up at you with his long slick-covered tongue still out for you to greedily look at.

He looked drunk off your essence alone, perfect. He’s learnt his lesson.

“Come here.” You scoot back on the bed, allowing him to crawl onto the bed and towards you, his eyes shining nervously at the mere thought that he might have done something wrong again, already having crossed a rule earlier, which earned him the cock-ring that was only allowing the smallest amount of pre-come to escape his desperate throbbing cock.

“Lay down my love.” You commanded him gently, knowing that now you didn’t have to be intimidating – if Alastor’s needy whines and panting wasn’t a clue as to how far into his subspace he was. Scooting to the side to allow Alastor the room to do so, you admire the swollen dark tip of his cock – you could see it throbbing from where you were, the poor buck hasn’t cummed yet. But realistically if he wasn’t such a mouthy brat and did what he was told in the first place, you wouldn’t have to punish him like this.

“What do you want, Alastor? My mouth or my hand? you don’t deserve my core, only good boys get that.” You breathe out while straddling his thighs, running a single clawed digit along the underside of his cock, enjoying the way it twitched and bounced at the slightest touch.

He wasn’t going to last long to warrant you sitting on his cock, besides? why do that when you enjoy how sweet his cum tastes?

OK OK I'm done I promise!

#alastor #hazbinhotel #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor the radio demon #alastor fanart

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 3 days

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . |Webs And All|.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

《When a Spider falls into a new world, she didn't expect it to be so.. "Batty" than the others she's been in.》

Hurriedly swinging on rooftops and walls, you gaze in awe of the night sky. Warmth filling your body as the night air floats on your suit. Taking in the night sky...

Before smog and gas cover it as you jump down on the roof top. Pouting at the loss of the clear sky as you frown.

"I forget how polluted this city is.." You grumble, going to the ledge as you place your arms on the railing. Gazing down at the city lights and billboards.

Blinking innocently at one of the paid advertisments, you squint at it curiously.

"Wayne Enter.. Prizes? Technology.." You giggle at the guy on the board. His charming smile and flirty wink was not something you've seen often for an ad for tech.

Well...

You start re-calling a few worlds that did, but with a another billionare..

"Hmm, well. That's enough day-dreaming!" You shake your body, wanting to get your jitters out before taking a deep breath... Shooting out one of your webs to a near by ledge as you run and jump off.

Feeling your body pulled downwards, you pull your web as you glide through the air. Twirling slightly as you smile underneat your mask. Laughing once more as you swing forward.

..Let's do things differently this time.

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), you were bitten by a radioactive spider..

Yet you weren't the only one.

But now.. Your on your own, though you weren't the only one.

With a fleeting glance at you, the supposed.. Dark Knight: pays you no mind. Eagerly taking down villians left and right, as the two of you finish them off together.

You were supposed to be back at HQ.

Things didn't go as planned.

You made it work, with this "new" life of yours.

Stumbling over your shoes in a hurry, you place down the box of donuts on the big fancy board meeting table. Glad that the stairwell was open, sighing in relief, you miss the eyes that watched you leave the building. While you headed to your next job!

In this Au, Spider!(Y/N) is a temp-worker and delivery girl. Just an odd young gal doing jobs around Gotham, ordinary and sweet.

She has a multiverse-watch, handmade specifcally for her by Miguel. Being one of his first recruits to the Spider Society, yet with the new Multiverse-Canon she's stuck in, the watch forms within her body to make it more acceptable to deal within the world.

Due to this, she doesn't "glitch" is the best term

"Welcome! Lord Hades!" The man dressed in a toga greeted cheerfully. You squint in confusion. Glancing at your companion as you walked closer to his side.

"Ah.. And fair Persephone, it seems you've taken form as garden spider. How quaint!" He spoke jovially as he held out a golden goblet to the two of you.

"Be serious Max! That's Batman and-"

"But Batman is a mere mortal! And what mortal has reached the summit of Olympus and survied!" Placing a hand on Batman's shoulder, the man gestured to his cup.

"Come! Brother! Unveil yourself and your bride in the nectar of the gods!"

-Batman The Animated Series 1992 Ep: Fire From Olympus

Spider!(Y/N) doesn't know Batman's idenitiy, and funny enough. He doesn't know hers, in the beginning. I'd like to think maybe down the line there's a possibility! I just think it's silly-er.

I'd like to think the dynamic between the two is Batman served as a comedic foil to Spider!(Y/N). Sorta, "brooding guy-and happy guy". Also, I like to point out, they can both can be silly in their own ways!

Just them figuring it out with Batman is hilarious in itself.

Biting into the dish, you beam in joy! It tasted so sweet! And.. Tangy, with a bit of sour. Invested with the tasty dish, you fail to notice the striking blue eyes glancing at you from a distance. Naively standing alone in your waiter uniform as you nibble on the treat.

"Ah, Mister Wayne, good to see you." Jim Gordon, dressed outside of his usual detective get-up greets. Flattening down his suit before grabbing one of the fancy champange glasses from one of the servers.

"Oh, Commissioner!" He spoke in suprise, greeting him as the two started to chat. "-And there it was... Mister Freeze and that giant lizzard."

"Dinosur." Gordan corrected.

"Whatever, doesn't make any sense. What does Victor Freeze gain by destroying a bunch of bones?" The billionare huffed.

"That's the question alright, I wish I had the answer." The Commissioner sighed, brows lowering in thought.

-Batman The New Animated Adventures 1994 Ep: Cold Comfort

[This was a small personal project for me, I had this idea since Into the Spiderverse! I would honestly love some feedback for this! I also would love to hear your guys own ideas in the aak box!]

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 days

Note

Can I ask for prompt 13, Nightmares?

Yes of course you can! Here you go!

Summary: Astarion wakes from a particularly bad nightmare, thankful that you're right there when he needs you

Astarion hates nightmares. He hates the way he’s all alone in them, running from something he can never escape. He’s always trapped, back against the wall, nowhere to go as his worst fears swallow him whole and then he wakes up with a start, gasping for air he no longer needs, eyes wild with panic.

He hates how pitiful he feels each time he wakes from a nightmare, wanting nothing but to curl up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest and cry. It makes him feel vulnerable, raw, naked, and nothing good has ever come from that.

He hates the way his skin crawls moments after he wakes, lingering ghostly imprints of the night causing bile to form in his throat and he shivers, wanting nothing more than to leave the tent but the fear that the creature of his nightmares may be waiting for him outside keeps him curled in his bedroll.

His clawed fingertips dig into the flesh of his arm, a quiet sob slipping past his lips. He feels weak, pathetic, and shrinks further into himself. He hates the trembling that follows suit, he can’t stop himself from shaking no matter how deep his claws sink in and tears continue flowing down his cheeks.

He hates how no matter how far he runs, Cazador is always there, taunting him, laughing at him, shattering his dreams. The vampire lord’s claws are always around his throat, squeezing all the air out of his undead lungs, the despicable choking feeling tearing his mind apart even though he doesn’t need to breathe anymore, the pain that explodes from where Cazador’s hands clench around his throat.

He hates hates hates hates —

“Star?” Your whisper slices through the haze, a light reaching out to him in the darkness. He whimpers in response, instinctively shifting in the direction of your voice and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.

“I’m right here, my star,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. He grips your clothes tightly, curling tighter into you as he buries his face into your chest, shoulders shaking with each sob. It breaks your heart to see him like this, curled into a fetal position, in pain and yet you can’t do anything to help.

You would do anything if it meant he would be free of all that haunts him.

Your free arm slips around his waist and you shift until your back faces the tent flap, blocking the sight of anyone who may happen past. He burrows deeper, pressing as much of himself against you as he can. You smell of warmth, safety, everything he needs right now.

“I’m right here.” You say again. You’ll say it over and over again until he fully understands and accepts what it means, no matter how long it takes. You continue threading your fingers through his hair, the rhythm soothing the vampire and his sobs begin to die down, his grip on you loosening slightly but he remains glued to you.

“Don’t leave.” His words are so soft that you barely catch them.

“Never,” you reply firmly. “Not for anything in the world, I promise.”

He keens, resting his head on your chest so that he can hear the steady pounding of your heart and suddenly he feels a little less alone in the chill of the night. It’s still cold, but at least he has your warmth to curl into when it gets too much. He can lean against you, knowing that you’ll be there to catch him should he fall.

You’ve given him so much in the short time you’ve been travelling together, more than he knows what to do with and he doesn’t know how to pay you back, or if he can even pay you back. Yet you never demand compensation for your efforts, never seeming to want anything from him, leaving him confused and lost.

Each time he wakes from his trance, he expects his side to be empty just like it usually is. He’s used to waking up all alone, picking himself from the messy sheets to clean up, feeling the coldness of the bed on the side he didn’t lie on, but ever since that night in the forest, the other side of the bed has never been cold. You’re always there when he closes his eyes and when he opens them back up again, sometimes curled into his side, sometimes wrapping him in your arms, but you’re always there, lying next to him.

It’s the only reason you know about his nightmares.

There are times when he tries to push you away, telling you to leave once you’ve done whatever it is you’ve come to his tent to do and you do leave, only to pop your head back in moments later with a lame and clearly made up on the spot excuse just so you can stay in his tent for the night. He tried forcing you to leave before but you stubbornly refused, so each time you throw him a new excuse, he simply sighs in resignation and lets you stay.

Tonight he’s glad he let you stay.

You gently rub his back, an area nobody had ever touched without causing him to feel sick until you, and he leans into the touch, yearning for something gentle. You can’t help but smile softly when he does so, noticing that he has finally calmed down and has stopped trembling.

He still buries himself in your arms, quietly pressing his forehead against your shoulder with his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder. His gaze flicks up, meeting yours for the first time since he woke up but quickly flicks back down again.

You don’t ask. You know he will tell you when he is ready and you’re more than happy to simply accompany him for what remains of the night. Still, you worry for him, this nightmare must have rattled him quite hard and you yearn to know the reason for his pain tonight but you hold yourself back. He comes first.

Astarion wordlessly tugs at your hand and you blink, confused but let him do what he wants. He slips his freezing hand into yours and you jump slightly, but quickly give him a reassuring smile when he looks at you with concern.

“Your hand is just a little cold.” You give him a gentle smile. He stares at you for a little while, as if discerning whether you are speaking the truth, before looking back down at your intertwined fingers, holding your clasped hands to his chest.

“Stay,” he pleads softly. You’re the only thing shielding him from the chill his nightmares leave behind, and he’s not sure he’ll survive the night if you leave.

“As you wish, my star.” His eyes light up at your words, a hint of gratitude in them as he curls up against you once more, still holding your intertwined hands to his chest.

“Thank you.” Those words barely scratch the surface of what he wants to tell you, but it’s all he can manage tonight, and that’s more than enough to you.

“Anytime.” With that, he drifts back into a trance to the steady rhythm of your beating heart, your warmth enveloping him. The nightmares still terrify him, but he takes comfort in knowing that should he wake up, screaming and sweating, you will be right there to pull him back to reality — the reality that he has you, always.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

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cinnasweetss · 1 day

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to love and to cherish. | l.hs

genre: smut, very minimal plot, fluff (a pinch.)

characters: husband/dad!heeseung, wife/mom!reader, “uncle”!jake at the end, seung (reader & heeseung’s son)

wc: 2.8k

content below cut. (plz read…or you’ll be v surprised…)

content: established relationship, mentions of pregnancy & marriage, domestication, reader is a stay at home mom, body insecurity, body description, SLIGHTTTT dacryphilia, lactation, love making, tit play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (hun, love, baby, etc.), praise, etc etc…

A /N: i’m experimenting in my writing (still tame imo)! this might not be everyone’s cup of tea n that’s ok <3 thanks for reading!!

"dinner looks great, hun." heeseung slides in, slipping a hand around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek. it startles you, whipping your head around to him, soft smile plastered on his face.

"Didn't hear you come in." you mumble, returning his smile before you continue the dishes. "Got you something." he pulls away, shuffling behind you, "give me a second, hee." you need to finish these dishes tonight. it'll be pain the ass tomorrow if you don't. "Did you put Seung to bed? Told you I wanted to see him, hun." he says, immediately noticing how quiet the house is tonight. lights dimmed, living room picked up and neat instead of the usual plethora of toys. "he got fussy."

"Baby, come on-" he nags, only because you have barely looked at him since he stepped in. no 'how was work, honey?' and a cheerful smile like usual.

"Give me a minute, heeseung!"

there's a long pause in the air, making you immediately regret raising your voice, dropping the plate in your hand back into the soapy water, "I'm sorry."

heeseung told you to not let it get like that. he told you to not stress yourself out when you both found out you were pregnant. he knew this would happen. it was inevitable. but you promised him. "Look at me."

"Oh, hee..." you immediately soften, face falling into your hands once you see the beautiful, huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. he sets the bouquet down on the island, quickly moving to wrap his arms around your crying figure. you quickly accept the embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Why are you crying?" he chuckles, rubbing his hand on your back soothingly. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, love." he pulls you off of him, wiping away your tears. "so pretty." he leans in to kiss you, using his thumbs to wipe the rest of the stray tears.

Heeseung is so good to you. he always has been. when you met him six years ago, when you married him three years ago, and when you gave him his firstborn a year and a half ago. his love has been unconditional, unwavering, always consistent. all you could ask for and more.

"I told you not to stress yourself out. You can ask me for help." he's smiling, despite your continued tears. you feel so awful. "But you're working-" he stops you there, "so are you, love." he knows that being a stay at home mom is a lot, a lot more demanding than his silly little corporate job. "what are you handwashing the dishes for, anyway? we've got a dishwasher."

"cause, it's a lot to run it..." he sighs, face shifting to a scowl. he hates when you talk about the price of things, bills, anything with money. "It's not, and that's not for you to worry about." it's firm, almost scolding. but you know it's just because of the many times he's had to tell you to not worry about the bills. not that you've seen one in years.

"Get in bed. I'll finish up." he pulls away then, moving to the sink. you scurry behind him, grabbing a vase to put the flowers in. "Bed, babe. I'll do that too."

"let me warm up your food-" he doesn't have to say much, turning with a dissatisfied expression across his face as he leans on the counter. "Get upstairs." you know better than to argue after the third time, so, you do as told.

...

he joins you just an hour later, walking in on you fumbling with the baby monitor, making sure it's on and working before you set it on the bedside table. he eyes you, wet hair stuck to your shoulders and neck, saturating the t shirt you have on.

he grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bathroom. he places you infront of the mirror, reaching for the hair dryer in the cabinet. "Did you even towel dry it? you're soaking."

"Thought I heard Seung crying..." you mumble, heeseung running a brush through your hair. "That hairdryer- Dyson. it's so expensive. you won't even use it."he grabs a towel, gently drying each lock of your hair, then your neck and shoulders.

"I do use it!" five times since he got it for you during Christmas. You'd brought it up maybe once, showing him a video on TikTok of some influencer using it. it was probably the millionth video you'd showed him. still, he paid attention. "Sometimes." he agrees, flashing you a playful smile in the mirror.

"you don't have work to do?" you look at him through the mirror, squeezing the water out of your hair with the towel. "Work? While i'm at home with my wife?" he turns on the hairdryer after, running it over your now damp hair.

this week he's been coming home without his laptop. spending almost no time in his office downstairs, instead getting into bed with you every night after work.

you hadn't said it out loud, but he knew you were bothered by sleeping first. sleeping next to an empty space that he only filled from the hours of 1am to 6am. disappearing into his office right after dinner. you continue watching him through the mirror, fond smile on you lips as he finishes. his eyes catch yours, mouthing a playful "what?" before he shifts his eyes back to your hair.

he turns off the hair dryer, using a brush to smooth out the now dry hair. he guides you out the bathroom, stopping you in front of your shared dresser.

reaching for the bottom of your tee, he pulls it up, only stopping when you step back and push his hands away. "come on, you gotta get out of this. it's wet."

"I'll do it." "Babe, really."

you surrender at that, raising your arms so he can lift your shirt above your head and get you a new one. Only he has his gaze locked on yours...trying to remember the last time he was intimate with you. the last time he saw you undressed. you notice his expression change, unfamiliar glint in his eyes.

had it really been that long?

"What, hee? you're staring..." you ask worriedly, afraid he might not like what he sees. you damn sure don't look like the woman he married, not after having his child.

each time you look in the mirror you're reminded, each time you look at your wedding pictures, each time you get naked infront of him, each time you look at your son.

your arm lays against your chest, holding your breasts as you reach for another shirt. Heeseung's way quicker, grabbing your arm before you can reach it. "Wait."

his lips are on yours seconds later, pulling your body flush against his, trapping you in a very passionate kiss.

you know what he wants when he kisses you like that. when he pulls you in by your waist and holds your cheek with one hand. when he lifts you up and takes you bed, placing you against the mattress softly. your stomach flutters with excitement, eager to experience a different type of intimacy with him.

he pulls away, pulling at his tie with one hand and letting it fall to the ground, undoing a few buttons of his shirt after.

he connects your lips again as wall as your groins, grinding softly through kisses. it's enough to get you worked up, moaning into the kiss when he gropes at a tit.

he gives it some love with his mouth too, sucking one and squeezing the other. its enough to stimulate your ducts, breasts tingling as they secrete milk. he purposely squeezes a nipple, milk spilling from the ducts, as you squirm beneath him. his skilled hands force a moan from you, his tongue swirling as he sucks, likely making your other breast leak too.

his hips rut against yours, grunting at the little bit of friction it gives. he's gotta get out of these slacks, and fast. he pulls his mouth away, kissing down your chest and abdomen, paying special attention to those areas he knows youre insecure about.

your lower belly that's riddled with stretch marks and hips that look the same from carrying his child. he wouldn't trade you for the world, not when you've given him the best gift on gods earth. a family.

he pulls your night shorts down with one motion, doing the same with your panties before he spreads your legs. his kisses move to your thighs, stopping when he reaches your core. he moves your hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling before you. "Fuck.." he feels his mouth water just looking, pushing your legs before he dips his head between your thighs.

six years and every time feels like the first. six years and neither of you can get enough.

he always takes his time, soft kisses against your pussy to start, soft licks against your clit when he slides his tongue through your folds, huge hands that knead at the flesh of your thighs to stimulate you even more. he gradually moves to sucking, tongue flat against the little bundle of nerves, forcing moan from you.

your eyes flutter closed, sinking further into the mattress as you reach for his hands.

your fingers intertwine perfectly, much like they did the first time you two met in college. he was sweet then, he's even sweeter now. always, always so compassionate and caring, even more since you've gotten married.

he watches from between your legs. eyes shut, brows furrowed, mouth agape as you let out the prettiest moans. matching the pretty expression you have.

he knows you like the back of his hand, sucking your clit just how you like it. your back arching off the bed tells him so. especially when you remove a hand from his, sliding it through his hair instead to swirl your hips.

"oh, god- hee!"

he can hear your breath quickening. short and shallow through endless curses as your orgasm builds. "fuck, baby, i'm cumming!" it hits you like a truck, heeseung moaning as you cum right on his tongue, nothing else. holding your hips steady so he can eat you through it. through the soft convulsions and quiet moans, hands that grip his and his hair.

heeseung finally pulls his lips way, rising from the floor with lips coated in your arousal. he doesn't lick them, keeps them wet and moist so he can lean down and kiss you. he's letting you taste yourself as well, sliding his tongue past your lips to give you sloppy, wet kisses.

you pull at his button up, pulling it from his slacks, moving to remove his belt right after. you pull away from the kiss, pulling at the buttons with frantic hands. "help me, hee..." you mumble, looking up at the man above you. he forces you both up, reaching to unbutton his pants as you work on those damn buttons.

"take your time, darlin'. Im not going anywhere." he kisses your forehead gently, capturing your lips again once you finish. you push his shirt off his shoulders, only satisfied when you hear it make contact with the wood flooring below. "tell me how you want me." you barely manage to get out between kisses. he doesn't respond for a minute, focusing on kissing you before he makes up his mind.

"bend over." he pants, catching his breath from the very heated kiss. you do as instructed, turning around to bend over for him. his hands immediately attach to your hips, one hand pressing against the small of your back, guiding you into position. "Arch that back, yeah..." he pulls you back against his dick, hard length sitting right between your ass. he retracts, sliding his length through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

you can feel him line himself up with your entrance, head of his cock just barely penetrating, pausing before he decides to fully slip inside. a soft cry leaves you, leaning yourself away from the intrusion that has your walls stretching. "Uh-ah, keep that back arched for me baby." that makes you whine, forcing yourself back into position as he pulls you right back on his cock. "Good girl..." he coos, hand rubbing softly against your back to soothe you, legs already trembling just from him sliding in.

he takes you painfully slow, pulling half his length out, pushing it back in, in a long drawn out movement. his eyes are stuck right where you suck him back in, despite your little noises that tell him you're struggling with it. he barely has to move his hips, you're pushing back on him likely without even realizing.

"Fuck," his dick is soaked, coated in your wetness, glistening in the soft light coming from your bedside lamp. He grabs both hips, taking over your soft and cautious movements, replacing them with his own. Still slow, but much deeper, holding your ass to his hips each time he pushes himself back in.

"Taking it so good, baby." heeseung doesn't know why you're always so caught up in your own thoughts. each time he fucks you like this, you forget all about your silly little insecurities. It's all proof of the woman you are today, anyway. the mother and wife he's built within you.

"Hee..." you reach a hand back to hold his, heeseung quickly pinning your arm behind your back, hand clasped within yours. His movements increase, throwing his own head back as your body drives him to near madness. you sink further down, hand knitting into the soft fabric of your cream coloured duvet.

so deep, so big. he's hitting all the right spots, bending over you to reach and grab a tit. he squeezes at the flesh, mouth steady kissing on your shoulder as he fucks you near completion. the both of you. "fuck, baby! harder!" nothing but a word, he happily obliges. he's been waiting for you to say it since he started. "Yeah?" his breaths shallow and short as he fucks into you harder, a loud moan of approval from you forcing a smirk on his lips. "Yes! god, heeseung!" from his lips on your neck, to the way his balls repeatedly slap against your clit, you're already there before you realise. "Like that, yeah, let it out."

you grab at his flexed arms beside you, crying out as you both ride out your orgasm together. Heeseung's hips stutter as cums inside you, sloppy uncoordinated thrusts pushing more waves of pleasure through you. "Shit." He blinks through the haziness coursing through his body, only pulling out when both of your breaths return to normal.

you stay even when heeseung leaves, relaxing your body against the bed. he comes back, turning you back over so he can clean you up, laying next to you right after.

comfortable silence fills the air, heeseung pulling you into his arms when you snuggle up close. "I love you, hee."

"I love you more, baby."

...

"Say hi!" you grab your sons arm, waving at the man in the doorway. "My big man! Say hi to uncle Jake." he takes the baby from your arms, bouncing him in his. "Where's your dad, big man? always leaving mommy to do the work, huh?" you move to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker for heeseung.

"Dad is doing laundry." Heeseung emerges, passing Jake the diaper bag. You furrow your brows at that, heeseung hadn't said anything about Jake taking Seung. "Morning." he slips behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Seung is-"

"You need a break." he quickly interjects, eyebrows raising when you don't immediately respond. "What? You don't wanna spend some time with me?" it's sly, the way his hand slips under your shirt to grab the soft flesh of your ass. "I was the only man in your life at one point, you know." he smiles, moving his hand back to a more appropriate position. "Whatever." you laugh, eyes shifting over to Jake who's preoccupied with your son. You slip past heeseung, going to say your goodbyes. "Thanks, Jake. You really-"

Heeseung's familiar hiss of disapproval stops you. Jake simply laughing, "It's all good. My girlfriend wants to see him anyway. she calls it playing 'house'."

"Marry her and have your own, dude." heeseung comes over, kissing his son’s cheek. "Yeah, yeah." he's always dismissive when the topic comes up, but you know he's just waiting on the right time. "I'll take off then." Jake smiles at the both you before he makes his way to the front door. Heeseung pulls you in as you both wave Jake and your son goodbye.

"Let's have another one."

#cinnasweetss #enhypen #smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #lee heesung x reader #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #sim jake #enhypen jake #enhablr #enha smut #enhypen x reader #cinnasweetss: tltc

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 days

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Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (1 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part two here.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 13.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, mentions of sexual frustrations, lots of sexual tension, like one smidgen of dry humping, embarrassing crushes, kissing/making out, awkward situations, play fighting, lots of friendly teasing, drinking, smoking, partying, swearing, a touch of angst, lots of fluff, sorry if i miss any! (stick around for part two for the rest 😉)

hi lovelies, I had a blast writing this! part two obviously is the more climactic part, but I hope you enjoy this for now. The next one should be out soon 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The summer sun was blinding, irritating your eyes as you shielded them with your hand. Your skin was warm, the cool pool water long forgotten and the droplets dried into a distant memory. The drink sitting in the cup holder of your patio chair was condensated, the ice inside melting the longer you sat, and the music blaring through your speaker was playing a song you hadn’t heard in a long time. The moment was perfect, the summer day exactly what you had dreamed of in the slump of work that only ever seemed to grow larger. What made it even better was the crowd of boys sitting poolside, their feet in the water and beer bottles in their hands.

As you sipped at your straw, you watched as one of them stood, the water running from his legs onto the brand new concrete panels on the ground. You looked upwards, your eyes settling on his face as he turned away from his brothers and took a step in your direction. His brown hair hung over his shoulders, framing his face and blowing softly in the barely-there breeze. You couldn’t help but feel your lips turn upwards into a smile as he continued on his path, standing in front of you and casting a shadow over your chair.

“The sun looks good on you, you know.” He said, his hands anchored on his hips as he gazed down upon your lax position in the chair.

“What does that mean, Jacob?” You raised an eyebrow, looking over the top your sunglasses at him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips too, and you could see his skin of his chest and shoulders beginning to redden from the constant sunlight touching it.

“It means you look better in the sun than you do behind an office desk.” He continued, pushing an identical chair closer to you with his leg. He stopped when the arm collided with yours, sending the ice in your drink clinking against the plastic cup. He sat down, turning his head to look at you before speaking again. “It means we have to do this more often.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. You rested your head against the wooden back of the chair, taking in a long breath. The summer air was sweet, lingering with the scent of the blossoming flowers Jake had helped you plant by the doorway just a few days prior. When the wind blew just right, you were hit in the face with his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the last bit of sunscreen that refused to wash away after his pool escapades. The scent was familiar, it was comfortable, and it made you think of home.

“Makes me think you’re forgetting about me, sometimes.”

“Forgetting about you?” You scoffed, chuckling at the idea alone. “As if I could do that even if I wanted to. And how does that make any sense? You’re here every fuckin’ day anyway.” At that, he let out a laugh, one that shook his shoulders and echoed through the air.

“Yeah, but hanging out with you is much different than listening to you talk on a boring conference call from across the room.” He brought the cap of his beer to the edge of the arm on his chair. After a few seconds spent positioning it correctly, he slammed his hand down on top of it. The cap popped off, clanging down on the concrete, and bubbles overflowed from the neck of the bottle. With a mischievous smile, he flicked his hands towards you. You jumped in surprise as the cold liquid hit your warm skin, sending him a glare that spoke louder than any words. “You moved halfway across the country so you could be near us again, and all you do is work.”

“Mhm,” you let out a hum, your lips pressed tightly together as you wiped away the droplets of beer from your chest. “You travel all over the world for months at a time, but you don’t hear me complain about it.” He shot you an incredulous look, shaking his head in disbelief that you would even say such a thing.

“Yeah, I do actually. Every minute of every day that I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You dismissed him, closing your eyes as you fought back a smile.

“I can pull up the texts if you’d like,” he said, reaching for the patio table on the other side of you to grab his phone. As he did, you grabbed his wrist, holding his hand back so he could not proceed any further. “And the phone calls.” He let out a long breath, upping his extravagance to bring extra attention to his point. He didn’t cower under your hold, but he didn’t try to move again. “It always goes something like—‘oh, Jake, when are you coming home? I miss you so much’ or ‘only three more sleeps!’” He put on an airy, high pitched voice as he recounted the things you said to him most often.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to do this?” You asked, sitting up in your chair and turning towards him. “You don’t want me to start.” You warned, still holding his wrist tightly in your hand.

“Oh, yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed. “What about you? Calling me at three in the morning ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, or when you have a little too much to drink and you miss the sound of my voice?”

“Yeah, like I’d miss the sound of your annoying little ‘Jacob Kiszka’s’! You’re worse than my mom when you call!” He put an extra flair on his voice as he imitated you, striking a flame of annoyance within you.

“Maybe if you’d behave yourself when you’re gone, I wouldn’t have to—“

“Hey!” Josh shouted, turning his head back towards the two of you. “Stop fighting with each other. You’re ruining the vibes.” He motioned to the still, blue water of the pool, illuminated with sun rays.

“He started it.” You grumbled, letting go of his arm and pushing it away from yourself at the same time.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Josh snipped, taking a sip of his drink. “Worse than children, the two of you.” He let out a disappointed tsk.

“Yes, mom.” You hung your head low with faux shame.

“Sorry, mom.” Jake joined, copying your actions. When Josh turned back to the pool, you could see Jake peeking over at you through the strands of his hair. You bit down on the inside of your lip, stifling the laugh that was rising in your throat. Then, in a hushed whisper, you could hear a grating sound coming from his lips. When you strained to listen, you could he him muttering words, mocking his twin brother for his inability to have fun.

The laugh that tore from your chest was loud, irritating, and disruptive to everyone sitting in the immediate vicinity. Your shoulders shook and your stomach ached from the laughter coursing through you. Josh whipped his head back around, his eyes settling on Jake with a scowl on his lips.

“Is he making fun of me? I know he’s making fun of me.” Josh huffed, ready to argue worse than what the two of you were doing moments before.

“No, Josh. Pinky promise that nobody was making fun of you.” You gave him a sweet smile, sipping at your straw.

“You always take his side!” Josh accused, still joking but spewing some truth about the situation.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!” You defended, raising your hands in the air.

“F’course you are, ‘cause your in love with him!” Josh grumbled, frustrated at your constant insistence on having Jake’s back and not his.

“I am not!” You exploded, looking to the chair beside you. Jake was unbothered by the thought, amused by the situation unfolding before his eyes, and happy the attention was off him and on you, instead.

“Are too!” Sam joined in, using his foot to reel in one of the pool floaties. As he did, he slid from the poolside on top of the tube. After he situated himself, he pushed himself away from the side and floated to the middle of the water.

“Do you hear yourselves? Are you insane?” You fought off the accusations like your life depended on it, your cheeks burning red and your stomach twisted with embarrassment.

You weren’t sure why it was such a sore subject, but every time they spoke the idea into existence, your whole body felt like it would explode if you didn’t get yourself out of the spotlight.

“Look at her, she’s blushing.” Daniel cackled, his head turned just enough to see your face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jake cut in, realizing that you were more uncomfortable than they thought. “Josh, you’re just mad she broke up with you in the third grade. Let it go, man.” Jake said, watching as Josh’s expression dropped into one of great confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His lips dipped into a frown, then he turned back towards the pool, lifting himself off the ground by his arms and sinking into the water.

Even if the other three knew they were in the right, they were never a match for the two of you when you joined forces against them.

When everyone distracted themselves with drinks and swimming, easily moving on from the moment of torment, Jake reached his arm out to you. He brushed the hair away from your shoulders, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck. The touch was calming, and when his fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gently scratching over your head, you nearly forgot what had you upset in the first place. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned back into the chair.

“They’re just being assholes, trouble.” The nickname fell from his lips, smooth like silk and sweet as sugar. You could listen to him call you that all day and you were certain you would never get tired of it. “They don’t mean it, they just like to get under your skin.”

“I know.” You hummed, lost in the feeling of his hand on your neck. “Just don’t like it when they team up on me, is all. I know they’re just joking.”

And you did; they had been joking about the same thing since the summer before freshman year of high school, when you had spent every single day following Jake around like a second shadow. It would have hurt you more had he not been doing the exact same thing to you, and it would have been unbearable if you actually did feel that way about him. Back then, you laughed it off, and so did he. Both of you knew the notion was incredibly incorrect, and neither of you were too concerned about the constant teasing that came along with having a best friend of the opposite sex in a small town during your high school years.

In fact, nothing really bothered you much. There was nothing in the world that seemed to be able to tear the two of you apart, and no rumors or suspicious whispers ever changed the dynamics of your relationship. He was your best friend, and to this day, the simple fact remained the same. After a fateful encounter at the soccer field at the school on a warm July morning, the two of you got to know each other beyond what’s expected of familiar faces. You realized you had a whole hell of a lot in common, and within seconds, you realized that friendship with Jake Kiszka was a prized possession you never wanted to give up.

You knew each other beforehand, seeing each other in class and of course, the disastrous heartbreak of his twin brother in the fall of third grade (the relationship only lasted two weeks, but he really liked you), but never explored the possibilities of friendship until that summer.

Since then, you had never known anything else.

You spent days in his bedroom, watching him (poorly) play the new guitar his dad bought for him and watching movies that would quickly turn into memories that served you great comfort. He would walk your dog with you, and occasionally get ice cream with you at the corner store down the street when you both managed to scrape together enough change. When the school year started, you were his crutch for academics, and he was your’s for anything social. Before him, you didn’t have many friends, and the idea of high school always struck a sensitive nerve within you. With him by your side, you never felt like you had to worry about a thing. He held your hand through your first (real) heartbreak, and you helped him practice asking out girls to the school dances.

As you grew older, life changed, but never your friendship. Summers were the same, only with a little more freedom. You went on road trips when you felt your third-hand car could survive it, and got your older brother to buy you booze for house parties. You dated plenty of people, but none of the relationships ever lasted. Plenty of tears were shed, lots of memories were made, and one thing forever remained constant; his presence in your life, and his unwavering support. He wiped away the tears, shared the bottle of vodka, and always knew where to find you when a slow song came over the loudspeaker so he could get at least one dance in at the parties.

It was a relationship everyone yearned for, yet not many got to enjoy. It was a love that was never broken, and one that was never misused. It was the knowledge of never being alone, and knowledge that you never had to fall, because there would always be someone to catch you. More importantly, it was knowing that even if you did fall, and if you fell as far as rock bottom, he would wait beside you until you were back on your feet. You loved Jake for many things, but his support was unlike anything else. He always let you feel your way, figure it out yourself before he tried to fix it for you. He encouraged you to stand, rather than picking you up. It allowed you to learn, to make mistakes you needed to, but you never had to do it alone.

Jake Kiszka was the kind of person everyone wanted in their life, and you were the one lucky enough to have him around. It was a constant reminder to appreciate him, but it was also a constant question of what you ever did to deserve him.

The love carried you through to the very end of senior year, and all the way to a bittersweet goodbye. All of the support you had given to each other encouraged you enough to follow your dreams. The only downside was that your dreams could not happen overnight, and you could not complete them alongside each other. You loved each other so much that it forced you away from each other, but you both knew that staying together in fear of losing would only make you lose even more.

With teary eyes, he stood outside your car that was packed with your whole life, holding you in his arms until the very last second. With a kiss on the head, he sent you across the country with a reminder that he would always be your biggest fan, even if he was not there to tell you. You drove for hours, remembering the sight of the four boys waving you off at the end of your driveway, and did not stop until you landed in front of a dorm room and you were too exhausted to shed another tear.

You drive home on holidays, spending as much time with him as you could, but time was a thief, and you never had as much time as you wanted. Every visit home, and with every road trip across the country he took to see you, things were different. Never love, but life. He was older, his hair longer and his face prettier (how, you did not know). He watched as university tried and failed to beat you down, and you watched as his biggest dreams began to come true. As beautiful as it was, the distance was a killer. You hated seeing him show up at your door, just slightly different than he looked the last time. You were tired of going home and realizing how much had changed.

When you graduated, he was living in Nashville, just signed on by a bigger label and preparing to travel the world. Still, despite his growing popularity and never ending excitement, he never forgot about you. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a single suitcase, RSVPing the invitation as soon as he received it. He spent four days with you, laughing and crying, staying up until odd hours of the morning in an attempt to cling to the memory just a little longer. He told you he was going to start touring, and that he was scared he would lose you. You laughed and shook your head, knowing you would call and text him every spare minute you had.

Distance tried hard to tear the two of you apart the first time, and was determined to do it the second. Thankfully the two of you were strong enough to withstand it, and you knew that no matter how hard the years tried to change you, one thing remained certain; Jake would always be your best friend, no matter how far away he was.

You settled in Oregon for a few years, working outside with the environmental science degree you had bled for. He continued to travel the world, playing stages for thousands of people and releasing music he’d dreamed of writing since he was old enough to walk. You called, texted, and every now and again, visited each other. Life was good, simple and fun, but it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea why it felt that way, until you broke down on the phone with Jake as you confessed how badly you missed him.

That’s when things began to change.

He showed up, 85 hours later and running on zero sleep. With little plans and no real answer to your problems, he appeared at your front door, willing to do anything he could to take away the ache in your chest. It was a night full of tears, both of you drunk off wine and the feeling of being together again. In your bed in a run-down one bedroom apartment, he asked you to move to Nashville. After years of keeping silent, he admitted to how bad it was to be away from you. He offered you a place to stay and help looking for a job, and anything you could ever possibly need so long as you were living in the same city as him.

At first, you laughed.

Three weeks later, he flew back to Oregan with his brothers in tow and helped you pack up your life all over again.

This time, for good.

His brothers flew back to Nashville after the brunt of the work was done, but he stayed so he could drive with you. Standing in the driveway of the apartment complex where you had spent the last two years of your life, things seemed the same as they always did. You and your best friend against the world, ready to face a whole new and exciting chapter. As soon as he got behind the wheel of the car, assuring you he would drive the first half of the way, it was different.

Jake was not your childhood best friend who you shared scraped knees and melting ice cream cones with. He wasn’t the boy who used to play guitar for you in his parents basement, nor was he the one who walked your dog with you on those hot summer days. He was a man who was willing to drop everything in his (extremely) busy life to travel halfway across the country to make you happy. He was a man who was more beautiful than you could remember, and he was a man you were willing to drop your entire life for just to be with him again.

He was the same person, and so were you, but this time, everything changed.

You were in love with him, and so impossibly so that it made your head spin and your stomach sick.

You made a vow to secrecy, knowing if he ever found out, the world would never be the same. Losing him was not something you were ever willing to consider, because he was the only constant you ever had in the ever-changing world. For six months, you bargained with the feelings while sleeping in his spare room (some nights) and ate dinner with him at his kitchen table. Most of the time, especially at the beginning, you fell asleep in his bed while you watched terribly filmed and scripted YouTube documentaries in his bed, and you woke up with his arm slung across your waist and his head buried in your neck. You tried to tell yourself that with time, the fleeting feeling would pass and you would consider yourself ridiculous for ever thinking you felt that way about him, but that time never came. When he left for tour, gone for weeks at a time, you missed him more terribly than you ever had despite living in his home with his memory seared into every corner.

The reunions were sweeter, the hugs longer and the warmth in your heart larger than ever before. It was a dangerous game to play, because it was so hard to keep it to yourself. You knew that if things continued the way they had been going, you’d be forced down on one knee with a ring in your hand, begging for marriage.

So, a reluctant conversation surfaced after the third night in a row you had fallen asleep next to him. It was not the conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed to have. You sat him down, telling him with faux happiness that you had enough money to put a down payment on a house a few blocks away. You expected him to rejoice, to celebrate the victory of home ownership with you and jump to help you move out, but he did none of those things. Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile on his face after he cleared his throat. He gave one, firm nod and reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He said, his sadness equal to a punch in the stomach. “I would have let you live here forever, you know. I never wanted you to move out.”

You had so many questions, ones that you did not know if you wanted an answer to. You looked down at his hand in yours, wondering how you had gotten yourself in such a position. You had fallen for the one person you knew you shouldn’t, and you couldn’t bear the thought of the consequences, which is why you forced yourself to buy the fixer-upper, anyway.

Had you gotten it wrong? Did he feel the same as you did?

You were too cowardly to ask, and a month later, you had enlisted the help of the four boys to renovate a house you weren’t even that keen on living in. With five of you, the work was pretty fast, but that was the worst part of it all. After seeing Jake’s reaction to you telling him you were moving out, you wanted to stay, to drag the renovations out for as long as humanly possible, but you knew they would catch on. Instead of dwelling on all of the things you should have said, you focused on what you were going to have. Luckily, the house renovations were mostly aesthetic, and it was done within a few weeks. By the end of it, you were excited to have something of your own to do whatever you pleased with.

Then, Jake had to suggest a fucking pool.

You were happy, content with having everything finished and being moved in (and more importantly, moved out of his house). Things finally seemed to go back to normal, no waking up next to a boy who made your heart beat a little too fast, and no dinners bordering too close to romance.

But it was boring, and you made the mistake of complaining about it.

“It’ll be a great housewarming gift, y/n.” He said, his arms outstretched as a shit-eating grin encased his (infuriatingly) beautiful face.

“Jacob, I don’t need a pool. Besides, I spent all of my money tearing out the carpet and buying the ‘real’ wooden panel flooring that Sam insisted I needed.” You argued, looking down at the expensive flooring with a scowl on your lips. “Stupid fuckin’ wood.”

“That was your fault for listening to Sam in the first place!” He exclaimed, looking around the empty living room. “And besides, do you even know what a gift is? It means someone gives it to you, because they bought it.”

“You’re not buying me a pool, Jacob Kiszka.”

“You’re right,” he gave a slow nod, looking at the fenced in backyard through the large living room windows. “I’m not going to buy you a pool. I’m going to pay a bunch of men to build one!”

Turns out that building a pool is much more costly than he previously anticipated. You figured he would scrap the idea entirely and just buy you an inflatable kiddie pool on your birthday to keep true to his word. You would have been fine with it —no, you would have been more than happy with it. You weren’t sure you could accept such a grandois show of affection from a man you were trying so hard not to have feelings for, but you knew better than to expect the bare minimum from Jake. In the ten or so years of knowing him, he had never stooped as low as the bare minimum.

So he suggested the two of you do the brunt of the work together, then he would pay someone to do the rest.

The issue was, neither of you had any idea how to build a pool (or start to, for that matter) and that entailed a surplus of quality time that you moved out specifically to avoid.

But, you had never been able to say no to Jake, especially when his eyes grew soft and his bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Puppy dog eyes were your kryptonite, and from him, you were sure it would be your demise.

After a few weeks of digging up ground and clearing your backyard, the area was finally sufficient to hire someone to finish the job. Not long after that, the concrete was poured and set, and soon enough, what used to be a grassy patch had become a pool that was much more expensive than you ever could have afforded.

“This is too much, Jake. I can never even begin to repay you for this.” You said, a hand on your head as your facial features twisted with stress. It was stunning, inviting, and your favourite part of the entire home, and it was all thanks to him.

“You don’t need to repay me, trouble. I wanted to do it.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into his side. The action made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. “Do you know how fun it’s going to be? We can get Sam some arm floaties and Josh a life jacket, then we can have so many pool parties.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the blue water.

“I ask myself the same thing about you, every day.” His hand on your upper arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke. “You dropped your entire life to move to Nashville, Y/N, just so we could be together again. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” You turned your head upwards, looking over his face. His head was already turned down and he seemed to have been staring at you for some time.

“I love you, Jake.” You mumbled, giving him a smile. If only he knew how true the words really were.

“I told you a pool was a great idea, trouble.” Jake said, clearly trying to take your mind off Josh’s teasing. You crossed your arms over your chest, the still-damp material of your bikini top sticking to your dry skin as you did so.

“I’m not going to say it, Jake.” You huffed, standing your ground. He’d been trying to get you to tell him he was right since the day the pool was finished, but you had bit your tongue and held back every time. “Your head is big enough as is. No need for me to inflate your ego even more.”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to be?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes silently begged you to retract the rude statement.

“That’s how I’m going to be, yeah.” You nodded, unwilling to back down. “What’s it to you?”

“You know, I’ve always been so nice to you, and I’m just supposed to take this abuse?” He continued, making a move to stand. He sat his beer on the table on the opposite side of you, raising to his feet with a slight sway. You could tell the summer heat was mixing with the alcohol in his system, and he was feeling good. In truth, you weren’t far behind him in the drunken race.

“Yeah, I’m just the worst, Jake. I’m so mean to you.” You laughed, looking up at him as he stood over you. His shadow casted a chill over you, making you realize you hadn’t moved from the sun soaked seat in hours.

“You said it, not me.” He said, his hands on his hips as he continued to tower over you. “Are you going to take it back?”

“Fuck no!” You laughed, placing your drink beside you in case he made any sudden moves that caused a spill. “I’m not going to tell you that you were right, and I’m not going to take it back. You have an ego problem, Jacob, and I think it’s time you realized it. You don’t have to be right all of the time.” The sass in your tone was completely humorous, used only to irritate him further.

Even as you two found yourself in a mock-fight, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the picture before you. His sun-kissed skin was glowing under the rays, and his dark hair was tousled perfectly after it had dried from his pool escapades. There was a slight wave to it, and the wind was blowing it away from his face. His shirtless chest was catching your attention, but not nearly as much as the peek of a v-line from his swim trunks, and the patch of hair under his belly button leading to the hem of the fabric. Your heart sped as you remembered what it felt like with his chest pressed to your back and his hand resting on your hip while he was sleeping away the earliest hours of the morning.

Either he did not notice your staring, or he did and he opted not to call you out on it. You were happy either way, because not even being caught staring at Jake was an embarrassment anymore. It happened so often that you felt odd when your eyes weren’t on him. Before you could digest his eyes on you in the same way, he was leaning down with outstretched arms. With ease, one of his arms slid around your lower back. He shifted to the side, hooking his other arm under your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the chair. You let out a shriek of discontent, knowing exactly where his mind was as he straightened himself up. Now that he was holding you, he seemed all the more steady on his feet, almost as if he was terrified to drop you.

“Jacob Kiszka, do not throw me in that pool or I swear to god—“

“Or what?” He mocked you, cutting you off as he took two steps away from the chair. Your arms slung around his neck, holding on tightly as he clambered closer to the poolside. “What are you gonna do, trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be good!” You fought against his hold, trying to shake out of his grasp and land back on your feet.

“Oh, I’m so scared!” He laughed, his feet now at the very edge of the pool. “Say it, trouble! Last chance!”

“Never!” You fought back, feeling your body already tense in anticipation of the cold water on your skin.

“Throw her, Jake!” Josh cheered in the background, lingering in the deep end by the side so he avoided the splash zone. He was laughing at the sight of the two of you, always amidst some kind of argument. Jake looked over his shoulder at his brother, smirking at the encouragement.

Josh had a knowing look in his eye, his feelings completely unspoken but apparent to the boy standing over the pool. He knew, just as well as Danny and Sam did. Even as Jake tried to play it cool, and as you deflected every accusation, love completely surrounded the two of you wherever you went.

“Josh, what the hell! You’re supposed to be on my side!” You pleaded, frantic for someone to stop him before he let go.

“Do it, Jake!” Danny yelled over the sound of your voice, laughing as he watched your head whip towards him.

“You guys fucking suck-“ before you could finish your angry sentiments, you felt Jake’s arms move upwards. You took in a sharp breath, holding it as you prepared yourself for him to follow through with throwing you in the water.

But, you had always been the one to get the last laugh.

As he tossed you forward, you tightened your arms around him. As your body pulled away from his, your arms stayed locked behind him, causing him to stumble with the force he’d thrown you with. You heard a laugh leave his lips as your ass touched the surface of the pool, and not long after you were fully submerged in the water. You were barely able to contain your laughter when Jake fell into the water on top of you. When you swam to the surface, you noticed that he did not join you. You looked down into the water, nervous that you might have hurt him, but you did not have to think of it for very long; his hands reached for your thighs as he swam towards you, and with one strong motion, he pulled you back under the water again.

Smiling and holding your breath, you tried your best to fight his hold. After a few seconds of a futile attempt, he loosened his grip and the both of you resurfaced. With his arms still around you and his hair covering his face, he guided you towards the shallow end before he pulled you into his chest. His breathing was ragged, still recovering from the minutes underwater. You relaxed against him, finding yourself breathless for a whole different reason.

“Good one, trouble.” He muttered, pushing his hair away from his face. The water droplets streaming down his cheeks only made him all the more inviting, and his hand on your barely clothed hip was driving you crazy. He reached out, brushing the stray hairs away from your face, in no hurry to move away from you.

“The pool was a good idea, Jake.” You whispered, smiling at him. His lips parted slightly as he tried to process what you were saying to him, and after a few seconds, you saw his eye twitch as he held back a grin.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He said, turning his head to the side so his ear was closer to your mouth.

“Don’t make me say it again.” You groaned, but you were still smiling despite your annoyance.

“Just one more time?” He pleaded, his fingers tightening on your hip as he asked. It was absent minded, almost as if it was natural for him to touch you so intimately. He didn’t even seem to think twice about it, and he certainly didn’t seem keen on breaking the hold.

“Fine,” you huffed, unable to deny the man of anything he asked for. “You were right about the pool.”

“Sorry, trouble. Can you speak up? I really can’t hear you.” He said, a laugh stuck in his throat as he continued the bit.

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at him.

“—I’m not paying a delivery fee when I have two working legs!” Your attention was drawn to the poolside yet again, and as you looked past Jake to see what the commotion was about, you could have sworn you felt Jake move to be just a little bit closer to you. “Can you think? Do you ever use your head?” Sam continued, flicking Josh on the forehead to solidify his stance on the matter. Josh swatted his hand away, clearly annoyed with his actions but trying to keep his composure.

“Ten dollars is really going to kill you? Ten fucking dollars?” Josh fought back, his eyebrows knitted together similar to how Jake’s looked when he was upset. Jake turned fully, sliding his arm around you so he did not have to lose contact while he watched his brothers argue. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar swarm of butterflies overtake your stomach once again.

“Maybe it is, ‘cause it’s ten dollars I don’t have to spend!”

“You’re cheap, Sam.” Josh responded, his lips turning down into a frown.

“It’s okay. We can walk, it’s not that far.” Daniel said, breaking the tension with a hand on both of their shoulders. “We can stop at the corner store and grab another case of beer on the way back.” Danny offered. “They won’t deliver that, anyway.” With a huff through his nose, Josh eventually gave a nod.

“Fine, we can walk, but that’s not my point.” He said, stepping away from the two to grab his wallet and his shirt. “You know I’m right, you just won’t admit it.” He pointed a finger at Sam, his tone grave.

“God, you two really are twins.” You whispered, looking sideways at Jake.

“What can I say? We’re stubborn.” Jake gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You giggled, turning back to the three standing together.

“We’re going to get pizza,” Josh announced. “And we’re walking, because ten dollars split five ways is just too much for Sam.” You stifled a laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip so you did not further the tension in the air. “And we’re going to the gas station, I guess. Care to join?” Josh asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you. You glanced at Jake, waiting for him to answer first. When he realized all three of them were staring at you, he slowly removed his arm from your waist.

“No, I’ll stay, I think.” He cleared his throat, looking at you as he awaited your response.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, forcing a small smile despite your anxiety about the situation you’d found yourselves in.

“Figures.” Josh gave a cheeky smile, slipping his shirt over his head. “We’ll be back, please don’t forget that.” He continued as the other two boys stepped towards the fence gate. You felt your cheeks burn, looking down towards the water to avoid the staring. “You guys want anything? As long as Sam doesn’t deem it too expensive to buy?”

“Shove it, Josh.” Sam muttered, unlatching the metal lock as he pushed open the wooden door. “Be back soon!” He called over his shoulder as the other two followed him out. When the gate slammed closed, the lock clicked itself shut, sealing the two of you alone inside your backyard.

You shook your head, chuckling at the scene that had just unfolded before looking over to your best friend, who already seemed to find himself staring at you. Without a word, you took a few steps forward in the water, reaching out for the floatie Sam had abandoned when pizza was mentioned. Jake followed closely behind you, likely scheming another way to disrupt your day of relaxation. You pulled the brightly coloured tube towards you, steadying yourself as you centered it with your body. With one strong push, you pulled yourself up out of the water and lurched forward, heaving a sigh of relief as you landed on the tube. You turned around, careful not to fall off, and settled your ass in the middle. With a small smile, you relaxed and let your arms hang over the side, your fingers grazing the surface of the water as you looked up at the sky.

Jake was beside you, smiling to himself as he watched you. “You look comfortable.” He noted, propping his arms on the side of the floatie and resting his chin on it as he gazed up at your face.

“I am.” You agreed, looking at him through the corner of your eye. “And I’d like to stay that way, if you don’t mind.”

“You always think the worst of me, sweetheart.” He laughed quietly to himself, seemingly lost in thought about something other than the topic at hand. “Do you remember the year we bought that cheap inflatable pool? We put it in your backyard and sat in it all summer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed at the thought, closing your eyes as you recalled the memory. “It was that summer before senior year. My car broke down on the way to Walmart. Took us all damn day to even get the thing.”

“We got it though, after Josh came to the rescue.” He reminded you.

“That pool was like four feet wide, max. I have no idea how the two of us even fit in it.” You grinned. “And it looked like a watermelon. The cashier thought we were idiots.”

“Because we are.” He laughed, turning his head to the side so his cheek was laying on his arm and his eyes were stuck on you.

“Yeah, we were.” You nodded, bringing your hand to his face and brushing the stray hairs away from his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t, and that the touch was too intimate for a friendly relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him all of the time and never have to worry about anything else.

“Did you ever think we would end up here, in a real pool, living as sort-of neighbors almost ten years later?” He asked, reminiscing on the years of memories shared between the two of you.

“No.” You shook your head, only telling him a half-truth. You didn’t think you would end up like this, but you had always hoped you would. Actually, you always hoped you would end up like you were months before, living together in the same home, sharing a bed every night. Although you had what you once dreamed of, it wasn’t in the way you wanted it to be. As much as you enjoyed your brief stay at Jake’s house, you knew it was for the best that you left. You couldn’t keep hoping for love when you knew it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t open yourself up to the idea, because you couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

“I miss you living with me.” He confessed, his cheeks rosy from the liquor coursing through his veins. He would never have harnessed the courage to admit it sober, but he felt like he needed to get it off his chest, just in case you felt the same. “My bed is weirdly empty without you in it.” You felt frozen in place, his words hitting you much harder than they should have. You didn’t want to speak, fearful that the moment meant more to you than it did to him, so instead you sat, staring at him with parted lips and surprise in your eyes. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean—“

“S’okay, Jake.” You smiled, letting your hand fall from his face to his bicep. You gave his arm a small squeeze, reassuring him that it was alright. “I miss it too. I think I jumped the gun with buying a house. It’s nice, and I am excited, but it’s lonely, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked, the words coming out too quick for him to possibly stop them. As you looked over his expression, you realized it was a question he’d been dying to ask since you told him that you were moving out.

“Oh,” you breathed, swallowing hard as you tried to come up with a quick lie. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get sick of me. I felt bad, like I was a freeloader and you were doing charity work.” You forced a smile on your face, trying to make the situation lighter by joking, but he didn’t seem to take it as such. His eyebrows furrowed, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“You know I would never feel that way, Y/N. I waited for you, you know? Till you were finished school, for when you had a job and you knew what you wanted to do… I waited for you to call me and tell me you wanted to be with me again.” Your heart sped and your stomach sunk. As sweet as the sentiment was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow defensive over the idea. He was being far too romantic for a man who never once seemed keen on being more than friends.

“I just… I had to, Jake, okay?” You rushed out, scared he would back you into a corner and make you confess the one thing you wanted to keep secret. The pain on his face made you regret the words immediately, and you knew that fighting was the last thing you wanted to do. “I’m sorry.” You breathed, trying to focus and understand the jumble of words plaguing your brain. You wanted to be honest, to tell the truth, but every time you came close, you thought you might be sick. “I loved living with you, Jake. I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been, but I don’t want you to get sick of me, and I think that being roommates with someone you love so much is a tricky thing. I… losing you would be the worst thing in the whole world.”

“You’re ridiculous, Y/N.” His words were harsh, but his lips were upturned into a smile. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been sick of you, and I never will be.” He said, the certainty in his tone making your head spin. “But hey, we got a pool. That has to count for something.” You liked the sound of his words, making it seem like you two were more than best friends. If not a couple, then definitely a team.

“We did get a pool.” You grinned, only slightly guilty that you had such a hard time returning his sweet words.

As always, you were terrified that it would mean something different to him than it did to you.

“You know what the best thing about a pool is?” He asked, his eyes scanning the still surface of the water.

“Hmm?” You hummed, naive to believe his question was innocent.

“It makes it so easy to annoy you.” He answered, giving you no time to register his words before he backed away from the tube and dipped his hands below it. With a strong push, he flipped it over and sent you tumbling into the water again.

You were so shocked at the suddenness of his actions that you forgot to hold your breath, finding yourself choking on water as you forced your way back to the surface. When your head popped back up, you were too busy coughing to notice Jake’s echoing laughter. When he noticed your distress, the amusement disappeared and concern replaced it. He pushed the tube out of the way, swimming towards you as you continued to clear your lungs of any water that remained.

“Hey,” Jake said, now in front of you as he reached out to hold you. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking over your face as you took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, trouble. I was just messing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded, noticing the closeness of his body as his hands lingered on your arms. “You’re a dick.” You snipped, fully recovered as a grin blossomed on your cheeks.

“Seriously, you’re okay?” He disregarded your insult completely, still concerned with your well-being.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his side under the water to reassure him of the fact. He was so close, so comfortable and alluring. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him, remembering how nice the physical contact felt with him. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to part ways with you, either, his eyes locked with yours and his hands anchored in position.

Instead of dwelling on the yearning of your heart, you took advantage of the moment and used all of the force you could muster to push him. He lost his footing under the pressure and stumbled backwards, his upper half crashing into the water as he sank below the surface with a splash. With a laugh stuck in your throat, you watched him fight his way above water as he suffered through your revenge. When he was back on his feet, there was a fire in his eyes and a devious smile on his face.

“No, Jake, we’re even now.” You pleaded, pointing a finger of warning in his direction as he began to move towards you.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, clearly in disagreement with you.

“Seriously, stop!” You exclaimed, backing away from him as he closed in on you. Before you could get away, he was in front of you and his hands landed on your hips. In a moment of desperation, you locked your legs around his waist as he lifted you off your feet, cementing the idea in his head that if you went down, he was coming with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you could to deter his attack. “I swear to god, Jake, stop!” You let out a shriek of laughter, preparing for his unforgiving nature one last time, but it never came.

Instead, he seemed frozen in place, immobile from the position you had forced upon him. When the adrenaline faded and you understood he was making no further effort to dunk you under the water, your sanity returned and so did your self-awareness. In your desperation to avoid his shenanigans, you had clung to him in such a way that his face was settled on your chest, and your legs wrapped around him so tightly that you had put him in a very compromising position. If that wasn’t enough to embarrass you, your actions not only seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, but a growing problem in his pants. A problem that was so imminent you could feel it.

You were certain he could feel your heartbeat through your chest as his chin rested on top of your breasts, propped up by the padded material of your bikini top. Your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his neck did not make the scene any less explicit than it already was, and perhaps the worst part of it all was that shame seemed like a far away feeling, covered completely by need for him. For a moment, you weren’t lifelong best friends, nor were you afraid of any consequences. You were a woman consumed with desire for the person below you, and it seemed as though he was a man gone mad. You feared you had the signal mixed up, that you were so lost in your own feelings for him that you were confusing his feelings for you. Then, his hands on your hips slid backwards, cautious and careful as his grip settled on your ass.

You took in a shaky breath, the touch electrifying your entire body. In reaction, without thinking, you shifted downwards on him. Somewhere deep in his chest, a low groan sounded as his fingers tightened on you. The skimpy bikini bottoms left little to the imagination as he pulled you down on him further, his cock pressing against your clothed core. Your eyes fluttered closed, wondering if you were dreaming or if the euphoric feeling of being so close was actually a reality. You turned your head downwards, finding him already looking up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He straightened his upper half, his face lifting from your chest and advancing unusually close to your own. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, and it was driving you close to insanity.

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours and explore the possibilities that were presenting themselves. You could feel how hard he was, how badly he needed the relief similar to yourself. Your mouth was watering at the idea of feeling him, and you were aching at the fantasy of finally having him in a way you only ever dreamed of.

The tips of his fingers traced the outline of your bikini bottoms, curious and eager to go further. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why was he letting this go so far without saying a word to stop it? Could he really feel the same way? There were too many questions, and you did not care much for the answer as you lowered your hips on him a little further. As you did so, the friction from the movement gave you a sense of relief. A quiet whine forced its way through your teeth, and you were unable to stop it before it reached his ears.

“Careful, trouble.” He whispered, his voice husky and the vibration of his chest rattling your own. His lips were so close to yours, nearly brushing yours as he moved them to speak. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone of voice made it hard to decipher if his statement was a warning or an invitation.

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You challenged, desperate to keep him there for a little while longer. You weren’t ready to give him up just yet.

“You know better.” He said, the words forced like he hated to say it. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” You challenged, your face inching closer to his own as you awaited a proper answer.

“God,” he hissed, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You always make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.” This time, he pulled you down on him, unable to resist the temptation of feeling you on him.

Before you could get to the bottom of his ambiguous words, voices filled the air through the screen door of your kitchen and a rush of fear filled you. The grating sound of the tread on the door against the frame caused you to recoil away from Jake, pushing yourself backwards as if you had never been in the confusing situation at all. As bodies filled the patio, laughing and completely unaware of what they interrupted, you looked to Jake to see what he was thinking. As if it was some kind of sick joke, his face was plastered with undeniable disappointment, and behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of hurt.

You thought you might be sick. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. To make matters even worse, you were still aching for relief, aching to be back in his arms with your body pressed against his. Surely there was no way in hell that he wanted it too, and you tried to convince yourself you were crazy for thinking so, but the sadness on his face told you a completely different story. His lack of care about the position and his enjoyment of the moment was obvious, but it was too much to process all at once.

Instead, you decided to pretend that it never happened at all. Of course, it was the most painful thing to do, but in his own words, it was the right thing to do.

“Jesus, what happened? You both look like you saw a ghost.” Josh asked, his voice booming and breaking you both from the storm of emotions consuming you. There was a smile on his lips and clear ignorance to what the group had interrupted. You cleared your throat, shaking the emotions away as you noticed the group had doubled in size since the three had left. The boys partners had been planning on joining after work, but in lieu of the whirlwind of events, the knowledge seemed to slip your mind.

“No, all good.” You assured him, glancing at Jake to see he’d made a quick recovery, too.

“Hope you don’t mind the extra company.” Josh grinned, setting a pizza box down on the patio table.

“No, f’course not. The more the merrier, right?” You forced a smile, but you knew everyone could tell that it wasn’t genuine. You hoped that they didn’t misconstrue the dishonesty behind it, because it had nothing to do with extra bodies surrounding the pool, but rather the boy stuck in there with you.

“Right.” Josh nodded, smiling at his partner beside him. “Come and eat, trouble.” He said, nodding his head to the chairs you and Jake had sat in not long before.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, giving a curt nod. “You coming?” You asked Jake, feeling guiltier by the second.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice hoarse as his eyes connected with yours. “Just give me a minute.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Your cheeks burned at his words, realizing what he meant and why he had to stay. “Please?” He pleaded, knowing that having you in the pool beside him was not helping his situation.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, nervous as you repeated the same words as earlier. In a rush, you swam towards the ladder and hoisted yourself up. You climbed out of the pool, shuffling towards the group as you tried to pull yourself together. You grabbed a towel from the back of a chair as you approached the group, drying your hands before quickly wiping the water from your limbs. Sam seemed enamored with his partner, barely noticing anything that was happening around them, and Daniel was amidst a painful bout of flirting with the girl he’d been talking to for weeks now. You felt good, confident that nobody was suspicious of you and what happened while they were gone, until your eyes locked with Josh’s.

He cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. Plagued with guilt and embarrassment, you cowered under his stare, giving him all the answer he needed. In true Josh fashion, he couldn’t have cared less about what happened so long as he knew for a fact that something happened. He was selective with his need for gossip, never caring about the details but desperate to know that his suspicions were correct, especially when it came to you and Jake. Thankfully, the intensity of the moment dissipated as people began to fill the chairs around the table. Paper plates were passed around as pizza was served, and Jake had recovered enough to get out of the pool and join the rest of you.

Sam’s girlfriend was in his lap on the chair, and Danny was sitting next to his new fling, taking up two seats. Josh, seeing the opportunity to further his torment of you and Jake, took one of the two remaining chairs and offered it to his boyfriend. Then, he threw a folded towel on the ground and took a seat in front of him, between his legs. With a devilish smile, he looked to you and Jake, awkwardly glancing at the only available seat left with plates of food in your hand.

“You take it, trouble.” Jake said, motioning his head towards the chair. “I’m fine sitting on the ground.”

“No, Jake. You take it.” You shook your head, unwilling to make him sit on the ground after you had hurt his feelings.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He frowned, too stubborn to take it from you.

“Here’s an idea,” Josh pitched in his two cents, sipping his drink before continuing. “You could both sit on the chair so neither of you have to sit on the ground?” He offered, raising an eyebrow. You shot him a glare, expecting nothing less but hoping to be proven wrong. “What? You guys shared a bed for months, but sitting on his lap is too much?” Josh was desperate for a reaction, desperate for the two of you to fess up about how you felt for each other, and he was playing devils advocate to get his way. “Unless there’s a problem, trouble?” He pushed a little harder, but you stood your ground in hopes of silencing him.

“No, no problem at all, as long as you’re okay with that.” You looked at Jake, who gave a shrug. He knew just as well as you did what his twin brother was trying to do, but arguing with him never got you anywhere.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the chair. He outstretched his arms towards you, inviting you in with great pleasure as if the awkward moment in the pool never happened at all. He had a paper plate clutched in one hand and a beer in the other with a dopey smile on his lips and rosy cheeks. Despite all of the days strange events, you could not seem to refute the fact that he was adorable.

You stepped towards him, careful as you placed your drink on the table. You sat, mindful not to hurt him as you shifted into a comfortable position in his lap. You twisted to the side, throwing both of your legs over his as you leaned back on him. He put his beer bottle into the cup holder in the arm of the chair and hooked his arm around your waist to hold you in position.

“How’s that?” He asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Good.” You squeaked, unable to confess how much you truly enjoyed it. He placed his paper plate on your leg, and within seconds, the awkwardness dissolved into nothing.

You ate, laughing at the topics the boys were discussing (and arguing about), pretending like it was just another normal day for you, but your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the incident in the pool. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, testing his limit as they travelled over your skin. Your mind only wanted to remember how close his face was to yours, his warm breath on your skin and his nose brushing your own. More than that, you couldn’t seem to forget the way he felt underneath you, worked up from the position alone and nothing else. Over and over again the memory of him pulling your hips down on his filled your mind, and it didn’t take long for the incessant ache began between your legs yet again.

Truth be told, it was not the first time the two of you found yourselves in a compromising position—in fact, it happened more often than not, but this time, it seemed intentional. There was no shying away, and both of you seemed content with progressing further had there been no interruptions. Back when you lived with him, finding yourself sleeping in his bed more often than not, compromising positions were the only way you ever started your day. Whether you woke up, your face resting comfortably on his chest and his hand on your hip to hold you in place, or if you were on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand nestled under your shirt on your stomach. Closeness was not foreign to you and Jake, and unfortunately, neither was sexual tension.

Most mornings, more so when he found himself as the big spoon, your ass pressed against him did little to help keep things platonic. It was always a struggle to force yourself out of bed, to pretend you didn’t notice a thing so he did not feel ashamed or embarrassed about his own actions, because you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and take care of the problems for him.

In fact, you were certain there was not a problem in the world you wouldn’t take pleasure in solving for him.

But today, you were conscious, both aware of the consequences and uncaring of them. He was willingly holding you there, testing his limits in the process, and he was sad when you pulled away. That was something you did not expect from him, and it was the very thing that was causing all of the overthinking in the first place. Did he really want you, or was he just being a guy, desperately infatuated by a woman no matter who she was? Was his sexual frustration your doing, or a result of a sexual draught he’d been caught in for months? You and Jake had always dated other people, but it usually never extended beyond hookups and talking stages. Since you’d moved in with him, neither of you even bothered to search for a date or a person to bring home after the bar. At first, you thought you were doing it out of respect for him and a dislike for the idea of having sex with someone else in his house, but you quickly understood that it was much more than that.

You didn’t want to date or hookup with anyone, because you wanted to do it with him. It had nothing to do with respect, and everything to do with your feelings towards the one boy you shouldn’t feel that way about.

You were confused, anxious, and worried that the instance might change the dynamic of your friendship, especially if any of your previous questions were answered with something undesirable. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to love you, in the same undying and relentless way that you loved him, but it was far too much to ask of him. You didn’t want him to sleep with you because he was in a dry spell; you wanted him to sleep with you because he wanted you, rather than just for sex. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized you had been feeling this way for much longer than you ever realized it.

“Y/N?” Jake asked, shaking you slightly. You snapped back to reality by the burning feeling of his palm on your bare thigh. You turned your head towards him, wondering what he wanted and how long you had been zoned out for. You gazed around the circle of friends, realizing that all eyes were on you. The embarrassment began to eat you alive as you mustered out a hum of acknowledgment. “Josh was wondering if you wanted to play Pizza Box.” He repeated, his hand still lingering on your skin.

“Yeah, I love Pizza Box.” You nodded, looking down at his hand. You couldn’t help but think of how good it looked, decorating your leg and holding you as if you were his.

“What’s Pizza Box?” The girl sitting next to Daniel spoke, laughing nervously as Josh began to break down the cardboard box on the table.

“You see, my dear friend, it’s a game of great strategy.” Josh began, shaking off the crumbs onto the concrete.

“It’s a drinking game.” Jake corrected, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Yes, a drinking game of great strategy!” Josh continued, finding a quarter at the bottom of his bag.

“It’s not, Sierra.” You cut in, reassuring her of the fact. “It’s super random and it’s really fun.”

“Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Danny and giving him a smile. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“There is a science and I will not take any further arguments on the matter.” Josh snipped, fishing around in his bag for a sharpie. You played the game so often that he never left home without one.

“I learned about it at a frat party in my first year at college.” You shut him down once more, enjoying the frustration on his face. “We play it every time we drink. Basically, we’re going to write everyone’s name on the box and circle it. We take turns throwing the quarter, and if it lands on someone’s name, they have to take a drink.” She nodded along, following your instruction carefully. “If it lands in an empty space on the box, the person who threw the quarter gets to write a rule, as big or as small as they’d like, and if the quarter lands on that, we have to do whatever it says.”

“Oh, that’s not too hard, then.”

“No, it’s not, and it’s really fun, I promise.” You smiled. “Be prepared to get drunk, though. There’s a lot of drinking in this one.” You warned. Your eyes turned back to Josh, watching him as he wrote everyone’s name down and tried to keep them the same size. He circled his own name last, then pushed the table to the center of the circle.

“Alright, Lena. You want to start?” Josh asked, looking at Sam’s girlfriend. She gave a nod, holding out her hand. Josh tossed the quarter in her direction. She caught it, focusing for a moment before tossing it down on the table. The coin landed on Sam’s name, almost perfectly in the middle, and she let out a laugh at the sight.

“Hey!” Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“Not a team game, Sammy. Drink up.” You smirked. With a huff and an eye roll, he did as he was told. Lena leaned forward and grabbed the quarter, handing it to the boy sitting on the chair underneath her. He gave it a lazy toss, landing on a blank spot next to Roman’s name. Josh’s boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, knowing he narrowly avoided the sentence to drink.

“Uhm,” Sam hummed aloud, trying his best to think of a rule. “Players who land on the spot can’t swear for the rest of the game. Every time they do, they have to drink. You can write it for me.” Josh nodded, leaning forward and circling the words ‘swearing = drink’. Sierra grabbed the coin, sitting back in her chair as she looked around the board. With a targeted throw, she landed on Danny’s name. Without complaint, he sipped at his beer, then took his own turn.

By the time the circle was complete and Lena was ready to take her turn again, mostly everyone had been sentenced to drink with the exception of you. Now, the group had a pact to shoot for your name. Lena tried, but missed entirely, which came a new rule of ‘boys drink’. Sam missed and hit Jake’s name, and Sierra landed on Josh’s name. Danny made the new rule of ‘girls drink’ to counter Lena, and Roman landed on it when he took his turn. The board filled quickly, now including rules pertaining to shenanigans rather than drinking. Jake added one, stating that if the player landed on it, they had to swim a lap of the pool. Sienna added one in which the player had to attempt at a cartwheel.

The board was filled enough that the rules began to slow, and the fun began. With a reluctant round of clinking beer bottle necks, the boys took a drink. Josh tried (and failed) to do a cartwheel on the grass, and Jake had to swim a lap in the pool, grumbling about his own rules being used against him. When he returned to the chair to sit, you refused to let him back on it, giggling as you reasoned with him.

“I just dried off! It’ll be cold and wet and gross, and it’s starting to get dark out!” You complained, anchoring your hands on the arm of the chair.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, trouble.” He bargained, sopping wet as he stood before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My chair, my rules!” You cried, hooking your legs around the legs of the chair. He chuckled to himself, leaning down and snaking his arms around your midsection.

With ease, he lifted you from your spot, the chair lifting with you. You held on for as long as you could, but eventually had to loosen your grip. It clattered back against the concrete and Jake let out a sigh of relief. He hooked an arm below your knees to hold you bridal-style as he sat back down, placing you on top of him. You tried to scramble away, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back on him as you shrieked with laughter. Now just as damp as he was, you knew the fight was a fruitless endeavor. You relaxed against him, your skin littered with goosebumps from the chill of the night.

“What was that about your chair?” Jake asked, the vibration of his chest ringing against your back as you leaned against him. His chin was resting on your shoulder, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up, Kiszka.” You muttered, mumbling a thanks to Josh as he handed you the coin. The alcohol and laughter did wonders at easing the tension between you and Jake, and you were barely thinking about the pool incident any more. Even as you sat atop of him, closer than usual, things felt normal, and it felt good to know that the situation did not change anything between you.

You tossed the quarter, and it landed on the corner of the box, right atop a little blank space in the corner. You leaned back, turning your head towards Jake so you could whisper something in his ear. He leaned forward, catching on to your intent as he waited to hear what you have to offer.

“I’m thinking skinny dipping?” You whispered, your nose brushing against his cheek as he turned to look at you. At first, he was surprised at your words, his eyes wide and his mind running at a mile a minute, but he looked to the box and quickly realized what you meant. Before he made his misinterpretation too obvious, he gave a nod.

“Good one.” He hummed. You leaned toward, grabbing the marker and writing the words down before encasing it in a circle.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re playing this tonight.” Josh announced, an evil grin taking over his face. At the sound of his words, your stomach plummeted, realizing what you had opened the door to in your moment of mindlessness. “Sounds good to me!”

“What does that mean?!” You whispered to Jake, nervous about what the future held.

“I wouldn’t worry, trouble. It’s just Josh.” He assured you. He had his hand on your hip, holding you close as he reassured you, and it felt good. Almost too good as you tried to bargain with yourself not to cross any boundaries.

The circle went around a few more times, and the night began to take over. The stars glimmered in the black sky and the moonlight casted a white light over the group. You were all long last tipsy, and growing more intense as the game progressed. Roman and Josh had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few turns, clearly planning something grand. Roman carefully aimed when his turn came around, making sure he landed on one of the few empty spaces left.

“Couples kiss.” He said, smiling as Josh reached for the coin. He took his time, and landed on another empty space.

“Singles kiss.” He announced, writing the words much larger than necessary. Your stomach twisted with unease as Josh sat back in his original position, turning his head towards you as he slid the quarter across the table. You gave him a scowl as you reached for it, knowing exactly what he was playing at. Carefully, in hopes of avoiding the biggest circle on the board, you threw the coin. It slid as it landed, making your heart speed, but stopped on Jake’s name.

“Hey,” he complained, a frown on his lips.

“Drink up, buttercup.” You smiled, still too on edge to be relieved. You knew that nobody else would take that much caution in avoiding the space, which made it all the more frustrating for you. Josh had you in stalemate, and he wasn’t backing down until he finished the whole thing.

The circle went around, and with every coin toss, you felt yourself relax into Jake a little bit more. So far, you were in the clear, and you worries began to ease. Perhaps you were a little too comfortable in your assumptions, because when Roman took his turn, his quarter landed suspiciously close to the new rule Josh had added moments before. When Josh took his turn, he was carefully positioned and calculated. As his quarter landed on the board, he tried to keep the frown from forming.

“Couples kiss!” He announced, forcing a fake smile. With that, Josh and Sam both turned to their partners, keeping it sweet and simple. Your turn gave the girls a round of drinks, and as you handed the quarter to Jake, you prayed he would have the same caution as you did. Of course, you couldn’t expect anything from Jake when he was drunk, and as soon as the coin was in his hand, he tossed it without a second thought.

You watched in horror as the coin landed on its side and began an agonizing roll towards the exact spot you wanted to avoid. As if the world was in slow motion, you felt like you could feel every second pass as the coin hit a divot in the box, halting its rapid roll and wobbling in its path. Eventually, it pathetically dropped to its side, and your blood went cold. Below it, the word kiss was covered by the shiny silver, and the only word visible in the circle that surrounded it was the word ‘singles’.

Through his own carelessness, Jake had sealed his own fate, and you knew Josh would never let it go, at least not without a good fight.

what do you guys think will happen in part two ☺️ I can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

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gumified · 5 hours

Text

WHISPERS OF GOLD

pairing: demon!satoru x human!reader

summary: when you're tossed as a sacrifice to the tyrannical king you're made to do the impossible, spin straw into gold. you know it's hopeless and that death awaits you yet when a demon appears how can you refuse his help?

content: 15.3k, smut, fluff, fantasy au, fem!reader, violence (not from gojo), masturbation (fem.), cunnilingus (fem. + male. receiving), unprotected, creampie, overstimulation, degradation, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, pssy eating

note: i really like writing fantasy aus with gojo as you guys can tell. i sincerely apologise for the obscene word count that this fic has, please forgive me i got carried away with the world building TT. i've been cooking this one up ngl hope you enjoy!!!

Each girl, over the age of 18, enters every two months and not one returns. Some say that they are kept locked away, others say they are killed brutally. People speculate that the King is a murderous tyrant who had killed to earn the crown. That explains why no maiden has ever passed the test he sets. No one knows what the young women go through, if it's a physical test or a mental one. They have no hints nor is there any information given prior. The chosen ones can never say anything because they never return. The people who try to sneak inside the palace for revenge or simply out of curiosity are killed or horribly slain.

In the Kingdom, there are only three types of people. At the pinnacle were magical beings - creatures or beings that possess Mana more potent than anything, they have the power to overrule any empire and their blood is more pure than any stream.

Mana born children - the ones born with magical powers running through their veins, unlike the magical beings their blood isn’t pure, resulting in them losing to the magical beings. They are usually pampered with luxuries and money. The nobles are blessed with this title.

At the bottom of the hierarchy were the ordinary civilians—those devoid of Mana or magical abilities. They formed the majority of the population and were treated with disdain by the upper echelons of society.

The Kingdom’s hierarchy is unfair, yet no one challenges it for that would mean certain death.

“Morning Mr Kou!” You call out happily. The village is bustling and the market is crowded as usual.

“Morning Y/n. You look well.” The old man you approach is smiling kindly as he hands you two loaves of bread. “How is your father doing?”

You try to hide the obvious fall of your mood. “He’s still in the bar, you know how he is.”

Mr. Kou lets out a sympathetic sigh, shaking his head. Passing you a jar of homemade strawberry jam, he catches your puzzled expression. "Take it, I've made plenty. And how's your little business going?"

“Thank you, Mr Kou.” You beam, dropping a few coins in his hand. “Perfumery? I wouldn’t call it a business, it’s just a little hobby I enjoy doing. It’s going well though, a lot of the village likes them.”

“You’ll be making more than us soon.” He chuckles.

"I could never!" You gasp, a hand coming to your chest and you break out in light laughter. Mr Kou smiles and you say goodbye, setting off.

As you walk through the market, people greet you good morning and give you sweet smiles. The sun bathes the scene in a golden glow, and the joyful laughter of children fills the air as they dart between stalls. One bumps into you and he apologises profusely, running away before you can say anything. The little village you grew up in holds many memories, you practically knew everyone here, but there's a looming shadow of uneasiness that settles across the village.

The two month period was nearly up meaning that another girl would be chosen to enter the palace soon, never to return. No one wanted it to be them. No one. And even though there's a small chance that anyone from your village would be chosen from the entire Kingdom, there was still a chance it could be you.

"If it isn't my best friend in the whole Kingdom." Rei sidles up beside you, her dark hair in a loose braid to the side. "I got you some flowers." She holds a bouquet of multi-coloured tulips, nicely wrapped in purple tissue.

“You sure those aren’t for Ayato?” The corner of your lips lift into a cheeky grin when you see her eyes widen. “The two of you have been getting awfully close lately.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Shut up.” She smacks your arms playfully, letting out a giggle. The both of you had known each other for years, starting when you had nearly broken the flower vase in her mother’s shop, blossoming a friendship. From that day onwards you would constantly visit Rei’s ‘flower land’ as she called it when she was six. You also got free flowers whenever you wanted, so that’s always a plus.

Ayato Inoue was the son of the local boutique owner. His mother made quite a lot of money, many nobles visiting her shop gave the family a lot of riches. He, however, took an interest in carpentry. Loving the way wood could be easily moulded with his fingers, how it could be shaped and designed with intricate patterns.

He had met you and Rei when the both of you were teenagers, roaming the woods trying to find medicinal herbs to help your sick father at the time. It was a shock when he had tumbled down from a tree landing unceremoniously on Rei with a loud thunk.

The two were smitten with each other and you resorted to helping both sides.

“They’re for you Y/n.” Rei places the bouquet in your arms. “An early birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t until next week.” You giggle, sniffing the flowers. The delightful, sweet scent fills your senses. The honeyed tones take you back to the fresh spring and the blooming flowers around the lake. “Thank you though, they smell lovely, I can make great perfume!”

“I know your birthday isn’t until next week, like I said it’s an early birthday present. I won’t be able to make it for your birthday this year, remember?”

You vaguely recall the one afternoon when Rei was excitedly explaining that she would be attending a flower festival in the neighbouring town. She had the same light in her eyes whenever she would arrange bouquets and you knew how much this meant to her. Even if it was on your birthday she had spent multiple with you, one without her would be okay.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Ayato waving at the two of you. There’s a bright smile on his face when he shouts both of your names loudly causing passersby to look at him, irritated. A stall in front of you, selling freshly churned butter, latches onto your attention.

“Rei, why don’t you go accompany Ayato.” You push her towards her crush. “I’ve got to finish up my shopping and I’ll meet you guys at the normal place, okay?”

“Please don’t leave us alone together again.”

“No promises.” You say simply before skipping to the stall.

The overpowering scent hits you like a truck and you inhale the light hints of sweetness in the air, swirled with the familiar hints of dairy. The young girl running the stall can't be much younger than you, maybe two or three years. Fair hair tied in a neat bun and by the tanned colour of her skin she stays in the sun milking cows for hours in the day. She shows you what she's offering and the rows of fresh butter is something that must have taken her hours, even days, to make.

"Must have a lot of cows."

She looks up and a laugh slips out of her lips. "Yeah, but I love them like crazy." She waves her arm in front of the simple display on the stall. "Anything you're interested in?"

"Just plain old butter." You hum, watching as she nods, packaging your order in a small paper bag. She tells you the price and you drop a few coins in her hand, giving her an extra gold coin to which she protests. "Nope, you keep it! Thank you." You press the coins into her hand before skipping off.

The next stop is the flower shop, even with the bouquet in your hands you didn't want to turn that into a perfume, after all it is your birthday present. A shock of colour greets you when you open the door, red roses, purple irises, yellow sunflowers. You pick up each flower, bringing each to your nose as you smell the delicate scent, placing them into your basket if you deem them worthy.

There’s nothing too special about your day, there’s nothing special about your life to be fair. However, as you settle down for the evening and the fire crackles as you look up at the full moon you wonder if, just maybe, there could be something more. You drift off to sleep as usual, conscious dancing away as you let your eyes droop with sleep.

It’s eerily quiet, even for a Monday. Shops are empty and there are only a few people milling around. Not even the old lady by the fountain is there (she’s usually begging for spare coins). You had originally planned to buy some meat for dinner but the owner, Mrs Lee, isn’t by her stall like normal.

There’s a small crowd around the local pub that draws your attention. As you walk closer people give you pitiful looks and they express their condolences. You don’t understand what's happening but there’s an uneasiness that settles itself in the bottom of your stomach. Ayato bounds up to you, panting.

“Y/n!” He grabs your hand, pushing away the crowd to reveal a poster nailed to the wooden wall. The first thing you notice is that it’s got your name plastered in big letters across the top. The second thing you notice are the words ‘next maiden to enter the palace’.

Now the crowd is silent as they watch you read over the information. There are people looking at you sadly and those who knew you since you were a baby have tears in their eyes because they know this is it.

You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You don’t react.

The only thing you do is grip Ayato’s hand and say. “The guards are picking me up on my birthday.” A round of unsettled murmuring erupts from behind you. Nevertheless you put on a brave smile. “I better make the most of my time left then.”

No one dares to speak when the guards come to pick you up in the morning. There’s nothing fancy about the simple white dress you're wearing. Ayato’s mum had insisted she make you an extravagant gown but what use is that when you’re going to die anyway? Even though the carriage that is meant to be escorting you looks regal, it doesn’t mask the fact you’re being treated like a prisoner.

The guards don’t let you walk by yourself, preferring to drag you along by your arms, there are multiple times where their grip would tighten, making you wince in pain. When you take one last look at the crowd you realise a pair of familiar eyes staring back at you.

Rei blinks, tears threatening to escape from her eyes. She can’t do anything and even if she did the guards would probably slit her throat on sight. Ayato must have told her about you getting chosen. You feel partly to blame that she has to miss the flower pageant she’s been so excited to go to. But there's another part of you that's glad she's here. At least you get to see your best friend one more time before you're whisked away.

“Foot. In.” A guard growls, prompting you to properly get into the carriage. He, like the others, isn't looking at you. Their armour clad bodies are faced away from you as they close the door. You cast one last look at the village you grew up in. It hurts that your father isn’t here to see you off but you weren’t expecting anything from him anyway.

The journey to the palace isn’t a comfortable one. You encounter many bumps on the road and your back hurts even with the high quality padding on the seats. You’re not used to this treatment, whenever you would travel you would go by horse. The motions of the carriage had your stomach doing all kinds of tricks.

You watch the scenery outside for a while. Looking at the green trees go by, followed by some pretty flowers. A few birds would often swoop down, allowing you a glimpse of their bright feathers. Since there’s no one to keep you company you find your eyes drooping quicker than expected. Sleep is the only way you could truly escape the cruel reality.

“Get out.”

Your eyes snap open when you feel someone grab your arm, pulling you out of the carriage. It annoys you that you had barely got a wink of sleep before you were shaken awake. There were already red marks on your arms from where they had gripped you last time.

“I can do it myself.” You hiss, tugging your arm away from him, stepping out on your own. He doesn’t bother to reply, only letting out a soft scoff.

The palace is much grander than you expected. It was meant to look magical and beautiful but it only had a dark grim aura around it. The curtains are drawn shut and four turrets rise high in the sky, looming over. There's nothing magical about this.

When you enter the grand doors, there’s a chandelier that greets you. Tiny crystals dangle down, reflecting from the sunlight shining in. The place is dusted in gold. There’s a soft patterned rug beneath your feet and you inspect the swirls of dark purple thread.

A family portrait, hanging from a wall, catches your eye. There’s a man with light blonde hair and a slowly receding hairline yet he has the most captivating jewel-like eyes. That’s the previous King Avery and next to him his wife, Queen Letitia. She was blessed with ruby red hair and a beautiful smile. Her eyes were the loveliest shade of blue. People used to say that once you saw her you wouldn't be able to look away and now you understood what they meant.

You remembered the time when the both of them ruled. You had only been little but even then you could still hear the crowds noise at the yearly festivals. The smell of sweet hot chestnuts and savoury meals. The burning of gunpowder from the fireworks mixed with the stench of bittersweet alcohol. Everyone was always so happy. The Kingdom was at peace but that's in the past.

When the two had passed away the crown passed to their eldest son, Mikhail. He had inherited his fathers jewel eyes and his mothers fiery hair. He had a warmth that exuded from the family portrait that hung above. Both parents had doted on him. Sadly, the crown had only lasted on his head for so long.

The story isn’t clear but one morning, when the maids went to wake him up, he was found dead in his bed. There weren’t any signs of who the killer was or even if it was an assassination. So, at the age of 15, young Prince Kael was crowned King.

Unlike his brother he had dull grey eyes and a bad temper. The red hair he possessed reflected on his power to burn a whole village down if he was angered. His eyes on the portrait were lifeless and unlike the rest he was not smiling. People thought that he had killed Mikhail for the throne and even if the rumours were true, no one had validated them.

Someone from behind you pushes you forward causing you to stumble and you brace yourself already knowing you were going to fall. A pair of arms catch you and you open your eyes to see dark grey orbs staring at you. The man has a scowl on his face.

“Sorry Your Highness, the woman seems to be clumsy.” A guard snatches you away from the King’s arms.

“Even if she is a prisoner here, you shouldn’t push her around. Understand?” Something flickers in his eyes and you get a glimpse of the tyrannical King everyones so afraid of. The guard in question simply nods, not daring to say anything else. The King turns to you. “So you’re the lowly commoner that has Mana running through her veins and a face like a goddess.”

You don’t speak. Normally, you would have glared at whoever called you a ‘lowly commoner’ but this time it’s different. You had your father to blame for getting you into this situation. He just had to get drunk and brag to a guard about his daughter.

“Would you look at that? We've gotten a strong one.” He chuckles, reaching out to brush your cheek but you dodge his hand. “You do realise that if you don't pass the test I have for you, your life is gone.”

“What exactly is this test?” The words come out before your mind can comprehend anything. Kael only grins wickedly.

“Glad you asked.” He motions the guards to help drag you across the floor and up the winding staircase. The higher you went, the colder it seemed to be. Finally, you reached a wooden door with a huge lock. He swings the door open and a pile of straw and a loom is inside. You stand, confused. Did he want you to make him a straw blanket or something?

“Spin straw into gold. That’s all I ask.” He doesn’t give a reaction that he’s joking. You feel the panic well up in your chest. “You have three days, starting tomorrow.” Then he leaves.

It hurts when the guards throw you onto the ground. They don’t speak a word when they lock the door, leaving you in the cold barren room. You shiver unconsciously, they haven’t even bothered to give you a blanket to cover yourself with. The room wasn’t big, there was a bed in the corner and only one tiny window where light could barely shine through. There aren’t any glass panes and no one could look in much less spot you. The room is pungent and if boring had a scent this would be it.

The pile of straw takes up most of the room with the exception of the small loom placed in the corner. You begin to feel hopeless, remembering what the King had said a few minutes ago. No one could spin straw into gold in three days, therefore your life would end. There was no solution to your problem but you were still determined. Maybe it was magic straw or maybe it was enchanted to change into gold if it met the right person.

You approach the pile. It was no bigger than a baby elephant and for someone with magical abilities turning this into gold would be no problem at all. You, however, weren’t gifted with such abilities. Even if you did manage to find a way you would have to stay up all night and you could already notice the sun beginning to set.

It’s impossible.

This was a trap set up for death. No one could survive it. Suddenly, you feel sorry for all the girls that were once put in the exact place you were in. Now you know how all the previous girls felt in your place, they must have given up as well. Given up to be killed instead.

It’s a well known fact in your village that your father was boastful and arrogant, if he had kept his mouth shut maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. There was no reason why he even needed to tell everyone you, a lowly commoner, possessed Mana in your body. He also didn’t need to brag about your beauty, it’s as if he didn’t realise the King would catch whiff of his lies sooner or later.

You don’t know when you fall asleep. Your eyelids close by themselves and your body’s shivering, no blanket to keep you warm from the cold cell. The whistling of the wind sings you a lullaby to sleep and you let your worries slip.

“Seriously? Another one?” A voice mutters and you hear a low growl. “At least this one’s prettier than the rest.”

You’re still half asleep when you open our eyes, tired. It doesn’t hit you that there’s someone looming over you until the man smirks. His sapphire eyes draw you in and you forget how to use your voice momentarily and you only snap out of it when his eyes flicker to a bright ruby red then back to the coal black it once was.

“You’re what? Number 63?” He groans, ruffling his white hair. It’s tousled perfectly and there are strands that stick out. However, his hair still looks impeccable even after he runs his fingers through it repeatedly. “Seriously, you’re probably scared of me aren’t you, human?” He kneels down so you can look at him without breaking your neck.

Up close, you can examine the beauty of his facial features. Eyes that are big and round that you’re sure once held the innocence of a child. Sharp jaw and skin so smooth and pale. His lips are tinted red. Plump and plushy. It strikes you that his flawless face didn’t look human at all. Actually, there is nothing that will give him away, that is if you didn't look closely.

“What are you?”

“W-What am I?!” He splutters, completely dumbfounded. You nod, hoping that you didn’t anger this non-human. “I’m a human of course.” He puffs out his chest confidently, like he didn’t just give himself away a few seconds ago.

“You called me a ‘human’ just a while ago. So it’s either you have a really weird god complex or you’re not human. And judging by the way your eyes can change colour, which only magical beings can possess, you’re not human at all.” You scoot away from him, maintaining a good distance between the two of you. “Now tell me, what are you?”

He scowls. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He sits down, lighting a fire in his hand, making you gasp. He grins wickedly, creeping towards you. “You want to know what I am, little human?” You gulp when he leans in close so you could feel his hot breath against your neck, whispering.

“I’m a demon.”

You leap backwards, crossing your arms over your chest. Though you had no Mana, you were taught how to pack a good punch by Ayato.

Demons are rare in the Kingdom but you can still find them lurking, mingling with humans. Their kind was eradicated years ago yet some still survived. They grew in secret, disguising themselves like humans to blend in, to keep safe. Mana flowed through their veins instead of blood, the possessed magical abilities much more powerful than any other magical being.

Parents taught their children to stay away from anyone with jewel like eyes and a face that seemed too good to be true. You were taught the same. Demons are known to inflict terror and fear on their victims. They hate the existence of humans, the exact kind that destroyed them.

And here you are, in a room with one.

“So now you’re scared. Are you going to run away?” The demon grins, teeth blindingly white. “Wait you can’t, you’re locked in and the only way to escape is to spin straw into gold. Pity, truly a pity. Such a beautiful girl like you being sacrificed because of one tyrannical king.”

“I don’t need someone mocking me when I’m going to die soon.” You snap. “And a demon at that.”

His grin widens and you can see how his teeth are sharper, almost like knives. “What if you don’t die?”

You frown. Don’t die. That’s impossible, you have to spin straw into gold. Even if you escape, which you can’t, you will be shot by the dozens of archers around the palace. Yet you’re still curious what this demon meant.

“How would I do that?” You ask.

He holds his hand out, smirking, eyes suddenly reverting to the shocking red. “Make a deal and find out.”

That night you toss and turn, head filled with thoughts. Thoughts that shouldn't have been there in the first place. There’s no way you could make a deal with a demon. Making one would mean binding your soul to him, so you’re to obey his every command. It’s a contract between an owner and the dog, to which you are on the losing side. Not to mention the ridiculous predicament he had offered in exchange for your life.

You wouldn't...sleep with him. It was clearly not right and you've never been taken to bed. It would be completely inappropriate.

Yet the lewd thoughts of him moaning above you as you whimper and twitch helplessly beneath him has your panties soaking. The mere sounds of his delightful groans has your heart racing. The image of him plunging into your wet pussy, erotic sounds echoing off the stone walls. It didn't help that he had such an attractive face. Demons were always known to be amazingly good looking but you didn't think that they would look so beautiful.

You close your eyes, imagining the way he would whisper into your ear, biting your earlobe as he trails wet kisses down your neck. How his hot breath would burn your skin as he mutters your name over and over again in a way leaving you wanting more. The only thing that was missing was his name but you knew that Demons would never reveal their name to someone because that would mean that they would have to obey that every person's command, no matter how dangerous or lethal.

The feeling of your hot wet core has you squirming. It’s stupid how something like him was able to provoke such an intimate reaction from you. The painties you're wearing cling to your folds and you haven't brought a change of clothes. However, the heat is too much to bear and you bury your fingers inside your pussy with no hesitation. There's something that unravels within you when you curl your fingers. You suppress the urge to moan, only letting small whines escape your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, there are a pair of dark eyes, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure. Watching as you let little, cute moans escape from your lips. He grins smugly.

"Looks as if the little human will be accepting the deal after all."

The first day flies by with you pondering the deal. It stays in your mind for most part of the day, spare some time with you staring at the pile of straw. There are moments between the day when the guards will slip you crumbs of food and each time they would glance at the straw and give you a look of sympathy. The food they give is just enough, a slice of bread and a cup of water. Your stomach groans with hunger even after your meal.

It's at nightfall when you hear the low crackle of a fire. You turn around, ready to throw a punch only to see the demon. He's dressed as if he's about to go to a funeral, black suit with a crisp black shirt underneath. He asks if you've accepted the deal and you vehemently shake your head. All he reacts with is a twitch of his lips that threaten to draw up into a gleeful grin. You don't plan to give in. So that night you sleep in peace.

There are still two days left.

When the sun rises you get up. Now you're more determined than ever to get this straw into gold. You stalk over to the loom, trying to thread the straw but it's too difficult. Your fingers are sore and they're starting the bleed. The straw starts fraying causing you to panic. There's the smell of burning wood and you try to look out of the tiny slot they have provided the room for air. You can't see anything but your best guess was that they are burning some trees or some rotten, old wooden swords.

The afternoon sun still beams down brightly though you can't see it. The stone room is cold despite the warm weather. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping to get warmer. The crust of bread you had eaten had begun to digest and your stomach craved for more food.

That night the demon comes back again, this time wearing a simple white shirt, the first few buttons undone. You try not to stare at the creamy expanse of his chest instead focusing on the fact you had less than 48 hours until your life would be ended. He once again asks if you accepted the deal but you decline, this time more hesitant. You don't want to give in, don't want to be binded to him, yet you don't want to die either.

You stay awake for most of the night. There's a sickening feeling that you hate. It eats you up, swallowing you whole. You know there's no other way.

The morning of the third day awakens, the urge to hurl your stomach across the floor is more prominent. But you don't, mostly because you know that no one will care. You've given up on trying to spin straw into gold. If the cuts on your fingers said anything it would be to stop. Somewhere in your mind you're doubting yourself and you're doubting the choice you've made. However, you don't want to die and although you don’t want to admit it the demon sure is good looking. At least this way you'll be able to live.

It's exactly when the sun sets that the demon appears. This time it's as if he's just woken up. Loose shirt that hangs off his frame, hair that looks as if he's just stepped out of a bath. You can see his defined abdomen through the white shirt and you can't help yourself when you stare. He doesn't have to say anything as he tilts his head, a growing smirk on his face.

You take a deep breath. “I’ll accept.”

The demon’s eyes sparkle with victory and you hate it. “We’ll get started then.”

“Wait, what?!” Your eyes widen to the size of fists. “Why are you making this sound as if it’s a job?”

“Would you rather I treat you like my wife?” He raises his eyebrows at you expectedly and you suddenly feel embarrassed.

“Well you could at least try to make yourself sound more seductive.” You scoff, gaining a little bit of confidence. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”

You watch as his eyes flicker back and forth from red to black. He walks closer, pinning you against the wall. There’s a faint smell of ash lingering on him and it somehow makes your thighs quiver. His nose nudges just below your ear and you close your eyes, feeling his hot breath graze your skin.

He doesn’t say anything when he presses light, feathery kisses against your skin. You take a shaky breath, gasping when he starts moving his lips closer to your jaw. There’s a cocky look in his eyes when you meet them and you resist the urge to let out a sound of pleasure. When he pulls away, leaving you breathless, you try to rearrange your thoughts.

“Is that how you like it?” He pushes his tongue against his cheek. No words leave your lips so you nod dumbly. “It’s your first time isn’t it?” Again you nod causing him to let out a primitive growl. “I’ll try to take it easy, no promises angel.”

It happens too quickly and you don’t have time to catch your breath before his lips are crashing onto yours. They’re plump and soft and you could taste a hint of sweetness. You find yourself wondering what to do for a while but your worries are extinguished when he grabs your hands, throwing them over his shoulders. He pulls you closer and you melt against him.

All previous anxious thoughts about what you were going into were erased. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip and it tangles with yours. You feel yourself growing wet, panties sticking. It only shocks you more when his large hands come up to caress your cold skin, the difference in temperatures makes you shiver. You whimper when he pulls away. Your mind is foggy and filled with desire.

He presses his forehead against yours, slipping your dress off. The cold air hits your skin with his touches lighting parts of your body on fire. His fingers travel down to your waist like little butterflies. They seem to dance across your soft skin. Slowly, he slides a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal between his fingers. You hold back your sounds of pleasure, afraid the guards would hear.

“Don’t do that.” He whispers, breath fanning across your face. Even though it’s quiet you can’t help but find him so seductive, so entrancing. It’s like he knows the effect he has on you as he rubs your sensitive bud. "They can't hear you, magic remember."

You let out a small moan when his finger enters inside you. The stretch isn't much but it still has you squirming whenever he would prod a place that you could never reach. He bends down, attaching his lips to your clit, placing gentle kisses. He inserts another finger with ease, your velvet walls clamping around him and he starts pumping his digits inside you.

"Feel good?" He murmurs against your hot skin, the ministrations vibrating through your body. It takes you by surprise when he curls his fingers, pressing down. "So pretty. Such a pretty pussy." He places a gentle kiss in your glistening folds and you whimper. You lace your fingers through his hair, gasping for air when he licks.

Your chest heaves up and down, loving the way his tongue laps at your core, fingers moving, and a feeling filling you up in what could only be described as pure euphoria. The rhythm he’s moving at is slow and steady, with his wet muscle accompanying him it’s more than enough. You grip onto his hair as you let out a breathless whine, being unable to call him by his name only has you pleading in a different way.

He looks up at you, fluttering lashes making him look almost angelic except he is sucking at your clit, tongue and fingers pleasuring you. “You’re holding onto me awfully tight, darling.”

“Sorry.” You let your hands fly off his hair causing him to chuckle. He continues his movements and you’re reduced to a pile of pants. You smooth his hair from above, making sure not to tug too hard. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Don’t worry.” His eyes turn red. “I’m a demon, remember?”

It makes you hold his shoulders tightly when he prods his wet tongue as you keen at his touch, spreading your legs wider. You can feel his smirk against your core and you inhale sharply when he adds another digit, stretching your tight pussy out more.

Every single sensation, every single movement has you moaning in his grasp, there isn’t a time where you didn’t feel good. The way he’s able to make your pleasure climb is unbelievable and at the same time you want more.

There’s a new feeling that starts to build up when he thrusts his fingers harder, tongue continuing to play with your delicate clit. It has your mind blanking and you try to hold yourself still. He watches as your back arches and as your body writhes and twists at the uncontrollable desire that coursed through your body. There’s something about you that has him thrusting his fingers faster, eager to let you have your release.

Your legs tremble and you feel yourself giving away. The newfound feeling washing over you like a tidal wave and it has you letting out a loud gasp as you throw your head back. All he does is watch, your tight pussy pulsing around his fingers, cum dripping out. You’re gasping, heaving for air as you feel your lungs burn. He laps it up, loving the way you taste and suddenly you’re all too aware of the mess you had created.

You don’t have words, all you can do is let out multiple sounds, all of which are filled with lust. He keeps working his fingers, thumb finding your folds, this makes you pant at the sensitivity, the mere feeling of being overstimulated puts your mind in a haze. He loves your reactions, the way your body twitches at his light touches to the way your voice sounds when you’re moaning. Albeit, his name never leaves your perfect lips but the way you’re submitting to him is more than enough.

He yearns for another orgasm, pushing you and your tight little pussy, trying to achieve something that he knows you can. It doesn’t take long for another gush of cum to come flowing out of you, your lips parted as you let out a silent scream. He lets you rest for a minute, focusing on licking up every drop of cum. Hush tongue pokes and prods, gently massaging itself on your pussy. Your fingers tangle in his hair once more, letting yourself succumb.

You lie, lungs desperate for air. It’s something you've never experienced before and now that you have, you crave for it. You cast a glance at the demon, his hair, now a mess, in between your legs.

“C-Can I…” You trail off, not sure how to phrase what you want. “Can I…”

He seems to know what you’re trying to say because he has a smug grin that’s overtaking his face as he crawls closer to your worn out body.

“You can say it. Be a good girl and use those words.” His voice is deep and there’s an underlying hint of raspiness that has you feeling all sorts of emotions. Your cheeks light on fire when he licks a long stripe up your drenched core.

"C-Can I have your cock…?" You mumble under your breath.

He grins, finding your answer satisfying. There isn’t a second that’s wasted as he lines his hard throbbing dick with your pussy. You nibble at your bottom lip, casting an anxious glance at him. He smiles gently, whispering that he isn’t going to do you any harm. You let out a strangled cry when he pushes in. The feeling is much different to his fingers, the girth so much thicker and you can feel the way it’s so slowly filling you up as you gasp for air. He stops for a moment, letting you adjust.

“You okay?” He asks, warm hands massaging your hips as you squirm above him. “I’m not going too fast?”

For a soul sucking creature he sure is awfully nice. You shake your head, eyes pleading for him to move. “I’m okay.”

His movements start off slow at first, pushing in and out at a steady pace. It still makes your body fill with desire and you gasp whenever he thrusts in. It’s when he picks the pace up, sliding faster, hips snapping to yours. He’s growing rougher and you love it, voice begging for more and more. Every moan and whimper that leaves your lips is accompanied by a praise from the demon as he fucks you to heaven.

The way his cock stretches you out and the way your walls clamp around him. Every single thing is something you could never dream of. His cock pulsed inside your gummy walls and your hands clawed at his back, desperate to grip onto him for support. Various sounds are elicited out of you and the demon grunts from above. You can see the bead of sweat dripping from his forehead, eyes dark as the night but they hold so much passion.

“Feel good angel? Got such a loud pussy on you, you hear that?” The wet lewd sounds fill your ears and you try to focus but all you can hear is the continuous pounding as his cock plunges into your pussy. “She’s just so loud isn’t she? Nasty pussy.”

His words have you reeling and you gasp at every thrust. You babble and scream at the sheer fullness of his cock as it fucks you deeper and deeper.

“A-Ahh! Shut u-up, ‘s embarrassing.”

The demon only grins at your words, cooing softly as you flush from heat. His thrusts quicken as he pounds into you harshly. It’s your first time but he feels as if he’s wrecked you multiple. He feels as if the world’s in his hands as your walls pulsate around his cock. You writhe around below him, moans escaping your beautiful lips, each one growing more and more erotic. He’s already decided he loves seeing you desperate and powerless beneath him, grinding your hips against his.

“You’re such a dirty girl aren’t you?” His voice is deep, laced with menace. He loves the expressions you make, the way you react to the most littlest of things, the way your body is so sensitive. A mere touch can light sparks inside of you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “But you’re my dirty girl.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth never fails to make your stomach light aflame. You gasp and squirm, hands automatically finding the way to his broad shoulders. You hold onto them as he fucks into you. The demon’s mouth crashes onto yours, swallowing every one of your sinful sounds. His fingers massage the supple flesh of your breasts, cupping them in one hand as they bounce. His thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple, causing your body to jolt in surprise.

“Taking me so well.” He watches, amazed, at how your pretty pussy sucks his cock in. You whimper at his praise, sparks igniting within you, something you’ve never felt before. “Tell me how well you take me.” He smirks as he notices how you divert your eyes.

You don’t respond and when you look back you see his eyes narrow at your reluctance to speak. Before you know it he’s lifting your legs higher, his cock reaching deeper. A moan leaves your lips as you struggle to comprehend what is happening. Your mind is hazy and your mouth is open, saliva trickling down your chin.

“I asked you a question slut.”

“So well. So so so well, I take you s-so well, nghhh, oh my god!” You pant under your breath, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. His thumb and forefinger come up to grip your chin, pulling you closer to him.

“Repeat that for me, darling.”

You search his eyes but you find nothing but lust and desire. He grins wickedly, cock thrusting into you harshly. You can feel every inch of him, every pulsating vein that carves into your walls. You gulp, wide eyes never blinking as you stare at him. “My pussy t-takes you so well, mmphh, so so well. Need it deeper, please please please, feels s-so good.””

The words make the demon feral and you feel yourself seeing the stars at the sheer force. He fucks you even harder, grinning as you thrash against his grip. The fire in your body continues to spread, heat swallowing you whole, refusing to let go of you. You throw your head back, little soft moans escaping your delicate lips as you buck your hips up to his, desperate to cum. The tainted sight of your body in his arms makes him groan. Your once bare neck is now littered with bruises that he created. The mark of his. The demon loves knowing that your innocent being is now stained with his essence, one that will stay there forever.

“I’m c-close…” You manage to get out between pants, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. You squeeze around his cock, making him growl. “I’m s-so close!”

“Yeah.” He grunts, quickening the pace of his hips, cock sliding in and out faster than ever. You screw your eyes shut, digging your nails into his back and he hisses. “C’mon angel, cum for me, be a good girl.” He purrs.

Who are you to decline his order?

“Ah ah ah! I-I’m gonna cum, gonna cum so much! F-Feels so so good, hnngh, gonna cum gonna cum.”

The fire inside of you finally bursts, dying embers rain down upon you, your orgasm wracking through your body, every tingle ricocheting off your bones. Your body spasms around his cock, and your cum flows out of your pussy, creaming on his cock. The many mutters of pleasure that leave your mouth are far louder than you expect and you find yourself letting out a strangled scream.

The demon’s cock is still pounding into you and soon warm cum floods your walls, mixing with your own. The warmth spills into your hot core and suddenly you feel so full, not like anything you’ve ever felt like before. His cock is still inside and the movements gradually slow down to a stop. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours and you feel your heart beat faster. You see how his hair, now damp, sticks to his head, eyes twinkling like stars.

You hiss, wincing when he pulls out. The strange feeling of emptiness is one that you’re not used to. The demon hushes your cries with his lips, smoothing our hair down with his hand. He snaps his fingers and suddenly there’s a warm knitted blanket wrapped around your body. The sticky feeling is no more and you feel more comfortable with the wool around your shoulders. He watches as you nod off, eyes drooping and you faintly hear soft words being sung and though you can't make out the exact lyrics of the song you know it’s something you want to hear over and over again.

When you wake up the next morning, the demon's gone and he leaves a pile of sparkling gold coins. Each of them look brighter than the next. They could buy a house for a family. But it's not the gold coins that keep your attention, it's the memory of last night that sticks to your mind. You remember the way he had sung you to sleep and the way his voice sounded so beautiful, so euphoric.

You remember the way he had cleaned you up afterwards, tending to you with utmost care that you had nearly forgotten what he was. And even though there are parts of last night that send tingles up your spine, it was what happened after that made your cheeks heat up and your heart go fuzzy. The wool, knitted blanket has fallen to your lap and you clench it in your hand. It’s so soft and you wrap it around you, inhaling the comforting scent.

It saddens you a bit when you realise he's not there when you wake up, but you have no time to dwell because you can hear the door open. You hurry to shuffle back up, quickly stuffing the blanket to one corner in order to not arouse any suspicion. You don’t say a word when the guards step in. They look unbothered at first but once they catch sight of the gleaming gold where the straw once was, their eyes widen. When their gaze lands on you, you look down, afraid that they would see through you and your lies.

There are hush whispers that are exchanged between them and you briefly hear the words ‘his highness’. You force the lump in your throat to go down, hoping that he will release you. A few minutes go by before Kael comes bursting through the doors, eyes filled with rage. You’re scared. You did what he asked, why is he angry?

A flitting thought passes by that he knows that you had made a contract with a demon crosses your mind however you shake it out. Demons keep their contracts extremely confidential and they make it their pride and honour to withstand that.

“You!” He seethes, lunging for your neck. “How did you do it?!” His grip on your neck isn’t too tight but it’s tight enough that it hurts and you aren’t able to speak. It’s like he reads your mind as he immediately releases his grasp, throwing you onto the floor.

You let out a few coughs, rubbing your sore neck.

“Tell me how you did it?”

“I did as you asked, straw into gold, now set me free.” You don’t bother to look him in the eye.

There's a momentary silence that fills the room and the guards exit without being told. Kael stares down at you, his grey eyes looking like a raging storm. “Free?” He lets out a laugh. “You don’t get to be free until I say so, love.”

You open your mouth in protest but close it when you see his hand rest on the sword by his side. Your blood boils and you keep yourself from lashing out, not wanting to be slain on the spot. Fine, if he wants you to spin straw into gold once more, you will. He has to let you free.

“It seems as if three nights is much too generous and this mere pile of straw.” He picks up the gold, inspecting it as if it was dirt instead of money. “But I'm not cruel, I'll give you the same amount of time to spin double the amount. The guards will deliver the straw later in the afternoon, I expect you know what happens if you don’t succeed.”

He leaves, not sparing a glance as he struts away. Not cruel? Not cruel?! He's delusional if he thinks he isn't cruel. You sit still, thoughts processing in your mind. The guards don’t say anything as they relock the door.

The afternoon comes by sooner than you expect and you watch as another batch of straw is wheeled in. This batch is twice the size of the first one, it covers most of the space in the room. You feel your hopes start to dwindle, wondering if the demon will show up tonight, like he did before.

What if it was a one time thing?

As the hours go by, with no sign of a demon appearing, you start to accept your fate. The sun has already set and the moon is high in the sky. You are sure the hour is late and your eyes are starting to get heavy with sleep. Everything’s so tiring and with all the newly added stress it’s nice to finally get a rest. Pulling out the blanket you wrap it over your shoulders, shuffling to adjust into a comfortable position.

There’s a loud crackle when you let your eyes close and they flicker back to life. The demon is standing in front of you, clothes tinged with smoke and there’s a little fire that he tries to pat it down. He’s cursing at the dying embers and you let a little giggle slip past your lips.

You let a tired smile take over your face, whispering softly. “Hi.”

He looks up at you and an expression of worry crosses his face. “Have you been waiting for me all night?” You nod, slowly finding yourself drifting away. He approaches you, sitting down beside your body. He leans your head on his shoulder, letting you rest. “Go to sleep, you deserve it.”

With his words you finally let yourself snuggle up to him, eyes fluttering shut. Your mind is already asleep as you shuffle around, trying to get into the best position. He looks at you, peacefully sleeping next to a monster who could suck your soul any second now yet he doesn’t, and he won’t.

Soon, he feels his eyes start to droop and his head bobs up and down from sleep. The darkness envelops his sight as he feels your heart beat steadily against his chest. And slowly he drifts off as well, the two of you lying, snuggling for warmth as the moon rises higher. A pair of dark eyes watch the pair and the demon is too absorbed in sleep to notice the way the dark orbs flicker with fire and how they narrow. Then they're gone, disappearing in the dark sky, only traces that they leave behind is the scent of burnt cedar and bitter blueberries.

You awake the next morning to feel a heavy sensation on top of you and you lazily open your eyes, bleary from sleep. The rays of sunshine come through from the tiny window of air you're given. You see things sideways and you're wondering why until you catch sight of the arm around your waist and the scent of musky pine and vanilla. You scramble to sit up straight and feel your cheeks flush when you realise you've been lying on the demon's shoulder for the whole night.

He looks beautiful.

Moving as slowly and quietly as possible, you lift his arm, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. It doesn’t work though because the demon’s awoken and he stares at you with bleary, sleepy eyes. You clear your throat, shuffling away from him.

“Good morning to you too.” He yawns, running his long fingers through his hair.

“Did you stay here for the whole night?”

He blinks. “Well, human, if I’m here right now I suppose that proves your statement correct, doesn’t it?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the bluntness. “I’m sorry I think I should have phrased that better, why did you stay here the whole night?”

This time he flushes, a subtle light pink dusting the apples of his cheeks. He shuffles awkwardly, avoiding your eye contact before whispering something that you can’t quite catch.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I said.” He huffs. “I stayed because I was tired and...and because I wanted to.”

A small smile reaches your lips and you stifle your giggles at his flustered state. The demon meets your eyes and the two of you don’t break each other's gazes. Everything seems to break away in that moment and you forget the predicament you’re in, preferring to find solace in the creature in front of you.

He’s the first one that looks away, prompting you to do as well. Your heart’s beating at an abnormal pace and your breath hitches when he pulls you closer towards him. His eyes fix on your neck and you’re unsure why until you remember the events of what happened yesterday. You shrink back as much as you can, Kael can't have gripped you that hard, can he?

"Did that bastard do that?" He grits his teeth and you see his eyes flash red.

"It's honestly nothing, I'm fine, nothing wrong." You try to reassure him, pushing his hands off your neck. He frowns, tracing his fingers over your throat and you gulp at the soft touch. "W-What are you doing?" You stutter, suddenly nervous at his actions.

He doesn't say a word, finger gliding across your skin. He presses over the place Kael had gripped on your neck. A cool sensation rushes through your body and up to your neck and you suddenly feel much more revived. It feels like ice has just been applied and you see a hint of blue light flash before your eyes, a glowing circle and it bursts raining soft feathers around you. A refreshing scent of mint and the ocean breeze greets your senses and it's so relaxing. The demon smiles. You don't even realise that your eyes are closed until you open them and you see blue sparks, that indicate healing powers, flickering in his palm before it extinguishes.

"What? Demons can have healing abilities, we're not entirely evil."

Now that your eyes are open you realise how close he is to you and your heart picks up again. Your eyes betray you and flicker down to his cherry red lips, ones that you're so desperate to kiss. The demon notices the way you look at him and he too tries not to let his urges take over.

"That's...cool." You're searching for something to say and when each word comes out of your mouth he can't help but look. "Can I ask for your name?"

This causes him to pull back immediately, he flinches as if he's been burnt with hot iron. Your eyes widen when you register what you had just asked. You're spluttering for an apology, trying to grab your words because you somehow think you've offended him but the demon just stares at you blank-faced.

"You know I can't tell you."

You pause before you hang your head in shame. "Yeah, I know."

"I can allow you anything but that."

And yet that's the only thing you want to know.

"Well then…" You let your eyes drift to the pile of straw in the room. "I'm sure you've seen that."

"Yeah." He chuckles. "Need my help?"

You swallow the large lump in your throat, nodding your head. He grins as he approaches you and you back up against the wall. "Can there be a change though?"

"Name it."

"Can I make you feel good?"

That's what makes the demon stop in his tracks, eyes widening. He coughs, spluttering for words. Everything he wants to say, or plans, has flown away and he can only stare at you, blinking like an owl. He can't help the thoughts that invade his head and he watches as you shrink back even further and he wants nothing more but to ruin you. Eventually, after you wave your hand in front of his face, he regains himself, clearing his throat.

"Are you going to make me repeat it…?" He hesitates for his answer and you don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous or he simply has nothing to say. “Actually you know what, it’s fine-”

You stop, words stuck in your throat as he comes impossibly close to you. His eyes are so big as they stare at yours and you don't feel nervous, or the jitters. You feel calm. More than calm. When his lips press onto yours you can’t help but melt under him and it's soothing, maybe because you've already kissed him but every action feels familiar.

His hands wander and you let him cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. The warmth spreads through your body and you tangle your fingers through his dark locks. You shift on the floor and his hands slip the straps of your dress below your shoulders. Goosebumps follow the trail his lips leave and you let out a quiet moan.

“You’re driving me insane.” He murmurs against your skin, hot breath fanning across your flesh. He locks eyes with you and You whimper softly feeling the weight of his gaze. Your eyes widen when he stands up to his full height and you suddenly feel intimidated by how he’s towering over you. "Fucking love it."

You watch as he unbuckles his belt, eyes fixated on the growing bulge. Your head spins in circles. Every kiss makes the darkness beneath your eyelids burst with colour. Your dress is long forgotten on the floor and all you can focus on is the pretty thing right in front of your face. His cock is red and it's throbbing as he strokes his hand over his length. You can’t help but stare in wonder.

"Open your mouth, angel."

You obey, pretty lips taking his cock into your mouth and he groans. His fingers trace circles at the back of your neck and you peer up at him, long lashes fluttering against your smooth cheeks. He coos, stroking a large hand before cupping your face.

Curses leave his pretty lips, falling off his tongue and you watch his expression contort into one of pure ecstasy as you continue your movements. You pump his cock with your hands, tongue swirling around the head. You're not entirely sure what you're doing and you're doing what you feel is right. Sure enough the demon is squirming and moaning above you, urging you to go faster. You comply, pulling away to ask if you're doing okay and he wordlessly nods, pushing you back down.

"Pretty girl, my pretty whore." He grins wickedly and you feel your pussy clench at the degrading term. "You like that? You like me calling you a dirty whore? That's what you are. My. Fucking. Whore."

He punctuates each word with a thrust and you're rendered speechless, eyes rolling backwards into your skull. You're whimpering around him, tears collecting at your eyes and you plead at him desperately. Salvia drools from your lips, painting his cock with wetness. You know it’s messy but you don’t care.

"Look at you." He coos, fingers wrapping around your jaw as he tugs you to look at him. "A mess around my cock. You asked for this angel."

A warm feeling pools at the bottom of your stomach and it intensifies. You flutter your eyelids shut, enjoying the way you're being ruined. Each thrust of his hips into your mouth makes your body crumble, the arousal coats your pussy and you clench your thighs together. Your throat feels tight and your lips are permanently wrapped around his cock. You continue to bob your head up and down and each time the demon jolts his hips you’re hit in the back of your throat making you moan around his length.

“So so so pretty, fffuckk, your mouth feels so good. You’re such a fucking whore, I’m gonna ruin this little mouth, fill it up with my cum.”

You whimper at the thought. The feeling in your stomach only grows and you start to feel wet. Spit falls from your mouth and your whole body feels as though it’s on fire. There’s the same need and urge that you felt the other day and you’re desperate to release yourself to the desire that pools within you.

The demon above only groans at every lick and suck you give him. You watch as his face contorts, watching every expression with scrutiny. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back and you watch the plushy lips part open as a guttural moan is released.

Cum trickles into your mouth and your eyes widen at the hotness that spreads across your tongue. You swallow every last drop and the taste seeps into your mouth. It’s not entirely bitter yet it’s not sugary sweet either. A taste you can’t exactly pinpoint but you know that you would never get enough of. The demon watches starry-eyed at your obedience and he groans, tugging at your hair. He bucks his hips, murmuring praises under his breath. You smile when he places a light kiss to your lips and you feel yourself light aflame. It's a strange feeling and the kisses he litters in your body are gentle and sweet. Your name slips from his lips, soft and comforting and his eyes seem to twinkle and you feel yourself falling and falling.

It's as if time stands still. The hours drag on and you thoroughly enjoy the time spent with the demon. He proves to be better company than you could have hoped for. Conversation mixed with humour lightens the mood and despite there being certain topics that aren't one to discuss, the two of you make do. You're still wary, keeping your guard up in case of anything and you suspect he knows as he doesn't prod your boundaries as such.

A day, free from worry, is one you bask in. The demon doesn't know what it is but something about you draws him in. Something about your curious eyes and joyful smile lights something within him. He has a vague idea of what it might be but it's impossible but he can't help but find himself feeling it anyway.

But he knows the consequences will come. Sooner or later. And he hopes later.

The land of Karnopia is vast and grand. Stretching far and wide, its borders seem to fade into infinity, concealing untold horrors within its depths. Here, amidst the desolate silence, the greatest concentration of demons known to existence find their domain. It’s silent and there’s only the soft crackling of dying embers that could be heard. It’s dark and gloomy, no light could be seen. Not many voices are ever heard and even if they are they would be screams of anguish and agony.

"I see you're back, Satoru." A man with ghostly pale skin and shocking black hair remarks, his attention momentarily torn from his magazine as the demon enters the house. "You're returning later and later. This wouldn't have anything to do with that human girl you've contracted with, would it?"

“What’s it to you?” Satoru's lip curls in a snarl, his teeth bared defensively. He realises too late that his reaction betrays his vulnerability, a fact not lost on the man before him.

The man's grin widens at Satoru's response. "Ah, it seems I've struck a nerve. Could it be that poor Satoru has fallen in love?"

Satoru’s cheeks heat up, tinting with a soft pink flush. The memory of your bright smile and the sound of your melodic voice linger in his mind, stubbornly refusing to fade. With you, there's no clear boundary between contractor and demon; it's as if all his defences have crumbled in your presence, a vulnerability he knows is dangerous.

"Shut up."

The demon's eyes flicker ominously, shifting from their usual dark blue hue to a fiery red. With a dismissive gesture, he discards the magazine and advances toward Satoru, his strides purposeful and unsettling.

"You do realise," He begins, his voice dripping with malice. "that if you've truly fallen for her, you're paying a higher price than she is." His words hang heavy in the air, laden with a warning that sends a shiver down Satoru's spine. "You're putting yourself in danger, as well as her. Her life can be snuffed out with ease. His Majesty won't take kindly to this."

“My father doesn’t like anything I do, so there isn’t a point.” Satoru snaps back, shrugging his jacket off, making his way up to his room. “And I know what I’m risking.” He doesn’t say more as he trudges upstairs.

There is no more to be said and the black-haired demon can do nothing but sigh, hoping his friend truly had everything under control. If Satoru's feelings for you are genuine, it could spark a conflict that would tear their world apart. A war that will divide everyone.

Satoru slams his door shut, leaning against it as he exhales a shaky breath. His room, in stark contrast to the rest of the house, is a sanctuary. Dim light filters through heavy curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the walls. It’s here, in the privacy of his own space, that he allows himself to think of you freely. His mind drifts back to the last time he saw you, the way you looked at him with such trust and affection. It’s a rare and precious thing for a demon to experience, and it’s something he treasures more than his own life.

Somewhere far away you lie, peacefully sleeping, not knowing that your demon was still awake, replaying the words he had heard. If his feelings are true he knows nothing good will come of this and all he hopes is that you will be safe.

It’s weird to say the least.

Lately, the demon’s been visiting you more often than expected. Usually it’s on the days you need help but now, he arrives at the crack of dawn and stays till the sun sets. You don’t know how long it’s been that you’ve been trapped. You don’t complain because, as much as you hate to admit it, you've grown accustomed to him. Dare say you like his company. It makes the cold cell more warm when he’s around. He doesn’t do much but talk and most of the time the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

You still don’t know what to do. Or what Kael will do. He hasn't come to visit and you’ve been locked up for a couple of days since he came. You hope he’s forgotten about you but you doubt that was the case.

It scares you when you think about it so you try not to give it much thought. You indulge yourself in thinking what Rei and Ayato would be doing right this moment. Home is something you think about often and it’s impossible not to feel sad about it. The demon’s here though, he makes things better even if it’s by a little bit.

“So you’re a perfumer?” He frowns. “Don’t you normally earn lots of money with that? How are you not...well, you know?”

“Rich?” You scoff light-heartedly. “To get rich you need a business, silly, and to get a business you need some sort of advertisement that boosts the popularity of your product. However, no noble will buy my perfume considering my status in the kingdom.” You sigh, shrugging. “It’s just how life is. I’m perfectly content with just selling it to the people around in the village.”

“Yet you don’t want the world to know of your talent?” The demon snorts. “If I had such skills I would be raking in coins every day and feeding myself till I’m full.” He pauses, creasing his brow. “And I think it’s stupid how the nobility look down when they do nothing but sit on their ass all day.”

You let out a laugh at his statement, nodding your head in agreement.

The loud thundering sounds of footsteps stop your slight happiness and once again you’re thrown into a pot of fright. You turn to tell the demon to go but he’s already gone so you busy yourself to pretend you are sleeping. The door slams open and you can feel the heat of the candle above your face. You tell yourself not to move. Not to make a sound, steadying your breathing.

“Wake up.” A low voice grunts and you keep your eyes shut, hoping that they’ll go away if you feign sleep. “Wake up bitch.” A swift kick is delivered to your stomach and you cough at the impact, wincing as you grip your wounded body.

“No need to kick the dog Derek.” A voice drawls from the side and you look up to see two guards, grinning like sharks. “We don’t want the pretty lady to have scars now.”

A hand reaches to grab your face and you push away, determined to resist the vile touch. The man’s silver hair is pushed back and he leans his face to yours. Your eyes are wide and you urgently try to get free.

“It’s a shame.” Derek sneers. “The King always brings such beautiful women but never lets us have a taste.” His tongue flicks over his lips and you hold in a shriek.

Suddenly, a force whips both men off their feet and they’re on the ground before you can blink. You scramble away, free from the guards grasp and you feel an invisible hand caress your shoulder soothingly and you know who it is.

“What the fuck?!” The guard by the door says, holding his head as he gets back up. “The hell?!”

And then there’s a freezing temperature that sets in the room and the two guards' eyes go misty. Their bodies stand still, dropping their weapons as they slump like their ragdolls. You shuffle back until you hit the warm back of your demon.

“Shhh.” He whispers. You whip around to see him behind you, sparkling scarlet eyes. He beckons you over and you follow. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Warmth fills you and you try to maintain your rapidly beating heart. “Calm down darling.” His nose brushes the shell of your ear as his hot breath flicks over your face.

You watch the guards turn away and march like robots as they lock the door once again. They don’t acknowledge you or the magical being behind you. The room then returns to its normal state and you turn to see that the demon’s eyes have gone back to the black it once was.

You’re shaken to say the least. The demon takes his hand off you but you reach for it, gripping onto it for dear life as you snuggle back into him. He chuckles but lets you stay as he props his chin onto your head.

“Thank you.” You mumble.

The demon picks you up and lays you down so you’re facing the ceiling. He lifts your dress and you splutter, confused. He only puts a finger to your lips as he examines your bare stomach. The pain of the kick is still there and he lets his hand press down on the spot and you hiss. He whispers sorry before rubbing your wound.

You let your eyes flutter shut and they snap open when he gives you a kiss on the lips. You melt into him, moving your lips against his. Your heart is racing and you wrap your thighs around his waist, trying to pick yourself up but his hand pushes you down.

“You’re injured.” He merely says and his kisses start to trail down, across your breasts down to your stomach where he makes sure to take extra care. You squirm as if his lips are burning iron and your skin is ice. His eyes stay locked with yours as he continues to travel down.

You pant as he kisses your core, licking through the fabric of your panties. You were already so wet and his tongue only made your body jolt with pleasure. You squeal as he pushes the flush fabric to the side to devour you. His fingers rest at your hips and you reach down to take his hand into yours. It’s as if sparks are flying everywhere and you whimper helplessly.

“You’re so pretty Y/n.” He repeats, deepening the movements of his tongue. Each flick has you moaning with pleasure. You squeeze his hand, pussy clenching at the overwhelming heat as it overtakes your body.

"I could say the same for you."

A low chuckle emits from his throat and he continues the blissful torture while you fall apart. You squirm as he prods your bud, eliciting moans out of your mouth. He’s so skill full with his tongue, every movement has you begging for more. Your hands tangle through his hair, tugging the strands as you whine.

“So so sooo good! Oh my god, feels so g-good.” Your words are incoherent, mixed in with moans and mewls as you babble on and on. “A-Ahh!”

“Satoru.” The name falls from his lips effortlessly and you barely register what he’s said until he repeats it again and then your foggy mind is cleared, realising what he’s done. “My name, say my name, f-fuckk.”

“B-But…”

“Say it angel, wanna hear it from your pretty mouth, beg me for me to let you cum.”

You gasp when he thrusts his tongue inside you, making you fall apart as he laps greedily at your cunt.

“S-Satoruuu!” You let out a strangled gasp when his fingers press against your clit. He draws tiny circles, eliciting the most delectable sounds from your body. “Satoru ‘s so good, feels amazing, Satoru Satoru Satoru.”

You chant his name like it’s the only thing you know how to do. All this time you had always secretly wanted to know who this demon was and now you did you couldn’t help but cling onto him desperately. His name was so pretty and you knew he would have you screaming it even louder soon enough.

Satoru groans at your words, the vibrations ricochet through your body and you squeak at the sensation. He slides his fingers through your soaking folds, engraved at the way his saliva coated you. There’s a mixture of spit and your arousal and Satoru can’t seem to get enough. He savours your sweet honeyed taste, watching as you spasm and thrash above him. He loves looking at you, seeing what reactions he could get out of you.

“You’re so pretty, so so beautiful, god I could die happily with your pussy on my face.” The dirty words only make you wetter as you whimper at the vibrations that surge through your body. “You taste so sweet angel, f-ffuck, want more of you.”

There’s an undeniable mess between your legs that has been created and when you glance down to see the white-haired demon drinking you up as if you were the only thing able to quench his thirst, you can’t help but moan at the lewd sight. The noises fill your ears, the messy slurping and blissed out whines as you grip his hair. Your hips lift up, jutting yourself against his face as you rock your hips back and forth, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

“Gonna cum gonna cum! F-Fuck ‘toruuuu!”

The nickname has Satoru going feral as he groans at your words, diving down to suck faster. His tongue thrusts in and out of you, fingers rubbing your clit harsher. He inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt, plunging them in and out as the delicious sounds amplify. You’re so wet and your arousal runs down his fingers, and Satoru can only watch in wonder as he laps greedily. You’re convulsing around him, screaming his anime over and over again while he ravages your body. Never in your life have you felt such intense pleasure and Satoru doesn’t stop. His movements are constant, low groans and moans that send electricity shooting up your body.

“C’mon angel, cum f’me, let me see this nasty pussy spray all over my face, wanna drink you up so baddd.” His voice is close to a whine and he’s just as fucked out as you as he begs you to release all over him.

Your mind is foggy, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you thrash violently as your orgasm bursts. You let out a strangled gasp as you felt liquid gush everywhere and suddenly the feeling of Satoru’s fingers and mouth are all too overwhelming. The sensation is raised to a hundred times more and you find yourself writhing with the utmost pleasure. His fingers swipe at your core and you see his face covered with your juices and you heat up, embarrassed at what you had just done.

There’s a moment of silence before Satoru lets out a deep growl. His eyes darken and you feel your heart pick up while he stares at your spent pussy. You’re clenching around thin air and all the demon can do is watch as you heave breaths, forcing oxygen to fill your lungs as you try to calm down from your high.

“Give me another one.” He demands as he dives back down to make out with your pussy once more. His actions cause you to jolt, whining loudly at the sudden overstimulation. His breath is hot against your folds and you just melt at the way he consumes your cunt. “Want another one angel, g-god, want to taste you again and have you cover me in your cum, you’re s-so pretty wanna devour you so bad.”

Your noises die at your throat as you’re fucked stupid by his tongue. Your mouth is agape, tongue lolling out as you pant breathily. Satoru is relentless. He sucks and prods, urging you to release again. Tears leave your eyes and you feel yourself edge closer and closer. Your back naturally arches, pushing your hips forward as you feel your body get overtaken once again. Satoru whines against your cunt, lapping faster and faster until you’re gushing once more. He groans as you coat his face in a wet sheen. He’s slurping your juices messily, making sure none of it goes to waste.

“Y-You’re so cruel…” You manage to breathe out as he finally lifts his head from in between your legs. There’s a smug smirk on his face and you see the playful glint in his sapphire eyes as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“What do you mean?” Satoru’s voice is faked to be innocent and you scowl at the tone. He merely giggles at your accusation, climbing up to give you a kiss and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself through him. You feel yourself grow hot all over again as his hands wander to your tits, squeezing them gently.

“You k-know what I mean.”

“Hmm, don’t think I do.” He murmurs, his lips grazing your skin as he places soft kisses along your collarbone. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and his gentle sucking leaves red blooming marks in his wake. His hands wander over your body, fingers tracing delicate patterns that ignite a warmth within you. He moves slowly, savouring each moment as if he’s memorising every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment makes your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Satoru.” You whisper, your voice barely audible. His name feels like a prayer on your lips, a plea for something more.

He pauses, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Yes?”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I... I need you.”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I know.” His voice is dripping with a mix of confidence and tenderness. “And I’m right here.”

With that, he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing and desire. You melt into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were made for each other. His hands slide lower, fingers dancing along the curve of your waist and hips. You respond eagerly, your own hands roaming over his body, feeling the hard planes of muscle.

“Tell me what you need.” Satoru whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalising.

“You.” You breathe, your voice trembling with desire. “Just you.”

He shifts, guiding you gently to lie back, his body pressing down against yours in a way that makes you feel both protected and desired. His kisses trail lower, down your neck and across your shoulders, each one igniting a new wave of heat within you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He mutters against your skin, his voice a husky whisper. “You’re so beautiful, fuck, all for me.”

Your thoughts only become more feral once he pushes into your plushy pussy. His cock stretches you out and you already feel fucked out from the sheer size. Satoru groans as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. His hot breath tickles your skin and you squirm, desperate for him to start moving. There’s nothing more addicting than him and you found yourself begging for more, constantly calling his name as he ploughs into your pussy.

“Such a wet cunt hngh - so tight and warm, fuck wanna have you all to myself angel. You’re mine, got it? All mine, gonna take you away from here and - and have you all to myself, nghh fuck Y/n-”

His cock bullies into your pussy, moulding your walls to fit him perfectly. He hits your cervix so beautifully that it has you writhing and arching. Each movement makes you tremble and shake and you cry out his name repeatedly. You watch as he fucks into you, turning you into a mushy lewd mess under him. His white hair falls into his eyes and you can’t help but think he’s so sexy as he moans. Your hands loop around his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

Satoru feels so good. He thrusts into you faster, cock splitting you open over and over again. Each stroke reaches a new deep part of your body that you didn’t even know existed. His balls smack against your ass, the sound tainting your ears. His fingers dig into your hips, gripping them hard as he pounds into your tight cunt.

“A-Angelll stop squeezing me s-so tight hah fuck!”

Satoru whines and you’re close to seeing stars as you unintentionally clench around his cock. He’s so alluring as he towers over you and strangely enough you feel heat blossom in your chest.

“Satoru-” You gasp when you feel him kiss your neck. His teeth scratches your flesh and you squirm in his grip. “Satoru Satoru s-stopp ‘m gonna cum, please please please, ‘toru too much hnghh ‘s too much!”

“C’mon angel, doing so good f’me, such a good girl angel, cum around my cock wanna feel you s-so bad.”

When you look at the demon looming over you you don’t recognise the blushing fucked out face that’s begging you to release all over him. He’s chanting your name as his cock pounds into you. You feel the sensation in your stomach tighten and you moan. The tip of Satoru’s cock hits your cervix and every time it does it has you whining and thrashing.

Your breathing picks up and you grind your hips against his. You feel him throbbing inside you, and somehow his cock grows even bigger causing you to moan louder and louder. You’re so wet and Satoru stares at the way you suck him in deliciously. He loves to see the way you take him in and he’s enamoured at the sheer feeling you provide.

“Satoru I’m gonna cu- oh!” You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re convulsing around his cock, squeezing him from all that he’s worth. Your pussy releases all over him, your juices coating his body and it’s like falling into a warm endless abyss. His name’s a broken cry on your lips as you cum around his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck angel g-god love your pussy s’much, I love you s-so much!”

And then Satoru’s tumbling over his release. He’s a moaning mess as spurts of cum flood your gummy walls. You feel so so full and you feel his seed drip down your thighs. His cock still sits snugly in your cunt as you pant breathily. Thick hot cum flows out your pussy as he slowly pulls out and you wince at the feeling.

Satoru cages you between his arms and you see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly and how his lips are tinted just the slightest hue of pink. He’s so pretty and it’s almost impossible not to fall for him. The both of you lie in silence for a while, basking in the aftermath.

“Do you mean it?”

You look over to Satoru and the demon’s already looking back at you. His eyes were such a piercing blue but the eyes that once scared you now provided comfort and you feel your heart race as you watch him.

“Mean what?”

“You know what Satoru.” The name is new on your tongue despite you chanting it just seconds ago. His name, the thing that no demon was allowed to give, is now yours. You like the way it rolls off your tongue with ease and when you observe him closer you see the way his ears have gone red and how his eyes dart everywhere.

“And what if I do, what would that mean?”

Satoru looks away and you watch as he tugs his shirt over his body. His hands reach up to his hair as he brushes it out of his eyes and you sigh. There’s fragile silence that envelops you both.

“It would mean everything.” You whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “It would mean that this...whatever we have...is real.” Satoru's hands still, his fingers tangled in his hair. He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or insincerity.

“I don’t know when this happened.” You continued. “But somehow, for some reason, I’ve grown to be more attached to you. I can’t go a day without seeing your face and I certainly can’t go forever without meeting you again.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, and for the first time, you see a flicker of vulnerability in them. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“So you also…you know…love me…” His voice is barely above a whisper and you giggle at his awkwardness.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

The demon scoffs rolling his eyes as he shuffles further away from you. “Fine then, just go stomp all over my feelings, cruel human.” There’s a mixture of annoyance and teasing in his eyes and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m only teasing Satoru-” And he’s right in front of you as soon as you say his name. You gulp at the close proximity and you feel your heart beat rapidly. “Why’re so close?”

“Say it again, please.” And you do, you say his name and he asks for it to be said again and again. You watch as each time you do his smile widens and you gasp when he pulls you close to his chest. “It sounds so pretty coming out from your lips.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you recall the moment he whispered his name to you. “Why did you do it? Why did you give me your name?”

“Because it felt right.” His reply is instant and you lift your head to look at him. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, something weird and…human I guess. But the feeling feels right and I know that giving you my name is the right thing to do. Plus, it sounds so perfect coming from you.”

Your heart flutters at his words and there’s mischief in his grin as he places a kiss on your forehead. Your hand reaches for his and you feel the sparks of electricity that pass between the two of you as you intertwine your fingers. A small smile makes its way onto your face and Satoru knows he’ll do anything for you for the rest of eternity.

“So when are you going to teleport me out of here?”

“Wow Y/n.” Satoru huffs out a breath immediately releasing his hands from yours. “Just using me for my powers now, I see.” You let out a laugh as you see the small pout forming on his lips and you can’t help but think he’s cute. Your laughter’s cut short as his hands grab your face, pulling you into a kiss. You melt into his embrace, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. His eyes are half-lidded, dark with desire, and a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s payment, everytime I use my powers for you I require a kiss.”

You beam up at him, arms tugging him closer. “That’s a deal.”

Your lips meet his and the two of you become lost in each other. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His taste is intoxicating, a mix of something sweet and something entirely Satoru. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, and you feel like you’re floating. As you pull back you can’t help but smile as the kiss lingers on your lips.

“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks.

“Anywhere, anywhere with you.”

Satoru grins as he kisses you again, short and sweet, before he tangles his hands with yours, hugging you close to his body. You close your eyes as you feel a rush of air brush past you. You grip onto Satoru tightly and you smile to yourself knowing that wherever he takes you, you’ll gladly follow because you’re his and he’s yours.

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