#like my god brother. youre thirty. youre fine

[macroglossus]

jesus christ you'd think turning 30 was a death sentence

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

No Such Thing As Monsters

Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, injury

“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”

“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”

“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”

“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.

“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”

“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.

“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”

Eight Hours Later

Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.

“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.

“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut. 

“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.

“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean repressing?” you asked. 

“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.

“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.

“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”

“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”

“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”

“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.

“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.

“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.

“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.

“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.

“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”

Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time. 

“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.

“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”

“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.

“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.

“Sam that is not-”

“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”

Two Days Later

“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner. 

“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath. 

“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”

“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”

“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”

“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”

“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.

“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”

“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”

[nyrasbloodyclover]

a hot welcome (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: smut, p in v, fingering, reader is a virgin, aegon targaryen is a perv, daeron bff,

a/n: i am not really satisfied with this, but i had to finish it. anyway, i am logging out for some time. see you soon!

"I need you to help me pack, Daeron."

"No you don't, do it yourself. In case you forgot, I have to pack too."

Since you two became friends in freshman year, you were inseparable. You helped each other study, you hung out all the time and now he asked you to accompany him on his trip to visit his family, since they lived across the country.

"I thought you were finished! We have to leave in an hour!"

"This is why you don't have any friends. You think anyone would want to put up with this?"

"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend!"

You could've gone for hours like that, but it was really time to go.

Thirty minutes later, you were finished, and on your way.

The flight was pretty short, and you felt the nerves kicking in. The main reason Daeron asked you to come with him was that he didn't really like his family. Especially his brothers.

And from the stories you heard, you weren't a fan of them either.

Aegon was a drunk and a pervert (not Daeron's exact words, but your conclusion) and Aemond was cold and distant, emotionally unavailable probably.

Helaena was fine, she even visited a couple of times. Daeron rarely came home and his mother was very worried. She made him promise that he'd come once the school year was over.

You really had no other friends. You were glad you met him, but other people tend to be loud and too much work. You hated that.

Alicent picked you up from the airport, visibly on edge, because she wasn't very present during Daeron's childhood, but he never mentioned it. Not once. He was asking about his siblings and their pets and Alicent's new potential boyfriends. He was really nice and you loved him because of that. You tried to join their conversation, but failed so you kept quiet until you came home.

Once you got into the house Helaena was the one who greeted you, with a smile and a spider crawling up her arm.

"Oh my god! Wait, you have—" I tried to brush the little creature off, but she just laughed.

"That's my new pet. Wanna hold him?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure." She was kind and you really liked Helaena, you'd also like to get to know her better.

"Stop bothering her, sister. She just got here." It was an unfamiliar male voice and he was walking down the stairs.

Unkept shoulder length hair, dirty mouth and half closed eyes? Yes, that was Aegon.

"Why? So that you could bother her? Leave us alone."

You recognized him from Daeron's stories and he wasn't exaggerating, everything was on point. You could practically feel, not the mockery, but the perverse part of him coming to the surface.

"Hi. Aegon, right?"

His smile was twisted. "And for how long will this pretty thing be staying with us, Daeron?" He was walking over to the kitchen and your friend frowned at his brother.

"Aegon, don't."

"What?" He laughed, "It was merely a question."

Later that day, Daeron showed you your room, it was a guest room, larger than the apartment you shared with Daeron. His family was pretty wealthy.

If you'd only looked at Aegon, you could never tell.

While you were unpacking, you sensed someone's presence behind you, but before you could turn around, he was already sitting on your bed, looking like a very happy puppy. Who might do things to you if you let him.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, at least I think so. If you cooperate."

"Have you been drinking?"

"No," he giggled, he actually giggled.

"Would you please get out?"

Aegon got up and instead of leaving the room, he closed the door. You two were alone in your temporary bedroom.

"Aegon. Please get out, I don't want anything to do with you." But that was a lie. A big, fat, lie.

You wanted him to ruin you to your core, until there is nothing left for him to take. You never even had your first kiss.

It was the attention. Nobody gave you this much attention in your life, at least not in that way.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire..."

"You are so drunk. Isn't it almost dinner time? Are you going out?"

"No. Just came here...For you."

He stepped closer towards you and the back of your knees hit the bed. If he decides to come any closer, you'll have to crawl over your bed which you don't plan on doing.

Aegon could practically smell the innocence on you. It made him go mad. It made him go into his room and drink the whole bottle of wine in a heartbeat, only to be brought into your room, while you were bending over that bed, unpacking.

Daeron warned him, but he didn't give a shit. He's going to have you, one way or another.

Now you were all flushed, waiting for his next move and he didn't plan on wasting any more moments.

His hands were in your hair and in a second he was pulling you in and kissing you, devouring you and Aegon tried to slip his tongue inside your mouth, but you were still too stubborn.

You pulled away, pressing a hand over your mouth, like you've done something sinful. He loved the taste of you, and he wanted more of it.

"You..." You couldn't even look at him. How he wanted to spread you on that very bed until you can't walk.

He was ready to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Daeron.

"Dinner is ready. Mother already called, but I wasn't sure if you heard..."

"Coming!" You managed to get out, but your voice was shaky. Your face was burning.

During the dinner everyone ate silently, and at some point you could feel Aegon's knee brush against yours while he watched you from across the table. You tried to remain calm but your face grew hotter every second. You crossed your legs and he didn't fail to miss it.

His drunken eyes wandered over you, especially your cleavage in a shirt that was a bit more revealing. You forgot about it, but then cursed yourself for wearing it in such a moment.

It was thankfully over soon and you got to shower, finally! You were just finishing washing your hair when you heard the door open.

Aegon couldn't see anything, but you were paralyzed.

He took off his shirt and you had to admit, you wanted to be able to see somehow. You had no idea what his deal was, but it made your knees tremble.

"Aegon, what is it?"

"Nothing." You could see the outline of his body, he was completely naked now and he was walking towards you.

"Stop. I'm getting out. Give me a towel."

To your surprise, he obeyed and tossed you a large towel to wrap around your body. When you slid the door open his naked body flashed you, but you prepared mentally, so you didn't react, and certainly did not look anywhere besides his face and the smug expression he was giving you.

Despite your best efforts, you saw black ink of his tattoos and that was the last straw, you bolted from the bathroom.

It wasn't until you were in your room that you remembered you left your clean clothes there.

You cursed yourself, but took a spare shirt you had and used it as a pajama.

You peeked from your room to see if the bathroom was empty, and when you saw the light was out, you ran to get your things, but what took you by surprise is that the clothes were still there, all except for your underwear. Which was at the top of the pile.

Maybe you left them in your room, you didn't know, but you were too tired to care, anyway, so you got under the covers and took some time to read your book. You were so close to drifting away, but a strange noise awoke you. Like someone was in pain. It was the room beside yours.

No, not in pain, you realized, embarrassed. It was male moaning and occasional whimpering. And it was Aegon.

Was it possible that you got the room that was so close to his? You knew that he was doing that on purpose, touching himself, just to make you even more flustered.

You had trouble sleeping that night, refusing to acknowledge the pain and wetness between your legs. You woke up around four in the morning and decided to drink some cold water and try to calm down. Your heart was hammering against your chest, remembering the sounds of pleasure Aegon was making.

You opened your door, but before you could go down the stairs, you felt someone's hand on your mouth, pulling you backwards, until you were in another room. You didn't even get to panic properly. But of course, when you turned, it was Aegon who was smiling at you. It was almost dark in his room.

"What the fuck?" You whispered.

He didn't answer, but he did pull you towards him and start kissing you, no, swallowing your face would be more appropriate. It caught you off guard, but you weren't mad. You wanted him to take control, you were desperate for it.

"Ever been fucked?" He mumbled in between kissing.

"N...No," you breathed out, every part of your rationality leaving, there was just him, only him. He grinned and seemed quite satisfied with your answer. He wanted to be the one who is going to destroy you.

Just in your shirt, it was easy for him to start touching you immediately, not having to remove any clothing. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips.

You ended up on his bed, not being able to see clearly, dizzy from the sight of him.

His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and slowly touched your clit, using your wetness to prepare you for him after slipping one finger inside of you.

"We are just getting started. Relax," he whispered the last word in your ear as his finger slid in and out. Aegon kissed your neck and collarbones, just to soothe you before slipping in another finger. He did his best to stretch your walls before entering you.

"Aegon," you covered your mouth with your hand, remembering where you were and who might hear you.

He looked at you like you were a piece of meat he was ready to butcher.

Telling you nothing more, you suddenly felt him rubbing himself against your folds. Teasing you at your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.

"I was going to wait. I really was." He grunted, but continued, "I couldn't do it, it was a perfect opportunity and this is how you're going to spend every night in this house."

Your hips moved, needing him to touch you, bury himself deep inside you. And that's precisely what he did.

He went slow. Just the tip, and then he went deeper and deeper, the pain growing, but it was quickly switched with pleasure.

He slammed his dick inside you, making you cry out in pain, not yet accustomed to him. "You're going to ride me so well, I know it." Aegon's fingers dig deep into your hips.

He even forgot to take off your panties, it was stretched to the side while he kept going in and out, without mercy.

You dragged your nails against his bare back, leaving red marks behind. You realized he probably slept just in his underwear.

He pulled himself out of you, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.

"Shh, it's okay, come here," he gestured towards himself. Aegon was now laying down and you supposed you knew what he wanted. You were scared.

"But I've never— I don't know how—"

"Nonsense." He guided your hips towards his cock and pulled you down on him, again, very slowly and then started moving you in the rhythm that was good enough for both of you.

You continued as he showed you, his hands were on your ass, squeezing until it hurt.

You felt him deep, throwing your head back, but keeping your mouth shut.

Aegon grunted, but then a moan escaped his mouth, "Do it faster." And you tried to listen to him, you gave him your best and he seemed satisfied enough.

When you reached your peak, you stopped moving completely, letting yourself squeeze him, your thighs trembling. Aegon held your hips in place and then pulled out, but continued to rub himself on your still sensitive clit.

Your moans were what set him off and he came all over his and your stomach, gasping for air once you both fell on the bed beside each other.

"I am going to teach you so many things."

You just hoped nobody finds out. And when you turned your head you saw your missing underwear, sitting on top of Aegon's nightstand still wet.

[natti-ice]

Dream Invader- Castiel.

Pairing: Castiel x fem!reader

Summary: Castiel takes a trip into Y/N’s dream and finds some interesting information

Warnings: written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

The Impala drove down a dark road, no other cars for miles. They had just got a case two states over. They had just finished a hunt so they didn't have any time to rest. Dean is in the driver's seat, Sam in the passenger, Y/N in the back passed out. She wasn't new to the game, but it always wore her out like a newbie.

Dean went through all the channels on the radio, either they were static or they were playing some new top 40 song. He wasn't a fan of this new generation's music. He was getting annoyed, he settled on silence.

"All this new technology and they can't get better signal out here" Dean grumbled, mostly to himself.

"People don't listen to the radio anymore, Dean" Sam mumbled, fighting his sleep. He was exhausted, he got four hours of sleep in the past two days. He was always on edge, afraid something would happen when he slept.

"Shh, Y/N's sleeping"

"Must be nice" Dean said looking up at the rearview mirror. "Jesus!" He said startled.

Sam jumped, the tired leaving his body. His hand immediately reaching for his handgun, snapping his back to look in the back seat.

"Cas, you have to stop popping up out of nowhere" Dean sighed

"Sorry, I figured this was better than showing up in the middle of the road."

"I wanted to come with you guys on this hunt, I had nothing better to do" Castiel explained.

"Why didn't you just call?" Sam asked

"I uh- I lost my cellphone" He replied, he had no idea where it was. Probably some country in Europe, he's been to too many places this week.

"Whatever just give us a warning next time" Dean said

-

The four of them drove in silence for another thirty minutes. Y/N is still sound asleep. As much as Dean loved to drive, looking at a bunch of nothing is boring. He was trying to think of a game to keep him occupied, maybe like 'count how many trees you see' he probably couldn't count that high.

Checking the mirror once more, he saw a faint smile on Y/N's sleeping face. She was always a peaceful sleeper, he wondered how after all the things they had seen. How could anyone sleep after that? He was happy she could sleep, he never wanted her to know the feeling of running off adrenaline and bad coffee.

He got an idea, not his best work but he had to deal with what he had.

"Hey Cas" The angel looked up, he didn't know road trips were this boring.

"Yeah?" He answered

"Why don't you hop into Y/N's dream, see why she's got that smile on her face"

"Dean-" Sam started

"C'mon it's harmless Sammy. Just a little bit of fun" Dean said before his brother could tell him how that it was an invasion of privacy blah blah.

"I don't think that's a good Idea, Dean" Castiel didn't understand how this would be "fun" But he knew humans found entertainment in weird ways.

"Don't be a buzzkill. Just use your little angel powers and see what she's doing."

"She's probably running through a field of flowers or something"

"Fine. I'll do it, but don't ask me to do anything weird for at least a week"

"Deal, now go" Dean said, he could feel his brother's disappointed glare as Cass disappeared.

"What?" he asked

"Boundaries Dean, boundaries." Sam sighed

"Oh please it's not like Cas doesn't show up in our dreams three times a week"

Silence.

"No, he doesn't" Sam said confused

"Whatever, you know what I mean" Dean nervously squeezed the steering wheel. Oh god, do I dream about Cas? he thought.

"Right.." Sam replied giving Dean a skeptical look

-

Castiel landed on some unstable surface. Looking down at his feet, his black shoes were sinking in sand with every step. He looked around at his surrounding, he was on a beach. The sun was starting to set, the sound of waves crashing filled the air. It was so picturesque.

He could hear faint music coming from his right. Off into the distance, he could see two people standing. He figured it was Y/N, but he didn't know who the other person was. He walks closer to the pair, he noticed small candles lit around the two.

They were swaying to the tune playing from the small radio on the ground. It was one of those old love songs. It seemed whoever she was with, they were romantically involved. When he got about 6 feet away from them, he could see who the mystery person was.

It was him.

Well, his vessel.

They seemed so happy, in love with the moment. Y/N had her arms wrapped around his torso resting her head on his chest. While dream Castiel's hands were on her waist. He didn't know she felt that way about him, maybe it was just the dream.

He watched them for what felt like forever, as he took in the sight. He had a strong love for Y/N, he had trouble figuring out what kind of love. She was one of the most beautiful humans he'd ever met. She's smart, funny, caring, in his eyes she was perfect.

Though, he wasn't sure how relationships between humans and angels would be seen by the man upstairs. Honestly, he didn't care.

He guessed he had been standing there so long Y/N felt his presence. She looked over and saw him. "Castiel?" her eyes went wide.

He freaked out and didn't know what to say, he vanished out of the dream landing back in the Impala.

Shortly after, Y/N woke up from her sleep. She looked over and saw Castiel. Her hope of that meeting being a part of her dream went out the window. He saw what she was doing. She prayed to anyone who was listening that he didn't think anything of it.

"Morning sunshine" Dean said when he saw she was awake.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, he could see she was disheveled.

"Fine" She replied, trying to keep it together

"Did you see anything in there, Cas?"

"Nope. Just like you said, fields." He came up with the lie on the spot, he didn't want to embarrass Y/N anymore.

"That's boring-"

"Hang on, you told him to go into my dream?" Annoyance in her voice

"It was just for fun Y/N, plus like he said, he didn't see anything" He said in defense.

"You son of a bitch" she said flicking his ear

"Ough!"

-

The rest of the drive was mainly silent. Y/N didn't talk to Dean much and didn't say a word to Castiel. She was so embarrassed, out of all the dreams he could've walked in on it was that one.

It had been reoccurring for months, she and Cass on a beach in each other's arms. Not one problem in the world, it was just them. Her crush grew stronger as the dream progressed. She had done so well hiding her feelings for the angel. Now all of that is gone because Dean is nosy.

They finally made it to their next case, pulling up to a motel parking lot. Sam and Dean went inside the office to get a room, leaving Cass and Y/N alone.

They stood outside the car waiting for them to get back. Needless to say, it was pretty damn awkward. The silence was killing Y/N, she spoke up.

"Thank you" she said

"What?" Castiel was confused

"Thanks for not telling them what you saw." she kept her head down

"Oh, you're welcome... I didn't think it was my place to tell them about your dream."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy" he felt so bad about this.

"It's alright. At least now you know." she sighed

"Know what?"

"You're gonna make me say it?" she looked up at him. He looked very confused

"That I like you, Castiel."

"Oh," he swallowed "I didn't want to assume anything, I had no idea about this"

"No one knew, I didn't want it getting in the way of the job. Plus I know there's no chance you feel the same way-"

"You're wrong" he cut her off

"Huh?"

"About how I feel, I do feel the same. I guess I've been keeping a secret too." He looked deep into her eyes to make sure she knew he was telling the truth. " There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought about you, how kind and sweet you are. Not to mention how stunning you are."

Y/N thought she was still dreaming. She couldn't believe what he was saying, her heart started to race. She couldn't find any words, so she used her actions.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips back to his eyes, leaning in slow in case he wanted to back out. He matched her actions, leaning in connecting their lips. She runs her hand through his hair deepening the kiss.

"What the hell did we miss?" Dean's voice pulled them out of their daze, pulling apart from each other.

"Hey guys" she nervously smiled

"Hey" Dean mocked "Should we get you two lovebirds your own room?" he laughed

"Leave them alone" Sam said "c'mon rooms this way" he led the group towards the motel room

Dean walked in between Castiel and Y/N one arm on each of them pulling them in for an awkward hug.

"Isn't this great, my two best pals together. I can hear the wedding bells already!"

Join a tag list!

[lenaluvbot]

First time for everything

warnings!: (smut/degration kink/praise kink/hair pulling kink/choking kink/dom sub underlines/domination kink)

smut underneath the cut

It was strange.

Orm knew he’d have to stay low til people believed her was dead like his brother told him, but that do mean he actually wanted too?

The first green flag he got he practically ran (his new favorite thing to do) his way to the city called the quote “big apple”

He had never gone away from the ocean unless absolutely necessary. Yet here he was walking awkwardly amongst a group of people when he felt a tap on his back.

“Are you okay sir?”

You had to ask! He was walking as if he’d been shot in the ass.

“Yes..Perfectly fine- But i have a question miss..Where’s this self proclaimed big apple?”

You burst out laughing.

“Self proclaimed big apple?”

“Isn’t this the right place? i’ve been here for days yet no big apple.”

Holy shit! he was seriously saying that!

“You know that’s just a saying right? This isn’t an apple?”

“I wouldn’t know, i’m not from here” Shit. God he couldn’t keep anything to himself.

“Oh really? Where you from pretty boy?”

“Out of town, reallyyy far south like really far i doubt you’ll know where”.

“Mississippi?”

“Uh sure something like that.” He smirked, this was the longest he’d talked to a surface dweller. Let alone the fact it was a woman. A hot woman at that. Shit he hadn’t spoke in a good thirty seconds and now she was staring awkwardly.

“I um have to go but here’s my number, incase you want to actually tell me where you’re from.” You gave him your cell number and smiled as you walked away. If it wasn’t for your scheduled dinner you would’ve continued talking to the mysterious man, even though you sub conscious was telling you to run.

Damn you and being attracted to hot guys.

He continued his walk with a satisfied smirk, was it really this easy to attract women on the surface?

He continued his quest to find said apple but grew bored as he checked into a on surface hotel. He eventually dialed your number into his hotel phone (since he didn’t have a actual one yet)

“Hello?”

“It’s me the guy who was trying to find the apple earlier”

“Oh..Hey, call me to finally say where your from?”

“Something of the sorts, you should come over so we can discuss it.” He smirked looking down at the bed.

“Sure, i’ll be over in a few.”

Like you said you arrived at the hotel with a shirt that made your breasts practically pop out the shirt, pushy? yes. sultry? yes. but he had already called you over so it was obviously worth it.

“You loook…Great.” He grinned at you.

“Thank you.” Your were practically begging to climb the guy down.

“Come in come in.” He ushered you in with his arm, his hand on your back and trailing lower..Giving you a gentle squeeze. You sat on the bed with a little distance.

“Come on, i’m not gonna bite.”

“I know i’ve just never done this before, like going to see a guy at a mysterious hotel, if you weren’t hot i truthfully wouldn’t have even came over.”

“In all truthfulness, i haven’t either.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m far from a liar.”

“I doubt a guy like you has never gone to a hotel to meet up with someone.”

“A guy like me hasn’t even been to the surface before”

Surface? What the hell was he talking about?

“Surface? Okay you don’t have to be sarcastic.”

“Look between you and me, i’m not from around here. I’m from some place a little further south, And i’m here lie down for a little and just learn a few new things..” His hand slid up your thigh “If you’re willing to teach me.”

“Teach you?…Have you never had sex where you from?”

“Something like that.”

“Well i’m down to teach you as long as you finish telling where your from first.” You smirked, a deal for a deal.

“I’m from atlantis. That city in the water? Yeah that’s me. But i kinda got kicked out momentarily.”

“So are you like the king or something?”

“Well kinda-“

“Because that’s really hot.”

Oh.

He had to continue the lie now.

“Yes i’m a king. A king who’s never been with a human, one with your beauty at that.”

He kissed you and slid a hand up your shirt and squeezed your breast, your already hard nipples being squeezed made you practically squeal.

“Oh? Humans can do that?” He grinned and grabbed your other breast making you practically moan so loud even the orca whales could hear you from here.

He grabbed your legs and flipped you over his lap so now you were straddling his lap..then he stopped.

“What’s that for?”

“Well underwater we usually do it differently so-“

“Oh..Well humans do it a little differently, want me to guide you?”

“Please yes.”

You kissed him and pushed him back into the bed, un buttoning his belt as you unzipped his jeans. Precum leaking through the base of his undergarments.

You took out his cock and palmed it, already hard he let out soft whimpering from the feeling. “Keep going.”

“Hm?”

“Please keep going..”

“You going to good just let go..release in my hand come on- no pun intended.”

Almost on command he came in your hand as you slowly let yourself onto him. And god his size truly changed from palming it to now feeling it inside you.

“Now you just have to move you hips and i’ll do the rest-“

He grinded “Alright then…” He moved his hips slowly and started to make you bounce on him, you let out soft moans as you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I get it now.”

He flipped you over onto your back as your ankles were now on his shoulders as you thrusted into you hard.

“You know underwater- The current gives so much movement it’s hard to honestly get a good rhythm but here! God! It’s great! And humans truly are much more flexible-“ He grabbed your leg and pushed it over your head

“Just amazing.” He knew exactly what he was doing. Pushing his luck.

He knew humans weren’t as durable as atlanteans. But god it was fun. Watching his seamen fall out of your cunt.

He chuckled as you reached another orgasm. Calling out his name as you had never felt someone practically break through you before yet here he was. His first time ever feeling the warmth humans had to offer and he was making you throw your head back as another orgasm made way.

“Fuck-k orm please don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, you know what i was planning on? Settling down with you..Maybe making a baby? You want me to fill you up and make a half breed baby? I can imagine it. You just full of my royal seed.”

His own words made him cum (again) as he thrusted into you. His cum leaking out as a trail as he pulled out.

“Thank you,for showing me the way of humans…It’s truly amazing.”

Hopefully plan B still worked when it came too atlantean seed.

[moonshynecybin]

Do you think the ranch visit 2014 ended with like slightly annoyed sex because Vale just annoyed with Marc beating his record but also slightly admiring him

i love this because its true. marc is ANNOYING ! of course it cannot be ignored that vale is ALSO annoying (max biaggi fight. hello.) like they match each others freak in that regard, but at what point do you look at this sexy ass twink who is obsessed with your dick and your bike (sex to vale. is motorcycle racing lest we forget he keeps that m1 in GROPING distance and marc is like GOD i wish that were me so it does. work comma sexually. for them. like a lot. but i digress) and obsessed with your ability to ride it and be like hmm. maybe this habit is NOT so cute. when beforeeee you thought hey hes just like MEEEEE and got HORNY about it. well obviously if youre vale it is when he doesnt let you win at your own goddamn track at your own goddamn house in front of your own goddamn brother and various peers. that shit is irritating. which i do think marc realizes now, but is also largely unrepentant about because he's hilarious. free my girl he did all that but it was funny. our marc not famous for his wealth of tact and restraint on the track. and vale is thirty six staring down one last chance to maybe win his tenth. and earlier that week when he beat marc at that karting event he said finally somewhere you dont win. so yeah when marc doesnt roll over and let him get the lap record that day in 2014 all of those endearing traits where they overlap and are similar. change. morph. arent so cute anymore. the light shifts. the music hits a minor chord. ominous. foreshadowing. chekov's gun carefully being placed on the wall. and suddenly. kind of a theme with them huh. vale hates him for all the things he learned from vale.

so. we are here to ask how that emotion translates to nasty sex. obviously. like all of these complex emotions do NOT mean that vale does not want to get his dick sucked lmao. like he's here he's thirsty marc's been in a tiny little titty huggin black tshirt all day its happenin. AND. it should be noted that in a very real sense this is their first sleepover. first time fr hanging out outside the paddock in a place where there is PRIVACY. no real REPORTERS. an actual locking DOOR. no way to hide from the fact that theyve been all over each other for like TWO YEARS now. AND multiple yamaha M1S that can be used as somewhat SEXUAL PROPS. (vale feeling also perhaps. emotionally complex here. a lil delicate. like YEAH i can invite my coworkers i like to hang at my track thats bro stuff but what about my years long situationship that —*static noises in vale's brain* like remember this is where MARC thinks things start to change between them...)

so yeah vale ends up like. amping up that competitive edge a little in bed. making this a fuckbuddy thing more than a RELATIONSHIP thing as much as he can in his head and with his hands and failing miserably and feeling even WEIRDER about that. so he's. i think he's working hard at putting marc where he wants him. hot hands a little rougher on the curve of marc's waist. cupping his ass making him gasp. sending him to his knees and making him suck his dick hot and nasty. teasing a little edging on the little feminine nicknames theyve never talked about but that make marc squirm and flush prettily. edging marc with three fingers in his ass while he whines for it. dragging it out. exerting a little control. not mean at all everyone is having fun (marc. out of his MIND.) just. excising some tension. its probably nothing hes just in his head. holding marc in his hands as he looks up at him. and marc trusting it. marc going. marc being just where vale wants him. just like he never does on the track. and marc thinks everything is fine when its happening thinks everything is AMAZING. but after that is when vale starts to go a little cold......

[crystalandparrot]

ROTTMNT x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

The flashing of cameras and the voices of reporters was the first thing Leonardo heard as he stepped out of his limo. Due to the long plane ride, Leo decided to wear comfort over fashion, although it's hard for him to look bad in anything. He wore a white wife-beater, revealing his plastron and tattooed arms. Much like his brother, Leonardo loved art, he just loved it in a more show-off sense. Of course, he let his brother give him his first tattoo, a large colored portrait of their family on his thigh. On his legs were blue sweats, a personal favorite that his agent always advised him not to wear. Expensive shoes designed for him specifically adorned his feet. Finally, silver chains decorated his wrists and neck (he would have chosen gold, but his brother advised against it. C'mon, blue and gold?), glistening with each movement. He flashed a smirk at the cameras and gave finger guns at fans. One of his bodyguards leaned close to whisper in his ear, "You have a meeting with the executive producers in thirty minutes."

"Which means I get at least twenty-eight minutes to strut my stuff." Leo chuckled. With split-second motions, Leo changed between poses, performing for the camera.

"-mask!"

Leo turned and stared into the crowd, "W-Who said that?" The crowd parted as if making way for a royal or God to walk without interruption. A small woman with a microphone in her hand shook as Leo approached. "Just now, you said something, what was it?"

The small girl stuttered, "I asked i-if you could put on y-your mask. F-for a picture for Channel 10?"

Leo's heart dropped, and his breathing quickened. A pat on his shoulder shook him out of his mini panic attack. He nodded thanks at his bodyguard and gave the reporter a quick grin, " I don't even know where that old thing went! It's been, what, psshh, five years? It's probably shoved in a box somewhere." That satiated the hungry reporters and fans, for now. Leo and his bodyguard left, heading off to the large building behind the crowd.

Okay, first things first. You don't know the old password so you can't change it to one you'll remember. So you changed the screen dimming time to never. Now the phone won't shut off on its own. Dialing your number, you called about three times with no answer. A sudden thought crosses your mind, causing your palm to hit your face. Your phone was on silent. Taking a deep breath, you quickly texted your number, explaining the situation and the password to unlock your phone. That way the turtle Yokai won't be as clueless as you are now.

With nothing else to do, you connected your headphones to the turtle's phone and searched for Spotify. It was his fault, the least he could do was spare some tunes. Wait a minute...his Spotify account...this dude was Othello Von Ryan? Man, you couldn't wait to see him again. His studying playlists kept you awake and alert through college! His barrage of random music, ranging from 80's dancing music to hardcore techno kept your mind alert and focused. Donnie, or, Othello Von Ryan, helped you with memory. Oddly enough, some of the quirky tunes in his playlists gave you memorization songs.

In fact, now that you think about it, Donnie looked an awful lot like your favorite actor--

"(Y/n)! Come in, dear! I've been expecting you!" A shrill voice called from across the street.

You looked up, spotting Mrs. Erin, the Heron Yokai. You grinned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and shoving them in your pocket. You waved at the Yokai as you crossed the street, stepping into her swampy garden. "How's your husband, Mrs. Erin?"

"Oh, Harry's fine! Come in! Come in! Let me get you a cup of tea." The old Yokai hobbled inside, her talons dragging across the waterlogged wood. You followed behind closely, used to the drab environment. You learned throughout life that the more you understand how something came to be, the more beautiful it becomes. With a clap from you, the twinkling string of lights came on. It's warm glow bouncing off the waxy leaves that broke through the cracked windows. Dew drops fell onto the wet floor, filling the room with quiet plip plaps.

A chipped cup of lukewarm tea was placed in your hand. A feathery hand pushed you down onto an old rocking chair, the owner of the hand sitting down across from you. "I want you to tell me all about this new job!" Erin grinned with a toothless smile.

"It's just a small librarian job at the school up top." You said, sipping your tea.

"Up top! With all those-those monsters?" Erin screeched.

"They're not all monsters! Some of them—"

"(Y/n). When your mother died I promised your father I'd make sure that you were safe! W-wouldn't you rather stay home? Marry a nice Yokai and settle down?" Erin tottered closer to you and grabbed your hands.

You chuckled, "I'm not exactly looking for someone to settle down with yet. I'm ready to get out there and explore! Besides, I can protect myself!" You said, proudly.

"E-even with all the humans?" Erin stuttered.

You blinked at Erin, your face neutral, "Mrs. Erin. I'm human."

"I know! B-but you're one of the good ones! I'd hate for you to go up top where I won't know what happened—Oh!" The old Yokai snatched the cup of tea from your hands and peered into the old china. She glared at the leaves and swirled the remaining liquid in the cup. With a gasp that jostled your core, Erin’s beak stretched into a long smile. She breathed a sigh of relief and set down the cup. “I was worried for nothing. You’re going to fall in love and get married to a nice, young, handsome Yokai.”

You shook your head, yet a smile still sat on your cheeks, “Maybe in a couple of years, Mrs. Erin. I’m not in any rush to get married to anyone right now.”

“Oh, I’m sure!” The Heron chuckled like she knew something you didn’t. Without warning, she began pushing you out of the house. “Okay, bye-bye now! The quicker you go up top the faster you fall in love!” With that, the door was slammed in your face, the sound echoing through the marshy area.

“Love you too.” You said flatly. You pulled the mystery phone back out of your pocket and put in your earbuds again. When you clicked onto Spotify, a notification popped up.

“Leonardo Hamato back in NYC for upcoming movie shoot, exclusive interview from Channel 10.”

Huh. How weird would it be if you ran into your favorite actor while after just moving back up top? Probably entirely impossible, but it was nice to hope, right?

"Shoved in a box?! Did you hear him?"

"I did."

"Shoved in a box?! Ugh! He's just so—"

"Annoying, pompous, overconfident, lacking in empathy, ass-like?"

Mikey turned to Donnie, his hair falling into his face as his head whipped around. "I was gonna say stupid, but yeah, those work too." Mikey nodded, turning back to the T.V, seeing the reporters final words to the camera once Leo left the cameras view.

Donnie felt himself N.E., which stood for Nose Exhale. Mikey learned that phrase years ago and thought it was more fitting than L.O.L for his emotionally unavailable brother. While it was rare for Donnie to "laugh out loud", when he found something humorous, he always let out a little breath of a chuckle through his nose.

"I just...out of everything he could have done...why'd he have to take away the one thing that..."

When Mikey paused, Donnie looked up from his purple holographic screens that he had been typing on. He saw Mikey looking at the screen sadly, and he knew it wasn't from the sad dog commercial that came on, but the interview that came before it. "That what, Michael?" Donnie asked, the screens disappearing.

"Nothing, it's stupid," Mikey sniffed, wiping his eyes before tears could escape.

"Leo is stupid, you're emotionally intelligent. You obviously have a reason to feel what you feel. You're not stupid for feeling emotions, Michelangelo." Donnie used his full name with the intention of leaving an impact.

Mikey chuckled and turned to Donnie, tears running down his smiling face, "Thanks, D."

Donnie nodded and sat up in his bean bag (yes it was his, the purple color made it obvious), "I may have taken a page or two from Dr. Delicate Touch," he shrugged.

"Nah, that was Dr. Feelings for sure," Mikey joked, knowing his brother was rather uncomfortable with feelings, but to be fair, he had gotten a lot better. Realizing this, Mikey sighed. Donnie appreciated honesty over anything, so this was something he needed to get off his chest, for his sake and his brother's. "Dad always called us by the color of our masks. Red, Orange, Purple...but Leo's not wearing his anymore. It's like he disowned us...he's not Blue anymore." Mikey began tucking his head and limbs into his shell with every word. By the end of his sentence, only his shell was visible sitting in front of the empty recliner.

This time Donnie sighed, he stood and gripped the purple beanbag so it stayed comfortably on his rear while he shuffled towards his brother. Letting gravity help him, Donnie let himself and the beanbag fall to the ground. He wiggled slightly and hummed, pleased at the fact that his position hadn't changed and the beanbag was still holding his shell and rear perfectly. Using his hand, he hesitantly patted Mikey's shell in comfort. "Leonardo's done some idiotic things in the past. I'd put this in his top ten, actually." Donnie thought aloud, but shook his head, remembering his original point, "He’s a dumb-dumb but, unfortunately, he'll never stop being our brother."

Mikey poked his head out, looking in Donnie's eyes for...something. A lie? Hope? Donnie didn't know, but whatever he found, he liked it, because the next moment, Mikey had his head and limbs out. He outstretched his arms, but didn't move aside from that. Donnie rolled his eyes, although a small smile poked at his lips. With a nod from Donnie, Mikey jumped onto him, giving him the tightest hug that he thought he'd ever received. Donnie hugged back.

Thankfully for Donnie, Mikey understood boundaries, and separated from Donnie before the hug got too overwhelming. Sloppily wiping his tears and sucking up his snot, Mikey gave Donnie a sincere smile. "Thanks, Don."

Donnie nodded, a small smile on his own lips. Out of his battle shell came a robotic arm holding a tissue. Mikey took the tissue and blew his nose as the robotic arm retracted back into the shell. "Hey-"

"I would prefer if you finished blowing your nose before you change the subject, please." Donnie asked, pulling up his holographic screens once more with the help of his Ninpō.

Mikey obeyed, then tossed the tissue into the trashcan on the other side of the room. When it landed, Mikey pumped his fist in a silent cheer. "What happened at the Mystic City? We were chasing Meat Sweats and you stopped to talk to some girl." Mikey remembered.

"Oh, yeah. Raph was texting about meeting for dinner, so I naturally opened my messages to form a reply, when—" Donnie pulled out his phone to show Mikey the texts when he immediately felt something amiss. The case was the same, the weight was equal to his phone, the model was the exact same, everything looked fine. But this is Donnie, he lost his phone for less than a day and went nearly insane when he was still a teenager. Give him a week and he might've made a phone from just things in the woods. He knew everything about his phone.

"Donnie?" Mikey called, noticing his brother's sudden silence.

Shakily, Donnie turned over the phone, noticing the background first, then the surplus of texts and calls from his phone number. He whispered something too quiet for Mikey to hear.

"What?" Mikey asked, putting his hand up to the side of his head where his ear would have been.

"This. Isn't. My. Phone."

[mochinek0]

Diner Girl

"So, we finally get to meet your girlfriend, in person?" Tim questioned.

"I'm already regretting this decision." Damian declared.

Jason chuckled, "Why? You think she'll like us more?"

"More like drive her away." Damian snarled.

"Relax, Little D." Dick smiled, "We won't do anything of the sort. Besides, it's been three years."

Damian sighed as they pulled up to the diner. Marinette had stated she was busy working until 5pm. The Wayne boys couldn't wait to meet her and asked if they could meet her at her work for a quick bite. They even said they could head out from there and take her home. He knew his brothers would try to convince her to change and go out instead.

Marinette heard the ding of the door opening and turned to see her boyfriend and his family. She smiled and looked at the clock.

'Thirty more minutes until I get off the clock. Maybe they'd like some appetizers.'

The Waynes sat down and saw Marinette subtly wave at them.

"My God, did you see her?"

"It suits her."

"I'm shocked she hasn't dropped anything yet."

Tim quickly took out his phone. He made sure to look interested at it, as he noticed the people in the booth behind them point at Marinette. He made sure his phone was still focused on them as his little brother's girlfriend approached the table.

"Sorry, for the wait." Mari spoke, "What can I get you to drink?"

"Hey, Pixie. Can I get a strawberry milkshake?" Jason questioned.

"Pixie?" she repeated.

"Because you're tiny and cute." he smiled.

His answered earned him a quick kick to the shin by Damian.

"Ow! You brat!" Jason yelled.

Damian flipped him off.

"Ignore them." Dick commented, "I'll take a limoncello float."

"Black coffee." declared Tim.

"Damian?" Marinette questioned, "Chai tea?"

"Yes." he answered.

Marinette smiled and walked away from their table.

"Oh, so she knows you favorites now?" Jason teased.

"Shut up." Damian growled.

"The butter knives aren't sharp enough and you know it." Tim sighed, noticing the girls in the next booth glaring at them.

Tim continued to appear interested in his phone.

'This isn't going to end well.'

Lila smirked as she tipped over her drink and it clattered to the floor.

"Oops." she spoke.

Alya snickered as the drink covered the floor.

"Clean it up, Lila." Adrien declared, "Now."

"Why would I do that, Adrien?" Lila questioned, "I don't work here."

"Well, if that is how you think, I can say you won't have a job anywhere." he replied.

Alya, Nino, and Lila looked at him shocked.

"You can't do that!" Alya shouted.

Adrien smiled and leaned back, "It's my father's company. Father expects perfection everywhere; especially in public."

"But my wrist hurts!" Lila whined, "It's why I spilled it. It was an accident."

He sighed, "We both know you're full of shit."

"Adrien!" Alya gasped.

"You are only special in your own head and it shows." he declared.

"Dude!" Nino cried out, surprised.

Marinette walked towards the table behind them and slipped on the scattered ice. Damian quickly grabbed her, preventing an accident, but the drinks still fell to the floor.

"Marinette!" the manager shouted.

"It-it wasn't my fault!" she stammered.

"You're fired!" he roared.

"But-" Marinette tried to refute.

"It's fine, Habibiti." Damian spoke.

"Yeah." Jason replied, "We'll leave."

The manager glared at her, "See! Now, you are making the patrons leave."

"The only reason we came here was to see Marinette." Dick annouced.

"Besides, " Tim spoke, "maybe you should hire Sausage Hair, there. Seems she'll be out of a job soon."

"Were you spying on us?" Alya shrieked.

"Recorded your conversations, too." Tim commented, "Planning to trip her? Classic."

"You're just jealous that Pixie Pop is better than you." Jason replied.

Lila stood up, in outrage, "I'm the daughter of an ambassador! I am a model for Gabriel Agreste! I travel the world and help with various charities! I know Prince Ali of Achu and Jagged Stone. I help Prince Ali in his environmental charities and I'm Jagged Stone's niece!"

The Waynes laughed. The manager noticed Marinette covering her mouth, but she was laughing, none the less.

'What is going on?'

"One: Prince Ali works in children's hospitals, not environmental projects." Dick stated, "He donates to our charities, all the time."

"Two: Marinette knows Jagged Stone. She is his 'niece', as well as his personal designer." Tim declared, "She doesn't even need this job, but she thought it would get her out of having kids thrown her way for unpaid babysitting gigs, at the last moment."

"Three: You are a waste of space from what Blondie was saying." Jason scoffed.

Damian smirked, "Go ahead. Tell her who we are Agreste. You've spoken to us before."

Adrien relaxed and smiled, "You're the Waynes. Your father is an international billionare."

Lila and the manager's faces drained of color.

Damian turned his glare to the manager, "Four: The only reason we were in your pathetic place was because of the angel in my arms."

"What's so special about her, anyways?" Alya snapped.

"She's my girlfriend." Damian announced.

The Waynes smiled behind him. Lila tensed up and looked between Marinette and the Wayne. Adrien just smiled and the manager sensed he had made a huge mistake.

"Come along, Angel." Damian spoke, "We'll take you home and we'll treat you to dinner."

"I have five restaurants ready to take our reservation in three hours." Tim declared.

Dick smiled, "We can settle it in the car."

"Sorry, I was such a bother, Damian." Marinette whispered.

Damian leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips, "You are never a bother to me. Though, you also have to thank Agreste there. He was trying to get the bitch to clean up the mess she made, before you came over."

Marinette smiled, "Thanks, Adrien."

"Oh, you're welcome, Mari." Adrien replied,, "Sorry, you ended up falling and getting fired."

Marinette just shrugged it off, "Like Tim said, I don't need this job. I just tired of Alya and Nino dumping their siblings at me for free babysitting gigs. I mostly took this out of spite. I'll be moving out of my parents' place this year; I didn't want to deal with packing and trying to take care of kids for some people who hate me."

"Come on, Pixie Pop!" Jason shouted, "Let's blow this popsicle stand!"

Dick smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder, "We can drop you off and we can go change in our suits that you made us."

Marinette smiled brighter, "They fit, right? Nothing needs to be adjusted?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jason asked, leading the way out the door, "Like a glove! Best monkey suit I've worn!" making her giggle.

"Do we need to stop anywhere to get you dressed up?" Tim asked.

Mari scoffed, "You think I wouldn't have dressy clothes? I have to travel with Jagged to his functions."

"Rock and Roll!" Jason smiled.

Damian kept his arm snug around Marinette's waist as they left the diner with a smile.

"Move, Lila." Adrien demanded.

"Huh?" she spoke, confused by the hostility coming out of his mouth.

"I need to leave." he declared

"But-" Nino spoke.

Adrien pointed to the door as Natalie walked in. She quickly spotted the blonde's coiffed hair and walked towards them.

"Adrien, those were-" she bean.

"The people Lila just humiliated herself in front of and they recorded the whole thing?" Adrien stated, throwing her fully under the bus.

Natalie glared at her as she quickly moved, allowing Adrine out of the booth. Adrien walked around the mess and spotted one of the dishtowels that Mari had dropped onto the floor. He picked it up and threw it right in Lila's face. She sputtered as she removed the soaked towel from her face. It was painfully obvious by the two toned skin color that most of her makeup was wiped off on the wet towel.

Adrien smiled, "You might want to get use to your new job."

"They know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" Natalie questioned.

"Marinette is dating the youngest Wayne. Unless, Mari puts him in a good mood, Lila is likely to-" Adrien declared as his phone went off rapidly.

He pulled his phone out as Natalie looked towards her tablet.

"Oh, never mind. Timothy Drake-Wayne blasted Lila on twitter. The co-CEO of Wayne Enterprise just showed the world how two-faced Father's model really is." Adiren overdramatically sighed, "He posted the whole video of Lila pretending to be injured and purposefully making Marinette slip. He also posted Marinette getting horribly fired and all of the Waynes calling Lila a huge liar to her face. That's really not a good look for Gabriel."

Natalie tightened her grip on the tablet, "I'll call your father to see how he wants to deal with this new situation, seeing as we were suppose to meet the Waynes tomorrow."

Adrien smiled, "I'm pretty sure that the girl Lila got fired is the Waynes' personal designer."

Lila gulped and slowly sat back in the booth.

"If that is the case, I agree with Adrien, Miss Rossi; I would start looking for a new job." Natalie commanded.

Adrien walked out of the diner with Natalie in tow. Lila sat there frozen until Alya reached out and touched her hand.

"It's gonna be okay, Lila." Alya smiled, "It's-"

Lila tore her arm away from the journalist grasp and glared at her. She got up quickly and tried to rush out the door. In her hurry, she had forgotten about the spill and slipped. Lila fell forward but landed awkwardly, attempting to catch herself. She was rushed to the hospital with a broken arm.

As Nino drove Alya home, she sniffled as she looked through her phone. Her blog was being torn to shreds by people around the world. They were pointing out every lie and detail on how everything Lila said was fake. The comment that hurt the most was: I can't believe this blogger wants to be a reporter! Doesn't this girl know the basics for a reporter? It's called fact checking! Google isn't that hard to use!

TAGLIST:  TAG LIST:  @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[whorergal]

SURPRISED?

summary: you're ghostface instead of ethan…

warnings: descriptions of blood & murder. overall really gory. language (cussing).

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, platonic sam carpenter x fem!reader, enemies quinn bailey x fem!reader

authors note: ethan and quinn aren't related in this one btw!! i really liked this idea so here's me trying my best to write it to the best of my ability 😭 also anika lives bc she's my pookie <3

——————————————————————————————

You sat in Quinn's room, making sure to stay clear from the windows she had purposely left open. Messages from Ethan and your friends in general went crazy as they wondered where you were and why you weren't answering. You rolled your eyes, understanding their worry but seeing as you were the cause behind their constant paranoia, you found it annoying to be bothered.

Quinn had left her room, saying she needed to not act suspicious. Her hookup would be making his grand reveal in a couple of minutes where you would be hiding in the closet, hoping to not be forced to witness something that would physically make you ill.

Noises outside the room got louder as you heard everyone laughing. It brought a smile to your face until you forced yourself to drop it.

Yes, you loved your friends. You had known Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sam your whole life—how could you not grow to love them? But, then again, you weren't planning their demise half the time you spent with them until last year when you grew vengeful.

Ethan was just an fortunate bonus you collected once moving to New York that happened to please Quinn, her being the mastermind and all. She liked the idea of getting someone like him to trust you just like how her brother Richie did with Sam.

Although, you did end up falling for Ethan and not just for the act. It was never in your head to make him love you just to hurt him in the end until Quinn meddled into your life and found out about you two. Then, the thought of your reveal and how he would react never left your mind. For some reason, it never crossed your thoughts that you would eventually have to face him seeing as you were too in love with him to kill him.

Your phone screen lit up, a picture of Ethan you took when he was studying popped up. You sighed, making sure to keep your voice low as you answered. "Hey, E."

"Y/N/N, where are you? I thought you said you'd be coming over tonight?" Ethan's worried voice caused your heart to swell. God, you hated lying to him.

"Yeah, I know but I'm still stuck in class," you lied very effortlessly. "My teacher offered to give us extra time to prepare for our next exam so I decided to stay. I might be around in an hour or two."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stayed with you," he immediately told you. "I hate knowing you're alone."

"E, I'm fine. I'm in a class full of thirty other people plus my professor," you reassured him, staring into the ceiling.

"Doesn't matter, Y/N/N. What if Ghostface attacks you on your way over? Or what if he's there at—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted his rambling. "Look, I've done this once before, he'll have to try a lot harder then sneak attacking me while I'm in an Econ class."

"Y/N, I'm being serious," Ethan said sternly.

"So am I," you countered with a breathless chuckle. "How about this? I'll call you when I'm on my way over and we can facetime so you can make sure I'm okay."

The line was quiet until you heard a soft, "okay."

"I love you, E," you told him sadly, hoping he couldn't tell as you continued. "Please be safe. If anything happens, don't play the hero, okay? I can't lose you."

You were saying that mostly for yourself. You'd be the one behind the mask and if he did get in the way, you'd be forced to do something you didn't want to do. You had managed to steer Quinn clear from him until tonight and the last thing you wanted to do was cause him any ounce of pain.

"I should be telling you that," he told you with a smile, you could hear it through his voice. "I'll try not to, alright. Just…I love you. If anything does happen tonight and I can't say it again, just know that I really love you, Y/N."

"Don't say that, E," you interrupted. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't control it, Y/N/N," he let out weakly. "But I'm sure nothing's gonna happen, okay? So just worry about your exam and call me later. I love you."

"I love you too, E," you mumbled sadly.

"Get a room!" you heard Mindy yell in the background.

"Minds, stop. It's cute," Sam defended you two.

"Bye, E." You laughed; you couldn't help it.

You hung up the phone, staring down at his contact picture for a second longer. For some reason, that one conversation alone had you rethinking your choices. Would it be so bad to back out of the plan now? Quinn and her dad can take care of the rest—you only had to do with those two college nerds deaths and another guy who you'd seen bothering Ethan on campus, but that was it. The rest was Wayne, which was only the bodega and Sam's therapist.

The thought of even having to possibly kill Sam, especially Sam, because of how close you were with her made you sick to your stomach. So, why were you still apart of a plan that ensured her death along with your friends?

Your second thoughts were interrupted by the swift open of Quinn's door. The redhead came barging in, wearing her pink silk nightgown that barely reached her thighs.

"Nice conversation with your boyfriend," she told you with a certain distaste in her tone.

"Had to make sure I didn't sound suspicious," you defended yourself, getting up from the floor but staying in the corner of the room. You were lying.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How long are you going to string him along? He's going to hate you when he finds out what you've done…that's if he survives that long."

"He stays out of our plan, remember?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she whined, walking over to mess with your black robe. "He takes you away from me all the time."

You shoved her away. "I told you, Quinn; you and your dad don't touch him. That was our only agreement."

"Yeah, it was when you realized you loved him," she had to point out. "He's turning you against us. Before you met him, you were excited to get revenge just like us."

"No, he's not but is it bad for me to not want to see the one person I actually care about harmed? It's not my fault that the only person you cared about was murdered."

"Just because you're apart of this plan doesn't mean I won't kill you," Quinn threatened as your words fell loosely from your mouth. You just couldn't stand when she badmouthed Ethan in front of you.

"Oh, shut up," you replied annoyedly. "Your dad won't even let you get behind the mask."

Quinn got quiet because it was true until she spoke, having to have the final word. "Fine, you got kills but do you really think Ethan would date a murderer? What're going to do when we complete act three? You think he's going to want to be with you after you helped kill his friends?"

"Fuck off," you snapped, letting her words get under your skin which you shouldn't have.

Quinn was going to continue bothering you but her phone went off. Her current boyfriend of the month was on his way up, forcing you to put the mask over your head and hide inside the closet.

Surprisingly, she didn't do much with him. You were sure she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make you watch her but it seemed she was excited to get on with the plan. It only made up of occasional frisky touching, some things that were still counted as sexual activities that did make you look away but nothing too extravagant.

He ended up leaving to her connected bathroom to take a shower, saying how he felt dirty. Quinn then started to call her dad, basically filling him in and then she turned to you, gesturing for you to make your grand appearance as she saw Danny standing by his window just like planned.

Your boots helped make you seem taller as you stalked toward her very slowly. Her back was facing you as she rambled on the call about something. Your hand gripped your knife as the thought of actually killing her surfaced in your head. No, you couldn't do that.

Noises coming from across the window caught your attention as you looked up, seeing Danny pointing at you while yelling words you couldn't hear. You tilted your head at him, walking away inside the bathroom.

Killing her boyfriend wasn't too hard as you caught him off guard but the scene had become gory. You'd taken your pent up anger on the poor guy, his blood covering the entire room that you didn't notice until you backed away from where he laid lifelessly in the tub, naked.

You grimaced at yourself and what you had done.

Walking back into the room, you decided to start the act earlier than Quinn wanted, knowing it would piss her off. You rose your knife and planted it straight into the mattress, startling her as she let out an authentic gasp.

She began to scream, making sure to keep it leveled so it didn't sound too suspicious to everyone outside her room. She needed them to believe she was having sex so they wouldn't interrupt before she could get in her costume, which was just covering her entire body with fake blood and a few slashes from your knife to make it even more realistic.

You pulled her up, wrapping your arm around her neck just as you saw Danny take a picture. Then you tossed her to the floor where she crawled to the fake blood and splattered it all over herself and her room.

A couple more seconds, she continued to scream until she stopped and you heard the group outside running toward the door until the silence made them halt.

"Showtime," Quinn whispered proudly.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You held her up, taking a second to let her collect herself before you threw the door open and charged her body at them. Quinn fell on Anika, taking her and Mindy down as the girl screamed at Quinn's "dead" body.

Then, everyone scattered. You saw Chad pull Ethan and Tara toward the direction of the door and you decided to let them go on the account it would mean Ethan was safe. You headed straight toward Mindy, slashing her in the arm, knowing it would be enough to make her weak as blood always made her squeamish to the point she would pass out at times.

Your goal was to get Mindy. That was the plan Quinn had created for you to do but you couldn't. The rush of it all hit you once you saw her hunch over to hold her wound, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood.

Anika was about to attack you for what you had done to her girlfriend but you got smacked in the face but a large object, sending you flying against the TV. When you peered through your mask, you saw Ethan's familiar light blue shirt and his curly hair, reaching down to help Mindy and Anika. Fuck, you thought. You should've known.

"Come on," he urged them both up.

You collected yourself quickly, slicing him in the arm and throwing him and Mindy against the table. The sound of his wince caused your heart to break but at least he wasn't in your way anymore.

Turning, you gripped Anika and pulled her up by the throat, which wasn't that hard at how light she was to carry. You slammed her against the wall and drove the knife in her gut. She let out a scream that actually made you sad. You could feel yourself losing grip on your knife. Thankfully, you were hit in the head again, causing you to fall to the floor and drop Anika.

Sam dropped the knife dispenser and went reaching for Anika as she carried her inside Quinn's bedroom. Ethan and Mindy were following closely behind. You got up and slammed against the door, causing Sam and Ethan to push against you even harder.

You stopped, remembering the second entrance to Quinn's room. You ran around and almost got through until you saw Ethan immediately run to slam the door in your face. Without thinking, you slipped through the crack and swung your knife around which sliced his skin again, making him even more annoyed, putting full force in his last push. You fell back just as you heard Sam and Mindy put a dresser against it so you couldn't enter.

Would it be so bad to let them go? You were about to give up until you looked behind at where Quinn was playing dead and she gave you a head gesture, as if telling you to get through that door and do something.

You started to kick it, slam your body against it, and slowly but surely the door started to crack. You could finally see in and you saw that they were trying to leave through the window on a ladder, thanks to Danny. You rolled your eyes, growing psychically exhausted but you continued to push against the door, the dresser beginning to shake.

Purposely, you didn't use your strength. You wanted them to survive. Poor Anika made you see that once you saw the gutted look on her face. You weren't close with her but she was a nice girl and she deserved to live. So did Sam and Mindy. Especially so did Ethan.

Sam went first, you caught sight of her hair just as she made it through. Then, Ethan of course had to make sure one of the girls went before him. Mindy gave Anika a kiss, thinking it'd be their last as she shakily made it on the ladder and got through. You continued to slam against the door as you watched Ethan pick Anika up from the bed, walking her toward the window where he helped her get on the ladder and kept it stable for her.

She took awhile to get through that you unfortunately made it inside just as Ethan was barely exiting the window. You stalked toward it slowly because you knew you weren't going to let him die.

"Ethan, you have to hurry!" Sam and Mindy screamed.

He turned around and the scared look on his face could've been enough to kill you. You slammed your knife on the window sill and grabbed the ladder.

They all were expecting some foul play on your end, encouraging him to be quicker but you didn't. Instead, you held the ladder down and stabilized it for him. Sam watched in shock. She was the only one who noticed your action that had been completely out of character.

Ethan made it inside Danny's apartment a second after and they all looked at you. You tilted your head at them, pulling your knife out. Then, you were gone. You didn't even wait for Quinn because you needed to get out of that costume and in Ethan's arms as quick as possible.

[mermaidxatxheart]

Ribbed II

This is the sequel to Ribbed. I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs show me love.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 4450

Warnings: Benny is taking over as the pussy eating king. Sorry Pedro, usual smut, idk. does it even matter?

Previous Part

Master List

Come over.

You stare at the text message for a solid minute before dropping your phone onto your desk. Benny needed to stop. What happened between the two of you last week could never happen again. He’s your brother’s best friend, and if Mick ever found out, he would probably explode. 

Please?

You groan and flip your phone screen down to avoid temptation. You flex your fingers over your keyboard and try to focus on your work. But the memory of Benny crowds your memory, fighting for dominance at the forefront of your brain. 

“That’s my girl.” Whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder. “So fucking good.” A breathy moan, your name a desperate plea that traces down your spine. 

“God damn it.” You mutter, grabbing your phone. 

I have air conditioning.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You type out a quick reply, fingers flying over the keys on your screen. 

We can’t. It has to be just the one time. We were drunk. It doesn’t count. 

Setting your phone down, you shake your hands as you try to rid yourself of the anxiety bubbling up inside you. 

I don’t want it to be just the one time. It definitely counts if I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. 

You press your thighs together, fighting against the memory of the way he felt there. The tender feel of his lips against yours. It didn’t feel like a random hookup at the time, but you’re definitely a coward. You’ve been avoiding both Benny and your brother ever since that night. 

Come over.

Staring at his name, with his picture, your weak will power crumbles and your fingers are typing before you can really protest or talk yourself out of it. 

…..when?

Tonight?

You sigh, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. 

Fine. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work!

He doesn’t text you back, but that’s just as bad. Jesus, fix it. 

***

You pull up in front of Benny’s house, looking at the windows with no small amount of trepidation. You can’t loiter outside all night and if you don’t show, he’ll just pester you until you do. You shut off the engine and climb out, heading for the front door. 

Your fist hovers over the wood for a long time as you get your courage up. If he doesn’t have you naked within ten minutes, it’ll be a miracle. 

You groan, give your whole body a forceful shake and rap quickly on the door before you can talk yourself out of it. You stare at the welcome mat beneath your heels, wishing you had stopped at home to change out of your work dress and into comfortable leggings and flip flops. The wait stretches out and you tell yourself you’ll give him thirty more seconds before you leave and tell him you knocked but he didn’t answer. His fault. 

Then the door opens and a gust of what can only be described as Benny hits you and your knees go weak. Irish spring soap, hint of sweat, old spice deodorant, and something specific to him that makes it all work. 

“Hey, I’m just making-wow.” He says softly and you look up, frowning. You wish you hadn’t. He’s wearing gym shorts that hang loosely on him, a Motley Crüe tee shirt, his stupid backward hat, and a dish towel slung over his broad shoulder. Droplets are clinging to his hair, like he’s just gotten out of the shower. Looking so domestic shouldn’t be such a turn on. You have to force yourself not to notice all the little things about him that make you want to drop your panties right here in the doorway. 

“What?”

“You look amazing.” He says, stepping back to let you in. 

“Oh.” You enter carefully, determined not to slip on the polished hardwood floor. Benny never struck you as the type to have his shit together. He seems like the type that bounces around from apartment to apartment when his lease is up, the bare minimum of furniture: a couch, a tv, a bed. But his house is… nice. The hardwood floors are well taken care of, polished, clean, dust free. There are pictures and decorations hanging on the wall, some of it art, some of it personal. There’s a rug under a coffee table and the most comfortable looking couch you’ve ever seen, plush and tall. It looks like it will cradle you and support you in all the right ways. There’s a damn shoe rack by the door, what the fuck. 

You pause, looking at the shoe rack with his boots and sneakers lined up neatly. You lift your foot to pull off your heel and he stammers. 

“You can leave them on.” He manages and you chuckle. 

“I don’t wanna scratch your floors.” You say, but also, your toes are cramping. He offers his hand for you to use as balance and you grip it tightly, pulling off your shoes and placing them on the rack. You look back up at him, significantly taller than you now. 

“You said you were making something?” You prompt and he nods, pulling the towel off his shoulder. 

“Chicken Marsala.” He says, turning and heading for the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I thought maybe we could talk…” he trails off. He stirs a pot on the stove and you lean against the door frame, watching him. 

“Talk?” You repeat. 

“Yeah. I figure we owe it to each other.” He says, licking sauce off his finger as he meets your gaze. “Right?” You nod mutely. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some wine?”

“I think drinking is what got us into this situation.” You remind him and he grins. 

“Fair.” He grabs a bottle of your favorite red wine and sets it on the island bar. “Whenever you want it.” He says, going back to cooking. 

Oh, what the hell. You’re gonna need something to make it through this. You pour yourself a glass and move through to the living room. There’s a dining table off to the side, in front of some sliding glass doors to the backyard. There are actual chairs at the table, a complete set. Color you impressed. 

A polished mirror hangs over a side table with pictures of him and his war buddies. You look at the pictures, Benny catching your eye in every single one. Strong, tall, competent. Then you lift your gaze to the mirror and spot him watching you from the kitchen. He sends you a warm smile, wiping his fingers on the towel. You straighten your shoulders and a mark at the base of your neck catches your attention. 

Instantly, you remember Benny over you, pressing you into your couch, sucking and biting on your neck as you cum around him. Your face flushes and you drop your gaze once more. You need stronger willpower. But then, there’s a reason your gym membership has lapsed and there’s a half eaten package of Oreos you got yesterday. 

Soft fingers trail lightly down your arm and your entire body electrifies. You suck in a breath, looking up to meet Benny’s gaze in the mirror. You can see the plates on the table but as you turn, you only have eyes for him. His gaze is intense, trapping you. Memories of that night dance through your mind, the way he felt on you, the desperate way he held you. 

You want it again. Your brain short circuits and before you know it, you’ve pulled him to you and you’re kissing him. 

God, you don’t realize how much you need this. His hands grip your back, lifting you and kissing you like his very life depends on it. He lifts you up and walks you backward into the edge of the table, still kissing you desperately. You moan against his lips, dragging in a ragged breath of air before giving back into him. 

His lips are feverish as they trail down your jaw, your neck, leaving blisters of pure bliss. He has you up on the table before you even realize it, leaving marks on your neck. The heat that blazes down your spine is unreal as you pull his face back up to yours. 

Did he kiss you like this last time? This feels different, almost possessive. 

His big hand slides up your thigh, avoiding that spot behind your knee as he grips the meat of it, spreading you a little wider for him. His hips are rocking against yours, dry humping you despite the fact that he towers over you. 

Fuck, he’s a great kisser. 

You rock back against him, trying to angle your hips for better friction. The heat is pooling low in your belly now, simmering while all of his attention is focused above your waist. 

“Lean back.” He whispers, pulling away from your mouth just long enough to urge you backward. You want to keep kissing him, you never want the kissing to end, but the look in his pretty blue eyes has you obeying. 

He drags his nose down your torso, kissing the fabric of your work dress as he goes, his fingers curling around the hem of it at your thighs. He pulls it up as far as the table will let him. He guides your feet to his shoulders, kissing your ankles.

“Lift your hips, baby.” He says and you hesitantly push against his shoulders. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He promises, gripping your calves. You push a little harder, surprised when he doesn’t budge an inch. Your hips lift off the table and he pushes your dress up over your waist, exposing your stomach as well. He steps closer, lifting you higher and he pulls your panties down slowly, watching them track down your thighs, over your knees, your shins before they’re dangling on your ankles in front of his face.

You expect him to push into you, primed as you are in this position, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kneels, lowering your legs slowly. He takes off your panties and they disappear, never to be seen again. He guides your legs to either side of his head, dragging his nose up your thighs, inhaling and kissing his way. 

“You smell like heaven.” He murmurs, spreading your lips. “Fuck.” He moans, licking a slow stripe up your heated center. You whimper at the promise of pleasure. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, Benny Miller knows how to eat pussy. 

His tongue flicks at your clit and the series of moves he does next leaves you breathless and gripping at his hair. His hat had been knocked off at some point during your make out session. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp and he dives deeper, fingers gripping your waist as he holds you to him, drinking from you like he’s dying of thirst. His blue eyes flicker to yours and he buries his mouth against your clit, sucking it right off your body. He growls, it vibrates through you and you arch off the table at it. “F-fuck! Right there right there.” You urge and he doubles his efforts, shoving you head first over the edge. You cum in his mouth and he slurps it all up, not showing any sign of slowing down. 

Your muddled mind flashes on a comment he made last week, Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand.

Oh god. 

His tongue and lips are pulling noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. No part of you is left neglected by his mouth, he’s determined to live up to his word. Your legs are shaking as his tongue nudges and swirls and flicks at your clit. You’re trying not to trap his head between your thighs, but somehow you really don’t think he’d mind. He moans, and that needy sound sends you over the edge again. Your hips buck and you grab for his big hands. He laces his fingers with yours, blue eyes on your face again. 

His tongue laps at your slit, catching your cum, but he doesn’t come up for air. He just keeps eating you. Puffs of his breath skate over your mound and he’s back to sucking your clit right off your body. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp, vision spinning and you feel his grin. You try to pull at your stuff dress, it’s restricting, you can’t breathe in it. He urges you to one more orgasm, this time your legs do trap his head for a minute as you tremble through it. Then he pulls away, almost reluctantly, helping you sit up. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress, baby.” He mutters, reaching around you to unzip it. You wrap your arms around his waist for support as he does the work. You can’t help yourself, you press kisses against his chest, nuzzling into him. He’s so solid, so permanent against you. In return, he’s kissing along your neck as he struggles with your zipper for a second. “How do you do this by yourself in the morning?” He mutters, lips fluttering against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. You moan, arching into him. 

“It’s easier in the morning.” You pull at the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers along his taut muscles. You lift it up to expose his bare chest and you lick and kiss at him, blindly finding a nipple and teasing it with your tongue. 

“Mmm.” He hums, finally sliding the zipper down. He pulls it, loosening the dress around you before lifting the dress off over your head. His lips are on yours before it’s even left his hands. He’s kissing you desperately, holding your body tight against his. Fucking shouldn’t have this much kissing, right? He shouldn’t be kissing you like his very life depends on it. And yet, you’re kissing him back just as hard. His fingers pinch your bra clasp and that’s gone in the blink of an eye. You’re fully naked on his dining room table. 

“Can you stand?” He asks softly, pulling away enough to tilt your head back and kiss along your throat. 

“Yeah, I think so.” You reply, holding onto his shoulders. 

“Okay. Lay back.” He urges, kissing down your chest and trapping a nipple in his mouth. 

You lay back, the wood cold against your newly exposed skin. He kisses his way down your body and spreads your thighs once more. 

“You’re fucking delicious. I could spend hours doing this to you.” He says, tracing your clit lightly with his thumb. You buck your hips in response to the touch and he chuckles. “In fact, I just might.” He adjusts your hips and dives in again, starting off strong. You moan, not sure how much more you can take from his perfect mouth. 

He lets your legs drape over his broad shoulders, big hands now cupping your tits and teasing your nipples as he eats you to blinding orgasm after orgasm. One bleeds into the next, your eyes are rolled back into your head, or crossed, you don’t even know. Your thighs are shaking constantly, but you can’t move, can’t squirm, he hasp you trapped. He’s making just as much noise as you are, moaning and growling possessively 

After six, or maybe nine? You try to push his head away, whimpering. “N-n-no more.” You beg and he’s slow to pull off, still sucking your clit as he does. 

“Fucking best pussy I’ve ever had.” He says, massaging your thighs a little. “You did so good.” He looks down at you, panting and boneless on his table. “Mhm, I need you like this every day.” He says, moving around you and hooking his arms under your knees and shoulders. 

“Can’t handle every day.” You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder. 

He chuckles. “Okay, every other day.” You don’t even argue because you know now you don’t actually have the power to resist him. He’s too good, too much of what you need. 

He sets you gently on the couch and starts undressing himself as you watch. He’s a fucking work of art, muscles within muscles, long and lean and powerful. You reach for him, wanting to taste him. He stopped you last time, but you need to this time, if only to give your poor cunt a break. 

“Pretty girl,” he captures your wrist. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “I wanna taste you.” You say softly and he groans, running fingers through his messy hair. 

“Can you kneel?” He asks, moving around to the back of the couch. You nod and roll, propping yourself over the back of it. It’s the perfect height for him. He strokes his hard cock, giving it a forceful tug as you open your mouth. “If you make me cum before I have a chance to fuck you again,” he starts.

“I’ll just get you hard again.” You promise, reaching for his shaft. Remembering how good it felt inside you had you dripping. You’re not leaving without it tonight. 

You lick the tip slowly, tasting the salt of his sweat, the sweet precum. You drag your tongue around the crown and slide him into your mouth. You suck as you pull him back out, focused like a laser on this part of him. In as deep as you can get him, sucking hard on his way out. Tongue flickering against the tip and massaging along the sensitive underside as you slide him in deep. 

It isn’t until he grunts, fingers buried into the back of the couch that you think to look up at his face. Twisted in concentration, he’s watching your every move like a hawk. Your own eyebrows furrow, wondering if you’re doing it wrong. 

He lets out a breathy chuckle and smooths your eyebrows back down. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me with your hot little mouth, I’m trying not to cum immediately.” He says and you smile around his cock.

You pull it out, licking down his shaft. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I wanna taste it. Plus, I came plenty in yours. Fair is fair.” You remind him, flicking your tongue out against his balls. He hisses. You lift his hand off the back of the couch and place it in your hair. Something about a man’s hand fisting in your hair as you suck him off has you weak. Especially if that man is Benny Miller. 

You worship his balls for a minute, licking them, sucking them into your mouth as you watch his face, lazily stroking his shaft. 

“Oh fuck.” He moans, pulling your hair tie out and gathering your hair in his hands. He definitely has a thing about your hair being down while he’s with you. He did it last time, too. “Right there, baby. Oh fuck, that’s perfect.” He moans. 

You kiss back up his shaft, sliding him deep into your mouth, tapping the back of your throat as you start to bob your head. You grip his ass, pulling him closer so you can get deeper. He slides down your throat and you swallow around him. He growls and bucks his hips. 

You start bobbing your head faster, using your tongue wherever you can reach. His hips are starting to thrust, too, and watching him use your mouth for his pleasure when so far he’s been all about yours, is such a turn on. 

You pull him closer still, holding him in place where he can’t pull out at all. He’s throbbing in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer. You start sucking harder, massaging his balls. You look up at his handsome face, finding his eyes already trained on you. His cock swells in your mouth and you bury him down your throat, feeling him cum. You let him pull out slightly, his cum spurting onto your tongue and filling your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss, tasting it, rolling it around as you suck and massage his shaft for all of it. 

Finally he pulls out and you swallow every last drop with a soft hum of approval. 

“Fuck.” He surges forward, kissing you hungrily, fingers tangle in your hair as his tongue invades your mouth, licking into every corner and dancing with yours. You pump his cock, feeling how hard he still is. “You’re fucking perfect.” He groans, pulling back to look at you. You kiss him again but he only allows it for a second before pulling away. 

He moves around the couch and you’re about to sit back down but he grabs your hips. “Stay right here, beautiful. This is how I want you.”

You arch your back down, presenting your cunt to him with a playful wiggle of your ass and he groans, spreading you and licking your cunt again. “So fucking good.” He moans, starting to eat you out once more. The desperate way he’s devouring you triggers an orgasm before you can even try to stop him. You cry out, bucking and grinding against his face. He really is insatiable. He holds you firmly in place as he eats you out again, this time sliding two fingers inside. You tighten around them involuntarily as he finds your g-spot. They stick to it like glue, rubbing in time with his mouth suck you and you’re seeing stars. Mouth hanging open as he drags another three orgasms from you this way. Your cum is dripping down your thighs, his elbow, his chin, but you can’t stop. He won’t let you. 

You're nearly in tears when he finally pulls away, his fingers sliding out of your drenched cunt and leaving your trembling walls to flutter around nothing. 

You feel his cockhead press against your entrance and he slides in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. His arms brace against the back of the couch, caging you in. You can feel his broad chest, mere inches from yours. He nestles home inside you, forehead resting against the back of your skull. 

“Lean forward.” He urges, guiding you forward until you can’t anymore. He rocks into you slowly, shifting his arms around you, holding you. It’s so tender, so soft, it doesn’t belong with two people who are just fucking. But it feels right. It feels like Benny. 

Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head, down the side until he reaches your ear. “Feel so fucking good around me.” He praises softly. “So fucking good. I can’t get enough of you.” He kisses down your neck. “I’ll make it okay.” He says and you frown slightly, wondering what he means, but his words are soon forgotten as he starts to move a little more inside you, building up to a good speed. 

You whimper and he clutches your hands, holding you tight against him. You can only cling to his long fingers as he fucks you, that pleasure building fast. He’s filling you in a whole new way, reaching parts of you he didn’t last time. Kisses are pressed against your shoulder as he thrusts faster and faster, marks are sucked into your skin, claiming you for himself. 

You didn’t notice the mirror hanging on the wall across from you. It’s hanging at the perfect height to see him fucking you, lost in pleasure as he buries his face in your neck. Puffs of breath on your heated skin, and he looks up, seeing you watching him in the mirror. Never mind your own fucked out look. 

“So fucking pretty, baby. Look how good you’re taking my cock. Look how pretty you look.” He murmurs, his eyes trained on your face in the mirror. “Cum. Cum for me baby. See how pretty you are when you cum. See why I can’t get enough of you.” He urges, thrusting faster, deeper. He nibbles at your earlobe, fingers, still twisted in yours, pinching at a nipple. You buck, mouth falling open as he makes you cum. He kisses up your jaw, licking and sucking another love bite. “Fucking gorgeous.” He praises. “You have me wound so tight, I won’t last much longer, baby. You feel so good.” He growls. 

One hand stays trapped around you. The other slides between your thighs, strumming your clit and you let out a pathetic cry, cumming again. Your walls squeeze and roll against his shaft, trying to keep him inside you. 

“That’s it baby. So good. Squeeze me so tight.” He praises, keeping his fingers moving against your clit. “Keep watching us, pretty girl. Watch me cum inside you, fill you to the brim.” 

Despite the fact that your eyes desperately want to roll back in your head, you watch him in the mirror. His forehead furrowed in concentration, his eyes focused on you and you alone, his hair messy from all the times you grabbed it while he ate you out. 

Another pinch to your nipple, rolling it between his expert fingers. He licks a bead of sweat off your shoulder and you thrust back against him. 

“Do it.” You tell him, watching his face in the mirror. “Fill me up. Cum inside me. I wanna feel you filling me.” You beg and his whole face relaxes. His forehead rests against your crown. He’s mumbling something but you can’t quite make it out. He doubles his efforts on your poor abused clit, forcing another final orgasm from you before he thrusts in completely, cumming inside you. He growls, thrusting once, twice, three times to bury all his cum where it belongs. You slump in his arms, completely worn out. He rests against you, not quite his full weight but enough of it to keep you where he wants you, under him. You watch his face in the mirror, entranced by the tenderness you see there. 

He doesn’t move for a long time, keeping you stuffed full of his cock, making sure his cum doesn’t leak out. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly. 

You nod. You’re better than okay. You’re orbiting Saturn in orgasmic bliss. 

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He offers and you look at him, twisting your face to the side. 

“Yeah.” You nod and he kisses you deeply, leaving no doubt in your mind that this will happen again. Probably in a couple hours. 

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He pulls out of you with a reluctant groan and you have to agree. You’d like him to stay right there forever. 

“Then can we eat?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing. 

“Yeah, baby. We can eat.”

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose @littlenosoul

[atlas-likes-writing]

Death in the Family

Characters: Jason Todd/Red Hood, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Bruce Wayne/Batman

Summary: The world is falling. Dick and Jason are trapped under the rubble of a now-destroyed building. It takes everything to escape.

Word Count: 2325

Tags: Angst, whump, gore, graphic depictions of injuries, death/deaths in the past, swearing (but nobody actually gives a shit about that), mentions of explosions, angst with a sad ending.

Authors Note: Is the pacing goofy? Yes. Do I care? No. I will be paying in advance for everyone's therapy bills regardless. This fic was inspired by the movie "Fall" on Netflix! Let me know if you want me to tag you in my fics!

Masterlist | AO3

@qcomicsy

It’s as if the world is falling. Everything feels so heavy. An uncomfortable weight lies on his chest. Moving doesn’t help. It instead makes it worse. A disgusting feeling of wetness coats the side of his face. Is it sweat? Tears? He can’t tell. His body is heavy. His eyelids are heavy. Maybe he should just stay there. Slip into sleep again. Maybe then that weighted feeling will leave him. 

“-Bird!” 

A tiny voice sounds out in the dim. That’s peculiar. What’s the importance of a bird right now? He’ll figure that out when he wakes up. He’s too tired to care right now. 

“Jaybird!” 

The voice is clearer now. Louder, but not to the point of deafness. Loud in the way your parents are loud when they yell at you from downstairs to tell you that dinner is ready. It’s distant. Muffled. Like someone has put earmuffs over his ears. 

“For goodness' sake, Jason! Wake up!” 

That’s what got his eyes to snap open. When he does, he’s met with almost pitch black. His arms are pinned to the ground beneath him by sharp stones. No, not stones. Boulders. His left arm has clearly snapped at the force of them falling on top of him. The dull throb that emanates from the now useless limb is soon to crescendo, but for now that’s all it is; a dull throb. It’s now Jason realises that the uncomfortable weight isn’t just the feeling of impending doom as he originally thought. It’s a slab of concrete. Thick and jagged and it’s digging into his torso, surely leaving bruises in its wake. 

He begins to panic when the dust begins to settle on his eyelids. How long had he been down there? He shifts around, attempting to move any of the debris that fell on him. Immediate regret shoots through him; as does a sharp, blinding pain in his leg. He cries out. The sound of it is gravelly and clogged as if something is stuck in his esophagus. The dust around him coats everything. His skin, his helmet (which he now realises is broken), his tattered costume; everything. It sticks to the interior of his throat and makes speech scratchy. 

“Nightwing?” he calls out to the darkness, “What happened? Dick? Are you there?” 

“I’m here, Jason. Had me worried for a second there,” the voice of his brother breaks through the cracks between the rock. Relief floods through the younger man. 

“Oh, thank the gods,” he responds. “Where are you? Are you injured?” 

“I’m fine, Jaybird. Only a couple scratches. You’re the priority right now. Keep talking to me, okay? Do you remember what happened?” 

What did happen? The vigilante ignores the pounding in his head in an attempt to recall the happenings of the past thirty minutes. His mind is filled with the images of a battle with the Joker. Jason broke down at the sight of him, and his distraction resulted in the C4 at the base of the high-rise building to explode, falling directly on top of them as a result. The two men are lucky to be alive. It’s a miracle Dick scraped away with only a few bruises and scratches. 

Yeah, Dick is apparently far luckier than Jason right now. 

“The fucking Joker,” Jason spits. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Let’s focus on getting out of here first, eh? We don’t know if the rest of the family are trapped under here as well.” 

Dick’s defusal works. Jason breathes in deeply to calm his nerves. His eyesight begins to adjust to the darkness, and he can make out his surroundings more clearly. 

“Right. Yeah. You’re right. Where are you? I can’t see you anywhere.” 

“I’m next to you, Jason. Through this gap in the rock,” Dick replies. At his words, Jason tilts his head as far as his predicament will allow him (which, predictably, is not very far), and the eyes of his brother shine out in the dim between two large rocks that separate them. They’re bright and unmoving and make Jason relax a little. They always seem to have that effect. The constancy of them always ooze safety and competence no matter the situation. He’s Nightwing. His gaze can make even Batman feel safe. All it takes is a meaningful look and Jason feels calmer almost immediately. 

The younger man moves his head back to its original position, looking up at the debris instead of to the side. He closes his eyes, before throwing his head back onto the ground in frustration. 

“Fuck! This is my fault,” he exclaims. 

“We both know that’s bullshit,” Dick replies. Jason fights the urge to tut at him mockingly for his colourful language. “That man beat you to half-to-death and then caused the building you were in to explode. Nobody is blaming you for acting the way you did. This is not your fault. Stop blaming yoursel-" 

“People could be dead, Dick.” 

That shuts him up. 

The two brothers lie there in silence for a while before Jason speaks up again. 

“We should be dead, Dick.” 

“How come?” 

“What are the chances of us making it this far? You’ve been a vigilante since you were what, eight? You’ve been in the game almost as long as Bruce, and yet here you are.” 

Dick remains quiet. Jason continues. 

“Me? I did die. Quite horrifically, might I add. Yet here I am.” Jason opens his eyes and turns back to his brother. “Why am I not dead?” 

“Because it wasn’t your time.” 

“Then when is my time?” 

“Not right now, if you’re wondering.” 

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be silent. 

“You have your whole life ahead of you,” Dick states, “Now is not the time for you to talk like you want to give up.” 

“I’m legally classified as dead, Dick. There is a gravestone in the gardens of the Manor with my name on it. I’m already halfway there.” 

“And? You’re alive right now, right? Is that not excuse to keep on living?” 

Jason sighs, a heavy exhaustion settling like bricks on his body. 

“Fuck you, man.” 

“What for?” 

“For being right.” 

Dick’s eyes remain trained him, steady and still. It’s almost unsettling. The older of the two speaks up, this time with humour in his voice. 

“I’m always right,” he says, a smile evident in his voice despite the fact that Jason can’t see the lower portion of his face. The younger brother chuckles, the sound scratchy and harsh. 

“Now that’s bullshit.” 

The silence that follows is comfortable despite their surroundings. Jason closes his eyes, a faint smile on his face. He could fall asleep here and be perfectly content with it. A heaviness presses on his eyes as he begins to drift off.  

“Jason! Don’t close your eyes.” For the second time in the span of about five minutes, his eyes snap open in shock. They flutter for a moment, and he lets out a disgruntled groan. 

“I’m tired, Dick. I want to sleep.” 

“I know you want to, kiddo, but I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Bruce will never forgive himself if you end up dead.”  

Jason scoffs. “Fuck that. He’d get over it as soon as the funeral’s over.” 

“Yeah right,” Dick replies. “You didn’t see how he treated himself after the first time. He nearly destroyed himself.” 

“Let’s put the emphasis on nearly, hm?” he spits into the darkness. “If I was in his position, I would have torn the world apart if he had-” 

“Bruce isn’t you, Jason!” 

“What. And you are, Golden Boy?” 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” 

“What did you mean then?” 

An audible sigh is heard from the other side of the boulder but the older of the two brothers otherwise stays silent. Jason closes his eyes again, this time out of regret. 

“Shit. Look, Dick. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t waste oxygen arguing.” 

“You’re right. We shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” 

It’s at this point when an audible drip of something falls onto the rocks behind Jason’s head. His eyebrows knit into a frown at the sound. What was that? Is there water above them? If so, maybe they could use it to find which way is up so they can escape. 

Another drip, this time closer to his head. He can’t see the droplet of whatever it is falling from the ceiling of debris. Is it coming from the side? He turns his head away from Dick to look for the source. In the dim, he can make out a puddle of something next to his head. He squints his eyes, and he sees that it’s red. 

Oh.

Red. Crimson. It’s blood. 

His blood. 

He’s bleeding. 

The thing coating the side of his face isn’t sweat or tears. It’s his own blood. 

Oh God. 

Was the space he was trapped in always this claustrophobic? 

Was this smell of death always present? 

His chest is tight. His throat is closing. The pounding in his head heightens. 

A short way above him, he can hear his family. They’re shouting for him. They’re shifting rubble and debris. They’re trying to reach him. They’re shouting for Dick. Dick is shouting back. 

They can’t hear him. 

“Jason! Shout! Let them hear you!” 

He does so. He shouts. He screams. He yells. He yells for Bruce. He yells for Tim. He yells for Steph. He yells for anyone who might be there to save him. 

“Red Hood? Is that you?” He hears his father’s voice. 

“Bruce!” Jason replies. “It’s me! Help me!” 

“Keep shouting, Jaylad. We’ll find you!” 

He continues to yell for his father. His voice quickly growing hoarse from the dust that sticks to his windpipe. Beside him, Dick urges him to keep going. 

“Keep shouting, Jason! Keep it up! Don’t stop!” 

It’s only when light spears through the rubble and debris is pulled away that he stops. Tears stream down his face as the now unsettled dust falls on top of him all at once. He squints as his eyes try to adjust to the newfound light. The boulders pinning his broken arms are lifted and the slab of concrete is removed from his ribs. Strong arms lift him up and out of the pit he was in moments before. Bruce was always able to lift him as if he weighed nothing. Now is apparently no different. He’s picked up and cradled by his father like a child as he’s taken away from the hell that trapped him. He hunts for his family amongst the destroyed remains of the building that fell on top of them. He sees Tim. Damian. Steph. Duke. Cass. Carrie. Harper. Kate. Everyone. They’re all there. They’re all safe. 

But they’re missing someone. 

“Dick! You left Dick!” Jason’s voice cracks. Bruce gazes at Jason, the eyes behind the cowl seem sad. Defeated. It’s an unnatural look on the man. The Dark Knight shouldn’t look defeated. 

“I’m sorry Jason,” Bruce soothes. He sounds broken. Why does he sound broken? 

“What? No. Can you not find him? He’s there! He was right next to me!” he exclaims. Jason looks over Bruce’s shoulder to see his family gathered around the hole he was pulled out of. Steph is crying into Tim’s shoulder, his hand rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her. Damian is on one knee; the blade of his katana is stuck into the ground in front of him with his head lowered as if in prayer. Kate puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. What are they doing? Can they not find him? Jason feels like a child. Helpless and ignored. 

As he continues watching, he sees a flash of black and red fly into the pit. There’s silence for a moment before he sees Connor Kent bring the limp body of Dick Grayson out of the rubble. From where Jason is, he can see the teary eyes of the Kryptonian and his heart sinks to the ground.  

He doesn’t want to look down from Connor’s face. He doesn’t want to see the truth of it. He saw Dick in the rubble moments ago. He was alive! He was well! He only had a few scratches. He said it himself! He- 

“-was dead on impact.” 

His eyes are open, but the usual shine is gone. They’re glassy and dead. 

What? 

No. 

That- 

That doesn’t make sense. 

“But he was talking to me! I heard him speak!” Jason exclaims. Bruce shakes his head. 

“No, you didn’t,” he states, voice uncharacteristically quiet. 

“You’re gaslighting me? Really?” 

“He didn’t talk to you, Jason. I promise you that.” 

Jason looks down from his brother’s eyes, unbelieving. He knows what he heard. Dick was speaking to him as clearly as his father does now. He was speaking right into his ear, for heaven’s sake! He looks at Dick’s mouth as if to disprove his father’s words. 

Or rather, where Dick’s mouth should be. 

His jaw is gone. Probably smashed by a rock on impact. The hinge hangs uselessly on Connor’s arm. It’s grim and ugly. Jason can’t look away despite himself. 

“They say that,” Bruce begins, “sometimes, when someone is in a life-or-death scenario, their brain hallucinates a loved one as an act of self-preservation.” 

The puzzle pieces are locking into place. The fact that Dick’s voice is what woke him up in the first place is making sense now. The fact that Jason never saw the lower portion of his face is making sense now. The smell of death wasn't coming from him. The unblinking, still eyes wasn’t a knowing gaze, he was fucking dead and Jason didn’t realise. He was stuck in a hole with the corpse of his older brother, and he didn't fucking know. But Dick saved Bruce from having two dead sons that day. 

Even in death, Dick Grayson is always there to keep you safe. I suppose he is luckier in that respect.

--

Should I do a part 2 to this?

Reblogs appreciated!

Masterlist

[luaspersona]

All Night│knj (m)

pairing ↠ namjoon x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; brother’s best friend!au; strangers to lovers; smut; one-shot summary ↠ when your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company. rating ↠ +18 warnings ↠ alcohol consumption; flirting; sexual tension; the reader and Namjoon are shameless; explicit smut: consent king!Namjoon, a bit of thigh riding, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and brief m. receiving), spit kink, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, marking, light choking, begging, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cumshot, cum eating word count ↠ 12k (yeah, well. what can i say 💀) estimated reading time ↠ 30 minutes notes ↠ ok, so. i know i said i would upload this yesterday, but i got caught up with work and wasn't able to edit it one last time like i intended, and i hope it's ok that i'm dropping it now instead 🥺 note² ↠ also, this took so much longer than it should have, and it’s huge 😭 i’m so sorry y’all, but i swear it’s pure filth, the smut is just ridiculously long bc i don’t have any ounce of self control lmao 🫣 note³ ↠ ok, i'll let you get to it, now 🥰 crossposted ↠ read on ao3

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

As the good sister you are, you hate Jimin most of the time.

The sparse moments in which you feel love for your brother are the only downside of going long enough without seeing him, because you start to forget why Jimin studying on the other side of the country is actually crucial for your relationship. Recently, for example, you've been missing him, and that's not something you can just let happen.

So, when your boss sent you to Seoul to attend a handful of meetings during the week, you took the opportunity to meet up with your brother for the first time since he got into college and make new oh-so-sweet memories with Jimin so you can go on with not missing him for another semester or so.

The club he chose is far from the hotel your company paid for, but it's been a minute since you last toured Seoul's alluring night, so you decide to walk. You spot the large mono. neon sign Jimin described around thirty minutes later, and you quickly step out of the chilly night into the club's cozy interior.

You fish for your phone inside your purse, messaging a simple im here to your brother before finding your way to the bar. You hop onto one of the empty stools, smoothing the fabric of your pants and adjusting your cute top that is slightly hiked up from your walking.

You order a beer to start the night, and with its bitterness coating your tongue, you turn around to take in the environment. You have to admit Jimin was right about this place. Although really crowded, it feels comfortable; the dim lightning casting a cozy veil over the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the playlist good and loud enough to soothe any thoughts that might threaten a good night out.

[10:31] baby j 😗: on my way

Upon reading his response, you can't contain the large smile that betrays your anxiety. It finally hits you how long it has been since you last saw your brother. You don't even know what color his hair is now, how he's enjoying his first semester, if he found another apartment, if he got that job he told you about last month.

Aren't you supposed to know these things? God, you're a terrible older sister.

“Hey! What's up, noona?” A deep voice calls beside you, startling you a bit.

You turn, catching sight of a tall man greeting the bartender before he slides onto the stool next to yours.

After you take a quick look at him, you find yourself blinking back a couple times, simply unable to divert your attention: you've never seen such a fine man in your life.

As he leans over the counter, his broad torso is evident even through his shirt, large shoulders making him seem way too big for that stool. And his thighs?! Those thick — thick — thighs. You could die a happy woman between them, almost drooling when he spreads his legs to make himself comfortable.

“I'll just have the usual!” He orders, prompting a nod in response.

You know you're ogling, but fuck if this man isn't just perfect.

He pushes his hair back, long fingers tangling in his black locks in an failed attempt to clear the strands off his eyes, but in a successful endeavor to make you suck in a breath. Your attention falls to his lips — plump rosy lips that shine once he wets them with the tip of his tongue.

You tilt up, finding his dark almond-shaped eyes — piercing back directly at you.

You tense a little under his scrutiny, but you don't turn away, holding his gaze as you sip your beer.

“You know it's rude to stare, right?” He teases, making you smile immediately. 

Thing is: you are a Park, so flirting was like second nature to you. There's no scenario in which you dismiss this perfect lead he just gave you.

Besides, Jimin tends to be late, right? Yeah, he said he was on his way, sure, but who knows if he won't go to his place to freshen up before coming to meet you or something — what could be so bad about entertaining this beautiful man by your side?

“Oh, I'm sorry. You’re gorgeous, so it’s easy to get distracted.” He snickers, not expecting your response but definitely enjoying it. “But it's ok, I’ll let you stare back so we're even. Here, let me make it easier for you.”

You wiggle your body so you're facing him, closing your eyes playfully.

But he keeps his eyes locked in your face, as he's already regarded you before making his way to the bar. He noticed you when you approached the stool. He noticed the way your pants hug your legs just well enough for him to be able to delineate your figure. He noticed how really fucking cute your top is, loving how it bares the skin of your neck for him to picture how nice it would be to taint the soft flesh. 

You are hot, and Namjoon is a practical man, so he was already trying to read you, maybe wait a bit to see if you came with someone, if your body language was inviting or reclusive.

What eventually pushed him to come over was the way your face lit up when you smiled at your phone and he found himself grinning in response.

So now, even with your eyes shut, and your body closer for him to shamelessly gawk at, it's your smile that he's focused on.

“So?” You open your eyes again.

He cocks his head, regarding you.

“I like your earrings.” He taunts, and you scoff in feigned offense.

“That's your review?”

The bartender shows up again, placing a bottle of soju and a single glass in front of the man, who pours a dose for himself before drinking it.

He looks at you, all pretty and pouty, and grins before he's leaning in.

“I think I’d like to paint you, princess.” When did his voice become so husky? “Is that something you'd be interested in?”

This close, he catches the goosebumps that crawl up your arms, but your reply is unaffected.

“Well, how good of a painter are you, baby?” 

You can feel his hot breath fanning your jaw.

“I'd say I'm really good, but it really depends on you.”

“What about me.”

He shifts back to his prior position, a smirk on his face.

“If you behave.”

“And if I don't?” He drags his tongue over his lip.

“Then that’s even better.”

“Then I'm definitely interested, baby.”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin. God, are those fucking dimples?

“Well, what is your review?”

“Uhm, I like your lips. Almost want to know what they taste like.”

“Almost?”

“Of course! Need to know if you're a good boy first.” You say, matter-of-factly, tilting your head to finish your beer.

His eyes follow your body when you reach for another glass over the counter. “I also think a bottle of soju seems like a lot for one person.”

Damn, you are hot.

“Well, I'm a big guy.” He says, but pours it in your cup nonetheless.

“I can surely see that.” You huff, making him laugh.

“I'm Namjoon, by the way.”

You introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends to you.

The feeling of his large palm enveloping yours take your mind to other places. Places where that same hand is running up your legs, reaching for your zipper and slipping inside your—

“You're here alone?”

Before you can respond, your phone vibrates over at the counter, and you reach for it, checking a new message in your brother's chat.

“Gimme a sec.”

[10:47] baby j 😗: im rly rly sorry, sth came up, wont be able to make it tn

[10:47] you: You alright?

[10:48] baby j 😗: yeah

[10:48] you: Then why cant you come?

[10:49] baby j 😗: …

[10:49] baby j 😗: i met up w this really cute guy from my class and i wanna fuck him

[10:50] you: You bailing on me to fuck???

[10:51] baby j 😗: im so so sorry 🥺

[10:51] you: No you aint 😡

[10:52] baby j 😗: my bad lol

[10:53] baby j 😗: gtg tho, see u tmrw

“You ok?” Namjoon asks, as soon as you finish your glass of soju after sending Jimin a bunch of angry face emojis.

You realize you're frowning, and immediately ease the scowl on your face.

“Yeah. My brother just stood me up.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.”

Namjoon is quiet for a second.

“So you're leaving?”

You honestly thought Jimin would take longer to piss you off this time, but when you meet Namjoon's uncertain eyes, you can't really feel too bad about yourself right now. You smile mischievously. 

“Giving up already? Oh baby, I thought you could hold up.” You pout.

“I would never even think of leaving you unsatisfied.” The grin returns to his face, where it belongs. “Besides, who would I share my soju with?”

You pretend to search around the club.

“There are plenty of people here.”

“I'm sure of it, but there’s this beautiful girl who’s talking big to me and looks awfully uncomfortable in her clothes and I happen to be a very good boy who just wants to help her out of them.”

“Didn’t think of you as the romantic type.”

“What can I say, I’m as sweet as they come.”

“Then what do you say I help you finish this bottle before you give me a hand, sweet boy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.” He turns to you, attentive. “Sweet isn’t really my thing. I like it rough.” You wink.

“Damn, princess.” He chuckles. “I like you.”

Namjoon prided himself on being a good flirt. He liked to take his sweet time with his partners, teasing and instigating in such a way that any fleeting touch would ignite the skin.

But you? You were humbling him.

Barely two cups into the bottle, he decided to take you to dance. He assumed that having his hands on your thighs, gripping your hips, and his lips brushing gently over your neck would help to shut that witty mouth of yours, but as you keep grinding your ass on his cock he finds himself guiding you closer, spellbound by the way your body frames his.

Namjoon's thoughts are clouded by your hips, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips turning him the fuck on, making him feel like a horny teenager.

A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, the loud music a mere excuse for you two to keep pressing into each other.

Namjoon can hear your shaky breaths as you turn a bit on his hold, lips nearing his ear as you nib lightly at the flesh — which, paired with the way your fingers grab his hair, is enough to prompt a quiet moan out of his plumpy lips, one that you wouldn’t have listen weren’t you so close to him.

He should be ashamed of how fast he’s giving in, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants more. So he lets you do as you please — even if just for now.

Namjoon leisurely rolls his pelvis on your ass, large palms coming up to circle your waist and it’s his turn to listen to the pretty whine you give him. Namjoon closes his eyes, trying to focus.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, babe. Can I kiss you?”

You nod immediately and Namjoon wastes no time in grabbing your hand in his and quickly guiding you out of the dance floor, cutting through the sea of bodies with clear purpose.

You two make your way to a hall near what you assume is the backdoor of the club, poorly illuminated but also a bit more quiet.

Namjoon gently pushes you towards the wall, your back meeting its cold surface. The way he stares at you resembles nothing the sweet eyes you met at the bar — now dark with lust, nothing short of intimidating.

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t spur a heat below your belly.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” A coy smile crosses Namjoon’s face.

“That’s what you're thinking right now?”

“What should I be thinking, sweet boy?”

A huffed laugh passes his lips, and Namjoon steps closer. One of his arms comes to rest near your face.

“In a good ass excuse for the show you pulled back there.” His low register sends a shiver down your spine.

On second thought? Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much, but— ah, who are you kidding?

“Thing is, babe, I’m not sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a step closer.

With his body so near, you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. You close your eyes when his breathing ghosts over your skin, feeling goosebumps trail over your arms.

You wait for his next action. You wait for a touch or a reprimand, but it never comes.

Wait.

He didn’t… leave you, did he?

You’re mortified for a second, but as if sensing your distress Namjoon brings his fingertips to graze over your sides. The sudden touch startles you a bit.

When his hands reach your upper arm, you hear him let out a sharp, frustrated breath, prompting you to open your eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

You want to reciprocate his praise, but the words seem lost in your throat. This close you feel drunk on his beauty, dazed by his full, sinful lips and intoxicated by his heat as your bodies orbit each other.

Are you imagining him?

Namjoon’s hand continues to travel up your body, stopping at your jaw.

The pad of his thumb traces your chin, reaching your bottom lip and slowly pulling it off of your anxious bite, soothing the flesh in a tender movement.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, tone serious.

You smile.

“At this point, you better.”

And so he does, plumpy lips touching yours with surprising tenderness while his hands rest on your neck. You are taken aback by his softness, not reacting for a second before pulling him closer to bathe in his warmth.

The kiss unwinds all the tension off of you, replacing it with lust. The docility of his actions makes them hypnotic, your mind disoriented with his skin grazing yours — but you’ve never been a patient woman.

You slide your hands through his chest, trailing his defined torso before grabbing his shirt in your fists. You break the kiss and he lifts an eyebrow in question.

“Thought I told you sweet isn’t really my thing, big boy.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So impatient.”

This time Namjoon smashes your lips together, kissing you with hunger.

He presses you further against the wall and you stumble with his eagerness, a satisfied hum leaving your throat.

His hands explore your body, going through your neck, your shoulders, your hips and then your ass, grabbing a handful and giving it a hard squeeze.

He opens your mouth with his, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. His breath is ragged when he slips his tongue inside, and you two take barely a second to match each other's rhythm.

You suck the soju's sweetness off his tongue, and he drinks the bitter memory of your beer. Forget the alcohol — he's the one inebriating your thoughts.

You feel every inch of his body, pressed flush against his broad torso as his waist smoothly drags over yours, making it almost impossible for you to keep your whiny sounds down your throat.

You make no effort, on the other hand, to resist the urge to bite his pillowy flesh, nibbing with maybe more force than you should, but grinning in satisfaction when you earn a sweet groan in response.

You entangle your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer in a desperate attempt to get more of him, and he seems just as insatiable, slithering his arms behind your back to press your fronts.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, but he gives you no time to complain before you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking and biting between licks over the sweaty skin.

Your hands find purchase on his hair, grabbing his locks with force as arousal gushes out of you.

Namjoon's determined to mark all over your neck. After he sucks a hickey on the spot between your ear and your jaw, you just fucking know he's sporting the smuggest smile at the way his actions shove the prettiest of yelps out of you.

He levels his face with yours, but avoids your lips when you try to resume the kiss. 

“You’re awfully quiet, baby girl” he points out when you frown “have nothing smart to say?”

“How about fuck you?”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” A cocky grin takes his lips. “And although you look gorgeous trying to be in control, I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

He doesn’t really give you an option when he slots his leg between yours, large thigh pressing up your core and pushing an audible whimper out of you. The sound makes Namjoon grab a handful of your ass and use it to grind you along his thigh — his fucking thigh.

You grab the back of his head, pulling him to you as you smother his lips with yours, but this time Namjoon eats all your moans, feasting on the sounds you so obediently grant him.

You’re bathing in each other’s heat and with a particularly delicious roll of your hips, your core brushes on his growing bulge. You suck in a breath, parting with the kiss to learn how to breathe again.

“Look at you” his tone is laced with lust “riding my thigh like a good girl.”

Fuck, you're so damn horny, and you've barely done anything. The fuck is up with you? It scares you how you know you'd promptly fold if Namjoon asked you too, just to have that cock drilling inside you.

So you just hum weakly, apparently forgetting how to fucking speak.

“What was it again? That you called me before?” he asks, returning to slide your clothed core over his strong legs again, loving the way you look getting off on his thigh “Oh, right. What happened with all the filth you were saying before, sweet girl?”

You swallow. This man is fucking challenging you. You have to get your shit together.

“Namjoon—” you moan his name out “I’m… I’m so fucking wet right now.”

“Yeah?” His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, Namjoon, my panties are fucking soaked.”

“Shit. That’s it, wanna hear you losing it.”

Namjoon wants you so bad. He can feel the warmth of your core rubbing against him, and he can only imagine the growing stain in your panties, the desire of licking you clean the only thing in his mind. He wants to know how you look when you cum, and he just knows it'll be the prettiest fucking thing.

“I can feel how hard you are for me.” Your shaky voice makes him growl.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” That’s his new favorite pet name, the only thing he wants leaving his mouth.

You close your lips on his neck, moaning against his skin when you lick up his throat, a salty taste coating your tongue.

“I haven’t even—” you falter, intensifying your movements to touch his covered cock with each raise of your hips “I haven't even touched you yet, big boy. If I lose control, you sure you can keep it?”

You suck a purple stain on his pulse point, nibbing at it softly and rolling your eyes back over the grunts he pours on your ears.

Your hand slides between your bodies, fingers ghosting over his cock. Namjoon chuckles darkly.

“You're such a tease.”

“And what you gonna do about it, big boy?” You murmur on his skin.

Before Namjoon can answer, though, a high giggle echoes through the corridor.

You both turn, startled by the sound.

A couple stumble its way into the corner, in a messy make out session that delays their realization that they aren't alone. 

“Do you live close?” You ask Namjoon, breathe steadying when the two of you understand the couple doesn’t really mind the audience.

“Yeah.” He says, non-committal.

“Can we maybe go to your place?” You suggest, unsure if he's comfortable with it.

Namjoon turns his attention back to you, and his lips curve up into the most gentle smile you've ever seen.

“If you want to.”

You nod, mirroring his smile.

Namjoon adjusts himself in his pants, trying to be as comfortable as one can be with a painfully hard cock in tight fitting slacks.

You take the cue to soothe your own clothing and Namjoon can't help when his cute smile turns into a full on smirk upon seeing the evidence of his hands on your crumpled outfit.

He takes your hand in his when you both are relatively presentable, and once again leads you through the club, this time aiming for the exit.

Turns out, Namjoon isn't a good boy at all.

The whole ride to his apartment his hand was planted on your thigh, caressing softly without ever breaching your inner thigh or skirting higher — it was as innocent as it possibly could be.

Yet you were squirming and fidgeting the whole trip as his voice, enveloped in the most vulgar desire, whispered the most filthy promises on your ear, shooting arousal all the way down to your now sticking panties.

Promises of making you cum on his tongue, of fucking you senseless with your face on his mattress — of painting you with his cum tonight.

By the time the car finally stopped at his place, you felt your knuckles sore from clutching the fabric of your pants.

Not that he was unaffected. Namjoon could dirty talk you all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that you saw the way his cock twitched and how he was restlessly shifting in his seat whenever you played into his little scenarios.

Although, in hindsight, saying you wanted to be stuffed full of him wasn't the best idea, because the quiet groan he spilled in your ear did nothing to placate your own aching pussy.

The warmth of his palm is familiar at this point as he takes your hand to climb the flights of stairs to his place. Namjoon quietly fishes for his keys and, before opening the door, he looks at you, smiling softly and making you smile too.

When you both are inside his apartment, you wet your lips, anticipating his kiss. But Namjoon misses the action, too preoccupied with taking off his shoes and jacket and politely asking for you to do the same at the entrance.

His long legs stride towards the kitchen, and you almost assume he’s nervous when he fumbles with his cabinets, picking up two glasses.

You frown and, slowly following after him, you hop up on the stool by the counter, across from him. 

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah.” He fills the cups with water, placing them between you two and finally returning your gaze.

“Do you still wanna fuck?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I definitely still wanna fuck you.” His eyebrows knit together. “Why? Don’t you?”

“I do. But I kinda expected you to have, you know, thrown me against the wall or something by now.”

“I might still do that. Just wanna talk for a bit, make sure you’re sober and all.” He explains, reaching for his cup, and you mimic his motion, soothing the dryness of your throat. 

“Well” you ponder “I honestly feel a bit tipsy, but I’m conscious.”

“Do you want some time to be sure?”

“Nah, I’m sure.” He nods. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Namjoon presses his lips into a tight line, before saying: “I also wanna know your limits.”

“My limits?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you don’t like.”

“Oh” you huff out a laugh, dumbfounded “that’s nice. You seriously ask that to everyone you hook up with?”

“I like to.”

“Okay, uhm…” you sip your water. “I’m not really into degradation and, although I said I like it rough, I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit me or anything.” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I also don’t feel comfortable with ass stuff. Oh, and do you have condoms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that’s it. Maybe just don’t try anything freaky before telling me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“What about you?” He cocks his head to the side, considering you for a second.

“There isn't much I'm not willing to do, honestly, so really? Just don’t want you to lie or fake stuff. I want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I can do that.”

Namjoon rounds the counter, stopping in front of you before helping you stand.

“Up.” He commands, head tilting in the direction of the counter, and you jump to sit on it.

“There’s only one problem.” You say, guiding him between your legs.

“What?”

“I’m soaking wet right now.”

“That can’t be comfortable.” He traces soft circles on your thighs.

“It isn’t. And it’s your fault, big boy.” You pout.

Namjoon sucks his lower lip between his teeth, dark lust cloaking his eyes.

He gets closer, hands coming to your ass and squeezing it.

“But I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” You whine, seeking more contact.

“Are you normally that impatient, baby?”

“Do you normally take this damn long to fuck someone?”

He chuckles.

“You sure you can take it if I’m rough with you, princess?”

“You sure you can be rough with me, sweet boy? Cause you’ve been all talk and no—”

He smashes his mouth against yours before you could finish.

Namjoon’s lips seem like velvet on yours — despite the pressure, despite the thirst with which he drinks you up. He moves his lips in a way that almost feels like too much, like you won’t be able to take it, but the taste of lust coats your mouth so deeply that you’re intoxicated.

His hands memorize your body, grabbing your neck to tilt your head to the side before you open your mouth to meet his hot tongue, flicking it with yours.

You explore his mouth, happy to swallow all of his breathy groans as Namjoon tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you to drag on his bulge and grunting at the feeling, your body gasoline to his fire.

He can barely concentrate on the kiss, and you’re not much better, the initial eagerness developing into a sloppy make out session — fuck technic, how can one focus when Namjoon’s cock is so deliciously rubbing against you?

He starts to kiss down your jaw, wet lips tracing your sensitive flesh, taking your neck as his canvas.

You couldn't be more thankful for not having any more meetings to attend until being back to Busan, because you definitely don't own enough makeup to hide the purple marks he leaves behind. 

He cups your boob, squeezing it in a way that has you parting your lips in a whimper.

“Fuck princess, you’re so responsive.”

His palm slithers beneath your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach before he tugs your top off.

“Take this off for me, baby.” He commands, voice low in your ear as he brushes the thin lace of your bra.

And you obey, unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere near your top.

You're not ashamed or timid in the slightest when you lean back on the counter to let him take in as much as he wants from you, a tiny smirk crossing your lips. Your confidence makes Namjoon crazy, but you can't help it. You feel so hot under his gaze, you could let this man do anything to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Like, honestly, what the fuck.” You giggle.

“Come back here then, sweet boy.”

He kisses down your body, from your neck to your collarbone before he finally reaches your tits.

He closes his mouth around you, swirling his tongue around your nipple as his thumb finds your other breast, flicking over your hard nub and eliciting a loud cry out of your pretty lips. Namjoon seriously feels like he could drown in your sweet sounds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a handful and making him groan, vibration reverberating all through your chest.

A string of saliva attaches his lips to your tits as he peppers down kisses between the valley of your chest to regard your other boob, latching onto your nipple and taking his hand to smear the wetness he left behind.

The tip of his tongue licks your nipple, and you buck into his hips.

“Fuck, Namjoon, I… I love your mouth.” You pant.

“Love your tits.”

And he certainly makes you feel so.

Your head falls back when his hand cups your pussy over your pants. The elongated moan you grace him with makes him pull your waistband, quickly undoing your buttons.

You suck in a breath when his hand slips inside your panties, and the groan that leaves his throat is borderline painful as he finally feels you — his fingertips slightly spreading your folds as your slick coats him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re dripping.” He says, breaking the pattern of kisses on your tits to look at your face.

“I fucking told you.”

“Is all this for me?”

“Yeah, ba—” your words turn into a whine when his middle finger presses down your clit.

He chuckles, and you clench around nothing.

Namjoon feels like he's dreaming, seeing your head tilted back, your eyes closed shut as you squirm on his finger.

He pushes one digit inside your aching pussy, and you sob. Your wetness paired with the warmth of your walls pushes a moan out of his mouth, electricity going straight to his dick and coaxing him to push another finger inside — his mind spiraling as he imagines how your pussy will feel like around his cock.

“Good girl, soaking my fingers.”

Namjoon’s attention is locked on your face, gauging your reactions carefully.

“Shit, baby, that's it” you shudder when his fingertips find your g-spot, and he starts to hit it restlessly, your walls sucking him in.

You feel your breath scaping your lungs. Although Namjoon’s hand is somewhat restrained by your pants — which he didn’t mind taking off — the stretch of his fingers inside of you is maddening.

He's slowly working you up, heat coursing through your body and all the way to your scalp, the obscene sounds dripping from you only spurring you on.

You start to struggle to support yourself, feeling weaker by the minute, so you grab his upper arms, in an attempt to steady yourself. When you open your eyes, you’re met with deep, dark lust.

“I want to eat you out.” He says, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Fucking god.”

“Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, baby, fuck” you moan.

“Tell me you want it.”

Can't he tell by the way your chest is rising and falling at an almost concerning speed?

“I wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours in my pussy, Namjoon.”

He groans before his hand leaves your cunt and helps you down the counter.

You two stumble your way to his bedroom. Namjoon's arms hug you tightly against him as your hands pull his hair in a messy kiss, the only concern in your minds is to remain linked.

Namjoon tosses you carelessly over his mattress, drawing a gasp out of you.

The sight of you on his sheets, bare chest glistening with his saliva, pants poorly undone and shifting as you try to relive the emptiness he left behind makes Namjoon grope himself through his clothes, swallowing strained grunts.

You smirk at his distress, bringing your hands to your boobs and pushing them together to shove that grunt out of his throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, spread out for me.”

“I bet you’ll find me prettier with your cock inside of me.”

“You keep saying these things…” he closes his eyes, sighing heavily at the image you cast in his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners, dirty girl.”

“I’m counting you’ll at least try.” You smirk and Namjoon chuckles.

In a smooth motion, he takes his shirt off, exposing his broad, sculpted chest. Smug takes his face at the way you shamelessly gawk at him, and he kneels at the floor, hands harshly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your pants, before he finally slides them down your legs.

Namjoon straight out moans when he notices the large pool of arousal staining your panties.

“Damn, baby” his voice is barely audible and you squirm, shutting your legs to try and provide some friction. “You want to be fucked this bad?” His hands come up your thighs to part them, gaze transfixed in your core, layered by the thinnest lace of underwear.

“I want to be fucked this bad by— by you, shit.” You stutter as Namjoon lips meet your legs, biting and licking the soft flesh.

He trails kisses along your thighs, closing the distance to your cunt, but instead of touching you where you need him to, his lips simply hover over you. You let out a low curse when he continues his path to your other thigh, licking and sucking roughly.

“Namjoon, please.”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”

“I want your lips.“

“They’re right here.”

“I just told you.” You whine.

“Fucking tell me again if you really want it.”

“Please, eat me out, baby.” Your voice is pathetically high, but you couldn't care less.

“Since you asked so nicely” the look of his dimples between your thighs is the most beautiful obscene thing you've ever been graced with.

Namjoon shoves your panties to the side, and the way he curses your name out has you forgetting how to breathe.

“The prettiest fucking pussy, so fucking wet for me” he groans “I bet I could slip right in.” And you’re sure he’s right, feeling your lust dripping down your ass.

Namjoon seems to like the way you squirm under him, because instead of fulfilling his promises, he blows a cold puff of air over your folds and the way you shudder has his dick twitching. 

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles. “I'll fight you, I swear to god.”

He brings his finger to glide up your entrance, effectively shutting you up.

Namjoon teases you, pulling your folds apart before spreading your slick around them, leaving you all nice and sloppy for him. His eyes flick up to the way your chest rises and falls above him, then his gaze returns to your drenched cunt.

How are you supposed to survive the night if he keeps looking at you like that? Like you are sin incorporated? 

He finally brings his face to you, licking a long stripe along your pussy and collecting all your juices on his way up to your clit, where he swirls his tongue before sucking, hard.

You can’t help the loud cry that exits your throat, nor how it elongates when Namjoon hums in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good.”

One of your hands flies to his hair, twisting and pulling carelessly, while the other gathers his sheets in your fists.

You jolt your hips up to meet his face as he continues to lap at your cunt and when he drags the tip of his hot tongue to part your folds and pushes it inside your walls, Namjoon has to pin you down to prevent you from lifting off the bed.

“So fucking good, baby” you moan, fumbling with his hair.

“Yeah?” His deep voice against your heat makes your head fall back.

Namjoon feel his control dissolving pretty fucking fast as he takes in all that you can give him, arousal gushing out of you for him to feast.

His tongue explores your cunt and he softly takes your clit in between his teeth. You feel a sharp pressure growing in your stomach and you grind on his face seeking more of it.

“Shit! Do that again, please” you yelp, and he promptly nibbles down at your clit.

Namjoon starts to focus on your now swollen nub, while he slides his hand down, and before you can process his intentions, you feel the delicious push of two of his fingers inside of your cunt.

The sound you let out has Namjoon’s mind blanking. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as goosebumps crawl up your arms.

Namjoon lifts your legs to rest them on his shoulders, allowing himself to go deeper into you and he speeds up his movements, his fingers scissoring you open for him. Namjoon eats you up like his life depends on it, sucking the soul out of your body.

Sinful squelching and slurping noises fill his room, and he wants those sounds imprinted to his brain, your pussy loudly dripping for him.

In a sudden movement, he curves his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. Your breath tries to keep up with your racing heart while the knot in your belly threatens to snap.

You let go of his sheets, hand coming up your chest, cupping your boob just slightly before pinching your hard nipples, the sensitivity making you squirm, Namjoon's groan between your legs just spurring you on, the sight of you unraveling above him the most erotic thing he's ever seen — and to know he's the one making you shiver like that makes his cock painfully hard.

You rest your hand beside your head, trying to steady yourself somehow and failing miserably.

Your mind is empty, his tongue washing away any lingering thoughts or worries you’ve ever had, as if you know nothing but the feeling of his lips wrapping around your folds and the maddening drag of his fingers inside of you. 

When your legs start to shake and your walls clench around his digits, Namjoon slightly parts his lips from you, but without pausing his fingers — if anything, he starts to pump them faster.

"You gonna cum?"

You nod.

Your lower lip will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Words, baby girl."

"Yes! Yes, I’m close" you cry.

"Look at me." He demands, and you do as he says.

You support yourself on your elbows, meeting his firm gaze on you.

The sight of Namjoon between your thighs, chin glistening as your arousal drips from his mouth, and the fact that he still hasn’t stopped fingering you, make your whole body quiver, your stomach contracting hard, and you have to gather all your self control to not cum just from his looks.

Fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

"Want you to look at me when you come." You clench around his fingers. "Can you do that for me, princess?"

"Yeah" you are like… twenty percent sure you can.

Namjoon grins to himself in triumph. You’re already already this fucked out and he’s barely begun with you.

His mouth returns to your core. Honestly? Namjoon's knees are surely bruised from the hard floor, scraping whenever he moves further against you. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as his tongue worships you in earnest, your name falling from his lips like prayer while his fingers stretch you so fucking good, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Namjoon, that’s it" you feel silly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my face." He commands, register so low you barely hear him.

The feral look he directs you alongside his words make your orgasm hit you in a strong wave, your body lifting from the mattress and shaking vigorously. Namjoon’s hand spreads over your stomach to try and pin you down as he keeps his tongue lapping at you, drinking up all your essence and helping you ride out your high.

He groans at the way your browns shoot up your forehead, mouth silently parting as your head falls back.

You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.

You push his head away from you when your legs start to tremble from oversensitivity, searching for air.

Namjoon puts your panties back in place, the soaked clothing sticking to your eaten out pussy and making him hum, satisfied.

"That’s it, baby, you did so well for me."

"Fuck" you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. The shockwaves of your orgasm are still making you shiver when you pant, "what the fuck was that?"

Namjoon chuckles, slowly lifting himself from his bruised knees.

His stare on you falters when he darts his tongue out to collect your cum from around his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

He climbs up the bed, careful not to crush you as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he swallows the quiet whine you make before pulling away.

Namjoon takes his wet fingers and wraps around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with his eyes closed.

When he looks at you again, something unreadable crosses his gaze before he gulps. "Can I spit in your mouth, pretty girl?"

Your reaction betrays your answer, thighs immediately pressing together as a new wave of arousal shoots through you at his request.

But Namjoon still waits until you say: "Fuck yeah, you can."

His smile is ridiculously innocent for the matter at hand.

"Then open up for me, princess."

And you do, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as he grabs your jaw, hovering above you.

You close your eyes as a small globe of spit hits your tongue, and you swallow proudly, a content hum ripping from your throat. 

"Good girl, shit, that’s so hot."

He leans in to resume the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs. His clothed cock drags against your inner thigh.

Why is he still wearing pants?

"Namjoon" you call, between kisses.

"Uhm."

You take your hands to his torso, tracing freely and loving the way his skin shivers under your fingertips. From his broad shoulders to his firm abdomen, you explore his golden, sweaty skin above you, until you slide one of your hands down. Your palm touches his member, stroking it just slightly as you bathe in the broken moan he graces you with.

"Let me suck you off." You offer, feeling how hard — and thick, mind you — he is under your hand.

"Can you handle more?" His tone is teasing, but his look is genuine. 

You’re silent for a moment. What does he mean by that? Would he just… stop if you said no?

God, why is that so hot?

"Yeah, sweet boy. Wanna take care of you too."

The problem is that there’s no way Namjoon’s gonna last if you suck him off. He can barely control himself now, after tasting you and drawing all those sweet sounds out of you. His dick is already twitching under your half assed strokes, the slight discomfort from his pre cum staining his clothes a clear sign he needs to be inside you. He wants to make you cum again, but around his cock this time.

So he chuckles.

"Can you take it if I fuck you now?" You bite your lip, nodding. "Yeah? Tell me you want my cock, baby girl."

"I want you cock, Joonie." You spill, lips nearing his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow."

Maybe not your brightest idea, but at this point you don't give a shit. Namjoon is the only thought on your mind and if you came that hard just from his fingers, you can’t wait to see what his dick will feel like.

"Fuck, I love your filthy mouth." He groans. "Sure you don’t need some time?"

"Nah… maybe leave the riding for later, though?" A coy smile crosses your face.

"Sure" he smiles back.

Namjoon kneels back on the bed, wincing a bit when his sore knee touches the crumpled sheets. Ignoring it, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, taking a foil packet out of it.

He stands up, tossing the wallet aside before reaching for his belt.

"Let me" you ask, lifting yourself and sitting on your heels.

You take your hands to his thigh, caressing it before going to his belt, which you undo, eyes not daring to look away from his.

You bite your lip when your hands open his zipper, and you reach around him to grasp his pants, pulling them down slowly as he looks at you with nothing but lust, eyes tilting down to your bare chest.

"You honestly have the most amazing thighs."

He frowns in amusement. "Thanks?"

Usually you’re a big fan of reciprocity, and you might have considered taking your sweet fucking time with him, just like he did with you, if Namjoon hadn’t just give you one of the best orgasms of your life and if you didn’t feel arousal pooling again on your already soaked panties. So, instead, you just pull down his pants along with his briefs, his cock springing free.

Namjoon hisses at the feeling of the fabric dragging against his shaft, and you have to suck in a breath when you look at his thick member. It must be painful how hard he is at this point, dick angry and throbbing.

"Big boy indeed." You blurt out, making Namjoon laugh as he kicks his pants down his legs.

"Losing your confidence, princess?" Honestly? Namjoon has no business having such a pretty cock and being this hot. You feel like he should be illegal.

You curl your palm around his dick and give it a tentative pump. A long moan falls from his lips from finally receiving some attention.

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I at least taste you?" Are you fucking pleading?

He gulps.

"Please?" You pout.

He bites his lip — how could he ever say no to you looking up at him like that, the cutest pout on your lips, while you beg him to let you give him head? He'd give you anything.

"Shit, yes, you can."

You smile.

That's it. Namjoon's sure he's imagining you. Is he dreaming?

You inch closer, giving his tip an experimental lick and tasting his salty pre cum, riveting at the sweet sounds he lays out for you.

You spit on his shaft before you lick your way down him, smearing your spit all over his length, before giving his crown a light suck, prompting Namjoon to buck his hips into your mouth, and you welcome him.

You moan, feeling his weight on your tongue. He twitches between your lips when you hollow your cheeks.

You start to take him further, his tip grazing the back of your mouth while you pump what you can’t fit inside.

"Fuck, princess, you look so pretty sucking my cock." He groans, head tilting back for a second and squeezing his eyes shut.

When you start to bob your head faster, though, Namjoon gathers all his self control and pushes you away, and you release him with a small pop.

You pout, and his jaw tenses "why would you stop me then?"

"I wanna fuck you." He pumps his dick a few times, hand slipping easier with your saliva now coating him. "All I’ve been thinking about."

Namjoon rips the foil packet open with his teeth, securing the condom around himself.

You make a move to lay back on his mattress, but Namjoon shakes his head.

"Nah, baby, that’s not how I want you."

He slithers his arm around your torso, harshly turning you over. He yanks you by your waist, pulling your ass up to him. His hand runs down your spine, pressing your face on his sheets.

Namjoon positions himself behind you. His palm comes up to caress your ass before giving it a hard squeeze.

Namjoon parts your cheeks, and he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart to stare at your pussy. He grunts upon noticing your cunt is already a mess for him again even if he’s just licked you clean.

"You got wet again from sucking my dick, princess?"

"You felt so good in my mouth."

Your words fuel him, and Namjoon doesn’t think twice before he inches closer and licks your folds, the tip of his tongue collecting your licking lust as he hums in pleasure.

"Sweetest fucking pussy" your eyes roll back.

Namjoon pulls away to admire the view. There are you, all pliant, waiting for his next action with your face pressed down his bed, your ass on display, pussy dripping in anticipation.

He never felt this fucking hard.

"God, you’re gorgeous. So beautiful for me like this."

He grips his cock, aligning himself with your entrance, but instead of just sinking it inside you, Namjoon drags his crown up and down your folds like he has all the fucking time in the world. Your spit mixing with your gushing arousal.

You groan — you wanna fight him.

"Namjoon" his name drips like sin from your lips.

"Uhm." He hums, distracted.

"Just fuck me already."

He smirks. 

"Now that’s no way of asking something, is it?" You groan. "Don't you wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Baby, please, can you fuck me? My pussy is so fucking wet right now." You whine, wiggling your ass, creating some, but not nearly enough, friction. "Please..."

Namjoon fucking loves your dirty mouth. "Good girl."

He slowly presses himself between your folds, shoving a loud moan from your throat.

You shudder from the intrusion, his tip deliciously splitting you up as it slides in your cunt.

"Shit, baby, you’re way too tight." He grunts. "Relax for me, princess."

Namjoon leans over you, his torso framing your back. He lays sweet kisses on your shoulders, and his hand on your hips starts to softly trace your skin, raising until he’s grabbing one of your boobs. He squeezes it, pitching your hard nipples.

His gentle touches make you melt, allowing for Namjoon to drag his cock further inside of you, finding little resistance as his thick cock stretches you up.

Your cunt engulf him so tightly that Namjoon feels his mind spiraling, and when his hips meet your ass, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, I feel so fucking full."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah, fuck. Gimme a sec."

You roll your hips slightly to try and get used to his size, but he’s filling you up so good that the tiniest of movements makes his shaft drag against your walls, a quiet yelp falling from your lips.

"Ok." You gulp. "You can move."

Namjoon licks his lips and smirks, hands tightening on your hips.

"Hold tight, baby."

He slowly pushes himself out of you, but doesn’t give you time to feel empty as he immediately comes slamming back inside. You gasp, body jerking forward.

Your pussy welcomes him with each thrust, swallowing him with the most wet sounds you’ve ever heard, and you start to push your ass back to try and take him further between your tight walls.

His cock moves in a merciless pace, and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

How the fuck does he know how to move his hips like that?

You’re exhilarated, mouth open but not a single sound coming out. Overwhelmed by his soft moans above you, by the way he stuffs your pussy full of him, by the way you can feel your legs wet with your arousal gushing from your core.

You try to get your shit together, prompting your ass back to meet his thrusts, and when you finally find his rhythm — but not without the help of his firm hands dragging you against him — the slapping sounds become so vulgar that you sob.

"That’s it, baby, that’s what you wanted, right?" He mumbles, voice barely coherent as his throbbing cock relentlessly drills your pussy. "To be fucked so hard, to be so stuffed you aren’t able to speak, hum?"

You hum, feeling like you’ll scream if you open your mouth.

Namjoon doesn’t like it, though. He hates the way you’re suppressing your pleasing from him.

"I thought I told you I wanna hear you losing it, baby. Where’s your filthy mouth?"

"So… you… so good, Namjoon… fuck" you stutter.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, shit, go harder."

His eyes flutter shut for a second.

"Anything you want, princess."

Namjoon shifts his legs, trying different angles to make you unable to hold your pretty sounds in. He attempts a couple of ways before he sets his left foot on the mattress, and when he resumes his thrusting a loud scream rips from your throat.

"That’s it, Namjoon, god, there. Please, do it again." You plea, voice pathetically high as you clench around him.

Your moaning is fuel to him, and he starts to fuck you as hard as he can, loving how you’re spiraling under him, tortured sounds finally reaching his ears.

"You feel so good, baby." You say and Namjoon growls.

Just as blissful as the sensation of his cock deep inside of your tight walls, is knowing that he’s making you feel on the fucking moon too. So, he seeks the same spot over and over again, his purpose clear.

You roll your hips, grinding on his cock.

God, it's such a shame you're not into degradation. All Namjoon wants it's to call you his slut.

"Shit, princess, you’re so greedy, fucking yourself with my cock."

You push your ass back again, but this time you feel his balls slapping against your clit and you both falter as lightning courses through your bodies, making you constrict your pussy around him.

"Do that again, baby girl." He commands, and you fucking obey.

You clench around his cock again, and Namjoon goes feral.

His strokes are hard, but so fucking precise that the way he’s railing your pussy makes you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality. 

Shit, this is too fucking good, and Namjoon feels dizzy. If he wasn’t drunk before he certainly feels like it now, thoroughly enjoying the way you’re completely unraveling under him.

"You’re squeezing me so good, so fucking tight for me." He groans out.

His fingers dig into your flesh in a way that you’re sure it’ll definitely bruise — but you want it too. You want him to mark you all over with the evidence of how good he’s fucking you, of how good he’s making you feel.

Your mind is clouded. Your knuckles sore from how hard you’re clutching the sheets.

Namjoon’s so fucking satisfied, pride exuding from his body as he looks down at you on his bed, being fucked senseless as he drills his cock in and out of you, loud slapping and squelching sounds making it even more obscene.

"You take me so well, shit, such a good girl." Namjoon groans, hypnotized by the way your body rocks with the force of his thrust.

You could die a happy woman just from the way he praises you. His words making your stomach twists in what you’re sure will be another mesmerizing orgasm. 

"I could fuck you all night, baby, and I just know you’d take it."

"Yeah, Namjoon— I, I would." You yelp. "I will."

He has the audacity to chuckle. 

"I’ll hold you up on that offer later."

You’re already so close again. God, you don’t wanna come like this, you don’t wanna come so soon.

"Namjoon?" You call and he hums in response. "I wanna ride you."

Did he win the lottery or something? He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. God, he missed like, three essay deadlines this semester, he definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

"Fuck, yeah, baby, you can ride me."

He slips out of you, and wastes no time crawling to sit at the headboard.

Namjoon reaches out to hold you, helping you straddle him with your wobbly legs. He laughs when you take a deep breath, goosebumps all over your skin.

"You sure you can ride me, though?"

"Shut up" you hiss, trying to concentrate before you wrap your hand around his length and lift over him to align him with your entrance.

A shaky cry falls from your lips as you gradually sink in his dick. The stretch is completely different and his fat cock splits you open so deliciously that you somehow feel even fullen than before.

"Fuck, I love this position." He reads your thoughts.

You just nod, unable to think as you find purchase on his shoulders. When you’re finally fully seated, you feel like Namjoon's cock is touching your soul.

"Fuck, Namjoon, you’re huge."

His face is all scrunched up, brows knit together in pleasure, and you’re almost angry at how beautiful this man is. The nerve.

"God, this pussy so fucking tight."

You take a deep breath, and swiftly roll your hips over him. Namjoon’s head thumb back and you feel so fucking powerful when his hands grab your ass, trying to guide you over him to reproduce the feeling. So you grind on him again, making his cock reach spots you didn’t even know you had.

After rolling a bit more on his lap, you muster all the strength you can and lean back, planting your palms on his thighs — have you mentioned how fucking beautiful his thighs is? — before slowly raising yourself.

The second time you drag your pussy down his length is even more delicious, and it makes you feel so good that you feel like this is wrong in some way.

Ok, who are you kidding?

You’re both pure sin at this point. There’s no turning back from the obscenities you two said tonight.

So yeah, fuck it.

You try to focus as you slowly start to move your hips up and down, regretting all the times your friends tried to convince you to exercise and you didn’t, because you can’t seem to find a pace.

But Namjoon, so very attentive to your needs, grabs your hips, helping you establish a sluggish pace — but a pace nonetheless.

You gradually start to feel more comfortable, more capable, and Namjoon’s grip on your waist is now more for his own sake than yours when your movements speed up.

Soon enough, you’re riding him in earnest, in a hard rhythm that makes you meet his pelvis each time, his thighs quiver under your weight in the most gorgeous way as you send Namjoon to the places he not long ago made you visit. 

A proud grin settles on your face, watching him grunt with each stroke. 

"You're so good for me, baby, letting me fuck you like a good boy" you echo his words, almost teasing, but your shaky tone betrays you.

"You fuck me so good, princess."

Shit, you feel lightheaded.

Namjoon bites his lip, eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. He takes your boobs in his palms, caressing and grasping them softly, your sounds music to his ears.

Your gaze falls to his neck, not nearly enough marked by you, so you dive to his throat, tongue licking up to his ear before you start to kiss and suck harshly at his pulse points, making him moan loudly into your ear.

"You’re so sweet and big for me" you say, clenching around him and you feel his dick twitching inside.

"Shit, baby, do it again." He asks, and you promptly close your walls around him again.

Namjoon’s not sure how long he’ll last with you on top of him like this, riding the soul out of his body while your lips worship his neck. But he needs you to come first — or rather, again, but this time around his throbbing cock.

Thankfully you’re not far. Your lower belly is contracting, nearing your high, and you’re so gone that you could tell Namjoon you love him at this point, you don’t even care — and you don’t think he does either.

"You’re so good for me, my pretty girl."

His? Shit, can you have that on paper?

"All yours, baby."

You yelp when Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing you. The pad of his fingers spreads your wetness over your bundle of nerves, your heart ramming against your ribcage.

"Baby, I’m… I’m close." You're fucking panting, that's what you are.

"Thank god." He breaths. "Can I take over, princess?"

You nod, and Namjoon circles his strong arm around your waist, turning you without slipping his dick off of you.

When he suits himself above you, you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, and Namjoon starts to fuck you like he’s made for it. Fuck, why does he feel like he is, though?

His thrusts are relentless, but he uses his last working braincell to aim his cock against the spots he’s learned that make you cry louder — which you do.

Your hands grip at his hair, tugging hard as your head falls back.

You have to gather all the focus you possibly can to open your mouth, your voice barely a whisper.

"Choke me, baby."

Namjoon gulps.

"What."

"Please, choke me."

"Shit, princess." Is this what dying feels like?

Namjoon closes his hand around your neck, fingers pressing down your pulse points as he feels your erratic heartbeat slightly soothing under his fingertips. Why is this so hot?

Your every sensation is heightened. His cock heavenly railing you, his hot breath fanning against your sweaty skin, the loud sounds that fall both from where your bodies meet and from his mouth.

It takes barely a minute before white spots blur your vision. The tight not in your stomach snaps so fucking hard a scream leaves your parted lips.

Namjoon wants to know how to immortalize the way your face scrunches up when you come — would you let him do it again just so he can take a picture?

The force of your orgasm makes your pussy clench hard around his cock, and you milk him and your body quivers violently. When your back arches from the bed, his bed, he swears you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

His thrusts become shallow, and you’re still rocking with the afterwaves of your orgasm, fighting through the overstimulation when Namjoon feels his own high approaching, so he quickly pulls himself out of your cunt.

He rips the condom off of his cock, tossing it wherever for him to mind later, and starts to pump himself above you. And what a fucking sight to behold.

"Come for me, baby, you’ve been so good, I want you to come all over me."

And like the good boy he is, Namjoon immediately does.

His hot white cum paints your belly just like he promised, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he empties himself over your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent.

You look down, wetting your lips before you bring your finger to your belly. You collect his cum with a flicker of your finger, and take your hands to wrap your mouth around, tasting his salty orgasm with a satiated hum.

Namjoon shudders. In that second, he wants nothing more than to come again just to see you eat his cum out of yourself once more.

"You’re a fucking menace, you know that?"

You smile innocently, and he falls beside you on his sheets.

Namjoon’s breath is uneven, and he brings his hands to push his hair out of his face.

You turn to him, a large grin on your lips. Namjoon’s eyes find yours.

"What?" His lips curve upwards.

"Fuck, sweet boy, I think I’m in love."

You two start giggling, you shake your shoulders in pure mirth while his laugh reverberates all through his body — you both find those sounds just as attractive as the obscenes ones you were eliciting just now.

It takes some time before your shared amusement softly becomes small snickers. 

"Still with the sweet thing?"

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby, you’re definitely my sweet boy." He takes his lips in his teeth, shaking his head. 

"I’m the best, huh?"

"Hell, yeah, I’m fucking giggling, Namjoon. Really, what the fuck."

"You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had. I honestly couldn’t be happier your brother bailed on you."

"Shut up." You playfully shove his shoulder, chuckling.

"Seriously, though, introduce me to him, I need to thank him."

"Don't ruin it." You joke.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, collecting your breaths.

"Wait, be right back."

Namjoon lazily gets on his feet, grabbing the used condom from the floor and heading to his bathroom, closing the door.

He returns a couple minutes after, a towel in his hand as he crawls back to bed and starts to gently clean your stomach, reaching your pussy and easing the mess he’s made of you.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it." You try to get out of bed, but your shaky legs make you stumble as you get up.

Namjoon quickly helps you steady yourself, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Uhm… also, do you mind if I stay the night?" You ask, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting it’s way past one in the morning.

"Princess, I expect you too." Namjoon smirks. "We’re not nearly done."

Namjoon somehow can look even better in the morning.

You wake up feeling his serene heartbeat beneath your ear, his arms enveloping you and your legs entangled.

You’ve been just peacefully staring at him for around ten minutes now.

At first it was because you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, sore to the bones. But then, it was because he’s just so damn beautiful you couldn’t help it.

He takes a deep breath, stretching his limbs as he wakes up, yawning loudly. You inch closer and give him a quick peck on his cheek, before resting your chin on his chest.

"Good morning, pretty girl" he smiles, opening his eyes and tugging you closer.

"Morning, sweet boy."

"How long you’ve been awake?"

"Not sure. Ten minutes?"

"Wow, and you’ve just been staring at me? That's so creepy." You roll your eyes, and he chuckles.

Neither of you speaks for another couple of minutes, bathing in the calmness of the morning.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah. Really sore, though."

"Well, you asked for it."

"I did, didn’t I?" You grin. "And you gave it to me like the good boy you are." You tease, kissing his lips.

He reciprocates the touch, but neither of you takes it further.

So. Fucking. Tired.

"I see I wasn’t able to teach you how to behave."

"I’m a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort." He huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes.

"What time is it?"

You turn on his hold to face his clock. "Almost ten."

"Hum."

Namjoon doesn’t make any move to get up, and you start to look over his room. For some reason, you didn’t pay it the slightest attention the night before.

"You in college?" You ask, when you notice tons of books piled on the floor near his dresser.

"Yeah, in my last year."

"Uhm, so pretty boy is also intelligent." He snickers.

"My good looks can be deceiving."

"I was deceived indeed. You have such a dirty mouth, I was baffled." He shoves you away from his grip, groaning.

"You're one to say, the filthiest girl I’ve ever met."

"The filthiest? You flatter me." You laugh, as he playfully pushes you to the other side of the bed. "Oh c’mon, you liked it."

He smiles. "Yeah, I did."

He’s so tender you almost feel shy.

"What do you study?"

"Literature."

"It suits you." You say, scanning his face.

"Thanks, I really like it. But what about you? Aren’t you in college?"

"I graduated last year."

"What you do?"

"Architecture."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah. I’m on a work trip, actually."

"You’re not from here?"

"No, I live in Busan."

"Oh. My roommate is from Busan."

"You have a roommate?" You ask, mortified, but Namjoon chuckles.

"Don’t worry, he was out. He didn’t hear the way you were screaming last night." You shake your head, a smile on your face. Namjoon breathes deeply before lifting to a sitting position on the bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just use the bathroom real quick."

"Ok. Do you like toast? That’s basically the only thing I can make."

"Finally!"

"What?" He frowns.

"Finally you have a flaw, oh my god, I was losing hope" you say dramatically, raising your arms.

"Can't have you falling in love now, can I?" He jokes and you laugh.

Namjoon gets out of bed and you follow, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

He makes his way to his kitchen, finding his roommate already there, eating his breakfast.

"Morning." He announces himself, and Jimin turns to him.

"Hey, man" he smiles mischievously, cocking his head in the direction of your clothes lying on the floor "how was the party last night?"

Namjoon's brief concern for forgetting to gather the clothes you took off in the kitchen quickly dissolves into a smirk.

"The party? Oh, I kept it in my room."

"All night?"

"All fucking night." They both chuckle. "She’s in the bathroom, so please be civil when she comes here."

Namjoon goes to his cabinets, grabbing some bread to prepare you something to eat.

"Sure, man."

"What about you? You arriving now?"

"I came home around six, I think, so I just crashed. Woke up half an hour ago."

"And how was it with that guy?"

"It was mid. But hey, it was worth the shot. Even if he has no fucking game he's still hot as fuck."

"Sorry to hear that." Jimin shrugs. 

"And what about this girl, huh?"

"Man, this girl…" Namjoon trails off, shaking his head "so fucking hot, I felt like I was dreaming."

"Really? You seeing her again then?"

"Don’t think so, she’s not from here."

"That’s too bad."

"Yeah, it’s whatever. By the way, do you wanna hang out later? There’s this music festival going on and I have no one to go with."

"Don't know, I’m probably going out with my sister today, she flew from Busan to see me."

"Oh nice. Maybe you could introduce us."

"Yeah, if she’s down maybe we can all go together to this festival." Namjoon nods.

He leans on the counter, facing Jimin, and smiles once he sees you coming from the hall.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Jimin turns back when Namjoon acknowledges you.

"Oh, hey sis!" Jimin greets automatically — before freezing completely.

Both yours and Namjoon’s eyes widen in terror.

"Chim?!"

"Wait— she’s your sister!?"

"Jimin’s your roommate from Busan?"

You stand still in the hallway, watching mortified as your brother's face contorts in a grimace, realization hitting him before he shoots his friend a deadly glare.

"God, Namjoon, you fucked my sister?!"

"I didn’t know it was your sister!"

"Man, you’re fucking gross!"

"The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!" You ask, indignant.

"My sister’s not hot!"

"Jimin?!"

"Can’t agree with you on that one, man, sorry." Namjoon argues.

"Those are my sister’s clothes, man?" He continues, ignoring what his friend said for his mental health’s sake, before he turns to you. "And you’re wearing his clothes? What the fuck?!"

"Jimin, stop being a child."

"You came to Seoul to fuck my roommate?!"

"You’re the one who stood me up last night. To fuck, may I remind you."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Namjoon interjects, winking at you, and a small smile crosses your lips before Jimin groans, exasperated.

"Seriously, man?! And what the hell happened to your neck, did he fucking punch you?"

"God, no! I just cho—"

"Shut up! God, I can’t fucking look at your two right now, unbelievable." He says, getting up in a hussle before striding to his room, cursing under his breath.

You and Namjoon are left alone in the kitchen, silence filling the room.

You gauge his expressions, realizing he’s doing the same.

"Thank fuck he wasn’t here last night." Namjoon says after a while, and you can’t contain the laugh that escapes past your lips.

"You really had to thank him, though?" Namjoon bites his lips. 

"I'd feel bad if I didn't. Mom taught me to be grateful." He bites his lip. "Do you still want that toast?"

You smile. "Sure, sweet boy."

note ↠ sooooo, what do you think? i really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did! it took some time for me to finally be satisfied with it, and i have like, ten versions lost somewhere in my google docs lmao links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter XII

The Moan

“I want buns of steel. But also, buns of cinnamon,” Elain Archeron muttered, as she pulled out a pan of cinnamon buns from the oven. It was a strange choice, but this was Feyre’s favourite treat, and Elain felt that she owed it to her sister on her birthday.

Elain was running late. But there was a lot to do.

Feyre had changed her mind at the last minute, and they weren’t going to a Moroccan restaurant anymore. Instead, the restaurant was catering, the party was at Feyre’s loft, and Elain was tasked with making desserts. And there were thirty people invited, though with Feyre’s friends, it was quite possible that many more would drop by.

Now, Elain was running behind. She had to make a cake too, because Feyre requested her cake, and not one from a bakery. Elain was pretty proud of the cake, though she had no idea how she was going to transport it and carry it, but she wasn’t concerned about the logistics right now.

“Piglet, you are being very rude,” she told her pug. Predictably, she received no response.

As she mixed icing sugar, lemon juice and double cream for the icing, she continued, “That’s fine. It’s entirely up to you if you want to play introvert today. However, don’t expect treats then. You can’t be a glum introvert and still want treats.”

To that, Piglet expanded a mournful moan.

“No,” Elain said. “I don’t even know if you’ll get your Advent Calendar treat today. Unless daddy wants to give it to you, don’t count on me.”

Piglet looked sadly at his calendar, sniffling and barking weakly.

In about ten minutes, he raised his head, but didn’t get up. But Elain knew why–because in the next moment, the doorbell rang. 

God she was running really, really late!

Wiping her hands with a towel, Elain fluffed up her hair–she wasn’t even sure why she was doing that–and went to the door.

When she opened it she was faced with not one, not two, but three men.

Three giant men. They looked wild, and dangerous, and beautiful. Not the men of this age or this time. They seemed ancient and powerful, like the warriors of old.

Not to say that they were dressed in armour or anything. 

In fact, all three were wearing identical black suits, which probably cost as much as a downpayment for a house, and white shirts, open to various lengths on their brown, muscular chests.

Elain whooshed out a breath.

Her lady parts did a funny squeezie-squeeze, especially at the sight of Azriel Night, whose dark golden skin contrasted gorgeously with the white shirt and the black tattoos that snaked from under the collar of his shirt.

“Gentlemen,” she said at last. “Please, come in.”

“Ready for us, beautiful?” Azriel smiled and winked at her.

“Yeah, all three of you…”

Initially, Azriel self-invited himself to be Elain’s date to the birthday party. That was followed by him telling her that he’d be bringing Rhysand as well, since Rhysand needed to be introduced to Feyre. But, apparently, Cassian was also ready to party, since he was standing right here, smirking and looming over everything and everyone.

“Brothers, let me introduce you properly,” Azriel announced, once they were inside. “Lady Elain Archeron, my future wife and the future mother of my children.”

“Ohmygod,” was all Elain managed to breathe, her eyes wide and her cheeks red.

Cassian chuckled under his breath. 

“Az is mental. Don’t mind him,” Cassian waved his hand, as he shouldered his way in.

He was strikingly handsome in a rough, lumberjack-chic kind of a way. Big. At least 6”6. He was probably a Viking or something like that in the past life. A Fae General. A chieftain, who’d smear himself in paint and fight the enemies with all sorts of terrifying weapons. He looked mighty fine in his bespoke suit, but it seems like all these modern trappings were little more than a nuisance to him, and he’d be just as comfortable in some fighting leathers.

“Hi Elain!” he boomed, looking around and whistling softly. “Nice digs, Lady. I’ve seen castles that aren’t as fancy as this. Is it too late for me to become a matchmaker?”

Elain smiled and he pulled her in for a quick hug.

“You are my future sis-in-law apparently!”

“Oh god, Cassian, not you too!” she moaned. 

“Step aside, Lothario,” Azriel hissed at him and Cassian laughed.

“I’d be worried too. He knows I am irresistible to the ladies,” he announced proudly.

“I am positive that Lady Elain can resist you.”

With that, the third man, a lithe, tall, slender, muscular specimen, with an aristocratic bearing, a bit of a posh sneer, and an impressively beautiful face, pushed past Cassian and then gently took Elain’s hand and brought it to his lips.

“Lady Elain Archeron. Allow me to introduce myself. Rhysand Darling.”

“Just Elain,” she told him, but curtsied nevertheless, adding, “Lord Darling.”

He smiled. He reeked of elegance and good breeding. 

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who’s bewitched my surly brother.”

“I am not surly,” Azriel threw with a frown.

Elain reached for him and then took Azriel’s hand in hers. 

“He is alright,” she approved, smiling at him. “He’s grown on me.”

“I believe you know my mother and my sister,” Rhysand commented, as he clasped his hands behind his back and circled the formal living room and the parlour, admiring the art on the walls.

“Kandinsky,” he muttered to himself.

“I do,” Elain confirmed. “Lady Selene and the Duchess are members of the Women’s Institute, as are my sisters and I.”

“Wait, what?” Cassian gaped at the two of them. “You know each other? You know Selene?”

“We circulate in the same places,” Elain said vaguely.

Scowling, Azriel growled, “Yeah, with the Queen, right?”

“Her Majesty was a member of the Institute as well. The Sandringham Chapter to be precise,”

“You met the Queen?” Cassian gawked at her like she suddenly started juggling fire balls.

“Elain is a Lady,” Azriel said with a sigh, looking somehow depressed about it. 

Elain held his hand in hers and gently rubbed her thumb over his pulse. When Azriel looked at her, she was smiling at him and that smile managed to calm him down somehow. Like Elain didn’t care about the difference in their upbringing, and she liked him for…him.

So Azriel smiled back at her and then whispered, “you aren’t even ready yet.”

“I’ve been baking.”

Azriel smiled excitedly and said, “I can’t wait to eat it! You know, matchy….Ours, is a match baked in heaven.”

“You are so ridiculous, I love it!” Elain stared at him, but then couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I am not ridiculous! I am right,” he argued.

“Where is the little beastie with the bows?” Cassian looked around, seeking out Piglet.

Azriel frowned and also twisted his head this way and that way.

“Where is little matey?”

Elain pursed her lips and then pointed to the sofa in the family room. 

“There he is. Being dramatic.”

And after a pause, added, “and RUDE! We have guests, and you are being absolutely rude!”

Azriel rushed to the pug.

Piglet was still dressed in his onesie, laying on the sofa arm, unmoving. 

Depressed Piglet

“Pinky, my lovie, what’s wrong?” Azriel cooed, stroking the pug’s back. 

Piglet didn’t move and just lay there listlessly, his little short legs draped over the sofa arm. Azriel nosed into his back and whispered, “what’s wrong? Daddy is home. I’ll take care of my boy.” He then picked Piglet up and cradled him to his chest. 

“He is depressed,” Elain threw, while Rhysand watched Azriel fuss over the dog with amusement. 

“Depressed?!?!” Azriel gasped. “Why? What made him depressed?”

Elain crossed her arms on her chest, and said, her voice laced with disappointment.

“We went to the vet today: to get Piglet’s longevity shots. It was a substitute vet–not his usual one–so he gave him a check up too.”

“Is he okay?” Azriel exclaimed in fright. “Is he sick?!”

Rhysand snorted a laugh at Azriel’s reaction. Azriel didn’t even look at him, while flipping him the bird.

“Whoa, is the doggo okay?” Cassian also asked, worried. 

“He is fine. But the vet said that he is,” she took a piece of paper off the counter, and read out loud, “mildly anxious, highly spirited, overweight, overall well-adjusted, but with an extreme case of separation anxiety.”

As she repeated the diagnosis, Piglet released a tragic howl, before burrowing into Azriel’s neck.

“And he’s been like this ever since we came back.”

Azriel rocked Piglet back and forth in his embrace, kissing the top of his head. 

“Don’t listen to the stupid vet. You aren’t overweight. You are just plump. And that’s okay. You are built for feed, not speed.”

Rhys laughed again, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the scene. 

“And it’s okay to have separation anxiety. I am anxious every time I am separated from Ellie. And from you.”

“What exactly are longevity shots?” Rhys asked, cocking his head.

“They are illegal!” Elain announced proudly.

“Illegal?”

“Yes. They are stem cell shots. Not legal here. But I am not having my dog die–ever. So he gets his longevity shots every six months.”

“Must be a pricey enterprise?”

“It is. Three thousand a pop. And I don’t care. It’s worth it.”

“Worth it,” Azriel agreed, and then gently pulled Piglet away from his neck and looked into his big, sad eyes.

“Baby boy, do you want to go to a party?” he asked. “Do you want to be the star? You'll wear the nicest outfit and you’ll have so much fun there. Everyone will be loving on you. What do you say?”

Piglet sniffled, clearly needing more encouragement.

“There will be snacks,” Cassian added.

“Yes. And cake. And maybe chicken nuggies! They are your faves!”

“He likes chicken nuggets?” Rhys asked, chuckling.

“They are chicken meatballs, but we call them ‘chicken nuggies’,” Azriel explained. 

And then, he started signing. And dancing. With Piglet dangling in his hands, Azriel sang to the tune of Jose Feliciano’s ‘Feliz Navidad’:

Please feed the dog

Please feed the dog

Please feed the dog

I am so hungry

I don’t wanna starve!

I want a bucket of chicken nuggies!

I want a bucket of chicken nuggies!

I want a bucket of chicken nuggies!

And a slice of meatloaf

Everyone stared at him, slack-jawed. 

“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” Rhys whispered in horrified awe. “Do we need an intervention?”

“Don’t get in between a man and his dog,” Cassian warned.

The dog meanwhile, bobbed his head to the song, finally coming to, and returning to his normal self. 

“Did he get snacks today?” Azriel asked Elain. “He looks a little thin.”

“Yeah, he lost 5 kilos because he didn’t have snacks today,” she threw tartly, still displeased with Piglet’s attitude and behaviour.

“Okay, can we at least do the Advent Calendar?” Azriel pleaded, while Piglet slipped from his hands and then trotted happily to the huntboard and got on his hind leg, waiting for his daily treat.

“Oh, really? Now he is ready?” Elain asked dryly, staring Piglet down, who turned away from her and towards a much safer Azriel. And he even sweetened the deal with a smile, grinning at his dad, and showing a full row of his tiny little crooked teeth. 

“He is ready!” Azriel announced excitedly, and then there was a whole argument between him and Cassian over who is going to break the slat and take out the treat. Cassian won, because he declared that he ‘never gets to do it, but Azriel gets to do it all the time!’ With that, he broke the seal, took out a small chewable treat shaped like a bone and broke it in half, before Azriel could stop him.

“Oh no!”

“What?” Cassian asked, alarmed, while Piglet crunched on half the snack.

“You don’t understand…it’s dog maths,”

“What?”

With a deep sigh, Azriel explained, “If you break a treat into two, that actually means zero treats. Or, for example, when dinner is at 7 pm, but you serve dinner at 7:02 pm, that means that you are two hours late. Though if you serve dinner at 6 pm, you are also two hours late.

“Anything that is human food is also dog food, but dog food is only dog food. In addition, human food is not counted towards food or snacks, therefore, it could be consumed in unlimited amounts.”

Rhys was shaking with laughter, while Cassian was clearly doing some complex calculations in his head, as he listened to Azriel. He fed Piglet the second part of the treat, and then confirmed, “So this means he did not receive a treat at all?”

“Exactly. A broken treat does not count as a treat.”

“I am adopting dog maths for all my maths,” Rhys decided right then and there. 

Elain was watching the brouhaha with a shake of her head, before she asked, “May I count on you three, gentlemen, to undress him, put this tie on him, and then put his coat on.”

She handed Azriel a brown chequered tie and a Burberry jacket for the dog, but he in turn handed it to Cassian and said, “I am going to go help my girl out.”

It’s not that Elain needed help exactly, but she didn’t mind it either. Cassian looked at the dog attire uncertainly, gnawing on his lip, and then told Rhys ‘you are helping’.

“He likes to escape,” Azriel offered helpfully, as he ran after Elain up the stairs. 

The moment the other two men were out of sight, he lifted her in his arms and pressed his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. 

“I’ve missed my girl,” he murmured, dragging his nose over her jawline, up her cheek, kissing her softly and slowly.

“Azriel,” she moaned into his hair, grabbing the back of his neck.

“Let’s fuck off and not go to the party, send Cass, Rhys and pug, and stay in and fuck?” he proposed, hope shining in his eyes.

She laughed softly and said, “I think my sister might be a bit affronted if I didn’t attend her 25th birthday so I could stay home and fuck, as you put it.”

“Who, Fey? Fey wouldn’t care!” he blew his cheeks, “she is our shipper!”

“What?”

“She ships us hard. Wants us to be together!”

“Is this your dark romance lingo?”

“You should join the dark romance revolution,” he suggested. “You can join our Book Club,”

“Wait, you have a book club?”

“Yes, we do. But shit, you can’t! No girls allowed,” he shrugged apologetically.

“You have an all-men Book Club where you read dark romances?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah. We are not sexist or anything. We read romances and smut.”

“You just said that no girls are allowed in your Book Club. That’s the definition of ‘sexist’.”

He frowned, thinking, while he deposited her on the floor in their bedroom, and plopped down on the bed himself. 

“Oh yeah. Oh, well, a little sexist. But not super sexist.”

“Oh, well, phew. As long as you aren’t super sexist!”

Rolling on his side, and propping his head, he gave her a heated, lascivious look and said,

“Come on, strip, baby. Show me what you are wearing!”

“Since when did our relationship include stripping?” she pondered, as she disappeared in the walk-in closet.

“Not yet, but it should include plenty of stripping,” he decided. “I am all stripping-ready and if you’d like me to, I can strip right now.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Elain didn’t seem surprised.

Downstairs, it seemed that the two humans lost control of the situation pretty quickly. There was banging, suspicious crashing, curses and little claws clacking frantically on the floor. Cries of ‘hold him!’ and ‘shit’ and ‘why is he so fast’ peppered the commotion.

Azriel was smiling, listening to the chaos. He did warn them.

“This? Or this?”

When he glanced at Elain, his jaw dropped. Everything was forgotten.

If the house was on fire, he wouldn't have cared. 

Because his naughty Elain came out, holding two hangers in her hands, and wearing nothing but a tiny, lacy, baby blue lingerie set. It hugged her generous form very deliciously and was basically see-through, which made Azriel swallow audibly. He asked for stripping and well, here they were. He could clearly see her full breasts and the pink nipples beneath the gossamer-thin material. And the way her knickers wrapped around the round hips just so…the firm, but ample thighs…

“Nu!” she pressed.

“What?” he asked, looking dazed.

At that point though, Piglet tore through the bedroom. He looked a proper state. Half of his onesie was hanging off his body, and he zoomed wildly around the bedroom, diving under the bed, before emerging and repeating his frantic circle.

From downstairs, they heard Rhys’s disgruntled holler, “What is this dog on?! What’s in the longevity shots? Cocaine?! I bet it’s coke!”

Elain stood there, almost naked, laughing, while Azriel devoured her with his eyes.

Piglet stopped his zooming and gave the situation an assessing gaze, looking whether any serial killers needed sorting out. Having not found any, he gave everyone a victorious bark and then bounded out the bedroom and down the stairs. 

“Hold him on the right!” Cassian shouted.

“He is too fast!” Rhys screamed back, “how’s he so fast when he only has three legs!”

“Bribe him with a strawberry or a piece of cheese!” Azriel yelled in turn, not taking his eyes off Elain.

She grumbled, “how many men over 6”5 does it take to dress a three-legged pug?”

Azriel sat up on the bed and whispered, “Come here, baby.”

“Why do I feel like if I do, then we might not be leaving here at all?”

“You might be correct, but maybe, just maybe, if I touch some of these fleshy soft bits,”

“WHAT? Fleshy soft bits??” she gasped incredulously, while Azriel’s very long arm wrapped around her hips and he pushed her closer. 

“Such,” he kissed her, in fact, soft belly, “fine,” another kiss right below her breast, “fleshy,” and his lips landed on the side of her waist, where it curved sensually and where he licked a path down to her hip, “soft,” and he lightly bit the spot just above the lacy band of her underwear, “bits,” and he inhaled so hard with his face against the mound of her sex that a satisfied, raw groan of pleasure reverberated deep within his chest. 

Elain almost fainted, when suddenly, he wrapped his mouth over the lips of her pussy, biting them gently through the material of the underwear. 

“My god,” she gasped, not knowing whether to push him away, or to pull his face closer and into her slit.

He dragged his tongue against the seam of her folds, and muttered hoarsely, his voice rough and harsher than usual, “do you know how much I’ve dreamt about eating your pussy? How much I want to watch you coming on my tongue?”

“My god, Azriel,” Elain managed to growl out, while he filled his huge palms with the flesh of her round ass cheeks. His thumbs stroked her skin, while he kissed her thighs, around her belly button, before gladly sinking his teeth into her breast and biting her nipple.

“I will be your god, my beautiful Elain,” he promised. “Once I make you come, you’ll understand the definition of ‘my god’.”

“So confident.”

“Oh I am.”

He pulled back a bit, and told her, “Gotta confess. A nice bare pink pussy is my kryptonite.”

“I suppose I fit the bill then?”

“You do. You always do.”

She picked up the two dresses that she had dropped on the floor and showed them to him again.

One was a wintry, knit dress, which no doubt, would look mighty fine wrapped over her form. The other, was a much more formal dress, in some ways sculptural, made of some type of heavy satin. It was cream, tailored and spectacular. 

“This is more practical,” Elain said, lifting the knit dress. “I can wear it with tall boots and I think it would look nice,”

“No,” he said flatly.

“No?”

“You aren’t going to look ‘nice’. You’ll look stunning. ‘Nice’ is not for Elain Archeron. It’s not for my girl.”

She bit her lip adorably, considering his words, while he was watching her like a hungry hound.

“I do have these shoes that I’ve been dying to wear, but they are open and it’s December.”

“Bring the shoes,” he ordered simply. “You’ll put them on there.”

“Okay,” she agreed, though it didn’t seem like she needed a lot of encouragement. 

…Downstairs, Cassian had Piglet in some kind of MMA headlock, while Rhysand was attempting to put the jacket on the pug. 

Small wins: they succeeded in taking the onesie off. And Piglet had a tie around his neck, even if it was all skewed. 

The jacket was proving to be a challenge.

“You two seriously cannot be trusted with a dog,” Azriel lamented, watching the pathetic display. 

“Fuck, Elain,” Cassian gasped. “You look…wow. You look really beautiful.”

Azriel immediately wrapped a possessive, proprietary arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. 

“Thank you, Cassian,” Elain smiled and then snapped her fingers.

With frightening ease, Piglet broke out of Cassian’s hold, showing that he was just indulging them and that they never stood a chance. He also grabbed the jacket out of Rhys’s hands and trotted to Elain, handing it to her. 

“Are you going to be a good boy tonight?” she asked, as she dressed him in about 47 seconds. “It’s Aunt Fey’s birthday and you have to be nice to her. She’ll want to give you hugs,” at that Piglet sighed, “and you have to give her hugs.”

Piglet led the charge, and when he saw Dev and Dev asked to ‘shake’, he shook with him. Azriel was carrying the birthday cake, internally freaking out. That was a heavy responsibility.  Rhysand was charged with carrying the cinnamon buns and the pastries. Somehow, Cassian ended up without a task, however, once they piled into the car, he was responsible for holding Piglet in his lap. Elain carried and touched nothing other than her purse. 

“Camden then?” Dev confirmed with Elain.

“Yes,” Elain nodded, sandwiched between Azriel and Rhysand, and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the amount of testosterone in the car. The most amorous sensations came from Azriel’s side, whose scent she wanted to drown in. The heat of body, the muscular arm that pressed into hers, the very sight of his gorgeous throat which she wanted to kiss and lick and bite had her squirming in her seat, pressing her thighs together. Azriel gave her a side glance and smirked. 

“You feeling okay, baby?” he asked lightly.

“Oh, just splendid!” she assured him tartly.

“You sure? You seem a bit squirmy there,”

“Oh, quite positive. Just setting in,” she offered him a fake smile.

“Anything I can do to help you? Settle in, that is?”

“Doing okay on my own,”

“It would seem so. Perhaps you’ve been doing it on your own for a bit too long…and might require a helping hand after all?”

Cassian squinted at them, stroking Piglet’s head, looking absolutely and hysterically ridiculous holding a dressed up pug. Elain kept averting her eyes from the two of them, because she knew that she was about to burst into laughter.

“Is this some kind of sex talk?” Cassian asked suspiciously.

Rhys smiled a brief smile, and it occurred to Elain that nothing much escaped this man. 

“Ellie doesn’t do sex talks,” Azriel told him.

“Hmmm…sounds like sex talk,” Cassian insisted. “Will there be girls at this party?”

“Quite a few,” Elain nodded. 

“Okay, maybe I’ll hook up with someone.”

“You are not going there to hook up!” Rhys warned him.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not an American frat party where you are going to be shagging someone in an empty bedroom. We are going to a birthday party. And we weren’t even invited!”

“I was invited,” Azriel argued.

“Technically, you weren’t,” Rhys argued. “You are going as Elain’s date.”

“Oh.”

“Then what am I?” Cassian wondered.

“Piglet’s date,” Elain joked. “Listen, it’s fine. You were all technically invited. Feyre wanted to meet everyone. She is quite taken with Azriel already. I am sure you’ll impress her as well. Now, impressing my older sister Nesta might be a little more difficult.”

“Oh yeah?” Cassian instantly leaned forward, as if the challenge of impressing Nesta intrigued him.

“Nesta is…complicated,” was all Elain said. 

“Is she as beautiful as you?” Cassian queried.

Elain got all adorably pink and flustered and Azriel gave his brother an unimpressed look.

“Nesta is very attractive,” Azriel growled, stroking the side of Elain’s neck with his thumb. “But no one is as beautiful as Elain.”

Elain lit up like a Christmas tree at his words, blushing and smiling and trying to hide, but he only kissed her temple and held her closer.

-

When Rhysand heard ‘Camden’ he did not expect this. He wasn’t exactly a Camden type of a person, so he wondered if he’d stick out like a sore thumb in the Camden crowd. He was an Old Etonian. But when they arrived, he breathed a sigh of relief and reminded himself that the Archerons weren’t exactly poor. They stopped next to a sprawling refurbished industrial building. It was old London brick–dark and dirtied with age, which gave it character. There were a couple of huge windows, now brightly lit up, and behind the house was a canal and a little dock. This was nice. 

Cassian got out first, and Piglet confidently trotted to the door and barked, announcing his arrival. Azriel was last, holding on that cake like his life depended on it. Rhysand smiled. Azriel was such a good boyfriend. Who would’ve thought? But he turned out to be the exemplary boyfriend, who was utterly obsessed with Elain. To an unhealthy degree, in Rhys’s opinion. Azriel already marked his body permanently with all things Elain. If this didn’t go well and ended in a way that Azriel wasn’t expecting, well…it would get messy. Hearts would be broken. Dreams would be shattered. Tattoos would have to be removed or covered up…

The door opened and a tall, very slim woman stood in front of them. That she was Elain’s sister was obvious. But her face was sharper, the eyes a steely grey-blue, long golden brown hair tied into a no-nonsense chignon at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple pearl-grey dress, well-tailored, but without frills, and a huge diamond and emerald brooch, a la the late Queen. 

For a moment, she just stood there, assessing them all with an unflinching gaze.

“Are you Nesta?” Cassian suddenly stepped forward, his attention wholly on the willowy, busty beauty in front of him.

“You are late,” she said instead, ignoring him.

“We aren’t!” Elain argued. “The party doesn’t start until six and we have plenty of time to prepare.”

Cassian wasn’t deterred and announced, “I am Cassian!”

“Congratulations,” Nesta said. Then, she asked Elain, “What is this? A reverse harem?” 

Before the confused Elain could answer, Cassian asked excitedly, 

“Oh, a fellow reverse harem lover?! Very nice. What’s your favourite book?”

Nesta gave him a puzzled, but intrigued look, while he continued, undeterred, 

“Mine is “The Kings’ Wife’! What’s yours?”

“‘Forget-Me-Not Bombshell’,” she answered flatly, surprising everyone. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Behind Nesta, they heard an excited voice, and an exclamation, “Elain, this cake!!! Oh my goddess! It’s crazy beautiful!! Piggy! Come…Come! Give me hugs! Come to me, my good boy.”

Piglet muscled his way between the sea of legs, and hopped towards the birthday girl, being a good boy, just like he promised. 

She sat on the floor and accepted him in her arms, taking off his coat. 

“Welcome everyone!” she said loudly. 

“Thank you for having us,” Rhys said ahead of everyone. He wasn’t sure why.

And then, her eyes landed on him. 

Feyre. What a name.

A gently lovely girl, with blue eyes and brown hair, and a scattering of visible freckles all over her nose and cheeks. Not a beauty like Elain. Not as striking as Nesta. And yet…

“I’ve heard your voice,” she suddenly said, her luminous eyes firmly planted on Rhys’s face.

“Pardon?” he stuttered.

“It was like you called me,” she continued, “and I heard you. Your voice. Across the hills, calling me. I think it was in a dream,” she laughed nervously. “But your voice was very distinctive.”

“Well, then I am glad that I am the man of your dreams. Literally.”

At that, Feyre laughed, but it was nervous, as if there was a grain of truth in his voice.

Rhys continued,

“Happy birthday, Feyre darling.”

She got up from the floor, still holding the pug. Piglet looked between the two of them with a smug look on his squished face. Like he knew something they didn’t.

“Are you Rhysand?” she asked shyly.

“I am Rhysand,” he confirmed. “You’ve heard of me?”

“I have. Apparently, I’ve also heard you. Welcome.”

Like her sisters, Feyre also wore a plain dress, of deep dark blue velvet. It was simple, but form-fitting, exposing her elegant neck. She didn’t wear any jewellery and at that, Rhys smirked and reached into his jacket pocket. He stepped closer to the birthday girl, ignoring all the curious stares from his brothers and her sisters, and then took out a flat black box and handed it to her.

“For you.”

Feyre blushed prettily and looked up at him from under her long lashes. 

“A gift? For me?” she repeated, taking the box from him.

“A pretty gift for a pretty girl,” he smiled, smoothly opening the lid and suddenly taking out a…crown. A diadem. 

Nesta stared at the gift, and so did Cassian, and even Azriel, with complete astonishment.

It was a delicate band of white gold, shaped like a branch, studded in places with tiny diamonds and lapis lazuli. 

“A crown for the lady.”

Rhys smiled at Feyre, whose eyes were as big as saucers and then gently placed the diadem upon her head, effectively crowning her.

“Well, now it’s perfect.”

“I…my…I can’t…” Feyre began to babble frantically, but Rhys only offered an indulgent smile and said, “of course you can. Now, did you know that Piglet loves me and allowed me to dress him?” he lied.

“Oh no way! Really?!” she exclaimed, totally falling for his bullshit. “He could be so standoffish. And if he wants to zoom…well, then you can’t even catch him!”

“No?! You don’t say?” Rhys pretended to be shocked, while offering her his arm.

She took it easily, still clutching Piglet to her, her eyes never leaving Rhys’s face.

“May I tell you something?” she requested.

“Well, of course! What is it?”

“I think that you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she gushed. “And I thought that Azriel was handsome,”

“Well, he is another pretty face for sure. But not as pretty as mine,” Rhys winked at her, and they disappeared inside the huge loft, joking and laughing.

“Did he just give her a tiara?” Nesta questioned in disbelief.

“Yeah…who needs soup when you can just get a tiara,” Elain agreed. 

Turning abruptly to Cassian, Nesta said, “Help me please.”

“With pleasure,” he grinned. 

“I’ll let Elain take her coat off, but please bring the cake into the kitchen,” Nesta commanded, picking up the boxes with buns and pastries, while Cassian lifted the cake.

“Be careful with your bear paws,” she warned him sternly.

“Well, don’t stress me out!” he threw back, and they also disappeared inside the cavernous house, sniping and bickering playfully.

“Well, I don’t know what just happened there,” Azriel twirled his finger in the direction of his brothers, “but something did.”

-

Feyre’s place was wonderful, though very different from Elain’s. The floors were dark, old wide planks, the walls–exposed brick, shiplap, stucco, there were beams above, and soaring ceilings, impressive windows and all sorts of interesting industrial touches. 

“I like our house better,” Azriel decided easily, after he looked around.

Elain smiled at his bluntness, finally taking off her coat. She sat on the arm of the sofa, and unzipped her boots. They were in a small sitting room, where Feyre usually watched TV. Just behind the wall, they heard laughter, clinking of glasses, and the arrival of more guests. Excited compliments of ‘Feyre, look at your tiara!’ ‘Fey are you wearing a crown?!’ ‘Feyre, you are a proper high noble lady’, ‘Should we call you Lady Feyre?’ and so on. They also heard Piglet squealing and galloping around, yelling wawabawa akwakwaka which was his usual call for snacks. Since he was ‘depressed’ earlier today, his snack consumption was quite low compared to his daily snack load.

It was only when Elain turned her head that she gasped and recoiled.

Because Azriel…

He was…

Well…

He was on one knee in front of her. 

“Hi,” he smiled at her, seeing her shocked face.

“What…what are you…ohmygod…what are you doing?!” 

She was literally hyperventilating.

Clutching the front of her dress, she was gasping like a fish, her face flushed.

“Elain, will you,” he began asking solemnly,

“YES!” she cried out, eyes wild. “Yes,”

“Give me your pretty foot,” he continued nonchalantly, smirking to himself.

“Wait, what?” 

“Your foot, pretty girl,” he extended his hand out. 

“You don’t want to…” her voice faded into a whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“I am sure,” she hissed.

“So, you don’t want me to ask you to marry you?” he confirmed, while he took her foot and then pulled out her fancy high-heeled open toe pumps from the bag, and slid one on. 

“No!” she shouted.

“No need to yell, beautiful,” he told her, working on the complex tie and clasp of the shoe. 

On his knees

“I am not yelling,” she pouted.

“So you didn’t get excited when you saw me on one knee?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think that maybe, just maybe I’ll pull a ring out?”

“No!” 

“Hmmm. You seem a bit upset, sweetheart.”

“I am not upset,” she folded her arms on her chest, as she bit her lip aggressively, trying to stifle the tears that threatened to fall. 

“So you don’t want to marry me?” he pressed.

“No!” she repeated yet again.

“Hmmm,” he gave another annoying hum, and then took her left hand and squeezed her ring finger, before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “And you don’t want a big diamond ring on this pretty little finger of yours?”

“No!”

“Okay, I am a little sad, as I was planning to stop by Cartier, but if you aren’t interested,”

“You are not going to do it!” she argued petulantly.

He shrugged, “who knows…But seeing as you aren’t interested anyway,”

Quickly she amended, “I am not not interested…”

“Oh no? Because I did think that you looked a bit devastated when you didn’t find me proposing.”

“I am not devastated. I was just surprised,” Elain insisted stubbornly.

He tied her second shoe and then bent to kiss her ankle.

“And if I did, propose that is, what would my Cinderella say to her Prince?”

He wrapped his big, warm hands over her bare legs, rubbing the backs of her knees slowly, as he waited for her answer.

“I don’t know! Can I say ‘yes’ after knowing you for 2 months?”

“You can say ‘yes’ after knowing me for two hours,”

“You called me a cow, and a prissy bird or something like that in the first two hours of our meeting,” she glowered at him.

“You implied that I couldn’t get it up,” he reminded her quickly.

“Ergh, I didn’t mean it,”

“Because I can certainly demonstrate–me getting it up pretty well,” he offered. 

“So you keep saying.”

“And you keep denying me the opportunity,” he scolded, before kissing her hand again. “Look at me,” he ordered, and then lifted her chin, so their eyes met. “The truth is, at the end of the day, you are the one person I want to come home to. You are the only person who I want to tell about my day. You are the one who I want to share my happiness with, my sandnes, my frustrations. So, I’ll ask you, Elain Archeron. And you better say yes. Because there is no getting rid of me.”

Elain wiped her tears with her first. She didn’t even know why she was crying. Probably because she loved him. And the thought of him not asking her to be with him forever did in fact, devastate her. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked gently.

“I dunno,” she admitted, wiping her tears again.

“You don’t have to cry. I am yours. I am.”

“You don’t have anyone else?”

“Nah…” then he stopped and looked at her guiltily, adding,  “Well, I do…” he paused mysteriously and Elain gasped in silent horror.

“You do?!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah…”

“Who is she?”

“Oh, it’s a he,” he said immediately, grinning at her. “He is furry, likes snacks a lot, has three legs, snores and zooms,”

Through her tears, Elain smiled and then pushed him. 

“Are you just going to traumatise me for the rest of the night?” she demanded, finally getting up.

“Do you like me on my knees in front of you, Miss Archeron?”

“That’s the least you can do for putting me through all this nonsense,” she looked down at her legs, her sexy shoes, and sighed. 

“You are gorgeous. A girl of my dreams,”

“Apparently, that’s Rhys–he is in Feyre’s dreams,” Elain said dryly.

“Yeah, he is the girl of her dreams,” Azriel nodded and then rose up, while Elain laughed.

-

Cassian sat in an armchair, observing the revelry in front of him. He swirled his whiskey lazily around the tumbler, feeling mellow. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he was under the influence for sure. It was a good feeling. The party-loving pug had arrived about fifteen minutes ago, definitely also under the influence of something, because he yawned widely and then raised his front paws, asking Cassian to pick him up. It looked like Piglet had decided that Cassian could join his secret and exclusive pug-pack and Cassian was only too happy to oblige. Now, Piglet was snoring blissfully, his head resting on Cassian’s thigh. Taking his pug-protector duties very seriously, Cassian scowled at anyone who attempted to disturb the sleeping pup, and considering his size and general appearance, no one dared to contradict him. 

“Hey Nes,” he called out. “Come sit with me.”

Nesta, who was walking by, gave him her typical icy look and snapped, “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Nes?” he smiled playfully. “Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

He patted the seat next to him. It would be a snuggly fit for the two of them, since he took up so much space.

“What do you want?” she demanded, but he noticed that she didn’t exactly walk away.

“Come, sit with me. I’ll tell you a story.”

“I don’t want stories,”

“Sure you do, my prickly rose.”

“You are overly familiar, Mr. Night,” Nesta sipped her white wine, but Cassian reached out and held out his massive hand to her. And Nesta…Nesta…took it. He pulled her to him gently and she stepped closer, before he wrapped his arm around her waist and to her utter dismay, placed her next to him. Piglet moved onto his side, but didn’t wake up.

“The little beastie is tired,” Cassian murmured, his expression soft.

“What do you want, Mr. Night?” she tried again. 

“You remind me of Elain,” he noted simply. “She is mad formal as well.”

“I don’t know you at all!”

“You can find out more. Whatever you want.”

“What do you do?” Nesta asked, squirming next to his massive, muscular body. God he was handsome. Azriel was handsome, hands down maybe the most handsome one out of the three–and that was saying something. Rhysand–not her type, but undeniably beautiful. But this one–objectively, he was probably the least classically handsome, yet to Nesta, he was simply stunning. Everything she didn’t know she liked he possessed. This size of his, the muscles, the strong features, the jet black silky hair tied into a haphazard bun. 

“I am a sports agent,” he answered. “What about you?”

“A barrister.”

“I should’ve guessed. Here is what I think, Miss Archeron,”

“What?”

“You are a very successful, very beautiful, very lonely and very misunderstood woman,”

Nesta jolted in her place, her pale face colouring angrily, her brows knitting together at the audacity of his words. His expression remained calm, almost placid, though, unlike Azriel, this wasn’t a placid man. Undeterred he continued, “And I am guessing that you are knocking on 30 pretty soon, and you aren’t very happy with where you are in life. It should’ve been different, right?”

She attempted to get up, but he held her down, and tsked,

“Before you storm away, let me tell you something,”

“Leave me the hell alone!” she snarled. “You uncouth, rude bastard,”

He chuckled.

“Uncouth, huh? Cute. The Archeron girls are adorable. Now, look at them,” he jerked his head towards the crowd. Reluctantly, Nesta followed his gaze, and watched Elain and Azriel seated next to each other on top of the radiator cover, eating what looked like ice cream. Well, he was holding the bowl, but he was feeding Elain, who was licking the spoon, before he dunked it back into the ice cream, and took a swipe himself. She rested her head on his shoulder, both of her hands wrapped securely around his upper arm, holding onto him like she couldn’t let go. 

It struck Nesta then–how relaxed Elain looked. Elain was always a little bit tense, unless she was with Piglet. She was especially tense around Eris, always worrying about his opinion, always desperate to please him, always seeking his approval, or a rare compliment. Elain worried about her figure, having been told by their mother that she was chubby and that she’d never get married, because men wanted a slender wife. Elain was insecure, old-fashioned, but bold and entrepreneurial, which made for a confusing combination. But never did Nesta observe Elain looking so…content. Happy. At ease. She held on to that big, tattooed, striking man and only had her eyes for him. It didn’t look like the rest of the world existed for her, because he was the centre of it. 

“She is in love,” Nesta breathed, the realisation slamming into her like a hammer.

Azriel was in love, for a long time now, and of that she was sure. But Elain? Elain had fallen too.

Turning abruptly to Cassian, she found him with his hands clasped behind his head, looking mighty satisfied, with a proud smirk on his lips.

“What are you so happy about?” she demanded.

He tsked and said, “I set them up.”

“What are you on about?”

“Without me, they wouldn’t have met! I was the one who contacted her. I was the one who dragged him to meet with her. I was the matchmaker. And look how well I matched them. Now, obviously, this extends to Feyre and Rhys now. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have met either,”

“Hold your horses with them! They just met tonight,”

“And yet he crowned her like she was his lady,” Cassian reminded her.

“Which was weird,”

“Rhys likes big gestures,”

“Alright, fine, what do you want? To quit your job as a sports agent and work with Elain as a Junior Matchmaker?”

At that, Cassian laughed, and woke up Piglet. The dog stretched, yawned and then rolled over and quickly located his ma and dad in the crowd. With a happy yip, he jumped off the chair and ran over to them. 

Nesta turned away from Cassian, watching Azriel scoop some ice cream into a soup bowl and let Piglet slurp it all with messy gusto. Nesta knew how much Piglet loved a pup cup, and this was a pup cup on steroids. Elain and Azriel cooed and laughed over their dog, holding hands, watching him, commenting something to each other, and Nesta was struck by another revelation–they were a family. Somewhere along the road, somehow, the three of them formed a family of their own. And Elain was no longer just an Archeron. For almost thirty years, Nesta had her two sisters, and the three Archeron sisters were an unshakable, even somewhat notorious unit. They were regal and beautiful and available and wealthy. They were the Three Sisters. And now…She glanced at Elain again, who was back on the radiator cover, seated with her legs crossed and placed on Azriel’s lap, who held them tightly. Whatever he was saying, was making Elain laugh loudly, her head thrown back. The grouping of empty glasses near her probably played a role as well. But it stung Nesta somewhere deep in her chest. Her beloved sister was no longer hers. Her beloved sister was now beloved by someone else. Elain’s light and softness were well and truly melding with the untamed intensity of Azriel Night. 

“The only one I want to matchmake for, is you,” Cassian said firmly. His tone was steady, but he said it in such a manner that Nesta turned to him, looking into his lovely luminous hazel eyes. 

“And who are you setting me up with exactly?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Me.”

“You?”

“Me. You and I are going on a date.”

“Excuse me?” she almost choked on her wine.

“Why are you surprised, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you, sweetheart. What do you say? Walk on the wild side? Me and you?” he winked at her.

“You are mad,” he concluded simply.

“Perhaps. Doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

She stood up from the chair, and he didn’t stop her this time. He just looked at her expectantly.

“Fine,” she said tersely.

Cassian smiled.

“I knew you were a smart girl.”

“I am already regretting it,” she warned.

“You won’t have any regrets. Once I am done with you, you’ll be asking for more and more dates.”

“Doubtful.”

“I’ll prove it.”

She threw him a withering glance, and added,

“The only reason I am saying yes to you is because,”

“My blinding handsomeness? All my bulging muscles? My mighty height? Wicked sense of humour? Winning personality?” he offered.

Nesta rolled her eyes and moaned, “Help me Lord. No, ridiculous man.”

“What then? What secret weapon do I possess that totally made you want to go out with me?”

“Piglet trusts you,” she shrugged, like it didn’t mean much. 

“Oh…”

“And he doesn’t trust many people. I’ve been watching him. He trusts no one like he trusts Azriel. He even trusts Azriel with Elain! Which is unheard of. He is actually capable of leaving her with Azriel and not hovering like he is surgically attached to her. And when I saw today that he actually sought you out and slept next to,”

“That was the turning point?” Cassian chuckled. “The beastie trusting me?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s good to know. He is my wingman. Now, where the fuck is cake?! Are we cutting or what?”

“It’s a birthday, not a wedding,” Nesta reminded him. Cassian took her by the hand, soliciting a small girlish gasp of surprise from her. 

“Yeah…not yet.”

-

Elain was standing, eating birthday cake, chatting with her old classmate Lucien, who was also one of Feyre’s closest friends. Lucien was also distantly related to Eris, which only confirmed yet again how incestuous their circle actually was. Azriel teased her about it, but he was actually correct in his observation. 

Lucien’s been throwing confused glances in Azriel’s direction most of the night, as if trying to figure out who he was to Elain, and what the nature of their relationship was.

But he was too polite to ask, so instead, he joked, “So, when am I going to be set up with someone sexy, smart and successful? What am I, a wet herring?”

Elain laughed.

“All herrings are wet by default,” she told him, “I thought you weren’t interested in matchmaking?”

“I wasn’t. But seeing how well you are doing, I am eager to have you change my mind.”

“Are you ready then?” Elain asked seriously.

A year ago, Lucien was in a very serious car accident, where he lost his eyes in the aftermath. His longtime girlfriend left him shortly afterwards. He’s been devastated ever since, and wouldn’t venture out in any social situations, let alone dates. This was the first time that he decided to attend anything that had more than three guests, and only because he and Feyre went way back.

“I might be. I want to have someone looking at me the way you are looking at him,” and he nodded towards Azriel who was talking in a group of men.

Elain squirmed a bit and blushed at his insinuation.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Eris. Not my business,” he told her quickly.

“Thank you. But Eris hasn’t been in touch for weeks now. It’s nobody’s fault.”

“His loss. Maybe mine as well,” and he looked at her with a longing that made her almost uncomfortable. “But I don’t think it was ever meant to be–you and I.”

“I don’t think so,” she agreed. “We look good on paper. But maybe we don’t work so well as anything but friends.”

“The friendship is good,” Lucien decided, sipping some of his champagne. “Let’s do that. Let’s be friends.”

“And there might be someone of interest who could be a good potential,” Elain murmured thoughtfully, clearly thinking about something.

“Oh yeah?”

“But you’d have to be a client. Formally.”

“At least tell me her name!” he laughed. “What if she has a horrible name!”

“Nuala. How’s that? Can you live with that?”

“Oh. Nuala. I like it!”

“So, if you are serious, then ring me up after New Year’s and we’ll create your profile and will get to work.”

“And you think that this wouldn’t be an impediment?” he asked awkwardly, pointing to his face. 

Elain looked at him and said seriously,

“For some, yes. For others, no. If they can’t see beyond the surface and not understand what you bring then it’s probably not a good match. Or a good person.”

Suddenly a familiar, very muscular, very big hand smacked Elain on the ass. 

She whipped and hissed at the grinning Azriel. Piglet was at his feet, looking up, also grinning smugly.

Before she could unleash, Azriel quickly explained, “It’s my burden, beautiful. Every man’s burden–the need to smack his lady’s juicy rump whenever we are near it.”

“Oh, is that so!!” she exclaimed, while Lucien hid his smile in his champagne flute.

“Listen,” Azriel said somberly, like he was being serious. “It’s not easy. It’s not easy to have these…urges. You think I want to walk around, see your gorgeous arse, and be overcome by an intolerable need to slap it? And then I have to trudge and actually, you know, do it! Slap your yummy buns.”

“Yummy buns?!?!?” 

“Oh goodness…” Lucien laughed. “I think I shall leave you two alone to discuss!”

“Not until you tell her that it’s an uncontrollable urge that all men suffer from?” Azriel insisted, wrapping his arm around Elain’s waist.

“Most of us do,” Lucien confirmed. “Not everyone acts on it though,”

“See, not everyone acts on it!” Elain elbowed Azriel and he bowed dramatically.

“I think it depends on the arse. Yours is too tempting not to smack.”

Once Lucien moved on to another group of guests, Azriel grabbed Elain by the hand and dragged her after him, with Piglet hot on their heels.

“You are not having messy sex with me in the closet!” she warned.

He didn’t answer, but threw her her coat and her boots, while lunging at Piglet and taking him by surprise before he could escape.

“Are we leaving?” Elain asked, looking around and at her coat in confusion.

“No. But put it on. We are gonna go out for a sec.”

She frowned at his abruptness, but took off her heels and pulled on her socks and then her boots, before tying her coat with a belt. Piglet was wearing his jacket too, though he looked unamused and put off by the fact that he wasn’t chased around. Azriel even pulled on Piglet’s knit hat, while he dressed himself, and then taking Elain’s hand, he had the three of them sneak out quietly. 

The moment they were outside, Elain gasped softly and threw her head back. 

The world had turned white.

Snow.

Thick, fluffy piles of snow had fallen in the past few hours and now covered everything in pristine brilliant whiteness. It swirled in the lemony light of street lights, falling silently all around them.

Piglet looked up, awed. 

This was a new and beautiful thing that he didn’t remember from before. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he caught snowflakes on his nose, licking his lips loudly. Then, with a happy howl, Piglet burst forth and galloped through the snow, rolling in it and screeching joyfully.

Elain bounced on her heels, clapping her hands excitedly, laughing and also trying to catch some snowflakes on her tongue.

“This is better than sex in the closet!” she giggled, spreading her arms wide.

Azriel came behind her and wrapped his arm across her chest.

“Fuck sex,” he whispered into her ear, his lips warm and tender on her cold skin. She shivered at the proximity, because of how good he smelled, and because he enveloped her in his warmth and his bigness. He continued, his cheek scraping against her own.

“I am trying to be your home, you know. Your safe place. Your go-to person for happy and for sad. I am looking to be the reason you smile, and laugh and clap your hands.”

“Az,” she breathed and turned in his arms, looking up at him. Her chocolate-brown eyes were filled with tears. Tears of love. They rolled silently over her cheeks, while Azriel smiled down at her and whispered, 

“We're still gonna have rough sex though.”

Before she could answer, he gently took her jaw in his fingers and tilted her face so it lined up with his. 

“I want to kiss you, Elain,” he said seriously, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Kiss me then,” she permitted. Thick, white clumps of snow fell on Azriel’s black hair, his eyelashes, her hands that clutched at his shoulders. Her tears dried up and she breathed heavily, disoriented and aroused at once.

And then, Azriel kissed her.

His lips were heavenly. 

Soft and light at first, tentative and gentle. 

She tensed against him, the bulk of his body shielding her from the world. And in this world, in her world, there was only him.

His kiss was tender, but firm, luxuriant and dominant at once. He gripped her face in his massive hands, squeezing tightly and holding her in place, but his lips were soft and loving on her mouth. He didn’t hurry, but tasted her thoroughly, enjoyed the scent of her sugar- and wine-tinted mouth. She tasted delicious–like he always thought she would. Butter and honey and pastry and everything nice. Everything that was Elain. She was sweet and homey and familiar, and he felt like he’d kissed her a million times before. 

His tongue parted her lips at last, and he continued his exploration, but it grew hungrier and more urgent as the kiss progressed. A groan of primal, animalistic pleasure escaped his throat, reverberating against her lips and Elain trembled in his arms, growing hot and needy, despite the falling snow and the sharp wind. 

She felt consumed by him, and yet, worshipped at the same time. Just like always. He ignited feelings in her which she’d never experienced before–didn’t even think that she was capable of them. It was raw and hot, and left her feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Elain didn’t care about anything at that moment, nothing but Azriel Night, the man she came to love so desperately and completely. 

She arched into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding the back of his head, while he cupped her head and delved deeper into her mouth, licking and sucking on her tongue. His other hand fell away from her face and slipped down her back, before pressing into her hip and pushing her closer to him. 

Elain was well aware of his general size and how he was big everywhere. But feeling him now, thick and hard against her belly, definitely aroused–finally made her feel like a woman. She felt desired. Needed. Wanted. Big, strong, powerful, towering Azriel, and she was his undoing right now. Little Elain, whom no one took seriously. Azriel Night was kissing her. Panting for her. Growling in his chest like a beast because of how she made him feel.

She didn’t know that she needed this kiss until his mouth took possession of hers. To say that she’d never been kissed like this before was an understatement of the century. Azriel licked and sucked on her mouth, nipping on her lips, biting them until they were swollen beneath his. It was then that she released a ragged, pitiful moan of pleasure, because he ground himself between her legs and her breasts rubbed into his solid chest, intensifying her pleasure, making her feel everything. 

“This is the sound I want to hear when I am inside of you,” he murmured into her mouth, kissing her lightly, before clamping his teeth over her jaw. 

Elain felt his heart pounding against her own, and she howled into the night when he bit her neck, sucking in on the delicate skin and marking her as his anew. He sucked and bit her and she staggered back, almost falling out of his arms. He didn’t let go of her, but only growled like a beast, panting into her skin, his lips and teeth working themselves deep into her flesh, while his arms banded around her. Elain gasped from the pain and the sublime pleasure, because hearing him grunt and growl like that might have been the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. 

“I want them all to know who you belong to,” he whispered, returning to her lips and kissing her hard and sloppily. She loved this untamed, wild side of him, where he lost his control and revealed the true nature of him and his utter obsession with her. “To me. You belong to me,” he chanted. “Mine.”

“Yours,” she nodded, kissing his lips, kissing his eyes, then his tongue, then his lips again. She was the one to lose control of the situation just as well. If he wanted to fuck her against the wall of her sister’s house, she’d let him. She was achy everywhere, tense and wet between her legs, and when he boldly thrust his hand under her dress, and between her damp thighs, he smiled.

His thumb brushed against her slit, and between kisses he asked, “all for me?”

“All for you,” she nodded, biting his neck hard and leaving teeth marks on his skin.

“I guess you want me to be yours as well?” he joked, and then pulled his hand away from her pussy and licked his thumb. Before she could answer, he kissed her again, his tongue sliding against hers and allowing her to taste her own essence. It felt forbidden and scandalous and not something that Elain’s done before, but she liked it. She liked everything. And this kiss…it was unreal. It was unreal in its intensity and its pure eroticism. Who could even kiss like that? Apparently Azriel Night could. She was buzzing. Head to toe she was shivering, her fingers and toes were tingling, her tongue couldn’t get enough of him, of his taste, of how he felt against her own tongue. 

Once they pulled apart to get some air into their lungs, Azriel smiled at her and rubbed his cold nose against hers. 

“Can I kiss you now any time I want to?” he asked.

“Yes!!” she just about yelled. “And I will be kissing you!”

He clasped his hands on the small of her back and kissed her again, “well, that’s brilliant, because I really, really like kissing you.”

He then reached between their bodies and said, “Now, look what I have!”

“What?”

From his pocket, he took out a…carrot. 

“Stole it from Fey,” he said conspiratorially, as if it explained something to the very perplexed Elain.

He grabbed her hand and said, “come on! We are building a snowman!”

“Now?”

“Well, of course now!” he said, looking at her like she was silly. “Next year we might be building one with our baby. This year, we gotta build it with our fur son.”

“What baby?!” she gasped, as he tugged her along, to the clearing where Piglet was burrowing through the snow, rolling in it and howling with excitement.

“You know–son, daughter. Baby.”

“We are having a baby now?”

“Starts with kissing, ends with a baby. That’s how it is.”

“I wasn’t planning on having any babies,” Elain argued feebly, but he only said, “plans change’.

The snow was thick and wet, but there wasn’t heaps of it, since it was London, after all. 

“You do the head, I’ll do the base,” Azriel instructed, assessing the situation and figuring that they’d have enough snow for a small, modest snowman.

Turned out that Elain sucked at making a snowman. She wasn’t wearing gloves and her hands kept getting cold, so Azriel needed to continuously interrupt his own work, so he could blow into and kiss her freezing palms, which only descended into more kissing…mouth kissing. Meanwhile, their stupid pug kept destroying the round snow mounds that they managed to construct by jumping into them and rolling around happily. Elain’s boots were soaked through as well, so by the time Azriel finally managed to roll a decent base, he had to give his girl a piggyback ride, because she was freezing and shaking, while laughing uproariously. She was also filming his work on her phone, while Piglet hopped around them, trying to understand what was happening. Hanging precariously off Azriel’s back, Elain finally managed to roll a decent-enough ball, which they hefted together and carefully placed on top of the other ball. 

“Pink, we need a stick,” Azriel instructed, and Piglet took off before Azriel even finished talking.

“Whoa,” he breathed, as Elain laughed, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her lips constantly making contact with his face. “I guess he really wanted that stick.”

Piglet returned with a stick, tossed it to Azriel, who fashioned one arm out of it, before sending the pug to fetch another. Soon their snowman had two arms, a couple of coins for eyes, and then, with great fanfare, Elain pushed the carrot into the head. 

She barely managed to take a few photos and a short video for Piglet’s Insta account, before he began to circle the snowman curiously, barking and growling at it, and then attacking it viciously.

“Why are you so mean?!” Elain cried. “You are supposed to be gentle with it! Don’t eat it!”

Oh yeah, he was gonna eat it. 

Piglet savagely munched on pieces of the snowman, licking and pulling clumps of snow, smacking his lips. 

“Fucking animal,” Azriel laughed, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Elain. “Are you cold?”

“I am,” she nodded. “But I don’t want to go back inside. This is so much fun!”

“Yeah? What else is fun?” he teased.

She drew her knuckles over his cheek, his now-wet hair and then stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cold mouth. He didn’t have to be asked twice and quickly took over, capturing her sweet mouth with his and eagerly coaxing her plump, buttery-scented lips apart. She whimpered against him, especially when his hands boldly slid to cup the curve of her behind, slipping beneath the coat and making her shiver from the cold. She didn’t care. She sighed warmly and deliciously into his mouth and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her cold, wet fingers tangling in his hair. Caressing his tongue with her own she opened up eagerly to the kiss, and Azriel responded in kind, deepening the caress of his tongue, kissing her filthy and hot, his lips both teasing, and dominating at once. It was dirty and open-mouthed, her kisses loud and maddeningly sticky, rendering his brain to almost naught–all he saw and felt was his gorgeous girl, finally, nearly all his.

Elain moaned against him and Azriel…pulled away abruptly and yelled, “Piglet! The fuck, you weirdo?!”

Elain turned around and gasped in shock, not knowing whether to scream, cry or laugh. So she did all three–laughing so hard, that tears sprung in her eyes.

Because Piglet burrowed into the snowman and successfully pulled out the carrot, which he was now crunching on, though it looked like he was making out with the snowman.

“Dr. Hannibal Piglet Lecter,” Azriel muttered. “Fucking savage pug.” 

Azriel grabbed her phone and filmed the carnage.

From Piglet's Instagram: The carrot is no more

“This should pay for his upkeep for a month,” he said, knowing that the video will garner a million likes and comments. 

Gripping the half-eaten carrot in his mouth Piglet rushed to them and demanded that Azriel pick him up. 

“That’s it? You just give up?” Azriel laughed, as he grabbed the dog and pulled Elain closer to him.

When they returned to the house, the first thing they were greeted by was Nesta and Cassian, glaring at them and arms crossed on their chests.

“We saw you making out!” Cassian declared like he was Mother Superior at a convent.

“Guess the two of you failed as chaperones!” Azriel shrugged indifferently, while he helped Elain out of her coat.

“We didn’t fail!” Nesta bristled. “You two are out of control!”

Little did she know.

-

The next day

Dev arrived around 11:30 am. He hadn’t asked Azriel this yet, but he had wondered where Azriel planned to live once he and Elain got married. Elain’s house made much more sense for a family, not to mention that her office was here as well. But if Azriel was going to move here, Dev needed to consider where he was going to move as well. Russell Square, Holborn, Fitzrovia were really out of his budget. Azriel paid well, but these were some prime locations, and he’d have to rob a bank to afford something nice. Shame that he wasn’t a footballer who grew up with a billionaire duke, or a little heiress who inherited a damn mansion just because. Considering her sister’s place last night, Dev definitely thought that it was better to be born wealthy and healthy, than poor and ill. 

The pug came out first, dressed in a full on morning suit, with a pale blue silk tie no less. He barked his greeting and headed for the car.

“Shake?” Dev asked, extending his hand. Piglet gave him his paw. Then Elain and Azriel came out of the house, holding hands like teenagers. No doubt about it, his old mate Azriel Night, the quiet, scarred boy whom Dev met in a group home when they were around eleven was in love. Azriel, who didn’t say much, leaving the talking to his rambunctious brother Cassian, but who possessed incredible speed, the ability to appear and disappear like a ghost, and a mean left hook that could fall even a grown man in a few seconds–that Azriel was now all grown up. And Dev was proud of him. Azriel deserved something good in his life. Something nice. Something pure and genuine. And this sweet little matchmaker of his, this fancy noble Lady and her posh pug somehow, amazingly, fit the bill.

Azriel opened the car door for Elain, and just as she climbed inside, he slapped her arse.

“I am a gentleman, baby,” he announced. “Always a man, not always gentle.”

“You can’t be like this in front of my father!” she warned.

“Oh, meeting the family?” Dev chuckled. “You ready for that, big man?”

“I’d have to meet him one day,” Azriel shrugged. “Guess today is the day.”

“So, where to? Kensington Palace? Buckingham?” Dev joked. Would he be terribly surprised of Elain said ‘yes’? not really. 

“Mayfair,” she said. “Mount St.”

Of course. Dev wasn’t even surprised. An ultra posh street with Balenciaga, Rubinacci and exclusive jewellery stores, a caviar and champagne restaurant Scott’s, as well as the luxury Connaught hotel where basic rooms went for 1,000 quid a night. 

“We usually go to Annabel’s for all of our birthdays,” Elain explained, and both Azriel and Dev shook their heads. 

“Let me guess. Dad is a member?” Azriel chuckled. Annabel’s was an elegant private club with a dance floor for the famous, the dressed-up and the well-heeled.

Elain pursed her lips, indicating that he was. 

“So why not today?”

“Feyre texted and said that we should go to dad’s,” Elain said. “Said to bring you,”

“Oh boy. I am getting somewhat nervous,” he joked, but Dev, who knew Azriel for a long, long time, noticed a note of worry in his friend’s voice. Azriel was all jokes and nonchalance and elegant swagger, but he was going to meet the father of the girl he loved. And that meant something. It was important.

It wasn’t a long drive and Dev soon parked next to a massive, three story Edwardian mansion. It was red brick with white trim and actual columns. Piglet barked excitedly, recognising the place. 

“You’re going to go see grandpa?” Elain asked, stroking his head. Piglet barked again, raring to go.

“Whenever I have to leave him with my father–especially if I go on a holiday–I come back, and it’s basically ‘I shall require organic vegetables three times a day with freshly churned butter. A pup cup of the finest double cream delivered daily and milked from a prized cow in Oxfordshire. For dinner, I shall dine on a lightly seared steak, a bit of duck confit and a brioche toast. Oh, and a couple of mini cannoli straight from Naples’.”

“Somehow, I am not even a little bit surprised,” Azriel admitted and Dev nodded in agreement. 

“The level of spoiling that he receives from my father is criminal.”

Azriel told himself that he was not nervous, when Elain took his arm, and they walked under the portico, the doors opening as if by magic.

There was a butler, who greeted them and called Elain ‘Lady Elain’. They walked through wide marble hallways and sitting rooms, Azriel feeling decidedly out of place even if he wouldn’t show it. Piglet tore through the house, howling happily, unconcerned about anything, and by the time they saw him next, it was in the dining room where a middle-aged gentleman was cooing and hugging the pug, rocking him like he was a baby. 

To Azriel’s surprise, Nesta was here too, but also Cassian–which was unexpected, to say the least. Cassian raised his shoulders, indicating that he had no idea why he was here, though it didn’t look like he was greatly burdened by the company. 

“Daddy!” Elain went to her father and he smiled at her. 

“Good morning, pumpkin,”

Pumpkin? That made Azriel smile. But the nickname fit. She was his little pumpkin.

“Please meet Mr. Azriel Night,” Elain introduced them. “My father, Sir Charles Archeron.”

“Arsenal captain,” the older man nodded knowingly. “My girls are Tottenham fans. I am an Arsenal man myself. Though I do enjoy rugby a lot as well.”

“I am slowly pulling Elain and Piglet to my side,” Azriel teased. 

“Oh, I saw all the photos on that Instagram that Elain has for the pup. He looked like a Gunner born and bred.”

Azriel laughed, “You follow him too?”

“How can I not,” he squeezed Piglet lovingly. “Barring my girls giving me actual grandchildren, this is so far, my only grand-pup,” he said dramatically.

Nesta rolled her eyes. Elain rolled her eyes.

And both groaned.

“This is what happens every time I mention grandchildren,” Mr. Archeron complained.

Just as he said the words, Rhys entered the room, holding a champagne flute, with Feyre on his arm. 

“Oh, you’ve arrived!” Feyre exclaimed with a wide smile. “I was just showing Rhys around.”

“Why are we all here, by the way?” Nesta asked impatiently. “I was looking forward to Annabel’s.”

“Forgive the change of plans,” Rhysand said breezily. “We’ll be sure to go to Annabel’s soon.”

“Well then, what is it?” Nesta sipped her mimosa, while silent servants circulated around the room with trays of champagne. “We are all here now.”

“I am curious myself,” Mr. Archeron agreed, while he gave Piglet a piece of cheese. “And I am pleasantly surprised to see my three daughters with such fine gentlemen. All here together, today.”

Nesta was about to protest the implication that she was here with Cassian, but Cassian put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, effectively quieting her down.

Rhysand and Feyre exchanged a glance, and then he said,

“Feyre and I got married earlier today. She is now Marchioness Feyre Archeron-Darling, Lady Darling. My wife.”

[melodramaticatheart]

Do You Want To Get In Trouble? - Xander x Max

word count: 756

book: tig series

ship: Xander Hawthorne x Max Liu

“Xander will you stop looking at me like that for the love of god” Max wasn’t asking Xander she was ordering him, Max had somehow gotten some blizzard in her hair and the boy couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “How am I looking at you?” He asks knowing the answer. His brothers had often pointed out that when he looked at Max it was like seeing a puppy in love. Xander stated that it was most likely untrue but deep down he knew they were right. Max had grown to be his comfort person, the one he could share everything with, even in the middle of the night when an idea sprung to his head she was always ready to listen, always matching his energy. He scrambled for a napkin somewhere in the Dairy Queen bag. “Y’know I must thank you for helping me experience my first official blizzard,” Xander said, finally finding a napkin and handing it to her. “I can’t believe you’ve never had one, it really makes you think maybe growing up rich isn’t so great,” Max said with a crooked smile, finally getting all the ice cream out of her hair. “Let’s get out of here and do something fun” She suggested once a moment of silently staring at the parking lot passed. “What you wanna do?” Xander said starting up the car they stole from one of Oren’s men. They weren’t even supposed to be out of the house but the fall semester was starting soon and neither of them would see the other till Christmas. Sneaking out was the only way they could get away from all the nerves at the Hawthorne Manor. The games were starting in three months and the energy was palpable. “Let’s give your brothers a heart attack.” Max smiled evilly, he could already see an idea brewing. Max kissed Xander pulling away with mischievous eyes.

“Do you wanna get in trouble with me, Xander Hawthorne?” 

“I thought you’d never ask”

Thirty minutes later they had flower seeds, a shovel and dirt in the trunk of the car. Xander and Max’s idea of trouble was actually not bad at all, just illegal. They decided they would plant peonies so when the school year ended they could come back and see how they’d grown. They both chose where they wanted the flowers and started working. It wasn’t until Max and Xander were doubled over laughing at a joke that they noticed a police officer pulling up in a golf cart. The man couldn’t be older than forty, he held up a flashlight and asked for them to identify themselves, they stumbled up still laughing when they said their names “Uh I’m Maxine Liu, and he’s Alexander Hawthorne.” Max said, looking absolutely delighted at the use of Xander’s full name. “Ok well if you don’t know, what you’re doing is illegal and I need to write you guys a fine.” The officer stepped closer looking at the dirt on the kids' jeans. He took out a notepad and gave Xander a paper. “I need you both to leave now, or I will need to take you to the station.” The officer explained “Yes,” Xander looked closer at the sir’s name badge “Yes, Officer Koplan.” He repeated already picking up the empty packet of flower seed packets and Max picking up the small shovel. “You kids stay out of trouble for the rest of the night, you hear me?” The officer's accent was thicker now as he yelled after Max and Xander. 

When both of them got back to the Hawthorne house they did not expect Jameson and Avery to be having a cup of coffee at nearly one in the morning. “Max, Xander, what were you guys doing out at this hour?!” Avery said her eyes widening when she saw the shovel “We promise we didn’t kill anyone.” Max said grinning “We just got fined for being so funny and attractive.” Xander said getting the shovel from Max’s hand. Jameson was trying hard not to laugh. “How about I accompany you with taking the shovel back outside,” Jameson said clearly wanting to get away from the conversation he and Avery were having. 

Once the boys were outside, Avery and Max just stared at each other till Max was looking down trying to cover her smile. “Man, you guys really like each other,” Avery said putting her hands in her jean pockets. 

“Shut up.”  But the only thing both girls could do was grin at each other.

⊹‿︵‿୨ི୧‿︵‿⊹

requested by @s-rosie

wasnt gonna post but @art-of-fools held me at gun point

[clovermarigold]

Some fun little intro interactions

Based on my series Smoke & Ice

heads up, some have more lines than others

Liu Kang

Liu Kang: I am truly sorry for your loss

Calla: And yet you did nothing to prevent it

~~~

Liu Kang: I had nothing to do with the megáli fotiá

Calla (sarcastic): The God of Fire played no role in the burning of the old grove?

~~~

(After act 1)

Calla: Did you have to choose Johnny?

Liu Kang: His flaws aren't without their strengths. But yes, I understand your pain

~~~

Smoke: Wait, did you plan this?

Liu Kang: I merely set the return of the Hamadryad into motion. Your coupling was entirely of your own will

Bi han

Raiden: It is not shameful to admit that--

Bi han: Do not finish that sentence

~~~

Kuai Liang: Johnny tells me you have taken interest with the Matron

Bi han: That man is a fool

~~~

Bi han: Your treatment of your subjects is far too lenient

Calla: I will discipline Miche as I see fit

~~~

Calla (Laughing): You have no idea how to handle children do you?

Bi han: Is my harassment amusing to you?!

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Calla: You and your Lin Kuei are no longer welcome here, Bi han

Bi han: you once said the same thing when we first met

~~~

Calla: Return Miche to me!

Bi han: Not until the Hamadryad submit to the Lin Kuei

Johnny Cage

Johhny: Twenty bucks Calla gets with Bi han

Kenshi: Are you seriously suggesting we gamble on their relationship?

~~~

Kenshi: Thirty dollars she prefers Tomas

Johhny: A man after my own heart

~~~

Calla: What's this I hear about you betting on my love life

Johnny: Don't get mad! But I lost ten dollars

~~~

Kung Lao: You've really pissed off Kenshi this time

Johnny: He's into me and he knows it

~~~

Kenshi: Bet you're really missing your mansion now

Johnny: You kidding? I'd kill for a hot bath and a real bed

Smoke

Calla: Miche has taken quite the liking to you

Smoke: He is quite talented. With training he will make a fine Hamadryad

~~~

Johnny: You know we all saw you eying up Calla at the Banquet

Smoke: I wasn't too obvious, was I?

~~~

Calla: How was your history lesson with Miche?

Smoke: He spent over an hour explaining Dryadian adoption culture.

~~~

Smoke: How would you feel about being an uncle?

Kuai Liang: I take it the Dryad boy has grown on you

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Calla: Bi han is the last person I will allow to stab me in the back

Smoke: Know that my loyalty to you will never falter

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang: My brothers think fondly of you

Calla: oh... um. And I them

~~~

Calla: Your Harumi is truly a remarkable woman

Kuai Liang: I could not have asked for a better partner

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Kuai Liang: How could you betray your own clan? Calla?

Bi han: I do what I must for the Lin Kuei

~~~

Calla: I want him back!

Kuai Liang: We will find him. Bi han couldn't have taken him far

~~~

Kuai Liang: I look forward to calling you sister

Calla: So forward, Kuai Liang. Did Tomas put you up to this

~~~

Kuai Liang: You have chosen a wonderful partner, brother

Smoke: I could ask for nothing else

[majesticwren]

here we go with part III. It's 12k of unhinged feral energy; be advised, this entire project is done solely for my pleasure, I am indulging myself so much with this. I just needed to write will and fletch and had to create this stuff. the angst that it carries (because yes there will be more coming - I am very good very evil) it's the energy I crave please don't come for me and trust the process I'll feed you smut. I am planning shit loads of fluff too but it will be a rollercoaster overall. it is edited but not proofread. enjoy. a/n: hi :) me again back at it. I didn't like the first draft of this so I finally went back in and made it a little extra poly/gay with some more chemistry between kyle and will because I needed it. thank you bye 💕

trigger warning/s: angst angst angst, poly relationship dynamics, reference to sex, reference to threesome, shit loads of misunderstandings and miscommunication, swearing, jealousy and mild possessiveness, OFC is unhinged and is her own trigger warning - she can't deal with her healthy relationship and leaps into self destruction, smut!, threesome, unprotected sex (kids, know your sexed! this is not an example is a fanfic use your condoms) daddy and praise kinks, chocking, dirty talk, binding, kyle is very dom and will likes to be called daddy but he is also a sub in here, don't come for me

<- part I | <- Part II prequel part I -> | part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

The party was proceeding. She couldn’t say it was going well, but it was going. The two-dozen people they invited were enjoying themselves at least. They were mostly Mark’s friends, which included old colleagues from RevPro and a few other people they got to know in the years they lived in the city, plus a handful of Erika and Kyle’s friends, just for variety. Food and drinks served. Music and chattering filled the room as people gathered and mingled. On the surface, everything seemed good. 

It did feel like the longest time of her life though.

When Kyle and Mark arrived, she felt able to breathe for the first time. Grateful, mostly for the unaware support their arrival granted her, Erika leaped into her brother’s arms, clinging onto his solar, happy energy and protection to feel shielded.

Everything was fine, she kept reminding herself.

“I am so happy to see you,” she whispered into Mark’s ear as he lifted her up, bear hugging her. 

“I missed you too, little menace,” he chuckled. “Let me look at ya’,” Mark handled her like she weighed nothing, lifting her so he could look at her face, “Yep, still the same little gremlin.”

Erika hugged him some more, finding refuge into his chest. “You gotta tell me all about the news from back home,”

“Ah, you know, always the usual. Mum misses you so much, she cried a lot. It’s kinda hard to watch sometimes. Dad on the other side is unaware as usual. He has finished building the shed though!”

“Are you joking!? You mean the shed?” 

Mark nodded as a massive smile nested on his lips. “Oh, yes, baby. Fucking mental.”

“I knew early retirement would have done him good!”

“God,” Mark chuckled, “Brace yourself because now he needs a new project.”

“Oh, god,” she chuckled with him. 

Erika knew seeing Mark was everything she needed to feel better. Saying she had missed him wasn’t enough. She could already feel herself healing inside. Her pain wasn’t disappearing, but there was a light that was shining in her now. Mark was always able to pick her up in a way not even Kyle could. Her brother had always been her biggest support system and best friend. But he was more than that. He saw her growing up. Helped her through her lowest and loved her regardless, even when others had given up on her. He was the part of her family she couldn’t bear to live apart.

“Listen, listen, I’ve got a good one for you.” Continued Mark, excitement glimmering through his eyes. He was clearly equally happy to see her. “Auntie Janice has a thirty-two-year boyfriend. Which is weird. I’ve met him. Nice bloke. But he’s basically my age so, weird.”

“Ugh,” she shivered, trying to shake off the repulsive thought of her aunt in a relationship with a guy half her age. “She is mental.”

“Firecracker,” Mark chuckled, “Oh and Virna got married.”

“Virna? Your high school sweetheart and my babysitter Virna?”

“Yes.”

“The crazy Virna that still tries to hook up with you any time you are back home?”

“That’s the one!”

“Did you go break her heart?” Erika wondered pocking his cheek only causing Mark to melt in a loud burst of laughter.

“Of course I did, gotta keep up our family tradition of stealing hearts. Fucked her and then her husband-to-be,” Mark smiled all proud and unashamed, only causing her to shake her head.

“And you call me a menace, Mr?”

Mark was still laughing wholeheartedly as he put her down, to which point it was Kyle’s turn to pull her into a hug she didn’t refuse. She nuzzled into his chest, magnetically attracted to him. Erika inhaled his scent deep into her lungs, wishing she could travel in the future, to when everyone would be gone and she could find soothe in his arms.

“I am sorry for before,” he whispered to her ear before kissing her forehead. 

Erika shook her head sliding her arms around his waist, looking for contact in a way that was more than habit, by now. It was natural. “Don’t be. I am sorry.”

Kyle looked down into her eyes, cupping her face into his palms. His touch was soft and warm. He didn’t only pick up her gaze, but her entire spirit too. He studied her features with a gentle smile curling his full lips, “I love you.” He reminded her, “and you look beautiful,”

“Thank you, you are not bad either” she melted into a smile looking him up and down, “I love you too.” She then said, popping up on her tippytoes to kiss him.

“Everything ok?” He wondered after, checking the place out.

Erika nodded, lying, pushing all that had happened in the back of her mind. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Kyle answered looking for Will, who was taking his time to welcome Mark with a big hug and heavy pats on the back. “Welcome home, bruv. ‘Was starting missing you ‘round here.”

“I’m so back, mate. How the hell are you?”

Erika did her best to ignore their conversation. It was so difficult for her to hate Will when he was so affectionate with her brother. Or with Kyle.

After that, Erika spent most of her time hanging around Mark but would leave anytime Will approached them, granting him the chance to spend time with his best friend. She did the same thing when it was about Kyle, leaving him to have some fun with Mark and Will and just mingling with the rest of their friends. 

But she should have assumed she wouldn’t have been allowed to hide for long.

“What’s happening between you and Will?” Wondered suddenly Mark as she went for a refill on her wine. Surprisingly, she hadn’t given into the booze. But she did sip on some wine to grant her some liquid courage to survive the evening.

Erika choked and cleared her voice, looking up at her brother. “What do you mean?” She tried to play coy, smiling at the catering attendant who served her.

Mark read right through her pretending and whipped a wise smile, taking the piss out of her. “What would I ever mean!?” He wondered jokingly, “Do you think I was born yesterday, little one?”

Erika huffed and, taking a sip of her wine, she looked through the room, directly searching for Will. He was chatting to Kyle and a couple of her friends about something. They laughed. Will grabbed Kyle by the nape of the neck and pulled him under his arm, showing him off. They both had such a big smile printed on their faces, glimmering eyes and blushed cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat.

It was so unfair.

I wish l never met you.

Her own terrible words echoed into her mind, making her cringe to the thought of what their reality had become.

She was the extra piece. She was the sore, exposed nerve that didn’t work. Will had no problem with either Kyle or Mark and if she dared to explain what was happening between them, she was terrified of the consequences for the trio.

“Nothing.” She looked back, shrugging, “We just didn’t see eye to eye on something.”

“And for that reason, you aren’t talking or sharing the same square meter of space?”

“Yep.”

Mark lowered himself to her heigh and studied her features closely. “Nah. Don’t believe you. What did you disagree about?”

“The canapés.” She lied, pulling a kiss-ass smile. Mark read right through her, might as well not even try to make up a good lie. 

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, “I don’t believe you for a second.”

Erika pointed at herself and her big glass of white wine. “Do I look like someone who wants to talk about the only person I am avoiding at the party?”

“Oh, so you are avoiding him,” Mark looked back at Will, this time his curiosity was undeniable, whereas, for her, she had nothing but melancholy when she looked at him. 

This time, as if she had called him, Will was looking in their direction. They made eye contact. Erika didn’t look back, she challenged him raising her chin. He was going to be the one looking down if he so despised her. Though Will didn’t. 

Mark replied with something else but she wasn’t listening anymore.

Time slowed down while she was hooked on Will’s gaze and wasn’t able to let go. For only a moment, she thought she had seen the spark of interest in his eyes. But she was sure she was imagining things; it was gone in a heartbeat. Still, he didn’t look away either.

He smiled at one of the two girls. She had her hand on his bicep and was laughing at something he had said. Will leaned in, saying something into her ear. His gaze didn’t move from Erika's.

She had never been the jealous type. Never once in her life. But she was now. 

“That sure looks like nothing, dude,” Mark poked her, thought this time he wasn’t amused but puzzled. Erika quickly looked back up at him but he was busy scrutinising Will’s behaviour. “What’s going on, Erika?”

“Everyone’s favourite question,” she smiled sarcastically behind the rim of her glass, taking a sip of wine. “We argued. End of story. Let it go Mark.”

She should have known Mark wouldn’t have let it go, for the life of her. He was only able to fix things. Especially when it involved her. He was the protector, and knowing something was wrong wasn’t something he could ignore, ever. But he at least accepted her request momentarily. 

“Wanna do shots and then dig into those mini sausage rolls?” He offered instead. 

“Hell yeah, let’s see if I can still beat you at not making faces as I down straight vodka.”

“You are on, I’ve trained for this moment,” Mark rubbed his hands together.

“C’mon old man,” she giggled.

It was nice. Pleasant. For a little while, she allowed herself to celebrate her brother without thinking about the rest. 

They took two shots of vodka each and then proceeded to down countless tiny sausage rolls each, all the while Mark was ready to fill her up with stories from home. 

Maybe, if the evening had continued that way, she thought she’d be able to make it, after all. Sounded nice. Not the win she wanted but a win all the same.

“You should really consider popping back home as soon as your schedule clears,”

“I wish,” she huffed, “I’ve got back-to-back events from now to September with AEW, RevPro and Japan. Summer season is always busy.”

“Ok,” Mark nodded, “you do not have to take a month's break like I did. Japan is an awful close home if you want to pop down for a couple of days. Everyone would love to see you.”

She felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea. She loved her family, there were many reasons why she was grateful to them. But she was also a very different person now from the girl she was at nineteen when she left Australia. She didn’t like going back because it often reminded her about all the wrong she had done and everything she had messed up and missed because she was a difficult teenager.

Just like he could read her mind, Mark patted her back affectionately, “I know, I am sorry. I had to say it. Mum would love to see you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I don’t know how to carry myself with pride around there. Here or while I work it’s different. But back home?”

“Back home you are one of the most famous people they’d know! Your name has been published, and the pictures you take are in magazines and on many companies’ socials and promos. There’s nothing you need to be ashamed of anymore.”

“Ah, on that I disagree.” Erika leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder, releasing a small huff, “But you are right. Maybe as soon as Kyle can take a couple of days off too.”

“Sure you want to bring him home with you?”

“Yeah? Why?” She suspiciously looked up at her brother, “They’ve known and loved Kyle for ages! What do you know I don’t?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tapped his fingers on his chin. “Although mum wants grandchildren so expect the conversation from her.”

Erika chuckled and threw a soft punch at his shoulder, shaking her head. “You are unbelievable! Why do I have to have this conversation? I’m only a little girl! Look at you, thirty-two, strong, handsome famous and still a scoundrel.”

“Which is why the pressure is on you. You and Kyle have been together what? Five years now?”

“And we love our childless life, thank you.”

Mark raised his hands in the air, trying his best to appear as innocent as possible. “Hey, I am just the messenger. Talk to your mother. When she started this conversation with me, I yanked out of that place as fast as I could.”

“Fuck me,” she chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose, “that woman never changes.” 

She hadn’t felt as light-hearted in a long time. Mark brought peace to her even then when she thought she was going to drown. Which was the main reason why, when they got interrupted, she wasn’t all that happy. She wished she could have just spent the rest of the event chatting with her brother, but she was aware that it would have been selfish and defeated the purpose of a social event.

Erika had felt her friend’s attention even before she said anything to her and immediately turned to her, pushing out a forced smile. The fact that she was the one who was standing a little too close to Will some time ago didn’t have anything to do with her sudden change of mood, of course.

“Hey bestie,” Beth’s smile was wide and full of promises and expectations. Her cheeks were blushed, she looked like she just come from a day at the beach. She was a pretty girl, talented too, they had met at the gym some months ago and took the habit of going out for a meal every now and then when Erika was back in London. Erika had always liked her enough, up to that very moment. “Hey Mark,” Beth chirped, “good to see you, how was Australia?”

“Good, thank you, but I am glad to be back.” Mark’s attention slid back on Erika, “I’ll leave you to it,” he said leaning to kiss her forehead fondly, “Just see not to cause trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” when he slipped away, Erika turned to Beth doing everything in her power to appear as friendly as possible. 

She wasn’t even mad at her. She couldn’t be. She understood. Will attracted people, he had a talent like that, once you were in his orbit you couldn’t get out, he was a true star. If anything, she was even more upset at him because he had so much power over her to make her childish and jealous.

“Hey,” Erika pushed her thought in the back of her mind, “you ok?”

“Yes, thank you. Just wanted to say this is such a nice party, you always manage to get the best atmosphere!”

“Thanks, I think the people we invite are the ones who are the best at that,” 

“Amen,” Beth chuckled. “So, uh, this is a little embarrassing but I have a very quick question for you.”

“Shoot,” Erika nodded. 

“So, you know how I just recently got back being single, yeah?” Erika was already rolling her eyes before Beth could finish her sentence. “And I mean, he looks like a very good saddle to hop back on,” Beth giggled, looking back at Will. 

Erika bit her tongue.

She didn’t want to be mean. She had no right to be. Not one bit. But at the same time, there was a prime need taking over her that made her wish she could tackle the girl and slam her right through the little coffee table by their side. But then again, Erika put herself back into perspective and found herself being more aggressively angry at Will than anything else. He had no right to destabilising her that much and then just leave here there able to do nothing but just look at him from afar. 

It wasn’t Beth's fault, again, she understood. She was the first who fell into Will’s charm. And still, even when she had all the tools to make the right, thought-through decision, Erika still opted for confrontation. 

“So?”

“Well, he’s your friend, right?”

“He is. And if you expect me to put a good word in for you, you are a bit out of the way after you called him a saddle to ride.” 

Beth frowned, “I was obviously joking.” Erika knew that was bullshit. Beth paused and took a sip of her wine, immediately forgetting any reason to possibly be upset, “Anyways, is he single?”

Even though she didn’t want to, Erika felt obliged to tell the truth. She had no right even thinking she could do otherwise. “Yes.”

Beth purred, “Great,” 

“I mean, are you going to make a move on him?” Erika wondered damning herself for caring.

“I think he might. It looked like he was flirting earlier. God, I hope so,” Beth sighed, clearly getting lost in a fantasy. They both looked back at Will, “he looks so pretty and dumb, and at the same time like someone who would unapologetically fuck you stupid.”

Erika wondered when it happened that Beth thought she had all that freedom with her. Maybe she thought that because they were both girls and Erika was in a stable relationship with someone like Kyle then she was free to say the worse and still have her support. How wrong she was.

However, before Erika could say anything, she got lost watching Will interact with Kyle and Mark, and she forgot all about the problem at hand. They were talking to each other all holding a bottle of beer. Kyle was the tallest and stood in the middle of the group as his gaze hopped from one to the other of his friends standing at his sides. The seriousness of their faces only made her crave to know what had just been said. 

Mark raised a hand, explaining something and Will disagreed, shaking his head, so Kyle moved and brushed a hand on Will’s chest, trying to reassure the Brit. 

Erika frowned. What were they saying? She wished she could be a lip reader.

Will gaze traced back to her and caught her watching him. Again, she raised her chin up. He looked crossed, like he was ready to have a confrontation, thought she would bet money she had a bigger pride than his. If he had a problem with her looking at him, he could have just left her house.

Kyle and Mark too looked back at her. Mark kept being puzzled, he was studying the situation more than anything, trying to get an idea of what was happening, all the while Kyle just seemed defeated. 

Will said something that prompted Kyle to take his arm, calling his attention back to him. They exchanged a few words, and by then Erika could only see the intensity of Kyle’s gaze pouring right into Will’s. Kyle placed a hand on Will’s chest and the other on his face, still looking at him, talking and nodding. It seemed like he was trying to reassure him.

Erika damned herself. And damned Will. 

Everything could have been easy. No one needed to get hurt if only he hadn’t decided to go and be an asshole. And now, hell, how did it get to be that bad?

She didn’t even care about herself and her own disappointment and broken heart. She knew she could suffer and handle it. Kinda. But Kyle? She would have ripped her own arms off before letting anything happen to him. And she knew that sooner or later whatever was corroding her from the inside, splitting her and Will up, would have surfaced and impacted Kyle too. 

It was only a matter of time. 

If she kept lying and not talking to him, he would have only got hurt worse by her own hand. And for what? For her to try and prioritize his friendship with Will and protect the Brit!? But her alternative was much worse. She couldn’t, for the life of her, even think about the possibility of giving him any reason to lose trust in his dearest friend.

Kyle had only one family and it was her and the two men standing by him. He was too precious to be let down in any way by any of them.

Beth was still blubbering about Will, but Erika wasn’t listening anymore by then.

Erika cleared her voice, trying to put her thoughts in order. She crossed her arms, trying to find a way to feel secure when the floor underneath her feet seemed to suddenly disappear. Erika downed her wine, having an interior battle about how wise it would have been to go and get herself another glass. She was already feeling the effects of the booze warming her nerves and slightly slowing up her thought process. Was she really considering drinking more?

Yes. Maybe the answer was getting blackout drunk.

“Sorry,” Erika murmured, stepping back and away from Beth, “I’ll be back.” That being said, she turned over and left her empty wine glass on the kitchen countertop on her way to the door.

She needed to get out of there. She needed some fresh air. To clear her head.

Erika patiently waited at the till as her order was being processed. On the counter, already stuck in an anonymous white plastic bag, there was a bottle of whiskey she didn’t need and a snickers bar. Although her attention wasn’t on those items, she yarned at the tobacco and cigarettes dispenser behind the cashier.

Never like that evening, she had craved a cigarette since she quit smoking and yet that was the sole reason why she entered into the off-licence corner shop. She won on her craving though, opting for booze and chocolate. 

She didn’t even want the whiskey. She only bought it to pretend to have an excuse to leave the party. 

“There we go Miss Erika,” the cashier politely smiled, offering her a plastic bag of goodies. He was a sweet, little man just over middle age. She liked him and it sure wasn’t the first time she or Kyle ran to the corner shop for emergency supplies like booze, snacks, ice cream or cigarettes, when she used to smoke. “You look very pretty tonight, Miss.”

“Thank you, Mr Salim,” Erika smiled politely. She appreciated the compliment, but she also felt slightly uncomfortable. She did look completely out of place in her outfit there. But outside on the street, the air was too chilli for how short her dress was or how much of her skin it revealed.

“You are going to have to invite me to one of your parties one of these days,”

“I will when you decide to take a vacation day!”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head, “then, who’s gonna look after my shop?”

Erika picked up her bag, offering the man a small smile. “Then no party for you, Mr Salim.”

He chuckled some more and then shook a finger at her. “Don’t have too much fun, Miss. And give my best to Mr Kyle,”

“I will. Don’t work too hard Mr Salim, have a good night,” she said as she left.

The time she had spent outside her apartment wasn’t remotely enough for her to feel any better. But she had run out of ideas. She wasn’t ready to go back though, but her options were slim. She could have walked up and down the street a couple of times, freezing to death and looking like she just left a club too drunk to realise she wasn’t wearing a coat. Or, she could have gone back into her building complex and waited patiently on the stairs for some time to go buy. Having her sneakers. 

“Erika!”

She gasped and turned over, startled. Her heart missed a beat, as she looked in the direction the voice came from. She recognised him immediately and wished to be strong enough not to react to him, and yet, she wasn’t. 

“Jesus,” Will bent catching his breath, stopping a moment, before approaching her. He looked concerned. “Where did you go!? We got worried.”

“I-” Erika vaguely pointed at the corner shop, rattling the bag in her hand, as if that could be explanation enough. Then she sent him an inquisitive look. “Did you follow me?”

“Well, yes. You just walked out.”

Erika looked up into his eyes, confronting him. “I thought you were damning the day you met me. Funny that you also run after me.”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Well?” She wondered opening her arms, “I’m right here, go on then. Bet this one can’t be any better than anything you had to say before.”

Will hesitated. He looked at her for a long second, studying her face and the longer he looked, the more puzzled his expression became. “Why are you this mad at me?” He wondered, dropping whatever reason he seemed to have to confront her. His tone was now just sad and soft. “What did I ever do to you to deserve what you are doing?”

Erika scoffed in his face, shaking her head. “What the fuck?” She was smiling dangerously, hovering so close to losing every drop of patience and maturity she had in her, “What am I doing? Let’s hear it.” She didn’t drop anything and went under him as if she was ready to physically take him on. “This better be good Ospreay. Enlighten me.”

“What did you say to your brother?” Will too was quick to heat back up. “For a start.”

“Nothing. What the fuck are you talking about!?”

“Why do I have to justify anything to Mark?” Will pressed on. 

“He’s my brother. I tell him whatever the fuck I want.”

“I have done nothing wrong.” Will plead. “If you dare to put Mark or Kyle against me on a whim of yours, then,”

“Then what, Will?” She snapped, “Are you threatening me?”

He seemed more confused than her. As if her words just made him realise what kind of boundaries he was breaking, Will took a step back, rubbing his hands on his face. “Fuck’s sake,” he murmured, “Just-” when he turned back to her, he looked desperate. His hurt hit her right in the stomach. “Don’t do this. Don’t put them against me. Mark is like a brother. And Kyle-” he chocked, “I love Kyle, you know that.”

He was hurting. She shouldn’t have cared. After everything, she should have ignored him or worse, she should have kept being enraged by his behaviour. And yet, something in her gut stopped her. It was impossible to her the idea of willingly hurting him. 

“Will,” she whispered, hesitating a second before taking a step closer to him. “I would never do that. Don’t you think I know what you guys mean to each other?

“You tell me,”

“Don’t you know me?”

“I don’t know what I know anymore,”

His words hit her deeper than she expected and showed on her face. Her eyes mirrored her pain as she looked right into him, unable to hide it any longer. 

“Why?” She wondered, her voice trembling, “what changed?”

“What do you mean what changed?” His gaze hardened.

Erika was on the verge of tears by then and she had decided she wasn’t going to hide anymore. Fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck her pride. 

“Why did you have sex with me and Kyle if you had to go and make it so awkward after?”

It was like she spoke another language. Will looked at her like she had just stubbed him right in the heart. “I don’t know. At this point, I don’t know why I did it.”

Equally, he hit her right back. 

She felt her chest squeeze, constricted by the freezing cold disappointment of realising she had been mistaken all along. There was no saving anything. No fixing.

“Do you regret it?” She wondered, turning away and catching a tear as soon as she started crying as if that was enough to hide away from him. She didn’t even care to appear pathetic anymore.

“I think I do,” he admitted.

“So, that’s it.” Erika looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She let him see her and ignored how hesitation and doubt kicked in him. “Don’t worry,” she waved her hand, taking a step back, “I was wrong. I made a mistake. I won’t say anything to Mark or Kyle about this.”

It was over.

Now she had to find a way to keep that little amount of pride she had left up high and do everything in her power to find a way to not ruin her relationship with Kyle trying to protect him.

Before she could slip away, Will grabbed her by her shoulders and made her look at him. “Do you know why I regret it?”

She tried to escape him, “Please, Will, I said I’m done. I’ll leave you alone. Why do you have to be so cruel?”

Instead of letting her go, he cupped her face, making her look directly at him. 

Erika wished not to with every inch of her being but his touch was warm and she melted into it. 

“I’m going mad. Why are you crying like this?”

“Because you are a damn bastard,” she didn’t yell, she didn’t fight anymore, “You never noticed how much I liked you before? Do you think I’d invite any random guy to share a bed with me and Kyle?” She shook her head, “This is entirely on me, I understand my mistake. And I am not even upset about hooking up. I am upset because you just shut me out after. I understand why Kyle is more important to you, but seeing how nothing changed between you two and how everything changed with me-”

“You left.” Will simply said. “That morning, you left. I felt awkward with Kyle too as we woke up. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say or do. I wasn’t even sure if I could look at him. We had always been close but clearly never that close. It was a new circumstance for the both of us and you weren’t there,” he cleared his voice, his cheeks blushing, “but it’s pretty easy to sort out stuff between boys.”

“You think I left you!?” Erika paused, looking into his eyes. Something clicked in her mind and she felt like the ground had opened underneath her feet. Now everything that had happened, everything that had been said, suddenly assumed a different light. 

“I assumed,”

“You fucking dumb son of a bitch,” Erika punched his chest with no real intention of hurting him, “You assumed wrong. I thought you left me! I only went for a run because I woke up buzzing with energy and didn’t know where to put it. I felt awkward and scared and I needed time to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Why it meant so much to be with you, for one. And what it could possibly mean for me and Kyle. It doesn’t happen every fucking day I fuck two guys.”

“I-” Will choked through his words, still looking at her like she spoke another language. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why wouldn’t Kyle say anything?”

“Kyle didn’t know!” She gave Will another push but she was ready to fight him if he tried to get away from her, “I haven’t spoken to Kyle in a week. I couldn’t. Anytime he asked questions I’d shush him and fuck him. I knew that if I had told him how I was hurt he’d be crossed at you. I thought it was better this way.”

“Why you didn’t try to reach out?”

“Why didn’t you?” Erika’s words seemed to bring him some sense, to which point she nodded, “Can you blame me?”

“No.”

“And then tonight,” she started, shaking her head, “I thought I’d use the occasion to understand what the fuck happened but we just kept saying more horrible things to each other.”

“I hated to see how happy you looked like nothing mattered. Doing your thing in your little party with all your little friends,” Will bent his lips.

“You were my exact mirror. It looked like you didn’t care,”

“God,” Will pulled her to his chest in a hug she didn’t refuse. Maybe she should have fought a little longer, only to make him understand how much he hurt her, but she couldn’t, she was too tired for that and feeling his welcoming chest under her head, and his warmth surrounding her, was everything she needed.

Her pain was gone. She was still shaken and her pride was still bruised in a way she wasn’t sure she could fix because she now felt like the most stupid person in the world who created a problem and basked in her own grave after she dug it happily. But her chest was free. 

Erika slid an arm around Will’s waist, holding him solidly and pressed her face into his shoulder, letting him hold her tight. He pushed a hand into her hair, cradling her softly. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by what I’ve said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I mean it when I say you are a dumb son of a bitch,” she sniffled, looking up at him. She pulled a timid smile, while drying her tears off her face, hoping her make up wasn’t completely ruined. 

There was a small pause and then Will finally smiled, chuckling at her words. To her, it looked like seeing the sun shining bright in the sky after a long, long time of bad weather. 

“I am an idiot.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Will cupped her face in his hands, taking a moment to enjoy feeling her in his grasp, his smile softened. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

“You better, Billy Goat, or I won’t speak to you ever again.”

He didn’t even let her finish her sentence before he pulled her into a kiss. At first, he only pressed his lips on hers, still slightly uncertain, but as soon as Erika slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, he warmed up completely, closing her in between his arms and deepening their kiss.

Erika purred when their tongues crossed and pushed her hand into his hair, feeling the need to cross her fingers into his curls.

“Never again,” Erika whispered against his lips, “you do not keep secrets from me. When something is wrong, you must talk about it.”

He nodded, pecking at her lips. “Yes, ma’am. I think you need to talk to Kyle now.”

“Yes,” she released a sad huff, “I feel so sorry. I didn’t mean to shut him out. Neither of you.”

“He’ll understand. He’s Kyle.” Will pulled a confident smile Erika couldn’t keep herself from kissing. 

“Will you stay tonight?” 

“If you want me to.”

“Please,” she pulled him into another heated kiss. Only the thought of having both him and Kyle to herself was enough to make her brain stop working completely.

Will let go of her only to press his forehead on hers, inhaling a deep, peaceful breath. 

“What’s in the bag?” He wondered sliding his hand over her arm and hooking his fingers onto the plastic bag.

“Just a snicker bar and some whiskey. I needed an excuse to leave. And I needed an excuse not to get a packet of cigarettes.”

Will took the bag off her hold as if it was something that weighed too much for her and then slid a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her under his side, and rubbing his hand over her. “Let’s get you inside.” Will softly kissed her temple.

“Okay,” Erika smiled, leaning against him and resting her hand on his chest, unable to let go. 

They rode the elevator in silence, just hugging, enjoying that moment of peace and then walked hand in hand back to the flat, although Erika stopped him a moment before he could go back in. 

She giggled as she pushed him against the wall. 

“Someone could see us,” he whispered not at all refusing her.

Erika tapped her fingers on his chest, tracing them up his neck and chin. “I don’t care.” She whispered pulling him into a kiss. “Did you know you made a conquest at the party?”

“Did I?” Will closed his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, widening his strong thighs so she could stand in between his legs.

“Mh,” she did to kiss him and then moved away last minute, making him want it. “My friend Beth said you have the look of a pretty, dumb guy who’d fuck you stupid.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “she isn’t wrong.”

Erika pulled him by the chin, brushing her lips against his. Tasting his breath on her tongue made her stomach vibrate and melt into a warm feeling that slid down into her abdomen. “I’ve never been so jealous in my life.” She teased. “I wanted to put her through a table.”

“I would have paid money to see that.” Will switched position, pushing her against the wall, trapping her lips into a kiss and pressing his body against hers. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Just saying,” she smiled, “that’s the expectation around here.”

“Yours?” Erika purred, answering to him with another kiss. Will smiled against her lips, nodding. “Noted.” He then pushed his face into her neck, assaulting her sensitive skin. “I could start now,” Will rested the plastic bag on the floor and then his hands ran quickly to her naked legs, reaching for the helm of her dress, “would you like that, love?”

His coarse voice vibrated low right through her skin sending a shiver down her spine. It was inebriating. They had been together only once and yet she had missed him like it had been a lifetime.

Erika stretched and bent underneath him, her hands trailing across his chest and shoulders, avidly feeling the edge of his muscles under her palms. She was eager to feel him move under her touch, craving to have him naked only so she could watch him move for her. She bit her lips shut, trying her hardest to suffocate a whimper, already struggling to keep quiet and he was barely stroking her legs. 

“This,” Will pointed out as his fingers followed the edge of her dress, “is a very tiny dress, love,” he pressed his smile just under her chin. “It was so hard being around you all night, it was.” Just like he had a point to make, Will’s hands traced up her body, following the edges of her dress cutting a low neckline across her stomach. He toyed with the thin golden chains that kept it together. “wanted me and Kyle to become madmen, didn’t you?” he teased looking down at her.

“I wore it for you,” she looked at him only pretending to be all innocent, biting her lower lip. 

“You are such a cheeky little tease, you are,” Will leaned in for a kiss. 

She would have lied if she said she cared in the slightest about being in her very public floor corridor, where everyone could walk by and see she was unashamedly making out with someone who wasn’t her boyfriend. But, besides her pressing desire to forget everything about their misunderstanding and just get lost in Will’s arms, Erika still pressed a hand on his chest. 

She huffed, trying to get a hold of her thoughts. “Hold on,” she pushed in the middle of his chest with more conviction, not because she didn’t think that he would stop at her words, but because she needed something to hold onto. And she needed air. She couldn’t think straight when her senses where so overwhelmed by him. “We need to talk to Kyle.”

Will’s gaze was soft as he crossed her face. He leaned his head to the side and raised a hand to her jaw, tracing it to her chin. “Yes.”

Erika raised her chin, looking at him right in the eye. “I know we have lots more to talk about to understand what this thing is,” she pointed between them, “but I do not want only sex from you.” She felt her cheeks blush and her heart pitter-patter in her chest as emotions flew across her. She wasn’t the shy type, never was. And hell, if she would have let misunderstanding get in the way of her and her happiness again. “Just so we are clear.”

“No?” Will pecked her lips softly, not hiding a big dumb smile curling on his lips. “And what is it that you’d like? Tell me, love.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want you to fuck me stupid.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled.

“But I think I’d like to try and date you.”

“I am pretty sure I can clear my schedule a little and find some space to take you out.”

Erika nodded, pulling a timid smile. “Do you think Kyle will be on board?”

“Considering he’d jump off a building for you and the fact that you Australians are fucking mental, I think it’s safe to say he would. Plus,” 

The way Will blushed and his eyes trailed off, as he shied away, made her attention pop. A big, teasing smile grew on her lips as Erika poked his chest. “What was that? What aren’t you telling me, Ospreay?”

“I mean,” he was still avoiding eye contact, hiding behind his stupid smile that made her go insane, “I think I won’t have a problem dating either of you.”

“What are you saying?” She wondered feeling his words sliding right through her and into her stomach, making her feel warm and comforted. She did understand what he meant already but wanted so badly to hear it coming from him.

“I mean, you know, Kyle is very special to me.”

“Is he?” She purred.

“He’s very talented, very kind and very beautiful,” Will pointed out, “Why would I have a problem with that?”

“Are you saying you have a crush on my boyfriend?” She smiled proudly, somehow feeling that information weight right in her belly, making her tremble under her own skin. 

There was something forbidden and tremendously beautiful to the idea that not only Will and Kyle liked her but they could also like each other. She was shaken by the need ok knowing, of seeing it happen. 

She had known them both a very long time and witnessed years of flirting, but always assumed it was innocent playing around. She would lie if she said she never fantasised about it. Actually, that was at the very core of her threesome fantasies, honestly, but never before she had found a reason to bring it up. Erika settled thinking that was just how things were between them. They all did it with each other. And both Kyle and Will had the same behaviour with Mark. But now she was starting to wonder if something may have been different all along.

“Maybe I do,” Will proceeded, glimmering eyes and rose cheeks popping up under his smile. He tapped his index softly on the tip of her nose, “but you sure are nosy, aren’t you?”

“I am not!” She chuckled, “But I am intrigued.”

“Ah, yeah?” He wondered leaning in for a kiss, “You like the idea that I might like your boy, uh?” he brushed his lips against hers, “does it turn you on, love?”

“God,” Erika exhaled, nodding even before words could come out. She felt her throat seal shut and needed desperately a breath of fresh air just to clear her head because what she was picturing in her thoughts wasn’t only improper, but extremely out of place considering they were supposed to be locked in a room full of people for the rest of the evening. 

Will puffed up his chest with pride and smiled. “You are so very bad, you are.”

Erika pulled him into another kiss with a smile on her lips and then forced herself to push him off herself with a chuckle. She wasn’t ready to go back to the party just yet, and especially when she couldn’t be all over him and her boyfriend, but the voice of reason reminded her they both had been gone a while.

“C’mon handsome, let’s go back before they’ll send a search squad.” 

Will nodded, “As you wish, love.”

As soon as they went through the door, most eyes moved on them. Most were puzzled as the flow of the party slowed. Erika wasn’t bothered by anyone else’s reaction; her attention was only for one person.

She smiled as soon as she made eye contact with Kyle, who looked over to them from the other side of the room, easily peeking above everyone else’s head. He was quick to assert the situation, studying her and Will and then a soft, large smile popped on his lips too as he deduced everything that needed to be said by their respective body language.

Before she could go to him, Erika slipped by the catering people, leaving her miserable bag of excuses on the open kitchen counter. “Don’t worry about this one, ok?” She instructed the girl standing the closest to her, who nodded willingly. “Thank you. You are smashing it,” she then added, showing her appreciation for their job. More would have come into the fat tip they would have left them at the end of the evening. 

The girl pulled a large smile nodding gratefully. “Thank you, ma’am, glad you are enjoying it.”

As Erika turned, she found Will waiting for her. She wished she could have better control over herself, but she still blushed under his eyes, unable to hide her interest. She brushed her hand on his abdomen as she passed him over. “You should mingle, now.”

“Or I could just look at you,” he whispered softly to her ear, “and think about all the things I will do to you once we’ll be alone.”

Erika was crossed by a shiver. “I hate you so much, Billy.”

“No, you don’t.”

She shook her head and had to gather all her strength and control to slip off him. It didn’t matter what she did, he had planted a seed into her mind and now she wasn’t able to think about anything else but what he had said. Her stomach was already trembling in anticipation. God, she was ready to kick everyone out, even her own brother, just to be able to have the rest of the night with him and Kyle already.

Erika managed to leave Will and cross the room, reaching for Kyle’s side. He was talking to a couple of the guys he and Mark met training. As soon as she was close, Kyle pulled her under his arm, dragging her naturally to his side, not losing the flow of his conversation. 

“Hey,” she greeted them wrapping her arms around Kyle’s waist.

She didn’t care too much about their conversation, it was loads of opinions about wrestling technicalities and she didn’t have the focus to get into it.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” She wondered popping her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

“Of course,” Kyle kissed her forehead and then looked over to the other two, “Sorry boys, I’ll get back to you.”

Erika grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the bedroom, seeking some privacy. As they crossed the room, she briefly looked back finding Will sitting with Mark on the sofa, they were clearly having a lively conversation with some other people. When she noticed that Beth was standing there between everyone, listening to whatever Will was saying with interest. Erika couldn’t help herself from whipping out a victorious smile. She was maybe being extremely childish, but knowing what the other girl wanted was ultimately hers fed right into her pride.

Erika found soothe into shutting everyone else behind her back, as she closed the door. The bedroom was nice and quiet, bringing her to release a relieved huff. “God, I feel like this party is going on forever.”

“Do you?” Kyle’s propped her chin up just so he could lean in for a kiss.

Erika immediately melted in his hold. Her hands raced up his arms and around his shoulders, as she took a long moment to enjoy being in his arms. As soon as their tongues crossed, Erika was crossed by another, powerful, hot shiver sliding down her spine and nesting into her abdomen, making her tremble. Kyle’s arms caged her. His hands slid on her body, feeling her curves.

“You,” she started, breaking her kiss, trying to catch her breath, “need to stop right now,”

“Or what, baby?” He backed her up against the wall, a confident smile printed on his lips and laser-focused eyes glimmering at her like the ones of a hungry wolf. 

Erika tried to keep her hands planted in the centre of his chest, keeping him steady, but she wasn’t truly fighting him off as Kyle leaned in looking for her lips again.

“We have guests,” she panted, trying to maintain some sense, unsure what strength was driving her, especially after she had been turned on so much by Will just a moment ago. “We can’t just disappear,”

“I am sure everyone who noticed we slipped away is thinking we are fucking.” 

Erika chuckled, sliding her hands through Kyle’s hair as he traced the line of her jaw. “Believe it or not I didn’t drag you here for a quickie.”

“No?” He sounded genuinely sad about it, “That is not very nice, babe.”

“Pretty please? I need to tell you something and it’s really hard for me to focus when you are all over me.”

“Seems I am still not doing a good job at it,”

“Shut up Fletcher,” she playfully pushed him off her, shaking her head. “When everyone is gone, and especially my brother. You can toy with me as you please.”

“I’ll keep you up on that.” Kyle looked down at her offering a cheeky smile. Then, he backed off, going and sitting on the edge of the bed. “So,” he started looking at her with interest, “you and Will made up?”

“About that,” she started stepping closer, “yes, we did. But before we talk about that I need to apologise.”

“For what, baby?” Kyle pulled her closer to him, making her stand in between his long legs. When he was sat, they were almost the same hight.

Erika rested her arms on his shoulders and tenderly stroked his hair, offering a small, soft but ashamed smile. “I didn’t mean to keep you out.”

“You never have to apologise to me.”

“No,” she pressed on, “I do. Please, be mad at me for once,”

“You want me to be mad?”

“No, I mean, take my apologise like you were.”

“Ok,” Kyle paused to process her words, “so tell me, now,” he looked up into her eyes, “tell me what it is you didn’t tell me all week.”

“I didn’t want to be an inconvenience. I didn’t want my problem to taint your relationship with Will. So, I couldn’t tell you how hurt I was when I found out he just left that morning and then didn’t reach out to me. I realise that if I had said something to you, this situation would have been easily resolved, but I didn’t, so I managed to convince myself Will was ignoring me just as much as he convinced himself about the same thing,”

“First, you will never be an inconvenience to me. Second, you convinced me too. I knew something was off, but because you didn’t say a word about Will, I understood it the other way around.”

“Like?”

“Like you wanted to forget that night. Which is why I didn’t bring it up ever again. Until today. I started to suspect I misunderstood just today.”

“I am sorry,” Erika shook her head, “I feel so stupid. This could have ended so badly.” Her breath was suddenly shaken as she looked away. “I know how much Will means to you and I couldn’t bear to be the sore nerve in the middle of your beautiful relationship so,”

Before she could continue, Kyle pulled her into a kiss, silencing her. “Don’t say it,” he whispered, “do not say what you almost did. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t let you do. I would never let you leave me. Not like this. Not until I am certain that’d be the only way to make you happy. But not like this.”

“See? You would have fought.”

“Hell yeah,”

“Why would you fight for me when I thought about leaving you,” Erika paused again, “I am so sorry.”

“Erika, baby,” Kyle made her look at him, “You aren’t thinking of leaving me because you are selfish or mean. I can see that everything you did, even if it may have been a degree wrong, you did it to protect my interest to the best of your abilities.” Kyle slid his hands around her face, stroking her cheeks. “I appreciate you. I love you. But don’t ever think I’d be happier without you.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you,” Erika pushed a hand on his chest, just above where his heart was, “No more secrets.”

“That would be wise,” Kyle chuckled. His smile was as fresh as the breeze, making her feel reassured, “Especially since I seem to be the voice of reason around here.”

“Then, coming to the most pressing matter.” Erika started, looking down again. Her cheeks were slowly blushing, “I want to date Will.”

“Are you leaving me for Billy Goat!?” Kyle placed a hand on his chest, pretending to look shocked. “I knew he was bad business,”

“C’mon, mate,” Erika gave him a playful push, “be serious you idiot,”

“Right,” Kyle nodded, “Am I invited to join this dating party? Or is it an exclusive?”

“No. I mean yeah, yes you are invited. I mean, you must be there.” Erika cleared her voice, just saying it out loud brought images into her mind making her thoughts all foggy and her stomach twist. “I would like to welcome Will in the couple, that’s it. Because I like him. I’ve been liking him a while,” she talked fast as if pushing out the words as quickly as possible could somehow hide her from Kyle’s reaction.

“Yeah, I know that babe,”

“So, what do you think?”

She didn’t even think about the possibility of his refusal. What if he was only interested in a one-night stand and didn’t care to indulge her? What if he didn’t like the idea of sharing all of that with Will?

Kyle shrugged, “I mean I am down for it. What did Will say?”

“He’s totally smitten by you. Called you beautiful, quoting.”

“I mean, I am beautiful, but that’s beside the point.”

Erika chuckled, “You are such a dumb prick sometimes,”

Kyle still blushed, even though he had just been cocky, “I’d like that. I mean it��s not a secret how much I feel for Will so,”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between close friendship and romance,”

“Is there?” Kyle wondered, “Or maybe I just never openly admitted that I like him and that’s why we are so close. I mean, not that I have thought about it enough to put a label on it, but I wouldn’t oppose having him around more often. Equally, I have no problem getting on with the both of you.”

“Oh,” Erika chuckled, nodding, “that I know.” 

In her belly, Erika felt a warm feeling distending and sliding across her body, under her skin, lulling her into a new relaxed state. It wasn’t only finding relief after days of intense, nerve-wracking anxiety and dreadful sadness, it was also joy, deep and pure. 

She hadn’t planned anything to go the way it went in the past few days and certainly, she wasn’t expecting it to end up like a bloody fairytale happy ending. She had convinced herself of the opposite. But now she couldn’t think about anything but being grateful. 

If only she had known earlier that things would have turned out that way.

She then pulled him into a hug, pushing her face into the crook of his neck. Erika cradled him gently, assimilating the consistency of his solid body in her arms. “Whatever, you know? I love you.”

“I love you too, always.” 

Erika was completely taken by pleasure. She felt like she was floating. Her body didn’t feel hers anymore. She didn’t have weight or consistency. No thoughts, only emotions. She was only her pleasure, wrapped and moulded under heavy bodies, hot hands and hungry mouths.

Kyle kept her solidly pressed against his chest. He had one hand wrapped around her throat as his other arm twisted around her waist, just so he could have easy access to her clit, only intensifying her pleasure as she took both of them in. She was riding Will’s cock, as Kyle fucked her ass. 

“You are doing so good, pet,” he lulled at her ear. 

They were taking it extremely slow now, especially for the standards they were getting her used to, but it wasn’t certainly the pace of their night. The boys had been relentless and merciless, making her come countless times already and still keeping her pleasure rolling.

Erika thought she could snap and go insane. She had never cried because of pleasure before. She had heard of the event. Maybe even see it when watching dirty, hardcore porno but never experienced it herself. Up to tonight.

The first-time tears had started streaming down her face, both Will and Kyle froze, thinking they were hurting her somehow, only making her go more feral. Erika had to threaten them not to stop, ever. Unless she told them so. And they hadn’t ever since.

She had never experienced anything like what she was feeling that night. Not even the first time they were together the pleasure was quite so high. But that night was somehow hotter, and dirtier, the things they did and said to each other were more prohibited and inebriating. And none of the trio seemed to have enough of the other two.

Erika whimpered, too exhausted even to moan louder. Erika sat down on Will’s cock, slowly, accompanied by Kyle’s hand guiding her movements as the Aussie proceeded to slide back into her. It was like a synchronised dance between them, supposed to cyclically fill her up as much as possible. She had begged for it but could never be ready for the real feeling. She had experience with anal and even double penetration, as she and Kyle liked to play with toys, but her toys weren’t as big as both those boys fucking her. She felt like she was getting split in two, and loved every second of it. 

Their skin was a sticky mess of sweat, bodily fluids and lube. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kyle’s pure satisfaction vibrated through his voice, making her purr.

Words escaped her mind just as easily as thoughts did, she was abandoned in between their arms, body and soul, Erika only managed to slowly nod at him.

She felt Kyle's sharp smile pressed on her shoulder as he looked down at Will and invited her to a holt. In her stillness, Erika took a second to catch her breath, relaxing her lower abdomen and adjusting to both men's sizes. 

She wasn’t at all mad at Kyle’s chosen pace. It gave her a chance to catch her breath – as much as still being fucked and held by the throat, hands tied behind her back could do. But she knew that Kyle’s slow torture wasn’t targeted at her, for once. She knew the Aussie's bright eyes were pointed at Will just as much as she was aware his sharp, challenging smile was for the Brit too, as Kyle had taken control over the both of them. 

And she was in with Kyle’s game. Hearing Will whimpering underneath her, begging for pleasure, made her go insane.

He too had his hands bound. He was trapped by handcuffs locked to the bed board and she loved to see how he moved and stretched underneath her. His muscles twitching and contracting. His big arms looked so good bent above his head. 

She had taken a mental note of how much she liked it and thought next time she would have tied down both boys, planning to take her time to play with both.

However, that wasn’t quite the only thing that sent her completely feral. The desperate insanity of her attraction to the two men she was sharing the bed with pivoted when Kyle silenced Will, staffing her panties into his mouth and gagging him.

“Do you want to fuck this pretty boy, pet?” Kyle wondered. His words were enough to make both her and Will tremble. Kyle had his large hand opened wide on her lower abdomen and pressed on her, making her move her hips ever so slowly, causing Will to twitch and huff. 

Erika smiled, turning her head to Kyle as much as his hold on her allowed movement, looking for a kiss. “Please,” she whispered against his lips. “I do.”

“Of course, you do, pet,” he cooed, “that’s what you like doing best, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” 

Kyle dangerously purred in her ear, “No, no, pretty one, don’t disappoint me now,” he pushed her chin up and head back just to make her stretch in his hold. “Say it. Let me hear it,”

Erika moulded under his control, “Please, let me fuck him,” she whined, “I am such a slut for you,” she continued and the more she said, the more she wanted to say just to please the Aussie. “I want you both to cum all over me.”

“That bad, uh?” Kyle pushed her head back so she could watch Will, controlling her hips to move in another painfully slow thrust. And then another, quicker this time. They all moaned. “Shall we milk every drop of what he has to give?” Kyle’s hand stretched over Will’s abdomen, causing the Brit to react to his touch, bending his back with a whine. Before she could even think about responding in any way, Kyle's soft chuckle in her ear gave her a shiver. “Or, I could fuck you some more myself and make him watch.”

Will grunted, impatiently twitching underneath them, trying to buck his hips into her to find some form of satisfaction, trying to lift himself up and fight the firm hold of his handcuffs.

That only caused Kyle to chuckle, “What was that baby? Daddy’s angry?” He guided another slow thrust. “Daddy should learn to be patient, don’t you think, pet?”

She nodded, rolling her head on his shoulder and letting a small moan out, not entirely sure she could think straight anymore. Almost out of habit, without thinking, she moved her hips, taking the initiative to thrust on them. Kyle let her. Her body was stretched like an elastic band ready to snap, pressed under her ever-grown hunger for pleasure that wouldn’t come. Kyle’s torture was making her go mad. 

“Please, Kyle,” she huffed, exchanging a desperate look with Will. They both begged to be satisfied. 

“Yes, pet? What is it?”

“I need-” 

Kyle suffocated her words and ripped a moan out of her as he made her slide up and down Will’s cock pushing himself back into her. Erika opened her mouth wide, rolling her eyes in the back of her skull. The pleasure of feeling them both inside of her was too much even for her to voice it.

“What do you need, baby?” his tone was now softer, more attentive, “Tell me, I will give it to you.”

“J-just fuck me,” she exhaled, “and let me fuck him.”

Kyle was ready to give her what she wanted. He exchanged a nod with Will, only so he would be ready and received a suffocated moan in return, as Will still tried to fight the handcuffs off. “Nah, big boy,” Kyle patted Will on the belly, “you are staying exactly like that.”

A shiver crossed Erika as she nodded, supporting the Aussie. “Daddy’s so pretty tied up.” She purred pressing a smile into Kyle’s jaw.

Will let his head fall on the pillow and bit down on the fabric in his mouth, suffocating a grunt, but the second he stopped resisting, Kyle rewarded him with what everyone wanted.

“C’mon, baby, be a good girl and take what you need from us,” he instructed, letting Erika move freely as she wished on Will’s cock, and respecting her rhythm with his own thrusts.

She stretched against him and rode the Brit. Now it was her turn to be merciless, but Erika had very little patience too. She had been toyed with enough and felt like she was going to implode if she hadn’t found release. She whined, her body already shaking as the wildest wave of pleasure started to grow inside her tummy.

Her fingers spread out on Kyle’s abdomen, touching as much of Kyle’s skin as she could, even though her hands were tied up. 

He kissed her neck, ear and side of her head, only for his hold to become stronger around her throat. “Inhale, pet. Take a deep breath and hold it in those pretty lungs.”

Erika whimpered. A shiver crossed her spine, shaking her. She would have done anything for him but that command, somehow, was groundbreaking. Made her want to drop on her knees and have a collar put around her neck. It made her stomach twist. Her thoughts dissipated; nothing was left but letting herself go in his arms.

She did as instructed, inhaling deeply, just so Kyle could squeeze her throat and choke her. His hold was hot but firm, suffocating her breath and voice into submission as their rhythm only quickened. With every thrust shaking her and her lungs constricting into her chest, Erika felt her caged self spiral towards an undiscovered level of pleasure. 

Kyle lulled sweet words to her ear, encouraging her to take it all. He softly kissed her neck and bit down on her shoulder, suffocating his own moans on her skin. The hand he had around her abdomen quickly moved down between her legs, where he could massage her clit only making her pleasure grow exponentially.

Will arched under her, growling like a rabid animal and grabbing on the bed board, making the entire bed creak under the pressure of his hold. Erika quivered, feeling the mindless need to feel that same strength on her own body, bending her and holding her down.

She so desperately wanted to scream. She wasn’t thinking clearly any longer. 

When pleasure hit her, rolling into her lower belly and exploding through her, making her shake uncontrollably, Kyle caught her and held her, releasing his hold on her throat and letting her breathe. “Good girl,” he praised, cradling her, not stopping for one second fucking her and not allowing her to slow on Will either. “Give it to us, baby,”

Erika cried their names as pleasure muffled all her other senses. Her quivering body squeezed on the boys as she abandoned herself against Kyle’s chest, letting him guide her movements.

Will came first, right after her, following the waves of her pleasure. Kyle moaned too, feeling Will’s dick release inside of her. “That’s it, big boy,” he praised, “fill her pretty pussy up.”

Will filled her up with his hot seed and, whining and groaning, pulled on his handcuffs leaving marks on his wrists. Feeling his pleasure pump inside of her made her feral. Erika was ready to howl like a dog, feeling pure satisfaction in the idea he had just branded her. 

As soon as he was done, Kyle propped her up and continued fucking her, following Will and doing exactly the same thing. He pushed her head up just so he could trap her lips in a famished kiss, suffocating her whimpers as he fucked her mercilessly until he reached his own pleasure, filling her up a second time. Rode his orgasm suffocating his moans in the crook of her neck, hands grabbing on her body like he was trying his best to hold onto something, not to get washed away in his own orgasm.

Erika was a quivering mess. Her mind was completely fogged up and disconnected, to the point she wasn’t entirely aware of the sweet things Kyle chanted in her ear as he untied her wrists and laid her down.

The first thing she felt other than the hot waves of deep pleasure sex just gave her, was the cold air tickling her sweaty skin as she felt completely uncovered for the first time. She had been naked a long time by now, but she always had one boy or the other, or both on her at all time, up to that moment.

Kyle climbed above Will’s chest, full of praising words for him too as he pulled her panties out of his mouth. “You are a good, pretty boy, you know that?” he wondered softly, sliding a hand across Will’s jaw fondly.

Will smiled, not hiding the pink blushing his cheeks. “Thanks, darlin’” he patiently waited for Kyle to unlock his handcuffs, only to sit up with the Aussie in his lap and grab him by the neck as soon as he was free. “Next time you’ll be the one begging for daddy,”

Kyle looked into his eyes for a long time and then, as he slid his arms on Will’s shoulder, they both smiled at each other.

Erika rolled to her side, looking at them with a warm feeling spreading in her belly. She wasn’t only smitten by them. It was stronger than that. She needed to touch them so bad it hurt.

“Just kiss already,” she hinted, stretching in the bedsheets, trying to find some comfort for her tired body. She was exhausted and yet had enough strength left in her to still offer a cheeky smile to the both of them as they looked down at her. “I know you want to,” she purred, looking at Will.

Kyle and Will looked back at each other. The Aussie cupped Will’s face, caressing his cheeks, making him look up at him. “Do you, baby?”

“Call me baby one more time and I’ll lick the floor for you, pretty boy.”

Kyle pressed his smile on Will’s lips. Just like it had been for her, Will took a moment to melt into that new embrace, but when he did, she slid his arms around Kyle, pulling him into a hug. Their kiss was quick to heat up. When she saw their tongues flick as they made out, she was sure she felt it in her lower abdomen. Hearing their breath quicken only made Erika quiver under her own skin. Pure lust flooded through her, lighting her body up once again. 

She pushed herself up and slid close to them, kissing Will on the shoulder and then leaning on Kyle’s. “You’ll drive me insane boys.”

Both Kyle and Will looked back at her, welcoming her in their hug. “Good,” Will kissed her forehead and Kyle her cheek, making her feel their affection.

She felt so grateful and lucky.

“You know what’s the funniest part of this entire thing, mate?” Wondered Kyle, hanging on Will’s shoulders.

“What, bruv?”

“You will have to tell Mark you are fucking his sister.”

“Ah, fuck,” Will let himself fall backwards into the pillows, only pretending defeat, as both Kyle and Erika laughed.