#rhythmic scheme

[calamitys-child]

Something something the curtains are blue or whatever but underappreciated media analysis phenomenon is when someone else reads something you wrote and points out the blue curtains that you hadn't even noticed yourself hanging up while you built it. Like fuck they sure are I genuinely hadn't noticed I just flung em up I was concentrating on the carpet. Hey that shade of blue goes nice with the carpet huh. I should get more decor in that colour. Does this make sense to anyone

[rayveneyed]

bakugou katsuki proclaims, quite often, that he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. he snarls it — cheeks flushed an angry red — when you teasingly ask him for homemade chocolates, or to change your name in his phone to something cheesy. you’ve had him down as pumpkin from the moment you started dating, after all, and he’s long grown used to hearing baby and sweetheart and darling in place of his given name, even though he swears he hates it. you often tug at his wrist and point to bouquets of red roses, whining why don’t you ever get me those? just annoying enough to have him pulling your head under his elbow and roughly ruffling your hair, cursing the way he’s spoiled you.

kirishima got mina a heartbeat bracelet, you say pointedly, tucked under his arm on the couch and peering up at him with those eyes — those eyes that say you’re looking to push his buttons a little. (internally, he scoffs — as if he didn’t know. as if he wasn’t the one that gave shitty hair the idea in the first place. it’s just — it’s different, isn’t it, when he’s getting it for himself? for you?) shouldn’t we get something like that, baby ?

he grunts something unintelligible — something about how they’re gimmicky, how they probably don’t work, how it’d distract him when he’s kicking ass, how it’d probably melt with the use of a single howitzer impact, blah blah blah. you shrug. it’s not that big of a deal, anyway. you mostly brought it up to pull his leg a little — you know he’s not one for grand gestures like that, preferring his acts of service above all else — but for all the fight he’d put up, two heartbeat bracelets arrive at your apartment not even a week later. amazon prime expedited shipping, no less. 

he ignores you when you bring it up — lets you fasten it onto his wrist with little fanfare, the tips of his ears turning red, muttering something about he’d probably never use it, anyway, and he only got it so that you’d shut up about it all — never say i don’t do shit for you, woman!

but when he’s halfway across the world, tangled up in schemes larger than you have the capacity to think about — when you’re watching the news with teary eyes and bated breath, hands clutched to your chest, it always comes without fail: a small buzz on your wrist, gentle and thudding and rhythmic. ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump.

[lisasmuts]

The Debt

Lalisa Manoban (Lisa)

10k words

A tale of what a loving girlfriend can do for her boyfriend.

( When a friend in need is a girlfriend in deed.)

Lisa’s eyes fluttered shut as Eli’s tongue caressed her sensitive breasts. She let out a soft, trembling moan, arching her back to press herself into his touch. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him to continue his attentions.

“Eli…”

She breathed, her voice thick with desire.

“Don’t stop, please.”

Lisa’s hips rocked against his, seeking greater friction and stimulation. The familiar heat was building within her, fuEling her desperation for release. She pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of his body against hers.

“I need you,”

She whimpered, her nails racking lightly down his back.

“I need you inside me, now…”

Lisa cried out in ecstasy as Eli’s thrusts grew more frantic. She felt the familiar heat building within her, coiling tighter with each snap of his. Suddenly, the tension snapped, and they climaxed together in a blinding rush of pleasure.

Lisa’s back arched, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around Eli’s pulsing length as he flooded her womb with his seed. Shudders of bliss wracked her body, and she clung to him, savoring every moment of their shared release.

Collapsing against the sheets, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, heart racing. Lisa pressed tender kisses to Eli’s face, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had never felt so complete, so utterly claimed as his.

Lisa’s eyes widened with concern as Eli shared his trouble of debt. She gently cupped his face, her expression soft and reassuring.

“Oh, my darling, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She murmured, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“You know I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Pulling him close, Lisa pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

“We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

Her gaze turned resolute, a spark of determination igniting within her.

“Just tell me what I need to do.”

Shifting her weight, Lisa straddled Eli’s hips, her movements fluid and sensual.

“Perhaps…”

“There’s a way I can… help ease your burden?”

Her hips rolled in a tantalizing rhythms, her eyes smoldering with desire.

‘After all, what are girlfriends for, if not to take care of their men?”

Lisa’s eyes shone with empathy as Eli kissed her desperately. When they finally parted, she cupped his face tenderly.

“Shh, my love, I’m here for you,”

She murmured soothingly.

“And you know I’ll do anything to help you ease your burden.”

A coy smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she pressed herself against him.

As Eli slept soundly beside her, Lisa’s mind raced with a devious idea. She couldn’t help but consider the possibility of offering her body to Eli’s friend in exchange for clearing his debt. It seemed like the perfect solution - a way to alleviate Eli’s burdens without him ever knowing.

Lisa’s pulse quickened at the thought. The idea of being used by another men, of submitting to his carnal desires, sent a thrill through her. And if it meant saving Eli from his troubles, well, that was all the justification she needed.

Biting her lip, Lisa made a silent vow to herself. Tomorrow, when she was alone at the office, she would seriously consider putting her plan into motion. For now, she would keep it to herself, not wanting to worry Eli with the details. After all, she was his devoted girlfriend – and she would do whatever it took to keep him happy and secure.

With that, Lisa snuggled closer to Eli, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She couldn’t wait to see how this dEliciously naughty scheme would unfold.

Lisa’s heart raced as she dialed Eli’s number. When he answered, she took a deep breath before speaking.

“Darling, I was hoping you could give me your friend’s number. I think I may have a way to help with that debt of yours,”

She said, her voice low and sultry.

Chirtransh was hesitant at first, but Lisa’s persistent reassurances soon won him over. Reluctantly, he provided the number, trusting his beloved girlfriend to handle the situation.

Lisa wasted no time in dialing y/n, Eli’s friend. When you answered, she adopted a sultry, seductive tone.

“Hello, Y/N. This is Lisa. I understand you’re the one Eli owes a debt to?”

She paused, letting her words sink in.

“Well, I may have a… proposition for you. One that could benefit us both.”

Leaning back in her chair, Lisa crossed her legs slowly, her skirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs.

“You see, I’ve been thinking about how I can help Eli with this situation. And I bElieve I’ve come up with a perfect solution.”

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“What if I were to… offer myself, as payment for the debt?”

Lisa let the implication hang in the air, her gaze burning with wicked intent.

“I’m sure we could… come to some mutually satisfying arrangement.”

Lisa’s heart raced as she waited for y/n’s response. After a brief a pause, she leaned in closer to her phone, her voice dripping with sultry seduction.

“You see, y/n, I’m more than willing to… take care of this debt in a very personal way.”

She paused, letting the implication sink in.

“I can be your personal plaything, your obedient little fuck toy, as long as Eli’s debt is cleared.”

Biting her lip, Lisa’s gaze smoldered with wicked intent.

“Just imagine, having me at your beck and call, ready to service you however you desire.”

She let out a soft, melodic laugh.

“I promise, it would be a most… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Lisa’s heart raced with a mix of excitement and trepidation as y/n agreed to her proposition. She quickly jotted down the details he provided – the time and place to finalize their arrangement.

“Excellent, y/n. I’ll be there, I promise.”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry anticipation.

“And I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”

Ending the call, Lisa leaned back in her chair, a wicked smile spreading across her lips. This was it – her chance to save Eli from his troubles, all while indulging her own deepest desires. The thought of being used, degraded, and claimed by another man sent a thrill through her.

Lisa paused, considering the best way to handle this situation. She knew that deceiving Eli would be risky, but the potential rewards were too great to ignore. With a resolute nod, she began planning her next move, determined to see this through to the end.

Lisa paced back and forth in her office, her mind racing with indecision. Should she suggest y/n to use protection, or would she let him take her raw? The thought of being filled with his seed sent a thrill through her.

After several minutes of internal debate, Lisa made her decision. With a resolute nod, she knew what she had to do. Y/N would have her however he pleased, without any barriers between them. The risk only heightened the excitement coursing through her veins. A wicked smile spread across Lisa’s lips as she prepared to meet her new business partner.

Eli’s debt would be cleared, and she would get to indulge her deepest, most depraved desires. It was a win-win situation, as far as she was concerned.

Lisa’s heart raced as in the lunch time Eli arrived at her office for their lunch date. She steeled her nerves, her excitement, determined to maintain her composure and carry out her deception.

As they sat together, Eli asked about the debt situation. Lisa looked into his eyes her expression earnest.

“Darling, I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t find a way to help with that debt,”

“I tried everything I could think of, but there’s simply no solution I can offer.”

Lisa reached across the table, taking Eli’s hand in hers. Her gaze was filled with false sympathy, concealing the wicked plan she had already set in motion.

“I wish I could do more, but I’m afraid this is something you’ll have to handle on your own. I’m here for you, though, no matter what.”

As Eli finished his lunch in silence, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, Lisa’s heart raced with a mixture of guilt and excitement. The moment he departed, her expression transformed – a wicked grin spreading across her face as she jumped up from her seat, practically bouncing with glee.

“PERFECT”

She murmured to herself, her mind already racing with the possibilities. Eli had bought her lie, leaving the way clear for her to enact her devious plan. With a quick glance around the office, she gathered her things and hurried out, determined to meet Y/N and seal their sordid arrangement.

Lisa’s pulse quickened with anticipation. She would do whatever it took to help her beloved Eli, even if it meant submitting herself to the carnal desires of another man. The though of being used, degraded and claimed sent a thrill through her – a wicket excitement that she could scarcely contain.

Lisa’s fingers trembled slightly as she typed out the message of her not being able to come home the night to Eli, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She hated having to lie to him, but the stakes were too high to back down now. As the night fell, she made her way to the designated meeting spot, her pulse quickening with each step. When she arrived, Lisa found herself alone, the anticipation building within her. She knew Y/N would be arriving soon, and the thought of what was to come send a thrill through her.

Smoothing a hand over her skirt, Lisa took a deep breath, steEling her nerves. She was doing this for Eli, to save him from his troubles. And if that meant submitting to the carnal desires of another man, then so be it. Lisa was ready to embrace her role as Y/N’s personal plaything, no matter how depraved or degrading it might become. With a resolute nod, she settled in to wait, her mind racing with the possibilities that lay ahead. This was her chance to prove her devotion to Eli, and she was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.

The sudden slap on her ass cheeks made Lisa jump, but before she could react, she pulled into a searing kiss. At first, she was caught off guard, unsure of who this mysterious figure was. But as their lips met, Lisa felt a familiar heat building within her. Instinctively, she took control of the kiss, her tongue sliding against the stranger’s as she pressed her body flush against his. The intensity of their embrace left her breathless, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. When they finally parted, Lisa’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself staring into the smoldering gaze of Y/N, Eli’s friend. A coy smile tugged at the corners of her lips as realization dawned on her.

“Well, hello there,”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry confidence.

“I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

Y/N’s hands gripped Lisa’s firmly shaped ass, Eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. His gaze burned with raw desire as he spoke.

“You’re so eager and hungry, aren’t you, pet?”

“I can feel it in the way you kissed me, even though when you were kissing you didn’t know me, making it a stranger kissing you”

Lisa’s pulse quickened at his words, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her. Leaning in, she pressed her body flush against his, her voice dropping to a sultry purr.

“Then why don’t you take what you want, hmmm?”

“I’m all yours, darling.”

With that, Lisa already surrendered herself to Y/N’s carnal desires, ready to fulfill her promise and save Eli from his troubles, no matter the cost.

Lisa’s heart raced as Y/N lead her into the nearby hotel. They settled at a table, their hands intertwined. Y/N’s gaze was intense as he spoke.

“So, Lisa, let’s discuss the details of our arrangement,”

He said his voice low and authoritative.

“I want to make sure we’re both on the same page.”

Lisa met his eyes, her expression of pure lust.

“Of course, Y/N. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to help Eli.”

She gave his hands a gentle squeeze.

“Just tell me what you need from me.”

Lisa’s eyes glinted with wicked intent as she leaned in, her voice dripping with filthy seduction.

“Oh, I know exactly what you need, darling,”

She purred, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking them greedily.

“And I’m more than willing to give it to you, in ever way imaginable.”

Her tongue swirled around his digits, her gaze burning with lust.

“So tell me, Y/N, how do you want me? How do you want to use this body of mine to pay off chitrasnsh’s debt??”

Lisa paused, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“I’m yours to command.”

Y/N’s eyes roamed hungrily over Lisa’s upper body as he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire.

“Oh I plan to use every inch of this delectable body, pet”

He purred, his fingers trailing down her arm.

“But first, I want to savor the view.”

Lisa felt a thrill of anticipation course through her as Y/N’s gaze devoured her. She leaned in closer, her lips mere inches from his.

“Then by all means, take your time,”

She breathed, her voice dripping with sultry invitation.

“I’m all yours to explore.”

Lisa felt of dElicious blend of emotions as Y/N’s hungry gaze roamed over her upped body. His dominant, possessive stare made her feel simultaneously cute and thoroughly fucked – a heady combination that sent a thrill through her.

Biting her lip coyly, Lisa leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“Like what you see, darling?”

She reached up to trail a finger along his jawline.

“Because I’m all yours to enjoy, however you see fit.”

Lisa’s heart raced with wicked anticipation, eager to surrender herself completely to Y/N’s carnal desires. She was ready to be used, degraded, and claimed – all in the name of helping her beloved Eli.

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as Y/N’s words struck a chord within her. She couldn’t deny the truth – helping Eli was only a convenient excuse. What she truly craved was the thrill of being used, degraded, and claimed by another man.

Gazing up at Y/N, Lisa’s eyes shone with wicked desire.

“You’re right, darling,”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry confession.

“I want this just as much as you do. So why don’t you take what you want?”

With that, Y/N stood, his hands roaming possessively over Lisa’s body. She leaned into his touch, revEling in the sensation of being objectified and desired.

“I’m all yours,”

She breathed, her body trembling with anticipation.

“Do with me as you please.”

Lisa’s expression shifted, a hint of guilt flickering across her features.

“you’re right, Y/N. I do want this, more than I can say.”

she paused, her gaze dropping briefly.

“But I’m still doing this for Eli. He’s the one I love, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help him.”

Reaching up, Lisa traced the line of Y/N’s jaw, her touch feather – light.

“So let’s not pretend this is anything more than what it is – a means to an end. I’m yours to use, but my heart belongs to Eli.”

y/n pulled Lisa into a searing, hungry kiss, which she returned with even greater fervor. As they broke apart, breathless, he fixed her with a smoldering gaze.

“It doesn’t matter where your heart lies, pet,”

He growled, his voice dripping with possessive desire.

“For the rest of this week, you belong to me – my cock, my desires. Nothing else matters.”

Lisa felt a thrill of excitement course through her at his words. She knew this was wrong, a betrayal of Eli’s trust.

Lisa’s eyes scanned the document, her heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and wicked excitement. This was it – the official agreement that would bind her to Y/N for the next week. Lisa’s eyes widened as she processed the terms of the agreement – seven days belonging to Y/N, in exchange for clearing Eli’s debt. But as the initial shock wore off, a wicked realization dawned on her.

“Seven days??”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry seduction.

“Why, that simply won’t do darling.”

Leaning in closer, Lisa trailed finger down Y/N’s chest, her gaze smoldering.

“If it were up to me, I’d happily stay with you for seven weeks… or seven months… or even seven years.”

A coy smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she gazed up at him.

“After all, I’m your obedient little plaything, remember??”

Lisa let out a soft, melodic laugh.

“So why limit ourselves to just seven days??”

Y/N’s eyes widened as he lifted Lisa’s skirt, finding her completely bare beneath. A wicked grin spread across his lips.

“Well, well, look at that,”

he purred, his fingers tracing the dElicate skin of her inner thighs.

“No panties, hmmm?? Just as I’d expect from such a shameless little slut.”

Lisa let out a soft, breathless laugh, her gaze smoldering with unbridled desire.

“That’s right, darling,”

She purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“Sluts like me don’t need such trivial things as underwear. We’re always ready to be used.”

Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss, her body trembling with anticipation.

“So why don’t you take what you want?”

She breathed against his mouth.

“I’m all yours.”

Y/N’s fingers slid into Lisa’s tight, slick folds, Eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,”

He growled, his voice laced with amazement.

His thumb circled her sensitive nub, drawing a shudder of pleasure from the BLACKPINK star.

“What did you expect, darling??”

Lisa purred, her hips rocking against his hand.

‘I’m a good girl for Eli, but with you…”

She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear.

“I’m nothing but a shameless, greedy slut.”

Capturing his lips in a searing kiss, Lisa surrendered herself completely to Y/N’s skilled ministrations, her body trembling with wanton desire.

Y/N’s skilled fingers worked Lisa’s sensitive folds, drawing ragged gasps and shudders of pleasure from the BLACKPINK star. His thumb circled her throbbing nub, Eliciting a wanton moan.

“That’s it, pet,”

“Let me hear how much you love being used like the greedy slut you are.”

Lisa’s hips rocked against his hand, her body trembling with unbridled desire.

“Oh, god, Y/N”

She panted, her voice thick with lust.

“don’t stop, please. Make me cum…”

Capturing his lips in a searing kiss, Lisa surrendered herself completely to his ministrations, her mind consumed by the dElicious sensations coursing through her. This was her chance to prove her devotion to Eli, no matter the cost.

Y/N’s fingers moved with increasing speed, drawing desperate whimpers from Lisa’s lips. However, he paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Now, now, pet,”

He purred,

“Let’s not make too much of a mess, hmmm??? We’re in public, after all.”

His thumb circled her sensitive nub, Eliciting a shudder.

“I’d hate for you to have a… telltale glistening on your thighs for all to see.”

Lisa bit her lip, her hips rocking against his hand.

“Then what do you suggest, darling?”

she breathed, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“I’m aching to cum for you…”

Y/N’s lips curled into an appreciation smile as he listened to Lisa’s wanton plea.

“Patience, pet,”

He purred, his fingers stilling their ministrations.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll officially belong to me for the rest of the week. And trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be aching for my touch in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers in a teasing caress.

“So for now, be a good girl and save that dElicious desperation for me. I promise, it will be well worth the wait.”

Lisa’s hips rocked desperately against Y/N’s hand, seeking any friction to soothe her aching need. But he quickly pulled his fingers away, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Now, now, pet”

“No need to get so greedy. I told you, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

His gaze burned with wicked amusement as he watched Lisa’s frustration mount.

“Don’t worry, darling,”

He murmured,

“I promise it will be worth it. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for my touch.”

Lisa let out a frustrated whimper, her body trembling with unsatisfied desire. But she knew better than to argue. Y/N held all the power now, and she was powerless to resist his cruel teasing.

Lisa’s eyes gleamed with wicked excitement as Y/N handed her the pen. Without hesitation, she signed the agreement, sealing her fate for the next week. The moment the ink dried, she pulled Y/N into a hungry, passionate kiss, her body trembling with anticipation. Their lips crashed together, tongues battling for dominance as Lisa surrendered herself completely to her new master. When they finally parted, breathless, her gaze was dark with lust.

“I’m yours, Y/N.”

She purred, her voice dripping with sultry promise.

“Do with me as you please.”

THE NEXT DAY……

Lisa woke up with a thrill of excitement coursing through her. The events of previous night had left her body humming with anticipation. Y/N was now officially in control of her, and the thought of being his plaything for the next week sent a dElicious shiver down her spine. As she recalled the teasing, the kissing the edging that they had indulged in, Lisa felt a familiar warmth pooling between her thighs. And then she remembered the vibrator Y/N had so expertly inserted into her pussy before theey parted ways.

Biting her lip, Lisa reached down, feEling the subtle buzz of the device inside her. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was finally in control, and after a week, Eli would be free from his debt. This was all worth it.

Shifting her hips, Lisa let out a soft moan, rElishing the sensations the vibrator was Eliciting. She couldn’t wait to see what other dElights Y/N had in store for her today. One thing was certain – she was his to command, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lisa had just freshened up and arrived at her office, ready to dive into her work. But as she settled at her desk, a sudden, unexpected vibration began inside her, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. She grasped, struggling to keep her voice down as the vibrator pulsed at a relentless speed.

Biting her lip, Lisa’s hips rocked subtly, her breath coming in short, quiet pants. The sensation was overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to focus on the task at hand. She cast a furtive glance around the office, praying no one would notice her predicament.

“Y/N”, she thought, a mix of exasperation and arousal coursing through her. “You’re going to pay for this.” Gripping the edge of her desk, Lisa rode out the waves of pleasure, determined not to let her façade crack. But with each passing minute, it grew increasingly difficult to maintain her composure. This was going to be a long, torturous day.

Lisa’s eyes widened as she read the message ‘if she cums due to vibrator then she is not worthy enough’ from Y/N. Her heart raced with a mix of fear and desperation. The thought of not being worthy in his eyes filled her with dread. She couldn’t afford to fail him, not when Eli’s freedom was on the line. Gritting her teeth, Lisa focused all her energy on holding back the building pleasure. She clenched her muscles, determined not to let the vibrator’s relentless stimulation push her over the edge. Sweat beaded on her brow as she fought against her body’s natural reactions.

‘I won’t fail you, Y/N,’ she thought, her resolve hardening, ‘I’ll prove my worth, no matter what it takes.’

The vibrator's speed increased relentlessly, its pulsing movements hitting Lisa's sensitive spots with merciless precision. She bit down hard on her lip, stifling a desperate whimper as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. Her body trembled with the effort of holding back her impending orgasm.

'I can't...I won't fail him,' Lisa thought, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of her desk. The vibrations were overwhelming, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her core. But she refused to give in, determined to prove her worth to Y/N no matter the cost.

Closing her eyes, Lisa focused every ounce of her willpower on maintaining control. She would not let this vibrator, no matter how skilled its torment, bring her to ruin. This was her chance to show her devotion, and she would see it through to the end.

The sudden cessation of the relentless vibrations brought Lisa a brief respite, though her body still hummed with residual pleasure. Just as she was starting to relax, the door to her office opened, and Eli stepped in. forcing a bright smile, Lisa greeted him, doing her best to conceal the torment as she had endured for the past three hours.

“Eli! What a lovely surprise,”

She said, her voice betraying only the slightest hint of strain.

“I was just thinking about you. Come, join me for lunch.”

Inwardly, Lisa’s mind raced, wondering how she would get through this encounter without giving away the shameful secret of the vibrator still nestled within her. She had to maintain her composure, no matter how difficult it might be. After all, the stakes were too high to falter now.

As Eli and Lisa shared a casual lunch together, Lisa did her best to maintain a calm, composed demeanor, despite the lingering sensations from the vibrator still nestled within her. She laughed at his jokes, engaged in light hearted banter, and outwardly appeared the picture of a devoted girlfriend. However, beneath the surface, Lisa’s mind was racing, her body still humming with residual pleasure. She desperately hoped Eli would not notice the slightest shift in her behaviour or the subtle tremor in her hands as she sipped her drink.

‘just hold on a little longer’ she silently urged herself. ‘once he leaves, I can finally have the release I so desperately crave.’ For now, she would have to rely on her acting skills to get through this encounter unscathed.

The sudden, unexpected resurgence of the vibrator’s relentless pulsing sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through Lisa’s body. She grasped, her eyes widening as she struggled to maintain her composure in front of Eli. Her hips rocked subtly, the pleasure building with each passing second. ‘Y/N, you bastard,’ she thought, biting her lip to stifle a moan. ‘how dare you torment me like this?’ but even as the though crossed her mind, a thrill of wicked excitement coursed through her. She was at this mercy, and the knowledge both terrified and enthralled her. Casting a furtive glance at Eli, Lisa forced a smile, determined not to let her façade crack. She had to ensure this, no matter how difficult it might be. Gripping the edge of the table, she rode out the waves of pleasure, praying she could hold on until Eli left.

Eli noticed Lisa’s subtle shift in demeanor and the slight tremor in her hands. His brow furrowed with concern as he reached across the table, gently covering her hand with his own.

“Lisa, is everything alright? You seem a bit… distracted.”

His voice was laced with worry as he searched her face for any sign of discomfort.

“If something is bothering you, you can tell me. You know I’m here for you.”

Lisa forced a bright smile, her voice betraying only the slightest hint of strain.

“Oh, Eli, everything is just fine! I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, going her best to conceal the torment raging within her as the vibrator continued its relentless pulsing.

“I’m just a little tired from work, that’s all.  But your company is the perfect pcik-me-up.”

Lisa leaned in, pressing soft kiss to his cheek. Inwardly, she prayed that her act would be convincing enough to keep Eli from suspecting the shameful truth. As soon as Eli left the office, Lisa let out a desperate, pleasure-filled scream, calling out Y/N’s name.

“Y/N, you bastard! How dare you torment me like this??”

She rocked her hips, the vibrator’s relentless pulsing driving her wild with need. Gripping the edge of her desk, Lisa cursed under her breath, her body trembling with a mix of ecstasy and frustration.

“I’ll make you pay for this,”

She growled, her voice dripping with wanton desire.

“Just wait until I get my hands on you.”

The vibrator’s speed increased to frenetic pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Lisa’s body. She squirmed and shook in her chair, biting her lip hard to stifle the desperate moans threatening to escape. Just then, a message popped up on her phone from Y/N, the words searing into her mind. ‘don’t forget, pet. You’re not allowed to cum, no matter what.’ Lisa’s eyes widened, a shudder of both fear and arousal coursing through her. The stakes were too high to fail now. Gripping the edge of her desk, she focused every ounce of her willpower on holding back the building climax. She would not disappoint Y/N, no matter how exquisite the torment became.

Lisa felt utterly powerless as the relentless vibrations from the toy tormented her, yet a thrill of wicked excitement coursed through her. She was at Y/N’s mercy, and the knowledge both terrified and enthralled her. Lisa surrendered herself to the exquisite sensations, her body trembling with unbridled desire. She had never imagined being dominated in this way, but the thought of displeasing Y/N filled her with dread. This was her chance to prove her devotion, no matter the cost. As the day wore on, Y/N continued to torment Lisa with the relentless vibrator, switching up the speed and intensity at random intervals. Lisa found herself in a constant state of desperate arousal, her body aching for release that never came.

Whenever the vibrations would suddenly increase, Lisa would have to bite back a moan, her hips rocking subtly as she fought to maintain her composure. The threat of displeasing Y/N hung over her like a dark cloud, fuEling her determination to endure the exquisite torment. By the time the workday drew to a close, Lisa was utterly spent, her mind and body consumed by the shameful ecstasy Y/N had put her through. Yet, deep down, a part of her reveled in the knowledge that she had proven her worth to him. She had endured, and that was all that mattered. As she gathered her things to leave, Lisa couldn’t help but wonder what other dElights Y/N had in store for her.

Lisa returned home, her body still thrumming with the lingering effects of Y/N torment. She approached Eli, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“Eli, darling, I’m afraid I have to go out for the night. There’s some work I need to take care of.”

Her gaze held a hint of mischief as she spoke.

“I’ll try not to be too late, but you know how these things can be.”

Lisa leaned in, pressing soft kiss to Eli’s cheek.

“Don’t wait up for me, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, she turned and headed for the door, her hips swaying with each step. The thought of what Y/N had store in for her tonight sent a thrill of anticipation through her.

Lisa practically bounced with excitement as she reached Y/N’s house. The moment the door opened, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she pulled him into a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you so much,”

She breathed between fervent kisses, her body trembling with pent-up desire.

“The way you teased me today, it was absolute torture. But I endured it, just like you asked. Now I need you, please…” her hands roamed over his body, fingers clutching at his clothes as she ground her hips against him. The vibrator still nestled within her only served to heighten her arousal, and she could think of nothing else but finally finding release in his arms.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as Lisa revealed that she had already removed her clothes, posing before him in a sultry, inviting manner. Without hesitation, she launched herself back into his arms, kissing him hungrily. Lisa’s body trembled with barely contained desire as she pressed herself against him, her hands roaming over his form. The vibrator still buzzing within her only heightened her arousal, and she could think of nothing else but finding the release she so desperately craved. Pulling back slightly, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her eyes dark with lust.

“Please, Y/N, I need you. I’ve been aching for your touch all day. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Y/N grinned wickedly as he reactivated the vibrator, causing Lisa to let out a shameless, pleasure – filled moan.

“Y/N, so you want to play with me, is that it?”

She panted, her hips rocking in sY/Nc with the relentless pulsing. Reaching down, Lisa gripped the base of the vibrator, her eyes gleaming with a mix of defiance and wanton desire.

“Then let’s play, Y/N, I’m all yours”

With that, she began to slowly slide the vibrator in and out, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Y/N gently placed Lisa on the bed, his eyes gleaming with wicked anticipation. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he increased the speed of the vibrator, Eliciting a desperate moan from Lisa’s lips. Settling into a nearby chair, he watched intently as she began to slide the pulsing device in and out of her slick, needy pussy. Lisa’s hips rocked in sY/Nc with the vibrator’s relentless movements, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pleasure was almost unbearable, yet she craved more, driven by an insatiable hunger for Y/N’s touch. Her fingers gripped the sheets as she herself harder, her body trembling with each wave of ecstasy.

“Y/N…..”

She panted, her voice thick with lust.

“I need you. Please, don’t make me wait any longer.” Her eyes locked with his, silently pleading for the release she so desperately craved.

For the next three hours, Y/N teased and tormented Lisa mercilessly, keeping her on the edge of ecstasy but denying her the release she craved. Lisa writhed and begged, her body trembling with unbridled desire.

“Please Y/N!”

She cried out, her voice thick with desperation.

“I’ll do anything, anything at all, just touch me. I need you so badly, I’m aching for you.”

Her hips rocked in time with the vibrator’s relentless pulsing, her eyes pleading with him to end her torment. Lisa was completely at his mercy, willing to submit to his every whim if only he would grant her the sweet release she so desperately needed. Her pride had long since been abandoned, replaced by a single – mind focus on obtaining Y/N’s touch. Y/N slowly approached the bed, his fingers tracing dElicate patterns over Lisa’s curved body. He dEliberately avoided her inner thighs and sensitive pussy, instead focusing on teasing her elsewhere. Lisa trembled under his featherlight touch, desperate for more. When Y/N finally brought his fingers to her lips, Lisa pounced, greedily sucking and devouring them. She moaned around the digits, her tongue swirling and caressing as she savored his taste. Her hips squirmed and rocked, the vibrator still buzzing relentlessly within her.

Lisa’s eyes were dark with lust, silently pleading for Y/N to end her torment. She would do anything, submit to any whim, if only he would grant her the release she craved. In this moment, she was his to command, her pride long since abandoned in the face of her all – consuming desire.

As Lisa greedily sucked on Y/N’s fingers, his other hand slowly trailed down her body, caressing her curves. When he finally reached her needy pussy, his touch was all it took to send her over the edge. Lisa’s back arched, a guttural moan escaping her lips as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She squirted uncontrollably, her body shaking and trembling like a broken toy. All the pent-up tension and desperation from Y/N’s torment had finally found its release, leaving her utterly spent and vulnerable. In this moment, she was completely at his mercy, her pride and composure shattered by the intensity of her climax. Lisa’s body trembled in the aftermath of her intense orgasm, her mind still reEling from the sheer force of her release. She gazed Y/N with a mixture of adoration and vulnerability, her guard completely lowered.

“Y/N”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“that was… incredible. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

A faint blush crept across her cheeks as she realized the depths of her own submission. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers tracing the contours of Y/N’s face. She needed to feel his touch, to bask in his presence. In this moment, she was his completely, her desires and inhibitions stripped away by the force of her climax.

“Please… don’t stop,”

She murmured, her eyes pleading.

“I need you, Y/N. I need you to take me, to use me as you see fit. I’m yours, always.”

Y/N brow furrowed slightly as he caught the implication in Lisa’s words.

“Always, hmm? That’s quite a bold claim, pet.”

His fingers trailed lightly along her jawline, his gaze studying her intently.

“Are you sure you know what you’re saying? What you’re committing to?”

Lisa held his gaze, her expression unwavering.

“Yes, Y/N. I’m sure. I’m yours, completely and without reservation. Use me as you see fit – I’ll submit to your every desire.”

She reached up, her fingers curling around his wrist.

“I need you, Y/N. I need to be yours, now and always.”

As Lisa had already lowered her guard, Y/N seized the opportunity, suddenly increasing the vibrator’s speed to its maximum setting. Lisa’s eyes went wide, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the intense sensations overwhelmed her.

Her body convulsed, the vibrator’s relentless pulsing sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Lisa gripped the sheets, her back arching as she fought to maintain control. But Y/N had stripped her of all defences, leaving her utterly at his mercy.

“Y/N!”

She gasped, her voice thick with desperation.

“It’s… too much! Please, I can’t…”

her words dissolved into a series of breathless moans as the vibrator continued its merciless assault on her senses.

Y/N refused to relent, instead increasing the speed of the vibrator even further. The relentless pulsing assaulted Lisa’s already sensitive, climax-wracked pussy, sending her into a frenzy of overstimulations.

“Y/N, please!”

She cried out, her voice laced with desperation.

Yet, even as she begged for mercy, a part of her reveled in the exquisite torment. She had surrendered herself completely to Y/N, and she would endure whatever he deemed fit, no matter the cost. Her pride had been shattered, replaced by an all consuming need to please him.

Y/N hovered his palm just above Lisa’s overstimulated, pulsating pussy, the mere proximity enough to send her spiraling into another intense orgasm. Lisa’s back arched off the bed, a guttural cry of ecstasy tearing from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

Her body convulsed and trembled, completely at Y/N’s mercy. She had surrendered herself fully, her pride and inhibitions shattered by the relentless torment. In this moment, she was nothing more than a wanton, desperate plaything, existing solely for his pleasure. When the aftershocks of her climax finally began to subside, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her eyes shining with adoration and submission.

“Use me, Y/N… I’m yours to command. Do with me as you will.”

Y/N laughed in triumph as he placed his hand mere centimetres above Lisa’s sensitive, pulsing pussy. The proximity alone was enough to send her spiraling into another earth-shattering orgasm, her body convulsing in ecstasy.

“Look at you, pet,”

He exclaimed in amusement.

“following my orders even when I haven’t given any. You really are insatiable aren’t you?”

Lisa gazed up at him, her eyes shining with adoration and submission.

“Yes daddy. I’m yours to command, always. Use me as you see fit – I’ll obey your every whim.”

She had surrendered herself completely, her pride and inhibitions shattered by the relentless torment. In this moment, she existed solely for his pleasure, a wanton plaything to be commanded and controlled.

Throughout the entire night, Y/N continued his relentless teasing, keeping the vibrator at a torturous pace and denying Lisa any true release. She was reduced to a quivering, desperate mess, her body wracked by countless, earth-shattering orgasms that left her utterly spent.

Yet even as she begged and pleaded, a part of her reveled in the exquisite torment. By the time morning light began to filter in, Lisa was a trembling, oversensitive wreck. But still, she craved more, her body aching for Y/N’s touch. She had become addicted to the dElicious agony he inflicted, and she would willingly submit to his every whim, no matter how depraved.

As the morning light filtered in, Lisa’s eyes fluttered open, only to be met with another powerful orgasm that rocked her trembling body. She cried out, her back arching as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. Y/N watched in amazement, captivated by Lisa’s beauty even in the throes of such intense ecstasy. He couldn’t help but marvel at how incredibly lucky Eli was to have such a stunning, insatiable girlfriend.

“Look at you, pet,”

He murmured, his voice laced with admiration.

“You’re an absolute vision. Eli has no idea how fortunate he is to have someone like you.”

His fingers traced the curves of her body, Eliciting a soft whimper from Lisa. In this moment, Y/N knew that Lisa belonged to him, body and soul. She had surrendered herself completely, and he intended to savour every moment of her submission. Lisa gazed up at Y/N with lust-filled eyes, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.

“please, Y/N, can I cum one more time?”

She begged, her voice thick with desperation. Without a word, Y/N simply placed his hand near her sensitive pussy lips. That was all it took to send Lisa spiraling into another earth-shattering climax. Her back arched, a hoarse cry of ecstasy tearing from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

When the aftershocks finally began to subside, Lisa collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent. But still, she craved more, her body aching for Y/N’s touch. She had become addicted to the dElicious agony he inflicted.

Y/N brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at the clock.

“Isn’t it getting late, pet? Shouldn’t you be heading to work soon?”

his fingers traced idle patterns along her thigh, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

Lisa’s eyes widened momentarily, as if she had momentarily forgotten her earlier excuse. But then a coy smile played on her lips.

“Oh, you’re right. I should probably get going…”

She trailed off, her hand sliding down to cover his.

“But I’m sure they can manage without me for a little while longer.”

With that, she pulled him closer, her lips crashing against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. The work she had claimed to attend to was clearly the furthest thing from her mind. In this moment, all that mattered was satisfying the insatiable desire that Y/N had ignited within her.

Y/N hovered over Lisa, their lips locked in a desperate, hungry kiss. As their bodies intertwined, he reactivated the vibrator, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, pet, if you don’t get to work soon, I’m going to have to turn this up to the max,”

He purred, his fingers toying with the device’s controls.

“Then you’ll really be in for a treat.”

Lisa’s eyes gleamed with wanton desire as she gazed up at him.

“Please Y/N… I don’t want to go. I need you, right here, right now.”

She ground her hips against the vibrator, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Turn it up, make me scream. I don’t care who hears.”

Her hands roamed over Y/N’s body, pulling him closer as she surrendered herself.

Y/N kissed Lisa angrily, dominating her brutally. His grip tightened as he pulled her closer, making her understand the consequences she would face if she didn’t leave for work soon enough.

“You’re pushing your luck pet,”

“If you don’t get your ass to work right now, you’re going to regret it.”

Lisa whimpered, her body trembling with a mix of fear and desire. She knew better than to defy him, but the temptation to stay and submit to his whims was almost too much to bear.

“Y/N, please…”

She pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“just a little longer, I need you…”

But Y/N was unyielding, his expression stern as he pulled away.

“Time’s up, Lisa. Get going, before I decide to keep you here all day.”

As Lisa began to remove the vibrator, Y/N stopped her, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Oh no, pet. You’re not taking that out just yet.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke in a low, filthy tone.

“You deserve to have that vibrator inside you all day, don’t you? It’s the only thing that can satisfy your insatiable little cunt.”

Lisa shuddered at his words, her cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. She knew better than to argue, so she reluctantly left the vibrator in place, the constant stimulation making it increasingly difficult to focus on getting dressed.

“Y/N, I… I really should be going,”

she stammered, her voice trembling slightly.

“But I’ll come back as soon as I can, I promise.”

With that, she hurriedly finished putting on her clothes, the vibrator’s relentless pulsing a constant reminder of Y/N’s control over her. As she stepped out the door, she couldn’t help but wonder what other dElicious torments he had in store for her.

In the middle of a serious meeting at the office, Lisa felt the vibrator suddenly come to life inside her. She fought to maintain her composure, her breath catching slightly as the steady pulsing sent waves of pleasure through her body.

Outwardly, Lisa remained professional and focused, expertly hiding the growing tension building within her. But internally, she was a mess of conflicting emotions - a mix of arousal, frustration, and a hint of dread at the thought of being discovered.

As the meeting dragged on, the vibrator’s speed increased ever so slightly, just enough to keep Lisa on egde. She squirmed subtly in her seat, biting her lip to stifle any telltale sounds. Her mind raced, wondering when – or if – Y/N would finally take mercy on her.

As the meeting wore on, Y/N suddenly increased the vibrator’s speed, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Lisa’s body. She fought valiantly to maintain her composure, but the intense sensations quickly became overwhelming.

Lisa’s back arched slightly, a muffled gasp escaping her lips as the vibrator’s relentless pulsing pushed her towards the edge. Desperately, she tried to conceal her building orgasm, but it was a futile effort. With a strangled cry, Lisa’s climax crashed over her, her body convulsing as she came undone right there in the middle of the meeting.

“Y/N!”

She cried out, her voice thick with ecstasy and desperation. The other attendees looked on in stunned silence as Lisa shuddered and trembled, completely at the mercy of her own unbridled desire. In that moment, she was utterly exposed, her shame and submission laid bare for all to see.

As Lisa’s body convulsed in the throes of her climax, she could no longer contain her shameless moans. The vibrator’s relentless pulsing had pushed her beyond the point of reason, and in her ecstasy-addled state, she began to slut-shame herself.

“Oh god, I’m such a filthy whore!”

She cried out her voice dripping with wanton desperation.

“I can’t… I can’t control myself. Please, someone, make it stop!”

The other meeting attendees looked on in stunned silence, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and morbid fascination. Lisa had completely lost all senses of propriety, her pride and inhibitions shattered by the intensity of her climax.

Even as she begged for mercy, a part of her reveled in the sheer depravity of the situation. She had become a slave to her own unbridled desires, and the thought of being exposed and humiliated only served to heighten her arousal.

As Lisa’s climax reached its peak, Y/N showed no mercy, further increasing the vibrator’s speed. The relentless pulsing proved too much for Lisa’s overstimulated body, and suddenly, she lost control, peeing herself right there in the middle of the meeting.

A look of pure mortification crossed Lisa’s face as she felt the warm liquid soaking through her clothes. She had completely and utterly humiliated herself, her most private functions betraying her in front of all her colleagues.

Yet, even in her shame, a twisted part of her reveled in the depraved situation. The thought of being so thoroughly debased and exposed only served to heighten her arousal, her body trembling with a mix of ecstasy and humiliation.

Lisa could do nothing but sit there, her face burning with a crimson blush as she waited for the vibrator to finally be turned off, praying that she would somehow survive the ordeal with her dignity intact.

As Lisa sat there, her body still trembling from the intense climax, she could hear the hushed whispers of her colleagues around her. Their eyes were fixed on her, a mix of shock, judgement, and morbid fascination etched on their faces.

“Can you bElieve this?? Lisa, of all people, having some kind of… breakdown in the middle of a meeting,”

one of them murmured, their voice dripping with disdain. Another scoffed,

“I always knew she was a bit of loose cannon, but this? This is just embarrassing. What a slut.”

The words stung, but Lisa was powerless to defend herself. She could only sit there, her face burning with shame as she waited for the vibrator’s relentless pulsing to finally subside.

In her ecstasy-addled state, a part of her reveled in the depraved situation.

But as the reality of her actions sank in, Lisa felt her heart sink. She had betrayed her own professionalism, her pride shattered by the intensity of her own unbridled lust. Now, she could only pray that she would somehow survive this ordeal with her dignity intact.

As night fell. Lisa stormed into Y/N’s apartment, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and humiliation.

“How could you do that to me, Y/N??”

she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“Intentionally debasing me in front of my colleagues like that? Do you have any idea how mortified I was?”

she paced the room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“I trusted you, and you completely betrayed that trust. Now everyone thinks I’m some kind of shameless whore!” tears of frustration threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she fought them back, unwilling to show any further weakness.

Pausing, she fixed Y/N with a piercing glare.

“You’re going to pay for this, you know. I won’t just let you get away with humiliating me like that. This means war.”

Y/N suddenly reactivated the vibrator, the steady pulsing sending fresh waves of pleasure through Lisa’s body. He fixed her with a taunting gaze, his voice dripping with condescension.

“If you’re so pissed off, pet, then why haven’t you taken this out yet?”

he gestured to the vibrator, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

“Could it be that deep down, you’re actually enjoying the humiliation? That you want everyone to know what a shameless little slut you are??”

Lisa’s cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and arousal. As much as she hated to admit it, a part of her did crave the depraved attention, the thrill of being so thoroughly debased.

“Shut up!”

she spat, her voice wavering slightly.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

Y/N chuckled, his fingers trailing alone her thigh.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea, pet. And I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.”

“I’ve invited the whole department to watch you squirm. Hope you’re ready to perform.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in horror as Y/N’s words sank in. The whole department? Watching her squirm and beg like a wanton whore? The thought both terrified and excited her in equal measure.

“NO, you can’t do this!”

she cried, her voice trembling.

“I can’t… I won’t perform for them. Please, Y/N, have mercy!”

But Y/N merely chuckled, his fingers teasing her sensitive flesh.

“Oh, but you will, pet. You’ll put on the show of a lifetime. After all, you’re my little slut, aren’t you?”

Lisa’s resolve crumbled in the face of his relentless taunts. As much as she hated to admit it, the thought of being so thoroughly debased and exposed only served to heighten her arousal. With a shuddering breath, she resigned herself to her fate, steEling herself for the humiliation to come.

As Y/N continued his relentless teasing, Lisa’s anger began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of wanton desire. All thoughts of her earlier humiliation faded, consumed by her insatiable craving for his touch.

With a desperate whimper, she pressed herself against him, her hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Please, Y/N… I need you. I need your cock, your cum, everything. I’m your slut, your greedy little whore. Use me, degrade me, I don’t care – just make me cum!”

her words were laced with a shameless hunger, all pretense of pride and propriety abandoned. In this moment, Lisa existed solely to serve Y/N’s every twisted desire, her own pleasure secondary to the need to please him.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Y/N yanked her head back, Eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure from Lisa.

“That’s right, pet. You’re my little fuck toy, aren’t you?? Now beg for it. Beg me to use you like the dirty slut you are.”

Lisa’s eyes gleamed with unbridled lust as she gazed up at him, her body trembling with anticipation.

“Pleases, Y/N… please, fuck me! I need your cock inside me, stretching me, filling me up. I’ll do anything, just make me cum!”

Y/N’s grip on Lisa’s hair tightened as he glared down at her, his voice dripping with cruel intent.

“You won’t get my cock today, pet. No, you’re going to suffer even more for it. This is just the beginning of your torment.”

Lisa’s eyes widened, a shiver of both fear and anticipation running down her spine.

“Please, Y/N… I need you. I’ll do anything, just please don’t make me suffer anymore!”

her voice was thick with desperation, her body trembling with barely contained desire.

But Y/N was unyielding, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, but I’m going to make your life a living hell, Lisa. And only when you’re begging for mercy will I finally give you the reward you so desperately crave.”

With that, he released his grip on her hair, leaving her whimpering and aching for his touch. Lisa knew that she was in for a world of torment, but deep down, a part of her rElished the challenge. She would do whatever it took to earn Y/N’s affection, even if it meant enduring unimaginable suffering.

As Lisa resigned herself to the torment Y/N had in store, he suddenly increased the vibrator’s speed, sending shock waves of pleasure through her body. Before she could react, he began thrusting the device deep inside her, Eliciting a desperate, guttural moan from her lips.

Lisa’s back arched, her hips bucking against the relentless intrusion. The sensations were overwhelming, shattering any semblance of control she had left. her mind was consumed by a haze of ecstasy, all thoughts of suffering and humiliation forgotten in the face of this unbridled bliss.

“Y/N!”

she cried out, her voice thick with wanton need.

“Please, don’t stop! Fuck me, use me, I’m yours! I’ll do anything, just make me cum!”

Her body trembled and convulsed, the vibrator’s pulsing and Y/N’s thrusts pushing her relentlessly towards the edge. In this moment she was a slave to her own insatiable desire, willing to endure any torment as long as it meant achieving the release she craved.

Y/N suddenly stopped all the torment, leaving Lisa trembling and desperate for release. He removed the vibrator and tied her hands, ensuring that she had no way to reach the climax she craved. Lisa let out a frustrated whimper, her body aching with unfulfilled desire. She strained against the bonds, but they held firm, denying her any means of self-gratification.

“Y/N please…”

she begged, her voice thick with need.

“Don’t do this to me. I need to cum, I need you!”

But Y/N remained unmoved, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

“Not yet, pet. You’ve been a naughty girl, and you’re going to suffer for it. Only when I’m good and ready will I give you the release you so desperately crave.”

Lisa let out a sob of frustration, her pride crumbling in the face of her overwhelming lust. She knew better than to defy him, so she resigned herself to the torment, praying that he would eventually take pity on her.

The sudden chill of the ice cube against her heated flesh sent a shiver through Lisa’s body. She gasped softly, her muscles tensing in anticipation as Y/N slowly dragged the cube along the curves of her skin. The contrast between the icy touch and her own burning desire was exquisite, igniting a fresh wave of need within her. Lisa strained against the bonds that held her, aching to reach out and pull Y/N closer. But the restraints held firm, denying her the rElief she craved. She whimpered, her eyes pleading with him to take mercy on her.

“Please, Y/N…”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I need you. I need to feel you inside me, stretching me, filling me up. Don’t make me suffer any longer.” her hips bucked involuntarily as the ice cube danced across her most sensitive areas, Eliciting a gasp of pleasure.

Lisa knew she was at Y/N’s complete mercy, and the thought only served to heighten her arousal. She would endure whatever torment he had in store, if only he would grant her the release she so desperately needed.

Y/N suddenly flips Lisa over, exposing her backside, and dElivers a sharp spank on her ass. Lisa lets out a surprised gasp, her skin tingling from the impact. She glances back at Y/N, her eyes burning with a mix of fear and desperate longing.

“Please Y/N…”

she begs, her voice trembling.

“I need you so badly. I’ll do anything, just don’t stop. Punish me, use me, I don’t care – just make me cum!”

Her hips grind against the bed, seeking any friction to ease the ache between her thighs. The humiliation of her pleading only serves to heighten her arousal, her pride crumbling in the face of her overwhelming desire.

“I’m begging you, Y/N”

she whimpers, her words laced with wanton need.

“This is my life, my everything. Please, don’t deny me the release I crave. I’ll be your perfect little slut, I swear. Just let me cum!”

To be continued……………

[ghostaholics]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.

Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.

It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.

And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.

But no.

Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.

Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.

Law of the jungle, plain and simple.

To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.

Incredible.

You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.

All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.

From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.

Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.

But somehow he did it with you beside him.

You try not to think about the implications of that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.

Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?

The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."

Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.

Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.

He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.

For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.

But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.

More witnesses.

Great.

Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?

Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.

Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.

Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.

"Say cheese."

An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—

"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.

You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—

"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.

"Aye, thanks mate.”

Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.

Fucking traitor.

"Knobheads—"

They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.

"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.

"Bite me, MacTavish."

"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.

"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"

"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.

And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.

"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."

"Sod off."

"He'll appreciate bein' included."

Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”

“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.

What.

There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.

Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.

So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.

Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."

Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"

There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.

But somebody else beats you to it.

“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”

Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.

There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.

And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.

But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"

"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:

"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"

"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"

"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."

"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."

He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."

Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 6/?)

Choosing your poison is easy; it's living with the consequences that truly haunts you. Silco's venom is intoxicating, and deep down, you know it will be the death of you, yet you find yourself craving every drop.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 7,6K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, light bondage, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, biting, possessive behavior, you are a prostitute, slight hints of reader's past, sex and restrained freedom being terms of a agreement, Silco (and Sevika) POV

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

━━ Sevika's Pov ━━

Sevika had two absolute certainties in life. The first was never to hesitate, because in the undercity, one second too long could cost you your life. The second, even more important, was never to meddle in Silco's personal affairs unless he directly ordered it. These seemingly simple rules had ensured her survival and her position alongside the most powerful man in Zaun. So why, in the name of everything sacred—or profane, in this case—was she standing there, hand halfway to the door of his office, reconsidering what seemed to be a trivial task?

The noise on the other side made her hesitate. Wood creaking, muffled but rhythmic. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on in there. Sevika raised an eyebrow, already feeling a mix of embarrassment and exasperation bubbling up. Seriously, boss?

She huffed as she debated internally whether it was worth interrupting or if it would be better to just come back later. She opted for the latter. It was safer—for both of them.

Turning back down the hallway, she spotted two guards posted near the stairs. "Hey!" she called, her deep voice cutting through the silence. "Don't let anyone upstairs, especially that blue-haired brat."

The two nodded without question, though one of them looked briefly confused before returning to his watch. Sevika didn't explain. It wasn't necessary, and she didn't have the patience to deal with stupid questions.

Back at the bar, she plopped herself down on one of the stools, resting her right forearm on the counter as she observed the nearly empty room. The night was already wearing thin, with only a few stubborn, lonely drunks still clinging to their bottles and cigarettes. She allowed a tired smile to slip, one that quickly turned into a low, ironic laugh.

If someone had told me Silco would ditch his paperwork to fuck, I'd have laughed in their face.

It was surreal. The man was the very definition of a workaholic, always with his head buried in conspiracies and strategies to keep Zaun under control. But two months ago, everything changed. Out of nowhere, Silco approached her asking about a decent brothel in the city. She didn't question it, because, after all, who was she to judge? Everyone needs a little relief now and then.

But things had taken an unexpected turn. She knew the girl—maybe too well. Those big, deceptively innocent eyes always hiding something. Sevika had always known there was more behind that angelic façade. Maybe that's exactly what had drawn Silco in. And, frankly, she even agreed: good taste couldn't be denied.

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter pulled her from her thoughts. The bartender was looking at her, wearing the expression of someone who already knew what she wanted. Sevika grabbed the glass and downed the amber liquid in one go.

"Another." she ordered curtly, pushing the glass back toward him.

As she waited, Sevika let her eyes wander around the room, though her mind was still stuck on the scene. Silco, so methodical, so controlled... and now? Succumbing to his own desires. He wasn't even completely sure that it was the same woman from years ago, and yet he orchestrated all of this to have her around. She wasn't sure whether to find it amusing or concerning. 

Whatever he's scheming, it better be worth the effort.

When the next glass arrived, she held it between her fingers, swirling the liquid before taking another long sip. At least tonight, she'd allow herself a few moments of peace.

"Tough night?" the bartender asked, his tone casual, as if he already knew the answer.

Sevika grunted, not even bothering to look up. Small talk was far from her priority. She emptied the glass in one gulp, feeling the warmth of the whiskey burn its way down her throat, momentarily easing the irritation brewing inside her.

"Is it true Silco's keeping a girl up there?" the bartender let slip, leaning over the counter with barely concealed curiosity. His voice was low, but the words carried too much weight for Sevika's liking.

She paused, spinning the empty glass between her fingers before glaring at him over the rim with evident impatience.

"Who told you that?"

"One of the morning shift guards." the man shrugged like it was no big deal. "Said they were ordered to let a woman in but not out. Thought kidnapped folks stayed at the warehouse, not here."

Sevika scoffed, rolling her eyes as she poured herself another drink. It was always the same with people like that: gossips who didn't know when to keep their mouths shut.

"She's different."

The bartender simply nodded, wiping the counter with a rag that, to Sevika, seemed more dirty than useful. Finally, silence returned, and she silently thanked the universe for the reprieve. Or at least for a few seconds. Because, of course, he couldn't keep his mouth shut for long.

"Wait! That woman, is she THAT... prostitute?" he asked, his voice laden with a curiosity that bordered on offensive.

Before Sevika could deliver a cutting response, a high-pitched voice sliced through the room like a knife.

"What's a prostitute?"

Sevika turned her head toward the voice, as did the bartender, and both found Jinx standing at the damned bar counter, hands on her hips and her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as if she were genuinely interested in the answer.

"How the hell did you get here at this hour?" Sevika asked, slamming her glass onto the table with force. Her patience, already worn thin, was nearly gone. "Shouldn't you be in your room or, I don't know, in your cage?"

Jinx made a face, an attempt at intimidation that wouldn't have scared a mouse.

"I don't live in a cage, you one-armed brute."

Sevika rolled her eyes. "Great. Just what I needed." without another word, she slid off the stool, grabbed the girl without any care, and slung her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Hey! Put me down, you savage!" Jinx started thrashing, kicking the air and grumbling like a feral cat.

Sevika kept walking, unbothered. She was used to the brat's dramatics, but her patience wasn't infinite, especially after the night she'd already endured.

"Keep squirming like that, and I'll let you fall flat on your face." Sevika muttered, an empty threat she'd never dare follow through on, considering how much Silco doted on the girl. "You're not going upstairs."

Sevika thought about how the situation had spiraled into something even more ridiculous than she'd anticipated. Not that she really cared about Jinx—"Babysitter? Not a chance in hell."—but the last thing she wanted was to deal with the trauma of a kid discovering what her "dad" did behind closed doors. Even Zaun had its limits to chaos.

Jinx ignored the threat entirely, her fists pounding against Sevika's back with as much force as her skinny arms could muster. "Why not? Is it because of that prostitute? I don't even know what that is!"

"If you stop squirming, I'll tell you on the way."

To Sevika's surprise, Jinx actually went quiet.

Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

Silco looked at her body, her hair spread over the table as he thrust into her from behind. He loved how her skin felt against his, and the way she moaned softly whenever he touched her. Her body was so soft and warm, and he couldn't get enough of it. He held her wrists tightly behind her back as he pounded into her, his hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. Silco could feel his own pleasure building up inside him, but he held back, wanting to make this last as long as possible. He wanted to savor every moment of having she beneath him, submitting to his every desire.

Silco's thoughts were a jumbled mess of lust and desire. He loved how responsive she was to his touch, how she seemed to melt under him as he claimed her body. He knew he was being rough with her, but he couldn't help himself. The rough, animalistic nature of their coupling was a stark contrast to the refined elegance of his office, and he reveled in the delicious contradiction.

As he fucked her harder and faster, Silco leaned down and bit her shoulder, leaving a mark on her skin, which made her whine even more. He loved the idea of claiming her, of making sure everyone knew that she belonged to him now. She was his, and his alone, and he would make sure she never forgot it.

"My lovely dove." he growled into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "All mine."

Silco felt her body trembling beneath him as he continued to thrust into her, his grip on her wrists loosening slightly. He could feel her pushing back against him, her hips meeting his with each stroke. He released her wrists completely and pulled her back against his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other snaking up to grip her throat lightly. He didn't squeeze, just held her in place as he slowed his pace, savoring the feel of her tight heat surrounding him.

Silco's mind drifted to thoughts of the future, he would keep her by his side for a long time, that was for sure. He had no intention of losing her and even though his thoughts darkened, imagining every single thing he would do to her, Silco found himself becoming increasingly tender with her. He wanted to worship her body, to show her the depths of his desire even though she was angry with him and technically just doing her part of the deal. But for now, he contented himself with the feel of her in his arms, her body pressed against his as he continued to thrust into her.

"That's it..." his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered to her. "You're doing so well for me."

He wondered if she knew what she was getting herself into, if she understood the depths of having made that deal. She herself had said that accepting something from him was not so different from agreeing with the devil, which ironically she had done. But then again, he didn't really care. All that mattered was that she was his now. The thought sent a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he thrust harder, deeper, claiming her body as his own.

Silco's hand slid down from her hip to between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed slow, firm circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He could feel her tensing beneath him, her breath coming faster and harder. He knew she was close.

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he whispered to her. "You're so beautiful like this." he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "It's okay... Let go. I've got you."

Silco continued to rub her clit, his fingers slick with her arousal. He could feel her tensing beneath him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And then, with a final thrust of his hips, he felt her coming undone. Her walls clenched around him, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. He held her close, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he continued to thrust, drawing out her pleasure for as long as possible.

Only then, when he knew she had finished, did he allow himself to let go. With a harsh groan, he buried himself deep inside her, his own release pulsing through him. He collapsed against her back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Silco pulled out of her slowly, savoring the feeling of her walls fluttering around him as he withdrew. He stood for a moment, watching as she collapsed onto the table, her body spent and limp. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, of pride, at having brought her to such heights of pleasure.

He moved to his chair and sat down, his gauze never leaving her as he fixed his pants. She looked so small, so fragile like this. It was a stark contrast to the strong, defiant woman he knew

He leaned forward and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her off the table and onto his lap. He didn't care about the mess, about the fluids smearing across his pants. All he cared about was having her close, feeling her warmth against his skin.He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. He could feel her heartbeat, slow and steady, matching his own. He knew he should let her go, let her clean up and rest. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to keep her here, in his arms, for as long as possible.

Even though the weight of exhaustion clawed at his every muscle, Silco refused to relinquish her. His arms remained locked around her, firm yet careful, as if afraid she might slip away the moment he loosened his grip. The embrace was neither casual nor fleeting—it lingered, speaking volumes in the silence. It was an act that could mean many things: dominance, possession, a fleeting moment of vulnerability. But most disturbingly, in a way so distorted it almost felt like sin—affection.

Her head rested against his shoulder, her breathing still uneven, the faint tremor in her body betraying just how far she'd been pushed. He rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.

She was undone. Raw. Stripped of the mask she so often wore—the provocative, infuriating facade that seemed designed solely to challenge him at every turn. Here, in his arms, she was something closer to her truest self, a woman laid bare by the weight of her own humanity.

And God help him, he enjoyed both versions.

The stubborn, sharp-tongued temptress who dared to stand toe-to-toe with him, who infuriated and intrigued him in equal measure—that version of her was a spark, a fire he couldn't help but want to stoke. But this? This quieter, unguarded moment? This was something else entirely. A glimpse of the woman beneath the armor.

His hand moved almost unconsciously, fingers brushing against the damp strands of her hair before trailing down to rest at the nape of her neck. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle, a rare softness that would have shocked anyone who knew him. And though he told himself it was a fleeting act of charity, of magnanimity, the truth was far more selfish. He simply liked holding her this way.

"You'll ruin me."

Her voice was barely a whisper, so faint it might have been lost in the stillness of the room if not for the fact that Silco was holding her so close. It was raw, unguarded, and it hung in the air between them like the blade of a guillotine, poised to fall.

He didn't respond. He didn't need to. Her words weren't a question, nor did they require an answer. They were a truth, a bitter acknowledgment of the tangled web they'd both willingly stepped into. And it wasn't as if he could deny it, anyway. Ruin was inevitable, and it was something she had said herself during their earlier clash. This was simply the echo of her own warning, now laden with the weight of their proximity.

Silco tightened his grip around her in lieu of words, pulling her just a fraction closer, as if to say, Yes, I will. And you'll let me.

"Rest." he commanded, his voice softer now, though still tinged with that unyielding authority that brooked no argument. His hand splayed firmly across her back, anchoring her against him. "For once, don't argue. Just rest."

Without resistance, she surrendered to sleep in his arms, her breathing evening out as her body grew heavy with exhaustion. Silco stayed there, unmoving, his eyes half-lidded as he stared out into the dim haze of Zaun's morning light filtering faintly through the industrial gloom. The sounds of the city, muted and distant, echoed faintly through the room: the hiss of steam pipes, the clatter of machinery, and the occasional murmur of voices far below. It was a sound he'd grown so accustomed to that it often faded into the background, yet in this moment, it seemed louder, more insistent.

His eyes drifted to the ceiling, tracing the familiar cracks and shadows that had once provided solace in the solitude of his nights. But this morning, they seemed to mock him. Unbidden, the memory crept in — that bridge, the suffocating smoke, the acrid sting of betrayal. He could almost hear the anguished screams and the crackle of fire, smell the blood and oil mingling in the air. That day had been a reckoning, one where every choice he made seemed to collapse beneath the weight of inevitability.

The bridge where Felicia died.

The bridge where Vander betrayed him.

Silco's jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, as if expelling the memory itself. He would not dwell on it. What was done could not be undone, and revisiting the past served no purpose. Regret was for the weak, and Silco had no patience for weakness — not in others, and certainly not in himself.

Still, the ghost of that day lingered at the edges of his mind, a specter of all that had gone wrong. Choices that had seemed so clear, so righteous at the time, had led only to ruin. The kind of ruin that left scars too deep to heal, both on the body and on the soul.

His fingers twitched slightly, tightening their hold on her for just a moment before loosening again. She stirred faintly in her sleep but didn't wake, her face soft and unguarded in a way that tugged at something deep within him.

Ruins were where he had been forged. And if ruin was where he would return, he would do so on his own terms.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

You felt your body sinking. The underwater currents were relentless, tossing you back and forth like a lifeless ragdoll as the darkness closed in around you. You realized the faint shimmer of the surface was growing farther and farther away. But, strangely, there was no panic. There was no desperation to fight, no frantic hands trying to reach for that light. Something inside you decided that here, in the depths, would be your final resting place.

The silence of the water, the relentless cold, the sense of abandonment. It all made a morbid kind of sense. You let your arms float beside you, surrendering to the darkness that clouded your vision.

But then, something changed.

You felt a tug at the collar of your shirt—rough and unexpected. There was no gentleness in the motion, only urgency. You tried to open your eyes, but the water burned your retinas, leaving everything blurred. Still, you could tell you were rising—fast. The muffled sound of the water became a chaotic mix of bubbles and currents. Something—or someone—was determined to save you.

"Stay with me, little one. Hold on."

Then you finally managed to open your eyes. The cracked ceiling, marked by softly dancing shadows, was the first thing you saw as you returned to reality. There was no longer the sensation of being submerged, nor the voice that had seemed so close just moments before. Vander's voice had felt so real, but now it was just a distant echo, as unreachable as the rest of your memories. A deep emptiness settled over you. It had been so long since you'd felt something like this. Maybe since... Well, better not to think about it.

Sitting up slowly, you took a better look at the room around you. It was comfortable, simple, functional. It had everything a room needed but lacked any personal touch, giving it a cold, almost impersonal feel. The lighting was far too dim for your taste, with shadows pooling in the corners.

That's when you noticed: your clothes were arranged neatly, as was your lower body, with no trace of what you had done hours earlier on that damned table. Silco had likely cleaned and adjusted everything. He'd even ensured you rested without wrecking your back, unlike before on the couch—ironic, coming from someone like him. On the nightstand, a pitcher of water and a glass waited for you, without notes, without explanations.

You poured yourself a glass, feeling the cool liquid soothe the dryness in your throat as you leaned back against the headboard. The weight of the situation finally hit you. You were screwed, weren't you?

For someone who prided themselves on being immune to Silco's games, who claimed—proudly—that they'd never be manipulated, here you were: completely caught in his web. And worse, you were here willingly.

But it had to be worth it. It had to be.

Your mind spun, piecing together the fragments of information you had gathered so far. Silco and his supposed "daughter." Jinx. It was impossible to ignore the gaping hole this story left in your reasoning. Silco had no wife, and absolutely nothing about the man suggested he could have maintained a relationship close enough to father a child. In fact, you might be the closest thing to that.

So why had Finn hinted that Jinx was a scandal?

You pieced the fragments together hesitantly, almost afraid of what it might mean. What if Jinx was... Powder?

The thought was absurd. Or, perhaps, not so much. After the night of the massacre, the only bodies reportedly found were those of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor. There was no trace of Violet or Powder. It was unlikely that both had survived, but unlikely didn't mean impossible.

What if Powder was alive? What if Silco had found her in the chaos and taken her in? The idea was horrifying, yet it made a disturbing amount of sense. Could that be the origin of the scandal? That Silco had taken Powder, turning her into the weapon he now called Jinx?

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts. It was all speculation. You had no proof, just disconnected hints. But it didn't matter. You would find out who Jinx was, no matter the cost. And if there was even the slightest chance of finding Violet or Powder, you wouldn't waste it. You had made a promise to Vander on his deathbed. You would find and protect his daughters, and Silco might just be the key to achieving that.

If the hunt for Jinx led nowhere, you could still use Silco's resources covertly to track down anything about them. Even if it was just their bones so you could finally have some closure.

You didn't know how long you sat there lost in thought until your own body protested from staying in the same position for too long.

Rising from the bed with your resolve renewed, you stretched slightly, your muscles still complaining from the strain. You crossed the room toward the door, but before you could touch it, it was abruptly opened. Standing before you was that same tattooed man from the previous morning, his face carrying the same expression of near-permanent indifference. He tilted his chin up in a simple gesture before saying:

"Silco wants to see you."

Without even waiting for your response, he turned and began walking down the corridor. You hesitated for a moment but eventually followed. As you walked, you noticed how the Last Drop was surprisingly busy for that time of morning. Men and women were engaged in various tasks, carrying crates, adjusting equipment, and speaking in hushed tones. It was a completely different scene from the almost ghostly atmosphere of the day before when you had arrived.

Not that you were surprised by this change, not after everything Silco had been pulling.

You arrived at the infamous door to Silco's office. The tattooed man knocked twice, firmly, before announcing: "Sir, I've brought her."

The response came almost instantly, and the door opened, revealing a familiar figure.

Ah, yes. Her.

The woman was there, her imposing presence intact, though her eyes carried a weary air, as if she hadn't slept in weeks. There was something both unsettling and captivating about her posture—her shoulders squared, her chin slightly tilted upward, as if daring the world to knock her down. For a brief moment, your eyes met. You held her gaze, tilting your head slightly, until a memory flashed in your mind like lightning.

Oh...

Now you remembered where you knew her from.

She seemed to notice your realization, but said nothing. She simply stepped aside, creating space for you to enter the office.

You crossed the room with the confidence of someone who felt at home—even if you weren't. Your steps echoed lightly in the space as you stopped in front of Silco's desk. He held some papers in his hands, apparently reports, his eyes scanning the text with calm precision. He didn't bother to look at you, as if your presence was expected but not significant enough to interrupt his focus.

You stopped in front of him, crossing your arms and shifting your weight slightly to one side. "Should I assume I've been summoned for something important, or did you just want my company this morning?"

He merely gestured with his hand, dismissing the two people still in the office. Yet, even as the door closed, he remained in that position for a few more seconds, calmly finishing whatever was written on the papers before setting them aside. Only then did he lean back in his chair.

"Well, keeping me company is part of your new job, isn't it?" His voice was low and velvety, carrying a familiarity that bothered you as much as it intrigued you. With a lazy gesture, he indicated the chair in front of him. "Sit. We have matters to discuss."

Without wasting time, you settled into the chair, crossing your legs in a deliberate motion, assuming the posture of someone ready to play at the same level. If Silco wanted to turn this into a performance of business negotiations, you wouldn't fall behind.

"I've been thinking." his voice smooth as silk. "Perhaps our agreement needs a few... adjustments. Some additional clauses, so to speak."

Silco leaned back slightly, his fingers interlaced beneath his chin, the posture of someone entirely in control of the situation. "But before we get to that, I think it's wise to review the main terms of our current arrangement. Just to ensure we're aligned."

You shrugged with feigned indifference, though irritation pulsed beneath the surface. Of course, you knew every line of that damned agreement. How could you forget something that had been presented more as an ultimatum than a real negotiation? When Silco proposed the deal, you barely had a chance to voice your opinion. Not that your opinion would have mattered much—the power in that room belonged exclusively to him.

If he wanted to, he could have simply imprisoned you, tied you to a bed, keeping you captive by force. In fact, considering Silco's style, perhaps he still might—but in a twisted way, involving power games and sex.

When he presented the contract the night before, the scene was almost comical. You weren't even remotely surprised to see that he already had the document prepared, flawlessly drafted, waiting only for you to sign your name. However, what truly surprised you was that he agreed to some of your conditions, though they were few.

"Go ahead."

Silco then pulled the paper from the drawer, placing the document on the table with the two signature spaces clearly visible: one with his name, marked by that precise and meticulous handwriting, and the other with your name, marked by the nervous haste of your rushed signature.

"You agreed to spend three weeks of each month at my service." he began to read, his voice low and laden with an authority that sent shivers down your spine. "You will serve me in whatever way I deem necessary. This includes physically, of course. In return, I will provide you with everything you need, as well as ensuring your safety and comfort."

He paused, his eyes following the text with the precision of someone who had recited these words countless times. His expression was one of absolute delight behind the indifferent façade; you could tell he was savoring every syllable he uttered. Every detail seemed carefully crafted to trap you.

"And during the fourth and final week of that same month, you will have your freedom. I will not touch you, nor demand anything from you. You will be free to do as you please, within reasonable limits."

Silco pushed the folder toward you, the gesture as casual as it was threatening. "Naturally, you will have an escort at all times. To ensure your safety and to prevent you from deciding to run. After all, I wouldn't want to lose my new toy so soon."

You took the contract, your eyes scanning the words you already knew. But before you could even pretend to conduct a detailed review, Silco's voice cut through the air again, laced with something almost playful.

"Now, dove." his soft tone masked the venom behind his words. "Please, say out loud what the consequences are for breaking your part of the agreement."

Your gaze shot up from the paper to him. Your superficial reading stopped at that sentence, your fingers clutching the document tightly enough to crease it slightly. Of course, he was going to demand this. It was Silco's arrogance at its peak, forcing you to admit the terms you despised aloud. His smile widened as he noticed your hesitation. He was savoring the moment—every second of your reluctance was a small victory for him.

"If I break the agreement, all the freedom granted to me will be revoked. I will be under your constant supervision, without any autonomy." you wanted to kick him under the table, but you forced yourself to continue without resorting to violence. "And I will be subject to whatever punishments you deem appropriate, with no right to question or refuse them."

You hated the way he looked at you in that moment. That intense, cruel gaze that made every hair on your body stand on end. It wasn't just the intensity—it was what lay beneath it. There was something deeply wrong about the satisfaction Silco displayed, the twisted pleasure in reminding you, silently, of the reach of his power in Zaun—and now, over every aspect of your life.

He tilted his head slightly, the treacherous smile playing on his lips. "And?" he pressed, his voice low, its softness nothing more than a façade. "Don't keep me waiting. Say the rest."

You swallowed hard, choking down the rising urge to unleash a string of curses at him. Instead, you responded with a coldness you didn't truly feel.

"You would burn the brothel."

The words were difficult to say, but you forced them out, trying to mask the vulnerability they carried. In Zaun, few things could really hurt you. With no family and no significant ties left, you believed you were beyond the reach of emotional threats. But then, there was the brothel. And Silco knew it.

Not that you particularly liked the work of being a prostitute. As you had told Silco the day you first met, it wasn't as though you had much of a choice. It was a job that didn't attract attention, and that was exactly what you needed.

But the brothel wasn't just a workplace. The people there, even if they weren't your closest friends, were something you could call your community. Co-workers, confidants on hard nights, people who had shared the same roof with you since Babette took you in. She gave you a chance when no one else would—a place to stay, a job to support yourself, a sense of stability in a world that seemed to crumble around you. And now, because of you, the brothel was in danger. Just like Kate had been... and you knew how that ended.

He leaned back in his chair with the confidence of a king on his throne, intertwining his fingers beneath his chin. "Ah, yes. The brothel. Such a charming establishment, isn't it? It would be such a shame if something were to happen to it."

"Just say what you want to add, Silco."

The words came out steady, but you knew they weren't enough to fool him. Silco always caught the nuances—the smallest cracks in your façade, the ones you tried so hard to hide. And there he was, with that almost imperceptible smile, carved perfectly to provoke you. It was the kind of expression that made you feel as though, somehow, he was always in control.

"Always so direct." he murmured in that slow, deliberate voice, reaching for a cigar from the drawer. The way he handled it was almost theatrical, every movement carefully calculated to stretch out your anxiety. "Well, the proposal is more of a suggestion. I believe it would be far more convenient if you moved into one of the rooms at the Last Drop. During the weeks you're serving me, you would stay there."

You blinked. Once, twice. His words echoed in your head as you tried to absorb the weight of what he was saying. When you agreed to the arrangement, there had at least been one small consolation: the idea that, at the end of each day, you could return to the place you called home. Your little space. Your bubble of freedom. A place where you could continue your investigation far from Silco's watchful eyes and maybe remind yourself that you were still a person, not just his "property."

But now, even that illusion was being taken from you.

"This is your way of keeping me under custody?"

Silco laughed. A low, rough, and dangerously amused sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he watched you with an unwavering gaze. The intensity of his orange irises, like burning embers, held you captive even when you wanted to look away.

"Keeping you under my custody?" he repeated, with a mock indignation so convincing it was infuriating. "Dove, you've wounded me deeply with such a heinous accusation. I thought we had something special here."

He lit the cigar with a silver lighter, the metallic click echoing in the heavy silence of the room. The scent of tobacco began to fill the air, mingling with the almost tangible tension. Silco took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh that seemed laden with satisfaction.

"But, if you insist on putting it that way..." he let the sentence linger, releasing another slow puff of smoke before continuing, as though savoring the moment for as long as he could. Dragging it out too much for your taste. "Yes, I suppose that's exactly what I'm doing."

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes—a gesture meant to be full of disdain but softening into an ironic smile you couldn't quite suppress. There was something about Silco—that poisonous mix of brutal honesty and blatant manipulation—that left you unsure whether you should hate him or just play the game alongside him.

Somehow, his cruel transparency made it impossible to be as angry as you should have been. Deep down, what you really wanted was to cross the desk and punch him, but instead, you just raised an eyebrow, defiant.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You stood up from the chair calmly, your eyes locked onto Silco's as you made your way around the desk. He, of course, followed every step with that sharp, almost predatory gaze. As you rounded the desk, you noticed the subtle way he adjusted in his chair, shifting slightly to track your movements as though he anticipated exactly what was coming next.

Without hesitation, you climbed onto his lap, sitting as if it were the most natural, casual thing in the world. Ironically, it was. Silco had, in an unexpected way, become your favorite "seat" and you were sure he was well aware of it.

"So." your tone deliberately provocative as your hands came to rest on his shoulders, "I don't think I have any other choice but to accept this clause. Although, I do have a few conditions."

Interest flickered in his eyes, but it was in the blue one that you noticed something new. His pupil dilated slightly—a reaction you'd never observed before. A small detail, but one that, in that moment, felt like a silent triumph. Silco leaned back in the chair, his body relaxing as though he'd already won the argument. He brought the cigar to his lips, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke to the side, away from you. It was an unexpectedly considerate gesture—almost... sweet, if you had the nerve to admit it out loud.

His free hand, however, didn't waste any time. His fingers began to wander over your body, gliding along the curve of your waist, lingering at the line of your hip, before settling firmly on your thigh. The touch was possessive, demanding, as if he wanted to remind both you—and himself—that, in this moment, you were his.

"And what might these conditions be?"

You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you reached out and, without a hint of shame or hesitation, took the cigar from his hand. Silco's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't protest. You brought the cigar to your lips, inhaling with the ease of someone who had done it a hundred times before—even though it was your first.

The bitter taste filled your mouth, and the smoke wrapped around your senses. You exhaled slowly, letting the smoke escape deliberately as you kept your gaze fixed on his. There was something intensely intimate in the exchange, a sexual charge you hadn't planned but now felt inevitable.

"I want permission to roam freely around here." you said at last, your voice calm but carrying an undeniable tone of firmness. "After all, when you don't need me, I'll need some way to entertain myself, don't you think?"

You smiled—that mischievous smile that had gotten you into trouble more times than you could count. It was the same smile that, in a way, had landed you in this situation with Silco in the first place. "A fair request, in my opinion."

Silco remained silent for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. He seemed to be considering your words, but you could tell it was more than that. He was savoring the scene—every detail about you. The way you held the cigar, your posture on his lap, the interplay of smoke curling around your face... He seemed entranced.

"Permission to wander freely, hm?" Silco finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with provocation as his fingers on your thigh tightened their grip slightly. "I suppose that's reasonable, but don't think for a second that I won't be watching you."

You maintained your composure, letting the cigar's smoke fill your lungs before leaning slightly closer to him. As you exhaled, you released the smoke near his lips, watching as his blue eye darted momentarily to your mouth while the orange one stayed fixed on you. It carried a silent threat, a void of unspoken challenge that seemed to dare you to keep testing his limits.

"That's more than enough for me."

Boldly, you let your lips brush against his in a touch so fleeting it was almost ghostly, before pressing a gentle kiss—light, without any intent to deepen it. But as you began to pull away, you didn't get far. Almost instantly, Silco's hand gripped a fistful of your hair, firm but not harsh, pulling you back to him.

And it was he who deepened the kiss.

Silco's lips crashed against yours with a demanding, possessive force. There was nothing gentle or hesitant about it; he was taking what he wanted, and you knew in that moment, it was you. His tongue invaded your mouth with unrelenting confidence, exploring and claiming every inch. The taste of smoke lingered on his tongue, the bitterness of tobacco blending with an unexpected hint of sweetness—a contrast as singular as Silco himself.

There was something more in that kiss, something that sent shivers racing through your body as he held you captive within it. The last time the two of you had kissed, it had been different: rage had clouded your mind, turning the contact into a fierce clash. But now... now it was something else entirely. There was still roughness—Silco wasn't a man who did anything softly—but the hatred, the defiance, was absent.

If someone asked why you had kissed him, you could lie. You could claim it was a calculated move to ensure he wouldn't rescind his agreement to your request. A strategic play, nothing more. But deep down, you knew that would only be half the truth. The reality was, something within you had driven you to do it, to seek out that connection again, even if you didn't want to admit it.

You provoked him because you knew Silco would take the lead. It had always been that way. No matter how much you wanted to, it was never going to be you who initiated. Not with him. The power always had to appear to be on his side, even when you managed to twist it to your advantage.

The cigar slipped from your fingers, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You registered the faint sound, your mind distantly aware of the minimal chance the ember might start a fire. Yet you didn't move to pick it up. Instead, your hands rested against Silco's chest, attempting to support your weight and keep your body from fully collapsing against his. Though, by the way he pulled you closer, it was clear that idea didn't bother him in the slightest.

A rough sound escaped Silco's lips—a low, restrained groan that you almost thought you'd imagined. Almost. His grip on your hair tightened, angling your head perfectly so he could deepen the kiss even further. His other hand wasn't idle; it moved slowly along the length of your thigh, his fingers pressing into your flesh with enough force to leave a mark.

When Silco finally broke the kiss, his lips began to trace a path along your jaw to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You couldn't stop yourself—your body arched toward his, as if responding to an unspoken command.

"Don't provoke me, dove," he growled against your skin. "You know very well what happens when you do."

You laughed, but the sound came out short, almost breathless. It was hard to concentrate when Silco kept trailing kisses down your neck, occasionally interrupted by sharp nips that left your skin throbbing with sensitivity. One particular bite was harder, enough to draw a small gasp from you. Your body reacted instinctively, jolting slightly in his lap—and that was enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from Silco.

From the way his eyes glinted and his grip on your thigh tightened, you knew he was just as affected as you were.

"Why not?" you murmured, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you tried to catch your breath. "We're already in position, after all."

Silco pulled back slightly, just enough for you to see his expression. The gleam in his eyes, especially the blue one, was a dangerous mix of amusement and something darker, more intense. It was as if your words had sparked a new idea in his mind, one he was clearly considering with.

"Why not, indeed?" his hands slid to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you even closer, as if it were possible to get any nearer. "Especially when you seem to enjoy this position so much."

Your fingers traced the contours of his face, exploring the unique texture of the scarred skin. When you reached the rougher, uneven area, you noticed something you hadn't before: a slight layer of powder there, likely applied to soften the appearance of the scar. You frowned slightly, intrigued. A question hovered on the tip of your tongue, but you decided to save it for another moment. After all, provoking Silco was always more interesting.

The prolonged touch seemed to captivate him, his gaze locked on yours as you explored his face with your fingertips. A charged tension lingered between you, and you realized that, in that moment, he was completely at your mercy—even if he hadn't noticed it himself.

"Well..." your voice carrying a faintly teasing tone, "You're the one above everyone in Zaun, so it's only fair someone gets to be above you, isn't it?"

With a mischievous smile, you shifted your hips slightly, emphasizing your words with the movement. The effect was immediate. Silco drew in a sharp breath, his own hips moving almost instinctively to match your motion.

"Someone has to keep things balanced around here." your tone suggesting the idea amused you. "Besides, you don't seem the least bit bothered by it."

His hands gripped your hips more tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh in a possessive gesture that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. He stared at you now with an intensity that made your heart race. There was nothing innocent about that look. On the contrary, the gleam in his eyes seemed almost profane, as if he were contemplating something both sinful and indulgent.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. The closeness sent a shiver through your skin, and his voice, low and gravelly, seemed designed to ignite something inside you.

"Bothered?" he murmured, each word weighted with a gravity that made your stomach flip. "Not in the slightest, dove. In fact, I'd say I'm enjoying the view from here. The way you look at me from above, with those eyes..." he paused, his warm breath fanning over your skin. "It's enough to bring a man to his knees."

You couldn't help the smile that curved your lips, a hint of amusement and even satisfaction at having him in this position. But the smile lasted only a second. Before you could even respond, you felt his fingers gripping your chin, firm, almost possessive, tilting your face so he could look directly at you.

The tone of his voice shifted. The soft murmur now carried a raw authority, irresistible, as though he'd decided exactly what would happen next.

"But I prefer you in this position."

The intensity of his words made something in your chest tighten—not with fear, but with anticipation. In that moment, you knew exactly where this was going. He tilted his head slightly, as if savoring your expression before continuing.

"Now, be a good girl and get on your knees."

Part 7

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please read. I said I'd be back and I'm going to give you a spoiler: the next chapter it will be completely in Silco's POV and with a dose more smut than it normally would have. So suggest kinks that you'd like to see written in this series (I already have what I want to write in mind, but if I see an interesting idea that fits I'll add it, remember I can always use your idea in another chapter) And yes, in this story we fuck with Sevika! Remember when Babette tells VI that she's a regular customer at the brothel? I took this canon very seriously, but don't worry, there won't be a love triangle. Btw did you like Jinx's quick appearance in the chapter? (and yes, technically she would know what a prostitute is, but in my canon I can imagine VI punching Mylo at the exact moment he opens his mouth to explain. Our VI would protect our little and innocent Powder) I'll probably be back next year so HAPPY NEW YEAR! See you again in 2025.

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[daryltwdixon]

Can I request some Joel Miller fluff? I thought about it being set when they're living in Jackson and Ellie finds an old Polaroid camera and she loves going around taking pictures. Joel being the usual grump he is gets annoyed at it and usually dismisses as being stupid. One day reader and Joel are sitting on the porch of their shared house, reader being curled up in Joel's embrace, her back pressed to his chest as they stare out into the setting sun and Ellie snaps a picture at that. Joel is just about to be his annoying self when he sees the picture and his heart melts. "I like that one" is all he says before putting the picture on his pocket, taking it with him wherever he goes 🥹❤️❤️

Joel Miller x Reader I Like This One

fluffy, grumpy jackson!joel, sassy/sunshine reader, establshed relationship, soft!joel (don't tell him I said that), Ellie Being a Menace™, domestic fluff a/n: thank you for your sweet request! i did shorten it a tad but hope you enjoy! im in my feels when it comes to being domestic w this man request masterlist

The porch was your favorite place in Jackson—the wooden boards warm from the day’s sun, the gentle creak of the swing beneath you, and, of course, Joel, his solid frame a comforting weight behind you. His arms rested lazily around your waist as the two of you rocked in slow, rhythmic motions, the quiet hum of an early evening settling around you.

"You're quiet tonight," Joel murmured, his voice rough and low as his chin tucked into the crook of your neck, "S'the same kinda quiet you get when you're schemin’ somethin’," Joel murmured, his voice low and knowing.

You smirked, tilting your head back slightly to say over your shoulder, "I don’t scheme, Miller. I make well-calculated decisions."

Joel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "That so?"

"Mhm," you hummed, "Like how I calculated that if I pestered you long enough, you'd finally come around and see me for the catch I am."

"No need for pesterin' there. I always knew, darlin'." his eyes are soft as ever as he looks down at you, a smile spreading around his lips.

"Well," you teased, nudging his cheek lightly with your nose, "still took you a while to get the hint."

He exhaled, the sound coming out more like a resigned sigh, "Reckon I just didn't understand why you wanted an old man like me is all."

"Joel," you murmured, shaking your head gently, twisting to fully look at him, "you really don't get it? After all this time?"

His lips parted slightly, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

You smiled though, warm and certain as your hand came up to his jaw, the scratchy beard tickling your palm, "I didn’t choose you in spite of anything. I chose you because you’re you."

Joel didn’t respond right away—just looked at you, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against your hip.

"Though," you began, smile turning playful all the sudden, "I did notice how you were always hanging around back then, all quiet and brooding."

His brow lifted. "Broodin’?"

"Mhm," you teased, a knowing twinkle in your eye. "I knew you liked me before you even admitted it."

Joel smirked, shaking his head in that exasperated, fond way he always did when you got him like this. His fingers brushed lightly along your ribs, making you twitch, and you batted his hand away with a breathless laugh—

Click.

The sound made Joel flinch so badly it could've been a gunshot, and you both turned toward the source.

Ellie stood a few feet away, grinning like she just won the damn lottery, Polaroid camera in hand.

"Gotcha," she chirped, waving the developing photo in the air.

Joel groaned. "Ellie—"

"Don't even start, old man," she shot back, smug. "That was the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. The way you two were looking at each other? Gross. But even I can admit it was still nice."

Your laughter bubbled up before you could stop it, your head falling back against Joel’s chest. "Let's see it then." you prompted.

Ellie walked up the porch steps and handed over the photo. Joel took it begrudgingly, barely sparing it a glance—until he actually looked.

The Polaroid had captured the moment in a way you hadn’t even realized. The way you were smiling up at him, eyes bright and full of something deep, something undeniable. But it was his expression that stopped you—the gentle softness in his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that had ever truly mattered.

"Well?" Ellie prompted, rocking on her heels. "You gonna admit that I captured the moment of the century?"

Joel exhaled, shaking his head. Then, without a word, he slipped the Polaroid into his pocket.

Ellie’s eyes widened. "Hey— what the hell?! I’m trying to document history, and you’re out here stealing precious artifacts!"

Joel shot her a flat look. "Ain’t stealin’ if it’s my picture."

"Your picture? I took it! That makes it mine!"

"Well, I like this one," he said simply, "So I’m keepin’ it."

Ellie groaned dramatically. "Unbelievable. You can’t just—ugh! Whatever. Enjoy your stolen treasure, ya big sap."

Joel ignored her, wrapping his arms around you again, his chin settling back atop your head like nothing had happened.

Ellie pointed at him accusingly as she began walking away. "I knew it. You’re a sap. A full-blown, grade-A sap."

"Go bother someone else, Ellie," Joel muttered.

She groaned, stomping her feet and walking down the road into the warm evening.

"You're such a grump," you giggled after she was out of sight, swatting his arm as it lay across your chest.

Joel huffed, but there was no real bite to it. His fingers flexed around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm startin' to think you like that about me," he said after a moment, voice quieter now.

"That so?"

"Mmmhmm," he hummed, his lips brushing your temple as he moved to kiss your hair. "You girls like givin’ me a hard time."

You tilted your head just enough to look up at him, grinning. "Can't speak for Ellie—I think she likes pushin' your buttons ‘cause you make the funniest faces when you're annoyed. But I happen to think you’re cute when you’re all flustered."

Joel scoffed, shaking his head. "Ain't never been flustered a day in my life."

You snorted. "Oh, please. Remember when I walked in on you tryin’ to fix the sink and you were swearin’ so much I thought you were conjurin’ a demon?"

Joel groaned. "That ain't flustered, that’s just a normal reaction to goddamn terrible plumbing."

"Mhmm. And what about that time I called you handsome in front of Maria and you got all red—"

Joel huffed, cutting you off with a firm kiss. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips pressed against yours, warm and insistent.

You made a muffled sound of protest—more out of principle than anything—before melting into it, your fingers curling into his shirt.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth barely ghosting over yours, his voice was low, rough with amusement. "There. That shut you up."

You blinked up at him, dazed, before narrowing your eyes. "You can't just kiss me every time I start winning an argument."

Joel smirked. "Sure I can. Seemed pretty effective."

You scoffed, "Unbelievable."

He just hummed, clearly pleased with himself, before dipping down again—pressing another slow, lingering kiss to your lips, then one to your jaw, then your neck, lazy and unhurried like he had all the time in the world.

"Love you, sweet girl." he murmured after the last kiss to the top of your shoulder.

"Love you too." Then, after a moment, you chuckled. "Ellie's never gettin' that picture back, is she?"

"Not in a million years," he sighed, patting the pocket of his shirt where the photo stayed—carried with him for years, transferred from shirt to shirt, pocket to pocket, long after the edges curled and the gloss had worn away.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[noorpersona]

Managerial Duties: Karasuno

The rhythmic sound of volleyballs being packed away and shoes scuffing against the polished gym floor filled the otherwise quiet space. Practice had ended, but cleanup was still in full swing. You, Yachi, and Kiyoko had stayed behind to help, making sure everything was back in place before leaving. The rest of the team was scattered around, gathering equipment and wiping down surfaces, their movements routine after countless practices.

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were putting away the practice net while Asahi and Suga worked on reorganizing the stray volleyballs left rolling across the floor. Daichi had stepped out to check on something, leaving you with the quiet murmur of post-practice exhaustion settling in. Kageyama was off to the side, sipping from his water bottle while keeping an eye on Hinata’s usual spot. The gym carried an air of mild fatigue, a contrast to the high-energy chaos that had occupied it just minutes ago.

That’s when Yachi’s voice cut through the calm. "Where are they?"

You looked up from where you had been wiping down one of the benches, catching the way Yachi’s brows furrowed, her gaze darting around the gym like she had just realized something was missing.

"Who?" you asked, already bracing yourself for the answer.

"Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Hinata. They’re gone."

Your movements slowed as you scanned the gym again, this time with sharper focus. Sure enough, the usual ruckus that followed the three of them like a storm cloud was eerily absent. Your stomach dropped slightly, already knowing that their silence was far more concerning than their noise. It was never a good sign when they were quiet—never.

Kiyoko sighed, finishing her task before speaking. "Can you go find them? They need to be supervised."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Aye aye, captain."

But you knew what she meant. If they were up to something—and they most certainly were—it was better to find them before they actually did whatever half-brained scheme they had cooked up this time. With a nod, you handed your rag to Yachi and stepped out of the gym, making your way toward the clubroom with a sense of impending doom curling in your chest. The halls were eerily quiet, save for the occasional squeak of sneakers against linoleum, and that only furthered your suspicions.

As you got closer, muffled voices reached your ears, their tones a mix of excitement and hushed anticipation. That was never a good sign. You pressed closer, listening as Nishinoya’s voice carried through the door.

"Steady, steady! Just a little more—"

You didn’t hesitate, pushing the door open, and the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.

What the actual hell.

Nishinoya was perched on Tanaka’s shoulders, gripping a bucket of water with both hands while wobbling precariously. Tanaka, legs slightly bent, was visibly struggling to keep steady, his teeth gritted in effort. Off to the side, Hinata was bouncing on the balls of his feet, fists clenched in excitement, watching the process unfold like a kid on Christmas morning.

Your eyes flickered to the bucket, then back to the three of them. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

All three of them froze. Nishinoya’s grip tightened on the bucket, Tanaka swayed slightly, and Hinata turned toward you with an enormous grin, completely oblivious to the growing sense of dread pooling in your gut.

"Oh! Manager! You’re just in time!" Nishinoya chirped, grinning like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar but still thinking he could talk his way out of trouble.

Tanaka groaned under Nishinoya’s weight, his arms tightening around his legs as he tried to keep his balance. "We’re gonna prank Tsukishima!" he declared with absolute confidence, as if this wasn’t one of the worst ideas they had ever come up with.

Hinata, practically vibrating with excitement, threw his hands up like he had just scored the winning point. "I’m the bait!" he announced proudly, beaming at you like you should be impressed.

You blinked at him, not even bothering to hide your disbelief. "That’s not something to be proud of. Why did you guys drag him into this?" You jabbed a finger in Hinata’s direction, because there was no way he had come up with this on his own. He was many things, but this level of reckless planning was usually Nishinoya and Tanaka’s specialty.

Hinata blinked, looking genuinely confused as he tilted his head. "Tsukishima?" he asked, his tone innocent. "Or me?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Never mind. This is a terrible idea."

Nishinoya, ever the stubborn one, pouted. "Come on, it’s perfect! Tsukishima walks in, bam! Instant karma!"

You crossed your arms, eyeing the way Tanaka’s legs were starting to tremble. "Yeah, except karma usually doesn’t involve potential concussions and water damage."

"Okay, but look!" Nishinoya beamed, adjusting his grip. "It’s balancing! We got this!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "No, you don’t—"

Too late. Nishinoya made the final adjustment, and the bucket settled, wobbling slightly before holding steady above the doorway. With a triumphant grin, Nishinoya pumped his fists—only to realize he was still on Tanaka’s shoulders. In a flash, he scrambled down, nearly toppling them both in the process. Tanaka staggered, arms flailing to keep himself upright as Nishinoya hopped off, landing with an eager bounce before spinning toward Hinata. "Alright! We’re good to go!" he whispered excitedly, rubbing his hands together like an evil mastermind.

Hinata gasped. "It worked!"

"It worked!" Nishinoya hissed.

You groaned. "This is still a bad idea."

But they weren’t listening. With a determined nod, Hinata scampered back toward the gym, his voice carrying through the hall. "Tsukishima! Oi, come here for a sec!"

Silence.

Then—

Footsteps, slow and steady, echoed through the hallway. Each step was deliberate, methodical, like the sound of impending doom marching ever closer. Tanaka, Nishinoya, and you turned toward the doorway in perfect synchronization, a creeping sense of dread washing over you like an oncoming storm. The playful anticipation that had been buzzing in the air evaporated, leaving behind only the cold bite of realization.

Daichi appeared in the doorway, and time seemed to slow. The bucket teetered precariously for a split second before tipping forward, a perfect arc of water cascading down in slow motion. The moment it made contact, Daichi’s entire frame stiffened, his breath hitching as the cold liquid soaked through his hair, dripping down his face and pooling in the folds of his jacket. His usually composed expression was eerily blank, too calm, too quiet, which somehow made everything infinitely worse.

Tanaka’s face morphed from exhilaration to pure horror, his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop out of his skull. Nishinoya’s grin faltered, his entire body rigid as his mind struggled to process the disaster that had just unfolded. And you? You could already feel the headache forming, your lips parting slightly in silent resignation.

Hinata, standing just behind Daichi, let out a small, strangled noise. "No, wait! Don’t—!"

Splash.

The air went still. Slowly, you peeked around the doorframe just in time to see Daichi standing there, drenched from head to toe. Water dripped from his hair, his jacket clinging to him in soaked patches. His expression was eerily blank, which was infinitely worse than immediate rage.

Hinata was mid-step, looking like he had seen his life flash before his eyes.

Tanaka and Nishinoya were frozen, as if staying completely still would erase what had just happened.

The silence stretched, unbearably tense.

You exhaled through your nose and turned away. "I told you."

Then, without another word, you walked off, leaving them to their fate.

Behind you, all hell broke loose.

"YOU IDIOTS!" Daichi’s voice roared, shaking the very foundation of the building.

"RUN!" Nishinoya shrieked, bolting toward the hallway with the kind of agility that came only from the fear of divine punishment. His feet barely touched the ground as he shot past you, arms pumping as if sheer speed could somehow make him disappear from Daichi’s wrath.

Hinata scrambled backward, hands raised in surrender. "It wasn’t me, I swear!"

Kageyama, who had been returning from the locker room, took one look at the chaos and deadpanned, "You guys are so dumb."

Asahi groaned, covering his face. "I don’t want to be associated with this."

Back in the gym, you rejoined Yachi and Kiyoko just as Daichi’s furious yelling echoed in the distance.

Kiyoko barely looked up from where she was stacking volleyballs. "They’re idiots."

You sighed, running a hand down your face. "Hundred percent."

[lostinlovingrevery]

You Set Me Free

Weapon X! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: Weapon X? More like Weapon SEX, amiright? Huh? Huh?

Logan gets some serious post nut clarity in this one

Plot: You'd been watching the secret research lab at Lake Alkali, searching for a way to save your husband who's been turned into a weapon. You find one night that your reunion may come sooner and more differently than you think...

Warnings: SMUT, 18+!, MAJOR DUBCON/NONCON/CNC ELEMENTS YALLS, Unprotected PiV, multi creampies, feral Logan, oral (F! recieving), logan sniffs reader a lot, mentions of fluids, rough sex, outdoor sex, a nice reunion I guess?, I didn't mean for this to go on as long as it did., yall are prob gonna judge me when you finish reading. Maybe this be seen as an analogy for sex connecting people? idk

Word Count: 4453

The wind blew softly through the trees, making leaves and branches rustle through the warm spring air. Crickets chirped rhythmically. Stars, nearly hidden by the green canopy of pine trees, twinkled in the night sky.  The forest was dark, and mostly quiet, save for a distant noise that was approaching slowly. A deer runs by - stopping first with its tail up, and a twitch of its nose, before disappearing between the trees. 

It was observing you as you walked through the forest, each step crunching the leaves and sticks underneath. 

You were coming back from an unsuccessful reconnaissance mission. Walking back to the cabin you were temporarily calling home. The cabin, conveniently located on the other side of Lake Alkali, allowed you to observe the activities at the concrete giant posing as a regular dam for the lake- when inside you knew the horrific truths that were happening. 

It’s been 6 months since you last seen him. Well, see him as…him. The real him. Not the weapon they turned him into. It pains you to see what they’ve done, and what they will continue doing to him. 

You deemed Logan the love of your life almost immediately after you met him- about 6 years ago. When he was brought to the mansion, he nearly pummeled you after running into you in the hall during his confused haze where he was trying to figure out where he was. After that, he was nothing but polite and apologetic, and soon you two got to know each other and eventually fell in love. 

You continued walking through the forest, your hand unconsciously moving to your ring finger, twisting and fiddling with the ring that Logan had given you. It was nearly a year ago when he proposed- and you two got hitched a month after. You were too impatient to plan a wedding, and neither of you was much for throwing big parties after all. You were lost in thought, not paying attention to the surroundings you have become so familiar with in the last 5 months. 

You didn’t notice how the sound of nature has stopped. 

Only the quiet crunch of your footsteps echoed through the woods. 

A few months after Logan came to the mansion, the team got into a nasty skirmish with Dr. Stryker and his group of scientists and military officials that worked under the radar of the U.S government, performing illegal and immoral experiments on mutant kind. It was found out that Logan had apparently been a victim of those experiments years and years ago, and he had supposedly gotten his revenge on Stryker, leaving the man for dead, wounded and bleeding, in the cold, secluded forests that Lake Alkali was found in. 

Only years later, the X-men find out the bastard escaped his fate, and had still continued his operations after successfully alluding and then tricking the U.S. government, which allowed him to continue his research. It led to a complicated scheme that captured Logan, your love. 

They broke him down and practically tortured him, turning him into the base layer of his mutation. A beast. A creature they themselves could barely control, having to create a device that allowed them to track his movements and monitor him- and make him come back to the base once the mission was complete. They used him for countless assassinations- another part of Stryker's plans, in order to gain more power over the government. 

It practically destroyed you. It took the entire team to talk you down from storming into the secret base of operations alone with your powers and wiping out every single fucker in the place, and saving your love- and the other victims trapped there. It was Hank really, who managed to calm you down, since his position as secretary of Mutant Affairs allowed him to be able to get to the right people that can help. It wasn’t that the X-men couldn’t do it, but Stryker's operations have grown, with a lot of loyal subjects and a lot of controlled and dangerous mutants- Logan being one- that would make things even more complicated. 

The plan was reconnaissance- something you quickly volunteered for. Someone who will stay nearby and observe the base- learn the schedules, the people- whatever information that could help. Your powers helped you with that, allowing you to get close and learn much information needed. 

Some days you’re able to get some real information, but other days- like today. It was dead quiet. The usual trucks moving in and out, scientists and guards on smoke breaks, talking about their plans for the weekend. You saw no sign of Logan, so you assumed they must be keeping him inside today, no “missions” for him to complete. 

You continued twisting the ring on your ring finger, a comforting habit that you have developed when you found yourself missing him. You counted the days when you’d see him again. Looking up at the sky, you noted how the stars always looked bright and beautiful around here. 

When will Logan get to see those stars again? 

You suddenly felt your hair rise along your arms and neck, and a sudden sense of danger was screaming at you. You stopped in your tracks, slowly glancing around at the dark forest that surrounded you.

When did it get so quiet?

Fear crawled up your throat from your gut, as you took a few steps backward, staring straight ahead. Something, someone was watching you. There were predators in the forests, coyotes, bears, whatever, you’ve encountered them a few times but never actually had an issue with them before. Whatever was stalking out there, hidden in the darkness and tree lines, was something you felt was more dangerous than a bear. 

Turning on your feet, you took after back towards the small cabin. Your footsteps echoed through the trees as you ran down the path, weaving through trees to hopefully throw off whoever was following you, someone was certainly following you though- because you could hear the sound of footsteps that weren’t your own closing in behind you. 

Your heart was pounding, blood rushing in your ears. You don’t know what or who was chasing you. The closer the sound behind you got, the more your limbs began to feel like jello- and you prepared yourself for a fight. It was when you turned your head to try to get a glimpse at your pursuer- that your blood ran cold.

You could see Logan, chasing you on his hands and feet. Snarling face, wild untamed hair, with that metal cage-like helmet on his head. He had next to nothing on, aside from some cloth that looked like shorts or boxers. He looks like an animal. You knew you would not be able to escape him- Logan was too fast. Just in the few seconds you had looked at him, he had already closed in several feet between you. 

You turned forward, and could see the silhouette of your cabin in the distance. 

Maybe I can make it

Your thoughts were drowned out by the loud growl emitted from Logan, and you felt your body being tackled to the ground. The harsh tackle knocked the wind out of you, and your head knocked to the ground.

You were barely able to comprehend what was happening, feeling a heavy weight pressed on top of you- at first you only saw stars, before Logan’s snarling face came into view. 

He was so different. His hair was wild and grown out, and face twisted and contorted into something you didn’t recognize, wrinkled nose and bags under his eyes. His teeth bared- his canines sharp like an animal. He looked at you with murderous intent- yet you couldn’t bring it in you to use your powers to fight back. You couldn’t hurt him even though you knew that he was likely about to kill you right then and there. 

You reached your hands up to cup his face, his own hands roughly grabbing yours and pinning them on either side of your head. You gasped- 

“Logan-” You breathed. There was no change in his expression- except…He sniffed. You blinked, staring up at him in confusion. He took another sniff, his face relaxing into something more bewildered, as he leaned down into your neck, and took a deep sniff, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck. 

Confusion wracked your brain, and then you heard him grunt. 

Wait a minute, did he recognize you? Your scent?

You always teased him over that. The way he liked to deep inhale of your hair or neck. He’d always rolled his eyes and smirked. 

“Can’t help it, princess, you smell so damn good all the time.”

You felt his hip press into yours, as he groaned again before his tongue licked against your skin, hot and wet.

You’re fucking kidding me,

Is he seriously getting fresh with you?

You’re never going to let him live this down if you get out alive

His nose brushed up the crook of your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your skin. His hips started to grind against yours. You’d almost laugh at the situation you found yourself in; if it weren’t for the fact that you were getting wet by his mere rutting over you. You didn’t know what to do, what the hell do you do in this kind of situation?

One of his hands let go of your wrist that he had trapped, and came down to grope at your breast, soft and careful at first, before he gripped it, fondling it roughly. His head came up to lick the space behind your ear. You swallowed, your eyes watching his every movement when it occurred to you that your hand was free- and he was close enough for you to rip off that helmet. 

You waited, letting him grunt and lick at your skin, keeping him distracted with…Whatever he was doing. You counted the seconds- hoping that Logan's superior senses were clouded by his pure animalistic horniness to notice the change in your body. 

In a quick movement, your hand reached up, yanking the metal cage of his head with a rough movement, and throwing it to the side. His head shot up - eyes wide and angry, staring at you and then to the helmet, where it rolled across the ground before finally stopping, upside down, a few feet away from where you and Logan were. 

Not paying you any mind he climbed off of you, walking on his two feet over to the helmet. You turned to your side, panting as a little relief climbed over you. 

Did you do it?

He bent over, picking up the metal cage, his eyes examining the object. There was a quiet neutralness in his expression, and you wondered if your Logan has come back.  He looked insane, with his hair and beard grown out, bulging muscles all the way from his shoulders down to his calves, cloth- which looked similar to some type of jean shorts was the only thing covering him- still, tight enough to leave little to imagination, you could see his erection pressing against the cloth. He looked like some rated R version of Tarzan. 

A beat passed, and he suddenly tears the metal apart with a roar. You watched in terrror- and slight arousal- as he raged against the helmet, tearing it into smaller pieces- shrapnel flying into the woods and landing on the ground near you. You could make out small pieces of electrical wire and circuit boards scattered in the grass and dirt. 

Bastards, you thought to yourself, as you moved to push yourself up from the ground. Logan finished his rage, yelling into the forests with a fierce roar that echoed through the trees and sent fear up your spine. You were up on your knee when Logan turned out- looking straight at you. Your stomach sank at the sight of his eyes- still wild and frenzied. 

It wasn’t him, whatever part of Logan you knew was still deep asleep inside the beast of the man you were gazing at. 

You were not safe yet.

You pushed up to your feet, and quickly turned to continue running back to your cabin. It was stupid, considering you barely got two steps before you were knocked down to your stomach. You attempted to crawl, but his hands grabbed your ankles, and pulled you under him- flipping you roughly onto your back. 

You didn’t have a minute to process when his hands went to your shirt and r i p p e d it apart. He ripped your bra apart too, baring your stomach and breasts to him. You gasped, your hands went to his shoulders, some attempt to regain control that was completely futile. 

He dipped his head down to your chest, his tongue running over your nipples, his hands roughly gripping your waist and pulling you onto him, grinding against your core. 

“Logan-” You gasped- your hand moving to press against his forehead to push him off you. “Lo- I know you missed me and all-” You say, some feeble attempt to calm yourself and your pounding heart to add some humor to this…situation you found yourself in.

He growled, shoving your hand off him as he lurched forward, licking and biting your neck roughly, making you whimper at the feeling of his teeth scraping over your skin. You attempted to crawl out from under him, but he held you in place. 

You couldn’t run, you couldn’t fight. 

You managed to turn your head to look at him, grunting and grinding against you. A deep part of you wondered if maybe there was some part of him inside that was reaching out to you. Did your scent trigger a memory? Does he recognize you through his animalistic haze, and he’s desperately trying to connect with you in the only way he knew how due to his brainwashing? 

It was Logan. He could never hurt you. 

He sat up, his attention moving to your jeans, a deep growl escaped him as he reached down and grabbed where you jeans were buttoned together and pulled them apart, ripping them open at the seams, exposing your panties to him, wet with your arousal due to his grinding and licking at your skin. He lifted your hips ups, face planting against your mound as he took a deep inhale of your scent, making you gasp. He stuck his tongue out, running it up your clothed pussy- and letting out a deep groan, almost a whimper.  

It made your skin hot, the way he groaned at the taste of you. You’ve heard him let that same noise out countless times, the way he inhaled your scent like you smelled like a fresh baked pie. He’d act like you tasted so sweet, like he could never get enough of you. 

He let out something resembling a whine again, and his hand came up, grabbing the hem of your panties and ripping them off you- the fabric scratched your skin- but you could barely register the pain of the fabric because Logans mouth crashed onto your wet pussy. You squealed, the feeling of his tongue running up and down your folds, not in any particular pattern, it was like he was drinking every ounce of you, unable to quench his thirst as you swore you could hear him audibly gulping your fluids down.

 His tongue came over your clit, making you involuntarily thrust into his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you- filled with a hazey lust, his brows creased angrily. His beard and hair scratched your inner thighs, leaving them red, but the juices of his spit and your fluids coated them as he carried on practically eating you alive. His nails dug into your hips, tight enough to scratch you. 

You felt your stomach getting tight. He wasn’t even doing anything particular to stimulating you other than his tongue running over every inch of your slit, occasionally dipping into your hole- pulsing around him. The wrongness of it all, the animalistic nature of him though- you couldn’t help it. You attempted to push his head off you, snapping out of your lustful state, I shouldn’t let this happen. Both your hands came up pressing his against his forehead, as you started to squirm in attempt to get away. 

He grunted, attempting to continue devouring you, before anger flashed across his face. He snarled, shoving you into the ground and flipping you onto your stomach.

“Ah! - Lo!” 

You yelped, as he pulled off the tattered pieces of your clothes still on you, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable to him. He leaned over you, his tongue running from your back up to the back of your neck, you felt drops of his spit on your shoulder- as he shuffled behind you, desperately pulling off his pants. You attempted to crawl away one more time, but his hands grabbed you, pulling you back under him. One hand went into your hair, fingers gripping and pulling your head back and to the side eliciting a cry from you, as he leaned down and bit into your shoulder.

His other hand, brought your hips and ass up- and you felt his throbbing member press into your soaked folds, grinding into you. His legs pressed against the outside of yours, your body tensed, your toes curling as you waited for the inevitable thrust. You knew this was so goddamn wrong, but your body hummed in anticipation and excitement. 

It had been a kinky pleasure between you and Logan, the way he would let his animalistic side out on you, pinning you down and fucking you until you nearly blacked out. What was happening now was no different, other than the fact that the Logan you knew was not there to control himself from going too far. 

His tip found your leaking hole, and pressed into you. He let out a harsh pant against your shoulder, where he was still biting down on you, before fully thrusting himself inside- a shriek escaping you. Your legs kicking from the intensity of him forcing inside you. It didn’t matter how many times you and Logan had been together- the size of him was always intense the first few minutes. Your body trembled, your hands digging into the dirt below you. You could feel his chest heaving against your back, and his other hand went and grabbed your hip, before he pulled out nearly to the tip, and thrusting back inside harshly. 

He began to pick up pace, the weight of his body pinning you to the forest floor, he was grunting with every thrust, your body bouncing with his movements as he took you with a ferocity you never felt before. His hands gripped your hair tighter, yanking your head back farther, as he moved to clamp down on your neck, leaving a deep bite mark in your shoulder that was turning shades of blue and purple, a whine escaping him as he continued thrusting. You felt him slamming into you, his large cock molding shape inside of you, and eventually you melted- pleasure fully enveloping your body. 

“Oh god- Logan-” You cried, hot tears pricking your eyes from the stimulation of him everywhere. 

It’s been so long.

You attempted to arch your back, trying to get that perfect angle so he could hit that sweet spot that would send you careening. Logan hissed at how tight you pulled around him. He let go of the clamp he had on your neck, pulling your hips and angling you to be practically folded in half. His large arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face into your mid-back, and you felt his drool falling against your skin, practically burning from how hot it was. 

He thrusted into you with an inhuman pace, you could barely keep up, your eyes rolling back as you felt your stomach tighten, your hole squeezing tight around him, and your thighs began to tremble. His tip repeatedly thrusted into you, hitting the sweet gummy spot inside you- and sent you over the edge. 

You cried out his name, as he fucked into you through your orgasm that seemed to never stop- you body shaking and you could barely focus on anything. He fucked into you one more time, and a loud roar slammed his hips into your ass, burying deep inside you and you felt spurts of his cum covering inside your walls. He kept thrusting, burying himself over and over inside you, making sure every bit of his seed is buried inside. It felt neverending the way he seemed to keep cumming in you. 

With a harsh grunt he finally stopped inside you, his arms still wrapped around your waists holding you tight against him. He was panting, his large chest heaving- your body still trembling. 

He pulled out, pushing and manuevering you onto your back. Your arms laid out on either side of your head, your hair tangled into the dirt and twigs below you. Your legs spread wide, as your combined fluids soaked your thighs and lower stomach and his cum slowly leaked out of your hole. The strength of your muscles felt utterly depleted.

 Your eyes took in the wild man sitting up before you. Sweat dripped down his body, your arousal from earlier covering his lower face and beard. His muscles flexed and veins popping out down his arms and stomach. He panted, as he stared down at you, his eyes still wild- but not as quite ferocious. Your eyes trailed down to his cock, hard and swollen already, his tip beet red and leaking generous amounts of pre-cum. You swore you could see him throbbing. 

Oh fuck

He climbed back over you, and you couldn’t bother to try to move. Your legs were spread wide for him, and your body was pliant. He braced his hands on either side of your hips, and thrusted back into you with a swift motion of his hips. You gasped, the feeling of fullness returning but not as quite overwhelming as the first time. 

He grunted as he begin bouncing in and out of you again. You were overstimulated, your heart was pounding in your ear, and pleasure enveloped your body as he took you roughly again. You could barely move, as his large cock moved in and out of you with ease. It wasn’t quite as rough as the first time, but you swear he was being gentler with you. 

You felt yourself relaxing this time around, letting him do what he wanted. Your mind pictured all the sweet moments you and him shared in the past together. If he wakes up out of this haze, break free from the brain washing- you’re not quite sure if he’ll remember this...Or how you’ll explain it to him.

He watched your breasts bounce with his movements, fascination and enjoyment in his eyes. If you hadn’t felt so weak, and fucked-out, you’d probably laugh. His hands grabbed your legs, the space under your knees and pushed them up towards your chest as he went deeper, angling himself inside you and once again hitting that gummy spot. You thought you were crazy, but you swore he was trying to hit the spot that made you cum the first time. 

He leaned back down over you, his chest pressing against the back of your legs, as one hand braced next to your head. You moaned, tipping your head to the side as you weakly brought your hand to grab his arm and hold onto it. He seemed to be spurred on by your moans, and picked up his pace, thrusting into you with a renewed vigor. Wet noises echoed through the forests as his hips slapped into yours.

You felt your body tensing again, a second orgasm quickly approaching, a white hot burning in your lower belly building up with each hard and quick thrust into you. He was whining, leaning down to bury his face into your neck, tongue coming out to lick the sweat off your skin. 

“Oh- Logan-” You whined, arching your back, and he growled, bracing his arms on either side of your head, pounding into you once more until you both snapped, your greedy pussy squeezing tight around him almost painfully, as he filled you up again with his hot cum. He yelled out in pleasure into your neck, as ecstasy rolled between both your bodies as he continued thrusting. 

Your body went slack, your muscles occasionally twitching from being pushed so far. Logan was panting, his breath hot on your skin. You felt him move, pushing himself up and looking down at you. 

You gasped at the sight of his eyes- his face. An expression of regret, and a little confusion. His eyes- It was him.

“Logan?” You whispered, your hands coming up to cup his face. 

“Baby I- I’m so sorry I don’t know what-”

You cut him off; pulling him down to kiss you. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. You didn’t care how it happened, why it happened. You just had him back. Broken free from the tortured recesses of his mind. His arms wrapped carefully around you, kissing you back gently, almost as if he was scared he was going to hurt you. You pulled back, looking up at him. 

“I missed you.” You say softly. He looked at you with small relief. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing hair out of your face. “I didn’t- fuck I didn’t know what I was doing. I just could smell you and then- you took that helmet off. I’d be fighting for so long and…” 

You shushed him. “Doesn’t matter. You’re back now baby.” You brought him down to kiss you again. “Typical that it takes sex for you to wake up...” You mutter. He let out an exhaling laugh. His arms cradled you safely against him. “You need a shower by the way.”

He chuckled again, looking down at you and looking up around him, then up at the sky. The relief that flooded his face as he saw the stars.

"I couldn't control myself. It was...Like I was trapped in my head, watching someone else control me." He says. "They'd do these things that send me into this...rage. Nothing would stop me. But no matter what I did....You were always in my thoughts. I think that's what happened. I think I smelled you and I recognized you somewhere...You got me free." 

[kinardsevan]

maybe, someday, love

oh look. i came up with a mini idea and decided to write it instead of sleeping. enjoy! cw: hospitalization, helicopter crash, related injuries; word count: 1195

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Hey, Tommy.” 

The room smells of antiseptic and bleach, with an undertone of metal and plastic. It brings up memories of a life before, one no longer lived, left in the past, and is just the slightest bit triggering. But that doesn’t matter right now. 

Maddie curls her fingers around the man’s much larger, bandaged hand as she sniffles. Her hand isn’t even big enough to envelop all of his, but that doesn’t matter in the moment. 

“I know we didn’t talk much before the break-up,” she states, staring down at his fingers. The dried blood around his cuticles, where it was too tight in the crevices to completely wipe away stares back at her like a bloodstain on a white sheet. Her heart clenches, and she reminds herself that she needs to remain calm for the baby inside of her. 

“A-and I’d really like to change that, given the option,” she continues. The rhythmic drone of the ECG and the ventilator keep pace with each other while she tries to tune them out. She chews on the inside of her bottom lip, all too aware of the way the tissue between her teeth has become tough from repeatedly running it between her teeth in the past few days. She inhales a shaky breath as she runs her thumb over his fingers, turns his hand over and stares down at where there coud inevitably be a wedding ring at some point. 

“He doesn’t really let people call him Evan,” she says softly as she continues to stare down at his hand. “I think when were growing up, he didn’t really hear it in a loving way a whole lot of the time, and after I left for Boston…” She pauses, sniffling as a fresh round of tears hits her and run over her cheeks of their own volition. She clears her throat as best she can. “After I left for Boston, I think he felt really invisible. I don’t really know that he stopped feeling invisible until he got here. And I know there’s a wealth of weight beneath all of that—the things he did and put up with to feel just a little less invisible. 

“I think… I think becoming Buck was a version of himself where he could be someone else,” she comments. She trails her gaze up his bruised, scraped, and bloodied arm to his body, covered by a hospital gown, his neck, and then his face, just as bruised and covered in cuts and scrapes. “He said to me once that being a firefighter is the only thing that he’d ever done that mattered, and how much that drove his determination to get back to it. And I know now that he did that because it made him feel seen.” 

She pauses in her speaking, eyes trailing to the ECG and watching the continuous wave of Tommy’s heartbeat. She lifts her free hand to her throat, rubbing the sides of it a few times to try and soothe away the ache formed from the combination of crying so much, and the weight of the emotion still crushing down on her chest. 

“Until he met you,” she rasps. “And don’t get me wrong—when he said that you broke up with him, I told him to move on, but I think you know a little bit why I’d just want him to be happy. When I realized just how deep into it you two were, I was the one who encouraged him to go after you…” She pauses again, forcing down another deep breath and soft ‘whew’, squeezing Tommy’s fingers lightly. “Which makes it really hard to feel like this isn’t my fault.” 

She feels the familiar popping sensations in her stomach, alerting her that her unborn child is shifting around, and her free hand drifts to the curve, stroking gently. 

“I know that in the grand scheme of things for you, I’m basically nobody,” she comments. “But…” She sniffles, not bothering to fight with wiping the tears on her face anymore. “Evan isn’t doing so well, and… truth be told, I don’t know that he would fight to come back to anyone as hard as he would for you. I also don’t know that he would be able to find the fight without you. So please wake up. I know there are people here who love you, and people here who want the chance to get to love you. I don’t want to watch my brother only get months with the love of his life when he deserves decades. You both do.” 

She squeezes his fingers once more before releasing them and pushing up out of her chair. She walks to the door and stops she reaches it, glancing back at him and then the ECG again. It continues to beep rhythmically along with the ventilator, and her bottom lip trembles as she opens the door, stepping into the waiting arms of her husband as Hen passes her with a pat on the shoulder before walking into Tommy’s room to hold vigil. 

. . . 

“I’m so sorry,  I got out as soon as I could,” Eddie says, dropping his duffle on the floor as he reaches Chimney’s side. “Any word?” 

The older man shakes his head as he stares into the hospital room. He glances over at Eddie, takes him in briefly, before they’re both staring back through the window at Bobby, Maddie, and Evan. 

“No change,” he replies wearily. “They’re trying to wean Tommy off sedation, but it’s not going well, and Buck has seized three times. They’re saying it’s not critical right now, but-..” 

“This wasn’t supposed to be the result of Buck going after him,” Eddie murmurs. 

There’s shuffling behind them and then a ‘hey, Howie,’ that draws both fo their attention. A man taller than both of them but shorter than both Buck and Tommy walks up and Eddie eyes him curiously as Chimney gives the man a sympathetic half-smile. 

“Sal, hey,” he greets wearily, extending a hand to the other man. 

“I got off shift as soon as I could,” the other man comments. “122’s running thin right now. Have you been down the hall yet?” 

Chimney nods. “You should check in with the doctor. They’re not telling us much.” 

“I will,” Sal replies. He glances up through the window. “How’s the kid?” 

Chimney and Eddie both shake their head at him. 

“Does anybody even know what the hell they were doing up there,” Eddie asks. Chimney shakes his head and Sal shrugs when they both look at him. 

“He mentioned planning on flying to try and get out of his head, but I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind.” When both Chimney and Eddie keep staring at him skeptically, he glares at them. “No. If there’s one thing I’m sure on, it’s that Tommy would do the opposite of putting the kid in danger. He’d work directly against that to keep him out of danger.” 

Chimney looks back towards Evan’s hospital room and Eddie gulps. 

“If this is less danger, then I don’t want to know what the worst result could’ve been.” 

[player279achlys]

The golden rabbit’s legacy (Hwang In-Ho x fem! reader)

Il-nam’s granddaughter taking his legacy and falling in love with the Frontman.

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x Original!female!Character

Summary: In the shadow of her grandfather’s empire of death, Melinoe, the brilliant granddaughter of Oh Il-Nam, steps into the blood-soaked legacy of the Squid Games. Determined to honor her family’s name, she rises as the most cunning and ruthless hostess the games have ever seen. But with power comes danger—not only from the players and scheming VIPs but from Hwang In-Ho, the enigmatic Front Man whose obsession with her knows no bounds.

As Melinoe reshapes the games into her own vision of twisted justice, she must navigate deadly alliances, unrelenting VIP attention, and In-Ho’s possessive devotion. When her grandfather enters the arena and Gi-Hun fights to survive, the stakes reach a breaking point.

Can you control the games without letting them destroy you—and will love be your salvation or your undoing?

Previous chapter: Introduction

Next chapter: Chapter I

Warnings: afab!, angst. Fear of losing someone. Smut (light kinda), grumpy x sunshine, dark romance, age gap, possessive, obsessed, paranoid and dominant In-Ho, daddy issues, yandere behaviour, jealousy, violence, murder, typical squid game stuff.

English isn’t my first language, if there are any mistakes, please forgive me. :)

Prologue:

The year was 2019, and the 32nd Squid Games loomed like a specter over a remote island cloaked in secrecy. Within the cold steel walls of the control room, Hwang In-Ho sat in his dark brown leather chair, the geometric lines of his mask casting sharp shadows against his pristine black suit. His gloved hands drummed rhythmically on the desk, though his thoughts were far from the screens flickering before him.

Ever since Oh Il-Nam had mentioned her, the granddaughter he adored, a storm had brewed within In-Ho’s chest. Melinoe. The name rolled through his mind like a haunting melody. A law graduate, fiercely intelligent and ambitious, and now, his obsession. For two years, he had watched over her from the shadows, keeping her safe from the treacherous world he inhabited. No boyfriends. No suitors. No threats. He ensured that. Every time someone tried to draw near, they vanished, erased from her life like an ink smudge wiped clean.

And now, she was here—on the island, no longer a distant specter but flesh and blood. She had arrived to take her place as her grandfather’s successor, a role that made his blood run cold. She couldn’t be part of this. Not her.

Melinoe gazed out of the helicopter window, her heart a mixture of dread and determination. The turquoise waves below seemed endless, their beauty a cruel irony against the darkness she was plunging into. Beside her, Oh Il-Nam sat, his frail frame betraying the vitality of his sharp mind. He was explaining the games, their origins, and their grim purpose with a calmness that unnerved her.

“I know this is overwhelming, Melinoe,” her grandfather said, his voice rasping. “But this is our legacy. It’s what we’ve built for generations to come. You’ll understand.”

“I already understand,” she replied, her tone resolute. “But I want to earn it. No favors, no shortcuts.”

Il-Nam’s lips curled into a smile, both proud and wistful. “You remind me of myself.”

As they landed, Melinoe’s sharp eyes scanned the compound. Guards in crimson suits stood at attention, their masked faces obscuring any hint of humanity. Among them, one figure stood out. A tall man clad in black, his geometric mask as foreboding as the aura he exuded.

In-Ho.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding attention, though his voice was measured when he greeted them. “Welcome. Everything has been prepared for your stay.

Melinoe felt a shiver run through her. His tone was polite, but there was something in it—a weight, a gravity that spoke of authority and… something else. Their eyes met briefly, and though his mask hid his face, she swore she could feel his gaze piercing through her.

In-Ho’s footsteps echoed through the sterile halls as he made his way to the control room. The image of her lingered in his mind—her bright eyes, the way she carried herself with an air of determination that only deepened his obsession. She was sunshine, pure and radiant, and he was the storm cloud that threatened to swallow her whole.

He didn’t want her here. She didn’t belong in this hell. But she was resolute, and In-Ho knew better than anyone that once a player entered the game, there was no turning back.

Hours later, he found her in the observation lounge, studying the compound’s layout on a tablet. The room’s dim lighting cast a soft glow over her, accentuating her features. She looked up as he entered, offering him a polite smile.

“You must be the famous Front Man,” she said, her voice teasing yet respectful.

“And you must be Melinoe,” he replied, his tone neutral.

“Eun-Seol,” she corrected, her lips curling into a smirk. “That’s the name I’ll use in the games.”

“You’re not joining,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

Her brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not joining,” he repeated, stepping closer. “This isn’t a game for someone like you.”

Her temper flared. “Someone like me? You mean someone who isn’t desperate? Someone who doesn’t fit the narrative of redemption or revenge?” She stood, her chin held high. “If you think I’m going to sit on the sidelines while others risk their lives, you’re mistaken.”

In-Ho’s hands clenched at his sides. He loomed over her, his voice a low growl. “Do you have any idea what you’re stepping into? What these games will do to you?”

“I know exactly what I’m stepping into,” she shot back. “And I’m not afraid.”

Their gazes locked, the air between them charged with tension. For a moment, In-Ho allowed himself to admire her fire, even as it stoked the flames of his own desire. She was intoxicating, infuriating, and utterly irresistible.

Still not used to write on tumblr but HOPE you like this. On the previous story over 50 people liked it. I love you all so much <3

I hope to see you in here too. Hopefully you like it.

[lotuseye]

KINKTOBER 2024, I DIDN'T CHANGE MY NUMBER.

don't take it out on me, i'm out of sympathy for you. maybe you should leave, before i get too mean and take it out on you ( and your best friend too! )

suguru geto & satoru gojo. it was so, so difficult to put up with satoru sometimes- especially when every 9 of the 10 words that left his mouth was lies and excuses. in a particularly rough patch where there seems to be a whose-d*ck-is-bigger contest between the two stubborn idiots, she runs into geto in the bar they frequent and decides he deserves an earful for enabling gojo to be atrocious- but a torture can come in various forms, can't it?

word   count:   6902.

genre:   one-shot, kinktober product.

characters:   suguru geto & satoru gojo & reader.

notes:   hi so this is an insane idea that i could not help but write. satoru being a bad boyfriend. suguru being an even worse friend. pr*ise. degr*dation. kind of ch*king. car s*x. pet names. mean dom!gojo. submissive leaning p*ssydrunk switch!geto. switch!reader. dont even perceive me with this one i have no clue how we got here even.

“ you are such an… such an asshole.” 

“ and your learning curve is horizontal, sweetness- i don’t recall you leavin’ me.” 

the liar, the bitch and the master manipulator, she hated every single bone in satoru’s body. 

well, except the one he was burying her to the sheets with. 

the same old unfinished story of broken promises, it is a rinse and repeat now with the vibrant colors of their relationship is diluting in the waters of exhaustion and exasperation. oh it was limitless alright, the number of times he could have let her free fall from the tallest skyscraper of tokyo and be forgiven with how he catches her right before the fall, a honeyed coo or two in her ear. no language on the face of earth is adequate when it comes to explaining the way satoru exists on the axis of the world he’s tilted, but the words detached & displaced are the first ones that come to mind. she is simply one of the many things bound to be lost in the infinity between him and the space he occupies, a hard-swallowed pill that she couldn’t still digest even when he had his veined hands splayed on the curve of her hips, his steel of a bicep pressing against her throat as the bed rhythmically creaked beneath them. 

it felt too good, and he knew it- he knew he had her when she left that airy sigh into the pillow she had been drooling in with the spot he found without effort, he knew he had her when she preened underneath him with her shoulderblades against his ribs. it’s lazy, lazier than satoru usually indulges in, his hips maintaining an angle that let him bully the spongy g-spot tucked between the snug walls with such fervor that he has her reeling with each languid thrust. his damp locks are tickling the nape of her neck, the beads of sweat collecting at the conjunction of their limbs, wetting the already messed sheets. she can hear each grunt, each breath of his, feel it vibrate in her chest. the same old tale, he does something rancid enough to piss her off and then instead of an apology he fucks her until she forgot what she was mad about in the first place, but like any trick, it has a point where the audience tires of the repetitive schemes. 

“my baby’s pissed at me, huh? would ya’ look at that. ” he coos, his mouth pressed against the junction of her jugular and her neck, his mouth wet. she has no choice but to listen, no choice but to take it- he doesn’t leave anywhere for her to escape, having her stuck beneath the mattress and his heavy figure, with her throat sitting tight and cozy in the crook of the arm he has wrapped around her neck like a shackle. her maroon nails are digging into his sinewy forearm until crescent moons shine with a painful pink color and it is not only a rightful response to the merciless pounding, but also a subconscious punishment, a silent outlet of her anger.

satoru doesn’t like that. 

the position shifts, the man atop her whining rather dramatically before his weight lifts off of her. “ naughty girl, so ungrateful.” he chastises breathlessly, and just when she thinks she’s free of the torment she can’t stop cumming from, he yanks her up by the fat of her hips, propping her up on her knees but her attempts to rise on her hands is strictly prohibited, satoru lets out a “ tch tch,” as he catches both her wrists in one large palm to cross them on the small of her back, right in the middle of the twin dimples before his empty hand grasps the nape of her neck and push her face into the sage green, satin pillowcase she had been moaning into few moments ago, burying himself to the hilt in one go simultaneously. “ this is why we can’t have nice things,” he clicks his tongue, and she can almost see the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, all educated deductions from the way he speaks through his gritted teeth. complain he might, but he cannot deny that he lives for the thrill of her, lives for the thrill of having her in his bed, the taste of cherry lipgloss stuck in the back of his throat and her laughter his favorite siren song. “ because you don’t appreciate ‘em, baby.” 

“ don’t even start-” she groans, and his hips snap harsher the next time as a silent yet effective method of shutting her up, liking her pliant and obedient as always. “ sorry, what was that?” he leans over, asking with a faux undertone of surprise in his tone. “ can’t hear you over the sound of her, babe,” he pulls out temporarily, just to bring his palm down for a hard smack on her swollen cunt, only pleased when he hears her cry out and shudder to grasp the base of his painfully hard cock and nudge it right back inside her to resume. “ wanna’ repeat that f’ me?” 

but she can’t, her vision already having painted white as she stiffens and seizes with a whimper choked on her throat, clenching around satoru impossibly as her climax pulls her right under the crashing wave, a steady ringing in her ear that deafens her briefly- she can call him every single name under the sun and he’d deserve each one of them, but she cannot deny that the bastard has a way of pushing her to the brink of feelings & sensations she didn’t know was possible. it’s what makes it all so alluring, it’s what makes her heart swell with the ease of familiar affection when he follows her almost immediately, his hips slapping against the back of her thighs faster as he falters, the feeling of wet ropes fill her to the brim a one that makes her toes curl, a nice warmth spreading through her system. 

“ why are you adamantly trying to get me to leave you?” she asks, breathless, rolling to her back- her knees hurt, and she’s definitely pulled a muscle in her neck with how strained it feels. the heel of her palm presses against the junction of her neck and shoulder, rubbing in idle motions to alleviate it a bit. she watches him collapse next to her, just as breathless, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips, snowy lashes fluttering with exhaustion, gaze heavy lidded. “ didn’t i tire you enough? ” he mutters but she doesn’t need to know him as well as she does to hear the whiny undertone. he blindly reaches through the sheets to find her warmth next to him, yank her to his chest without paying any mind to the way she yelps, and nuzzle his face against her spine. “ you talk too much, go to sleep.”

it had been a long shot, but at least she wouldn’t say that she didn’t try. “ get off of me,” she sighs, exasperated more than anything as she pushes satoru’s heavy arm to slide further away in the sheets. still drowsy & a bit lightheaded but still not relaxed or prideless enough to fall asleep next to him. “ ‘m gonna’ go take a shower.” 

oh, that gets his attention. his head slightly lifting from the sheets, he watches her go, wearing nothing but his shirt. “ can i come?”

the only response he gets is the door that slams shut on his face.

****

she hadn’t expected suguru to be home. by the time she takes a stroll to the kitchen with her damp hair tucked in a soft towel, having switched back to her own clothes to deprive satoru of the pleasure of seeing her in his own clothes, adorned in a pair of rust nike shorts and a hot pink crop top. she finds suguru by the stove, cooking something that smells like thyme with his headphones on. she would have snuck her head in to get a good sniff of the pot, but since sneaking up on someone who is handling a hot pan while wearing headphones is never a good idea, she makes her way to the fridge as intended. he notices her by the shadow that falls on the counter, pulling the headphones down to his neck. “ hey there,” he greets, simple as he spares her a single glance. he doesn’t need to look at her twice to imagine what went down, sighing before turning to his meal.

“ i can feel you judging me,” she says as she pulls the bottle of milk out before closing it shut with a sway of her hips. suguru snorts. “ i am.” 

ever the honest.

“ you don’t get to,” she comments simply as she occupies the same counter he’s cooking in. their shared apartment having memorized by now, she pushes on the side of his head slowly to avoid him hitting his forehead on the cabinet she pulls open ( thinking about it, maybe she should have let it hit him ) to get the coffee she had been desperately craving. she releases him a moment later, putting the coffee jar on the counter. like the calm before the storm. “ you’re the one who told me he was home when he was out with the bitches, if my memory isn’t failing me.” she states thoughtfully as she licks the spoon she delved into the coffee jar earlier. “ and you were the one who told me not to worry when i, in fact, should have been worrying.” 

suguru sighs, clearly discontent to be in the conversation but too bad- he wasn’t discontent when he was lying straight to her face. her gaze is keener than a knife when she turns it on him, the smile that curls on the corners of her mouth is cold enough to look cruel. “ you’re a disappointing friend, suguru.” she comments, her tone sing-song-y enough to sound eerie. too serious and unserious at the same time, like his mistake was spilling her favorite coffee on the floor or forgetting to pick up groceries on his way home. “ and you’re not one bit innocent.” 

“ don’t get me involved in your shit,” he exhales, keeping his gaze on the pan- chicken pesto & rice, hm. delicious. what a pity she felt too nauseous to take a bite. “ it’s not my responsibility to keep your deranged man in check, satoru is the way he is and you know it.” he places a large palm on top of her head but not ruffling her hair, instead bending over a bit unnecessarily to get down on eye level with her, his voice reeking of condescension. “ aren’t we a little too old to be blaming others for our bad life decisions, missy? ” she smiles at him, as sweet as a plum. “ fuck you, suguru.” 

he grins. “ oh, i’d bet you wish. ” 

***

it has been two months without satoru, two months with letting his calls go to voice mail or turning the flowers away from her doorstep. he’s using every trick in the book, from the gifts to the soft epilogues he is murmuring into the mic in the late hours of the night, hoarse and truthful but satoru’s truth as subjective as it can be- his emotions shift with the weather, and so does his intentions. his detachment applies to his ability to hold onto his promises, and the last couple of years he had not learned from his mistakes or her pleading, and she doesn’t necessarily deem herself the teacher he loves being. it’s not in her nature to be coddling a man that is not getting the message, at least not without making him regret every bit of a wrong he’s done her. 

early 2010s are playing in the club that smells like pot & cigarettes & sweat, the fog of everything & anything that’s been smoked blurring in her gaze and dimming the moving purple & pink of the lights, coating the glitter on her cheeks prettiest of technicolors. four martinis in, she’s feeling the buzz in the marrow of her bones, not drunk enough to be stumbling on her feet but drunk enough to not try to see satoru’s white head in the packed crowd. the soles of her butterfly shoes are hitting the back of her ankles, and the polyester of her cheap dress is sticking to her damp skin in ways uncomfortable enough to assure her she definitely is getting a rash the next day. still, it is not nearly as bad as the urge to check her phone every twenty minutes to see if he’s texted. he probably has, and not that she’d text him back, but still it was a reassurance of its own to know that she occupied his thoughts. it was hard, for someone like satoru, to stay focused without drifting away. she’s even surprised he seems to have object permanence altogether. 

just when her tired feet are dragging her to the bar for a refill of her empty martini glass, a similar figure draws her attention. the oversized black sweater that’s ridiculously loose on his shoulder, the fresh wolfcut, the black circle earrings and the cargo pants that also sit nonchalant on his waist and that goddamn manspread. he’s been staring at her. 

if he was here…

“ the pot and its lid, how lovely.” her smile is forced when she leans over him, to the bar, yelling inaudibly over a loud remix of lady gaga for a refill, trying to contain her suddenly restless heart in her ribs, over the prospect of satoru popping out of somewhere to tap her on the shoulder with his disgustingly saccharine smile, sticking a tongue out through his perfect teeth. her knees feel weak and the alcohol is not the only culprit. suguru chuckles, taking another sip of his own drink, neat whiskey as usual. “ he’s not here.” 

thank fucking god. she breathes, and he takes the sight in, nursing his whiskey, slowly twirling the glass with leisure movements of his wrist. “ you want me to call him?” he asks, mocking, teasing. she doesn’t give him the reaction he probably had been pulling and poking around for, instead waiting patiently with her elbows on the counter, a little bent, her midsection resting on suguru’s knee. she’s too occupied in her thoughts to notice it, but he’s not. though, it remains a silent acknowledgement. “ no,” she tells him, mouthing a thank you to the bartender before she turns to suguru eventually, her blue eyeliner having smudged around the corner of her eyes. he offers a grin. “ why, you here with someone? ” he shakes his head at the possibility of that being true, accompanied by a disapproving sound. “ don’t let him know, princess- he can dish it out but he can’t take it. such is the man, your boyfriend. ” the cynical undertone is laughable, so she does- it is swallowed by the slender glass in her hands. “ look at the one talking,” she gestures, amused. suguru shrugs, his head tipping back with the big sip to down the rest of his whiskey, adam’s apple bobbing and the chain that shines distracts her, gleaming under the now red hues. “ jus’ saying,” he shrugs. “ i know him. and you know him. don’t understand why you’re so obsessive over things you know that ain’t good for ya’.” 

well, that had been a little too real than what she expected. she blinks, her expression shifting into one of confusion and of restlessness- a question she cannot answer truly, as she herself is yet to discover the big revelation. instead, her limbs retract, the ghost of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “ careful, suguru.” she muses, words laced with honey but not without the sting. “ you don’t know me like that. you don’t know me at all, actually. ” how would he, when all he has seen of her was her reflection created in satoru’s image? he hasn’t known her the way satoru or even shoko did. he knew her as the girl satoru couldn’t treat right a day in his life yet the girl he simply was too entranced to move on from. 

his expression remains untouched, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth catches her eye. “ you’re here for him,” he says, without an attempt to correct her. “ you’re wearing that skimpy little dress for him. you’re drinking, laughing, dancing- for him. and he’s not even here.” it feels like a dare, the way his shoulders move, how he leans back. “ what a shame.” her ears are burning, the root of her hair red, and the flush on her cheeks is reeking of shame. she feels exposed, at the way suguru pecks at her open wounds without a care- but she asked for it, didn’t she? she stills, then leans, until both of her hands press against the cold edge of the marble counter, caging suguru in. she can smell the whiskey on his breath, can smell the cologne he wears, earthy and woody, lacking the sharp scents satoru uses. he leans back in his stool, carefully curated expression watching every single movement of hers to see what she’s after, decipher the secret message except there is no secret message- she’s angry, and she feels like a lesson has been due by yesterday. 

“ and you’re here for me,” she says eventually, cracking into an eerie smile with the dawning of the revelation. “ oh, suguru, you sneaky bastard,” she can’t help the airy chuckle that escapes her, her eyes having widened with something she’s found in the poker face he had been wearing. he is good at this but so is she. “ you’ve almost had me, gotta’ give it to ya’.” she coos, mingled with mockery in the worst way possible as her head cranes aside, withdrawing to take a good look at him. “ who knew?”

he laughs, the tormenter that he is, and it’s pretty. has it always been this pretty, or is the newfound depth to dabble in make her see him in a light she hasn’t before? “ please,” he snorts, shaking his head, asking the bartender for a refill and tossing his empty glass on the counter. he makes no moves to get out of her symbolic cage, pretty content to be sitting where he is, a knowing look painting him more annoying than he already is- but how could he not be, with the pretty girl lodged between his knees? satoru’s girl, at that. or not. that part was always confusing, even for them. “ i’m flattered, but you’re… not my type.” he finds the words he had been looking for eventually, clicking his tongue with satisfaction. “ i don’t like ‘em as whiny and loudmouthed as you.” she can’t tell if he’s joking or not, can’t tell why the room went up a hundred degrees all of a sudden. “ do me a favor and pick up the next time he calls, yeah?” he murmurs, digging around for something she assumes to be a cigarette, no longer focused on her. “ he’s been nagging like a bitch all day, ‘m tired of it. we both know you’re not going anywhere.” 

she didn’t think it was possible to despise someone as much as she did satoru, but suguru is full of surprises. even if he is not able to find that one particular vein satoru adores pressing with the soles of his pretty, expensive shoes, he finds a completely different one- condescension dripping off his mouth, that lazy stare boiling the blood in her veins. he deems her not worthy of him, whiny and loudmouthed. 

she kisses him just for that. 

it is short, it is confused- it is filled with the urge to prove something, unsure to herself or to him. he tastes like whiskey & mint and it burns the back of her throat, and for a brief moment, he parts his lips, to which she takes as an invitation to push her tongue in and lick at the roof of his mouth as her hands grasp the collar of his hoodie. 

it is short because suguru breaks it, his hands on her elbows, eyes widened and the cherry hue of her lipgloss smudged on his lower lip with the saliva that it shines with. “ ‘m not the revenge you want,” he warns, perhaps the most serious thing he’s said to her that night- but she lacks the fucks to give. “ shut the fuck up,” she says in return instead, before pushing him incessantly to return to the bittersweet taste she had been craving before it even died on her tongue. this time, suguru doesn’t reel back or stop. this time, his tentative hands slide around the small of her exposed back, pulling her flush against him as his teeth sinks into her plush lip. it’s dizzying, how he kisses the breath out of her lungs, and how it sets a dozen fireworks in her ribs. 

“ oh, fuck, i can’t- he’ll kill me,”  the sentiment returns, and she doesn’t remember hearing him so desperate in her life- doesn’t remember hearing him so out of breath and pleading, a begging more to himself than her as he rests his forehead on her temple and draws in heavy breaths like it might make him want her less. it doesn’t. satoru doesn’t plead the way he does, doesn’t look at her with the same pathetic insurmountable need in his eyes. maybe it’s what makes her bold enough to push her thigh between his knees, watching the way his jaw falls slack, slender fingers tightening on her hips as if he can’t decide if he wants to stop her or not. “ you’ve been lying to me for him long enough,” she murmurs, hot and breathless into his mouth, watching every single way his face contorts with shame and pleasure like a hawk through heavy lidded eyes. “ time to lie for me, sugu.” 

it’s how they end up in the back of her car- with her perched atop suguru’s large thighs, moaning into each other’s mouths, raven locks bunched in her incessant palm and his hands splayed out on her thighs. it’s sloppier than anything, and all she can think about is how utterly beautiful he is, with his heavy breathing he is pointless trying to regulate and the way he keeps clutching at her, ridden with guilt & lust at the same time. she doesn’t carry the same concern as he does, doesn’t care about satoru- not in the way she should, at least. it was time he stopped underestimating her. it was time he stopped believing her lack of retaliation on his bullshit was because she thought he could be a better person than he was, not because she was weak enough to stay. she only realizes her mistake now, how wrong it was of her to try to handle things the way adults did- but forfeiting grudges, by trying to forgive and communicate. he mistook her kindness. he thought her sweet, thought her all bark no bite.

but looks could be deceiving.

no clothes are coming undone, but suguru is half unraveled underneath her thighs. “ look at you,” she says in pure admiration, catching his chin between the knuckle of her index finger and her thumb, tilting his head to her liking- which is straight at her, having no choice but to see the diabolical grin that turns her into something he has never put his hands on before. something he wouldn’t know what to do with, if he had. “ whiny and loudmouthed, you said?” she quotes, and a single shift of her hips is enough to drown out any response he might have, to which he responds with a grunt of restraint and a kiss harsher than loving. “ shut up,” he kisses it on her teeth, and she has no objections to that. his presence is overwhelming. it’s unusual, the attachment that comes along- suguru is intense in a way she cannot define to be good or bad. so explore she does, tilting the corner of his jaw with a stubborn push from her nose, teeth grazing at his jugular. she can feel the way his breath hitches, feel the way he twitches. he attempts to take control of the situation by manhandling her on his lap, squeezing the fat of her hips in his palms with a grunt as he forces her into movement. the sticky material of her long drenched panties stick to her, the zipper of his pants getting caught at her clit and making her jolt with each drag. it gives him a momentary release from her evil clutches, but it is questionable how it can be considered relief when he has that drunk look on his face, jaw setting with a low grunt. “ such a fucking slut,” he whispers it against the column of her throat, freeing one hand to resume the movement by lazy & languid rolls of his hips, having her gasp on top of him, boneless on his lap. “ grinding on me because your boyfriend just can’t act right, huh? is this how you get back on him? ” 

she nods, even if she doesn’t want to, too caught up in the way he pseudo-fucks her, unhurried and devoid of any rush- like they had hours to spend in the back of her car. his pants might be deceiving her, but even the outline of him pressing against her is enough to have her mouth watering for the real deal, satoru half forgotten in suguru’s warm lap. his fingertips trail beneath the hem of her blue skirt, and they dance around the edge of her panties without ever getting to business. she squirms, desperate for a taste of something she can’t go back from, but his hold is a one of steel- “ if you want something, you’re gonna have to say it,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing hers without properly kissing her, each thrust making her jolt on his knees. she melts halfway, face contorted in pressure. “ are you this much of a headache for satoru too, or is it special f’ me?” 

that does it, her lower lip trembling as she rests against his chest, hips lazily grinding back into his to keep up with the delicious rhythm that has her seeing stars before anything. the fingers that now ghost over the damp spot of her underwear is her undoing. “ performance anxiety, sugu baby?” she lets a breathless, airy chuckle, accompanied by a sweet aw she manages to utter. “ don’t worry, i’ll guide yo-ohhhh shit,” he tucks her words back into her mouth without batting an eye, he’s good like that, of course he is. there is nothing to be questioned in his abilities to touch a girl, it seems- he doesn’t struggle as he slips underneath the wet fabric and plunges two fingers deep inside her, the sudden intrusion sending an electric jolt down her spine. for a moment, it becomes so, so hard to speak, toes curling in the pretty heels satoru has gotten them as an apology gift for one of his many fuckups. she doesn’t think suguru would like to know that. 

“ sorry, you were sayin’ somethin’?” he hums, a pleased, toothy smile tugging his mouth upwards as he takes in the sight of her squirming on his lap to handle the pressure. he brings an end to those wiggly hips by pressing the forearm that has been on her thigh even harder to pin her nice & tight. “ uh uh, don’t run away from me, now, you wanted this, remember? ” he tuts, still keeping his slow grind her swollen bud as his fingers pump leisurely in & out. “ suguru,” she shudders, gripping the car seat behind him just to be able to have some sort of anchor but even that is failing her. suguru is an asshole of his own kind, so instead of easing up on her, he tugs on the lace ribbons of her dress with his teeth, like an animal, just so he can nuzzle his nose between the valley of her breasts. he’s not as chatty as satoru, it turns out. not as hurried either- it’s not the same rush, not the same avid sense of detachment. this is not turning out the way she expected it to, not the mindless fuck she had been going after just so she could see the look on satoru’s face when she told him she fucked his best friend. 

“ mhm, i see what’s got him so hooked alright,” he reveals to himself, half mesmerized and half amused, an afterthought as he drags his tongue on the velvety edge of her dress, dipping it underneath. “ i’d be tweaking too, if i fumbled this.” the this he is talking about is not her sparkling personality, she assumes, but it has her chuckling breathlessly anyway. it’s one thing to be wanted by satoru who wants everything he can get his hands on all the time, but it is another to be wanted by suguru who seems to want nothing at all. well, except the girl he lied to the face of repeatedly. just for that she thinks of leaving him blue-balled, but all thoughts flee her mind once his teeth catches her hardened nipple and his fingers crook in that delicious way, pulsating around his fingers as the tight coil in her guts snap. 

she doesn’t realize the buildup, nearly panicking with how sudden it all crashes into her- eyes widening impossibly as she clutches onto suguru desperately as the man holds her still. “ keep cumming, keep cumming, good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts with his nose pressing hard against the column of her throat, effortlessly handling the mess of limbs on his knees that is stiffening & seizing with the pressure it takes her to release it all. she thinks she’s seeing sounds, she thinks she’s hearing colors- by the time she comes back down to earth, she has half a mind on her to breathe, and only through the demanding of him who is now holding her chin in his palm: “ don’t pass out on me now, keep breathin’, keep breathin’.” 

it feels cold, when his fingers finally vacate their cozy home, but they are soon to find another- he uses the hand on her chin to pull her jaw a bit down, fingertips squishing into her cheeks to make her open up so he can stuff her mouth with the very same fingers with a dazed look in his eyes. “ polite girls clean up after themselves,” he murmurs. the tangy taste melts on her tongue, sucking on suguru’s fingers as he slowly rocks them a bit, imitating the lewd imagery of her sucking his cock. it would be a pretty sight, she thinks. to see him with his head tipped back, to rob him stark naked of any control he might have, to own him by the balls, as they say. but suguru doesn’t seem interested in the idea, as he just sighs, contently watching her suck on his fingers. she’s always thought he had pretty eyes, violet hues that have been shining with brilliance from the day she’s met him. “ i can’t be doing everything around here, can i?” the way he asks is so fucking condescending, she can’t help the way her ears burn as he pushes his hips into hers to remind her of the very painful hard on that’s been straining against her thigh now. “ ‘m not satoru, sweetheart- i don’t give out free dick. if you want it, you earn it. ” the now empty hand comes harsh against the plush fat of her ass, making her let out a muffled cry through his fingers. “ ride me like you mean it. ” 

he doesn’t have to tell her twice. 

the unbuckling of his belt and the freeing of his hard on is unceremonious, but the thrill of it is so, so heavy in her blood she thinks she’d ride this high for a good year, if she was lucky. he’s not as long as satoru, but the girth of him makes her gulp with the unsavory calculation- it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s going to be a hell of a stretch. suguru, who seems to have noticed her hesitation, grins a little. “ aw, afraid of dick, now?” he mocks, and she hates how much she really likes the genuine laugh he lets out, even when he’s bullying her. “ it doesn’t bite. go on, now. ” she wraps a hand around the base of it, her knuckles brushing against the dark happy trail as she indulges herself in a leisure stroke, watching his eyes roll back with an animalistic pleasure. all she knows is that she wants to see more of it, so when her thumb reaches the angry & leaking tip, she makes sure to apply all the pressure she can manage. “ i think the dick is afraid of me, baby. ” she teases, teeth grazing the corner of his jaw. “ you’ve been packing this the whole time? damn, maybe i got the wrong bestie.” 

suguru can’t manage a response with the way he looks like he’s on cloud nine beneath her, and she finds it sweet, the way he leans into her touch, the way he’s lost in it. having decided that she doesn’t want pleasure if it doesn’t involve hers, she aligns him with her slick entrance, letting the fat tip nudge against her folds with a shaky breath, and tilting her hips to let him sink into her without further teasing. 

the moan they let out when he’s finally inside her is in unison, but his is much whinier than hers and she finds that she revels in the sound- she’d never think him to be whiny in bed, never think him the one to release control. but here he is, holding onto her hips in the backseat of a honda civic, the living and breathing embodiment of pussy whipped. “ holy fuck,” he gasps out, his adam’s apple bobbing as his head tips back to the headrest. “ holy fuck.” 

“ you’re gonna eat your fucking words, suguru,” she confesses in his ear, in the most saccharine voice imaginable as her thighs part to dig her knees on the leather seats so she can ride him to her heart’s content, moaning every single time he bottoms out, every single time his head kisses her cervix, filling her up so nicely. all she can think about is how he deemed her unworthy of him in the bar an hour ago. “ oh, no words? the whiny girl’s pussy got your tongue, baby?” she latches onto his throat just so she can leave a pink mark of hers, just for him to see in the mirror, just for him to have to sit down in satoru and try to explain where that came from. what a scene it would be, how she would have given a kidney and a lung to see it. suguru, to the proof of her point, is too focused on not busting on the spot all her teasing is returned by radio silence except for grunts and whines. he looks so drunk, she wants to kiss him just for that, but she bites on the inside of her cheek instead, wanting him to know what real desperation was. his hands are so, so tight on her waist, and his mumbles are her favorite song. 

well, except the ringtone that disturbs the perfect rhythm she has found, an unexpected caller. 

it is coming from suguru’s pocket, to which she has no problem digging around to find. “ i’ve got you, sweetness, keep moaning like that,” she kisses his forehead just to drive her mockery home, before her eyes lock on the screen. 

gojo. 

if it wasn’t lucky. 

“ no, no, give me that back-” suguru attempts to get his hands on his phone but she is already answering before he can manage, and the first thing they hear is satoru’s voice, who never lets anybody speak first if he’s the caller: “ dude, i’ve been calling you all fucking night, ” he complains. “ where the hell have you been?” 

suguru is looking at her with pleading eyes, but seeing how that desperation erodes with a single roll of her hips is so satisfactory there is no shame in her voice as she responds: “ he’s busy, satoru babes,” she laughs, giddy. and it takes a hot minute for the white haired walking ego on the other end of the line to register her voice. “ what?... how?... what the fuck?” by now there is no fucking way he’s not hearing the sweet moans suguru is releasing, too pussy-whipped to realize the situation she put them in, too pussy-whipped to stop. “ say hi, sugu.” she plays an evil more diabolical card, shoving the mic right in the corner of suguru’s mouth, who is now scrambling for the last bits of his late composure. “ sato-oh, fuck, satoru, i can’t- i couldn’t- oh my fucking god, ‘ts so tight, ” unable to string a form of coherent sentences, she thinks she could cum from just how mouth-watering the view is. 

“ suguru, are you fucking my girl right now?” satoru is asking with a bamboozlement she has never heard in his voice before but before he can get an answer she hangs up, tossing the phone somewhere in the messy seats- not everything is about satoru, and leaving him hanging is a bigger punishment than letting him stay on the phone for the whole thing. there was no knowing with the bastard- it wouldn’t be a punishment if he turned out to be into it, after all. torture or not, suguru is hers for the moment, and there is a prized possession in such belonging, she honors it with wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking into him like there is no tomorrow. “ you feel so good,” she breaths into his ear, honest and genuine. “ you feel so fucking good, suguru. you’re so beautiful, look at you,” she slides his chin into her palm, gaze boring into his heavenly visage with an adoring look, even when he looks so utterly fucked out. “ who’s passing out on who now, hm? ” 

maybe he would have panicked at the aspect of being caught red handed, maybe he would have stopped or would have actually do something about it when satoru calls again immediately after- but all he does is to shift deeper in the seat, spread his legs wider and start fucking up into her in a rhythm so unforgiving they go back to square one, all power evades her, being reduced to a ragdoll in his arms as he hooks his arms beneath her thighs and spreads her all the way open. “ you got wetter when he heard this,” he tugs on her earlobe, hoarse and teetering on the edge of his own pleasure. “ you got tighter when you picked up, such a fucking whore,” he grunts, and she is reeling, nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to take the pounding without screaming. “ little slut is gonna cum from being caught,” he mocks, breathless. “ go ahead and fucking cum.” he is so right there is no fighting it- he commands with that growl and she is falling apart before she can stop it, and suguru is right behind her. 

it takes minutes, for both of them to come down from their highs, as suguru keeps spilling into her with no end and she keeps milking him for all he’s worth, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. knowing that satoru had stopped calling somewhere right before they came, it truly might have, as there was no knowing what he would be doing right now. his silence was scarier than his reactions, but at the moment she really can’t bring herself to care. “  you doin’ okay?” he asks, making her jolt on his thigh just to get a reaction out of her, brushing her damp strands away from her face, revealing her hazy gaze and unfocused eyes. “ cockdrunk,” he grins. “ look at yourself, poor little thing.” her limbs still work enough for her to give him a slap on the bicep along a roll of her eyes. “ says the man who moaned like a bitch to the boyfriend of the girl he’s fucking. who knew you were such a whore, suguru?” her tongue darts out to lick her dry lips. “ you’re full of surprises.” 

“ and you’re so full of unnecessary words,” he sighs, both to how she immediately became annoying again and how it feels when she finally lets him slide out of her, remaining seated on his thigh. none of them make an attempt to leave this cozy nest they have been indulging in for a good hour or two now. “ at this point i just think you are incapable of going fifteen minutes without hearing your own voice.” she snorts with the response, shifting off his lap to collapse right next to him, both of them breathing heavy in silence for a moment. “ what now?” he asks after a few minutes, looking over at her with those heaven of violet eyes. 

she offers him the most charming, dazzling smile of hers. “ what happens is that you tell satoru i said hi,” she says. “ and get out of my car, suguru. i’m done with both your asses.” 

© written by lotuseye. do not translate or copy my work.

[rudyking]

Late night fights:

JJ and you get into a huge fight, making you storm out of the house in the middle of the night.

The argument had started subtly, a low simmer of frustration over something you couldn't even fully recall now – his latest impulsive, borderline-illegal scheme, your nagging worry about his safety, the perpetual tightrope walk you both navigated between his wild heart and your need for stability.

But it had escalated fast, as it always did when his defenses went up. His inherent rebelliousness, fueled by years of fending for himself, clashed violently with your quiet concern. Your voice, usually calm and steady, had risen, laced with exhaustion and fear. His had met it, sharp and sarcastic, his playful mockery twisting into biting cruelty when he felt cornered.

"You think I want to do this stuff?" he'd snapped, his blue eyes, usually bright and full of mischief, clouded with a familiar, dark anger. "You think I enjoy dodging Kooks and cops? This is how we get by, okay? How I get by! How I keep a roof over our heads!"

"That's not fair, JJ!" you'd retorted, your hands clenching at your sides. "You know I work just as hard. And it's not just about getting by, it's about the risks! Why do you always have to push it? Why can't you just... just be safe?"

He’d laughed then, a harsh, humorless sound that scraped against your nerves. "Safe? This is the Outer Banks, Y/n! Safe is for tourists with khakis and matching suitcases! Safe doesn't exist here, not for us! Or maybe you forgot where you are, huh? Maybe you'd rather be somewhere... boring?"

That last word, "boring," landed like a punch. It was low, calculated, designed to wound. You knew he didn't mean it, not really, but the raw anger in his voice made it feel like a truth he suddenly believed. It hit on an insecurity – were you trying to change him? Were you not cut out for his world?

Your carefully constructed patience crumbled. "Boring? No, but maybe I'd rather be somewhere I don't have to worry every single damn second that you're going to end up in jail or worse!" Your voice trembled, tears pricking at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "Maybe I'd rather be with someone who doesn't make me feel like I'm the enemy for caring about them!"

His face hardened, the deep dimples you loved so much replaced by sharp lines of fury. "Oh, so I make you feel like the enemy? Is that it? Maybe you're just looking for a way out! Maybe you're tired of this, tired of me!"

"Don't you dare!" you cried, your voice breaking. "Don't you dare twist this! I'm tired of feeling disposable! Like my feelings don't matter because you've got some hero complex to fulfill!"

"Disposable?" He took a step towards you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His shaggy blonde hair was messy, falling into those intense blue eyes. "Is that what you think? After everything? After us?"

"Yes!" The word was ripped from you, raw and painful. "Yes! Because you keep doing things that put you in danger, that put us in danger, and you never listen! You never think! You just act, and then you expect me to just... clean up the mess and pretend I'm not terrified!"

He flinched back as if you'd slapped him. For a split second, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in those blue eyes, the hurt beneath the bravado. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a cold, hard mask. "Fine," he bit out, the single word loaded with venom. "If that's how you feel. If you think I'm so messed up, so disposable... Maybe you just shouldn't be here."

The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic wash of the waves on the shore. The air crackled with unspoken words, with regrets already forming, but the pride and pain were too deep to let them surface. His meaning was clear. He wasn't saying he wanted you to leave, not explicitly, but he was saying if you felt that way, if you couldn't handle him, then there was the door. It was the ultimate test, the reckless gamble of his impulsive nature betting that you wouldn't call his bluff.

But this time, you couldn't stay. The hurt was too profound, the feeling of being misunderstood and dismissed too overwhelming. Your chest ached. You couldn't breathe properly. Being in the same room felt like suffocation.

Without another word, you turned. You walked towards the small table by the door, your movements stiff and deliberate. You grabbed your keys, your phone, whatever lightweight jacket was within reach. You didn't look back at him, couldn't bear to see the expression on his face, whether it was still anger or something else entirely.

You fumbled with the lock, your hands shaking slightly. The door creaked open, revealing the inky blackness of the late night and the oppressive humidity of the air outside. The sound of the cicadas was loud, a buzzing counterpoint to the silence you were leaving behind.

You stepped out, the warm, damp air enveloping you. You pulled the door shut behind you, not slamming it, but closing it with a quiet finality that felt louder than any shout.

The porch steps creaked under your feet as you descended. The familiar sandy path leading away from the house felt alien beneath your worn flip-flops. You didn't know where you were going, only that you had to get away. Away from the tension, away from the pain, away from him, just for a little while, long enough to catch your breath.

You started walking, your pace brisk and determined at first, then slowing as the immediate adrenaline faded, leaving only a hollow ache in your chest. The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows. The air smelled of salt and marsh and something else, something floral and heavy thriving in the coastal heat. The sound of the waves grew louder the closer you got to the beach road.

You reached the road and turned towards the nearest public beach access point. The sand was soft and cool under your bare feet once you kicked off your flip-flops. The roar of the ocean was a constant, powerful presence, soothing and overwhelming all at once. You walked towards the water's edge, letting the cool foam rush over your ankles, the retreating tide tugging at your feet.

The sky above was a canvas of a million stars, scattered across the vast darkness like glitter. The moon was a sliver, casting a faint, ethereal glow. It was beautiful, peaceful, and utterly lonely.

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering despite the warmth of the night. Replaying the fight, every harsh word, every accusation, every cutting silence echoed in your mind. Had you pushed too hard? Had you been unfair? Had he really meant what he said, about you not belonging here, about you being tired of him?

Your heart ached with a confusing mix of anger, sadness, and a terrifying knot of fear. Fear for him, always fear for him, but now also fear for the future of... whatever this was between you. You loved him so fiercely, more than anything. His loyalty, his unexpected kindness, his playful humor, even his infuriating impulsiveness – they were all part of the complex, fascinating person you had fallen for. But his tendency to self-sabotage, his inability to process difficult emotions without lashing out, his reckless disregard for his own safety... sometimes it felt like too much.

You walked for what felt like hours, the sand cool beneath your feet, the waves a constant murmur. You passed silent, darkened beach houses, the occasional distant light from a fishing boat out on the water. You felt utterly alone in the vastness of the night and the ocean.

Around you, the character details of the Outer Banks were present – the salty air, the sound of the surf, the feel of the sand, maybe the scent of Confederate jasmine trailing from someone's yard.

Suddenly, you heard it. A familiar sound, cutting through the drone of the waves. The distinct engine of JJ's beat-up truck.

Your breath hitched. You hadn't heard it pull up, hadn't heard him call your name over the sound of the ocean. Had he been looking for you? How long had you been gone?

You saw his headlights sweep across the sand, briefly illuminating a stretch of beach before they were cut off. Then, his figure emerged from the darkness near the access point, silhouetted against the faint glow of the distant streetlights.

He looked disheveled, his shaggy blonde hair even messier than usual, his shoulders slumped slightly. He walked slowly, scanning the beach.

"Y/n?" His voice reached you, a little hoarse, edged with uncertainty and something else... relief? Fear?

You didn't answer immediately. A part of you wanted to run, to disappear into the darkness and make him understand the depth of the chasm that had opened between you. Another part, the part that was kind and loving and fiercely cared for him, felt a jolt of something akin to hope, quickly followed by apprehension.

He saw you then, a lone figure by the water's edge. He started walking towards you, picking up his pace, his steps quicker now, more purposeful.

You stood your ground, watching him approach. As he got closer, you could make out his features in the faint light – the worry etched on his face, the way his blue eyes searched yours. The usual carefree swagger was gone, replaced by a raw vulnerability that you rarely saw.

He stopped a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He looked lost, unsure of what to say, which in itself was telling for someone usually so quick with words.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, hesitant.

You didn't respond. You just looked at him, waiting.

He shifted his weight. "You, uh... you okay?"

The question, so simple, felt loaded. Were you okay? No. You were hurting. You were angry. You were scared. But you were also standing there, waiting for him.

"I needed to clear my head," you finally said, your voice quiet but steady.

He nodded, understanding. He glanced out at the ocean for a moment, then back at you. "I... I shouldn't have said that stuff, Y/n." He swallowed hard. "About you being tired of me. That was... that was stupid. I didn't mean it."

His admission hung in the air. It wasn't a full apology, not yet, but it was a start. It was him showing that flicker of vulnerability you had seen earlier, letting it linger this time.

"It hurt, JJ," you said, your voice still low. "A lot. It felt like you were throwing everything away because I was worried about you."

He finally stepped closer, reaching out a hand tentatively, letting it drop before he touched you. "I know. And I'm sorry. I... I got scared, I guess. Scared you meant it, scared you were like, done with me. And when I get scared, I say stupid shit." He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, restless. "It's not an excuse, I know. I just... I don't know how to deal with it sometimes. When you worry, when you... care so much. It feels like... like pressure. And I mess it up."

He was being honest. Brutally, painfully honest. It was the most vulnerable you had seen him in a long time, maybe ever. The usual smart-alecky humor and deflective sarcasm were notably absent.

"I care because I love you, JJ," you said, the words heavy with emotion. "Isn't that obvious? I don't want to change who you are, but I can't just stand by and watch you constantly put yourself in danger. It's terrifying."

His blue eyes were fixated on yours. In the faint moonlight, you could just make out the hint of his deep dimples, softened by the seriousness of the moment. He took another step closer, closing the small distance between you. He reached out again, this time tentatively touching your arm, his hand warm against your skin.

"I know," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know you do. And I... I love you too, Y/n." He tightened his grip on your arm slightly, pulling you gently closer. "More than anything. That's why... that's why losing you scares me more than anything else out there. More than Ward, more than the Feds, more than drowning. Losing you..." He trailed off, unable to articulate the depth of that fear.

He pulled you fully into his arms then, holding you close. His embrace was tight, protective, almost desperate. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours. You buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him – salt, sunscreen, and something uniquely JJ.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into your hair, the words quieter this time, a true apology filtering through the raw emotion. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just... fighting myself, I guess. And I took it out on you. That was messed up."

You clung to him, letting the tears finally fall, wetting his shirt. They weren't just tears of pain anymore, but also of relief. Relief that he had come for you, that he was admitting his fault, that the connection between you hadn't been irreparably severed.

"I was so scared," you confessed, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "When you said that... I just... I didn't know what to do."

He held you tighter. "I know. That was the dumbest thing I've ever said. And I've said a lot of dumb things." He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at your face, his hands still on your shoulders. His blue eyes were filled with a mixture of regret, love, and a lingering fear. "Don't ever... don't ever think I don't need you, Y/n. Don't ever think I'm done with you. Okay? You're... you're everything to me."

He reached up and gently brushed a tear from your cheek with his thumb. His touch was soft, affectionate. The deep dimples were visible again, but they didn't signify a smile; they were just part of the landscape of his face, visible in his earnestness.

"Okay," you whispered back, a fragile promise hanging in the night air. It wasn't a magic fix. The argument had exposed deep-seated issues, old wounds, and unresolved conflicts. There would be other fights, other moments of fear and frustration. But this... this was coming back from the brink. This was him showing you the vulnerable heart he usually kept hidden behind bravado and sarcasm. This was you choosing to stay, to work through the mess, because the love was worth fighting for.

He leaned down and gently kissed your forehead, then your temple, and finally, your lips. The kiss was soft, tender, full of unspoken apologies and desperate affection. It wasn't passionate in the way your kisses usually were; it was something deeper, a reaffirmation of connection broken and tentatively mended.

When he pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours for a moment, both of you just breathing, the sound of the waves a gentle backdrop.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice low and kind. "Let's go home."

Home. The word felt different now. It wasn't just a place; it was the space you built together, imperfect and messy and sometimes painful, but undeniably yours.

He took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. His hand was warm and strong, a comforting anchor. You walked together back towards the sandy path, leaving the vast, lonely expanse of the beach behind. The stars still glittered above, the humid air still hung heavy, the waves still crashed against the shore.

But the oppressive silence and the chilling loneliness were gone, replaced by the quiet reassurance of his presence beside you, hand in hand, walking back towards whatever came next. It wouldn't be easy, nothing with JJ ever was, but as you glanced over at his profile in the dim light, seeing the lingering worry in his blue eyes but also the steady resolve as he led the way, you knew you were facing it together. And for now, in the quiet middle of the night, that felt like enough.

[minhosbitterriver]

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ On a rainy evening, a deepening connection unfolds between you and Hyunjin as you explore your newfound intimacy in the cozy sanctuary of your studio apartment. Amidst clumsy yet heartfelt moments, your bond blossoms into a magical dance of tenderness and desire, celebrated under the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested a little bit ago by my lovely 🌪️ Anon! I genuinely loved working on this purely for the awkwardness between Y/N and Hyunjin. I just feel like this is something that is not talked about enough, especially within the writing community. It's completely normal to be a bit clumsy and/or awkward the first time you have sex with someone — it doesn't mean that you or your partner is a virgin or is bad at it! Everyone's tastes when it comes to this is different so it might take a second to figure your partner out! And that's totally okay! Alright, anyway, requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, established relationship, it's first time Hyunjin fingers you, neither of you are virgins, it's awkward and a little clumsy at the beginning, very fluffy, please let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

It had been a Saturday to remember, one that etched itself into the tapestry of your memories, marked by the presence of Hyunjin. His charismatic charm had woven itself through your days for the past month, casting a spell of enchantment that lingered in the air. Though the span of time you had spent together might appear fleeting in the grand scheme of things, it felt as if you had experienced an entire lifetime’s worth of moments within those precious weeks.

Each shared glance carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, creating a silent dialogue that only the two of you understood. Every burst of laughter echoed like a melody, resonating with joy and warmth that filled the spaces between you. The conversations you shared, whether deep and contemplative or light and whimsical, wove a rich tapestry of connection that seemed to transcend the mere passage of days.

It was as though time itself had bent and stretched to accommodate the depth of your interactions. The moments you spent together, whether walking hand in hand through sun-dappled streets or sharing quiet, emotionally intimate evenings under a canopy of stars, left you with the impression that you had journeyed through countless experiences together in just a short while. The intensity of your bond created a sense of timelessness, making each day feel like a chapter in a beautifully unfolding story.

The day dawned under the crisp, invigorating light of morning, painting the world in hues of possibility. Hyunjin stood eagerly by your front door, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and a smile that promised adventure. The air was charged with the excitement of a day uncharted, a journey waiting to unfold as you both boarded the train bound for the newly opened museum.

As the train carried you toward your destination, a sense of exhilaration grew, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. The cityscape blurred past, a fleeting backdrop to the conversation and laughter that filled the space between you. Upon arrival, the museum revealed itself as a grand sanctuary of artistry and history, its towering facade inviting you into a world where time seemed to stand still.

Stepping inside, you were enveloped by the cool, hushed atmosphere of the museum, a place where every corner promised discovery. The labyrinthine halls stretched out before you, each exhibit unfolding like a new chapter in your shared journey. Vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and ancient artifacts beckoned you closer, igniting lively discussions and thoughtful reflections. With every step, you meandered through galleries side by side, your connection deepening as you shared insights and marvels.

The experience felt timeless, an effortless immersion into a realm of creativity and wonder. You lost yourselves in the stories etched into each piece, the artistry that transcended the mundane and spoke directly to your souls. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each moment adding a brushstroke to the canvas of your day, painting a picture of shared exploration and discovery. In that museum, amidst the echoes of history and the whispers of creativity, you found not only a deeper understanding of the world but also of each other.

After immersing yourselves in the museum's artistic treasures, you both boarded the train once more, the thrill of the day still crackling in the air between you. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath you seemed to echo the excitement of the adventure that awaited. Your destination was your favorite restaurant, a cherished haven where comfort and familiarity wove seamlessly into the fabric of its ambiance.

Upon arrival, the restaurant greeted you with its warm, inviting glow. Soft light spilled from hanging fixtures, casting a gentle radiance over the rustic wooden tables and cushioned chairs. The scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread. As you settled into your seats, the meal became more than just sustenance; it transformed into a canvas for laughter and playful banter.

Each dish that arrived at your table seemed to serve as a catalyst for shared stories and inside jokes. The vibrant colors of the food mirrored the lively exchange between you, as conversations flowed effortlessly alongside bites of deliciously crafted dishes. The restaurant’s lively bustle provided a vibrant backdrop, its hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery blending into the symphony of your shared experience.

The meal, rich with flavor and affection, was more than a mere dining experience; it was an extension of the day's joy and companionship. With each course, you both found yourselves drawn closer, the savory dishes a tangible reflection of the deepening bond between you. As you enjoyed each bite, the connection you had forged earlier in the museum seemed to be solidified, the warmth of the food and the ambiance merging to create a perfect continuation of the day's adventures.

Adjacent to the restaurant stood a quaint psychic shop, its sign casting a gentle, ethereal glow that beckoned with an almost magnetic allure. The delicate, swirling script on the sign seemed to whisper promises of mysteries and hidden truths, igniting a spark of curiosity within both of you. Driven by a shared sense of adventure and intrigue, you decided to venture inside, stepping into a world that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The interior of the shop was a treasure trove of curiosities. Dimly lit by the soft flicker of candlelight, the space was adorned with richly embroidered tapestries and shelves brimming with intriguing artifacts. The air was tinged with the heady fragrance of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of old parchment and aromatic herbs. In the center of this enigmatic realm sat the psychic, her presence as compelling as the surroundings.

Her gaze was shrouded in an enigmatic aura as she performed the reading, her eyes glimmering with an inscrutable wisdom. As she declared with a knowing smile that you and Hyunjin were soulmates, her words seemed to reverberate with an almost palpable magic. The statement hung in the air like a delicate thread, weaving itself into the fabric of your shared experience.

The psychic’s cryptic smile was met with a blend of surprise and shyness on your faces. A soft blush crept across both your cheeks, accentuating the nervous laughter that bubbled up between you. Each of you cast furtive glances away, caught between a fluttering sense of embarrassment and an exhilarating hint of delight. The moment felt like a secret dance, a playful intimacy that hung between you, adding a layer of enchantment to the day. The encounter at the psychic shop became a cherished memory, a touch of magic that lingered like a sweet aftertaste, enriching the tapestry of your shared adventure.

As the evening unfurled, you both returned to the serene sanctuary of your cozy studio apartment. The tranquility of the space embraced you like a warm hug, with the soft, rhythmic purring of your cat—curled contentedly on the nightstand—embodying the essence of home’s simple pleasures. The room was gently illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting a soothing radiance that seemed to enhance the peaceful ambiance.

In this haven of calm, you set about preparing warm tea for both of you. The aroma of the brewing tea leaves mingled with the subtle scent of the evening, creating an olfactory embrace that complemented the warmth of the space. As you poured the steaming liquid into delicate cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain was a soft, melodious counterpoint to the quietude surrounding you.

The conversation that followed was a tender and intimate exchange, your voices barely rising above hushed whispers as you both savored the serene atmosphere of the moment. Each word shared was like a caress, adding to the richness of your connection. Cradling your tea cups in your hands, you both reveled in a profound sense of contentment, the day’s adventures seamlessly blending into the gentle comfort of your shared refuge.

The evening unfolded as a quiet yet significant culmination of laughter, connection, and deepening bonds. The day’s escapades, full of vivid experiences and cherished moments, seemed to melt into the soft, welcoming embrace of your studio. This tranquil conclusion transformed the day into a cherished memory, a treasured chapter that would linger tenderly in your hearts.

As the night wore on, the rain began to fall in a steady, soothing rhythm, each droplet creating a symphony of tranquility against the windows. The gentle patter of the rain became a serene backdrop to the evening's unfolding events, wrapping your world in a cocoon of calm. Within the comforting familiarity of your bedroom, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

You extended an invitation to Hyunjin, offering him a place beside you on the bed, a gesture that had become second nature over the short time you’ve been together. Yet tonight carried a different energy, a palpable shift that neither of you could ignore—evident in the way Hyunjin’s heavy eyes followed your every move. The ambiance was charged with an emerging affection, an electric undercurrent that seemed to hum softly in the space between you.

Each fleeting glance you shared was laden with unspoken emotions, eyes conveying what words could not. The subtle brush of skin against skin felt like sparks igniting a fire, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your quiet conversations, spoken in hushed tones, wove a delicate tapestry of words and sentiments, each one deepening the connection you felt.

In the stillness of your home, every moment seemed to heighten the sense of anticipation. The rain's gentle cadence matched the rhythm of your hearts, beating in sync as if to the same unspoken melody. The space between you felt charged, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to a deeper intimacy that was steadily approaching, its arrival inevitable and eagerly awaited.

The night continued to unfold in this gentle yet intense dance of emotions, the rain outside acting as a serenade to your evolving bond while you prepared your bed for the night. Each moment spent together was a testament to the growing affection that had blossomed between you, transforming the ordinary into something exquisitely profound. In that cozy sanctuary, under the spell of the night and the rain, you both felt the irresistible pull toward a connection that promised to be as enduring as the rhythmic rain itself.

The tension between you both thickened as you handed him a t-shirt he had intentionally left behind during a previous visit. The fabric of the shirt, worn soft and familiar, passed from your hands to his with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken significance. As soon as he grasped the shirt, a spark of unspoken urgency ignited between you. His lips met yours with a fervor that had been quietly simmering throughout the day, an electric connection that surged with the intensity of all the emotions you had harbored.

The kiss was a profound mingling of longing and desire, a tangible culmination of the feelings that had been building in the quiet spaces between you. It was as if the very essence of the day’s shared moments converged in this single, impassioned exchange. 

Even amidst this deep connection, an endearing awkwardness lingered in the air. As you both clumsily undressed each other, your movements were hesitant and unpracticed, yet brimming with sincerity. Nervous laughter bubbled up between you, a symphony of shared amusement that softened the intensity of the moment. Your hands fumbled gently, each touch a mix of tender care and uncoordinated eagerness, creating a dance of intimacy that was both innocent and heartfelt.

Your gaze remained locked on his dazed eyes, the unspoken emotions between you speaking volumes. Every brush of your fingers, every accidental graze, was charged with a sense of wonder and discovery. The garments fell away piece by piece, leaving you both in only your underwear, vulnerable and exposed yet completely at ease in each other's presence.

The path to the bed was a journey marked by stumbles and shared glances. Each step was a testament to the raw and unrefined nature of your intimacy, a beautiful reminder of the genuine connection you were forging. The nervous energy between you added a layer of charm to the moment, making each interaction feel even more precious.

As you finally reached the bed, the clumsy yet heartfelt nature of your movements only served to deepen the bond you were creating. The tender moments of hesitation and the bursts of laughter wove together, forming a tapestry of intimacy that was uniquely your own. In the gentle embrace of the night, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, you both discovered a profound sense of closeness that transcended the physical, creating a memory that would linger long after the night had ended.

This clumsy yet heartfelt interaction only added to the night's charm, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared experience. Every hesitant touch, each nervous laugh, became a delicate thread, binding you closer together. As he settled between your legs, the intimacy of the moment deepened, turning every interaction into a genuine and endearing part of your growing bond.

A breathy moan escapes your lips as Hyunjin's kisses trace a delicate path along your jaw, each touch igniting a spark of electricity. When he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver runs through you, heightening your senses. This reaction seemed to bolster his confidence, and with gentle yet assertive hands, he guided you to lay back on the bed.

As you sink into the soft embrace of the mattress, his mouth works its magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Each kiss, each caress is a jolt of pure electricity, making your heart race and your breath hitch. The intensity of his touch leaves you yearning for more, each moment an exquisite blend of anticipation and ecstasy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence. As he continues his descent, his mouth finds your hardened nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect symphony of pleasure that leaves you arching your back, pressing yourself against him.

In this intimate dance, every movement feels deliberate and profound, each touch a testament to the deep connection you share. The room around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own creation, where time stands still and nothing exists except the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined.

His kisses, like whispers of fire, trail across your skin, igniting every nerve ending with a burning desire. The magic of his mouth, the gentle yet insistent way he explores your body, leaves you trembling with need. Every breathy moan, every gasp of pleasure, becomes a part of this beautiful symphony, resonating in the quiet sanctuary of your shared space.

Your hands find the courage to wander, fingers trembling with anticipation as they begin their exploration. Every touch is an act of reverence, a slow and deliberate journey to memorize the curves and contours of his lean body. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

As your hands glide over his torso, you savor the feeling of his defined muscles, each movement a tactile symphony. Your fingertips dance over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs before drifting down to his abs. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch is mesmerizing, drawing you deeper into the intimate connection you share.

When your hands finally reach his abs, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sculpted firmness beneath your palms. The tension in his muscles, the way they contract and relax with each breath, is a testament to his strength and beauty. Your touch becomes more deliberate, a silent communication of desire and admiration.

As you move lower, your fingers find his hardened core, and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The sound is intoxicating, a blend of need and pleasure that fuels your own arousal. He pushes his hips into your hand eagerly, a wordless plea for more, and you can't help but chuckle lightly at his neediness. There's something incredibly endearing about the way he responds to your touch, a vulnerability that makes him even more irresistible.

His groan resonates in the quiet room, mingling with the rhythm of your shared breaths. The intensity of his reaction sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of power and tenderness. As your hand continues to caress him, you revel in the connection between you, the unspoken language of touch and desire that binds you together.

The moment stretches into eternity, every touch, every sound, deepening the bond you share. The intimacy of your exploration, the way your hands map the landscape of his body, becomes a testament to the growing love between you. In this private sanctuary, you find a profound sense of fulfillment, a beautiful merging of souls that transcends the physical and touches the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for so long to have this moment with you,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of your shared breath. His words hang in the air, delicate and poignant, carrying the weight of anticipation and longing. You can see the depth of his emotions reflected in his eyes, a swirling sea of vulnerability and desire that makes your heart ache with a tender ache. The sincerity in his voice, the quiet urgency, speaks volumes about the unspoken yearning that has built up between you.

His words touched you deeply, a wave of emotion washing over you as you absorbed the sincerity in his voice. With a soft, reassuring smile, your hands left his already leaking length, the warmth of his arousal lingering on your fingertips. You reached up, fingers threading through his long, silken hair, feeling its softness and reveling in the intimacy of the gesture.

"Don’t ever apologize, Hyune," you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. "You’re being wonderful."

Your fingers continued their gentle journey through his hair, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to convey all the emotions you felt. His hair, smooth and luxurious, slipped through your fingers like strands of midnight silk, and you marveled at the way it framed his face, accentuating the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

The two of you lingered in a realm of shared kisses, each one deepening the connection that pulsed between you. What began as gentle explorations quickly evolved into a deliciously messy entanglement of lips and tongues, leaving both of you breathless. Droplets of shared saliva glistened on your mouths, a testament to the fervor with which you embraced each other. Every time your needy cores met, grinding against the thin barrier of fabric that still separated you, a gasp escaped your lips, mingling with his in a symphony of desire.

The friction, though clothed, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited, a mere glimpse of the pleasure that loomed on the horizon. Each grind, each press of your bodies, sent waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins at an intoxicating speed. It was an addictive rush, leaving you craving more—more of him, more of the sensations that set your skin aflame and made your heart race.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity of heated kisses and desperate touches. Your hands roamed freely, memorizing the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, and committing every inch of him to memory. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion—breathy moans, whispered names, and the rhythmic beat of two hearts caught in the throes of desire.

It wasn't long before the intensity of your need became almost unbearable. A soft, desperate whine escaped your lips, a sound that conveyed your longing and frustration. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, a testament to how thoroughly he had aroused you. Your body ached with a deep, insistent need, practically begging him for more.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desire, and you looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Hyunjin's gaze darkened with a mixture of lust and affection, his breath hitching at the sight of you so vulnerable, so open. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was both a promise and a reassurance, a silent vow that he would give you everything you craved.

As he pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your core.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his hands slid down your body, his touch igniting a trail of fire along your skin. The anticipation built with every second, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Each brush of his fingers, each lingering touch, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited. You arched into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure.

His fingers danced tantalizingly close to your drenched core, skimming over the slick heat but avoiding the sensitive places where you needed him most. The tease was exquisite yet maddening, each near-touch sending shivers of both pleasure and frustration through your body. You could feel the dampness of sweat on your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Mildly frustrated, a soft whimper escaped your lips as you reached down between your intertwined bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to where you craved his touch. The movement was driven by a mix of urgency and desperation, a silent plea for him to end the sweet torture.

He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, the sound a blend of amusement and affection that reverberated through your chest. The gentle tease in his voice only heightened your desire, making you acutely aware of how much you wanted—needed—him. Despite his amusement, he didn't leave you waiting for long.

His thumb found your clit, the touch electric and precise, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A gasp left your lips, the sensation intense and immediate. Without warning, his index finger slipped inside you, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion made you yelp in surprise, your body arching into his touch as a wave of heat surged through you.

He quickly glanced up, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and passion. The thrusts into your core halted, yet he kept his fingers buried deep inside, the sensation still pulsing through you. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a husky whisper that mingled with the heavy breaths filling the room.

You licked your lips, a slow and deliberate motion, trying to gather your composure amidst the swirling intensity. Your chest rose and fell with each pant, the air thick with anticipation and desire. You nodded, the movement gentle but assured, your body trembling slightly as you held back the urge to grind into his hand. "Yes... just please go slow when you're down there," you whispered, your voice tinged with a blend of need and vulnerability.

His eyes softened at your words, a tender smile curling at the corners of his lips. The connection between you felt almost palpable, a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded in response, his fingers beginning to move once more, but this time with a deliberate slowness that made every touch more intense.

Each movement was a study in restraint, his fingers exploring you with a gentleness that contrasted with the earlier urgency. The deliberate pace allowed you to savor every sensation, the pleasure building in slow, delicious waves. Your body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him delve deeper.

He watched you closely, his gaze unwavering, the concern in his eyes gradually giving way to a renewed desire. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, a cocoon of shared trust and passion. His other hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he continued his slow, measured rhythm.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the earlier frenzy giving way to a tender, almost reverent exploration. Your breaths synchronize, each inhale and exhale a testament to the deep connection that had formed between you. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that sent shivers down your spine, drawing out gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As he moved, his thumb brushed against your clit with a featherlight touch, sending sparks of electricity through your entire being. The slow pace allowed the pleasure to build gradually, each wave cresting higher than the last. Your hands reached out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations.

He responded to your touch, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, every sensation magnified in the cocoon of intimacy you had created. The taste of him, the feel of his fingers, the sound of your mingled breaths—it all wove together into a symphony of pleasure.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, a slow burn that promised an explosive release. The deliberate pace made every touch, every caress, more poignant, the anticipation heightening your arousal. Your body arched into his touch, a silent plea for more, for everything he could give.

His fingers moved with a steady, unerring rhythm, guiding you towards the edge with a skill that made your heart race. The slow, deliberate thrusts were interspersed with gentle caresses, the combination driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your moans grew louder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a final, deliberate thrust, the tension within you snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small space, your vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure sensation.

He held you through it all, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure. The aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you breathless and sated. As the intensity faded, you clung to him, your body still humming with the remnants of ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the room was filled with a quiet, almost sacred, stillness. You looked up at him, your heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that this moment was one of many that you would cherish. The night was a tapestry of shared passion and deep connection, a journey that had only just begun.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

[joaosnovia]

Hii. Could you write a fic abt João and the reader talking about babies/the future and him proposing?🩷

❦ - my kind of man.

summary:: what the req says.

warnings:: none!

writers notes:: so. first of all i’m sorry for ghosting bc i lowkey got carried away w the tons of requests ive gotten and school is also an issue so i dropped this not so much of a banger. ALSO JOAO MAN FIX UR PHOTOS BC HE JS LOOKS STUPID IN MY BEIGE SCHEME

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

it happens on a quiet evening, just the two of you walking along the beach. the sun has long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the soft glow of the moon and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

joão’s hand is warm in yours, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. it’s a habit of his, one you’ve grown to love, the way he always finds some way to touch you, as if making sure you’re really there.

the night air is cool, salty, but comfortable. the world feels still, like it belongs only to the two of you in this moment.

then, out of nowhere, he says, ‘do you ever think about the future?’

you glance up at him, catching the way his gaze lingers on the ocean, thoughtful. ‘what do you mean?’

he exhales softly, as if choosing his words carefully. ‘just… us. where we’ll be in a few years. what life will look like.’

your steps slow slightly as you take in the question. it’s not that you haven’t thought about it, you have, more times than you can count. you just didn’t know he had too.

‘yeah,’ you admit, squeezing his hand. ‘i think about it sometimes.’

his lips twitch into a small smile, like that was the answer he was hoping for.

you both keep walking, the water lapping at your feet, until he speaks again. ‘do you ever think about kids?’

you freeze for just a second, not because you’re caught off guard, but because the thought of it, the thought of him with a child, of a tiny hand gripping his, of his laugh filling a home that belongs to both of you, is enough to steal your breath.

you look up at him, searching his face for hesitation, but there’s none. just quiet patience, quiet hope.

‘yeah,’ you say softly. ‘i do.’

his smile grows, slow and sure. ‘me too. all the time.’

his voice is steady, sure, but there’s something deeper in it, something tender. ‘i think about how good you’d be with them,’ he continues. ‘how i’d love to see you as a mum.’

your chest tightens at the thought. ‘you’d be a great dad,’ you whisper. ‘they’d be so lucky.’

he stops walking then, turning to face you fully. the waves roll in, barely brushing against your toes, but you barely notice.

‘we’d be lucky,’ he murmurs.

his hand slips from yours, and for a split second, your heart drops.

then, he reaches into his pocket.

your breath catches.

‘joão—’

‘i was gonna wait,’ he says quickly, almost like he’s nervous. ‘i had this whole plan. something big, something special. but… i don’t think i can anymore.’

he exhales, like he’s steadying himself, then pulls out a small velvet box.

the world tilts.

the ring inside is simple but beautiful, exactly what you would’ve wanted. and suddenly, everything clicks, the way he’s been acting lately, the lingering looks, the quiet moments where he seemed lost in thought.

‘i love you,’ he says, his voice steady now. ‘and i don’t want to wait for that future. i want it to start now.’

tears well in your eyes, your chest full, and you nod before you even find your voice.

‘yes,’ you whisper. then, stronger, ‘yes. of course, yes.’

his relief is visible, his whole body relaxing as he slides the ring onto your finger. it fits perfectly.

then he’s kissing you, his hands framing your face, soft and sure.

and for the first time, the future doesn’t feel so far away.

it’s here. it’s real. and it’s yours.

[pankowcrumbs]

Something Like Magic X Will Poulter (Requested)

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

18+

Plot: You and Will have sex after only dating for a few weeks.

I was sat on the edge of Will’s bed, my bare feet brushing against the soft carpet, while he moved around the room in that calm, careful way of his. The bedside lamp cast a golden glow, warming the room and making the shadows stretch long and comforting. Outside, the London rain pattered against the windows, almost rhythmic, like the soft thump of a heartbeat.

We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks now. Not long in the grand scheme of things, but enough to know that he made me laugh like no one else, that I could talk to him about anything, and that his presence felt more like home than anywhere I’d ever known.

And tonight… well, tonight felt different.

Not because anything had been said out loud, but because of the way he looked at me over dinner, the way our hands lingered together when he passed me the wine, the way our laughter kept trailing off into silence the kind where your stomach flips, where you both just know.

He sat next to me, his thigh brushing against mine, and neither of us moved away.

“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice low and steady. God, that voice.

I nodded, biting my lower lip. “Yeah. Just a bit… nervous.”

His brows pulled together instantly, and he reached out, fingers skimming over mine.

“We don’t have to do anything. Not unless you’re sure. Not unless you want to,” he said, eyes locked on mine.

“I do,” I whispered, feeling the honesty in my chest. “I really do. I just… I care about you. A lot. And this feels different. Important.”

His hand squeezed mine. “It is different,” he said, quieter now. “And you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. But I also want you to feel safe, Y/N. Always.”

I smiled then, my heart thudding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “I feel safer with you than I do with anyone.”

That was all it took. He leaned in, slow and soft, giving me time to pull away if I wanted. I didn’t. Our lips met in the gentlest kiss not rushed, not frantic. Just full of meaning.

My hand moved to his jaw, feeling the slight scruff under my fingertips. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and I melted. It wasn’t just want it was everything. Emotion. Trust. Need.

When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You always have been.”

I laughed softly. “You’re biased.”

“I’m right,” he said, kissing me again. This time it was more insistent, his hand finding my waist, my fingers curling into the soft cotton of his shirt. The air shifted not in a way that felt pressuring, but in a way that felt inevitable.

His lips traced a path down the side of my jaw, over my neck, featherlight. I tilted my head to give him more access, breathing him in. Will always smelled like sandalwood and something warm I couldn’t name. His hands explored my back, never rushing, always asking in his silence if this was still okay. And it was. God, it was.

He leaned back, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Still with me?”

“All in,” I whispered.

I stood up and let him help me pull my jumper over my head, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked at me like I was something precious not something to be conquered, but something to be honoured.

His hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, and I stepped forward, brushing his fingers aside and doing them myself, one by one. He stood still, letting me take my time. I noticed the way his chest rose and fell faster, how his throat bobbed when I kissed just under his collarbone.

“You’re shaking,” I murmured.

He chuckled nervously. “Only because this means more to me than I know how to put into words.”

I kissed him again, and somehow we were both breathless, like this was something we’d waited a lifetime for. And maybe, in a way, we had.

We made our way to the bed, tangled in each other’s limbs, and I felt like the world had shrunk to just the space between us. His kisses trailed over my shoulders, across my stomach, slow and reverent. Every touch was deliberate, a promise that he’d never rush me, never treat this like something fleeting.

At one point, I laughed nervous and giddy and he smiled against my skin.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“I’m great,” I replied, brushing my fingers through his hair. “This feels… right.”

“Yeah,” he said, kissing my wrist. “It really does.”

His lips attached to my breasts hands and mouth working together to nip and lick every inch making me feel worshipped.

"I want you on top" He says suddenly and flips us over "I want to see your gorgeous boobs while you ride me"

I was flustered with want and need as I climbed on top of him.

He put on a condom quickly after ripping the wrapper from it with his teeth.

Once it was on I slowly lowered myself on making us both moan at how deeply it when so quickly.

"Fuck" he cursed out making a face biting his lip "just like that baby"

I started to move riding him taking every inch of him like it was made for me both of us moaning while his hands came up to palm my breasts.

We worked together moaning and kissing and finding our rhythm until we reached our climaxis together.

The rest of the night was a blur of whispered words, slow movements, and quiet laughter. It wasn’t just about physicality it was about connection. Every touch said, I see you. I want you. I care about you.

When it was over, I was curled up against his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my back.

“You alright?” he asked sleepily.

“Mmm,” I hummed. “More than alright.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I meant what I said. You’re beautiful."

Tears prickled at my eyes. “You make me feel wanted. Not just for this. But for everything.”

He pulled me closer, wrapping the blanket around us both. “That’s because I do. Want everything with you.”

We fell asleep like that tangled, warm, and content. It wasn’t perfect. It was better. Because it was real. Because it was us.