#thinking about them playing darts and doing dares~

[creature-beast]

I desperately need more aldur and joruf content

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

omg PLSSSS do a sequel to ‘under a false alter’ like PLSSS ANDDD i wanna know everything about them

how’s married life? how has she adjusted to marriage? what does he think about her? i need banter i need sexual tension I NEED EVERYTHING PLSSS oh and lots of smut THANK YOUU

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʟʟᴀ ᴡᴀʟʟs

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 10k | Proof read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Summary: No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to escape your new husband, not that your father makes it any easier for you.

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage) SMUT, grinding, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Scars, Voyeurism, Spitting, both give switch vibes, the reader has a little angsty past, biting, misogyny, almost drowning

A/n: I've never been so grateful for the amount of love this has received. I hope I do it justice with this part two. Lots of love and joy. ALSO, WE GET A MARCUS POV AT ONE POINT hehe

It had been three days since your "marriage" to Marcus, and the silence between you two had been a welcome respite. The tension in the air was thick, each of you occupying your own space, minding your own business. You hoped it would stay that way. Mornings were spent in relative peace, with Marcus at one end of the breakfast table and you at the other.

Taking a bite of a grape, you glared across the table where your father sat with his mistress, Aurelia. The sight of her playing with your father's hair made your stomach churn. The woman who had tormented you for so long was now lounging comfortably in your home, smugly flaunting her relationship with your father. They exchanged whispered words and glances filled with a shared history that excluded you. Aurelia's laughter echoed off the walls, a sound that grated against your nerves.

You noticed Marcus watching them too, his expression unreadable as he observed the easy familiarity between your father and his lover. As if sensing your gaze, Aurelia's eyes flicked towards you, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze as if daring you to disrupt their blissful morning routine. It was a calculated move, a reminder that despite your marriage to Marcus, some things remained unchanged.

"My love, we should go to the villa," Aurelia cooed, her eyes darting towards you with a malicious glint. She was clearly enjoying your discomfort. You could practically taste the bile rising in your throat at the sight and sound of her.

Your father chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate. "Ah, my dear Aurelia, always full of wonderful ideas," he replied, his hand finding hers across the table. His gaze met yours briefly, a hint of apology in his eyes before returning his attention to Aurelia. "Perhaps we should make a day of it. Just the two of us."

Aurelia leaned in closer to him, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Or we could make it a family affair," she suggested with a sly smile, her gaze flickering towards Marcus and then back to you, her implication clear.

Marcus tensed beside you, his jaw clenching subtly as he watched the exchange. His eyes briefly met yours, a silent question lingering between you. You shrugged imperceptibly, unsure of what to make of Aurelia's suggestion.

"We'll see," Marcus finally interjected, his tone neutral but his gaze fixed on Aurelia. "It might be a good idea to get some fresh air."

Aurelia chuckled softly, her gaze lingering on Marcus for a moment longer than necessary before turning back to your father. "Yes, fresh air could do us all some good," she agreed, her smile widening as if she had won some small victory.

The comment landed heavily, striking you with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Father, that is not—" you began to protest, but Marcus cut you off.

"Parents don't come on a honeymoon," Marcus interjected firmly. "We'll go alone. It's tradition."

Your father looked to protest, but Marcus continued, a subtle urgency in his tone. "It’s important for us to have time alone to... solidify our bond," he explained, casting a meaningful glance at your father. "Besides, it would give her a break from the current... dynamics here."

Your father's brows furrowed as he considered Marcus's words, his gaze shifting between you and Aurelia. It was clear he was torn, wanting to spend time with his lover but also recognizing the benefit of giving you some space away from Aurelia's influence.

"Very well," your father conceded, though his expression remained stern. "But remember, you must be back by fall. And I expect you to return with news of an heir."

The ultimatum hung heavily in the air, weighing down your heart. Visiting your mother was a rare privilege, one you couldn't afford to pass up. But the thought of being with Marcus, of possibly bearing his child, filled you with dread.

"You can't be serious," you whispered, turning to face your father. "You can't make me do this."

His expression was unwavering, a stern reminder of the power he held over you. "It's for your own good," he said simply. "And for the good of our family."

Marcus's gaze remained locked onto yours, a blend of authority and challenge. "It's settled, then," he declared firmly. "We'll leave in the morning."

You bristled, your skin tingling with a mixture of anger and an unwelcome flicker of desire. "This isn't over," you warned, your voice quivering with emotion. "I won't be your pawn."

A dark chuckle escaped Marcus, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I never thought you were," he replied coolly. "But we are bound together now. Whether you like it or not."

The next morning, you found yourself in a lavish carriage, the countryside rolling by in a blur of green and gold. Marcus sat opposite you, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. The silence between you was heavy, fraught with unspoken words and simmering tension.

"I hate you," you said suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I hate everything about this."

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Do you?" he asked, his tone almost mocking. "Or do you hate that you can't control it?"

You glared at him, your fists clenching in your lap. "You think you're so clever," you muttered. "But you don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

"Maybe not," he conceded. "But I intend to find out."

You turned your gaze away from him, looking out the window as the scenery shifted. The villa was near the ocean, a place you knew well. It was where you had grown up, where you had spent countless days playing in the sand and swimming in the waves. The familiarity of the landscape brought a rush of memories, both comforting and bittersweet.

Despite the beauty of the place, the reality of your situation weighed heavily on you. The promise of seeing your mother again was the only thing that had convinced you to agree to this honeymoon, but the thought of returning pregnant filled you with dread. You knew your father’s ultimatum was a trap, a way to ensure your compliance and submission.

"I won't return pregnant," you said firmly, breaking the silence. "I'm only doing this to see my mother."

Marcus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You think you can control that?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can decide what happens between us?"

"I can try," you retorted, meeting his gaze with defiance. "I won't let you dictate my life."

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You’re stubborn, I'll give you that. But you underestimate the power of our bond. We are married now, and that means something."

"Not to me," you said, your voice trembling with anger. "This marriage is just a prison, a way to control me."

"It doesn't have to be," he said, his tone softening slightly. "We could make it something more, something real."

You scoffed, turning back to the window. "I doubt that," you muttered, your heart heavy with resentment and fear.

As the carriage continued its journey, you lost yourself in thoughts of the past and the uncertain future. The villa by the ocean, once a place of joy and freedom, now seemed like a gilded cage. The waves crashing against the shore were a stark reminder of the turbulent emotions within you, a mix of anger, sadness, and a glimmer of hope that you couldn't quite extinguish.

When the carriage finally arrived at the villa, you were both relieved and apprehensive. The grand entrance and the familiar scent of the sea filled you with a sense of nostalgia, but the presence of Marcus at your side was an ever-present reminder of the new reality you were forced to accept.

As you stepped out of the carriage, Marcus placed a hand on your back, guiding you forward. The touch was both possessive and surprisingly gentle, a contradiction that left you feeling even more conflicted.

"We'll make a fresh start here," he declared, his voice tinged with sincerity. "No more fighting. Let's give this a real chance."

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Then we keep trying," he said simply. "Until we do."

You studied him intently, trying to gauge the truth in his words. The weight of his gaze held yours, earnest and unwavering. After a moment of contemplation, you spoke, your voice tinged with skepticism. "What makes you so sure we can make this work?"

Marcus sighed softly, his hand falling to his side. "Because I'm not here to control you," he explained gently. "All I want is communication. That's all we need to make this work—open and honest communication."

His words resonated with a truth you hadn't expected. Despite your reservations, a flicker of hope stirred within you. "Communication," you echoed, testing the word on your tongue. It sounded simple, yet laden with potential.

You'd been at the villa for two days, and despite everything, you had managed to avoid Marcus and even sleep in separate bedrooms. Meal times were awkward, the silence between you both louder than any words could have been. You had resolved to stay like that for the entire three weeks your father had given you to "get pregnant." But your alcohol tolerance had other plans.

Each morning, you found yourself waking early to escape to the farthest corners of the villa, the sprawling gardens and the serene lake providing a much-needed sanctuary. You spent your days wandering through the lush greenery, finding solace in the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. Marcus, it seemed, had taken a similar approach, retreating to his own activities and leaving you undisturbed. The villa was vast enough to make this evasion possible, yet each evening you couldn't help but feel the walls closing in, the loneliness amplifying your homesickness.

The memories of your mother haunted you. The villa, though beautiful, reminded you painfully of the home you'd left behind and the loving presence of your mother. You missed her gentle voice, her comforting embrace, and her wisdom. The separation weighed heavily on your heart, each passing hour a reminder of the emotional distance that now lay between you.

It was late afternoon when you asked one of the maids to bring you a drink. A mistake, you realized too late, not specifying how strong it should be. Without your father's supervision, you had indulged far too much. The room spun around you, and your vision blurred as you stumbled your way toward the dining room.

You pushed open the heavy door, the sudden light from the chandelier making you squint. Marcus was already there, a book in his hands, but his eyes snapped to you the moment you entered. You could feel his gaze like a weight on your skin, making the room feel even hotter than it already was.

"Well, if it isn't my estranged bride," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. He put down his book, his posture straightening as he watched you struggle to find your footing.

You squinted at him, the light from the chandelier making your head throb. "Don't start," you warned, though your voice came out more slurred than stern.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Start what? Observing the obvious? You're drunk."

You staggered forward, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "I'm fine," you insisted, though you nearly tripped over your own feet.

"Fine?" he echoed, his voice dripping with skepticism. "You're a mess."

You shot him a glare, your temper flaring. "Like you care," you spat. "You're just loving this, aren't you? Seeing me like this."

He stepped closer, his expression darkening. "No, actually, I'm not. You're making a fool of yourself."

"Better a fool than a tyrant," you retorted, your fists clenching at your sides. "You think you can control me, just like my father."

Marcus's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. "I don't need to control you," he replied, his hands gripping your arms. "I just need you to stop acting like a child."

You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. "Don't touch me," you hissed, your anger boiling over. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

His eyes flashed with irritation. "Someone has to since you clearly can't handle yourself."

"You're such a pompous ass," you shot back, your voice rising. "Do you really think I wanted any of this? To be stuck with you?"

His grip tightened, but his voice remained dangerously calm. "You think I wanted this either? To be saddled with a spoiled, reckless girl who can't even hold her liquor?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, the alcohol fueling your reckless words. "I hate you," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I hate everything about this, and I hate you."

Marcus's eyes darkened, his grip on your arms firm but not painful. "Good," he said, his voice low and intense. "Use that hate. Let it drive you. But don't you dare make a fool of yourself in front of everyone."

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "You don't get to tell me how to feel," you choked out. "Or what to do."

He sighed, his expression softening slightly. "I'm not trying to control you," he said quietly. "I'm trying to keep you from hurting yourself."

You glared at him, your vision blurring. "I don't need your help," you insisted, though even you knew how weak it sounded.

"Too bad," he said simply, lifting you into his arms with ease. "You're getting it anyway."

You struggled weakly, your head spinning. "Put me down," you demanded, though your voice lacked conviction.

"Not a chance," he replied, carrying you toward his room. "You're staying where I can keep an eye on you."

You hated the feeling of being so helpless, so dependent on him. "You're insufferable," you muttered, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"And you're stubborn," he retorted, his grip on you firm but gentle. "But I'm not leaving you like this."

He pushed open the door to his room and set you down on the large, plush bed, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer than necessary. You tried to sit up, but your body refused to cooperate.

"I'm sleeping in my room," you said, trying to push yourself up, but failing miserably.

"Not tonight," Marcus said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He knelt in front of you, removing your shoes with careful precision. "You're staying here where I can keep an eye on you."

You glared at him, though it lacked any real heat. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He looked up, meeting your gaze with a small, knowing smile. "Maybe a little," he admitted. "But only because I finally get to take care of you, whether you like it or not."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't need your help," you repeated weakly.

He stood, his eyes never leaving yours. "Maybe not," he said softly. "But I'm here anyway."

You tried to maintain your defiance, but your vision was blurry and your body was betraying you. The alcohol had dulled your senses, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. You attempted to sit up straighter, to keep the conversation going, to keep your mind sharp. But the effort was in vain. Your head felt heavy, and your eyelids were drooping despite your best efforts.

"Don't fall asleep," you murmured to yourself, the words slurring together.

Marcus's expression softened, and he crouched down beside the bed, his face level with yours. "You need to rest," he said, his voice gentle.

"I can... stay awake," you insisted, but your body had other plans. Your limbs felt like lead, and the comfort of the bed was becoming impossible to resist.

Marcus reached out, his hand brushing a lock of hair from your face. "Just sleep," he urged. "I'll be right here."

You tried to fight it, tried to keep your eyes open, but the pull of sleep was too strong. As you stared into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze was the last thing you saw before everything went dark. His eyes held a depth that made your heart ache, a mixture of frustration, determination, and something else you couldn't quite name.

Your breathing slowed, and you felt yourself slipping away, the warmth of the bed enveloping you. Marcus's presence beside you was a strange comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you weren't alone. His hand lingered on your face for a moment longer, his touch surprisingly tender.

The last thing you saw before sleep claimed you was his face, the worry and care etched into his features. Your final thought was a confused jumble of emotions, a mixture of anger, defiance, and a reluctant sense of safety.

I watched her struggle to stay awake, her eyelids fluttering as the effects of the alcohol took hold. Her earlier defiance had melted into a fragile vulnerability that tightened my chest. Despite everything, there was something about her that stirred a protective instinct in me.

She hated me, and I couldn't blame her. This marriage wasn't her choice, just as it wasn't truly mine. But here we were, bound together by circumstances beyond our control. I had accepted the arrangement with a single, desperate hope – to escape the life of a gladiator. To live a life where survival wasn't measured by the swing of a sword.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful now, a stark contrast to the fiery woman who had spat venom at me earlier. Her reputation had preceded her – wild, unladylike, with a rebellious streak that made her father's blood boil. Any other man would have turned her away, seen her as too much trouble. But not me.

I was no stranger to trouble. Hell, I lived in it every day in the arena. So when this opportunity arose, I took it. Perhaps, deep down, I saw a bit of myself in her – trapped, fighting against the current, desperate for a way out.

I leaned back in my chair, the wood creaking softly under my weight. The villa was quiet, save for the soft sounds of the ocean outside. It was beautiful here, far removed from the chaos of our everyday lives. Maybe, just maybe, it could be a place for new beginnings.

But that was wishful thinking, and I knew it. We were too different, too stubborn, and too caught up in our own struggles to see eye to eye. Still, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe over time, we could find common ground. Maybe I could help her see that not all men were out to control her, to use her.

As she slept, I couldn't help but reflect on our wedding night. I had been a little drunk, my senses dulled by the wine and the weight of what lay ahead. I hadn’t known what to expect, and the confusion of hate and passion made me feel odd, out of place in my own skin. She had initiated sex that night, surprising me with her boldness. Yet now she pretended I was nothing more than a rodent, something to be tolerated.

But I wasn’t blind. I saw the way she looked at me, the physical attraction she tried to mask with disdain. It was confusing, this mix of desire and loathing. I wanted her, but I wouldn’t force it. I refused to become the monster she seemed to believe I was.

My eyes wandered over her sleeping form, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair splayed out over the pillow. She looked peaceful, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a future where she looked at me with that same peace when awake.

I remembered the way she had clung to me on our wedding night, her body warm and pliant against mine. The way she had moaned my name, her defenses lowered, just for a moment. It felt like a betrayal that she could feel so passionately in bed yet treat me with such coldness during the day.

Watching her now, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment. She had fallen asleep in my presence, a small step forward in this tangled mess we found ourselves in. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A sign that maybe, just maybe, there was a way for us to find common ground.

The exhaustion from the day's events washed over me, and I settled into the chair, unable to tear my gaze away from her. She shifted slightly, a soft murmur escaping her lips. The urge to go to her, to hold her and comfort her, was strong, but I stayed put. Pushing her now would only drive her further away.

As my eyelids grew heavy, I thought about the road ahead. The days would be long and difficult, filled with arguments and misunderstandings. But for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work. Maybe we could find a way to understand each other, to build something real from the ashes of our forced union.

With that thought, I let myself drift off, the rhythmic sound of her breathing a strange, comforting lullaby. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, we had this moment of fragile peace. And in the quiet of the night, it was enough.

You woke up with a slight headache, the overwhelming scent of a man filling your senses. It was a heady mix of sweat, leather, and something distinctly masculine. You sat up, and the room spun a little. A groan escaped your lips as you checked to make sure your clothes were still on. You didn't remember him taking off anything other than your shoes, but he was still a man, after all. Your eyes landed on Marcus, uncomfortably slouched in a chair facing the bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of him asleep, vulnerable, stirred something unfamiliar in you, but you quickly pushed it aside.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stood up slowly, testing your balance. The headache pounded behind your eyes, a painful reminder of your overindulgence. You made your way to the washbasin, splashing cold water on your face, hoping it would help clear the fog in your head. After a moment, you straightened, took a deep breath, and left the room, eager to put some distance between yourself and Marcus.

The villa was quiet as you made your way to the dining room, the only sounds the distant call of seabirds and the gentle lap of waves against the shore. The familiarity of it all made you ache with a longing for simpler times. You remembered your childhood here, playing on the beach, carefree and happy before the world became so complicated.

As you entered the dining room, a maid appeared, carrying a tray with a bowl and a single, raw egg. She approached you with a polite smile, her eyes downcast.

"Good morning, my lady. I've brought you something to help with... pregnancy," she said, her voice hesitant.

Your eyes narrowed, and you snapped, "I'm not pregnant. The only remedy from an old wife I want is a hangover remedy."

The maid's eyes widened in surprise and fear. "I'm sorry, my lady. It's just that raw eggs are believed to help with getting pregnant. I meant no offense."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Just bring me something for this headache, please."

She nodded quickly and scurried away, leaving you with the bowl and the raw egg. You stared at it with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. The idea of swallowing a raw egg made your stomach churn, but you knew that in the world you lived in, old wives' tales often carried weight.

Moments later, the maid returned with a cup of herbal tea and a damp cloth. "Here, my lady. This should help."

You took the tea gratefully, sipping it slowly. The warm liquid soothed your throat, and the bitter herbs began to work their magic on your pounding head. You sat down at the table, placing the cloth over your eyes and leaning back in the chair.

The quiet was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You peeked from under the cloth to see Marcus standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He had changed into fresh clothes, but the scent of him from the night before still lingered in your nostrils.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Not really," you replied, your tone sharp. "What do you want?"

He walked over, sitting across from you. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

You glared at him, the words from the previous night echoing in your mind. "I don't need your concern."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "You were quite the handful last night."

"Well, if you hadn't dragged me off to bed like some helpless damsel, maybe I wouldn't have been," you shot back, the anger flaring up again.

"You're right," he said, surprising you. "But I didn't want you hurting yourself. Despite what you think, I don't want to control you."

You scoffed, lowering the cloth and meeting his gaze. "You keep saying that, but your actions say otherwise."

He sighed, rubbing his temples as if he, too, had a headache. "Look, I know you didn't want this marriage any more than I did. But we're in this together now. Fighting each other isn't going to make it any easier."

You stared at him, the sincerity in his eyes catching you off guard. You wanted to lash out, to keep up the walls you had built, but something in his demeanor made you pause.

"Why did you accept this marriage?" you asked quietly, the question that had been nagging at you since the wedding.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. "I hoped it would be a way out," he admitted. "A way to escape the life of a gladiator. And yes, I knew of your reputation. But I also knew that any other man wouldn't have accepted you, not with the rumors."

His honesty disarmed you, the anger slowly seeping out of you. You wanted to understand his motives further, but another question gnawed at you.

"So, you did this for your freedom?" you asked, trying to grasp his intentions.

"And maybe for yours too," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours again. "I know what it's like to be trapped in a life you didn't choose."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man behind the mask, and it left you feeling more conflicted than ever. You didn't know if you could trust him, but you couldn't deny the small spark of hope his words ignited.

The sound of the waves outside grew louder in the silence, as if echoing the turmoil within you. You took another sip of the tea, letting the warmth spread through you, grounding you in the moment.

Marcus shifted in his seat, breaking the silence. "Do you want to visit the pier?" he asked, his voice tentative.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "The pier?" you echoed, memories flooding back. You remembered visiting the pier with your mother, the laughter, the carefree days. Since returning to the villa, you hadn't gone to see it. The thought of revisiting that place brought a mix of nostalgia and longing, but also a sense of trepidation.

"Yes, the pier," Marcus repeated, watching you closely. "I thought you might like to see it."

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to reject his offer out of sheer stubbornness, to prove you didn't need anything from him. But another part of you, the part that missed the simpler times, yearned to go.

"Why do you care?" you snapped, crossing your arms defensively.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not about caring. I just thought it might be nice for you to see it again."

You glared at him, trying to keep your walls up. "You think taking me to the pier will make everything better? That I'll suddenly forget everything and be grateful?"

"No," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I don't expect anything. I'm just offering."

The sincerity in his voice made you falter. You hated the way he could make you feel so uncertain, so conflicted. But the thought of the pier, of the memories it held, was too tempting to ignore.

"Fine," you said, your tone laced with defiance. "I'll go."

Marcus nodded, standing up. "Meet me at the front door when you're ready."

You finished your tea and stood up, taking a deep breath. You made your way to your room to change into something more suitable for the walk. As you dressed, your mind wandered back to the days with your mother, the laughter and the joy of simpler times. You hadn't realized how much you missed it until now.

When you stepped outside, Marcus was waiting by the villa's front door. He gave you a brief nod, his expression unreadable. You walked down the steps and joined him, the air thick with tension.

"Let's get this over with," you muttered, starting down the path that led to the pier.

The walk down the small hill was silent at first, the only sounds the distant calls of seabirds and the gentle rustling of the trees. You kept your eyes forward, determined not to let Marcus see the turmoil within you.

"Did you ever come here often?" Marcus asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes," you replied curtly. "With my mother."

He nodded, glancing around. "It's a beautiful place."

"It was," you said sharply, quickening your pace.

Marcus matched your stride easily. "You know, you don't have to be so hostile."

You shot him a glare. "I wouldn't have to be if you didn't keep treating me like some delicate flower."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Trust me, there's nothing delicate about you."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "And what exactly do you know about me, Marcus?"

"Enough to know you're stubborn as a mule," he retorted, a smirk playing at his lips.

You bristled, your temper flaring. "Well, at least I'm not a brute who thinks he can solve everything with his fists."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think of me?"

You turned to face him, your eyes blazing. "That's exactly what I think of you."

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, quickening your pace down the path to the pier. The sand and salt air grew stronger as you neared the shoreline, the familiar sights and sounds stirring a bittersweet nostalgia.

When you arrived at the pier, you paused, taking in the scene before you. The wooden structure stretched out over the water, the waves gently lapping against the posts. You could almost hear your mother's laughter, feel her hand in yours as you walked together.

Marcus stood beside you, his presence a steadying force despite your irritation. "Shall we?" he said, gesturing towards the pier.

With a sigh, you stepped onto the weathered planks, the wood creaking slightly underfoot. You walked in silence, the only sound the distant call of seabirds and the gentle lapping of the waves.

As you reached the end of the pier, you leaned against the railing, gazing out at the horizon. The sea stretched endlessly before you, a vast expanse of blue that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world.

Marcus joined you, his gaze also fixed on the horizon. "It's peaceful here," he said quietly.

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of calm. "It is."

For a moment, the tension between you seemed to fade, replaced by a shared appreciation for the beauty around you. But the peace was short-lived.

You turned to leave, but your foot caught on a loose board. The world tilted as you stumbled, losing your balance. With a yelp, you plunged into the water below. The icy shock of the sea stole your breath, and you struggled to stay afloat, panic surging through you. The water was a merciless force, dragging you under. Your limbs flailed wildly, but you couldn't seem to break the surface. The salty liquid filled your mouth, choking any attempt at calling for help. Your heart pounded, every beat a frantic plea for air as you fought against the pull of the sea.

In the midst of your panic, a shadow loomed above you. Through the haze of water and fear, you saw Marcus diving in. His strong arms encircled you, pulling you upwards with a force that felt both powerful and reassuring. "I can't swim!" you wanted to shout, but the words were swallowed by the water. Instead, you could only gasp, your chest burning as you fought to breathe. Marcus's grip was unyielding, his strength a lifeline. He hauled you to the surface, your head breaking through to the sweet relief of air. You coughed violently, expelling the seawater that had threatened to drown you. Your vision blurred, but you felt Marcus's steady hands guiding you to the shore.

The sand was a rough but welcome texture beneath you as Marcus laid you down, his grip loosening now that you were safe. You continued to cough, your lungs heaving as you expelled the last of the water. You were soaked to the bone, the chill of the sea clinging to your skin. Marcus stood over you, an amused glint in his eyes despite the concern etched into his features.

"I thought you said you grew up here," he remarked his tone light but edged with teasing.

You glared at him through your exhaustion, still catching your breath. "Just...shut up," you managed to rasp, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment as you realized how helpless you'd been.

He crouched beside you, his expression softening slightly. "You should have told me you couldn't swim," he said, a hint of genuine concern breaking through his teasing demeanor.

You sat up slowly, brushing sand from your wet hair. "I didn't think it would matter," you muttered, annoyed more at yourself than at him. "And I didn't expect to fall in."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, it's a good thing I was here to save you."

You shot him a withering look. "Don't let it go to your head."

He grinned, clearly enjoying your irritation. "Too late."

You pushed yourself to your feet, shivering as the cool breeze hit your wet skin. "I need to get cleaned up," you said, more to yourself than to him.

"Do you need help with that too?" Marcus asked, his tone mischievous.

You glared at him again, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not a chance."

As you made your way back to the villa, you couldn't shake the conflicting feelings that Marcus stirred in you. His arrogance was infuriating, but there was something about his confidence and the way he had jumped in to save you without hesitation that you couldn't ignore.

"Your father said you grew up here, and you can't swim?" he mocked, shaking his head. "What kind of life have you led?"

You glared at him, anger and humiliation warring within you. "Not that it's any of your business, but my mother didn't want me learning. She was afraid of the sea."

He raised an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. "And you? Are you afraid of the sea?"

You looked away, the memories of your mother's fear mingling with your own. "Maybe," you admitted quietly.

Marcus sighed, helping you to your feet. "You could have told me."

"And you could stop assuming you know everything about me," you shot back, refusing to meet his gaze.

He paused briefly, then chuckled softly. "Fair enough."

Standing there, dripping wet and shivering, the earlier bickering had faded, leaving behind a tentative peace. The walk back to the villa had taken an unexpected turn, yet as you gazed out over the water, a curious sense of calm settled within you.

He remained quiet, and you welcomed the respite of silence as you reached the villa. You marched inside, heading straight for your room. The maids hurried over, their eyes wide with concern.

"Prepare a bath," you ordered, stripping off your wet clothes. "And make it quick."

The maids hurried to obey, filling the tub with steaming water and adding fragrant oils. You stepped in, sinking into the warmth with a sigh of relief. The water soothed your aching muscles and washed away the sand and salt.

As you soaked, the events of the day replayed in your mind. The bickering with Marcus, the fall into the water, his unexpected rescue. You couldn't deny the conflicting emotions he stirred in you, the blend of anger, frustration, and something else you couldn't quite identify. The bathwater's warmth wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, and you let out a long, slow breath, trying to relax.

Just as you were beginning to feel at ease, the door to your room creaked open. Your eyes snapped open, and you saw Marcus standing in the doorway, his eyes widening as he realized you were still in the bath.

"Gods above, Marcus!" you shrieked, sinking deeper into the water and grabbing a towel to cover yourself.

He quickly turned his back, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't know you were still in here!"

"What part of the closed door didn't you understand?" you snapped, fumbling to wrap the towel around yourself.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he said, his voice slightly muffled as he faced away from you. "About what happened today."

"Can it wait until I'm dressed?" you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He sighed. "I suppose it could, but I thought we should clear the air sooner rather than later."

You finished securing the towel and stood up carefully, stepping out of the tub. "Fine, just... turn around and give me a moment."

Marcus nodded and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. You quickly dried off and pulled on a simple, comfortable dress. The fabric felt soft against your skin, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

"Okay, you can come back in," you called, tying your hair back with a ribbon.

The door opened again, and Marcus entered, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry about that," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You waved a hand dismissively. "Just don't make a habit of it."

He chuckled, then grew serious. "I wanted to talk to you about learning to swim."

You raised an eyebrow. "Learning to swim? Now?"

He nodded. "Yes. After what happened today, I think it's important. You grew up by the sea, but you can't swim. It's something you should know, for your own safety."

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. "And you think you're the one to teach me?"

"Who else?" he replied with a shrug. "Besides, it might be a way for us to... not bicker so much."

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head. "You really think swimming lessons will solve our problems?"

Marcus gave you a small smile. "It couldn't hurt to try."

You thought about it for a moment, the memory of the cold water and the panic still fresh in your mind. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. Learning to swim would be useful, and maybe it would help ease the tension between you.

"Fine," you said at last. "I'll let you teach me. But if you mock me, even once, I'll throw you into the sea."

Marcus laughed, a genuine, warm sound that surprised you. "Deal."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and determination. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning," he said. "We'll go down to the beach and start there."

You gave a reluctant nod. "Alright. Tomorrow morning."

As Marcus turned to leave, you couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope. Maybe this would be a step towards something better. Or at the very least, it would give you a chance to prove you weren't as helpless as he seemed to think.

You were dreaming so sweetly, the air from the balcony streaming into the room, bringing with it the scent of the sea. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant call of seabirds blended into a lullaby that cradled you in its arms. In your dream, you were walking along the beach with your mother, her laughter mingling with the sound of the waves.

Suddenly, a hand on your shoulder jolted you awake. "Get up!" Marcus's voice was a harsh whisper in the pre-dawn darkness.

You blinked, disoriented, your mind still clinging to the remnants of your dream. "What...?" you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

"It's time to start your training," he said, pulling the curtains open. The sky was still a deep indigo, with the faintest hint of light on the horizon.

With a groan, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, still half-asleep. "Alright, alright. I'm up."

"Good," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Get dressed and meet me outside."

You quickly changed into a simple tunic and tied your hair back, the cool morning air nipping at your skin. As you stepped out onto the balcony, the first rays of dawn painted the sky in shades of pink and orange. You made your way to the front of the villa, where Marcus was waiting, looking annoyingly alert.

"Could you be any more enthusiastic?" you muttered, stifling another yawn.

He smirked. "I'm just trying to make the most of the day. Unlike some people who would rather sleep through it."

"Some people prefer not to be woken up at the crack of dawn," you retorted, crossing your arms.

"Maybe if some people had learned to swim earlier, we wouldn't be here now," he shot back, starting down the path towards the beach.

You followed him, the cool sand squishing between your toes. "Or maybe if some people weren't so insistent on dragging others out of bed, they could have a more peaceful morning."

He chuckled. "You know, you could just admit that you need the lessons."

"I don't need them," you grumbled, "I just don't want to drown."

"Same thing," he said, shrugging.

The beach stretched out before you, the waves gently lapping at the shore. As you walked, the sound of the sea grew louder, filling the air with its soothing rhythm. The familiar scent of saltwater brought back memories of playing on the sand as a child, carefree and happy.

"Alright," Marcus said, stopping at the edge of the water. "We'll start with the basics. Just try to relax and trust me."

"Trust you," you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's a lot to ask."

He gave you a patient look. "I know. But if you can't trust me, trust that I don't want to have to save you every time you fall into the water."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine. But if you mock me, even once, I swear I'll throw you in."

Marcus laughed, a genuine, warm sound that surprised you. "Deal."

As you waded into the water, you could feel your tunic growing heavier, clinging to your skin. You paused, looking down at the soaked fabric. "This tunic is going to get ruined," you muttered, more to yourself than to Marcus.

With a huff, you turned your back to him and carefully pulled your tunic over your head, tossing it onto the shore. The cool air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you stood bare before him. You waded back into the water, feeling exposed but determined not to let it show.

Marcus watched you with an appraising gaze, his eyes tracing the curve of your shoulders and the lines of your back. There was a moment of silence between you, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Then, without a word, Marcus reached for the hem of his own tunic and pulled it over his head.

The sight of his bare chest took you by surprise. His skin was bronzed from days under the sun, muscles defined and powerful. Droplets of water clung to his torso, catching the sunlight in a way that made you momentarily forget your irritation. His presence was commanding yet strangely comforting, like a force of nature you couldn't resist.

You tore your gaze away, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks. "Alright, enough staring," you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Marcus chuckled softly, stepping into the water beside you. "Just making sure you're not the only one feeling exposed," he remarked his tone light but tinged with something deeper.

You scowled at him, but there was a hint of a smile playing at your lips. "Don't get too comfortable," you warned, trying to regain your composure.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Who says I'm not comfortable already?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no venom in the gesture. "Enough of your smugness. Let's just get this over with."

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Who says I'm not comfortable already?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the flutter in your chest. "Just focus on the lesson, Marcus."

He nodded, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. "Alright, let's get started then."

Marcus led you into the shallows, the cool water lapping at your ankles, then your knees. He moved with an easy confidence, his presence reassuring despite the lingering tension between you.

"First, we need to get you comfortable with the water," he said, his tone more serious now. "Can you float on your back?"

You hesitated, the memory of your earlier panic still fresh. "I can try."

"Good," he said. "I'll support you. Just relax and let the water hold you."

You lay back, feeling his hands under your shoulders and lower back. The sensation of the water buoying you up was strange, but Marcus's steady grip kept you grounded. You focused on the sky above, the blue expanse calming your racing heart.

"See?" he murmured. "You're doing fine."

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "For now."

Marcus chuckled, his hands firm and reassuring. "Now, try to kick your legs gently."

You did as he instructed, the water resisting your movements. It felt awkward, but you persisted, trying to find a rhythm.

"That's it," Marcus encouraged. "Just like that. You're doing great."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. "Maybe this isn't so bad."

Marcus grinned. "I told you. Now, let's move a bit deeper."

He guided you further into the water, his grip never faltering. As the water reached your waist, you felt a flicker of unease but pushed it aside. You were determined to prove you could do this.

"Alright," he said, stopping when the water was up to your chest. "Let's try some basic strokes. I'll show you, then you copy me."

You watched as he demonstrated a simple stroke, his movements smooth and confident. His muscles rippled under the water, every action purposeful and efficient. You tried to mimic him, feeling clumsy in comparison.

"Good," he said, nodding. "But keep your elbows higher. Like this."

He corrected your form, his touch gentle yet precise. You adjusted, trying to follow his guidance.

"Better," he praised. "Now, let's keep practicing."

You continued the lesson, each new skill building your confidence. As you practiced, you couldn't help but feel a growing respect for Marcus. Despite his arrogance, he was a patient and effective teacher.

After a while, Marcus called for a break. You waded to shallower water, grateful for the reprieve. As you stood catching your breath, Marcus studied you thoughtfully.

"You're not afraid of the water, are you?" he asked suddenly.

You shook your head, surprised by the question. "No. I just... never learned to swim."

"Why not?" he pressed, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

You hesitated, the memories tugging at your heart. "My mother... she despised the sea," you began softly. "She preferred the safety and serenity of the countryside. My father, on the other hand, adored it. Most of our family's wealth came from his sea trade ventures. He built his entire empire on the waves."

Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly intrigued. "So your mother didn't share his love for the sea?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "No, quite the opposite. She was terrified of it. She hated the constant worry every time he left on a voyage, the endless nights spent alone. She never understood his obsession with the sea. Their marriage was arranged, just like ours. But unlike us, they never found common ground."

"And your father?" Marcus asked, his tone gentler now.

"My father loved the sea more than anything," you said, your voice tinged with sadness. "He saw it as a source of freedom and wealth. He would spend months at a time on his ships, overseeing his trade routes, and ensuring our fortune grew. The sea was his true mistress."

Marcus seemed to consider this, his expression thoughtful. "So your mother lives in the countryside now?"

You nodded. "Yes. She moved away a few years ago. Couldn't stand the sight of the sea anymore, or the memories it held. She wanted peace, a life without the constant fear and loneliness."

"Do you see her often?" he asked, his curiosity genuine.

"Not as much as I'd like," you admitted. "She visits sometimes, but my father keeps her at a distance. He's still bitter, even after all these years. He sees her as weak, unable to embrace the life he chose."

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sounds like we're both products of difficult marriages."

"Indeed," you replied, meeting his intense gaze with equal fervor. "But I don't want to be trapped like my parents."

Marcus's eyes softened as he stepped closer, his hands finding your waist with a gentle certainty that sent a thrilling shiver through you. Without hesitation, you wrapped your legs around his torso, feeling the strength of his body supporting you effortlessly.

"We won't be trapped," Marcus assured you, his voice low and steady, filled with promise. "Not like them. We'll find our own way, together."

His words, spoken with such conviction, resonated deep within you. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own, forging an unspoken bond between you.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of gold and pink, casting a serene glow over the water, Marcus leaned in closer. His warm breath mingled with yours, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the tranquil sounds of the sea.

With a tenderness that belied his usual stern demeanor, Marcus brushed his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. It was a moment suspended in time, charged with unspoken desire and the promise of something more.

You responded eagerly, your heart racing as you deepened the kiss, surrendering to the intoxicating connection between you. The barriers that had once stood firm melted away with each tender caress of his lips, leaving only the raw, undeniable truth of your shared desire.

 As the kiss grew more fervent, Marcus's hands roamed your body, their touch both possessive and tender. He guided you out of the water, each step a testament to his strength and control. The cool breeze hit your wet skin, but the heat between you and Marcus was undeniable, a fire that neither the sea nor the morning chill could extinguish.

 He laid you down gently on the sand, the grains rough yet grounding beneath you. His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Would it really be so bad to at least try for a baby?" he asked, his voice a mix of longing and challenge.

 You bristled at his words, your defenses rising again. "I'm a child myself," you retorted, your voice trembling with both defiance and uncertainty. "How can I bring another life into this world when I'm still figuring out my own?”

Marcus's gaze softened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "No one said it had to work," he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. "But we can try. Together. We can make our own Path.

 His words were a balm to your fears, a promise of partnership rather than domination. As he leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, you felt the last vestiges of resistance crumble. The passion between you was a living thing, a force that demanded to be acknowledged.

 Marcus's hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of you with a reverence that made you shiver. You arched into his touch, your body responding to his in ways that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. His lips trailed down your neck leaving a path of fire in their wake.

 "Marcus," you breathed your voice a mix of need and wonder. He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away.

 "We don`t have to do this if you're not ready," he said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "But know that I want you. I want us to have a chance."

 You searched his eyes, finding a sincerity that both scared and exhilarated you. "I want you too," you admitted the words a leap of faith. "But this... it changes everything.”

"Then let it change us," he murmured, his lips finding yours once more. The kiss deepened, a blend of urgency and tenderness that left you both breathless.

You felt the rough sand beneath you as Marcus pulled you closer, his hand gripping your cheek firmly as he kissed you passionately. His touch was both possessive and reverent as if he were handling a precious porcelain doll. His hand traveled down your body, caressing every curve with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

He pulled away from the kiss, the sun reflecting off his body, making him glow with an almost ethereal light. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His hand traveled lower, caressing your upper thigh before spreading them, giving him a place to stabilize himself. You felt his length prod at your thigh, the heat of his desire palpable.

Unable to resist, you pulled him in for another kiss, feeling his hips move into your body, his erection grinding against your thigh. "God, you're hard," you murmured, pulling away from the kiss to take in his disheveled appearance.

"I've been hard as a rock since we started the lesson," he teased, his voice thick with lust. He captured your lips again, his hand wandering down to your clit, circling it in slow, teasing motions.

"Marcus," you gasped your voice a mix of need and frustration.

He smirked against your skin, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he bit softly, making you wince. "You dick," you muttered, but your protest was cut short by a moan as he rubbed his length up and down your slick wetness.

Leaning over you, Marcus positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes dark with desire. "I know you want my dick," he said with a smirk, pushing into you with a slow, deliberate thrust.

Your body arched at the sensation, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he began to move. He lifted your legs slightly, pushing your knees to your chest, the new angle allowing him to thrust deeper. The stretch was intense, the feeling of him filling you completely almost overwhelming.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whimpers, but they quickly turned into borderline screams as he brutally fucked into you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and frantically grab at the sand for some stability. You could swear he was rearranging your insides, his cock hitting your G-spot with relentless precision.

Your vision blurred, and all you could feel was the intense pleasure he was giving you. You didn't think getting fucked like this was physically possible, didn't think you were capable of feeling such intense pleasure at the hands of a man.

Marcus's smirk widened as he leaned down, his eyes following the bulge on your lower belly. "Yeah, feel it," he mocked, resting his forehead against yours as he bottomed out again. "Got you stuffed all the way in, huh?"

You couldn't even argue, your eyes brimming with tears as he pressed his palm harder against the bulge. Your eyes clenched shut, but his relentless thrusts only edged you further. He gripped your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him. "No, you keep looking. Taking me so good, gonna—fuck, gonna have to ruin you."

Tears welled at the corners of your eyes as the pressure within you built to an almost unbearable peak. You were so close, so desperately close to the edge. Sensing your state, Marcus's gaze flicked to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and the tears that threatened to spill over.

"Ask nicely, goddess” he grunted, picking up the punishing pace once more. "Use your manners and I'll give you whatever you want." His hands moved to your thighs, forcing them against your stomach, letting him push into you deeper. The sensation made your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening immediately.

"Please... for fuck's sake, let me cum or I'm gonna rip your stupid perfect cock off the second we're done," you managed to grunt through gritted teeth.

He chuckled breathlessly, his hand returning to your clit, pressing rough and rapid circles against it. "We'll work on that," he laughed softly, feeling you rapidly slipping towards the edge. He didn't let up on his ruthless motions, finally pushing you over the brink.

You were loud. Probably too loud. Your scream of release echoed along the shore, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Marcus followed you over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spilled into you, the warmth of his release sending one last wave of pleasure through your already trembling body.

As the intensity of the moment faded, you both lay there, tangled together in the sand, breathing heavily. Marcus's forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try," you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try," you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you.

Marcus's smile widened a glint of mischief in his eyes. "If it feels that good every time," you added with a playful smirk, "I might not mind at all."

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours once more. Just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the kiss again, a voice suddenly called out from behind you.

"Hey! What are you two doing here?" The voice was stern, and authoritative.

You and Marcus scrambled to cover yourselves, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling up as you fumbled with your discarded clothes.

Realization dawned on the guard's face as he took in the sight of Marcus's distinctive, regal features and your own disheveled state. His expression quickly turned from stern to horrified as he realized who he was interrupting.

"I-I'm so sorry, my lord, my lady," he stammered, turning an alarming shade of red. "I didn't realize—"

Marcus, still half-naked and laughing, held up a hand to stop him. "It's alright," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Just a little... misunderstanding."

The guard's eyes darted around, clearly trying to avoid looking directly at either of you. "I'll just... I'll just be going now," he mumbled, backing away quickly before turning and sprinting down the beach.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation breaking the tension that had been lingering. Marcus joined in, his laughter a deep, infectious rumble that made you forget all your worries, if only for a moment.

Once the laughter had subsided, Marcus turned to you, a mischievous look in his eyes. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper, "there's always the sea. No guards to interrupt us there."

You raised an eyebrow, your own smile widening. "Is that so?" you asked, the idea sending a thrill through you.

"Absolutely," he replied, standing up and offering you his hand. "Shall we?"

You took his hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation through you. Together, you made your way to the edge of the water, the cool waves lapping at your feet. Marcus's presence beside you felt grounding, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of the playful breeze and the gentle rush of the sea.

As you reached the water's edge, Marcus pulled you into his arms. The sea welcomed you both with its refreshing embrace, its coolness a stark contrast to the heat that had built between you. You chuckled softly at Marcus's promise, spoken against your lips.

Marcus pulled you into his arms, the sea providing a refreshing contrast to the heat between you. "I promise," he murmured against your lips, "no interruptions this time."

[connorsui]

“Out of all the things that could have happened today... this is at the bottom of the list,” Megumi deadpanned, his arms crossed as he watched the floating toddler.

Yuuji, on the verge of losing it, waved his hands frantically. “How do we get her down!? Gojo-sensei is going to be coming back soon!”

“I didn’t even know she had this much cursed energy to begin with! How is it possible she’s already out and about like this!?” Nobara added, eyes wide with disbelief.

Before anyone could come up with a solution, the giggling toddler blinked out of existence, causing all three students to simultaneously shout, "Eh!?"

“She’s...” Megumi began.

“She’s gone!?” They all said in unison, now staring at the empty space where the child once was.

“What do we do!?” Yuuji panicked, grabbing at his hair.

“This wouldn’t have happened if Kugisaki hadn’t demanded we go out on one of her shopping sprees!” Megumi shot back.

“Oi! Don’t you dare pin this on me! You two were supposed to be the ones looking after her!” Nobara snapped, pushing Megumi with a sharp glare.

Before the argument could escalate, a familiar, lazy voice interrupted them.

“Now, now, let’s not fight over something soo cute.”

All three turned, only to find Gojo Satoru standing a few feet away, his wife by his side, cradling their daughter in her arms. The toddler was happily babbling and playing with her mother’s hair, seemingly unaware of the chaos she had caused.

“Gojo-sensei…” Yuuji mumbled, face turning pale.

“Umm... where did she teleport to?” Nobara asked cautiously.

Gojo grinned behind his blindfold. “Not too far. You kids are lucky... my precious little bundle of joy decided to teleport straight to us!”

You smiled warmly at the trio before your expression turned more concerned. “Are you three okay? Yuuji, you look like you’re—”

“I’m fine!” Yuuji interrupted quickly, attempting a smile that only made him look more distressed.

Nobara cleared her throat. “Are we going to get punished for this by any chance?”

Gojo tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know... Let’s ask the missus here.” He turned to you with a teasing grin. “What do you think, my love? Should we punish these kids for allowing our precious baby of adorable life to almost get away?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glare crossing your face. “Punish them? If anyone’s getting punished, it’s going to be you, Satoru! You were supposed to be watching her!”

Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji watched in stunned silence as you and Gojo bickered, their eyes darting between the two of you. Gojo’s dramatic pout grew deeper as you scolded him.

“I leave her with you, and everything just goes to chaos!”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped, his exaggerated sulking only causing your daughter to giggle harder as she watched her father silently sulk. “cmoonnnn you know I didn't mean too?”

You cut him off with a sigh, adjusting your hold on your daughter, who had now buried her face in your neck. “sure you dont”

The three students shifted awkwardly as Gojo dramatically sighed once more, still sulking. He leaned in toward his daughter, who was still giggling at his antics.

“Your mom is so scary, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I heard that.”

Gojo laughed, his usual carefree demeanor back in full force. “Alright, alright. No harm done, right? She’s back safe and sound. So, no punishment for the kids. I think I’ve suffered enough.”

You smiled softly at him, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Satoru.”

“But thats why yooou loooove me,” he teased, flashing you that signature smile.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Unfortunately for me, yes.”

Behind you, the trio silently muttered to themselves: “why do we have to deal with this"

[little-diable]

All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)

Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta

Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)

She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 

“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 

“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 

“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 

“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”

……

“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 

“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 

“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 

“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).

“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 

“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”

“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 

(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 

“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 

“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.

She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.

“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 

He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.

His toy, his pet, his woman. 

Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 

“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 

“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.

“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”

[simplygojo]

ok ive followed you for awhile and i love your writing youre so talented! if youre open to it i wanted to request something. basically my idea was like (aged up) you nobara, yuji, megumi, maki, toge are friends and you play a spicy truth or dare game... basically it ends with crushes confessing their feelings and spicy preferences/kinks and stuff. i was thinking yuji x reader or megumi x reader but anything works. i totally get if you think this is weird and dont want to do it so no worries! - anon <3

Drink, Dare, and Desire

Authors Note: I loved this request!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I really hope you like this and hope it was something along the lines of what you were looking for! 

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Adult/Megumi Fushiguro x f/reader

Word Count : 3.6K

Warnings : 18+ Content, (mild) SMUT! Alcohol Use!

The night was alive with the hum of the city just outside the dorm windows. You, along with Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, Maki, and Toge, were sprawled across the room, the remnants of a half-eaten takeout dinner and a mostly drained bottle of sake scattered between you.

It wasn’t often that you all found time to hang out like this. Between training and missions, these moments of downtime were precious—and apparently, very unpredictable.

“Alright, alright, who’s next for a drink?” Nobara chirped, swirling the sake bottle in her hand, her eyes gleaming with mischievous energy.

Yuji stretched lazily, a wide grin on his face as he glanced around. “Why stop at drinking when we could make it interesting?”

It took less than a second for Nobara to catch on. “Ooh, what are you suggesting?”

Maki, sitting back with her arms folded, raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem opposed. Meanwhile, Toge, his quiet demeanor in stark contrast to the energy around him, gave a casual shrug. It was rare to see him so relaxed, which probably had something to do with the sake flowing freely.

“Truth or dare,” Yuji declared, rubbing his hands together like he was about to unveil some grand plan.

A soft groan escaped Megumi, who had been sitting quietly beside you, a slight frown on his face as he watched the chaotic energy unfold. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though you could sense a slight interest beneath his usual stoic demeanor.

You snorted, nudging him lightly. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Fushiguro.”

He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching upward for a second before settling back into his familiar expression. But even as he tried to seem unaffected, there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. Truth or dare games had a way of revealing more than they were meant to, and maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for exactly that.

Nobara wasted no time, slapping the floor in excitement. “Okay! Yuji, since it was your idea, you go first. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Yuji responded instantly, leaning back on his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Nobara’s grin widened, and you knew from that look she had something ridiculous in mind. “I dare you… to chug your drink, then kiss someone in the circle.”

The room fell into a momentary hush, all eyes darting toward Yuji as his grin faltered for just a second before he leaned forward and grabbed his drink.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged the remainder of his sake, slamming the cup down with a triumphant look on his face. Without hesitation, he leaned over to Toge, planting a dramatic kiss on his cheek.

Toge raised a brow, his face impassive as always, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Salmon,” he said, giving Yuji a light shove, which only made everyone burst out laughing.

Maki shook her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Weak.”

“You’re just mad you weren’t the one kissed,” Yuji teased, wiping the corner of his mouth with a grin.

“Dream on, idiot,” Maki shot back, but the playful tension between them was undeniable.

Toge, ever the quiet observer, pointed to you next, his expression calm as he said, “Tuna mayo?”

“Truth,” you answered, deciding to take it easy for now. You could already feel a warmth spreading through you, the sake making everything seem a little hazier, a little more relaxed.

Yuji leaned forward with an eager expression. “Who do you think is the most attractive here?”

A collective groan followed the question, though there was a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. You felt the weight of their stares, especially Megumi’s, whose gaze seemed to pierce through you.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Megumi,” you finally said, the word tumbling out softly, almost shyly.

The room erupted in laughter and teasing remarks, but all you could focus on was the subtle way Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting away as a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

“Wow, no hesitation,” Nobara teased, nudging Megumi’s arm with her elbow. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Megumi grumbled something under his breath, but his usual stoic front was beginning to crack, a small, rare smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright, moving on,” you said quickly, trying to divert the attention. “Nobara, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied instantly, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that screamed ‘challenge me.’

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before smirking. “I dare you to tell us one of your kinks.”

Nobara’s eyes widened slightly, her confident facade faltering for just a second before she burst into laughter. “Oh, come on! Alright, fine.” She leaned back, her cheeks flushed—though whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. “I like it rough—like really rough.”

The room collectively gasped before bursting into a mixture of laughter and wide-eyed stares. Yuji let out a loud “What?!” while Maki just shrugged with a look that said, Not surprised.

“That’s way too much information,” Yuji groaned, covering his face with his hands while Nobara smacked him on the back.

“What, too much for you, Yuji?” Nobara teased, clearly enjoying the moment. “Maybe I’ll dial it back next time.”

Toge snickered quietly, glancing at Yuji, whose face was flushed for an entirely different reason now.

—

The game continued, each round more daring and revealing. Maki, always calm and collected, had admitted that she preferred someone who could challenge her both physically and ‘test her limits.’

Toge, while still being mostly silent, revealed through hand gestures and a few simple words that he liked to be taken control of and bossed around—makes sense given his cursed speech ability.

Yuji, with his usual lack of filter, shared a little too much about his curiosity in trying anything—and he meant everything—at least once, leaving Nobara shaking her head and everyone else laughing.

By the time it was Megumi’s turn again, the air in the room felt charged, the stakes higher now that almost everyone had bared more than just their emotions.

Maki’s sharp gaze landed on Megumi, and you could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “Alright, Fushiguro, truth or dare?”

He looked almost bored, but you could tell he was being careful. “Dare.”

A slow, almost wicked grin spread across Maki’s face. “I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Your heart nearly stopped. The laughter and chatter from the others faded into the background as you locked eyes with Megumi. His expression didn’t change, but you noticed how his eyes darkened slightly, like he was weighing his options.

The whole room seemed to still, waiting for his next move.

Without breaking eye contact, Megumi stood up, moving toward you with a calmness that belied the tension swirling around him. Every step he took seemed deliberate, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as the distance between you closed.

He stopped right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with the alcohol in the air. His voice was low when he spoke, meant only for your ears. “Are you okay with this?”

You could barely nod, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started soft, almost teasing.

But when you responded, pressing into him, the kiss deepened, the intensity building between you until all the nerves and tension melted away. His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate circles.

When he finally pulled away, the room erupted in cheers and teasing catcalls, but you could hardly focus on any of it.

The only thing you could think about was the way Megumi’s hand lingered on your waist, his eyes still locked on yours as though you were the only person in the room.

“Wow,” Yuji finally broke the silence, clapping his hands together. “That was intense.”

“Way to go, Fushiguro,” Nobara added, winking at you with a knowing smile.

Megumi, still quiet, returned to his spot beside you, but this time, his body language was different.

There was no more guarded front, no more distance. Instead, his knee brushed against yours, his arm resting just a little too close to be accidental.

The game had peeled back some of his usual stoicism, and now there was something deeper lurking beneath his calm exterior—something you could feel humming in the space between you. 

You dared to glance over at him, only to find his eyes already on you, their dark intensity sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. He didn't look away, didn't even try to hide the fact that he was watching you.

Your breath hitched slightly, the sudden weight of his gaze pressing down on you, making your pulse quicken. It was like he was trying to read you, see past the casual facade you were putting up for the others.

But his eyes weren’t just curious—they were hungry, filled with a desire you weren’t sure you were ready to face head-on, but that also thrilled you in ways you hadn’t expected.

The others were too caught up in their laughter to notice the way the air crackled between you and Megumi, but you were hyper-aware of every single movement he made. Even the subtle shift in his posture, the way his hand rested dangerously close to your thigh, sent sparks through you.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the way your skin prickled with awareness, but it was impossible. The more you tried to ignore him, the more your body seemed to betray you, the warmth in your stomach spreading lower with every lingering glance he threw your way.

Then, as if on cue, Megumi stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. "I'm getting another bottle," he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges, like he was holding back more than just his words.

You weren’t prepared for what came next. As he rose, his hand grazed your thigh—a light, seemingly casual touch, but it set every nerve in your body on fire. 

His fingers lingered for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and when you looked up, his eyes met yours again, darker now, filled with an unspoken promise. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything around you blurred—Nobara’s laughter, Yuji’s teasing, Maki’s quips—all of it fading into the background. 

All you could focus on was the heat of Megumi’s touch, the way it had seared through you, leaving your skin tingling with anticipation—you wanted him, bad.

The room felt too small, too hot, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you and him. It was nothing, really—a simple touch, a brush of fingers—but it felt like everything.

Like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only the tension that crackled between you both.

He disappeared for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath. But even as he walked away, you could still feel him. It was like his presence clung to you, the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin even in his absence.

When Megumi returned with another bottle of sake, his calm facade was back in place, but you weren’t fooled. There was a subtle shift in the way he moved, the way his eyes flicked to you as he sat back down, this time even closer than before. 

His thigh brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough to send another rush of heat pooling in your stomach.

You could feel him now, not just his physical presence, but the storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of every inch of your body—how close you were sitting, the way your legs almost touched, the heat radiating off him.

It felt like every breath you took was somehow synced with his, the air between you buzzing with a tension that neither of you acknowledged out loud but was impossible to ignore.

Nobara was saying something, but you barely registered the words. Your focus had narrowed, zeroing in on the way Megumi’s fingers brushed against the rim of his glass, the way his jaw clenched slightly when he looked at you, like he was holding something back. 

The tension was suffocating, but in the best possible way, like it was wrapping around you, pulling you both into a world where nothing else mattered.

You shifted again, but this time it felt deliberate. The tiniest of movements, your knee brushing against his, the fabric of his pants against your skin. 

It was innocent enough on the surface, but the way his eyes darkened in response told you everything you needed to know. The tension between you had been building for too long, simmering just beneath the surface, and now, it felt like it was reaching a boiling point.

When he looked at you again, his gaze was heated, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. You couldn’t help the way your pulse quickened, your heart thudding in your chest. 

You wanted him to break first, to give in to whatever this was that had been hanging between you for so long.

—

The night was winding down, but the weight of everything that had been said—and left unsaid—hung heavily in the air. The others had drifted off to their rooms, their laughter fading into the background as the dorm grew quieter.

It was just you and Megumi now, the soft glow of the lamplight casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the distance between you that was rapidly shrinking with every passing second.

Megumi stood close, his usual stoic expression softer now, more vulnerable than you had ever seen. His fingers brushed against your arm, sending a spark of electricity down your spine. His eyes flickered, like he was searching for the right words but couldn’t quite find them.

"You’re staying, right?" His voice was quiet, hesitant, the rough edge of his usual demeanor replaced with something rawer, something real.

You nodded, heart pounding. "Yeah. I’m staying."

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension between you two finally rising to the surface after simmering for so long.

You could feel the magnetic pull between you, an invisible thread tugging you closer, binding you in this shared moment of vulnerability and desire. 

Before you could say anything else, Megumi’s resolve seemed to snap. His lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, as if the dam holding back everything he’d been feeling for so long had finally burst.

His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his grip firm but careful, like he was afraid to let go.

This kiss was different from the one earlier, more intense, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that neither of you had fully realized until now.

It was as if all the time spent pretending, all the looks, the touches, the quiet moments shared between you, had led to this. 

You let out a long-awaited moan into his mouth as your lips moved hungrily in sync, as if releasing all the tension you’d been sitting in all night.

The fire between you was no longer just a flicker—it had ignited into something all-consuming, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed yourself closer, desperate to erase any remaining space between you. 

His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, like you had been waiting for this moment your entire life. The heat between you was overwhelming, your mind hazy with the sheer closeness of him.

Megumi’s hands roamed your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, his fingers rough and warm as they explored the sensitive skin beneath.

His touch was deliberate, slow, as though he was savoring every second, every inch of your body that he could claim. 

Each pass of his fingertips was electric, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, igniting a fire deep inside you that you could no longer contain.

The moment his skin touched yours, it was like a spark had been lit, an intense awareness coursing through your body. 

His hands slid up the curve of your waist, pausing just beneath your ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of your chest with an aching slowness that sent shivers racing down your spine.

The contact was subtle, but the heat from his touch seared into you, making your breath hitch and your pulse race.

Your senses were on overdrive—every small stroke of his fingers, the way his nails lightly grazed your skin, sent a rush of heat pooling in your core.

The alcohol had dulled your inhibitions, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him against you, but it was more than that. 

The intimacy, the raw connection you shared with him, was overwhelming, heightening the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you.

You could feel it in every brush of his skin against yours, every soft exhale of his breath on your neck as he nibbled at your soft skin.

The tension built with every passing second, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. 

His hands moved higher, his touch growing bolder, more possessive, and it was almost unbearable—the way you ached for more, for him to go further, to close the distance that still remained between you.

Your body trembled beneath his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins as you leaned into him, needing him closer, needing more of him.

Your soft gasp filled the space between you as Megumi’s lips pressed against the side of your neck, trailing a slow, deliberate path down your skin. His breath was warm, ragged, and every exhale sent a wave of heat coursing through you. 

He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, the warmth of his lips and the scrape of his teeth drawing another shiver from you. It was maddening—the way he took his time, teasing you with soft, lingering kisses that left your body trembling with need.

His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, and the sensation of his mouth on your skin made you feel like you were unraveling, your body responding to him with a mind of its own. 

Every kiss, every stroke of his fingers sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your thoughts muddled by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, desire, and the closeness of his body against yours.

You could feel his breath falter, his own restraint slipping as his lips moved against your skin, the heat between you becoming almost unbearable. He kissed lower, his lips trailing along your collarbone, leaving a path of warmth and want in their wake. 

Your heart raced, your body thrumming with the need for more, for him to touch you everywhere, to finally give in to the desire that had been building between you for what felt like forever.

As his hands tightened around your waist, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin, you knew that you weren’t the only one losing control.

Megumi’s breath came faster, more ragged, his kisses turning hungrier, more desperate, as though he was just as consumed by this moment as you were. 

The world outside faded into nothing, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, the heat of your bodies and the tension that had been simmering between you for far too long finally breaking free.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as both of you caught your breath. His hands still held you close, refusing to let go, and when his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice rough and low, filled with a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. "I’ve wanted this for so long... wanted you."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, the weight of his words settling deep inside you. You had always known there was something between you and Megumi, but hearing it from him, feeling it in the way he touched you, made it all feel so much more real.

"I’ve wanted you too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. He didn’t need words to understand—he could feel it in the way you clung to him, the way your body fit perfectly against his.

He captured your lips again, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second of it. The kiss was languid, filled with all the emotions you had both been too afraid to admit until now. His hands traced up your back, drawing you impossibly closer, his fingers tangled in your hair as the kiss grew more passionate.

The world outside faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth and need. Time seemed to stretch, the only sound in the room the soft gasps and sighs as you both gave in to the moment, to the desire that had been building between you for so long.

Whatever unspoken boundaries had existed between you and Megumi before this night had shattered, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but your shared desire and the heat of the moment to guide you.

There was no turning back now.

[m-ayo-o]

megumi’s girl

KINKTOBER II: MALE SUBMISSION ⋆⁺ sub!megumi, sub!satoru x f!reader ⋆⁺ warnings: age gap. pet play. pegging. dp. stepcest. ⋆⁺ wc: 1000

MDNI. NSFW

you’re megumi’s girl, but his stepfather ends up fancying you.

he’s brought home a few girls now, as he’s in his early twenties. mostly people who thought they were smart, some a little stuck up. and sure, they were nice enough looking, but he’s never brought home anyone like you.

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru gojo doesn’t know how long that’ll last.

he doesn’t know how long you’ll survive in this house, with the way megumi’s eyes are always following you like he’s going to devour you. down the corridor from his bedroom, across the dining table, sometimes through the crack in the door when you’re showering.

and satoru can’t resist flirting with you now, teasing you and getting under your skin.

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru’s not sure if you’ve even had sex yet.

the way the younger man is looking at you makes him think that you have. but someone so sweet and perfect as you– someone with that effervescent innocence– how could you give that to him?

he surmises that you wouldn’t.

you couldn’t do that– with your pretty pink lips, driving him mad with every smile, those long, dewy lashes… the way your eyes dart over his, catching his crystalline gaze.

you’re megumi’s girl, but his stepfather wants to know if you fuck.

he wants to give you a try. see if he could get you to open up, seeing as he believes megumi’s been unsuccessful in that area. he wants to find out how quickly he can get you in his bed, doing terrible things to each other.

the thought of you being 21 and him being 34 didn’t even cross his mind.

quite frankly, satoru usually sticks to women of his age range and he has his type, too. but there’s just something about you that blows all of those types out the water.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve got the both of them wrapped around your little finger.

and it was just so easy. watching them drool over you was divine, but now you can get what you want, when you want it. and satoru can give you just about anything– the possibilities really are limitless with him.

and megumi is so much more sweet and simple than he makes out to be.

on the surface he’s some pensive, complicated mess of a man, allowing himself occasional pleasures in his chaotic, cursed life. but beneath your touch, he melts. he loves feeling your fingers through his hair, the way you stroke behind his ear, and when you put a little collar on him.

he wants to make you proud.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re curious if his stepfather will bark for you.

you want to know if he’ll get down on all fours and humiliate himself. you want to make a fool of the honoured one.

you want to see what he’ll do when you lean over the kitchen island, exposing your ass to him and your tits to megumi.

does he dare to touch you? 

you’re basically presenting yourself to the older man, and he’s standing right behind you, staring at the way you jiggle with every jovial laugh, how your skirt has lifted to expose your stringy underwear and your socks that cling to your thighs.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re giving the curse slayer come demi-god a very hard time.

particularly in his pants. his boxers and sweatpants cling to him, pulling tight and massaging his swollen head every time he jerks his hips.

you look between megumi and satoru, down at his crotch, giggling and commenting that he’s rock hard and that megumi should watch you get him off.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve got his stepdaddy squirting cum through his sweats.

“nghh, haah– sweetheart, o-oh fuck– fuck me– how, how’d you—”

he’s left dazed and confused, watching drops of hot, white liquid ooze through the fabric and pool in a sticky mess over his tip.

he can’t get his words out, but he was trying to ask “how did you do that to me?”

this has never happened before. and he’ll be damned if anybody hears about it. he’s ashamed, knowing you’ve just milked him through his sweatpants with your clothed ass. 

not so honoured now, huh satoru?

you’re megumi’s girl, who used to have one puppy. now you have two.

your beautiful dark haired sorcerer– he bites sometimes. and a gorgeous, platinum haired angel with a brand new collar.

you’re telling them that “whoever acts like the cutest puppy gets dinner first, the loser gets chained up.”

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru gojo gets to taste you first tonight.

his performance as your little pussy puppy made you giggle– he whined and let you stroke his hair, followed all of your orders, even when you commanded him to ‘speak’.

he opened his mouth and barked like a dog.

you just adored the shadow of humiliation in his eyes when he did it, encouraging you to push him further.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re currently pegging his stepfather.

and he took it so well, it made you think he’s taken it in the back numerous times before.

“i’ll let you fuck me…” was all the convincing he needed to get on the bed, ass up, face down.

you never thought he’d be so pretty down here– everything perfectly manicured, with smooth, sexy muscles rippling up his back.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve never been more satisfied than right now, taking satoru’s dick in the front and your boyfriend’s in the back.

his stepfather is fucking into your from below while megumi stands behind you, pushing his dick in that tight ass.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re taking both their cum tonight.

reaching your orgasm, both your holes twitch and squeeze, milking the two men for all they’re worth.

their heat rips through your body, making you feel so dizzy and full you’re about to black out.

you’re megumi’s girl,

but satoru gojo is your new fucktoy.

⋆⁺ [see you in hell]

satoru | megumi | m.list

[nereidprinc3ss]

Ok so this might be an odd request but I’ve been really sad about the fact that the network vetoed bisexual Reid so I was wondering if you could write boyfriend Spencer coming out to reader and just having it be really sweet and fluffy??

this is the cutest. great minds are bisexual reid truthers. i am honored to do this for the tumblr community and the world at large

warnings/tags: potentially VERY slight internalized homophobia from spencer if u squintttt but he's just nervous that's all!! my boyfriend has never done anything wrong in his life!! fem reader

“My type is you,” you say sweetly, angling your head up to look at your boyfriend. The two of you have been laying on the couch for the better part of an evening, (more accurately, he’s on the couch, you’re on him) talking about nothing and everything. Somehow the conversation has meandered to this—him asking you what your type in men is, of all things. 

“What a convenient answer,” Spencer teases, pushing your hair away from your face. You laugh, leaning into the warmth of his touch. 

“I mean it! I don’t think I ever really got what all the excitement was about men until I met you.”

He hums, a satisfied little smile on his face. “That’s very flattering.”

“What about you?”

His brows dart up. 

“What’s my type in men?”

An inadvertent laugh bubbles from your throat—slowly going stale in the air while you watch as Spencer actually flushes. It dawns on you with a splash of anxiety and a generous helping of guilt that maybe it’s not exactly a joke to him. You attempt to play it off casually, keeping your tone even but receptive. 

“Well, I meant in women. But, if you have a type in men, by all means, tell me.”

Hazel eyes dart between yours as his hand continues carding through your hair—and then he’s looking away, studying the wall behind you like there’s more there than faded green paint. 

Silences stretches as you chew on the inside of your cheek, worried you’ve somehow said the wrong thing. You wriggle higher up his body and gently grab his wrist, interrupting what you suspect is a self-soothing motion. 

“Hey,” you murmur, pulling his hand to your lips and pressing them to his knuckles. “Come back.”

Finally he looks at you again, mildly surprised like you’d tugged him from the very depths of his thoughts. But his eyes are soft, grazing his his fingers over your lips. 

“I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean.” The words are gentle. His thumb catches on your bottom lip and you nip at it playfully, trying to lighten his suddenly heavy mood. It’s hard to tell if it works—he continues tracing your lips absentmindedly, biting his own. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and wavers ever so slightly, the way it does in the rare instance that he’s not 100% sure of himself or what he’s talking about. 

“I was thinking about your question.” You don’t dare speak for fear opening your mouth will somehow break whatever self-hypnosis is keeping him honest. “I don’t have a specific type. In women. Or… or men.”

His voice is so fragile that you have to run it back in your mind a few times to process what he’d said. Several layers of clothing do nothing to dull the rapid drumming of his heartbeat against your chest. And your poor boyfriend looks so scared during the moment of silence while you’re thinking that it breaks your heart. He needs a sign, something to reassure him that it’s okay, before he backtracks and dissociates entirely. Delicately your hand slides up the side of his neck and jaw. You crane your neck to press a long kiss to his flushed cheek. It’s okay, you’re okay. We’re okay. The world is still turning. His chest rises and falls slowly in a deep, silent sigh. 

“I love you,” you remind him once you pull away, wiping away the slight sheen of chapstick your kiss had left. He catches your hand, wrapping it in his larger one. The guarded look in his eye does a poor job of concealing how badly he wants to please you, and everyone, and how scared he is that maybe this was the wrong answer. That maybe this is just another way he is not quite right, and you’ll tell him so, just like everyone else always has. 

“You’re not—you don’t have anything to say?”

Gentle fingers brush away invisible tears under his eyes, sweeping over the skin with the utmost care. He’s not crying, but you imagine at one point or another he had, and since you weren’t there to wipe away the tears then, maybe you can make up for it by being here now. 

“Is it something you want to talk about?” you ask, fingers still skimming over the angular plane and valley of his cheek. The darting of his eyes between yours, the slight furrow of his brow, the pressed-together lips—he’s profiling you. Trying to extract your thoughts through osmosis. 

“I… I’ve never told anyone before.”

Your stomach twists. You hate that there’s any part of him he feels he has to hide—and that he’s done it for so long. 

“Well I’m glad you told me, angel.” 

His eyes are like warm honey as he looks up at you, dulling that sharp, defensive edge as the endearment slips past your lips. Usually it’s the other way around, and you hope it soothes him even half as much as it always does for you. 

A surprised laugh is expelled from your lungs when he pulls you down into a crushing hug. Immediately, gleefully, you reciprocate, pushing your arms under his waist and tangling your legs with his, holding on ferociously and for dear life. His face is buried in the hollow of your neck, so you have to assume that much like you, he’s picked this over oxygen. 

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he breathes, lips brushing your neck and hair. Muffled, because there’s no space between you. Your eyes sting and tear up almost immediately. A joke forms on the tip of your tongue; low bar? But you bite it back, unsure if you can manage persuasive sarcasm in this moment. “And, for the record, you are the most beautiful human being I have ever met in my life. Nobody else has or will ever come close.”

You laugh tearfully into his collar. “Spencer, I’m not worried about that.”

“I know you’re not,” he says, finally coming up for air. You do the same, laying on his shoulder contentedly and looking into his eyes. “But I’m telling you anyway because it’s true and I want you to hear it.”

A contemplative moment passes, and you wonder how it’s possible to be falling even more in love with him. You’d thought you already loved him as much as any human being had ever been capable of doing. You hope love has no end. You hope you keep falling deeper and deeper forever. 

“You should know something,” you say, looking down to toy with the collar of his shirt. He hums. 

“What should I know, angel girl?”

“You should know that I’m still going to fight anyone who tries to flirt with you. I don’t care if it’s a six five body builder or a seventy year old woman with a walker. You’re gonna have to hold me back.”

A bemused smile tugs at his lips. 

“You would physically fight an elderly woman?”

“Or a six five body builder,” you agree. Spencer faces the ceiling like he’s watching the scene play out. 

“Okay,” he snorts. “I don’t love that, but okay.”

“It’s what you signed up for,” you mumble, snuggling back into him. His hand finds the back of your head and tangles comfortably in your hair once more. 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Turning Red

— He's always so serious that they can't help but wonder what kind of emotions he's hiding underneath. Good thing you're around.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Blade + Jing Yuan

Slight spoilers for Xianzhou and Kafka's companion quest.

[Masterlist]

I've fallen into the Honkai train, but here we are. Also, I know Jing Yuan doesn't fit this prompt but I like him so who cares.

Dan Heng

"Dan Heng! We need one more person to play Celestial Jade!" March hollars down the hallway only to receive no response. It makes her pout, biting the inside of her cheek as she taps her foot restless against the floor, "If you don't come soon then I'll be the one in trouble you know!"

Again no response...

She's checked his room and the archives, and yet no sign of the man. The Express is only so big so surely he didn't wander off somewhere outside right? Maybe you know where he is? Dan Heng seems to talk to you more than he does with her, so maybe he gave you a heads-up that he was going somewhere? It's not a solid plan, but it's a plan nonetheless so she marches her way to your room.

"Hey, have you seen Dan Heng anywh-" March starts as she opens your door only to stop mid-sentence since the eyes of the very man she was looking for are staring right back at her. "Ah. Oops."

Her eyes slowly trail down from his and ah- she understands why he was missing. You're curled up around him, arms haphazardly laid across his waist while your head is cushioned by his chest. Dan Heng doesn't seem to find your sleeping position bothersome, if anything it looks like he's trying to slowly nudge you closer without waking you up. One hand is on his phone, probably typing away on the databank, while the other is curled around your waist. His chin rests on top of yours contentedly as his white and turquoise coat is used as a mock blanket, leaving him in the black turtle neck.

Dan Heng looks like he's about to say something but you shift and mumble something in your sleep and they both go still. Scared that they may have accidentally woken you up and the Express doesn't have enough space for March to run and hide from Dan Heng but thankfully, you seem to settle down and return to your dreams. Thus, March and Dan Heng are locked in a staring contest before she slowly reaches into her back pocket without breaking eye contact.

"Don't you dare," Dan Heng whispers as loud as he dares, although his pink cheeks don't do anything to make him look intimidating.

"Oh, I think I dare," she grins too widely as she raises her camera, making sure it's on silent before she starts to bombard her gallery with a pink Dan Heng because he can't stop her unless he gets up. The most he can do is turn his face away but it shows the world his red ears. Once she's satisfied, she's sticking her tongue out and darts out of the room. She expects that two things will happen. Dan Heng will hunt her down and make her delete the pictures, but not before she sends them all to him. As soon as the door closes and March walks down at the end of the hallway she let her mini explosion commence because Geez! That was so cute! Who knew Dan Heng could be so adorable! Why can't she have that with someone special, this isn't fair!!

Gepard

Gepard Landau. The prestigious young captain of the Silvermane Guards who belongs to the noble Landau family. A personality of righteousness, a good family background, and on top of that he sure has a pretty face. The absolute perfect man.

What a boring guy.

That's the only thought that runs through Sampo's mind as he observes the blond hair man talking to his subordinate from a distance. The two of you are supposed to be on break - he knows this because it makes the other Silvermane Guards more relaxed so it's easier for him to run around - and yet Gepard has his back straight and looks as if he's never heard of what a day-off is. What a shame that those pretty blues only have eyes for reports.

"This part here has been causing some issues for our intelligence team," he hears the subordinate say and Sampo's eyes shift to you. He's heard of you before although not as much as Gepard. A simple errand girl who frequently moves between the Silvermane Guards and the Neverwinter Workshop to deliver messages and supplies. Nothing incredibly remarkable but you're a kind person who keeps to themselves. Sampo thinks you and him could get along if you didn't hang around Gepard so often.

"Let me see..." Gepard mumbles and leans down closer to read the fine print before you turn your head to the side and plant a small kiss on his cheek. Despite the cute gesture, Gepard doesn't change or make any expression. He simply steps back into a polite distance, a hand coming up to loosen his collar as he clears his throat, before reprimanding you on workplace-appropriate jokes. You don't seem to take offense to his lack of response, just adorably hiding your smile behind your paper before waving goodbye to the Captain. Meanwhile, Sampo is coughing violently behind his fist because what the hell was that? So much build-up only for a lackluster ending? As a man of the dramatics, it's too much for him.

"Seriously, there's nothing fun about this guy," Sampo sighs, shrugging his shoulders as if to console himself. He's about to turn and leave but the rushed clinking of armor has him looking back at the Captain.

"Seriously..." Gepard mutters before hiding his face behind his hand. Even from this distance, Sampo can see how red the Captain's ears have gotten just from a simple cheek kiss.

Blade

Kafka thinks you're cute. Really cute.

Everyone in the Stellaron Hunters hides their true emotions behind multiple masks and it's refreshing to meet someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Although it could also be because you're incredibly bad at hiding your feelings. Even if Kafka wasn't as skilled as she is with reading people, you do a piss poor job. Still, it's fun for her and that's the important part.

"Oh? Back so soon?" Kafka greets you as you step out of the alleyway. Even if your face isn't plastered across the Xianzhou like Kafka's and Blades, it wouldn't look good to be seen conversing with them. Plus you rather like being able to walk in broad daylight without the fear of the Cloud Knights chasing you down to slap some cuffs on you.

"Yes ma'am. We can depart when you're ready," you salute and she can't help but laugh at your cute mannerism. It makes you falter the slightest bit but you hold your pose.

"Good. Good. It must have been hard to pilot a ship so close to the Xianzhou without being detected. Especially given," she makes a gesture at Blade, "recent events."

You only nod at her hidden meaning before she's suddenly stepping into your personal space. You can only make a small noise before her arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to her, and you pointedly ignore how her chest is pressed against yours, and her other hand raises your chin until your lips brush against hers. With her so close, she can see the pink in your cheeks growing and how tense your body is against hers. Your eyes dart from her down to her lip before catching yourself and instead looking behind her. It's cute.

"Would you like a reward?" she whispers next to your ear.

"Don't tease so much."

"Oh," Kafka blinks twice, turning her head to her companion as she lets go of your chin so she can press her fingertips against her mouth like one of those posh ladies when they find out about the latest gossip, "how out of character Bladie."

He doesn't dignify her with a response, just closes his eyes and goes back into his meditation. His face fell into that perfect stone that she could have imagined that he spoke. But those piercing eyes carving their way into her bones are unmistakable that even if they are closed, she still feels watched. But she relents and drops her arms around you before sending you off back to the ship. They'll join you soon.

"That's interesting," Kafka muses, she rolls her fingers as thin magenta strings appear before being flicked away with her wrist. Blade shouldn't be able to register anything but herself and yet, he seemed to notice you.

Jing Yuan

Yanqing has the sneaking suspicion that his General is sneaking off to slack off again. While he knows Jing Yuan is incredibly busy and he tends to do things discreetly, this getting far too strange. The General always has a complacent smile, but recently, it's been a tiny bit more genuine every time he waltzs in. For someone so tall, at least in Yanqing's opinion, he's able to slip past everyone and it's impossible to get in contact with him until he suddenly appears hours later. Yanqing would know, he's blasted the General's phone only to receive a cute emote and a "Surely my lieutenant is more than suitable for this, no?". Does it make Yanqing swell with so much pride that he forgets about Jing Yuan slacking off, maybe, but that's beside the point.

"General, what exactly are you doing in your... "off time"," Yanqing words slowly, unsure of what he was asking is considered a pry into Jing Yuan's personal life and if he will get upset with him.

"You're making it sound as if I'm doing something depraved during this "off time"," Jing Yuan chuckles at how fast Yanqing turns pink at his implications. Yanqing's hands quickly come up in a placating nature as he shakes his head so hard that his ponytail smacks against the wall.

"N-Not at all General! I was just curious- but you don't need to answer if it's something important!" Yanqing struggles through his words but luckily, Jing Yuan doesn't seem to take offense. If anything, he finds it amusing as he rubs Yanqing's head like an overactive puppy. It makes Yanqing huff and shoos away the offending hand before crossing his arms, expectantly waiting for an answer.

"It's not anything that needs to be kept as a secret. I'm simply taking a walk around Xianzhou to distress. You should take some time to do so as well, training every single day without a break will only lead to weary bones and stiff muscles," Jing Yuan advises which Yanqing nods carefully along to. Although Yanqing's eyes drift from the General's eyes to mouth, he seems more...softer around the edges? Even though he's the only one here, it looks like Jing Yuan is speaking to someone else through him.

"Are you sure you're not doing something indecent?" Yanqing deadpans to which the General laughs. He reaches over to ruffle his disciple's hair again before crossing them behind his back and walking ahead. Seriously, Yanqing thinks as he fixes his hair back into place, he can never get a good read on his General.

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 3)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, fluffy Jake (if you squint)

words: 3.3k

Summary: Jake brings a date to the bar and she is not, well, the nicest person alive. Which is kind of expected of him but still annoying. Thankfully, Maverick convices Penny to close the bar early to sneak off and you close up. You start singing along to your playlist while you cleaned up, thinking you're alone at the bar...

a/n: The songs used in this chapter are Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC and Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, if you want to listen to them while you read.

Link to my masterlist

"Can I play something for you, Darlin'?", Jimmy asked on his way to the storage room, passing the Jukebox. The bar had just opened and you and Jimmy were holding down the fort until Penny was supposed to come in later that evening.

"Could I have some Hall & Oates, please?", you mentioned with a smile. "I got you", the old man smiled and pressed some buttons on the old machine.

You make my dreams come true started playing.

"Oh Jimmy, you know me too well", you cooed at him, betting your eyelashes and shooting him a smile.

You started to sing along to yourself while you polished some glasses and put the beer from the box into the cooler. As you were crouched down, you didn't see a new patron approaching the bar.

"You make my dreams come true", you sang as you got up and suddenly found yourself face to face with a grinning Hangman.

"Only if you're a good girl", he said, accompanied with a cocky smile. "Barf", you said dryly and rolled your eyes.

You checked the big clock on the wall behind him. 5:10 PM. "It’s Tuesday, do you not have a job?", you simply asked.

"So, just anybody can give you a nickname but me?", he ignored your question and asked his own. For a second, you didn't know what he meant, but then you remembered that Jimmy had called you Darling just before. You were already so used to him calling you that.

"By god, she's got it! Good job, Eliza Doolittle", you mockingly cheered him on, booping his nose with your finger. He flicked your finger away like it was an annoying fly.

“What can I get you?”, you asked him. “The usual”, he simply stated and put his credit card on the counter, his typical sign to open his tab for the night. “So, a Tet-shot and the morning after pill for whoever fell for your bullshit?”, you suggested and gave him the sweetest smile. “What do you think of me?”, he asked playfully shocked, a hand on his chest.

“Only the worst”, you told him as you put the bottle of beer in front of him and the smile on your lips took the harshness out of your words. He shot you another wink as he grabbed his drink and left for the darts board.

You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but your shift was always more fun when Hangman was around. Someone to look out for, someone to be excited to see. That this was all just one-sided wasn't even a question to you. Every time you felt that way about someone, as annoying as they might be, it was always one-sided. And even on the off chance it wasn't, you never dared to ask and nobody ever came forward. So, as always, you shot him another glance and kept on working.

Later that evening, the others arrived at the bar, too, as always gathering at the pool table. You brought over a trey of beers that the group had ordered.

"There you go. Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Eliza", you said as you placed the last beer in front of Hangman.

Fanboy almost did a spit-take as he had just taken a sip of his drink. "Excuse me, what?", Phoenix asked and she didn't do a great job at suppressing her laughter.

"Just a little inside joke we got, don't we, Lizzie?", you turned to Hangman. He chose to remain silent but the look he gave you let you know that you were gonna pay for that joke at some point.

But for now, you took the win of shutting him up.

For a Wednesday night it was surprisingly full at the bar and Jimmy was not in after requesting a sick-day. You and Penny had your hands fulfilling all the orders. Even though you had some practice by now, you were still lacking in speed compared to Penny.

You spotted your usual group at a table in the middle of the bar, letting other people play pool for once. But you noticed that Hangman was missing tonight. It was odd to you, but you didn’t think much of it.

Until he came in at around half past 9 with a tall blonde on his arm. She was dressed in an expensive-looking short dress and looked totally out of place between the khaki uniforms and informal clothing on all the other patrons. She looked like the type country club, my daddy bought me a horse for Christmas kind of girl. The Hard Deck was clearly Hangman’s idea, who was not wearing his khaki uniform for once but a black pair of jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If you didn’t already know him as part of the bar’s interior, you would also find his appearance here out of place.

Your eyes followed the pair to the table of Hangman’s colleagues, his date getting introduced to the others. They all exchanges polite smiles and hellos. When the woman sat down, she let her eyes wander over the place, looking a little disgusted. You could tell that this was not the place she thought the night would bring her to. She took off her cardigan and hung it over the back of her chair before she even attempted to lean back.

There was no use of prolonging the wait, you would have to get over there to take their order. Also, the glasses of the others looked rather empty as well. You took a deep breath and walked over to the full table.

“Welcome to the Hard Deck. What can I get you?”, you welcomed the woman and smiled at her politely. She looked up at you with an annoyed face. Her eyes let you know where your place in her world was. You were the help.

“Do you have anything here that costs more than 10 dollars?”, she asked and the tone in her voice could only be described as disgusted. “I can sell you everything for at a least twenty if you prefer it”, you commented, trying to knock her ego down a peg. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any practice with Hangman.

You heard some suppressed chuckles from the others but kept your eyes on Hangman’s date. “Excuse me? You better watch your tone or I’ll will have to talk to your manager”, she snapped at you. And she couldn’t take a joke. Great taste, Hangman.

You swallowed and took a moment to calm yourself before you spoke again. “I apologize. We have a very good Chardonay you might like, Karen”, you said to her instead but couldn’t help yourself at the end. Another round of chuckles behind you. “My name is not Karen, it’s Whitney”, she told you and her tone got more indignant. She looked over at Hangman, looking for support of her outrage.

“She will have the Chardonay and I’ll have a beer, please”, he said, ignoring his date. You nodded and then turned to the others. They ordered another round of drinks and you basically fled towards the bar.

Penny was overrun by a new group that had just entered the bar and you helped her out before you prepared the drinks for the table and brought them over there.

“Here’s your Chardonay”, you said and placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. “About time”, she only mumbled, no Thank you or even eye-contact. Lovely girl, you thought to yourself.

“Here’s your beer”, you placed the bottle in front of Hangman. “Thank you, Y/N”, he said and shot you a smile. You looked at him a little weirded out. The please before was already a little out of character for him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Nothing, you’re just weirdly nice”, you simply said and kept placing the drinks in front of the guys. “I’m always nice”, he countered and a little mischievous glimpse was back in his eyes as he followed your round around the table. “Oh yeah, I’m always so touched by the empathy you display every time you’re here”, you said and put a hand over your heart, pouting your lips, holding the empty trey in your free hand and letting it hang down your side.

Whitney watched your exchange with a watchful eye and put her hand on his thigh, seemingly displaying some sort of ownership. “Do you come here often, Jakey?”, she asked the man to her left, a warning tone in her voice not to say the wrong thing. Whatever that may be. You and Phoenix exchanged a glance over the heads of the others, both of you biting down a smile.

“No, Darling, only when these knuckleheads drag me here. They can’t have fun without me”, Jake told her and she seemed satisfied with his answer. “We drag him here?”, Coyote whispered to Payback, who was sitting right in front of where you stood.

“It’s true, he’s not here often, but he certainly leaves an impression”, you chimed in before anyone could say something. Hangman looked up at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to say something compromising or silently thanking you for having his back in this lie.

“Alright, just yell for me if you need anything else”, you said and finally left their table. It was getting uncomfortable and you were glad that you had a good reason to get out of there. After looking at some of the faces of the guys you could tell that they were just as uncomfortable.

“Come on, Penny. We’ll just sneak out of here”, you heard Maverick say as you came back to the bar circle. “I can’t just leave, not when it’s that packed”, you heard your boss answer but the tone of her voice let you know that she actually wanted to.

“I can finish the evening”, you just entered their conversation and they both shot up like they were planning some secret mission. “No, you can’t handle this many people on your own”, Penny said and took a look at the still pretty well filled bar. “No offense”, she quickly added. “None taken, you’re probably right”, you said and scanned the bar as well. “But you can close early”, you suggested.

“That’s right”, Maverick agreed and you both looked at Penny with raised eyebrows. Your boss looked at your faces and chewed her bottom lip. “It’s your place, you run the show”, Maverick added. You nodded agreeingly. You also wouldn’t mind to get off early. “I’ll clean up, I can definitely manage that”, you offered. “She’ll clean up”, Maverick repeated. Penny contemplated for a few more moments, then she sighed defeatedly.

“Okay, I’ll close early”, she gave in and you and Maverick high-fived. Penny walked over to the bell and rang it. “Last call!”, she shouted and a common groan erupted from the crowd. “Alright, settle down. It’s still my bar”, she added and waved off their protests.

While you were handing out the last drinks of the night, Penny asked repeatedly if you were okay to close up on your own and you waved it off. “I’m working here, aren’t I? And I have to learn sometime. You don’t always want to stay ‘til last call, don’t you?”, you said. She answered you with a smile and handled the register.

When everybody was finally out and Penny had left with Mav, you were suddenly alone. It was weirdly quiet compared to before when the room was filled with people. So, you took out your phone and put on your Spotify playlist while you started to clean up.

You collected glasses and bottles from all over the place. You even found a cardigan on the chair that Hangman’s date was sitting on. You grabbed it to put it behind the bar for when she came back for it. It was a warm night though, so she probably wouldn't notice right away. The urge to wipe the counter with it was almost overwhelming. Instead of following the urge, you placed it somewhere safe as it looked expensive and was probably worth more than your month’s salary.

You continued cleaning up and started to sing along to the song that was currently playing. It was Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC, one of your favorites.

“But when we talk in the middle, in the middle of the night. Oh, we get closer every time. But when we meet in the middle, I feel the clarity rise. Oh, it moves over, straight from your eyes”, you sang as you put the glasses in the basket for the dishwasher. It wasn’t like singing Karaoke with friends or the impromptu concert with Rooster a couple of weeks ago. You got really into it since you were all alone and nobody could hear you.

“Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh. Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh”, you kept singing and grabbed the dishtowel to wipe down the counter

“I actually have green eyes”, you heard from the door and you jumped in surprise. You spun around to where the voice had come from only to find Jake Hangman Seresin of all people standing there.

Shit, did he hear you sing? He must have. Why else would he say that?

“Jesus Christ, you scared me”, you said as you put a hand over your heart that was racing like crazy. You turned away from him again, seemingly to finish wiping off the counter and putting the damp towel back in the small sink behind the bar. You mostly needed a moment to collect yourself. You felt so embarrassed that he had heard you sing. You thought you were all alone for the rest of the night, singing like you only did when you thought no one would hear you.

You heard his steps coming closer, resting his underarms on the bar top when he arrived across from where you were standing. You turned down the music on your phone.

“You have a beautiful voice”, he said and as much as you looked for it in his face, you couldn’t find any hint of mockery. Hangman and an honest compliment? Were you in the Upside Down?

“Thanks”, you said, still startled, and blushed a bit. “What are you doing here? We’re closed”, you asked, still in disbelief that he was nice to you. “My date forgot her cardigan”, he finally disclosed why he was back here so soon. “Ah, and she doesn’t put out if she doesn’t have her precious cardigan?”, you said and a smile creeped on your face, revealing the joke. “The chances are better with it”, he answered, also with a smile, indicating that he wasn’t here purely out of a gentlemanly gesture.

“I’ve got it here”, you said and walked the few steps over to where you put it for safe keeping. You handed him the garment and when he took it from you, his fingertips brushed along your fingers. You were sure he didn’t even notice it, but it sent an electric jolt up your arm.

As soon as he had it in his hand, you pulled your arm back, putting your other hand over the one Jake had just touched, folding it in front of you. Your fingers still tingled. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself for this stupid reaction.

“Thank you”, he said, glad that it hadn’t got lost somewhere else. “Now you can be her knight in shining armor when you bring back her precious cardigan”, you said with a chuckle and grabbed the broom from behind you. You came around the bar to sweep up the peanut shells that were scattered all over the floor. “And you’re Cinderella?”, he asked jokingly, nodding at the broom. “Yeah, well, there are other balls, I’ll dance another time”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders and a light smile.

Jake looked at you for a moment before he lifted his hand for a goodbye. “I’ll see you around, have a good night”, he said. “Yeah, you too”, you answered.

You didn’t wait for him to leave the room, you turned around and turned the music louder on your phone again. Your playlist had kept playing while you talked to Jake. Now it played Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, a slow song. The mood to sing along was gone anyway, you were too afraid someone else would show up again.

You started moving the broom over the floor but you only managed to get about three sweeps in before you felt a hand on your shoulder. When you looked up, it was Jake again. Without saying a word, he took the broom out of your hands and leaned it against the bar.

He grabbed your right hand with his left and put his right hand on your lower back. You looked at him with big eyes, too stunned to speak.

“You get your dance now, Cinderella”, he winked at you and started to sway you to the slow music. With his hand on your back, he pushed you closer to him and slowly moved both of you in a circle.

You were aware of every single spot where your bodies touched, beginning with his big, warm hand clasping yours. You were afraid he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.

He removed his hand from your back only to have you spin around which made you giggle lightly and then pull you back in, even closer this time. He put his hand which was holding yours against his chest, pulling your arm with his. He put his hand on top of yours which meant your hand was placed directly on his heart. You felt how hard his peck was beneath his shirt and swallowed. You looked up only to find those green eyes of his looking down at you. He held your gaze while he moved your bodies slowly from side to side. His hand on your back slid a little lower but you almost didn’t notice it because you were so hypnotized by his eyes. Almost.

“Bedsheets, no clothes. Touch me like nobody else does” came out of the speakers of your phone and you suddenly became very aware of the lyrics of the song. It made you swallow hard. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. Did he notice the lyrics, too?

His fingertips felt like they were burning through your shirt, leaving permanent marks on your skin. Instinctively, you licked your lips. Jakes eyes darted down to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

You both got snapped out of your stare as the broom fell over and hit the floor with a loud bang.

As soon as the moment had come, it was over again. The song drained out as the two of you stopped moving. Like you were both snapping back to reality, you let go of each other.

You opened your mouth and inhaled to say something but you didn’t know what, so you closed it again. Was a Thank you appropriate? Did that mean anything? Did he just want to be nice? But Hangman wasn’t nice. Your head was spinning as all kinds of thoughts invaded your brain.

Hangman looked at you for a second longer, then turned around, grabbed his date’s cardigan off the bar top and left the bar for good this time.

With shaky hands you grabbed the broom off the floor and held on to it for dear life. Your heart was still pounding rapidly. You weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if it was just a day-dream of yours if it wasn’t for the hand you still felt on your back like an echo. That was something you couldn’t dream up.

Next chapter: Part 4.1

[zyonsay]

Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥

I dare you LN4&OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...

Reader: Male

Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so

Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick

AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!

Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.

The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.

“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”

Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.

Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?

“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”

Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.

Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.

Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.

[whomst-the-hell]

The babysitters’ club, as the older members of the upside down crew have dubbed themselves, meet at least once a week. Sometimes it’s only a few hours, just long enough to watch a movie together, to confirm that everyone is still alive and coping. Sometimes it’s all night, and Argyle plies them all with good California weed while they attempt to work through their collective truckloads of trauma.

Sometimes, like tonight, they spend it goofing off and having fun like the dumb kids many of them couldn’t afford to be.

They’re gathered in a circle at the Harrington mansion, deserted as always, playing truth or dare. Nancy has just admitted to smoking weed in her freshman year, in the drama room with Barbara Holland, and she has set her know it all, meddling, journalist eyes on Eddie.

“Truth or dare,” she asks, a challenge clear on her face.

Eddie knows that, with most people, picking truth may be seen as the cowardly option. With Nancy, that couldn’t be more wrong. If he picks dare, he will be safe, but he will be mocked relentlessly by every single person in the room.

…

“Truth,” he sighs reluctantly.

“Who-” she pauses dramatically for effect, a theatrical detail that Eddie honestly respects, even if it fills him with dread, “-was your most embarrassing crush! And it has to be a person we know, no celebrities allowed!”

Shit.

He feels his eyes dart to Steve. Nancy smirks. Bitch. He can’t even lie about it then.

Time to face the music, he supposes mournfully.

“I would like to say, for the record, that I was in junior year, ok. And, in retrospect, with the knowledge I have now, it’s not even that bad, but at the time-“

“Spit it out, Munson,” says Robin, the fucking traitor.

“IhadacrushonSteve,” he says, all in one breath.

“What was that, dude, I didn’t catch it?” Argyle says, voice mellow. Eddie honestly doesn’t know if he’s in on this or not, but he glowers all the same.

Face red, he repeats, “I had a crush on Steve.” He resolutely does not look at Steve.

“No you didn’t!” Steve responds, immediately, aghast.

Eddie can feel his heart tearing in two.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, this was years ag-“

“You literally rejected me!”

Fucking what.

He knows he must look ridiculous right now, mouth hanging open, cheeks still red with embarrassment, but he does not have the capacity to care.

“Wh- what do you- huh?” he finally manages.

“When you were in junior year, and I was a sophomore? We were lab partners-“

And ohhh, hadn’t that just been sweet, sweet torture. Pretty, perfect Harrington had had to sit next to him all semester, where Eddie could see his freckles and smell his cologne, but-

“You spent the whole semester making fun of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” says Steve, eyebrows furrowed in that way he does that makes Eddie want to kiss his forehead and- Fucking focus, Munson.

“You always used to make passive aggressive comments about my clothes, or my hair, or my books or whatever!”

Steve buries his face in his hands and groans.

“I wasn’t being passive aggressive.”

“You- what the fuck do you mean, you weren’t being passive aggressive! Why else would you have said any of that shit?”

“Because I meant it?”

Because he- what? Eddie played back as many of their interactions from that year as he could remember. I like your jacket, Steve had said when Eddie had started putting patches on his denim vest. Your hair looks nice today, he had said when Eddie had tied it back to beat the heat. Oh, that sounds interesting, when Eddie described the plot of the book he was reading.

“Oh my god, you were flirting with me.”

“No shit! I once told you you had really pretty eyes!“

“I thought you were bullying me!”

“How on Earth could ‘I think you have really pretty eyes’ be bullying?”

“I don’t know! It made more sense than it being flirting!”

“I asked you to go to the drive in with me! That is the most classic first date in the book!”

Holy shit, Steve Harrington had asked him out. Steve Harrington had asked him out and he’d said no. This was the worst day of Eddie’s life.

His face must have looked some kind of way, because Steve just groaned again. He sat there for a second before peeking up from behind his hands, a move that should not have been as cute as it was, what the fuck.

“If I tried again now, would you still think I was bullying you.”

Holy shit did Steve Harrington want to date him? This had to be a trick or a prank or something, right?

Except that he’d thought that in junior year as well, and apparently it had cost him a boyfriend, so.

“No- nope, I would definitely pick up on it, uh huh. Definitely,” he said in a rush. God, he was normally so good with words, fuck.

Steve emerged fully from his hands, face pink but expression determined.

“Eddie Munson, would you like to go to the drive in with me? They’re playing Jaws next saturday and I’d love to watch it with you.”

“Absolutely, Stevie. It’s a date.”

There are groans from the rest of their friends as they rifle through their pockets, each passing money to a very smug looking Nancy.

[perfectlyoongi]

WALTZ OF POSSIBILITY

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... getting ready for your best friend's wedding brought up a possibility that could last an eternal life.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... fluff, established relationship. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 1k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... my 1st kpop work in years lol starting new & trying to get out of this writing slump !! i hope u like it ♡ eng is not my 1st language xx

In the comfort of your room, music played gently.

The sun shone brightly, warming the room through the window, painting the walls a hopeful gold. Between the rhythmic ballads on the record player and the chirping of birds that beat against your window, your room was enveloped in a cloud of soft comfort, which left you calm, which left you relaxed.

You and Yoongi were sitting on the bed back to back. Your hands were fixing your blue shirt, while you heard your boyfriend struggling with a simple tie knot. There was silence between you, but there was no embarrassment at all, for in the stillness of your relationship, you found each other.

“Do you know the groom?”

Yoongi finally stood up, walking to the mirror and focusing his attention on the blue fabric around his neck.

“I’ve only been with him once,” you sighed and pressed another button on your shirt before placing yourself next to Yoongi. “But from what she told me, he’s romantic.”

“Hm.”

Yoongi knew perfectly well what you were doing. Due to his distraction, your boyfriend had forgotten about your last date and he swore, when he arrived home with a bunch of wild flowers and regret in his eyes, he swore he would make it up to you. The most romantic date we've ever had, Yoongi said between kisses when you accepted his apology. But the date was yet to happen and, knowing your boyfriend, you always thought it was funny to tease Yoongi. And he let you tease him, because, quite simply, Yoongi loved you.

“The proposal was beautiful,” you smiled in the mirror when you noticed Yoongi's eyes darting towards your figure and, with a hand on his shoulder, you turned your boyfriend towards you and you held the tie that was driving Yoongi crazy.

“How was it?” Yoongi stretched his neck to give you more freedom of movement and, staring at the white ceiling of your room, he waited for your sweet words to gently cradle his heart.

“They went to the beach. Where they met, you know? It was sunrise, her favorite time of the day. They had just walked all night and just wanted to sit down. But while she sat, he knelt.”

You spoke with pride in your voice – finally, someone who took good care of your best friend.

Yoongi listened to you with passion in his ears – he swore he could listen to you talk for hours.

“Is that what you think is beautiful?”

Yoongi smiled when you finished tying his tie and walked back to the bed, looking at the two coats that were displayed there, trying to figure out which one was best to wear on that occasion.

“Are you going to tell me it’s not beautiful?”

“I think you would think it was cute for someone to propose next to a trash can.”

“If it’s something important to one of them…”

Yoongi laughed and you smiled. Yoongi's laughter continued throughout the room, grabbing the soft music and dancing with it among the sun's rays. You loved that sound.

“So anything is beautiful?”

“Yeah, basically.”

You spoke between small laughs, totally mesmerized by the wide smile that Yoongi wore so perfectly.

“So if I knelt down, here and now…” Yoongi turned his body towards you, starting to lower himself guided by his own words, resting one knee on the floor and looking at you. Bright eyes full of passion, wide smile covered in devotion. “And if I…”

“Yoongi, no!” You laughed in the guise of a scream, running towards Yoongi, holding his hands and looking at him with amusement. “Don’t you dare!”

“I just wanted to prove my point.”

Yoongi smiled when you helped him get up, giving you a small kiss on the cheek and sitting at the foot of the bed. With his hand still locked in yours, he gently pulled you towards him, making you sit on his lap.

You looked at Yoongi, smile on your lips. Your right hand caressed the silky strands of Yoongi's hair, lingering on his face, admiring his natural beauty. And Yoongi looked at you, bright eyes and indestructible smile. His hand held your waist carefully, the other resting on your leg as he made small caresses on it with his slender fingers.

The music continued to play, the sun continued to shine, but at that moment it seemed as if all time had stopped. In your boyfriend's lap, the world ceased to exist.

Being with Yoongi was comforting, something you needed even before you knew it. Yoongi's touch soothed your soul, cleansed your heart of any doubt or fear. Yoongi's look made you feel loved, made your simple existence something important to be celebrated. And Yoongi's words... Yoongi's words took you to the beginning of time, remembering a love so pure, so true, that it was repeated throughout history.

“We have to hurry,” Yoongi spoke gently, the words escaping what his heart really wanted to say. Let's stay here. Let's forget about the wedding. Let's love each other in the comfort of our home. Please! “We will be late.”

“Mhm,” you smiled fondly, your lips drawing a soft curve on your face. You stroked Yoongi's hair, moving the bangs away from his eyes, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead.

But none of you moved.

Still listening to the music that insisted on relaxing your room, you and Yoongi stared at each other, letting the strong emotions that vibrated within your hearts extend to your bright eyes and passionate smiles.

None of you wanted to move.

But it was your best friend's wedding, the day you would see her most beautiful and happy. You couldn't miss it, not that day.

“Just so you know,” you gently placed your hand on Yoongi’s face and brought your foreheads together as you allowed your smile to expand. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

You gave Yoongi a small kiss on the lips and got up to finish getting ready.

And Yoongi remained on the bed looking at you, completely mesmerized by your words, deluded by the possibility that could happen. And Yoongi stood there, smiling as he watched you get ready, keeping secret all the jewelry stores he had contacted looking for the perfect ring for you.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [15] - Morning After

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, it's a calm one❤️ and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: The first day of marriage can be relaxing.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

When you woke up next morning, it took you a while to understand where you were because this was not your bedroom or the honeymoon suite you had been staying at for a month but—

Oh.

Barnes weekend residence.

You rubbed at your eyes and turned around in the huge bed to see Bucky sleeping soundly right beside you, still in his clothes from last night. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked down at yourself to see your white afterparty dress, then yawned and pushed yourself off the bed.

Your afterparty dress was pretty, but it was way too uncomfortable to sleep in.

You grabbed your clothes from the bag Becca had prepared for you, then made your way to the bathroom to change into them and walked back into the bedroom again. When you pulled open the curtains to let the sunlight in, the sight of the huge green yard caught your attention and you smiled slightly, leaning sideways to the windowpane.

It was a good thing you were going to get this house in divorce.

“Morning,” the raspy voice reached your ears and you turned around, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze fell on Bucky. He ran a hand over his messy hair as he sat up in the bed and you stared at him for a moment, noticing for the millionth time just how handsome he looked before you frowned, throwing your shoulders back.

“Why are we in the same bed?”

“We’re not,” he said, motioning at you. “You’re standing right there.”

“No I mean last night—”

“I hardly remember anything about last night,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes before his head snapped up. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Did we…?”

You scoffed a laugh. “You wish.”

He managed to shoot you a mischievous grin despite being sleepy, then leaned his back on the bedframe to look at you better.

“Anyway isn’t it a good start?” he asked. “I mean considering we have one bedroom in the penthouse.”

“There are two guest rooms.”

He tilted his head.

“Y/N, I need an office in the apartment and so will you,” he said. “You do realize that?”

Your frown deepened as you tried to wrap your head around the idea. You hadn’t thought about the fact that he would need an office but it made sense, most of the deals were done at bosses’ homes and now that you were going to become an active player in the business, you would need one as well.

Oh, God damn it.

“Are you serious?”

“You chose the apartment,” he reminded you. “Besides I think it’s safer for us to sleep in the same place in case of an attack, especially with everything that’s been going on in town lately.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and heaved an irritated sigh.

“Great,” you muttered. “I want one of those huge beds then.”

“Done.”

“And if you dare assume—”

“I’m not assuming anything,” he said and he got off the bed, then started unbuttoning his shirt, making your eyes widen.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said. “You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

“Um…” you trailed off, trying to focus. “No?”

“Great, I’m starving,” he said, checking his wristwatch before tossing his shirt aside. “Our chef is a genius, you’ll see.”

…Jesus, this was just simply annoying.

You tried not to stare at his muscular torso but the tattoos on his strong chest made it impossible to look elsewhere. Your eyes darted over the small numbers around the gun before slipping down to his abs, but then snapped up to his face when he cleared his throat, his cocky smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t fucking say it,” you said and he held up his hands.

“You know, if you wanted to consummate our marriage—”

“It’s not the Regency times and that will never happen.”

“Just saying, the offer is on the table whenever you want.”

“I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the fire burning your cheeks. “I’ll—I’ll go and check if the breakfast is ready, don’t be late.”

You walked away from him before he could say anything else, but you could still hear his laughter as you left the room. You shook your head as you made your way to the top of the stairs, then gritted your teeth.

“Keep your head in the game,” you muttered to yourself and went downstairs, your heart still beating fast.

                                                 *

This right here was the reason why you liked the Barnes weekend home this much even when you were growing up. It was pretty far away from the city and it was such a huge estate that it made you feel as if you had escaped from all the chaos and tension that came with the city. You and Bucky had decided to go back to the city around the evening so that no one would have any doubts about you not “enjoying” each other’s presence the morning after your wedding since you weren’t going on a honeymoon.

Bucky had given everyone the business excuse, and considering the state the city was in right now with HYDRA you were sure everyone agreed, but it was still a good idea to play it safe.

You thanked the maid who brought you your mimosa before she walked back to the house, then took a sip and leaned back on the sunbed, heaving a sigh. It was such a beautiful day so you decided to enjoy the sunlight with a book you had found in the library while Bucky was swimming in the pool. You stole a look at the pool before dragging your gaze to the green yard, then put your glass back on the small table beside you but before you could go back to your book, your phone vibrated on the table, making you frown.

“Who the…” you trailed off, then raised your brows when you saw the text.

From: Ethan

Hey, just wanted to say congratulations for the wedding.

You pursed your lips, taking a deep breath and your finger hovered over the button before you typed in your reply.

Thank you.

You sent it and saw that he was typing for a couple of seconds before you received another text.

Can we meet when you’re available? I’d like to apologize in person.

You blinked a couple of times, then sat up straighter and sent your text.

Nothing to apologize for, but I’d love to meet sometime this week?

You jolted with a gasp when Bucky’s phone started vibrating and shook your head, then put your phone down to grab his.

“Bucky!” you called out, holding up his phone and he turned in the pool to look at you, then swam towards the edge of the pool to pull himself out. A warmth spread through your stomach as he came closer to you, sunlight falling on his skin as he ran a hand through his wet hair, then grabbed a towel so that he could wipe his face. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze from his body and put the phone on the table again, pretending to be engrossed in your book.

“Hey man,” Bucky answered the phone and listened to the other line, then let out a chuckle. “Hold on I’m putting you on speaker.”

You looked up from the book at him as he flung himself on the sunbed to your left.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam’s voice reached you and you smiled.

“Hi Sam.”

“Not interrupting anything I hope?”

“Nope,” you said. “What’s up?”

“How badly did you scare Ian?”

You pulled your brows together while Bucky grinned. “What?”

“He wanted a meeting with me and Steve as soon as possible,” he said. “Today, actually. Before you got back to the city.”

“Unbelievable…” Bucky muttered, curling an arm behind his head and you bit back a smile.

“Did you say yes?”

“Are you kidding? I’m still hungover,” he said with a small laugh. “No, meetings can wait until Monday.”

“Even better,” Bucky commented. “Let him panic.”

“Did he sound panicked?”

“Oh he did,” Sam said. “And very obvious too because if it were about business, your father would be the one to call me. Arthur is the one I make deals and have meetings with, not Ian.”

You nibbled on your lip, that familiar jealousy sinking your stomach.

“Well, he’s usually in the room though,” you muttered. “Does my dad know?”

“About the meeting? I doubt it,” Sam said. “Anyways, I just wanted to let you two know. Your cousin is freaking out, Y/N.”

“Serves him right,” you said with a grin. “Thanks Sam.”

“Anytime. Buck, I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Thanks again. Tell Steve I said hi?"

“Will do,” he said and hung up, and you took your glass into your hand while the maid brought Bucky a drink. Bucky thanked her, then turned to you.

“Him being scared is going to be hilarious to watch.”

You huffed out a small laugh, then sipped your drink.

“He will try to stand in my way though,” you said and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“He will,” he said, nodding his head. “And we will run him over.”

That managed to put a smile on your face and you nibbled on your lip, looking down at your drink.

“Having second thoughts?” Bucky asked and you frowned, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “No, never. I want this, I just—I also know it will make my dad furious when he finds out what I’m trying to do.”

“He can be furious all he wants,” Bucky said. “You’re the right choice here. He’ll see.”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to get rid of the familiar nervousness pulsing through you. You weren’t so used to going directly against your father ever since you were a child, especially on important things, and the family business was as important as it got.

You wished he could just name you the heir. That he could just let you prove yourself instead of pretending he couldn’t see that Ian was not fit to be the next boss, but since he refused to do it, you refused to feel bad about what he forced you to do.

He had promised you the position after all, so many years ago.

You snapped out of your thoughts and turned your head when Bucky’s vibranium hand touched yours.

“Hm?”

“Swim with me,” he said, shooting you an irresistible smirk that made your heart skip a beat, but you pulled yourself together and scoffed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’d be fun.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with the idea of having fun by yourself,” you snarked, grabbing your book again to turn the page. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Bucky shot you a grin.

“Fine, stay here and pretend you’re not staring then.”

“I don’t even notice your presence,” you shot back as he got up from the sunbed, then walked to jump into the pool again. You stole a look at him, then clicked your tongue.

“Much,” you added quietly to yourself. “I don’t notice your presence much.”

                                                    *

By the time you and Bucky got to the city, it was already evening. The road hadn’t taken you long, but spending the whole day by the pool and knowing that tomorrow you had to plan just how exactly you would first get involved in the business at least officially made you feel quite tired.

And it was going to be the first night you would stay in your and Bucky’s new apartment.

In the same bed.

Lovely.

Having already ordered the biggest bed you could find, you were sure that this time tomorrow, you would be able to go to sleep and not even notice you were not alone in the bed but tonight was going to be rather challenging. You knew you had slept in the same bed last night, but both of you had been drunk so—

Getting drunk tonight as well sounded like a good idea actually.

When you reached the top floor and saw Bucky’s men patrolling the hallway, you repressed a yawn and followed Bucky to the door of the apartment. He unlocked it, then turned to you with a grin.

“What—” you started but was cut off when he hoisted you up bridal style, making you let out a surprised squeal. “Bucky!”

“It’s tradition,” Bucky said, still grinning. “We’re a traditional couple.”

“No we’re not, put me down!” you said, trying your hardest to stop the giggle threatening to spill from your lips as you held onto his shirt, painfully aware of Bucky’s men stealing glances at you two. Bucky opened the door and stepped inside with you in his arms, then kicked the door close with his foot.

“You’re unbelievable!” you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling as he put you down, and he had the audacity to give you an innocent look.

“What?” he said. “Sweetheart, we’re married now. I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold.”

You lowered your head just so that you could hide your smile and smoothed over your dress, then turned your head to see the multiple gift boxes and flowers in the living room.

“Ah,” you said. “I almost forgot about the wedding gifts.”

“Did we put weapons on the gift list?”

“No,” you said, making your way to the living room. “But we got them, probably. I call dibs on any knives we get by the way.”

“I told Steve I wanted brass knuckles,” Bucky said. “I think he got us a matching pair.”

“Oh I love brass knuckles.”

“I saw this really cool—” Bucky started but stopped talking when a small meow reached your ears. You pulled your brows together and opened your mouth to ask whether he heard it too, but a white ball of fur wheezed through the living room.

“What the…” you trailed off when a beautiful white cat with a pink ribbon on her leash reached you, and sat down to look up at you with wide blue eyes.

“Mrow?”

“Are you seeing this as well?” you asked Bucky and he nodded.

“Why do we have a cat?”

“She’s so cute—did she come with the apartment?” you asked. “No, right? She wasn’t here when we first saw here.”

“No I don’t think…” Bucky said and walked to the door to open it. “Aaron?”

“Mr. Barnes.”

“Who brought the cat?”

“Miss Becca, sir,” the man replied and you bent down to scratch at the cat’s head, making her close her eyes for a moment, purring.

“Hi there,” you whispered, smiling wide. “Aren’t you the cutest thing in the world?”

“Jesus…” Bucky muttered as he closed the door, then took out his phone and touched the screen before putting it on speaker. “I mean it's Becca, of course she-"

“Hey there!” Becca’s cheerful voice filled the room and you looked up, still scratching the cat’s head.

“Becca, why is there a cat in our apartment?” Bucky asked, making her gasp.

“That’s your baby!”

You bit back a smile, fixing the ribbon on the cat’s leash while Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Right," he said. "And why do we have a baby on the first day of our marriage?”

“Because as you said, you’re married now which means you guys can be all responsible and stuff,” she answered. “Her name is Alpine by the way. She’s my wedding gift to you, isn’t she sweet?”

You picked Alpine up, holding her in your arms. “You know, a lot of people just sent flowers as a gift.”

“A lot of people are boring,” Becca replied. “Leila’s friend found her on the street, the poor thing! I’d keep her but Leila is allergic, so there you go. Now you two have a daughter.”

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” you nodded solemnly and Bucky blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were playing along.

“Y/N…”

“I gotta go now, enjoy the first night of parenthood!” Becca said and hung up, making Bucky gawk at the phone before putting it back into his pocket.

“Of course she got us a cat,” he muttered. “Of course.”

Alpine purred in your arms, making you smile down at her before looking up at Bucky.

“We should probably buy stuff for her,” you said, looking around the apartment. “A bed, some food, toys…”

Bucky’s brows rose. “Hold on, we’re keeping her?”

“Of course we are, you heard Becca. She’s our daughter, apparently,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders as you walked to the door. “Her surname will be dashed as well, by the way. Mine and yours together.”

“Y/N—”

“Come on!” you called out as you stepped out of the apartment with Alpine still purring happily and Bucky heaved a sigh, then followed you to the elevator.

Chapter 16

[princessmaybank]

Truth or Dare

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealous JJ, stripping, fingering, squirting, etc.

Summary: They play t or d.

Authors Note: I didn't mean to post this so soon, but since it's out already I hope you like it, I'm just stopping it here, if you like it let me know if you want a part 2 :(.

"Truth or Dare?" John B asks darting his eyes to Cleo. "Oh come on man! You should already know the answer!" He smirked and nodded. You were at the chateau in the hot tub that JJ so graciously purchased for you all a few months back. Everyone was slugging down beers and having a big night of fun.

"I dare you to read the last text message you sent out loud." JB said shrugging, showing us that's all he has prepared. "oh man, too easy!" Cleo flung her arms upwards then reached for her phone. After she got to her messages she cleared her throat. " 'What we gonna do tonight?' I sent that to Sarah man." John B rolled his eyes in defeat, secretly hoping she had sent a naughty message to Pope or something.

"Okay Y/N, truth or dare?" She moved on quickly. "Dare of course." You responded, causing JJ to look at you with a slight smile. You and JJ are best friends, and always have been. Of course everyone in that hot tub was your best friend, but JJ was different, you could talk about literally anything for hours on end. He's always been there for you.

"I dare you to prank call Rafe Cameron. Pretend to want him and need him." Cleo ended with a smirk pointing to your phone. You didn't mind the dare but a certain blonde about a foot behind you definitely cared. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions, everything he wanted to say was already written on his face. "I don't think that's a good idea Y/N." You hear JJ say with a stern voice from behind you. "Oh calm your tits Jayj, what's the worst that could happen? I get a boyfriend?" You responded making all the girls giggle.

"It's ringing!" Kiara said out loud so everyone knew what was going on. Kiara was very close to the phone with you but it was pressed against your ear. "Hey Rafe!" You said a little too enthusiastic for JJ's liking. "Hey, Y/N. What do I owe this pleasant surprise?" He asked, gratefully. "Well I really wanted to tell you that I think of you a lot Rafe. It's getting to be too much now. I can't shake the feeling of needing to be with you." Everyone was giggling at that moment, other than one person, I'm sure you could guess who. Your eyes caught JJ's as he rolled them and crossed his arms. You could see how this was affecting him, so why not play some more. "Wow, I've been wai-" You cut Rafe's sentence short. "Rafe, mmmmm I need you so bad right now. Ohhhh." You pretend to moan into the phone. "Oh baby, are you touching yourself to me?" He asked clearly turned on. Kiara gagged and walked a few feet away. "Oh yes I am, but I wish it was you..." You paused for dramatic effect.

"Daddy." You smirked holding back a giggle, hearing Rafe groan into the phone. Next thing you know JJ is standing in front of you hanging up the call, fuming. He was legitimately tomato red. Everyone watched, curious about what he was going to do.

He grabbed your waist pulling you as close as he could while looking into your eyes. "Don't you ever pull that shit again." His eyes never left yours. You wanted to stand up for yourself but the only thing that left your mouth was "o-okay." He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good girl." There was that feeling of butterflies in your stomach. JJ never made you feel this way. What was happening? "When this little party is over you're coming to my room, we have things to talk about." He whispered again.

Everyone sat back down choosing to ignore how JJ nearly killed/fucked you right then and there. You chose to ignore it as well even though the tingling between your legs is making it difficult.

Instead of you asking the next question Pope cut the tension and began after Sarah. "Truth or dare?" He asked. Sarah obviously chose the safe route at this moment. "Is it true that even though you and JB are married, you'll still have a huge wedding and legally do it?" Pope asked. Awe of course he would, it's Pope. Sarah nodded "Of course I still want my dream wedding! Don't be silly Pope." She giggled.

"Okay J- Kiara, yeah Kiara. Truth or dare?" No one could look at JJ right now how would they be able to play this game right now?

"I'll say, truth." She smiled lightly. "Ok here's a little would you rather. Would you rather, fuck Topper or Kelce?" Kiara gasped. "Ew, can I kill myself instead?" She gagged. Everyone laughed and accepted that as her answer.

Eventually someone asked JJ the question and he ended up chugging some beer upside down. You still couldn't get those low-flying butterflies to go away. The thought of JJ taking you right there was fogging your brain.

After about an hour longer everyone was headed home or to bed. Pope and Cleo went back to the Heywards and Kiara went back to her house. Sarah decided to stay at the chateau with John B, then of course JJ asked you to go to his room and talk with him.

You sat on JJ's bed after getting your shower, you waited for him to finish up in the shower. JJ left some of his clothes on his bed for you to change into.

Next thing you knew, you were under JJ, making out with him on his bed. You had no idea how you got here but you weren't going to complain.

JJ pulled you onto his lap, never disconnecting your lips from each other. He held onto your hips and pressed down as he grinded up. You moved your hips at a faster pace needing the friction. He tore his lips from yours taking a breath before speaking. "Truth or dare?" He asked as you rolled your eyes. JJ gave you a look that said 'just answer it'. So you did. "Dare." You said with confidence streaming through your veins. JJ rubbed your hips, slowly reaching for your butt to squeeze.

"Strip for me baby." He said as he squeezed. You blushed not knowing how to react. "Come on baby, let me see that gorgeous body you've got hiding under my baggy clothes." When JJ said that, you began to melt. You decided to just take your shirt off while on his lap. You weren't wearing a bra so he got quite the show very quickly. You got off of him as he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed. The idea to strip tease JJ came to your mind so that's exactly what you did.

At some point when you were completely naked, you wanted to tease him so you sat on his lap and pulled one of his hands forward to your aching hole. You teased yourself with his fingers, secretly wanting him to continue what you had started. Which he had no problem with doing. He pushed two fingers inside of you causing a gasp and moan mix, to fall from your lips.

JJ's hand raced to cover your mouth. "Shhhh you have to be quiet, baby, or we'll get caught." He whispered in your ear. You nodded and bit your lip as JJ moved his fingers back and forth in your tight hole. JJ was making you so wet, your pussy was so loud that you might just get caught by being fingered. "Tell your pussy to be quiet." He giggled in your ear. "Tell your fingers to stop making me feel so good then." You moaned leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

JJ smirked to himself, knowing he was doing a good job. He sped up trying to make you cum but you suddenly felt embarrassed. "JJ- this f-eels so g-good..but I think I have to go..to the bathroom-" That was music to JJ's ears. His movements only got faster, he moved your hand to your clit so you could help by rubbing yourself.

"JJ- I-I" A loud squeal started erupting from your mouth. JJ slapped his hand across your mouth. One more swift push into your pussy and he pulled out, a gush of fluid came rushing out. You kept moaning into his hand. He continued playing with your cunt until you were done squirting.

"Something tells me you've never done that before baby."

[nanaminokanojo]

Between 7:00pm and 8:31pm | gojo x you

TW/CW: mentions of death/dying | shibuya arc | misanthropic thoughts | just angst | strong language

"For the greater good? Fuck that."

Four pairs of eyes simultaneously darted towards you, devoid of judgment. More or less, they understood what you were getting at, but you knew what they meant without words. You weren't supposed to say that. Such was your duty and purpose as a jujutsu sorcerer. But you did anyway, giving a voice to the white elephant in the room, acknowledging what everyone was afraid to even give a single moment's thought.

The greater good? Who does it serve anyway? At whose expense? Your friends' lives? Why? Because you were stronger than the rest of humanity? The strongest for the preservation of the lives of the weak?

You were strong. That should be the end of the conversation. You didn't owe anyone for it. You chose to be strong, and those who were born like you weren't there to play the role of anyone's savior just because they have the means.

Fushiguro Megumi was right: you weren't heroes. You may choose whom you want to save. Your addition to that was the fact that you can choose whether to save others or not. That's the cold, hard truth you wanted to live by without having to apologize for it, but that would shake the very foundations the jujutsu society stood for.

You looked towards Gojo. You knew he was looking at you even with his blindfold on and the lack of physical indication that his attention was on you. And somehow, it seemed to weigh more than any of the looks every one else in the room gave you. It angered you that he was resigned to it all when he was the best out of all of you, the strongest, the honored one. He can do whatever the hell he wants and yet he was there with you, wholeheartedly accepting orders to deal with whatever was happening in Shibuya at the moment.

Alone.

"Now isn't the time to –" Nanami spoke, and you usually wouldn't dare with the degree of respect you held for him, but you interrupted him.

"No, seriously. What does this have to do with us?" you asked, stunning them further. You looked at Nanami who was able to escape this life but came back anyway, confusion and rage glimmering in your eyes despite your calm manner. He could have a good life away from everything, but what the hell was he doing there?

And now they're thinking of sending Gojo alone to play along with whatever schemes the enemies are brewing? They're letting him walk into something that – although he was possibly capable of putting an end to – was, by all means, a trap? You refused to stand for it.

You didn't understand. Ever since you were a child, you were taught and trained to become what you are: a jujutsu sorcerer before you were a human; a tool for this greater good – whatever that meant – before you're a feeling, living being. But as time passed by, watching all the people you knew, good ones, lose their lives for this one-track cause, the less you knew. Why do you have to save them? Lives begin and end. It's just there. Why should those people's lives matter more than yours did? Because they're good? On whose standards?

"Y/N," Yaga warned, evidently seeing the ghost of someone he thought he knew well from last year. "This has already been decided by the higher-ups."

"And nobody dared question it?"

"You're treading dangerous waters there," the principal stated, raising his voice. "This is what we do. It's what you chose to do. Have you come to resent it?"

"There lies my mistake."

Shoko placed a hand on your shoulder. "You don't mean that."

"Geto was right." There, you said it, distabilizing the very principles you all stood for.

"Don't go there –"

You gave everyone a sweeping glare, silencing even Yaga. "His methods will never be right, but he knew what he was talking about." You chuckled bitterly. "He always did. And now he's gone."

You started walking out of the room but paused by the bench where Gojo was seated, still looking unbothered. "I never cared that you were the strongest. To me, you're just Satoru."

You looked behind your shoulder. "That applies to you all."

"Where are you going?" Nanami asked.

"You will excuse me if I do not wish to have a hand in murdering my friends or myself for that matter."

**

"You underestimate me."

You blew the cigarette smoke you were holding in as you stared at the clear signs of veils laid out over the busy streets of Shibuya from where you stood on a building rooftop. Without acknowledging the presence behind you, you finished the last drag of smoke, the burn in your throat and lungs feeling better than all your bitter thoughts and feelings towards the world you've come to know.

"'Just Satoru', eh?"

"You're purposefully being an idiot if you didn't understand what I meant by that." You glanced at Gojo when he came close enough. "Even more so if you think I'll ever underestimate you."

He chuckled. "So, you don't want me to go?" he asked in that melodic, carefree voice, slightly bending down towards the side as if he needed that to take a better look at you. "You have so little faith –"

"Faith, I have too much in you, not because you're strong, but because you are you. What I don't have is sympathy or trust for anyone who thinks they can rely on you all the time to straighten things out."

"And proud?" You let out a humorless laugh. "There's nothing to be proud of in death. There's never any ounce of dignity in it whether you die saving others or if you get snuffed out meaninglessly. It all ends the same way."

His weirdly glossy lips protruded at your sentiment. "Aren't you proud that people are able rely on us?"

"This is wrong." Everything was conveyed in those three words you uttered without any need for elaboration. Gojo merely smiled.

"So, you're scared of dying?"

"No. Dying is easy. That's all where we're headed at one point. You know what's terrifying though?"

"What?"

You finally looked at him. "Giving your life to this cause knowing it changes nothing."

"How very nihilistic."

You shrugged. "A hundred years from now, curses will still be around, kept alive by the very beings we're fighting for at present. And for what? For future generations who will produce curses, stronger and harder to fathom and defeat? All because they can't accept they're just products of a chance in their search to have higher purpose and superiority in life.

We ourselves are cursed. We control that very form of energy to prevent it from evolving into monsters, but it eats us up for the very same reasons."

"Those reasons being...?"

"We're stronger so perhaps we should be responsible for protecting lives around us. Whoever thought of that was fucking cocky, but really, who are we kidding, Gojo?"

He snickered, no doubt thrilled by your unfiltered thoughts. After him, you were probably the biggest thorn on the higher-ups' side with your radical thoughts, at least by their standards. But he still wanted you to jump all the hoops. "Thus your belief that Suguru was right?"

"I'm worse than him. I just don't act on it. I'm super sold on the fact that humans are the scum of the earth, sorcerer or not."

"You're human and a sorcerer?" he pointed out, trying to vex you.

"Exactly."

Gojo patted your head. "And yet you're still here for the very purpose you dare spit on."

You smirked at him. "I don't want you to have to kill another one of your friends for insubordination and subscribing to the ideologies of our realm's Lord Voldemort."

"Suguru had hair and a nose though?"

"He's prettier, too, that cult-leading fucker, but not the point, dumbass."

It was both funny and sad how you speak of the fallen Geto Suguru so fondly as if he didn't kickstart the most massive chaos in recent jujutsu history. But like Gojo, to you, he was just Suguru.

Just then, Gojo pulled you into his long arms, giving you a bear hug that annoyed you more than anything. "You've always been our sweetest Y/N even if you act like Ryomen Sukuna's spawn."

You pushed Gojo off of you, straightening your hair out in irritation. "He's my ancestor after all."

You both made disgusted faces at that little detail about you, but as always, Gojo was quick to recover into his cheerful façade. "Don't worry. I'll be back."

He said that, but not even an hour later, you were hearing Itadori Yuuji screaming from the top of a building in the middle of the deserted Shibuya.

Gojo Satoru has been sealed by none other than the very person – or at least whatever now resides in him – whose beliefs you agreed were right.

[joojeans]

˚◞♡ ⃗ I Dare You Pt. 3

♡ Bestfriend!Nicholas x Afab!Reader

♡ Summary: You’re sitting on the floor with your friends playing a juvenile game–truth or dare. Things have been spiraling out of control for some time now, but what happens when you’re dared to turn on one of your best friends without touching them? Can they handle it? Can you handle it? Spoiler alert: neither of you can. Find out how things go from seriously fucked up to seriously fucked, one member at a time.

♡ WC: 3.9k

♡ Content: lbr nicholas needs a warning all on his own, nicholas is falsely confident at the beginning, the boys are on each other's asses, reader is head empty only nicholas (real), oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), 'baby' used a couple of times, creampie

♡ PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

“You’re so cute. You can barely handle telling us a little dirty secret without your ears getting all red.”

You can barely hear Nicholas–your attention on K’s phone as he shows you a funny video–but you know he’s talking to Euijoo. It was just his turn during this round of truth or dare. You think you remember the question being about a fantasy of his, but you weren’t really paying attention, to be perfectly honest. You thought K wasn’t either until you hear him scoff at Nicholas’s teasing, looking up from his phone with a taunting smirk.

“I wouldn’t talk if I were you. You get a tent in your pants if the wind blows the wrong way.”

You look up now, choking back a laugh at a smug Euijoo and an annoyed Nicholas, tongue pushing into his cheek.

“Hey, fuck you.” Nicholas retorts, half playful, half deadly serious.

“Prove it then.” Euijoo. Silence follows for a second as everyone looks at him curiously. His ears are burning slightly from all the attention, but he’s determined not to back down right now. “It’s your turn. Let’s see how easily you crumble with a little attention.”

“Bro, unless you’re planning on making a move on me, I’m not following.”

Euijoo hesitates for a moment, realizing he hasn’t thought his plan and its implications through. He reluctantly looks in your direction but he can’t bring himself to say what he was thinking. Luckily for him, Fuma seems to understand. He chuckles.

“Y/n, I think he’s suggesting that you should be the one to give this a go.”

You watch as Nicholas’s eyes grow wide, shocked. Somehow even more shocked, Euijoo sits up straight from his spot on the couch, shaking his head insistently. “N-no. I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t think I was–”

“Euijoo, relax. It’s fine.” You laugh, a fondness in your heart. “Obviously I should be the one to give this a go. Look at me. He wouldn’t be able to resist.” You wink, hoping to soothe his nerves. It seems to work, his shoulders relaxing and his bright smile creeping back onto his face.

You dart your eyes next to him: Nicholas. He looks antsy–nervous?–thinly veiled with surety. As expected.

“So? Are you going to let me try? I believe this is your dare, so it’ll look really embarrassing for you if you chicken out.” You’re poking the bear. You’re smug.

Nicholas exhales a laugh, his eyebrows indicating his surprise at the situation he’s found himself in. “I’m not going to stop you.”

You smirk. Perfect. “Okay, so what are the rules?” You ask, glancing at everyone else for guidelines. Nicholas probably doesn’t have much of a say here.

“I think…” K starts, humming as he ponders. “Everything is fair game as long as you don’t touch his dick. That would be too easy.” The other men mumble their agreement, heads nodding.

“Easy enough. You ready?”

Peacocking, Nicholas sits further back into the couch, spreading his arms out along the cushions on either side of his head. He lets his legs fall open, inviting you to his entire body. No verbal confirmation needed.

You don’t believe him. You know you can get him to fold. Without wasting much time, you stand up and make your way to the couch. Once you’re standing in front of Nicholas, his eyes firmly on yours, Euijoo quickly moves from his end of the couch, taking the seat on the floor next to K.

You’re just gazing at each other. He’s looking up at you like he’s expecting your best effort. You’re looking at him like you can’t wait to fuck with his head. Smiling much too sweetly, you slowly lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes follow you, a glimmer of fear igniting in them. You know exactly what he’s afraid of. He knows he’s fucked already. He’s still trying to pretend that’s not the case.

“Hi, Nicholas.” You coo, both hands curling over his kneecaps.

“Hey,” he says simply. He doesn’t plan on giving you much to work with. That’s okay.

“I hope you’re having fun tonight.” Your hands glide slowly up the tops of his thighs, venturing to the outer sides as you move higher, careful to avoid his crotch. His eyes are trying to decide whether to look at you or watch your hands, ping ponging back and forth. “I know I am.” Your hands move up to his hips, finding the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers curl into the belt loops on the sides.

And then you pull.

Just enough to yank his body down the couch a bit more. Just enough to have his torso almost parallel to the ceiling. The soft, surprised gasp that pushes out of his lips is gorgeous.

Just this much is enough to extinguish the confidence in his eyes almost completely.

You fight the urge to smirk at him, keeping up the innocent appearance despite your actions being anything but. You untangle your fingers from his belt loops, your hands hovering by his sides as you look up at him. “That’s better, isn’t it? Much more comfortable this way.” You muse the words, not believing them, but selling them to him anyway. You keep your eyes on his as your thumbs hook under the hem of his t-shirt. You push your hands up slowly until his stomach is exposed to you and then you stop. His lips are parted in awe.

In an attempt to lighten the tension that’s building up in his body, Nicholas forces a laugh. “Y/n, what are you even doing? This is ridiculous…”

“Mm.” You hum, tilting your head like a confused puppy, your lashes batting sweetly. You don’t humor him, instead leaning down towards his stomach. You see his skin jump as you approach it, your lips far too close. “Pretty,” you mumble, bringing your hand up to stroke the small tuft of hair above his jeans. He tenses more. You smile.

“Y/n.”

You pause for just a moment to look back up at him. You want to give him the opportunity to stop you if he’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything more. You know it’s just stalling. So you continue, moving your hands to hold his waist securely as you close the space between the two of you, placing gentle, open-mouthed kisses on his stomach.

You can tell from the shaky exhales and the single fuck that you both know he’s lost already. You don’t need to do much more, but you’re having a good time. You move your lips over his skin, covering every inch of his stomach with a wet kiss. 

To your surprise (and pleasure), you feel Nicholas’s hand slide into the back of your hair, his fingers curling to hold you there, to keep you doing what you’re doing. The unexpected move makes you freeze for just a moment, your attention momentarily drifting to a stirring in your stomach. You’ve got to finish up. You are not supposed to be the one turned on by this.

Eager to put an end to this before it gets out of control, you set up for your final move. Your lips kiss down the soft happy trail guiding you to his jeans. You don’t have to see Nicholas to know he’s watching with bated breath, secretly hoping you’re going to properly finish him off. 

Alas, that would be against the rules.

Taking advantage of his hope, you move your lips just over the waistband of his jeans, collecting the button in your mouth. You pull just slightly with your teeth and then the worst thing imaginable happens: Nicholas moans.

Oh no. Now the sensation in your stomach is wafting lower, taking up residence between your plush thighs.

You let the button snap free of your teeth and pull back slightly. You internally recenter yourself as best as you can, taking notice of the fact that Nicholas’s jeans aren’t hiding his obvious arousal. Seeing your success lets you forget your own growing arousal momentarily, a proud smirk on your lips as you look back up to Nicholas. “Well, would you look at that?”

Groaning when he realizes you’re really going to stop here, Nicholas rolls his eyes and grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap. “Oh, fuck off. Any of the guys in here would have responded the same.”

The room erupts with snickers. Not sure where to sit now that Euijoo is in your spot, you move up to sit next to Nicholas on the couch. He’s mindlessly playing with the rings on his fingers, trying to distract himself from his own urges. You almost feel bad until you remember how smug he was.

Everyone tries to steer the night back into a less tense direction for the next few minutes, but it’s not working for Nicholas.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” He says suddenly. “Thanks to all of you, I now have a problem to take care of.” Assuring everyone that he’s not upset, he playfully throws the pillow he was holding at Euijoo and smiles the way he always does. He turns to look at you, equally playful. “Thanks, y/n. You’re truly evil.”

You watch as he stands up, tucking his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys from the table. He says his goodbyes and then he’s gone. Just like that.

Or so you think.

Only moments after the front door closes behind him, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out only to find a message from Nicholas.

Meet me at my place in 20.

Oh. Oh.

You look up, relieved to see none of the guys are paying attention to you, too busy staring at K’s phone screen like you had been doing earlier. It’s a perfect out, you realize.

“Well…” You start, waiting for them to look at you so you know you have their attention for the small act you’re about to put on for them. “I think I should get going too. You guys are entertaining yourselves and I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap after what you made me do.”

K laughs. Fuma and Euijoo nod their understanding, wincing as if they were the ones that were touching Nicholas like that. No one protests.

-

As you step out of the uber outside Nicholas’s apartment, reality finally settles in.

What am I doing here? Why did I just do what Nicholas told me to do without thinking about it? Why did I make up an excuse to come here? Why am I not changing my mind? Why are my feet already making their way to his door? Why am I knocking?

Nicholas opens the door and only then do you realize how fast your heart is beating.

He looks exactly the same as he did before but you’re not seeing him the same right now. Without a word, he steps to the side, inviting you in. He seems to be pretty sure that you’ll do so, but can you blame him? You just came to his apartment without so much as a question. You step inside, feeling the light of his apartment dim as he closes the door behind you.

You’re just standing there now. You feel and must look awkward, but you’re not sure what to do. You have an idea of why he might’ve invited you, but you don’t want to assume and look like a fool in front of him. So you just stand. Waiting.

You glance down when you feel Nicholas’s hand capture yours in his, gently pulling you to him as he leans against the wall perpendicular to his front door. You’re pressed to his chest–hands resting there–and your eyes are locked on each other’s. He lets go of your hand, letting his hands take up residence around your waist instead. His hands feel secure on your lower back.

Everything is way too quiet for how bizarre this is.

“So did you have fun?” It’s like he could sense your objection to the silence.

“I…” You swallow, not quite sure how to answer. “Yeah.”

A small smirk on his lips, a peek of pretty teeth. “Yeah?” His tongue glides over his bottom lip, one of his hands playing with the hem of your shirt at the back. He never takes his eyes from you. “So then we should keep having fun, right?”

You narrow your eyes, partly to disguise your intrigue. “That’s what you called me here for? It was a dare, Nicholas. I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

“I didn’t call you here to fuck you. I just thought we could maybe…” His eyes fall to your lips, his smirk widening. He glances back up to your eyes, briefly searching for a hint of opposition and finds none. He drops his head slightly, pressing his lips to your jaw, kissing across it until he’s in perfect proximity to your ear. “I thought maybe we could make out a little. What do you think?”

You don’t think. You can’t. All you can do is feel the burn from his lips and imagine that feeling everywhere else. Your eyes close briefly as you try to find some semblance of self-control. Nicholas must notice because he allows himself a soft chuckle before taking hold of your chin. Your eyes open again and he’s looking down his nose at you. “If you don’t tell me you’re not interested, I’m going to kiss you.”

You can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t want him to kiss you, but you’re too stubborn to admit you want it. So you keep quiet, swallowing the remnants of the resistance you never had to begin with. As promised, Nicholas leans in, hand still holding your chin in place for him, and presses his lips to yours.

It starts out light, lips barely moving against each other, afraid to do more than they’re supposed to. Nicholas’s free palm presses flat against your back, pressing you even closer to him, and your mouth opens in surprise. Nicholas takes this as an opportunity to test the waters, licking into your mouth, slowly, carefully, pleased when you moan in response. He drops your chin, his hand sliding into your hair instead as he pushes the gentle kiss into a heated meeting of lips and tongues, his other hand sliding down the back of your jeans, palming the flesh covered by flimsy panties.

Everything is escalating quickly all of a sudden, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels good.

You let your body fall against Nicholas’s, trusting him to keep you on your feet. One arm moves around his neck, the other hand feeling the skin beneath his shirt. The skin your lips were on not so long ago. You feel the muscles there tense beneath your fingers, his mouth punctuating the effect of your touch by taking your lip between his teeth. He bites hard enough to warn you, but not enough to hurt. You’re not deterred.

Your heads are tilting this way and that, mouths opening and breaths taking on weight as you kiss each other like you’ve been dreaming about it. It’s messy and desperate. He’s trying to pull you impossibly closer and you’re trying to memorize the feeling of his skin. You don’t miss the way his hands tighten in your hair and squeeze your ass each time he pulls a moan from you. You don’t miss the way he’s straining against his jeans, grinding yourself against him, pleased yourself when he groans into your mouth.

He pulls back, shaking his head to clear it, his hands freezing where they are before dropping to his sides. “We should stop.”

Your head is still spinning. You’re still reeling. “I–why?”

Nicholas leans his head back against the wall and looks at you, panting. “Because we’re getting to a point of no return.” He pauses, exhales heavily. “And I want to respect your boundaries.”

No.

You’re panting too, looking at him, searching his eyes. “What if I changed my mind?”

He cocks his head, unsure if he believes you. “You better not be playing with me right now, y/n.”

“I’m not.”

Famous last words.

Nicholas scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His lips are on yours the entire way, not giving either of you a second to think yourselves out of this. He carefully lays you down, hovering over you as he follows. His hands are all over you now–ghosting, groping, gliding. You’re pulling at his shirt and he’s all too happy to pull it off for you, only needing one hand to do so. He tosses it away before his hands focus on yours, sliding it up your body so he can kiss your stomach, his fingers working the fasteners of your jeans.

You use the moment to try and catch your breath, your back arching into every kiss Nicholas places around your navel. So fucking pretty, you hear him mumble more to himself than to you. You sigh dreamily, pushing your hand back through your hair as Nicholas lifts your hips to pull your jeans off. He kisses up the insides of your legs starting from your feet until he’s reached his target–your wet, panty-clad cunt. He presses a kiss to the center before peeling them away, smirking as he listens to you whimper for more contact.

His mouth finds your now-exposed sex like a starved man, tongue swirling around your clit and dipping down through your folds to gather your arousal, to taste it. He hums his satisfaction, eyes closing as he lets himself enjoy feasting on you. You’d swear you’ve never felt anything like it. Your hand grabs at his hair, pulling for some sense of grounding, and he groans, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

Nicholas takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, allowing his eyes to open and look up, wanting to see the way your body shakes in response. You do just that, moaning louder than you anticipate, and Nicholas eats it up. He doesn’t want to make you cum too quickly so he releases your clit, letting only his fingers glide through your slick. “You’re so wet, y/n,” he notes with a smirk. Just an observation, he’d say if you were to challenge him.

“Just take your fucking pants off,” you quip with a smirk of your own.

“Yes ma’am.” He’s grinning now, one hand pumping two fingers into your cunt while the other undresses his lower half.

His fingers feel good. His rings are adding to the stretch and the cold metal makes you shiver. “Fuck,” you sigh, sure you’re in a wet dream. Nicholas chuckles lowly before removing his fingers, much to your dismay. He moves back up your body, letting you watch as he cleans your arousal from his fingers with his mouth. You watch in awe, feeling new waves of it pooling between your thighs. He winks when he finishes, his face hovering just above yours, his hand gripping the side of your neck.

“Last chance to tell me to fuck off.” You can sense his hand stroking his cock between your bodies, waiting only for your go ahead. The cocksure look on his face says he knows you won’t be doing that.

You roll your eyes, both annoyed and fond. “Don’t make me change my mind again.”

Nicholas grins, lowering his mouth back to yours. He’s more nibbling and tugging than kissing this time, his hand guiding his throbbing cock inside you. You both hiss at the initial stretch and resistance, both pairs of eyelids fluttering from the relief. He pushes inside you slowly, making sure not to cause you any discomfort while he bottoms out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” The rasp in his voice is enough to make you clench around him and he hisses again in response.

You tilt your head back as Nicholas’s hand travels up the side of your neck, taking hold of the side of your face as he starts to move, thrusting into you at a pace you both can adjust to well. He keeps your face turned to his with his grip and even though it makes everything feel more intimate than maybe it should, it’s also really fucking hot. “Feels good, baby?” He asks, his eyes boring into yours, his hips slowly picking up their pace. You nod because yeah. It feels so fucking good. Too good, maybe.

You like the feeling of Nicholas keeping you in place the way he wants you. You like the way he’s constantly kissing you as he fucks you, groaning against your lips when he thrusts into you particularly hard, grinning when you moan his name. You like the sight of his hair dripping with sweat and his thick silver chain dangling above you. You like the way he pays so much attention to you, especially when he starts fucking into you at a relentless pace that neither of you will be able to withstand long. You like the way he asks you if it feels good, if you want more, if you’re going to cum for him when he feels you quivering beneath him.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum too.” His voice is so low now that you almost can’t hear him properly. He finally looks away from you, eyes trained on your lower halves. His mouth is open as he puts all of his concentration into hitting just the right spot inside of you, sucking air through his teeth as he staves off his own orgasm until he can pull one out of you. “Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me feel you.”

But you don’t need to be told. He’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars, your head pressing back into the mattress under you and your hands clutching at his arms. The moan that accompanies your orgasm is lewd, echoing your gratefulness for release. You twitch as he fucks you through it, equally grateful for your orgasm so he no longer has to postpone his own. His eyes squeeze shut as he releases inside of you and he’s never looked prettier–jaw tense but open, brows furrowed, skin gleaming with sweat. The strangled moan is on loop inside your head, music to your ears.

As Nicholas comes down from his high, he opens his eyes once again, smiling weakly but happily at your fucked out face. He carefully pulls out of you and gathers you in his arms, rolling the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest. His chest is heaving beneath your head, his arm securely around your lower back. Again, you feel like this is maybe a little bit more intimate than it should be, but it still doesn’t feel that way. It just feels comfortable with Nicholas.

You stay silent for a few minutes, both of you catching your breath and recovering. As your brain comes back to you, you have a question.

“Nicholas?” “Yeah, baby?”

You ignore the ‘baby.’ You’ll correct him later. “When we were playing the game earlier, were you imagining what it would be like if I gave you head?”

He laughs. He wasn’t expecting that to be the question right now. “Uh…yeah.”

You laugh now. “So…why was I the one that got head then?”

Nicholas thinks. He thinks some more. “...Ladies first?”

You both laugh this time. He’s implying there will be a next time, you think to yourself. You don’t correct him. You’ll do that later too.