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fayes-fics · 8 months

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A Beneficial Arrangement

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.

Word Count: 6.1 k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3

It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.

“The Viscount is in want of a wife.”

That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.

“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.”

You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.

“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”

——

3 days later.

He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.

“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.

“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic.

His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.

“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.

“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.

And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.

——

9 days later.

“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade.

It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.

He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.

“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”

The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.

“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.

“Every word,” he replies solemnly.

“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.

“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”

He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.

“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.

You are married within three weeks.

——

6 weeks later.

‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.

“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.

“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.

“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.

“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.

“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision.

“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.

“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.

“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.

“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him.

To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.

It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.

When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.

“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.

You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction.

You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.

——

1 month later.

You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.

So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.

“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”

Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.

As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.

Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.

“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.

Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.

“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.

You sigh.

“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.

“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.

Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.

“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.

It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.

——

2 months later.

Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.

“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.

“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.

“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”

“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.

“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.

“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.

His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.

“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.”

But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman.

And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.

“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.

The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first.

“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.

“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.

“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”

“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.

“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.

A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.

“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.

“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”

“What made you change your mind?”

He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.

“You.”

The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now….

Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.

“Do not dare,” you growl.

His mouth falls open in shock.

“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.

“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.

You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his.

They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.

Good lord.

You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.

And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together.

He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.

He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.

“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.

“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.

He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.

“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.

You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.

“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.

He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.

“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.

“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”

“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.

But he doesn’t answer your question directly.

“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.

You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”

Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk.

Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.

“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.

“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.

He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”

“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.

“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member.

“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.

“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip.

Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.

“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.

“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!”

He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.

“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.

“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.

The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.

“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense.

He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.

But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.

“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.

“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.

“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.

So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.

He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.

“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race.

“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”

The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.

“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss.

The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside.

“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently.

He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.

“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.

The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.

You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.

You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.

Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.

“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.

His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.

He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.

“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.

“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.

“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.

His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.

His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.

He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.

Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.

“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.

“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.

“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.

He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.

Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.

When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.

“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.

He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing.

“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body.

___

It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever.

A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.

A beneficial arrangement indeed.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor

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ivysoul · 3 months

Text

FIRESIDE. ✸ farmhand!rafe cameron au [1.1k]

summary. rafe cameron. everything you need and more.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ༘⋆❥ afab!reader, farmer’s daughter au!, reader calls her dad “daddy” but it’s obvs not sexual (it’s country. it’s a country thing it’s normal.), porn with minimal plot, ooc rafe (he’s just sweeter in this lmao), mutual pining, friends with benefits, except reader has such an awful crush on him, unprotected p in v, public sex (no one sees), against a barn oops, dirty talk, fingering, praise, creampie.

reign speaks. i have a rlly bad obsession on the farmer’s daughter aesthetic rn so pls just bare with me while i literally milk the ever living hell out of it. a lot of farmer’s daughter/country au’s in the drafts rn. rafe, leon, ghost, you name it. just let me cook y’all i swear something good will come of it i promise LMAO. sorry about any spelling errors i wrote this in two hours😭

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rafe cameron had an incredible way of making you feel both wanted and wholly confused all at once. he could be at your feet, begging you to follow him around whilst he did his farm work for your father, to keep him company and fill his ears with your voice of honey. he’d look at you as if you yourself had put the very moon and stars in the sky, as if you’d put them there just for him. hell, he even carved a small heart out of wood and attached it to some ribbon and gently wrapped it around your wrist.

he’d do all this just to continue calling you his friend.

his friend that he occasionally fucks dumb every week. the friend whose brain he turns to mush with his sweet words as he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt. the friend that he spends more time pleasuring than himself.

this time was no different. just another time when you snuck out of your bedroom window and into the warm night, illuminated by the soft hues of the moons glow. the note he had slipped into your hand earlier in the day had been discarded in a box under your bed.

(where you kept all of the notes he’d given you. shamefully, you must admit).

now, you find yourself being pressed against the side of your father’s old barn, towered over by rafe, mouths colliding in mutual desperate need. you pawed at his clothe covered chest, taking the fabric in your fist. his hand held the back of your neck while the other gripped at the skin on your hip, having pushed itself up and under your floral cotton nightgown. his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties but never dared to go further, not yet.

the feeling of rafe took over your senses. he rendered you unable to form any thoughts other than him. it was embarrassing—the effect he had on you.

he pulled away against his own wishes to catch some air. but the look in his eyes, the look, forbade you from breathing any air at all.

“i missed you today,” he confesses. his voice is like silk against skin. smooth and gentle. “where’d you go?”

you smiled at him. “ran some errands with daddy. needed t’ get a new rake since someone broke the other one.”

“i told you, it was an accident!”

the laugh that escapes him makes butterflies form in your belly.

“i know, ‘m just teasin’.” you run your hand through his hair. when he leans back in and kisses you deeply, gently nipping your bottom lip, you tug lightly at the roots of his hair. the groan he lets out sends shocks through you.

you felt anticipation build up higher and higher when rafe’s index and middle fingers grazed over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet patch and knowing how wet you were already. he applied slight pressure to your clit over your panties, making you whine desperately.

“rafe, please.”

he made a faux pouty expression, displaying fake confusion. “what? i’m just teasin’.”

he is not mocking you right now.

he let out a small laugh before dipping his hands into your panties and finally drawing small circles on your clit. you moaned a little too loud at the sudden feeling, making rafe clamp his free hand over your mouth.

he then pushes a finger, then two, into your sopping cunt, curling them slightly. your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. you were thankful he had your mouth covered, otherwise you would’ve woken up not only the animals on the farm, but also your parents inside the the house.

rafe wasn’t holding back, giving you exactly what you wanted and needed. “god, she’s so wet f’r me, baby. you been missin’ me? missed my words? my fingers? my cock?”

you nodded the best you could with his hand on your mouth. your abdomen constricting with every sharp jolt of pleasure he gave you. an all too familiar feeling was rising too fast for you to prepare for.

but just as quickly it came, it left when he retracted his hands entirely.

you wanted to plead, you would’ve if not for the mouth guard, but instead you attempted to grab at rafe’s hand once again. he just shook his head, shushing you softly and undoing his belt with one hand. christ, you could’ve cum right then.

“don’t worry, baby, i’m gonna take care of you.”

he pulls your panties down and they pool at your ankles. you only have time to step one foot out of them before he’s grabbing at your leg and pulling it against his waist, your panties hanging from your ankle.

rafe takes his hand off your mouth and instead wraps it around your neck and captures your lips with his. in one push, he filled you to the brim with his cock.

your jaw falls slack as moans upon moans escape you. there was nothing rafe could’ve done to muffle you now. with him hitting every spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you were done for.

the wood of the barn walls scraped against your bare shoulders, rafe’s hand sneaking up and under your nightgown to grope at your tits, pinching your nipples.

“rafe, rafe—fuck!—”

“watch your mouth, princess,” rafe warns. the nickname making your mind swirl. “i know it feels good, y’pussy’s just squeezin’ me. like it wont let me move.”

“‘m sorry! ‘m sorry!” you could barely think. his cock stretched you so much, providing the perfect combination of stinging pleasure.

once again, you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter the more rafe fucks his cock into you. you attempted to grasp at any part of him that you could get ahold of and the only word you could mumble out was his name, over and over, until you finally let go. your body spasmed, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. rafe fucked you through your orgasm before he came inside you, against his better judgment. his hips stuttered back and forth, grinding himself against you as much as he could until he had nothing left to give you.

he stilled as you two caught your breaths, until he eventually pulled out and fixed himself back up.

“lift your foot, baby.”

you lifted your foot as he said and he put it through your panties, lifting them up your legs and resting them back against your wet cunt. his cum pooled from you and into your panties, but you didn’t care. you’ll just wash them tomorrow.

#i know the ending is kinda weird #but i couldn’t figure out how to wrap it up #neither could they apparently #but hey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #outer banks smut

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bimbosandbubbles · 5 months

Text

Four Square

Starring Yandere Hisoka,Chrollo,and Illumi aka the adult trio x healer chubby reader

Warnings-manipulation,lying,coercion,hinted stalking,breaking and entering, Hisoka being Hisoka,ass slapping,foursome,dirty talking,breeding kink(no creampies tho), dry humping,pussyjob, thigh riding,fingering,praise, a dash of degradation, unhealthy behavior,obsession,possessive behavior,YANDERE,hairy pussy,hairy legs(Body hair is normal and I’m totally pushing the agenda with my fics),spitting,odd scent kink?,blow jobs,hand jobs,pussy eating,omg finally protected sex in one of my fics. Honestly not so many tbh(compared to my other fics)not really proofread! Sorry!

Wc-13.6k(ya’ll I got rid of 7k more words)

Taglist- @shaisuki @lilyalone @999-ang3l @queenmimis @agnl2000 @thewickedofrizz @kelly-fushiguro345

"Illumi,you will not wed to a woman that does not carry the same blood as us. She's nothing but a mere commoner." A high posh voice protests.

Black,empty eyes star deadly daggers at the person who spoke those words with such confidence. "I will not hesitate to cut off your tongue if you speak one more ill word about my soon to be wife,mother." The woman gasps,"Illumi! You don't speak to me in such a way!" A monotone voice counters,"I can and will. You mean nothing to me compared to her."

Just the mentioning of his sweet savior in the third person arouses cherished memories,memories that he's saved and replayed ever since he's left your care. He remembers your gentle caresses,the calm tone you spoke to him as you nursed his intense wounds. How you uttered his name with such affection the longer you took care of him.

He longs to see you again,longs to feel your touch,longs to hear your honeyed voice rant and ramble about your day to him. He misses oh so very much,his bride who's so far away from him now. He wonders what you're doing—he should call.

A ghost of a smile draws onto his face at the thought. Should he video call you or no? He wants to see your bright smile as you say his name so happily. He's pulled away from his thoughts by his father's deep voice. "If you really feel this way for such a low woman why didn't you just take her away?"

This question peaks Illumi's interest—why didn't he take you back home with him? His family would've grown to love and be fond of you quite easily. Was is because he thinks you'd be angered with him? He couldn't bare to feel you being cross with him—resenting him for stealing away your free will. No,he just needs you to treat him as you do,with such care and love that he'll never get enough of. But apart of him wishes he took you with him,wishes you were here now—lounging with him and touching him in the he way he's grown to love. And this causes Illumi confused,an emotion he often feels when it comes to you,not used to the foreign feelings you give him.

The confusion leaves Illumi without a answer to his fathers question. But that doesn't stop Illumi from replying,"That is besides the point,mother is fighting me on claiming what surely belongs to me. I deserve my (Reader),I deserve to have her as my wife and as the mother of the future Zoldyck bloodline." His parents are baffled by their quiet and normally unfeeling son who seems to be throwing a tantrum at the ripe age of 26. Silva's cool yet bright blue eyes stare into his son's black ones,thoughtfully thinking about a way to go about this.

Finally he sighs,"Take her then. Wed her and bed her. But know they're are others who want her just as badly as you do." Illumi squints his eyes at that—what others would possibly have the guts to take you from him,one of the most deadly assassins there is. "And those others will be killed by my hand mercilessly."He coldly states. Silva huffs with humor,"Not when you find out who those others are."

Illumi hands clench into fists,"How do you know such information and I don't?" It angered Illumi that his father dare know more about you than he does. Especially because Illumi keeps a watchful eye on you through others,hiring many spies to report to him about you whereabouts. So how does his father know this?

"You think my son being interested in a woman for the first time in his life isn't business to me? Me and your mother know much more than we lead on about your little healer woman." Illumi speaks with tight lips,"Who.is.it." Silva smiles,"She's your woman,find out yourself."

Illumi manifests a needle out of thin air,"You will tell me exactly what I want to know." Silva chuckles heartily,"Threatening me? Wow you must really love this common woman,huh? Tell me Illumi when was the last time we fought?" Illumi frowns deeply at his father's amusement—irked with his enjoyment of playing with his newfound emotions.

"Don't toy with me father. I'm no longer a little boy." He spits with venom. "That you are not,my son. I suppose I will give you a small hint since you are a smart man. Two men you've allied yourself with in the past want are the ones who wish to have her. "

Illumi looks as shocked as his face will allow him to be. It couldn't be who he thought it was....right?

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"Oh Hisoka,don't buy me that!" You demand. "Nonsense,my dove. You'll look so pretty for me in this little dress." You shiver due to the proximity of his plush lips to your skin. "So,you only want to buy me something cause you'll like it? And here I thought you were being nice to me 'Soka."

The male wraps his lanky arms around your wide waist,not forgetting to grip the pudge of your stomach through the material of your wool turtle neck. He bends down to your ear,whispering lowly—the tone so seductive you get chills going down your spine. "You know I'll always be nice to you...unless you don't want to me which I can gladly do as well."

You clear your throat, flustered by his actions,"I'll keep that in mind 'Soka." He hums,his sharp nails digging into the pliable flesh of your plentiful stomach. "So,my dove will you allow me to get you this dress or will you be stubborn with me?"

"You already know the answer." You say teasingly. "Your stubbornness is so cute—but you must know either way I always get what I want." Your brow raises,"And what do you want this time?" Hisoka leers at you with his cat like eyes,licking his lips before his answer,"I want you to stop denying me when I wish to spoil you. I owe you after all."

You laugh sarcastically,"You owe me? Last time I checked you saved me even if you didn't mean to." You recall the night so vividly as you mentioned. You were calmly walking in the night,just getting home from a long day and your tired body became slowly unaware to the world around you. You became so numb,so unaware in fact you didn't hear the running steps of someone behind you. Before you knew it a man covered in bruises and wounds head to toe had grabbed you,pushing you to shield him in some way.

Then you felt a cool blade pressed against the plushness of your neck. You remember fighting and struggling against the male's overpowering strength. He shouted across your shoulder,muttering about something along the lines of "I'll kill her if you take one step closer." In the midst of that though you finally meet the eyes of the bloodied clown.

Hisoka had easily disposed of the man,shaming him for putting someone as weak as you are in a fight you're useless in. After that you chased him down,begging him for a chance to thank him properly. He was disinterested in you from the start and it wasn't until you offered to heal his wounds that he even entertained you.

From then on Hisoka would pop up when he got injured and you'd loyally heal him as thanks for saving your life. Eventually the two of became actual friends? You don't know what you're relationship is with him due to how he does things such as this.

"Oh noooo my dove,I only killed that man because he was hurting your pretty little neck." You roll your eyes,"Okay then,what about after,huh? You said people like me were pathetic and wastes of space." Hisoka leans his head on your shoulder,his tall body looking deformed from how far he's bending,"Hush,I was only being so mean to you cause I didn't realize how useful these hands of yours are."

At his words you're reminded what type of man Hisoka really is. A man who sees only the strong and never the weak,a man who's full of intense bloodlust that simply gets turned on in promise of a good fight. So it makes you ponder why he hasn't gotten rid of you yet? Sure,you're a healer but there's many others who better at it. You're not even a healer who uses nen,only herbs and traditional medicine being practiced by you. And still you remain alive,untouched and unharmed by a killers hand.

It seems Hisoka has made you feel too important,too valuable to him,that you've grown to feel comfortable—safe from his bloodlust. "So I'm only alive because of my healing ability?" You try to conceal the hurt in your voice but Hisoka still picks up on it. Immediately he turns to comfort you,"Oh my dove—no,no, you mean so much more to me than that. I just worded it wrongly."

"Yeah,right. So how long do I have until my hands have no use for you Hisoka?? I can't believe for a second I thought—" Your rant is cut off when a pale hand loosely wraps around your throat. The grip is painless,barely noticeable honestly but it's the fact you know that Hisoka could easily kill you with just a tightening of his grip. "Hush,do you think so low of me as to murder you? How dare you. Honestly,you need to give me some credit." He practically purrs out.

"I care for you my dear (Reader), a concerning amount might I add. So when I say something"—he leans down closer to your face,his lips gently kissing the chubby skin of your cheeks,"I mean it. Do not ever accuse me of just simply using you again,you understand,my dove?"

But Hisoka is using you in a sense,just not that one you were implying. He's not using you for the learned skill you possess—no no,it's much more. You've given something to Hisoka that rivals even his bloodlust,you've laid bare to him the feeling of obsession. A feeling that drives him deliriously mad in sick pleasure—like a drug he can never get enough of. He doesn't know what it is but only you can give him such a feeling. A feeling that leads to him feeling...in love with you.

"I understand Hisoka." You nervously say. He lets go of his grip on you,patting your cheek gently in approval as he does so. "Good,my smart girl knows just what to say. Anyways,shall we get this dress for you?" He phrases it like a question but you know Hisoka will buy it anyway. "Let's buy it." You mutter with an uneasy smile,still not recovered from feeling Hisoka's hand on your throat.

"Right answer again! You're on a roll aren't you,my dove?" Hisoka praises you excitedly. "Yeah—" you're once more interrupted by the crude ringing of a cell phone. You dig in your pocket and see just who's calling you. On the screen it reads no caller id and you know exactly who it is.

"Oops,sorry Soka I gotta answer this." You wiggle your way out of his hold. This leaves Hisoka pouty,"Can't it wait? I wanted to buy food for you after this too." You chuckle,"No it can't,it only take a few minutes. And I'll be right outside." Hisoka rolls his eyes,"Alright but stay right there."

You nod and rush out the doors of the store. As soon as you feel the cool winter air on your skin your thumb presses the accept button. "You took a little long,didn't you?" The smooth voice says. "Oh give me a break, I was doing something." You playfully bite back. "Yeah,like what little spider? Were you watching those silly movies again and almost missed my call?" His tone seems playful but what lies beneath it is an annoyed man. But no,he can show his spider how upset he gets when you don't answer right away—no no such a gentle thing like you doesn't deserve to see him like that.

"Noo,for your information Chrollo, I'm actually Christmas shopping right now. I even got you a little something but I'm not sure if I should give it to you if you're gonna tease me." Chrollo chuckles,"Mmm,well I guess I have to stop for a little then. Who are you with by the way?" Your brow raises at that,"Umm what makes you think I'm with someone?"

"Don't consider me a fool (Reader), I just have a hunch." You roll your eyes at Chrollo's need to always seem mysterious in front of you. "Alright, I am with someone." You admit. "Who?" He asks,more like demands. "A friend. And does it really matter anyways?" Chrollo wishes to tell you that yes,it does really matter. Because every waking second that you don't spend with him drives him crazy. Not a single person deserves to be close to you the way he is. He wants to say all that but he settles for,"Yes because I want to see you tonight. I don't another person to hinder our time together."

"Oh no are you hurt again?" Chrollo chuckles at how concerned you sound,finding it cute. "Must I be hurt to see you,little spider?" You hum,"Mmm,yes cause those are the only times you visit me. Ya know it's not nice to do that—coming to me when you're all battered and then leaving so soon,it's so mean Chrollo cause I'm left worrying and missing you for how long God knows." Chrollo's heart beats at that,you miss him just like he does you. But there's also ache at the fact his little spider is left worried about him,that you're hurting cause of him.

But you have to understand he can only speak to you sometimes—if he did it too much you'd be hunted. And until Chrollo has you his he can't allow that. But at his core Chrollo is a truly selfish being and his selfishness is starting to show more and more. He's been indulging more frequently in his needs to see you,to smell you,to touch your velvety skin—like now.

"I'm sorry (Reader),but I'm a dangerous man I can't show up whenever I want. It's so you don't get hurt." He says. "Yeah,yeah I get that. But it still leaves me worried ya know? Anywaysss can we meet up a different day?" Chrollo sighs,"It's too late. I'm already in your house."

You nearly drop your phone in shock,"YOURE WHAT? YOU CANT JUST BREAK IN MY HOUSE!!" Chrollo hushes you,"Sshhh my spider, I just wanted to see you so bad and I knew if I waited any longer I would go mad." His soft voice eases you from your anger a little,"I get that I guess,but it's so not okay to break in my house Chrollo!" Chrollo makes small comforting noises through the phone,"I know,I know but don't be mad at me,little spider. I only longed to see you and I will confess that has caused me to act...a bit rash."

This damn sweet talker. You had to admit you had a soft spot for him since the night you met him and that paired with his soothing words were a weapon against you. "Alright,I'll be there in a hour. Don't rush me either." You say,caving into him. "Mmm,you listen so well (Reader). Always so good to me. I'll see you,okay?"

"Okay. See ya,Chrollo." With that Chrollo hangs up and you sigh,the cool air making your breath look like fog. You turn back around and open the door only to feel the hard abdomen of someone. "So,Chrollo,huh?" The purring voice taunts.

"Hisoka! What're you doing out here?" He hums,"Well you were taking a little long for a quick phone call and wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." That was a lie Hisoka was listening from the very beginning you went outside and only now has he made himself known.

"Oh well it's not nice to easedrop,you silly clown!" You embarrassingly scold. "I wasn't easedropping,I just heard you say his name right before you hung up." He lies. His lengthy fingers reach down to grab your chin,"I was checking up on you,my dove. It's late and a cute thing like you shouldn't be outside at night for too long." His index finger and his thumb caress your chin gently,softening your suspicion of him.

Your left without a reply to that,simply settling to hum in acknowledgment. "I'm assuming you have business with him then,so that means we're not getting food?" Hisoka asks. You look at Hisoka and then remember how excited he was to take you out and for the most part you had a lot of fun minus the almost choking incident. You smile at him,"No,let's get some food 'Soka." You did say to Chrollo that you'd be an hour...so it's not a big deal,right?

Hisoka smiles brightly,"Good,I'm starving." The two of you venture off to a small burger place that you recommended to go to. Your orders come quickly and you scold Hisoka for simply getting a strawberry milkshake while you have a whole combo meal. "Hisoka you said were starving and you order a strawberry milkshake...."'

"I said I was hungry,not for what." With that his large hand makes a move to grip your plush thigh licking his full lips as he does so. "Don't make me regret sitting next to you 'Soka." You say warily. "I don't think you'd dislike what'd I'd do to you (Reader). " He purrs. "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" You say challengingly. He leans close to your ear,preparing to whisper,"You know I could easily unbutton those little jeans you got on and put my hand on that pussy. You wouldn't fight me either,huh? You'd probably like being fingered in public,right? You dirty girl,of course you would. "

Hot heat rushes in your veins,shocked by the filthy words of your companion. " 'Soka!" You whisper shout in embarrassment. "Hmm?~" He replies,lips now trailing the shell of your ear. "S-Shut up and drink your shake." You command. Hisoka pulls away,chuckling,"You're such a innocent little thing,aren't you?"

"Hush and drink." You say. Hisoka surrenders and does as you say. It's silent and that allows you to think for a little bit. Your brain and body finally catch up to how Hisoka's words made you feel. As he uttered each filthy syllable you couldn't deny how your thighs slightly clenched close,how your breath hitched in hesitant arousal.. It made you feel perverted for feeling such a way because Hisoka didn't mean what he was saying,right? He's overtly sexual all the time so why'd it feel so...intimate? It's as if he really meant it.

"My dove,you're hardly touching your food. Here let me fix that." Hisoka brings a slight cold fry to your lips. "Say ahhh.." He says playfully. " 'Soka 'm not a baby..." You announce begrudgingly. You say that but your lips still part open for the fry and then you do the same for another and another and another. It goes on so long that Hisoka just starts causally hand feeding you in public. "Do you want a bite of your burger,my dove?" You nod and he easily complies,holding the burger to your mouth as you take a good size bite.

You chew and chew,missing the way Hisoka observes you. His yellows eyes light up in pure enjoyment as you let him do as he pleases to you. He revels in the way you barely even resisted him feeding you finding it so cute how you just gave into. He enjoys how much you've grown to trust him even from the beginning—following him around like a little kicked puppy,desperate to thank it's savior. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him—how he softens up around you,how he constantly spends money on you despite his motto of saving money,how he can't keep his hands off your supple body.

Not to mention how he feels when he imagines someone else treating you in such a way it makes him disgusted. How lowly of said imaginary person to believe they could actually make you happy? No,no, only Hisoka can. Only he can get you to smile that one specific way,to get you to laugh until you feel like you have to pee.

"Can I have another bite?" You ask expectantly at the man. "Yes buttt you have to say the magic word." Hisoka teases. "Please 'Soka." You plead. Hisoka gets chills running down his back,the kind he gets in a really good fight but instead of blood,he craves you. You asked so very sweet that he can't help but imagine if that's how'd you ask for his cock—soft and kind with a begging glare in your eyes.

"Of course my dove,anything you want." You smile at him as you take another bite. Hisoka continues to feed you bite of the burger or transitioning to the even cut fries. Occasionally his poised fingers stop feeding you to clean off crumbs or sauce that lands on your cheeks,always licking his fingers once he wipes it off.

Finally you take your last bite,eating in grateful content. "Was that good?" Hisoka asks pleasantly. "Mhm,it was." Despite how good you said it was you sound bothered...bothered by the fact that you let Hisoka feed you,without a fight. Was it a haze of blinded trust or perhaps something else? You try not to think of it too much,deciding to change the topic.

" 'Soka I just remembered about the shopping bags. What happened to them?" Hisoka waves you off good naturally,"I stuck them in my car,no need to worry your pretty little head about it." You smile happily,a wave of alleviation crashing against you. "Good,we should get going then!"

Hisoka obliges,his tall frame standing up right and a well toned arm slinks itself around the plushness of your middle. "Let's go." He walks you over to the door and you stop abruptly to bid a goodnight to the kind employees of the establishment.

The two of you saunter off into the night,the obnoxious neon lights of the restaurant being nothing but a mere trail. Hisoka's arm tightens around your waist,pulling you even closer toward him. You can feel the heat radiate off of him,easing the cold biting air just a bit. You lean into his touch,sighing contently. An action Hisoka notices with excitement—a fox grin curling at his lips.

"You know (Reader),how I've always said that you never owe me when I buy you something?" He says. "Yes...why are you bringing this up?" You attempt to keep your tone steady but all you can think is "Oh my god,he's finally done with me! I have no use to him anymore! He's going to kill me!" Hisoka stops walking therefore stopping you as well and at that moment you could feel yourself swallow rocks. He leans down,leering down at you menacingly—his playful grin gone and replaced with a straight expression.

"I'd like to kiss you. I promise it'll be worth your while." As soon as he mutters those words his mischievous mask paints back on. "Kiss me?" You say breathlessly,deeply confused as to why the killer clown would want to do that. "Yes,I don't usually like to repeat myself either,(Reader).You might push me too far.~" Your eyes look at his,searching for some playful game or plot in them. There's nothing but pure excitement though,the kind of excitement you've seen his eyes light up with when he's recalling a gruesome fight to you when you patch him up. He's sincere.

Without hesitation because you know anymore thought would muddle your confused brain even more—your lips open to form the first syllable of yes but are interrupted by Hisoka's mouth. He takes advantage of your already open mouth and sticks his large tongue in ,the pink muscle doing something oddly pleasurable inside. You can't help but whimper quietly as he uses your mouth so passionately. Your dull nails dig into Hisoka's forearms,causing a lewd moan to fall out of the man's mouth.

The clown takes advantage of his arm already wrapped around your waist—a skilled hand gripping the love handles with a teasing force that makes your knees weak. He pulls you closer to his own body—relishing in the fact that you're so close to him,loving the heat your soft body exudes. He finally pulls away staring down at you—lust glazing over his bright yellow eyes.

It's silent between the two of you and you expect Hisoka to say the first word but instead he pulls you into him,enveloping you into his hard chest. " 'S-Soka?" Your voice unintentionally shakes,the shock from the kiss still overriding your brain. "You taste so good,you little minx. I'd take you right here on this sidewalk if you weren't so pure. It's okay though,I'll wait and mold you into the perfect cocksleeve. My sweet good girl who'll take my cock so well...I just know you have the prettiest pussy. So so pretty,just like your face."

Hot red heat flushes throughout your blood system—the cold weather no longer being a bother. Was he ranting? Could he not control the filthy words flowing out of his mouth? This reminds who about how he rants and rambles when he's facing a strong opponent,yet all you've done to get him so riled up is kiss him. Your mind muddles itself to a all too thoughtful puddle—too shocked to even understand what's going on.

You thought you and Hisoka were friends,a friend to him that he'd flirt with and touch constantly—but that's just Hisoka,right? Hisoka who comes to your small home in the middle of the night,injured yet excited. Hisoka who's now patched up,that convinces you to let him stay in your bed with you. Hisoka that sometimes cuddles with you for a few hours before he disappears for another months time. Hisoka who'll call you or leave playing cards around for you to know he's still alive and well. You may not be the smartest cookie in the batch but you know Hisoka hasn't and probably never do that for anyone else. His selfish nature being a unforgettable attribute he possesses.

Hisoka who's pressed tautly against you—his hard bulge grazing against your squishy belly. You're breathless and left wordless—your body being the only thing left to communicate with. You feel hot,so hot that you can feel how burning your hands are against Hisoka's muscular forearms. He stares down at you,his predator like eyes practically eating up your reaction of his action. He could see your body turn rigid yet you're still frame is like puddy in his experienced hands. You liked it,he knows you did. Otherwise you'd be resisting him—telling him you don't want him to touch you in such a way—to not spew such dirty things at you.

This makes Hisoka wonder how far can he go? Can he go as far putting his hand down your pants? Would you allow him to curl his extremities up into your warm hole as the two of you stand onto the calm sidewalk? Would you let him kiss the nape of your neck while he's hushing you to be mindful of people as you moan crazily on his fingers? Would you let him hump your plump jean clad ass as he gets you off on his hand?

Hisoka doesn't get to find out anything though because you've seem to finally be able to speak a sentence. "I-I have to go home 'Soka." The killer clown knows why you're saying that,knows who's waiting patiently for your promised arrival. He feels a sense of jealousy, a feeling he's never really bothered to feel before and that irks him to his core. Why? Because you were leaving him for Chrollo. He wonders if he should go with you and already begin the fight he's long been craving with the leader of the troupe. He can just see the vision of him basking in the blood of his own body and his dead's opponent,he'd beckon you over and seduce you gently,coaxing you into letting him fuck you in the pool of blood. Chrollo's dead body ominously watching as he ruts and thrusts into your body.

The fantasy alone makes Hisoka's hardened dick throb in his loosely fitted pants. But he pushes away his own lusts,smiling as he pulls away from your body. "Okay then let's go." He says cooly. You look at him with puzzlement though you drop the expression—after all you're on a time limit. He uses his arm that's connected to your waist to start the monument he stopped only a few minutes ago.

The walk to the car is quiet and awkward mostly for you. You can't shake off how that kiss made you feel...it makes you want to ask what you truly are to Hisoka. You know he does not see you as an equal—a fair opponent he wishes to fight to the death with. So like your thoughts earlier you're lead to believe you give Hisoka something he cannot go without—at least for now,til one dreaded day he's tired of you. You like to think though that you mean more to him than you really know—a comforting thought to have instead of impending death.

You wonder if Hisoka just sees you as something he wants to fuck. No—if he did than from the beginning he wouldn't have been so aloof to you. Why'd he have to be so confusing? You curse the man you've grown to weirdly cherish.

Hisoka opens the car door for you and you settle in,buckling your seat belt and fixing your clothes slightly. Before you know it he smoothly starts driving ,taking you home—the home Chrollo is patiently(impatiently) waiting for you at.

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Charcoal black eyes peer from the window of a cozy home. They watch as a obnoxiously bright car pulls up into the little drive through. Two people get out of the car,a shorter one and a much taller figure. The eyes recognize the shorter one as you—looking soft and pliable as you usually do. A bright smile plastered on your face as you hug the taller figure.

But the soft gaze the eyes held when they were staring at you is gone once they figure out just who exactly you're hugging. Chrollo wonders how this damn clown knows you—is this a ploy to get him to fight him faster? To use something he holds so incredibly dear against him? He wouldn't put it beneath Hisoka to do,nor himself though. He knows he's not all that much better compared to him.

But this is simply impossible,no one knows about you. No one even knows a shred of Chrollo's feelings for you...so maybe,just maybe this clown knows you for different reasons. Chrollo tells himself Hisoka doesn't even know your connection with him.

The man becomes so lost in thought he doesn't notice you've already made your way inside,bags in hands. His head snaps as he takes you in up close—walking over to you and reaching for the bags. "Woah,now I know I said I had a gift for you but you can't just take my bags Chrollo." You joke. Chrollo scoffs,amused,"My apologies,I must've gotten too excited."

"I guess I can let it slide since your visits are always a special occasion." You say with a bright smile,similar to the one you showed Hisoka. This irks Chrollo slightly but he just smiles back,happy to be in your warm presence once more. Chrollo sets the bags onto the table in your kitchen,knowing exactly what you're about to do.

He predicts you correctly because he feels your pillow like arms wrap around his shirtless middle. He could feel the affection you radiate for him—feeling it soak and burn itself into his body. It's the feeling of authenticity—real,not fake like Chrollo's learned emotions. That's why he liked being with you so much,you invoke a mystery feeling for him—a feeling he must learn to keep and nurture.

Your chubby face leans against the furriness of his warm jacket—the burning feeling of your cheek resting on his back. "I missed you." You croak out weakly. Were you crying for his long awaited absence? Chrollo smiles,wiggling his fingers to intertwine with yours that are securely wrapped around his torso. "I know you have my needy little spider. Tell me what you've been up to during my absence?"

Chrollo knew what you have been up to,always. But he wanted to see if you'd divulge in instances like Hisoka,an instance he had no clue about til now. How'd that slip past him? Would his little spider lie to him? He can't wait to see. He turns to face you,finding that yes,you were crying. Your eyelashes are wet and slightly more clumped together and your expression is frumpy—a small frown gently tugging at your lips. Chrollo hates and loves you're crying over him. He hates that you're sad and not crying because he's fucked you to the deepest edge of pleasure,those being the only tears you should be shedding with him. And he loves it because you're feeding into him so well,you're so receptive and even more affectionate than Chrollo himself. Perfect.

This is all going in fruition,all according to Chrollo's well thought out scheme. From your first ever encounter Chrollo found you intriguing and by the second one he knew he wanted you as strictly his. So the leader knows how gentle he has to be with you,knows he needs to slowly lead you into his obsessive hold. But tonight changed everything,Hisoka was involved with you. And that meant one thing to Chrollo—competition.

Chrollo doesn't know why the clown is interested in you but he knows for a fact that he's hanging around you for a specific reason. He's obsessed with something about you or worse obsessed with you as a whole. With Hisoka in the way,Chrollo can't smoothly lead you into his web and trap you. No,instead he has to deal with another greedy predator before he can get you.

"I'm too tired to talk about all that 'Ollo." You mutter. He knows he can't push you too far so he drops it for now. "Mmm,I knew you looked a little tired. Do you want to rest on me?" He offers gently. He sees you nod so he elegantly grips your hand pulling you with him as he sits down on one of your dining chairs.

"Chrollo I didn't think you meant on your lap!" You spew in a flustered manner. You wiggle in his grasp only making him wrap two strong arms around your fleshy middle. "Don't fight me,you'll never win. Just sit here with me." He says soothingly. You peer back at him—your body getting hotter as you get to see his handsome face in person once more. You note his cross tattoo on his forehead that sits in harmony with the rest of his handsome face,the nice slicked back comb over that shows off his pale and clear features. But nothing compares to the few times you seen Chrollo with his hair in his face—the style framing his facial structure in such a flattering way.

"Chrollo can I....?" There's a pause,the rest of the vowels and syllables unsure if they should continue. "Hmm?" He asks. "Can I play with your hair?" It comes out shy,too shy and it causes the man you're sitting on to burst out in laughter. "Whattt?" You whine. "Nothing,it's just how hesitant you were. It's cute,don't worry about it. But to answer,yes,you may."

He likes how you grin up at him for the agreement of your affection. But he finds it silly that you don't know how much he craves your touch. It's gentle and kind,much like you. Do you not notice how he always slightly hums when you rub him or even fiddle with his fingers? Do you not notice how he shuts his eyes contentment? It's amazing that you don't know what effect you have on him.

Your chubby hand reaches up and starts playing with the strands,occasionally going up further to calmingly rub at his scalp. It's silent,like it often is when you have Chrollo as company. You guys do talk but most of the time that is spent with Chrollo is tranquil—void of anything but quietness.

"Chrollo?" You call out again. "Hmm?" His eyes are shut,enjoying the treatment of having his hair played with. You don't know what compels you to ask this but after the events with Hisoka touching you in such a intimate way...you really can't help it. "How do you feel about me?"

The air is thick,coated with tension that the sharpest knife couldn't even cut. It feels like hours before he answers and honestly you felt like crying just out of the pure embarrassment you felt. Chrollo's grip on your middle runs down to your abundant hips—gripping possessively at them. "I feel happy around you...genuinely happy, in a way I haven't felt since I was a little kid in Meteor City. I feel real around you, like I don't have to reel you in with any charm or tricks because you simply like me. I like that simplicity of that,how you actually like me and I can't help but keep coming back for more of you. The way I feel about you (Reader)..." he grips even tighter on your pliant hips,"is something I never felt before."

Chrollo barely scrapped the tip of the iceberg of how he feels about you. He wouldn't dare tell you that he's deeply obsessed with your existence. Wouldn't even dare speak of the grotesque acts he's ordered down on others for the sake of the relationship he wants to build with you. That would ruin his slow conditioning he's enforced since day one.

"C-Chrollo I don't know what to say..." you slump in his lap,staring back at him in uncertainty. His warm lips lean down to grace the little exposed skin of your neck,"Then don't think..just feel how I want to you to feel for the rest of your time with me." Your brows crinkle at that,what could that possibly mean? But then you feel it...the feeling of Chrollo's talented hands explore the expanse of your body.

It feels like whiplash having this happen twice,especially so close in time. It almost makes you feel dirty—ashamed for allowing not one but two men to touch you in such a way. The only thing stopping you from pulling you away from Chrollo is how good his hands felt on your clothed body.

They wander,touching your covered chest—squeezing the fatty flesh in a vice grip. "You're...so soft." Chrollo murmurs,almost in a trance. "Mmf t-thank you!" You hurriedly spit out. His hand goes to your tummy—his slippery fingers creep underneath your thick turtleneck,the cool contact of his skin making you gasp lewdly. "You sound so good too." He hums.

Underneath you,you couldn't ignore the hard bulge pressing against your ass. You could feel the imprint of it,even the bent shaft that's partly stuffed into the side of his pocket. It's big—really big,at least it feels like it. Hands that lay beneath your shirt—touching and caressing the rolls that adorn the sides of your torso—the fingertips touch you so gently causing the illusion of soft kisses riddling your tummy. "You're such a sweet thing, everything about you is malleable,so moldable. You're perfect,so perfect." Chrollo whispers in your ear,the tone full of affection and lust.

"Don't say that...'M not perfect." You deny. "No but you are to me. You're everything I could ever want." He kisses your ear,a loving action. Ironic for a thief to say—to admit he's fulfilled with you yet he and his troupe still take from the weak. "I want to do something,is that okay with you,my spider?" You look up at him,glazing trust in your eyes that makes Chrollo melt. "Okay." You say breathlessly.

"Turn to face me,I want you to sit on one of my thighs,okay?" You look at him curiously but you still find your legs straddling his thigh. "Good,good." He places his hands back on your hips,the warmth making you feel even hotter than you initially were. "I want you to move now. You can do that right,(Reader)?"

"M-Move?" You repeat. Chrollo could see the worry paint your pretty features—he wants to laugh but he holds it in. "Don't think,my darling. Just do as I say. You'll feel good,I promise." His honeyed voice oozes dominance despite the leveled tone he speaks with. "Move." He says.

It's like there's some type of drug in his voice—something that compels you to follow his orders. You start moving very slowly on his thigh,barely feeling any friction. But the small moments you do your posture shoots up straight like an arrow and small pleasures gasps tumble off your tongue.

Chrollo watches you as he normally does—drinking in your reaction. This was rash—Chrollo wasn't planning to introduce something so sexual to you yet,he was going to wait to establish his feelings for you and organically build what he wanted with you—slowly grooming you for his obsessive and possessive ways to the point you wouldn't question him. But something in him snapped,perhaps it was the questioning of how he felt or the realization of Hisoka's unexpected company.

Chrollo's possessive and he supposes he wants leave a mark on you. He figures you hadn't let Hisoka get away with something this far and he'd be the first and only. "Take off your pants for me." You look up at him,anxiety coating your glazed pupils,"C-Chrollo no one's ever seen me like that before ..." His expression softens,the lust in his eyes practically fading away.

Perfect! Perfect! No one has touched or seen you in such a way,this was amazing news for the man vexed with you. He could have you fully to himself if he played his cards right—he has the urge to be greedy right now and completely strip you away from your virginity. But he decides against it,his little spider would take baby steps to him just like he planned. Plus he's already pushing the limits by initiating something so sexual.

"Oh my love,no need to be shy with me. I love how you look regardless,just trying to make you feel good,that's all. But I can't do that if you keep your pants and panties on." His tone is babying,talking down to you like a learning a child. "Would you please take them off for me, hmm?" He makes it sound like a suggestion but you get the feeling it's not—just a gentler method of getting what he wants from you.

You slide off his thigh,standing upright and leisurely unbuttoning your pants. It's slow,shy and accidentally seductive to the man before you. You could feel his eyes burn into you,making you even more insecure than you'd like to be. Chrollo usually makes you feel safe despite his dangerous status,yet something's different within him now. This is the first time you've ever felt smaller to Chrollo—powerless and forced to a meek little thing that obeys him. Chrollo feels carnal—lacking his gentleness he usually exudes,reduced to nothing more than a predator succumbing to his hunger.

Your pants pool to your ankles and you're regretfully reminded of the poor choice of underwear for this moment. They're dingy and old,comfort panties—not a really hot guy wants me to get half naked for him panties. It embarrasses you to no end so you find yourself quickly pulling them down—a stark contrast to the pace of your pants. But once you pull them down you feel another embarrassment,a more permanent one.

Hair litters your mound,blocking any view of the inner beauty that's in between the fat lips. At this point you wouldn't even like to indulge in anything with the man you find so attractive. Your hands go to cover your private area,ashamed of the hair that basically hides your pussy. "Don't—Don't hide for me. I want to see everything." He says.

"But I haven't shaved or anything and it doesn't even look good and and—" You're cut off—two strong arms wrap around your wrist to pull you in and once your are you're met with a hot kiss that quickly gets broken. "Nonsense,it's just as pretty as it would be bare. Don't shame what I want to call mine—saying it doesn't look good is an insult to me. Especially cause I'm so hard for you—look," he pauses to pull your hand to his throbbing length,"you feel that,that's for you,my shy girl." Your finger's carefully trace the shape,causing the man to wince a little in unreleased pleasure.

"As much as I'd like to feel you touch me...this isn't about me. Get on the edge of the table and spread your legs for me." You obey,awaiting the man's actions with opened legs. He hums appreciatively,eyeing the wet slit he gets to see now—he eats up how the the moisture slightly sticks to the pubes,finding it incredibly erotic knowing he made you that wet. His hands slide you even more forward to the point you'll fall front ways if he wasn't nestled in between your thighs.

He places his thigh to the height of your cunt,pulling you closer by your ass cheeks. You gasp as his fingers dig into the self made holes of cellulite that riddle your ass. Another gasp falls from you as he now fully sits you on his thigh. You wonder if it'll give out soon due to your not so light weight but you don't voice this,knowing Chrollo would wave the notion away.

"Now you can move." Chrollo states. It's a few seconds before you think to move but Chrollo gives a warning slap on your ass to obey him. Your shaking hands grip onto his muscular shoulders—your pelvis making an effort to move back and forth onto the expanse of his thigh.

Small mewls and whimpers of pleasure tumble out your o shaped lips. But that's not good enough for Chrollo—no he needs to hear you moan for him. He abuses his grip on your ass by forcing you to move faster—harder onto his leg. "Just like that...just like that. You're doing so good...I could feel your slick go through my pants,so cute how wet you are for me."

He leans into you,kissing your face affectionately in a loving manner instead of a lustful one. His lips set sights on the little skin of your neck that's exposed from the turtle neck and they latch on—sucking and biting his claim onto you. He pulls away to look at his work,admiring how the mark is a slight darker complexion compared to your skin color. His eyes watch at your expression—engrossed in your ajar mouth that moans for him and your shut eyes that are closed so tight the skin around your eyes wrinkle.

He feels his cock throb at the sight—the sight of your hips stuttering occasionally against him,the sight of your hairy pussy spread apart by his thigh—it's not only the view that leaves him throbbing it's feeling of your oozing wetness seeping into his pants,coating his pale skin underneath.

"Chrollo!" You whine,the grip of his shoulders tightening immediately. "You're gonna cum soon,aren't you?" You furiously nod. His hands once again move you faster against him,his grip onto your ass being unbreakable. "That's right...cum for me,yes that's a good girl. So good,so good!"

He feels your hurried breaths against him,the desperate whines that flee your parted lips—dull fingers dig into the warmth of his usual coat. You begin to feel like a weak tree flailing in the wind,loosing control of your own stimulated body. Your ministrations come to an halt,leaving Chrollo confused,he hasn't felt you cum so why'd you stop? "Why'd you stop?" The way he says it is calm yet you could hear the annoyance slightly oozing out. "Just need a break,'m not used to feeling so much." You reason breathlessly.

"Did I tell you to stop?" He asks. "No but—" He silences you with a sentence,"No,that's right. I didn't so that means don't stop." He slaps your ass roughly—a consequence,no a reminder he's the one who's in control. "I'm sorry Chrollo, I didn't mean it like that!" The man hushes you,rubbing your head gently,"I know,I know,you're not used to something like this but you just need obedient which I know such a smart girl like you can be. But instead of one orgasm,you're gonna have to give me as many as I would like,okay?"

You nod warily,not wanting to disappoint Chrollo once more. "Good girl. Now,start again." The minute you pick up momentum it's a never ending attack of orgasms against your cunt. You begin to lose hold of your conscious,only becoming a slobbering mess on top of Chrollo.

Babbles upon babbles escape you to the point you don't care what you say. You have no room to think—no room to even breath,the sex filled air snuffing your senses. And throughout each earth shattering orgasm Chrollo's there to talk you through it. Soft hymns of praises direct your eardrums to keep moving,to keep grinding your cunt on his thigh.

But you can't take it anymore,your abdomen aches from thrusting so hard,your heart is beating so rapidly,and not to mention the dull feeling that throbs uncomfortably between your dripping thighs. You slump forward into the shirtless man, unable to even hold your body up anymore,your back is met with Chrollo rubbing soft circles on it,kissing the side of your temple as he does so.

"Good,that's enough now. Let's take you to bed." You huff against him tiredly,furthering your position to lean on him more. He easily lifts you up,grabbing the underside of your thighs with his hand to keep your body snug against him. He walks you over to your bedroom,gently setting you down onto the fluffy mattress once he arrives.

He walks around your room,somehow knowing just which drawer you keep your panties in and he grabs a comfortable pair that he cautiously slides up your meaty legs. "Don't leave mee 'Ollo. Please,won't get to see you again." You sleepily call out. Chrollo smiles amusedly,"I won't leave. Don't worry. I'll take care of your while you sleep." He reassures,although it's a lie.

He would be leaving as soon as you shut your eyes but not because he wants to. Because has to. He knows you'll be upset about it in the morning,hurt and conflicted by his disappearance. You wouldn't have to suffer that any longer though,soon you'd always be by his side. He 'd have you in his web,soon,maybe sooner considering the complication of Hisoka.

He watches you collapse into slumber,leering over you like a overbearing shadow. His apparent bulge standing even more upright,he now wishes he had let your warm supple hand wrap around his cock while you pleasured yourself. He sighs,annoyed with himself. He supposes he could use your still moist cum and slick as lube when he gets back to his "home." That would be fine,his imagination could the rest of work just alright.

He gives you one last loving look before bending down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. With that Chrollo leaves you in the night,resting,knowing you'd be searching for him in the morning.

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It's been two whole weeks since you've seen both Chrollo and Hisoka. You've called and texted Hisoka,only to be met with voicemails and unread texts. You would've done the same with Chrollo but it would've been futile because the man always has new numbers due to his chosen profession.

Your heart burns and your brain won't stop scolding yourself for being so easy. You've gone all your life being untouched in such a way yet these two man in the same night made it seem like easy work. Maybe you were too trusting...putting too much faith in evil men. You wonder what you've done wrong...were you feeding in too much? Or were you too shy?

Tears sting your vision,blinding you as you attempt to stay attentive to the cheesy romcom you've put on for some comfort. You want to slap yourself and get a grip but you can't. Your booming heart hurts,the feeling of being used aches so deeply it's unforgettable. You begin to tell yourself that's all they possibly wanted from you anyway,you were just something entertaining,not anything of value.

Your mind goes back to the moments you've shared with them both,happy and memorable times that help aid the heaviness you feel weigh at you. What if you fought back their advances? What if you said you wanted to keep things strictly platonic despite the strong attraction to them both? What if? What if? What if? What if? Dozens of scenarios flash through your mind of what could be now if you just said no...

Your wallowing session is cut short though due to a sharp knock on the front door. You arise from your couch for the first time in hours and waddle over to the door. And once you open it you wish you weren't dressed like a hobo right now. The saggy oversized shirt and underwear combo not being a good look in front of the handsome man on the doorstep.

"Illumi!" You shout embarrassingly. You try to seem put together but you know it's useless. Your eyes are dark and baggy,your usual warm looking face is cold and sad. And that's without including the tear stains on your pudgy cheeks. You want to run and hide from Illumi's watchful gaze but you wouldn't even be able to run from him.

You can't help the urge to scrunch into yourself,to disappear into a hole and be swallowed completely for the shame that runs hot in your system. "Who made you cry?" He asks darkly. "Oh n-no one Lumi. I'm just real emotional lately because of hormones.."

The lie doesn't seem to work because Illumi because he only asks again only more irritated. Normally you wouldn't dare to tell Illumi about someone that hurt,knowing the man would murder the person who upset you. But you're so vulnerable,so hurt,so sensitive and needy for any sense of comfort. That neediness leads you crashing into the leanly muscled chest of Illumi as you sob and tell him what transpired two weeks prior,regrettably leaving out no details.

Needless to say the man who came over here to ask(demand) for your hand in marriage is furious. Of course,they got to you first. Of course,they already exposed you to the carnal urges that Illumi's been barely able to hold back in your presence. The pale man attempts to not take his anger out on you but he can't help it. The loose grasp he held on you,now tightening uncomfortably so. You attempt to pull away from him but his strength keeps you towards his chest.

"Lumi,you're hurting me!!" You don't sound upset,only panicked. You know the man isn't used to his strength,similar to a baby who just learned to walk. That snaps him out of it and he loosens his hold,blinking coyly as does so. "Apologies." He says. "It's okay just be gentle with me,I'm not like you. I can't take such force casually."

He nods thoughtfully,staring down at you with his empty doll like eyes. "Umm would you like to come inside? I'll make us some tea and then I'll even play with your hair too if you'd likeee." You say singsong. You didn't have to bribe Illumi with playing with his hair he would've came inside regardless—finding you and your home comforting. That's not even putting in account how much Illumi missed you.

"Okay." He agrees plainly. "Good!" You say happily,pulling him in. The pair of you walk into your home,Illumi shutting and locking the door behind him. "Sorry for the mess...I've been a little sad since you know..." It angers Illumi that you missed them so much,that they made you hurt,that they had your attention. And what about him? Had you forgotten him since you weren't nursing him back to health anymore?

Illumi couldn't have you caring more about anyone besides him. Jealousy floods through his veins,that's he's far too angry to communicate. "You could sit down 'Lumi! I'll be in just a minute." You turn to walk to the kitchen only to be stopped by a strong grasp. You look down at Illumi's clasped hand around your wrist. "Lumi?" You voice,confused.

"Stay. I want you to sit with me." His request is void of emotion,sounding like a reading of a poor script but you know better than that. You know he's missed you but can't express it in the proper way. "Okay,whatever you want Illumi." You smile at him,kind and in the gummy way he often thinks about.

The stoic man ends up sitting in between your thighs,the position being decided on the offer of playing with his hair which you're happily doing. You hum as you do so,fingers running in the silky follicles. Your talk mostly about what you've been up to,deciding to leave Hisoka and Chrollo out of it after you dumped that information to the assassin earlier. Illumi only talks when you ask him a question about his life and it's always met with something vague that you don't mind at all.

Your meaty fingers start to work on a small braid in his hair but your fingers stutter when Illumi asks a odd question. "Did you enjoy it when Chrollo and Hisoka touched you like that?" The silence is deafening and you swear you could feel yourself swallow your lax tongue. " Lumi why would you want to know that?"

"Answer." He demands. You sigh,feeling ashamed of your answer,"Yes." At this point your hands have let go of the man's hair,finding refuge in your lap where they twiddle with other fingers. "Would you enjoy it if I touched you like that?" The question sounds innocent but the implication of what he's asking sinks into you.

"Illumi I don't think you know what you're saying..." You mutter shyly. "I do,I know of sexual intercourse and I know that's something I'd like to do with only you." Heat rushes up your body,his blunt words absorbing in your mind. "Illumi...I don't know what to say."

"Say you'd like to have sex with me too. I plan to make you my betrothed,to make you the mother of future heirs. I'd take care of you and bed you every night." One thing you missed about Illumi was his curt honesty but his multiple confessions were too much to handle right now. "Lumi are you okay? This is all so sud—"

Your breath catches in your throat when Illumi turns back out his dull eyes starring into yours and at this moment you realize how grave this situation is. Illumi's not one for sarcasm or for doing things without cause. You know he means every word he said.

"I am fine,I just want to make you mine and breed you already. Marry me (Reader)." Your eyes go wide and your mouth flacks open. This is just too much too process! Only thirty minutes ago you were wallowing in sadness and desperation and presently you just got offered a marriage proposal.

"Illumi I can't just give an answer right now...I do care for you a lot and—" Illumi asks a pointed question,"Do you love me?" Do you love Illumi? You think of him often,you call him all the time,you connect with him. He has a special place in your heart as the quiet man you saved so long ago..so yes,you do love Illumi.

"Yes I do but I can't just marry you so soon.You haven't even asked to be my boyfriend yet,let alone a husband." You say gently. Illumi looks confused,"Why not? Do you need convincing?" Your brows raise in curiosity,what type of convincing could change your mind about out of the blue engagement?

Illumi answer that question the moment he pounces on your dry lips,his desperate tongue moistening the skin as he begs for entrance inside. Due to shock you accidentally give him an opening and he takes it instantly. You feel bad for your stinky breath that most likely tastes like junk food but Illumi doesn't seem to care as he grips your chubby face in his hands.

He pulls away and searches your eyes for an answer, a clue on how you feel about his actions."I want to fuck you. I want to claim you so no other man like Chrollo and Hisoka can ever say they've been inside you. I want you now. Let me take you please."

Maybe the hungry kiss drove your brain to mush? Maybe the need for comfort kicked in at it's ultimate form? Or maybe it was the pool of slick that built up in your plain cotton panties—that convinced you to say yes. The second the man gets your agreement,you're forced to lay flat on your back,legs spread and your t-shirt raised to your braless chest.

Illumi slots himself in between your thighs,his cool and slender hands running up and your textured legs. Your brain scolds yourself for not shaving the limbs,you feel the need to apologize for being so hairy but you're stopped by Illumi's vague praise. "So soft. You feel good."

Illumi's hands travel higher to your inner thigh gripping the excess fat that adorns it. His grasp is bruising and stings in a way but it feels pleasant at the same time. Black eyes stare straight at your mound,locked in on the wet spot produced by slick. He moves with quickness to slide off his loosely fitting pants leaving him in his briefs that are fighting to constrain his hard length.

Pale hands pull your form closer to him—his bulge now flush with your cunt. Your legs rest on his shoulders while he experimentally thrusts his hips. He languidly moves back and forth against the warmth of your cunt. You begin to unsteadily breath as the tip of dick makes contact with your clit, a faint keen fleeing from your mouth. Squeaks here and there come from you,on the other hand your counterpart is being completely silent.

The only way you could tell Illumi is finding the friction pleasurable is his oozing tip dripping pre-cum. It feels slightly embarrassing to you that you're the only one crying out from stimulation especially because that's one of the few sounds you can hear besides the sounds of chaffing fabric. You want to hear Illumi feeling good too—the solo of your sexual noises not being good enough any longer.

Your hands gently reach for the roots of his hair and ever so slightly tug—the man groans quietly but you could still hear it. But similar to the silence of the room—rubbing crotches isn't enough anymore. "Closer 'Lumi,wanna feel you." The man wordlessly curves you body into a U shape,your hips being arched and your lower body resting on his muscular chest. He slides off your panties and places you down on your back.

"Spread." He directs. You obey and spread your legs hesitantly,still shy of being unshaven. Illumi seems irritated of the slow pace and just grabs your inners thighs flat onto the couch. You gasp,finally feeling the cool air on your spread slit. You could feel his hold on your thighs bring the beginning throbbing of bruises staring to form—the sharp pain making your brain dizzy.

"Not so rough 'Lumi..." you warn. He seems to pay you no mind and instead you could feel the grasp tighten. Something hazes his usual empty eyes—lust dominating him and distracting him. Illumi pulls out his bobbing cock—resting his pants underneath his full balls to keep them from interfering.

You're left scared for a few minutes...wondering if this is the very scary second you'll lose your virginity. But instead you're shocked when Illumi's smart fingers squish your fat lips together and slowly so very slowly place his cock in between the moist lips.

The man in between thrusts with a animalistic groan the comes from deep in his covered chest. His cock is warm and it gets even warmer the more frequent his thrusts rub against you cunt. The tip of his cock gently prods and pokes at your clit,making you arch up and whine airily.

" Lumi...!!" You moan. The man looks down at you as he pistons his hips between the fleshy folds—his doll like eyes staring straight into your soul. "You feel,"a low grunt cuts him off,"so good." His thin brows knit together as he admires the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your lips—he groans heartily,enjoying the sight.

There's a crude ring that loudly can be heard throughout the room. Illumi stops his sharp thrusting and glares down at the device interrupting the moment he's been longing for such a long time. He reaches for the phone in his back pocket,answering with a hint of anger in his voice.

However after only a few seconds that anger seemingly melts away. You watch curiously as he seems very interested in whatever the other person on the line has to say. After a few more moments he hangs up and looks at you,"I'll be back,I have something to take care of." He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead—sliding your panties back up onto your spread legs.

"Wait! You can't just leave Illumi! What's so important you have to leave me?" You sound desperate and pouty—unintentionally making you cringe. There's silence before Illumi calmly says,"I have a match to the death." You can practically feel any color of your skin flee your body,"What?! Illumi no! Stay with me please! You can't leave me." It's silly to stop someone who practices in death to not do such a thing—you know that but desperation claws at your heart.

"Please Illumi,stay with me! We can get married and do whatever you'd like but please don't...you might die." Illumi raises a thin brow,"I won't. I'm doing this so I can stay with you. So one else can take your attention away from me." You look at a Illumi with pleading eyes—fat tears threatening to spill,"What do you mean 'Lumi?"

"Chrollo and Hisoka,they're trying to take you away from me. I have to fight them to have you." If the news of him wasn't heart wrenching enough—the information of his opponents being two other men you also hold dear to felt organ failing. You're silent and empty of any feeling for a good minute,your brain and heart so confused on what to feel—to do.

"You can't! Illumi you can't! Please,I'll only belong to you! Just don't go!" You grab onto his lax hand,bringing it to your shaking chest. "I have to. They'll take you away from me if I don't."

You peer at him,glassy eyes staring determinedly to come up with a way for all of them to live.

There had to be something—a solution to ease the pain of losing two of the men who's charmed their way into your life. It finally hits you—they could all share you! They could compromise something,a deal that would leave them satisfied and alive.

"You don't have to that Illumi. You could all share me...I'd still belong to you, just differently." Illumi frees his hand from your touch,"No. I don't want to share you. You belong to me."

You look at him pleadingly gripping his hand,"Please,'Lumi,I'll never be the same if all of you can't be in my life..please." Illumi liked you as you are—kind,gentle,loving and affectionate,so the promise of you not being the same woman he met almost a year ago disheartens him.

He remembers how you welcomed him into your home,constantly being at his side and treating him with so much worry. He couldn't bare to imagine to only have you as a shell of a woman he used to know—the thought being unbearable.

His doll eyes stare into your teary ones deciding that's it better to have a part of you than to have just a shell of what you used to be. "Okay." He hesitantly agrees.

He doesn't miss how you immediately brighten up—smiling widely and tackling him to the floor in a rejoicing hug. He wraps his arms around your round middle, hoping he didn't make the wrong choice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Look at how many marks they left on you...I thought we would take your first time together but they're just barbaric with you,my dove." The voice purrs out. Long nails trail up your neck that's littered with different and shapes of marks.

"Oh shut up Hisoka, don't act like you don't mark her up." Chrollo hisses. "I'm not saying that but I'm lot more efficient than you. Look—,"Pale hands make work to lift up your pant less leg,showcasing the heart like mark the clown has made,"Isn't it just so much prettier than what you two have left on her?"

"It doesn't matter the marks,she doesn't complain when my fingers are inside h—" You slap your hand over the assassins mouth," Illumi! You can't say things like that!" Thin brows furrow,"Why not?" You huff and sigh," Never mind 'Lumi."

"Illumi's right (Reader),you shouldn't be so shy about thing like that, at least with us. After all tonight's the night." Chrollo says.

That's right,this is the day that was agreed upon,the night the all fuck you,the night they strip you away of your virginity. A few months ago before this night happened it was equally agreed upon they'd all be present during first time and from then on they could fuck all they want when they have their turn with you. This was the only thing the loose binding holding the arrangement of sharing you,the only thing keeping them from getting rid of one another. You'd been so lost with the constant courting from the three men and the jealousy that's constantly paired with obsession that this agreed date had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly you could feel all the anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks.

The most intuitive of the three men seems to notice you visibly stiffening up. "Oh my love,don't be so scared. You'll just have to worry about being on your cocks and that's all you'll have to worry about,okay?" Chrollo comforts. "See? I'm gonna get you all ready and nice and wet for me—I mean us and then you'll be feeling too good to even care." Almost to cement his words Chrollo begins to suckle at your already bruised neck,making other marks. You whine and grip at him,already whimpering pathetically at the simple touch.

"I can't let you just hog her." Hisoka makes a move to slither himself in between your legs,forcing your sitting position to become a laying one. He easily slides of your panties to which you notice he puts in the pocket of his pants. He pulls you away from the Chrollo by grounding your lower half closer to his face. He practically smooches his face and your pussy against each other. You could and hear how he inhales your scent,how his fingers part the fat hairy lips to get a better whiff. He inhales the musky scent—moaning loudly when he can catch the natural musk of the wet organ.

"You smell so good,my dove! But I bet you taste even better.." As soon as said those words his tongue dives into the tight canal—a keen of shocked pleasure coming from you. "Mmm,you feel good,spider?" You nod but that's not the answer the man on top of you wants. He taps the fat of your hips and gives a firm grasp,"Use your words. You have such a pretty voice to answer me with."

"I feel good!" You say—already breathless with the stimulation. "Yeah,who's making you feel good?" You grips his shoulders tighter,"You are!" A hard slap comes to your cellulite ridden thigh,a reminder of the man that's so faithfully fucking your hole with his tongue,"And S-Soka!" The man in between with your thighs rewards you for your answer by moving up to suck your clit,replacing his tongue for fingers instead now.

Chrollo would've preferred you stuck with him only but he doesn't voice that,too distracted by the pebbling nipples underneath the ragged shirt. His hand moves to lift up the shirt and once he does he can't help but eat up the beauty before him. There you are,breasts slightly drooping,the natural weight of them hanging them lower and your hard nipples that are begging to be sucked on. But he can't forget the most supple part of you—your tummy that's constantly moving up due to your heavy breathing,that looks so grippable and plump—and oh my god the soft rolls between the layers of skin makes him want to just sink his fingers into the flesh while he's carefully thrusting into you.

"You're so beautiful,so pretty..." He runs his fingers across your skin,igniting goosebumps to flare up. He bends down to suckle on your breast,you could feel the slight bites and pulls he does with his mouth which has you arching and begging for more. Suddenly another grip is felt and you turn to see an all too focused Illumi,massaging and groping the fat. You almost forgot about his presence due to his lack of talking and action.

He leans down to bring your lips into a feverish kiss. With each lick of Hisoka's tongue,with Chrollo's comforting sucking on breast and Illumi's hungry touch and kiss you find yourself jerking away from their touch. Jumping and flinching away from any affection,the feeling of an orgasm being too strong to handle. But three strong men hands stop you from moving away from the pleasure,forcing you to feel every wave and earthquake that comes crashing down onto your body.

You stay panting open mouthed into Illumi's, body shaking and trying to recover. Chrollo finally pops off your boob,a small smile painting his dark features. "You did so good. So,so,so good." Hisoka arises from your thighs,"Mmh and you tastes so good too." He rubs your unshaven legs,squeezing and gripping the flesh harshly as he does so. He licks the sheeny slick off your lips,making your turn away from the lewd sight.

"Do you think one orgasm has helped you eased up a little?" Chrollo asks. You're about to nod but you remember his words a few minutes and instead opt for verbally answering,"Yes,I can handle everything now."

Chrollo and Hisoka stare at Illumi,warningly. "We're letting you be in her first because you're a virgin too but if you can't control yourself we won't hesitate to hurt you." Chrollo spits out with venom. "And here," Hisoka tosses a colorful green condom his way,"put this on before you fuck her. You won't be breeding her anytime soon." Illumi catches the colorful item and looks at it in disdain,much preferring to fill you with his kids instead. He doesn't resist though and snuggly slides on the protection. You find it intimidating how you're the only one really showing the most skin,Illumi just having his cock out of his pants and Chrollo and Hisoka still relatively clothed as well.

The male walks to your spread legs,his cool hands making sure to spread them even farther for better access. He slots himself between them and places his upper half to partly lean against yours, chest flush with yours. He cradles your face in his single hand and very slowly begins to slide into you.

Your moans and his slight gasps pair together before he's fully in. You felt your self shape and stretch to accommodate the length inserted. "Oh...'Lumi." Your meaty hands reach for his back,slotting the fingers into the muscles on it. He begins an unsure thrust,still trying to get used to the warmth and wetness he could still feel even with the condom. But once he gets the momentum he's practically ramming into,forcing you to call and moan for him,the hands on his back scratching at it.

The motions of the hands stop though because Chrollo reaches for it,bringing it low to touch his now free and throbbing cock. He looks at you expectantly,hunger and desire eating up his charcoal eyes. You wrap an unsure hand around the length,going up and down at a even pace. "Fuck...just like that (Reader). Doing so good." He praises.

You're met with another hungry man,begging for much needed attention. Hisoka's hand turns your face towards your him, a throbbing pink tip being only near millimeters away from your lips. "Say ahh~" You expect him to place his cock in your mouth but instead a long line of saliva falls flat on your tongue. "Swallow it." You do and that's met with astounding praise,"Good girl! Now you deserve my dick." Hisoka slowly slides the the expanse of his dick inside your mouth.

You struggle to move your head but the man aids you by moving your head for you,a large hand bobbing your head up and down. “Mmf! You’re doing so good! Taking me so well!”

You feel yourself melting into the pleasure you’re receiving and giving. You feel comfortably void of any thought—the body taking over any type of consciousness. You don’t know how long you feel Illumi thrust into,making you see stars when he’s particularly rough—you know though that you cum with a muffled moan that vibrates against Hisoka’s cock.

It’s a domino effect it seems—Illumi cums soon after then Chrollo who spurts his cum on your hand and face,finally Hisoka cums in your throat—a slender hand rubbing against the pudge of your cheek,rewarding you for the hard work.

You slump against the bed,feeling like you can actually focus and breath again. “ ‘m tired.” You mumble against Hisoka’s smooth thigh. “No no,that just won’t do. You’re not done yet.” Hisoka purrs. You sit up,”What do you mean?” Chrollo wipes off his cum that’s partially splattered on your forehead and other cheek,bringing his hand to your lips to clean him up. You do while he says something that makes your tired body prepared again,”We want more. We want to feel you more.”

Illumi shows how serious those words are by his flaccid cock getting hard inside again. “It’s my turn to be in her Illumi,don’t be greedy.” Hisoka says. “I get to have her mouth.” Chrollo says happily,already caressing your puffy lips.

For the rest of the night they use you as a unit—abusing every hole they can get their greedy cock in. Working as a group for their own selfish reason—you.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED🫶🏽🫶🏽!! TYSM FOR READING!

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rogueddie · 7 months

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There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #creaturefeature

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faexoxoxoxo · 4 months

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My Love Will Never Die...

Pairing: vampire! geto suguru x fem! reader

Summary: your father was a good man, gullible yes, but still good, so when you receive a letter telling you of his imprisonment, you're left with no choice but to make your way to the Lord's castle, hoping you'd convince him to release your father in exchange for the little gold you have to offer. Pity that's not enough for him...

Warnings: 18+, dubconish, smuttt, breeding, blood drinking...

Sharp wind bites at your skin, carrying with it the promise of frost and cold. Your thin cloak barely shields you against the chill, leaving you shuddering. You had nothing in your heart but hope, hope that your father was alive, hope that his captor would show a shred of mercy and agree to set him free in exchange for what little gold you had to offer.

The woods appeared to have a life of their own, some trees reaching tall while others thick and tangled down below, mist growing thicker as you rode deeper and deeper into the forest, causing your sight to fluctuate between clear and blurry. An eternity seemed to pass before the dense trees gave way, fog lessening to reveal a clearing, and there it was at the center.

The castle stood tall, an ominous, imposing presence. Its twisted spires and sharp black points against the sky as if to pierce the heavens themselves. People in your villagers had long whispered tales of the horrors that lurked within the castle's walls, of the elusive Lords and Ladies that called its dark halls their home.

“...eight, nine, ten…”

Step by step, you counted, trying to push away the fear that threatened to consume you. Dismounting from your trusty steed, pulling its lead rope you slowly nearing the castle gates, the sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot, doing little to ease your already tense nerves.

“Welcome Madam, Master Geto has been expecting you.”

One of the guards standing by the gates greeted, seeing your approaching figure, tone calm and respectful as he opened the large gates, and taking the reins of your horse, gesturing to his companion to take you inside the castle grounds.

Following behind the guard, you couldn't shake off the dread creeping into your bones. He was expecting you? Why? How could this Master Geto have been so certain you would come for your father's aid? And the way that guard spoke as though you were a person of great importance, when you were merely the daughter of a poor village healer…

It was usually dark inside, with only a handful of burning torches lighting your way, the sound of your shoes clanking against the dark marble floor echoed through the stately halls. The elegant surroundings only added to your unease, ornate tapestries and massive statues decorating the area, one sculpture in particular standing out amongst the rest, a black dragon with haunting purple eyes, fangs bared, wings spread wide, as though ready to leap from its pedestal and tear you apart. Subconsciously, you draw your cloak closer, wishing to make yourself invisible.

Reaching a set of grand double doors, the guard in front of you halted. He was nervous. You noticed a slight shift in the burly man's demeanour as he knocked on the door once, twice, and no more. Moments of silence followed before a response finally came from the other side.

“Send her in, Makoto”

The voice was deep and commanding, making you feel small despite not having yet seemed the person it belonged to. The guard, Makoto, instantly opened the doors, ushering you inside, before closing the doors behind you with a deafening thud, causing you to flinch, the reaction earning a chuckle from the man sitting in the room.

“Timid little thing, aren't you?”

“I...I…”

You stood for a moment, unsure of how to respond, taking in your surroundings: shelves lined with more books, tomes and scrolls than you could imagine, and him seated beside the fireplace in a leather armchair clad in the finest black robes, the man you could only assume was the Master of the castle, Lord Geto.

He was not what you imagined, not that there was much to imagine with how little anyone knew of him, but you definitely did not anticipate him possessing a face so handsome even the finest craftsmen couldn't sculpt, raven locks loose and inviting as if waiting for someone to run their hands through it.

But it was his eyes, unlike any you'd ever gazed upon in your life, a deep, haunting violet much like the dragon state; they pierced straight into your soul, making your breath hitch.

“Sit.” He gestures to the chair beside him, a soft smile tugging on his lips watching you do as he says.

“L...Lord Geto…” You begin feeling your heartbeat pick up he made you so nervous... How could someone look so perfect and his voice...it was so smooth and soothing like a sirens song...

“Suguru” he looks at you frowning, the smile now gone, as though you gravely offended him. “You just call me Suguru.”

You froze for a second. He wanted you to call him Suguru. Was that his name? Why? Why? So many questions ran through your mind, but you knew now wasn't the time. “As you wish...Suguru.” It sounded so strange his name on your tongue, but seeing his smile return, you continued, “I received your letter. My father... he's old and sick...I'm sorry, I will pay for his wrongdoings...” Taking out the worn-out bag, you show him the few gold coins inside. This was meant to be your dowry, but now the dreams of ever finding a husband, having children, or a home of your own seemed so far …

“Hmm…” he hums as if sympathetic to your case, but his next words crushed any previous hopes you had. “I'm afraid gold won't make up for the damages your father caused.”

“Then...then what must I do?”

“Perhaps…” There's a glimmer of wickedness in his eyes now as he looks at you. “You could take his place?”

“M...me?” You gasp at his sudden offer “B...but what use could I possibly have...can't you just accept the gold..please…” you pleaded but that only seemed to fuel whatever desire he had of keeping you in place of your father.

“I'm sure we can find something for you to do…” he muses, violet eyes hungrily roaming your body freely, making you squirm in your seat. “Of course I can always have your father hanged for thievery; as you said, he's old, with little ability, no use keeping deadweight alive…”

“No !” You protest, “No, please, I...I'll stay !” There was no way you could stand by and let your father die, not when there was a chance to save him, even if it meant sacrificing yourself…

“Good girl.” Suguru pats your head, his smile widening. You could've sworn you saw a flash of something sharp, fangs? No, that's impossible. Your tired mind was simply playing tricks on you…

~~~

True to his word, Suguru released your father from the dungeons the next morrow. You'd been allowed a brief goodbye before he was sent away, courtesy of the Lord.

After that, you expected to be thrown into the damp cells or at best given a room in the servants quarters; not that there was anything to complain about; these were the terms of your father's life in exchange for you spending yours in captivity. However, to your surprise, you had been given a room in the west wing of the castle, right besides Suguru's.

“You need to stay close to serve me,” he chuckled when asked for the reason. Cold hands patted your head, ruffling your hair in the process. He really seemed to like doing that.

Suguru was a strange captor, never asking you to do harsh tasks; quite the contrary, he was quick to grow agitated whenever you suggested doing anything related to household chores, working in the gardens, cooking meals, or tending to the horses with other servants...

“How many times must I repeat myself? Your only task is serving me.”

But you never want me to do anything! You bite your lips every time, silently screaming in your mind. Serving the Lord was boring. All he asked of you during the day was to sit in his office as he finished the never-ending amount of paperwork on his desk. Occasionally, he'd ask you to fetch him his special wine, and that was it.

Despite his at times odd behaviors, you found Suguru to be charming? others might label you as debauched for finding the man who threatened to kill your father, and now served as your captor attractive, but strangely, you couldn't bring yourself to care, how could anyone be expected to remain impervious when facing someone so...alluring.

To make matters worse, he was so much more than a pretty face. He was gentle and kind; there was the casual teasing and laughing whenever he noticed you getting flustered due to his words, and even that made your heart flip-flop...

It was so easy to get lost in him, but you tried the best to nib the blooming affections at the bud, constantly reminding yourself of the position you had. There was no way Lord Geto Suguru would return your feelings; he was a highborn lord who'd go on to marry a purebred lady of upper-class society. You were a prisoner, lowborn, and insignificant compared to him...

For what felt like a year, you continued living the same daily routine: waking up, getting dressed, drawing Suguru his morning bath, helping him dress, never leaving his side, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “It calms me,” he claimed, something you never questioned, and as the days went by, you began feeling more and more like a pampered house pet than a prisoner serving their sentence, but then you started to grow homesick missing your father and the garden of herbs you tended to…

~~~

“Suguru” you said one night as you both sat by the fireplace, having finally worked up the courage to ask him, "I...I was thinking, Would it be alright if I visited my father? Not for long, of course, just a few days…I promise I'll return; my village is close by, I just w—”

Suguru's wine glass shattered in his hands, expression growing cold. You flinched at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of blood dripping down his finger. What was happening? You had never seen him react like this before. Sure, there was sternness or chiding whenever you accidentally scalded yourself trying to bake something, but this was completely new... and it terrified you.

“Leave? You wish to leave me?” Suguru rose from the chair, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. “I thought you'd just need time to accept me,” he whispered, violet eyes glimmering dangerously as he approached you, and you're not sure if you heard him right. Accept him? What did he mean? You swallowed nervously as he inches closer, your back hitting the smooth wall, his arms on your sides trapping you in place.

“Sugure...” You want to beg, to tell him you regret asking to go home, to promise you'll never ask again. But all that comes out is a broken sob as you feel him dig his fingers into your hips to keep you from moving out of his hold.

His eyes softened. "No, no, hush now...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” hands trailing to your face, gently wiping the tears under your eyes. “Always forget how delicate your kind can be...” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

You don’t move. Thoughts whirling as you replayed his words in your head. Your kind, your kind, your kind, your kind. You knew you heard him right; he'd said it, but what did that even mean? Suguru was like you, wasn't he? He was human...

He was cold, too cold, always cold…

He didn't eat, always making some sort of excuse to skip meals…but he loved to drink…the special wine he loved, it was red and smelled metallic like…like…blood …

“Nosferatu.” You mumble knowingly, looking into his violet eye.

Every little child had been told the tales of his kind. blood sucking creatures of the night who feasted on mankind, vampires, and Suguru was one of them. The revolution was too much; you could feel yourself losing air, and then you fainted in his arms.

~~~

You wake this time in something soft and velvety. Seeing the faintest flicker of candlelight around as you force your eyes to open. your neck hurts, you feel strange, warm, too warm this wasn't your room; it was…

“You're awake.”

His. Your mind replays the events before Suguru wasn't human; he was a monster, something straight out of the scary bedtime stories your grandmama would tell you...

“Don't hurt me !” You try to back away, to break free of his hold, tears streaming down your face. This wasn't how you envisioned your life ending.

No, no, no, no…

“I won't,” he tries to assure, but you can feel his hands tighten around your waist. His cold lips stop against your pulse point as he licks up and down your neck. “You're mine, my fated, I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to…”

Fated? What in the world was that? You open your mouth, wanting to scream for help, but all that comes out is a helpless moan... You feel so week, your body was on fire. You needed something, anything, to make it go away....

“If only you knew how painful it was.” His voice is a drug, intoxicating, but if you take too much, you'll die. Large hands gently rub your thighs, making you shake. “Denying myself of claiming you when I first set eyes on you...so fucking hard, but then you say you want to go back...” he laughs, not the usually warm ones that make your heart flutter. No, this one was cold. Sending shivers down your spine...

“No more waiting”

You let out a squeak as he pushes you into the mattress, moving himself to face you now. Violet eyes shining with hunger, and desire...

“Suguru–” he slams his mouth on yours, fully intending on muffling whatever protests you have. His tongue was rough and cruel as he filled your mouth, only pulling away to rip your dress off, leaving you bare for him, hungry eyes taking in every little detail of your body as he strips himself off his dark robes. Why was he so beautiful ? His face, his toned muscles, his... oh, so big, there's no way that'll fit. You want to run and hide, shrink into nothing so he can't find you...

“my perfect love” he coos lips again on your neck slowly trailing kisses, down to body until he's reached the place you no man has ever seen. you want to squeeze your thighs shut to tell him not to look, but you can't, not with the firm grip he has on you legs...

“This is mine,” he takes a long lick, burying his nose into your wetness, inhaling your smell. “My pussy,” he groans into you, “mine to breed.” His long fingers move now, rubbing against your bundle of nerves as he greedily laps at your juices, this... this was what you needed to stop the burning in your core. You feel yourself shake, hips rocking into Suguru's face, hands making their way to his scalp, pulling him closer. You need it, need more, so close...then you fall over the edge; too much, too much, and he's drinking it all up...

Pulling away, he gives you a mischievous grin showing off his fangs, as he comes back up to kiss your lips so you can taste yourself on his tongue, rocking his hips so you can feel how hard he is, how much you turn him on...

“Please, please, Suguru, please...” You're not sure what you're begging for, mind too foggy to comprehend anything. All your senses consumed by Suguru, his touch, his smell, you want him to make the burning ache go away...

“My sweet love,” he coos, kissing your forehead, hips still rutting into your stomach, “we'll be forever bound after this, as it was always meant to be...” he grins, love drunk eyes focused on you a feral gleam in them, and for a split second, the logical part of your mind returns, but it was too late now...He'd wrapped your legs around his waist one hand holding on to yours and the other moving down to gide himself into your virgin cunt.

You screamed at the foreign feeling, clawing at his back, he was tearing you open, filling your insides, it hurt so bad you didn't want it anymore...

“Shhhh you can take it,” he kisses you again, “my good girl” You feel him move gentle and slow, but the moment he hears you moan, he takes it as a sign to fuck you hard. It makes your head spin. He's so, so deep, you can feel him hitting all the right spots inside, making you see stars...

“Thought about breaking your legs when you said you wanted to leave,” Suguru growls into your neck, his sharp teeth scraping the bruised skin he'd bitten during your unconscious state. “But this is better,” you gasp as his pace becomes more brutal, deeper and deeper, giving you the feeling that the head of his cock would poke through your stomach. “You'll be my good girl from now on, won't you?” he looks at you, the edge of his mouth quirking into a sly smirk as if daring you to challenge him.

“Yes, yes...” you nod, the feeling of his fingers pushing on your already sensitive clit making you cum for the second time, toes curling as you cling on to Suguru, who moans at the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering around him sucking at him harder. "You'll look so perfect swollen with my seed,” his hands holding yours in a painful grip, thrusts growing sloppy and untimed, “Our own family, f–fuck... you'll never think about leaving me...”

No…no…no push him off…push him off

A tiny voice in your heart shrieked, knowing the consequences of what would happen if this beast successfully fucked his child into you. Any chance of escape gone, you'd forever be a prisoner to him…

But it was so hard to act, mind dazed, and vision blurry with fresh tears, tangled into Suguru's arms, whimpering as you felt him fill you up, rope after rope of his thick cum coating your inside, fangs sinking into your neck as you gush around him.

“My pretty love," he purrs, still inside you, “My always and forever.” blood coated lips met yours gentler than before, almost making you melt, thinking maybe just maybe being Suguru's wouldn't be so bad...

A/N - trying to get back into writing longer fics and not just drabbles or headcanons so hope this turned out well...I did a alpha!gojo hc before and vamp!geto now next I'm thinking ghost!Nanami mayhaps...

My ask box is always open if anyone wants to talk (≧ω≦) fr tho come talk to me babes I love to hear from ya'll

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3

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lovelyney · 4 months

Text

────𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒────

IN WHICH: You accidentally whack Wriothesley in the nose during a training session and feel bad !!

PAIRINGS: Wriothesley x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: fluff but gets kind of nsfw towards the end ??

WARNINGS: uh wrio makes a comment implying masturbation towards the end? that and you guys just makeout, lol.

FLORIST’S NOTE: Reader is a mix between Wrio’s and Sigewinne’s assistant !! Also happy belated new years, blossoms !!

SONG: Bang! Bang! (K,NAAN & Adam Levine)

───────────2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

WRIOTHESLEY LAUGHS as you drag him through the Fortress of Meropide, drawing the attention of those around you. Though typically, you’d feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or perhaps self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of others, this time, it’s different. Your attention is focused solely on Wriothesley as he holds his free hand up to his bloodied nose. Knowing Wriothesley and his job here, it’s easy to imagine it resulting from a scuffle with a particularly stubborn criminal or something along those lines. However, the truth cannot be farther from that. In actuality, you’re the one responsible for this bloody nose. . . Allow me to expand on the situation a little.

Around a week or so ago, he unexpectedly marched into your office and insisted you learn how to fight. His motives for the sudden declaration were not out of a lack of appreciation for your work at the Fortress but rather a desire for your protection while he’s away. On another note, he believes you’re too “reserved and gentle” with others—“too much like a frightened kitten rather than a fearsome lion,” as he blatantly put it. It was a comparison you found somewhat degrading, yet you couldn’t deny it did speak the truth of your nature. In the end, you decided to comply with his wishes, and from there on out, he started to teach you self-defense and train you.

Cut to the present: Wriothesley pulled you aside for your daily training session. Everything was going swimmingly at first, with you defending yourself from his attacks as usual. Then, amid it all, you accidentally hit him square in the nose and rather hard at that. The punch was neither intentional nor malicious, but it still managed to send him stumbling back and clutching his nose in pain. A tsunami of guilt and worry flooded your system as you frantically apologized to him, but he simply brushed it off and smiled. The look in his eyes was one of mild shock but also of something more. . . fond. He seemed amused rather than angry or annoyed, appearing to be impressed and even a little smitten.

Sigewinne enters the infirmary with the medical supplies you requested, stopping just inside the door to ask you a question. She furrows her brow in concern, noticing the panic in your expression. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of him, Mx. (Y/N)? You’re a bit pale. . . Maybe you should sit and rest for a little while,” she offers kindly.

Wriothesley observes you with a lovesick expression as you prepare a cotton swab, your tongue poking out between your lips from concentration. His heart singes when you take his hand that’s pressed to his nose and lay it gently on his lap; your skin is warm and soft compared to his, scarred and calloused, from his duties here at the Fortress.

When you assure her with that enchanting smile of yours—the same one that drives him wild—it feels like his entire body has been set on fire, and he’s certain you can feel that fire when you press your palm to his cheek to keep him still. “D—Don’t worry, Sigewinne. I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.” You answer calmly, despite your hold on him being slightly shaky.

With a brief nod of her head, Sigewinne slips out of the room, leaving you and Wriothesley alone. As you press the cotton swab to his nose, he lets out a sharp hissing sound as the disinfectant works its magic. “Ouch! Shit, maybe I didn’t give you enough credit. That was a hell of a punch. . .” he chortles, trying to lighten up your mood a little. But his amusement falters when you pout, your face a heartbreakingly adorable sight.

“I—I really am sorry, Your Grace! I didn’t expect to hit you so hard. . . In—In fact, I thought you’d move out of the way before I even got the chance too,” you lament and carefully tilt his chin up, making sure you cleaned all the blood off. “How badly does it hurt? Do—Do you want me to go get some painkillers or ice? Please, just—”

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Wriothesley’s tone is soothing as he speaks, seeming intent on consoling you. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with far worse scuffs than this. So, please, don’t think for a second I’m mad at you or anything of that nature. I’m more proud than anything, really.” He adds, melting under the warmth and care of your gaze. He finds himself feeling a little selfish in this moment, wishing you’d always spend so much time doting on him. You’re always so engrossed in your work, and as much as he admires that side of you, he’s also become increasingly smitten with you without you even batting an eye. Your self-absorbed disposition has made you oblivious to his adoring eyes, and he can’t help but feel a mix of heartbreak and longing as he considers how blind you are to his affections. “Hm. . . Now that we’re alone, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he admits, humming contentedly as your hand presses to his face once more, oblivious to the surge of adrenaline that shoots through his veins with every touch. Your affectionate actions result from your nurturing demeanor, but he begs silently for them to mean something more.

Your puzzled expression, bearing a resemblance to a confused puppy, only further softens the gentle smile on Wriothesley’s face. “Is that so? Is—is there a reason you’re only bringing it up now?” You inquire anxiously, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You hope that your unexpected punch wasn’t the last straw for him firing you or something like that. The worry in your voice and tension in your body language betray your deep concern, and Wriothesley finds himself smitten by your innocence and tenderness.

The duke pauses momentarily, seeming to mull something over in his mind. “It’s been harder to get you alone these days, with you always engrossed in your paperwork or helping Sigewinne. I can’t bring myself to tear you away when you’re always so faithful.” He acknowledges. His eyes linger over your lips for just a moment too long, his imagination taking over as he considers the softness of them and how they taste. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he holds back the urge to kiss those teeth away and murmur how he’s the only one allowed to ruin your lips.

You mutter the words, “My apologies, your Grace,” as you press the bandage to the bridge of his nose. Taking a step back, you freeze under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, you have my full, unrivaled attention as of r-right now...?” You try to sound confident, but your sheepish expression gives you away.

Wriothesley hums in response, amused and enticed by the sudden color that washes over your face. Clearing his throat, he slips one hand around your waist and pulls you flush against his warm frame. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he allows the intensity of the moment to sink in. “Oh? Do I now? Good,” he purrs, his voice deep and velvety as it echoes in your ears—sending vibrations throughout your core. You shudder when the smooth of his fingers glide over the exposed skin on your waist, and he almost finds it a little sadistic with how much he’s enjoying you squirm when he hasn’t even done anything.

Your breathing becomes a touch erratic as you feel the lingering touch of his hand against your waist. You attempt to mask your growing excitement, skin prickling with electricity. Despite your best efforts, there’s a faint quiver in your words that you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “G—Go on. . .”

Sadly, nothing gets past Wriothesley’s gaze, and he’s able to take note of your trembling voice and hands; he isn’t the duke for nothing, after all. He can’t help but feel the boost to his ego when he realizes he has a tight grip over you at this moment. With a swift tug, you’re suddenly pushed against his broad chest, eyes blown wide. He chuckles as you choke over your words, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “You know, (princess/prince). . . I can’t tell if you’re just dense or trying to prove something to yourself.” The raven-haired male teases. “I’ve been smitten with you for weeks now, you know,” he presses, eyes trained on your expression to read any changes. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re as aware as your actions suggest—or if you have been merely feigning ignorance. Please, explain yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the magnitude of Wriothesley’s words settles in; he’s so direct and brazen with his declaration that it sucks all the breath out of your lungs. Your mind races as you grapple with the sudden realization that he is just as enamored with you as you are with him. Your expression must speak louder than words because as you open your lips to speak, Wriothesley closes the distance—slotting his mouth on yours.

It sends all your senses reeling like they’ve been drenched in ice water after burning for too long. Like a balm and a spark, it’s both a soothing salve and a blazing inferno, comforting and ravaging you in equal measure. All the tension of your attraction has suddenly become a physical manifestation, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that have gone unsaid for too long.

Wriothesley pulls himself even closer to you, his passion only intensifying the longer the kiss carries on. The feeling of his body pressing against yours ignites a primal urge within you, driving the kisses to become more intense. His hands slide further down the bare flesh of your back, tracing your waist in a possessive claim to your body. His tongue dives underneath your bottom lip; it probes between them, trying to gain access to the interior of your mouth.

A noise akin to a muffled whimper escapes your throat as his tongue pushes into your mouth with a feverish, nearly desperate need. The intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself shudder with a sense of raw desire as his hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, his fingers squeezing and digging into the soft flesh. His touch is both tender and possessive, sending your nerves reeling.

When his fingers climb closer up your thighs, you plant your hands on his face and gently push his head away, his mouth chasing after yours instantaneously. You sigh softly, your face flushed scarlet from the heat of the situation. “Wriothesley. . . We are still in your office. Anyone can walk in at any time.” You chuckle, swiping the saliva from his bottom lip.

His body hums with contentment at the breathless sound of his name coming from your lips. He lets out a displeased huff as he nestles his nose in the crook of your neck, sharply inhaling your scent and drowning himself in the warmth of your body. He absentmindedly starts nipping at your skin, “And? I’ve had enough nights getting off—”

“O—Okayokay! As an. . . apology for keeping you waiting, how about after work, we fulfill those fantasies of yours?” You chuckle nervously and thread your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans his entire body onto you. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way some of the inmates looked at me when I dragged you in here. . . I don’t think I could recover if they walked in and found out they guessed right.”

Wriothesley’s laughter is like a deep, thunderous rumble that soon after swarms your stomach with butterflies. His kisses pepper your face in response, the sweet scent of your skin filling him with a sense of contentment. He pulls away and smiles down at you, the heat and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. “After work, then,” he repeats and holds up his pinky, signaling you to do the same. Rolling your eyes, you indulge him and hook your pinky to his—a cutesy gesture veiled in a not-so-innocent promise.

#꒱₊˚ fawn’s flowers #꒱₊˚ lumindounce bells #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff

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yzzart · 6 months

Text

"𝐀 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠."

pairing: peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

summary: your voice guided, with dignity, the life of Coriolanus.

warnings: explicit words, reader having Coriolanus wrapped around her finger, mention of Coriolanus' mother + take a look at the masterlist!

word count: 1.186!

notes: okay, i wrote this listening to "Pearls" by Sade, which i consider a work of art and i recommend listening to it while reading! — enjoy this!

The ears of Coriolanus were witnesses, which might be considered honorable, of a pleasant song unknown to him; but, the young boy's chest would certainly acclaim to hear it again on another occasion.

The song was catchy, and managed to accompany a calming feeling in Coriolanus; something that, since his punishment, had not been found in him. — He saw himself in a memory of his childhood, during the nights when his dear mother hummed to him until he closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Coriolanus missed his mother every night and every damn day.

However, it was not, in fact, the song that provided those feelings so gratifying and exceptional in Coriolanus' chest. — Warming Snow boy's cold and wounded heart. — but, yes, the voice of whoever was singing.

The delicate voice, pronouncing each word with care, was so angelic and put those who listened to her singing in trouble as it mesmerized them and held their attention with vigor; so, as Coriolanus was. — He found himself trapped in you, and he had no desire to free himself.

Coriolanus, for the first time, presented himself as a bird that did not wish or intend to leave its gilded cage. — Perhaps, it was an exaggerated, drastic statement, or it was, in fact, what he was experiencing.

Your voice was divine; you were divine. — And Coriolanus agrees that your mother would love to hear you sing.

The birds, which were present in the fresh and free environment of the forest, seemed to accompany your song. — Coriolanus preferred that they proceed in silence, just flying between the trees and you, but he didn't waste time worrying about a trivial thing. — He just wanted to keep listening to you, delighting and trapped in your domain.

The forest was before you and Coriolanus lying, interconnected, on the ground covered with a clean sheet and with a few grains of earth; Coriolanus' cold arm around your neck and you clinging to his chest.

Your fingers roamed Coriolanus's broad, clothed chest; his shirt was still a little wet from the contact of the water drops that remained on his body. — That didn't bother you, especially because dressed like him you were in the same situation. — Developing a long affection, a movement of imaginary drawings, and complemented more comfort in Coriolanus; even with your head in your backpack with the intention of turning it into a pillow, completely uncomfortable.

But the young boy still had his eyes closed, as if he were in his old bed with his thin, worn blanket and with you next to him; even if his bed can't fit him properly. — Deepened in his voice and the attention he received. — Coriolanus was in the paradise he was once told about.

Until an unwelcome and inopportune silence revealed itself, not even the noises and songs of the birds continued, only the natural sounds of trees and branches struggling. — Coriolanus was surprised, feeling misunderstood and uncomfortable.

Your song is gone, like a deer that has seen its hunter or like a snowflake that has melted; an unpleasant, and even unhappy, impression for Coriolanus. — Not even his punishment, his pain at having been humiliated and defamed, bothered Snow as much as not hearing your voice.

The current peacekeeper opened his eyes, revealing his deep blue irises; that caused commotion and emotions never felt by you, by your naive heart. — Blessed and scrupulous eyes, just like his surname. — Looking to find out what could have caused your silence.

And so Coriolanus found your dreamy and enchanting eyes looking at him; shining against him. — It was, indeed, impressive how you transmitted your passion and a flame of pleasure so easily into your orbits; Coryo was intrigued by this.

Was Coriolanus truly worthy of such admiration and passion? — Your eyes completed his slender face, with mature and serious features, which still contained his pure features; memorizing every sign, every tip of his face as if it were the last time. — Did he deserve that?

"Oh, Coryo…" — His nickname came out delicately, almost a careful whisper, like a little secret from your lips; you had a tone of caution and moderation. — "I thought you fell asleep." — Coriolanus noticed a movement on the inside of your cheek, you bit it nervously.

A sleepy and presumptuous wave, influenced by your song, began to slowly guide Coriolanus' consciousness before the sudden interruption. — His stubborn and heavy eyes stated the fact and, inside you, he identified it before he himself understood it.

You knew that young boy like the back of your hand, like a map that you observed and analyzed for so long until you memorized it with desire and ambition. — Something incompressible and bitter in some eyes, however, something so worthy for him; something he never received in his ordinary life.

"Again..." — Now, an intensely hoarse and robust tone of voice vibrated in your head and mind, awakening something in you; it was a possible incomplete request coming from Coriolanus. — Something that quickly became confusing.

Not understanding, in a way, your furrowed eyebrows presented themselves to the boy, wanting him to at least specify what he was asking for. — Your lips were pressed together, still nervous, and curled in waiting. — And, during the seconds, the familiar thin fingers with some cuts, caused by the current duties, were involved between the strands of your hair.

Even with the heavy feeling of pure sleep, and insisting against it, Coriolanus distributed a sweet and melodic affection to you; it wasn't a surprising action, of course, however, in a certain way and aspect it was something different. — A reason, a feeling, emotion; a way to thank you for being so lucky to have you, to be with you. — Comforting and confronting the certainty that he deserved you.

"Sing again…" — Coriolanus uttered his request confidentially, as an act of rebellion against his silence and stubbornness, seeming like it would be his last request. — He was trapped in you, perhaps, even wrapped around your little finger, being able to build and destroy lives by your soul.

The heavens asked for mercy for the burning passion that burned uncontrollably and thrashed in the Snow boy's freezing chest. — Because they knew, and had in their minds, what he would do for you.

You wouldn't dare deny that request, which held itself in a dedicated place in your mind; your heart was racing, and Coriolanus felt it, on such an exaggerated level between words and fallacies. — And the shy, at the same time, exalted smile curved on your lips; trying to focus and return to reality.

And, for the countless time, you found yourself in love with Coriolanus.

Coriolanus listened and witnessed a brief, enchanting laugh from his lover, as you moved even deeper into his chest. — Wanting to fit into it, like a head-scratching piece. — And at no time or for any reason, he removed his fingers from your hair.

Your voice was present again in Coriolanus's ears, among the melodic noises of the birds and the contacts between the trees and branches; Your voice was part of that environment. — It was the same song, there was nothing different or any modification. — The life of Coriolanus had seduced itself into her.

The young boy felt that feeling of peace around him, becoming part of his body and mind. — He felt protected and loved, just like little Coriolanus with his mother.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #snow #coriolanus #peacekeeper!coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth

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selarina · 7 months

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The Ken to whose Barbie?

-> Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Summary: He's supposed to be Ken this Halloween, as in Barbie's Ken, but he doesn't think he looks the part. But you insist that he does. He's blonde, he’s literally named Ken, and he's just oh so very handsome.

Tags: halloween party, established relationship, fluff, smut, jealously, alcohol use, spit kink, oral sex (f!receiving), implied (m!receiving) oral sex, kisses on the feet, bath scene, aftercare, she/her pronouns used for reader, unedited

Word Count: 2.5k words

Author's Note: wanted to release this on Friday the 13th but I couldn't :/ Also, sorry the smut was quick. I was horny and then I got un-horny

Read on AO3

"Wow, don't you look... flamboyant."

Shoko walked towards him as Nanami barely smiled. He greets her with a small nod. In truth, he feels absolutely fucking ridiculous in this outfit of his. He's supposed to be Ken, as in Barbie's Ken, but he doesn't think he exactly looks the part.

But you argued he does. He's blonde, he's named Kento, and he's oh so very handsome. Your words, not his. And so, of course, he agreed, albeit his reluctance.

“How have you been, Shoko-san?” Nanami inquires, hoping to divert her attention from his incongruous appearance.

"I've been good," she says, Shoko extinguishes her cigarette against the stone wall with an insouciant flick, her gaze sweeping from his exposed chest to the opulent fur draping him. "Did you lose a bet or something?"

"I do not engage in wagers," he says. "It's imprudent," he remarks.

Shoko smiles, ever so slightly. It's been years and yet some things don't change. She may not have an intimate understanding of him, not really, but she did know he would never show up in such an outfit, or in fact, any halloween outfit.

"It’s because of her, isn’t it?" Shoko probes.

He feels another of wave of chill wind hit chest, noticing the lack of a cigarette in her hand. Maybe she threw it in the bin while he was looking away. He doesn't say anything.

Shoko's expression changes now, and she smiles. He can't think of the last time he's seen her smile. She brings a hand up, placing it on his shoulder. “She’s a nice girl.”

“She is,” is all he says before Shoko pulls out another cigarette, as she vanishes back into the door.

There’s so many words to describe you, Nanami thinks. Nice is one that stands true, but it only really scratches the surface.

There’s so many words to describe you. So, so many but he can barely think of any as you walk towards him.

You're adorned in a tiny pink and white dress, the edges of your skirt just about hitting your upper thighs. And you're walking towards him with a sweet sweet smile. You look pretty.

"You look beautiful," he manages to utter as you draw near.

You leave a soft peck against his cheeks, "Thank you. You look beautiful as well," you move back to give his outfit a look.

"So, now you're taunting me. All after begging me to wear this shitty costume," he says.

"I didn't beg," you frown with a squint. You didn't beg. All you did was call him handsome, and he conceded.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," he says, as he holds out his hand for you, you stretch your hand out to loop yours into his.

Your free hand reaches for your phone, opening a QR code up, so the security could scan it.

"But you look handsome," you say as your hands shift from his forearms to his hand, as you pull him into the crux of the party. And so, he stops grumbling because as he's mentioned before — it's really all it takes from you.

The party scene is not quite what he expected, he was expecting chaos and sticky floor, but it's a bit lax and he can actually hear his thoughts out loud, even though he wishes nothing more than to turn them off now. Because you looks so fucking cute in your outfit, and every time you sit, your skirt rides up — just a little — to reveal your thighs, and he finds himself wishing he could just take you back home. He wants to leave.

No, he needs to leave.

Self restraint has always been one of Nanami's strong suits. But with you, it's always faded to dust.

His first kiss with you happened on a whim, it wasn't planned or anything. He saw you sitting outside on a park bench, on a normal forgettable park bench, and he thought you looked pretty. And so, he leaned in for a kiss.

He then met you days later for your third date, but he could barely let you get past your front door. The dinner reservation had gone to waste, but he just couldn't help himself, you looked too good in your dress.

"Let's leave," he says, bending down to whisper in your ears as you take a sip from your glass.

"What? No," you protest, a soft frown marring your features. "We just got here."

Mirroring your frown, he presses, "But I want to leave now."

He can't help but think about how unlike himself he sounds, he sounds like a child begging for a treat. You could sternly tell him you want to stay, and he'd listen, none too alike to a child.

"Hey," he hears a gruff voice from beside you.

It's a man, dressed in a military outfit, but neither of you know him, at least to his knowledge. He turns to look at you and he confirms the same because you're looking back at him with a similar expression.

"Can we help you?" you ask.

"I know you're dressed as Barbie," the man says. "But I think you're missing wings because you look like an angel."

Apart from the fact that the compliment is just too wordy. Nanami thinks he's pissed because this man has no etiquette, Nanami's hand had been clinging to your waist all night, so what made him think he could come over and hit on you?

But most of all, what pisses him off is that he's not wrong.

"Well, I'm Barbie and Barbie has a Ken so," you say, turning to him and he could swear your eyes twinkled just then.

The stranger persisted, with a chuckle, "Some Barbies have G.I. Joe boyfriends. You should ask my little sister."

Before you can respond, arms encircle your waist, pulling you close to Nanami. "Not this one." His words are curt and final, "Now, leave."

At that the G.I Joe guy's eyes widens, before he wordlessly takes his leave.

And that's all it takes from Nanami to take your glass from your hand before he leaves it on an unoccupied table with a loud clink. He guides your hand into his.

"We're leaving," he says plainly as you nod.

—

Your hands slide to Nanami's neck, and you pull. Your jaw flex as your mouths move. You're so used to his languid movements, that his quick movements leave you reeling.

His torso is completely flush against yours as he lifts you off the ground, still kissing you as he walks to close the front door shut.

Your ankles hook around his back, his hands slide down to grip the undersides of your bare thighs.

It doesn't take too long for him to drop you onto your bed, he quickly takes fur coat off, as he's coming back down to kiss you.

You taste like mint cranberry with a tinge of alcohol remnants around your lips, he thinks.

You cart your fingers through his undercut, before tugging on the roots of the hair above.

He parts away from you now, and this time he slows down. Not because he needs it, but because he doesn't always act this way, he's not always this harsh with his movements, he loves treating you with soft caresses and gentle grips, but there are times like this where you just bring out a different, more untamed side of him.

You take his headband off, as your hands stay on his hair, but this time you play with it, carding through. You know he's thinking, and you know what he's thinking about.

"Kento," you say, soft as a whisper.

He hums. "Are you jealous of the little G.I Joe man?"

Little.

"Why would I be jealous of him?" he asks, as though you've insulted him by implying so. He admits it pissed him off, he admits there is a strange, more concerning side of him that wishes he could keep you all to himself, that he could keep you away from eyes that could see your beauty, but truly, he doesn't worry about other people much. He has all his faith in you.

"It did annoy me," he says. He bends down, leaving a soft kiss forehead.

And that's the last of his softness for you today, he comes back up. "Open," he says, his thumb grazing over your chewed up bottom lip.

And you do, as you often do, your mouth opens, and your eyes stare up at him, wide and waiting with devotion he can only think of deserving at times like this.

Nanami purses his lips and hocks a glob of spit directly into your mouth, as you swallow.

He pushes your legs apart. He bends down, placing the softest kisses all around your neck, "You're so good to me," he says as you groan in tandem.

His hands move up and down, tracing inconsequential patterns before they go up to tug at the straps of your underwear before he pulls them down your legs.

Nanami moves back from your body, your skirt is bunched up to your waist, and you sit upright as you stare down at him in all of your half-naked glory. It takes merely one look at your face— your lips ajar, your hair mussed, your stare hazy — for him to decide he should be on his knees for you.

His knees hit the ground, and his hands come to hold your oustered foot.

His lips come down to press a steady kiss to the arch of your foot as he maintains a painstakingly unwavering eye contact with your eyes.

Slowly, his kisses move higher. He presses the second one just past your ankles, his lips touching the flexing muscles of your calves. With his kiss, your muscles relax.

And then he moves even more higher to the sensitive skin behind your knees, it's ticklish almost so your toes curl to suppress the sensation. And then finally, he settles, he dedicates some time, stopping to leave more than a few kisses to your inner thighs.

Now as his face remains near your inner thighs, Nanami can’t resist, and he sucks twin hickeys onto each side of your thighs. His thumb coming to trace his work of art, as his eyes come back to find your eyes. His brown eyes entrapping you in place.

For a solid minute, Nanami can't do nothing but stare at your pretty cunt. You refuse to squirm but every time he does this, it makes you feel squeamish and seen, you feel the need to kick off and run away. His warm breath dances over the sensitive skin, and you squirm — just a little, begging for the return of his mouth.

He smears his mouth against your cunt with open mouth kisses. Wet trails of his spit glister in the wake of his lips. He uses his fingers to pinch at your hood until your clit peeks out for him.

“You're so good to me Kento baby,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” Nanami asks. He likes hearing it every time, he asks you over and over and over again, until it's all you can seems to say.

You nod eagerly, "Yeah," you say with a soft gulp.

His hand continued to toy with your clit, your hips bucking greedily against the anchor of his hands at your hips, begging for more pressure, more, more, more. And it's just like him to give you more and beyond.

He moves in again — his tongue to his nose both buried in between your legs, as he laps and sucks on until finally your thighs start to show its very first quiver.

With that he moves, focusing his attention on your clit, he is persistent and needy in the way he moves, like he's a starved and depraved little thing. It's so unlike his usual self, so you commit it to memory every chance you get.

The foot that was once laying limp on his shoulder, now clenches, drawing him closer and closer by the neck with every move he continues to make. He can tell you are going cum soon.

It's the part he commits to memory— the way your hips arc, humping to get what you need to fly over the edge, as your eyes are shut with pleasure.

And you come into his mouth at one consequential contact, he relishes that familiar tang as he laps it all up.

He wipes his mouth with one hand and he looks up to you, you look at him and a quiet moment passes by, he can hear a vehicle outside, making it's way across the road.

And then you break out into soft chuckles, it comes out restrained because you're just so out of breath.

You move to the ground, your hand hitting the ground beside him, you're still breathing heavily as you force him to take your place on the bed.

Your hands settle on his thighs, as you caress it his high from over his pants. You look up, as you reach for his belt. "Your turn now, Kento baby."

—

“Tell me why it annoyed you,” you murmur, punctuating your sentence with a small yawn.

The warmth of the bath makes him feel even more drowsy than he’s been feeling, but this feels too nice to wake up and make or even order dinner.

Nanami lies with his back propped in the bath, his knees are spread, sitting against the bathtub to fit your body. Your back lays warm and wet against his chest, and the crown of your head just below his chin. His hands hold your breasts in each palm, slowly caressing your nipples.

Maybe it's because he's feeling drowsy. Maybe it's because you've drained him of his all his energy tonight, but he speaks up. “I guess, I just want you all to myself sometimes."

"Of course, you do. I'm a catch," you say with a giggle.

Nanami tweaks your nipple, and you squeal. The water around him sloshes over the edge of the bathtub, drenching the mat as you move in his hold.

“You can be cocky sometimes,” Nanami says mournfully.

You laugh, and the vibration of your chest shifts your breasts in his hands. "I am yours though," you say. Sweet as you are, he feels like you have to say this to him, you have to reassure him constantly. He doesn’t think he could just know this, as blind faith or by the look in your eyes.

Nanami may look a man confident of his abilities and status, but with you, he thinks you could do so much better. You deserve more than half-truths, and repressed staggering feelings, and so he needs to hear it

"You are," he says. "I guess it's just odd then."

"It's not," your response is immediate. "I understand."

"You do?" he asks.

"Yeah, did you see the number of women looking at you today?" you say, and there's a hint of agitation there, and Nanami hates to admit it but it does something to him. To have this knowledge that you could even care that much for him.

"I didn't see them," he says moments later when you’re both in bed. You nestle in deeper against his chest, barely awake at all. I only see you.

"I know," you smile, and he feels it against his chest.

#genuinely hate the headers and the format of it all but this is the best i could do ://#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader fluff

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harmonysanreads · 6 days

Note

sunday with a singer! darling, one who had escaped from him almost seven years ago, and disappeared off the face of the galaxy. imagine his reaction when he gets word of a famous belobogian band on the radio soon after it’s connections to the IPC were restored, comprised of a woman named serval landau, and a *very* familiar young woman, with an even more familiar voice.

- (…could i be ✨ anon?)

Curtain Call

yandere!sunday x reader

cw(s) : yandere, written before 2.2

wc : 2.6k

You have the power of democracy by your side ✨ anon and I have no choice but to adhere to public demand :] Even though you mentioned a female!reader, the direction of the narrative didn't necessitate that specification, so the reader is gender-neutral! But they have been called ‘babygirl’ once.

“How can the bird that is born for joy

Sit in a cage and sing?”

— William Blake

You've avoided all shades of white and blue since the dawn of this day.

Serval regarded your pertinacity with a voiceless breadth of intrigue, before yielding with little to no resistance. A smidgen of guilt had briefly permeated your consciousness upon the vague shadow of a pout on her face, you recalled her enthusiasm passed through plans of matching outfits on your debutante from days now labeled as the near past. She picked herself up quickly though, her free-spirited ideals would not be compromised by some mere color choice.

It was difficult to not admire her. Lamentably, it is much easier to cradle the preachings of an unrestrained life than to actually act upon them — and by doing so, shouldering the frigid reality that came with such a life. As a child of frozen terrains although, frigidity must be Serval's playground, you eventually conclude. That is hardly the case for you, but you'd rather swallow whole chunks of ice than pin the blame on yourself alone for that apparent incapability.

You aren't at fault for your paranoia in embracing freedom, but you are resolved enough to try breaking away from its clutches. But just as tattoos sink deep beneath skin, that anxiety stubbornly clings to your psyche and the memories of the past nurture and allow it to fester. Which is why, you must avoid any shades of white and blue, at least until the dawn of tomorrow graces Belobog. Be it a superstition with no rational ground or scientific explanation, you decide to believe firmly in your gut.

The walls of the makeshift back-room muffle the chorus of the crowd outside, but it is enough to comfort you that your long held wish did come true. The single light bulb hanging beyond the door of the room serves as the sole source of luminescence, although it is barely helpful, the light bounces off from your back and reflects a scarcely tangible silhouette in the mirror of the dressing table. Glitters of dust floating around are illuminated by that light, abandoned furniture peek beneath their veils from your peripheral — they exclaim what this room's previous purpose had been.

Neither the modest setting nor the small trinkets spread across the dressing table come close to what you had a taste of ; glimmering surfaces, brands of beauty products worth a man's life savings and silks of no contender would mock this shack, if they could. But your heart soaks in solace whenever that irritatingly bright light flickers and mellowed cheers of the crowd permeate the room's thin walls, not because you lack taste in life, but because you recognize the futility of vanity.

“You did amazing there, babygirl!”

Your vision stutters at the impact of firm touch, you feel arms rest atop your decolletage, a shadow cloaks your reflection in the mirror. The cool touch of metal upon your left shoulder and a distinct streak of blue masquerading among blond locks of hair draw out a breath of relief from your lungs. But a faint twist engulfs your gut the very next second, you recall asking for a moment of quietude vividly.

“I don't think my performance was as great as you say, Serval. And whatever I achieved, it wouldn't have been possible without you guys.” your fingers twiddle with your sleeves, your eyes find interest in an abandoned nail polish.

You peek up in time to meet the rockstar's stare through the mirror, with some wrestling with the light, her disapproval shines through to your eyes.

“Nonsense, you were the star of today's show. Give yourself some credit, would ya?” your cheek soaks in the pinch before your brain can decode her words, you muffle a whine in protest.

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry.” your hand quickly soothes over the tempered skin when her fingers retreat, that's the extent of ‘retaliation’ you offer Serval, having accustomed yourself to her spontaneity in the interim of your stay under her care.

“I saw you look... pretty unnerved after the performance, so I came to check.” you scratch your cheek, eyes darting upwards to find her face shielded by your hair. You cannot pinpoint why, but for a second it seemed like she struggled to find footing with her phrasing of words. You've never heard her falter, at least in speech, but the waves of conversation swallow that momentary observation just as quickly.

Instead of being candid, you take a different turn, “You know, I wasn't lying about being grateful to you all. To perform on a stage without any rules was a long held dream of mine,” you feel gooseflesh bloom across your arms as tip-toeing touch descends to your sides, something within tempts you to curl in on yourself but you force your breath to finish. “If it hadn't been for your help, I would never succeed in fulfilling it.”

Serval hums in understanding, the timbres of it traverses from your skull and extends to your nerves. Her arms rest snuggly around your waist and you swallow dryly. Serval always wrapped her arms around your shoulders whenever she felt the need to and the fact that it made your head nearly spiral with questions didn't require to be stated. Only now do you reckon the slumbering atmosphere, without the jeer and cheer of the audience, you felt Belobog's cold biting into the tips of your fingers. You told everyone to not disturb you — your mind echoes without clarification.

“Is it because of that husband of yours?”

Your shoulders tense and for a litany of reasons, most obscure enough to be dismissed as misnomers produced by your instincts, none but one potent enough to be addressed. “Well yes… I told you about a man, but I don't remember specifying that it was a ‘husband’ responsible for my situation.”

Your words materialize as half confused and half laden with caution, you'd told Serval a few things about your predicament — nothing groundbreakingly detailed, just enough to earn a portion of her empathy. It kills you to follow tactics that enticed you to your doom, but what is life, if not a series of trial and error? It's best to apply the teachings of a manipulator than to continue being manipulated for eternity. But of course, you'll admit, such carefully taken steps still don't lessen the likelihood of meeting a dead-end to zero. How unfortunate.

It's Serval's turn to tense, but it's so quick you're left questioning whether it really happened. “Ah, but there was a ring on your right ring finger when you first came here! And the ‘man’ in your stories didn't seem to be different persons. So, I took a guess…”

An awkward chuckle leaves the rockstar's lips and you blink. She's right, you were still wearing your wedding ring when you came here ; an amateur mistake, you should've left it at some abstruse corner of the Dewlight Pavilion. You glance up at your reflections on the mirror, Serval was now mimicking your previous antics, a painted nail against her cheek albeit, the opposing light veiled her expression from recognition. One of her arms was still around your waist, loosely this time.

“I didn't say anything offending, did I?” the mechanic mutters tentatively. You take a deep breath and exhale, vacillating between the multitude of scenarios conjured by your lingering paranoia. But if it's Serval, you give it more thought, there was no tangible reason as to why she of all people would bring this up with malicious intent — or at least, none that you could come up with. She was likely merely concerned for your well-being, a big sister's instincts perhaps.

“Not at all,” the three words are uttered with more difficulty than needed but the effort is proved worth it when she relaxes and returns to embrace you with gusto.

This time you can feel her touch vividly across the bare skin of your midriff, a reminder of your present dress up automatically causes blood to rush to your face. The matching crop-top with Serval was hardly the most revealing thing someone had worn in this universe, but it was the boldest you'd been with your attire. You think you saw her gaze tilting at the sight but the only way to affirm it would make things further awkward. As you melt upon recalling that you'd sung your lungs out with this on in front of a crowd, the rockstar chimes in again.

“Ah right, I almost forgot why I actually came here. I have a gift for you!” you blink out of your stupor to hear shuffles, a bottle of hairspray is knocked to the ground due to her movements. The object clamors down and rolls a few feet away but Serval pays it no attention, you quirk a brow at her sudden briskness. “Close your eyes.” she lulls sweetly, you obey despite your state of disorientation.

You feel the faint brushes of her fingers first, then a noticeable weight around your neck, fastened a little too tightly. After she beckons you to open your eyes, you scrutinize the object through your reflection on the mirror and recognize it to be… a choker. It's heavier than what you recall chokers to be, its body is painted in baby blue and when you turn your head the light bounces off its surface to reveal golden outlinings. Three small wings curl around the white tassel hanging from the middle, you find the wings to be unnervingly soft when your fingers brush across them.

The choker looked expensive, despite its somewhat gaudy appearance and it didn't seem like something aligning with Serval's tastes. But most importantly, there's blue and white in it — the two colors you'd been stubbornly avoiding. Your mind spirals, you clearly remember telling Serval that you didn't want to see those two colors today — or, did you? Perhaps it was your mind weaving its own narratives in the flurry of adrenaline? A chill rears its grotesque head, a panic you can't quite push down despite your mind adapting to give her the benefit of the doubt, your breaths lapse unevenly.

“For being such a darling member of Mechanical Fever, a token of our friendship. I didn't know how else to thank you, so I got this instead.” Serval's voice yanks you from the edge of a panic attack, you force yourself to breathe deeply. You turn around when you notice the absence of her shadow, finding her retreating into the shadow of the half ajar door.

You remain seated on the juncture between light and shadow, returning to face the mirror after the rockstar settles on a stool. “I should be the one saying that and… you didn't have to give me this, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless.” your thumb and index fingers twiddle with the pure white tassel.

Her words seem to make you forget about your earlier paranoia, nostalgia cascades down your soul as you recall the fond memories inherent to Belobog. Destiny's game is truly difficult to comprehend, to think you'd find an actual home so far from your supposed one.

You add without waiting for her reply, “When I first came here, I was so scared and paranoid. I couldn't sleep the first night and I wanted nothing more than to flee the next morning. I really mean it when I say I couldn't make it without your and the others' help.”

Your palm cradles the beat of your existence, the thin fabric of the crop top does little to muffle your heart's clamorous prance.

“Thank you, thank you so much for everything.” your pour as much gratitude from the river coursing through the recesses of your soul in those words. Your chest constricts as you sigh, you remember all the faces that are now known as familiar and random instances buried deep in your memories. Perhaps it's the naturally cold weather of this planet that plays a part, but you furrow your brows as inexplicable sorrow engulfs your heart.

“I, too, hope that you've had a wonderful experience on this planet.”

A much younger you used to judge the victims of stories for choosing to freeze than to flee in the face of candid danger, vowing to not follow in their footsteps should you meet such a predicament one day. Your heart would shatter to incorrigible bits if it hadn't been so viciously twisted, you realize how futile promises are at the thin line separating life and death.

Your body flinches from its hunched position to meet watchful golden eyes, shielded by the door's shadow. You blink a multitude of times, as if that'd make his poised presence disappear, as if that'd affirm that you were simply in the grips of anxiety and Serval would return to reprimand you back to reality.

The warmth drains from your body when he's still there, sitting in front of you with a mocking serenity — you've never hated the vice grip he maintains on his composure more than this moment. Why, how, when and what conjoins his name to frame a myriad of questions, each being answered by none other than you the very next second. Your ears twitch when you catch voices at the end of the hallway, the actual Serval and others must be retreating. You might be a deer inches away from the tiger's jaw, but you'll not go down without a fight, at least.

“If you're planning to scream, I'd advise against that.” Sunday calmly states, your breath catches in your throat. “The choker on your neck has a shock mechanism and it can be activated in various ways. Namely, any time you raise your voice above the coded decibels and the voltage will increase the louder you scream.”

Your hand flies upwards towards the cursed choker and you wrestle a breath in disbelief, you were made a fool of and quite exquisitely. You realize you should've listened to your gut instincts when you still had the choice. Sunday raises a gloved palm when you restlessly tug at the thing, “Don’t bother, it can only be taken off with a password.”

A password only he knows, you conclude. It was not news to you that his sanity is loose from the hinges of his soul, but never would you have expected him to go this far. You glare at your husband, though it looks more like a gazelle's helpless stare as it struggles in the jaws of a predator. The voices from the hallway disappear entirely, you'd told them not to look for you so they'll not return, you feel your eyes moisten as you realize you're stuck alone with Sunday.

“Why—” you choke.

“I understand that you must have a lot of questions,” his words are half resignation and half cheap empathy. “But it is not your turn to speak, for there are more pressing matters at hand.”

Sunday stands up, brows scrunching at the dust floating around the room. “The matter of your possible unfaithfulness is one thing,” his hand grips the handle of the door and you flinch. “But performing in front of so many people without any consideration of how far it'll spread, or choice of attire,” your body erupts in shudders upon feeling his pointed stare, the expanse of your exposure finally registering.

“Truly unbefitting of my spouse.”

But it's not his judging gaze that has your nerves frayed, it's the hints of genuine disappointment that borders on anger leaking through his words that makes you feel parched, makes you want the earth split in half and take you from this situation. Your experience with Sunday has taught you that he has the patience of a saint, but none of those memories reassure you that it's boundless. You realize that you've never actually seen his face contorted in ire, no matter how defiant you'd been. Aeons, you wish it stayed that way forever.

As the shadow of the closing door engulfs your form and leaves the rest to interpretation, the last thing you see are his darkened golden eyes — you're certain that, that was the instance the last spirited part of you died.

rest in piece i guess

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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sprout-fics · 9 months

Note

do you think there is tension between the pack and her after her heat stops? I can only imagine she's extremely flustered

Oh Absolutely-

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Five: Interest)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn

Masterlist

You wake on the final day of your heat alone

You fell asleep on Gaz's chest, panting into his neck with fever, and it was only once he scruffed you, kneaded your gland with his thumb and whispered husky little affirmations in your ear that you finally calmed

It doesn't take you long to figure out that you're finally (mostly) back to normal. You're no longer feverish, your head feels clear, and though your body is exhausted, your joints no longer hurt, your head doesn't throb

By some mercy, you aren't devastatingly horny anymore either

Your bed is littered with clothes that aren't yours, and you can tell by the scent alone who they belong to. Your body remembers the press of Ghost and Price inside you, hovering over you in the desert heat as they tried to calm the horrific sickness inside you, flush your system free of toxins

You've never held it against them. They saved your life, even if it was through means out of your control. Yet now your legs clench at the memory, the distant wish that somehow they might do it again.

It's awkward as hell, and by the next day when you're back to duties you do your best to avoid all of them, head ducked and skittering out of sight in a mixture of shame and bashfulness at the desire carving it's way inside you

It's wrong. Their your commanding officers. Your superiors. What they did was simply a favor, making sure you weren't horrifically sick and or dying. Nothing more than that

When Soap calls for you in the mess hall, when Gaz tries to sidle up to you at the firing range, when Ghost postures behind you after drills to ward off other alphas, when Price pulls you aside- you find ways to slink out of sight, face too warm and eyes turned down

You know they notice, you know they're confused, maybe even hurt, but you try to tell yourself it's for the best. You just need to tough it out for a few more weeks before you're back on suppressants again

You can't avoid them forever though, and eventually you're summoned on another mission with them

Price catches you by the arm before you load up, eyes you and forces you to meet his gaze before inquiring softly about you, and you tremble under his scrutiny, insist "I'm fine, captain."

You can see in the tight draw of his lips he doesn't believe you, and you can't blame him. Yet he releases you, strides past you onto the plane

You're in Al-Mazrah, hunting down an ex-pat who defected to AQ, one who holds valuable intel that you can't allow to fall into the wrong hands

It's a simple mission. Capture, do not kill. A hunting expedition

One that turns wrong too quickly

You're clearing a building when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye. It moves too fast to trace, and before you can aim at it a arm wraps around your chest, a hand moving to your face too late to silence your scream

Your attacker hisses in a language you don't understand, but between the words you can make out a single one that is all too familiar

"Omega."

You freeze, feel dread wash icy through your veins before thrashing violently, trying to reach for the blade tucked in your tac vest

You don't get the chance, because the rush of your heart beat is deafened by a feral, roaring growl that echoes deep in the chest of a familiar form

Ghost.

The alpha rips the man from you, all but throws him against a wall so hard you hear something crack- unsure if it's bone or plaster

You tremble where you stand, shaken, forcing yourself to reach for your blade, when a hand settles gently on yours

"Stay."

The word is growled in a low, gruff order, one that reeks of alpha authority, and you look up to see Price's teeth bared in a sneer, watching as the alpha before he towers over the crumpled form of your attacker

Something inside you withers away gently, and in your shaken state you press into Price's side instinctively, watching your other alpha raise his weapon and fire once into the man's skull

Price's arm wraps around you reflexively, tucking you further into his side protectively

It shouldn't shake you, this. You've had far worse encounters than this one, but the echo of the man's voice in your ears, purring a low, threatening growl resounds endlessly in your thoughts. "Omega."

He was going to hurt you

He never got the chance

Ghost strides over to you, long steps quickly closing the distance, and in any other context you'd retreat from him, his towering posture indicative of a threat

Now, however, you lean up into his hands as they cup the sides of your face, turn it back and forth to look for wounds. One finger grazes across your scent gland with intoxicating, familiar smell, and your knees wobble

"Solid?" Price asks you, and you force yourself to nod in reassurance

"S-solid." You answer despite the waver of your voice, and though both of them nod, they seem reluctant to release their hold on you

There's a distant part of your brain that slinks velvety across your thoughts, and you're unable for a moment to ignore the overwhelming instinct of warmth, safety, protection, shelter, Alpha-

"Easy, omega." Price soothes, and it snaps you back to yourself, realizing your want has somehow bled into your scent. You look to the captain, aghast, but there's only a fond amusement there that makes your heart flutter deep beneath your stomach

The rest of the mission goes smoothly, and you notice Price and Ghost sticking closer to you than usual. It's only once you get back to base, wash their scents from you that you realize

You're already theirs

#poly 141 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #omegaverse tf 141 #omegaverse cod #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse #drabbles #headcanons

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seospicybin · 7 months

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (15,7k words)

Author's note: Pls send my birthday wishes to your boyfriend. As always, enjoy and feel free to vent in my inbox :)

CHRIS: Nah, I wouldn't say I'm a playboy [shyly laughs] My best feature? My body [Shows off abs] I'm joking, [laughs] it's my dimples [smiles] I don't have a type. Looks are relative but there has to be a strong physical attraction [Smiles]

In this sunny weather, it wouldn't take long for Chan to get some color on his pale skin.

A little tan will help to make his sculpted abs more defined, especially on camera. He's been working out diligently to present his best look for this show.

Lust Island.

What possibly could this show be about? If he should draw any clues from the name of the show itself, he guesses there'll be physical contact involved in a pleasurable way.

The real reason he joined the show is not solely that he wants to get some action. He can get them anytime, anywhere when he wants to.

Bangchan wants to put himself out there and explore things outside of producing music. He wants to push himself out of his comfort zone. By comfort zone, he means his studio.

Once Bangchan puts his swimming trunks on though, he prepares himself, mentally and physically as his name gets called. It's his turn to enter the villa.

When he thinks about it again, it's not the first time he gets to be filmed, and being in front of the camera, there's no use for him to be nervous.

Bangchan laughs at his cowardly thought and puts on a perfect posture, standing straight and broadening his shoulders that are as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

Bangchan is right to be confident about himself because the girls like what they see when he walks in.

There are four of them waiting by the standing table with bottles of champagne in buckets of ice.

The other male guests are no competition to him, a few inches of height difference is nothing when he's confident with his looks.

He goes to introduce himself, giving side hugs to the male and a kiss on the cheek to the female guests. He does his trick to leave a lasting impression by holding their hands and looking them in the eyes as he says his name.

"You can call me Chris," he says with a smile.

She flutters her eyelids at him, a way to get his attention, and says her name, "I'm Lola!"

Lola is a gorgeous, dark-haired girl who speaks like she's half moaning, some men dig it but Chan, not really.

Chan turns to the other female guest and does the same, "Chris," he shortly introduces himself.

"Jane," she introduces back with a thick British accent and it's good to know that he's not the only one who owns pale skin.

"Love the accent," she says with a smile that showcases her perfect white teeth.

"Likewise," he immediately replies and grabs himself a glass of wine.

CHRIS: This is the first I have been surrounded by this many beautiful people in one place.

To say that he's not the slightest bit attracted would be a lie.

But there are only two of them for now and there'll be more to come, hopefully, there'll be one that attracts him. For now, there's not enough attraction.

However, Lola is refilling his glass without him asking and checking him up and down, doing it not so subtly only tells him that she's attracted to him.

"Thank you," he mutters and has a toast with her.

Two more female guests are entering the villa, one is a stunning blonde with dazzling blue eyes and the other is a tall goddess with golden skin.

The boys are howling in excitement as the selection has expanded. Chan, trapped in the corner with Lola, waves his hand at them.

The blond girl approaches her to hug him, "I'm Dani."

"Chris," he introduces with a smile.

"Australian, huh?" She guesses.

"Guilty!" He says, "What about you?"

"I'm Spanish," she answers which explains the sheer accent in her English, and proceeds to say something in her native language to him.

Once again, Chan doesn't have a type but hearing Dani speak in Spanish does something to him.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, right?" She asks with a flirtatious smile.

"Not at all," he honestly answers and bursts into laughter.

CHRIS: Dani is undeniably gorgeous and so is Alicia, so is Lola, so is Jane... [chuckles]

Another two male guests enter and one of them is sucking all of the female's attention with a nice body, nice teeth, and a height that Chan doesn't have. But he wouldn't let it belittle him. Physical appearance is nothing without skill and Chan has both.

Everyone is waiting for the last guest to arrive and his glass is magically full again, he turns to the side to see Lola smiling at her.

Chan takes the bottle from her to refill her glass for her, he gets interrupted by the loud cheer of everyone welcoming the last guest into the villa.

"Hi, you sexy bunch!" You greet.

The guy standing next to him, who he believes his name is Iain, puts his hand on his shoulder and gushes at the sight of you, "Man, she's so hot!"

Chan agrees with him. He notices the confident strides and a scintillating smile, he likes seeing those things on a girl.

You start going around, introducing yourself with a cheek-to-cheek kiss at the end of the introduction. When it gets to his turn, Chan is already prepared to impress you.

You lean in close as you ask his name, "Hi, what's your name?"

Chan is gobsmacked by the strong eye contact you're making with him, making him lose his train of thought for a while.

"Chris," he answers.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in closer, "Sorry, can you tell me again?"

He understands that you can't really hear him with everyone chatting to each other all at once mixed with the sound of the waves crashing in the background.

It comes to his advantage to lean in close to your ear and tell him his name, "It's Chris."

"Nice to meet you, Chris!" You say but instead of a cheek-to-cheek kiss, you put your hand around his neck and pull him for a quick hug.

The hug only lasts for a few seconds but he's happy with what he got. He agrees that physical appearance doesn't matter much but your body, oh... it's enough to send his mind wanders so far off from his head.

"Gorgeous!" He calmly beams, it sounds strange because it doesn't match the excitement he has when he looks at you.

Chan doesn't want to come on strong on the first meeting, he knows that he has a lot of time to get to know you and vice versa.

"Thank you," you mutter with a smile.

CHRIS: Bright eyes, cute smile... I think I finally found my type. [Grins]

Chan hurriedly grabs the bottle of champagne the second he sees you grab a glass. He delightfully fills your glass with the bubbly wine.

"What a gentleman!" You exclaim with a smile.

He fills the glass just right to not overflow it, "The bar is that low, huh?"

You lift the glass but not taking a sip yet, "I usually go for the bad boys," you share.

Chan is aware that he doesn't have the typical look of a bad guy, that would be Jace with his sleeve tattoos and pierced eyebrow. He feels the need to show you that sometimes what's inside doesn't match with the exterior.

He fiercely looks at you and refills his glass next, "I don't look like one?"

You seem to hesitate to give him an honest answer, "Oh, well..."

Chan tips his head to the side and holds intense eye contact with you, "I can be bad if I want to."

"Yeah?" You say with a tone that sounds a little condescending to him.

That only motivates him to prove you wrong but he keeps his calm and shrugs in response.

You bring your glass close to your mouth and ask, "How bad?"

He grins and runs his tongue along the front row of his teeth, he takes a sip of his wine to make you wait for an answer.

"Why don't you find out?" He dares you with a sly smile.

One corner of your mouth raises higher than the other, forming a killer smirk on your face. You clink your glass with him and say, "Can't wait to find out!"

CHRIS: The eyes, Gosh! There was so much eye contact, it feels like a foreplay already [laughs]

Chan has no clue how the show is going to play out.

Is everyone going to mingle with each other and be free to do whatever they want for the next 30 days? It's possible because everyone is of age and signed the same contracts but he doubts it'll be that easy. It's a TV show, there's always a catch.

The day continues with a tour around the villa, everyone has seen the swimming pools and the small workout area down the beach so it's time to check inside.

Weirdly, everyone is excited about sharing the bedroom, probably because there are five beds and there are ten of them which means, everyone has to find a bed partner.

Chan's eyes dart at you who's sitting on the other bed with Luke, leaning back with your elbows propped against the mattress.

"Oh, it’s nice and quiet," Luke says, testing the bed by rocking it.

You're laughing as your hands fly to your chest, stopping your breasts from bouncing along with the bed.

While everyone else is joining in on the waves of laughter, Chan is busy assessing who else has their eyes on you. Iain is an easy guess but you'll go for someone like Jace, so he has to keep an eye on him too.

CHRIS: My eyes are set on a girl and uh... it's hard not to look at her so I refuse– [laughs] I refuse to share a bed with anyone else but her.

The boys are gathered on the beach and Chan doesn't know for what reason. He sits on the wooden bench next to Pierre with his blonde hair shining under the bright sun.

"Okay, let's cut the chit-chat!" Jace says.

His tattoed index finger is pointing at Luke, "You go first. Who's your number one?"

"Dani. Absolutely, Dani," Luke answers without a beat, and that only shows how keen he is to win her.

It's an open war, Chan reckons but it's good to know who he's up against so he can set a strategy and try to win.

It's Iain's turn and he simply answers, "Dani!"

So that means Chan's guess is incorrect yet it doubts him if Iain has no interest in you.

Sitting next to him, Pierre answers, "Alicia!"

Pierre then uneasily glances at Luke as he also chooses the same girl with him, "But also, Dani."

Luke scoffs at him and says, "She's cute, I know."

"Please, stop glaring at me!" Pierre jokingly says.

So far, there are three votes for Dani and that's not a surprise, she's one hell of an attractive girl, it just happens that she's not quite caught his attention like you do.

Pierre nudges Chan with his elbow, "Your turn, Chris!"

Chan confidently announces your name as his first choice and says it with a tint of possessiveness as if you were already his. He wants to let them know that he's going for what he wants and no one is going to get in between.

"What do you guys think of Lola?" Jace asks with a shit-eating grin.

Despite the tattoos that cover most of his back and chest, Jace is grinning as he asks everyone about his choice of girl.

"Lola is... Lola is cute," Chan says while rubbing his hands together in front of him.

Pierre agrees with him and nods, "Yeah, she's cute."

"I like Lola," Jace coyly admits.

Jace claps his hands together and points at the three men who are going for the same girl, "I see we have three men in a competition for Dani," he says.

Luke half-heartedly agrees, "The three of us are different so..."

It's a relief that Chan doesn't have any competition or that's what it seems, but he gets curious about the three men.

"Are you guys comfortable stepping on each other's toes?" He asks in pure curiosity.

"As long as Pierre doesn't step on me," Iain chimes in with a laugh, "Just look at his feet!"

All of them burst into laughter as Pierre lifts both feet into the air, showing everyone how big they are. He's a basketball player so that explains but Chan indeed doesn't want to be stepped on by those feet.

CHRIS: I say good luck and... may the best man win.

There's time left until everyone has to get ready for the welcome party tonight.

Chan can't relax yet just because he's the only one going after you. Two out of those three men will eventually have to choose another girl and he can't just leave it to luck, he needs to make some moves.

He goes to the dressing room only to find Lola and Jane in there, talking while fixing their make-up. Chan feels like interrupting so he goes to the bathroom next even though he's not sure he'll find you there.

He was too haste to think so, he finds you there leaning close to the mirror and dabbing lip balm on your plump lips. The shape your body takes as you bend over the sink, oh... he reminds himself to calm down.

"Hi," he sweetly greets you.

You see him through the reflection in the mirror and greet him back, "Hi!"

He walks over to the sink and leans his side against it, "How are you?"

You slowly turn to the side facing him while capping the tube of lip balm in your hand, "I'm good, great. You?

"Never been better," he answers.

You softly smile and put the lip balm back into a pouch, "So... What do you think going to happen tonight?"

The possibilities are endless but Chan settles on the simplest answer that fits his agenda, "What's going to happen is you and I share a bed."

You crack a low laugh and put one hand against the sink, "You want us to share a bed?"

But what he needs to hear is your answer, "What do you think?"

You consider it for a moment then say, "We'll see."

That's not an answer he wants, it's not even close to enough. Sure, Chan can play it cool but that's not who he is. Returning from the depth of his thoughts, he notices that you're checking him out from head to toe and doing it not so subtly.

Your eyes travel down his body and the next minute, you trap him in your eyes again.

"Are those real?"

"What?" He asks in confusion.

"Those abs," you say with a shy laugh.

He likes a confident girl but seeing you getting shy is endearingly cute.

"Who knows? It could be cake?!" You joke.

"Pinch it then!" He playfully dares you.

You hesitate for a moment, then gently put your fingertips on the sculpted muscles on his stomach and gasp in awe, "I can't even pinch it."

Keep running your fingertips on his skin and you playfully say, "It's so hard."

Standing this close to you with your hands on me is doing things to him. Chan swallows air and tries to keep it cool, "If you keep feeling my abs, I'm afraid it won't be the only thing that's hard."

You giggle yet you run your fingers down his abdomen, only stopping when they meet the waistband of his swimming trunks. He gets the urge to touch you in return and without needing to command, his hand automatically flies to your waist.

In this proximity, he can smell the fruity scent of your lip balm, sweet and enticing, making him want to taste it on your lips.

"Are you a good kisser?" He asks with his voice suddenly turning lower.

You slightly tilt your head to the side and flutter your eyelashes at him, "Why don't you find out?"

It's so attractive of you to say those words back to him in a low, sultry voice and make them weapons to weaken him. Just so you know, it works.

Chan bites his lower lip, impatient to crash them against yours. He puts his hand on the arch of your back, then slowly leans in closer, closer...

The sound of people coming to the bathroom shatters the moment, you laugh it off and gently push him away, "Try again later," you tell him.

You stop by the doorway and turn to look at him to add, "Only if you're lucky."

CHRIS: That! Right there! That's my type. [Nodding]

The boys are going down to the beach where the party is held.

The theme is Welcome to The Jungle and he dressed as his spirit animal, wolf. He shouldn't feel silly as everyone is also dressed in animal costumes.

The boys each take a glass of drink to fuel up for the night. Jace is the one leading by raising his glass high in the air, "Let's have some fun tonight!" He shouts.

Everyone else is following suit, raising their drinks high in the air and having a toast,

The contestants are only allowed to have three drinks max in one day so Chan doesn't need to worry about getting drunk. one drink is already enough to give him the courage to make a move on you tonight.

"There they are!" Luke says, pointing to the girls making their way down the stairs that lead to the beach.

Chan spots you right away, dressed in a costume of a bird with colorful fur and a pair of majestic wings. Suddenly, he feels like flying toward you.

He couldn't be any faster to get to your side and compliment you, "You're so beautiful!"

You brightly smile and make a pose for him, "Do you like it?"

"Spin for me!" He orders.

You do what he says, spinning on your feet and giggling as you almost stumble on your own foot.

Chan offers his hand to help you steady yourself and grins, "One beautiful love bird, aren't you?"

CHRIS: I'm on the hunt tonight! [Howls] [Laughs]

The music starts playing and everyone gets together in the middle, either dancing or drinking, or both. Chan can't keep his hands off of you ultimately because he was so close to getting a taste of it.

But that's okay, he likes playing this game of push and pull with you. He may have let you out of his arms but never out of his sight, you're only going as far as he let you.

Everyone is excited, a little tipsy, and sexually charged just in time to continue with a game. Lola takes the center and explains how the game works.

"Since we're all dressed like the animals we are..." she gets interrupted by Jace as he roars and bangs on his chest like the animal costume he's wearing.

"Each one of you will take turns to stand here then do your mating call and if any of you animals is attracted," she pauses to look at everyone before continuing, "You can kiss, bite, grab... whatever you want to do!"

It's an easy game to play and everyone is more than ready to answer some mating calls. Since Lola has taken the spot, she plays with her bunny ears and cutely hops on her feet like a rabbit but mewling like a cat.

Chan turns to Jace who's making eyes at her, crawling and walking like the animal he is dressed in, he playfully climbs her body and kisses her neck.

The others are responding with cheers and hoots, watching them going at each other's faces in front of them. It gets everyone impatient to take their turn.

The game is heating when Dani takes her turn, he can see that the three men in competition are getting ready to take their chance to kiss her and perhaps, try to be the best kisser of all.

Dani doesn't do a mating call of sorts, she just stands there and simply says, "Come and get it!"

Pierre dashes to get to her first and earns the first smooch, Iain and Luke are steadily waiting for their turn to kiss. While everyone else is enjoying the raunchy moment, Chan prepares himself because your turn is next. His eyes are following you as you walk to the appointed spot and turn to face everyone, you're laughing in giddy before trying to whistle as loud as you can.

Chan immediately gets up from his seat, but he hears a terrible lion roar from the other direction and sees Iain make his way to you.

He knows Iain still has an interest in you, but this will be his first and the last kiss he gets from you. He glares at Iain as he walks back to his seat.

Ignoring the rage inside him, Chan puts on his vicious eyes and shows his teeth, taking you by surprise as he sinks his teeth into your right breast, then your neck, and finally, your lips.

Iain kind of ruined this first kiss moment but Chan reminds himself that he'll not let anything get in the way of what he wants and this is what he wants. He holds your face with both hands and presses his lips on yours, he greedily kisses you and tugs your lips between his teeth before letting go.

Jace howls the loudest for him as Chan returns to his seat with a triumphant smile, he can taste the win on your lips, he can tell you fancy him more than Iain.

Chan finally takes his turn after Luke and he knows what he needs to do, he's going to howl like a wolf calling for you. He looks at you and says, "Come on!"

You're slyly smiling at him, pretending not to want to come forward but he knows, he knows you want to.

"I know you want it," He fiercely says, addressing you with his eyes.

You get up and break into running at him, not stopping until your body crashes into him in which he gladly welcomes you into his arms.

This is his chance to redo the first kiss so he kisses you, a little gentler than the previous one yet with the same passion. He puts his hands around your waist and without letting go of the kiss, he hoists you, then wraps your legs around his waist.

You yelp in surprise, but that only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth and kiss you deeper as he holds you tightly.

"I'm going to take this bird home," he says after the.

Chan carries you back to your seat like the winning prize you are. He then silently glances at Iain with a bragging smile plastered on his face.

CHRIS: That's right, everyone. Kindly take your hands off of her because she's mine!

A lady walks in and Chan assumes she's the host of the show. She smiles and waves at everyone before talking, "Is everyone having fun?"

Everyone answers with a loud cheer and whistles, showing the host a lot of excitement. They're partying, drinking and they got to grab or bite or kiss, nothing to complain about.

"Okay, okay, I hear you all!" She responds with a knowing laugh.

She claps her hands together and turns on her feet to show a big box behind her, "If you look here, I have a surprise..."

Everyone is cooing in curiosity at the sight of it. Looking at the size of the box, it's safe to say that it fits a person inside.

The host has to wait for everyone to calm down to continue talking, "I am excited to announce that we have a surprise visit to start the show and make it special!"

Jace is whooping the loudest while the girls are whispering, wildly guessing by throwing famous people into the sentences.

"Are you ready to take the party to the next level?" She asks everyone.

"YEAH!!!" Everyone collectively answers.

"Okay then!" She flicks her fingers as a cue, then steps aside.

CHRIS: Whatever it is. Whoever it is. I'm ready. Give it to me!

Chan turns to look at you and asks, "What do you think?"

You shake your head and grin in excitement, "I don't know but it's exciting!"

Everyone is craning their necks and waiting in anticipation as they turn the lights around the box for a dramatic entrance. The door of the box is swinging opening little by little, it's dark to see what's inside, and then the thing inside lights up and chimes.

"OH! FUCK NO!!!" Dani screams and covers her face with both hands.

Chan turns to the side to look at you and you look as devastated as Dani, "You got to be kidding me!" You mutter under your breath.

He looks around and it seems like he's the only one who doesn't get a grasp of what's truly happening. He looks at the cone inside the box again and confusingly asks, "Is that... a speaker?"

You shake your head and whine, "No... It's Lana!"

Lana who? And why is everyone looking either mad or devastated? Would it be embarrassing if he told everyone that he doesn't watch TV or streaming movies like most people?

"Hello and welcome to the retreat!" The cone speaks which Chan has just learned is named Lana.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships," she continues.

Luke gets offended and coughs, "Welp. She's not wrong."

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Lola brushes her hair to the back in frustration and groans, "But I don't want that!"

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

It takes Chan a minute to process that. On the contract it says that he'll spend a month shooting the show, he does the math in his head and his mouth hangs open.

"Nah, nah, nah," Pierre repeatedly chants in denial.

Lana continues with a list of things everyone can't do in the retreat, "No kissing."

You drop your head on his shoulder at the mention of that and mewl.

"No heavy petting."

Jace drops onto his knees and rests his head on Lola's knee.

"No sex of any kind."

His ears perked and his head snaps in your direction, he gets why you're devastated because now he's just as devastated.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Jace groans like he's in indescribable pain with his head tilts up looking at the night sky.

"What does that mean?" Jane innocently asks.

"No masturbating," Chan answers to her since everyone else is too busy mourning on their own.

"No–No flicking the beans, you mean?" She asks with eyes widening in horror.

Chan nods in sympathy and he can feel the agony already. He surely can pass a month without having sex but not getting a release from touching his own body, that's the sadistic part of it all.

CHRIS: I never... I don't think I can go for weeks without— [drops head] [sighs]

"I don't think I can do it," You mutter to him with a painful smile.

Jace is being dramatic once again by saying, "I want to call my mom and tell her to come pick me up."

The tattoos and piercings on his body aren't really reflecting Jace's inner self. It shows an example that a true bad boy doesn't necessarily have to look like it.

Lana cuts off everyone's moans and groans with further announcements.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

That gets everyone in spirit again and Jace immediately sits back on his seat next to Lola, "Cancel it. No need to call my mom!" He shouts at no one.

With that much money, Chan starts to think of things he can buy with it, some producing kits, a new sofa for his studio, and a recording mic he's been wanting to buy. His train of thought is derailed when Lana continues talking.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Okay, that's so presumptuous of Chan to think that he'll win that money remembering that he's in a retreat with other horny people. There's no way that the amount of money will stay the same at the end of the retreat.

"Welcome to the retreat!" Lana concludes and leaves with another chime.

CHRIS: I met Lana and I understand why everyone is fuming [Laughs]

The night takes a hard turn and ends the party for good.

To give the girls time to change because they need more time with the make-up and costumes, the boys are lounging outside by the terrace.

"Oh, there she is!" Iain points at the cone that is now put in every corner of the villa.

Luke leans into the cone and commands, "Lana, go away!"

Chan bursts into laughter and leans back in his seat, "Dude, she's not Siri!"

Pierre is too big to sit on the armrest of the sofa, Chan makes a space for him and tells him to sit there.

"Who's going to sleep with who?"

The three competing guys are looking at each other, it's still unclear which one of them Dani is going to choose.

"Why don't we let them choose?" Jace calmly says that he knows for sure that Lola is going to sleep with him.

And Chan has nothing to worry about because he knows you're going to choose him.

The boys take their pick of bed and Chan chooses the one in the corner next to the big window. He's lying on the bed with hands tucked behind his head, waiting for the girls to come into the bedroom and choose their bed partner.

Alicia comes first and she seems to have made up her mind on the bed next to him which is Pierre's bed.

Chan turns to the side and says, "Nice one, bro!"

Pierre gives him a fistbump as a sign of victory and makes space on the bed for Alicia.

Lola is the next one and it's just what he expected, she jumps onto Jace's bed in which Jace enthusiastically waits with his open arms.

The time he's been waiting for is here, he sees you coming into the bedroom dressed in a cropped white top and shorts.

You're still beautiful to him with a bare face and your hair is down, his heart is beating faster and faster as you make your way to his bed.

Chan takes his hands away from under his head as you climb onto the bed, then pats the space between his legs, "Come here, baby!"

You crawl to him and sit where he asked you to, between his legs with your back resting against his chest. Chan wastes no time to cage you in his big arms, then buries his nose in your neck to drink in your heavenly scent.

His hand accidentally brushes over your breasts and despite that it's accidental, he can see that you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"I usually sleep naked," he shares with you.

You slightly turn your head to the side to meet his eyes, "Me too."

Chan, having not yet processed that he's in a sex retreat is not aware that information will most likely do him no good.

"Are you a good cuddler?" You ask.

He nuzzles his nose into your hair, "Oh, you're in for a treat!"

You comfortably rest your head on his shoulder as he slips his fingers into your hands and intertwines them together, resting them on your stomach afterward.

It suddenly turns quiet when Dani enters the bedroom and Chan is enjoying the drama about to unfold in front of him. He and Pierre exchange glances at each other. Now that Pierre has dropped out of the competition, that leaves Dani with two options left, Luke or Iain.

But it's clear that Dani has come to a decision to share the bed with Luke as she casually gets on his bed, "I'll sleep here," she says.

That leaves Iain with no choice but to sleep with Jane.

"Goodnight everyone!" Jace sweetly says to everyone in the room the second the lights are off.

It's a long day and he's still processing everything that happened but it's all worth it because now, he's sleeping next to you.

Chan puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close until your back meets his chest. He likes how your body molds perfectly into his and you snuggle more against his body, your ass rubbing against his crotch. Intentionally or not, he'll eventually get hard because of you.

You put your hand on his jaw and softly kiss his cheek, "Goodnight!"

He places a long kiss on your cheek in return, "Goodnight!" He says, adding a quick kiss on your shoulder after.

CHRIS: I don't even know if I'd be able to sleep next to a hot girl and not do anything. [Shakes head]

It's morning but the lights aren't on yet.

Chan makes use of the absence of light by cuddling you under the cover, putting his hand around you, and pressing kisses on your bare shoulder, then down your arm.

He hears you humming then softly rubbing your hand on his forearm.

Chan puts his mouth close to your ear, "You're awake?"

You don't say anything but lowly hum as his hand glides down your thigh and gently squeezes on the flesh. Then you turn your head at him and with eyes still closed, you lowly speak, "Nice."

He quietly laughs because you're slurring your words, "What?" He asks.

You turn your head around to whisper it to him so everyone else can't hear it, "Your morning wood."

Chan completely forgot about it but it's too late to hide it, you're probably been feeling his morning wood poking at your ass cheek for a while now. He takes his hand away from your thigh and rests it on your stomach.

"Now I kind of want to see it," you playfully say with a sly smile.

"Mmh... don't worry, you'll see," he seductively whispers to you.

Thankfully, the lights are on and Chan has time to tame his morning wood before he has to start the day.

The cone perched on the small glass table lights up and chimes, "Good morning, everyone!"

It only reminds Chan of the torment he puts himself in. He chooses to stay lying on his bed while you sit against the headboard of the bed with his hand resting on your thigh.

"A reminder that you're no longer in Lust Island and this is the first day of your retreat. Enjoy!" Lana keeps his morning greeting brief yet painful.

Luke groans with a pillow covering his face, "This is like... a nightmare."

Sure, it's hard to stay sexless for a whole month but to say this a nightmare when he sleeps next to a beautiful girl like you, Chan disagrees.

The day starts with working out at the beach with Pierre and he's doing his last rep of push-ups when Jace joins them. He's picking up a dumbbell and groans even before he picks it up.

"I don't know about you but I couldn't sleep much last night," Jace says.

Pierre laughs at him, "Wait, wait, are you—"

"Nah," Jace instantly denies, "I'm just waiting for someone to break the rule first."

Chan sits on the mat with his body coated in sweat, "I bet my money on Luke."

Pierre and Jace hoots at the same time, then slapping each other's chests, "Oh, yeah, damn!"

"Don't you laugh! You're close on second, Jace!" Chan says to him, almost falling over to the back as he laughs.

The hilarity ensues even after Jace starts lifting his dumbbells while standing, facing the vast blue sea.

"What about you, Aussie boy?" He asks.

Chan shields his eyes from the sun with his hand, "What about me?"

Jace shoots him a sly smirk, "Hey, I know, I see everything."

"Oh, yes, yes, he's all over her," Pierre eggs in just to tease him.

Chan glares at him and points his finger at him, "Watch out. I'm sleeping next to you!"

Pierre holds in his laughter, "I won't tell if you don't tell."

Everyone's curiosity is about to get fulfilled as Lana calls everyone to gather in the cabana. Seeing you for the first time after this morning, looking so stunning in a black bikini.

He sits right next to you at the end of the curved sofa with Lana already sitting right in the center of the wooden table.

"I'm nervous," Lola says, even though Lana hasn't come online yet.

Then comes the melodic chime and everyone gets tensed all at once. Seeing everyone nervous, makes Chan nervous too so he puts his arm around you to comfort him.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

There are various answers but everyone is half-heartedly replying to her.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and last night, you were given strict rules to adhere to."

Lana sounds not pleased and Chan wonders if anyone has broken the rules yet. He knows for sure that you and him are not breaking any so he scans to spot any guilty faces.

"Those rules forbid sexual contact of any kind. Regrettably, a few minutes later there was a breach of the rules," Lana informs.

"Ooh..." A few people coo in response.

Chan continues his search for guilty faces, his bet is still on Luke but it could be anyone.

"Does this mean it was last night?" Jane asks, looking the most innocent out of the bunch.

Jace slyly laughs and looks at everyone, "Okay, so, who did it?"

Now Chan is not the only one on the hunt for the guilty ones. Everyone is trying to see what is not visible to the naked eye.

Not long after, the first culprit starts to show herself. Dani is shaking her leg too much and trying not to look everyone in the eyes. The calm on her face gradually falters with each passing second.

"You're smiling," Pierre points out and everyone's attention is turned to her.

Dani can't keep her calm anymore and decides to come clean, "Yeah, it was me."

"Oh, shit!" Jace yells, representing everyone else in the group.

"With whom?" Lola asks.

Dani shakes her head, "I'm not going to name names," she says with a cryptic smile.

Now everyone is wondering who kissed Dani between Luke and Iain, the whole thing turns into a detective game. Who kissed Dani?

"Nope. It's not me," Iain confesses right away and the suspicion is directed at the last person left on the list.

Everyone is only waiting for Luke to admit it and you shift on your seat as immersed in the moment as...

"It was me," you come forward with your hand raised.

It takes him more than a moment to collect himself and convince himself that he heard it right. You have just confessed as the one who kissed Dani last night.

Jace jolts in his seat, "WHAT?"

Pierre leans at Chan and exclaims, "Wow!"

You look at everyone and apologize, "I'm sorry. I don't know... I just didn't think that we'd get caught," you explain.

As you're about to sit back, you turn your head in the direction of Luke, "I'm sorry for being the first to kiss Dani," you specifically apologize to him.

CHRIS: She kissed Dani... [Chuckles] I like that shit [pinches the bridge of his nose]

"This breach of the rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces, reminding everyone that there's prize money to protect.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000."

Chan is getting more pessimistic that there'll be any money left at the end of the retreat. With everyone knowing that someone has broken the rules, it's only about time that everyone takes their turn to do it.

Personally, Chan doesn't care about the money, he has enough but that doesn't mean he will act selfishly by breaking the rules. The word 'selfish' isn't what he wants to be associated with him.

Also, it's not his money in the first place, it's everyone's money, therefore he can't waste money without thinking of the group.

You squeeze yourself into the small sofa he's sitting in and put your hand around him, "Hi," you softly say with a smile.

He looks at you and puts your leg over his knee, putting his hand on the back of your thigh, "Hi!"

You put your hand on the nape of his neck where the beads of water are dripping from the end of his hair from swimming.

"You look good wet," you tell him.

Chan brushes his hair to the back and looks at you, "You look better wet," he says with a sly grin.

It's hard being this close to you and not kissing you. Chan has to actively tell his brain to not give in to the temptations even though it's sitting right on his lap.

"Are you mad?" You ask.

He reckons you're asking about the kiss you did with Dani, "How can I be mad at that?" he asks back.

You laugh in response, "Yeah?"

He rests his head to look up at you, "That's just so hot," he replies.

You put your other hand around him and look into his eyes, entrapped him in your mesmerizing gaze.

Chan's plan is simple: Try not to act selfishly.

Then you happened. You kissed Dani, the most popular girl in the retreat, and then you openly admitted it to everyone. That only shows you have no problem breaking the rules, and added the fact that you're so attractive to him making a lethal combination that would likely lead Chan to act against his plan.

CHRIS: She's not only too hot to handle. I'm afraid, she's also a lot to handle [grins] but in the best way.

To make everyone connect emotionally rather than physically, Lana has set up a workshop in the front yard of the villa.

Everyone is paired up for it and he, of course, is your partner, he expects nothing less than it. Except that Iain gets the chance to be with Dani in this workshop.

A sex expert has been invited to lead the workshop, "Today, we're going to learn about restraint," she announces.

She walks to the center and looks at everyone as she speaks, "This workshop is about learning to slow down, there's so much more to intimacy and physical connections aside from sex."

Today's lesson is exploring each other's erogenous zones, to find the parts of our bodies that are sensitive to sexual stimulation. Chan has no idea if it would help him think less about sex because it seems like it's going to do the opposite to him.

There's a selection of equipment to help, there are feathers, roses, whips, and even melted chocolate on a bowl. You take the first turn, laying on your stomach on the thin mattress so he can start his exploration.

To begin, Chan only wants to use his hand to trace the curve of your body, feeling every inch of your skin with his fingertips.

You look over your shoulder as his hand climbs up your spine and stops at the nape of your neck only to drag his knuckle down your back.

"You're so soft," he murmurs as he puts your hair away from covering your neck.

You flash him a sly smile and hum, "Mmh..."

He takes a feather from the basket and begins to touch your body with it, finding the special spots that make you whimper or squirm.

Or giggle, just like you're doing right now as he tickles your ankle with the feather, "Tickles?"

You nod with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

"Turn over for me, please?" He says to you.

You obey and lay on your back, propping both elbows against the mattress to see that Chan has picked up a rose now.

Chan starts at the neck this time, softly touching you with the rose. He notices you lowly humming as he glides it down your chest and the petals are making a trail down your front. Yet he keeps dragging down your inner thigh and you lowly moan.

"Tickles?"

"Uh-huh."

He brings it close to your clothed core, "Right here?"

You're looking him in the eyes as you reply, "Yes."

"Self control and restraint. Two essential parts of today's lesson!" The expert reminds everyone not to get overboard with their explorations.

Before he takes his turn, he takes a dollop of chocolate and smears it across your sternum. Slowly, he leans down to lick it off of you with his slick, hot tongue.

He can hear your stifled breath and your chest heaving as he sucks on the skin on your breast. He finishes with a kiss on your neck and a triumphant smile on his face.

CHRIS: Looking at her laying there and being so sensitive under my touch oh... [hisses] [exhales]

The nervousness gets to him when he lays down on the mattress and puts his hands under his head, surrendering his body because it's time for you to explore now.

You crawl over his body to get the whip from the basket and he guesses, you intentionally pressing on his crotch as you look down on him with the whip in your hand.

"I haven't started but your ears are already getting red," you tell him.

Chan tries to stay calm and closes his eyes for a while to finally come up with a response, "It's the sun."

You laugh at that and begin your exploration by touching his body with the leather whip, without warning, slapping it on his skin.

"How about that?" You lowly ask.

"Not bad," he coyly answers.

You get off his body and lay next to him while the whip is continuing its journey down his body, heading close to his clothed member and again, slapping him on his thigh without warning.

"Harder?" You ask.

But before he can answer, you're slapping on the other thigh, earning a low groan out of him. Without looking, he knows that his ears are getting even redder at this moment.

On his pale skin, you can see the marks you made from whipping him, and decides to switch it to feather. You're looking at him while you're teasing his neck with the feather, he can't lie that his ears are one of his sensitive parts. The hair on his arms stands up as you rub the feather on his ear shell.

"You're so cute," you breathlessly whisper, putting his weakness to your advantage.

He can only look at you and hope that he doesn't fall apart under your touch. You take the bowl of melted chocolate, then sit on his crotch, earning a moan out of him.

You flash him a grin that hints you're up to no good. He watches as you pour the chocolate onto his abs and pick a strawberry, dipping it on the chocolate on his abs before tugging it between your teeth and feeding it to him.

Doing it carefully to not accidentally break the rules, Chan takes a bite of the strawberry without his lips touching yours then you shove the rest of it into your mouth and chew on it.

He assumes that you have done as you sit back on the mattress, you hold his body down with your hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not finished yet," you tell him.

He wonders what else you're trying to do but that's the pleasure of not knowing. He sees you ducking your head onto his stomach to lick the chocolate on his abs.

Your tongue makes a long strip of lick up his abs and another long strip down on the next, you clean the rest in kitten licks, making the best of your time to torture him as his ears are about to explode at how red and hot they are, he lies when he said it's because of the sun.

Chan notices the smear of chocolate on your upper lip, "Come here!" He gestures for you to come close to his face.

You crawl and hover over his body, you stay still as he cleans it for you by licking it. It's not a rule break since it's only his tongue that makes contact with your lips.

"How'd it taste?"

"So, so sweet," he answers.

Sadly, the workshop is over. They know that if they let it on for too long, it's going to turn into one massive orgy.

"Self-control is very difficult but I hope that you can take something out of this workshop and practice it in the retreat," the expert concludes at the end of the workshop.

CHRIS: I learned that she's sensitive on her ankle, her neck, her chest, and I... can't wait to touch her all over again [Chuckles]

There's a lot of seats on the sofa but you choose to sit on his lap. Not that he minds about it, he just can't trust himself when you're this close, especially dressed in a skin-tight outfit that enhances every curve of your body.

You loop an arm around his neck and the other hand is holding a drink, your eyes are always locked in a gaze with him.

"Do you play any sports?"

"Soccer, bowling... uh, pool?" Chan lists the sports he's been playing recently.

You put your drink away so you can use both hands to feel his shoulder blades, "Which sport got you these broad shoulders?"

Chan takes a small sip of his drink before putting it away, "I believe that's from swimming," he answers.

He puts his hand on your thigh with his thumb mindlessly rubbing on the skin as he talks, "I took part in a few swimming competitions in high school."

"Ooh..." you coo in awe, "So, you're good at swimming."

Chan nonchalantly shrugs, then grins, showing his dimples at you.

"What is your best style?"

"Freestyle, butterfly," he casually answers.

"How about breaststroke?" You ask with a seductive smile.

"I'm the best," he answers even though it's kind of vague if you're still talking about swimming style or a different kind of stroke.

It's hard to keep the conversation casual with you, he can't blame you though. It's impossible not to think about sex when he's with you.

"I want to learn the breaststroke from you," you playfully say with a flirtatious gaze.

"How about a private swimming lesson?" He spontaneously comes up with an idea.

With his recent discovery that the back of your thigh is sensitive, he puts his hand there as he says, "I'm going to teach all kinds of strokes."

CHRIS: I just can't keep my head straight when I'm with her. There's just a lot of sexual tension, it's unbearable [sighs]

While everyone else is getting ready for bed, you change into a swimsuit and meet him at the swimming pool. You sit on the edge to take off the mic to not risk it getting wet and damage it, then jump into the pool afterward.

It is supposed to be a swimming lesson but Chan pushes you to the wall and cages you between his arms. You don't seem to mind it though but Chan is unaware of the danger he trapped himself in.

"I think there'll be lots of rule breaks tonight," you say.

Chan glides his hand down to your waist and holds you there, "Well, thanks to you!" He pokes fun at you.

You chuckle at that and put your arms around his shoulders, "What about you?"

You put your hand on his pec and hypnotizing eyes that look right into his soul, "Are you going to break rules?"

You lean in close and graze his nose with the tip of your nose, "Are you going to be good or bad tonight, mmh?"

Chan brushes his hair to the back before diving it back into the water and lifts your leg by the back of your thigh to hook it around him.

He brings his face close to your side and lowly whispers, "Is that what you want?"

You tip your head to the other side, enticing him with your exposed neck, "Mmh, yeah..."

The beads of water trickling down the column of your neck make him give in to the temptation and plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, "You naughty girl!" he says with a laugh.

You put your hands on his chest, "And I know you're just as naughty," you say back while gently pushing him away.

Chan laughs and has you pinned against the wall again, looking at your face glows from the bluish lights of the swimming pool.

He reaches for your face and swipes his thumb across your lips, "I want to kiss you," he says with a hoarse voice.

You giggle and put your hands on each side of his waist, "We can't do that, Chris," you say with an insinuating tone that indicates you're not meant to remind him about the rules.

Your eyes are daring him to cross the line and so he does, he puts his hand under your chin, then leans in to kiss you. The way you eagerly return it, he allows himself to kiss you harder and deeper.

Chan lets out a delightful sigh once he pulls away from the kiss and laughs the moment his eyes meet yours, "That was hot," he comments, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

He's going against his plan to not act selfishly but at that moment, he doesn't think about the money at all. His eyes are looking at your lips and how they're glistening wet, inviting him to kiss it again.

CHRIS: Oh my, Gosh! It's just so hard... it's hard [shakes his head]

Chan closes his eyes and tries to reorganize his thoughts, holding you tightly to help him get a grip. He hoists you against his body and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist.

"You're a good kisser," you compliment with both of your hands around his neck.

He tilts his head up to look at you, "You're a good kisser too."

You tangled your hand in the hair on the back of his head, "I kind of want to do it again."

Chan knows that you're not asking for his permission, he also knows that one kiss won't be enough for both of you. The kiss is explosive and thrilling, giving him a newfound kind of rush that he wants to experience all over again.

You kiss him first and Chan becomes the one who eagerly returns the kiss to you, opening his mouth so he can use his tongue in the mix.

"Mmh..." you moan as you put your lips on his, then slowly let go.

You smile as you put your forehead against him and seductively giggle, "You're so bad, you know that?"

It should be him saying that line to you. Whenever he's with you, he feels like has no sense of self-control anymore, all he wants to do is submit to your wishes.

He puts you down and turns around so he can rest his back, pulling you close to hold you from the back. He hopes that not seeing your lips will help him calm down.

It's when he composed himself he realizes the damage he has done to the prize money, "Okay, I feel the guilt now," he pathetically admits.

With his hands wrapped around your waist, you rub his forearm in the water and say, "We could have done more but we didn't, you know?"

"That's true," Chan agrees because yes, he could have done more than just kisses with you. If he were out there, he would have broken a bed or two with you.

Chan is fond of physical affection, both receiving and giving. It's imperative for him when it comes to connecting and bonding with the person he likes.

It's a bummer that he can't freely do that in the retreat but if he's going to break rules, he'll only do it with one person and that is you.

CHRIS: I want to be good but she brings out the bad in me so... [shrugs]

Chan had barely started his day when Lana gathered everyone in the bedroom.

He enters and sees you already sitting on the bed, he sits on the end to let you hug him from the back, waiting for the cone to light up and chime like she usually does.

"Mmh... so hot!" You gasp as you put your hand across his chest.

"How come you only found out now, mmh?" He jokes.

He knows you're talking about his skin and that's because he was at the beach to swim when Lana called. Also, he knows that it's time for judgment, everyone is going to know about the things he did.

Now that he knows he's about to get exposed, his heart skips a beat as the melodic chime comes from the cone.

"Oh! There she is!" Jane weakly gasps.

Lana hasn't spoken but Chan knows she's not pleased with the news she's about to deliver today.

"I have some disappointing news."

Chan silently swallows air and puts his hands together in front of him. He can see the guilts are coming back and haunting him.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

Everyone coo and all eyes are automatically looking for the guilty faces. Chan can see that he's not the only one breaking the rules, he just can't tell if it's going to make him feel better or worse.

CHRIS: I'm on the hot seat right now. Everyone is not going to be pleased.

Jace leans forward on the bed and rubs his chin, "I'll be honest with you all," he begins.

Jace and his playful smirk is an easy giveaway, Chan can tell that he broke the rules. Lola is also looking nervous as she keeps picking on her nails.

"I spent some money. I kissed Lola last night," he confesses.

Iain sighs and mutters under his breath, "Oh, man..."

"It was all me," Jace says as he glances at Lola, taking all the blame from her.

"I feel a connection so I guess it was worth it... yeah, I'm sorry, you guys," he concludes.

Pierre nods and seems to give him a pass, "Okay."

That seems easy to do and since everyone is on the same ship, Chan reckons that they'll respect his honesty and understand why he did what he did.

It's best to own up to his mistakes quickly than mulling over it so he confesses, "We kissed by the pool last night."

You hide behind his shoulder with your hand resting on the other shoulder.

"Just once?" Jane asks.

Chan looks at you and you take your turn to speak for both of you, "Twice."

"Oh... fuck..." Pierre lowly curses on the bed next to him.

"Is that it?" Iain asks.

He wants to be honest but it's hard when everyone is throwing daggers with their eyes at him. He forces himself to admit it, "I kissed her again. On the bed."

Chan felt guilty on the first kiss but after the second kiss, it got easier for him to rulebreak. As he was spooning you last night, your body was pressed against him and you smelled so good, it just felt right to give you a long, passionate goodnight kiss.

That, he admits is a hundred percent his fault.

"And that's it. No more kisses," you assure everyone before they can yell at him again.

"We're sorry," you end with an apology.

Chan feels grateful that you don't leave him alone, you firmly stand your ground and face it with him.

"That was a waste of money," Iain mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

You take a sharp breath and ask, "Is that all Lana?"

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs, sounding so fed up already.

The drama continues as the next rulebreaker comes to light and that is Luke. It’s kind of expected, he's with Dani after all, and committed two rulebreaks. Pierre comes forward with one kiss with Alicia.

Chan is just so relieved that they take the attention away with them and he can breathe now with the glares no longer aimed in his direction.

"All of these rule breaks have made me reassess my retreat strategy," Lana states.

"Oh... she's mad," Lola says with a panicked smile.

"I have now decided to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting from these rule breaks," she informs.

Chan turns his head to look at you and sees you cringe at the shocking announcement.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000."

Lola gasps with her hand flies to cover her mouth, "We might as well pack up our bags right now," she says.

You both have just now realized the damages done to the prize money. You nuzzle your head into his neck, feeling bad from the guilt.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000," Lana updates.

CHRIS: The bill turned up and we're like whoa! [Eyes widen] I guess yeah... we spent quite a lot.

Now it's the perfect time for him to swim at the beach.

Chan needs to cool his head down and let the seawater wash away his guilt of spending that much money on three kisses, he can do so much with $18,000.

He's swimming far off the shore and when he walks back to the villa, Jace is laughing at him.

"I thought you were swimming back to Australia, dude!" He says him while brushing his long blond hair to the back.

Chan doesn't see that Luke is there too until he arrives at the top of the stairs, "I thought about it, yeah," he playfully responds to him.

Chan then sits on the lounger next to him and dries his hair with a towel. He leans back on the lounger and turns his head at him, "I was right that you'll be the second to break the rules!"

Jace snickers, "Damn right, I am. It was worth it."

Luke rubs his oiled body and says, "Yo, I was the one in the hot seat."

Chan laughs at him, "And I thank you for taking everyone's attention away."

"You owe me!" Luke says.

Jace points at Chan with his head lolling to the side, "You know what? I think you'll need a loan soon," he jokes.

Chan shakes his head and that sounds plausible with how much money he spent in one night. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he hisses in response, "Nah..."

Truthfully, that would be a lie. Chan has not yet found a way to try to stick with the plan but at the same time, he wants to always be close to you but it's dangerous once he gets close to you.

Chan needs to work on his self-control and for a start, he needs to put a safe space between you and him.

CHRIS: You know what? I'll not break any rules from now on... [uneasily glances side to side] Hopefully.

First thing in the morning, Chan gets handed a hard task when he steps into the bathroom.

"Baby, please, help me!" You sweetly say with a tube of sunblock in your hand.

Chan has no other option but to comply and think of it as a test of self-control. He takes the sunblock from you as you slightly bend down with your hands on the edge of the sink.

"Get in there! Don't be shy!" You playfully tell him as he hesitates to rub over some sunblock on your ass cheeks.

"Okay, okay," he replies, rubbing the cream on the ample flesh of your rear, and not going to lie, he likes what he's touching.

Chan notices that you're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror and he senses that you know what's been happening the last few days.

"You say you're a good cuddler..." you say.

He rubs the rest of the sunblock down your arms, "I am," he assures.

You look over your shoulder at him, "But you barely cuddled me last night," you say with a pout.

His heart flips seeing you adorably complaining about the lack of cuddles and he can't help but smile. He knows he shouldn't put a space all of a sudden and not tell you about it.

Chan pulls your body close against his body and looks at the reflection of him hugging you from the back, fuck, he likes what he's seeing.

He slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you closer, close enough to press on his crotch, "You always make me hard," he confesses.

He presses a long kiss on your neck then says, "That's why."

You're chuckling at his honest answer then turn around to face him, putting your hands on his magnificent abs.

"How about I return the favor?" You suddenly ask.

Chan's eyes widen in shock and he wonders if the favor you mentioned has got to do with the thing he said earlier.

You burst into laughter and take the tube of sunblock, "I mean, putting on sunblock," you make the context clear.

You gently pat his cheek and kiss it while still laughing, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

CHRIS: Told you, I just can't think straight when I'm with her.

With their eyebrows raised and not-so-subtle death glares thrown your way, it's obvious that they think the reason why Lana called everyone to the cabana is because you both broke the rules again.

"Nah. Nuh-uh. Not us!" You quickly deny everyone's allegations.

Chan can relax this time knowing that he didn't do any rulebreak and puts his arm around your shoulder. You offer your hand to intertwine it with his.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets not long after the cone chimes in.

Lola is nervously laughing in response and Jace follows suit, they make a strange couple out of the bunch which only makes them inexplicably cute.

"To help you achieve personal growth during your stay, I need to increase your chance of finding meaningful romantic relationships," Lana remarks.

You turn your head at Chan and raise an eyebrow, wondering if he has any clue as to what Lana is hinting at.

"Therefore, I have invited two new guests to the retreat."

The gasp you let out is loud and sharp, Chan gets a little alarmed at how enthusiastic you get from this announcement. Should he be worried though?

"My guests have selected one person each to take on a date," Lana further informs.

"Oh, my God!" Alicia shrieks.

It shouldn't worry him this much but Chan feels a little worried. It's not him, it's you, he worries that your head will turn.

"The ones chosen for the dates are..."

CHRIS: Lana, can you just send us on a date instead? [Laughs] I'll not be pleased if she gets chosen for the date.

Chan doesn't want to show it but he starts tapping his fingers on his knee, waiting for Lana to inform who got chosen to get on dates with the new guests.

"Alicia..." Lana announces the first name.

Pierre hisses at the mention of his partner and coyly smiles, looking calm about it.

"And Chris," Lana announces.

Chan only registered a minute later that Lana called his name and that he got picked for the date. He might have secretly prayed for your name to not get called and forgot to pray for his own.

"Alicia and Chris, you may now leave and get ready for your dates," Lana orders.

You thinly smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, "Have fun!"

He's not sure if you mean it or not, but Chan takes it that you have good intentions behind those words. He briefly hugs you before leaving.

CHRIS: I did not expect to get chosen but yeah, I think it's a good chance for me to show her that I'm into her.

It's when he's getting ready in the dressing room that Lana delivers additional information.

One, they haven't told the new guests that they are on Too Hot To Handle which will make them as horny and as eager as he is at the start of the retreat.

Two, Chan is free to decide at which point to tell them about it.

"It's better if we tell them right away then," Chan talks to Alicia as they're walking down to the beach.

"But then they won't try to kiss you," Alicia cheekily says which is the opposite of what they should do to resist temptations.

"Good luck!" Chan gives Alicia a quick hug as they go separate ways at the beach.

He keeps walking until he finds the place where they have prepared a picnic for the date and also where the new guest has been waiting for him.

The girl turns her head around and smiles when she sees him coming her way, "Hi, hi!"

Chan joins her by sitting on the pillow on the picnic mat, "Hi, I'm Chris," he introduces and offers his hand for a handshake.

"I'm Olivia," she introduces back but instead of shaking his hand, she puts her hand around his shoulder and pulls him for a hug.

It gets him nervous and it's not the first time he goes on a date like this. He grabs the glass of drink that has been prepared for him and initiates a toast with her.

"Is that an Australian accent that I hear?" She asks.

"Yes," He answers.

"Oh, I like that," she sweetly says with a bright smile.

This is the real temptation. Olivia has a voluptuous body, gorgeous strawberry-blond hair, and a nice smile. Chan was so wrong to think that her date would be ugly.

"I've never been to a date this nice, honestly," Olivia says.

Chan swallows his drink before answering, "Well, thank you for choosing me so I can enjoy this nice date with you," he says.

He doesn't mean to sound this flirty, it just sort of comes out of him naturally. It's just the way he talks to a girl.

"Well, you have a great body, sexy lips and dimples. I think it's a no-brainer," Olivia says with eyes that silently travel down his body.

This is what he doesn't get from you enough from you, affirmations and now that he got it from someone, he gets flustered, "Thank you," he mutters with a shy smile.

Olivia flips her hair to one side of her shoulder and gazes at him, "What do you think about me? Am I your type?"

Chan lets out a low laugh and holds his drink in one hand, "You're obviously good-looking," he begins.

Olivia is biting on her finger and locked in a gaze with him as he continues talking.

"I like your smile. It's uh... you have a very nice smile," he sincerely compliments.

"Thank you," she mutters her gratitude with a flirtatious smile.

CHRIS: Just because I'm already with someone that doesn't mean I can't get to know Olivia.

The plan is to break the news to Olivia as soon as possible.

However, Chan keeps finding himself stalling to do it. He gets immersed in the conversation with Olivia and maybe because he hasn't met new people in a while that makes him inexplicably excited to talk to someone new.

Chan finishes his drink to muster up the courage to drop the news but it's hard when Olivia is constantly giving him the eyes.

"It's a nice date, yeah?" Chan begins by softening the moment.

Olivia smiles and nods, "It would be nicer if we kissed," she shamelessly says.

Oh, Olivia is a trouble and Chan already has a handful of it, she's probably waiting for him to come back from this date as they speak.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Chan says.

"Why?" Olivia's smile falters a little and maybe, she's feeling a little dejected by how quickly Chan shot her down.

"This is not what you think it is," Chan carefully says.

One of her eyebrows shoots up higher than the other, "What do you mean?"

Chan takes a deep breath even though Olivia who should be the one doing it, "You're on Too Hot To Handle."

Olivia sits up straighter and clutches at her chest, "What?"

He feels bad to rain on her parade but he's merely there to be the bearer of bad news.

"That means no kissing, no heavy petting, no masturbating, no sex..."

Her eyes get wider and wider the more she hears about things she's not allowed to do in the retreat, "That means no fun? Ever?"

"Basically... yeah," Chan playfully responds.

Oh, is this how he looked when Lana dropped the news on him? The only thing he knows for sure is Olivia is as livid as he was back then.

CHRIS: What can I do? Lana is the one in control here.

The night gets dark in time to return to the villa.

Chan helps Olivia climb the stairs on her heeled sandals and proceeds to introduce her to everyone. He gets a little nervous when it comes to introducing Olivia to you.

"So, how was the date?" Lola asks.

Chan scratches the back of his head and answers, "We had a good time."

"Yeah, that was... the nicest date I ever had," Olivia adds.

He takes a seat next to you on the sofa and you're only looking at him without saying anything.

"Did you have fun?" You finally ask him.

Chan leans into your side and says, "Let's have a talk!"

Taking you by the hand, he pulls you aside to get some privacy. You choose to sit on the sofa across from him rather than next to him.

"Uh... Olivia is sweet and we had a great chat," Chan begins while rubbing down his arm.

"I used the chance to get to know her," he adds.

He sees you subtly rolling your eyes at him and sigh, pretending like you don't care but he knows. It's kind of cute that you're worrying him that Chan's heart is fluttering inside.

He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with you, "But the whole time, during the date..."

He looks at you and smiles, "I just couldn't wait to get back."

A smile rises on your face and he can see that you soften around him. He uses his index fingers to draw endless circles on the inside of your palm.

"I miss you," he softly mutters.

You're shyly smiling at him and say it back, "I miss you too."

"Come here! Give me a hug!" He says while shaking your hand.

You get up from the sofa and walk up to him, he stops you before coming for his lap.

"Oh, looking so hot tonight," he comments on the way you dressed tonight in a black silk dress with a high slit on the side.

"Spin for me, baby," he requests.

You take your hand away so you can do it for him, spinning on your feet. You show off your dress and make a few poses for him, doing it so confidently that it's undeniably sexy to him.

"Mmh... yeah, the finest girl in the retreat!" He praises.

You're laughing looking at his exaggerated facial expression, then melt onto his lap, letting him hold you tightly. Chan kisses the top of your head and whispers, "You're my number one."

After all, the word 'loyal' is what he likes to be associated with.

CHRIS: I don't think there's anybody else that could walk in here and turn my head at all. She's the one.

With his open arms, Chan is ready to catch you as you jump onto the bed at him. He locks his arms around you, then peppers your shoulder and neck with little kisses.

"Good job, Chris!" Alicia beams from the next bed.

He sees that she's still sharing the bed with Pierre, and he says back to her, "Good job, Alicia!"

The date was certainly a test but it's not much about temptations, it made Chan realize how much he likes you and he doesn't want to be with anyone else in this retreat but with you.

As he looks at you while you're lying next to him, he wonders if you feel the same too. He softly brushes your hair to the side and gently kisses your cheek, "Goodnight, baby!"

The lights are out and you snuggle into him, hooking your leg around him with your foot rubbing his shin. You place a long kiss on his neck before lowly whispering to him, "I'm glad you're back."

Chan quietly smiles in the dark of the room, "With you," he continues the sentence for you.

"With you," you repeated his words instead of putting it into a whole sentence.

He turns his head and he can easily land a kiss on your forehead, "Me too."

It's getting suspicious that your hand that was resting on his chest is slowly going lower and lower. You're probably waiting until everyone else is fast asleep to do something.

You nuzzle your head further into his neck to kiss him there, your hand is inching closer to the waistband of his boxer.

"Mmh..." he warns you with a hard squeeze on your waist.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and playfully bite on his ear shell, ignoring his warning by slipping your hand into his boxer.

Chan can stop you by putting your hand away but he knows you want to make him feel good and he simply can't resist you.

"Oh, you're so bad," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper.

He closes his eyes the moment your hand meets his semi-hard cock, "You're so bad," he says again but does nothing to stop you.

"I know," you reply to him, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly stroking it.

Chan draws you closer to his side with his hand fisting the back of your camisole as he begins enjoying the stimulation you're giving him.

"Impressive," you seductively sigh into his ear after exploring every inch of his hardening cock.

One compliment is enough to make him extremely aroused. He feels your thumb circling the tip of his cock before pumping it up and down with your hand at a steady pace.

Chan holds it in as long as he could but after days passed without getting a release, his self-control hits the lowest peak and he cums only after a few minutes.

"That wasn't even my good hand," you whisper with a low giggle.

He turns to look at you and jokingly says, "What good hands, mmh? You don't have any."

Chan knows he's a few minutes late to pull your hand out of his boxer, he then playfully bites at your fingers, "They're all bad hands. Bad, naughty hands!"

As you lowly laugh at his reply, he presses a kiss on your open mouth and draws you closer to him, feeling your body molds into his again.

CHRIS: [Bites lip] I can only hope that we didn't get caught.

"Morning," Chan croaks with a soft kiss on your cheek.

You get up right away a moment after the lights are turned on, sitting with your back against the headboard then ties your hair into a messy bun.

Still gathering his senses, Chan decides to rest his head on your lap and put your hand in his hair so you can play with it.

You give his curls a ruffle and brush it with your fingers, "Is this your natural hair?"

What you're doing is comforting him so that he can only hum in response, "Mmh."

He turns his head to the side and sees you looking down at him, "Do you like it?"

You tenderly cup his cheek in your hand, "Mmh. I like it."

Chan takes your hand to kiss the inside of your hand and wrist, his heart skips a beat at the melodic chime that comes from the cone.

Thankfully, it's Lana with her usual morning greeting and wishing the new guests a good day on their first day in the retreat. Chan thought that the first day was the hardest, but now he learned that he lost a bit of his self-control on each day spent in this retreat. What happened last night is the proof of it.

"How was your sleep, Nick, Olivia?" Lola asks the new guests who shared the bed.

"To be honest, I'm hoping it was all just a dream," Nick answers.

Everyone painfully laughs at the satire. Chan honestly still wishes that it was only just a dream but instead of that, he got used to the cameras recording everything he does in the retreat.

"Is there anyone you like here?" Luke asks either Olivia or Nick.

Chan doesn't need to worry about Olivia anymore. Guess, she has seen that he's with you which automatically makes her stop pursuing him. It's the other guest that he worries about, he notices that he's been secretly stealing glances at you.

"Mmh..." you moan as you hug him tight before getting up from the bed to start the day.

CHRIS: She worried for me last night but that's not quite convinced me if she feels the same way. I'm a little worried that her head will turn.

His fear turns real when Chan gets back to the villa from swimming and finds you chatting with the new guy in the bathroom.

Chan lingers at the doorway to catch glimpses of the conversation, catching him compliments you and you're laughing at him.

"I think there's something between us," Nick says.

"You think?"

Nick laughs and says, "I just can tell."

You're only softly laughing and not denying it. Chan decides that it's time to enter the scene so he walks into the bathroom not saying anything but gets himself a towel from the rack.

Chan turns around and looks at you, slightly nodding at Nick. The uncomfortable forcing Nick to leave the bathroom which is the only right decision there is.

You're slyly smiling at him as you lean against the sink, "Hey..."

Chan doesn't answer but keeps drying his body with the towel. He wants to see what you're going to do with this suffocating silence.

You come up to him and slip your hands under his arm, hugging him, looking up at him with your puppy eyes. You try to get his attention by kissing his neck and placing a wet kiss on his collarbone.

"Mmh... salty," you say with a giggle.

Without warning, he hoists you up and carries you on his shoulder. He slaps on the back of your thigh while looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"Bad girl!" He slaps you again on the other thigh, sending you squealing and laughing with your head hung upside down behind him, "You bad, bad girl!"

He slaps your ass cheek this time and asks you again, "Funny, huh?"

Yet you keep laughing, only grabbing at his arm for support. Chan turns his head to bite on the flesh of your ass cheek, "Is it still funny?" He asks again.

"Uh-huh!" You cheekily answer.

CHRIS: She's really bad... I need to tame her. Wish me luck though [Grins]

Lana throws a welcome party for the new guests and everyone is wearing red for the theme.

Chan wears a sleeveless top with his dark slacks while you're dressed in a red dress with a low neckline that barely covers your breasts.

However, the party can't stop the imminent threat of Lana telling everyone about the things you both did last night. Chan can only mentally prepare himself for it and gulps his drink in silence.

"So, what do DJs actually do?" You suddenly ask him, sitting on his lap like always.

Chan remembers he once mentioned his job as a music producer but you only focused on his side job as a DJ, "Huh?" He asks in confusion since you asked out of the blue.

You put your drink away and put your hand on his shoulder, "You guys made the mix beforehand, right? So when you're on the stage, you know DJing, you just need to play that mix," you concisely put what a DJ does as if it sounded that simple.

Chan can tell you everything there is about DJing that is more complex than what you've just said but he can only laugh at it and it helps him to take his mind off things, "Yeah, kind of."

You squeeze his shoulder and say, "If that's the case then I want to be a DJ too."

He rubs his hand down your spine and rests it on the arch of your back, "You can be whatever you want."

"Mmh," you hum as you sip your drink, "We can make a duo, you and me, DJing together."

Chan is having a good laugh about it when the music abruptly stops playing then the familiar chime comes in through the speakers.

"Please could everyone gather in the cabana immediately!"

CHRIS: Oh, fuck, I'm shitting it.

You're looking so calm sitting next to him, unaware of what's going to happen once the cone starts talking. Chan tries to put on a cool face as well, leaning back on his seat with his hand resting on your thigh.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones," Lana speaks.

The long pause between the lines is making Chan even more nervous, his hand is getting sweaty yet you hold it tightly on your lap.

"This information is not getting through to some guests. There has been a breach of the rules," Lana announces.

Alicia smacks her lips together and asks, "Who was it?"

The hunt for guilty faces is on and of course, everyone is looking at them. Chan is planning to admit it real quick, ripping the band-aid all at once but someone gets ahead of him.

"A while ago..." Iain says, "Literally a few minutes ago, I kissed Olivia."

Lola slaps her forehead and sighs, "Oh, my God!"

Olivia only shrugs in response, not showing any remorse or guilt on her part.

"The kiss has cost the group $6,000," Lana informs.

"Nice!" Lola adds a snide comment.

Everyone is pissed because Olivia spent some money when she has only been here for less than two days. Chan gets the picture of how things would be when he comes forward.

"Oh, I need another drink," Luke says.

"That is not all!" Lana makes everyone hold their breath once more.

CHRIS: Okay, here we go... [sighs]

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

There's no way out of it, everyone is going to know whether he decides to tell or not. Chan takes a deep breath and another one and...

"It was me," you confess.

"Oh, shit..." Pierre drags the curse word and leers at Chan.

Lola looks at you and asks, "What did you do this time, babe?"

You glance at Chan before looking back at everyone, "There was a kiss and..."

You lick your lips and hold on to his hand on your thigh, "I gave him a handy."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jace exclaims, then bursts into laughter.

"We may as well go home. We have no money left!" Jane says with a dramatic sigh.

"I wanted to show Chris what he's been missing for going on that date, so... I'm sorry," you conclude with an apology.

It's not a good time to get lovey-dovey but he is swooning. You're fearlessly owning up to your mistakes and openly explaining the reason why you did it.

You may bring out the bad in him but he can see that there's a genuine connection there. He doesn't want to sit there and watch as everyone is attacking you.

"We're sorry, okay?" Chan apologizes once again on behalf of you.

Thankfully, Lana takes over the situation.

"What you did goes against the purpose of the retreat. Therefore a further $14,000 has been deducted from the prize fund," Lana comes up with the calculated damage.

Lola is groaning and squirming like someone has set her body on fire, "Oh, God!"

"The prize fund now stands at $135,000."

Chan grips your hand hearing how much money have lost from the initial amount and have a hard time reeling from it.

As if that wasn't enough of torture, Lana calls your name and his.

"You have broken most rules since arriving at the retreat. You must now prove that your connection is more than just purely physical."

You're looking at him and he sees panic in your eyes, kind of figuring out what Lana is going with it.

"You will face the ultimate test of chastity by spending the night alone in the private suite."

Chan gulps air and feels hot all of a sudden. Without looking, he can feel everyone's eyes are drilling holes in his head.

CHRIS: I want to prove to everyone that we do have a genuine connection but at the same time, we're going to the private suite... [whistles] it's going to be hard.

Everyone is emitting negative energy and that only makes Chan can't stand another second being in the same room with them.

"Please make your way to the suite!" Lana commands.

Chan shoots up from the sofa and offers his hand to help you get up, "Come on, babe!"

He just can't wait to get away from everyone and not be around them. He leads the way to the private suite that is located in a different part of the villa.

Chan slowly pushes the door to the suite and the smell of scented candles welcomes him. He holds the door open for you and you gasp at the sight of the big bed with a silk sheet on it.

"Oh, they want us to fail, babe," you say as you slowly lay yourself down on the bed.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, lying with rose petals scattered around you.

"So beautiful," he murmurs.

He puts his knee against the mattress to hover above you, taking his time to admire your beautiful face with admiration in his eyes, "Stop looking so beautiful!" He says in a frustrated tone.

You smile at him and draw his body closer, sending him toppled on top of you.

"So, tell me..." you lowly speak with your hand going under his top.

"Tell you what?" He says as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

"What are we doing tonight, Chris?" You ask.

You rarely call him by his name but when you do, it does things to him. He has so many things he wants to do to you but sadly, they are all against the rules.

CHRIS: Lana wasn't kidding when she said it's the ultimate test... [shakes head] [sighs]

The bath is ready and Chan is leaning against the sink, watching you taking every piece of clothing off you.

You look confident in your body and that's just a whole different level of sexy to him. You're smiling, noticing that he's been ogling at your body, up and down, for so many times he lost count of it.

"Why are you just standing there?" You ask while twisting your hair and securing it with a hair claw.

He shakes his head with his cheeks blushed from how horny he is, "You're so gorgeous," he praises.

You come up to him and kiss him on the cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth, "Don't make me wait."

You get in the tub first and slowly lower yourself into the warm, scented water to not slosh it out of the tub.

You fill two champagne flutes with the bubbly wine while Chan is removing his clothes in under a minute. You look at him as he stands there in all his glory. He notices the glance you made at his semi-hard cock.

"You like what you see?" He asks.

You pull your feet up so he can take the spot on the other end of the tub and then you can rest your feet on his legs.

"Oh, I want to get a taste now," you tell him with a flirty wink.

Chan bursts into laughter to mask how nervous he is inside. He's snaking his hand under your thigh to hold you there.

"You're hard right now," you remark out of nowhere.

It's obvious, he can even see right through the milky water that his cock is fully erected and you're not asking, you know it's true.

"What should we do about it?" He asks.

You sip your wine and lick your lips, "That depends on how much money we want to spend tonight," you tell him.

Oh fuck, it's going to be one hell of a night!

CHRIS: [Sighs] Uh... I think I need a loan statement.

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 11 days

Text

FUBAR [AO3]

Female Reader x GHOAP

NSFW 18+ [All of my blog is thus] Minors DNI, I mean it, *Logan Roy voice* Fuck off.

Summary: You, Soap, and Ghost get dosed with sex pollen. Warnings and full fic under the cut.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Dubcon(everyone is into it but high on pheromones), MMF Threesome, MLM, Blowjobs (M giving and receiving), oral F!receiving, dirty talk, soft dom!Simon, very loose sub/dom dynamics, RACK/SSC not really applicable due to sex pollen but it's not bad kink, just not the most realistic, safewords are used, unprotected PiV (reader is on Birth Control), Creampie, Sir Kink, subby Johnny, subby Reader. Let me know if I missed anything! No physical description of reader but Simon moves her around a little (no heavy lifting really). Thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for taking a look/betaing for me.

Word Count: 4,370

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

You rouse slowly to the sound of heavy grunts, desperate sighs, and a wet, slurping sound. You let out a soft whine as the sounds go straight to your core. Your legs clenching together as you try and quell the ache building there.

That’s when the buzzing in your ears starts, low and droning like an incessant fly rattling around your skull. Your entire body aches like you’ve run a marathon, before fighting off a bear. You groan as you try and stretch out your limbs, your eyes slowly adjusting to the low light filling the space around you.

The pitched roof above you is made of thick wooden beams, the orange light emanating from a lamp in the corner casts a romantic hue over everything. You turn your head, searching for the source of the noise and your mouth goes dry.

Soap and Ghost are tangled on the floor a few feet away clothes discarded; their scarred bodies bathed in the ochre light as you watch Ghost cradle Soap’s head in a loving gesture as they break a heated kiss. You bite your lip as you watch the pornographic scene unfold. You realise it’s the first time you’ve seen Ghost without his mask on, he’s strikingly handsome.

His face is scarred, aged lacerations and burns marking his strong jaw, up and through the left side of his plush lips. His nose is somewhat crooked, broken one too many times, and set poorly more than once. He’s beautiful.

There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to speak up, or at the very least roll over to give them some privacy. But you’re transfixed, your panties are soaked through as you dip your hand below the waistline of your trousers.

It’s sick and twisted but you feel yourself burning up even hotter as you toy with your swollen clit as you watch them. But you simply don’t care, it’s like you’ve lost all sense of shame, your inhibitions ripped free from your mind as you watch Soap press open mouthed kisses to Ghost’s chest.

“Go on, Johnny,” He purrs lowly as the smaller man sinks between his thighs, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuck, anything for you, Si,” Johnny responds with a whine as you watch his lips trail further down the scarred expanse of your LT’s body. He nips and sucks on Simon’s nipples and you can’t help but wish that he was worshiping you as well.

“Fuck,” Ghost groans as you witness Johnny’s lips wrap around his cock, “That’s it, Johnny, fuck I need you.”

The desperation in Ghost’s voice makes you squirm as you feel heat rushing through your veins as you rub your fingers desperately over your swollen clit. You’re drenched as you hear the wet sound of Johnny taking Ghost’s thick cock almost all the way to the base.

Johnny works Ghost’s cock like a pro, his thick fingers pressed into Ghost’s muscular thighs as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs in practiced strokes, pulling off almost all the way to suckle around Ghost’s bulbous tip, drawing out harsh choked moans from the gruff, stoic man.

You’re panting like a bitch in heat now, no longer subtle in your movements as you shove your trousers and panties down around your thighs. You’re in too much of a rush to take them off completely as you plunge two fingers inside your aching cunt. You fail to stifle the whine in the back of your throat as you match the increased pace Johnny sets on Ghost’s cock.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Ghost’s growling drawl makes you clench around your fingers, you should feel ashamed, you should stop. But getting caught only spurs you on as you add another finger into your drenched core. You look to your Lieutenant, his scarred, handsome face twisted in a blissed-out snarl as Johnny eases off his cock.

“Don’t stop,” you cry out, voice hoarse as you make eye contact with Johnny whose eyes are wide with shock, “Please, I’m going to come.”

“You heard her, Johnny,” Ghost says with a click of his tongue, “Put on a show.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he talks down to Johnny, but more at the way Johnny moans at the instruction, redoubling his efforts.

The Scot gets sloppier, the loud gluck, gluck, gluck of Ghost’s cock hitting the back of Soap’s throat again and again echoes the squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you try and match his pace.

You hit your peak with a wail as you clamp down on your fingers, pleasure rocking through you in hard bursts. The tightness in your core eases for a spell as you come down from your high just to hear the euphoric roar of Ghost coming down Soap’s throat.

“Fuck,” you groan as you roll onto your side, watching in perverted awe as Soap laps at Ghost’s cock, licking him clean before suckling on his tip slowly. Icy eyes locking with Simon’s hazy, blissed out amber ones before turning his gaze to you.

“Come join us, hen,” Johnny says with his signature smirk as he sits back on his ass, his dick still painfully hard as it slaps against his scarred abdomen.

“Yeah,” Ghost groans as he curls two fingers at you, beckoning for you to join them, “We need to talk.”

You’re moving before you can even process the request, you waddle over with your trousers and panties still rolled down, hands pulling at your shirt and bra as you discard them both somewhere behind you. You’re fumbling with your trousers when a firm hand catches your wrist.

“Slow your roll, sergeant,” Ghost says, his tone serious as you try to look at his face, and not the beautiful dick bobbing between his legs as it still glistens with a combination of Johnny’s spit and his come.

“What happened, what’s wrong with me?” You ask in a hushed whisper as you try and replay the events of the last forty-eight hours.

“You took a grenade for us, you twat,” Ghost says with a low chuckle, “It was a prototype of the chemical weapon we were tracking.”

“Shit,” you suddenly feel itchy, like you’re covered in bugs, “What’s the damage?”

“It was some kind of pheromone bomb,” Soap chimes in as he traces circles over the skin of your exposed ankle, sending shivers up your spine, “Meant to drive people into a blind rage.”

“Instead, it seems like it’s more of an aphrodisiac,” Ghost adds, pointing between himself and Johnny, “We were hit too, trying to save your reckless ass.”

“So, what? You two just got started without me?” You scoff, trying to ease the tension coiling in your belly as you feel the magnetic pull of their bodies as you sit there topless, cunt exposed with your trousers tight around your thighs.

“We weren’t going to touch you in your sleep, hen, come on. What do you take us for?”

“Besides,” Ghost says with a sigh, “We’re not exactly unfamiliar with each other’s cocks,” Johnny flashes Ghost a dazzling smile at that and it clicks into place in your mind.

“Oh, so you’re not into women,” you nod in bitter understanding as you try not to feel rejected, “Do I just go and wank myself to death in the corner then?”

You try to pass it off as a joke, but you can see the way both men look at you. There’s an undeniable yearning etched on both their faces.

“Lass,” Johnny says as he trails his fingertips up to your bunched up trousers, “Gaz thinks we need to fuck this drug out, it’s no good just trying to wank the pain away.”

“Eloquent as ever, Johnny,” Simon sighs but the smirk on his face betrays any attempt at scolding Soap, “But he’s right, Gaz and Price managed to avoid getting dosed, this dumb fuck and I got too close trying to get your limp body out and got a whiff of the stuff.”

“We were worried about you, hen, we care about you.”

“So, you swing both ways?” You ask bluntly, after failing to find a better, less crass way of putting it.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, “And we’ve been sweet on you a while, just didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“But this bullshit kind of forced our hands,” Ghost adds as he flattens his broad palm over the back of one of your hands, “We don’t have to make any promises about what comes next, there’s no pressure from either of us, I hope you know that.”

You nod slowly, your skin burning as you try not to lean in and just kiss Ghost, you know there’s more to be said yet.

“We need to fuck, to survive this,” Johnny says as he moves his hand up to cup your cheek, his crystal blue eyes boring into you as you hold his gaze, “We don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but let us help you.”

“Tell us what you need,” Simon encourages you as he presses his nose against the swell of your bare shoulder as he trails his fingertips up your side, “Tell us what we can do to make you feel good.”

“Help me get out of these,” you gesture to your trousers and panties, “Then fuck me, please.”

“So, you two,” you start as Simon’s fingers slip under the bunched-up fabric to pull your legs free, “You’re an item?”

“Fuckin’ hell, lass,” Johnny groans as he bucks up into your hand as you squeeze him tightly in your clenched fist, “Do you want us to fuck ye or not?”

“Johnny,” Simon snaps in warning as he pulls his fingers from you, you huff at that, but Simon shushes you gently, “Look, we can talk about who’s courting who later, right now, we have bigger priorities.”

“Of course, sorry, sir,” you say without thinking and you watch as Simon’s pupils dilate at the slip. As if the ache in your core wasn’t painful enough. The way the tension just doubled has you squirming under his gaze.

“Fuck, I really want to go easy on you,” he growls as he grabs your waist, turning you around and tearing you away from Johnny as he sits back, legs spread as he pulls you onto his lap, “But you can’t go calling me sir, not right now.”

There’s a warning and a challenge baked into his words as you hear Johnny laugh quietly behind you. The Scot clearly privy to some in-joke you’re eager to find out about.

You consider the quiet, logical voice that’s telling you to just get this over with, fuck and be done with it. But the way Simon’s fingers are digging into the meat of your hips, and the way his cock throbs as you slowly rock your cunt along the underside of it makes you bold.

Or stupid.

“Message received, loud and clear,” you say breathily as you place your hands either side of Simon’s thick neck, thumbs digging up into the underside of his jaw, “L.T.”

“On your knees,” he grunts as you feel him push you back into Johnny’s waiting arms, you hesitate for a second before he glares at you, “That’s an order.”

You do as you are told, the hardwood flooring biting into your shins as you feel Johnny shift behind you. You’re about to turn your head and ask what’s going on when you feel one of Johnny’s palms on the curve of your hip. You’re pitched forward by his other hand pressing between your shoulders, forcing you onto your hands and knees as you look up to see Simon’s face alight with dark desire.

“Work her open Johnny, get her nice and ready for that pretty dick of yours,” he says, delirium edging his tone as he orders Johnny around.

“On it,” Soap says with a peppy lilt to his voice as he spreads your ass cheeks.

“We need a safe word, the moment it becomes too much, too rough – whatever – you say it and we stop,” Simon orders as you look up to see the tip of his cock dangerously close to your lips.

“Ok,” you nod eagerly as you feel Soap’s thumbs digging into your skin to expose your dripping cunt, “FUBAR.”

“Ok we’ll all go with that, immediate stop on FUBAR, you got that, MacTavish?” Simon asks the Scot, and you whine as Johnny nips at your left ass cheek.

“Loud and clear,” he hums in affirmation as he gropes and paws at your spread cheeks impatiently, clearly waiting for the next order.

“Good,” Simon says with a smile as he cups your chin with one hand and fists the base of his cock with the other, “Go on Johnny, don’t be shy.”

You’re barely given a second to think before Soap’s tongue darts out to tease at your entrance. The hot drag of his wet muscle makes you whine as you fixate on the bead of precome dribbling over Simon’s uncut tip.

“Suck,” he says as he presses the sticky head against your lips. You groan as you think of how Soap did it, hoping you live up to that mouthwatering display.

You do as you are told, letting him press his thick, ruddy tip into your mouth as Soap buries his face into your cunt from behind. You groan as you sink down on Simon’s cock, fingertips scraping on the wood floor as the musky, salty taste of his precome coats your tongue.

“Fuck,” Simon rasps as he cups your cheek, rocking his hips slowly as he chases the wet heat of your mouth, “How does she taste, Johnny?”

“So damned sweet,” he responds, voice muffled as he sucks hard on your clit, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin as he glides his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like fucken’ heaven.”

“Hear that?” Simon coos down at you, a sarcastic pout on his scarred lips as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, “You like it when we talk about you like you’re not even here?”

You nod fervently as you stick your tongue out in earnest, begging Simon to put his cock back in your mouth. You’re incensed, overwhelmed and greedy for anything these men can give you.

You try to blame it all on the drugs, but something deep inside you knows it’s more than that. You’ve wanted this for so long.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon says with a low hiss as he taps the head of his cock on your tongue a few times, pulling it back before you can wrap your lips back around it, “She’s a greedy little thing.”

“Please,” you whimper as Soap teases a finger inside you. He buries himself to the knuckle with ease as his lips wrap around your clit. He flicks and swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves as the wet sound of his lips sucking on your sensitive bud fill your ears.

“What is it, love?” Simon asks with condescension heavy on his tongue, the pet name makes you clench around Soap’s thick digit, “What do you need?”

“Fuck me,” you pant as you feel Soap fucking a second finger into your tight cunt, scissoring and stretching you out as he groans into your sensitive skin, “Please, Si.”

“Oh, it’s Si now, is it?” He retorts with an edge to his voice, “Johnny, stop.”

You cry out in frustration as both men stop touching you, leaving you trembling on your hands and knees as the dull ache in your skull returns. You realise your error too late and you’re burning up as you try to make it right.

“Sir, please,” you cry out as your body aches. Your fingers and toes curl and uncurl as you bite your lip in frustration. The ripple of bittersweet humiliation has you clenching around nothing.

“That’s better,” he scoffs with a smirk before addressing Soap, “Think she can take you, Johnny?”

“Fucken’ hope so,” Soap says with a huff as he sinks two fingers back inside you with no warning, “I need to fuck you, can I, hen?”

You’re panting and whining as you look up to Simon for approval. The wet squelching sounds of Johnny’s fingers fucking in and out of your cunt loud in the otherwise quiet room as you feel pleasure scorching a path down your spine. You’re close but you need more, so much more.

“You ready?” Simon asks as he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones.

“Yes, sir, please, I need you, need you both.”

“You heard her, Johnny, give the poor thing what she needs,” Simon commands as he lines his tip at your lips once more.

You’re greedy and impatient as you take as much of his thick length in as you can manage. You moan around his cock as Johnny notches himself at your core, the stretch already making your thighs tremble.

“C’mere, Johnny,” Simon growls as you look up to see the larger man grip Soap by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together as Johnny’s hips buck forwards. The stretch burns pleasantly as he sheaths himself fully inside you. You’re so impossibly full. The angle of their kiss has your nose pressed to the base of Simon’s cock, his wiry pubic hair brushing your nose as you struggle to control your gag reflex.

You’re a whining mess as you watch them kiss, tongues battling for dominance as you choke down on Simon’s girthy cock. It’s excruciating being held so still, so full of them, it doesn’t take long before you’re tapping out on Simon’s thigh, begging for relief.

The men separate with heavy exhales, a string of spit connecting their lips momentarily before they both look down at you with hungry eyes.

“Sorry, hen, you ok?” Johnny asks as he slowly eases almost all the way back out of you, the heft of his cock dragging deliciously through your walls. You clench hard around his tip, pulling a soft groan from his lips as you squeeze him.

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly before smiling up at them both, “Fucking amazing.”

“Such a good girl for us,” Simon coos as he lowers himself down to kiss you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You groan as Johnny starts to pick up the pace, you plant desperately into Simon’s open mouth as he lingers with his forehead pressed against yours. A surprisingly tender gesture that makes your chest flutter.

He exhales through his nose as he rocks back onto his knees. He straightens back up, cock held out for you as pearly precome beads at the tip. You lap it up eagerly before suckling on the tip, tongue delving under his foreskin and dipping into his slit.

“Fuck,” Simon growls as he places both hands on either side of your face, pulling your mouth down on his cock, “Too good at that, sweetheart, giving Johnny a run for his money,” he snarls as he gently rocks his hips, feeding you more and more of his cock with every thrust, “God, you look so pretty like this.”

“Aye,” Johnny whines as he squeezes your hips, already starting to snap you back against him with such force you’re mewling around Ghost’s cock, “Look at that ass fucken’ bounce”.” Johnny’s last words are punctuated by the sound of your cheeks slapping against his thick thighs as he delivers two brutal thrusts into your slick walls.

You’re so close, the fire burning under your skin rages on as you swallow around Simon’s cock, breathing heavily through your nose as you feel your throat contract as he pushes in deeper again.

“Shit, Si, I’m close,” Soap groans as he slips a hand between your legs, two thick fingers pressing hard against your clit.

“You’re on brith control right, love?” Simon snarls as he swipes the tears that fall down your cheeks with his thumbs, you nod around his cock and he smirks to himself.

“Come inside her, Johnny, fill her up,” he commands as he withdraws from your mouth once more and you’re about to protest when he tuts, “Want to hear your sweet little moans as you come.”

Johnny pulls you back against him, fingers of his one hand still swirling over your throbbing clit, the other wraps around your throat. You cry out as he fucks up into you as Simon crowds you from the front.

“Come for me, Johnny,” he growls as he presses his chest against you, his cock firm against your belly as he kisses Johnny roughly. His one hand fists in the base of Johnny’s Mohawk as the other grips your waist, pinning you between them.

The smothering heat makes you gasp as your orgasm rips through you, your vision blurs as you clench hard around Johnny’s cock. You’re crying out, a whining mess as Simon ruts against your front, while Johnny fucks you in hard, erratic thrusts as he reaches his peak.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growls as you feel the hot pulse of his cum splattering against your stomach, followed closely by the last few thrusts from Johnny into your quivering cunt from behind.

Johnny groans low in your ear as he comes deep inside you, his dick twitching with every spurt inside your pulsing walls. You fall forward into Simon’s arms as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

“There you go,” Simon says with a softness so unlike him as the three of you sink to the floor together.

You huddle there for some time, two pairs of lips leaving trailing kisses along your chest, your shoulders, and neck. They kiss one another from time to time, slow, lingering, as you bask in the affection shared between them. Rough fingertips glide over your skin, mapping the curves of your body in a silent display of affection.

“Need to clean up,” Simon finally grunts as you feel his come sticking to your joined bodies as Johnny’s come leaks down your thighs, “Then, sleep.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny grumbles as he slowly eases out of you.

There’s a tension in your chest, the haze of the drug clearly abating, replaced now with an anxiety that threatens to eat you alive.

You finish up cleaning up with a stack of wet wipes you had in bergen to do a half-decent job at cleaning off the evidence of the evening’s activities from your skin. You pull on your t-shirt and trousers before looking up to see Johnny and Simon are sat together against the wall near where you had been lying earlier that evening.

They’re also fully dressed, and there’s an ache in your chest that makes you needy for their touch, to be skin-to-skin with them again.

“Hey,” you say, barely more than a whisper as you slump in a heap a few feet in front of them.

Johnny’s curled into Simon’s side, head on the larger man’s shoulder. He’s barely awake as he looks up to address you.

“What’s up, hen?” Johnny asks, bright blue eyes glimmering in the low light.

“Yeah, talk to us,” Simon chimes in as he pats the space to his left.

You crawl over slowly, unsure if you should take the space being offered to you.

“What does this all mean? For us, after all this, what do we do now?”

“Whatever you want, hen,” Johnny says, blinking rapidly to shake the fatigue from his eyes, attempting address you more clearly, “We don’t have to put any meaning to this if you don’t want to.”

“Or,” Simon rumbles as he places a hand against the swell of your shoulder, “We can get back home and see how it all plays out, for the three of us, together.”

You consider it for a moment, trying not to make a rash decision, for all you know the drug could still be affecting your decision making. But there’s a wholesome warmth burning under your cheeks as both men look at you with deeply affectionate grins.

“I think I’d like to see where this goes for us, if you’re happy with that?” You ask quietly, fear gnawing at your insides.

“I’d love that,” Johnny says with a gentle yawn.

“So would I,” Simon agrees as he pulls both of you tight against him, “Now sleep, we’ve got a busy few days ahead to get to the exfil on time.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Johnny say in unison, which causes you all to laugh.

It feels too good to be true, too easy.

But for now, you don’t let it bother you, and you fall asleep in a blissful haze as you let yourself hope that something good will come out of this.

“Wait,” you perk up with morbid realisation, “Where are Gaz and Price?”

“In the next room,” Soap says with a smirk on his face, “Probably heard the whole thing.”

“Fuck off, Si, tell me he’s joking?”

“Negative, but it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have caught us fucking,” he shrugs as he flashes you a toothy grin.

“Well, it’s the first fucking time they’ve heard me,” you groan as you bury your face into Ghost’s side, heat burning under your skin as you try not to think about what your CO and fellow sergeant just heard.

“They’ll get used to it,” Soap says as he finds one of your hands and laces his fingers through your own, “Besides, I recon we could convince them both to join in the fun.”

“Johnny,” Simon growls in a half-hearted warning.

“Alrigh’, I’m just kidding,” Soap squeezes your hand in his, “Get some sleep, hen, we’re here for you, no matter what.”

You grumble in discontent as you squeeze back before hunkering down against Simon’s broad form.

Maybe it’s the effects of the drug, but your mind starts to wander as you drift off. You can’t help but imagine what it would have been like if it had been Gaz and Price in here instead of Johnny and Simon.

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you let your imagination run wild.

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