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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [5.9K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh no, you know you know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying, For someone I could die for, someone I could try for Fall apart and cry for, go 'head, risk my life for."

-Someone I Could Die For by Lewis Capaldi

II. ROME, ITALY: 49 BC

The roar that came from the bowels of the Colosseum never became easier to hear.

The noise seemed to make the city shake, the streets empty, the market stalls abandoned in favour of bloodshed. The games took place in the summer, when the skies were an endless blue and there were no clouds to tamper down the climbing heat. The sun bore down on the sandy pit of the enormous Amphitheatre and the seats were filled, the doors that had already been closed still surrounded by regretful stragglers who were forced to listen to the chaos from outside of the walls.

Fourteen men had died already, three from the jaws of the lions, two from the bears and eleven from the swords of other imprisoned slaves. The cheering from the crowd made your stomach curl. The floor of the stage was covered in red, the sand streaked with spilled blood and the animals that were bullied back into their cages had their jaws tinted pink.

It wasn’t a joyous occasion, no matter how many people celebrated in the name of their emperor. The leader of Rome was sitting mere seats away from you, dressed in ruby robes that were slung like a cloak over his white toga and his laurel crown glinted with golden beads that sat tucked into the olive wreaths. He was drunk on wine and violence, and your father sat next to him in the royal box, ever eager to please as he clinked his chalice against his kings.

Being the daughter of Rome’s most beloved senator certainly had its positives. You were dressed just as finely as the royalty around you, the fabric that was made to fit your frame swept to the floor and only yesterday, the emperor’s cousin had gifted you a necklace made of the finest gold, inset with glittering emeralds, pretty enough for a princess.

The same cousin smiled at you from across the row, each seat in the royal box made from plush velvet, the high backs ornate and cushioned, unlike the stone carved benches the rest of the civilians were sitting on. You smile back, uneasy but polite, and your father nodded approvingly.

You were expected to marry, you knew that much. You were already considered too old to be unwed and you knew the rest of the court whispered about how you would now struggle to bear a child. But the man that was expected to be your husband wasn’t who you loved. He wasn’t unkind, he wasn’t cruel - not like you’d heard men could be. The girls in the kitchen would tell you stories of how their husband made demands. Shouting each night for their meals, their baths, how their shirts weren’t stitched right, how their beds would lay cold because their wives were too tired.

Some men visited the bath houses, you knew that much. Seeking out a lupa for the night, the ladies that were called she-wolves, with their painted lips and robes that showed so much skin. Some men decided that they didn’t need to listen to their wives at all, you were once told, horror etched on your face. Some men took what they thought they owned.

So no, the emperor’s cousin seemed kind enough. But you weren’t in love with him. You weren’t sure who you were in love with. A dream, perhaps. One that kept returning to you from a young, young age. A dream about a different town, one you’d never been to before. But in your sleep, it felt like home. White buildings and green gardens with tall, tall trees and pretty, ornate gazebos made of stone on the edges of shallow ponds. You were by the sea there, a blue-green ocean that seemed so calm.

Sometimes monsters came, the marble statues that guarded the city came to life and turned your dream into a nightmare. There was always fire and fury, storm clouds and too big waves and a man with skin the colour of death would try and take your hand. But even when the dream turned bad, there was always someone else.

A man, with a blurry face and a mess of almost too long hair. It hid his eyes from you and you could never make out too many details but you burned when you looked at him, you could weep when he touched you. Sometimes he led you through the burning town, his hand clasping your own as you both tried to run and run and run.

Other times, you lay in a bed with him, skin bare and your head on his chest as he murmured the sweetest poetry to you, words that made your heart race. Your dream was encased in white linen sheets, a hazy, soft light that always made it look like early morning and when the man’s lips met yours, you always woke up.

Him. You loved him.

You hadn’t been in love before, but whenever you dreamed of the stranger, you were sure that must have been what love felt like.

“Have some grapes, darling,” your thoughts were interrupted by your father as he thrust a plate of fruit and cheese under your nose.

But the fifteenth gladiator was being dragged through the gates by the armpits, a clawed hammer still sticking out from his chest and your insides turned over at the idea of eating such sweet treats as blood poured from the men in front of you. The emperor’s box was almost nauseatingly close to the fights.

You shook your head before you remembered your manners, smiling politely and murmuring, “I’m quite alright, thank you.” You blew out a breath, shaky and faint.

From your other side, one of the young girls who had been gifted to you on your sixteenth birthday waved a giant fan. A large peacock feather, a huge plume of colours that merely wafted the too warm air back and forth but you smiled your thanks at your lady in waiting, a pretty girl who’d turned into a prettier young woman. She was small and lithe, angular in the face with curls that came to her sharp jawbone and she smiled back.

Nancy, as she’d introduced herself to you a week after she’d arrived at your fathers house, from the Wheeler family of Liguria. She didn’t like the gladiator fights anymore than you did, always murmuring about the rights of the animals and how inhumane it was later in the night as she drew you your bath.

“—from Verona,” your father was saying with a mouth full of provolone. “One of their best, so they say, His Majesty simply had to have him.”

You blinked, frowning in confusion at your fathers words. You hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest and nothing you’d caught made any sense. “Sorry?” You grimaced apologetically and took a few pomegranate seeds from the plate of food in apology for your rudeness. “Who is from Verona?”

Your father rolled his eyes, a sure sign that you’d be lectured in his study later for your lack of respect. “The next gladiator, child.” He gestured to the stage where the soldiers were locking the gates to the tigers, each big cat growling with menace when the men came too close to the bars. “They say he’s unbeatable. Our Highness offered a more than generous helping of coin for his papers but Verona’s general didn’t seem to want to part with him.”

You frowned again. The crowd seemed to be aware of this man and his presence, murmuring and shifting in their seats in anticipation. “If that is the case,” you prodded. “Then how is he here? If the gladiators… owner—” the word left a terribly bitter taste in your mouth and you felt heavy with guilt when Nancy’s fan brushed your shoulder. “If his owner didn’t want to sell him?”

Your father snorted, an unattractive sound that made Nancy wince beside you. “No one tells the emperor of Rome ‘no’, dearest.” Your father shrugged. “The gladiator cannot be owned, if his owner is dead.”

Bloodshed. Always bloodshed.

A man came from the east side gates with chains around his ankles and wrists. You couldn’t quite see him for your seat, not yet, but the crowd above and around you roared, eager for the final fight to begin. The man already looked beaten and tired as soldiers stepped forward to unlock his manacles and you sat forward in your seat for the first time since you entered the Colosseum that day.

He had messy hair, dark brown and hanging just past his chin. It was already damp looking, matted and dirty from being kept god knows where as the emperor's new toy. He was shirtless, his body lean but corded with muscle. He had wide shoulders and a lithe waist, powerful thighs and skin that was tanned from the sun, a sure sign he spent too much time outside, training hard in the Italian heat.

As he moved closer to the middle of the stage, you saw the marks on his body, leftover scars and new slices in his flesh that still looked viciously red. The crowd got louder as a sword was thrown at his feet, a large, heavy looking thing with a bronze handle. Some cheered for the new warrior, hoping for some excitement, while others jeered and booed, already too attached to their darling reigning champion.

The gladiator picked up his sword and the crowd became wilder still, but he gave them no mind. He didn’t put on a show like some of the others, he didn’t flex his muscles or raise his weapon like it was already a prize. His leather loincloth was a deep wine colour, the tan leather pleats looking far from newly made and the material was already streaked with blood and dirt before his first opponent arrived.

Your heart felt heavy for him, as it did for all the others who were forced into the Colosseum - prisoners, slaves and animals alike. You watched the gladiator flex his wrist, testing the weight of his weapon just as the gates in the west cranked open.

Rome’s current champion strode out from the shadows and into the bright sun, his bare chest glinting with sweat and Hargrove held his hands aloft, grinning as the crowds went insane. He beat his chest, his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and when he was handed his own sword, he wasted no time in running towards the new fighter, the steel blade glinting.

You gasped, moving closer still to the edge of your seat and you couldn’t find it in you to bear much mind to the looks your father and Nancy shot you. It wasn’t like you to take such an interest in the sport, never mind be so heavily invested. You didn’t like to watch the wounded, preferring to close your eyes when the screams began, hiding cowardly behind Nancy’s fan when the blood turned the sandy stage pink and red.

But this new gladiator, he was fast.

He dove at the last second, dodging the tip of Hargrove’s blade and he rolled towards the section where you sat. Dust kicked up from the move, his sword tearing into the wreaths and sashes that hung from the Emperor’s box. You grasped the edge of the wooden frame, peering over the side and down to the stage, hoping to not see blood already.

Instead you found the gladiator looking back up at you, his sword still in his grasp and when his eyes met yours, they widened. Something like recognition hurtled through you, a feeling that sucked the breath from your lungs and you felt dizzy, like lightning itself had struck you from the sky. You thought the man perhaps felt the same, a frown on his face telling you that he felt just as confused as you did.

But before you could consider where on earth you could have possibly seen his face before, Hargrove attacked again, bringing his blade down to where the gladiator's shoulder should have been, if he hadn’t rolled once again.

You were on your feet now, the stares of your father be damned. Your eyes were wide, your heart beating far too fast, like you yourself were on the stage, being hunted for sport. Wood splintered into the space under your nails as you watched the man run, his muscles pumping, his eyes narrowed.

“Darling, are you quite alright?” Your father placed a hand on your arm, more confused than concerned.

“Yes, I just— yes.” You cleared your throat and sat down again, albeit back to the edge of your chair. You could feel the rest of the royal party staring at you. “Where did you say the man was brought from? The new gladiator?”

“Harrington?” One of the Emperor’s councilmen interjected. He pointed a pudgy finger at the brown haired gladiator, who was now swinging his sword with as much power as Hargrove. “Steven Harrington of Verona, best of his breed I heard. His general didn’t take too kindly to the King’s offering and well— you know what happens when his Highness is made to feel upset.”

The metallic clink of the swords filled the arena as everyone held their breaths. Not many had lasted this long against Hargrove before.

“Rumour has it that he didn’t take too kindly to his general being beheaded. Took six men to get him into the back of the cart, even more to make him train. He’s been refusing food all week.”

The idea of it made you feel unwell, a sickly, creeping kind of pain curling around each of your ribs and suddenly you were starving, just as much as you were sure the man would be. But still, I didn’t seem to make him move any slower, it didn’t hinder him in bringing his sword down any harder.

But strangely, every time the new gladiator was struck, every time his knees hit the raw sand, every time he got close enough for you to see him suck in a gasping breath— you felt it too.

It was a battle like you’d never seen before, more vicious than the others from that day, a showdown under the blazing heat of the high sun. No tiger seemed as powerful as Steven Harrington of Verona did. There was something animalistic in the way he moved, all power and lean muscle, a steely glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t dare look away from. He moved too quickly for Hargrove’s blade, dodging and diving as he flung up sand, blinding his opponent and slicing at his legs. Each move was a blur, the stage bleeding with fresh red, the blonde gladiator on his knees.

But Hargrove was ruthless, grappling with the newcomer until they were both wrestling in the dust cloud and the crowd went insane, people chanted and stomped their feet, the amphitheatre shaking down to its very bones. The imperial box quaked with the energy, but truly, you weren’t present enough to feel it.

Your eyes never left Steven’s fighting figure.

The swords seemed to be forgotten, the steel blades rusted with blood, both fresh and new, and they lay in the sand. Fists flew, knees pressed to chests to keep the other down and it was brutal, it was harsh, it was deadly.

You wanted to vomit. You feared you might.

You wondered what would happen if you leapt from your chair, if you let your skirts get torn and bloodied in the mess of the stage, if you threw yourself down onto the sand and begged for Hargrove to take his hands away from the new gladiator's throat.

Would you be punished? Beaten? Locked away? Killed?

You weren’t sure but somehow, all the options felt worth it. You couldn’t watch this man die before you. Not when it felt like you’d already witnessed his death before.

But Steven wrestled himself out of Hargrove’s hold, twisting and tumbling whilst he gasped, one hand clutching at his reddened neck and the other grappling for his blade. He swung it through the air, arching wide, his wounded shoulder ripping with effort it took but the sword landed where the warrior intended it to.

Silence settled over the colosseum, the air still enough for you to hear the surviving champion heave out gasping, heavy breaths. There was blood on his hands, his chest, his face.

His right eye was already bruising, red and lilac coming to the surface of his skin like fresh blooms in spring. His shoulder was a mess, his right leg causing him to buckle slightly as he rose to his feet.

The man turned, jaw slack, his sword falling limply to the ground once more, his opponent still and at his feet. His eyes found yours and time stilled, at least, to you. The crowd erupted, an explosion in its own right, the entirety of Rome cheering for their new champion.

A man you were sure you already loved.

By the time the fight had ended, you felt beaten and bruised. There were no marks on your skin, no blood seeping through your gown, but something inside of you hurt all the same. It felt like something was clawing at your heart, a memory that was banging on the front of your skull, screaming at you to remember.

When the guards dragged the gladiator from Hargrove’s limp figure, he dropped his sword to the sand and spat a mouthful of blood towards the ground at the royal pit. The Emperor merely chuckled as others around you gasped and before you could even hear your fathers protests, you were on your feet.

Steven Harrington was shackled once more, the metal chains clinking around his hands and feet. And as he was led away back into the arches, the gears of gates making an awful protesting noise, his eyes found yours once more.

A burning gaze, too intense to look away from and you could’ve sworn on the gods, on the stars above, that something inside of you tugged sharply. Like the pull of a string, tied in a bow between your ribcage, urging you forward.

Telling you to go.

So you did.

You gathered your skirts in your hands and made your way to the exit of the box, too focused to hear your fathers objections until the guards at the doorway halted you with their spears. The wooden stalks crossed themselves over your chest and you froze, the string tied to your heart pulling tighter and tighter and tighter—

The Emperor was staring at you, with cold eyes and a smile that wasn’t really a smile. He spoke to your father, not you. “Where, my dear senator, is your lovely daughter running off to?” The king turned back to you, brows raised. “Doesn’t she know that more wine will be served soon? My cousin is looking forward to her company.”

Your father stared at you, a stricken expression on his aged face because everyone in the royal box could read between the lines of the Emperor.

You cleared your throat, eyes still trained on the sharp metal points of the spears that were very much in your face. “Forgive me, father - your highness - I was merely hoping to get some fresh air.”

“The sight of all that blood makes her rather delicate,” your father agreed and the crowd of councilmen, generals and their wives tittered in their jewels. “She isn’t one for conflict.”

The Emperor stared at the side of your face, something you could feel despite bowing your head in his presence. You stared at the floor and waited, heart racing.

The royal tsked. “What a pity,” he declared but he waved a hand, each finger heavy with golden rings, and his soldiers stepped aside. “Be back in time for the parade, child, you have company to entertain.”

The Emperor’s cousin leered at you, his wine glass empty, his lips stained ruby but none of it mattered right now, not when you were taking off once more, skirts dragging across the dust and sand, your chest heaving as you tried to navigate your way through the crowd that was already dispersing.

More guards, heavily armoured and with their swords drawn, were too preoccupied with a fight that had broken out between the arches, two lower class men arguing over a coin they found on the ground. Taking your chance, you moved with your head down, your face hidden as you slipped through a door that was normally carefully watched.

The heavy wood slammed shut behind you, the sunlight swallowed whole. Burning torches lit the narrow corridor, a maze of them leading you underneath the Colosseum. The hypogeum was almost damp as you tried to navigate its many walkways, a gasp leaving your throat as you took a wrong turn and ended up face to face with the iron bars that separated you from the animals.

A huge tiger growled at you, bloodied teeth bared in a snarl, the stench of raw meat and faeces hanging in the cool air. You backed away, eyes flickering from cage to cage, each one filled with another poor creature. Lions, bears, a rhinoceros and its offspring, and beyond them, an even larger cell holding prisoners. They all stared at you, men and animals alike, but nothing was spoken.

You backed away, unable to breath, turning on your heel and walking quickly enough to spot the familiar grey robes of the healers used after the battles. You followed, your steps light, and watched him enter a small room. Between the door opening and closing, you spotted the gladiator perched on a wooden table, his head bent low and his face hidden behind his damp hair.

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but before you barged into the room too, both men staring at you from the table where the healer held a ragged cloth to the gladiator’s shoulder.

“Miss, you have no need here,” the healer announced, his voice strict and cold. He narrowed his eyes as he gestured to the door. “This is no place for—”

“My father sent me.” It was a lie, of course. A bold and bare faced one at that. But you stood a little taller and lifted your chin, the emerald necklace at your throat shining in the low light that came from the small fireplace in the corner. “The senate has questions I’ve been asked to deliver. I shall not leave without the appropriate answers.”

On the mantle, beside bottles of acids and other medicinal vials, sat a small statue of the goddess Veratis. Her marble eyes seemed to judge you and your lies and you swallowed down the bitter taste it left on your tongue. But looking at the man - this stranger from Verona - the need to speak to him, to be alone with him, was overwhelming you to the point of senselessness.

The trouble you could be in if you were to be caught in your lie… or worse, down in the hypogeum. This was no place for a woman of your standing, never mind to be alone with a gladiator, both of you unspoken for. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“If we may have some time alone?” You added with more authority than you should have held. “Unless you’d prefer that my father leave the Emperor’s side to ensure his orders are fulfilled?”

The healer sighed but placed down his tools. He flashed you a smile that was all crooked teeth, more bite than kindness, but he made his way to the door. “That won’t be necessary, My Lady,” he told you and he left, closing the wooden door behind him.

The silence was a deafening thing. The crackle of the fire was still there, the distant roar of some poor, wounded animal, but whatever was held between the two of you took on a life of its own. It seemed to suck the rest of the world into it until there was nothing left but you and this man. He was staring at you still, brown eyes wide and so familiar, looking as confused as you felt as you stared right back.

It felt too easy to take a step forward, but the warrior flinched. Your next was slower, softer, more cautious. Your hand found the rag that the healer had once held, what little water it had been soaked in was cold, the material harsh. It didn’t take you long to find a new cloth in one of the drawers of the apothecary table and you took your time to warm some fresh water over the hearth.

Honestly, you didn’t know too much about medicine, only the basics that your father’s head servant had taught you as a young child. You found the small bottle of alcohol with ease, plucking it from the shelf and adding it to the warm water before soaking the new rag.

You held it up in offering to the man, still far enough from you that his dirty hair hid most of his face. His tanned chest was streaked with sweat and dust, marred with old cuts and fresher wounds from Hargrove’s weapon, but for the most part, he seemed okay.

“Can I?”

The gladiator lifted his head then, his hair falling away from his cheeks and you took in a sharp breath at the sight of his face. He was handsome, painstakingly so, but over and above all else, he was someone you were sure you knew.

The man nodded, just once, lips pressed together and as you came closer, his nostrils flared and his large hands gripped the edge of the table. His eyes raced across your features, recognition coming to the surface and before he could ask the questions that were clawing at his throat, you lifted the cloth and pressed it to the cut on his shoulder.

He hissed, teeth bared and you frowned, hushing him softly, apologies murmured just as quiet. “I’m sorry,” you told him and gods, he knew you meant it. “I need the alcohol to soak the wound.”

Your heart stuttered when he let you, shoulders tight and back ramrod straight, but his eyes were on your face the entire time you worked. “You’re not a healer,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

His voice rung through you, a deep timber that was hoarse and scratchy, no doubt from refusing to speak since his capture. You hoped he’d been drinking enough water.

You shook your head as you pulled away, dipping the bloodied cloth back into the bucket. “No, I’m not,” you confirmed.

Another swipe at his skin had him jerking in response but the blood and dirt was finally clear of the cut. It would need stitches, you were almost sure of it, but your skills started and finished at the basics.

“Then why are you here?” The gladiator’s eyes were trained on your necklace, a sure fire way to recognise nobility and you were overcome with the urge to rip it from your throat. “Why did you follow me?” He spoke like he already knew the answer.

You were hesitant about it, but you couldn’t stop your hand from lifting to his neck, fingertips brushing two beauty marks on his skin. They felt electric under your touch and you were impossibly warmer now, despite the old cell lacking the heat from the summer above.

“I feel like I know you,” you whispered. Your voice cracked with an emotion you didn’t quite know the name of. “I feel like I’ve mourned you.”

The gladiator looked back at you from behind his damp hair, the long strands matted with his and his enemies blood. He didn’t look as concerned as he should have been at your strange words. In fact, he leaned into your touch, lashes fluttering at the sensation.

“What an odd thing to say to someone who hasn’t died,” he answered quietly. But his gaze roamed over your features and something about being so close to him felt cosmic, it felt like a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I think I’ve met you before,” the gladiator whispered. He sounded reverent now, his own hand shaking as he brought it to your face.

He cupped your jaw, your chin, his rough fingertips trailing over your soft skin and when his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, you gasped and pressed closer.

“I think I meet you when I sleep,” he said and he frowned at his own words, at how confusing he must’ve sounded. “Every night, when I close my eyes. You’re in a garden and then you’re in my arms.”

Flashes of a bed came to mind, white linen sheets and too much bare skin. A man’s chest, tanned and muscled from hard labour, your hands that roamed the expanse of his back. You remembered how he kissed you in your dreams, with a longing so intense it could waken the gods.

Like he had enough love for you that he could end the world.

You could only nod. His thumb was still pushed to your bottom lip, your mouth parted as if you were waiting and his stare was so intense you felt warmer than you had in the stadium above.

Who was this stranger?

And why did it feel like something inside of you was being stitched back together by the sheer sight of him? His touch felt healing, it felt like home. Like it was only made for you to feel. Like he was made only for you.

Above, something boomed. Loud enough to be heard underneath the hypogeum, over the roars of the unsettled animals. If you had been outside, you would’ve witnessed the blue sky turning grey, shades of moody lavender and navy, storm clouds rolling across Rome from seemingly nowhere.

Thunder rumbled, threatening noise, something that made you and the man move closer to each other, like you both knew you were in danger.

That you knew something bad was coming.

“I don’t understand,” you said, eyes blurring. You weren’t sure why you were crying but Steve didn’t seem to question it. He merely swiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. “You’re a stranger— we’ve never— we’ve never met.”

Despite your words, the gladiator moved closer, standing from his seat on the wooden table to lean his forehead against your own. Your eyes slipped closed, nose bumping his. He smelled like metal, like blood and dirt and sweat but underneath there was something like fire there, like molten iron, like lavender fields and fresh cotton. Like a daydream, like something you weren’t sure was real.

His bottom lip touched your top one, only just, only barely. A whisper of a kiss, a small insight of something that could’ve been, of something that maybe once was.

Thunder rolled again, louder than before, as if it was right above you both. Even over the din of the crowds above, you could hear the heavy patter of rain that was now flooding the colosseum, the stage soaked. Another warning, something you’d seen before in a dream just before it turned to a nightmare.

“I was meant to find you,” Steve murmured. He had your face cradled in his hands, an overwhelmingly gentle touch despite the dried blood under his fingernails. His voice grew in urgency then, like he knew something was coming. Someone. “I was meant to come here. I can feel it. I understand now.”

“Someone once told me you’d come back,” you suddenly remembered, your voice eager, your eyes wide at the memory. “I don’t know— was it you? From before? From—”

From another life, you wanted to say.

How ridiculous those words were, how silly, how stupid. But there wasn’t any other way to explain. Logic didn’t seem to exist when everything you felt from this touch of this stranger led you to believe that somehow, someway, you’d spend a lifetime together.

Like you were supposed to spend this one with him too. And it didn’t seem long enough, decades wouldn’t make up for the time you’d lost searching for him, for this stranger who only came to you in your sleep. But he was very real now, solid flesh and bone underneath your own hands, brown eyes that seemed warmer than the Italian summer.

You didn’t want to let him go.

“In here, my King,” a voice interrupted. The door was open and the healer had returned, a cold look on his already stern face. The Emperor was behind him, ruby robes collecting dirt from the old floor. Four soldiers flanked him. “I have every reason to believe the Lady sold me lies, Your Highness.”

It happened too quick. Too fast.

The Emperor studied you, Steve’s hands still on your face as you stood too close, ready to kiss, ready to fulfil something neither of you were sure of. It felt catalytic.

“Seize him,” was all the Emperor said, one lazy flick of his wrist sending all four guards at you both.

There was too much movement in the tiny room, bottles of medicinal wares clattering to the ground and smashing at your feet. The table groaned as Steve was shoved into it, his own reactions too slow from his injuries. He grunted and reached for you too late, his hand slipping from your own, fingers barely touching, as he was shoved at from either side.

One soldier shoved the butt of his sword into Steve’s wounded soldier, the other bringing his armoured knee into his bare stomach. The gladiator doubled over, a gasp leaving his chest before he fell to his knees on the stone floor.

“Stop this!” You yelled, urging forward, trying your best to throw yourself into the mix of it all but someone’s arms - another soldier - caught your round the middle. “Unhand him! Your Highness - please - he hasn’t done any wrong, please—”

The Emperor just looked at you blankly before he picked at the jewels around your neck. He tutted, as if it were a shame, a waste. You could hear the shackles being placed back on the man, the low groan he gave as the metal was tightened around his sore wrists.

“He won,” you whispered, your voice low and choked. You were ready to beg. “Please, he won. He doesn’t deserve this—”

“I don’t like anyone else playing with my toys,” the Emperor interrupted. He said it like he was discussing what to have for lunch. “And my dear cousin doesn’t like anyone playing with his.” He motioned to the guards once more. “Take her back to her seat, where you make sure she stays. This isn’t any place for a Lady,” he told you mournfully.

You didn’t get to see what happened to the gladiator as you were escorted out of the room. But you did hear his yells when the door slammed shut, the dull thuds of impact that you were sure were on his already bruised and broken body. You hadn’t even told him your name, or that you dreamt of him too. That during your worst night terrors, he was the one that saved you.

When you reached the imperial box once more, your skirts dirtied from the sand, your face tear stricken, you felt broken. Like you’d been snapped in half, like someone had found that wound Steve had stitched up and pulled it apart again the seams. Like someone had ripped something important from you, half of your heart, perhaps.

You didn’t even notice that it had stopped raining. The skies were blue once more, the sun shining, the only evidence of the sudden storm were the drops of rain that had soaked into the pillow on your chair.

Steve was gone and the thunder was too.

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theocannibalistic · 5 months

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mistress of mushrooms, doula of death

ID: a digital drawing of Moonshine Cybin from Not Another D&D Podcast on a pink background. Moonshine is a fat crick elf woman with freckled olive green skin, gap teeth, brown eyes and dark red hair in braids, depicted from the waist up in green overalls. She has coral earrings, a necklace of teeth and a crown of gears. Different types of mushrooms sprout from her hair, skin and clothes. Pawpaw, a small possum, sits on her left shoulder while she scratches his ear.

#my art #moonshine cybin #naddpod #not another dnd podcast #moonshine naddpod #pawpaw naddpod #possum #been rethinking my color scheme for her lately but i do rlly like this one so i figured i'd share :3 #described #accessible art

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unrealcity-if · 7 months

Text

a cyberpunk interactive fiction

demo: prologue 1&2, 20k. play here.

Streets, empty - gnarled roots burying deep below the city. The gleam of teeth, an endless buzzing like flies. Dry, dead rock. There was water here once. Now toxic sludge seeps into the dirt, leeching life from the land. They staked metal, twisted it into the dead earth to block out the sky. They know that is too late, but they try to defy fate all the same.

Esurio is a city divided. You know this all too well. As a smuggler of black-market tech into the city from the outlands, you would like nothing better than to be free of Esurio once and for all. Yet the city seems to pull people in, and after a job gone wrong you find yourself entangled in a net of lies, inexplicably strange murders, and the one question that no-one knows the answer to -

What lies below Esurio?

[features]

pay off your debt through smuggling goods into the city

run from law enforcement

investigate strange murders, while trying not to end up the next victim

regret every life decision you have made

uncover what lies below the city?

meet (and optionally romance) 5 companions - 2 gender selectable

finally free yourself from Esurio?

[companions]

[ros]

Argo [nb] they/them, asexual :

If there's anyone in Esurio that you trust, it would be them. They've been by your side since you were young : first as friends and then (literal) partners in crime. When they were younger, they dreamt of changing the world. At some point they buried that dream. For now they keep to smuggling, hacking, and breaking every speed limit possible.

Appearance - shoulder-length coily dark brown hair, medium brown skin, dark brown eyes. prides themself on wearing the most colourful jacket they can find, and wouldn't know colour or outfit coordination if it hit them in the face.

Sora [f/m] she/her or he/him :

A private investigator with a moralistic streak. They attempt to fill in the gaps left by law-enforcement, dealing in all kinds of information, and know practically anything on anyone, while remaining a perpetually shadowy figure themselves. Motivated by curiousity and an alarming lack of self-preservation instincts, they're determined to uncover the truth about Esurio at all costs.

Appearance - straight, dark brown hair that flops over their brown eyes. olive skin. always wears a leather jacket and heavy boots: dresses practically. carries gadgets + a notepad in their bag: they are prepared for anything, especially a high speed pursuit across rooftops.

Brontë [f/m/nb] she/her, he/him, or he/they :

A failed musician with a trail of poor decisions behind them. They were going to make it big in the underground music scene, until, one day, they weren't. Cast-out and adrift, they're cynical and conflicted, a perfect example of a delicately poised balancing act. It's only a matter of time before they fall.

Appearance - wavy blond hair, dyed purple at the ends, reaching about chin length. pale, freckled skin and green eyes. wears light jackets, oversized tshirts, boots that are falling apart, and as many bracelets as possible.

Asha [f] she/they :

She ran with Argo, Jaya and you for several years, after her illustrious political family abruptly fell from grace and she had to look out for herself any way she could. A skilled mechanic, and never one to back down from a fight, she bounces from person to person, always living life at high speed. After Jaya's disappearance, she split from the group, and you haven't spoken to her since.

Appearance - straight, shoulder-length black hair. dark brown skin and dark brown eyes. wears work overalls most of the time, and is frequently covered in smudges of oil fromch her work as a mechanic. else, she dresses casually and comfortably - loose shirts, ripped jeans and a necklace.

Cas [m] he/him :

An artefact dealer in the outlands. You know his name, and not much else. He seems to float from place to place, avoiding strong attachments. Never talks about his past, his strange dreams, and pretty much anything personal. Knows what to do in a crisis, though, and is frequently the voice of reason.

Appearance - straight, short light brown hair, fair skin, eyepatch over his right eye - his left is brown. wears glasses. Always in a fashionable long dark coat and heavy boots: somehow manages to look constantly poised and well put together despite Esurio's characteristic humidity.

[other]

Acheron [nb] they/them :

They control much of what flows from the outlands into the city. After they rescued Argo and you from capture by law enforcement, you have been working for them in order to pay off your debt to them. They're level headed and ruthless, and you can't work out what makes them tick.

Jaya [f] she/her :

She was part of the underground smuggling group involving you, Argo and Asha, until she disappeared abruptly and everything went to shit. To this day, you've been unable to find out what happened to her. But thats in the past, right? [option to have been in a past relationship with her]

Valentine [nb] she/her and he/him :

Practically anyone in Esurio knows Valentine, or has at least heard of her. She's the person to go to for weird tech, fast cars and a way to vanish quietly. Despite her notoriety, and her fame as a guitarist, she always seems to be able to work just under the radar of the authorities.

[content warnings]

17+ (may be subject to change). violence, slight gore, horror aspects. implied sexual content.

#interactive fiction #cyberpunk #interactive novel #interactive game #twine game #twine wip #twine if #i am so nervous !!

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reallyromealone · 6 days

Text

Title: fae love

Fandom: none

Characters: original character (orc), reader

Fic type: nsfw, story

Pairings: orc x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, smut, reader has some description, boy pussy term used, reader is a fae, chaotic reader

Notes: I thought I posted this but I didn't, this is super indulgent, and yeah. Normally this would go through Patreon first but I'm feeling kind

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(name) smiled as he was carried by the giant orc that was his mate, a towering ten feet tall to (name) 's five feet four inches, the pretty fae kissing the orc's olive cheek sweetly as they went back to their farm, a sweet little farm in the woods outside of town "I told you no more fires in non agreed fireplaces" he said gruffly to (name) who just smiled "you're the one who chose to become fated mates with me~"

The Orc sighed, looking at the gold ring on (name) 's finger and the wedding necklace, indeed he chose (name) for marriage, he did love his chaotic husband.

(Name) often treated his husband like a jungle gym, the tiny fae usually resting on his shoulder as he went about things and used his magic for various tasks "My love, please... You're awful at cooking" he swatted (name)s hand away when (name) tried to help by adding flower petals to the stew "but they make the stew look magical ~!" Was (name) 's reasoning as he watched the other stir the rabbit and vegetable soup "I added extra (vegetable), magical enough?" The orc gently kissed the other calf, tusks grazing (name) 's flesh, and (name) giggled "You romantic~"

(Name) always sat in his husband's lap when they ate and spoke about their days, (name) in the woods building little homes for the mouse village as they wanted to expand--- thankfully their building supplies were primarily popsicle sticks, the Orc gladly letting his love do that, especially since the mouse folk traded for mushrooms and herbs they find, it also kept (name) from causing mischief amongst the fae wilds, the two living outside the fae wild portal ring and often seeing passerbys that (name) would prank (read: setting their shoes on fire).

It was always a serene affair.

Well for (name).

When bedtime came, (name) carefully took off his jewelry as did his husband, removing any makeup for the night against the candlelight "Oh..." (Name) whispered as he felt his love's large hards easily spread his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs "been energetic these days, causing problems..." The orc said as (name) leaned into his broad chest and felt the other large cock against his ass "Have no output for this energy..." (Name) said back breathlessly as he already imagined the sweet stretch of the other cock "need something... Big to help me relax" he cooed and grinned impishly when his large husband tossed him on the giant bed, something they invested in long ago.

The orc pulled down his pants, large girthy cock erect and heavy, a deep red tip that slowly turned green "pretty.." fourteen inches that (name) couldn't help but feel giddy as he crawled to the other and gently took the others cock in his hands, kissing the tip sweetly as he stroked the shaft with both hands, taking the tip into his mouth as he gently placed his hands on his abdomen and a womb tattoo appeared, already using magic to keep his body intact so the other could fill him fully, essentially an infinity spell to not kill him.

The taste of pre-cum made (name) hazy, fae pre-cum and the likes were aphrodisiacs, (name) 's eyes heavy as the effects of the tattoo began "Gonna take me well... Always do" the orc grumbled as he watched (name) stroke him off and trying to take him but sadly he just couldn't fit him in, not without using magic to warp his body.

And last time that happened it was horrific when he let (name) do the magic using.

Jaw unhinging and face distorting...the poor orc couldn't look at his husband the same for a week.

"Lemme see that ass" (name) let himself be manhandled into his husband's hold, upside down as he held onto the other cock while being held in the air, letting out a shaky breath when he felt his loves tongue lick from his balls to his ass and circling his hot tongue around the rim as (name) shakily stroked the orcs cock as his husband's long tongue went down to curl around (name)s cock, average in size but tiny to the massive orc who felt the aphrodisiac affects himself as his large fingers pushed into (name)s ass.

(Name) Whined and moaned as he felt himself fall apart, clinging onto the other's cock like a lifeline as his ass was finger fucked and his cock licked methodically "Please... Need it..." He needed that itch scratched, yelping when his husband smacked his ass "Behave" the other grunted as his tusks scraped (name)s lower ass cheeks.

(Name) Was manhandled onto his back, for a moment he felt giddy thinking he was getting the other big cock but let out a loud cry as his husband's index middle and ring finger fucked his ass aggressively, veins showing up on the orc's arms as he fucked as hard as he could against (name)s prostate as (name) climaxed hard but the other continued fucking through his climax, watching intensely.

He could barely muster words, the two having a safe word as their sessions got... Intense so the mewls of "stop" and "I can't!" Fell on deaf ears as the orc grinned at his lover's fucked out expression as he slowly pulled his wet fingers out "Your little ass-pussy is ready... You good there baby boy?" He asked as (name) whined "please..." (Name) Begged as he let his husband kiss him slowly, lining his giant cock to (name)s poor entrance and pushing in, shushing his whined at the sensation. no matter how many times they did it, it still stung as the orc slowly bottomed out.

"You did so good, my love" the orc soothed him as he let (name) adjust, no matter how much prep the sweet face needed to adjust for a few minutes as his body twitched helplessly "Big..." (Name) Whined as he felt his husband kiss stray tears.

The two stayed like this for a few moments before (name) gave the ok and the other slowly began thrusting, pushing out to the tip and pushing in, with each thrust he slowly picked up speed. "Oh! Fuck!" (Name) Gasped as he felt the other's balls slap against his ass, hips bruising as he was fucked like a doll.

"More!"

"Yes!"

"O-oh!"

Climaxes and moans, scratches and bites were all the things that (name) got and gave as his legs stretched with a slight burn, riding his beloved as his wings stretched out, previously hidden with magic as a harsh climax rolled through and the dust from his wings lifting them slightly "yes! Fuck me with that cock!" (Name) Scratched down the other's chest as he developed more fae features, unable to keep his magic back.

"Gonna cum in that pretty hole, take it all!" (Name) Collapsed as he was stuffed, stomach bulging as his husband filled his belly with cum.

"There... Keep you from setting trees on fire for a few days..."

#x male reader #male reader #smut #orc x reader #orc x male reader #fantasy

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout.

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle.

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready.

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through.

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him.

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips.

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie.

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were.

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach.

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes.

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong.

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath.

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically.

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep.

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude.

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale.

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince.

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him.

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic.

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet.

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself.

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing.

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you.

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame.

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room.

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread.

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened.

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you.

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…”

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours.

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift.

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you.

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else.

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall.

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner.

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent.

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed.

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck.

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted.

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need.

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit.

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure.

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure.

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips.

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.”

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock.

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream.

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses.

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids.

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone.

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before.

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven. Yours, Jace

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon fluff #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut

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thedawningofthehour · 20 days

Note

You were talking about Leo being a straight dudebro in the body of a gay man (fashion wise) and tbh thats the jumping off point for me to say that whenever I picture him in human clothes he is Always wearing the classic "green triforce shirt + khaki cutoffs pants" combo every middle school boy rocked circa late 2000s early 2010s. You just know he wears those shirts that say "eat, sleep, game, repeat" and the same basketball shorts for 5 years straight. Like, I can see Mikey, Donnie, and Raph having campy and fun fashion sense and having cool elaborate outfits but like. Its not Leo if he doesn't rock a fit that screams the fanciest place he'll eat out at is Olive Garden tbh

Leo is one of those fuckbois that spends hundreds of dollars on a pair of ugly tennis shoes and then freaks out if any dirt gets on them and walks like an idiot to avoid scuffing them.

He'd wear his pants with his ass hanging out and pop his collar. He'd wear those deep v-neck shirts and birkenstocks, probably with socks.

He'd wear puka shell necklaces and shark tooths despite living in NYC and having never been surfing. If he had hair he'd absolutely have had a frosted tips phase.

Not to mention this boy reeks of axe body spray. He's one of those guys that hasn't figured out he stinks more as a teenager and substitutes spray-downs for basic hygiene. He has a twenty-product nighttime skincare routine and then he rolls out of bed and sniffs a random shirt on the floor to determine if it's suitable for another go. At least once a week he'll show up to the breakfast table and Splinter will gag and force him to take a shower.

Meanwhile Donnie is legit prancing around in heavily coordinated outfits that he seemingly threw together effortlessly and he looks like a fashion model. April sends him pictures of her prom dress choices and takes his critique as gospel. He's always invited to Girl's Night and it took Cass several get-togethers for her to even realize the irony. He and his girlfriends do their makeup together and probably get into fights over how they apply eyeliner. Somehow he is the straighter twin.

#i mean donnie is bisexual as fuck but that's still significantly straighter than leo #even if leo is bi himself he's a gayer kind of bi #some of these are before leo's time but fuck it he'd absolutely be a cringe 90s surfer boy #'the fanciest place he'll eat out at is olive garden' BRO #leonardo #donatello #disaster twins #rottmnt

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jupitercomet · 11 months

Text

Aftercare

summary - You’re the perfect person to get Jake out of a bad mood.

warnings - ceo au, sugar daddy au, grumpy x sunshine trope, mentions of smut but no actual smut

word count - 1.3k

It feels like all the air is being pushed out of your lungs as you collapse onto the mattress. You’re a mess of limbs, your skin covered in bite marks, and sweat, and the various dainty chains of jewelry Jake had put on you throughout the night. Though you’re sure the cool metal feels nice against your skin, you can’t even register it, your chest heaving as you barely have the energy to turn your head to the side.

The reason for this could all be found in the fact that Jake had come home in a bad mood—something about an advertising campaign that hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to followed by the news that the deal for the new property he was purchasing had fallen through. Really though, you know the real reason is that one of his employees mistook you for Jake’s assistant when you came to surprise him at lunch and spent half of that lunch flirting with you before Jake’s real assistant could get him out of his meeting.

And so it was no surprise that Jake came home with a clenched jaw and white knuckles and proceeded to fuck you six ways to Sunday and probably six ways after Sunday too. You’ve never felt so pleasured in your life, the euphoric feeling still buzzing throughout your body, but you’re absolutely exhausted. Your eyes flutter closed as Jake’s hands slowly start rubbing up and down your thighs.

A small whimper slips past your lips when he begins massaging the muscles gently. You’re not sure if you’ll even be able to walk in the morning, but with the way Jake’s pressing kisses to your spine, you absolutely don’t mind and, if this is the outcome, you’ll do it again a hundred times over.

“C’mere.” Jake moves to lie down on his back before starting to lift you on top of him. He has to do most of the work, you don’t think you could use your leg muscles even if you wanted to, you’d probably fall asleep halfway through the movement.

Jake settles you on top of him, pulling the sheet over your body so you aren’t subjected to the slight air conditioning in the room. Again, your blinks start to slow as Jake’s palms rub patterns on your back.

You let out a quiet yawn. “Are you feeling better?” The words come out sleepily as your head gets comfortable against his collarbone.

Jake presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. “I’ll feel better after we take a bath.”

“No,” you whine at the suggestion, scrunching your eyes. “Tomorrow. I’m too tired.”

Jake’s muscles tense around you briefly and his hands still from where they’re rubbing against your tailbone. “Don’t be a brat. You’re going to complain about feeling gross in the morning if I don’t clean you off before you sleep.”

One of the Dior necklaces he put you in digs into your skin as you shift to try and negotiate and you wince slightly. Jake catches it instantly, that signature frown of his pinching his face as he looks up at you. Trailing his fingers up your back, he wordlessly moves to undo the clasp of your necklace. You’re silent as he takes off the various bracelets on your wrists and sits up to take off the anklet he put on you that spells out his name, watching as he places each piece of insanely expensive jewelry on his nightstand.

When he’s finished, Jake looks up at you. “Better?” He asks simply.

You nod with a swallow, unable to say much else with the way that he’s looking at you. Those olive green eyes hold a tenderness you usually only find in nights like these and it’s hypnotizing—enough to make you melt back onto his chest.

“Do you want me to stay?” You ask quietly. Part of you is worried that Jake might want his space tonight, that he’s rushing you towards a bath so that you leave quicker because he doesn’t want you around now that you’ve served your purpose.

You feel Jake snort under your chest. “I think you’d pass out on the floor before you even make it to your room.” But he seems to understand that that isn’t the answer you need to hear because he presses another kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, I want you to stay. I’ll take you out for breakfast in the morning.”

“What if I can’t walk?” You mumble into his neck.

“What?”

You lift your head slightly to say it louder, mildly embarrassed about how true the question might be. “I said, what if I can’t walk?”

A rare, cheeky grin lights up Jake’s face and he chuckles quietly. “Then we’ll have breakfast in bed.”

“Jake,” you whine, burying your face into his neck again.

Jake gives your side a soft pinch. “You keep whining my name like that and it’s going to get you on all fours with your face in the sheets,” he warns.

Though the offer hardly sounds like a threat, you and Jake both know you’re far too tired to do anything further tonight. Honestly you’re surprised Jake hardly seems fazed, but he’s always had the better stamina out of the two of you.

Instead of answering, you press a gentle kiss to his pulse point, shifting to ignore the sticky feeling between your legs. You know Jake’s right that a bath would make you feel better, but you’re so comfortable that the thought of moving almost feels painful. Jake’s gone back to rubbing up and down your back over the bed sheet—furthering that belief—and you let out a content yawn.

“You can sleep for an hour and then you’re taking a bath,” Jake tells you, and he almost says it in his business voice that holds a tone with no room for negotiation, but there’s a softness there that he doesn’t have with his normal business partners.

You nod sleepily, the tendrils of exhaustion pulling a vulnerability from you that seems to fit perfectly with the quiet night. Your arms tighten slightly around Jake’s neck. “Will you stay with me?”

Jake doesn’t answer and instead you feel him reach over you to grab something. His hands leave your back and you peek an eye open to see that he’s typing out a quick text to someone, though you’re too tired to actually read what any of it says.

“...Jake?” You ask when he still hasn’t responded after several seconds.

He sets his phone back down on the nightstand, placing his hands back against your tailbone. “I canceled my plans for tomorrow,” he says, as if it’s the most mundane thing in the world. “I’m taking you out.”

You smile against his skin, letting out an appreciative hum.

“Now sleep,” Jake murmurs against your ear, his raspy voice causing you to break out in a shiver.

The words sit heavy on your tongue and you’re almost exhausted enough to let them slip through. In the quiet night, as you lay on Jake’s chest and he rubs your back with the promise of spending the whole day with you tomorrow, you almost say it. But then where would that leave you? It wasn’t part of your and Jake’s arrangement—you should have known better than to let it happen and you do know better than to try and force anything to come from it.

Instead you keep your eyes closed, surrounded by Jake’s comforting arms, and decide to enjoy it while it lasts. Because you know that it won’t.

I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold if you want to be notified when I post

#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin au #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #buggy’s got a pen

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chocolatechipkiki · 10 months

Text

Do You Wish to be in Control?

Soft!Loki x Fem!Reader

Smut

Warnings: Smut; Fluff; Established Relationship; Reader is not quite a little, but an established dominance from Loki has been accepted, and being questioned; male receiving head; PinV sex; slight cockwarming; choking; soft degradation. (Let me know if I miss any!)

Summary: After a long day of exploring the place in which Loki calls home, Asgard, the sun begins to set and you two find your way inside his personal chambers, seeking warmth from the cold night. Things go from an adorable moment to something a little more... sinful.

*****

The sun begins to set over the vast ocean, leaving the edges of the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Before you two know it, the stars begin to appear, and Loki wraps his arm around you, smiling at the sight.

"You know, all these stars are connected to the gods, do you not?" he asks, glancing down into your eyes. You continue to stare at the stars, and smile at the shapes your mind finds hidden in them. "That is our family up there. The gods look out for us all, and they are connected to everything that surrounds us. It is both beautiful and quite scary to think about, but," he pauses, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. "The gods are never too far away," he finishes.

You reach your hand up to meet his on your shoulder and intertwine your fingers, giving his a squeeze. It was always beautiful to you to hear Loki open up about Asgardian culture, as you had missed out on so much of it being raised on Midgard. A saddened look crosses your face as you wonder how different things would have been had you been raised here, like you were supposed to be. But alas, the world had different plans for you.

You shiver at the nighttime cold tickling your skin, and Loki chuckles softly. "Shall we head back to the palace, my love?" he asks, turning to face you and placing a hand on your reddened cheek. You nod and give him a smile. He knew you hated the cold, which was something that took the two of you a lot of time to get used to, with him being a frost giant and all.

He gives your nose a quick peck before taking your hand in his and leading you back to the palace. The walk is full of more stories of his ancestors and what they accomplished. He continues to open up about the great deal of expectation that resides over the royal family, and how if he ever had a child, he wouldn't ever expect more than the basics from them. You only nod knowingly, as Loki has a great deal of trauma that resides in his cold heart.

His cold heart that you were beginning to thaw with your warmth.

Once inside and within the walls of his personal chambers, Loki starts a fire in the grand fireplace that accented his olive green wall. He then drags two of his comfiest chairs over, side by side, so the two of you can warm up. He beckons you over, your name like honey on his lips. The sound leaves you aching for him to speak your name once more as you take your coat off and sit in the chair beside him.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, merely enjoying the warmth and each other's presence. Once Loki feels your are adequately warmed, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box. He gives a sheepish look, as if already regretting his decision. He falters for a second before finally handing you the box.

"I bought you something while we were out today, one of the times you were distracted with the wonders of the city." You smile at him and shake your head.

"Loki, honey, you know you don't have to give me anything," you say, opening the box and giving a small gasp. It's a necklace, made of gold and donning the tree of life. Green emeralds intricately speckle the branches, acting as leaves. The tree resides in a circle of gold, and there are small words engraved in it. May the sun shine on you every day. It's absolutely astonishing.

Loki chuckles and stands to help place it around your neck. He lifts your hair out of the way gently, and fastens the clasp. "I know I don't have to give you gifts and treasures, but you deserve them." He lowers his voice to a whisper as his face nears the back of your neck. "You deserve the world," he whispers, planting gentle kisses to your skin. A shiver runs down your spine at his touch, igniting your core with need.

Loki makes his way back to his chair and you sit in your frustration for a moment. You want him, and now. He knew how kissing your neck made you feel, and he now sat with an extremely satisfied look on his face at the small (but rather mighty) reaction he garnered from you.

With a swift surge in confidence to wipe that smug look off of his face, you climb into his lap, straddling his waist. He tries to act the part of a noble and powerful god, yet he always fails when it comes to you. His eyes meet your smiling gaze and he reaches up to stroke your hair. "I am always yours," he whispers, leaning in to plant more kisses upon your neck.

You giggle quietly and your hands find his hair. "I know you are," you whisper back, before tugging his hair gently to reveal his neck. You lean down to get back at him by nibbling on his exposed skin.

Loki gasps at your teeth on his sweet spot, but he quickly pulls you close again, the surprise making him all the more affectionate. "My dearest love," he whispers. "You certainly never cease to surprise me."

His length twitches beneath you, and you eye the god with a knowing smile. "Are you having a problem down there?" you tease.

Loki looks away for a moment as he tries to hide his slight embarrassment. "Well, you did catch me off guard," he says, attempting to adjust under the guise that you were uncomfortable. "I certainly did not expect that."

You grind down on his lap playfully and continue to grin at him. "Do you require a bit of... release?" you say, lust seeping into your voice. The raven haired man's cheeks grow warm and he bites his lip, attempting to not stare at your luscious bosoms inches from his face. His voice trembles as he speaks, trying to keep his desire for you under control. Something about your confidence towards the man that struck fear into the minds of strangers always managed to affect him.

"Yes, my love," he whispers, his eyes closing at the friction you were inflicting upon him. His hands find your waist as you plant more kisses upon his neck and collarbone.

"How badly do you want me, Loki?" you whisper against his ear. He shudders at the tickle of your breath, and grinds up into you in response, gripping you a little tighter.

"Oh, words could simply not describe my hunger for your love," he says, groaning into your neck. You hands find their way to the buttons on his shirt, and you begin to undress him. He draws in a slow breath watching you, his impatience growing. You take your time and smile at his impatience. He speaks again, but his voice is low and graveled. "Your every touch feels like lightning, my love." He leans his head back again, his body aching to have you screaming his name.

The fire continues to crackle beside the two of you as you finally slide the shirt from his shoulders and plant more kisses to his now bare chest. Loki bites his lip before speaking again. "You are making me... dizzy, little one," he whispers through his teeth. He chances a look down into your eyes, and his head only spins more with desire.

You smile to yourself, proud that you can bring such a powerful god to nothing more than a muttering mess before you. Your hands find his belt buckle, and you undo his pants with ease. Loki tries to focus on your eyes, but he fails as his mind is foggy with lust. His heart pounds against his chest as you unsheathe his length. It twitches, the head red and swollen with need. You only look up at him with a mischievous glint to your eyes.

"How badly do you want me?"

Loki nearly melts at the sight of you before his angry cock, innocent eyes looking up at him with nothing more than a want to be desired. He throws his head back again, trying to catch his breath and slow his mind. It was rare for the god to be at a loss for words, but his love for you is more than enough to render him speechless.

When he makes eye contact again, there is something much more sinister behind his irises. "Oh, words can not do justice to how badly I need you, princess. I simply, deeply, desire you." He raises his hand to caress your cheek as you plant a soft kiss upon the tip of his length. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and closes his eyes as you whisper against his tip.

"How badly?"

"You're tormenting me," he responds, twitching once more.

"Say it."

Loki inhales a sharp breath. Your smile turns devious at his physical reactions to your teasing. "I... I cannot think straight in these moments. Your sight, your smell, your desire - they all cloud my mind and my whole body aches for your touch," he says, now gripping the side of his chair. You can tell that if you don't give him what he wants soon, he will take it, and aggressively. You ponder that thought for a moment before responding.

"Beg for me," you whisper, still looking up at him with innocent eyes. The sound that escapes Loki is unhuman, and his hips twitch forward at your request. The hand that gripped the chair is now reaching for your hair, and he wraps up a fistful of it between his fingers in a desperate attempt to calm down.

"You wish for me, the God of Mischief, to beg at your feet?" he asks, half teasing at your words, and half warning at your actions.

You shrug. "I mean, if you're too proud to beg..." you say, making like you'll move away if he doesn't. He gently yanks your hair in desperation, now looking at you with a mix of shock and desire in his eyes.

"My love, I would do anything for you in this moment... You... Your every touch, your every breath... I yearn for you. All of you," he whispers. "You need only ask and it shall be done. You shall have anything you desire."

You grin once more. "Then beg."

Loki is more than flustered by your request, and his voice trembles as he speaks. "My love, please," he whimpers. "I need you, and I need you now. Give yourself to me, and I promise you won't regret it."

Your heart swells at his response, and you take Loki's length in your hand, guiding it into your mouth slowly. Loki growls with pleasure above you, now gripping your hair with both hands. Your tongue slowly wriggles around his cock as your eyes flutter shut. He guides your head up and down, steadily and gently, his groans forming deep within his chest.

"By the norns," he whispers. No matter how many times you sought to pleasure him this way, he would never tire of the feeling. "You always... manage.. to take my breath away..." he stutters, struggling to keep his breathing in check. You moan onto his cock in agreement and the vibrations rip a new sound from Loki's mouth as his pace begins to quicken.

He becomes so enthralled by your technique that he begins to quiver - an ode to his release coming on quickly. His breath picks up, and you hear his whisper to the ceiling, "Stars, you are incredible."

His length begins to twitch inside your mouth, and instead of giving him what he wants, you release him with a little pop, sitting up.

Loki's expression tells you that he's not too happy about that, until it is replaced with surprise once you strip your bottom half and climb atop his lap once more. You line up the tip of his length with your dripping core. "Do you wish to take me as your own, Loki?" you whisper, rubbing his tip on your swollen clit.

His eyes widen as your words register with him. Without another word, he grabs your hips and slams his entire length into you, unable to wait any longer. You gasp at the sudden change of dominance and his shear size, whilst he throws his head back in pure pleasure. You hold yourself steady as the god catches his breath. Once you grow used to his length, you raise yourself high enough that his tip rests just inside your sex.

"My my," you say. "You are quite impatient, aren't you?" Loki scoffs, gripping your hips and contemplating doing it again. Before he can, you slide back down his length slowly, and repeat this process, creating a slow rhythm that causes your face to contort in pleasure.

Loki's mind swims with thoughts, unable to form words to explain how he felt in this moment of... ecstasy. His mind was racing, and all logic dissipated, leaving him with an overwhelming and almost primal desire to make you scream his name. He adjusts his seated position slightly, wanting to go deeper, deeper, until you took all of what he had to offer. You moan in time with him and another thought crosses your mind.

You place your hand upon his throat, looking into his widening blue eyes. "Do you wish to be in control, Loki? Or are you enjoying my fight for dominance...?"

"I wish to be... in control... yet this... this moment..." his pace begins to quicken and he closes his eyes, focusing on all his nerve endings being stimulated. "I love it. I love how you push me beyond my limits." His voice is filled with pure desire, and he opens his eyes once more to look into yours. "You shall have your way with me."

You grin, his words sparking a new sense of dominance through your blood. Your hand begins to restrict his airway slowly and gently, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure. Your struggle to keep your own eyes open as you watch the sight, the pleasure from the friction building in your core. "You wish to be controlled, my love?" you ask, your grinding becoming more desperate.

Loki's hands begin to roam your body in distress, searching for something to grip, something to bring him back to reality, and he begins to caress your breasts. "Y-Yes, sweetling," he stutters, his mind faltering on the pure ecstasy of it all.

You find the pleasure almost overwhelming as you remove your hands from Loki's throat to his shoulders, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate kiss, all the while continuing to rock your hips back and forth. Your teeth find Loki's bottom lip and bite down harshly, wanting to hear Loki whimper for you. He then groans at the gesture, pulling away for a gasp of air and gripping your thighs. His head falls back as the sharp pain brings more pleasure to his body.

You take advantage of this moment, moving to his neck and biting down hard, enough to draw blood. He gasps once more at the inflicted pain, panting heavily as his back arches his body further into yours. Your thrusts become more and more aggressive, hoping to bring Loki to his climax at the same time as yours. You straighten your back, grabbing Loki's hands and placing them upon your breasts as you bounce up and down on his cock. "D-Do you like the way this feels, baby? Do you wish to find release inside me?" you ask, staring into his eyes with such deviance, Loki might just cum from the look alone. He manages a nod, too busy grunting and moaning at the lasciviousness of the entire situation to attempt any semblance of words.

Your ecstasy begins to take over, forcing your hands to have a mind of their own. They meet Loki's chest, digging into him with such vigor that you draw blood. This only furthers the man's feeling of euphoria as he reaches his climax in time with you.

Your thrusts become sloppy as Loki grips your hips once more, pounding up into you with haste as he brings you to your climax. Your cunt contracts and throbs on Loki's cock, bringing him to climax shortly after and filling you up with his seed. The two of you ride out your high together, panting each other's names and whispering sweet words of encouragement. The two of you lull for a long while, trying to catch your breath and regain some level of consciousness.

Loki looks up at you with such love and satisfaction that your aftershock almost becomes another climax. He smiles, still somewhat panting from the experience. "That... is certainly how we have to do that more often," he muses, praising you for your good work. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the situation, now that the feeling of dominance has passed. He chuckles at how quick your attitude changes, and cups your cheeks in his hands.

"Leave it to the love of my life to pull out a side of me I'd never experienced before," he says, chuckling as he replays the events in his mind. He kisses you gently, for he knows if he did so more aggressively, you would be more than happy to go for round two. Your eyes seem almost glossed over as you begin to fall back into your submission for the aftermath.

Loki rubs circles into your back as you begin to lull from the pleasure. He lifts you up, his length never leaving you, and carries you to the bath. He would be more than happy to take care of his baby after a session like that.

#loki oneshot #loki #loki x reader #smut #dom!loki #sub!loki #soft loki smut

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icanseethefuture333 · 11 months

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PAC: What your fp/fs looks like but make it actually diverse 🌅

Feel free to leave a tip as well if you enjoyed this pac! $$$ 😌🌺

Pile 1:

Physical appearance

Hair color ranges from dark brown, light brown , ginger, & blonde highlights (Their natural hair color is mostly brown but they could dye it or a few of them are actually blonde/ginger). Their hair texture is coily, curly, or wavy. They are most likely light skinned or mixed race (I'm seeing mostly black, white, or middle eastern. This message could only be for a few but I heard someone's fp/fs could be Somalian, Moroccan, or Israeli to be specific). They have hazel eyes (eye color is a mix of green, aqua, gold, or amber). They have freckles and moles. Skintone is warm and medium or medium deep (tawny, olive, or brown). Your fp/fs's body could be more bottom heavy. If they are more feminine I'm seeing a pear shaped figure and if they are more masculine I'm seeing that they have strong legs. This person could like to workout or they are in involved in sports because they have strong lower body muscles (wide hips, big butt, thick thighs, toned calves, etc). Sagittarius & Leo could be prominent in their birth chart. Sun or Jupiter dominant.

Pile 2:

Physical Appearance

This pile's fp/fs is pretty unique! For some people in this pile, their fs/fp could have vitiligo. It's as if they have two skintones for some reasons. So either this person could have vitiligo, they either get very pale in the winter and dark in the summer, or they could have used tanners or skin bleaching creams growing up. I'm also seeing that this person could strictly only wear black, gray, and white - no colors. They like to be like a panda 🐼. For their hair color I'm seeing its gray, white, silver, platinum blonde, or bleached. They could like to wear wigs or their head is shaved at the moment. If the fp is a feminine they like to wear their hair very long while the masculine likes their hair very short, almost like a buzzcut. They also have dark brown almost pitch black eyes. Your fp/fs could have some type of scar on there face or body, perhaps from a burn, fight, or some sort of accident. Their body is angular, lean, and toned. This person likes to include stars in their aesthetic ☆. They could like y2k fashion or subversive fashion. I'm thinking of the brand "Chrome hearts". This person could be alternative or like being involved in that culture. They could be goth specifically which would explain why their skin color varies (some goths like to paint their face white). I'm seeing piercings and tattoos as well. There isn't a specific race for this pile but they could have almond eyes, a low nose bridge, and small lips (they like to wear lip liner so it looks fuller or red/black lipstick so they can appear as a "vampire" lol). So for some of you your fp/fs could be black, asian, or "other". I'm seeing that this person has Scorpio placements and a Pluto dominance.

Pile 3:

Physical Appearance

This person is white and their cultural heritage could either be Greek, Spanish, Italian, Brazilian, Portuguese, or Argentian. They have dark brown hair and it's straight with a slight bend of wave or curls. Their hair is very voluminous and shiny. Their skin ranges from pale to medium. Their eye color could be blue, brown, or green. For some other physical features they could have a prominent nose, dark circles, red lips, and a beauty mark either under their eye or next to their mouth. If feminine, their body is hourglass shape with hip dips. If masculine, they have wide shoulders, and have more of a inverted triangle shape. Your fp/fs' style is very refined and posh. It's giving "old money" vibes. Rolexes, white Polo shirts, khakis, linen blouses, diamond necklaces, etc. They could have Taurus placements as well as a Venus dominance.

Pile 4:

Physical Appearance

I feel for most people in this pile their fs/fp naturally has ginger, reddish hair or they have brown hair with reddish undertones. They have dark brown eyes, pale skin, freckles, rosy cheeks, and heart shaped lips. They could look like a cat or have features similar to cat. Their eyes are big and upturned. Your fp/fs is either east asian or "wasian" (half white half east asian). Their style is grunge with warm autumn tones or they dress very colorful (they could wear a lot of primary colors with brown and green). They could like to wear khakis, cargo pants, converse sneakers, and striped sweaters. This person gives off obvious Gemini energy 😂 but I'm also picking up that they could have Virgo placements. They have a Mercury dominance.

Pile 5:

Physical Appearance

This person has a very rich, deep skintone. If your fp/fs was a man they would remind me of the saying "tall, dark, and handsome". I'm seeing that they are either Black or South Asian. They have thick curly/coily hair and it's the color onyx. Their eyes are the color chocolate brown. They have a balanced and proportionate body type. I feel that this person really embodies having Venusian energy and could have Libra prominent in their birth chart. Their style is casual with a touch of luxury. They like to wear black blazers, white shirts, sundresses, gold hoops, pearls, and jewels. I'm seeing purple, red, and green (sapphires, rubies, emeralds, etc) so they could like to wear very regal colors as well or they could just look like royalty.

Pile 6:

Physical Appearance

I channeled a few different people for this pile so this might not resonate for all of you but only for some! So for those who are attracted to people with a feminine appearance. Your fp/fs could like to have their hair very colorful and it's always changing. They either wear wigs or dye their hair blue. I'm getting a "2014 tumblr girl" vibe from them. They are just naturally beautiful. As for those who are attracted to people with a masculine appearance. Your fp/fs could have short to medium length blonde hair. Their hair is very shaggy and they like to style it in a messy, carefree, tousled way. They could have slight wavy hair as well. They could look like a "surfey boy" or a "skater boy". Both feminine and masculine fp/fs could have blue eyes, a button nose, and pink lips. Their body type is petite and thin with a narrow waist. I'm not seeing a specific race being stated for your fp/fs but I wanna lean towards for most people who picked this pile that they will have a white partner. While for a few of you, you will date/marry someone who will be considered racially ambiguous. They could have Aquarius placements and a Uranus dominance

Pile 7:

Physical Appearance

This person has black or dark brown hair. Their hair texture could be straight or wavy. They could have siren eyes as well. Something about their eyes are very captivating. Their eye color ranges from light brown to dark brown. While their skin color is like copper. They are average height and their shoulders and collarbones could be very beautiful. Your fp/fs could be of West & South/Southeast Asian descent, this message might only be for some but I'm hearing that they could be possibly be Sri Lankan, Tamil, Iranian, Saudi Arabian, Bengali, Malaysian, Singaporean, Pakistani, Thai, and Indonesian (very specific, I know 💀). I feel like you would meet then while they are in their cultural attire or during a special holiday. If you are not from these countries perhaps you go there for a vacation and meet them there (how cute!🥺). I feel like their faith or beliefs are very important to them, so they might wear some sort of necklace to represent that. Capricorn could be prominent in their chart and they could have a Saturn dominance.

Pile 8:

Physical Appearance

For your fp/fs I feel that they could have a duality to them, so it is possible that they are mixed, have two cultures, or they have a dual citizenship somewhere. I believe that they are Aboriginal, Pacific Islander, and for a few, South East Asian (I'm getting the Philippines to be specific). They have thick wavy, curly hair. They might like to switch up their hair a lot by either straightening it or curling it sometimes. They could even do perms on their hair or use relaxers. The skin color varies from person to person. Their body type will be more fleshy and muscular, some of them have a prominent tummy. They could have Cancer placements or the Moon is dominant in their chart.

Pile 9:

Physical Appearance

Your fp/fs is indigenous or Latin indigenous descent. They have straight, dark brown hair. Their skintone varies from medium to dark skintones. Some of them have a hooked nose or will have a upturned nose. The corner of their lips could be downturned or when they smile it looks like this ^~^ (adorable 😭). I feel that these people have a very loud but infectious laugh. They could brighten your day when you are sad. For some of you these people could be a cowboy/cowgirl or work at some sort of ranch or farm (I'm not from the South so idk how all that works but you get what I mean 😅). They have a natural connection to animals. They could wear stetson hats, beaded necklaces, bolo ties, flannels, boots, bone shells, and silver or turquoise jewelry. They could have Aries placements and a Mars dominance.

#pac #pick a card #future spouse #tarot #tarot readings #tarot reading #free readings #astrology #witchcraft #soulmate

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imnotjaesblog · 4 months

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Part 8: The Drop Out

Starring: Nakamoto Yuta

Summary: Nakamoto Yuta was known for his partying lifestyle. The man had zero care in the world for anything that didn't involve getting high or drunk. He slept around and traveled from place to place without a care in the world. Until one particular event with his mother stealing all his money led to him traveling to Japan to handle business. With a few dollars in his pocket, he traveled unknowingly to you who had also gone to Japan during your time away finding his mother easily while he struggled to spot her. With enough zeros who convinced her to cross her own son.

Warnings: Smut, Public Sex, Angst, Manipulation, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs.

Words: 9k

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!

Enjoy :)

You never thought this was where it would come to. You and Johnny Suh sitting in one of the tallest buildings in the city. Sitting in one of your Father's buildings, HeadQuarters. Both of you sat in his office your father sitting behind his high desk while the two of you sat in front of it. Security standing in all areas of the room. Some Security yours, some Johnny's but the majority your fathers.

The office was dark and cold. You always hated coming here. The large window behind your father's coal-colored desk exposed the city that surrounded you. As a kid, you would run to the window and stare below the people appearing as ants. Your father wasn't one for the arts. He was a modern man with traditional values. He was modern with his money but not his mind. Is office showed just that. A lifeless room with dark colors on the walls.

Black leather couches were placed behind for more personal, comfortable meetings with clients. However, while personal this was far from comfortable.

Your father's reactions were sure to scare you. You had been caught.

Two Weeks Ago

"So what should I wear?" you asked the three in your closet. They all sat on your velvet couch and had been sitting there for hours as you struggled to find an outfit for your date with Yuta. "I thought this didn't matter to you?" Jungwoo teased with a smirk. "Why are bothering so much with your outfit?" he asked. You huffed throwing a purple scarf on the ground.

"Because he needs to be under my spell not the other way around," you said. Ever since you had gotten rid of the video a part of you was starting to feel secure. You had felt a giant weight off your shoulders knowing Johnny no longer had anything hanging over your head. Even your friends noticed your glow. How the lift changed your attitude. They also felt things slowly were turning back to normal.

But you weren't out yet. You still had a few on your list. Getting through this date with Yuta was just the beginning of the new journey you'd go on. You weren't stupid. You knew eventually Johnny would find a way back to you. You knew he'd strike again. You just had to be ready for it.

"Okay I have these two options," you said holding up two dresses both cut above the knee and would hug your curves beautifully. The dresses were sent straight from Paris and designed to fit you and your body only. One dress has a deep olive green color and an off-the-shoulder look. Exposing your neckline gracefully. You had the perfect necklace to match, making you look tall and brisk.

The other was a deep purple that had a v-line cut. The dress would hug your body and would embrace your feminity. You had the perfect earrings to go along with the dress. The cut of the dress expressed the status you held to your name and made your presence known to those who were around.

"I like the green," said Wendy.

"I like the purple," said Jungwoo.

You looked over at Jisung, and all of you did.

"Well?" you asked holding up both dresses. He eyes the purple one agreeing with Jungwoo but the green one would also look amazing on you. Although he believed no dress would do justice to your beauty no matter how expensive it was. No matter where it was imported from or how many jewels it had and luxury fabrics were sewn into it. Your beauty would outshine a thousand diamonds he thought but couldn't say. So instead he said.

"I like the purple one," he pointed to the dress nervous lump in his throat. "Okay. I'll still try the green one on just in case," you said walking off to try the dress on. You emerged back into the closet with the green dress on. Jungwoo and Wendy Oooed and awed servants coming and placing a tray of champagne.

"Isn't champagne for celebrating?" You asked. Wendy nodded taking a glass. "Yup. We're celebrating Y/n," she said raising her glass everyone followed cheering to you and then they all took a sip. Confused you took a sip. "Why?" you asked. Jungwoo stood up stunned walking over to you and bringing you to the full-length LED mirror.

"Because it's your birthday," he said placing a soft friendly kiss under your ear. You giggled pushing him off seeing him hold you in the mirror. Jungwoo was one of your dearest friends. He knew how to make you laugh. He knew what to say and when to say. He always knew the right thing to say. You are grateful to have him.

Jisung shifted seeing the two of you. Wendy noticed chuckling she leaned over to him tapping his shoulder and breaking his trance. "Don't worry too much. He doesn't like girls," she said. Jisung only nodded but he'd be lying if he said it didn't calm his nerves. You showed off the green dress once more before Wendy begged to see the other.

You huffed disappearing with the purple dress in your hands. When you returned everyone got quiet.

"Wow," said Wendy. "Wow is right," Jungwoo responded with a proud smirk. He sipped his champagne as he relaxed on the pink velvet couch. "I'm always right," he said taking a sip. Jisung finally turned to your frame. He felt his eyes wide and almost pop out of their sockets. He didn't even bother to hide his stares. All he could think about at this moment was how right he was. You outshined the dress.

His stares made you shy, something no one had made you feel before. The only person to make you feel this way was Jaehyun. But that was the past. This was now, Jisung was staring at you like you were the only person in this world that his heart danced for. You felt the warmth creep throughout your body and to avoid taking another show an hour before your date you shook off the feeling and instead turned to Wendy.

"What do you think?" you asked her.

"Beautiful," you heard but not from Wendy. You turned your head looking towards the direction of the voice. Jisung sat there with glowing eyes, his eyes never leaving yours. "You look beautiful," he said lost in your beauty.

Wendy gasped and Jungwoo excitedly hit her arm. You smiled looking down at the dress and then back at him. When Jisung had realized he had spoken out loud he shook his head clearing his throat. "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that," he said looking away and staring at the floor.

"Because it was honest," responded Jungwoo he sent a calm smile to Jisung then he turned back to you. "You do look beautiful," he said standing up and walking over to you. "But now something needs to be done about this hair," he said with a smile placing his hand on your shoulder.

Everyone waited in your living room for Yuta to show. You sat on your couch leg jumping up and down. You shook your head hand falling to your lap. "What if he's lying?" you asked the room. Everyone turned to you waiting for you to speak again.

"What if this is a trap? Johnny has been silent so I'm assuming he's using Yuta to get back at me somehow. After he did deliver the package," you raced on. Wendy sighed sitting beside you. "What does your gut say?" she asked. "That this is crazy," you said.

"Hasn't it been telling you that the whole time?" she asked with a smile. You sighed head falling. "Your right," you said picking your head back up. "Johnny would have done something by now, he hates waiting," you said standing up to grab a drink from your fridge. You poured yourself a glass of water taking a sip.

"Miss Y/N," your maid quickly entered the room. Everyone turned their heads to look at her. She didn't acknowledge them just you. "Yuta is in the lobby," she said. You placed the glass down and she stepped aside following behind you. When you walked to your front door your friends followed. Wendy adjusted your dress and Jungwoo sprayed some of your perfume on your neck. Jisung came up from behind grabbing your coat.

He slipped it onto your skin fingertips grazing your shoulder as he slipped your coat on. He felt so close to you this way. He could feel only an inch of your back against his front. He could feel the warmth that left your skin and your infamous perfume that invaded his nose and slipped right into his brain. He hummed for a moment as his hands fell on your side feeling the soft fabric of your coat wishing you weren't going out with Yuta tonight.

You turned to him with a smile. "Thank you," you said feeling the tension between the two of you. You had been this close to Jisung before, but before didn't feel like now. Now your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty. You felt the tiny hairs creep up on your neck and when his hand was on top of your shoulders feeling you put on your coat you felt your heart skip a beat.

A part of you began to wish you had met Jisung earlier. Before you met his awful friends. You wished you met him at a time when revenge didn't matter to you.

"I have to go," you said to him. "But I'll see you later tonight right?" you asked. He nodded with a warm smile. "Of course," he said. You turned away Wendy handed you your purse. "Remember you are in charge," she said looking deep into your eyes. You nodded understandingly. You turned your servant opening the door as you left and walking you down the hallway of your apartment to the elevator. You thanked him as you stepped inside.

When you stepped out of the elevator and onto the lobby you instantly spotted Yuta in the golden-lit lobby full of decorated Christmas trees and red ribbons. He turned to you hands in his pockets. He pulled one hand out waving you over with a smile. You smiled back walking over to him.

He looked taller from where you stood. His black locks were slicked back and his body was covered in a velvet black suit. In the front of the suit, there was a v-cut that lay just above the middle of his chest. He wore a few rings on his painted fingers and a pair of black heel boots.

When you made your way across the lobby you stood next to him. He eyes you up and down licking his lips. "You look amazing," he said with a smile. You nodded accepting his compliment. It didn't feel the same as when Jisung said it.

When you stepped out onto the lobby a black limo waited outside for the two of you. The driver waited on the outside opening the door for you and Yuta. You both sat inside Yuta picking up a bottle of wine. He poured two glasses handing you one. "The drive shouldn't be long," he said sipping his wine. "In the meantime, I'd like to get to know you more," he said.

"What would you like to know?" you asked him. He shrugged with a purse of his lips. "Well, right now I only know about what I've seen and heard. Your family is really rich. Your friends are too, minus one," he said with a playful smirk. He licked his lips again sitting back on the leather seat. He crossed one leg over the other.

"But something I want to know is why your father isn't just giving you the position. How come he won't let you take his place?" he asked eyeing you. You held the full glass in your hand as you spoke tapping along the side of it. "Well, actually he was beginning to change his mind. I took some time to speak to him and it seems like I won't need to find someone else to take his place," you said.

"By someone you mean husband, right?" he asked. You scoffed out a smile. "Yes," you said. "Is that why you faked your relationship with Jeno? To get your father off your back?" he asked and you nodded. He took another sip of his wine. "Jeno is the son of an old family friend of my father. I thought it would work," you said a sigh as you spoke. "Turns out all I needed to do was just tell my father how I felt. He thought I didn't want the position and that's why he wanted me to find a husband," you said. Yuta nodded a purse in his pink lips.

"Interesting," he said. "Why do you want the position?" he asked but you shook your head placing your glass down. "Enough about me it's my turn now," you said. Yuta sent you a cheeky smile. "Why are you taking me to a fancy restaurant? Are thought that was beyond you," you asked with a chuckle. He nodded eyeing the last sip of his wine glass. He finished it placing it beside yours.

He chuckled along with you. "I can understand your confusion," he began. "But," he calmed down his expression a much softer one appearing on his features. "I'm different now," he said.

"How so?" you asked. He sighed with a small shrug.

"Well for starters I'm two months sober," He said. You eyed his empty wine glass. "With drugs," he said with a chuckle. "I didn't drink a whole lot," he said with a pause. "Maybe a little," he joked. "But I am," he said. You smiled picking up your glass and cheering it to him. "Congratulations," you said taking a sip. He chuckled shaking his head.

"Can I be honest?" he asked. You nodded placing your glass down.

"I've always had a thing for you. I mean everyone does but I'm different you know," he said pointing at himself with a grin. You scoffed, "How is that?" you asked. His jaw dropped surprised like you should have known the answer. "Because I'm me," he said. You rolled your eyes looking away at him for a moment. "That was terrible," you said. He chuckled pointing at you. "Yeah but you smiling so that's good," he said. You pursed your lips squinting your eyes at him. You had nothing else to say.

"Right this way sir," the server said to Yuta taking you both to your table. The restaurant is located in a busy city with many couples sitting together at table food already set in front of them. The lights were dim candles lit each table. A white cloth covering the wooded table tops. A Christmas tree was placed by the piano and reefs hung on the walls.

You walked further into the restaurant behind Yuta to your table. You saw an empty table in the middle of the room. Two chairs are placed on each side. You assumed that's where you'd be sitting until an older couple sat down in them. Yuta turned to you placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Our table is this way," he whispered in your ear. You nodded continuing to follow the waiter. He brought the two of you down a small hallway to a room in the back. "Your room sir," he said holding the dark wooden door open. He opened the door to a room with few booths and tables.

There were some men in suits sitting at a booth and a few couples sitting together having dinner. The waiter sat you both down at a table away from the window. Low music played in the dim light room another Christmas tree in the corner.

"This is lovely," you said as you sat down looking around the restaurant. Yuta smiled seeing your eyes light up. He let go of the breath he held since the moment he saw you. He was relieved you liked the spot he picked, after all, he had to ask Jaehyun what you liked.

You placed the cloth over your lap still checking out the view of the city you had. For years you were used to this view, but for you it never got old.

"I had a feeling you would like it," he said. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. "How did you know?" you asked him the waiter pouring two waters. You picked up the glass waiting for his response. "I asked Jaehyun," he said adjusting his blazer. The waiter bowed as he walked away placing the bottle on the table. Yuta grabbed his glass taking a sip. You almost choked on your water but you held it.

"Jaehyun?" you asked covering the water that drizzled down your lip. You swiftly wiped it away. He nodded placing his glass down. "I asked him yesterday before I came to see you," he said with a smile. You nodded placing your glass down as well. The waiter had returned.

"Would you like any drinks for the table?" he asked. Yuta nodded ordering a wine for the table. "Okay. I'll be back with the wine, and bread as well," he said walking away.

You watched as he walked away. You couldn't help but think about Yuta asking Jaehyun about your date. Sharing girls was one of Johnny's rules. He made it clear to you that night you shared that sharing another girl they dated or spent the night with was against his rules. Jaehyun and Yuta both knew the rules so why would he be okay with this?

It shifted the air in the room for you. You could feel the slight tension every time Yuta sipped his water and glanced over your shoulder. However for the time being you decided to brush it off and focus on the plan.

"I'm surprised Jaehyun told you. Aren't you guys close?" you asked the water pouring the wine and the other placing down a basket of bread. He stepped away after Yuta asked him to leave the bottle. He turned back to you with a grin.

"Me too. When I asked him he was surprised. I could tell he was a bit upset but he didn't fight me on it," He said swirling his glass around. He placed it back on the table without taking a sip and instead picked up his water with a shrug. "Maybe he's over you," he said taking a sip. You nodded one of your legs crossing over the other.

"Maybe he is," you said with pursed lips. You knew it was a lie. Jaehyun hadn't left you alone after your break up. He still doesn't he's just a lot more quiet about it. You had figured out Yuta was playing a game. It was his thing, games. He loved to play around with the people in his life. His past girlfriends, past lovers, his friends, even his father. And now he was playing a game with you.

"Why did you drop out?" you asked changing the topic. He shrugged laying his hand out on the table. His fingers tapped with the tick of the clock. "I wasn't happy being at school. College isn't for me. I wanted to travel and see the world," he said.

"Where did you go?" you asked. "Japan first to see my father," he said.

"Why?" you asked sipping your water. He eyed you but responded.

"I needed something," he said. "What did you need?" you asked.

"Travel fair. I needed to get to Korea," he said. "Why?" you asked.

"I was looking for something," he said speaking slightly slower.

"Looking for what?" you asked leaning closer to the table and moving aside the bread basket. "I heard you traveled to a party," you said.

"You did you hear this from?" he asked with a grin. "Girl talks," you said with a smile your hand laying next to his feathering his skin.

He nodded glancing at your hand next to his. He looked back into your eyes placing his warm hand on top of yours. "I was looking for someone," he said refusing to say the name. You nodded swiftly pulling your hand away and placing it under your chin.

"My turn," he said catching your attention. You titled your head as he spoke. "Why do you like Christmas so much?" he asked. "Were you spoiled rotten?" he jokingly asked. You chuckled but shook your head no.

"My father was never home on Christmas, and neither was my mother. But my Grandmother and the maids were," you said with a smile fond of the memory. "They raised you?" he asked. You nodded lifting your chin off your hand. "When I was a kid around five or six my grandparents had asked me what I wanted for Christmas," you said with a chuckle. "And I said I wanted a giant tree with a lot of lights," you said. "They did it for me and every year since they've done it," you said finger swirling around your glass of water.

"I've gotten used to not having my parents. What about you?" you asked him. His smile fell hand leaving yours. "Excuse me?" he asked. You shrugged your hands now leaning on the table. "I assumed because you live far from your father things would be difficult. I guess not," you said playing it off. Yuta nodded with a worried smile.

"Oh yeah. It can be hard but let's not discuss that," he said. You nodded, "Okay," you said.

You both laughed at the table. "So he did what?" you asked chuckling. "Okay so basically me and him ran off and jumped into the ocean. His shorts got stuck on a rock and ripped off," he said both of you laughing. "It was terrible but funny," he said with a smile. The laughter between you two dyed down.

You leaned over checking the time on your phone.

You had made him comfortable enough, it was time.

You let your hand fall over his and your foot touched his leg. He licked his lips. He stared deep into your eyes. His stare is intense reading every part of you. He could see every inch of you from where you sat. Your pink lips, the necklace that hung around your neck, and the curve of your body since one of your legs crossed over the other.

The low light from the restaurant with the bright candle lighting up your face had you glowing brighter than the star on the top of the Christmas tree. He let his hand rest over yours. Fingertips brushing over your knuckles. His warm touch heating your body and sending shivers from your head to your stomach.

The butterflies in your stomach made circles. Yuta's eyes never left yours. A playful sparkle in his orbs and a flirtatious smirk on his lips. He poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue watching as your other hand disappeared under the table and onto his thigh. You squeezed it gently feeling his crossed leg lift and rest on the floor. He spread his legs allowing you the access you needed. You were inches away from him. Your fingertips grazed the spot he craved you.

Frustrated he leaned his body over his arm grabbing hold of your chair and pulling it aside him. The two of you received some looks but no one questioned it. They assumed what was happening, the two of you just wanted to sit closer together.

Your hand held onto his thigh and when your chair halted sitting next to him you could his faint breath on the exposed parts of your neck. You crept your hand forward and squeezed him over his velvet pants. He groaned into your neck licking a strip on your skin. The cool air winter air brushed past the wet spot on your neck. You shivered moving closer to him.

You squeezed him hard causing him to hide away in your neck, biting your skin. "Fuck baby I didn't think you moved so quick," he said low in your ear. He leaned over checking to see if anyone was watching. When he saw a couple looking in your direction he smirked at them. He leaned off your neck deep dark eyes looking into yours.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered placing a soft kiss on your neck. A soft kiss turned passionate as he played with your skin between his lips. You shut your eyes for a moment a heavy breath leaving your lips. You shook your head bringing your hand to his chest and pushing off of him, his arm still wrapped firmly around your chair sitting behind your waist. He held you tightly in his grasp.

"I can't wait," You said with a playful smile. He cocked his brow poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. His mouth made a clicking sound once he spoke. "Here?" he asked motioning to the people around you two. Yuta was no stranger to having sex in public. He's the reason the school library got the tinted windows in the first place. He just didn't take you as the kind of girl to fuck in a restaurant with a bunch of strangers who were a few feet away enjoying their meals.

Then again he thought you weren't the kind of girl who wouldn't date a guy like him.

So he took his chances.

You nodded biting your lip. You leaned closer to him your eyes looking down to his lips. "Meet me in the employee bathroom in five," you said hovering over his lips. In a daze, all he could do was nod. He watched as you pulled back, pushed out your chair, and walked away disappearing. With a final glance, you walked behind the red curtain that led to the small hallway.

Yuta never got nervous. His whole life girls constantly threw themselves at him, whether it was for money or his looks he had always had it easy. And right now you were doing that same thing. He didn't believe you were easy but you were giving him what he wanted. You were here with him and now waiting in a bathroom for him to arrive. Yet he still felt like he was working for it.

He waited constantly checking his watch. You had barely gone a minute and all he could do was curse at the clock. Annoyed with time he roughly tapped his fingers on the table picking at a piece of bread.

The minute you walked behind the curtain you set your timer. You had five minutes to prepare the next part of your plan. You scoffed as you turned down another hallway past the employee bathroom. Did he not think you were going to notice?

You pulled out your phone sending a quick text to Wendy.

Y/n- Is she here?

Wendy- Right Outside. Should I send her in?

Y/n- Not yet I'm going to the bathroom.

Wendy- Got it.

You checked the timer. Only a minute had passed by. You walked over to the large window showing the city below. You weren't too far to the ground. You could still see the people that passed by. You searched around in the never-ending crowd of people. Squinting your eyes until you found the older woman. You watched as she stood outside the restaurant. You watched her for a moment. She crossed her hands in front of the other annoyedly tapping the top of her hand. She huffed cold air slipping past her lips.

You smirked recognizing her from her photo. While you were away on your small vacation of self-discovery you were also searching for something, someone. Luckily on a trip to Japan, it was that hard to find her, and with the amount of zeros at the end of the check you handed her. It wasn't that hard to convince her to follow you back.

You checked the time. This time two minutes had gone by. You walked away from the window and headed towards the bathroom. When you turned down the hallway to the bathroom you saw an employee waiting beside the bathroom. You reached into the top of your dress pulling out three hundred dollars. You brought your hand down as you walked past him, the folded money at your fingertips.

As you walked past him your hand lightly touched his. He slipped his fingers smoothly between yours taking the money. Once he received the money you opened the bathroom door stepping inside. Yuta had appeared from around the corner two minutes later. The same employee standing at the door. Yuta ignored his presence and opened the bathroom door.

Once the employee heard the door lock he placed an out of order sign on the bathroom door and then walked away.

Yuta walked in with a wide smile on his face. He stepped towards your body that leaned against the sink of the gold and white bathroom. Your hands are placed on both sides of the sink holding you steady. You had done this after feeling the burn in your feet from your heels. Lifting yourself slightly to take off the pressure. You hid your pain when Yuta walked in wearing a flirtatious smile instead.

He walked over to you licking his lips and staring deeply into your eyes. He placed both of his hands around your waist letting his fingertips roam freely on the small of your back. He left an inch between the two of you in the bathroom lit with burning candles. He leaned close to you licking his lips and biting back a smile. His bottom lip released from his teeth a darker shade of pink.

You looked into his dark golden eyes. His pupils were larger as he stared into eyes full of desire. "You look beautiful," he said eyeing you down to your heels, past the dress that hugged your curves, and to your eyes. He glanced down at your wet lips shining under the candlelight. He leaned down hovering his lips over yours. He waited for a moment. Drinking your scent, the smell of your faint perfume touching his nostrils.

The soft scent reached his brain making him flutter his lashes closed. He hummed sniffing gently. "You smell Heavenly," he said his lashes still dusting his cheek. His fingertip slid up your waist reaching behind your neck. He held your head in his hand. You couldn't help but lean in touch his warm touch. "Be careful," you said staring at his closed eyes. His eyes began to flutter open.

"You might get addicted," you said with a smile and a playful look in your eyes. Yuta scoffed a short chuckle. He shook his head stepping closer to you standing directly in front of you. His long fingers held onto you turning your body to face him fully. His front pressed against yours. "I'm already addicted," he said finally placing his lips on yours. You kissed back, a passionate kiss shared between the two of you.

Yuta was gentle with his touch. Fluttering kisses from your lip to your neck. Your head leaned back as he kissed his way down your jaw and to your neck leaving wet patches of skin as he trailed down to your sweet spot. You let out a hum of approval once he found it. He stood there for a moment still sniffing your perfume. You felt unwanted butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't deny how perfect his mouth felt against you.

He kissed down your neck kissing above the valley of your breast. You allowed your hand to come down to his chin picking him back up. He leaned up letting your hand hold his chin. "Don't be gentle with me," you hushed a stern look in your eyes. He smirked picking himself back up. This time he lifted you on the sink spreading your thighs apart with his knee. His hand roams around your plush thighs squeezing and molding the skin in his palms.

You spread your legs wide for him. He stood in between them breaking the passionate kiss you shared to harshly kiss your neck. His other hand holding the back of your head gripping onto your hair. He held the back of your head in his palm moving your head around on his own as the two of you kissed. He used his other hand to push your dress up to your hips. He glanced down breaking the kiss. Lips bruised and burnt he eyed the panties that concealed your pussy.

He moved them aside cool index finger swirling around the warmth of your cunt teasing your tight hole. You could feel yourself getting wetter the more he pulled your hair and the more he teased your hole. A gush of wetness spilled from your pussy onto his slender finger making him groan loud. He brought the finger to his lips sucking it dry. "Fuck baby you taste as good as you smell," he said with a hum eyes closed shut. He let his other hand fall to his clothed dick squeezing himself over his velvet pants trying to calm himself.

You bit onto your lip swaying your hips side to side waiting for him to return. He noticed with a knowing smirk. He returned to your lips both his index and middle sliding around your exposed pussy and coating his fingers with your juice. Once you were ready he slipped a finger inside you cooeing as you moaned right into his mouth.

"Good girl. Taking my fingers so well like the slut you are," he said with a sinful grin. He slipped around finger inside you curling them up. You felt your toes curl with how far he reached inside you. He grazed over the sweet spot inside your pussy. You leaned back on the sink allowing him to travel deeper inside you. His body followed your hand jerking hard and fast inside your wet pussy. He groaned feeling your juice flick off your pussy and onto your arm.

"That's right baby make a mess all over me," he groaned pushing his clothed cock against the sink. Using anything to put pressure onto his throbbing cock. You moaned out loud holding onto his strong veiny forearm gripping tightly, your nails digging into his skin. He felt when your pussy tighten around him. He knew you were so close to release but he couldn't let you cum, not yet.

Your moans grew louder. He slapped a hand over your mouth slowing his moments. You whined into his palm at the pace. Wide eyes on your face. "Remember baby we are still in public. Anyone can come by and hear you. Unless that's what you want? That's what you want tight? Everyone to hear you like a slut," he said deeply looking into your eyes as his two fingers still slowly pumped inside of you. You shook your head feeling when his finger slowly slipped out of you. You whined at the lost contact.

He unbuttoned his pants pulling out his hard dick and pumping it in his fist. His other hand ran through his hair as he pushed out air from his lips. He groaned at the first touch heading falling back and lips spreading apart. When his head returned to its normal place he eyes your glistening pussy. He stepped forward aligning his cock at your entrance. However, you stopped him.

"You can't fuck me without a condom," you said crossing your arms over your chest. He huffed slowly jerking his cock. He raised a brow annoyed. "Are you serious? We've come this far. I'll pull out," he said quickly trying to get back to your lips. You pushed away fixing your underwear barely even surprised by his reaction.

"No unless we use a condom," you said. He sighed stopping his motions. "Fine. Do you have any?" he asked. You nodded turning to your purse. You pulled one out handing it to him to put on. When he did you remembered what Jisung said about him controlling you. You smiled nodding your head.

"You good?" he asked. You shook yourself from your thoughts with a nod followed by a smile. "Yeah. Come," you said guiding him to the closed toilet seat. He spread his legs watching as you stood before him. He shook his head going to stand up but your hand reached his chest pushing him back down. "I don't let girls ride me," he said. You shrugged spreading his legs apart. You stepped back and he watched as you undid your dress. He watched the cloth fall to the ground. His eyes are wide staring at your exposed body. Your breast and pussy are still concealed.

You stepped towards him hands falling on his velvet-covered thighs. He let out a hoarse moan. His eyes were wide, he had never moaned before. "Fuck," he cursed fisting his cock that stood tall in his hands. You straddled his waist moving your panties aside and aligning yourself over his cock. You slid down biting your lip and holding your groan from the pain in. He was a tight fit but eventually, you sat on his thick cock. Slowly your body rolled against him. He held his hands at your waist his hands guiding you closer, connecting your bodies to the speed you were going.

Your hands on his chest and shoulder unbuttoning the black buttons of his vest and ripping the fabric open bare chest minus a butterfly tattoo at his waistline. He let his eyes watch his cock disappear into your pussy squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you felt above him. He gripped onto your waist as you sped up your pace. "Fuck Yuta," you cursed through breaths. He sat forward holding your body close to his lifting you up slowly and fucking fast into you.

Your moan stuck in your throat. He saw stars as you squeezed around him. Letting out curses into your sweaty neck. Skin slapping could be heard around the bathroom as he pounded into your hole. You brought your hand to the back of his head holding on tightly to his hair and squeezing the threads between your fingers. He gritted his teeth grazing them over your neck.

He was dangerously close to cumming. There was no possible way you felt this could be around his cock. He really could get used to fucking you, too bad he couldn't.

"Fuck baby I can feel you squeeze around me. You close?" he asked staring up into your fucked out expression. You nodded bouncing on his cock. You could feel the knot form in your stomach your clit brushing against his pelvis. Your mouth fell open as curses slipped from your lips. Your climax hits you heard. Yuta wasn't too far behind groaning loudly as you squeezed around him. Your cum dripping on his cock and slipping out of your pussy. He felt drops of your cream fall onto his skin.

He groaned fucking hard and fast soon shooting his load into the condom.

Once you both finished he road out your highs and finally set you down. You lifted off of him quickly cleaning up. You slipped your dress back on. He zipped it for you. Once you were dressed you grabbed your phone checking and sending a quick text to Wendy.

He went to place a kiss on your lips but you turned away. He didn't get mad, he instead chuckled darkly. Confused you turned to him.

"Did you think I'd fall for your little revenge act?" he asked. You scoffed, "Excuse me?" you asked confused. He chuckled again a shake of his head in disbelief. "So you just gonna lie?" he said annoyed. "You are just a slut with money," he said darkly hitting a nerve. You widened your eyes taken back by his words but composed yourself.

"What does that make you Yuta? A saint?" you asked crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm a slut? What are you?" you asked stepping up to him. He scoffed eyeing you up and down smugly he didn't step back from you instead remained above you. "Just admit it. You and your friends are plotting some revenge against us for what? Doing normal boy things? You thought by becoming what some easy A that life would be easier?" he asked with a chuckle crossing his arms over his exposed chest. Yuta was the first one out of all the boys to make you feel a burn in your chest.

It felt like he was drilling holes in your chest and ripping out your heart. How could a person talk about what they've done to women so casually? Yuta was known for using girls and then ghosting them afterward. Robbing them dry when he didn't even need the money and yet here he was talking as if what he was doing was normal. Normal enough no one should ever dare to question him to get upset at him. Yet here you were upset at him and his friends.

He smugly stared at your smirk on his lips. His chest puffed out and his head held high. His eyes glowed as you shook your head annoyed tongue poking the inside of your mouth. Then you let out a chuckle. He raised a brow but didn't flinch. You looked into his eyes with a smile. A different smile than before, more sinister than loving like you had looked at him before. He shifted slightly uncomfortable. We're you crazy? He thought.

"I won't waste my precious breath on telling you a lie," you began with wide eyes and a shake of your head. "It is true. I used you and your friends to get revenge. And if you still wondering why then you the problem and everything you have waiting for you outside that door is deserved," you said motioning your hand to the bathroom door. Yuta still confused looked over your shoulder. He fixed himself walking past you. He walked out of the bathroom while you trailed behind. He walked back to the table and saw the person he hated the most in this world, his mother.

There she was in black shades sitting down with a drink in her hands. You crept behind him making him jump. His eyes were wide full of worry and fear. How did you even find her? He spent months looking for her yet you found her in what? Days? He huffed a gush of air leaving his chest. His mother looked up from the menu she held in her hands and directly at Yuta. You glanced away from her and then at him. You leaned close to his ear.

"Don't be rude. Go see your mother," you said. He turned to you and for the first time, you saw true fear in his face. "You crazy bitch," he said. You shrugged with a smile placing your shades over your eyes and a fresh piece of gum in your mouth. You popped your gum pushing him forward. He turned back to you but all you did was wave him goodbye.

Yuta's mother was hated by most people who met her. She was cut-throat, cruel, and mean to everyone around her, including her son. The hatred they shared for each other was so bad rumored he hired someone to kill her but they couldn't find her. It took you five days to discover her in a quiet village in the mountains of Japan. You told her what Yuta tried to do with proof, thanks to Jisung sneakily collecting information from his phone. Afterward, you invited her to meet her son again, and she gladly accepted.

You were about to leave your mission completed until someone stopped you. You smirked knowing who stood behind you. "I was wondering when you'd show up again," you said to the man behind you. He chuckled darkly hand sliding down your arm and placing itself on the small of your back. "You know I had to come to check myself. I don't trust you," he said. You scoffed, "Neither do I," you said moving so his hand would fall.

"Let me take you home?" he asked. You shook your head. "This is enough," you said walking away from the scene. As you walked out of the restaurant you heard a siren blare in the distance. You felt the man grab hold of your wrist. You turned around being faced to face with Johnny.

"I knew you were there the whole time," you said with a smile. He was dressed in a designer black suit. "I know," he said with a smile. "Impress getting his mother involved. I wonder what you'll do for Jaehyun now that there's no video I have to come up with a new plan," he said with a sigh. You yanked your arm away stepping towards Wendy you waited for you in her car. You stepped in and she immediately drove off.

“Johnny knows,” is all you said placing your head in your hand. Your elbow leaning on the window. Wendy quietly nodded her head.

“What exactly does he know?” She asked.

You sighed. “He knows my plan of revenge. I don’t think he knows Jisung is involved but he knows I’m plotting,” you said eyeing the road ahead of you as Wendy drove back to your apartment. “What are we gonna do?” She asked.

“Let him think he’s won. I need him to think he can dig something against me so that he can take me down,” you said adjusting yourself to fit comfortably in the seat. You took off your heels and Wendy motioned to the slippers behind you on the seat. You took the soft pink slippers and placed them on your aching feet.

“He can tell Jaehyun about what happened between us. It doesn’t matter to me anyone,” you said with a shrug. Wendy raised a brow. You had gone through all of that to no longer care?

“Oh really? I thought you did,” she said. You nodded understanding where she would think like that. “Before yes. Before I was scared but now that I think of it, it changed nothing. I don’t even need to plot and fuck Jaehyun behind their backs when it will hurt him more to know I fucked Johnny,” you said nonchalantly a careless shrug on your shoulders.

“How so?” She asked.

You shook your head playing with the hem of your dress a scoffed smirk on your lips. “Johnny is like his brother. All I need to do is tell Jaehyun and I’ve done my part,” you said watching as the familiar buildings that led to your apartment appeared. Every street light was on and guiding the car down the busy streets.

When you entered your apartment you were alone. Everyone, including Jisung, had left. You took off your slippers and placed your purse to the side where a servant would come to get it in the morning. The maid had already fallen asleep in her corners of the apartment and everyone else had gone home. It was just you alone in your living room in the middle of the night.

You decided to change out of your stuffy dress and shower. You changed into much more comfortable clothes.

You walked further into your home glancing over at the large Christmas tree placed just by your tv. Anyone looking in could see the large golden tree from outside your window. You smiled walking over to the bar. You walked around the counter pouring yourself a glass of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1945. You poured it to the top. You sat down with the glass in your hand taking a large sip. You placed it back down as you sat at your counter quietly.

You were almost done. You needed just a few names left to cross off your list. You walked over to your purse pulling that same list out. You head back to the counter pen in your hand as you cross out names on the list.

The first name you crossed was Yangyang’s.

You remembered the moment you shared back in the summer. It was barely a memorable moment, at least not for good reasons. He was so worried about looking like a loser he turned out to be a huge one. You remembered his failed attempt at pleasure. It made you cringe. You lifted the glass to your mouth taking another sip.

Moving on you reached Haechan. Now that was fun. You liked teasing him, you had never fucked the phone before. It was exciting and new. It gave you a small rush when that happened. You smiled head resting on your knuckles. Your ring leaves a small imprint on your chin.

Too bad he was such an ass you thought crossing off his name and taking another sip.

You choked a little when you saw Na Jaemin’s name appear. You usually didn’t like vanilla and the princess treatment you received from him was any girl's dream. You weren’t a personal fan of it being treated that way your entire life but you couldn’t lie at how skillful he was. You kind of regretted going further but you had your reason. You couldn’t fuck every single one of them, to the none virgins it would mean nothing.

You crossed off his name sipping your glass again.

When you reached Jeno’s name you felt a little sad. He had been the only one you’d seen repeatedly after everything you did. After all, he was a family friend. Your father and mother adored him but after letting him solely take the downfall they hated him. Hated that he lied and used you. They pushed his entire family away cutting all ties.

You crossed his name out and sipped your wine again.

“Mark Lee,” you said to yourself tapping your pen on the uncrumbled loose-leaf paper. You sucked your teeth with a shake of your head. “You might just be a bigger perv than both Haechan and Doyoung combined,” you said with a sigh as you crossed out his name. “But you did your part in the end so I guess that makes us somewhat even,” you said taking another sip.

“Doyoung,” you said. He wasn’t half bad at sex but that fucker almost got you caught. Thank God you scared him good or else everything would have been exposed. The last thing you needed was another scandal to your name. You crossed his name off and took another sip.

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you said out loud crossing his name off. You had nothing to say about him but a wish. You wished he got everything that was coming for him.

You eyed the last few names written down.

Jaehyun, Johnny, and Taeyong.

Wouldn’t it just be easier to deal with Taeyong now? You questioned Jisung’s planning. Why did Taeyong have to happen last? What was his importance?

You tapped your pen on the counter. You swirled your wine glass in your hand. You placed the pen down on the counter. Your phone rang beside you. You picked up seeing an unknown number. You declined the call but the number called again. You decided to pick it up.

“Hello?” You asked the other person confused.

“Hello Y/n,” he said back. It was Johnny’s voice.

You felt your body tense but you relaxed yourself.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” You asked. He chuckled on the other line.

“Do you still think you’re ahead?” He asked. You scoffed. “Ahead of what?” You asked with a smile. He sighed. “You know you left something behind in the limo,” he said. You raised a brow leaning your elbow that held your phone on the counter.

“Oh really. What did I leave?” You asked.

“You left an earring,” he said. You heard him sniff through the other line. “Still smells like you,” he hummed. “Do you want it back?” He asked. You shook your head. “I don’t need it,” you said with a shrug. “You can keep it,” you responded nonchalantly.

“Are you sure?” He asked. You nodded. “Positive. It’s yours to keep,” you said. Johnny remained quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“Yuta left the country,” he said. “Again,”

“His mother made him follow her home. I guess she’ll handle things in Japan,” he said you remained quiet just listening to him speak. “What did you say to make her come?” He asked. “I know Yuta hates his mother but she hates him too so how did you make it possible?” He asked.

“No one can refuse a check,” you said.

“Fair,” he said. “So what are your plans for Jaehyun? I mean I’m assuming you’re saving him for last correct?” He asked. Before you spoke it had not clicked in your brain why Taeyong would be last. Jisung knew eventually Johnny would catch onto you. He’d put enough pieces together to figure out your plan. And because of your intense history with Jaehyun, he’d just assume you’d be more dramatic, a theatrical ending. But Jaehyun being next and Taeyong being last is something he’d never seen coming.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said biting back your smile. You played with the corner of the loose leaf. Johnny chuckled. “Okay, Y/n I’ll continue to play along with you. I enjoy these games we play together,” he said.

“Which ones? The one where you beg or the ones where you have to chase me?” You asked your tongue flirtatiously licked your teeth, a smile on your lips.

“Both,” he responded. “I win either way,” you said with a shrug.

“Not this time,” is all he said sternly before he hung up. The tone of his voice knocked you off balance for a moment but you decided to ignore it. Tomorrow was going to be a big day and a start to a very long week.

You had been preparing yourself mainly for Jaehyun and now you felt ready enough to face him and everything he did to you.

You checked the loose leaf paper staring down at his name. You drew a heart next to his name. Just as you crossed it out your phone rang. You glanced over checking it, a call from Jisung.

"Hello?" you answered. "I thought you were only going to text me," you said. "It's about Jaehyun, he may be harder than we thought," Jisung said slight panic in his voice. It made you sit up a raised brow in your features. "How so? I thought we worked everything through," you said.

"He has a girlfriend," he said. You let out a breath releasing a soft chuckle. "Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"How much do you think I can send her to make her quietly leave him?" you asked checking your nails. Jisung stood quiet most likely thinking of a new plan. "She is in your English lecture. Her name is Miyeon," he said sending you her contact information including her social media. You stood up walking over to your couch. You picked up your iPad as well. You sat on the couch wine in your hand and phone to your ear.

"Great. I'll make a call and everything should be handled by morning," you said confidently. "You're going to call her now? It's eleven-thirty," Jisung said surprised. You shrugged brushing off his comments. "She's definitely awake if she's dating Jaehyun," you said. "Anyways I'll call you after to update you. We can come up with a new plan," you said. Jisung sighed. "Alright," he said before you hung up.

You leaned over to the lamp table grabbing the telephone. You dialed her number placing it to your ear. You heard it has it rang soon after a few rings she picked up.

"Hello?" you heard her soft voice.

"Hi is this Choi Miyeon?" you asked your voice preppier than before.

"Yes this is she," she responded waiting for your reason for calling.

"Miyeon I'd like to make you an offer," you said. "What for?" she asked confused. "You dating Jung Jaehyun right?" you asked. "Yes, why?" she asked completely lost.

"I'd like to offer you a great sum to break off your relationship," you said calmly. You heard the gasp in her voice. "What?" she asked. You let out a frustrated sigh. "I'd give you a lot of money to leave him," you said.

"What? Who are you?" she asked a bit of fear in her voice. "Look I can offer you twenty grand," you said to her annoyed. She remained quiet on the other line. "Thirty," she said back.

"Ten and I'll pay for a trip for you and your girlfriends," you said back quickly. You heard her hum. "Deal," she said. "I'll the money delivered in cash. How do the Maldives sound?" you asked booking the trip on your iPad. "Holiday break?" you asked. "Yes," she responded.

"Okay before I send you anything I need proof and if you lie to me you don't want to find out," you said sternly. Miyeon laughed, "Girl you're paying for my girl's trip and a good chunk of my tuition. I'll do anything you ask if you pay," she said.

"Noted," you said with a smile. You continued to text Wendy as you spoke to her. "I'm sending my assistant over now. She'll provide you the money and tickets. You will provide her proof. Call this number when you do," you said back. "Will do," she said and then hung up.

You went to call Jisung before you received a text.

#8- I hope you are happy.

Y/n- Why wouldn't I be. I had a great time on our date.

#8- I'll kill you bitch.

Y/n- Get in line.

Read

#8- Johnny is gonna ruin you.

Y/n- I'd like to see him and you try.

You chuckled going to call Jisung as you waited for Miyeon to call back and when she did you were more than ready for Jaehyun.

To Be Continued... Everything is about to change.

Merry Christmas.

I hope you enjoyed part 8 of my 10-part series Easy A. I tried to get this one out before Christmas passed but with finals, I was really busy so I'm finishing this Christmas Eve. Hopefully, with the added free time I can finish this series before January. Continue to support the series, please! And I'll see you guys in part 9. I can't believe it's almost over.

Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore @toroufriteh

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