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survival these days meant you lived or died by the people around you, and georgia sure did have some powerful players around her. vaughn was the person that everyone wanted to be close to, and here she was in a van with his hand on her thigh. georgia knew it was wrong, but that damn schoolgirl crush of hers didn't care. she couldn't tell if that was why her heart was beating so loudly, or simply how much she hated being out here. either way, georgia was on edge and she knew it must be annoying. "always." she breathes the answer, sincerity ringing in her tone. feelings aside, she knew she could always trust him. georgia sucks in a breath when he speaks again, curiosity ringing in her body as he turns off the car. the blonde doesn't speak again, just watches him with wide blue eyes. she can practically hear her heart in her ears, but she obeys, slipping out from the car and moving to the back with him. "what are you going to do?" she manages to ask without a shaky voice, but fuck is she nervous.

vaughn doesn't know much. he follows his whims, he follows his gut, the consequences be damned. it didn't matter who it hurt or who it killed or what happened. there was a greed beneath him that can't be satiated. anything he wanted, he got with the wave of his hand. there's another squeeze of her thigh, teasing and comforting as much as he could. for someone like vaughn, he knows his presence is commanding. it didn't take much for her to fall into his lap; all he had to do was show her a little attention and here georgia was. it was almost too easy. as she exits the car, quiet of the night surrounding them. the moaning of the monsters in the distance does nothing to deter his ravaging thoughts, thinking only about what he wants in the moment. a hand grips her ass, pulling her closer. “you ever been with that boy i seen you walking 'round with, georgia?" he keeps tabs on her; of course he does.

disappointment   perhaps   or   intrigue.   the   two   tend   to   blur   on   his   tongue.   roman   takes   a   step   further   into   the   room,   unhurried.   his   coat   remains   on,   his   gloves   still   fitted   neatly   to   his   hands,   as   though   he   hasn’t   yet   decided   whether   this   is   worth   settling   in   for.   “you   break   into   my   home,”   he   continues,   each   word   placed   with   care,   “make   yourself   comfortable,”   a   faint   pause,   almost   thoughtful,   “and   yet   you   fail   to   notice   when   i   return.”   he   circles   slightly,   not   touching   or   intervening.   simply   observing.   like   a   man   assessing   something   already   decided.   “planning,”   roman   murmurs,   almost   to   himself.   “so   much   effort,   i   imagine.   so   much   devotion   poured   into   every   detail…”   his   gaze   settles.   sharpens.   “and   still,”   quieter   now,   edged   with   something   colder,   “you   overlooked   the   only   variable   that   matters.   me.”   roman   reaches   out   then.   callous   fingers   grasping   at   her   chin   with   a   firm   inevitability,   as   though   the   outcome   was   never   in   question.   “look   at   you,”   he   says,   almost   gently,   though   nothing   about   him   is   kind.   “all   that   anticipation   wasted   on   the   wrong   moment.”   his   thumb   stills,   his   grip   just   enough   to   command   attention   without   asking   for   it.   “tell   me,”   roman   adds,   voice   dropping   lower,   silk   over   steel,   “was   this   meant   to   impress   me   or   were   you   hoping   to   be   caught?”

and  maybe  the  point  was  to  be  caught.  maybe  the  reason  to  be  put  over  his  knee,  to  be  degraded  and  exposed  for  what  she  is  –  something  slutty,  silk  beneath  his  fingers  to  be  mended  and  formed  into  his  own  private  pleasure.  roman  can  do  whatever  he'd  like  as  long  as  he  touched  her.  as  he  goes  on,  yas  keeps  her  chuckles  in.  if  he  only  knew…  her  obsession  only  grows  by  the  day,  the  millisecond.  every  time  he  breathed,  she  knew  she  wanted  him  in  any  form.  it  didn't  matter  the  cost.  the  fingers  along  her  chin  send  sparks  down  her  spine,  a  brisk  chill  from  the  winter  weather  against  blushing  skin.  even  with  the  brutality  of  the  force,  the  sharp  edge  of  his  voice,  it  does  nothing  for  yasmin  but  make  her  shake  harder.  pleasure?  fear?  both?  she  can't  quite  discern;  her  tongue  sticks  out,  just  a  bit,  as  if  a  dog  awaiting  a  treat  they  never  asked  for,  only  assumed  they  would  be  receiving.  she  can  be  a  good  pet,  if  he  wanted.  if  he  forgave  her  for  this.  “i  just  –  i  just  wanted  to,  um  -  ”  she  can't  think  straight,  lust  riddling  every  single  thought  she  has.  chest  is  heaving  with  anticipation  of  what  he'll  do.  “i  didn't  think  you'd  be  home  so  quickly,  is  all.”

the   silence   between   them   stretches.   pulled   tight   like   a   wire   waiting   to   snap   back   and   draw   blood.   lisha   doesn’t   move   at   first.   letting   the   words   drip   from   his   mouth.   cheap,   taunting,   predictable.   bored   hues   watching   him   pace   like   he’s   the   one   in   control,   like   this   isn’t   already   slipping   neatly   through   his   fingers.   her   gaze   lifts   to   him   slowly.   unimpressed,   bored,   the   faint   ghost   of   a   smile   tugging   on   the   edge   of   rose   colored   lips.   “god,   you   really   don’t   know   how   to   sit   still,   do   you?”   her   voice   drips,   honeyed   and   sharp,   like   she’s   already   picked   him   apart   and   found   him   lacking.   silas   had   been   a   nuisance   in   her   otherwise   picturesque   life   ever   since   the   moment   their   parents   got   together.   with   a   shift   of   her   hips,   lisha   settles   once   more   atop   the   oversized   bear.   “and   here   i   thought   you   wanted   to   put   me   in   my   place,”   she   adds,   quieter   now,   gaze   dragging   over   him   like   she’s   the   one   doing   the   evaluating.   the   bear   beneath   her   is   incidental.   a   prop.   nothing   more. lisha   leans   back   slightly,   bracing   herself   on   her   hands,   posture   loosening   into   something   far   too   intentional   to   be   embarrassed.   which   was   probably   his   intention   in   the   first   place.   to   humilate   her   but   unforunately   for   silas,   she   was   too   stubborn.   “or   is   that   the   problem?”   she   muses,   tilting   her   head,   watching   him   through   half   lidded   eyes.   “you   don’t   actually   know   what   to   do   when   i   don’t   follow   the   script.”   her   smile   sharpens.   “i   told   you   i’d   put   on   a   show,”   lisha   murmurs,   voice   dropping   just   enough   to   pull   at   the   tension   between   them.   “i   didn’t   say   it   was   going   to   be   quick.   now   i   get   why   you   can’t   keep   a   girlfriend.   you   always   did   seem   like   the   type   to   skip   foreplay.”   her   hips   move   even   slower   now,   more   deliberate,   like   she’s   dragging   the   moment   out   just   to   see   how   long   he   can   stand   it.   “you   look   tense,”   she   adds   lightly,   like   she’s   commenting   on   the   weather.   like   she   doesn’t   already   know   exactly   what   she’s   doing.   “all   that   pacing.   all   that   attitude.”   her   eyes   flick   down   and   back   up   again,   slow   enough   to   be   unmistakable. “for   someone   who   won,   you   don’t   seem   very   satisfied.”   the   words   land   soft   and   breathy.   there’s   a   moan   on   the   tip   of   her   tongue   but   she   refuses   to   give   him   that.   even   as   the   slow   roll   of   her   hips   becomes   harder   to   disguise   as   performance   alone.   the   friction   turning   traitorous,   sparks   catching   low   in   her   stomach   and   spreading   in   a   way   she   absolutely   did   not   plan   for. her   expression   stays   controlled   but   there’s   a   subtle   shift.   her   fingers   pressing   a   little   tighter   into   the   plush   beneath   her.   her   shoulders   drawing   back   like   she’s   bracing   against   something   unseen.   something   felt.   yet   still   she   doesn’t   stop.   if   anything,   she   leans   into   it   because   stopping   would   mean   admitting   it’s   affecting   her   and   she’d   rather   choke   on   her   pride. lisha   leans   forward   slightly   now,   just   enough   to   close   some   of   the   space   between   them. “unless,”   she   continues,   quieter   still,   something   almost   tauntingly   curious   threading   through   her   tone,   “this   isn’t   about   winning and you   just   needed   an   excuse   to   watch.”

instead  of  responding,  he  stands  in  front  of  her;  arms  crossed,  defiant  and  steady.  if  she  wants  to  antagonize  him,  she  can,  but  silas  won't  give  up  his  chances  of  getting  what  he  wants.  not  when  it's  right  in  front  of  him,  teasing  him  like  a  mirage.  he's  counting  his  blessing  enough,  pinch  himself  when  he's  alone  to  make  sure  it's  not  a  dream.  “an  excuse  to  watch  isn't  as  bad  as  an  excuse  for  you  to  put  on  this  show..”  that  barely  makes  any  sense,  and  he  can't  be  bothered  to  think  straight  right  now.  his  hand  dips  to  her  chin,  tongue  wetting  lips  as  he  stares  at  her.  “you're  looking  like  you're  enjoying  this  more  than  i  am  right  now.”  thumb  toys  with  her  bottom  lip,  thinking.  “you  can  do  it  faster.  bet  you  want  to,  too.”  he  wants  her  to  get  off  to  the  friction  of  it.

ever since they met, sabrina always got on elena's nerves. she just found her too much of an opposite and bickered whenever the blonde spoke up. now, it seemed like they had to get along to survive. even the suggestion of kissing to impress the sorority sisters felt out of place and she was quite surprised to hear such an idea from the other but she wasn't going to back down from it. especially when she didn't want to seem uncomfortable in front of her. “to me, it sounds like you've been wanting to kiss me all these years,” she stated in attempt to rile up sabrina. “but sure. since you want to so badly, you have to kiss me.” elena leaned close, eyes staring back at hers, as she waited to see if she'd actually do it.

call  it  sink  or  swim  —  this  is  a  kamikaze  moment,  and  sabrina  isn't  willing  to  let  elena  get  in  the  way  of  want  she  wants:  in  on  this  sorority  house,  in  on  the  reason  her  mother  pushed  her  to  attend  this  school  so  hard.  she's  worked  hard  for  this,  a  family  tradition.  eyes  roll,  a  husky  laugh,  no  denial.  if  elena  wants  to  play  games,  she  can  too.  tit  for  that  and  all  that.  “right,  right,  because  you  act  like  i've  never  felt  your  eyes  on  my  ass  when  i  walk  away  from  you.”  her  hand  grips  the  others  neck,  light  and  feathery,  to  pull  her  closer,  devouring  her.  the  kiss  is  short  –  way  too  short  for  sabrina's  liking,  despite  her  pulling  away.  eyes  hungry,  can  barely  contain  her  breathing.  she  can  feel  the  eyes  of  the  others  on  them.  if  they're  cheering,  the  blonde  can't  hear  it  over  the  sound  of  blood  rushing  in  her  ears.  “lay  down.”

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LARA RAJ Birds & the Bees (2026)