—— OCEAN DRIVE.

#𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄. is a  dependent ,  multi - muse blog for svnsetnoir,  written and suffered loved by lana.

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 ; neon rot, borrowed coastlines and spilled ambition, the weight of allegiance, staying for ruin or starting clean, leaving bodies behind and the price of beautiful sins, survival and spectacle, chosen loyalties and wars inherited.

★ — mature & triggering themes ahead.

★ anthony knight ⸻  ♡ ⸻  brynn westley. ★ beatriz almeida ⸻  ♡ ⸻ cash valentine. ★ devon hawthorne ⸻ ♡ ⸻ samuel persson. ★ ethan demko ⸻ ♡ ⸻ bianca carvahlo. ★ ilona laurent ⸻ ♡ ⸻ preston rivers. ★ milo reed ⸻  ♡ ⸻  reyhan avci.

The knock at his door barely managed to pull Anthony's focus out of the mountains of paperwork on his desk. A grumble under his breath and a quick look at his watch told him it was much later than he thought, and as always, time seemed to pass in a blur when he was this deep in research. He had an appointment with a new colleague, a fellow in the Humanities department whose own work warranted enough interest that the chair insisted they join forces. Not one to work well with others, he barely spared the stranger a glance, muttering a cold ''Come in,'' and gesturing to the seat before his desk. ''Whatever the Chair of this faculty has told you, I'm not sharing my work with anyone,. Sorry you wasted your time coming here,'' he announced, even before lifting his head. The sight before him threatened to steal his breath, the brunette's eyes so piercing he felt his frown deepen with annoyance.

He'd been watching her for some time now. Milo knew exactly how she would lift the fork to her lips, expected the frown slowly etching itself on her pretty face, and walked slowly towards her until he stood right before her table. ''Everything to your liking, Miss?'' he demanded in a feigned polite tone that would make his friends point and laugh at him. This was necessary, as necessary as his hazing when he entered the Mob, as vital as everything else he'd ever done for the group he considered his family. He kept reminding himself while he avoided her stare, focusing on a freckle under her eye. The stunning brunette sat there confused, chewing through the too-hard piece of steak he'd burned on purpose, her posture straight despite the disgust she attempted to hide on her face.

You're not out of energy yet? The sentence looped in her mind, hazy from the buzz of the joint she was pulling from, a smirk already tugging at her lips. Beatriz was far from tired. If anything, she felt more revigorated than she had been all day while prepping for the feast and enjoying it with friends. ''You wish,'' she replied, but it didn't carry much of the sass she was used to. The in-between was where she thrived, silent moments stolen only to herself exactly as she was now, swaying to the beat and promptly ignoring the too-large presence of Cash in the other room. There were so many reasons why this was dangerous. His staying behind wasn't unexpected, but it felt different tonight in the aftermath of the party, an intimate, secluded setting like it had been carved just for them. She felt him walk up behind her and let herself be spun around. Cash flicked the joint out of her mouth and pressed his lips against hers, and suddenly the buzzing of her mind was welcome solace. Beatriz felt her entire body give under his grip, melting into him like there wasn't anywhere else she'd rather be. He parted only long enough for a quirky line, so typical of his careless youth, making a giggle bubble within her. She'd spent so long restraining herself, hours coaching him while attempting to avoid the magnetic pull of his baby blues, keeping a distance for all the eyes that constantly followed them. This was a reprieve, a moment she could let herself enjoy, consequences be damned. ''We shouldn't do this,'' she still heard herself mumble against his lips, despite her own hands reaching up to tangle in his mess of blond hair, pulling him tighter against her body. Her teeth grazes and finally caught his bottom lip, stifling a moan when his hand gripped her breast. ''There are so, so many reasons why this is a bad idea.''

She blushed under his praise, knowing the flush would spread over her exposed chest, noticeable even in the dim light of his office. It was ironic how she made a living off of dancing naked for strangers, but was rendered a shy thing under Samuel's piercing gaze. ''Why, thank you,'' she replied with a mock curtsy. He didn't miss anything, examining her Christmas-themed outfit with a heated gaze she knew would stay burned in her mind. She brought the glass to her lips and sipped on the overly-sweet drink, if only to give herself something to do. ''As usual,'' she shrugged, thinking back to the brave few who came to drown their holiday sadness with the sight of sparkles and flesh. It wasn't a bad gig, but Devon felt better being up here with him, away from the unmerriment. Like he'd read her mind, Samuel hand-guided her to sit on his lap, and the world shifted, narrowing to the large hand that gripped her thigh, the other smoothing down her back and making obvious gooseflesh prickle on her skin. She felt her nipples pebble under the sheer material of her bra and hoped she wasn't too obvious in her desire. ''Well, let's see,'' she settled further into him, refusing to question the propriety of their actions and giving herself wholly into this little play they'd introduced. ''A new car, a penthouse,'' she began listing, counting down her fingers and feigning deep thoughts as she chose her gifts. ''A million dollars, if only to spend it at Agent Provocateur,'' she added, legs shifting so they were slightly spread further onto his lap, her center already heating at the friction. ''Is there some Christmas magic you can work to make it happen?''

The world spun as she was being turned around in the stranger's arms, and when she finally locked eyes with him, everything else momentarily faded. It was unsettling how sobering the sight of River was, making everything in her body still, caught, trapped in his arms. What were the chances, she thought briefly, though she wouldn't admit that even drunk, blind and left to her own devices, her body would always find its way back to him. She ignored the pang in her heart at his words, her lips stretching instead into a devious smile, settling further in his arms. ''You, obviously,'' she replied with a nod at their current position, promptly disregarding how inappropriate it might have been for them to embrace as they did now. At the mention of water and fresh air, she suddenly felt queasy, the dizziness of alcohol rushing back in an unpleasant lancing through her body. ''Get me out of here, baby, please,'' was all she managed before burrowing her face into his neck, clinging to him like her last solace. Sober thoughts would have her remark that he was here for her yet again, saving her when she didn't deserve it, and she began mumbling drunk apologies in the crook of his neck, hoping he would believe them.

It was all too much. Ethan couldn't exactly pinpoint what did it, whether it was the sight of her in the dim light, a state of undress that had him reeling, the offending image of her good-for-nothing boyfriend's shirt making her the perfect temptation. She marched over to him, swiped his drink away, and in the face of all that restrained rage, he felt his own patience snap. It happened too fast, though there was no restraining him now. Setting be damned, their own partners sleeping on the floor above them, parents who would have no qualms causing a scene if they were caught, but Ethan had waited too long, and Bianca knew exactly how to press his buttons. He moved quickly, standing over her, making sure the glass would tumble onto the sofa lest it make more noise than needed. He felt his figure tower over her, eyes locking into her pretty brown ones, but it wasn't enough. He needed to make a point, needed her to understand exactly who she was poking, what she was unleashing in him, and so he threw the last of his caution to the wind and moved into her, marching them until she was caged between the wall and his arms. ''You don't know what the fuck you're asking,'' he growled, low enough that he could feel it reverberate into her, satisfaction coursing through him. A large hand lifted to settle on her throat, not yet gripping but possessive enough to make a point. ''I treat you like a child, because you're not ready for how I treat women, little bunny.'' His other hand moved to lock her hips against him, aware that she would feel the bulge of him on her stomach, how desperately hard he already was for her. ''Be careful what you wish for. If I decide to fuck you the way I want to right now, I'll send you limping back to that piece of shit sleeping upstairs.'' The hand around her neck tightened ever so slightly, so tempted to leave his imprint like a collar on her skin. His head dropped until his lips were hovering just above the shell of her ear, tongue darting to trace a slow path down to the lobe. ''This is your last warning. Still wanna play?''