A rolling barrage of drums kicked off the next set. It followed with the resonating shrill of a trumpet, the layering support of the piano, and the cornerstone of the bass.
Amidst the music, Ezreal guffawed.
Sona laughed along with him, feeling her frame shudder with the hiccupping of her giggles. It had been a while since they had talked together, and the atmosphere had finally warmed up between them. The past half hour was warm. Jovial. Friendly. Everything that defined whatever it was they had shared throughout the years.
She didn't even need her shorthand communicator anymore, the hextech widget tucked into her clutch purse.
Ezreal's raucous outburst slowly subsided with small chuckles. He looked at his friend, eyes warm. She looked at him back. A comfortable silence ensued, but his gaze stayed on her.
This was what he needed. He spent too much time only with Ahri that he forgot just how great it was to spend time with Sona. There was something about her that made him feel at ease, calm enough to tell her anything on his mind, no matter how ridiculous or silly.
Ridiculous or silly was just what his troubled mind needed tonight.
Sona felt the exact same way. It had been far too long since the maven had exchanged time with him, something that she desperately missed.
But beneath the surface, beneath her jovial smiles and warm eyes, Miss Buvelle was panicking.
What the fuck was she doing?
What was she thinking? Dragging Ezreal into a private chamber like this, all alone, sharing a drink?
As he looked away from her, focused on the band playing below, Sona's eyes couldn't help but admire his striking jawline, the way his eyes smiled with his lips. And also the way his eyes looked as lonely as his lips.
The moment that thought crossed her mind the girl jerked her attention away. This was exactly what she was thinking about.
Ezreal began talking again, and she found it hard to look away from those lips, those teeth, that mouth that never embraced hers. Soon enough, Sona began to accept the fact that she didn't bring him into this private lounge for the innocent platonic conversation. Her subconscious wanted something from him that was taken from her.
She wanted something that she couldn't have if Ahri was here.
Seduction came easy to the maven. Beneath her innocent public image, she knew how to coax pleasure from any man she wanted, any time she wanted. Her nightlife was as vivacious as her compositions. Nights filled with passion, driven by an insatiable lust. It wouldn't be uncommon for her to give ambassadors she might find attractive a "private performance" in their chambers or give the young, fledgling prodigy "a few tips" in her apartment.
She was particular with who she spent her nights with. Usually satiating her desires for one or two nights in a whole year. And she had never been denied.
But even with her promiscuous repertoire, Sona had never been able to nab the explorer. It wasn't as if she didn't try, but he always seemed to have his eye on something else. The ambitions that kept his gaze were always gripping his heart. In recent years, those ambitions have always been other women. She knew he slept around, using his wiles and his charm to bed any woman he please. She wanted to take advantage of that, use that to see if this explorer was as good as his reputation.
Sona remembered the night well. It was always exciting to lure someone experienced.
Oh, he was dating Caitlyn? Not a problem. She'd seen him at the bar while she performed. Leaning casually against the counter like that, using those perfect lips of his to woo a girl into his arms, and eventually, into his sheets. His girlfriend was probably a diplomatic, status sort of thing. Some Piltoverian unification agenda. And even if it wasn't, she had ways to work around it.
The barbarian king of Freljord could testify.
As she started talking to him that night when they first met, the maven realized there was something different about this man. She was a master of subtlety, but even with her little silent quips and suggestive twirling of her hair, the innocent eyes, Ezreal was loyal. He didn't meander into her traps, take the bait when she would press her cleavage against his arm. He was admant and docile.
The playboy had been subjugated.
And yet, even after she recognized that fact, she kept talking to him. He was someone she actually enjoyed conversing with. Rare on Institute grounds. The Summoners who could actually talk with her were usually probing and cold, save for the occasional caring one.
Ezreal instantly became her friend. And she didn't mind.
As the years went by, however, her attraction grew deeper. She wasn't in love or anything, but the tales of what he was capable of gnawed at the back of her mind when they would have a drink together. The occasional brush of his hand against hers, the twinkle in his eyes when he laughed. Sona wondered what his face would look like when he would reach a peak, driving himself inside of her. She wondered what those experienced hands would do to her, his best friend.
Soon enough those fantasies were gone. The attraction was still there, but it all disappeared after one major event: Ahri.
If she was honest with herself, Sona was planning to snatch the explorer the moment she heard about his breakup with Caitlyn. She felt sorry for him of course, felt sympathy that this woman he was in love with, the girl who changed his life had cheated on him. But at the same time that desire for the explorer overcame any sort of platonic sentiment she might have reserved for him.
This had been the opportunity she had been waiting for.
Then of course, the fateful night of her plan came, and a nine-tailed solution to all of Ezreal's problems swooped in, using experience and wiles Sona could never dream of possessing. She could only sigh in disappointment when she saw the fox take him away.
She sighed in even more disappointment when he fell in love with her.
Jealousy was the first thing she felt, making her subtly pout onstage whenever she saw her friend with the fox. Of course, she and Ezreal were never an item or anything but she still had claim on him. In her eyes, she was the one who knew him best.
But gradually, she started to see something change in him. A sort of…healing transformation. His smiles were brighter. Those eyes that smiled with him, those eyes that had disappeared after what happened with Caitlyn, they came back. Brighter than before.
Sure, now he talked less with the maven, but when they did, she noticed that he seemed happier than she had ever seen him in all those years.
So it wasn't until recently that the maven had given up on the explorer, knowing that he had his own happiness, something that would be ruined if he just…slept with her. Her fantasies ceased, her gaze began to grow truly platonic.
All of these musings turned over in her head as she looked at him. And panic arose in her once again.
If all of this was true, if their friendship was real, and wasn't a ruse for her to get into his pants…why did she suddenly feel this way again?
The jazz outside continued to grow more heated, feverish. And so did Sona's revived lust.
All of those fantasies and emotions began to resurface.
The panic simmered and took form in a blush on her cheeks. She sat straighter, turning her body towards the one-way glass of the room. Without her knowing a tension had settled between them. One that she alone had created. She felt Ezreal's eyes on her cheeks, the chuckles diminishing to a weird silence. What was he looking at? Ice in his glass of bourbon clinked as he raised it to his lips, and his gaze didn't leave her face.
Sona could almost feel a panicked sweat form on her brow. The minutes passed and she shifted her legs uncomfortably, feeling the nervousness mingle with her own suppressed desire.
Was he looking at her the way she had always wanted him to?
Why? He had a girlfriend. He had Ahri for gods' sake. Why would he look to her when his girlfriend could very well be classified as a goddess?
She tried to focus on the band below, reaching forward to absentmindedly place her half-filled glass on the coffee table. Her heart jumped to her throat as Ezreal reached out and stopped her.
Sona turned to look at him. He had the most serious look she had ever seen from him. His eyes were icy. She couldn't read him. With her heart jackhammering inside her chest, she didn't dare look away from his gaze. She felt him take her glass, placing it on the coffee table next to his.
She was suddenly aware of his breaths. Quick. Nervous?
Her breaths suddenly reflected his as Ezreal's hand smoothed up the soft skin of her bared arms. She saw his icy gaze shift, following the progress of his fingers. They didn't just…move up her arm, she could feel his touch…savor the journey. Like he had wanted this for ages. Like he had wanted her for ages.
The maven wasn't left much time to dwell upon this or to process the sensation of his hand quickly palm over her shoulder to the back of her neck.
As quickly as Ezreal stopped her from putting down her glass, his lips seized hers.
What the fuck was he doing?
Ezreal sighed into the stolen kiss, savoring the flavor of Sona's mouth. She didn't kiss him back, but he knew that she was thinking this was long overdue. He always knew how she felt about him. How she wanted him.
But of course, friendship got in the way of things. Caitlyn did too, and so did Ahri.
He never gave her the chance to get what she wanted.
It wasn't as if she wasn't attractive. On the contrary, from the very first moment he saw her, strumming an aria to heal a limping teammate near the muddy banks of a river on Summoner's Rift, Ezreal recognized her as the most beautiful woman in the Institute.
Maybe that's why he never reciprocated her advances. He respected her too much. Respected her craft, her image, her beauty. Of course he had caught wind of her escapades. Rumors of who she had slept with in days gone by, but even so, her innocence and demure was almost tangible. Why would he lay his filthy hands on such a pure, innocent, radiant-
…who was he kidding?
He'd always wanted her.
Those plump curves, the girlish innocent smile that insinuated mischief, her fingers' expertise, Ezreal had desired her for as long as he had known her.
But, similar to denying her the chance to express her desire, he never gave himself the desire either.
In the early stages of their acquaintance, she seemed to unattainable. A celebrity loved by all of Valoran. Of course, Ezreal was a celebrity, but he always saw himself below the caliber of Sona's fame.
Then, he lost interest. Caitlyn grabbed him, keeping him docile, and faithful.
So faithful, that even when Sona approached him during his relationship, offering what he had wanted from her freely…he had to turn her down. When Ezreal promised or dedicated himself to something, he stuck to it. And during that particular time, that promise was Caitlyn.
Regardless, he felt something bloom between him and this mute musician that he had lusted for. A friendship. Reflecting Sona's own experience with the explorer, he found in her a friend that he had trouble finding in anyone else. She understood things not even the Summoners could. She listened and joked like nobody else he had met on the Institute grounds.
And, reflecting Sona's experience once again, he felt the lust fade. He felt the desire crumble.
She became a close friend. Probably his closest friend.
Time moved on, and an opportunity for him to reciprocate Sona's advances showed itself…but his heart was too broken to take even a single step towards that direction. During this period of time, Sona herself could have seized the chance, but a cunning fox stole it from her.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The accumulation of misdirected passions and loyalties fettered these feelings for too long. It had boiled undetected beneath their conversations with every passing day. And that night, as the jazz continued to play outside, the privacy of the lounge allowing those straining desires to sprout…an opportunity had arisen again.
Ezreal knew why the maven had really brought him in here, mirroring the actions of Ahri's all those months ago. The cheeky girl. Everything was set just right, and she was going to pounce. She didn't know that he was going to pounce back.
Everything was set just right.
Ahri was gone.
Ezreal was lonely.
Sona wanted him.
All of these thoughts rushed through Sona's mind as she still processed the forbidden kiss on her lips.
All of these thoughts were cast to the wayside as Ezreal gripped her skin whilst his mouth gripped hers.
He pushed forward with another kiss, eager for her to start kissing him back. But the maven's lips remained still. As still as her body, frozen in his grip. In his drunken stupor, a sliver of sense wriggled into his conscience. What if she actually didn't want this anymore? What if her motives to bring him into this room weren't as…subversive as he thought?
Quickly Ezreal withdrew from the kiss, putting her at an arm's distance. A hint of panic in his eyes, his gaze dug into hers, worried of what he might find.
Sure enough, her eyes were wide in surprise, her lips trembling. Regret instantly spread through his psyche, as the tight grip on her arms softened. He couldn't help but wonder what she would be saying right now if she wasn't a mute.
The aria of a trumpet outside ended, bookended by a soft applause. A silence ensued.
Ezreal tried to decipher what Sona was thinking, what those eyes were trying to say that her lips couldn't.
Those soft, sweet lips.
In the panicked few seconds of separation, he couldn't help but begin to already miss the electric sensation of his kiss. He didn't have to imagine how her lips felt anymore.
Before he could knock some sense into himself, it was Ezreal's turn to be shocked.
Sona had closed the distance between their mouths again. Her kiss was more desperate, more needy. Ezreal barely had time to accustom himself to her assault as she continued, shifting her lips over his, interlocking their soft pinkness in a flurry of warmth.
Time slowed to a slow crawl. Another window opened, a window for Ezreal. A sort of fight or flight mechanism triggered in his mind.
For a momentary, singular second, his judgment reared its head. For a momentary, singular second, Ezreal almost looked past his lust and the influence of the alcohol. But that moment quickly imploded once the alto sax outside began a sultry swing.
His instincts kicked into gear, the instincts honed after years of wanton debauchery.
He kissed her back, hard.
Her hot breath urged him to push into her, Sona's lips eagerly shifting her lips for new, hotter kisses. He felt her hands on the back of his neck. His own hands slid up her body, brushing past her breasts. He cupped her face, guiding their collective kisses with a soft grip.
The seconds melted away, their kisses grew increasingly heated. He would separate momentarily, letting his breath wrap her mouth. He couldn't get enough of her eyes.
Before long, his body followed his advances; Ezreal found himself over her, legs encaging her below him. Sona shifted to sit straighter against the couch. Their kisses resumed. Ezreal reveled in the taste of bourbon that glazed her softness, and soon desire pushed his tongue into her willing lips.
His hands fled across her body. It felt like a dream. He shut his eyes tight. He grabbed her, gently raking his fingers through her soft cerulean hair. He allowed himself to grind against her, Sona's thick softness inviting him to get lost in its curves. He wanted to rip off her dress. He wanted to rip her apart.
Ezreal let a groan slide between Sona's teeth, her soft hand making him suddenly aware of how hard he was. His mouth left hers, leaving her kisses to the air. He trailed down her jawline, hungry nips at her soft skin leading down her neck. He grabbed her by the neck softly, grazing on the soft skin, inhaling her soft scent. He fought the urge to lick her as he continued to her bare shoulders, letting loose a bite as Sona's hand teased at the bulge beneath his trousers.
Lust reduced the experience to a drunken blur of heat and soft skin. Ezreal couldn't get enough of smelling her, couldn't get enough of the tart taste of her skin.
Sona pushed him off her, allowing him a full view of her composure. She was breathing as hard as he was. She looked him with a grin that almost made him blow his load right then and there. He let her lead him, let her do whatever she pleased. He found himself in Sona's position as she straddled him, her soft fingers stroking his cheek before they gripped the back of his head whilst her mouth captured his again.
Kissing Sona was probably the best thing he had felt in months.
The excitement of being able to squeeze the thick curves of her waist, the dirty glee of her breasts pushing against his collarbone, the excruciating tension in his pants as she grinded against him.
Nothing else mattered.
Ezreal let himself go to it all, never daring to open his eyes. Sona was all he wanted. She was all that mattered.
He loved the small airy exhales for her nostrils, her substitute for moans or squeals of surprise. Another one brushed against his cheek as he grasped the soft flesh of her thigh through the opening of her dress. Gods, she was so soft and thick. He could take her on this couch with no remorse.
More airy exhales as he began to rub up and down that leg, his right hand's fingertips tingling with excitement. Up and down his hand reveled, occasionally letting loose a squeeze. Sona's hair veiled them as their lips continued their dance. Her kisses weren't as aggressive as before. They were softer, and teasing, leading Ezreal to work for the satisfaction he needed.
Suddenly…those teasing kisses began to slow. Ezreal didn't notice. His hand kept stroking that bare leg, his other hand firmly gripping her waist.
He decided to become a little more forward, sliding his hand upwards, grabbing the lace of her panties.
Then, the slowing kisses stopped completely.
Sona separated from his mouth.
So, she was ready too? Ezreal didn't take her for the straight-to-business type. The grapple at her underwear was just a tease. With his eyes still closed he pulled the panties down her legs…before her hand stopped him.
At this point, Ezreal opened his eyes.
Sona looked back at him with her own wide agape. She looked almost…scared. He could swear he saw her lip quivering, doe-eyed gaze looking down at him as if she had just stabbed him. Fear or otherwise, it didn't take long before Ezreal recognized that darkness smeared on her visage: guilt.
She was gripping the hand she had pried off her leg.
One look and Ezreal's face turned white.
The promise band around his ring finger. He could visualize it, brushing its cold steel against the warmth of Sona's thigh, easing her into reality with every stroke. No wonder her kisses had grown slower…more hesitant.
It was all he needed to see.
He looked back at his friend, returning her sentiment. In a matter of moments the lust and the clouds veiling their judgment dissipated.
A blush filled Sona's cheeks as she grew bashful. She quickly climbed off of him.
The band outside had since left the stage, leaving Swain to freely fill the room with his musings on the piano.
"I-I'm so sorry I just, I didn't know-"
Sona vigorously shook her head as she sat beside him, eyes looking straight ahead.
He couldn't apologize, he couldn't say anything. There was nothing to be said. They were both at fault.
He could feel tears spring into his eyes. The guilt welling up in the back of his throat. The image of Ahri and her smile, the way she caressed him awake every morning, the gleeful giggle of surprise whenever he surprised her from behind during dinner…
Ezreal cradled his head in his hands, feeling the ring press against his forehead, judging him.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" he whispered. Apologies for more than one person.
He heard Sona's clutch bag leave the sofa.
He heard the click of the door as she opened it. There was a long pause and he felt her gazing at the back of his neck.
With that, the lounge's door clicked shut, leaving him alone.
Yo. So two articles for discussion:
1. This story is going through a rehaul. It was originally just a smutty love story between Ezreal and Ahri...but I want to delve deeper into Ezreal's character. Specifically, I want to tear it apart. So things will be quite different from here on out. Expect some twisted shit. But as always, expect some hot shit.
2. I have some big news.
So. I've always wanted to do commissions. But I didn't want to do it the old-fashioned way. So I came up with something called The Black Penguin. It's a place where me and a lot of other great smut writers (trust me, I handpicked them myself) have gathered together to write smut for you.
So if you've ever wanted to have me or other great smut writers like IcarusAurora, Secretpie, pudii, and many others write smut for you personally, then head on over. We've got some good rates and you can make us write
Hell, you can even pay me to write the next chapter to this story or any of my other stories.
I have the link to the Black Penguin on my profile, so have at it.
Until next time, I expect some commissions and feedback. See you soon.
Excelsior!
