#And now I need to pull back again because I just want to push and push and push in different ways when it’s too much

[luvyeni]

jeongin finally giving in after all your oblivious teasing

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 아이엔 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. oral ( f ). unprotected sex. word count. 0.8k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ my smau will definitely be a ayen one i miss him.

if it wasn’t for the fact that this has happened almost every day for the last year you two have been living together jeongin could’ve sworn you were doing this on purpose — riling him up just to leave him high and dry each and every time.

but you didn’t know it , you didn’t know that when you’d squeeze his thigh when you’re randomly talking about something that excited you, he had to think about anything else to keep him from getting hard. or when you’d walk around the house in an oversized shirt and shorts so short they might as well be panties while you cleaned or lounged around.

he constantly had a hard on when you were around ; and you didn’t even notice , and it was eating him up inside. “innie?”

he was brought back hearing your voice. “are you listening?” no he wasn’t , his eyes were current bulged out of his head because you were standing there in a towel. “i said the water is cold , you need to cool it on the 2 hour showers.” you pouted , the water dripping down your face. “i could only shower for 15 minutes that’s not even enough time fo…” it was like your voice was fading away , he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “you aren’t even listening.”

before his brain could send him a warning ; his feet were moving , and moving near towards you. “jeongin.” his hand coming to your face , you gasped out. “please shut up.” before you could even scold him his lips were on yours , you took a step back , but he didn’t let you pull away , he only pulled away when he began to get light headed due to lack of oxygen. “fuck i need to do that again.”

he could barely keep it together as he basically dragged you back to your room. “je-jeongin slow down , what’s gotten into you?” it’s not like you didn’t like it , you were just confused. “you , you’ve gotten into me , you don’t even know.” he pushed you down on the bed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

he was bent down on his knees in front of you , his mouth kissing in between your thighs. “innie.” you sighed , moaning as you felt his breathing on your cunt. “fuck you smell so good.” he kissed your mound , licking your folds. “oh fuck innie.” your hands tangling up in his hair as he ate your cunt like a starving man , finally getting a taste of you.

“so good.” your legs hanging off his back ; your taste was addicting , it was even better than he envisioned , he groaned , his cock becoming unbearably hard. “fuck innie , im gonna cum.” you tugged at his roots to try and pull him away from your cunt , but he held your thighs tightly , he did not want to let you go. “fu-fuck! im cumming !” you shouted as you came , your juices dripping on your tongue. “i-innie.”

he finally pulled away, the towel now laying on the bed leaving you bare. “fuck if i didn’t need to feel you on my cock , i could spent the rest of the day in between your legs.” he slowly made his way up to you , undoing the string to his sweats. “you taste so good.” your face was flushed watching him pull his cock out , it was big , and veiny with a precum dripping from his red tip. “so-so big.” he cursed , pressing his cock against your hole. “but you can take it right?”

he didn’t even wait for you to answer , pushing his cock inside , watching your mouth drop open. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he pulled out , pushing back inside. “so fucking warm.” folding your body in half , legs pressed against your chest as he began to pound into you. “fuck just like i dreamt of.” he grunted. “re-really?” you stuttered.

“fu-fuck baby yes , but you have been so inside the pretty little head -shit- you haven’t even noticed how bad i wanted to fuck you.” he hit that spot inside you , your fingers raking down his back , he hissed. “jeongin im gonna cum.” you cried out , the knot in your stomach tightening. “fu-fuck me too.” he groaned. “where do you want it?”

“inside.” he had to stop for a second to keep from cumming that second. “sh-shit i almost came.” he moaned. “you want me to cum inside you?” you nodded. “ye-yes please.” he sped up his movements. “fu-fuck im gonna cum , want you to cum on my cock.” both of you moaning out. “fuck cum , cum on my cock.”

you let out a breathy moan , mouth dropping over as you came. “of fuck , im fuck-fucking cumming, nmph!” he cursed as he came inside you , you whimpered as he rode out your orgasms. “fuck im still hard.” he said breathlessly. “i need more of you.” he started to move again , slowly dragging his cock in and out of you. “fuck i need to make you cum more.”

“i need to fuck you until you only remember my cock.”

©️LUVYENI

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

hold me close

IN WHICH jake comes back from tour missing you so much, he doesn’t want to waste a single second to even take off your clothes

PAIRING ⟡ idol!jake x gf!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ idol au

WARNINGS ⟡ dry humping (that’s literally it) + cumming in pants

WORD COUNT ⨯ 0.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . i’m an avid pathetic!jake enjoyer

ENHYPEN going on tour is both an exciting, new and prideful experience and the thing you dread the most. You weren’t able to accompany them as you’d hoped because of school, which meant almost two months without Jake by your side.

It was hard on him, too. Especially filled with the adrenaline from the concert, Jake wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and spend whatever energy he had left fucking you into the mattress. Then, he’d prepare for the concert the following day, rinse and repeat. Without you, however, he was doomed to weakly jerk off to whatever sexy photos you sent him every now and again, or the few videos he took with you.

Finally, he has you to himself again.

“I missed you so much,” he huffs into your ear.

Jake’s voice tickles your skin, causing you to stutter in your movements. He groans.

Right as he got off the plane not more than an hour ago, he was texting you about how much he missed your touch. He told you he needed you then and there, even sent a picture of his hand on his growing erection in the back of the company van.

Now, you find yourself grinding against him, still wearing the flimsy skirt you wore to campus and he in his loose-fitted jeans, which fold perfectly into your core.

His nails dig crescents into your skin where he lifts a bit of your shirt for a better grip. The pain hurts so good.

Jake pushes you back and pulls you forward in a rhythmic pattern to get you both where you want to go. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he whispers, a pleasured smirk forming on his face as he shuts his eyes tightly.

His hips grind up into yours, bulge protruding where you need it most. As much as you want to rip the material off of him, you’re too desperate to get off with him to stop now.

You roll forward and he rolls up. “Fuck,” you sigh pleasurably. Your head naturally falls into the crook of his neck.

Jake takes this as an inviting opportunity to suck hickeys into the skin of yours. “Haven’t seen you in so long—” He kisses the skin he just bruised. “—I have to make sure everyone knows you're taken.”

You giggle at his words and his lips trickling down your neck, but it soon morphs into a whine as you feel your core growing warm.

Picking up your pace, you roll your hips into Jake’s crotch. Your cunt runs against his bulge at every angle and it feels so good.

“‘Gonna cum?” Jake pants from below.

Lost in the pleasure, you can’t bring yourself to answer him with words. You whimper against his skin, lifting your head to crash your lips onto his. He pulls your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it and moaning like it tastes like candy. To him, it is.

Jake bucks his hips and suddenly it all comes rushing out of you. You let out a pornagraphic moan while doubling over him, feeling a wet patch forming in your panties. Beneath you, Jake has his own stain on his pants, but he doesn't seem to mind as he drops his head back while catching his breath through quiet shuttered moans.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He’s pulling you in, laying your head onto his shoulder, but keeping your legs draped over his. You feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand on his chest. “Sorry…”

You tilt your head up. “What for?”

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly.”

“What—you wanted to bring me flowers, too? Before fucking me into next week?”

He laughs.

“I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You attempt to get up, but your shaking legs bring you back down into his arms. “Later.”

[grimesbunny]

earn your spot

rick grimes

cw mean rick (?) face fcking. dirty talk / dumbification

summary: you get turned on by rick scolding you and make it up to him with mindblowing sloppy. i hate writing bjs #menshouldneverfeelpleasure but it’s rick. sooo like.

you always feared for the day you’d be on the receiving end of rick’s rage, much less his disappointment. but you should’ve realized you were setting yourself up by being on your best behavior since the group rescued you. gunning for the loyalest soldier category set expectations a smidge too high, made your mistake seem all the more dire. you can’t remember what exactly you did — veering off of rick’s plan slightly on your last run in with walkers because you assumed your role couldn’t be that important — but you jeopardized the safety of the group and that’s all that matters. it’s hard to recall all the tiny details when you have a man scolding you about the principle.

it’s not like you haven’t seen him angry before, quite the opposite— you’ve witnessed a height of his rage once and it’s stuck with you ever since. rick’s the type of person you don’t want to upset, and not just because you’re intimidated, but because he has a sense of honor about him that makes you admire him. makes you want to please him and be labeled good in his book.

you knew you were fucked after being shooed away by him like an insistent fly while on the run. exiled to wait in the car on “lookout.” the ride back to the prison is eerily silent, and your muscles ache with how tense they are by the time he finally unloads. he has the decency to pull you to the side, away from watchful eyes, but his voice carries.

it’s a chastising. there’s no other word for it. the tears that sting the corners of your eyes are to be expected— you could never handle being reprimanded very well— it’s the heat gathering in your core that comes as a shock. rick’s dirty and disheveled from the run, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead while his eyes bore into yours. seemingly looking past your pout and glistening stare.

“are you questioning my judgment, kid?”

you can’t tell what’s meant to be rhetorical or not at this point, but you shake your head anyway, a nervous laugh pushing from your wobbly lips. “of- of course not.”

“then help me understand.” he says, almost defeatedly. he’s got you caged in at this point, unconsciously backing you further into the grimey prison wall. “i laid out the instructions clear and simple for you, did i not?”

with you being new, and rick being pulled in three different directions every five seconds, it’s not often that you have his full attention like you do now. never for this long, especially. it’s pathetic, but you don’t know what to do with it. you shrink in on yourself, thighs clenching together while your face grows warmer and warmer.

“i thought you were smarter than this. if you can’t handle a run, i think we need to rethink your role here.”

“no!” you exclaim. flashbacks to being all alone out there for so long ring through your mind. “i can handle it, rick. i’m sorry, i fucked up, i wasn’t thinking.”

“i don’t think you fully grasp that when we’re out there— it’s life and death. there’s no room for you to turn your brain off.” he lightly taps the side of your head for emphasis, and you involuntarily lean into the contact. it makes his eyes go curious, brows caving in just slightly. “it’s us or them. i can’t have another threat— another liability out there. or you may as well join ‘em.”

his words pierce you in the stomach like a knife. the whirlwind of conflicting emotions is making your head spin, and you reach for his arm for stability without thinking. “rick… i understand. i promise you, i do. i won’t disobey you again.”

his gaze slowly drops and lands on the contact in what feels like several heavy seconds. you’re frozen in place, unsure of whether to let go or not. the muscle of his arm relaxes when he meets your eyes again.

“i’m… disappointed. i’m trying to do right by you, but i need you to show me that you want to be here.” the way his voice has dropped an octave is distracting, and you feel the words as much as you hear them. feel them as a tingle up your spine, a pulsing that blossoms in between your thighs.

if you allowed yourself, you might wonder if he was talking about the run anymore.

“i do.” you nod. feeling emboldened, you squeeze his arm, eyes widening up at him intently. “how can i prove it to you?”

his eyes darken, and a smug sense of pride swells in you at the way his mouth drops open but no words come out. his eyes do a quick sweep of the area the two of you are in. empty cell block. secluded. alone.

“what are you asking for?” he tilts his head, almost challenging. “do you even know yourself?”

a lapse of confidence suddenly makes you hesitate. before you go to apologize and maybe run out of the room, rick speaks again.

“yeah, you know good and well, don’t you?” he whispers it like a thought between the two of you. “christ, i’m tryin’ to talk some sense into you and you’re lookin’ at me like…” he trails off, eyes dipping down to your lips. and then he laughs, turns his face and shakes his head.

“like— like what?” you feign innocence. pulling as he’s pushing.

he takes a step closer you didn’t know was possible, and you can feel the ghost of his weight against yours.

he seems to consider his next words. “do you know how distracting it is to have to watch you blink at me like that whenever i speak, like i’m some kind’a god? watch you fein for my attention, knowing i’d be the bad guy if i gave it to you how i want to?”

you’re too stunned to speak. from where you stand, any sudden movements and he might back away, might talk himself out of whatever it is that the two of you are building up to.

“you like it, don’t you? teasing me until i snap. i bet…” he sucks in a breath, and you hold yours in anticipation. the hand of the arm you’re holding tentatively comes to rest on your hip. “if i were to reach my hand down you’d be soaked through these tiny shorts.”

you gulp down all the saliva that has collected in your throat. your heart is thumping so hard you feel like he can hear it as you take it upon yourself. guiding his hand where you want it the most, where you’ve dreamt of it several times. his fingers slide against your clothed lips, and sure enough, you can feel the dampness accumulating.

“fuck.” he breathes out. his resolve seemed to crumble, head dipping as his free hand goes to pin you against the wall. “get this wet whenever i talk to you? hm?”

you nod quickly. might as well not hold anything back, now that you’re finally in the position you’ve been craving since you laid eyes on him.

“cmon, what’s got you all quiet now, honey? i thought you could handle it?” his fingers have gone greedy, attempting to circle your clit through your clothing. the friction feels like heaven, and you can’t stop yourself from bucking into his hand. “i thought you wanted to prove it to me?”

“fuck, yeah. i want to.” all you can seem to do is nod, desperate with it. your eyes dart to the tent in his jeans. it looks so hefty, thick and bulging. you’ve never wanted to see anything more in your life. “i want to make it up to you, rick. earn… earn back my spot here. just tell me what to do.”

“yeah?” he dips his head lower to force eye contact with you again. you take your hand and gingerly glide your fingers along the outline of him pressed against his jeans, bottom lip catching between your teeth. he doesn’t move, keen on letting you feel for yourself. “well… i‘m not sure if you can take it.”

the faux sympathy in his voice almost makes you whimper. “i can, i promise. please.”

he reached down to undo his gun holster and it’s all you need to hear to drop to your knees, forcing back a wince at the impact from the cold floor. he leaves it to you to unzip his pants.

“look at me.” he orders, the authority in his tone gives you no choice but to oblige instantly. he’s larger than life above you, and somehow a much hotter view from below. it spurs you on, makes you more eager to free his cock from its confines.

you pull his pants down just enough to watch it spring out. nothing could’ve prepared you for it; long and thick and meaty, already leaking from the swollen, red tip. the sight makes you audibly whine, much to rick’s amusement.

“never seen a cock before, sweetheart?”

“never this big.” you admit, squirming to get some friction on your cunt. that draws a noise out of him, and you watch his cock twitch with it.

you grasp it hesitantly, looking up at him to check for his reaction. it’s been a long time since you’ve done any of this, and it’s not like you had much experience in the first place. you don’t want to disappoint him.

under the weight of his gaze, you reach out to place a kiss to his tip, letting his precum ooze onto your lips. his hips buck forward slightly into your mouth.

“christ, aren’t you pretty like this?” he sighs.

you feel yourself blush, kitten licking his tip to hide your smile as you gaze up at him. his eyes are lidded, his patience showing on his face. finally, you wrap your lips around his spongy head, suckling gently.

“alright, none of that. you don’t get to tease anymore.” he soothes your hair into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, using it as leverage to begin moving your head at the pace he wants. he stuffs your throat all too quickly, your gags and moans muffled by the girth of him filling your mouth. it’s too much and not enough at once, and for the second time today you feel yourself about to cry. “just fuckin’ take it.”

it’s messy and suffocating, but you can’t think of any place you’d rather be than on your knees for him, letting him use your mouth to get off.

“your throat — feels so perfect, baby. about time i put this pretty mouth to good use, huh?” he chuckles breathlessly. you grasp his strong thighs for purchase, willing him to slow down. “i should’ve known this is what it would take to get you to listen. you just needed your fill, didn’t you?”

you nod as best as you can, eyes wide up at him. merciful, he pulls you off to let you breathe, watching a line of spit follow your lips. his dick is covered in it, glistening and raw. you splutter, and somewhere down the line the tears you felt had started flowing freely down your cheeks.

“rick,” your voice cracks pitifully. “it hurts.”

“i know, but you can take it, remember? you’re a big girl.” he places a hand sweetly on your jaw, rubbing his tip against your spit-soaked lips. “gotta be good at something if you want to stay here.”

the throbbing of your knees is overpowered by the ache in your cunt. you can’t believe the predicament you’ve found yourself in.

“you don’t have to think anymore, sweetheart. not good at that today anyway, hm? just relax your jaw and let me in.” he coaxes, pushing past your lips. you do as he says, letting your jaw go lax and his lips stretch into a mean grin. “there you go.”

all it takes is a few more thrusts of his hips. the sight of you with tears streaming down your face, squirming all over your heel for friction on your clit. the feeling of your warm throat constricting around him. he pulls out abruptly, and you watch intently as he rapidly fists his cock.

“here it comes, baby.”

he’s aiming for your face, but you stick your tongue out, desperate to take catch some of his seed on your tongue. his orgasm is ripped out of him, shooting off thick ropes that never seem to end.

you swallow it happily, yet somehow your smile is still bashful afterward.

he’s panting, shaking his head. “what am i going to do with you?”

[zoyarecs]

i could say i’m surprised, but at this point i’m really not because you’re so damn good at everything you write, and i stand by that. i mean, all your works are amazing, but this one is definitely in my top 3, no doubt. maybe i’m a little biased because i fucking love enzo, but either way, the talent is all there (your brain duh)🧏🏻‍♀️

He couldn't decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

boy is sweating, i just know it (AS HE SHOULD)

To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together-an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

this little smug bastard knowing his girl like the back of his hand, it’s canon, everyone knows it hehe, and i love that you included it here 🌝

you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. "Oh, don't blame the wine. Lorenzo's just got a lot on his mind tonight."

i looooove the reader’s personality, she knows how to handle Lorenzo and i’m all for it. she’s so sassy lmao, it’s hilarious 😭 she needs to slap him

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. "Dessert already? But the night's just getting started, isn't it?" "Don't worry, love," you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually." subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word.

hi soooo, i need a reader x reader story like RIGHT NOW, she’s so fucking hot helleoooolosisjshstfvhaysgsg (lorenzo is 💦💦 in his pants)

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Everyone had a good time. What's there to complain about?" Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. "You know exactly what."

he’s so done but as i said ‘prove do seu veneno’ ✋🏻✊🏻

He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, then. Show me." Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce.

nothing—JUST THIS LEONA MARIA WHEN I CAT H YOUEJAYWYWHHEHWGWHWB

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence.

the way i imagine this in my head… i’m so 🫠🫠🫠🫠 because he’s the type of guy who does stuff like this without any warning

"You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?"

i would tease him on purpose after this

"Begging already?" "Patience, darling," "I wonder if you've been like this all night, haven't you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you."

cocky smug bastard fuck me and yes you’re right enzo 🤭🤭🤭

"You like that, don't you?" he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. "Like it when I treat you like a little slut."

PUT THIS ON MY GRAVE, LEONA THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself. You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

i love that he’s treating us like a princess after ruining us, that’s so sweet of him. i want to slap him so bad

LEONA, this was incredible. the dialogues, the tension, the group moments—everything was spot on and made me feel so involved in the narrative. 😣😣😣😣 your works always make me feel like i’m actually in it with them, and i love that because you’re so fucking talented, omfg, don’t even get me started. and the smut?! GIRL, IT WAS SO HOT. i’m obsessed with it, with everything you do, actually!!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

FICMAS #9— WRAPPED IN RED / lorenzo berkshire

december 27th

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

summary: surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors…

warnings: smut mdni, unprotected piv, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship

words: 3.8k

a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of MIA the past two days bbs, i will get to my inbox soon <3 (forgot to do the taglist when i first posted this so i added it now!)

navigation ficmas masterlist

Lorenzo was always calm, always collected. He moved through life with the kind of ease that made everyone else envy him—a permanent smirk tugging at his lips, a lazy confidence in every stride. But tonight? Tonight, that composure was cracked, splintering with every passing second.

And it was your fault.

Because even while his friends laughed, argued, and passed bottles of Firewhisky around the table, Lorenzo didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the clink of glasses or the familiar banter filling the room. No, the only thing he saw was an X-ray version of you, his mind peeling back the thick-knit sweater and denim jeans you wore to reveal the little red-laced secret you’d shown him before everyone arrived.

 He couldn’t decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

You sat beside him, close enough that your knee occasionally bumped his under the table. To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together—an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better. 

And he was trying to behave—Merlin, he was trying. But every subtle movement of yours, every time you reached for your glass of wine or leaned forward to laugh at one of Theo’s jokes, he felt the blood rush to his head and lower. You were a menace.

“You good, mate?” Blaise’s voice jolted him back to the moment. 

Lorenzo blinked, quickly plastering on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blaise shrugged, tipping his glass toward Lorenzo. “You just seem a little... distracted. Too much wine already?”

Before Lorenzo could answer, you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. “Oh, don’t blame the wine. Lorenzo’s just got a lot on his mind tonight.”

He glanced at you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You gave him an innocent smile, one that made his chest tighten and his fists clench under the table. 

Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bet it’s work. You always get that look when you’re thinking about work.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo muttered, forcing himself to look away from you. “Work.”

“Lighten up, Berkshire.” Pansy reached for the bottle to refill her glass. “It’s Christmas. No one wants to hear about whatever boring Ministry nonsense you’ve got going on.”

“It’s not boring,” Theo cut in, gesturing with his fork. “Enzo probably has a very important case. You know, like illegal broomstick modifications or... I don’t know, someone stealing cauldrons.”

The table burst into laughter, and even Lorenzo managed a weak chuckle. But his thoughts weren’t on the conversation. They were on you—on the way you crossed your legs, the way you kept tugging at your sweater like you were hiding something beneath. 

He barely registered when Mattheo passed him the tray of roast potatoes, only grabbing it when Theo nudged his shoulder. “You’re really out of it, mate.”

“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said quickly, setting the tray down with a bit more force than necessary. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty plates around the table. “Should we bring out dessert?”

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “Dessert already? But the night’s just getting started, isn’t it?” 

If you weren’t sitting in a room full of people, Lorenzo would’ve kissed that smirk off your face—or done something else entirely. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaning back in his chair and gripping his glass like it might anchor him.  

“Don’t worry, love,” you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually.” 

Lorenzo groaned under his breath, earning a curious glance from Draco. This was going to be a long night.

The evening dragged on in fits and starts, each laugh and clink of glasses feeling like a small eternity. Lorenzo kept himself occupied pouring drinks, clearing plates, and chiming in on conversations when necessary, but his attention was always split. The rest of the group was far too absorbed in their own stories to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface—except for you. 

You leaned into every teasing word, every subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word. By the time Theo and Blaise started debating the best Quidditch team of the decade, Lorenzo was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep his composure.

“Alright,” Pansy announced at last, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “I think that’s my cue to head out before Blaise starts drafting us for his imaginary team.”

“Imaginary?” Blaise shot back. “I could make the Cannons win if I had half a chance.”

Draco rolled his eyes, standing to help Pansy with her coat. “If Blaise keeps this up, we’ll all be here until morning.”

A flurry of goodbyes followed, with everyone exchanging hugs and well-wishes. You played the perfect hostess, ushering them out with a warm smile while Lorenzo stood stiffly at the door, offering little more than clipped nods. He was polite enough to keep up appearances, but you could see the strain in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt deafening.

You turned, leaning casually against the door as you looked at him. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Lorenzo said nothing at first, his eyes scanning your face before dropping lower—to the hem of your sweater, which you had just barely started to tug up before letting it fall again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, more dangerous.

“Not bad?” His voice was low, quiet in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You think that was not bad?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Everyone had a good time. What’s there to complain about?”

Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. “You know exactly what.”

You laughed softly, pushing off the door and sauntering past him toward the living room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” He was behind you in an instant, his hand closing gently but firmly around your wrist. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, and you turned to face him, your heart pounding. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been driving me mad all night, love. And now you want to play coy?”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a sly smile. “I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”

Lorenzo’s grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice. “Handle it? Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

Before you could respond, he released your wrist and stepped back, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin flush. He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. “Go on, then. Show me.”

You hesitated for a moment, letting the tension stretch just long enough to tease him. The air between you felt thick, thick with something that wasn’t just anticipation, but need. Lorenzo was standing so still, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze trained on you like you were the only thing in the world. 

And you, of course, were taking your sweet time. You took a step forward, brushing your fingertips across the collar of his shirt. “What’s the matter, Enzo? You look a little... tense.”

He didn’t respond at first. His hands flexed at his sides, a muscle in his neck tensing as he tried—unsuccessfully—to hold onto whatever sliver of control he had left. But you could feel it, the way the air between you had shifted, crackling with something dangerous. 

Then, before you could blink, he was there—his large hands gripping your waist with bruising force, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder without a word.

You gasped, more out of surprise than anything, but the playful smirk you wore didn’t falter. “Enzo! What—”

But he didn’t care to hear it. His steps were long and measured as he marched toward your bedroom, every move deliberate, as if he was on a mission. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made your stomach flutter with nervous excitement. 

Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce. The sound of your heart thudded in your chest, and for a split second, everything was quiet. 

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were a puzzle he had to figure out. He dragged his gaze up and down your body, lingering on the way your sweater stretched across your chest, the hint of red lace peeking out from beneath it. His eyes darkened, almost black with hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” His voice was rough, ragged, and you could feel it, feel the restraint slipping away with every passing second.

You grinned, leaning back against the pillows like you didn’t have a care in the world. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you teased, running your hand down your side, accentuating the way the fabric of your jeans hugged your hips. 

Lorenzo’s breath hitched. “You think it’s funny?” he growled. He didn’t wait for your response. He was done with your teasing, done with pretending to be patient. He reached down, yanking your sweater off over your head in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air. His hands were all over you now, rough and demanding, tracing the delicate lines of your body like he couldn’t get enough.

There, beneath it all, was the lingerie. Red lace that hugged your curves, teasing him even more than you had with your coy little glances and touches all night. The delicate lace barely covered your chest, and he could see it—see the way your nipples peeked through, hard and waiting for him. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw that glint of mischief in them.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, running his hand up your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your jeans under his fingertips. “You think you can just walk around in front of me like this and not expect me to lose my mind?”

You tilted your head, your voice sweet yet laced with defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited everyone over then.” 

Lorenzo growled, shaking his head before he leaned over you, his lips trailing along your neck, tasting your skin with each breath. 

“You’re lucky I don’t tear this off right now,” he muttered against your skin. “But I’m going to enjoy this, I’m going to take my time, because you deserve every second of this.”

He traced the edge of your lingerie with his fingers, his touch so slow and deliberate it made your breath catch in your throat. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you—not yet. His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the delicate swell of your chest where the lace barely contained your breasts.

You moaned softly, and it was enough. Lorenzo could feel the restraint inside of him snap.

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence. You gasped, arching into his touch as he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the way he sucked and nipped at you made your body tremble, your hands gripping his hair as you urged him on. 

He pulled away, his eyes flashing with something dark, something primal. “You wanted to tease me? Now you get to feel what it’s like when I can’t keep my hands off you.”

The next moments were a blur of frantic movement, his hands and lips devouring you, tearing at your clothes with such urgency you could barely keep up. But you didn’t mind. You wanted this, needed it, wanted to feel him lose himself in you. 

And soon, it wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. It was about claiming, about showing just how badly you had driven him to the edge.

He tugged your jeans down your legs with little care for the slow buildup he’d promised—he was done with that. You weren’t in the mood for waiting either. The moment your legs were bare, his hands were back, grazing over your skin like he couldn’t get enough. 

You let out a soft whimper when he knelt between your legs, eyes dark and focused on the lingerie that had driven him mad all night. The red lace, so simple, so soft, now felt like a taunt—a promise of what he hadn’t had, what he’d been denied for too long. He ran his hands along the edges of the fabric, just skimming the sides, before tugging it down slowly, exposing you to him fully.

Your breath hitched when the cool air hit your skin, and Lorenzo wasted no time, pressing his lips to your inner thighs, his breath warm and heavy against you. His hands were still on your tits, gripping and squeezing as he kissed and nipped his way closer, the anticipation making your body tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before he finally pulled back to look at you fully. His eyes flickered between the lace remnants at your waist and your flushed face, a smile tugging at his lips, though it was filled with nothing but hunger. “You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?”

You couldn’t help the teasing grin that crossed your face. “Maybe I can.”

His gaze turned intense. "We'll see about that." He stood up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. The movement was fluid, almost predatory, and the way he reached for his trousers sent a thrill straight through you. The urgency in his actions was both exciting and nerve-wracking—he wasn’t just acting on desire, he was acting on something else too. Something deeper, something urgent.

Before you could even react, Lorenzo was back over you, pressing you into the bed with his body, pinning your arms above your head. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, hot and demanding. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the pressure of him, hard and insistent, against your stomach. His body was tense, his every movement purposeful as he ground against you, unable to hold back.

You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, for something, anything. "Enzo..." you whispered, pulling your hands free to thread them through his hair, tugging him closer. "Please."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Begging already?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. But there was something in his eyes—something softer that made your chest tighten. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin in a fleeting moment of tenderness before he returned to his more urgent touch.

You felt the heat between your legs intensify, an ache so deep it threatened to consume you, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore. "I want you, Enzo," you breathed, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Lorenzo’s smirk deepened, but there was a teasing, almost mocking quality to it as he looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. His voice was low, taunting, as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours softly before pulling away, his breath hot against your cheek. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your body again, barely skimming over the lace of your lingerie before he slid his hand between your legs. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of your panties, teasing just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily.

You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you didn’t get a chance to savor it. He moved faster, tugging at your panties just enough to expose you, fingers now teasing your sensitive skin, circling slowly, deliberately. 

“You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost in awe, as he dragged his fingers lower. The way he spoke sent another rush of heat through you. “I wonder if you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you.”

His fingers slid inside you without warning, and you gasped, your back arching against the bed as you dug your fingers into the sheets. Lorenzo’s thumb found your clit, circling it in a rhythm that sent your mind spinning. His pace was slow at first, just enough to drive you wild, but he wasn’t gentle. Not tonight.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he muttered, the words laced with both admiration and amusement. “Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to make you cum?”

You could only moan in response, your body reacting to his every touch, every movement. His fingers curved inside you, pressing against that spot that made your vision blur and your chest tighten. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.

“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr against your skin. “Wondering when I’d finally take what’s mine.”

You nodded, barely able to focus, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers increased their pace, the pressure in your core building higher, tighter, until you were on the edge of losing yourself.

But just as you felt yourself teetering, Lorenzo pulled his fingers away, leaving you breathless and aching. He lifted his head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched your body writhe beneath him, desperately trying to find some relief.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not tonight.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as he kissed you again, deep and forceful. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, the heat between you both palpable.

“Now,” he growled, “I’m going to make you feel it.”

With one swift movement, he thrust into you, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothing. The pleasure hit you instantly, a deep, overwhelming pressure that had you gasping for air. He didn’t hold back. His pace was brutal from the start, each thrust driving deeper, filling you completely. The way he moved, so forceful, so confident—it made everything inside you tighten.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, your hands scrambling to grab at his back, pulling him closer. “Enzo… Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for it.”

You swallowed hard, the words feeling like they were caught in your throat, but he was relentless. His thrusts were deep and unforgiving, each one hitting a new level of pleasure you hadn’t expected. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, slapping at your ass, as if marking you, claiming you. His lips were on your neck, biting, sucking, leaving bruises that only added to the fire burning inside you.

“Enzo…” you gasped again, unable to control the way your body moved against his. “Please, harder…”

He grinned against your skin, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

With a growl, he shifted his angle, pushing into you even deeper, his body slamming against yours with each thrust. You moaned louder, the sound filling the room as you felt the tension in your body intensify, the pressure building in ways you couldn’t control. His hand moved up to your chest, gripping at your breast through the lace, squeezing and pinching as he gave your nipple a sharp twist.

You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, making everything inside you tighten even more. He laughed darkly, his breath heavy in your ear as he slapped at your tits, the sting of the contact making you wince, but the pleasure only grew. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. “Like it when I treat you like a little slut.”

The sting of the slap made you gasp, your body trembling beneath him, but it was all part of the overwhelming pleasure. Your breath came in ragged bursts as he alternated between slapping and groping your tits, squeezing them harshly through the lace, pulling at your nipple again with a cruel twist.

“Enzo, please…” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your body aching with need. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Close?” he repeated, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slapped your tits again, the sound of his hand meeting your skin ringing in the air. “You want to come, sweetheart? You need to beg me for it.”

His thrusts grew more forceful, more erratic, as he continued to abuse your tits, slapping them with no mercy. The sting mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel yourself tightening again, your body responding to his every movement. You couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please, Enzo… I need you to let me come,” you gasped, your voice desperate. 

With one final, deep thrust, he gave you what you wanted, and you exploded in waves of pleasure, your body seizing beneath him as you cried out his name. Lorenzo’s thrusts didn’t stop; he followed you, his own release coming in a sharp, breathless groan. He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself.

You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

“I love you,” he whispered, his hands softening their grip on your chest. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you off that easy again.”

You smiled, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.”

Lorenzo chuckled darkly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

[elryuse]

Yandere Wonyoung x Male Reader

Wonyoung & y/n have been friends since childhood and promised to get married when they grow up..but since Wonyoung became an idol and got great success, she start to forget y/n and said rude things to y/n..at the same time, she's in a relationship with a male idol..y/n knows about it and feels very disappointed and slowly forgets Wonyoung

a few months later, Wonyoung compared between that male idol with y/n and felt that y/n was the best..after that, she start tracking y/n & willing to kill anyone who stood in her way.

The Price of a Broken Promise

Yandere Wonyoung X Male Reader

The rain poured heavily outside as Wonyoung sat alone in her luxurious apartment, staring blankly at the dim glow of her phone. News articles, tweets, and viral videos filled the screen, all focused on the same scandal: San, her boyfriend, caught cheating with another idol. The images of him smiling, holding someone else’s hand, sent a sharp pang through her chest.

The betrayal stung, but it wasn’t just San’s actions that haunted her tonight. As she curled up on the couch, her mind drifted back to a promise she had made long ago, to someone who had once meant everything to her.

“Y/n,” she whispered his name for the first time in years, the sound foreign yet painfully familiar.

She closed her eyes, letting the memories resurface. She saw his shy smile, the way his hand would always reach for hers as they walked home together. He had been her anchor, her unwavering support during the uncertain days of their childhood.

But she had let him go.

Her fame as an idol had taken over her life, pulling her further and further away from the boy who had once been her entire world. It wasn’t just time or distance that had severed their bond—it was her own selfishness.

“Wonyoung, don’t forget me, okay?” Y/n had said once, his voice soft but earnest.

“I could never forget you,” she had replied with a laugh, brushing off his concern. But she had forgotten him—forgotten their promise, forgotten his love.

And worse, she had pushed him away.

Her chest tightened as she remembered their last conversation, months before she debuted. He had called her late at night, worried about her.

“Wonyoung, are you okay? You haven’t replied to my texts,” he had said, his voice full of concern.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I’m just busy,” she had replied coldly.

“I just wanted to remind you I’m here for you—always.”

“I don’t need you,” she had snapped, her frustration boiling over. “Stop calling me.”

She could still hear the silence that followed, the hurt in his voice when he finally said, “Okay. I understand.”

That had been the last time she heard from him.

Now, years later, she realized the enormity of her mistake. Y/n had been the one constant in her life, the one person who had loved her unconditionally. And she had thrown him away for a fleeting romance with someone who didn’t even care enough to stay faithful.

The guilt hit her like a tidal wave. She grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she searched for his number.

Her heart sank when the call didn’t go through.

“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She tried again, but the same robotic message greeted her.

“Why did I let you go?” she sobbed, clutching the phone to her chest.

The days that followed were a blur. Wonyoung couldn’t focus on anything—rehearsals, photoshoots, interviews. Her manager noticed the change.

“Wonyoung, what’s going on with you?” he asked one afternoon, his tone sharp. “You’re distracted, and it’s starting to show.”

“I just need some time,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Time for what? You have responsibilities, a career—”

“I need to find someone,” she interrupted, her voice trembling.

Her manager stared at her, baffled. “What are you talking about? You don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t care!” she snapped, standing abruptly. “I’ve already lost the most important person in my life because of this career. I’m not losing him forever.”

“Wonyoung, be reasonable—”

“I’m done listening to reason,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m going to find Y/n.”

She spent weeks searching, reaching out to mutual friends, scouring social media, even looking through old emails in the hope of finding some trace of him. It was through one of those emails that she found an old message from him, dated two years ago.

Wonyoung,

I know you’re busy, and I know your life is different now. But I just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. If you ever need me, just call.

- Y/n

Her tears blurred the screen as she read his words. He had been there for her, even when she didn’t deserve it. And now he was gone.

Wonyoung’s search eventually led her to New York, where she had heard he had moved. She didn’t know what she would say if she found him. She didn’t even know if he would want to see her. But she had to try.

When she finally knocked on the door of a small apartment in the city, her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear the rain that drenched her.

The door opened, and there he was.

“Y/n,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stared at her in shock, his expression unreadable. “Wonyoung?”

Before she could stop herself, tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Y/n stepped back, his face hardening. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Why now?” he asked, his tone cold. “After all this time, why now?”

She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. “I was selfish. I hurt you, and I let you go. I let everything go, and I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone.”

“You don’t get to just walk back into my life,” he said, his voice sharp. “You don’t get to show up here and expect me to forgive you.”

“I know,” she said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please… just listen to me.”

Y/n clenched his fists, his emotions a whirlwind of anger, pain, and something else he couldn’t quite name. “Do you have any idea what you put me through? You made me feel like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.”

“You mattered,” she said desperately. “You mattered more than anything. I was just too blind to see it.”

He shook his head, turning away. “Why are you really here, Wonyoung? Is it guilt? Regret? What do you want from me?”

“I want you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I want to make things right. I want to keep the promise we made.”

Y/n froze, her words cutting through him like a knife. For so long, he had dreamed of hearing her say those words. But now that she had, it felt hollow.

“You don’t get to fix this with a few words,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Trust doesn’t work like that. Love doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know it’ll take time. But I’ll wait. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Y/n looked at her, searching her face for sincerity. For the first time, he saw it—the raw, unfiltered regret and love she had buried for so long.

But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight. And love, once broken, wasn’t so easily mended.

Wonyoung returned to Seoul after her meeting with Y/n, but she wasn’t the same. The regret and longing that had once been a dull ache had transformed into something far more potent. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face—his indifferent expression, his cold tone. The man she had once known as her Y/n was no longer hers.

And that thought drove her mad.

She sat in her darkened apartment, scrolling through her phone for the hundredth time. She had found his social media accounts, though they were sparse. His life seemed simple now—pictures of cityscapes, books, and an occasional group photo with friends. But it was the women in those group photos that caught her attention.

Who were they? Friends? Coworkers? Or something more?

Her grip on the phone tightened, her chest heaving with anger at the mere thought of Y/n laughing with another girl, confiding in someone else, smiling for someone else.

“No,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “He’s mine. He promised me. We promised each other.”

Her thoughts spiraled, and with each passing day, her obsession grew.

Wonyoung began to neglect her career. She would cancel rehearsals, ignore her manager’s calls, and avoid public appearances. Instead, she spent her days tracking Y/n’s life from afar. She learned the names of his coworkers, memorized his daily routines, and even discovered where he liked to eat lunch.

One day, she booked a flight back to New York, unable to stay away any longer.

Y/n was sitting in a café near his office, typing away on his laptop, when he felt a familiar presence. He looked up, and his heart sank.

“Wonyoung?”

She stood there, her eyes red-rimmed but filled with a desperate kind of determination.

“I needed to see you,” she said softly, taking a seat across from him without waiting for an invitation.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone laced with frustration.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking about you every day. I need to make this right.”

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wonyoung, we talked about this. I told you I needed time.”

“I know,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “But I can’t wait. I can’t let you go. You’re all I think about, Y/n. I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

Her words unsettled him. There was something unhinged in the way she spoke, in the way her hands clenched the edge of the table as if holding on for dear life.

“You can’t force this,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to move on.”

“Move on?” she repeated, her eyes widening. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Wonyoung, we were kids. Things are different now. You need to understand that.”

Her lips quivered, and tears welled up in her eyes. “No. No, you’re wrong. Things don’t have to be different. We can fix this. I can fix this.”

Y/n shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You’re not listening to me. This isn’t healthy—for either of us.”

She stared at him, her tears falling freely. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.

But he did mean it. He stood, grabbing his laptop and bag. “I think you should leave, Wonyoung. Please don’t come back.”

She watched him walk away, her heart shattering all over again. But as the pain consumed her, a darker resolve began to take shape.

Wonyoung sat in her hotel room that night, replaying their conversation over and over in her mind. Y/n was pushing her away, but she couldn’t let him. He was hers. He had always been hers.

Her thoughts turned to the women she had seen in his photos. She imagined them laughing with him, touching him, taking her place. The idea was unbearable.

“No one else can have him,” she muttered to herself, pacing the room.

Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more twisted than the last. If Y/n wouldn’t come back to her willingly, she would make him. And if anyone tried to stand in her way, they would regret it.

The next day, Wonyoung followed Y/n to his office. She waited outside, watching as he chatted with a female coworker—a petite woman with a kind smile. Wonyoung’s nails dug into her palms as jealousy consumed her.

When the woman walked to a nearby café for lunch, Wonyoung followed her. She cornered her in the alley behind the café, her expression cold and menacing.

“You need to stay away from him,” Wonyoung said, her voice low and threatening.

The woman looked confused. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n,” Wonyoung clarified, stepping closer. “He’s mine. Don’t think for a second that you can take him from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman stammered, backing away.

Wonyoung grabbed her wrist, her grip like iron. “Listen carefully,” she hissed. “If I see you near him again, you’ll regret it.”

The woman nodded quickly, her face pale with fear. Wonyoung released her and walked away, a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over her.

Y/n started noticing strange things in the following weeks. His coworkers seemed distant, avoiding him during breaks. One day, he found a bouquet of roses on his doorstep with a note that read, “You’re mine, forever.”

He knew who it was from.

Wonyoung’s obsession was spiraling out of control, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

He confronted her one evening, finding her waiting outside his apartment.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I just wanted to see you,” she said, her voice sweet but unsteady.

“This has to stop, Wonyoung. You’re scaring me.”

Her smile faltered. “I’m scaring you? Y/n, all I’ve done is love you. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.”

“This isn’t love,” he said firmly. “This is obsession.”

Her eyes darkened, and she stepped closer. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You don’t understand how much I need you, Y/n. I can’t live without you.”

“You need help,” he said, his voice softening. “Please, Wonyoung. Get help.”

Her expression twisted into one of rage and heartbreak. “I don’t need help. I need you. And I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He realized then just how far she was willing to go.

The obsession had consumed Wonyoung entirely. Every waking moment revolved around Y/n—what he was doing, where he was going, who he was with. She knew everything: the times he left for work, the café he liked to visit, the park where he occasionally went to clear his mind. Her network of eyes seemed endless. Every interaction, every smile he shared with someone else, ignited a storm of jealousy and fury within her.

But she couldn’t just watch anymore. She needed him. Completely.

It was a cold, quiet night when Wonyoung finally decided to act. She waited in the alley near Y/n’s apartment, cloaked in darkness. Her heart raced as she gripped the small vial in her hand, the contents a potent sedative she had procured after weeks of planning.

She knew his routine well enough to predict when he’d go to bed. The lights in his apartment flickered off around 11 PM. She waited another hour, ensuring he was deep in sleep before making her move.

Breaking into Y/n’s apartment was easier than she expected. She had studied his habits meticulously, noting how he often forgot to lock his balcony door. The quiet click of the door sliding open sent a chill down her spine, a mix of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through her.

She crept inside, her movements silent and calculated. His living room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Her gaze fell on a framed photo of him on the counter, and she couldn’t resist picking it up, her fingers trembling as she traced his face.

“You’ll understand soon,” she whispered to herself, setting the photo down.

Her footsteps were featherlight as she made her way to his bedroom. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open slowly, revealing Y/n’s sleeping form. He looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Wonyoung’s breath hitched. He was so close, so vulnerable.

She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she pulled out a syringe filled with the sedative. She had practiced this moment in her mind countless times, but the reality of it made her hands shake.

“I’m doing this for us,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

She knelt beside the bed, carefully brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Her heart pounded as she pressed the needle against his skin.

The prick of the needle woke Y/n. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he was disoriented.

“W-Wonyoung?” he mumbled, his voice groggy.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she cooed, her voice soft and soothing. “Just relax.”

His gaze sharpened as he realized what was happening. “What… what are you doing?” he said, his voice slurred as the sedative began to take effect.

He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish. Panic flashed in his eyes as he attempted to push her away.

“Wonyoung, stop,” he slurred, his strength fading.

“I can’t,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t let you leave me. I need you, Y/n. Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together.”

He struggled against her, his body weak but his mind racing. “This… isn’t love,” he managed to say, his words barely audible.

“It is,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “It’s the purest love there is. I’m doing this for us. For you.”

Y/n’s vision blurred as the drug fully took hold. His head lolled to the side, and his body went limp. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was Wonyoung’s tear-streaked face hovering over him, a mix of desperation and obsession etched into her features.

Wonyoung sat beside him for hours, her hand gently stroking his hair as he lay unconscious. She whispered promises to him, vowing to make him understand, to show him that they were destined to be together.

“You’ll see, Y/n,” she murmured. “You’ll realize that no one can love you the way I do. No one will ever understand you like I do.”

Her tears had dried, replaced by a chilling sense of determination. She had crossed a line, but she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered now—only him.

He was hers. And she would never let him go.

The news broke like wildfire across Korea: “Jang Wonyoung, the Diva of IVE, Has Gone Missing.”

Fans were devastated, flooding social media with hashtags, prayers, and theories. Was it an abduction? Had she run away to escape the pressures of fame? The police were tight-lipped, but the public was frantic. News outlets speculated endlessly, painting a picture of tragedy for one of Korea’s brightest stars.

But the truth was far darker.

Far from the glitz and glamour of Seoul, in a secluded countryside church, Wonyoung stood radiant in her wedding dress. The ornate lace fabric clung to her like a second skin, her beauty almost ethereal. Her lips curled into a serene smile, her dream finally realized.

Beside her stood Y/n, dressed in a formal suit, but his face betrayed no joy. His once-bright eyes were now dull, lifeless. The man who had fought so hard to escape his past had been subdued, stripped of his will. He moved robotically, his body weakened from the drugged haze that Wonyoung kept him in.

The church was empty, save for them. There were no friends, no family, no witnesses. It was exactly how Wonyoung wanted it. This moment wasn’t for the world—it was for them alone.

“You look so handsome, my love,” Wonyoung whispered, her voice tender as she adjusted his tie. “I’ve waited for this moment my entire life.”

Y/n’s lips twitched, but no words came. He had stopped resisting days ago. His silence didn’t bother Wonyoung anymore. She believed that, in time, he would come to accept her love again.

The officiant, a man Wonyoung had hired for discretion, cleared his throat and began the ceremony.

“Do you, Jang Wonyoung, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Wonyoung’s eyes gleamed with joy. “I do.”

“And do you, Y/n, take Jang Wonyoung to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Y/n remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. Wonyoung gently squeezed his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

“Answer him, my love,” she said sweetly, though her tone carried an edge.

“…I do,” Y/n muttered, his voice barely audible.

The officiant nodded. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Wonyoung turned to Y/n, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.

“This is our beginning,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a possessive kiss.

The couple settled into their new home, a sprawling estate surrounded by high walls and dense forests. It was isolated, designed to keep the outside world away—and Y/n inside.

Wonyoung walked through the grand hallways, her arms wrapped tightly around Y/n’s as if afraid he might slip away. She beamed with contentment, her dream fully realized.

“Isn’t this perfect?” she said, her voice full of glee. “Just you and me, forever.”

Y/n didn’t respond. He walked alongside her, his steps heavy, his gaze empty. The man he once was had been consumed by her relentless obsession.

But to Wonyoung, it didn’t matter.

She had won.

No one else would ever have him. No one else could touch him. Y/n was hers—completely, irrevocably, eternally.

As they sat by the fireplace that night, Wonyoung rested her head on his shoulder, her smile serene.

“This is love,” she said softly, her fingers lacing through his. “And I’ll never let you go again.”

The flames crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room. Outside, the world continued to mourn the disappearance of Jang Wonyoung. But inside, she was happier than she had ever been.

The end

[thehypnone]

How about Swissalps the first time Mountain barges into Swiss's dressing room on tour unannounced?

“Five to showtime!” somebody yells on the other side of the corridor, making Mountain swear under his breath. He’s a ghoul who likes order, which is an unfortunate quality considering the default chaos of his pack.

He’s got nearly everyone lined up and waiting for their que to go on stage—nearly, because the new multi ghoul is nowhere to be seen. Mountain could’ve known, but that does not alleviate his uneasiness in the slightest.

He rolls his eyes and storms down towards the dressing rooms, intending to quite literally drag Swiss out of his, no matter the state he’s in.

Mountain does make sure twice that he’s standing in front of the correct door before barging in unannounced. He lets out a sigh of disappointment at what he encounters inside.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asks. “We need to be on stage in less than five minutes.”

“I’m–uh,” Swiss grunts from his spot against the vanity, his hand flying up and down his cock at a pace that doesn’t look comfortable in the slightest, “stress jerking.”

“What?” Mountain scoffs.

“You know like–people obsessively bake when they’re stressed? Stress baking?”

“Yes, but–”

“Yeah and I am stress–fuck–jerking,” the multi ghoul explains, chuckling nervously. A quiet moan breaks its way out through his teeth before frustration creases his brows, “but I can’t get there.”

Mountain hums in acknowledgement, considering. He understands—he’s been where Swiss is. He looks properly distressed and he’s at a point where he can’t just tuck himself back into his pants and go on stage like nothing happened, so… “Do you need a hand?”

The multi ghoul freezes and the jaw that he’s been clenching drops.

“Yes, I want to help,” Mountain confirms casually, as if it’s nothing unusual. That’s because it is—not among a pack of ghouls—but Swiss is new and it shows. “We don’t have much time. Do you want me to help?”

“Y–you want…like, uhm–hand…huh?” he sputters, squeezing the base of his cock. He could not lie and say he doesn’t find Mountain painfully attractive and that the earth ghoul hasn’t been a character frequently appearing in his fantasies.

The multi ghoul nods; somewhat embarrassed, but desperate. Mountain crosses the room in two strides and wraps his hand around Swiss’ cock with not much preamble.

“Shit, that’s good,” he groans, gripping the edge of the counter he’s leaning against.

“Hm,” Mountain hums and gets to work; there really is no time to be wasted. He notes Swiss isn’t even fully hard, but he thinks he knows exactly what’s gonna do it. The earth ghoul rumbles low in his chest and rests his free hand on the wall, leaning in to crowd Swiss in.

And indeed, his cock kicks and fills out some more in Mountain’s grip.

He keeps staring down at him through the eye holes of his chrome mask, forcing the flustered multi ghoul to keep eye contact. Swiss does not want to admit how fast it gets him close.

“Oh, oh, FUUUCK,” the multi ghoul moans wantonly when Mountain pushes him over the edge. He throws his head back against the mirror of the vanity and spills all over the other’s hand, panting. “Lord have mercy…”

Mountain can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and heads towards the dressing room’s sink. “Now get dressed and let’s go do our jobs.”

“Thanks…” Swiss mumbles, shame washing over him again.

“Don’t mention it,” the earth ghoul shrugs, “but next time do tell me earlier if you’re stressed. I can do way better with more time.”

[ropebunnykant]

alright, we're on the third and FINAL part of me picking the boat scene to bits. you can find part one here and part two here

where we last left off, kant was going towards jumping in the water but he stopped and then we get this question from bison.

and the thing that gives me chills about this moment, aside from the absolute terror and pain on kant's face, is how softly bison asks this. almost like it's a genuine question. like he's offering help because kant is in a tough spot. but it's not a genuine question because he's trying to help - it's a threat. he's telling kant if he doesn't jump, bison will push him.

however, it's also quite an interesting question when you think about it in the context of love and their relationship. i talked a little bit about the setting choice in comparison to the fadel and style confrontation scene already, but lauren @sunsetsover once again had some wonderful additions which you can find here. basically, the difference in locations represents a lot of things, like openness and their intentions, but it also has to do with wants. bison wants love, has always wanted love, and he wants kant to prove to him that it wasn't all fake - even if right now he believes it was. so the question of if you want to jump or fall, it can also go back to how this all started for kant. he fell for bison, against every one of his intentions and instincts, he fell for him anyways. no matter how much he fought it, no matter how much he tried to stop it, he couldn't stop himself from falling for bison. but now, in a way, he's getting a chance to actually choose it. he's getting a chance to jump into love, to let himself die and prove to bison he did love him.

and he's going to, god he wants to do this one final thing for him, but he looks at the water and all he sees is himself, drowning as a child, crying out for his parents. and you can SEE IT in the last screenshot, you can see that kant is not THERE, he's not looking at the water in front of him, he's seeing the water from when he was a child and was drowning and it's HEARTBREAKING. you have to watch the scene yourself again and look at the sheer terror and heartbreak on his face in those few seconds because got it's just. it's so painful.

but bison doesn't know, or he doesn't care, and he wants kant to jump, so he yells at him, he shouts at him to do it. he's so angry and hurt and he needs to see kant do this.

so kant goes again, but he hesitates again and he looks at bison, like he's begging for him to change his mind. but it only takes a second for him to know, to realize he won't. that he will have to do this. that doesn't have any other choice. that this is the only way to prove himself and to try and make it up to bison, if he even can.

there's a moment of silent communication where bison nods his head towards the water to once again force kant to jump in.

so kant braces himself, pulls every ounce of courage he has left in him, and he climbs up, bison still yelling at him, and he jumps.

i'm gonna link you to a giftset the last few moments of the scene here that jay @kantpattanawat made because i think everything with bison in it is MUCH BETTER seen in motion and i also don't wanna run out of image space again sdkjsfdf

but kant jumps. terrified out of his mind, he jumps. for bison, for himself, because he thinks he deserves it, because he doesn't think he can save himself anyways. because at least this way he can show bison he chooses him. that he does love him. because bison threw his heart into the ocean and kant is going to sink to the bottom with it.

but bison didn't actually think he would. you can even see it on his face, right before kant jumps, that he's questioning if he actually will. and when he does, you can see the panic in his body language because holy shit kant actually jumped. and he shouts after him, like he's an idiot for it, and maybe kant is! but he did it for bison didn't he? because bison asked? and isn't that what bison's always wanted? someone that loves him enough to choose him, to listen to him?

so bison will jump in and he'll still make kant prove himself again, but i think this is the moment bison really forgives him. this is the moment he realizes kant was serious back in the hospital. that maybe it wasn't all lies. this is the moment their love story can really start.

[revelboo]

Revel your stories are absolutely addictive omg, you’ve brought back a love for spinister i haven’t had in like 2 years… i am loving the scavenger story oml… but nah if i was her i would so wanna throw myself off the fucking medical table right then and there 😭✋

Same 🤣

They will each get a fleshed out arc, but Spin gets dibs

Because I live in the southern part of the U.S. and we don’t do snow, I’m working from home today.

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 15

Scavengers x Reader

• It’s easier to think, focus, when it’s just the two of you. Because something about you calms that muddle of paranoia and confusion in his head. Letting him focus on the feel of you against him, something he needs now. Can’t recharge without your warmth and feeling the steady beat of your heart, your soft breaths against him. Knows something is broken in him, but can’t get a grip on what it is or remember why, but you feel like warmth and home in a way he’s desperate to hold onto. “Want,” he mutters, battle mask rubbing against your jaw.

• “What do you want, Spin?” You ask, voice soft and soothing as the flat of the chevron on his helm gently bumps against your forehead, those troubled optics more focused than you’re used to. But you already know what he wants, don’t you? Startled when his mask retracts and his lips brush against your cheek as he raggedly vents. You’ve seen him retract it before to fuel, but never from this close and you reach to cup his face in your palms, feathering a thumb against his bottom lip. He’s handsome. Alien and strange, struggling to be understood and to understand in turn and your heart aches for him. “You saved me, you know. If you hadn’t found and caught me-” Can’t make yourself say the rest and know you can never really explain how much you owe him. Because that first time you’d seen him, you’d only seen a giant monster running toward you with his hands outstretched.

• “Always find you,” he manages, spark twisting with that remembered fear in your voice. Because he knows that feeling of helplessness. Wants to be your shelter, your protector. Shield you so you never are afraid again. Even if you don’t want him the way he needs you, he’ll still keep you safe. Those soft hands and kind eyes his shelter. “Want you.” Wishes he was better at this. That he could coax you with sweet words, but loses them as soon as he tries to say them.

• Hands still framing his face as your heart begins to race, your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip and his optics track the movement before he leans in. And it occurs to you that you could push him away, lean back, instead you arch into him, your mouth brushing his. Realizing you do want this, him even if you’re uncertain about how it’s going to work or if it even can. Want those gentle hands that had rescued you, stubbornly reaching as you’d tried to hide, not giving up when he could have and just left you to starve.

• Shuddering as your soft mouth finds his own, his hips rock against the cradle of your thighs. And your little tongue swipes against the seam of his lips and he lets you in without hesitation. Seizing control as the slide of your mouth under his becomes a demand, his glossa sliding against your tongue, exploring. Wants to unwrap you, servos fisting in your top covering, the thin material tearing as you gasp into his mouth. Growling as he tries to figure out how to strip you, spike aching with the need to be inside you. To claim what’s his.

• “Slow down,” you manage, lips sliding to the corner of his mouth. Feel his hips grind against you as he growls hungrily. Servos sliding against your skin, pulling at your clothes as you laugh and splay a hand against his chassis, watching the rotor blades on his back flare out slightly. “Let me help, okay?” Pressing a kiss against his jaw, he finally eases back some, optics hungry as you struggle to strip still caged under him. His big, warm hands sliding possessively over skin as it’s exposed.

• “You think he’s fragging Tiny, yet?” Misfire asks, lingering near the closed door to Medbay and tempted to lean his helm against the door to try and hear. Can’t deny he’s jealous, that as much as he loves teasing you and watching you get flustered with him, he wants more. It’s not like you’re only Spinister’s. You’re all of theirs. A Scavenger. He just needs to convince you and his fellow Scavengers that sharing is not only possible, it’s for the best.

• “This isn’t funny,” Krok mutters, worried about Spinister being too rough with you. But really? The big medic is surprisingly gentle with you, fussing over you and clinging to you like he’s afraid to let you out of his sight. You’re one of his crew, though and Krok can’t help but be protective of you. After all, you’re so much smaller than the rest of them. Helpless and fragile. That situation with the tape had driven that home, his spark still constricting every time he thinks about it. Knowing you could have died because of their negligence. That he can’t fail you again.

Previous

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

BUZZED!

formula one x male!reader

request: Okay okay, here me out, Male!reader gets a buzzcut and the drivers find out via like instagram or something and they get really whiny abt it.

summary: you get a buzz cut without telling your boyfriend

warnings: initial instagram post is just for reference + reader only posts whichever one applies to you most!, swearing, playful arguing

contains: alex albon, lance stroll, + lewis hamilton

youruser has added to their story!

written: time for a change ✂️

alex albon:

"WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOO?" alex yelped as soon as he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

you had just been lounging on the sofa, scrolling through social media to pass the time. you jumped slightly at your boyfriend's shouting. "what? what did i do?"

alex rounded the corner into the living room and pointed at your hair with a pout.

"that! what did you?!"

"alex, i just cut my hair." you chuckled, staying slumped on the sofa.

alex whined. "how could you do this to me???"

"you're so dramatic, oh my fucking god." you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. as much as you loved your boyfriend, he sure knew how to be dramatic. "it's not that bad?"

"yes it is!" alex insisted. "what am i supposed to do now when i want your attention?!"

"ask for it like a normal person?"

"it's like you don't even know me." alex huffed, flopping down on the sofa beside you.

you laughed quietly and put your phone away. "it will grow back, y'know?"

your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you with a a pout. "and what am i supposed to do until then?"

"cope?"

he whined again and poked you in the ribs, making you squirm slightly. "you're so mean."

"yeah, well, it's not getting reattached," you argued. alex ran his hand over the shaved hair with a sigh. "better get used to it, baby."

"fine ... but never again, okay?"

"no promises."

lance stroll:

the second you walked into your boyfriend's hotel room, he was right in front of you. lance crossed his arms and pouted at you.

"uh-oh," you murmured.

a sheepish smile crossed your lips. you tentatively stepped forward until you were close enough to pull lance into a hug, which you were very pleased to say he didn't reject. hopefully that meant he wasn't too upset.

"why did you have to get a buzz cut?" lance whined, pushing your shoulder.

you hummed. the truth of it was that the haircut had been an impulsive action rather than a conscious decision, but ... well, it was done now. "it's just hair, baby."

"no, it's not," lance argued with a pout. "it's your hair. which you let me play with and wash and put bows in and stuff."

"yeah, i hope you understand i would literally never let anybody else touch my hair as much as you do," you pointed out. was a part of you hoping to distract lance with a sweet statement? perhaps. but he didn't need to know that.

lance paused for a moment. he seemed torn between being sad and whiny about your hair, and being happy about what you said. sue him. he liked to feel special. "... then why did you cut it?"

"because i wanted to?" you shrugged. your hands dropped to lance's waist and tugged him closer, making him squeak quietly. "it's summer and it's hot and i don't need a fur coat on my head?"

"but what about the bows?" lance pouted at you.

a little grin tugged at your lips. "well, i can put them in your hair?"

your boyfriend seemed to short circuit at the idea of you putting bows in his hair. his lips parted in surprise, before his expression morphed into a goofy grin. "okay."

lewis hamilton:

the first reaction you got from lewis about your haircut was a text. he must've already been close to home, but apparently he felt the need to freak out about you getting a buzz cut as early as possible.

you cut your hair?

... yes?

it hadn't taken you long to reply. a minute at most. evidently, that was long enough for your boyfriend to get to your door. he flung it open, a dramatic frown on his face. "why?"

"hello to you too," you muttered, standing up to greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "because it was getting in my eyes, lew."

"so?" lewis raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed playfully, thinking he was just having a joke and not being serious. "so i couldn't see."

"so?" lewis repeated.

not joking, apparently.

"i can see?" he poked at the now-short strands with a wary expression. "i'd lead you places??"

"lewis."

your boyfriend pouted. he let out a dramatic sigh and turned away from you. "fine, i guess you like your vision more than you love me, then."

knowing he was just milking it, you wrapped your arms around lewis from behind and kissed his temple cheekily. "yes! glad you understand."

"... brat."

"love you too, lew."

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: anon i am SO hearing you out (can you guys tell i love whiny boys yet)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[miamooooo]

josh putting a bratty reader in their place.

(warnings): nsfw, reader has female anatomy, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, spitting, slightly proofread, sorry for any typos!

yes josh loves a mouthy or sassy partner. josh gives off vibes of enjoying someone with a little brattiness to their personality because he loves how unpredictable you are. he finds it so easy to tease you, and he thinks it's both cute and hot when you don't take his shit and call him out. but he also enjoys putting you in your place if he needs to as well.

so imagine getting mouthy with josh after he asks you a simple question. you're giving him the nastiest attitude, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.. and at first he thinks maybe you're just having a bad day, so he lets it slide... not without a few jokes that pisses you off, obviously. but if it persists...

josh is murmuring to himself as he makes his way to the bedroom. he stops by the doorway, forearm resting on the frame before he speaks. "hey babe, do you uh know the last place i left my hoodie?"

you look up from your phone, letting out a dramatic sigh before meeting josh's gaze. "really.. again? maybe if you took better care of your stuff, you wouldn't have to ask me every five seconds."

josh is so used to your smart mouth by now because he's awfully calm, tilting his head at you and pretending to be hurt by your little comment. "ouch. is that how you talk to your boyfriend?"

you roll your eyes at him, knowing that he was already starting to entertain the situation and enjoy it a little too much. "josh, don't piss me off.. you really don't wanna get me upset right now."

josh laughs at your pouty face, pushing off the doorframe and making his way closer to your sitting form on the bed. "oh, wouldn't i?" he teasingly ask. he really couldn't take you serious when you looked so cute trying to be all mean to him.

"you're so damn cute," he murmurs, leaning down and gently cupping your jaw in his hand. "but if you keep this up, i'm gonna have to remind you who you're talking to. alright, sweetheart?"

for a moment, the only thing you can do is stare up at him, contemplating if you should say something snarky back, and he's just waiting for the moment.. you can tell. he knows it'll happen, but you wanna try and prove him wrong.

... which is why you couldn't resist and replied with something bratty..

... which is also why you're in the current predicament of josh in between your thighs, lapping hungrily at your drooling and overstimulated cunt. this was the third time he was making you cum and no he didn't care about the way you were tugging sharply on his hair or how you whined out that it was all "too much," because you should've thought about that when he warned you the first time.

"mmh ohh fuck..!" you cried out, your voice trembling and legs threatening to close around josh's head, but his hands are moving to firmly grip your thighs, forcing them to stay open. he was purposely ignoring your cries of his name, his tongue flicking your puffy clit, humming in amusement at the way you babble out incoherent sentences.

you're moaning and drooling and josh loves how obedient you are when you're like this, how you're crying out strings of "..i'msorry-! promise i'll be good..!" and man he really wants to take your word for it, but he's gotten used to those empty promises, not even those pretty little tears could save you.

josh briefly pulls his head back, giving you false hope that he's finally giving you a break, only for him to spit directly on your clit before he's messily circling his tongue around the sensitive bud again, licking up his own saliva mixed with your arousal.

you're so out of it — eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling with the urge to cum again — you couldn't help the way you frantically started to buck your hips into his face until your cumming all over josh's mouth and chin.

"fuckfuckfuck- i'm cumming..!"

josh eagerly laps up your cum before pulling back and wiping his mouth, admiring his handiwork. he loved seeing you like this. whiny and so sensitive.. and completely not like your usual bratty self. he laughs softly to himself, impressed by how he's got you like a puddle just from eating you out, he could almost feel bad for you!

he brings his hand between your thighs to cup your overstimulated cunt, laughing when you're flinching at his touch and closing your legs around his hand. "keep 'em open, hon..." he warns softly, prying your legs back open with his free hand and pinning one of your thighs against the bed.

"mm-mm, no more..! too much.." you cry out, frustrated tears pricking the corner of your eyes that makes him fake a sympathetic pout.

"oh no.. oh no, no, no.." josh murmurs playfully, eyes softening at your vulnerable state as his fingers continue to caress your folds, coaxing moans and whines from your throat. he's so unserious, and it's absolutely infuriating. "don't tell me you're tapping out.."

and just when you think that he's finished having his fun with you, he's removing his hand — not giving you a second for a breather before he's bringing it down to land a sharp smack directly to your wet cunt, making you moan out in shock and instinctively shut your legs around his hand again.

josh tuts disapprovingly, firmly pulling your legs apart again, his amused eyes meeting your glossy ones. "close your legs again, and i'm tying you down next."

"mnh, josh—!"

"keep. them. open."

you're crying out loudly again, eyes screwing shut and body jolting softly as he continues to smack your sensitive and weeping pussy with every punctuated word.

it feels like it goes on for so long. you're trembling after each slap, struggling to be good and take what he's giving you, and josh just loved having you wrapped around his finger like this!

"that's it, sweetie... just a little more. i know you can take it." he coaxes with a few more teasing slaps before he's finally relenting and smoothing his hand over your sore skin.

by the end of it you're whimpering, chest heaving with relieved sighs as josh wipes away your stray tears. he coos at you in the most mocking way possible and gosh he just really didn't think that it was enough. he wanted to ruin you some more.

"are you gonna be good now?" josh asked, that stupid sarcasm still laced in his voice.

"m..mhm!" you frantically nod, hiccuping and whining out soft pleas as josh's gaze flicker over your tear-stained face. he stays silent for a moment, his fingers continuing to massage over your stinging and puffy folds that has you letting out soft whines. he's teasing you, letting the silence stretch for a moment longer before finally letting out a playful 'nah.'

"i don't think you're telling me the truth, hon!"

josh is nowhere near done with you! not even after hearing those soft and broken cries. if you could be bratty even after he warned you to behave, then you can handle what he gives you.

[writingroom21]

Rafe teaching innocent reader how to suck dick

"That feel good?" You sweetly ask as you look up at Rafe.

Rafe decided that he wanted to help you out. He's tired of hearing you complain how the other boys won't come near you. Tired of hearing you whine about wanting someone to touch you. He thought scaring every guy who looked at you would have you crawling into his bed. But he underestimated you.

After what seemed like constant torture he snapped.

"Fuck do you ever stop whining? Do I need to fill that mouth of yours just to know peace." His words had shocked you, leaving you to gap at him. What really was the shocker of the night was you saying yes. He knew the real reason why you never acted on anything was because you were inexperienced. You told him multiple times how you wish you weren't a virgin anymore.

It was a miracle that he even has you kneeling between his legs right now. One that he was not about to pass up. "Feels amazing. Try using your mouth." He orders. Blue eyes meet your confused face as you try to understand what he means. "Start by using your tongue. Lick from the base to the tip." You do as he says. Sticking your tongue out to finally taste him.

There's a salty flavor that your tongue catches. It almost makes you pull back but Rafe's hand holds your head. He uses the leverage to bring you in closer. "Focus on the tip. Swirl your tongue around it." He lets out a low moan as you do what he says. His eyes closing when you give it a little kiss. "Open your mouth." Confused you do as he says, choking as he pushes his fingers into your mouth.

Rafe lets out a tsk. "It's okay sweetheart. We can fix that." It seems like more of a promise to himself than reassurance. The thought makes you feel something that you can't really pin point. Retracting his fingers, Rafe replaces it with his tip. He sits there watching as your mouth closes around him. The hand behind your neck keeps pushing even after you choke.

He grips your hair giving it a few tugs and pushes to get you used to the motion. When your gagging got too much he pulled out giving you some time to breathe. "Fuck sweetheart." He barely gave you time to recover before pushing you back down. You hands reach for his thighs to stabilize yourself. He hisses when you dig your nails into him as you gag. "Wanna try sucking me now?"

The way he says it kind of fools you into thinking it was your idea because you do want to suck him. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck Rafe as he bobs your head. Moans slip past his lips as he twitches inside your mouth. His cum shoots down the back of your throat causing you to coke and gag. Pulling you off of him, he instructs you to swallow.

One of his hands cups your cheeks making your open your mouth. "Did such a great job sweetheart. How about we try again tomorrow?

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe let me know if you want to be added

[aureyaa]

Underneath the Surface

pairing: Jeno x GN!Reader

description: You go to your room whenever Jaemin, your older brother, invites his friends over because it's just too chaotic. But then, things take a different turn when Jeno, your brother's best friend, comes into your room to check on you. He has always been this easygoing, funny guy who gets along with everyone, but today, his attention feels different. As Jeno comforts and befriends you, you start to notice that maybe your relationship means a bit more than being just friends with your brother.

warnings: Fluff, mentions of feeling overwhelmed, slightly emotional tone

wc: 1.7k

The afternoon had settled into a cozy kind of chaos. Jaemin, your ever-energetic older brother, had invited his friends over for a casual hangout, and of course, the house was now filled with laughter, music, and the sounds of people catching up. You could hear your brother's voice downstairs, probably joking around with his friends and causing his usual ruckus. But you were just not in the mood for noise today. It had been one of those weeks, and you sat in your room scrolling down on your phone quietly, trying to tune out everything happening around you.

Despite the warmth within the house, you couldn't help but desperately wish for space. It wasn't because you didn't love your brother or his friends; sometimes, it all just became a bit too loud. Jaemin had always been outgoing, dragging his friends deep into whatever whim he had gotten himself into, and you often found yourself getting swept up in it all or quietly watching from the sidelines.

You exhaled slowly as your eyes scanned down to the time on your phone; it was already late afternoon, and you'd spent some time here. You could still try to push all of that aside, but steps made their way towards the door. A highly familiar voice spoke up.

"Hey, still in hiding, are ya?"

Of course, even without lifting your head, you would've known-it was no other than Jeno, Jaemin's best friend. It was something that had never gotten used to: the way he always knew where to find you when you needed space. Jeno had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, not just Jaemin's friend but one who always tried to speak with you even when his attention often pulled elsewhere. There was something in the way Jeno carried himself, calm and easy, which always made one feel that they didn't have to be anybody but oneself.

You didn't have the time to react before Jeno knocked lightly and then opened the door, stepping into your room. There was his usual laid-back grin, but something in his eyes told of a more reflective look, as if to say he knew you were a little off today.

Hey," he said, wandering over to your desk. "Your brother sent me up to make sure you're not holed up in here being all mysterious."

You looked up at him and shrugged, your lips twitching upward despite yourself. "I'm fine," you said, keeping your tone light. "Just… needed a break from all the noise.

Jeno leaned against your desk, looking around your room for a second before meeting your eyes again. "Yeah, I get that," he said with a sympathetic smile. "I know it can get a bit too much down there." He tilted his head, studying you with a quiet gaze. "You've been up here for a while now, though. Everything okay?

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain it all. It wasn't that anything in particular was wrong, but there was this underlying feeling you couldn't shake. It had been building in your stomach for a while now, and you didn't really know what to do about it. You didn't want to unload on Jeno, but the way he was looking at you made it feel like he was genuinely interested in listening to what you had to say.

Yeah," you said, trying to sound more convinced than you actually were. "Just… stuff. You know, life."

Jeno's gaze gentled as he stepped closer, pulling a chair out of your desk and sitting down across from you. "I get it. Life has been weird sometimes." His tone was even, and somehow, that made things just a tiny bit easier. "But you're not going to have to deal with it alone, got it?

You looked up, surprised at the sincerity laced in his voice. This wasn't usually Jeno-being serious was never him, he's usually the one with the jokes, trying to make someone laugh. But there was something about him today that set him off. He wasn't pushing for an answer. He wasn't trying to make light of the things. He was just… there.

"I'm not just your brother's best friend," Jeno said, his voice soft but sincere. "I'm your friend, too, okay? If you need to talk about anything, then I'm here, and you don't have to face everything on your own."

There was something in the way he said this and something so sincere in his words that caused your chest to tighten. For a moment, you didn't quite know what to say. You had always seen Jeno as this cool, calm guy who blended into any situation with ease, someone who never seemed to have a care in the world. But now, the reality of him being so open, so vulnerable with you, made everything feel different. You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, but you pushed it away, not ready to examine it just yet.

You finally spoke, trying to shake off the wave of emotion that came unexpectedly. "Thanks, Jeno; I appreciate it," you said softly, smiling. "I'll keep that in mind."

He nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. The weight in the room felt weirdly comforting, the silence between you two not awkward but rather an understanding of some sort. You opened your mouth to say something else when Jaemin's voice boomed from downstairs.

"Jeno! You up there or what? Come on, let's go already!

Jeno looked towards the door, an arch rising onto his face once more. "Guess that's my cue," he said with a chuckle, and then rose from his seat. He headed for the door but then turned back to you once more. "But seriously, if you need anything, I'm right here, okay? Don't hesitate."

You nodded, weirdly out in some indefinable way. "Won't. Thanks, Jeno."

With one last smile, Jeno slipped out of your room, leaving the door creaked open behind him. You sat there for a while, processing it all. You had always thought of him as a family friend, one who would always be around. Today, you realized how much more he meant to you, not only as Jaemin's best friend but also as someone you could approach.

You sat there a moment longer, letting the weight of the conversation settle. Maybe you didn't have all the answers yet. Maybe life wasn't as simple as it seemed. But one thing was for sure: Jeno wasn't going anywhere, and neither was your brother. You weren't alone in this.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

14+27 for bez/vale plz ;))))

bezz/vale: 14 (inexperienced lover) + 27 (feminization)

It isn’t a joke to Bezz, not really, so nobody laughs.

Valentino doesn’t laugh here, either—because he likes eager things, pretty things. Smooths his hand over Bezz’s thighs, right to the flappy hem of his skirt.

“Looking sharp, Marco.” He pretends to flip up it, smiles indulgently at Bezz pushing it back down again, blushing blotchy down into the collar of his demure, pink shirt. “Did you dress up for me?”

Bezz squirms in his lap. Makes a noise—harsh, high-pitched—when it gets him right over the budge in Valentino’s ratty jeans.

“Yeah,” he stutters. “No, I mean—”

“Ah, that means I’m quite lucky, no? To get the prettiest girl at the party.”

He sucks in a breath, shivering, dives for a kiss before Valentino can keep talking. It’s a mess, overeager, their teeth knocking together. Valentino pulls at the overgrown, surprisingly smooth curls at the base of his neck until Bezz backs off a bit, so he can fine up the press of their lips, his tongue inside Bezz’s mouth.

It’s nothing he didn’t expect. Hardly the first time he fucked a starstruck twenty-year-old.

“So,” he says, conversationally, a hand squeezing Bezz’s ass and the other wiping off a smudge of his bright red lipstick. He sways against him, then straightens. “Have you sucked cock before, Bezz?”

Bezz’s mouth thins, pressed together. “Yeah—”

“That’s nice,” Valentino cuts him, before he knows that look in Bezz’s face, stubborn, bullish. He thinks he’s about to find out a lot more about his Academy riders than he presently wants to. “Down you go, eh, love?”

Amorina, his voice saccharine. And it hits bullseye. Bezz is near liquid when he slides down, bracketed between Valentino’s thighs, hands shaking on his fly—one, two, three tries just to get the button open. He bats him off, laughing, and gets his own dick out.

He taps against the seam of Bezz’s lips until he opens up sweetly, on command. Hooks his fingers into the insides of his cheeks just to be mean, watch him struggle to swallow what is probably a noise he thinks is embarrassing.

No matter, Valentino will get them eventually. Soon, it looks like.

“Careful, now.” This is not the reason he perfected a professorial, vaguely condescending tone, but it works. Bezz is wide-eyed, lashes thick and long with mascara, paying enraptured attention—same look he gets when he’s correcting his breaking or something. “Teeth are very bad, in a blowjob.”

“Vale.”

“Sorry, sorry, baby,” he says, in obnoxious English, “floor is yours.”

Bezz presses a couple kisses on him, leaves those lipstick-waxy, red marks. Then spits. He’s shaking a bit, this guts-on-the-floor, awed look in his eyes, but Valentino doesn’t mention it, only mutters out, “pretty,” voice an octave rougher than he was expecting.

Bella, bella, bella. Bezz is tenting his skirt.

But for all his talk, he needs Valentino’s hand clamping hard on the back of his neck, controlling the first thrust so he doesn’t choke.

[antinousletmehit]

hi! 👋 can you pretty please write more polities x reader? He’s adorable and I would love to see more polities x reader fanfic stories maybe of him getting home and after he helps ody with the suitor problem, he runs straight to his wife, reader, who has also been waiting for him and he get done onto his knees and hugs her sobbing 😭 almost ugly crying on how sorry he is that he was gone for so long and beg for forgiveness

Or maybe of polities gets turned into a pig by Circe because he ate food with the crew even though he is a sweetheart and reader starts fawning over his adorable pig form with glasses and red bandanna

sorry so many cute short stories ideas involving polites and other characters from epic love your writing though 😍

୨୧┇pairing: Polites x reader

୨୧┇I don’t get enough requests for him ngl

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

After twenty long years, he was finally home.

He dropped his sword, the clang echoing in the silent hall, and turned to Odysseus. “My king, with your leave…” Odysseus, though weary, gave him a knowing nod. “Go to her, Polites.”

Polites didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted from the hall, his heart pounding as he ran through the familiar streets of Ithaca. The village had changed in some ways, new faces, new buildings, but his feet knew the way. They carried him to the small cottage on the outskirts of town, the one he had built with his own hands before the war.

The moment he saw the warm glow of firelight through the window, his breath hitched. You were inside. You were there.

He pushed open the door, his voice breaking as he called out, “Y/N?”

You turned from where you stood near the hearth, and the world seemed to stop. Your eyes widened, your hand flying to your mouth as you took him in. disheveled, bruised, and teary eyed, but alive. “Polites,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t trust himself to speak. He crossed the room in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees in front of you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face against you, his shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You froze for a moment, stunned, before your hands came up to thread through his hair. “Polites…”

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he cried, clinging to you like a drowning man clings to a lifeline. “I didn’t mean to—gods, I thought I’d never see you again. I thought…I thought you’d have moved on, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. I—”

“Polites,” you interrupted gently, pulling back just enough to tilt his tear streaked face up to yours. “Stop. You’re home. That’s all that matters.”

“But I left you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I left you alone for twenty years. How can you forgive me for that?” Tears welled in your eyes as you knelt down, cupping his face in your hands. “You didn’t leave by choice. You went to war to protect our home, our people. And you came back to me. That’s all I ever hoped for.”

His lip quivered as he stared at you, his brown eyes filled with so much love and regret that it nearly broke your heart. “I don’t deserve you.”You smiled softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “You’re wrong. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Polites.”

A shaky laugh escaped him, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered. “More than anything. More than words can say.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, your own tears falling freely now.

For a long moment, the two of you simply held each other, the weight of twenty years melting away in the warmth of your embrace. Polites vowed then and there to spend the rest of his life making up for the time you’d lost, cherishing you with every breath he had left.

[psychslvt]

me and my bf might have a threesome tmr night and the other guy isnt that kinky so heres my ideal threesome if i could make it perfect!!

daddy has me tied up with my thighs spread, lightly tracing my pussy with his finger. he gets a notification on his phone and smiles down at me.

"you have no fucking idea whats coming."

he grabs a slip of fabric and ties it around my head, leaving me defenseless and unable to see or move. "stay there baby" he murmurs as he leaves, as if i have a choice.

a few minutes later he returns, but this time with another pair of footsteps. i start to panic and struggle against my ropes, crying out and asking whats going on.

a sharp slap against my cheek silences me. "shut up, slut." i quickly shut my mouth right before he hits me again, much harder. "what do you say after i tell you to do something, huh?"

i twitch but keep my mouth shut, angry about my situation. he slaps me a third time on the other side of my face, the hardest one yet, before grabbing my face and hissing into my ear, "you stupid bitch. you better switch that fucking attitude or i swear to god you'll regret it. there are two of us and one of you and you're all tied up and presented to us like a fucking whore, how do you think thats gonna go for you?"

"im sorry daddy" i whimper in response before he shoves my head back and draws away.

"good." he steps back and speaks to the other person in the room. "you can touch her now."

"fucking finally" a second voice greets, higher and sharp. "where do you want me"

"can you restrain her for a minute while i take these ropes off her? i dont think we need them." i feel someones cold hands wrap around my naked body, holding me in place while daddy unties me. i feel the strangers hands pinch and squeeze my nipples and i whine while he laughs at me.

"shes fucking pathetic. is she always like this?"

"no," daddy says, "shes usually a lot brattier. she must be scared."

"aw are you scared baby? are you fucking scared?" he grabs ahold of my throat with one hand, cutting off the flow of blood to my brain. "good. you should be"

my eyes roll back as i suddenly feel my boyfriend's tongue on my clit, lapping gently before licking up my cunt. i moas as he eats me out, all while his friend abuses my exposed chest. daddy adds his fingers in too, pressing his other hand on top of my cervix and before i know it i'm about to cum. he yanks his fingers out of me.

"dumb fucking whore, youre only allowed to cum after we do."

against the hand around my neck i rasp out a "please" before daddy draws back and slaps my cunt.

"you better get to work then, bitch" i hear his tone of voice shift as he adresses his friend, "do you wanna fuck her now?" i hear him agree and before i know it they've swapped positions and flipped me onto my stomach and i can feel the tip of his dick pressed against me. "you better be grateful for that prep earlier because thats the only thing you're getting tonight. okay?"

"yes daddy," i moan as an unfamiliar dick slowly pushes its way into me.

"fuckk," i hear the voice behind me moan as he pulls back out slowly just to slam back into me and start fucking me at a brutal pace.

"wait wait wait!" i beg, squirming as i try to push past the pain of the sudden roughness.

"you want me to wait? too fucking bad bitch. your daddy said i could do whatever i wanted to you so youre at my fucking mercy." he slaps my ass so hard i yelp and grab out for my boyfriend's hand. i hear his friend laugh right before the sound of daddys belt unbuckling, a moment before he grabs the back of my head and yanks it up by my hair. i feel the tip of daddys dick slap against my open mouth and tongue.

"can you be a good girl and take two dicks at once like we talked about? yeah?" he murmurs to me as a whine out a desperate "yes," before i feel him push himself inside of mouth.

instantly i can feel how big he is and i fight to restrain my gag reflex while he sinks deeper into my throat and his friend fucks me roughly from behind. i moan around his dick right before i gag for the first time. i hear him laugh before pulling out of my mouth and slapping me.

"none of that, okay? stay fucking still."

"yes daddy," i manage to rasp before he shoves his dick down my throat again. my head goes blank as the lack of oxygen starts to get to me, barely registering whats going on as im being fucked by two men at once. after a while i hear his friend groan that hes gonna cum before his hips come to a stuttering stop and he gasps, pausing for a second and catching his breath while daddy finally relents and i draw off his dick with a grateful sob, tears shining on my cheecks and drool on my chin.

"oh you're not done yet," i hear him growl before i'm flipped over again and my hands are held back by daddy until his friend comes over and takes his place. he moves to get between my legs, running a finger up my cunt and pushing what cum had seeped out of me back in. "youre such a slut i can't fucking believe youre doing this," he taunts. i start to respond before i feel both of his hands wrap arond my throat, cutting me off.

"not a fucking word."

he thrusts into me all at once and a practically scream as i feel myself stretch around his dick. his friend lets go of my hands and guides one of them to his dick, guiding me as i jerk him off. "there you go," he mutters, "fuck youre so fucking slutty."

"isn't she?" daddy, responds, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. "its so fun to lend her out. she doesnt get a say in it and at the end of the day shes still fucking mine."

his friend murmurs an agreement before i feel my boyfriends hands squeeze even tighter around my neck as i lose consciousness completely. when i come to i can tell hes close, fucking into me so fast and hard that my mind stays blank and i start babbling pleas and moans for him to stop, crying that it hurts.

"fuck thats so hot fuck dont stop crying im not gonna fucking stop" he groans as he continues, moving one hand to grab mine. it's all i can do to lie there and take it while my other hand is being quickly jerked up and down his friends dick.

"fuck im gonna cum again," moans his friend, "open your fucking mouth. i comply and i feel him cum in my mouth, the foreign salty taste startling me. hgroans as i swallow. "good girl."

daddy fucks into me even faster and i can tell hes close. i wrap my legs around his back and he cums inside of me, groaning as he fills me up. he stays like that for a while before slowly pulling out, his cum mixed with his friends' immediately dripping out of me. he removes my blindfold before pulling me in for a gentle kiss.

"you did so good baby, he whispers sweetly. "lets get you cleaned up."

AAH THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT but here we are. not proofread or anything i hope this is okay and u guys like it >.<

[jkchampsz]

Under the influence - Ethan Landry

Paring: bsf! Ethan x virgin! Reader

Contains/warnings: drunk! Reader, making out, dry humping, mention of loss of virginity

Summary: You get really drunk and your best friend Ethan offers to take you home…

You were drunk. You had gone to a party with your friends—Ethan, Tara, Mindy, Anika, Quinn, Sam, and Chad—and drank more than you intended. Since your roommate was out of town, Ethan offered to take you home.

You were stumbling slightly as you leaned against Ethan for support. The party had started to wind down, and your friends were scattered around, but your focus was on Ethan, who was trying to get you home.

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” you slurred, holding onto his arm as he tried to pull away.

Ethan chuckled softly, his hand resting gently on your back. “You need to get some rest, you’ve had enough for one night.”

“But I’m not tired,” you protested, your voice a little whiny as you pouted. “I wanna stay… just a little longer.”

Ethan smiled but shook his head. “No more partying for you. Let’s get you home.”

“Ughh you’re so boring.” You slur out.

Chuckling, he turned to face you fully, his hands steadying you on your feet. “Come on, uber’s here.”

“Noooo.” You whine as he drags you to the car.

Ethan ignores your whining, opening the car door and gently pushing you inside. He slides in next to you, giving the driver your address. You cross your arms and pout, making Ethan roll his eyes.

The car ride wasn’t long. Once the car stops, Ethan pays the driver and gets out, opening your door for you. He helps you out, keeping a firm grip on your arm to prevent you from stumbling. “Let’s get you inside.”

Ethan leads you inside, his arm around your waist as he supports your weight. He fumbles with the keys for a moment before getting the door open. Once inside, he sits you on the couch, and sits next to you.

“Thank youuu Eth.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder.

Ethan smiles, placing a gentle hand on your head. "No problem, that's what friends are for."

“I’ve never drinked this much before,” you laugh.

"Clearly," Ethan chuckles, his fingers playing with your hair. "You're usually not this drunk." He pauses, looking down at you.

You look at him, and something hits different… It’s like you want to kiss him.

The way you're looking at him makes him tense up. His breath catches in his throat as he looks back at you. "You should probably get some rest," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle.

Maybe it’s the alcohol making you want this, but right now you don’t care, you just need to kiss him. So you do.

Ethan's eyes widen in surprise as your lips meet his. For a moment, he freezes, unsure of how to react. But then, something inside him snaps. His hand reaches up, cupping the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, pressing you back against the couch.

The kiss Is drunk and sloppy, you try to kiss back as much as you can.

The kiss is messy, filled with the taste of alcohol and desire. Ethan's other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer as he tries to keep up with your enthusiastic kisses. His breathing grows heavier, and he pulls back slightly, panting. "Fuck," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

You slowly start catching up your breath. “Ethan…“

Ethan's eyes meet yours, his gaze soft and tender. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and gentle. He wants to kiss you again but he knows it’s wrong because you’re drunk.

You can’t help but look at his lips and try to kiss him again.

His lips meet yours once more, but this time he pulls back almost immediately, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep some distance between you. "You're drunk," he murmurs against your lips, trying to catch his breath.

“But-“

"No," he whispers firmly but gently, placing a finger against your lips. "Not like this. Not when you can't even stand straight." His hand moves to cup your cheek. "When you kiss me again, I want you to really mean it, not because you've had too much to drink."

“But I really mean it.” You say.

Ethan releases a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he keeps a steady gaze on you. "Even if you do mean it now, you won't remember much of tonight when you sober up," he says softly into your hair.

“Please Ethan…” you say and kiss him again.

Ethan's resolve weakens as you kiss him again, your lips soft and warm against his. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist you when you're like this. He kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Fuck, you're making this so hard,"

“Mmhh” you moan into the kiss and move so you’re straddling his lap.

Ethan's breath hitches as you straddle him, his hands automatically moving to grip your hips. He kisses you harder, a low groan escaping him as he feels your body pressed against his. But even in his arousal, he tries to hang onto the last vestiges of his resolve. "Wait, wait,"

“Mmh noo” you start kissing his neck and start grinding your hips against him.

Ethan's resolve shatters as you start kissing his neck and grinding against him. He lets out a desperate gasp, his hands tightening on your hips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mmh Ethan” you moan in pleasure.

His breath catches in his throat at your breathy moan of his name. He knows this is wrong but all logical thoughts are fading. One hand moves up to tangle in your hair, pulling your lips back to his while the other supports your grinding hips. "We shouldn't..." he pants between kisses.

“Ethan… I want you to be my first.” You confess.

Every muscle in his body tenses at your confession. He pulls back immediately, despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to continue. "No," he says firmly, though his voice is thick with desire. "Not tonight. Not like this." He gently but firmly removes your hands from his neck.

“Why not?”

Ethan takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "Because you're drunk and you don't know what you're saying," he says gently, cupping your face in his hands.

He sees the confusion and disappointment in your eyes, and it pains him greatly. But he knows he's making the right decision, even if his body disagrees. “Come on, let’s take you to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”