#both were shit (derogatory)

[sammygender]

THANK YOU OLI I don't get the season 8 hype. No Cas, Sam and Dean have the same conflict they've been having the entire show with no new angles like why????

YEAH LITERALLY. inital conflict is literally dean being angry at sam for trying to move on and heal which is just so intensely unlikeable and for some reason i was shocked by it and it made me genuinely dislike him. to me dean is at his most awful in s8..... like he's not. he's definitely not. gadreel possession in s9 and like most of s9/10 with the mark is much worse than anything he does in s8 and killing amy in s7 was sooo awful too. but dean is just so intensely a dick in s8 and i was so angry with him and not even in a fun way. like in s9/10 he is AWFUL but i enjoyed the drama. i didnt even enjoy the interpersonal drama in s8. which is when you know something is wrong

then again. im probably too harsh on it and am basing it off memories of sitting through the first half because i LOVE the trials and sacrifice and the great escapist so so much. and i love kevin <3 he's s8 right. but. to me s8 will always be the worst season. maybe i just hate what it brings to the shows canon. sam leaving dean for a girl and a dog (which is NOT EVEN WHAT HAPPENED... and if it WAS it wouldve been justified.... id support sam even if i thought he abandoned dean unprovoked idc.....) is constantly brought back like the worst of his sins even as late as like. s11. SHUT UP. first half of s8 is just upsetting for sam reasons and not in a fun way

[doomsdayradio]

i wake up everyday and amatonormativity

[uupiic]

Also when folks are crying that ''they sometimes do tours, just go and see it then!''

Ah yeah, the tour. The ''minimal decorations, minimal line-up, heavily supplemented from local celebs, still cost a small fortune for poor people"? That tour? Thanks, but I'd rather have the proshot DVD :)

But also, we literally went through the pandemic just now. If they don't want DVDs, what about streams then? From the top of the head, don't worry if you don't know these: Feuerschwanz had a proshot show (Die Letzte Schlacht), Schattenmann had a show. Powerwolf had an entire concert movie up (The Monumental Mass). If Saltatio Mortis could hold a LIVE streaming concert (Ein Traum von Freiheit) for thousands online all over Europe (and the world) in 2021, what's stopping broadway or west end from having a streaming service for this sort of thing? Surely, they have a lot more money and other means at their disposal to make it happen than some German folk metal band?

People who honestly think there shouldn’t be a proshot release of theater shows because then people wouldn’t go to the theater anymore are so fucking dumb holy shit how dumb do you have to be did people stop watching footbal games because it also airs on tv? did people stop going to concers because you could get the dvd? holy shit just let poor people have a taste of the thing too god damn it

[twinktosterone]

never have i wanted to study a man like a protist under a microscope more than now

[arolesbianism]

I am still so enamored with the though of Jackie having grown up with a loving family who she probably loved back at least for a time that she then proceeded to push away and betray all for the sake of mindless progress and corporate greed. Klei pls let the baby announcement ppl be Jackie's immediate family I need her to have been involved in endangering one of her parents and the grandparent of her niece who was partially named after her so bad it's so important to me

[lalalovejay]

|| NDA || ~ Lee Heeseung

♤Pairings: idol!heeseungXfem!fangirl!reader

♤Synopsis: Attending the New York show for Enhypen's first world tour, you find yourself in quite the predicament when a man approaches you and your best friend with a question that leaves you absolutely flabbergasted.

"Would you be willing to sign an NDA?"

♤Warnings: just straight up smut with a little plot, dom!heeseung, sub!reader, protected sex, cunnilingus(f!receiving), p in v, use of pet names (good girl, sir, princess, angel), use of derogatory names (slut, whore), blowjob(m!receiving), fingering(f!receiving), hair pulling, choking, I think that's it

♤Author's Note: This is 1000000% delusional and not based on any true stories. This is my first time writing smut on this platform, so please give me some feedback to help me do better next time! I would really appreciate it:) Also, this has been in my drafts for monthsssss so I finally finished it lol

(MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

"Hey, you ready to go?" Lucy asks you as she pulls on her boots.

"Yeah, one sec." You say before applying lipgloss over your red stained lips.

Grabbing your bag and lightstick, you follow your best friend out of your hotel room. Lucy skips down the hallway as you laugh at her giddiness.

"I can't believe we're actually gonna see them live! I'm so fucking excited!" Lucy squeals as you both reach the elevators.

Pressing on the button, you look over at her with an excited smile on your face.

"I can not wait to see Jake in real life. I'm so down bad for that man." You sigh at just the thought of him.

Lucy giggles and agrees.

"I need Sunghoon to read my sign and send me a kiss. After that, I can die in peace." She jokes along with you.

The elevator doors ding open before you both step in. Pressing the button for the lobby, you both patiently wait for the elevator to reach the ground level before stepping out.

"What if during Polaroid Love they come up to our section?! Please! I need Heeseung to sing to me!" Lucy groans as she imagines the man staring deep into her eyes as he serenades her.

You giggle at your friend who begins to daydream of concert scenarios.

"If they do come up to our section, I hope I can get Jake's attention." You say as you look down at the Jake photocard that hangs on your concert bag.

"I mean, we're hot. We're bound to get someone's attention, right?" Lucy jokingly says as you two exit the hotel doors and walk to the subway station.

After taking the subways to the venue, you both get in line as the time for the show to start inches closer. You both were able to get your hands on some freebies and banners while you waited.

Going through security and finding your seats, you two excitedly take pictures and videos of the venue and other fans in the crowd as you all wait for the show to begin.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! We're actually here!" You squeal at Lucy, who matches your energy as she holds your hand.

"Please! I need one interaction, and I'll be the happiest girl alive!" She says as she stares at the stage a few feet away from where your section was.

You two were able to find fairly good seats with an amazing view of the stage on the right side of the venue. Only a few rows up and at the end of the row in the aisle. Praying that the boys would come up to your section when they performed Polaroid Love.

Soon, the intro music began to play as the lights dimmed. The VCR begins playing as everyone screams. Lightsticks waving in the air as the screen begins moving. The 7 members of Enhypen on stage ready to give a performance of a lifetime for their loving fans.

You and Lucy scream as your biases face pop up on the big screen. Their stares are very intense as they each get into position to perform their opening song.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! JAKE MOTHER FUCKING SIM!" You scream as he pops up on screen once again.

The concert goes on as planned. Each performance leaves everyone in awe. You and Lucy fangirling like no other. On this particular night, the fans had come up with a project for Heeseung as it was his birthday. While the members had their talking moment, the fans began singing Happy Birthday when the screen showed Heeseung. His smile was wide as he listened to the fans and members sing him a happy birthday.

In that moment, something switched in you. You always knew that Heeseung was a very attractive man. He was everything a girl wanted. Tall, handsome, funny, sweet, and good at everything.

"I think he just bias wrecked me with that smile." You tell Lucy as your eyes stayed glued onto Heeseung, who laughs slightly as he says his words.

Lucy laughs as she follows your line of sight to the man. His hair had been styled to show his forehead. He was absolutely glowing on his birthday.

"Don't tell Jake." You jokingly threaten Lucy as she shakes her head with a knowing smile on her face.

"Little Miss, I only want Jake Sim, is finally joining the dark side. Lee Heeseung will eventually have you wrapped around his finger. It's a canon event." Lucy says in a matter of fact tone as she goes back to ogling over Sunghoon, who began speaking.

For the rest of the night, your eyes tried to stay on Jake, but you found yourself searching for Heeseung every now and then. His stage presence was very overwhelming, and had you wishing you could see his beautiful face up close.

When Polaroid Love began playing, you and Lucy sang along, not really getting your hopes up of them coming to your section. The moment they ran off stage and began roaming the crowd, you and Lucy screamed in happiness.

Suddenly, the spotlight was shown in your section. You and Lucy look at each other with wide eyes.

"No.fucking.way." She says as you both look back at the group of boys making their way to your section.

You and Lucy scream, even louder, as they get closer. Jungwon leads the way as Jake, Niki and Heeseung follow behind. You and Lucy both stand next to each other as they walk by, Jungwon giving you both a kind smile and a high five. Jake smirks slightly as he sees the 'Jake' sticker on your lightstick. Lucy records the whole thing. Jake sends you a flying kiss before walking further up. Your eyes were too focused on the man to notice that Heeseung was standing directly in front of you after Niki passes by finishing Lucy's hand heart. Lucy pulls on your shoulder to get your attention, her own mouth agape as Heeseung stands in front of you both.

You swing back around and come face to face with a pair of dark eyes, a glint of playfulness swimming in them. You gasp as Heeseung smirks, bringing the mic to his lips as he begins singing to you. Your eyes widen as his eyes stare deeply into your own.

He sends a wink before following after the other boys who begin making their way back to the stage.

"OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?" Lucy screams as she shakes your shoulders.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!" You scream back as you both fangirl over your interactions.

"I GOT IT ON CAMERA!" Lucy realizes as she looks down at her phone in her hand.

"Send it to me!" You say as you look back to the stage where they continued performing.

As the night goes on, you could have sworn that Heeseung had been glancing at your section for the rest of the concert. He interacted more with your side, and his eyes found your own a few times throughout the night.

"He wanna fuck." Lucy jokes as she catches Heeseung looking over again.

You chuckle as you enjoy the moment. Trying not to feel super flustered at the whole interaction you had with Heeseung knowing that he was just really good at fan service and you didn't want your delusions to get the best of you.

As the concert comes to an end and you all sadly have to say your goodbyes, the screen closes on the members as the lights turn on once again. You and Lucy stay seated as everyone around you picks up confetti and takes pictures or videos.

"I'm shook. Sunghoon sent me a kiss. I can die happily." Lucy dreamily says as she rewatches her concert videos.

"Let me see the Heeseung interaction again, I need to relive it." You ask Lucy as she scrolls through her camera roll to find the video.

Just as she was about to press play, you felt a tap on your left shoulder. You quickly look up to see who it was that had tapped you. A young Korean man stood before you both. The staff lanyard hanging around his neck.

"Yes?" You ask curiously.

You hoped you hadn't done anything wrong for the staff to come to you personally.

"Hi, I'm part of the staff traveling with the artists. I was asked by their manager to come get you both. He has a few questions and would like to talk." He tells you in a hushed voice so no one else could hear.

Lucy looks at you confused. You look back at her with the same expression.

"Uh, sure?" You say as you get up.

He leads you both towards the exit and into a door that says, 'Employees Only'. Lucy looks over at you nervously as you walk down a narrow hallway bustling with staff cleaning up. The man leads you to a door that says 'Management' and knocks twice.

"Come in!" A voice booms from inside.

He opens the door and steps to the side to allow you both to enter. You look over at Lucy uneasily but step in anyway. There were a lot of people around, so if anything happened, you would be able to scream for help. Lucy follows behind you hesitantly, and the man shuts the door once you both enter.

Two men sit on the couch and chair of the room as you both stand there awkwardly. You notice that the two men were Enhypen managers. Recognizing them instantly because of airport photos.

"Hello! I'm Sejin. Please, sit." The older man introduces himself and gestures to the two chairs across from them.

You look over at Lucy, who just shrugs and takes a seat. You follow her move and sit in the chair beside her.

"Are we in some sort of trouble?" Lucy asks as her eyes glance around the room nervously.

"Not at all! This discussion has to be private in order to protect our artists' image, so we asked to see you in private without the prying eyes and ears. My name is Woobin, by the way." Another manager tells you both.

"So what is this about?" You ask curiously.

Your eyes narrow in on the papers and pen sitting on the table in front of you all. The big letters, 'NDA', are boldly printed at the top. Your eyes widen slightly as you realize what's about to happen. You had only heard stories of this type of thing and never expected it to happen to you.

"Before we discuss any further. Would you be willing to sign an NDA? We can not disclose the topic of this conversation unless we have your full trust that you will not leak, speak, or even hint at having this conversation with us." Sejin asks the two of you.

You look over at Lucy, who looks back at you with wide eyes. Both of you realized exactly what they wanted to talk about.

"Before you make any decisions, may I ask your age and for your ID to confirm?" Woobin asks.

"I'm 21, and she's 20." You say as you and Lucy pull out your own IDs to show them.

Woobin looks it over before handing them to Sejin, who examines them as well. He nods his head before handing them back to you.

"So, will you sign? If you don't feel comfortable with it, it is understandable, and we'll have another staff member walk you two out safely." Sejin reassures you both of your safety.

"I'll sign." Lucy is the first to speak up.

You look at her in bewilderment.

"Lucy." You say her name to gain her attention.

"What? I want to know what they want to talk about. Besides, it's only an NDA. If you read the fine print, you should be fine before signing." Lucy says as she grabs the papers that lay on the table.

You sigh and grab them as well. Reading through the pages, eyes scanning over every printed word down to the page number that is printed on the bottom corner.

"Are you seriously gonna do this?" You ask Lucy.

"When will we ever get the chance to sign an NDA contract with an idol groups manager that we stan? Never. So, yes, I'm doing this." Lucy says as she gives the two men a small smile and picks up the pen to sign her name on the contract line.

You sigh as you contemplate for a little longer. You don't want Lucy to go through this alone. Worried about her safety you stupidly sign your name on the contract as well.

Handing the two contracts back to Woobin, he and Sejin sign their own names and place the contract into a small folder.

"Perfect. Now we can get to talking. The reason for this conversation is that 2 of our artists have asked to meet you both. If you agree, we will have a staff car pick you up from your accommodations and bring you to the artist hotel where you two will meet. Whatever happens between you both must be consensual, or it will be a breach of contract. It must be kept secret and hidden from others, or it will be a breach of contract. Do you both understand?" Sejin begins explaining.

"Yes." You and Lucy say.

"Good. If you would like to meet the 2 artists, you can give us a call at this number, and we will send a car to pick you up. This is all with your own consent, of course. If you decide not to, this conversation will stay between us, or it will be a breach of contract. We will not force you two to do anything you do not consent to. Our top priority is the safety of our artists and of you if you choose to meet with them." Sejin continues and hands you both a small card with only a phone number printed on it.

"Can I ask who the 2 artists are? And which of them asked for who?" Lucy asks them.

"Our artists Sunghoon and Heeseung. Sunghoon has asked for you, Miss Lucy. And Heeseung has asked for you, Miss (Y/N)." Woobin informs you both.

Lucy looks over at you in shock. Her bias had asked to meet with her. While you, on the other hand, had your bias wrecker of the night asking to meet with you.

"Oh 100% I am A okay to meet with Sunghoon." Lucy squeals as the information settles in.

You couldn't believe this was actually happening. Lee Heeseung had asked to meet with you. You. Of all the people he saw in that crowd tonight.

"Well, we have Miss Lucy's consent. How about you, Miss (Y/n)? If you still need time to think about it, we completely understand and will be a phone call away awaiting your answer." Sejin says.

"Okay." You whisper.

"I'm sorry?" Sejin asks, not hearing you properly.

"I said okay. I agree to meet with Heeseung." You tell him a little louder.

Your heartbeat drums in your ears as you continue to let the information sink in. Lucy squeals happily beside you as the two men give you both a reassuring smile.

"Great! You're more than welcome to return to your accommodations. The 2 should be back in their hotel rooms right about now. Since today is Heeseung's birthday, he will be doing a live before meeting with you. Will you both be okay with meeting the two around 12:30 am?" Sejin asks.

Lucy quickly nods her head.

"Yes! We'll be ready by then." She answers for you both.

Sejin smiles.

"Perfect. Just call the number when you're ready. Woobin will escort you ladies out. It was nice meeting you both." Sejin says and reaches his hand out for a handshake.

You take his hand and give it a firm shake in gratitude as Lucy does the same after you. Woobin gestures for you two to follow him out of the room and back into the once bustling hallway. The staff had cleaned up pretty much everything, and the hallway was now empty. He leads you towards the exit and allows security to walk you out the door.

Once you two make it outside, Lucy jumps up in excitement.

"Oh my god....that just happened." You finally realize the situation you were both in.

"I'm gonna get dicked down by my bias. This is fucking wild." Lucy laughs as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"I knew Heeseung wanted to fuck when he came up to you with that look in his eyes. He wanted you so bad, I'm telling you." Lucy says as you both walk back to the subway station.

Getting back to your hotel room, Lucy quickly rummages through her luggage for something presentable to wear for Sunghoon.

"Good thing we got waxed for this trip." Lucy jokes as she pulls out an over-sized button-up and a pair of biker shorts.

"I'm gonna rinse off the sweat from the concert. Feel free to look through my clothes if you don't have anything." Lucy winks at you before walking into the bathroom.

It was currently 11:56pm. Your weverse notifies you that a member of Enhypen was now live. Unlocking your phone, you click on the notification that brings you to the app and into the live. On the screen pops up Heeseung with his birthday cake. He's dressed in a black hoodie with the hood up. His dangly earrings sway every time he moves his head.

His bare face takes your breath away as you realize that you will be meeting with this man in less than an hour. You quickly rummage through your luggage for something to wear as the live continues playing in the background. Opting for something casual yet easily accessible, you pull out a pair of spandex and a hoodie. Opting for the only matching set you brought with you, the lacy white set begs for you to wear it and finally get some action. You weren't even sure what possessed you to bring a lingerie set in the first place, but you thanked the gods you did.

Lucy comes out from the bathroom dressed in her button-up and shorts. Her hair had been recurled slightly to give it a little more volume. You could tell she had retouched her makeup as well.

"Heeseung is live right now. I'm gonna rinse off as well and change." You tell Lucy as you walk into the bathroom with your clothes.

Lucy immediately snatches your phone and watches the live. Giggling as she realized the other members had entered and began celebrating with him.

After you get ready and make sure you have all your things, Lucy dials the number on the card. It was currently 12:23 am. The person on the other line asks for the hotel name and says that a car would be ready for them in 10 minutes.

Nerves settle into the pit of your stomach as the time inches closer and closer.

"Am I really about to have a one night stand with Lee Heeseung?" You ask Lucy who only laughs at your question.

"Yes. You're about to get a taste of South Korea." She winks at you before pulling you out the door and towards the elevator.

The entire ride to the hotel had your stomach in twists. Nerves eating at you as you enter the hotel Enhypen and their staff were currently staying in. You play with the hem of your hoodie as you both ride the elevator up to the floor the members are currently staying on.

"Sunghoon is in room 70G, and Heeseung is in 72G." The staff member informs you both as you reach the 7th floor of the hotel.

"Thank you." You say to the staff member as you exit the elevator.

Lucy holds your hand tightly as you walk down the quiet hallway towards the rooms. Your eyes scan the numbers on the doors, searching for the one that currently occupies the idol who had asked to meet you. You both reach 70G first. Meaning Lucy will be leaving you alone for the rest of the night.

"Have fun." Lucy winks at you before knocking on the door.

A moment later, the door is being pulled open by none other than Park Sunghoon himself. His eyes glance over at you for a second before going back to Lucy.

"Hi." He says quietly as he opens the door a little wider for Lucy to enter.

Lucy gives you a thumbs up before stepping in. Sunghoon bows his head slightly to you before shutting the door behind Lucy.

You mentally curse at yourself as you awkwardly walk to the room with 72G plastered on its door. Taking in a deep breath, you bring your hand up to knock on the door. You hear shuffling and the sound of someone walking over before the door is being pulled open. Heeseung stands before you with his hood still on the way you had seen it when you were watching his live earlier.

"Hi." You manage to squeak out as Heeseung's eyes look you up and down.

A different look in them now compared to the sweet eyes you had seen on his live. He smirks slightly.

"Hi." He says back to you before stepping aside and pulling the door open wider to allow you entry.

You nervously step forward and enter the hotel room. Heeseung closes the door behind you both and leads you further into the room. You see the partially eaten cake sitting on the desk and the fallen balloons on the second bed.

"Uh, I just ended the live not too long ago, so don't worry about the camera." Heeseung reassures you as he points at the camera that sits on the tripod in front of the cake.

You already knew that because your phone had been playing his live the entire time you were on the way over. He had ended the live before you reached his door.

"No worries!" You smile up at the man before you.

His height towering over your small frame as you awkwardly shift from leg to leg. Heeseung chuckles before taking your bag from your hand and setting it on the table behind him.

"So, what's your name?" He asks you as he sits down on the rolling chair and gestures for you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

You follow his lead and sit down before stuffing your hands in your hoodie pockets out of nervousness. Heeseung was wearing a pair of gray sweats along with his black hoodie that looked so good on him. His face looked 10 times better bare. His smile sent arrows into your heart, whereas his smirks sent a chill down your spine.

"My name is (Y/n)." You tell him as your eyes dart around the room.

Heeseung finds you cute as you try not to make eye contact with him.

He chuckles before getting up from the chair and standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as you look up at him from your seated position. The tension filling the air quickly. His eyes hooded as he looked down at you with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"You're very pretty." Heeseung compliments you.

He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face. Thumb pressed gently on your bottom lip.

"Is this okay?" He asks you.

You can't speak. Only nodding your head slightly.

"I need words, princess. Can I touch you?" He asks.

His voice two tones deeper than usual. The arousal clear in his eyes. You feel the butterflies swarming your stomach at the pet name.

"Yes." You say as you continue looking up at him with slightly wide eyes.

Heeseung smirks.

"Good girl." He says before pressing his thumb past your lips and onto your tongue.

You raise a hand up to wrap around his wrist gently. Closing your lips around his thumb, you suck on his finger. Heeseung chuckles at the sight of you.

"Are you gonna let me ruin you tonight, angel?" Heeseung pulls his thumb from your mouth to allow you to answer him.

"Yes, sir." You find yourself falling into submission for him rather quickly.

Heeseung's eyes darken at the name given to him.

"How do you like it, baby? I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable." Heeseung asks.

Reassuring you that he won't take advantage of you and will abide by your consent.

"I like it rough, sir. Wanna cry for you. Wanna make you feel good, sir." The confidence rising in you as Heeseung's eyes eat you up.

"Fuck." He groans before leaning down to crash his lips against your own.

Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping at the roots as one of his hands wraps around your throat gently, and the other slides up your hoodie to grip your waist. Pushing you down on the soft bed, lips smacking, teeth clashing, tongues colliding. The kiss is heated and messy as you both move further up along the bed to get into a more comfortable position.

Heeseung has his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you beneath him. His hand that grips your waist moves up slightly to touch the underside of your right boob. You sigh at the feeling of his some what rough hands on your skin.

"Take it off." Heeseung commands, gesturing to your hoodie.

You waste no time sitting up slightly to pull off your hoodie and toss it to the side. Your white lace bra cupping your tits perfectly on display for Heeseung to see. He moans slightly at the sight, his hands coming down to grope them.

"You look so pretty in white, angel. Is this all for me?" Heeseung asks.

You moan at his touch. Heeseung places kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Sucking harshly and leaving marks down your clavicle to your chest. One of his hands pulls down the lacy cup of the bra and frees your left breast. Nipples hard as your arousal kicks in. Your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

"Yes, sir. All for you." You moan out when he begins teasing your nipple.

Heeseung wraps his lips around the free breast, sucking and biting on your nipple while his other hand continues groping your other one. Giving both of your boobs plenty of attention. You feel the wetness pooling in your panties at the stimulation.

"So good, sir." You moan.

Praising Heeseung for the pleasure he's giving you.

Heeseung pulls away to slip off his own hoodie. Staring down at you with lust filled eyes. You admire his body. Lean and fit. His abs faintly showing and his v-line directing your eyes to his achingly hard cock straining against his sweatpants. Just the outline alone had you drooling. He was big. Long and thick.

Heeseung smirks down at you as he catches you shamelessly gawking over his naked torso.

You gulp slightly as you meet his dark eyes once again.

"You can touch me, angel." He chuckles.

Your hands move on their own accord as they roam down his chest. Feeling his hot skin beneath your palms. Every dip of his muscles. You were in absolute shock that you were touching one of your idols in this way.

Heeseung places a hand on your own, guiding you further down to where he wanted to feel you the most. Palming his hard on with your own soft hands, he groans at the contact.

"Was thinking about this the entire time I was performing. Saw you screaming so prettily for us. Wanted to hear you scream my name only." Heeseung tells you.

You gasp as he wraps your fingers around his clothed cock. Your thighs squeezing together underneath him.

"Wanna see you, sir. Wanna have my mouth full of you, please." You whine.

He smirks at your words.

"Anything you want, princess." Heeseung says before sliding off the bed to help you down on your knees.

You stare up at him through your lashes as you slide his sweatpants further down his hips and past his mid thigh. Dragging his briefs down with it. His aching cock springing up to gently slap at his lower stomach. The tip red and leaking with precum. His dick print did nothing in preparing you for his actual bare cock. It was a pretty pink with a few prominent veins from the base to the tip. He was long and fairly thick.

You lick your lips as you look up at Heeseung for permission to continue. He chuckles before pulling on your hair and holding it back for you.

"Go on, angel." Heeseung gives you the go.

You wrap a hand around his base, squeezing slightly to get a good feel of his weight. He hisses through his teeth when he finally feels your soft hands wrapped around him. His dark eyes never once leaving your dirty ministrations below him. You collect some saliva into your mouth before spitting on his cock. Using it as a lubricant to move your hand quicker up and down his dick. He groans as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. Sucking lightly and licking his slit. Your other hand comes up to grope his balls. Toying with them as your lips move further down his hard length. The feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him has Heeseung in a daze.

"Fuck. You're not an angel at all. You're just a filthy cock whore aren't you? Letting someone you don't even know fuck your mouth like this. I'm gonna fuck you so hard and ruin you for anyone else. Not even Jake would be able to please you like I will." Heeseung harshly says as he takes over and thrusts his cock down your throat.

You gag slightly at his sudden move. Not prepared yet to take him so far. Your eyes water as he pulls out of your mouth with his tip resting on your bottom lip. Heeseung smirks before slipping his cock back in your mouth, fucking your face for his own pleasure. You said you liked it rough so Heeseung was gonna give you just that.

You obediently sit on your knees and let him fuck your throat. Trying to relax your muscles as much as you could with him slipping further and further down. Your hands grip onto his flexed thighs, nails leaving an imprint on his fair skin as you try and breathe. The sounds of you gagging and Heeseung's groans fill the room entirely. You stare up at the man before you, looking god sent as he basks in the feeling of your mouth.

"Fuck me." He curses as he feels his orgasm approaching.

He looks down at your teary eyes, cheeks red and lips puffy. God, you looked so beautiful.

"Gonna cum for my cock whore. Are you gonna take it all, baby? Be my good girl?" Heeseung asks as his thrusts slow down slightly to grant you some mercy.

You nod your head, greedily sucking in as much air as you could before Heeseung decides to slip down your throat for much longer this time. Tears fall from your eyes at the sudden move. You couldn't breathe but you tried your best to get Heeseung to cum quickly.

He groans as he feels his orgasm washing over him. Releasing his cum down your throat.

"Fuck!" He moans out, throwing his head back at the feeling of his high.

He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still semi-hard as he watches you swallow his cum. A few drops dripping down your chin. Heeseung swipes his finger across your chin to pick up the rest of his cum that dripped past your lips. He slips his cum coated finger into your sore mouth, letting you suck the rest of it off. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all like a good girl.

"What a dirty whore." Heeseung smirks before pulling you onto your feet and crashing his lips against your own.

You whimper against his tongue that intrudes your mouth. Tasting you and his own cum on your tongue. His hands snake around your body and greedily unclasps your bra. You gasp against his lips at the feeling of your bare chest meeting the cool air of the room.

"The most perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." Heeseung compliments.

Pushing your body gently onto the bed, your back against the soft sheets. Heeseung pulls your shorts down, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties.

"I wanna taste you, baby. Will you let me have a taste?" He asks you as he lays in between your open legs.

Kissing up your soft thighs closer and closer to your needy core. You moan at the feeling of his soft lips against your warm skin.

"Yes, sir. Want you so bad. Please. Please. Please." You give him consent to eat you out.

Heeseung wastes no time in diving in. The sweet smell of you intoxicating his senses. He kisses your wet slit through your lace panties. The embarrassingly wet patch soaking through the thin fabric. Bringing his fingers up to your clothed pussy, he slips the thin material to the side allowing him to see your pretty pussy up close. Blowing slightly on your sensitive core, teasing you to wrap your thighs around his shoulders.

"Don't tease, sir. Please. Been so good for you." You beg him.

"Wanna take my time with you, angel. I don't know if I'll ever be able to have this pussy ever again." Heeseung says before licking a stripe up your folds to your clit.

Sucking on the sensitive bud, you moan out loud at the pleasure that travels up your spine. Your needy pussy finally getting the attention it wanted. Your right hand finds solace in Heeseung's hair, gripping harshly making Heeseung moan against your cunt. Your left hand grips onto the pillow you're currently laying on. The sweet pleasure sending you into a state of euphoria. You've never been the biggest fan of someone eating your cunt but the way Heeseung absolutely makes out with your pussy like it's the only thing he lives for has you on cloud nine.

"FUCK!" You scream out when you feel Heeseung's two fingers enter your tight hole.

His fingers curling just right against your warm walls. Lips sucking and tongue licking your pussy like a man starved. Heeseung watches your every expression. The way your eyes roll back and clench shut every time he sucks on your clit. How your head is thrown back when his fingers reach deeper inside of you. He probably enjoyed this more than you were. His cock already achingly hard once again at just your noises alone. The way you moan out curse words and his name.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to let you go after this. He was drunk on you and your body. The way it reacted to him had him praying he'd see you again after this.

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as Heeseung sucks harshly on your clit.

"DON'T STOP! OH GOD I'M GONNA CUM!" You tell Heeseung.

His fingers pump in slightly quicker to get you to reach your high. Heeseung is messy as he laps at your cunt. It only takes him one last pump of his fingers to have you tipping over the edge.

"FUCK ME!" You moan out as your legs shake around his shoulders.

Locking him in as he licks you through your orgasm. Your cum dripping out and around his fingers, staining his chin and the sheets below you both.

You whimper as the overstimulation settles in. Unlocking your weak legs from around his shoulders and pushing his head away from your sensitive pussy.

"Too much, sir." You weakly tell him.

The aftershocks of your mind blowing orgasm leaving you hazy.

"Tastes so fucking sweet, baby girl. Could eat you for the rest of my life." Heeseung says, sucking on his cum soaked fingers.

You bite your lip at the sight of him. His eyes are hooded and dark, his face filled with pure pleasure.

"Fuck me please, sir. Wanna feel your big cock stretching my pussy. It's all yours, sir. All for you, Heeseung." You whine.

Sitting up from your position, lips attaching to his once again to taste yourself on his tongue. Heeseung slips out of his sweats and briefs. Pumping his hard cock and pushing you back down on the bed. His lips never leaving your own as he pushes your knees up to your chest.

"Gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you're cumming around my cock, princess. Wanna see you cry for me like you promised. Make me the happiest birthday boy, yeah?" Heeseung teases you.

"Yes, please. Wanna give you the best birthday gift, sir." You tell him.

Heeseung pulls out a condom from the nightstand beside the bed. Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom onto his hard cock and aligns himself with your tight hole. You both gasp as the tip of his cock slips into your wet pussy. Not wanting to waste any more time teasing. Heeseung stares deeply into your eyes. Pushing your knees further down against your chest, he slips into you deeper. Moaning at the feeling of your tight and warm pussy wrapping around him, Heeseung slips a hand around your neck and lightly squeezes.

He bottoms out in your pussy, pushing all the way in in one swift movement. You whimper when you feel the tip of his cock push past your walls and kiss your cervix. He was definitely the biggest and thickest cock you've ever had. The slight pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"Please fuck me, sir. Want it rough. Wanna cum on your cock so bad." You say breathlessly as you stare into Heeseung's eyes.

"Fuck." Was all Heeseung could say before pulling out of your pussy and slamming back in to you roughly.

His hips move mercilessly as he thrusts into your soaking cunt at a pace that has you seeing stars. You weren't even sure where all this strength came from. He had just finished an almost 3 hour concert yet he was fucking into you like he had all the stamina in the world.

Heeseung's hand squeezes your neck tighter. His cock brushing against your womb with every thrust.

"So. Fucking. Tight." He groans out the words between each quick move of his hips.

The sound of skin on skin and your moans fill the hotel room. You completely forget that your best friend was also in the room next door probably also getting her back blown out by Sunghoon.

"Oh shit. Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!" You can't get a proper sentence out.

Heeseung was fucking you too good. It had been a while since you last got laid, but none of your past sexual partners could ever compare to Heeseung.

He truly was ruining you for anyone else.

"My dirty slut. Pussy so wet and welcoming for me. It's all mine. Say it. Say this pussy belongs to me." Heeseung let's his possessiveness run wild.

He knew you weren't his, but hearing you say it would push him closer to the edge. He needed to hear you say you were his.

"Fuck! It's all yours. This pussy is only yours." Your mind is hazy as the words spill out.

The tightening knot in your stomach about to break away. Tears fall from your glossy eyes as Heeseung tightens his hold around your throat.

"I can feel you clenching around me so tightly, princess. Are you gonna cum? Go ahead and cum all over me, baby. Wanna feel you cream my cock." Heeeseung says as he rests on his knees and pulls your hips higher to fuck into you at a different angle.

The change in position has the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot head-on. A loud moan rips from your throat at the new feeling.

"FUCK! I'm cumming." You let him know before you completely let go of the tight knot.

Your second orgasm washing over your body in waves. Thighs trembling by Heeseung's sides as both his hands move down to grip your waist tightly. He wasn't far behind you as he fucks you through your high and into overstimulation.

"Cum for me, sir. Please." Your eyes glossy, lips parted, and hair a beautiful mess against the white sheets.

Heeseung wishes he could take a picture of just how good you looked at this moment all fucked out on his cock.

"Shit." He moans out as he finally tips over the edge and cums into the condom.

His thighs clench tightly as he shoots his cum into the rubber. It flows out around the base of his cock and slides down the back of your thighs and to your ass. He couldn't believe he came so much that it leaked out from the condom. It's never happened with anyone else he's been with.

Letting your waist go, he leans down to connect your lips once again. This time, it was a little slower and more sensual. Not hungry or needy.

"Thank you." Heeseung says as he pulls away from you to stare at you.

You finally feel the shyness creeping back up on your face as you come out of your sex haze.

"For what?" You ask him after a few seconds of silence.

He smiles his dazzling smile down at you and pecks your lips.

"For giving me the best gift this year." He tells you.

You cover your face with your hands as the heat creeps onto your cheeks. Heeseung chuckles at your embarrassment and presses soft kisses to the backs of your hands and wrist. Gently prying your hands away so he could see you again.

He was still soft inside you, and you felt very sticky between your thighs, but you didn't mind because having Heeseung close to you like this was something you could only ever dream of.

"Let's get washed up, yeah? Then we'll figure out what to do next." He suggests.

You look up at him in slight shock. You expected him to just ask you to leave quietly after this, but his words insinuated he wanted to spend more time with you.

You agree to the washing up part, so Heeseung slips out of you and throws the used condom away. Heeseung asks you to join him in the shower, and so you do. He gently washes you and pampers you with soft kisses against your shoulders and neck. Making you cum for the third time that night on his fingers. Heeseung really couldn't get enough of you.

When you both finished and you were dressed in nothing but one of his large clean shirts, you two lay on the other bed in the room and get to know one another better.

You tell Heeseung about your job back at home, your family, your best friend that was currently still next door, and how you got into Enhypen.

Heeseung tells you stories of his life when he was a trainee, his time on I-Land, the other members, and even about his family.

You two were really getting close, and you hadn't even realized it was nearing 3 in the morning. Talking to Heeseung came easily. He wasn't judgemental and had a comforting aura that just made you feel welcome. You didn't feel like a fan and their idol.

Just you and Heeseung.

Two regular people.

"I don't think I can let you go after this." Heeseung tells you honestly as he looks over at you.

He had been playing with your fingers while you told him about a childhood story.

You feel your heart stop at that moment. Your eyes finding his own to see if he was just saying it to fuck with you or not. A nervous smile plays on his lips as he adverts his gaze to the ceiling. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you fully observe the actual beauty that makes up Lee Heeseung.

"I think we'll get in trouble if we keep in touch." You tell him.

He sighs and nods his head.

"I know. But.....you can keep a secret, right?" A mischievous look dances in his eyes as he finally looks over at you.

You smirk up at him.

"I didn't sign an NDA for no reason." You joke.

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.

word count: 6k...

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination. 

There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.

Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

Initially, there was clearly tension between you and Rafe.

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.

You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash. 

In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets.

Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.

Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the frustration growing in your chest.

He was so fucking insufferable. 

"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?"

He shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."

You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.

"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Rafe rolled his eyes, "C'mon,” he scoffed, "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."

You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness.

On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause.

There was no third chance. 

“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.

“I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"Keep your voice down."

The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom. 

As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards.

Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.

“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”

Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back.

Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.

“C’mon,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”

You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat. 

“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously.

Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a little hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within your reach.

As he guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving.”

Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave hiding a potential threat.

"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but still edged with that irritation.

"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."

You whipped your head around to glare at him.

“No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”

His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints.”

“At least they’re not murder—”

You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching again as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger you could feel radiating from him was answer enough to you.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency.

The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.

What could you possibly say? Apologize?

There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words.

It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.

You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past not letting you calm down the way you really wanted to. It was done.

And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t. 

Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like it was never ending, you hated every minute of it.

After what felt like an eternity, light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

The worst was over, for now at least.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike.

He was all focus still, that calculating side that had always unnerved you. 

You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.

“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, dulled by the exhaustion.

"We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."

“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”

He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”

The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end.

Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death. 

"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”

You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of guilt from what you’d almost said before.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you continued, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”

Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.

“If you say so.”

As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.

Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.  

You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.

“Helping you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness.

In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.

“Right.”

As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps. Traitor.

You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had expected, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.

"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.

He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”

With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps.

As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.

After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island.

The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.

"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."

“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.

"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."

His what?

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly hid your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a talent for getting what he wanted.

To pretend and lie his way out.

The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"

"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks. 

The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”

Baby?

He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway.

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.

“After you.”

You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.

"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."

You sank onto the edge of the bed, resting the mattress. “Better than my room back home.”

“Really?”

"Don't act so surprised. We're not exactly living in luxury over there."

You could see the realization click on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”

You shot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously? You'd actually sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."

You didn’t want to delve into that.

Instead, you only stared at him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none.

Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.

“Okay.”

With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.

Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind.

As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't ignore the possibility that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.

You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”

Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”

Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. 

He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. The sight of him trapped in a nightmare weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.

Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, wake up."

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear nearly knocked you out instantly but your body instinctively started against his hold as you struggled to break free.

Muscle memory and all.

"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for him to let go. But he was so lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.

Panic took over you as the world started to blur around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him again, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp.

“Rafe!"

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat disappeared, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed.

Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

It was a startling thing to witness , seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, instinct kicked in again,and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”

Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.

After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”

You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead.

“I know," you whispered softly, “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

You didn’t know why you offered him that solace.

"You do?"

You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light. 

"Yeah," you admitted, "They’re pretty bad too.”

There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.

Then, Rafe spoke again, "What do you dream about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression told you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once,

“Luke. You?”

Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."

You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing.

He wasn't like you.

“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."

"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded. 

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you.

“Don’t snore.”

“Not more than you do.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt bearable.

When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.

"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."

You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you.

Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.

You got up from the bed and stretched. You needed a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed yourself properly, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl.

You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.

As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a dream, washing away the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.

Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness.

Another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.

“Huh, good morning to you too.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”

Rafe stood there, leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction.

His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."

You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”

He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.

"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"

“Will you shut up?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall.

There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room.

The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.

“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.

You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast.

As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing him talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to go through life on his family’s wealth and influence.

But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.

When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan. Is your contact here, yet?”

“Nah, only tomorrow.”

“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”

“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”

"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"

Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”

You felt like there was more to the story.

“Oh.”

He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”

“Sure.”

You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?” 

“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant. 

You leaned forward as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”

“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catched you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness.

You straightened up as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his. 

"It’s not important," he snapped,"Just drop it, okay?"

You recoiled at his harsh tone, the way he spoke down at you making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this.

But you were feeling inspired.

“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration taking over your mouth.

You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”

"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted,"I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

The words stung like a slap to the face.

You felt the color drain from your face.

"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"

He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”

You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.

"You think I don't know that?" he growled, “You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"

His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face.

"You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”

"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."

Can't trust you, you think that's what he wanted to say.

“Right,” You swallowed, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”

His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”

"I don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch seemed to tingle between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely.

You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. Like he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can’t keep kissing me to avoid questions.”

"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I know," he murmured against your lips,"But for now, can we just...be?"

You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come. 

[girlystories]

Being the Bowers gang girl

*ೃ::Both platonic & romantic headcanon

– pairings: various x reader

addition warnings: swearing, bullying, very few depictions of sexism, few derogatory names, toxicity, abusive parenting.

words: 2.6k

this was entirely inspired by z0mbiekittyy, so please check them out!

Meeting/joining the gang

you were at first the quiet, loner girl who kept to herself, only having a few acquaintances, with very few friends.

it wasn't because you were a loser. only the opposite. everyone wanted to become friends with you or get to know you in some way but you never let anyone get close.

everyone had heard of you of course. when they realized you were different they stopped trying to read you or make their mind about you.

that was until greta keene couldn't get enough. she hated the attention you got. so one day she started spreading rumors about you.

it was relatively easy, since no one knew you enough to disprove them in any way. one word went to another and everyone in town now started talking shit about you.

despite that, you didn't care. you had your mind somewhere else. popularity and school drama weren't your thing.

you didn't mind hearing the remarks spat at you when you wandered the halls or when you were in class. you were completely and utterly unbothered.

word got fast that it even reached the all too feared bowers gang.

you were making your way to biology class when you were shoved against a locker, all your books falling one by one on the floor.

"well well well, if it isn't derry's most favored whore", henry was the first to indulge in the act.

he was followed by vic, or – as he liked to refer to him as his 'right-man', "hey, hank. why haven't we ever tried to mess with her before?"

you tried to back up slowly, but your back hit against another frame. when you looked up your eyes met with a pair of green ones, followed by an unsettling smile.

it seemed like no one noticed what was happening – or in better words, no one gave a shit about what was happening.

"dont worry, [name], we're not gonna kill you, jeez," belch revealed.

that made henry groan and turn his head towards his friend. "shut up."

patrick, still behind you, held onto your shoulders, which was very easy due to his height. "or we will, you will find out soon."

"both of you shut up," henry silenced them before it could escalate to something else. "so, how about you come with us for a ride? ya'know, get some air n' stuff."

"you mean like skipping school?", you asked.

"why? are you scared? I'm sure your reputation is as shitty as it can get. can't get any worse than that. even ours is better."

you shrugged, and just decided to follow them. just as you sat at your seat – between vic and patrick, you couldn't make out the read ahead of you, as they were driving recklessly. where you were, you hadn't the slightest clue.

they were laughing and howling, sometimes shouting at the drives passing by.

you? well, you were scared shitless. you clung onto your seat belt, and holding back the urge to start shrieking.

after a while you got used to it and had to admit deep down it was kinda fun.

when you stopped, you realized you were at a junkyard. they prepared a fire when the sun began to set down and opened some bottles of beer.

as you all circled around the fire you began to talk about whatever. you also found yourself to... tolerate them. or, better yet, even enjoy their company.

before you knew it, little by little you hang more and more with them, slowly becoming one of them. it was the first time you were a part of something. they felt like home and you could trust them, despite the hardships and more extreme emotional outbursts.

your reputation got even worse but you didn't care. you had found your people.

Activities

other than hanging out in the junkyard, you guys do other stuff (of course).

it's like you all live together, while you also don't. frequent sleepovers, meet-ups on each other houses take place, ect.

vic once convinced you all to go camping a few towns away. despite being the one who recommended the idea, he ended up despicing it. on the other hand, patrick who hated the idea ended up having the most fun. scaring vic by hiding bugs in his tent and pretending he was hearing bears or wolves. belch had enough and kept demanding they'd stop fighting, while you kept laughing at vic's reactions everytime. you never went camping again.

every morning belch picks everyone in order, first henry, then patrick, then you, and lastly – the sleeping queen himself: vic.

then, you make a stop at the local diner, everyone choosing their own specific order that the waitress had already memorized.

unless vic had a hangover from the party the day before, he wouldn't stop complaining about who-knows-what.

sometimes, when you were really bored, you'd go out of town in search of abandoned places, owning them for a while until someone else found them and ruined them almost immediately.

it was expected and common sense you'd show up at ever party. then you all would split for a while but meet up in order to leave. belch was in priority not to drink or get high until anyone else got a license. that's what you all agreed on but that possiblility seemed unlikely.

at school you avoided bullying anyone, but giving up on trying to stop them from terrosizing another kid since it was the only thing they ignored you on. the only time you fought back was to defend yourself. not that you needed to, but because you wanted them to know that you weren't as incompetent as you seemed.

when you had the change you'd shoot empty beer bottles with henry's dad's gun.

Henry Bowers

you and henry would share your deep wounds together. him about his alcoholic and insane old man, and you about your hard time fitting in, both in family and friends.

you would joke around, but to an extent. if you said the wrong thing he'd refuse to speak to you for days, weeks or maybe even months – depending how much it affected him. if he was too stubborn, vic would have to somehow find a way to talk him out of his bitchy attitude.

despite him trying to seem hard-shelled, deep down he was very sensitive. he knew you knew that, and he hated it. it was the only thing he hated about you except the fact that tend to be pushy sometimes.

he had never cried in front the guys, but one day he couldn't hold back when he was only with you. it happened only once, but he still feels humiliated about it and hopes you'd never bring it up. he made you swore to never tell anyone.

butch seemed to like you for a reason, only approving of you from the gang. he hated the rest. when you find yourself at their house, he'd warmly greet you.

at first he and patrick made a lot of sexist joke about you. later when he noticed you went silent you, he started using them less, only saying them once or twice.

always offers you cigarettes, and makes sure to buy your favorites.

sometimes (when he's not in a shitty mood) he pays for your food when you go at the diner without saying a word or giving you the chance to convince him otherwise.

all good things considered, let's be honest here cuz we all know he has more negative that good qualities.

for example; gets jealous super easily and gets mad at you for it, making you apologize for something that isn't your fault.

NEVER admits he's wrong. ever.

when you have a different opinion he tells you to shut up or straight up threatens you.

needs a lot of attention, while also can't have on his tail all the time, making him indecisive and confusing.

sometimes doesn't realize you need help and leaves you deal with your problems alone while you clearly do need some sort of hand.

still, you always have a way to be together again, unable to keep any distance between you both. on weekends you usually take the bus to his house, helping him with the choses around the farm.

Vic Criss

you and vic already knew each other from middle school. you were in the same class and he used to help you with homework.

then, when kids started growing up through that phase everybody did about that sort of rivalry against girls and boys. because of that, your 'friendship' fell apart.

you weren't really friends back then but you could've been.

he never admitted it but he always stared at you from away, wishing you would somehow start talking to each other again.

he was the one who convinced henry to approach you that day. the idea popped into his mind just as those rumors started going around.

he was glad henry agreed. even though he always did, he was anxious of saying no. later, he lied to you, saying it was henry's idea instead and that first interaction you had with him was henry's way of being kind (despite calling you a 'whore').

you and vic were close, in a different way you were with the others. he understood you better and he was very good at telling advice. he was also fun gossiping with. definitely the best when having a sleepover. the others found him annoying or bitchy about it, but with you he was himself.

he also was kinda subtle about his true personality, not showing his true small but intresting quirks only you knew.

speaking of gossiping, almost every weekend he crashed at your place, the excuse being his siblings giving him a headache, while his mom being 'a pain in the ass'.

everytime he had a problem with the others you would be the first to know. he was still henry's 'right-man', but sometimes henry was, well... henry.

at parties he'd get wasted and you'd be 100% sure he'd be found in the bathroom pucking his guts out.

you guys are so close he would be showering while you were doing your business at the toilet, gossiping about everything single detail.

still sometimes helps you with school after some persuation, but keeps reminding you that 'he is not your tutor'.

loves braiding your hair when you're hanging out, especially during class when it's something super boring (even for him).

Patrick Hockstetter

you were honestly pretty scared of patrick at first, and most definitely the only one from the gang who gave you the creepes.

the alligations weren't few, to say the least, and at first you kept your distance from him.

he also didn't try to make a move on you, which you found stange, yet grateful. maybe henry threatened him or something. either way you were considerably on good terms with patrick.

one day at school, while you were waiting for the other three to come at your usual spot during break, he offered you a cigarette. you received it with gratitude, since it was rare for an offer coming from patrick. he even stricked up a conversation, which was... maybe a bit thought provoking.

then he smirked – that one charismatic he wore when you would stop being able to read his mind. he was like a puzzle, but most pieces were missing or switched with incorrect ones. "are the rumors true?", he asked, closing his zippo with a 'click' after he light your cigarette.

"i dont think that you care if they're true or not," you answered back, the tobacco filling your lungs with nicotine.

clouds of smoke escaped his nostrils with each chuckle. "maybe."

on your ride home Black Sun Morning by Screaming Trees was playing from the radio and you found yourself singing alongside patrick. he rose his brows, "you know 'em?"

"duh, of course."

the next day on the ride to school, instead of gossiping with vic you ended up having a deep conversation with patrick about music. you never imagined that you'd be having a conversation about art with him of all people.

since then, you hit it off well. he stopped using sexist comments as well, and even attempted physical contact at the diner, brushing his fingers against your hair. when he realized you let him or try to stop him, he smiled to himself.

in the end you were usually seen together, you sitting on his lap during breaks or at the gym stands, in the car or diner. he would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. it was making the others sick.

sometimes you attempted to help him with homework, but he only agreed so you could just hangout. he wasn't really interested in attending college. the thing he was good at was certainly playing the guitar. both bass and lead guitar. vic jokes about him making a band but it something told you he didn't view it as a light joke.

one day he invited you to his house to show you his vinyls and discs. that's when you met his mother and was pretty surprised to find out she was vietnamese. he made sure to never speak vietnamese around you or the others.

when meeting you he became less... interested at the fridge at the junkyard, viewing it less and less. maybe therapy was starting to work out? even for a tiny bit.

extremely protective of you, especially at parties. makes sure to keep an eye out even though you wouldn't know it.

Belch Huggins

belch was the most chill and the most independent one of the gang. aways making sure everything was in check and going smoothly. it was no surprise he was super welcome to you and tried to make you at ease the first few weeks, asking you if you were okay or needed a ride home.

is a gentleman, of course. doesn't tolerance any disrespect towards you, no matter how small it may seem to you.

offeres to pay for you when going out, no matter how many times you don't let him.

one time you both got so drunk you couldn't stop laughing; your bellys hurting and your eyes filled with tears while your faces were bright red. it made henry mad (as usual) but it's a memory you'd never forget. you had no way to get back home, though.

on fridays you watch him play basketball, sitting at the stands, and smoking and encouraging him. sometimes vic or patrick came too, but it was very rarely.

he offers you the ball but you immediately decline, being reminded of the day the ball hit you in the face after you missed your shot.

you requested him to teach you how to drive, which was a bad idea honestly. at first you didn't understand his instructions at all, but when he asked you if you had any questions you lied saying 'no'. after that instead of stepping on going forward you accidentally went backwards, almost crashing his beloved trams-am that he named 'daisy'. then you turned the wheel too far, almost falling at a ditch before he saved you two.

swore that you'd never get a license in your life and forbid you anywhere near the wheel, not even the passengers seat.

his dad owes a workshop, fixing cars. he helped too, supporting him in any way he could. you also helped him here and there while he taught you the basics and answered any questions you had.

he promised that he'd let you fix a car entirely on your own without his help. he said he'd also let you keep it for free.

you have a drawer contained only of belch's clothes. at first you'd ask him to try his sweatshirts on. then you'd complain you were cold and he'd sigh, saying you could give it back another day. but you never did.

you loved it when he gave you biggyback rides. his, especially. he could never refuse, despise how tired he was.

[hedgehog-moss]

On the eve of planned nationwide demonstrations, I want to offer an overview of the ways the protests in France are being handled by the government so far (and if what you’ve heard is that this is over a 2 year increase in retirement age, please do take a minute to read this post to get a better idea of the context)

1. In Paris on March 21, a CRS (cop) threw a tear gas grenade in the air towards protesters (they’re supposed to throw them near the ground); the grenade landed and exploded on a protester’s head. (x)

2. Massive use of tear gas at every protest, on this vid from March 17 you can see the Place de la Concorde (largest public square in Paris) drowned in tear gas. (x)

3. In Paris on March 20, video of a CRS with a baton hitting protesters who are cowering against a wall (x)

4. CRS grabbing demonstrators in (illegal) chokeholds and dragging them by the neck (x)

5. In Strasbourg on March 21, police trapped about a hundred protesters in a narrow alleyway and tear gassed them from both ends of the alley so they couldn’t escape; an asthmatic person lost consciousness; people who lived there opened their doors and let the protesters enter their houses to get to safety. (x)

6. In Paris on March 20, a CRS shot a protester with an LBD riot gun (rubber bullets) and shouted at him “Pick up your balls now, fucker” (x) (an allusion to the several instances in recent years of protesters having testicle injuries from LBD guns - and non-protesters too, in 2015 a Muslim teenage boy lost a testicle after being shot by a cop with rubber bullets when he was shooting firecrackers in a park on July 14th / Bastille day). A few seconds later in the video another CRS tells the one who said that “careful there’s a camera”

7. In Paris on March 21, a group of 4 or 5 CRS who were dispersing demonstrators, threw a homeless man to the ground who had been shouting at them (hard to hear what he said, the first sentence is “How can you do this job?”), kicking him in the head while he was down and mocking him when he couldn’t get up, calling him a ‘fatso’ and ‘sack of shit’ (the woman you can hear at the end of the video is yelling at the CRS to help the guy get up and telling them “do you lack humanity to this point?”) (x)

8. That same day Macron gave a speech on TV in which he said “the crowd [= the protesters] has no legitimacy against the people, who express themselves through their elected representatives” even though he passed his reform without a vote from the elected representatives—and considering polls show the vast majority (>70%) of the country is against the reform, the “people” and the “crowd” are one and the same. Today (March 22) he gave another TV speech in which he compared what’s happening in France right now to the January 6 US capitol attack.

9. During today’s speech Macron also said “minimum-wage workers have never seen such an increase in purchasing power” which is a mad thing to say in the middle of a cost of living crisis, and he used the term ‘smicard’ in this sentence— the minimum wage in France is called the SMIC and smicard is a derogatory word for minimum-wage workers. He decried the “extreme, unregulated violence” of protesters but had nothing to say about the unregulated violence of his police forces, and instead stoked the fire with contemptuous language that angers people the day before a planned mass protest.

10. Hundreds of protesters (and even people who weren’t protesting but just nearby) have been arrested and taken into custody in “preventative arrests”; the vast majority were then released due to “absence of an offence.” Here’s a thread by a woman who was arrested in Paris along with 11 other women (one was a 17 year-old girl) for taking part in a peaceful protest. They spent 20 hours all in one cell, were only allowed to go to the toilet if they left the door open, were frisked and had their fingerprints and DNA samples taken. Also, in Nantes on March 14, four young women age 18-20 reported having been sexually assaulted by police during body searches while participating in a student protest.

And a thread by a 19-year-old Black student who spent 48 hours in custody last week along with 4 other people who were arrested in Paris as they were walking down the street. Lots of racist shit in this thread. He had already spent 14 hours in custody after a protest a couple of days before, and ended up being charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken.

This article in Le Monde from yesterday (it’s in French and unfortunately paywalled) talks about people who took part in last week’s protests having been handcuffed and searched in their underwear then released free of charges the next day; a lawyer comments how this is clearly meant to discourage people from demonstrating. The article also mentions two 15 year old Austrian boys who were on a class trip to Paris and were rounded up with a group of demonstrators, so the Austrian embassy had to intervene. (Journalist mentions sarcastically “We don’t know if these high schoolers’ DNA samples were taken.”)

11. There are videos from various protests of journalists wearing the press armband being threatened, hit, or shoved to the ground by police. In Montpellier yesterday, a journalist took this photo as a CRS was pointing his rubber bullet gun at his head and another was running at him with his baton telling him “I don’t give a fuck about your press card” —the photographer managed to run away. (x)

This is all from the past ten days (and mostly from the past two days) and far from an exhaustive list, there's so much outrageous stuff happening (like the Minister of the Interior lying and saying participating in an undeclared demonstration is illegal, when it’s not) but it gives a good idea of what French democracy looks like under Macron. The above photo says it all really. And thank you to all the people who continue taking part in the protests and strikes.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

MIDNIGHT TROUBLES

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

warnings: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used

A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)

part two: meet me at midnight | part three: its not midnight anymore

You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.

On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.

His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.

Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.

"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."

You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.

You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.

Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.

"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.

"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."

You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.

Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.

You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"

"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.

"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"

"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.

Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.

~~~

Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.

He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"

He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."

You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.

"What was that last part?"

"It's soft?"

"No, the other part?"

You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."

Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"

You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.

A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.

"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.

"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."

You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."

After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.

"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.

Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.

"Just paying you back for earlier."

You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.

Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.

Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?

Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.

Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.

You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.

"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.

"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.

The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."

What?

You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!

"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??

You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.

"It's y/n."

"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."

You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??

"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."

"I don't-"

She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."

WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?

The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."

Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.

What. The. Fuck?

The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.

"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.

"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.

Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.

It's dark and cold

You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.

He didn't deny it.

You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.

Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-

Your face crumples.

Luke.

He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.

Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.

A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.

And...

And its dark...

Shit.

Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.

That bitch better watch it.....

©strawberries-and-summer-days

a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!

[unholyhelbig]

Romanov smut??

[This is 18+, if you are a minor DO NOT INTERACT, I will report you.]

Title: Spin Cyle

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Warnings: Top!Natasha, Dom!Nat, Definate Mommy kink, semi-public sex, swearing, fingering (R recieving), derogatory names, pet names, Dom/sub dynamic, finger sucking, slight bimbofication if you squint [lmk if I'm missing anything], horrible grammar.

Summary: Reader is working the overnight shift at the laundromat when a mysterious stranger comes in with motives that are clear from the start.

[A/n: And so what if I have thing for laundromats? They're comforting, okay? I like writing fluff but sometimes you just really have to get in there. ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Spic & Span was one of the only laundromats left in a city that swarmed around a university, so it was always teeming with people. Between classes, students with headphones on and powder laundry soap would occupy the tables that pockmarked the large space.

No washer nor dryer were the same; some were a beautiful turquoise, with rusted patches on the front. Others were a sickly olive green that had once been coveted among housewives. They all seemed to function perfectly despite their age; but it was your job to make sure they did just that.

The usual shift you worked was 8:00pm to 8:00am, and aside from the stray kid here or there, it was mostly a silent endeavor. Since starting six months ago you had torn through at least fifteen novels, and when you grew bored of that, you moved onto movies that would hold your attention until the small bell above the door sounded.

You’d learned quickly that when people were doing their laundry, they were looking for peace. It was a tedious chore and the last thing they needed was someone breathing down their neck. Sometimes, there was the occasional person who was looking to chat, which you obliged to eagerly in order to break the silence.

It had been a clear, but cold, evening when she first came in. With none of the machines in use, the only mechanical buzz came from the vending machine in the corner that offered up stale snack-cakes and off brand soda.

Out of habit, when the bell sounded, you leaned back in the office chair and peaked around the doorframe into the main space. You were designated to the small room that had a desk, and place to sit, but was mainly a storage closet. The mini-fridge was sidled up next to a mop bucket that smelled so thickly of musk, no one tended to use either.

The woman didn’t look familiar to you. Over time you had gotten to know the regulars, and you were certain that you would remember her. Even under the harsh overhead lights, you clocked her beautiful complexion, her focused green eyes as she dug in her pockets for change. Her hair was an electrifying red, lips pursed together in frustration.

She didn’t’ have a laundry basket with her, nor her own soap. It seemed as if she were entirely unprepared to do any type of wash, and that made your fingers twitch nervously. You watched, cheeks heating up, as she stripped her shirt off and loaded it into the machine.

Goosebumps rose on her perfect skin, yet, she didn’t’ seem to mind; and holy shit, she was sporting a tight pack of abs. She shimmied her pants off and you forced yourself to look away. This was wrong. Admiring a gorgeous figure was one thing, but you refused to let your eyes linger.

Instead, you went back to your book, reading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words were sticking. All you could think about was the curve of the woman’s mouth, how good it would feel to have it kiss every inch of your body, leaving little bruises in her wake. You were hopeless.

“Excuse me?”

The book flew from your hands, crashing onto the linoleum as you placed both feet firmly on the floor. She had been quiet in her endeavor to find you, to find anyone. It was nearly unnerving how she had wandered over undetected.

She was clad in a black lace bra and a pair of sweatpants that hugged her tightly and left little to the imagination. The amount of skin she was showing didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had flustered you.

“I think the soap dispenser ate my quarters.”

“Yeah, yes, uh” You shot to your feet at a dizzying speed “it does that. I have… key.”

She lifted both of her eyebrows at you, and you swore that you saw her smirk. You scooted past her, and she made no attempt to move. You could feel her body heat, your front pressing against hers. You did your best to mentally scold yourself for the reaction your body had to the proximity of hers. She smelled like vanilla, like something more biting that you couldn’t place your finger on. The stranger tracked your every movement.

“Just you tonight?” She asked, voice lilted.

You hummed nervously in response before heading over the small manual vending machine that would dispense little packets of soap if you had chosen to use it on the right day. She followed closely behind you, and you felt her heated stare as you unlocked the case.

“Pick your poison.”

“Mm, what do you recommend?”

“Um,” You turned, her eyes were glinting mischievously, arms crossed over her chest. It  was almost painful keeping yourself modest in this situation. You refused to let them wander, but squeezed your thighs together to dispel the thoughts. “Tide.”

“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”

The woman reached forward and grabbed the suggested package. She didn’t’ wait for your response. Instead, she sauntered back over to her machine.

Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, and it was hard to lock the soap back up without fumbling. You’d dropped the keys twice before picking them up and succeeding in your task. Building up the confidence, you turned to ask if the woman needed anything else, but were once again, stilled in your movements.

She shimmied out of her sweatpants in a painstakingly slow manner. It was deliberate, you were sure, and if you weren’t than the salacious eye contact she made with you while straightening up and throwing her sweatpants in with the rest of her load confirmed it.

She was wearing the slightest bit of fabric in a black lace that matched her bra. Your eyes betrayed you, scouring her head to toe for any imperfection, but you found none. She was utterly perfect.

This had to be some type of test. There were hidden cameras somewhere and your overnight job that paid you a measly 7.50 an hour was trying to test your morals. This was the devil, and she was in lingerie, lilting her head at you expectantly.

“Damn it all,” She cooed, frowning down at the machine “It seems I don’t know how to work this thing at all. Every machine is different, you know? I might need a little help.”

Fuck.

You must not have moved because a few moments later she let out a breathy chuckle. “That is your job, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

She smelled like spiced coffee, something you caught a whiff of because she didn’t attempt to step back when you joined her. There was an immense body heat radiating from her, and you fought back a whimper when her hand touched the base of your spine. She was peering over your shoulder. She simply hadn’t pressed start- but you weren’t going to tell her that.

Instead, you savored the sparingly tantalizing touch and hit the button yourself. A low whirring filled the room. It was a sound that you were more than familiar with. The cycles of the washing machine were counted as easily as your own breaths.

“Dense, aren’t you?”

“hmm?”

You felt your cheeks redden as you turned to face her. Your back was flush against the machine, replacing her hand on your spine. You instantly missed her touch. She was so close to you now, but still took another step closer as if you could climb into the washer to avoid her.

“Sweet girl, I’ve thrown every hint at you in the book.” Her fingers came up to the collar of your shirt, dancing at its hem, right past the fabric until they left blazing trails on your collarbone. You clenched your eyes shut, letting out a shuttered exhale. “While I do love a woman with manners, must I ask?”

“I’m not sure I… understand.”

She whispered against your lips, not quite touching “You’re much too tightly wound, darling. Do you want mommy to take care of you?”

No one has ever asked you this before. Most of your partners, while satisfying, wouldn’t dare murmur anything close to what this stranger had just said. And you were much too shy to ask. Instead, you settled for spicy romance novels, and a magic wand that never seemed to itch that insatiable scratch.

“Don’t be so shy now. I saw the novel you were reading earlier. It’s just such a coincidence that it’s just the two of us here.”

Your forehead was pressed against hers and you stared into intense fern-colored eyes. God, you wanted her to take you right here, right now. There was something much too scandalous about fucking in the open, a feeling that you wanted to capture and savor.

“All you have to do is ask.”

You swore there was a slight Russian lilt to her voice. The more she got worked up, the more in was shining through. Her breath was quickening in pace with yours, the proximity of her making you press your thighs together to quell the excitement that threatened to drip through the fabric of your pants.

“Please,”

Her hand came up and gripped your chin in a fluid movement, manicured fingers squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. “Please what, Kotenok? What do you need from mommy?”

“Touch me,” It came out as a whimper that was much too desperate for you liking, “I need to feel you.”

An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat before she pushed her mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You parted your lips, groans muffled by her tongue swirling around your mouth. She tasted like coffee, the same you had smelled earlier.

She reached down and ripped your shirt open, the pearlescent buttons popping away and scattering under the many machines around you both. You didn’t have much time to protest the destruction of your shirt before she palmed your breasts.

There was a mischievous look in her eyes at the front latching bra you wore. “Wow, you really are a little desperate slut, aren’t you?”

She unhooked and discarded the garment before you could get out more than a hungry noise. Her lips attached to one of your nipples, her hand grasping the other breast and giving it an almost-painful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing more of yourself into her hot mouth. Her tongue licked away the goosebumps raising against your skin in response to her ministrations.

You would have done just about anything for her at this moment, her fingers delicately ghosting over your stomach at the waistline of your jeans. Each shuttered breath pushed you closer to her.

In a swift movement she lifted you onto the top of the washing machine. You weren’t prepared for the bout of strength, nor the spin cycle that was happening below you. Another whimper escaped you and she looked at you with a wolfish smile.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you dare think about cuming on top of an appliance.” She squeezed your hip and you took the cue to lift yourself enough for her to pull your jeans down and discard them with your panties. “Though, it appears your wet enough at the idea.”

A downright beautiful woman had you sweating and naked on top of a washing machine, promising to take care of your every need, no matter how salacious it was. Of course you were wet, dripping, actually.

Still, you flushed when she worked a single finger up your slit, testing it for herself. You shivered at the simple gesture, falling close to her. You felt her chuckle at your expense. “Mm, Kotenok, so desperate.”

Her thumb brushed against your cheek, you could smell your own sex on her fingers. She’d barely touched you, yet they were soaked. They traced your lips and you parted them on the silent command. There was a satisfied look on her eyes, at how easily you had folded for her.

You sucked her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Her stare was starving. “God, you’d look amazing choking on my strap, darling. I’m sure it’d stretch you out nicely.”

You groaned against her fingers, something that sounded along the lines of ‘fuck’ escaped you. Her other hand dipped lower, a gentle touch brushing against your clit. Your breath hitched, and you fell forward, you head on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you garbled, careful not to bite down on her fingers, but thankful that they muffled your expletives. “I want to cum.”

“Mm, but darling, you have to let mommy have her way with you, no matter how long it takes. That’s what good little whores do. That’s what toys do.”  

God, you’d do exactly that, anything to sate the need that made you want to buck desperately against the machine under you. It’s vibrations were slowing, but that didn’t stop your crude wanting to climax.

Without warning, the woman inserted a single digit into you. A gasp sounded around her fingers. She curled her touch inside of you and you pressed further into her. A fine sheen of sweat coated you both, the laundromat hot during the late summer night.

“You’re so tight.” She chuckled again, “Are you sure you can handle another?”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, pet?”

“Yes… Mommy.”

She was conditioning you with her words, and that much was clear, but you didn’t seem to care. This stranger had sauntered into your place of work and now had you under her full command with a few simple touches and an effective edging technique.

Another finger pushed into you, and you started to push down further into her. You weren’t sure what she saw in you that made her approach you like this. It had to be more than the novel, plenty of people indulged in smut. Maybe it was the desperation- your need to please in the most mundane of situations.

“Good girl,” she growled against the small of your neck, finally pulling her fingers from your swollen lips. You missed their taste, their feel against your tongue. “I’m sure you can handle a third, you desperate little slut.”

“I can,” You stuttered, tightening around her as she did just as promised. She flexed them inside you, drawing a whorish moan from the back of your throat. The woman started to pump slowly, at first, in and out of you until you felt something build in your core.

You hugged her close, the scratchy fabric of her bra pressing against your nipples, drawing them to points with their expert pressure. The sensation was phenomenal, something you never wanted to end. You hugged her close, your nails digging into the warm expanse of her back.

“Ask nicely, sweet girl.” She growled in your ear.

“Can I please cum?” You clenched your eyes shut, she quickened her pace, the word came out broken, but you didn’t care if you sounded like you were pleading, you absolutely were. “please. I’ll do anything.”

You could feel her smile against your shoulder “Go on, slut. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

Her declaration was all you needed to finally give in to her attentive movements. The feeling that was building so deliciously in your core finally released in the most mind-boggling orgasm you had ever had. You silenced your own scream in her shoulder, but it could only do so much. You were thankful it was just the two of you in here, or your shame may have overtaken you.

She continued to pump in and out of you with her fingers, flexing and curling them expertly as you rode out your climax. You were shaking against her, nearly crying into the small of her neck when she pulled out of you entirely, wiping the slick on her fingers against your thighs.

Perhaps too kindly, she let you breathe against her for a moment, catching your bearings, her hand dragging against your bare back with a comforting amount of pressure. She was proud of herself, that much was clear in her movements. She knew in that moment that she was the best you had ever had; quite possibly the one person who you’d compare all the rest to.

The washer let out an unceremonious beep that had you chuckling, finally pulling back enough to see the woman’s face, shocked to see a bit of admiration behind her eyes. She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“Hm,” she hummed, giving you a dazzlingly genuine smile. “I guess the spin cycle is over.”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Otherwise known as Seven Minuets in Heaven Part. 2 ;)

Find Part One Here!

Dating isn't easy, and falling in love is even harder. Ryomens love for you isn't up for debate, you're the only girl he's ever felt this way about. What is questionable though is if he's ready to leave his playboy life for you. Were diving back into the Modern Day Frat Boy AU

Warning: This fic contains smut, fingering, cunnilingus, a creampie- you know the drill, as well as Hurt/Comfort, possessive themes (especially in the smut), yandere themes if you squint, and a very much unwanted kiss. Reader discretion is advised <3

It’s surreal just how many times a heart can break before it shatters. How many times you can watch your boyfriend, who swore oh so many times that you were his one and only, flirt with truly breath taking girls before you finally snap. How many times you can accept the unacceptable before it feels like a full body breakdown, before you’re hiding in your room, crying into his hoodie because despite everything he was still so comforting to your stupid heart that still hadn’t caught up with your brain in terms of relationship status. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. This story technically starts four months ago, and about a week after your first personal encounter with Ryomen Sukuna. 

“Hey man, are you gonna eat that?” Gojo asked, pointing to Ryomens waffle. Sukuna barely looked up from his phone before pushing the plate over to the white haired man, who took it greedily. The act caught the attention of group empath (derogatory) Suguru Geto, who raised an eyebrow at Ryomen from the other side of his coffee cup.

“You feelin’ ok man?” He asked, setting the mug down.

“She still hasn’t responded to my text, but she read it. Is this what getting ghosted feels like?” Ryomen asked, finally looking up from his phone, “This shit blows, why do I keep doing it to people?” 

“Because you’re a creep.” Nanami said without thinking from behind his book, ignoring the glare from both Suguru and Sukuna.

“Is this about the girl from the party?” Geto questioned, failing horribly to hide his genuine shock. “You haven’t moved on yet?”

“Can’t blame him, she was hot as fuck.” Gojo pointed out, not even bothering to swallow the food in his mouth. A move that would backfire when Suguru hit his back, causing him to choke. 

“It’s not for a lack of trying!” Ryomen said, pointedly ignoring Satoru, “Trust me, I have. I even tried hooking up with that one girl from the Kappa Phi Beta sorority, fucking....” He snapped his fingers to try and remember her name, “Yuki? I think?”

“And?” Gojo asked.

“I couldn't go through with it!” He snapped, more in frustrated with himself than anything else, “I felt like…wrong about it, like dirty. I faked a stomachache to get her to go home.”

“Uh huh.” Suguru said, sharing a concerned glance with Gojo. “Go on.”

“The whole time I was just thinking about Y/n.” He sighed, now earning Nanamis attention too, “About what she would think, and what if she finds out and it hurts her, I just…I couldn't do that.” Ryomen grumbled, resting his cheek on the table. It felt good to vent. Until he realized all three of his friends were looking at him as if he had just grown a second set of arms and two more eyes. “What?” He asked.

“Ryomen…” Suguru started slowly, trying to think of how to put this gently, “You…are a fucking moron.”

“Poor bastard..” Nanami muttered, shaking his head.

“This bitch got his dick wet once and fell in love.” Satoru laughed. Ryomens entire soul flinched at the suggestion, and panicked at the notion it could be right.

“No, absolutely not, that’s insane.” He insisted, sitting back up. “I’ve known her for like, a week! Who falls in love in a week?!” Frat boys in fan fiction, thats who.

“Then why are you getting so caught up in the fact she hasn’t texted you back?” Suguru asked. This was not helping Ryomens panic.

“Because it’s weird! Normally girls text me back immediately.”

“Right, so why does it matter so much that this one hasn’t?” 

“Because…because!-”

“Because you’re in love.” Gojo giggled.

“Say that one more time Satoru and I’ll put Nair in your shampoo bottle.” Sukuna threatened. Satoru was suddenly very quiet.

“You still haven't answered the question,” Geto reminded him. 

“It’s because I don’t want the other girls to text me back! I want her to! I want her attention, I want to talk to her, I want- Oh god damn it.” His ramblings turned into a near whine as he dropped his head into his hands at the realization. Suguru patted his back, trying to be comforting. 

“It’s okay man, it happens to the best of us.” He assured him. He handed him his coffee cup, “Here, try this. It might help.” Ryomen had no fucking clue how black coffee was supposed to help, so of course he had to try it. The moment it hit his tongue he realized why it was supposed to help, almost spitting the drink out at the shock of the flavor. That wasn’t coffee. He looked up at who claimed to be the responsible one.

“Fucking Kahlua?” He asked. Geto shrugged.

“Technically its a black russian, so some vodka too.”

“Suguru It’s seven am.”

♥️♥️♥️

Two weeks after that conversation, you still hadn’t left that poor fools mind. "Either I didn't hear you right or you've picked up a coke habit." You scoffed. He shook his head.

"Nah, coke's a rich person drug. A lowly college student like me can only afford crack."

"They're the same thing, different forms."

"Tell that to the law." He shrugged. You dropped the argument there, knowing he had a point. You just rolled your eyes.

"Then I must not have heard you correctly." You groaned, "why are you inviting me to go fuck at your dorm at," you checked your phone, "8:17 AM?" He grinned and you wanted to punch him in the face. That grin never failed to make your heart flutter and squeal and want to marry him. Stupid fucking heart. 

"I never said hook up, I asked if you wanted to go on a date.” Ryomen clarified, “Like, to go get lunch or something.” And this is where your confusion came in. You had been casually sleeping with Ryomen for a few weeks now, which was fun. But you had convinced yourself he would never want anything more. Why would he? You thought he had a roster of beautiful women getting in and out of his bed, why would he give that up to be with just one? It didn’t make sense to you.

“Ryomen, I thought we agreed we were going to keep it casual.” You reminded him. It was the unwritten contract the two of you agreed to when you started hooking up. It was to keep both of you from getting hurt feelings. He sighed and raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, not a date.” He paused for a second, “Hey, do you wanna like, go get dinner tonight, maybe catch a movie and then head back to mine?” He asked. You felt a blood vessel pop. At this point in your “relationship” with him, you were almost positive the only thing he kept behind those pretty doe eyes was the god damn audacity.

"Ryomen, that sounds like a date." You pointed out.

"Does it?" He played dumb, "well, if you insist we can make it a date." He fucking grinned again. 

"No." 

"Oh come on!" He said it loudly enough to earn a sharp shush from the teacher, reminding him that other people were here to learn not date. He rolled his eyes and returned to a whisper. "What's the worst thing that could happen if you go out with me?" He asked.

What's the worst thing that could happen? Easy: You fall in love. You already knew you liked him way more than any reasonable person would or should. His sense of humor fell in line perfectly with yours, you had similar taste in music and movies, and you knew that he was more caring than he would ever care to admit; a trait you noticed from watching him interact with his friends. To top it all off, he was smart as hell, and he was about as beautiful as God said the Devil would be. He was fucking dangerous, and so easy to love, you couldn't blame any of the girls that fell before you.

And that was the issue. Ryomen had a vice, and it was women. You’d seen it in action on campus, the way past flings would come up to him to try and rekindle something that was never lit in the first place. And he ate that shit up. He loved basking in the attention given to him, and if it made you jealous now, you couldn’t imagine the fights you’d get into if he was officially yours. And you really didn’t need a criminal record.

"What's the worst that could happen?" You reiterated, "I get Syphilis."

"I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but if that was the case you'd already have it." He chuckled. Yeah, you walked right into that one. You pinched the bridge of your nose, repressing the urge to yell at him that it was way too early for this shit.

"Ryo-"

"I love it when you call me that." 

"-Men, Ryomen let me finish," you groaned, "I'm really trying to pay attention here, can you just drop it?" You sighed in exasperation. 

"Sure, if you agree to go out with me." He smirked. 

"Why are you so desperate for this date?!" You struggled to maintain a whisper, "Isn’t what we’re doing right now enough? You’re already getting what you want out of me, why do you want more?" 

Ryomen felt himself shatter, like a wine glass being forced to endure Mariah Careys’ high note. He thought the two of you had moved past your perception of him as a fuck boy using you for you body but, apparently not. Did you not know? Did you not know you were the only woman that was allowed to sleep in his bed? The only girl who he brought to just casually hang out with his friends? The only person in the world that he had ever cuddled with? He didn’t talk about his after graduation plans with any of those other girls. He didn’t talk about his little brother, or why he was a business major to them. He didn’t stay up all night talking to them because he just wanted to hear their voice. All of that was reserved for you. You had no idea just how special you were to him.

"Because I don't just want your body, I want you!" He said just a little bit too loudly. Great, now people were looking, "You've all I've been thinking about for weeks, do you know how weird this is for me?! I'm going crazy over you, and you won't even give me a chance, You won’t let me prove to you that you’re important to me!” You could feel the eyes of the classroom drill into you, and it made you want to shrink away. Something had to give.

"If I agree to go on one, count them, one" you held up a finger for emphasis, "date with you, will you shut up?"

"Without hesitation."

"Fine, then shut up." You chastised him.

"Wait, so is that a yes?" He smiled wide, and if he was a dog his ears would have perked up.

"That's not shutting up!" You reminded him, "it's only a yes if you don't say another word this entire class period." He beamed as he nodded, giving the universal sign for 'My Lips Are Zipped' as he settled into his seat, and you wondered what the hell you had gotten yourself into.

♥️♥️♥️

“You dress way too extravagant for him.” Mei Mei sighed as she saw your outfit. You didn’t see where she was coming from. A tight, albeit plain, black mini dress with pumps was hardly what you would call extravagant. Though, you supposed in the context of your typical wardrobe it was quite the contrast. But, this was your fifth date with Ryomen, and he told you to dress nice. You thought back to your one date stipulation, and almost laughed. You really didn’t expect that first date to go so well.

“Aren’t you the one that told me there’s nothing wrong with dressing up for a date?” You asked as you finished putting on your earrings. She rolled her eyes as you threw that back at her.

“Yeah, if you think your relationship with the guy might actually go somewhere it’s fine.”

“Who’s to say my relationship with Ryo won’t go somewhere?” You scoffed as you turned to her. She scoffed back.

“Ryo?” She all but sneered, “Gross. And it won’t go anywhere because it’s Ryomen Sukuna. He’s like, the literal definition of manslut. He’s going to break your heart Y/n, and you’re not even his official girlfriend. You’re his toy.” Mei muttered. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew her condescension came from a place of concern. Mei Mei had been with a lot of guys, and had her heart broken by even more. You almost took what she said into consideration. Then you remembered she had never really expressed concern for you before your situationship, and quickly brushed her off.

“He’s waiting for me.” You smiled at her as you left your shared dorm. You found him standing outside the building, exactly where he said he’d be. He always looked handsome, but tonight he looked damn near dashing. The black dress shirt and slacks worked for him, especially with the sleeves rolled up. He grinned when he saw you, and your heart squealed like a school girl in a shoujo anime. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t walk a little faster to get into his arms.

“Hey gorgeous,” He laughed as he picked you up in one of his signature bear hugs. You could get lost in the comfort of his arms. He sat you down with an adoring smile. 

“Hey Handsome,” you winked, “Ready for our date?” He was taking you to a super upscale restaurant downtown. One of those places where you have to make the reservation like, a week in advance and pay way too much for not enough food. Admittedly, it made you kinda nervous.

“No, not at all,” His confession was disguised with a joke. He was as nervous as you were. “I have to give you something first.” By the power of plot, it was only then that you noticed the thin box in his hand. He lifted it up, presenting it to you as if he was a jeweler as he opened it. You didn’t quite process what you were looking at at first. It was a small white gold, cursive R with small rubies embedded into the stem of the letter. The pendent hung from a dainty white gold chain, and every ounce of your poor kid blood just knew that necklace cost more than your parents rent. 

“Ryomen, what the fuck?” You asked, not fully processing the situation.

“I like to mark what’s mine.” He shrugged with a devilish smirk, “You don’t have to take it, but I bet it would look good on you.” 

“I look good in everything,” You said, taking it out of the box to admire it. It really was a beautiful piece of custom jewelry. Your first reaction was to reject the gift. Gifts like these didn’t come without conditions, expectations. You knew that by accepting the necklace, you were accepting Ryomen. You couldn’t deny your situation anymore, couldn’t delude yourself into thinking the two of you were less than what you were. You’d have to accept the reality in front of you, the future in front of you. You looked at him and felt the smile tug at your lips. “Will you put it on me?” 

“Gladly.” He said, trading you box for necklace. As he fastened the ornate safety clasp around your neck, he leaned down. “I trust you know this means you’re my girl, yeah?” He whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You hummed, placing a hand on his head to hold him still while you kissed his cheek. Mei Mei was gonna be pissed.

♥️♥️♥️

“Look, we’ll only be there for like, thirty minuets,” Sukuna groaned, rubbing his temple with his left hand. “ABO is throwing the party, so all of us have to show some face.”

“Do you have to show some face, or sell some weed?” You asked, crossing your arms as the two of you walked down the street. In the two months you had been with Sukuna, you had been to more parties than you could count. Which was really starting to stress you out, considering you fucking hated parties.

“Why cant it be both?” he sighed.

“You still haven’t explained why I need to come.” You huffed, pulling down your short dress. You had been trying to put more effort into your appearance lately, and experimenting with just how much skin you were comfortable showing. Sometimes you got it right, sometimes you didn’t.

“I told you babe, guys are fucking idiots. They wanna buy drugs from the guy with the prettiest girl on his arm, and when you’re with me, I’m always that guy.” He smirked, hoping that was going to diffuse the situation at least a little bit. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

“Really? You’re flirting with me? Right now?” You scoffed.

“It was worth a shot, right?” He shrugged. 

“I’m going to fucking bite you!” you threatened, stopping in your tracks to emphasize how pissed off you were. He sighed again as he stopped and turned to face you. He put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, fighting the grin that came up as he noticed the slight shock on your face. He managed to suppress it though, and put his puppy dog eyes into action for evil.

“I know you don’t want to go babygirl, I’m sorry,” He murmured to you, ghosting the back of his knuckles along your jawline, “But will you go? For me? I’m only asking for thirty minuets.” Fuck. Fuck. This was a dirty tactic and he fucking knew it. You sighed, dropping your forehead onto his chest, and hugging him back as he pulled you into a proper embrace.

“Fine, but…can you promise me you’re not going to flirt any other girls there? Or let them flirt with you?” You muttered.You didn’t just hate parties for the drunken social aspect of them, though that was a part of it. No, you hated them because they always started fights in your relationship. Normally, you loved being with Ryomen. He was sweet and caring, and you knew he loved you. But he also had a problem with leading on other girls. 

You knew his attention whore antics would be a problem, and while you believed him when he said it was never physical- just flirting, that he didn’t even realize he was doing it, it always hurt you anyway. There was always a seed of doubt that it wasn’t as subconscious as he claimed. That maybe he didn’t love you as much as he said he did.

“Of course baby girl, you know you’re my one and only.” He promised, wrapping his arm around you as he walked you to the fraternity house. You had a sinking feeling in your soul this was a bad idea, one that only got worse as you saw all the drop dead gorgeous women in the room.

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab us some drinks, want anything?” He asked, knocking you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah. I’ll come with.” You said, following Ryomen to the kitchen. There sat Nanami in his designated spot behind the bar, half heartedly listening to an art major talk about the impressionist movement. He was nodding along like he understood, like he was engaged, but there was no light behind his eyes. You felt bad for the art major. 

Ryomen grabbed two cups of the frat jungle juice for the two of you. You took yours and quickly started to chug without even considering who made it, and almost immediately gagged at the burn. You managed to choke it down after a fight for your life. “What the hell is in that?!” You snapped.

“Oh, Suguru made the juice this time,” Nanami said, taking any opportunity to leave the art history conversation, “It has like, an entire bottle of everclear in it.”

“An entire bottle?” You asked in disbelief, “Is he okay?”

“No.” Nanami scoffed, as if you should know. 

“Hey, Ryomen!” Satoru laughed as he and Suguru spotted Sukuna. They walked into the kitchen. “And Y/n!” Gojo gasped when he saw you, always shocked to see you at these events no matter how many you attended. He ran over and hugged you, causing you to chuckle softly and Ryomens eye to twitch. He quickly got in between you two, pulling you from Satorus arms and into his. Gojo rolled his eyes, but otherwise let it go.

“I’m glad you could make it!” He smiled.

“I always do,” You laughed to hide your frustration with that statement. 

“We’ve got a beer pong table set up outside, wanna play?” Suguru asked. There was a beat before you realized.

“Wait, me?” You asked, a little shocked. You fully expected him to be talking to Ryomen.

“Yeah, you,” He chuckled, “You’re our Fraternity Sweetheart, we gotta show you off somehow, right?”

“She is not the frat sweetheart.” Ryomen scoffed before you could process the information. 

“Oh yes she is!” Gojo declared, “Everyone on campus knows it!” Everyone except you apparently.

“No, shes not!” Ryomen insisted. He hated that they called you that. It made him feel like he had to share you with them, a thought that made him actively violent. They could find some other sorority sister to be their sweetheart, but you were his. “Nanami, back me up here.”

“Sorry man, I’m with the boys on this one.” He shrugged, “She’s at all of our events, she’s here every weekend, the chapter loves her.” Oh he did not like the verbiage used there.

“I love how you guys all thought to ask me how I felt about this, so very thoughtful of you.” You laughed at the absurdity of it all. 

“Yea, exactly! You don’t even want to be a sweetheart, do you baby girl?” Ryomen asked, fully turning to you. A realization hit you like a truck trying to teleport you to a fantasy world. Something in the way he said baby girl, in how intense he was in fighting against the tittle. Ryomen was jealous. Of course, this was nothing new, but the idea of him being jealous of these guys just felt so absurd to you. You were used to giving into his jealousy, to baby it and tend to it; like a dutiful nurse. Protecting his ego at all cost. Your first instinct was to continue that tradition, but then you thought about it again. He never went out of his way to try and take care of your jealousy. And being a fraternity sweetheart may actually be fun.

“I mean, I am at every single party you guys throw, I might as well be the sweetheart, right?” You smiled and the other guys cheered, even Nanami let out a little whoop! Ryomens eyes looked dark though. He knew exactly what you were throwing in his face. You wanted to say being this petty was unlike you, but since you started dating Ryomen…

“You offered beer pong?” You smiled to Suguru, who gladly took you outside to the table, Satoru tagging along with a reluctant Ryomen dragging behind. 

It had been four months since you first slept with Sukuna, and two months since you got together. Sometimes you questioned that decision. Actually, you questioned it a lot. You questioned if he ever actually wanted to be in a relationship, or just liked the idea of it. If he wanted to have someone stable waiting for him at home while he still got to do what- or who- ever he wanted. The way he talked to some of the girls at these parties made you think that was the case. He talked to them almost as if he forgot he had a girlfriend, or worse, as if he resented the fact he had one.

Which was so unbearably confusing for you! He pursued you so fervently, as if he was convinced you were soul mates. You were happy to keep things casual with him for exactly this reason. He was the one that wanted to take things to the next level, He was the one that made things official, hell- He was the first one to say I Love You! And it’s not like he tried to hide you, he posted you on social media, he took you out as often as he could, that motherfucker tried to get a tattoo of your god damn name! Thank God Suguru talked him out of that one. It didn’t make sense to you that he would be this obsessed with you regularly, but the moment he got a few shots in his system and a cute girl approached him it’s like you were a ghost to him. It made you fucking angry.

The air was warm and full of laughing as you played against Satoru.

“Hey, you have to bounce it, you can’t throw it!” He giggled, trying to swat away your ball.

“Oh, but you can swat it?!” You scoffed through smiles, “Unfair rules!” This was your third round, and he only had one cup left. That being said, he was about half way through yours, and you were definitely starting to feel it. It was actually kinda nice to be thoroughly enjoying a party. To feel like you were here to hang out with your friends and not just to please your man. 

“Come on Satoru, how are you going to lose to someone who’s wasted?!” Suguru laughed, grabbing your elbow to help steady you. You should have known something was wrong when Ryomen didn’t step in. 

“By also being wasted!” Gojo chuckled as he completely missed his shot and you sunk yours. Cheers and hollers erupted in the crowd, and you proudly threw up both hands as you had won again. You felt like a star. Like you were actually cool, and accepted. You felt amazing. You looked over to your darling boyfriend to share the moment with him.

Only to feel every once of warmth leave your body when you saw him talking to another woman. You knew her well, Amanda from your english class. She talked all the time about how hot Ryomen was before the two of you got together, and joked about stealing him after. From the look of that heart wrenching grin he had on while he talked to her, it looked like she had a chance.

“Walk away. Just walk away.” You thought.“Come to me.” She laughed obnoxiously loud at a joke that probably wasn’t even that funny. Even he looked surprised at the reaction he got. Then she got closer. Your body went into rigor mortis as your lungs forgot how to work. “No. Please No.” 

She kissed him. The next three seconds felt like three years. You watched her wrap a hand around his neck and pull him closer, wrap another hand in his hair and you fought vomit. It was a tender act you thought was sacred between the two of you. You guessed not. You ran off, not having the heart to watch anymore. You didn’t see him push her away and onto her ass. You didn’t hear him yell at her.

“What the fuck skank?! Why the fuck would you do that?!” He scoffed, aggressively wiping his mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry! I just thought the conversation was going well, so-”

“So you fucking kiss me?! Do you do that to every man you have a conversation with?!” He physically spat, “You didn’t even fucking ask! Have you never heard of fucking consent?!”

“Look, I thought-!”

“No, you didn’t think of shit! I have a fucking girlfriend, do you know that?! Jesus fucking christ.” He groaned, walking away from the situation to find you.

You were making your way through the house to go home, fighting tears because you’d be damned if these assholes saw you cry. You swam through the sea of drunken bodies swaying in the house. The bass from the music felt all too intense, the lights all too bright. Everything was just too much. You felt disconnected from and all too aware of your body all at once, and all you really wanted was non-existence. 

“Leaving so soon?” Nanami asked from his place on the houses steps as you walked out. He looked up, noticing the tears you had let slip, and his eyes widened a bit. He immediately dropped the asshole act, standing up and placing a concerned hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, are you okay? Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Ryomen is a cheating bastard.” You managed to gasp through choked breath. This whole not crying thing was so much harder than you thought. That didn’t sound like the Ryomen Nanami knew though. The Ryomen Nanami knew didn’t shut up about his girl. He wanted to marry her after graduation, he was trying to build a life with her. He wouldn’t cheat on her. Something wasn’t right.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but that can’t be right. Theres gotta be a mis-”

“I gotta go Kento.” You whimpered, brushing his hand away. You refused to listen to one of his frat dude friends try to defend him. You took off the R that weighed down on your neck, his claim to you, and handed it to Nanami. You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him again to return it. “Please give that to him, I need to leave.” You muttered, all but running away from the party.

You should have known better. You did know better. You hated that you expected this and still got hurt. Everything just felt so unbearably heavy. When you broke up with your last boyfriend, you just felt numb. You felt about as inconvenienced by it as when they got your order wrong at Mcdonalds. Annoyed, yeah- maybe even pissed off. But ultimately you got over it quick, it had barely hurt your week.

But this? This felt like hell. This felt wrong. Like when a loved one suddenly dies, or if your house burned down while you were away; like the universe was fundamentally broken- turned upside down and left to rot. You felt so fundamentally stupid for giving him a chance. For letting him trick you into thinking he was in anything other than lust. For falling in love with a demon like him. All of the devotion and warmth you held for him tasted so fucking bitter, like it had been preverted and turned into a curse. You wanted to crawl home and tell your mom she was right.

But, your dorm was much closer. “Hey nerd, how was the- oh no.” Mei Mei said, looking up from her laptop as she heard the door open. You looked like a rejected member of Kiss, make up running down your red face, hair a mess from the outside wind. 

“Mei mei, he-” You tried to get it out, but just choked on your words, breaking down into the sobs you were holding back. Mei rushed over to wrap her arms around you and keep you from collapsing in on yourself. 

“Oh sweetheart…I’m so sorry.” She sighed, leading you over to your bed and sitting down with you. She knew what happened without you saying it. She knew it was going to happen. She was mostly just shocked it took this long. 

“I’m so stupid..”

“Yea, a little bit.” She confirmed, patting your back and shushing you as you broke into another sob. Your phone went off. She checked it for you, snarling at the ‘where are you?’ text he sent. That motherfucker had a lot of gaul. She tossed your phone into your desk drawer, then went and grabbed the emergency ice cream she kept in her fancy mini fridge. She joined you on the bed with two spoons and her laptop.

“Okay, what do you wanna watch?” She asked, pulling up netflix.

Meanwhile, Ryomen was losing his mind looking for you, and Nanami was losing his mind looking for him. “There you are!” Kento snapped as he finally found Ryomen coming out of their shared dorm.

“Nanami, have you seen Y/n?” He asked immediately, “I can’t find her, and I’m about to start hitting people about it.” He said, running a nervous hand through his hair. He had never lost you for this long before, and he was really starting to panic now. If anything had happened to you, he was going to make tomorrows nine o’clock news. 

“Yeah, she ran out like an hour ago saying you cheated on her, is that true?” Nanami asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

“What?!” Ryomen snapped, grabbing Nanami by the shoulders, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that an hour ago?!”

“Because I’ve been looking for you for an hour dipshit!” He yelled, pushing Ryomen off, “Answer the question!”

“No it’s not fucking true! Why the hell would I do something that fucking stupid?!” Ryomen scoffed at the very idea of such a thing. He remembered his encounter with Yuki, before the two of you had even become casual partners. The thought of trying to be with another woman made him nauseous then, and that feeling had only intensified as your relationship grew.

“Then why does she think that you did?” Nanami questioned further, trying to get to the bottom of the situation.

“I don’t know! I-” Shit. He didn’t even finish his sentence before the unwanted kiss flooded his memories. A hit from a sledge hammer wielded by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson would have been softer than the realization that not only did you see the kiss, but thought it was welcomed. Suddenly, he didn't have blood in his veins anymore, only liquid nitrogen. “Oh my god, she saw Amanda kiss me.”

“What?! Ryomen, you said you didn’t che-”

“I didn’t!” He snarled, “She kissed me when I was trying to sell to her. I pushed her off, it was not mutual!” The last thing Suguru and Gojo expected to find when they went to slip off to their room was Nanami and Ryomen fighting in the hall, but, suppose theres a first time for everything.

“Whats going on?” Gojo asked, needing to be in the center of every drama ever.

“Y/n thinks Ryomen cheated on her.” Nanami explained.

“You fucking what?!” Suguru hissed, ready to fight on your behalf.

“I didn’t actually do it!” Ryomen yelled in his own defense. “She saw Amanda kiss me, but I guess missed the part where I yelled at her for assault!”

“Well she’s officially on the ban list.” Satoru stated what everyone else assumed went without saying.

“Wait, where is Y/n now?” Geto asked.

“Home, I assume. It’s where she was going.” Nanami explained.

“I have to go get her.” Ryomen said more to himself than anyone else, attempting to leave before Gojo stopped him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Satoru asked, “If it just happened, she may not be willing to listen to you yet.”

“No, Ryomen’s right. The longer he lets this sit the worse it’ll get.” Suguru pointed out. “This is something you address immediately.”

“Not necessarily! She may be working it out on her own,” Satoru was being delusional, “I mean, has she broken up with you yet right? Like officially? Cause if not, showing up at her doorstep out of no where may be the end your relationship.” Wait, he had a point.

“No, She hasn’t broken up with me.” Ryomen sighed in almost relief. You two were still together, that ment there was hope. Hope of a conversation, hope to save the future he had built for you two. Maybe all wasn’t lost.

“Yeah, so…about that.” Nanami muttered almost sheepishly as he held up the white gold necklace you had tossed at him. Ryomen felt his soul evacuate his body and the liquid nitrogen in his veins turn into lead. The room was spinning and the only thing he could focus on was the jewels that should have been around your neck. The symbol of your relationship, dangling abandoned from Nanami's fingers. You had left him and he didn’t even know it.

“Shit.” Mai Mai muttered, checking her phone half way through an episode of whatever you had put on. “Shoko got too fucked up and needs a ride home from the bar.” She sighed. You knew what that meant.

“That’s ok,” you managed a smile, “Go make sure she’s safe.”

“Are you going to be okay?” That was a loaded question if you’d ever heard one. 

“Yeah Mei, I’m not gonna like, kill myself or something stupid like that.” You forced a laugh to really sell that you were falling apart. Mei gave a concerned face, but knew that Shoko still needed her help. 

“I’ll be back in like, an hour, ok?” She said as she grabbed her keys, “If you need anything or god forbid he shows up, call me, ok?” She demanded more than asked.

“Okay, I will.” You sighed, waving off your friend as she left. Once alone, you decided you might as well take the opportunity to get into pajamas. You shuffled to your closet, feeling more like a zombie than much else. That was until you opened the door to reveal Ryomens hoodie hanging up with the rest of your clothes. The icy tendrils of despair returned, and despite your better judgment you pulled the old hoodie down.

He had left it here a few weeks back, and you had been snuggling up in it ever since. At the time it was a major comfort, now it was just another thing to return later. Despite yourself, you still hugged it, imaging you were just hugging him goodbye for some closure. You hoped it would help you let go. Instead what happened is you were greeted with his familiar scent, pine and cigarettes, and your eyes started gushing again.

It’s surreal just how many times a heart can break before it shatters. How many times you can watch your boyfriend, who swore oh so many times that you were his one and only, flirt with truly breath taking girls before you finally snap. How many times you can accept the unacceptable before it feels like a full body breakdown, before you’re hiding in your room, crying into his hoodie because despite everything he was still so comforting to your stupid heart that still hadn’t caught up with your brain in terms of relationship status. 

You collapsed onto your bed as you clung to the fabric, wishing it was him. That tonight had never happened, and he was still yours. It was a nice thought. Your pity party was interrupted by what could only be described as a cop knock on your door. It startled a yelp out of you, and almost scared you enough to make you forget you were sad.

“Y/n, please, let me in.” Mother fucker! Why would he think this was a good idea?!

“No Sukuna, I have nothing to say to you.” You snapped, and he cringed on the other side of the door. He hated when you used his last name for him. It made him feel like his father.

“That’s fine! Just let me say what I have to say.” He begged, “Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

The Audacity

How fucking dare he show up to your door with the worlds lamest fucking excuse and expect it to work?! How fucking dare he act like you didn’t have two working eyes! The rage that filled you with pushed you off the bed and to the door, throwing it open just to smack him across the face. His eyes blew wide at the attack. He had never seen you violent before. He kinda liked it.

“You’re a real fucking douche bag, do you know that?!” You snapped, “You spent fucking months trying to get me to agree to be with you, just to do this to me! Do you know how much this hurts?!”

“Y/n, I-!”

“I’m not done!” You shouted, officially pissing off your across the hall neighbor.

“Take it to your dorm, not the hall!” Utahime yelled from behind her door. You growled, but reluctantly pulled him into your room, closing the door behind the two of you.

“You lead me on for fucking months, fucking months, making me think you loved me and wanted to be with me, just for it to turn out to all be a lie! Then, when you realize you fucked up, you turn up at my door with the lamest excuse known to man! What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?!” You hissed, venom dripping for your lips like thick cyanide.

“She kissed me,” He explained, holding up his hands when he saw you open your mouth to argue, “You asked me what I had to say for myself, right? This is what I have to say, just let me talk.” You closed your mouth reluctantly, waiting for him to continue.

“She started talking to me because she wanted to try pot and knew I had some to sell. I sold her an ounce and we kept talking about her fucking major or some shit. Honestly, I don’t even remember what we were talking about, I was just trying to give good customer service. But I guess she was into it, cause out of no where she kissed me. But I didn’t kiss her back, Y/n! I pushed her off of me, I yelled at her that I had a girlfriend, hell, I’m pretty sure I fucking spit on her. You have to believe me Baby, I wanted nothing to do with that!” 

He was talking fast and panicked, and not at all like how he normally spoke. Like he was scared for his life, grabbing his hair and trying to control his breathing. His fear almost transferred to you, but all you really wanted was to hug him, to assure him it was okay. A part of you wanted to deny it all, because that was so much easier than admitting you were wrong and jumped to conclusions. That you let Mei Mei and your mother get into your head. 

But you knew your boyfriend better than that. You knew that this wasn’t the ramblings of a liar, but the ramblings of a desperate man needing to be heard. The honesty in his eyes, the tremble in his normally steady voice. You thought about how Nanami tried to argue with you when you first accused Ryomen. At the time you refused to hear any of it, but Nanami had never been one to bull shit anyone or defend his fraternity brothers shitty actions. And suddenly, your stomach filled with stones as you realized what you had done, what you had almost thrown away. 

“Ryomen,” You muttered, slowly approaching him as if he was a hurt animal.

“I kept looking for you after it happened, I was going to tell you! But you were gone-”

“Ryo,” You tried again to cut through his thoughts, standing close enough now to touch him.

“But then fucking Nanami found me, and he had your necklace, and-” Oh shit, he wasn’t there anymore. You recognized a doom spiral when you saw one. You gently grabbed his cheeks and forced him to look at you. Those puppy dog eyes you fell in love with were wide and full of fear, filling you with a sick dread that made your skin feel far too tight.

“Baby, look at me. You’re getting lost in your head.” You said softly, using your thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I-”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I ran away instead of just talking to you about what happened.” You sighed.

“Yea that was kinda hypocritical of you.” He nodded.

“Ryomen.”

“I’m just saying, you’re the one talking about how important communication is.”

“And I apologized, did I not?!” You laughed at the emotional whiplash of it all. He let a small smile slip as he watched. He finally felt like he could breathe again. He pulled you into a tight hug and kissed the top of your head.

“I swear, this love shit’s gonna put me in the ground.” He more gasped than laughed, the crash of his body no longer being in fight or flight mode weighing heavy on him.

“Ain’t that the truth.” You huffed, shaking your head as best as you could against his chest. Your body still hadn’t gotten the memo that things were okay now. Your bones still felt like they were shaking in your skin. He parted enough to hook his finger under your chin, tilting your head up at him. Your heart skipped a beat, taking in how soft he looked in the moonlight fluttering in from your window. He was proof god had favorites. He smiled softly to you.

“I think you’re worth it though.” He whispered, before leaning down and pressing his soft lips to yours. It didn’t matter how many times they two of you kissed, your heart always freaked out about it- like a mega fan in the pit at a concert. Your arms instinctively moved to wrap around his neck, he he took you by the hips, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He bit your lip, and took the opportunity of your soft moan to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your body started warming back up, his comforting smell putting your panic response to ease. Your nervous system pulsated back to life, sparks flying in your blood waiting to be caught in his inferno. On one hand, it felt almost wrong to be kissing him so soon after the events of the night- like a betrayal of yourself. On the other, your heart craved him like a drug, his affection gave you a high that nothing else could even come close too. You felt like you were spinning and a heat was quickly pooling in your legs that you knew he could take care of. 

One of your hands tangled into his soft pink hair, tugging softly. He took that as his que to pick you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips long enough for him to sit you down on the side of the bed. His kisses moved from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck. You moaned softly as he sucked soft bruises into your collar bone.

He pushed you back down on the bed, lowering himself to his knees in between your legs, like a sinner praying for forgiveness at an altar.. You were suddenly pretty thankful you hadn’t gotten around to changing yet. He hiked the dress up around your hips, smiling when he saw the underwear you were wearing.

“Black lace, huh?” He teased, forgetting the past like, hour and a half apparently, “Were you planning this sweetheart?”

“I assure you I did not plan on us breaking up.” You laughed. He did not like that you used the words “Breaking Up” and “Us” in the same sentence. It didn’t affect him they way that it did before. It didn’t fill him with that overwhelming feeling of panic that it had earlier. It didn’t freeze him in place. Instead, it just filled him with white hot rage. Surely you knew better than that, right? You were his, you weren’t going anywhere. “Breaking up” was not an option. He just had to remind you who you belonged to.

“Good thing we didn’t break up.” He said. Before you could protest, he pushed your panties to the side and ran his warm tongue along your folds, earning him a soft, pretty gasp from your lips. He smirked to himself, noticing how wet you were from just kissing, gathering the silky liquor on his tongue, and swirling it onto your clit. He started spelling his nickname with his tongue, R. Y. O, R. Y. O, and you were lost to whatever he wanted.

Your body pulsated with electricity, every swipe of his tongue sending a new wave of bliss through your body. You moaned out his name, fingers tangling into his hair to try and keep yourself grounded. You felt like you were made of pop rocks and stars, eyes rolling back in pleasure, pulling him closer to your core. You could feel a tsunami building inside of you, a sea of pleasure threatening to over take you.

“Have I ever told you how sweet you taste?” Sukuna moaned, sliping two fingers inside of your gushing pussy. You mentally added that to the list of weird compliments you had received since becoming bedfellows with the wannabe bad boy. Or, tried to I should say. As you were filing the thought away, he curled his fingers into your g-spot, turning any coherent thoughts you had had before into oh fuck that felt good and fuck I’m already getting close. Ryomen felt the way your cunt clenched around his fingers, and felt his own dick twitch. He knew how that clench felt around his cock, and more than anything he wanted to feel it again.

 “Ryo, I-I’m...yea” You tried to warn him, but the electric shockwaves going through your body made communication rather difficult at that moment.

“Oh yea?” He chuckled from between your legs, punctuating his sentence with a sharp suck to the bundle of nerves between your legs. “Then cum for me pretty girl.” It didn’t take much after that, his words of affirmation waking up butterflies in your stomach and in your cunt. A few more curls of his fingers and swipes from his tongue and suddenly cartoon stars were exploding in front of your eyes. Your climax tore through you with a vengeance, the storm hitting you and drowning your senses in bliss and oxytocin. Your entire body felt like it had been struck by lighting made of erotic thrill, the aftershocks leaving you shaking in it’s wake.

Your soul was still trying to make it’s way back to your body when his lips met yours again, your taste mingling with his on your tongue and leaving your head spinning. You went to grab his shirt, finding that he had taken it off at some point, which was more than okay with you. He nipped at your jaw and your neck before pulling away and getting you up long enough to take your dress off you. You went to take off your bra, only for him to stop you.

“Hey, hey, whats the rush?” He asked from the foot of your bed, wicked grin showing off his naturally sharp canines, “Take it off slowly.” This was 100% a power play and you know it. Normally this fucker was literally ripping clothes to get them off you quicker, your sudden uptick in panty buying could attest to that. But now all of the sudden he wanted to go slow? Fine, you could play that game. 

You stood on your knees to give him a better view, slowly shimmying the straps off your shoulders. His scarlet eyes burned into your every movement as you slipped your arms out of the straps as elegantly as one could. You made eye contact with him as you unhooked your bra, one hook at a time. Or, tried to at least. His eyes were trained on your chest. You grinned at the aggravated groan he let out, watching you catch the fabric before it fell and revealed your breast. His eyes were dark and you could tell by his shifting his jeans were getting too tight.

“Slow enough for you?” You smirked at him. 

“Keep running that mouth and I’ll give you something to do with it.” He warned, and you just laughed, finally letting your bra drop to the mattress. You saw his body physically tense as to not grapple you then and there.

“You want my mouth? Oh, but I’d much rather have you somewhere else.” You teased, looping your thumbs into the sides of your underwear as you started to pull them off your hips at an agonizing pace. Ryomen felt like he was going to lose it, feeling his fingers, among other extremities, twitch with the need to touch you. He tried to be a good boy, he really did, but when you rolled your hips at him he lost it. In a flash he had pulled you under him, and was fumbling with his belt.

“Hey, what happened to slow?” You teased.

“Fun experiment, not for me.” He responded, freeing himself from his jeans and lining himself up with your still dripping entrance. He caught your lips in a kiss as he dived in, swallowing your sweet moans as he filled you to the brim. It didn’t matter how many times Ryomen was in between your legs, it always felt like the first. The burning stretch as his hips connected with you setting your body on fire and filling your brain with tv static. You could feel your already weak legs tremble around him, and he groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 

“God pretty girl, you feel so fucking good for me.” He moaned, setting a brutal pace as he pushed into you, his cock brushing against your g-spot and massaging your cervix. “Like you were made to be on my cock.” Who he was talking to was a mystery to you because you were not there. You were in outer space, floating on atoms and space dust as he rocked into you, bliss filling your veins as you felt euphoria spread through you and pool in your core. 

He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, letting him dive even deeper into your velvety walls. He grabbed your hips in a vice grip, no doubt leaving bruises you could take finger prints off of. Every thrust hit your g-spot, the new position letting him reach places that you didn’t know existed. “Oh, fuck, Ryo don’t stop.” You begged.

“Didn’t plan on it,” He assured you, watching the way your eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Hey no-” He growled, removing his hand from your hip to grab your chin, “Look at me.” You whined as you opened your eyes, meeting his lust filled gaze. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You Ryomen..” You moaned, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

“Who’s the only person that makes you feel this good?” He demanded the validation.

“You, Ryomen, you!” You squirmed underneath him as all of the stimulation became too much. Your hands started to tingle as your body got ready to tumble off a cliff. You weren’t even fully processing what he was asking, you just knew to say his name.

“Who do you belong to Y/n?”

“Ryomen..” You whimpered, digging your claws in his back as your legs trembled, “Ryo, please..” You gasped, teetering on the edge. His hand left your chin and found your clit, massaging expert circles into it. It was your tipping point, sending you hurtling over the edge of your orgasm and head over heels into euphoria, the sea of bliss overtaking you as red hot lava replaced your blood. You felt almost dizzy as you were hit with wave after wave of ecstasy, vision going blurry with tears from the intensity of it all.

Ryomen wasn’t far behind you, the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper with every convulsion. He told himself he really couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to; filling you until you were overflowing and thanking Aphrodite for the invention of birth control. He rolled you over as he collapsed next to you, managing to stay inside. 

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, breathing deep in your afterglow, before he finally pulled out, albeit reluctantly. He kissed the top of your head, fixing his pants and finding a washcloth to clean you up with. “I’d say sorry for the mess but, It’s kinda hot.” He chuckled softly. You rolled your eyes and threw on his shirt.

“Dick.” You muttered. He nodded in agreement.

“Is that a request? I could go again.” He grinned as you weakly hit his arm with your finger tips.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled softly. He nodded.

“I know…I love you too.” He whispered. He waited a second before adding, “We’re still together, right?” more as a formality than anything.

“No, I slept with you as one final hurrah before deleting your number.” you joked.

“Oh, well then, I guess you won’t be needing this?” He asked, pulling your pendant from his pocket. Your eyes widened a bit as you saw it, almost forgetting that you had ever taken it off to begin with. Your hand instinctively went to your neck to protect it, only to find nothing there. obviously. 

“My necklace-” You said, but he shook his head.

“Nope, my necklace. Unless you wanna be my girlfriend?” He smirked that evil smirk. You laughed fondly at him, then gave an overly exaggerated sigh.

“Well I suppose, if it’s the only way to get my jewelry back, then we gotta get back together.” He chuckled as he hooked the chain around your neck again, admiring the way it dazzled against your skin.

“It looks good on you.” he praised, kissing your forehead. 

“Everything looks good on me.” You winked.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO CALLING ME IF HE SHOWED UP?!” Mei yelled as she finally returned home.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

@risuola @grimreaqueer @baji-keisukes-wife @aliensbelieveinme-blog1 @marenalee @ryosuku

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1

RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.

(Y/N) - Your name.

NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.

That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.

You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).

One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.

“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”

—

“Please!”

Stab.

“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”

Stab.

“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”

The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.

“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.

“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.

“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.

“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.

For now.

Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.

“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”

How fucking dare he.

How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.

For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.

He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?

They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.

Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.

“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”

Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.

“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.

“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.

“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.

Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.

—

Something was off.

Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.

Your phone started to ring.

Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

You left out a huff and tried again.

“Hellooo?”

When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.

“I think you got the wrong numb-“

“Wanna play a game?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“I said, wanna play a game?”

“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”

“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.

“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.

“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”

Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.

“Warmer.”

Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.

“Colder.”

You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.

“Hotter.”

You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.

“Hotter.”

You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.

“You're on fucking fire baby.”

Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.

You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.

“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.

“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.

You black out.

—

“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.

“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.

[covetyou]

the best of you, honey, belongs to me

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), creampie, choking, spanking, mild praise kink, potential assault, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap. word count: 5.5k chapter summary: Joel Miller is an asshole. An asshole and a liar. Right?

A/N: HOLY SHIT I DID IT I FINISHED SOMETHING. I did it Ma!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this month. Your support has been silly lovely and I genuinely love you all a little bit.

Ty to @iamasaddie and @jupiter-soups for being the first people to cheer me on from the sidelines. You both made me excited about my own writing, which feels weird but I'm very grateful to you.

I hope you like it, thank you, goodbye, see you soon, I love you.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: NFWMB by Hozier

Joel Miller was a massive fucking liar, you'd realized.

You probably would have been able to guess that before, but as you were stood here, back pushed against a brick wall in an alleyway, it was clear as day.

You'd been dragged down here by two men - a small rat like one and a taller one with a mean look on his face - and thrown against the wall. Your back smarted, and you tried to reason with them, but they were tugging at your clothes and threatening you before you could think of anything useful to say.

They were torn off you as quick as they were on you.

And now, heavy fists were pounding into them, beating into their faces and stomachs as they slouched pathetically against the brick opposite. Joel had found you, somehow noticed in a crowd of people that you were suddenly gone. He had someone with him, they looked similar enough that they could have been family, and both were beating into the men that had dragged you down the alley.

A yelled threat and the two men were hobbling away, beaten and bloody and holding onto themselves in their retreat.

"You okay?"

You're looking at Joel, so it takes a second to register that the other man is addressing you. You slowly turn to him - definitely related - and nod. You're stunned and a little winded more than anything.

Joel is flexing his fist, staring daggers at you. His companion doesn't say another word to you, but you hear him talk in hushed tones to Joel, before Joel mutters something back to him and he walks away.

You should probably be more scared of being alone down an alley with Joel Miller than the other two guys but, though it confuses you, you feel safer than ever. He'd protected you, saved you, and that's how you knew that Joel Miller was a fucking liar.

"C'mon," he growls to you, walking away and expecting you to follow. Of course, you follow, even through the low lying anger and frustration that's still simmering in your belly.

As you walk behind, you watch as he clenches his fist and flexes his hands over and over. Before you know it you're outside his apartment block, being roughly dragged up the stairs by a heavy hand on your arm, dragged down a corridor and deposited in front of his front door. He doesn't look at you as he fishes his key out from an inner pocket on his coat.

"Saw you fuckin' lookin' at me, I told you not to do that shit," he says angrily, throwing you into his apartment and slamming the door closed behind you.

"They hurt you?" You shake your head. "They touch you?" You shake your head again.

His nostrils flair. You can almost hear the bones in his hands creak from how hard he's clenching his fists.

And so you poke the fucking bear again, because what is there to lose. You'd spent all week mulling it over, getting angrier and angrier as you talked yourself in circles. He didn't like you and you definitely didn't like him. You didn't want to kiss him, but also you did. Neither of you cared, but maybe both of you did. Everything was feeling like a lie and all you wanted was the truth. So you poke, bracing yourself for impact.

"You're a liar," you whisper, pulling at the sleeves of your coat.

His eyes immediately snap to yours, and he's making quick work of the distance between you. He's toe to toe with you when he stops, looking down at you, fists still firmly clenched at his sides.

"What did you fuckin' say to me?"

You swallow before you speak again, meek as a mouse but a fire in your belly. "You're a liar. You said you wouldn't look out for me."

"S'that why you kept lookin'? S'that why you got yourself in trouble? To prove some fuckin' point?"

You frown at him - it hadn't been intentional. You were glaring at him when they grabbed you, stuffing a gloved hand over your mouth to keep your scream from being heard. The people around you didn't care, didn't stop what they were doing or go for help. They just left you. But Joel came anyway.

"You think I asked for that?" you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You never have and never will cry in front of this man, not like this anyway. You watch as his mouth curls to sneer at you, the fire turning into a sick feeling bubbling up through your belly as you watch his lip raise.

You don't know what comes over you, but you push at his chest, wanting to touch him and get him away from you in equal measure. It takes him by surprise, the force of your push making him stumble back.

You both stare at each other, unmoving for a beat, both shocked that you'd dare to touch him let alone push him. You think maybe you should run, get away before he gets you, but your reactions are slower than his, and you're raising your arms to protect yourself as he makes one big stride over to you.

The blow doesn't come.

He's pulling at your coat, jerking it down your arms, before tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It gets caught, and you hear a tear as it catches on your arm, but he keeps pulling anyway. The fabric splits from your body, tattered and ruined as it's discarded on the floor.

"You think I would fuckin' hit you?" he says angrily as he tugs at the rest of your clothes. "You think I would fuckin' hurt you in any way you don't want?"

You have no time to answer before he's manhandling you again, pushing you roughly into his room.

He pushes you forward onto his bed, bending you over and holding you there as he reaches around and tugs at your zipper. You fight to stand, but the weight of his hand keeps you in place as he pulls your pants and panties down in one, leaving them around your knees so you can't run to escape even if you wanted to. Any thought that you could, should, run is already gone. You don't want to, not any more. Whatever he wants to do, whatever anger he has for you, you want it. You want to feel his anger, you want it to burn into yours until you combust.

A hand claps down on your ass and you feel the sting ripple up your back. He wanted that one to hurt, and it did. Another sharp slap hits your other cheek soon after, the sting of pain made worse by your cold skin, but you're glad for it because you wanted that one to hurt too.

Both his hands rub across your cheeks, drawing a groan from you as he massages them and soothes the sting before rough fingers pull you apart. He always did like looking.

He wastes no time in plunging his wet tongue into your pussy from behind, Joel's hands yanking your pants down the to your feet to spread you open further for him. "You're fuckin' dripping," he says between breaths as you push back into his face.

"You this wet from those guys?" You don't answer, so he slaps a hand down on your ass again.

"Fuckin' answer me."

"N-no. M'not wet from them."

"Then why," he says, breathing deeply as he devours your pussy, the cold of his nose tickling your hole as the scruff on his jaw scratches at your inner thighs. "Tell me. Tell me why this needy fuckin' pussy is so wet."

"Because of you," you push your face down into his bed, biting at his sheets as his tongue swipes over your clit, already so sensitive your legs are shaking. You arch your back, exposing more of your cunt to his relentless tongue. There's no question or thread of shame in your mind why you like this - why you're already so close to coming undone just from him being an asshole and playing with your pussy.

"Me, huh? Little hole's desperate for me? Look at her cryin' out to be stuffed full, drippin' all over the place."

You couldn't help the drip of slick from your cunt, or the way his words always worked to make it worse. You knew you were a mess, but by now you knew he liked it, even if he taunted you for it. You felt how his grasping hands got firmer, saw as his cock got harder, just at the sight of your glistening pussy.

Two of his thick fingers are pushing into you, the cold feel of them startling you as they slide home. You'd spent a week thinking of his fist buried in your cunt, but his fingers still felt so thick, so much, plunged into your dripping wet heat as they were.

"If you make a mess on my sheets I'll rub your fuckin' nose in it. Act like an animal I'll treat you like one."

If you were an animal, he was fucking feral - a snarling, growling, feral animal of a man that you just couldn't resist.

His fingers curl, dragging against your walls harshly as his tongue slides against your clit again, swirling around the stretched rim where his fingers are embedded in you, tasting you, before slurping at your clit once more. You grind your hips back against his face, trying to get more friction on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. They're warmed now, the burning heat from your cunt drawing the chill from his bones.

The wet squelch in your cunt is obscene as he laps at your clit, drawing you so close already, your feet still tangled in your pants and your moans muffled by the push of your face into his sheets.

Joel's fingers are gone just as your orgasm starts to raise its head over the horizon, ruining any high you were so close to getting. You slam your fist down on the bed in frustration, ignoring his gruff laugh as you muffle your fuck into his bed. His knees crack as he stands, undoing his belt and pulling his cock from his pants. He doesn't stroke himself, he doesn't need to, he just squeezes himself at the base, lines himself up with your hole and pushes forward.

A strangled moan pulls from your chest as he sheathes himself, pulling your hips back flush with his as his cock impales you in one movement.

"Fuck, if this pussy don't just love this dick."

He draws back slowly, pulling any slick from your cunt back with him, coating himself in you, before slamming back to the hilt.

"Uhh, f-fuck."

You feel him draw back again, holding himself back from you, tip barely inside your cunt, teasing himself at your entrance. Before he can, you push back onto his cock, taking him in with a deep moan.

He stifles a groan, fingers digging into your hips, pinching the flesh in his grip. You try to move, to fuck yourself on his length, but his grip won't let you. You can feel him throb inside you, and you hope he's already close to coming, that he wants you that much he can barely hold himself back.

The thought is gone as soon as he starts pulling back again and thrusting forward quickly, repeatedly slamming his hips into your ass and pulling you back onto him. The sharp slap of his hips and wet squelches of your pussy are muffled only by your moans and Joel's shaky breathing.

"Tell me - you fuck anyone else - like this," you say through staccato gasps as his cock collides with your cervix. "If you say you do - I'll know - you're even more of a - fucking liar."

He throws you forward, pulling out and standing glaring down at you when you twist to look at him, finally able to kick your pants and shoes off your feet.

"You think you're special?" he growls. You take him in, his massive figure stood there still clothed, cock hanging lewdly from his pants and covered in your slick. You want to lick it, taste your own pussy on his cock and catch the drip of precum from his tip before it's wasted.

"No. I'm not. And neither are you," you spread your legs as you say it, willing him to come back, to start fucking you again, but not daring to ask for it. "You're an asshole. I just like that you make me feel good."

"Feeling's mutual, sweetheart." He's pouncing on you before you can process it, yanking his shirt over his head before pulling your spread thighs across his clothed ones, notching at your entrance and sliding straight back in.

You thud back down onto the bed with the force of his cock fucking into you, staring up at him with an open mouth, panting as he starts to cant into you once again. His hands are holding your thighs against his as he rocks so deeply into you you think you can see your lower belly pulse with each movement.

His hands slide down your thighs, pulling you apart where his cock joined with you, swiping a thumb up the slick gathered there and rubbing it around your clit in rough circles. You reach down, hand trying to meet his and hold him there, but he swats you away. You move further instead, grabbing at the waistband of his pants and tugging down, slipping them over his ass before he's pushing you back again. Your fingers drag across his abdomen as you fall back again, watching a shudder crawl through him with the graze of your fingertips.

You try not to smile when his hand falls from you and shimmies his pants further down his legs, over his knees and kicking them off the end of the bed whilst still buried in you. You can see all of him again now, his broad shoulders, dark nipples, the trail of hair down to his cock where it disappears inside you. His thick thighs, spread almost as lewdly as yours, dusted in hair, the muscles flexing with each rock into you. He doesn't look at you as you drink him in, eyes focused on your cunt as he pulls you back open.

He spits down onto your clit. You whine when it collides with your skin and starts to trickle down your spread pussy. You whine again when his thumb draws it up and around your clit, massaging it into you, each swipe of his thumb jerking your swollen nub and bringing you closer to coming undone as he pounds you hard into his mattress.

You throw your head back with the feeling of it all, moaning loudly into the open room.

"You'd let me do anythin' to you, huh."

"Yeah," you admit, head still thrown back and eyes closed. You would, you couldn't even say why, just that you knew you would. That for all the pain at the end of the world, this was a pain that was worth it, a stretch that made you ache in the right ways, the sting of his palm that electrified you, made you feel alive.

"You're just beggin' for me to slap your pussy pink again, ain't you? Fill that pretty little asshole up with my cum. Wear you like a fuckin' glove." He's growling, muttering obscene things to you, things you both know to be true. "You'd let me fuck you anyway I want, even share you with whoever I want."

You nod, stupidly bobbing your head along with the rhythm of him sliding into you.

"This pussy is mine," he growls. "Say it."

"Yours!" you pant, you didn't want it to be anyone elses any more, what was the point when he'd ruined you for anyone else. "M'yours!" Fuck.

"All o' you? That's more than I even asked for sweetheart."

And he's falling forward over you, hands planting either side of your head for leverage as he pounds into you harder than he ever has, abandoning your clit just as you were about to fall apart underneath him yet again. Any words to correct yourself are gone as you groan, pulling your brows together and watching him. His face relaxes and contorts over and over, sweat beads at his temples. You know his hair would feel damp if only you would reached up to touch it.

He shifts to his elbows, the sweat from his chest and belly mingling with yours, making your bodies slick as they slide together. You watch his mouth open as he pants, the heat of his breath on your face cooling the sweat dripping down your neck. You can smell him, see every imperfection of his skin in such detail that you're struck dumb, angry, and desperate all in one swoop. Something so close still feels so far away, and a frustrated sob is bubbling from you before you can stop it.

Something inside you snaps with that. You'd be chasing it for weeks, denied something you hadn't even dared to ask for.

You grab him by the throat as his hips roll into you, gasping out a breath before you grit your teeth and say it, forcing him to look directly at you.

"Fucking kiss me."

He laughs in your face and you fight down the shame for even daring to ask for something you wanted, something you deserved. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, squeezing his throat beneath your fingertips.

He pulls back from you - you want to claw at him and hold him to you but he pushes your hand against his throat with his own. He looks down between you, your pussy creaming around his cock and swollen clit twitching with each thrust.

You tighten the grip on the sides of his throat, feeling the hard thud of blood through his veins at your fingertips, drawing his eyes back to yours.

"Fuck, that's it, sweetheart."

He suddenly throws your arm down from his neck, pinning both if your hands down as he puts his weight on top of you.

"That what you want?" he grits out. "That what you keep coming back for? Thought you were whoring yourself out for pills, not a fuckin' kiss. Are you that fuckin' desperate?"

He's goading you, you know he is. Still, you want to scream at him, but his face is close to yours now, so terrifyingly close you could kiss him by accident if you weren't careful. Suddenly you're terrified of it, desperate but terrified.

His aquiline nose slides up the side of your face, and you stop breathing. "You want this?"

"Please." You'll be angry at yourself for begging later, right now you'd say anything if it meant he'd finally give it to you.

He drags his nose across your face, rubs his nose against yours. He's practically still inside you now, the shallow rock of his hips the only movement either of you are making. "You sure?"

"Please," you whisper again, breath ghosting across his lips. You try not to move your mouth too much, barely muttering the word in case your mouth touches his. His own breath huffs against your mouth, teasing you with the taste of him.

"S'all you want, huh?"

"Mm." He's so close you don't trust yourself to speak.

His nose nuzzles into yours, the hair on his face tickling at your sensitive top lip. Then you feel it, the bow of his top lip swiping against yours, not kissing just feeling.

You're frozen, terrified to move, terrified to feel what you've been desperate for for months.

But you made it through the worst days at the end of the world. What was fear any more except another lie.

You press your lips forward, done with waiting, done with being patient, done with putting others first. You want it so badly that finally, finally, you take it.

At the first press of your lips to his, he releases your wrists, sliding his hand down the curve of your body to hold you to him. You moan into his mouth, blinking back angry tears as you wrap your own hand around his neck to pull him in further. At first he doesn't move against you, letting you kiss the soft swell of his mouth, but when you slip your tongue against his bottom lip and breathe him in, his mouth opens and his lips press to yours, giving back everything you're taking.

"This all you wanted this whole time?" he whispers against your mouth.

"Not all I wanted," you mumble. Your eyes are closed, head dizzy from breathing so deeply, from finally doing the thing you'd literally only dreamed of.

"No?"

"No," you swallow before continuing, the shame of admission gone now. What shame could there even be when it was so obvious. You open your eyes just as you speak. "I wanted all of it."

"Yeah?" You think from the look on his face that he needed to hear it as much as you needed to say it, so you kiss him again, just because you can.

He presses his hips into you harder, making you gasp straight into his mouth, the sharp pressure of his cock so much with the fuzzy high in your head. He does it again, kissing you of his own volition this time and swallowing your moan down as he starts fucking you again, one hand settling in your hair as the other wanders your body. You can still taste the salty sweetness of your own pussy on his mouth as you lick into him.

Your own hand dances with his over your body, teasing your own nipples and stroking down, down, until you push your hand between your bodies and feel between your legs. You're a mess, sweat and the wetness from your pussy merged together to create a slip and slide of slick as he slides his cock into your tender hole. You stroke at the base of him and feel another shudder work its way through his body before you move your hand back to yourself, circling your own clit as he rocks his length into you.

"You gonna make yourself come on my cock?" he says, looking down where your hand strokes at your clit. You nod, lips brushing his, capturing him in another kiss as you moan, so close already.

"Good fuckin' girl. You rub that pretty pussy. She just fuckin' loves this dick." True.

His cock in your pussy, his hands in your hair, holding your body, your own hand strumming your clit with well practiced movements, the feeling of his lips on your own. It's all so much so quickly, everything you've been craving for so long, that the fire in your body burns so bright it explodes out of every pore before you can hold it off.

"F-fuck, Joeeel."

You come with a cry, every part of your body shuddering and convulsing, hand twitching over your own cunt as you desperately try to keep the high going as long as you can, until you're so sensitive all you can do is grip your own thigh, your nails creating half moons in the soft flesh.

"You're all mine, huh?" he says gently, still inside you now as he feels your walls pulse and twitch around him. You nod, floating from his kisses and your own high. "No one else gonna touch this pussy. S'all mine."

"S'yours."

"Needy, needy, pussy," he grunts into your mouth, as your cunt quivers around him, an aftershock pulled from you at just his words and the rasp of his coarse hair against your clit.

It hits you then, for all he called you needy you never actually asked for what you wanted, what you needed. You never took it either. Not until now. But he always did.

"I think you're just as needy as I am," you whisper.

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. "I never said I wasn't, sweetheart."

A quick shuffle of his knees later he's pounding into you with abandon, your cunt had barely stopped throbbing by the time he started again.

"Ohhhh, god."

You don't move to kiss him again, he's chasing whatever high he needs now and you let him take it, back arching, moaning as he pounds away, cock slipping inside you with ease. The hand in your hair pulls harder, tugging your head back. You think this is going to be it, he's going to come inside you like this, but then wet kisses are being peppered across your neck and collar bone, his moans sounding more like those of a common whore than his usual grunts.

You want to come again already, so you grip him tight, hands roaming from your body to his arms, his shoulders. Your nails claw at him, pulling him closer and pushing him away, trying to tear him apart with your bare hands as he fucks you.

He moves quicker still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he holds onto you and slams home over and over. You think he's almost there - hope he is because how much more screaming can your voice take before it breaks - when he's yanking your hair again. His mouth latches to your own in a sloppy kiss, tongue fighting with yours and his cock squelching into the wet heat of your pussy as he comes undone, groaning into your mouth, shuddering, fucking ropes of thick cum into your empty cunt and never stilling for a second.

His hips stop bucking against yours before his mouth does. He kisses you softer, groaning, slowing down to catch his breath before he finally removes his lips from yours with a shuddering gasp, screwing his eyes shut.

Cum practically gushes out of you when he pulls out, and you expect him to get up and leave like he has every time before. He doesn't. Instead, he rests his head next to yours, kissing your shoulder, the warmth of his body encasing yours.

Your face finds his, nudging against his jaw. He shifts, letting you in, and your mouth finds his again. You kiss him until you turn to liquid, sighing deeply and tracing soft patterns on his skin and your own with your fingertips.

Eventually, he releases your hair, and you think the moment is truly over. But then he rolls over, flopping down next to you, the weight of him dipping the mattress and making you shift closer to his side. He closes his eyes, putting an arm behind his head, and you take the chance to look down at his naked body, his cock now soft between his legs.

The feeling that bubbles up through you rips out of your mouth in a laugh. Joel's eyes fly open, finding yours, making you laugh harder. Tears are falling from your eyes - the absurdity of it all too much to bear. So angry at him, at yourself, for weeks now. Wanting something for so long, something that it turns out you could have just reached out and grabbed. Driving yourself near mad over wanting to be touched in a way you thought he never would, when maybe all along he thought you never wanted it. You're left with nothing but small giggles and an aching belly by the time the feeling bubbles out of you completely.

You wonder how all of this must look to him. How small and naive you must look, just a silly girl giggling in his bed. If he thinks it, he doesn't voice it. He just shakes his head softly and raises an eyebrow at you, as if to ask if you're done.

You lie next to each other in silence after that. He doesn't tell you to leave, and you don't move to either. You just lie there, arms barely touching, sweat drying and cooling both of your bodies.

You'd always been okay with silence, more often than not finding yourself with nothing to say, especially these days. But something in this moment tells you to speak, and so you do, filling the silence with your own voice before the opportunity can be taken from you.

"Thanks for helping me out there," you start softly. "I know you said you wouldn't, and I'm not trying to prove a point I just... Thank you. I was looking at you. I couldn't help it. I've been... angry. At you, yeah, but mostly myself. So I was looking, but I didn't realize it was that much, I swear and I -"

"S'okay," he stops your ramble so simply and quickly you frown, an involuntary tut falls of your mouth. He casts a glance over to you, almost chastising as he continues. "Ain't lyin' when I say it though. You gotta stop lookin' at me. I really can't be lookin' out for you, just got lucky this time. There's assholes bigger than me out there."

"Doubt it," you scoff. He raises an eyebrow and runs his tongue along his teeth, daring you to say more. You don't.

You fiddle with the sheets between you, biting at your cheek and bottom lip, so much more to say but the words just ending up jumbled in your head.

"I wasn't lying either. When I said I want it. All of it." That's a start, you figure.

"You don't want me. I could be anyone."

"Maybe I don't. Never said I did. I just know that I want whatever this is," you gesture between the two of you. Whatever had started as a transaction was clearly more than that now. You enjoyed the feel of him, the way he touched you and talked to you. You enjoyed the escape of it all. It was nice to know another person in the world knew you were there, that you existed, cared about you in some way, even if it was only enough to make sure you came. "Sex was never really any good with anyone else anyway."

"I've got other people I have arrangements with. I've got Tess, I've got -"

"I know. That doesn't matter. I'm not asking you to change. I don't want anything to change. I just want..." you trail off, shrugging. "I just want this for me. I don't care what it is for you, as long as it's good too."

He looks at you, taking you in with curious eyes, working out if what you're saying is true. If really, in this moment here and now, you want this exactly as it is. "I can do that."

You think that he gets it, understands it all more than you could ever explain. The thought of that alone is more comforting than any touch he could give you. It could have been a sweet moment, if that's what you two were. But it's not, and still he ruins it anyway.

"Pussy really is no one else's but mine, huh?" There's an edge to his voice that tells you he's holding back a laugh, and you could fucking hit him.

This time, you do. You relish in the oof that leaves his body as your hand collides with the side of his chest. He catches your wrist before you can land another soft blow, your skin prickling in his firm grip. You know from the feel of his hand and the look in his eye that you'll fuck him again before you leave his apartment today.

It only takes a few minutes for you to prove yourself right. You climb on top of him all soft curves and bouncing tits, hair a mess, face scrunched and jaw relaxed as you ride him, kissing him as much as you've ever wanted. Even when your legs ache, when he starts fucking up into you with each bounce of your hips, you carry on, wanting to take from him again and have him fill you.

He never tells you to leave, but eventually you get up, putting your clothes on, tucking your torn t-shirt around you. You expect your dad will be wondering where you've got to soon.

Joel sits and watches you dress until you're stood fully clothed, looking at him lying nude on his bed, a total contrast to what happened in this room just a week ago.

You think for a moment, waiting as he gets up and walks with you back through his apartment. You take in the last few hours. The last week. The last few months of knowing Joel Miller.

"Joel?"

"Mm."

You look him up and down as you stand in front of his door, still naked as the day he was born. "You're a massive slut, you know that, right?"

He laughs. Full bellied, head back, laughs.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart," he says with a smirk, winking as he unlatches the front door.

You kiss Joel again as you leave his apartment. He can't stop you now, and you don't think he would ever even try.

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[obriengf]

way to go, tiger; w/mitch rapp

it was always mitch, or rapp, or just mitch rapp. this rose didn't go by any other name - and in fact, the idea of being given a nickname or pet name was incredibly infuriating to the man at first.

stan hurley was very creative when it came to addressing others, and he took pride in annoying everybody he crossed with a title that pissed them off in just the right way. mitch was often on the receiving end and was referred to by everything under the dark side of hurley's derogatory sun - dumbass, idiot, little shit, and so on. an immunity was built and the names eventually rolled off his back with ease.

it wasn't though until you joined their little team, and the idea of getting under mitch's skin was a game of pure reciprocation, but you will never forget the time you made him freeze... when you referred to him as 'tiger'.

"is that all you got, tiger?"

you were both sparring and he just stopped. head titled as eyes were squinted by furrowed brows. he had growled as you dodged his punch, and it sparred on a name that even you thought was completely absent-minded. it was a slip of the tongue, no thought, a beckon to playfully taunt the man. it was a bunch of words that soon prompted fire behind his eyes as he detested how it stupidly threw him off his game.

it affected him, and that interested you.

it was another day, and hurley played dirty. mitch was dropped on his ass as your handler tricked him, and mitch growled - the type of rumble that came from deep within his chest as it puffed out, and you couldn't help yourself.

"settle down, tiger. ts' just messin' around."

his eyes flicked to yours, their golden warmth ripping through you for only a mere second before he rolled them in frustration. you had your fair share of taunts from time to time, but it was always entertaining to throw them back at mitch when he least expected it.

the next time was when you were in danger. the both of you were double-crossed by an informant, and mitch took it to heart more than you did. he stood tall with balled fists, his physique strong as it towered over you pushing him back. your hands clutched in his black t-shirt, speaking quietly to calm him down as he growled as a warning shot when the other man ran for his life.

"woah, woah. he's not worth it, tiger. stan will give it to him, just calm down. take a breath."

mitch looked to you. those eyes you were so used to now just boring into your own, but somehow your gentle touch and the way you spoke to him were enough to make him listen. the name wasn't a tease anymore, it was becoming an endearment.

the touches continued; subtle at first, meant for taming the beast. and his hands... although calloused and large, were only ever delicate and gentle when they handled you. mitch was your protector - not for the sake of a team, but because needed to care for you. he wanted to care for you.

there was a time that fluttered between lips on skin and giggles mixed with heated breaths. soft sheets twisted with naked bodies as hands dragged over every inch of warmth and bareness, a hotel room after days of laying low, and the only amusement was each other. the arms that protected you so much were now caging your body to a bed as your nails raked down the muscular back of your sinewy partner.

mitch was buried within you, and one particular drag of your joint bodies over the sheets made you tug at his locks and bite down on his shoulder. he growled out, plauful at first with his dimpled cheeks until it was utterly pornographic.

"give it to me, tiger."

and he did. all night long.

hurley thought it was sickening how easily mitch softened after your time together. your partner was a lost puppy, a shadow, completely compliant to you by a single curl of your lips. mitch lived off the praise you threw to him so sincerely - and he honestly, had never been better at his job.

it was the final showdown on your mission, and mitch restrained himself from pulling you behind him. he knew that you were capable and he respected that - he loved it, frankly. but the moment he saw the glock pointed toward your head, he made sure that he got in first and the assailant was down. you ran to him, arms securing around his frame as you squeezed in gratitude.

hurley was moaning in your headsets about how there was no time for affection, but you two never listened. with a kiss to your partner's scruffy cheek, you breathed shakily into the curve of his neck,

"way to go, tiger."

[thepixelelf]

one night romance chan x reader x frat president seungcheol warnings: coarse language, alcohol, possessive (derogatory) cheol. tmnt references. idk how frats work. wc: 868

love triangle au requests (this one is for @hey-blondie <3)

[what's holding you back?] "Seungkwan!" Chan calls out, rushing into the recently-tidied kitchen area of the frat house he's finally dared to step foot in. "Seungkwan Seungkwan Seungkwan Seungkwan Seungkwan!"

Said man's eyes widen as Chan slips directly into him as a result of all the spilled alcohol and dignity on the tile flooring. Seungkwan catches him, barely. "Oof. Shit, Chan-- What?"

Righting himself, Chan beams, his bright smile making Seungkwan's face twist in confusion. Chan's skipped out on just about every party he's ever been invited to since first year, and he'd been complaining about smell of the place just ten minutes ago. Seungkwan couldn't refute that, of course. A house full of twenty-somethings, and mostly frat guys at that? Not exactly ideal. Still, more than a couple of Seungkwan's (and by association, Chan's) friends are part of this fraternity, and the parties are extremely preferred to academic readings, in his opinion.

As Chan catches his breath, Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "You look like a madman."

"They're here!"

Seungkwan connects zero dots. "Who's here?"

"Donatello!"

Zero. "Who?"

"Seungkwan." Chan put both his hands on Seungkwan's shoulders. "My soulmate."

Two. His eyes widen. "The person from your cousin's weddimmfh--?!"

Chan slaps his hand over Seungkwan's mouth, frantically looking toward the common area before meeting eyes again and hushing out, "Shhh-- Yes! They're literally right over there on the couch! What are the odds!"

Seungkwan grabs Chan's hand and shoves it away. "Wasn't that wedding in another country? How the hell...?"

Something dangerously sparkly shines in Chan's eyes. "It's fate."

"Are you sure it's them?"

"You think I'd forget what the love of my life looks like?"

Seungkwan crosses his arms. "Chan, the love of your life left you in an empty hotel room."

"They had an early flight," Chan defends not for the first time, just as adamant as every other time he's told his friends about his whirlwind one-night romance.

"And they didn't leave you their number, or any social media."

Chan shrugs. "We were talking about life, not the internet." He smiles at the memories that must be flashing by in his mind. "And then we weren't talking."

"Don't even start there, dude." Seungkwan's heard more than enough in that department. "They didn't tell you their name."

"I--" The corners of Chan's mouth turn downward, and something like disappointment flashes over his face. "Yeah."

Seungkwan meant to bring Chan a bit closer to reality, but it wasn't his intention to totally bum the guy out. He takes a breath. "Why do you call them Donatello, again?"

Chan's eyes brighten. "They wore a purple blindfold for the pinata."

"Right. A pinata at a wedding."

"There were a bunch of kids!" He stares toward the common area again. "They were so cute with the kids..."

"Okay, okay, Splinter," Seungkwan says, putting a hand on Chan's shoulder and walking them both a little closer to the border between the kitchen and the packed common area. "Before you go imagining a whole nuclear family and white picket fence with this person, let me at least meet them. Where are they?"

Chan doesn't answer, just smiling into the crowd, and Seungkwan sighs. Lovestruck. That's what this is. He follows Chan's eyes to a couch all the way across the room, where someone kind of close to Chan's mystery Donatello's description is sitting, a strong arm slung over the cushion directly behind their shoulders.

An arm belonging to--

"Wait." Seungkwan grips Chan's arm stopping him from just waltzing right over. "Wait, Chan. It's not" --he points a shaky hand at you-- "them, is it?"

It's like Chan barely hears the question. He just lets out a dreamy (borderline creepy) sigh like a cartoon princess. "Perfect, right?"

"Chan, listen to me." Seungkwan spins Chan to face him and puts both his hands on his shoulders. "You cannot pursue this person. Absolutely not. They're off limits."

Snapping out of it, Chan frowns. "Off limits?"

"Entirely. They're Seungcheol's."

"Who?"

Seungkwan glances across the room again, where you laugh at something someone says, and the man in question -- with his arm not technically around you but pretty damn close -- looks at you with such a wide smile that his eyes become delighted crescents.

"Choi Seungcheol," Seungkwan explains, keeping his voice low even though no one in the immediate vicinity gives a shit what they're talking about. "He's the president here."

Chan looks over at you, sounding defeated when he asks, "They're dating?"

"Well..." Seungkwan hesitates, and Chan whips his head back.

"They're not dating?"

Grimacing, Seungkwan shakes his head, unsure of how to explain the mess that is you and Choi Seungcheol and this whole stupid fraternity. "They're-- No, they're not dating. I think. They're friends. I think. No one's really said it explicitly... but everyone knows not to make a move on Donatello because Seungcheol has, like..."

Chan frowns. "Dibs?"

"Ew, dude. They're a person."

Crossing his arms, Chan shrugs Seungkwan's hands off his shoulders. "I know. You're the one making it sound like that guy is treating them like they're not. So?"

"So?" Seungkwan echoes, confused.

"They're not dating, and this Choi Seungcheol person sounds like a piece of shit. So what am I still doing here?"

Blinking, Seungkwan just stares at Chan.

He thinks about it.

And after thinking for not very long, he nods and says, "Go. I've got your back."