#but !!!!!! it turned out really good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fluffypurpleglitterdemon]

#svsss#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#shen jiu#scum villain#scum villain's self saving system#shen jiu: what do you MEAN there has been a chronicle of my gruesome demise this entire time?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT BEAST KILLS US???#shen yuan: oh did you read it. did you finally read the thing I've been telling you read#forever? did you? jackass#shen jiu: well fine then I can see why we should not be hitting this hornet's nest and obviously trying to kill him won't work#shen jiu: but I draw the line at seducing him that's your job just do it while I'm not there and don't tell me about any of it#shen yuan: ...we're who the what now? (via @sunderwight)

Scum Villain AU where Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu transmigrate by swapping lives (i.e. Shen Yuan wakes up in Shen Qingqiu's body on Qing Jing Peak, post-fever, while Shen Jiu wakes up in Shen Yuan's body in a hospital in modern China) but it doesn't quite work right.

The system glitches or something and they end up having to jointly time share their lives. Every time a certain moon phase or something (cyclical) comes around they abruptly switch back.

So they spend the entire time trying to undo everything the other one has been up to while everyone around them is just desperately attempting to figure out wtf is going on. Shen Yuan does the skinner quest and stops Luo Binghe's abuse, and Shen Jiu gets a job with a rival company and starts showing up Shen Yuan's brothers. Then they switch back and Shen Jiu is like "it's woodshed o'clock for the beast" and Shen Yuan resigns. Then they switch back again and Shen Yuan saves Liu Qingge's life and gets poisoned defending Luo Binghe, and Shen Jiu creates his own start-up and blackmails his eldest brother about the mistress he's just uncovered. Then they switch back and Shen Yuan gets his brother and his sister-in-law into couples counseling and Shen Jiu embarks on a quest to either cure himself without Liu Qingge's help or die trying.

Eventually they just start leaving bitchy messages for one another to find and doing things that won't cause lasting damage but are incredibly petty. Shen Yuan keeps trying to tell Shen Jiu to read PIDW but Shen Jiu takes one look at his merch-filled bachelor pad and immediately decides that his opinions aren't worth anything, so it takes him a while to actually do it (he is really mad about this when he finally opens the novel and it turns out to be extremely relevant information).

[inkskinned]

lately i've been a feminist killjoy.

2. i pirate all my media, and therefore am not familiar with most tv commercials. i went to a superbowl party. around me were appetizers and bean dip and wine and the rolling movement of people talking - and meanwhile i was sitting there, stonefaced and bonechilled. the extraordinary, willful, in-your-face sexism and racism of advertising. what an odd whiplash: the warm and smiling hosts handing me nachos - in the background, some casual repetition of conservative gender roles. more than once i had to turn to my girlfriend - are you seeing this?

3. often i think of how rainbow capitalism is a canary in a coal mine. i think of what one google employee said when they took down their "don't be evil sign" - he mentioned that while it hadn't really done anything, the removal of it was... eerie. it isn't that i needed pride-themed fast fashion items from target. it's that the pushback to said items has now resulted in the company's looming silence. it's that the pushback worked. target is now among the list of companies aiming to "roll back" DEI initiatives. a false friend, i guess - but a bellwether nonetheless.

4. i remember five, ten years ago rolling my eyes at the faux-feminist faux-activist stuff advertisements would put out. i mean, who can forget that pepsi ad, oh my god. i remember girlboss anthems and lukewarm representation. but it did seem like someone was, you know, trying to be thoughtful. but if we follow the money, i think it's fair to say it used to be a good idea to at least appear "politically correct." now though - who cares? look at the man we chose for politics.

5. i am working my girlfriend through her first watch of FMA: Brotherhood. it should be a sweet deal, and instead, i oscillate from peaceful to pacing. the ads drive me insane. i've been counting - at least three involve a man silencing a woman in some way. two involve a white man silencing a woman of color. in my least favorite, she's sitting at her desk, trying to say the same thing he's saying. but he keeps fucking interrupting her. ha ha. don't even ask me what the ad is even for. i don't understand the plot of the thing. i think the whole idea is just "man talks over a woman. buy our product" but with like, somehow worse pacing.

6. on national tv, in front of millions of viewers, kanye posts an ad for his website that is selling a single white T shirt, a product titled HH. a swastika is emblazoned on it. people can't even talk about how fucking terrible that is - their videos get flagged as soon as they actually say what's happening. i am sitting at home staring at my stupid phone, just quietly stunned. we can make a rapist president, but we cannot say the word rape on most social media platforms. elon can nazi salute on television without consequence, but you can't use the word "female" in your research grant request without being flagged. the enormity of it all is impossible to grasp.

7. there's a company called "his", which sells things for erectile dysfunction. the ads are trucks and masculinity and very gender affirming. the same company has a "hers" line, which is a barely-tested weight-loss injection developed and sold by recently-rebranded absolutely evil company Eli Lilly. in the ad, women who are "overweight" grapple with their barely-visible stomach and smile, beautifully at peace while delivering their own "treatment."

8. i read a lot, though. i spend a lot of time online. someone recently said i write almost exclusively from a place of panic, which they didn't like. it made me laugh though - can any artist say differently right now? still. still! i sat on that couch and watched how casually bigotry is repeated, with no real audience reaction. am i just radicalized and unfortunately very easily annoyed? am i the problem here? can't i just like, relax and let it happen?

9. we stand in line at the movie theatre. i make some snide remark about how the poster we're looking at is basically "sexy trophy smiles knowingly at our hero, nerdy boy". from behind me, some guy snorts down his nose. feminist killjoy.

10. the thing is. i don't want to be like this. it's just like. in my fucking home.

[leyavo]

Simon x Cat x Neighbour!reader

Part two > (previous part)

Simon Riley was a lot like his cat, dropping by your flat whenever he wanted. Thanking you for looking after Cat in small little ways.

Bringing you home little trinkets from his work travels. “Got it from some market, can’t tell you where though. Would have to kill ya and I really don’t want that.” Little things that line every inch of your windowsill, crystals he’s found because he knows you like them.

Thankfully it wasn’t a mouse, Simon hunting one down after Cat delivered one to you. And as you watched him pause, head angled to listen for the squeaks or little scurries. You couldn’t help but think he was a cat too. For a big guy, he was light on his feet and everything he did quiet.

“Dinner?” You asked, trying not to look at the mouse dangling between Simon’s finger and thumb by its tail. “Not a huge fan of rodent.”

He invites you into his flat for the first time, promising that it’s rodent free. “Woah your place is real big,” you say, opening your arms in the space as if you expected to touch wall to wall. Simon’s thinking of all the activities he could do with you, but decides dinners a good start.

Dinner turns into grabbing a morning coffee after a run and even going on evening runs, which angers him because before him you never would have done so alone. Sitting on the bench in the park to stretch or take a rest as you sip your water bottle, stickers decorating the outside.

When the pipe under your sink was dripping water for months, he fixed it and you didn’t find out till you went to check if the bucket was full of water again. No, no bucket under the sink. There was a small tool box in its place, stuff you had no idea what to do with.

Cat was drinking from the bucket under the sink, that’s how Simon discovered it. He’s even got a picture of it on his phone as well as a load of pictures you’d sent him with Cat. Sometimes he looks through them in his room back at the base. A few videos of your soft voice calling Cat.

So you sent him a picture of said toolbox and messaged him. “Did the fairies visit me?” He didn’t respond till the next day, “big bloody fairy.” promising to show you what they were for and sending you a video of basic plumbing if you wanted to learn yourself whilst you waited for his return.

Cue Simon teaching you how to fix the plumbing in your flat. The two of you squeezed into the little box of a bathroom as he listened to you explain about the low pressure of the shower and the tap on the sink you wanted to swap with something pretty.

The eroded shower hose snapping and spraying the both of you with water. Simon’s hoody drenched, sticking to every curve and dip of his muscles. Your back leant against the wall as his arm reached above you to turn the water off.

“I really wanna kiss ya,” he said, head inching closer to yours, gaze flitting to your lips. “Kiss me.”

You use his place for sex and make sure Cat is in your flat, “don’t want the kid to see,” is what Simon says.

Whenever Simon sees you’ve run out of anything, he’ll pick it up when he’s doing his weekly food shop. The coffee sachets refilled when you go to the kettle and when you ask, Simon shrugs “the fairies,” he says, sipping his cup of tea with the morning paper.

Even when you are officially dating you were still going between the two flats. Joking that cat had the studio and you could stay with Simon.

[carnalcrows]

MILK YOU DRY - THANOS

pairing: thanos x top male reader

synopsis: This is why you never accept things from people you don't know.

content warnings: 18+, bottom thanos, drug usage, riding, cockwarming, semi-public sex

word count: 0.4k (this is short as fuck lolol)

It all started with one little pill.

"Come on, man. It'll take the edge off," Thanos had said, pressing the tiny thing into your palm with that signature smug smirk. "Consider it a gift. Or an investment."

You had hesitated for all of three seconds before shrugging and dry-swallowing it. Bad decision? Maybe. But you were already knee-deep in the nightmare that was the death game you were currently stuck participating in, so what was one more risk? Plus, Thanos had this way of talking that made everything sound like a good idea, even the objectively stupid ones.

Fast forward fifteen minutes later, and you were absolutely wrecked.

"You're so—you're so soft," you slurred, hands gripping Thanos' waist as he straddled your lap inside a bathroom stall, your cock happily burrowed in his ass. The world was spinning in a fun way, your limbs felt light, and Thanos smelled like cigarette smoke and…vanilla?

"You’re so gone," he snickered, arms slung around your shoulders, his fingers playing with the back of your hair. "Damn, you really can't handle your stuff."

"I can handle you just fine," you shot back, half-lidded eyes locking onto his. That seemed to be the magic phrase because Thanos grinned, leaned in, and kissed you, as he slowly bounced on your cock– the overstimulation and the effects of the pill making your brain go mushy.

It was messy. It was uncoordinated. It was hands roaming where they shouldn’t and teeth clashing because neither of you had enough patience to slow down. Thanos was warm in your lap, your cock in his tight ass grounding you just enough to keep your head from floating off entirely.

"You're kinda hot when you're like this," he murmured against your lips before biting down—hard enough to make you hiss.

"You're kinda a menace," you shot back, fingers digging into his hips, dragging him back onto your length.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open barely registered at first. But then, a very familiar and exasperated voice filled the stall.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Both of you froze.

Slowly—very slowly—you turned your head. And there, standing in the doorway with an expression of pure disbelief, was Nam-gyu.

Thanos, the absolute menace that he was, didn't even look fazed. If anything, his grin widened as he leaned back, still comfortably perched on your lap. "Hey, Nam-gyu. We were just—"

"I can see what you were just." Nam-gyu pinched the bridge of his nose. "I leave you alone for twenty minutes, and this is what happens?"

You opened your mouth to come up with some kind of excuse, but all that came out was an unhelpful, "Uh."

Nam-gyu exhaled, shaking his head before stepping inside and shutting the stall door behind him. The last thing you saw before exhaustion came over you was the absolutely devilish smirk spreading across his face.

Well. This was gonna be interesting.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[bi-writes]

ok wait pause i have a question. first date, but like, real, you are my girlfriend date ? or like how'd they define their relationship (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

he's...fun.

it's just sex. mind-blowing, back-numbing, pussy-destroying sex. this man is pushing 40, and you swear you've never felt so out of breath. you convince yourself it's the military thing--he's used to pushing himself, exerting energy, testing the limits of his stamina. but holy shit, you'd think after round four, this man would take a quick nap or something, but no.

he's still balls-deep, hitting it from the back since you can't even keep yourself upright any longer. your skirt lays haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and oh--there's your panties, too, ripped to lacy shreds.

holy shit, this man is more than ten years older than you, and you've never been so out of your fucking mind--

"tha' the spot, love?" his voice is so condescending. he knows he's got you brainless. there's drool staining your lips, and you paw at the sheets for a better grip, but it's useless.

"y-yes, captain."

the low groan that leaves him makes you smile. he might have the upper hand, but if you really wanted to, you could make him come right now, too fast, too much.

you're in bliss. everything is bliss. you're still recovering from what must be the fifth or sixth orgasm--not as good as the second or third one, but still enough to make you cry fat, pleasured tears. you're shaking, in a good way, sinking to your stomach on the bed and pressing your face into his pillow.

"hmm..." your voice is soft and gooey, and when you take a deep breath, you get a long whiff of him. he smells good. clean. earthy. you tasted cigar smoke in his mouth earlier, and you can smell it here, too. just as you relax, you feel the weight of him on your back, and then his lips. he's kissing along your shoulder to your neck and then up your jaw. you tilt your head to give him room, your eyes shutting as his beard scruffs against your skin and his mouth laps at your chin. "i gotta go, john."

you giggle when he lays his entire body on top of yours, trapping you there. you reach up and grip the back of his neck, whining as he flattens his tongue against your jaw and swirls it there.

"john...i gotta go."

"why?"

"mmm..." you thumb at the hair along his scalp, shaking your head. "don't do this, john."

"not doing anythin'."

"we don't sleep over, john."

"what, is tha' some kind of rule? sounds mad."

you turn over a little, looking up at him. you cup his beard in both hands, giving him a chaste kiss.

"don't ruin it, john," you say softly. "this is supposed to be fun."

he tilts his head to the side. he looks so funny without a hat. you've seen him in a beanie, a boonie hat, a cap, you love them all on him. he looks nice like this, too, though--ass naked with his dog tags dangling against his sweaty pecs.

john's eyes twitch a little at your indifference. he settles on his side, leaning over you, and just as you move to get up, he reaches and grips at your face with a big paw of a hand. you clutch at his forearm, big and solid, and your lips pucker as he pulls you closer to him.

"y'r a bad liar, love," he mutters, shaking his head. "fear doesn't suit you."

"i'm not fucking scared."

"who was it?"

you glare up at him, struggling a bit under him. it's a stupid thing to think that you could get away from him. john is not moveable. he's a big fucking tree trunk of a man, with roots that burrow, and you are truly naïve if you think he'll let you up without an answer.

"shut the fuck up, john," you spit at him, but all he does is raise a brow. he's immune to your bite. he's not phased by your sour attempt at insulting him. in fact, it's what drew him to your bed in the first place--certified brat-tamer, captain john price. "you think you're so fucking smart. think you know everything, just because you've got a few years on me, well let me tell you, john--not everything is a fucking lesson learned. you're a military muppet with a decent cock, and that's all you'll ever be to me."

"tha' right?"

"you'll never put me first. you've got one woman, and that's the job, and that's fucking fine, john, but don't make this something it's not. you're lonely, and old, and your failed relationships don't make you wiser, they make you delusional for thinking that doing this again could ever--"

your breath falters when he kisses you. he squeezes your jaw a little harder, forcing your mouth to open, and you moan, squeezing your thighs together when he licks into your mouth and holds you there for him to play with.

"i do have other obligations. my men, the job..." he brushes the hair out of your eyes, and he presses his forehead to yours when he sees the tremble of your bottom lip and the wet look in your eyes. "but i don't do casual, sweetheart. it's all or nothing f'me."

your hand grips his wrist, squeezing tight, and you blink up at him. he's so close. he's right here. blue eyes, greying beard, a sad expression. he's not afraid of dying alone, but he is afraid of wasting time.

"please don't do this to me, john." your voice cracks, and he shrugs. he's sorry, but he's not sorry enough. not enough to let you go--and you're not strong enough to tell him no. it has to be him, but it won't be.

"it's alright," john whispers, but he knows it won't be. he's known you not but a few weeks, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't understand casual. even from the moment he saw you in that bar, it wasn't fleeting, it was definitive. it would be his. you would be his.

even if you were actually someone else's. even if you were bound to someone else. even if you weren't alone, it was already decided.

john's teeth are stuck here, right here, in the hollow of your throat. his fingers are twisted between the chords of your heart and in the spaces between your ribs. if he lets go, he'll break you apart.

so he's never going to let go.

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 16 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You get lucky and you get to go out. And then you're not so lucky anymore.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, oral sex, rough sex, choking, face slapping, biting, breeding kink, degradation kink, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The darkness wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t even the uncertainty.

The worst part was, that after everything that had happened, you were back in here.

Back in the closet.

Back in the small, cramped space of the empty closet, where you had spent quite a few days so far. Back then it had always been to discipline you, to break you, to turn you into someone you were not – or someone you knew you were, deep down.

Whatever it was, it was in the past. You had really thought it had been the last time back then, but there you were. On your knees, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall for support.

The dizziness was so apparent that you felt you might lose the ground beneath your feet any second. Something was off.

You had often felt sick in your life, but this was different. You were different.

You weren’t supposed to be there. No matter the reason. Not like this, not anymore, not-

How did it get to this point yet again?

You kept your eyes closed and tried to breathe calmly, shutting the darkness out. In your head, you recalled everything that had happened that day. It had started so good. Almost like you were in a movie. And now you were here again.

In and out. In. And out.

You remembered the water. Soft and warm, as he slowly poured it over your head. God, it had felt heavenly. His ministrations, his kisses on your neck and the warm water which glided down your skin in a way that made you melt. Nothing was sexual about it, it was simply…warm. And safe.

With your back pressed against his chest, you leaned back against him in the bathtub. It wasn’t all too spacious, but it was enough. It was all the better, actually. You felt him so close without really feeling him. Without the sensation of having his hands reach for the sensitive parts of your body. Instead he ran them up your back and gently massaged your shoulders, easing every knot and tense muscle until you felt like a new person.

You kept your eyes closed and sighed softly, reveling in the way the warm water hugged your lower body. The callouses on his hands sent shivers down your spine, while he kept gently massaging you. He went from massaging, to soaping and cleansing with a fresh bit of lukewarm water. The thing you loved most was when he slowly poured it over your head and gently massaged your scalp with his fingertips.

“Oh God, that feels so good.” You heard yourself whisper, followed by a soft sigh. You heard the way he smirked behind you, before he rested his chin on your shoulder and pressed a soft kiss against your cheek. That made you smile in return.

“Are you feeling any better?” He murmured.

You had spent the previous night tossing and turning, feeling rather dizzy, despite the fact that you lay down flat and had your eyes shut. That happened sometimes, it had always been like that. There were some nights when you simply felt sick and the only thing that helped was fresh air and a cool cloth on your forehead. Both things he had done for you. He hadn’t hesitated to pull out his chip and open the window. Then he went to the bathroom and came back with a damp cloth. He had placed it over your forehead and eyes and spent half the night sitting beside you, occasionally dampening the cloth anew. You had never seen him like that. So soft, so concerned. So…everything you loved about him.

Of course you loved his darkness all the same. Probably not all of it. You didn’t quite appreciate when he got angry and cut your hair. But that hadn’t happened ever since that one time.

He hadn’t dared to lay down or even think about sleeping, until you were firmly asleep.

The next morning he waited for you, when you woke up, a buttered piece of bread and a cup of tea by your bedside. You had somehow choked it down, because you didn’t quite feel like yourself yet, but it had helped. And now you were here, in his gentle embrace, enjoying his warmth and care.

“Very much.” You whispered back. “Thank you.”

He hummed in response and picked up a soapy cloth, with which he began to gently rub your back.

You closed your eyes and suppressed a content moan. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Someone has to.”

That made you chuckle. “And that someone has to be you?”

He briefly stopped with his ministrations and you could practically hear the way he raised his brows. “Don’t even joke about that.”

That gave you a warm smile. “Silly old man.” You murmured.

He laughed at that and pinched your side, causing you to shriek out a laugh and nearly flood the whole bathroom floor. “Who are you calling old?”

You chuckled and looked over your shoulder. “I won’t take it back.”

He cocked a brow and pinched your side again.

“Okay, okay!” You laughed breathlessly. “You win.”

He smirked and pulled you flush against his chest again, wrapping his arms around your torso. You gently circled his wrists and pressed a soft kiss against one of them. “I’m really happy.” You said quietly.

He was quiet for a moment, obviously caught off-guard by your words. It was like a part of him still expected you to try and flee if you got the chance, just like a part of you always expected his hand to twitch when you teased him too much.

“Why?”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “Can’t you ever just leave things be?”

He hummed and shook his head. “Why?”

You shot him a cocky grin. “Because the most handsome man in South-Korea decided to abduct me.”

“Abduct? Oh, please. It’s not my fault you got no sense of self-preservation.” He shrugged. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to get into strangers cars?”

“If I refused you back then, don’t you think you would have found another way to get me? After all, you did some pretty sketchy shit long before.”

He smirked. “Do we have to go on about this every day now?”

Now it was you who hummed and smirked right back at him. “After all, you went and stole my underwear. How original.”

“Don’t make me tickle you again.”

“No, no, no, no, no – ah!” You laughed and splashed some water in his face. He responded in kind, so you had to squeeze your eyes shut.

Low laughter rumbled in his chest, until eventually he fell quiet again and gently caught your chin between two fingers. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

You smiled warmly. You had no response for that.

You leaned back against him and closed your eyes. Everything was perfect. This was far better than anything you had ever read in any book, seen in any movie or imagined in your head. He was your dark prince, your savior. You were indeed made for each other. You saw it now. He was twisted, it was no secret and he had hurt you in more than one way. But none of them were irreparable. He had hurt you, locked you away, humiliated you, played with your life – but he had also freed you. He had shown you what love meant. What passion was. That you were indeed someone. Someone worthy of love and care. You were his.

And he was yours.

“Would you like to go out to eat today?”

Your eyes snapped open in a cartoonish way and you sat up straight faster than intended. You spun around and stared at him like a fool.

His lips twitched at the corners and his eyes twinkled in amusement. “So, is that a yes?”

You kept staring at him. A part of you expected it to be either a test or a joke, but despite his amusement, he seemed rather serious about it.

“Really?” You whispered in a voice that was barely audible. You wanted to be happy about it, but a part of you held back. Your mind was ready to, but you body braced itself for a fit of disappointment.

But his expression didn’t waver and instead, he nodded softly.

“I trust you.” He said gently. His words, combined with his soft voice, sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I trust you not to deceive me.”

Of course you heard the subtle threat behind his words. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. You were quite good when it came to reading his intentions. His emotions. They were there. Even when he tried to make it appear like there were none.

“I won’t.” You whispered further. “I’d never.”

Two hours later you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, nervously fidgeting with your ponytail. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly that made you so nervous. Was it the fact that you hadn’t been properly outside in months? Had the world changed in the time being?

No.

No, it was something else.

You were afraid. Terrified, even. You were terrified of making a mistake and destroying the lovely cloud that had built around you. The safe space that you felt whenever you were around him, taking a bath together or cooking, while he stood behind you, a hand on your hip as he watched what you were doing over your shoulder.

“Take as much time as you need.” You heard him call out from the living room. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You looked good. You wore the dark green dress and you felt as confident in it as you possibly could. It still felt kind of foreign for you to go out, looking like this, being on his arm. But you knew you would manage it. He would help you through it. Talk you through it. Hold you and guide you, the same way he always did.

And so you finally made your way out.

He sat on the couch, his ankle over his knee and he stared down at his hands, while he waited. He wore a suit and a tie, his hair slicked back casually like it normally was. He looked so effortlessly perfect.

Once he noticed you, he looked up and his entire face lit up at the sight of you.

“Look at that.” He murmured and you smiled.

“Can we?”

He got up and held out his hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with his, you slowly made your way towards the door.

“Don’t be nervous.” He whispered in your ear as he slowly reached for the chip in his chest pocket. “I’m right here.”

You nodded and nibbled on your lower lip, when you heard the soft click of the door. And it opened. Just like that. It was open, open for you. You trembled when you stepped over the threshold. For the first time in how many months? You were outside. Outside. In the real world. But you weren’t the same woman you were when you first came here. The timid mouse who knew nothing but the reality she made for herself. No, now you were here and you were his.

His girl.

You took the elevator to the first floor and took a long glance around. So many things you hadn’t noticed the first time. The black wall that was such a big contrast to the other, white ones. The ceiling fan.

The letter box.

The letter box – it had to have his name on it. It had to. He lived here, right? He had to be there, there had to be some kind of record of him. He was someone, he was holding your hand for God’s sake, he had to-

He followed your gaze and his hold on your hand tightened subtly.

He leaned down, so his lips grazed your earlobe and he whispered: “Go ahead. Take a look.”

It sounded almost challenging, but you were sure, he wouldn’t punish you. Not even if it was a test. Not here, at least. Not outside. Not now.

So, you took a shaky step forward and your gaze followed the rows of names.

48, Apartment 7c belonged to…Blank.

A frown pulled at your lips and he smirked down at you.

“Silly girl.” He mused. “I thought you understood that I’m a ghost. Now, come. You must feel famished.”

You swallowed down your disappointment and followed him.

The moment you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin, the soft breeze of the wind, you stopped walking for a moment. All you could do was freeze on the spot and close your eyes, relishing in the way that it all made you feel. How could you ever before have taken this for granted?

It was perfect. It was Heaven.

You hardly even recognized his gaze on you as all you could focus on was the fact that you were alive.

Alive.

And well. As well as possible, at least.

He smiled at the sight of you and stood back, his hands clasped together in front of his lower body.

“How do you feel now?”

You inhaled deeply and tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth, the love you felt.

It was a single word, but it was hardly enough to capture the way you truly felt.

“Perfect.”

The way to the restaurant went without any further incidents. You decided to walk, because it wasn’t that far and because you had practically begged him to. You wanted to revel in the feeling of this freedom for as long as you could. It didn’t take much to convince him, but he kept his hand on the small of your back possessively the whole way. You didn’t mind that though, not one bit. It was the perfect addition to this wonderful day actually. You belonged to him and he didn’t let you forget it.

When you finally reached the restaurant – a cozy, little Italian place – he led you inside and your heart skipped a beat. The place was filled with all kinds of people, all of them going on about their day and barely acknowledging you. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, obviously trying to gauge your intentions, trying to make sure you stayed in your place and didn’t try to play any tricks on him. But nothing could have been further from your intentions. All you could think about was how you were here, how you kept asking yourself if all of this was real.

Your eyes sparkled in the intimate light of the afternoon sun that shone through the windows as you kept glancing at everything as if you saw it for the first time.

It was like that of course, but it wasn’t your first time going to a restaurant. But it was your first time going out as the woman you now were.

As his.

His eyes followed you with a mixture of amusement and adoration.

The waiter came and he ordered something to drink for the both of you, as well as pizza, pasta and a salad. You hardly even recognized any of it, because you were lost in your own world. Once the waiter left, he reached for your hand and gently squeezed it, capturing your attention.

“How do you feel?”

You smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

He cocked a brow and leaned back. “That’s how you feel, hm?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I just…I feel so…” You sighed deeply and gently ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “I love it here. And I love you.”

His lips curved into a slow smile. “Looks like I’ll be forced to take you out more often then.”

Soon the food and the drinks arrived and you stared down at everything with wide, nearly wild, eyes.

“Dig in, darling.”

You took a bite of the Carbonara pasta and you immediatelyhad to bite back a groan. “Oh God, this is good.”

He smirked as he watched you eat in silence.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Give me a moment.” He murmured. “I’m appreciating the sight.”

That made you smirk. “Stop buttering me up and eat something. I feel like a caveman compared to you.”

That made him laugh. A warm, rich sound. A sound you adored and you wished to hear for the rest of your life, actually.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not the silly one. Open up.” You picked up the spoon and looked at him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Despite his reservations, he obeyed and parted his lips, allowing you to feed him a spoonful Spaghetti Carbonara. He hummed in response and licked his lips in a way that made your own mouth run dry.

“Delicious.” He purred.

You looked at him with the same mischievousness and slowly lifted the spoon to your lips, the same spoon he had just lapped at, and it disappeared inside your mouth.

His eyes darkened as he watched you with a playful gleam. “Tease.”

You smiled innocently and took a bite of the pizza. It tasted warm and rich, the cheese was practically melting on your tongue. “Me? A tease? Never.”

He grinned and playfully flicked your earlobe.

You laughed and swatted his hand away.

“Hey!” You bit your lip and tilted your head to the side. “I’ll show you what a tease can do.”

Before he even had the time to react, you placed your hand on his knee, sliding it up the tiniest bit on his thigh. His eyes widened and he nearly choked on his tea. Poor him. It was probably hot.

“Don’t you dare.” He murmured.

Your fingertips wandered up further, while you kept your eyes fixed on his. All the while you used your free hand to take another bite of the pizza.

“Don’t I dare what?” You murmured in feigned innocence.

He exhaled slowly through his nose as he watched you through his darkened eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He said lowly.

Your hand just barely skimmed over the growing bulge in his pants, but you caught the way he closed his eyes and held himself back from making any sounds.

“You-“

You began to gently massage his hardness through the fabric of his pants and now you clearly heard the way his breathing sped up.

You had no idea what on earth was going on with you. This wasn’t like you, not at all actually. But the day had started off so wonderful and it only ever got better. He was so sweet and considerate, though he was always on guard. You just wanted to make him melt a little, like he always did you.

“You were saying?” You whispered softly.

He finally looked up at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You looked deeply into his eyes and a new sort of heat covered your cheeks and inside your chest. You wanted nothing more than to see him crumble, to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.

“But I can.”

You glanced around and before he knew it, you were already under the table. The table cloth was so long that it covered you completely and kept you from prying eyes.

His own eyes widened and he nearly let out a startled breath. He glanced around as well, before his eyes settled on your form under the table. His gaze was as incredulous as it was hungry.

“Are you insane?” He hissed while you were already on your best way to free him from the confinement of his slacks.

You smirked devilishly and didn’t make any sound, you just focused on the task at hand. A second later he was free and yet another second later, your mouth enveloped him.

He tensed beneath your touch and his hand instantly tangled in your hair. You observed the way his eyes fell shut and he didn’t even try to keep a straight face.

“Oh God, you’re such a fucking idiot.” He breathed out and tightened his hand in your hair. “Oh God, yes, like that. Don’t stop.”

You gently sucked on the tip before you took him in completely again, causing him to bite back a groan.

You heard someone passing by and he quickly straightened up, schooling his expression, but the look in his eyes was wild.

You made a point of sucking slightly harder whenever someone passed by your table and he tugged on your ponytail warningly.

You smirked against his skin and flicked your tongue against his tip, before you slowly pulled back.

“Tell me that you love me.”

His head snapped up and he looked at you with a frown. “What?”

You nearly brushed your lips against him, but pulled back the last moment, leaving him aching and bucking his hips against the place where your mouth had just been.

“Tell me that you love me.” You whispered again.

He stiffened and glanced around, as if that was the most scandalous part about this.

He grunted and shot you a dark look.

“Stop this.”

You made a point of almost kissing him, before you pulled back again.

He let out a soft sigh, but didn’t try to guide your movements. He just stared at you with growing impatience.

“Come on-“

“It’s true, isn’t it? So, say it.”

You licked along his shaft, but missed the tip on purpose. His eyes fluttered shut and he cupped your cheek in his hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle. You had actually expected him to be beyond livid.

“I love you.” He breathed out and ran his thumb along your temple.

Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed. He still had trouble saying it and you were well aware that it wasn’t the most elegant way to tickle it out of him like that, but sometimes you just needed it. You needed to feel like you were in control of something. And he needed to learn it, right?

After all you had learned so many things for him.

Dresses. Sex. Trust.

Pain.

And love.

“I love you, too.” You whispered back. But you didn’t give him time to think about your words or the fact that he had said them, because you quickly went back to pleasuring him and this time, you weren’t being teasing about it.

Instead you worked your mouth on him in a way that had him writhing and trembling in his seat. His grip on your hair was tight, but not in the way it usually was. He didn’t hold onto you to guide your movements. This was your show. You were the one in control. He just kept his tight hold on you to keep himself from making any sounds.

When you felt him spill himself into your mouth, his body was shaking so hard, it was probably obvious for everyone close-by. But you didn’t care and he obviously didn’t either, because he buried his face in his free hand and tried to breathe out as quietly as he could. The pleasure nearly sent him spiraling off his chair. After a long, tense moment his breathing slowly slowed down and his grip on you became gentle again. He looked down at you with a soft vulnerability in his eyes that you didn’t get to see often. You had caught him off-guard, while also making him feel like he was indeed the one in control.

And his eyes were soft.

He glanced around to make sure there was no one watching, before he swiftly pulled you back up onto the chair beside his. His draped one arm around your waist and used the other one to quickly get himself decent again.

“You’re such a minx.” He breathed out, still trying to normalize his breathing.

Your lips felt swollen and sore, but you didn’t regret it one bit. You had come to love doing this to him. Nothing turned you on as much as the way his eyes darkened in pleasure.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie. His perfect appearance seemed rather disheveled now and the sight made you smile. You loved being reminded of the fact that he was human. That under the whole act of being stern and angry, cold and emotionless, he was indeed a man with flaws, a man with a past, a man with a name.

He gently tipped your chin up, before he picked up his tea cup and lifted it to your lips, tilting your head back. The hot liquid burned down your throat, but you appreciated the way he always took care of you.

He never allowed you to feel used afterwards. Never. Not even when he was angry with you.

“You’re so beautiful like that, you know that?” He murmured as he set the cup back down.

“How?”

He smiled at you. “When you let go and you’re just being yourself.”

That made you laugh. “You think that was me being myself?”

“Mhm.” He purred. “It might be hard for you to believe, but I think exactly that. Under all that sadness and that silence of yours, there’s actually a girl, hungry for life.”

Your eyes softened as you stared up at him.

He licked his lips and released a slow breath.

“And I, darling, I am dying to be the one to satisfy that hunger.”

The rest of the meal went by without any further outbursts – and it was wonderful. You spent your time laughing and talking about all kinds of things. You learned more and more about him and he learned the things he didn’t already know about you. His family and his childhood were still a taboo topic, but you didn’t mind that. You were sure, once the time was right, he would let you in about that part of his life as well. Just like his job…and maybe, just maybe, even his name.

More than one and a half hours later, you were back outside, slowly making your way through the streets which became more and more crowded the closer you got to the city.

Since everything went on so smoothly, he decided to take you out for a small shopping trip as well. You still felt rather lightheaded after the short night you had, but you couldn’t bring yourself to protest. Every moment outside felt like a little piece of Heaven to you.

So, you walked in silence, his hand on your back and his gaze flicked to you every now and then.

He seemed to be rather deep in thought and you caught yourself wanting to ask him what was on his mind, but you didn’t. You were quite caught up in your own mind.

A few minutes later you reached the mall, a rather crowded space, something that made you feel a bit uneasy. You didn’t like places like this one, so you normally avoided them. But this time you weren’t alone. His hand on your back gave you a great measure of comfort. You curled into his side and took his arm, ready to walk the halls like a normal couple.

It felt surprisingly normal.

You still felt his slightly suspicious gaze. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t relax entirely. Not even the fact that you had just been on your knees for him, when you were normally so closed-off. He had a hard time trusting, something you understood well. But a part of you still wished he would finally try and trust you fully.

As if to reassure him, you shot him a soft smile. He returned it, surprisingly, and his grip on your back eased slightly.

“Where would you like to go?” He murmured into your ear.

You smirked and glanced around.

“The bookstore?”

That made him laugh. “Such an odd girl. The bookstore it is.”

You made your way through countless rows of books, reading and dreaming yourself into the stories, while he stayed firmly by your side and kept his gaze on you. Whichever book you picked up and held in your hand longer than fifteen seconds, he gathered it and propped it under his arm. By the time he scooped up the fifth book, you frowned at him.

“What are you doing?”

He frowned right back. “I’m buying them?”

Surprise flashed over your features, before you suddenly felt like laughing. “What? But I put them back.”

He shrugged. “You seemed to like them.”

You tried to hide the flutter in your chest. “But-“

“Shut up and keep looking, okay?”

You smiled down at your hands, before you set the book you had just held back down and made your way to the cash register.

Of course he picked up that book as well. You held it for a solid twenty seconds.

A few minutes later, you were back to wandering the mall. He had the bag with the books firmly in his hand and he had somehow convinced you to make a stop at Victoria’s Secret as well.

So far, your style had consisted of whatever fast fashion you found that was rather comfortable and didn’t bring you any fuss. But he insisted.

He insisted that you deserved more than that. That you deserved to feel like a princess.

And so he led you down the hallway until you made your way to the lingerie store.

And to your surprise, everything there was beautiful. You had expected to find it rather cliché, but no. Every piece you touched felt like a soft caress.

He made you try on at least seven pieces. A silky, red robe, lingerie of all kinds, a black negligee, a white corsage. And everything looked good on you.

You had half expected him to creep up on you in the changing room and retaliate for what you made him go through in the restaurant, but he waited in front of it patiently, eying every new fit with curiosity and awe. You felt rather relieved, because you still felt the tiniest bit dizzy and the thick air in there didn’t make it any better.

His eyes widened and he tugged at his tie, regarding you with a long look every time, making you turn around from every angle. And eventually, he bought them all for you.

What else did you expect?

He carried all the bags through the great halls of the mall and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling softly. It felt too perfect. He was too perfect.

When you glanced up at him that time, something felt strange and odd.

He didn’t immediately glance back at you. He wasn’t keeping his focus on you in a way that threatened to suffocate you. Instead, he walked beside you with the firm belief that you wouldn’t slip through his fingers. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. Was he finally growing more comfortable? Was he finally trusting you?

You kept staring at him for a moment, feeling caught up in your thoughts, unable to speak. You stared at him and the way his handsome features were tugged into a thoughtful, yet soft expression.

You loved him. And suddenly you wanted to tell him.

You opened your mouth, ready to say the words, when someone bumped into you from the side. It was an elderly couple and the woman quickly regarded you with an apologetic smile. You returned smile and looked back at him, just as quick, only to realize he wasn’t right next to you. Instead there was a group of about seven women, walking around with pink dresses and crowns on their heads. One of them wore a white dress instead and you realized it was most likely her bachelorette party. You caught sight of her face and she glanced right back at you. You smiled softly with a whole lot of fondness in your eyes and she immediately returned the smile.

What a wonderful thought. To have friends and well…A fiancé.

Was that something you could ever anticipate? Was that something you could allow yourself to dream about? Or were you destined to feel nothing but disappointment, whenever that topic came up in your mind?

The moment was fleeting and you quickly looked up to match his pace again, but you suddenly realized he wasn’t anywhere close by. He was a few steps ahead of you. It wouldn’t have been dramatic, if it wasn’t for the crowd of people that slowly built between you.

You saw him come to a halt and check the crowd between you. The softness in his expression immediately turned into something darker. The thoughtfulness turned into anger. And beneath the gentleness of his eyes, which had been there up until then, you saw it.

Panic.

You opened your mouth and raised your hand, waving and trying to make your way back to him, when suddenly-

You gasped out loud when someone suddenly squeezed your elbow. You yanked your arm back forcefully and shot the man a dark look, but he quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Forgive me, miss.” He said in a British accent. “You looked like you speak English. Am I right?”

You frowned slowly and looked up again to catch sight of-

“I just wanted to know – Can you tell me where to find the…uh…” He fumbled with a piece of paper in his hands.

“I’m not from here.” You said, panic rising within yourself. If he thought you had left him? Oh God, of course he would think that.

“Yes, I could tell as much.” The stranger with the dark blonde hair smiled apologetically. “May I ask where you are from?”

“What did you want to know?” You nearly snapped.

You weren’t normally as uncivil, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your patience was wearing thin and you had long but lost sight of the man you loved and who would undoubtedly punish you for this, if you got really unlucky.

“Of course. Pardon. I was asking myself, do you know where I can find the market square?” He smiled hopefully.

“No.” You said shortly. “I told you I’m not from here.” In a softer tone, you added: “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll make it somehow. Pardon me, I really don’t mean to pry, but is it possible you’re from England? Your accent-“

“I really need to find my husband.” Husband. The word sounded equally as ridiculous as it felt thrilling on your tongue.

He held up his hands again and took a step back. “Forgive me.” He smiled. “I got the hint.”

“No, I’m not making this up.” You suddenly felt guilty. “I mean, I was just-“

In that moment you felt a hand on your shoulder, squeezing possessively and you knew it was him, without having to look. When you did meet his gaze, his eyes were blazing and wide, a small stutter to his breath. Your own eyes widened and you opened your mouth helplessly.

“I’m sorry.” You said gently. “There were those women and then this man asked me for-“

When you looked back to introduce him to the mysterious stranger, you suddenly realized he wasn’t there anymore.

“I know.” He hissed lowly in your ear. “I saw him. Now, move.”

He didn’t say a single word all the way home. His eyes were narrowed and he carried all of the bags in one hand, so he kept his other hand on your arm. He held you by your wrist, tighter than before. His tight grip and the tension is body gave away how he truly felt.

Furious.

You swallowed and tried to keep up with his pace as you silently stumbled alongside him. You knew the dynamic had shifted and you were probably in trouble. It felt like that one time he caught you by the open door, only that now you had the great hope that he wouldn’t cut your hair for it.

Or try to choke you to death.

He pushed you into the elevator and pressed the button, only for another woman to enter. He shot you a dark, warning look. It made you sad if you were honest to yourself. Just when you thought that maybe he trusted you, he suddenly didn’t anymore.

You forced a smile when the woman glanced your way. She returned the smile and a few floors later, you made your way back towards the apartment. Somehow, you had a feeling this would be the last time you felt any freedom, for a long time.

Still, you followed him quietly when he held the door open for you. He stepped inside right after you. The sound of the door clicking shut announced the end of your short-lived dream of love and freedom. You closed your eyes to brace yourself, but you hardly had any time to.

He let go of the bags and pushed you against the wall, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders.

Oh, no.

“Do you want him, huh?”

“What?”

“Did he touch you?” He growled without any concern for what you had to say. “Did he get his fucking hands on you, huh? Did you like having his dirty fucking hands on you?”

You knew you were probably supposed to be afraid. But what you felt rather than that was surprised.

Surprised and offended.

And also a tiny bit relieved.

You had expected him to be furious because you got lost in the crowd. Because he’d probably think that you tried to leave.

But he…he was angry, because of the guy?

Was he…

“Are you jealous?”

He slammed your wrists against the wall and gritted his teeth in fury. “Damn right I am.” He hissed. “Did you enjoy the way he ogled you? Did you fucking enjoy it?”

His hands were shaking with barely suppressed anger, but he was somehow holding himself back. For your sake, most likely.

Your chest heaved rapidly.

“He didn’t touch me.” You breathed out.

“Are you sure?” He spat out. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? You’re such a-“ He stopped himself and closed his eyes.

“I’m such a what?” You said quietly.

His eyes snapped open and he glared at you. “You don’t get to give me an attitude. You better keep your mouth shut or else-“

“I’m such a what?!” You snapped back. “Say it! Say it, what am I?!”

He pondered with himself, it was obviously on the tip of his tongue.

His self from a few months ago would have had no trouble to say the word.

But not only you had changed. He had, too.

And now he seemed rather careful when it came to  harsh insults which he had no right to throw your way.

“What am I?” You gritted out. “Say it.”

He took a long breath, trying to calm himself down.

“Did he touch you?”

“He touched my elbow to stop me. But I didn’t let him.”

He bristled and clenched his jaw so hard, you feared he might break his teeth.

“Did you enjoy it?” He spat out. “Did you enjoy his fucking hands on you? Do you wish he was here to fuck you, huh? Do you want him to fucking fuck you?!”

“No!” You took a shaky breath. “No. No.” You then whispered. “I told him I need to find my husband.”

For a second he froze and stared at you with an intensity that was almost painful.

Husband.

You saw the way his eyes flashed and his heartbeat faltered.

“That…that means nothing.” He forced over his lips. “You still let him touch you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he slammed his hand down over your mouth and pressed tightly against it. You gasped in surprise, but held still otherwise.

“Do you know him? Huh? Is he some bastard from work, who tried to get in your pants while you were there?”

Your eyes widened in horror and you quickly shook your head.

“Yes, I’m sure he is.” He gritted out and pressed his whole body against you, pinning you against the wall. “Or maybe he did. Maybe he did get in your pants, huh? Maybe the whole virgin thing was just made up to mess with my mind.”

A pang of hurt made your stomach churn, but you tried to suppress it. He didn’t mean this. He was just angry. And whenever he got angry, he said things he didn’t mean.

“Did he fuck you?”  He spat out. “Did he fuck you? Did he push his goddamn, tiny cock inside you? Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy him?” His voice slowly turned into a whisper. His anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but that was not what you heard when he spat out his words. You heard desperation.

“Do you want him? Do you want him more than me?” His eyes held the same desperate, near-pleading look and you felt your heart soften.

You shook your head again and the look in your eyes mirrored his. Quietly pleading with him to believe you.

When he slowly pulled his hand back, you took a shaky breath.

“I’m yours.” You whispered breathlessly. “I’m only yours.”

The look in his eyes didn’t change, but he loosened his grip ever so slightly.

One of his hands slid down to cup your cheek.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“Yours. I belong to you. Only you.”

“Again…”

“I…”

Your eyes fluttered shut when he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Nothing about it was gentle. The softness of the last few days, weeks even – it disappeared. He kissed you like a man starved, desperate to claim what was his and remind you of that fact.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth and slid his hand further down, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You tilted your chin up and allowed him to. Something about it felt so incredibly thrilling. The way he controlled you, controlled even the fact if and when you were allowed to breathe – you trusted him with your life. And it turned you on like crazy.

You stumbled back to the bedroom, discarding your clothes on the way without ever taking your hands off each other. It was such an intense feeling, the overwhelming passion of being so angry and yet…wanting him.

Wanting him with every fiber of your being.

And he seemed to feel the same way, because he dragged you along and pushed you onto the bed with a low growl. He pressed down against you and moved his leg between your own, while he quickly unclasped your bra and threw it aside. He was only left in his slacks, which you undid with now rather practiced ease, after doing it nearly every day for weeks.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he responded with another deep growl, before he pushed his tongue back into your mouth. His hands ran down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He began to trace kisses down your jaw and neck, over the curve of your breast and back up, until you writhed underneath him, begging and arching your back.

“Stupid girl.” He grunted and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. You moaned and pushed him back, which he didn’t take all too kindly. He hissed and pushed you further down, biting your lip again and now you felt the soft, metallic taste of your own blood on your tongue. You whimpered in response and before you could stop yourself, your hand cracked against his cheek. It wasn’t a hard slap, but enough to catch him off-guard; enough for his head to snap to the side.

Your eyes widened and you let out a startled gasp. He stayed like that for a moment, before he slowly turned his head and looked at you with an unreadable expression.

A part of you was almost sure, oh God, you were going to die.

All of you, actually.

He kept staring at you for a long moment, his lip twitching in what could only be anger. And eventually he crashed his lips against yours again, soothing the bite with his tongue.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you swallowed your relieved sigh, the moment when you felt his hand wrap around your throat again.

“I’m the only one who’ll ever get to fuck you.” He hissed out, one second before he pushed himself inside you and left you gasping for air.

“Fuck, wait-“

“No, baby, no. I’m going to fuck you and you will take it. Aren’t you my good girl? Aren’t you daddy’s good girl?”

He began to fuck you in a punishing pace, not giving you any time to adjust to the sensation of having him inside you at all. You moaned in a mixture of pain and undeniable pleasure, because the feeling of giving up control like that, it did all kinds of things to you. He hadn’t had you like this in weeks, you couldn’t tell how many it had been. And somehow, you missed it.

Fuck, you missed it.

As if on cue he tightened his grip on your throat and you gasped in surprise.

“Do you like this? Huh? My naughty girl. My little whore. Aren’t you my little whore? Huh? My personal little fucktoy?” He grunted while he kept fucking you in a way that made you feel like you were being ripped apart. He kept hitting your sweet spot with such a ferocity that you were sure you were going to burst any second.

“Answer me.” He growled. “Are you my whore?”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, but you forced yourself to nod.

“Good girl.” He breathed out. He suddenly shifted so that he was no longer holding you by your throat with his hand. Instead he pushed his arm behind your head and wrapped it around your neck, pressing his biceps against your throat, while he kept fucking you furiously.

He cut off most of your air supply and you felt a sense of panic rise within you.

He was so strong, too strong for you, so fucking hard and…

You couldn’t breathe, so you clawed at his arm like a cornered animal.

He smirked. The fucking bastard smirked.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He mocked.

You tried to choke out a response, but all that came out was a strangled sound. You were nothing more than his toy to use, his to torment, but suddenly-

Ah, fuck.

You came with an intensity you had probably never felt before. Your eyes rolled back so far, you were afraid they might stay that way and your hips lifted off the mattress, pressing against his. You couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean you were quiet. The strangled sound of your moans reached his ears and he moaned in response. Your walls clenched around him and it never seemed to stop.

It went on and on and on…Until the feeling finally passed.

He immediately pulled his arm back and you collapsed on the bed, hungrily gasping for air. You hadn’t even realized how you clawed at his skin so hard that you broke it.

He bit his lip and looked down at you with a soft frown. “Are you okay?”

“Fucking bastard.” You breathed out and now it was you, who silenced him with a kiss. He was still moving his hips, moving in and out of you, but with gentler movements now, so he didn’t cause your body to go into overdrive.

He smirked against your lips. “Bastard? That’s new.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whispered and buried your hand in his hair, tugging on it. You weren’t exactly gentle about it.

“Feisty.” He groaned into the kiss.

“You have no idea.” You murmured.

With a swift movement, that seemed to kick all the air out of his lungs, you pushed him back and shifted so that you straddled him instead.

“What are you-“

“I said”, you said lowly, “shut up. You nearly killed me. You don’t get to speak.”

The idiot had the audacity to smile.

“You seemed to like it.” He teased.

Your face flushed red in embarrassment and you glared down at him. “I’m not…denying that. But still. It’s my turn.”

His brows rose in surprise, but before he could say anything, you lowered your hips down against his and guided his hardness back inside you. He groaned and his head fell back against the mattress.

“Fuck, there’ll be nothing of me left tomorrow.” He breathed out.

“Makes two of us.” You whispered. Your throat felt sore, but you didn’t care. You wanted to ride the hell, the life out of him. You wanted to see him broken, battered, bruised and satisfied to death.

You began to move your hips, moaning every time you felt him so incredibly deep.

“Are you sure you can handle this? Aren’t you maybe biting off more than you can chew?” He murmured, but it sounded strained.

“Do…you…ever…shut up?” You breathed and squeezed his face in one hand. A particularly hard thrust later, his façade finally crumbled and his eyes fell shut. You did that pelvic floor exercise thing on him you had read about, squeezing him in, taking him in, making him feel you even closer and something suddenly snapped inside of him.

“Fuck-“ He gripped your hips so hard, you were sure you’d have new bruises in the morning.

You kept grinding against him, once, twice, thrice…

And then you stopped. You pulled back and hovered in the air, holding yourself up against his shoulders.

The sound he made was pathetic.

Since it was him, it was a mixture of pathetic and furious, though.

“What are you doing?! Get back-“

“No.”

His eyes widened and he lifted his hips, but you pulled back even further.

“No? What do you mean No?!”

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” You said flatly. His eyes were so wide, he looked insane.

More so than usual.

“You’re- Not-“

That was his weak spot. No matter how terribly he yearned, ached for you, he wouldn’t fuck you when you weren’t in the mood. Right?

It was one of the things you loved so much about him. Sure, in the beginning he told you he’d fuck you whenever. But you quickly realized that wasn’t entirely true.

He did love to push your boundaries and make you take far more than you could, but he didn’t ever try to have you when you didn’t want him to.

“Unless you beg me.” You smirked down at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Mhm.” You purred. “Beg me and I might consider it.”

His eyes slowly closed and you saw the way he throbbed and twitched.

“No.” He murmured. “I’m not going to beg you.”

You rocked your hips down in a gentle movement, running your warm, slick core along his throbbing hardness and he moaned.

He moaned.

“Fuck- You’re so-“

“Come on.” You whispered as you teasingly rubbed yourself against his tip. “No one’s here. Just you and me. You’re the man.” You leaned down and kissed the spot below his ear, causing him to moan again. “You’re the man.” You repeated softly. “You’re in charge. You’re my everything.”

“Damn right I am.” He groaned out.

“My whole world.” You breathed out and pressed yourself against him again, which caused him to throb even more.

“Please.” He finally breathed out, barely loud enough to be audible.

You closed your eyes and lowered yourself down enough for his tip to be pressed against your entrance.

“What?” You whispered breathlessly.

He bit his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “Fucking hell.” He grumbled. “Please. Please. Don’t be a fucking demon. I taught you everything you know.” He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek. His forehead and his eye brows twitched in a way that showed off his internal struggle, his anger, his desperate need for control.

And you didn’t want him to feel like that.

Never.

So you breathed out a gentle “Thank you”, before you slowly pressed yourself down against him, letting him enter you carefully. He closed his eyes shut and moaned again.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?”

“Oh, I hate you far more.” You whispered and slowly kissed a path along his neck. You ground your hips down against his, causing him to let out a ragged moan.

“Fucking devil.” He groaned.

“I’m yours.” You buried your face in his neck and began to ride him slowly, sensually. Gently. But deeply.

He moaned and moaned, the sound making blood rush to your head. “Again.”

“I’m yours. Only yours. I’m…your…”

His release exploded over him like a wildfire, because you felt the way he gripped your hips painfully and held you down against him. You felt the way he came deep inside you, filling you with the promise of being his, being his forever.

“God, I- I-“ He moaned again and ran his hands up your back, causing you to shiver while he rode out his release. You had never seen him like this, so lost in his pleasure that nothing else existed.

It took him a full minute to catch his breath and regain the ability to open his eyes and look at you. The look on his face was nothing short of reverence.

“I love you.” He whispered.

His words surprised you. So far he hadn’t been able to say it without some kind of trigger, without some greater power than his own mind. But now he said it and you knew he meant it.

“I love you more.” You breathed out.

He scoffed breathlessly. “Impossible.”

You smiled exhaustedly and rested your chin on his chest. You loved the feeling of having him inside you until your bodies decided it was time to disconnect. That always took a few minutes.

“Totally not impossible.”

“Absolutely impossible.” He murmured. “I painted the fucking walls apricot for you.”

Your eyes widened and your lips twitched into an incredulous smile. “You did what?”

He smirked and averted his gaze. “Yeah. That’s the most remarkable thing I’ve done for you so far.” He murmured sarcastically.

That made you laugh. “Shut up, you know what I-“

There was a sound that interrupted you. At first you couldn’t tell what it was for it was so unfamiliar. But then you suddenly understood. The doorbell.

His doorbell.

He frowned, obviously equally confused. No one had had tried to visit him so far. He was a ghost. There was no fucking name on his mailbox. Who would possibly-

The thought of it being an ex-girlfriend of his suddenly sent a fresh wave of nausea down your body. You stared at him with a frown and he raised his brows in curiosity. But instead of asking you, he could probably tell what you were thinking. So, he did something else instead. He fumbled for his shirt, which he barely reached across the floor and pulled out the chip.

“Here. Go get it.”

Your brows shot up comically. “What? Me?”

A test. It had to be. A last test.

“Yes. Go on. I trust you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you took the chip with shaky fingers. Really? He trusted you?

Trusted you with the key?

You stared down at it and then back at his face. It meant so much to you.

“Are you sure?”

He smiled slowly and pulled you down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, you silly girl. Go.”

A minute later you had wrapped yourself back into your dress and slowly made your way towards the door. You were already about to press the buzzer, to let whoever it was into the building.

Who could it be? Most likely some housekeeper service again. The thought of the janitor still made your stomach churn, but you pushed it down for now. You had never even asked what he did to the body. The truth was you actually didn’t want to know.

You were about to press the button, when you heard something. Someone cleared their throat. Your eyes widened when you realized that whoever it was, stood right in front of the door.

Your paranoid self didn’t trust people easily, especially after the last person you trusted abducted you – no matter the final outcome.

You decided to give a brief look through the peephole before you opened it. You most likely wouldn’t know the person anyway, but your inner child wanted to be sure it wasn’t an axe murderer.

So, you stood on your tiptoes and glanced outside only for your eyes to settle on…

You stumbled backwards as if you’d been struck. The nausea you had felt all day suddenly seemed to have a reason and you immediately felt incredibly sick.

Thank God you stumbled into him, because you suddenly felt like you couldn’t hold yourself upright.

“Hey.” He gently held you in his arms and frowned down at you in concern. “What is it? Who was it?”

“That guy.” You gasped out. “The one who asked me for directions.”

His expression immediately darkened. “What?”

You nodded quickly. “It’s the same guy. I’m sure.”

His frown deepened and his lip twitched again, not in amusement, but lust for murder.

He gently pushed you behind him, before he took a step closer himself and looked outside as well. For a short moment he didn’t seem too alarmed. It was odd, yes, he had probably followed you. A freak, a stalker. Not of the good kind.

But then he suddenly stiffened. And you knew something was wrong.

“What-“

He grabbed you with a bruising grip and dragged you along until you reached your bedroom. You gasped when he ushered you inside and pushed you into the closet with renewed ferocity.

“What-“

“Stay in here.” He hissed. “Don’t you dare come out until I tell you to.”

He slammed the door shut and you slumped against the wall. Your legs felt like jelly and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. There was a ringing sound in your ears, loud enough to almost make you go deaf.

You buried your hands in your hair and stared at the spot in the darkness where he had been only a second ago.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. Voices. You heard voices.

Quiet at first. And suddenly louder.

Tears stung your eyes and you pressed a hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any sounds.

It wasn’t all that-

A loud crash made you flinch so hard, you immediately got a headache.

And then the dizziness came back. The darkness around you felt like a rollercoaster and you slowly sunk down to your knees, while you tried to breathe calmly.

In and out. In. And out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What could it have been about it that he panicked? That he felt he had to lock you back in here?

By the time the door finally opened – you couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours – everything was messy cloud of loud, bloodied frenzy.

The blood. The blood. So much blood.

He spoke and spoke, but he was too far away. His voice wasn’t real, his twitching eyes weren’t.

His words weren’t. Oh God. Oh no.

Oh God, mother.

And then everything went black.

_____________________________

Tag list 1:@mitsuki-dreamfree@kpopsmutty69@heroine-chique@vkeyy@mizuwki@blu-brrys@z0mbi345@yourpointbreak@ayieayee@freddyzeppsworld@lola11111111@indifitel6661@salesmanlover08@laurenbenoit70@lalalaa2210@lila-marshal@auspicious-lilana@0-aubrie0@lovelyaegyo@theredvelvetbitch@violentbluess@muriels-lover@dorayakissu@eviebuggg@muchwita@ririgy@strxlemon@obsessedwthdilfs@kiwilov3@misty-q

Author's note: GUYS WTF My brain is made of pudding right now, so please forgive me if I made any mistakes or talked shit at some point :(

I'm sorry that it took me so long!!! I had NO idea how to start this chapter, but now I finally made it. I started this at around ten in the morning and now it's ten pm omg. With breaks of course!

I'll try to mention every request/suggestion, if I forget something, please let me know!!!

Also, the requests that didn't/won't make it into the story, I'm planning a sequel and probably a few oneshots concering these two!

@sleepingkittiesworld : her riding him

Anon : her being sick and him caring about her

Anon : the choking during smut

Anon : dinner date outside / another Anon : him taking her to a place she likes (in this case Italian food)

@tommydarlings : innocently taking a bath together

A few people had similar or different suggestions about him getting jealous, so I'll just sum that up under jealousy: @dilfismz , @kidswhoneedhugs , @c3ce , @moondustfairies

Thanks to @babyscilence for "Did he paint the walls apricot for her?" that stuck with me so bad because that JUST MAKES SENSE

Going out in general : @hayakamis-blog , @mswannadiesworld

Going out and getting lost in a crowd : @ririgy

I hope these were all, if I forgot someone, please let me know!

Also great thanks to each and everyone of you! Sometimes I find myself wanting to thank someone in particular for being cute or being a great motivation/inspiration, but somehow, that's all of you!!! I love you, guys!

[flwrstqr]

【 愛 】 L-O-V-E ｡｡ SPORT BF ENHYPEN ───𝗂 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

❪ 日语 ❫ : athlete!enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames mention of blood ⎯ fluff head canons ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

notes. 다니 ⸝⸝ sports boyfriend enhypen is my life!! well enhypen is my whole life HAHA .. but i hope you flueries enjoy hehe ㅠㅠ

LEE HEESEUNG

leaning against the cool metal of the bleachers, you watching heeseung effortlessly sink shot after shot. his jersey clings to his frame, sweat glistening along his neck, but he still turns to you with that signature smirk, bouncing the ball lazily. “hmm, if i make this in, you owe me a kiss,” he teases, flicking his wrist as the ball soars through the air—and swishes cleanly into the hoop. he spins on his heel, grinning as he strides toward you. “guess you owe me, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with mischief as his hands find your waist, pulling you closer. “but, y’know… i wouldn’t mind collecting a few extra, just ‘cause.” before you can protest, he steals a quick, sweet peck, laughing when you shove at his chest

PARK JAY

jay sits on the bench, his fencing jacket unzipped, the faint metallic tang of blood catching your attention as you kneel in front of him. "it’s not that bad," he mutters, but the small cut on his forearm says otherwise. you press your lips into a thin line, and carefully dab the ointment on his skin. "stay still, jay park" you scold, your voice laced with affection. his eyes, focused, lingering on your concentrated expression as you peel the bandage open and press it gently onto his arm. "you’re really something, you know, princess," he teases, his voice dropping into a playful murmur. "oh really?" you retort. when you glance up, your faces are so close. jay leans in, brushing a kiss against your lips, his free hand lightly cupping your cheek. "thanks, baby," he whispers, his grin boyish and smug.

SIM JAKE

jake waits just outside the locker rooms, still in his football gear, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes lighting up the second he sees you in your cheer uniform. "there’s my pretty girl," he calls out, that familiar, heart-melting grin spreading across his face. you roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. he steps closer, towering over you, his hand slipping around your waist. "what about a good luck kiss?" he murmurs. "for the team, of course." you scoff, but he’s already leaning in, lips brushing yours in a soft, teasing kiss that leaves your heart racing. "that’s all i needed," jake grins as he pulls back. "now we’ll definitely win."

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon’s hand is steady on your waist, his other holding yours as you wobble on the ice, your skates barely cooperating. "relax, angel," he says, lips quirking into that teasing smirk."you’re not gonna fall—well, unless you take me down with you." you manage a few shaky steps before your skate catches on the ice, sending you stumbling straight into him. the two of you crash down, sunghoon’s arms wrapping around you to break the fall. his face hovers just inches from yours, his breath visible in the cold air. "guess we’re staying down here a while." despite the playful tone, his gaze softens, lingering on you a little too long before he leans in, brushing a feather-light kiss against your lips. "told you i’d catch you," he murmurs, smiling like he’s never been happier.

KIM SUNOO

the gym is freezing, and you’re curled up on the bleachers, hugging your arms to your chest as you watch sunoo dart across the court, all swift movements and sharp focus. when he catches you shivering between plays, he doesn’t hesitate—he jogs off mid-break, disappearing into the locker room before returning with his jersey in hand. “here, baby,” he murmurs, draping the oversized fabric over your frame, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. “you’re the best,” you smile, and he only chuckles, ruffling your hair before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “of course i am. now stay warm, okay?”

YANG JUNGWON

the summer heat beats down on the court, the sound of tennis balls bouncing as jungwon stands behind you, his hands gently guiding yours on the racket. "just like this, baby," he murmurs, but honestly, you can’t even focus. not when his arms are wrapped around you, his chest pressed to your back. you turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and he grins, his hold on the racket loosening. "you’re not even paying attention," he teases, tilting his head before leaning in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. you laugh, nudging him. "maybe because my coach is so attractive." jungwon hums, pulling you closer, his lips brushing yours. "then let’s just have fun, hmm?" and suddenly, tennis is the last thing on either of your minds.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki's still catching his breath when you plop down onto his lap, legs lazily draped over his as he instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. his other hand finds yours, fingers absentmindedly tracing light patterns along the back of it. “sooo, how was practice, superstar?” you ask, tilting your head to look at him. he hums, amused, “exhausting. you should try dancing sometime, babe. might finally fix those two feet of yours.” you gasp dramatically, swatting at his chest, but he only chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “anyway,” you huff, choosing to ignore his jab, “i was saying—oh! and then i saw this cute dog today, riki, i swear he looked just like you.” his lips quirk up as he leans in, voice teasing, “so what i’m hearing is, you think i’m cute?” "shut up, ki"

fill out form to be part of my perm taglist!

[checkeredflagggs]

Bouquets of Love

pairing: oscar piastri x secret admirer!reader

summary: oscar has no idea who is leaving such gorgeous bouquets for him but he’s very grateful (and very determined to find out who)

a/n1: I’m gonna need you guys to repeat after me — suspend your disbelief please

a/n2: this idea really came from sin’s discord cause we like imagining oscar dating a florist — blushing every time he’s handed a bouquet…good image

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages

Bluesky

user1: oscar has a secret admirer?!?

↳user2: oh that’s so cute!

↳user1: right?

user3: don’t worry guys they were from me

↳user4: nah sorry man they were actually from me

user5: ok but did anyone get any footage of Oscar receiving the flowers? Cause this is him —> 😳😳

↳user6: wait how did you know?? 😂

↳user7: no but be so for real i can just see him being so blushy getting flowers

↳user8: you paint such a vivid picture…

user9: i wanna know who’s leaving him flowers…does he have a girlfriend??

↳user10: none that we know of! But tbh he’s like the top of the grid for having a secret relationship

↳user9: that’s very true

Private Messages

Bluesky

user11: ohhh someone is pulling out all the stops this V-Day!

user12: oh to be wooed with gorgeous gorgeous flower bouquets…

user13: I know we’re all joking about this but damn those are pretty!

user14: I know we’re all joking about this but how is it getting to his car?

↳oscarpiastri: that’s a very good question…

↳user14: oscar!

↳user15: you’ve been seen!

↳user14: yeah I don’t know if I like this or not…

oscarpiastri: you say you saw me getting the bouquet — does this mean you saw who did it?

↳81fan: sorry king but all I saw was a person in a long coat turning the corner

↳oscarpiastri: tall? Short? Average? Hair color? Skin color?

↳81fan: literally just the edge of their coat

↳81fan: tbh I only suspect them because they were hurrying away

↳oscarpiastri: so you’re really no help at all are you?

↳81fan: you can get kinda mean can’t you?

petals_and_pedals

liked by user, alexandrasaintmleux, user, and 18,193 others

petals_and_pedals: with Valentine’s Day coming up, stop right in for (almost) all of your needs!

view all comments

user16: do you sell everything there?

↳petals_and_pedals: hahaha it seems like it doesn’t it? But no, just flowers and formula 1!

↳user16: why?

↳petals_and_pedals: our parents left us an empty shop and we couldn’t agree on anything — so my brother runs the f1 side and I run the flower side!

↳user16: ok that’s cute

yourbrother: don’t forget to mention the sale

↳petals_and_pedals: oh yeah! Everything fast is 10% off this week. Everything pretty is 15% off this week!

↳user17: ok but what if they’re both?

↳petals_and_pedals: example?

↳user17: Charles Leclerc? Lewis Hamilton?

↳petals_and_pedals: not really my style tbh

↳user17: 😱😱😱

user18: do you sell premade bouquets?

↳petals_and_pedals: we do! And they come in a variety of sizes and styles!

user19: hmmm… 🤔

↳user19: user53 do you know what I’m thinking?

↳user53: …I do damn it

user20: if we don’t know exactly what we want?

↳petals_and_pedals: we’re here to help!

alexandrasaintmleux: charles_leclerc

↳charles_leclerc: hint received 😊 liked by alexandrasaintmleux

↳petals_and_pedals: if you dm us your favorite colors and flowers we can do a custom bouquet!

↳alexandrasaintmleux: 🩷🩷

Private Messages

Bluesky

user21: I’m loving this

↳user22: right? This is a romcom book waiting to happening

↳user23: I’m writing it as we speak

user24: ok where’s the crazy good detective user?

↳user19: I’m already working on it! And I think I’ve got it

↳user24: keep us updated!

oscarpiastri: if you people are gonna keep stalking my car, I’m going to need you guys to get better at photography

↳papaya_4ever: tbh it’s more fun watching you fumble this investigation

↳oscarpiastri: I’m gonna make sure you never get to go to a Grand Prix again in your life

↳papaya_4ever: not as much a threat as you think!

alex_albon: so this is what has you spamming the chats?

↳user25: he’s also freaking out about it to you guys??

↳alex_albon: everyone who lives in his building!

↳user25: that’s funny af

↳oscarpiastri: it is not!!

Bluesky

user26: WE GOT A SIGHTING!

↳user27: can anyone tell me why im more invested in this relationship then anything else in my life right now???

user28: I’m so sat right now. I can not wait for the finale of this…

↳user29: almost worth it to get the popcorn out…

oscarpiastri: ok I’m going to need you to give me a full debrief right now

↳81_4!: …not with that attitude

↳oscarpiastri: 😑😡

↳81_4!: yeah you scare me

↳81_4!: goodbye

↳oscarpiastri: get back here and explain yourself

logansargeant: damn…I wanted this to go on longer…

↳oscarpiastri: you know I’m kinda glad you’re not gonna be around anymore

↳alex_albon: wow you do get mean when you don’t get your way

↳logansargeant: he’s always been like this — ignore it

user19: ehehehehe I solved it

↳user53: yeah you did!

↳oscarpiastri: start talking

↳user19: already tagged you on her page!

↳oscarpiastri: I like you best

↳user53: no

petals_and_pedals

liked by user, francisca.cgomes, user19, and 11,813 others

petals_and_pedals: some of the bouquets premade for Valentine’s Day this Friday! Come stop in and make the day of love a special one!

view all comments

user30: those are so gorgeous!

↳petals_and_pedals: and on sale! liked by user26

francisca.cgomes: I hear you do custom bouquets?

↳petals_and_pedals: we do! Dm us and we can get started on making the perfect one for you!

↳francisca.cgomes: pierregasly!!

↳pierregasly: got it!

user19: ahahaha got it! oscarpiastri is this the bouquet you got today?

↳oscarpiastri: it is…good catch

↳user53: good job babe!

↳user31: babe??!?

Bluesky

user32: he got the girl!!!

↳user33: always believed in him!

↳user34: really?

↳user33: not at all! It was funny watching him freak out

user35: he got the date on Valentine’s Day??

↳user36: wait stop that’s so cute…

oscarpiastri: ok I wasn’t being plagued by bouquets…

↳logansargeant: really? Could have fooled me the way you were freaking out about it…

↳user37: really?

↳logansargeant: constantly. He was terrorizing everyone trying to find out who did it

↳oscarpiastri: go back to America and leave me alone

↳logansargeant: 😂😂

georgerussell63: Finally

↳user38: it couldn’t have been that bad…

↳georgerussell63: He yelled at me for 5 minutes because I couldn’t give him any camera footage from the garage.

↳user38: Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him…

↳georgerussell63: Neither did I…

yourbrother: damn I didn’t have papaya on the bingo card…

↳oscarpiastri: it’s the only color on the bingo card now…

↳yourusername: awwww 🥰🥰

↳yourbrother: I feel like that was a threat

↳oscarpiastri: it was. Yes. liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 1,923,924 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: I got the girl and now she’s the one getting bouquets

view all comments

yourusername: you’re actually so adorable…

↳oscarpiastri: obviously but you don’t have to tell everyone that…

user39: ok I’ve only had them for a couple of hours but if anything happened to them I’d kill everyone then myself… liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername

yourbrother: gladly, she’s your problem now

↳yourusername: that’s not very brotherly of you…

↳yourbrother: I don’t care. Get out of the store and go have a life

↳yourusername: rude

charles_leclerc: a new daughter-in-law!

↳oscarpiastri: not yet…

↳yourusername: 😳😳

user40: google - how to be adopted into this family

↳yourusername: sorry but this one is mine

↳oscarpiastri: absolutely

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff

[jinxvex]

omg haiii :3 #1 i just found your account and i love your works! the way you write is just… mwahmwahmwah. besides that! i’d love it if u could do a jinx x reader where reader is lowkey oblivious but jinx is super obvious with how much she wants to fuck… and when she finally gets to hit she degrades and dumbifies reader… orrrr am i just thirsty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

♱ fantasy. ♱

oh girl this is sexy trust, WE IS THIRSTY TEW!! also thank you, you’re so sweet!! i’m glad you enjoy my works :))

syp. the first time jinx set her glowy shimmer-charged eyes on you, she knew she had to have you—and she always gets what she wants. no matter that you were friends and you were oblivious to her constantly undressing you with her eyes, fighting her urges to completely ruin, defile, and destroy you. you’d come to realize soon enough.

cw: nsfw content!!, dom!jinx plotting on that p***y (lol), sub!reader (i'm a switch!jinx truther but let me cook...), a lot of degrading + dumbification, cursing, dirty talk, some praise, teasing, mocking, she forces you to take it!!, mentions of oral/fingering/gun-play, strap-on sex, hair-pulling, pet names (toots, hon, babe, baby, bunny, etc?), possessiveness, nastiness galore (lord forgive me!), reader’s past sex life is purposefully written to be vague, + prob more

wc: 4.2k!!

jinx’s fantasies involving you started a month ago when she was off roaming the rowdy streets of the undercity for a market sale. well, before it. she had begrudgingly taken up silco’s orders to keep tabs on the shipment coming in and out before the market opened to the public. for what? ‘who freakin’ knows?!’ she thought.

in retrospect, jinx was never an overly sexual person. she understood what it was, why people participated in it, and her own sexual preferences but she’d never devoted much time to finding someone to fuck or to fuck her for that matter. she's fucked before, but that was it. plunging her long, slender fingers into her own cunt while reading a racy scene in a shitty romance novel was enough to get her rocks off. she figured something was missing but she brushed it off.

her mind was… elsewhere most of the time.

(a month ago...)

lost in her thoughts, per usual, jinx doesn’t see you standing in all your beautiful glory. she walks right past you, eyes darting along everything she can see to accurately take in the information silco wants her to report back to him. she's still preoccupied with the inner workings of her mind and not too much with the zaunite public.

well, that's bound to change one way or another.

suddenly, she's stopping dead in her tracks. something's changed. the air feels charged, full of opportunity and something else. curly lines, shapes, and colorful graphics fill her vision—overwhelming but she feels as though she can really see clearly for the first time.

her nostrils catch a whiff of something… sweet. inviting. like freshly baked cookies although it's almost incomparable to how truly delectable the scent is. she's taken by surprise at the smell of something so good, good enough to eat, to devour. she’s never smelt anything or anyone so delicious. it intrigued her beyond belief, she knew that whatever it was, she was going to have that thing.

that’s when in her own self-induced frenzy she'd caused by frantically turning and thrashing around to look for where the smell led her, she sees you for the first time. as radiant as ever.

everything's in slow motion.

you're leaning up against a metal post and speaking to a market vendor, your voice as sweet as ever chatting to them about ‘who the fuck cares’. your smile is the brightest she’d ever seen living in a place full of drug addicts, violence, and poverty like you’ve never been subjected to zaun in your entire life.

she watches as you flip your hair to one side, hips swaying and fingers twiddling against your satchel. she watches you so intently, that she can see your eyes blinking slowly, she can count your individual eyelashes and remember the number for the rest of her life.

to say the least, jinx is enamored by the sight of you, let alone your smell. images of how good you'd look naked, and what your skin would feel like against hers cloud her vision, creating the perfect first impression of you in her mind. she looks further at you, specifically your ass and the jeans hugging it perfectly as well as the curve of your hips. the veins in your neck travel further down beneath your shirt and she can't help but wonder what your chest would look like.

bare.

before this moment, she'd never thought of somebody in such a vulgar light; it put her in a state of shock. she let her mind wander even farther off into jinx-landia and she imagines what it would feel like to slide her fingers into your pussy and press the pads of them onto your g-spot. she wants to know what it feels like to feel you get wetter and wetter and what it feels like to make out with your pussy—to push your own juices into your mouth and kiss you dumb. she thinks about testing how deep your cunt could get—how pretty your ass would look riding a cock, tits bouncing in the air.

controlling herself was something jinx always had problems with, so she isn't surprised when she is unable to stop herself from approaching you. her feet seem to be dragging themselves towards you like some sort of magnetic force.

“hiya, toots,” spills from her lips before she can even stop and think about what she's doing.

you pause your conversation with whomever you're speaking to, looking over in her direction to find her staring intently at you. confused and a little petrified, you stand up straighter, as you aren't expecting silco’s adoptive daughter to be staring you down at the beginning of some random ass tuesday morning.

“uhm, hey,” you respond, sounding more like a question rather than a greeting in return.

‘this is gonna be so much fun,’ jinx’s eyes light up and she lets her lips curl up in a friendly smirk, running through ways in her mind how exactly she’d ruin your body, mark you up, and claim you for herself.

because no matter what, nobody else is ever getting a piece of you now that she's sought you out.

no fuckin’ way.

…

somewhere in the present, there’s an idea—a certain narrative established between you and jinx.

you’re friends. good ones.

you don't know what else would explain the obvious liking jinx has taken to you. what else would explain the way she’s always touching you, looking after you, and asking you personal questions? questions so personal they have your eyes widening and gripping the edges of your clothes.

"have you ever, y'know, done it before? had sex?"

"what sorta stuff you into? like, sex stuff."

"you ever touch yourself? what feels the best? just trying to see if i could learn somethin' interesting for myself."

you never answer, often opting to lower your head in silence. how could you? it was wildly inappropriate and quite frankly, jinx made you shy. maybe it's because she's so pretty, and bold, and has a waist so small and touchable that you just want to-

no! 'why does she care so much?' you ask yourself frequently. no friend has ever been so crass...

duh! she gives a shit because she wants to fuck your brains out 'n then maybe cuddle you a bit! but you don't know that...

jinx follows you around too, insisting you need protecting since "you're too pretty 'n perfect" to not have protection.

one day, she started walking you to your god-awful job and never stopped. her excuse was, "can't have anyone takin' advantage of ya so early in the morning, princess. janna knows they'd try with a face 'n a body like that...whew", she whistled to herself.

needless to say, she kept your life interesting. she always seems to find you, no matter where you are. like she can sense your presence anywhere. you figure she doesn't have many people to talk to, everyone's scared of her being silco's daughter and all. but, you don't have anyone either; no parents or friends. no girlfriend.

well that makes two of you. sort of.

you both are currently smushed together on her sofa in her hideout making bracelets—snacks, craft supplies, and sleepover galore surrounding you. earlier on in the day, jinx had swung by your apartment (how she found out where you lived, you had no clue) and invited you over for a sleepover for the first time. you were surprised she was trusting you enough to let you see where she retreats at night and where she spends most of her time eating, sleeping, plotting; scheming.

she has a knack for making you feel special; like it’s just you two in the world and nothing else matters.

she makes you feel alive.

you’re shaken out of your thoughts by a grinning jinx. yes, physically shaken. both of her palms are placed on your shoulders, gripping them tight and looking into your eyes almost as a way to silently ask if you’re having as much fun as her. heat transfers from her usually cold hands to your skin which has you internally reeling. you’re wearing a tank top, comfortable enough with her to show a little something extra, “whatcha thinkin’ about, hon?”

you smile back at her, “nothing.”

you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your chest for a split second but you ignore it. her eyes move quick due to the shimmer, ‘you’re seeing shit, girl’ claims the angel on your shoulder.

“hmm, you’re lying.”

“am not!” you counter.

“are too,” she doubles back.

“whatever.” you finalize, emphasizing the ‘ever’. you’re not interested in arguing with her any further or giving her the satisfaction of proving her right.

you focus on the friendship bracelet you’re creating for her, determined to make it as pretty as you can for her. you want her to wear it—like it. love it, even. it fills you with a sick satisfaction knowing that soon you’d be wearing each other's creations, way more than it would if you just saw her as a friend. you see her pause her movements out of the corner of your eye but you keep going.

the faint sound of her own bracelet dropping to the couch cushion causes your head to rise up, looking at her in slight confusion. you’re not shocked to realize that she’s already looking at you.

“’m bored,” jinx replies blankly, pouting cutely.

“and grass is green. what else is new? you’re always bored, girl,” you playfully nudge her arm.

“well… grass has more of a grey hue down here so-“

the funny but slightly depressing joke nearly flew over your head but the knowing smirk on her face clued you in on her shenanigans.

you gasp in disbelief and nudge her arm a little harder now, fighting to stifle your laugh under your breath, “ha ha. very funny.”

“yeah, toots. i’m extremely hilarious,” she holds her head up high and crosses her arms above her chest.

she pauses, “let’s play somethin’.

she faces you fully now, right knee switching from resting next to your left to mirroring both of your knees, parallel to you. she scoots closer, and by now you know her calculating personality. you know that whatever she’s up to, has to be mischievous.

“ever hear of truth or dare?”

you roll your eyes, “of course i have!”

“then, you know the rules… right?”

“yes, jinx. i know how to play,” you rebuttal.

maybe you should’ve known her attention span wouldn’t last long while bracelet making. even if the speaker blared her favorite music at her gadget station, filling the space with a comfortable ambiance.

she smiles widely, “then let’s fuckin’ play!

“it’ll be so. much. fun,” she gets closer to your face with each word to emphasize her point, biting her lip and giving you intense eye contact. sexually charged eye contact. but again, you don't realize.

“fine. fine! but you’re going first. you're better at this sorta thing.”

she leans back to give you more space, just enough space to where it's socially acceptable to still be incredibly close to your friend. she's clapping her manicured hands together as her smile grows bigger and her shoulders tense with excitement.

"truth or dare?!" she asks in a televised over-dramatic fashion.

"truth."

'too easy' she thought. although, 'this is good,' her thoughts linger further. she figures she should start you off easy.

jinx has now stopped her clapping to put a finger on her chin in a thinking motion, obviously pretending to conjure up an interesting question that she's probably already picked out in her head.

"hmm...have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asks confidently, putting emphasis on the 'boy' part of "boyfriend" in a mocking manner; like how a sibling or family member would tease you about a crush.

your eyes widen, already caught off-guard by her first question.

"uhm... no. i-i don't really like boys like that."

she licks her lower lip and smiles once again, unbeknownst to you because you've just confirmed that she actually has a chance to win you over. although, she had her suspicions when she first met you.

"ever had a girlfriend?" she questions further, a serious, eerie edge to her voice appearing at the thought of you ever even romantically touching another girl. hell, in any way, shape, or form.

blinking rapidly, you shut her down quickly, "what, no! never really got the… chance to."

initially, you were going to tease her by mentioning that she was only allowed to ask one question but, you couldn't help but shake the feeling that she wasn't going down without an answer from you.

"awesome, good to know! your turn."

"okay. truth or da-"

"dare," she cuts you off delightedly.

you file through your mind to give her something entertaining to do but you find absolutely nothing, your mind blank like always the very moment you get around her. jinx makes you feel like you don't have to live your life thinking so hard. it's peaceful.

"damn, you are bad at this game," she snorts.

"hey, i can't help it. you've gotta help me here."

she raises a brow, "i mean, you could ask me t'do basically anything. y'know i'd do it," she slowly cocks her head to the side, still gazing deep into your irises. her braids follow the movement of her head.

"make it nasty."

"what the hell am i supposed to do? tell you to take off your clothes?!"

she doesn't waver, "yeah. yeah, that's a good one. do it."

you gulp, throat now dryer than ever and your fingers hurt from tightly grasping the fabric of your sleep shorts, 'here goes nothing.'

"u-uh... i dare you to t-take off your shirt," you order weakly.

jinx doesn't even let you finish your sentence before she's crossing her arms in front of her to tug the tiny, thin tank top off of her body, you follow her hands and you watch her chuck it on the floor carelessly. you look back up at her only to realize that,

she isn’t fucking wearing a bra.

you gasp in shock and secret arousal, eyes darting to the spot below you as you avoid looking at her soft, perky chest any longer, not wanting to over-step or make her uncomfortable.

"hey, you're startin' to hurt my feelings, babe. gave you that idea for a reason. makes shit more... interesting."

you look up to meet her eyes and for the nth time, you see her staring right back at you, gaze charged with something more than usual. you may have been oblivious, but you weren't dumb, something was definitely going on here. something that friends shouldn't do alone.

but you can't stop. it's turning you on.

the game continues on for many rounds after that, you and jinx switching back and forth from truth and dare, learning more and more about each other as time passes by. you start to get the hang of her outlandish questions, answering them shyly but not as reluctant as before. something you'd never get used to was the hypnotizing way her tits bounced with each slight movement, entrancing you. you learn that she's had sex once before and that she likes rope play and getting her hair pulled.

she also mentions other personal traits of hers that make your head spin, "y'know when i get wet, i get reeeally wet. like water wet."

needless to say, you know more than you should. she seemed to not mind telling you these things either, almost excited to clue you in.

"truth or dare, baby?"

"truth," you choose once more, the pet name affecting your better judgment and the seductive tinge to her voice causing the wetness already present in your underwear to leak through to your shorts.

jinx doesn't attempt to pretend to think of a question, "tell me, toots. what turns you on? what gets ya goin'?"

"what do you mean? like some sort of a kink?"

"yeah, like a kink."

embarrassment falls over your face like a dam breaking. you have to lie. this was getting too up close and personal for your own good and the only thing that could save what's left of your dignity is a lie.

"i-i don't know..."

so much for a lie.

her unhappiness with your answer is expressed when you see her narrowing her eyes at you. she leans in close, nose brushing yours and you can feel her warm breath on your face, "i know you're lying," she says real sing-songy-like. she's teasing you, and enjoying it.

her slender finger points in your face, “no fair! showed you my tits, toots! play by the rules."

"okay! okay! god, this is so fucking embarrassing-"

"c'mon..," she urges you on, eager to learn more about your sexual side and what takes you cream. she desired to know what made your pussy wet before she stuffed you full. but again, you don't know that.

"i-um. i read something onc-,”

she cuts you off once again, “don’t got all day!”

you sigh, “okay! i like getting called names. mean ones,” you blurt out quickly—sick of her antics.

“and i think i like it…rougher?”

her seemingly continuous stare falters for a split second before a bubbly laugh escapes her throat, smiling bigger and better than she has all day.

“oh, yeah? you like it… rough? you like getting treated like you’re nothin’?” she laughs out incredulously and somehow she’s gotten closer to you, lips almost close enough to graze yours.

“jinx… i- what are you-“

“what if we… played somethin’ else? somethin’ a little more worth our while.”

she figures, ‘ay, i’ve waited long enough…i need her'.

“like what?” you inquire even though you're no longer oblivious, catching on to what she means by “somethin’ else.” you feign innocence.

you feel a calculating hand travel up your leg, they’re slightly sweaty and cold which makes a shiver crawl down your spine. your chest visibly quickens, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes glossy with desire. jinx, still maintaining eye contact with you, remains calm although internally jumping for joy as she's finally got you where she wanted you the moment she laid eyes on you.

"how wet are ya right now, toots? you look like you're 'bout to cream your fuckin' pants!"

you audibly gasp, and she continues,

"i bet you're just drippin' down there... this whole time i've been sittin' here thinkin' you're being tortured answering all my questions, but, the entire time you've been gettin' off to it, haven't ya?!"

a single tear gathers in your eye out of complete and utter embarrassment. despite that, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fucking love it.

her hand stops at the edge of your top, fiddling softly with it, "you can tell me to stop, baby! but, i have a feeling you don't want that," she whispers against your lips. you feel her tug the bottom of your tank top tighter, balling it in her clammy fist.

"dont! d-dont stop."

and just like that, a switch flips in her head. she's grabbing the back of your neck and smushing her lips against yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that has your lips aching. as soon as you feel her tongue attempt to break into your mouth, you let her in.

you initially jump in surprise but quickly sink into the kiss once you get used to the overwhelming contrast between her cold hands clutching your waist and her warm lips pressed on your lips. soon, she's basically drooling into your mouth, tongue trailing over every detail of the inside of your mouth as if she's trying to memorize the space. it's disgusting, really. but, it makes your cunt sloppy.

jinx breaks the kiss to pull your top over your head. she throws it on top of hers. the same one she abandoned long ago at the start of the game. it creates a small heap on the floor of her cozy abode.

"fuckin' whore," she laughs.

you moan, biting your lip softly as a seductive tactic to keep her kissing you.

"wooow!!" she drags out humorously, pressing her hand against your throat and tightening slowly with each word that comes out of her mouth, "you really are a slut. you like when i'm mean, slut?"

you nod, words seemingly impossible to form at this point.

she tightens her hold on you, bringing your neck closer so her mouth resides next to your ear, "if you don't speak up, i'm gonna make it hurt. 's gonna hurt so bad, bunny. gonna torture you. ‘n i know it’s our first time and all! don’t wanna have to scare ya just yet!"

unable to stop rambling, she continues, "hmm... maybe i'll shove the biggest fucking cock i have into your tight cunt... no prep! betcha you'd take it so well. hell, you'd probably like it! you're nasty like that."

"maybe i'll stuff my gun in there...with the bullets inside."

"please, jinx. fuck me.”

she just smiles, “i thought you’d never ask.”

…

you swear you see your life flash before your eyes because of how hard jinx is pounding your poor, abused cunt into the couch cushion. she has you face down—ass up with your hands held together behind your back by her own hands. your face rests on the couch arm, halfway visible to her so she can marvel at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and crossing achingly.

her own eyes roll at the sight of you in such a lewd state, “fuck, toots! you’re takin’ this cock so good. suckin’ me in your pussy like a good little cockslut. mmph. jus' swallowing it whole, fuck!!"

her pace is fast but calculated; and planned. as always. she’s roughly rolling her hips into yours to produce the addictive whore-ish moans to spill from your mouth. she’s also focused on watching her cock disappear in you, your cunt swallowing her cock like it was supposed to be there. the open space is filled with creamy cunt sounds and skin-slapping noises.

“holy fuckin’ shit, hear that? ya hear that pussy creaming ‘round my dick? she’s talkin’ to me, baby!”

you speak, remembering her resentment towards you not responding to her, “y-yes! i-i do, jinxie.”

“yeah?! you think she’s tryin’ to tell me how much she loves me? how much she loves when i split her open on my dick?” she reaches below your stomach to slap at your clit right where the balls on the faux cock meet your skin and you shudder in pleasure.

“fucking love your dick, ‘s so good, s-shit!”

it’s like her mouth won’t stop. she’s relentless—bullying you with her words as well as her cock. jinx pulls you up by your hair so your upper body mirrors hers. she slows her pace to thrust deeper and harder in you, damn near knocking the wind out of you. that causes to you choke on your breath, and your mouth is open as far as it can go.

“h-hah! aww… ‘s just sooo good, isn’t it?"

"see what happens when you’re good for me? good lil’ whores get good dick, ‘n i love givin’ it to ya, hon.”

you’re uncontrollably moaning, voice echoing loudly as you beg her for more—to wreck you.

“more! m-more please!”

“more?!“ she removes her hand from your head to dig her nails into your hips so she can get deeper, so she can open you up.

“you. want. fuckin’. more?!” she slams into your pussy with each word.

your pussy is drooling with your arousal and the shared sweat between you and jinx. you can feel it squelching down your legs with every thrust and throaty laugh she lets out at your pathetic form.

“god, you should see yourself. such’a perfect slut.”

with every word you feel your pussy quiver, getting closer and closer to cumming around her cock. when you curl your toes and inch off of her to prevent yourself from orgasming a whopping 3 minutes in she’s not having it, quickening her pace but keeping her almost-painful thrusts deep.

“nope! gonna take it all. ya asked for it, toots! you begged me to stick my dick in you. so take all of it.”

“b-but ‘m gonna cum! don't wanna yet! oh my god, p-please!!” you beg her for the slightest bit of mercy.

uncaring, she leans down next to the side of your head, lowering her voice, “you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘n you’re gonna cum telling me whose pussy this is. who’s is it, babe?”

“who’s feedin’ this cunt good dick?!”

“you, you! only you.”

“yeah, ‘s me. cum, toots. soak me—get me wet.”

and that was it, “fuck! ‘m cumming!”

you release a soul-crushing moan and triggered by your sudden high, you grip the edges of the couch arm and fuck your ass back on her to deepen her thrusts if that’s even possible. wetness squirts from your cunt and everywhere around you, soaking the entire space below you including jinx’s lower half. the last thing you remember before you pass the fuck out is the hazy, content look on her face and incoherent mumbles that probably consisted of,

“that was way better than a fuckin’ fantasy.”

…

PLEASE TAKE THIS FOOD WHILE I WORK ON MY SEV REQS!!🙏🏽🫣...

[purerae]

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!PLAYBOY X FEM!READER

Valentine’s day Special! <3

warnings ;; yandere!playboy being a delusional freak (as usual), yandere behavior, MAJOR second hand embarrassment, slightest bit of angst (if you squint), crack.

╰────༺♡༻────╯

Valentine’s Day for Kieran was basically his second birthday. The rich boy never bought candy, why would he, when he could stock up for free just from today alone? His locker was overflowing with chocolates, candies, and love notes—notes that he didn’t even bother reading before tossing them straight into the trash. But the sweets? Oh, he made sure to keep those. Stuffing his bag full, he scoffed at the cheap, store-bought heart chocolates while setting aside the good stuff; the expensive ones, the homemade treats that probably took hours to make. Greedy. That’s all it was. Kieran was just greedy. But even with all the gifts, all the attention, all the adoration, it never really mattered—not until today. Not until he spotted one letter on his desk that actually made his heart skip a beat. Because this one? This one had to be from you. For the first time on February 14th, Kieran felt a genuine rush of excitement, something different from the usual smug satisfaction of being adored that just boosted his already huge ego. The envelope sat on his desk, neat and delicate, like it had been placed there with care—like it actually meant something. His fingers brushed over your initials written in beautiful cursive handwriting, slow and deliberate, his mind already running wild. Finally. You were finally giving in. He could already picture you, shy and flustered as you wrote it, your heart laid bare just for him. A love letter? From you? His sweet little obsession finally coming to her senses? He was grinning, twirling the letter between his fingers, taking his time, savouring the moment. Oh, you were so cute for this.

 He carefully opened the letter, fingertips tingling with anticipation. His heart was racing, his mind already running a mile a minute. What kind of sweet words did you leave for him? Were you confessing your love? Finally admitting that you couldn’t resist him any longer? God, you knew him so well! Every detail, down to the paper, the handwriting, the delicate way the envelope was sealed—it all screamed you. This was the first time that the suave playboy turned into a giggling high school girl, biting his lip to keep from grinning too wide. If he was just some regular guy, people would be throwing weird glances at him for nearly stomping his feet in excitement, but he’s Kieran, so no one does.

To be honest, all the girls around him loved it. They giggled amongst themselves, watching him act like a lovesick fool, finding it more endearing than embarrassing. Some of them seething in jealousy at the mysterious girl who got the school's renowned playboy all lovestruck like this. Man, pretty privilege was real. Any other man would’ve been clowned for this, but Kieran? No, Kieran could get away with anything—especially when he looked good doing it.

The white haired male just had to find you, had to catch a glimpse of his princess all shy and flustered from pouring out her emotions in this cute little letter. He was already going to force you into his valentines day plans-- but you, making the move first? Gosh, you never fail to surprise him. Kieran rushed around the school, finally found you hanging around the library. He waltzes over to your table, practically floating with confidence, that stupidly charming smirk plastered across his face. With an easy flick of his wrist, he spun the chair around, plopping down and draping his arms over the back like he owned the fucking place; the letter was in his hand, obnoxiously tapping it against his palm as he leaned in, way too close, eyes glinting with something dangerous beneath all that excitement.

“Sooo...” he drawled, looking at you up and down, voice smooth as ever, “...couldn’t resist me anymore, huh princess~?” the blue eyed male winked as he laughed boyishly, Though his words were condescendingly annoying, a glint of affection is laced in his orbs. 

You, the girl who just wanted some peace on this already lame ass day where you enviously stare at the lovey dovey highschoolers with, gaze up from your notebook as you stare blankly at him, forcing yourself not to immediately roll your eyes at the sight of the blue eyed playboy.  “Huh?” You blink once, and then twice at him.

Kieran scoffs out a laugh. Still so shy, bless your cute little soul. “The letter, sweetheart.” He waved it a little, like it was obvious. “Real cute of you, by the way. You always did have good taste.” Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the pastel pink letter, squinting at it before looking back at him. “What letter? Dude what the fuck are you talking about?” tilting your head as you grimace at his stupid little smirk. Kieran let out a breathy laugh, tilting his head like you just said the funniest thing in the world. “Ahh, playing shy now? That’s adorable, really,” he mused, tapping the letter against his chin. “Didn’t think you’d get cold feet after pouring your heart out like this, but it’s okay, princess. I get itttt. Big emotions can be scary!” he says with a mocking pout, leaning in closer. He reached out, trailing a finger down your arm like he was so sure this was some flirty little game. Youre playing hard to get as always, its okay! He likes the chase. However, you cant back out this easily when he literally has the physical proof of your love-- no, infatuation towards him. “You don’t have to pretend, y’know. I already know it’s from you.” his other hand tracing the first letters of your first and last name that was engraved onto the envelope. 

But the way you just kept staring at him, utterly lost, was starting to poke holes in his fantasy. No. No, you were just messing with him. Testing him. Right? Rolling your eyes, you snatch the letter out of his hand, too tired to deal with whatever weird fantasy he had cooked up this time. With an exhausted sigh, you scanned the handwriting, flipping the letter over to really stare at the initials , and then—oh. Oh, this was actually hilarious. Your hand slaps your mouth as you stifle a giggle.

“Kieran,” you deadpanned, looking him dead in the eyes, “this isn’t from me. It’s from the other girl in our chemistry class. Y’know, the one with the same initials as me?” Silence.

Kieran just stood there, blinking, like his brain was trying to reboot. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and for the first time all day, he didn’t have a slick response ready. You watched, unimpressed, as his expression went through about ten different emotions at once—confusion, disbelief, denial, a little more denial—before finally landing on something unreadable. “...what?” He freezes for a solid minute before letting out a light chuckle, rolling his shoulders back like this was no big deal. “Ohh, right. Of course. The other girl.” He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, throwing on that easy, practiced smirk. “I knew that! I was just.. I was just joking, silly~!”

But inside? He was tweaking.

'What the actual hell. What do you mean it’s not from you? Then why the hell did it feel like you? Look like it was from you? Sound like you?' His heart was racing, but not in the good way anymore. His palms felt weirdly clammy. His eye twitched. 'No. No, no, no. This doesn’t make sense. This was supposed to be from you. This was supposed to be our moment. So why— who, who even is the other girl??? Has he ever even interacted with her??' Suddenly the heartfelt words that adorned the letter just seemed incredibly corny and cheesy to him. The bright pastel colours decorated along the paper blazed in his eyes, practically laughing at the delusional boy that stood before it. 

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “Uh-huh. Sure you did.” Kieran swallowed. Act natural. Act. Natural. The playboy opened his mouth, ready to spit out some smooth, damage-control comeback—but nothing came out. For the first time in his entire life, he had nothing. Just sitting there, frozen, swallowing the most brutal, humiliating reality check of his existence. And the worst part? You were just staring at him. Not even amused. Not even mad. Just tired and annoyed.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose like you were physically in pain just being near him. “I literally don’t have time for this. Happy Valentine's Day man.”  You say with a tight lipped smile, grabbing your stuff as you pat his shoulder. And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Kieran just stood there, gripping the letter so hard it crumpled in his palm. His ears were burning, his jaw tight, but his smirk? Still there. Bruised ego? Maybe. But shattered? Please. A mix-up like this wasn’t enough to shake him. You didn't straight up reject him, it was just a misunderstanding! It was all that stupid girl's fault for having the same initials as his dear soulmate! As if you could ever actually reject him.

No, no, this just meant you were still fighting it. Still playing your little games, still too stubborn to admit what you really wanted. Him. That was fine. He had all the time in the world to let you come to your senses. You’d see it eventually—how you were meant for him, how there was never any other option. And when you finally stop running? Oh, princess he’d be right there, waiting. Besides, there was always next year, and that time; he is certain that the only chocolates he’d be getting is from you.

a/n :: for some reason you guys looveee seeing kieran suffer so heres my early valentines gift for you all :p (maybe not you all but the three anons in my inbox LOL) purerae<3

[be4chywritez]

red red wine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

the week leading up to Quinn proposing to you, and the chaos that follows him.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

One Week Before

You stand in the kitchen of the lake house, absently scrolling through your phone while Jim and Ellen sit at the table, chatting over their morning coffee. Quinn is perched on a stool at the kitchen island, Jack and Luke beside him, all three listening in as you think out loud.

“I think I’m gonna get my nails done,” you say, mostly to yourself, glancing up from your screen. “I found this cute place nearby on Instagram. Might go check it out.”

Quinn freezes. Luke and Jack do the same, exchanging quick glances before all three of them force identical, strained smiles.

“Here?” Quinn asks, a little too casually.

You nod and turn your phone to show Ellen the pictures. “Yeah, thought it’d be nice to get a little pampered. Ellen, want to come with?”

For a split second, her eyes flick to Jim before she shakes her head with a warm—if slightly nervous—smile. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I think I’ll stay back, got a few things to tidy up around the house.”

You frown slightly, glancing between them. “I mean, I don’t have to go either. I could just hang—”

“NO!”

The entire Hughes family responds in unison, voices overlapping in a loud, comically panicked outburst. Even Jim, who’s been silent all morning, leans forward, wide-eyed like you just suggested setting the house on fire.

Quinn is the first to recover. He clears his throat and plasters on a quick, reassuring smile. “No, honey, you should definitely go. Treat yourself.” He waves a hand toward the door, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant. “Have a nice day out.”

Your eyes narrow. “Okay…?” You drag the word out, suspicious, but slide your phone into your bag anyway. Grabbing your keys, you head for the door, throwing one last curious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Luke lets out a long breath. “Close call.”

Jim shakes his head, grinning. “She almost caught on already. We need to be more careful, boys.”

Downtown is quiet, the main street lined with flower boxes and little local shops. Lakeside Nails sits nestled between a café and an old bookstore, its windows decorated with delicate white lettering.

A nail tech waves you over with a friendly smile. “Hi! You must be my one o’clock.”

“That’s me.” You settle into the chair as she sets up.

“I’m Maya. What are we doing today?”

You pull up a photo. “Something like this? Just a clean, neutral look.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Pretty! So, just a little solo pampering trip?”

“Sort of. I’m staying at the lake house with my boyfriend and his family. Thought I’d take a little break and explore.”

Maya hums, focusing on your nails. “How’d you two meet?”

You smile, thinking back. “Through mutual friends. He was quiet at first, but then he made me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know… I just felt comfortable with him.”

“Those are the best ones,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your chest. “He really is.”

When you walk back into the lake house, Quinn is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glances up as you come in, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up. “Let’s see the nails.”

You plop down beside him, holding out your hand. He takes it, running his thumb lightly over your fingers. “Looks good,” he says, approving.

“Glad you think so.” You lean into him as his arm wraps around you, the warmth of his touch settling you into an easy quiet.

The rest of the evening is simple—pasta and salad for dinner, laughter when Quinn drops a handful of cherry tomatoes and watches them roll across the counter. Later, you curl up under a blanket with an old movie on, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. The house is peaceful, filled with the soft flicker of the TV and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you. The way his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing everything. Like he’s counting down.

Five Days Before

You wake slowly, the warmth of morning light filtering through the curtains. Quinn’s arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, his breathing steady and close. He stirs, his nose brushing against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are still half-closed, messy hair falling over his forehead. You trace your fingers along his cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t realize how he looks at you—like you might disappear if he blinks.

“Honey, we’re on breakfast duty,” you remind him.

Quinn groans, shoving his face into your collarbone, stubble tickling your skin. He mumbles something, voice muffled.

You laugh. “No, we can’t let your brothers do it. Unless you want the house to burn down.”

Another grunt, but this time, he shifts, reluctantly getting up. You follow, falling into your usual morning routine.

As you pull on a sweater, he watches from the bathroom mirror, hoping you don’t dig too far into his sock drawer.

Hoping you don’t find the velvet box.

You don’t thank the higher power, but it only puts more pressure on Quinn to pop the damn question.

Four Days Before 

The lake house hums with its usual morning energy—Jack and Luke bickering over who gets the last pancake, Ellen moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, and Jim sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper like he’s immune to the chaos around him.

Quinn, however, is focused on one thing.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you sit at the kitchen table, scrolling absently through your phone. Every few seconds, you look up to add something to the conversation, laughing as Luke launches a grape at Jack’s head. Quinn should be listening, should be jumping in with a comment of his own, but instead, his mind is caught on a single thought: How do I get her to buy the dress?

The dress—the one he wants to see you in when he finally asks the biggest question of his life. He saw it a few days ago when you were flipping through your phone, showing Ellen some boutique you wanted to check out. You hadn’t bought anything yet, just admired a few pieces before getting distracted by something else.

Now, with only four days to go, he needs to make sure you pick the one.

Quinn exhales through his nose and glances toward his brothers. Perfect.

Jack notices first, eyebrows furrowing as he watches Quinn silently glare at him. What? he mouths.

Quinn jerks his head toward the living room, signaling them to follow. Jack and Luke exchange a glance but don’t argue, trudging after him as he disappears down the hallway.

Once they’re out of earshot, Quinn turns to them, hands on his hips like he’s about to give them the most important assignment of their lives.

“Alright, I need you two to do something for me.”

Jack immediately groans. “Oh my god, what now?”

“It’s important,” Quinn says, leveling them with a look.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Like, life-or-death important? Or are we talking Quinn-important, which means it’s about the love of your life?”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, do we need to prepare a eulogy?”

Quinn ignores them. “I need you guys to get her to buy a dress.”

Both of them stare at him.

“A dress,” Jack repeats flatly. “You dragged us away from breakfast for that?”

“Not just any dress,” Quinn says, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels stupid saying it out loud, but if there’s anyone who can pull this off without making it suspicious, it’s these two. “She was looking at this one the other day. It’s perfect for when I—” He stops himself before finishing the sentence, clearing his throat.

Luke catches on first. His eyes widen slightly before he grins. “Ohhh. You mean the dress.”

Jack still looks lost. “What—Oh. Ohhh.”

Quinn nods.

“Okay, so you want us to, what? Trick her into buying it?” Jack asks, crossing his arms.

“Not trick her,” Quinn corrects. “Just… steer her in the right direction.”

Luke grins. “You want us to gaslight her into thinking she needs it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You basically did,” Jack says.

Quinn sighs. “Can you two just do it?”

Luke claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Q, we got this. She’ll be buying that dress by the end of the day.”

Jack cracks his knuckles. “Time to be annoying.”

“Just don’t make it obvious,” Quinn warns.

Luke grins. “No promises.”

Later That Day – The Shopping Trip

You hadn’t really planned on buying anything today.

The town’s little boutique district is charming, with its cobblestone paths and flower boxes hanging from the windows, but you were mostly browsing—taking in the sights, enjoying the crisp summer air, and, apparently, getting bombarded with very strong opinions from Jack and Luke.

“I’m just saying,” Jack starts, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets, “you’ve been talking about wanting a nice dress for a while.”

“Have I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Luke, walking on your other side, nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. All the time. Constantly.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

Jack ignores you. “And look at this!” He gestures dramatically toward one of the boutique windows. “A whole store dedicated to dresses! What are the odds?”

“Crazy,” Luke deadpans.

You give them a suspicious look. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re great,” Jack says. “But you’d be even better if you had a new dress.”

Luke nods. “The best version of yourself, really.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Nothing,” Jack says quickly. “We just care about you. And your wardrobe.”

“Especially that one dress you liked the other day,” Luke adds casually. “That was a good one.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Jack elbows Luke. 

He gives you a pained smile, “intuition?” 

Luke sighs dramatically, turning toward you. “Look,, all I’m saying is that you should try it on. No pressure. No commitment. Just try it on and see how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “Worst case? You hate it, and we all move on with our lives. Best case? You look amazing, and you thank us forever.”

You roll your eyes but, against your better judgment, let them lead you inside. The boutique is small but elegant, with soft lighting and carefully arranged racks of clothing. A sales associate greets you warmly, and before you know it, Luke and Jack are pushing you toward the exact dress they’ve clearly been scheming about.

You sigh, running your fingers over the fabric. It is beautiful.

“Just try it,” Luke urges. “For science.”

“For science,” Jack echoes.

You huff a laugh. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you both owe me coffee.”

“Deal,” they say in unison.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the dressing room, smoothing your hands over the fabric. The dress fits perfectly, hugging in all the right places, flowing just enough to feel effortless. You glance at your reflection in the boutique mirror, tilting your head slightly.

“Well?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Luke grins. “Yup. That’s the one.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You guys are the worst.”

“And yet, we just helped you find your new favorite dress,” Jack points out.

You sigh. “Fine. But you’re still buying me coffee.”

Luke claps his hands. “Worth it.”

Meanwhile, back at the lake house, Quinn gets a text.

Luke: Mission accomplished.

He exhales, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Three more days.

Three Days Before

The morning sun spills through the windows of the lake house, casting warm golden hues over the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you pour a cup of coffee, the scent of roasted beans filling the air. Ellen is at the stove flipping pancakes while Jim reads the newspaper at the table, occasionally sipping his coffee. Jack and Luke sit across from him, bickering over who gets the last piece of toast.

Quinn stands by the fridge, looking unusually tense as he scrolls through his phone. You don’t think much of it—he’s always been the quiet, deep-in-thought type—but there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you that makes you pause.

"Morning," you say, leaning against the counter as you take a slow sip of coffee. "What's up?"

Quinn's head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers tighten around his phone, and for a second, he looks almost guilty.

"Uh—nothing. Just checking something." His voice is too quick, too casual, and you narrow your eyes.

Before you can push him further, Ellen calls over her shoulder, "Sweetheart, could you grab the syrup?"

You nod and step toward the pantry, but just as you do, Quinn leans closer to Ellen and whispers something.

You freeze mid-step.

It’s barely audible, just the faintest murmur of his voice, but you catch it. Ellen’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she quickly schools her expression into something neutral.

Jim, who’s been mostly uninvolved in the morning chaos, suddenly folds his newspaper with a snap and clears his throat. Jack and Luke immediately stop arguing and sit up straighter, the air shifting ever so slightly.

You narrow your eyes. "Okay, what was that?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "What was what?"

"The whispering. The weird glances. Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a crime?"

Jack lets out a bark of nervous laughter. "Pfft, what? No crime here."

Luke elbows him, and he winces. "We were just—uh, talking about, um—"

"The weather," Jim supplies, nodding sagely.

"The weather?" you repeat flatly.

"Yup," Quinn says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it aggressively like that’ll somehow sell the lie.

You cross your arms, skeptical. "And what, exactly, about the weather required a top-secret family meeting?"

Ellen waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, just—just how lovely it's supposed to be this weekend! Perfect for, um, outdoor activities."

Jack nods. "Yeah, so perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect."

Luke elbows him again.

You squint at them, taking a slow sip of your coffee, watching as they all sit a little too still, looking a little too casual.

Something is definitely going on.

But before you can press further, Quinn suddenly steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Hey, didn’t you want to go into town today?" His voice is soft, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.

You blink up at him. "I mean, yeah, but—"

"Perfect," he says quickly. "You should go. Take your time. Enjoy yourself."

Jack and Luke nod in unison. "Yes. Enjoy. Take hours if you need."

Your eyes dart between them. They are terrible liars. But you sigh, deciding to let it go—for now.

"Fine," you say slowly, grabbing your bag. "But if I find out you guys are hiding something from me—"

"You won’t!" they all chorus at once.

You stare for another long beat before shaking your head and heading for the door.

As soon as it closes behind you, Quinn lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

Luke whistles. "That was way too close."

Jim chuckles. "You boys need to step up your game. She's sharp."

Quinn groans, rubbing his face. "I know. And we still have two more days of this."

Jack claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, bud. You're gonna need it.

Two Days Before 

The lake stretches out before you, calm and glassy under the moonlight. It’s late—too late to still be outside, but the warmth of summer lingers in the air, and neither of you wants to go in just yet.

You sit beside Quinn on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, bare feet skimming the cool water. The night is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant rustling of trees.

Quinn hasn’t said much in the last few minutes.

He sits close—so close that your shoulders press together, his warmth seeping into you. His hand is resting between you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you but is too lost in thought to do it.

You nudge him gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He exhales, a soft, slow sound. "Just thinking."

You tilt your head, watching him. His profile is illuminated by the glow of the moon, sharp angles softened by the night. His jaw flexes, and his fingers tighten slightly against the dock.

"About what?"

He hesitates, then turns to you. "The future."

Your chest tightens, a warmth blooming there. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I was just thinking about... where we'll be, years from now." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What it'll look like."

You smile, leaning into him. "And? What does it look like?"

He glances down at his hands. "Us," he says simply. "Still together. Maybe a house. Maybe a dog." His lips twitch. "You always talk about wanting a golden retriever."

Your heart stutters.

"You actually listen when I say that?"

His brow furrows. "Of course I do."

There’s something so earnest about the way he says it—so completely sure.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I like that version of the future," you say softly.

Quinn looks at you then, his eyes dark and unreadable, something heavy sitting behind them. For a second, you think he’s about to say something—something big.

But instead, he squeezes your hand.

"Me too."

He presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, then rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes, breathing him in, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.

Neither of you says anything else.

But Quinn’s already made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he finds the perfect spot.

And in two days, he asks you to be his forever.

One Day Before 

The lake stretches endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of deep blue beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze tugs at your hair, and the rhythmic rocking of the boat lulls you into a peaceful state. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a passing jet ski or the soft lapping against the side of the boat.

You inhale deeply, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you lean back against the cushioned seat. The warmth of the sun kisses your skin, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like time has slowed down.

Jim sits at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as he navigates through the open water. His expression is relaxed, a rare sight considering the chaos that usually follows whenever all three of his boys are together.

Ellen sits beside you, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she watches the water shimmer.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice light with contentment.

You nod, shifting slightly to soak in more of the sun. “Yeah, it really is.”

It’s not often that you get moments like this—just the three of you. Usually, Jack and Luke are wreaking havoc, Quinn is rolling his eyes fondly at their antics, and everything is a blur of chirps and laughter. But today is quiet. Peaceful.

You glance around the boat, taking in the emptiness where Quinn should be.

Your chest tightens slightly.

This morning, when you asked him if he was coming, he had been vague—mumbling something about needing to run an errand and promising he’d see you later. You hadn’t pushed, but now, with the afternoon stretching on without him, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ellen asks gently, tilting her head toward you.

You blink, realizing you had been staring at the empty seat beside you. Forcing a smile, you nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Ellen hums knowingly. “Quinn will be back soon, don’t worry. He’s probably just making sure whatever he’s doing is absolutely perfect.”

Jim chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Sounds about right.”

You frown slightly, narrowing your eyes. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Ellen and Jim exchange a quick glance, but Ellen’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over to pat your hand. “We always know something you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and comfort. You soak up every moment—the way the sun reflects off the water like scattered diamonds, the sound of Jim’s easy laughter, the way Ellen insists on reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders even though you swear you’re fine.

And for a little while, you let yourself forget the strange feeling in your chest.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Quinn is on a mission.

Your absence is a weight he feels in his chest, but he knows this is worth it.

His boots crunch against the forest floor as he makes his way through the secluded clearing he stumbled upon earlier. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the quiet only disturbed by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It’s perfect. Tucked away from the main trails, surrounded by towering trees, with a small opening where the lake peeks through.

This is it.

Carefully, he unrolls the string of photos he printed last week, each one capturing a frozen moment in time—the two of you at your first hockey game together, laughing with noses pressed close; a blurry snapshot of you mid-laugh, taken when you weren’t looking; a quiet moment in bed, tangled in the sheets with sunlight painting your skin.

Every single one tells your story.

His hands shake slightly as he fastens them to the branches, adjusting them until they drape just right.

“Dude, this is insanely romantic,” Jack mutters behind him.

Quinn steps back, hands on his hips as he surveys the clearing. The photos sway gently in the breeze, catching the fading sunlight. Everything is almost perfect.

Except for Jack, who is standing in the middle of the setup like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is so weird,” Jack complains, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I have to be her.”

Quinn sighs, rubbing his temples. “Because I need to make sure everything looks right, and you’re the closest to her height.”

“That’s actually so offensive,” Jack deadpans. “I don’t even know how, but it is.”

Luke snorts from behind the camera. “Just shut up and stand there, man. You’re ruining the vision.”

Jack groans dramatically but doesn’t move. “You owe me for this, dude. Big time.”

Quinn ignores him, stepping closer to adjust the positioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to picture you standing there instead of his little brother, who is doing a horrible job of being still.

“This is where I’ll kneel,” Quinn murmurs, mostly to himself. He drops down, testing the angle, the feel of the moment. His heart races, imagining the way you’ll look—eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, the way your breath will hitch right before you say yes.

Jack stares down at him, unimpressed. “I feel like I should be flattered, but mostly I feel like an idiot.”

Quinn huffs, looking up at him. “Can you at least pretend to be in love with me?”

Jack stares blankly for a second before bursting out laughing. “Dude. Dude. I cannot take this seriously.” He turns to Luke, who’s adjusting the camera settings. “Are you getting this? The absolute desperation in his eyes?”

Luke barely glances up. “You’re making it worse.”

“I’m making this worse?” Jack gestures at the setup. “Quinn is professing his undying love to me right now, and I’M the problem?”

Quinn groans, running a hand over his face. “Just shut up and look moved or something.”

Jack schools his expression into something vaguely serious and stares dramatically into the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says, voice overly soft. “We’ve been through so much together.”

Luke nearly drops the camera laughing. “Oh my god,” he wheezes.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Jack smirks, but he does settle down a little, standing a bit more still as Quinn makes the final adjustments.

After a few minutes of adjusting the lighting and the placement of the photos, Luke finally lifts the camera. “Alright, let’s get a test shot.”

Jack sighs dramatically but stays put. Quinn watches as Luke moves around, snapping photos from different angles. He frowns slightly, tilting the camera to check the preview.

“It looks good,” Luke says slowly, adjusting the focus. “But I think we need—Jack, stop standing like that.”

Jack scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like a dude who is about to ask another dude to prom,” Luke deadpans. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Jack throws his arms out. “Because I am uncomfortable! I am literally standing in the middle of a fake proposal, playing the role of my brother’s girlfriend.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Fine. Just—stand normal.”

Jack exhales sharply but follows instructions, his posture finally settling into something less stiff.

Luke snaps a few more photos before nodding. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the shot.”

Quinn steps back, taking in the clearing one last time. The photos, the lighting, the atmosphere—it’s all exactly how he pictured it. His heart pounds as he exhales, the reality of it hitting him all at once.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you will be standing here.

Tomorrow, you will be the one in front of him when he kneels.

And tomorrow, you will say yes.

Jack claps him on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alright, Romeo. Can we go now? I have literally never felt more single in my life.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness behind it. “Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke stretches, shoving the camera back into his bag. “You better make this the best proposal of all time, bro. Because if we went through all of this for nothing—”

Quinn grins, confidence settling in his chest. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jack sighs dramatically. “You owe us.”

Quinn just laughs, already imagining how perfect tomorrow will be.

That night, you’re curled up in bed when Quinn finally slips into the room. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he slides beneath the covers, pulling you into his arms.

“You have fun today?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you hum, half-asleep. “Missed you.”

His chest tightens.

He buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “Missed you too.”

You sigh softly, relaxing into him.

Quinn stays awake long after you drift off, heart thudding with anticipation.

One more night.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Proposal Day

The morning sun filters through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the lake house. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching the Hughes family settle into their usual breakfast chaos.

Jack is the first to steal the last piece of toast off Luke’s plate, and Luke retaliates by flicking a grape at his forehead. Quinn sighs, stirring his coffee like he’s debating whether it’s worth intervening. Ellen is at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Jim nurses his coffee at the table, reading something on his phone.

Ellen turns toward you with a smile. “I was thinking,” she starts, “since everyone’s here, we should do a nice family dinner tonight.”

Luke perks up. “Ooh, like a fancy dinner? Do I have to wear a button-up?”

“Yes,” Ellen says firmly.

Jack groans dramatically. “Can I at least wear my nice hoodie?”

Jim barely looks up. “No.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your coffee. “A dinner sounds nice.”

Ellen nods. “Good, because I already bought all the stuff.”

Quinn finally speaks, glancing at you. “You should wear that dress you got.”

You arch an eyebrow. “The one you definitely weren’t scheming to get me to buy?”

Jack and Luke both snicker, and Quinn glares at them before turning back to you, feigning innocence. “What? I just think you’d look really nice in it.”

Luke leans in conspiratorially. “You should do it. Mostly because if you don’t, Quinn will spend the entire dinner sulking and staring at you like a sad puppy.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Jack smirks. “Nope. That’s how we end up with emo Quinn, and nobody wants that.”

Quinn groans. “I hate all of you.”

Ellen hides a smile as she flips another pancake. “You love them,” she corrects.

Quinn sighs, shooting you a hopeful glance. “So, the dress?”

You shake your head, amused. “Fine. But if I do, Luke and Jack owe me dessert.”

Luke claps a hand over his heart. “Done.”

Jack nods. “Easiest deal of my life.”

Quinn smiles to himself, satisfied. One step closer.

Dinner starts out promising enough. The table is set, the food looks amazing, and the sunset paints the lake in warm hues. It should be perfect.

And then… things start to go sideways.

First, Luke—being Luke—tries to help bring the dishes to the table and nearly drops the salad bowl. In his panic to save it, he elbows Jack, who’s carrying a basket of rolls. The bread goes flying, one roll landing directly in Jim’s drink.

“Nice,” Jim mutters, plucking it out with a sigh.

Ellen shakes her head, clearly unimpressed but used to this kind of chaos. “Can we go one meal without something ending up on the floor?”

Jack, unfazed, shrugs. “Technically, it landed in Dad’s glass.”

You try to hold back a laugh as Quinn pulls out a chair for you, but the moment you sit, you realize something is… off. The seat wobbles, just enough to be noticeable, and before you can react, one of the legs gives way entirely.

“Shit—”

You barely manage to catch yourself before fully hitting the ground. Quinn moves fast, steadying you before you can completely fall, but the damage is done. Luke is doubled over laughing, and Jack is wheezing so hard he can’t breathe.

“I—” Jack tries, but he’s laughing too hard to finish. “I swear—we didn’t—touch—that chair—”

Quinn glares at them before looking at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, face burning as you straighten up. “Just my pride taking a hit.”

Ellen sighs. “That chair was wobbly this morning. I told you boys to fix it.”

Jack wipes a tear from his eye. “Well, now we know it was definitely broken.”

Dinner resumes, and for a few blessed minutes, everything is normal. The conversation flows, the food is delicious, and you almost forget about the earlier chaos.

Until Luke, in all his wisdom, decides he needs more steak sauce. He reaches across the table, miscalculating just how close his elbow is to your glass of wine.

The second the glass tips, it’s over.

Red wine splashes everywhere—your dress, the table, Quinn’s sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, pushing back from the table as the cold liquid soaks into the fabric.

Luke freezes. “Oh—oh, shit. Oh, no—”

Ellen is already up, grabbing napkins. “Luke.” Her voice is the kind of exasperated that only comes from years of dealing with sons who can’t sit still. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Luke looks at you with pure panic. “I—I can fix this—”

Jack leans back, shaking his head. “Man, you just ruined her dress.”

“I know!” Luke groans, looking like he genuinely feels terrible. “I’ll—uh—I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Quinn, who’s been silent through all of this, takes one look at you and then turns to Luke with the calmest voice imaginable.

“Get up.”

Luke blinks. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

There’s a long pause before Luke, sensing the very real possibility of Quinn throwing him into the lake, slowly pushes his chair back and stands.

Quinn doesn’t hesitate—he grabs Luke’s napkin and dabs at your dress, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you not to sit next to her.”

Luke throws his hands up. “How is this my fault?!”

Ellen sighs again. “Alright, alright, it’s just a little wine.” She turns to you. “Honey, let’s go see if we can salvage your dress.”

You follow her inside, but despite her best efforts, the stain refuses to come out.

You sigh, looking at Ellen through the mirror. “Ellen, I think it’s unsalvageable.”

She looks up at you, guilt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really.”

When you return downstairs, Luke looks like a kicked puppy, eyes glued to the floor. Quinn scans your dress, his jaw tightening.

“Goddammit, Luke,” Quinn mutters.

You step beside him, nudging Luke lightly with your foot. “It’s fine, really,” you say softly.

Quinn exhales, rubbing his jaw before looking at you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

You blink at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain. “Right now.”

You hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the lake. The sound of crickets hums in the background as you and Quinn walk in comfortable silence, his fingers laced through yours. The chaos of dinner fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your feet.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him.

Quinn exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… today didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

You squeeze his hand. “You had a plan?”

His smile grows slightly. “Believe it or not, yeah. Kind of.”

You smirk. “Well, that was your first mistake.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

You keep walking, but the farther you go, the more familiar the path becomes. It’s only when the trees thin, revealing a quiet clearing, that you realize where he’s leading you. Your steps slow as you take it in.

Strung between the branches, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon and the fairy lights Quinn must have set up earlier, are dozens of photos—memories captured and preserved in time.

Your breath catches as you step forward, reaching out to gently touch one of them. It’s a picture from your first hockey game together, noses nearly pressed together as you grinned at the camera. Another of you mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. One from a lazy morning in bed, sunlight spilling across your tangled limbs.

Every single one tells your story.

You turn back to Quinn, your chest tight with emotion. “You did all this?”

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I—I wanted you to see what I see. Every time I look at you, it’s just… it’s all of this. Every moment, every memory, everything that makes us, us.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he continues, voice quiet but steady. “I had this whole idea in my head—this big, perfect moment. The dinner, the dress, the way tonight was supposed to go.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “And then Luke knocked wine all over you, and Jack wouldn’t stop chirping, and everything kind of fell apart.”

You smile, tilting your head. “Sounds about right.”

Quinn looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah. But then I realized… this is perfect.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh, almost like he’s realizing it in real time. “The chaos, the interruptions, the fact that nothing ever goes exactly how we plan it. That’s us. That’s our life.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then lets go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. And suddenly, he’s kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his palm, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“I don’t need the perfect moment,” he says, looking up at you. “I just need you.”

Your heart pounds, your vision blurring as you try to take in everything at once—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers tremble just slightly around the box, the way the entire world feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“Marry me?” he asks, voice soft but sure.

You let out a shaky breath, a laugh breaking through the tears already forming in your eyes. “Quinn, of course I’ll marry you.”

A breath of relief escapes him before he grins—grins in that rare, open way he only does when he’s truly happy. He stands quickly, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing through your tears. “God, I love you.”

His grip tightens around you, his voice warm against your ear. “Love you more.”

By the time you and Quinn make it back, hand in hand, the Hughes family is waiting—Jack and Luke perched on the couch, Jim leaning against the counter, and Ellen practically bouncing in place.

Jack spots the ring first. “Oh my god—”

Ellen claps her hands together, her eyes shining. “You said yes?”

You hold up your hand, and the room erupts.

Jack groans dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “I can’t believe this. Quinn won at life.”

Jim claps Quinn on the shoulder with a proud nod, and Ellen pulls you into a tight hug, murmuring how happy she is for you both.

Luke hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting toward you before dropping to the floor. His face is tight, like he’s been debating something in his head.

You don’t give him the chance to overthink it. Without a word, you step toward him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Luke stiffens in surprise before slowly relaxing, exhaling a breath. “I—I really didn’t mean to ruin your dress,” he mumbles, voice small.

You smile against his shoulder. “I know, Luke. It’s just a dress.”

He hesitates before hugging you back, his grip a little tight, like he’s still worried about the whole thing. “I felt really bad.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Well, you can make it up to me by giving a really good speech at the wedding.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—I can do a speech?”

Quinn sighs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

Luke smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Jack groans. “Oh god, this is gonna be unbearable.”

Quinn shakes his head, pulling you back to his side. “I should’ve proposed in private,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Nah. This is perfect.”

And as the Hughes family falls into their usual rhythm of chirps and laughter, as Quinn’s hand tightens around yours, you know that nothing—no chaos, no spilled wine, no wobbly chairs—could have made this moment any better.

[hanbinics]

!crybaby reader just can't sleep... and it's driving !dealer chris insane.

chris is exhausted. after a long night of his phone buzzing nonstop with calls, pickups, and drop-offs, he’s ready to just fucking sleep. but the girl next to him—his girl—has other plans.

as if to prove his point, you huff dramatically, flopping onto your side for what has to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. then onto your back. then onto your stomach. then back onto your side again, your warm body nudging against his like a restless little kitten. one thing about you is that even if you don’t outright say something is bothering you, you’re going to make it known somehow.

chris cracks an eye open, barely illuminated by the soft blue glow of the alarm clock by his bed. “the hell are you doin’?” he grumbles, voice rough with sleep, low and grumbly.

“i can’t sleep,” you whine in response, dragging out the last word like a complaint. the noise makes him exhale heavily through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face.

“so y’just gonna toss and turn all night?”

he stares at you incredulously when you turn to face him fully, a pout resting on your pretty lips. even in the dark, he can feel the heat of your gaze, the way you bat those big, pitiful eyes at him like it’s his responsibility to fix this. and because you are who you are—because you’re his—chris can’t help but suppose that it is.

the brunette exhales then, long and slow, before rolling onto his side and gripping your waist. “c’mere.”

you barely have time to react before he’s pulling you against him, sliding a thigh between your own and pressing a slow, lazy kiss to the side of your neck. you squirm underneath him at the warmth of his breath, another whimper slipping past your lips that goes straight to your boyfriend’s hardening cock.

“chris...” you start, confusion lacing your tone and expression, but then he’s sliding a hand under the hem of your shirt, long fingers dragging over the softness of your skin.

“shh,” he murmurs back in response, sharp white teeth glinting in the soft light filtering his room as he nips lightly at your jaw. “y’wanna sleep or not?”

you do. so you go quiet as a shiver runs down your spine, hands clutching at his arm as he tilts your chin up, brushing his lips over yours in a teasing, featherlight kiss that has you chasing after him for more, only to be met with a smirk.

“relax,” he whispers, those teasing fingers now dipping lower than before, finding exactly what he’s looking for the moment he brushes over your puffy clit, and a soft gasp leaves your perfect mouth. “i got you, baby.”

it doesn’t take long before your body is melting into his touch, the tension slipping from your limbs as pleasure overpowers frustration, replacing your restless pouts with soft, needy whimpers. he’s careful to take his time, to draw it out, making sure you feel every flick of his wrist, every press of his rough palm into your clit while your hips shift down in search of more from the long strokes his fingers offer you. usually he’d chastise you for being so greedy, but he’s too surprised by the quickness in which your orgasm arrives, your grip on his wrist tightening as you gasp against his mouth, falling apart in his hands with your back arching from the mattress.

it’s not until you’re whimpering uncomfortably from his long digits still being inside you that he finally retracts, blue eyes taking in his own glistening fingers before he’s popping them into his mouth, eyes closing briefly with a soft grunt as he cleans up your arousal with great care. the sight of him doing so never fails to make your cheeks warm with embarrassment, wondering if you really taste that good or if he’s so blinded by how much he loves you.

with a soft, tired smirk, chris presses one last slow kiss to your temple as you curl into him, your breathing finally slowing, deep and even.

“better?” he murmurs, already knowing the answer.

but he still listens to the sleepy little hum of agreement you offer in return, your body limp and satisfied against his as he pulls the covers higher over both of you, letting his own eyes drift shut once and for all.

“good girl,” he mutters, and within seconds, he’s asleep to the sound and feel of your gentle breaths against his neck and the satisfying knowledge that his girl is taken care of.

©hanbinics

[hitlikehammers]

POV: when you overhear your boyfriend’s bandmates who ⛔️do not like you⛔️ talking to him—about YOU

“Be real though, Ed. Harrington? You can’t actually be serious, here.” Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle. Which is to say he totally does it. He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it. “You got me,” Eddie sighs, longer and deeper than can be taken wholly seriously. “I’m running my longest successful con to date.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, established relationship, corroded coffin, as in: the gang’s all here and being VERY JUDGEMENTAL of eddie’s taste in men, and maybe steve had to pick eddie up from practice today so he overhears it WHOLLY WITHOUT INTENDING TO OKAY?, no one ever REALLY want to hear what the people they love really think of them when said people don’t know who all’s actually listening, true love, declarations of feelings, it’s actually really fucking hard to stand up to your friends, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day ten: "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." —Dr. Seuss

also! Unnamed Freak is Doug for the purpose of this fic because the book can fuck itself I say so 🖤

“Be real though, Ed,” the voice that filters through, and holds Steve’s hand from pushing the car door shut loud enough to notice, is fairly reasonable, like trying to talk down a suggestion absurd enough to send someone to the ER—which means, of the subjects at hand? It’s gotta be Jeff.

“You can’t actually be serious, here.”

Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.

Which is to say he totally does it.

He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.

“You got me,” Eddie deadpans, but it’s like, venom-laced. It stings just to hear and Steve’s struck with how much his life’s changed since Spring Break, and more still since…well.

Since Eddie.

Because Steve is well aware the man can cut glass with how sharp his tongue can get, they did go to high school together whether they ran in the same circles or not.

It’s just strikes Steve in the moment that not once since Vecna, has Eddie turns that tongue on him.

Now, other uses of his tongue—

“I’m running my longest successful con to date. Yep, totally pulled it over on all you bitches,” and where it could be playful, every single word is sharpened to stab, to pierce, to drag the wound out so it bleeds, like a shiv to remind someone where they fucked up, in perpetuity.

“Please applaud.”

And oh, even Steve flinches at that tone, and he’s not even the target. Hell, he’s still in the driveway—he doesn’t make a rule of crashing band practice, no matter whose parents’ garage they’re using; Eddie’s van is just regularly in the shop for one thing or another, so he’s gotta come get his man. But he doesn’t, like, push his way in. Sometimes doesn’t even get out of the driver’s seat. He knows Eddie would more than welcome him; has the handful of times he’s ventured to step in to apologize for interrupting but remind him they have to pick up the shitheads. But one: Eddie is alone in his welcome, and like, the polar opposite of the other three guys, who range from staring daggers at Steve to sneering so scrunched up to the nose that it’d give Carol Perkins at her snittiest a run for her money.

And Steve wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to recognise where he’s not wanted, and learn how to make the calculated decision of whether to walk or push his way in. And much as he loves Eddie? Steve actually wants his friends to eventually come around from probably, like, muttering ancestral curses under their breaths at him or something.

Plus, from what Steve understands? Jam sessions are personal. Sacred. Eddie had blushes and stammered the first time he let Steve listen in on works in progress; and Steve had rewarded him for the gift of it liberally and with genuine gusto. It’s earned him repeat performances on the regular, but Steve gets it’s a private thing in general. And these guys don’t know him, don’t presently care to—don’t trust him.

He figures it’s like…masturbating in front of someone. The art thing, the depth of making music and stuff. Showing your soul a little bit, losing control for the betterment of the final product.

Now, he and Eddie definitely have masturbated together, it’s actually fantastic foreplay, or even just a deliciously sloppy go on its own. But that’s neither here nor there. And also totally fucking different.

Steve really doesn’t want Eddie masturbating in front of anyone other than him, ever again. Steve’s sure as shit not looking to on his end; definitely not with the other members of Corroded fucking Coffin.

The metaphor might have gotten away from him. But you get the picture.

“No, man,” and that’s, that’s Gareth’s voice, Steve’s almost sure. Sharper. Concerned but also caustic on the undertow. “It’s just,” he snorts, the disbelieving sort: “this can’t be real.”

Okay, yeah. Tone plus actual words add up.

“Yeah, just,” Doug laughs a little nervous, like of all of them, Eddie’s verbal attack had the most weight in tempering his response of the three of them; “blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

They all chuckle, but it’s toned down the whole way around—even Steve can clock that. These guys are boisterous when left to their devices, Steve’s taken note of that. Mostly watching from the sidelines—almost exclusively when they don’t know he’s there to watch.

Again: does not condone eavesdropping.

Does not try at all to refrain from doing it.

“I mean, you don’t expect us to believe you’re actually fucking him,” and oh, yeah, okay: Steve was pretty sure he was the topic conversation here, and despite some of the setbacks of recent years, he’s not insecure when it comes to relationships especially.

He’s definitely the only one fucking Eddie. And Eddie’s the only one fucking him.

And while he doesn’t really hold it against these guys for being wary of him—he wasn’t really a perpetrator of their high school woes, but he definitely didn’t do anything to make them less…woeful—so he’s mostly bummed about it for Eddie’s sake, and on principle, but like, seriously.

Doubting Steve successfully scoring Eddie Munson? Like, Eddie’s a catch, Steve of ll people is well aware, but. Steve’s also been long past fishing the shallow end of the pond, y’know?

Give him some credit.

“Right,” Steve narrows back in on what’s happening in the garage that he’s definitely feeling less guilty bout, seeing as he’s definitely a subject of the debate unfolding, but Eddie sounds…angry. Pissed off in that way he gets when he’s fed the fuck up.

“I’m out,” Steve hears scraping of equipment, the guitar case flipped open; “can’t actually make it next week,” he adds like a footnote.

It’s clear within a second he’s the only one who takes it with that same…energy.

“But we have to practice before the open mic—” Jeff, ever the voice of reason, sounds baffled; on his way to ticked off but not quite there yet.

Eddie, however—as is his wont in this type of mood—could not give two shits where the people around him land on the anger-o-meter; he’s exceeded them, even if only in his own head, and they are all therefore irrelevant to his very responsible decision to put distance between himself and doing something stupid he can’t take back.

It’s not the nicest way to deal but, honestly? Steve’s mostly just proud of Eddie for sticking with a coping mechanism that, while not without consequences, generally works better than most.

“I’ll see you guys in two, then. Probably.” And the case clicks shut, definitive, and Steve’s proud of that too; that Eddie’s not digging a hole when the guys re trying to bait him, intentionally or not, over Steve.

Steve doesn’t need Eddie to complicate his band, his friendships, over what the two of them have. One, it’s not their fucking business. And two?

Steve doesn’t thing he’s being self-important in saying he and Eddie…are bigger, and more, than even the very beat high school band.

Not that Steve would ever ask Eddie to choose or some bullshit like that. And he really does believe Eddie’s going places, if that’s what he decides he wants. But…there’s that.

Then there is them.

Different, like, stratospheres.

“What the fuck came up that you can’t make it next week? When we’re staring down our first actual shot at Battle of the Bands this year,” and yeah, of course, if anyone’s gonna try to drag the whole thing out, it’s Gareth. Kid’s got a fucking temper.

“Something more important.”

Which yeah, that’s what was going through Steve’s mind, basically, but—

“The hell could be more—“

“I have plans,” Eddie hisses, viper-quick and fucking deadly, shuts them all right up for it, but then he spins a 180–preens so big Steve swears he can hear his shoulders go back and his chest puff out:

“It’s my anniversary.”

So…yeah. Just because it was where Steve’s head had just been at doesn’t mean his whole chest goes all gooey to hear it said out loud.

And in front of Eddie’s band, who…they aren’t hiding from, but they have discussed keeping kinda mum around. For the same kinds of reasons Steve’s been privy to just in the past couple minutes.

But then Eddie’s voice follows the feeling in Steve’s chest like they’re tethered there, and honestly, more times than not?

Steve thinks they just might actually be, and he’s not proven wrong with the way Eddie halfway coos:

“Our anniversary.”

“Your what?”

Jeff, again, is that middle ground: actually confused, laced with being angry that Eddie’s ducking out.

“Six months,” Eddie answers, soft-like, a little dreamy but in this way that’s rooted somehow still, and in being struck all over again by a level of shock Steve understands, sometimes feels in reverse, but still doesn’t understand being felt so deep as it sounds, now, when it’s applied to…him.

It’s wild y’know?

“I’m like,” Steve hears Eddie’s curls brush against something as he shakes his head—Steve’s money’s on him crouched by his case, or having it already slung over his shoulder:

“Never thought I’d get something to celebrate like that in the first place, but get to keep it, that long without fucking it up?”

Steve, again, wants to give up the pretense and walk the fuck in there and kiss the shit out of his boyfriend because one, same, but two?

Dumbass.

Steve goddamn adores him.

“You mean, with Harrington?” Gareth’s spitting and Steve just shakes his head, a little sad—he doesn’t know what’s crawled up that kid’s ass about him, man; he’s not so much younger that Steve never saw him or didn’t know of him but godDamn: the circles he ran in at the time weren’t the ones doing shit yet when they were in the same elementary school, Steve was barely popular in middle school, and come high school the worst anyone he knew did to the frosh was bang them into a locker—not great, but.

Not worth this shit. And the worst part is if he doesn’t know what’s crawled he did to really piss Gareth off this bad? He can’t even try to Harrington-charm his way back into the guy’s tolerable category. Like, even his best fucking not-pot brownie recipe didn’t sway the fucker.

“Yes,” Eddie is answering, the answer emphatic, like he’s brimming with feeling over it, but then clipped too, like demonstrating that he was brimming and is now being forced to clip it all backis very much the intent: “of course I mean with Steve, who the fuck else?”

It’s not lost on Steve how Eddie says his name. Ever. All the name.

But right now, how he’s making a point to say it in that warm, kinda…beloved way, when anyone else uses his last name in a way that’s anything-but.

“You cannot be—” Gareth scoffs, Steve can imagine him throwing up his hands, that sort of deal, but then Eddie comes in, and it’s a tone Steve’s only ever hear when he’s about to run a campaign into the ground where the characters may never recover, and if somehow manage it, they’ll wish they hadn’t:

“Oh, I am deadly serious.”

Because it’s not Steve’s character, but in defense of Steve’s relationship, that tone trickles something molten through his veins and prickles up his spine and…he’s gone have to stick that one in his back pocket to explore at a later date, for sure.

“Six months?”

Jeff—and Steve kinda likes Jeff, and not for the reason his bandmates would like, that he kicks around Hawkins after graduation, too, but more because Steve knows why; that’s to make more money for a college outside Indiana, and Steve thinks that’s fucking cool—but it’s here where Jeff dips fully away from being angry to being stupefied. Steve lets himself smirk at nothing because fuck yes: him and Eddie.

Six whole goddamn months.

“I was actually gonna ask you guys to come over soon, introduce him properly and stuff,” Eddie says, the disappointment in his voice again; Steve’s niggling desire to go and hug him from behind, maybe kiss under his ear a little, back in full force.

“He picks you up from practice, we see him,” Doug pipes back up, likewise confused, but Steve just takes the useful confirmation that no one did catch on that he pulled up ages ago, now.

“We know who Steve Harrington is—” Gareth snaps, protests in the way that betrays his eye-rolling, his thin-wearing patience.

“No!”

And that comes out of Eddie fierce enough to echo down at least half the block they’re on—seems like Eddie’s patience was worn out a while ago.

“You don’t!”

And everyone is silent in that way Steve knows all too well: when shit’a gone down but now you’re waiting in the edge for the worse thing to hit.

Then it does:

“And it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it up because you dipshits aren’t ready,” Eddie snaps, says dipshitso different from how he does with the Party, theirParty, their kids; he says it here with something real fucking close to disgust.

“Asking hostage questions, fuck off,” he huffs, and Steve hears Eddie’s footsteps, can’t tell if he’s gonna leave it at that, come find Steve and know he’s been standing there but that’ll be fine, it’s not like Steve wasn’t going to let him know as soon as they left—but then:

“Look,” and Eddie sounds the way Steve sounds when he’s pinching the bridge of his nose to fight a growing migraine, the sting of tears for all sorts of pain behind his eyes, and that hurts to hear from his boyfriend, like, a lot.

It fucking hurts.

“I am not just fucking him,” Eddie growls through the bridge-pinching pain; “I mean, fuck yes, I am, but,” and Steve hears the way he swallows all the way down the drive:

“I’m in this for the long haul,” Eddie tells his bandmates like throwing down a gauntlet; “and if you can’t respect me enough, and my choices, that stings,” Steve knows Eddie shrugs then: “but I’ll live.”

Steve’s about a millisecond from saying fuck it, opening the door just to slam it to announce his approach, and then going to physically grab his boyfriend, drag him to the car, and park in the abandoned lot down from the Wheelers’ neighborhood to kiss him senseless because that’s the closest place he can think of and he doesn’t think he’ll make it to either of their homes before he can’t fucking handle himself.

“But if you are gonna disrespect the man I love, no. Absolutely not.”

Eddies voice is a deadly sort of whisper. Steve would cower at it, the way it washes through a person, if he hadn’t just…said.

That.

“You love him?”

And for what Steve thinks is the first time since he climbed out of the car and committed to listening where he wasn’t invited, Gareth sounds…muted. Genuinely asking a question.

Steve, for his own part, kinda expected that he’d be more breathless, heart racing and shit, to hear the answer but in reality?

“Of course I love him.”

Steve already knew that in his cells, in his bones.

In his steady, not all-that-fast but particularly-especially-happily beating heart.

“Have you guys, like, said it and stuff?”

And of course Steve already knows that answer, both the literal one and the one that matters more, but he does perk up a bit, curious to hear what—if anything of note—Eddie chooses to give away here.

“He has,” Eddie says, and now…now maybe Steve should stop listening because this part, the way Eddie says that as flat fact—Steve doesn’t knowthis part beyond speculation. But…

“I wanted to, like,” and eddies voice can’t hide the way he’s gotta have that soft smile, the one he used to hide behind his hair before Steve started pulling it back to see in full, so now he only brings his hair out just to tease, to okay.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted much in my whole life, but he’s,” and Steve thinks he hears how Eddie chews his bottom lip for a second, in the subtlest click of how it slips free before Eddie takes a deep breath and—

“He doesn’t know what he’s worth,” Eddie starts, a little mournful almost, even, and Steve is unexpectedly glued to the spot in his fucking Nikes.

“He doesn’t understand that I’d sell the sun and the moon just to keep him,” Eddie’s saying, and with passion. With whole-ass honesty. And here, maybe, is where Steve gets to have some of the heart:fluttery feeling after all:

“He comes out the gate with the whole you don’t have to say it back and I just,” Eddie sighs, sniffs a little before heaving another breath deep enough to stretch his shirt, which Steve’s not imagining or anything, at all;

“I couldn’t say it, not right then, and risk him everthinking it was something I’d done to like, match. Like that I didn’t mean it with everything I’ve got, when I mean it with everything I’ve got and then also everything else. Like, anywhere. Ever.”

Steve realized he’d stopped breathing at some point when the little dots start floating in front of his eyes and he sucks in a shaking breath because: he’s known Eddie loves him. Unshakeably.

But, but all this—

“I couldn’t say it and have him ever wondered if I wouldn’t rip my heart out of my chest just to keep his safe.”

And of-fucking-course Steve’s pulse is running fucking riot about how much he’s in love right now, make no goddamn mistake. Jesus, he—

“Fuck.”

And Steve has never heard Gareth Emerson pushed just this side of speechless but: that’s the best way Steve can describe the kind of breathless wonder he says it with, like watching a rare bird take flight.

“You mean it.”

And Steve can pick out Eddie’s huffs and categorize them, on demand at this point: he doesn’t need to see the eye-roll to know Eddie’s deemed the expression of pure shock to be so beneath him in this specific context that he’s deemed it unworthy of any more attention.

His heart’s not jumping that loud to have missed it. So.

Steve just kinda grins toward the blacktop under his shoes.

“Why didn’t you,” Doug starts, still—usually, really, in Steve’s limited experience at least—the peacekeeper, the one who’s most invested at the human level when he’s not getting swept up in whatever the rest of the gang has deemed the cool thing to laugh at or make fun of at any given moment.

The huff Eddie gives this time is his incredulous one, which allows for just the slightest bit more consideration:

“The fuck do you think?”

The slightest bit, being the operative point.

“I’d hoped you’d take it better but,” Eddie adds, and there’s less drama in it than Steve might have expected. He’s being serious with them, and he sounds…disappointed.

Steve kinda want to make some kind of noise, give away his position, and just…hug Eddie tight from behind, if nothing else. Be there. Solid against him, wrapped up around him. Never wavering. Always at his back as much as at his side.

But Eddie’s not done:

“I’m not even asking you to like him, just be decent,” and it sounds like it hurts him to say as much, and Steve knows why; he genuinely despises when anyone thinks Lea with a the very beat thing about Steve. Steve believes this to be n unreasonable standard, and has expressed as much to Eddie who nods and smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead and does absolutely nothing to change his stance, but deep down?

Steve fucking feels so…loved for it.

“And like I said,” Steve can hear the judgement in Eddie’s tone clear as day; “you’re not ready, and I’m not putting him in that kind of situation.”

Steve sucks on the inside of his cheek, lest his grin at the way Eddie is not just defending him, but…protecting him, not his honor but his heart…

No ones ever even tried that before. Steve may not need it, or maybe he just learned he couldn’t survive needing it.

Getting it now…now it’s just…

Wow.

“And I’m in this for keeps, like, this is a forever type thing, so long as he wants it,” Eddie saying, explaining the color of a sky to a small child like what these words are that fundamental, that unalterably true. “So—”

“We’ve known each other forever, man,” Gareth eventually mutters, sounds indignant, but mostly gutted.

Steve knows before it happens that it’s not gonna make a difference.

“And we can still know each other. Just not everything, anymore,” and Eddie does sound a little sad but he’s…he’s a monolith, unshakable. “I don’t trust you with the parts that revolve around him, yet,” and Steve feels more than hears the ways his friends deflate, maybe shrink for being deemed so…insufficient. In the eyes of their ostensible leader, no less.

“Eddie, we didn’t,” Jeff starts, slow, and he doesn’t sound remorseful but—Eddie has all those coping mechanisms for a reason, right?

Because he’s quick to feeling, good and bad, and sometimes neither is fit to the moment.

Steve can’t help but be kinda glad Eddie doesn’t bother with those mechanisms just now, though, if it means he gets to hear this part:

“I know you didn’t, that’s the fucking problem,” Eddie groans, Steve can see the way he lens, bends at the knees and throws his body around a little in sheer, undiluted exasperation. “

“Because I could tell you he’s changed since school, and that’d be true, but that’s not even it,” and there’s more of the frustrated stomping round, Steve can hear it, but he’s…he’s ready distracted by that thing in his chest that has to has to be tied up in Eddie’s, too, that thing tugging on him to pay the fuck attention.

And who is he to ignore it?

“he was never who we thought he was in school in the first place. He is,” Eddie licks his lips, just to snack them loud:

“He is kind and funny, and goofy, and such a fuckin’ nerd, and he’s smart in these incredible ways where he’s sees what everyone else misses, and he’s protective as fuck and he’s got a heart of gold,” and Eddie’s voice only gets more heartfelt in its own right that longer he goes and Steve just, he’s, it’s—

“And I would tear my skin off just so it doesn’t get so much as a scuff on it,” Eddie ends with the most scathing delivery imaginable: he fucking meansthis shit. And Steve is going o live and die next to this man, scuffed heart still kept safe to the fucking end, he will swear that shit to anyone who needs to hear it.

He is going to have a whole fucking life with Eddie Munson, and love him for every single breath of it.

“And I don’t trust you guys yet not to tempt me to tear off my skin,” Eddie says finally after enough silence to catch his breath, and temper his tone just enough to sound tired; a little dejected. “I don’t trust you with him, and until that changes, we’re still friends,” Eddie sniffs, breathes out long; “you just won’t get to know about that part of me.”

He says it so simple, like he’s not half-cutting off some of the longest, closest friendships he’s ever had, and for Steve.

Steve doesn’t know if it makes him a person, or a really selfish one or whatever, if he doesn’t feel any urge to talk Eddie down, to make him walk it back just a little.

He doesn’t think he cares, though, either way.

“Seems like a really big part of you,” Doug says, deflated entirely.

“It is,” Eddie answers, unapologetic in a way that swells and sparkles in Steve’s ribs. “He is.”

“You’d walk from the band?” Of course Gareth asks, but it’s the first time he sounds small in his words. Like he maybe knows the answer, and isn’t so okay with how he got around to it even before Eddie wishes all doubt:

“In half a fuckin’ heartbeat.” Boom. Done. No hesitation whatsoever.

Less than half-a-fuckin’-heartbeat.

“That’s not what I’m saying I’m doing right now, but,” Eddie laughs a little, and that probably cuts deeper than anything for the boys, Steve suspects, especially when Eddie makes it unquestionable:

“It’s not even a question.”

And…maybe that drives a knife deeper for the band, but for Steve?

Steve kinda wants to…giggle, or some shit. He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted someone who answered a question like that, exactly like that, who talked about Steve exactly like that, without anything to gain, just because they…believed it.

“Jesus,” Gareth mutters, sounds kinda blindsided, kinda thrown and then some.

“If we,” Jeff clears his throat after a long period of quiet; “if we do better, could we meet him someday?” And the way he says it, earnest and shit:, like he wants to at least think about, at least maybe try:

“Like, really meet him?”

Like Eddie means enough that he’ll try, and that sings sweet in Steve’s veins because goddamn straight, his Eddie deserves that from the people hecares about. No matter who or what Steve is, Eddiedeserves that much, and so much more.

But he sounds like even just this is something amazing, Steve can hear the smile in his voice:

“Yeah, man,” he answers Jeff, claps him audibly on the shoulder; “I look forward to it.”

And shit, y’know what?

So does Steve.

“See you in two weeks,” and Eddies footsteps follow, guitar slung over his back for the way his weight falls with each one, but then:

“Eddie!”

That’s Doug; the footsteps stop close to the edge of the garage door as another set rushes to catch up, where he’ll see Steve if he walks much farther, where Steve’s got his hand on the door handle of the car, slowly inching it open to push shut and look wholly-unsuspicious now that Eddie might be followed out to his ride:

“Get him flowers. For your anniversary,” Doug says, tone low like a secret; “I know, like, it might seem like guys wouldn’t want flowers, but,” and Steve actually has to strain to hear the next part:

“My mom gets my dad flowers on his birthday every year, and he lights up like the Fourth of July.”

Steve remembers the first time he ever got flowers. His favorites, even if he thinks he only knew it subconsciously because they were handed to him with the stammering explanation of I don’t even know if you like flowers, or like these ones, but you look at them when we’re out, like, just walking or something and your eyes linger, and these ones just remind me of you and—

Apparently, Steve loves hyacinths. And sunflowers make Eddie think of him.

Because of course Steve’s first gift of flowers came from Eddie.

“Thanks man,” Eddie sounds the lightest, most genuine Steve’s heard him since he pulled up and got out of the car; “they’re already ordered.”

And Doug chuckles, and Steve?

Steve bites down his smile to less exploding-star levels—if he’d just pulled up he doesn’t have a reason, save that Eddie is enough of a reason in Steve’s eyes, his mind, the way his chest expands just thinking on him—as he pulls the car door closed again, loud enough to be noticed.

For Eddie to walk out of the garage fast as anything and meet Steve with a smile of his own that justifies the fuck out of where Steve’s had started, anyway.

All star-bright and everything.

♥️🎸♥️

✨also on ao3✨

btw this is either titled ‘halcyon shoegazing’ or ‘heart in your shoes’ so if you have an opinion you should maybe tell me or something, my brain’s tired and is resisting decisions rn

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here and here

[minarisplaything]

A Good Boy's Reward (ft. TripleS)

summary: your biker mommies decide to reward you for doing a good job on the most recent run. aka these concept photos inspired something tags: threesome, foursome (sort of), pegging, rimming, excessive use of 'baby boy', mommy kink, daddy kink, biker gang!au, domme!Sohyun also known as just Sohyun, male reader, did i mention pegging? seriously don't continue if this isn't your cup of tea word count: 4.6k

“Baby boy, are you ready?” 

You shuddered, feeling Xinyu’s hot breath against your ear. The tall, 174-centimeter goddess stood behind you, her arms circling around your shoulders. Sohyun, who was across the room tinkering with preparations, glanced over her shoulder. Her short-cropped hair only accentuated the smirk that graced her features. 

“Look at him, he’s practically trembling,” she teased.

“He’s just excited,” Nakyoung, the third member of the group, her voice comforting. 

She was kneeling atop the bed so she was eye level with you, her hand rose to stroke your cheek. Her role as a foil to Sohyun’s demeanor was incredibly effective. “Isn’t that right?”

You could only nod at first, your mind still grappling with the situation you found yourself in. 

“I guess I am a little nervous…”

“It is his first big reward after all,” Xinyu said, one hand rising to stroke your hair while the other ran circles against your skin. Her voice was warm and flirtatious, “You’ve really been working hard for us.”

“Yeah, if it weren’t for those last adjustments you made we might have been sitting in a jail cell,” Nakyoung smiled. “You’re our little genius.”

“If you keep praising him like that he’s going to get an ego,” Sohyun chided from across the room. 

“He would never!” Nakyoung protested, a slight pout forming on her features as she looked at Sohyun before turning back to you. “Right?”

“O-of course not,” you stammered.

“Well, if you did then we’d just have to put you in your place,” Sohyun said.

Something about the words she spoke sent another tremble through you. Almost as if you hoped she’d follow through on those words. And, admittedly, a part of you definitely did. 

Xinyu craned her head over her shoulder, noting the way your body was reacting to Sohyun’s words. A small grin spread across her features, “I think he likes that idea.” 

Sohyun looked over, pausing as she tightened a buckle on her hip to look over at you with her eyebrow raised. “Does he? Do you like the idea of mommy putting you in your place, huh? Reminding you that you work for us. That you belong to us.”

You moaned at her words, your cock twitching to life, brushing against Nakyoung’s stomach and she let out an amused gasp. “He definitely does.”

“Maybe we’ll keep that in mind, if we think you deserve it,” Sohyun smirked.

“Seriously though, he did good. Kaede would have been screwed without him,” Nakyoung added.

“I agree,” Xinyu pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Her arm snaked around you, her fingers curling around your cock as she began to stroke you slowly. “That’s why he’s getting this special reward tonight. Our brave boy. Isn’t that right, Sohyun?”

Finally done with her task, Sohyun turned to face you. And what a sight it was. She was nude, her body on display for your gaze as the light from the mirror behind her provided illumination. Your eyes traveled over her soft breast down further to where a strap on dildo was secured firmly on her crotch. Her fingers smoothed over it idly while she stayed at you. The look in her eye said nothing short of her wanting to devour you. 

“Jesus, Sohyun…” Xinyu breathed out, clearly appreciating the view as much as you were. 

“You have to wait your turn. It’s his night, remember?”

Xinyu nodded weakly, her grasp tightening around your cock and causing you to let out a pleased whimper. As you watched Sohyun grab the bottle of lube off of the dresser and begin to lather the dildo in preparation of what was to come, you couldn’t help but think of how you had gotten to this moment. 

Not this moment specifically, sandwiched between two beauties with your cock out and a third beauty on the way. But rather how you became their baby boy as Xinyu had put it. 

It started with Nakyoung. Before you had been involved with their group, you were merely a freelance repair man. In this day and age it was startling how many people didn’t know basic fixes for their tech, but it paid the bills so you weren’t one to complain. Nakyoung had been one of your customers, a regular one at that. You didn’t question it really. At first you had just assumed she was bad with tech. And even if she was a cute girl getting up to no good, well, that wasn’t any of your business.

Apparently it was that exact attitude that had proven you were trustworthy. It wasn’t long before Nakyoung came to you with a job. Then another. Soon after you met the rest of the gang – not that they referred to themselves as such. Eventually, you had become their full-time support, even learning how to tune their motorcycles to peak performance. 

Was it illegal? A lot of it was, sure. But that hardly mattered. You felt safe and accepted with them. More than you ever had anywhere else.

Even now, as you watched Sohyun prepare herself for you, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

“Nakyoung, why don’t you warm him up,” Sohyun said. 

“Wasn’t I doing that already?” Xinyu asked.

“That was just the start,” Nakyoung quiped as she shifted back onto the bed. Her comforting gaze turned into a sultry look as she spread her legs for you. “It’s all yours.”

“You’re going to fuck her good, aren’t you?” Xinyu whispered, nibbling on your earlobe as she guided your cock towards Nakyoung’s entrance.

The sight of Nakyoung, looking at you with her large eyes and beckoning you forward struck a chord. Despite their repeated comments about this being your night, you felt a deep desire to bring her pleasure. 

Her hand found yours, interlacing your fingers as you began to sink into her, Xinyu’s hands on your hips guiding you deeper and deeper. You tried to resist the shudder that ran through your body at the feeling of Nakyoung’s walls around you but to no avail. And how could you when she was taking you inch by inch with an angelic look on her features. 

“She feels good doesn’t she?” 

Xinyu’s question came as her touch lingered on your hips. 

“Mhm,” was all you could manage in response along with a weak nod. 

“So tight and perfect,” her hand stroked your hair. “And all yours.” 

“Fuck…”

Nakyoung sighed as you bottomed out inside of her, filling her to the brim. Her legs moved around your waist, locking you in position as merely held each other for a long moment. 

You knew what was coming. What was waiting for you once Sohyun finally got her hands on you. But for now you would focus on this. On Nakyoung’s pleasure and Xinyu’s guidance. 

“Does it feel good?” you croaked out. 

“So fucking good, baby,” Nakyoung moaned, her bangs splayed across her forehead as her head fell back. “So full.” 

You felt Xinyu’s hand pressing against your lower back and took that as your cue to move. It was slow at first, tentatively drawing yourself out before stuffing her again. You weren’t necessarily inexperienced but it was safe to say that domination didn’t come naturally to you. And yet, this feeling – biting your bottom lip as Nakyoung’s nails dug into your forearm – was addicting. 

They might’ve joked about you getting an ego from this but now you were starting to see why. Having this sight at your fingertips was enough to make any man addicted.

“More,” Nakyoung whined, her fingers dipping between her thighs to tease her clit. “Faster.”

You felt your hesitation steadily slipping away with each thrust, as your hips snapped faster. Eliciting delightful moans of pleasure from Nakyoung. It helped that you hand Xinyu nibbling on your earlobe, continuing to whisper sinful encouragement in your ear.

“Keep fucking her just like that baby,” Xinyu said, “Our little pillow princess making you do  all the work.” 

Your eyes focused on Nakyoung, her short hair splayed against the bed as she took every inch of you with short gasps. You couldn’t say Xinyu was wrong. She looked every bit the princess right now. But was that really such a bad thing?

Xinyu continued. “I’m going to make you feel even better.”

“W-what do you mean?”

You felt Xinyu press a kiss to your nape, then another against your shoulders and back. Your neck craned slightly to try and look over your shoulder, prompting a response from the woman beneath you. Nakyoung reached up, resting on one elbow as she turned your face to look at her. 

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude not to focus on the girl your dick is in?” 

Your cheeks flushed at being called out. “S-sorry.”

To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. 

There were two women drawing your attention in different ways and a third who hadn’t joined the party yet. And that was without getting into the ways Nakyoung’s walls were squeezing your cock each time you pushed into her, as if begging you to empty your load inside of her.

“Don’t worry about her,” Nakyoung insisted.

Which was hard to do when you felt Xinyu place another kiss, this time at the small of your back. Before you could question it any further, you felt something moist tickling your backdoor. 

“Oh!” that was interesting, “Oh, fuck…” Your hips jerked involuntarily as you hunched over slightly. 

“I think he likes it, Xinyu,” Nakyoung moaned. 

Xinyu didn’t respond with words but rather with actions. Her tongue circled around your hole and your toes curled in response.  

Xinyu’s tongue pressed against you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each flick sending jolts of electricity up your spine. You gasped, your hips stuttering as you tried to maintain your pace with Nakyoung, but the dual sensations were overwhelming. Nakyoung’s walls clenched around you, her breath hitching as she felt you twitch inside her.

“Fuck, baby,” Nakyoung moaned, her voice trembling. “You’re getting so hard.” 

Her nails dug into your shoulders, urging you to keep going even as your focus wavered. Xinyu’s tongue was relentless, teasing and probing, making it impossible to think straight. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts, and your hands gripped the sheets for stability.

“That’s it,” Xinyu murmured against your skin, her voice low and sultry. “Just relax, baby boy. Let me take care of you.” 

Her tongue dipped back inside, and you let out a strangled groan, your hips jerking forward into Nakyoung again. Nakyoung giggled. 

“God, you’re so sensitive,” Nakyoung teased, her fingers trailing down your chest. “How does Xinyu’s tongue feel, baby? Do you like what she’s doing to you? She’s getting you nice and ready for Sohyun, isn’t she?”

You shuddered, your hips stuttering as Xinyu’s tongue pressed deeper, more insistently. “Y-yes,” you managed to gasp, your voice trembling. “It feels… so good…”

Xinyu’s tongue circled your rim with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each flick sending jolts of electricity up your spine. Her hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as she worked you open with a practiced ease. You could feel the tension building in your lower belly, a coil threatening to snap, as your body responded to her every touch.

You felt her hand slide beneath you, her fingers gently nassaging your balls. The dual sensation was overwhelming—her tongue teasing your rim while her fingers applied just the right amount of pressure, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You groaned, your hips twitching involuntarily, and Nakyoung let out a breathy laugh.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves,” she said, her legs tightening around your waist as you continued to stretch her out. Her walls clenched around you, warm and wet, as if urging you deeper. “You feel so good inside me, baby. But I think Xinyu’s the one really making you lose it, huh?”

You couldn’t argue. Xinyu’s tongue was relentless, her fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. Every flick, every press, every gentle squeeze sent you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, and your fingers dug into Nakyoung’s hips as you tried to keep your rhythm.

“You’re doing so good,” Nakyoung whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “But I think… I think you’re ready for more, aren’t you?”

You barely had time to process her words before you felt Xinyu pull away, leaving you achingly empty. You groaned at the loss, but before you could protest, you heard the soft click of a bottle cap and the slick sound of lube being applied. Your heart raced as you realized what was coming next.

“Stay just like that.”

Sohyun’s voice cut through the haze, as she moved across the room. 

You froze, your hips still buried deep inside Nakyoung, her warmth enveloping you. Xinyu’s hands were on your hips again, steadying you as Sohyun moved behind you. You could feel the heat of her body as she pressed close, her breath warm against your back.

“You’ve been so good for us,” Sohyun murmured, “But now it’s my turn to reward you.”

Nakyoung’s hands slid up your chest, her touch soothing as she whispered, “Take deep breaths.” 

You nodded, your throat too dry to speak. Sohyun’s hands gripped your hips, her fingers digging into your skin as she positioned herself. The weight of her presence behind you was overwhelming, and you could feel the cool tip of the strap-on pressing against your entrance.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice teasing.

You swallowed hard and nodded again. “Y-yes.”

Sohyun smirked, her hand gripping the base of the strap-on as she applied pressure. “Good boy.”

The first press was slow, deliberate, and you tensed instinctively. But Sohyun’s hands were firm, holding you in place as she leaned over you, her breath hot against your ear. 

“Relax,” she said. “I’ve got you.”

You forced yourself to breathe, to let the tension seep out of your muscles. And then, with a slow, steady push, she was inside you. The stretch was intense, but the way she filled you sent a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You moaned, your head falling forward as she bottomed out, your hips pressed flush against Nakyoung’s.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching at Nakyoung’s shoulders. “Sohyun…”

She leaned over you, her chest pressing against your back as she whispered, “Sssh, you’re doing so well.” 

Her voice was soft, almost tender, a stark contrast to the commanding tone she’d used earlier. Her breath was warm against your ear, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You could feel her weight against you, the heat of her skin, the way her body molded to yours. It was grounding, comforting even, as you adjusted to the fullness of her inside you.

A beat passed, and you felt yourself starting to relax, the initial intensity giving way to a deeper, more insistent pleasure. Sohyun’s hands smoothed over your hips, her touch firm but gentle. 

“I’m going to move now,” she murmured, “Just keep breathing for me, baby boy.”

Her hips pulled back slowly, dragging a whimper from your lips, before she thrust forward again, deeper this time. The sensation of being filled from both ends was overwhelming, and you could feel Nakyoung’s walls clenching around you in response.

“Oh god,” Nakyoung moaned, her nails digging into your arms. “You feel so good… both of you…”

Xinyu’s hands were on your back now, her touch light and teasing as she watched the scene unfold. “Look at him,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “Taking it like a champ.”

Sohyun’s pace quickened, her thrusts becoming more deliberate, more demanding. Each movement sent shockwaves through your body, and you could feel yourself losing control, your hips moving in time with hers. Nakyoung’s moans grew louder, her legs tightening around your waist as she urged you deeper.

“That’s right,” Sohyun growled, her hands gripping your hips tighter. “He loves Mommy’s strap.”

Sohyun’s thrusts were relentless, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was a kind of pleasure you hadn’t known you could feel, let alone crave. The stretch, the fullness, the way she dominated you—it was overwhelming in the best way. You were completely at her mercy, and you loved it.

Nakyoung’s walls clenched around you, her body trembling as she neared her own peak. “Fuck, baby,” she gasped, her nails digging into your shoulders. “You feel so good… so deep…”

To the side, Xinyu had settled onto the edge of the bed, her legs spread as she touched herself. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, her eyes locked on the scene before her. 

“Look at him,” she gasped, “Isn’t he perfect?”

Sohyun’s hands tightened on your hips, her thrusts growing harder, deeper. 

“He is,” she agreed, her voice rough with desire. “Our perfect little toy. Aren’t you, baby?”

You could only nod, your voice lost in a moan as Sohyun���s strap-on brushed against that spot inside you again. Your hips jerked involuntarily, and Nakyoung let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours.

“Two cocks, and I’m stuck with my hand,” Xinyu pouted, her fingers moving faster, her breath hitching as she teased herself. Her eyes flicked to you, a playful glint in them as she bit her lip. “Not fair, is it?”

Nakyoung let out a breathy laugh, her hips rolling against yours as she tightened around you. “Maybe you should try taking two next time,” she teased, her grin wicked. “See how well you handle it.”

The image popped into your mind, vivid and intoxicating: Xinyu, her body arched and trembling, stretched to her limit as she took two cocks at once. One of them could be yours—the thought alone sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could almost hear her gasps, see the way her nails would dig into the sheets, the way her lips would part in a silent scream as she was filled completely. The fantasy was so vivid, so real, that it ripped a moan from your throat, your cock swelling inside Nakyoung as your hips jerked involuntarily.

“Oh?” Xinyu’s voice was a purr, her fingers slowing as she caught the way your body reacted. “Someone likes that idea, don’t they?” She tilted her head, her smirk growing wider as she watched you. “Maybe next time, baby boy, you can be the one to help me out. Think you can handle that?”

You couldn’t respond, your mind too hazy with desire, but the way your cock twitched inside Nakyoung was answer enough.

“You’re distracting him!” Nakyoung’s hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips parted as she panted. “Focus, baby,” she urged. “I’m so close…Fuck, I want to feel you…all of you…”

Not to be forgotten, you felt Sohyun press deep into you.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” she growled, her thrusts never slowing. “You’re going to fill Nakyoung up like a good boy. Show Mommy how much you love her cock.”

The combination of their voices, their touches, their demands—it was too much. Your hips stuttered, your rhythm faltering as pleasure overtook you. With a cry, you came, your body trembling as you spilled yourself inside Nakyoung. She cried out, her own climax crashing over her as she held you close.

Sohyun didn’t stop, her movements slowing but still relentless as she rode out your high. 

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice soft now, almost tender. “So good for us.”

Xinyu let out a breathless sob, her fingers pulled from her own snatch and coated in her juices. “That was beautiful.”

Sohyun’s hands slid up your back, her touch gentle now as she leaned over you. “You did so well,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Her movements came to a slow stop, her body still pressed against yours as she held you close. “You worked so hard for this reward, baby boy. I’m proud of you.”

Her voice was soft, almost reverent, as she smoothed her hands over your skin, her touch soothing and grounding. “You took everything so perfectly,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “Our good boy. Our perfect boy.”

“Fuck…”

You whimpered in response, your body still shaking from the aftershocks. Beneath you, Nakyoung seemed to be in a similar state of exhaustion. But even as that exhaustion threatened to pull you under, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A few weeks later…

“Look at you, taking his cock so well, aren’t you?”

Sohyun’s voice was low and commanding, her hand resting lightly on Xinyu’s throat as she guided her movements. Xinyu was seated atop her, Sohyun’s strap buried deep in her ass, while you stood in front, filling her from the other side. Xinyu’s head was tilted back, her lips parted in a breathless moan as she took you both, her body trembling with the effort.

You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight—Xinyu, usually so playful and teasing, now completely at the mercy of Sohyun’s control and your rhythm. Her nails dug into Sohyun’s thighs as she rocked back and forth, her breath hitching every time you thrust into her. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, of gasps and whispered praises, and you felt a surge of pride knowing you were a part of this.

You couldn’t help but reflect on how that night had changed everything. 

Before, you had been the hacker, the mechanic, the one who kept their bikes running and their operations smooth. But now? Now you were something far more undefined, something deeper. You were theirs—not just a tool, but a part of their world in a way you hadn’t imagined possible.

And it wasn’t just your role in the gang that had shifted. In the bedroom, you had grown in confidence, learning to read their cues, to take control when they wanted you to, and to surrender when they demanded it. It was a dance, one you were still learning, but every moment with them felt like a step closer to mastering it.

“That’s it,” Sohyun murmured, her hand tightening slightly on Xinyu’s throat. “Take him just like that. Such a good girl for us.”

Xinyu’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours as she moaned. “Fuck, baby,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “You feel so good… so deep…”

Her words sent a tingle down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smirk, your confidence growing with every thrust. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your hands gripping her hips as you guided her movements.

Sohyun let out a low laugh, her free hand sliding up Xinyu’s side. “Look at him,” she said, her tone dripping with approval. “Our little hacker, all grown up.”

The praise sent a rush of warmth through you, and you couldn’t help but lean into it, your thrusts growing more deliberate, more confident. Xinyu’s moans grew louder, her body tightening around you as she approached her climax..

“That’s it,” Sohyun encouraged, her voice a low purr. “Make her come for us, baby boy. Show her what you’ve learned.”

Sohyun didn’t need to tell you twice.

Your movements became harder, rougher, as you aimed to drive Xinyu toward her release. You had quickly learned that Xinyu, for all her teasing and bravado, was every bit the princess of the gang that she accused Nakyoung of being. Sure, she could be an active participant when she wanted to, but there was something about the way she melted under your touch, the way she begged and gasped, that made it clear she loved being taken care of just as much as she loved taking control.

“Look at her,” Sohyun purred, her hand still resting on Xinyu’s throat, her thumb brushing lightly against her pulse. “So greedy, isn’t she? Couldn’t even wait for Nakyoung to join us.”

You found Sohyun’s words amusing, a smirk tugging at your lips.

In the weeks since that first night, none of the three women had seemed keen on sharing you with anyone else in the gang. It was always the four of you, a closed circle of trust and desire. You weren’t complaining—far from it. But it was hard not to notice the way they kept you to themselves, as if you were their little secret.

There had been a moment, not long after that first night, when Nien and Yubin had approached you with flirtatious smiles and suggestive comments. You’d been flattered, of course, but before you could even respond, Sohyun had appeared out of nowhere, quickly causing the other girls to scatter.

“Fuck!”

Xinyu’s moans grew louder, breaking you from your thoughts. Her voice was more desperate, her body trembling as she neared her peak. 

“Please, daddy,” she gasped, her nails digging into Sohyun’s thighs. “Finish inside me…make me come…I need it, daddy, please…”

Her use of the word sent a jolt of heat through you, and you obliged, your thrusts growing faster, more urgent. 

“You love this, don’t you?” you egged her on, your own release teetering on the edge, “Taking me and Sohyun at the same time, stuffed full like the hungry little cock slut you are. You’re so good for us, baby. Come on, come for us. Let go.”

You could feel her tightening around you, her body on the edge, and with one final, deep thrust, you pushed her over. Xinyu cried out, her back arching as she came, her walls clenching around you in waves of pleasure. The sensation was too much, and with a groan, you followed her over the edge, spilling yourself inside her as your hips stuttered against hers.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of ragged breaths and the occasional shuddering gasp. Sohyun’s hand slid from Xinyu’s throat to her shoulder, her touch gentler. 

“Good girl,” she murmured,“You did so well.”

Xinyu could only nod weakly, her body still trembling as she leaned back against Sohyun, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

And then, as if on cue, the door swung open. Nakyoung stood in the doorway, a pizza box in one hand and her mouth half-open mid-sentence. 

“I hope you like pepperoni—” she started, before her words caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: Xinyu still straddling Sohyun’s strap-on, your cock slowly slipping out of her as she caught her breath, and the general state of disarray that suggested exactly what had just happened.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Nakyoung’s voice cut through the room, sharp and incredulous.

“You started without me?!”

Sohyun let out a low chuckle, her hand still resting on Xinyu’s shoulder as she shot Nakyoung a tired but amused smile. 

“She couldn’t wait,” Sohyun said, her tone dry but playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your own smile mirroring Sohyun’s as you leaned back, catching your breath. Xinyu, still half-delirious from her climax, tilted her head toward Nakyoung and gave a lazy wave. 

“Hey, Naky~” she slurred, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Nakyoung sighed, shaking her head as she set the pizza box down on a nearby table. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched as if she were fighting a smile. “I leave for twenty minutes…”

As you watched the three of them—Sohyun’s calm amusement, Xinyu’s blissed-out grin, and Nakyoung’s mock exasperation—you couldn’t help but think that this life, chaotic and unpredictable as it was, wasn’t so bad at all.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus 😏

combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw 🫶

1000 secret kisses | R.B.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinking

1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist

Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,” Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.

“Truth,” Barty replied.

“What's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?” Dorcas challenged, and everyone ooooh’d.

Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, then—“I would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,” Barty said through a cloud of smoke.

“No way, look at him!” Pandora argued. “He fucks, guarantee it.”

The groups heads swiveled to Regulus, who was reclined lazily in arm chair, knees spread, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He looked supremely fuckable to you, like he always did.

That's why you've been secret friends with benefits for most of the school year.

You and Regulus were an unlikely pair; Reg, a certified grouch with a distaste for socializing, and you, a gifted student and natural flirt. But you found him fascinating, deeply intelligent and perceptive, with an artistic heart, even if he preferred not to show it. And he found you endearing, infectious in your enthusiasm.

You'd kissed him after a drunken night in Hogsmeade, and he'd sought you out the following day in the library. Now, you snuck away every chance you got, stealing secret moments around every corner, in every classroom, praying your friends never discovered the truth, lest you never hear the end of it.

This was just for the two of you, and you preferred it that way.

“I'm not saying he isn't sexy!” Barty argued. “I'm saying he couldn't be bothered to fuck someone, too busy reading poetry and glaring.”

“And you expect me to, what? Fuck everything with legs like you, Junior?” Regulus bit back.

“No, but like—I’ve never even seen you glance at someone,” Evan chimed in. “You've never talked about fancying someone, or gotten flustered.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

“Nothing shakes him, and he'd never tell you half-wits if he fancied someone because you can't keep your mouths shut,” Xeno laughed.

“It's not like it's anyone's business anyways,” you added, stealing the joint from Barty and taking a puff. “It's his business who he does, or doesn't, fuck.”

“Oh, come off it. He hasn't even had a crush on you, and we've all had a crush on you,” Barty said.

You nearly choked on your hit. “You're full of shit, Junior.”

“It's true! We talked about it the other day!”

You risked a glance at Regulus while you fanned the smoke from around your face, and found him glaring down at his lap, his expression was calm, but you'd long ago learned to judge his true feelings by his pale eyes. And right now, the hostility in them could raze the castle.

That must have been the day he abruptly dragged you from your dorm and into an empty classroom. He toyed with you until you cried, begging him to get you off. And when he finally let you ride him, you weren't allowed to come until you told him exactly who you belonged to. Making you spell out his entire name, letter by letter, thrust by thrust.

Regulus Arcturus Black.

Your pussy shivered just thinking about it.

“Can we get on with the game, please?” Pandora huffed. “It's y/n’s turn.”

Barry grinned over at you, and you groaned. Why on Salazar's shitty earth did you think it was a good idea to sit next to him?

“Truth, dare, or shot, my darling?” Barty asked, his voice a seductive purr.

You really didn't want to take a shot of that lukewarm swill, and you had a hunch of what Barty's question would be: do you fancy any of us? Leaving you with one option.

“Dare.”

Barty’s eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. “You've made a grave error, my dearest y/n.”

“Don't be an ass, Crouch. Play fair,” Regulus warned, the edge of his voice sharper than was probably necessary.

“Oh, you'll like this Reggie, don't worry.” Barty presented his palms to you, like he was offering a gift. “Treasure, I dare you to make Regulus blush.”

“That's not fair!” Pandora argued. “How is she supposed to do that?”

“By any means necessary.” Barty grinned.

You looked at Regulus, who was already looking at you. “I don't want to cross any lines—”

“And when she fails?” Regulus asked, a hint of a smirk on his pretty mouth. Baiting you.

“Then she takes two shots,” Barty wagered.

You looked back and forth between them, all eyes on you. “Deal,” you said, pushing to your feet.

Regulus' eyes widened a fraction, like he didn't expect you to actually go for it, but he vastly underestimated your pettiness. And you would love nothing more than to be the thing that made Regulus finally crack in front of his friends. A tiny consultation for months of keeping secrets.

You sashayed over to him, ignoring the whistles and shouts from your friends, focused entirely on Regulus' smug face. His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the edge of your skirt, the sway of your hips, and you caught the unmistakable sign of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and his arrogant expression faltered.

Already, you were making him sweat.

You knew none of your regular tricks would work on him, he was impervious to flirting, but you had an ace up your sleeve.

Carefully, you perched on the arm of his chair, being mindful to not actually touch him, knowing it would bother him to have you so close without being able to touch. He shifted a little in his seat, a fraction closer to you, fingers tightening on his cigarette.

You took a pull from the joint, filling your lungs with its acrid burn. You looked at Regulus expectantly, and he smirked before tilting his head back for you. You leaned in and he parted his lips, letting you blow the smoke into his mouth.

Your friends continued to whoop and cheer, but you focused on Regulus' proximity, the hazy feeling coarsing through your blood.

Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

Instead, when the last of the smoke left your lungs and entered his, you shifted to whisper in his ear. “Took that hit so well, sweet boy,” you purred, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.

You felt his body hitch, wanting to cough up the smoke, but he managed to blow it out of the corner of his mouth, casting you vicious side eye. To your delight, you noticed a delicate pink stain was crawling up his neck, warming the tops of his cheekbones.

“She did it!” Evan cheered, and the rest of the group roared in approval.

“Brat,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You knew you'd be paying for it later, but it was so worth it to know you had an affect on him no one else did.

You sauntered back over to your seat, smiling ear to ear and basking in the groups praise.

Regulus tried to play it off, but there was no going back now. And you knew he was in trouble when it was finally his turn.

“Alright, Reggie,” Pandora said. “Truth, dare, or shot.”

You already knew what he would pick: Reg hated booze, and would rather run around the common room naked than fess up to something.

“Dare,” he said, taking a bold glance at you.

Pandora caught it, of course, and a tendril of uncertainty coiled in your stomach.

“I dare you to make y/n blush back.”

Regulus huffed a low laugh. “Come on, Dora. Give me a challenge.”

You glared at him, and he winked back. Maybe it was the weed, or his competitive nature, but you'd never seen him so brazen.

Everyone ooooh’d.

“Fine, I dare you to kiss one person in the circle!”

Your heart sunk. Even if it was platonic, a stupid dare, you didn't particularly want to see Regulus kiss someone else. Your feelings for Regulus has grown over the course of the your secret relationship, and while neither of you were ready for labels, that didn't mean you wanted to share him, or vice versa if the night in the classroom was any indication.

Regulus narrowed his eyes at her. “Not everyone consents to being kissed by me.”

“I consent!” They all chorused, and you inwardly groaned.

“What? You've never fucked and you've never kissed someone?” Barty teased, ramping up the pressure.

“Fuck off, Crouch,” Regulus hissed. The game was getting to him, and your friends were feasting on his rare display of discomfort.

You'd feel bad for him if you weren't feeling so sorry for yourself. Reg would probably kiss Barty just to shut him up, and then storm off to bed. Leaving you to decipher his words and actions like every night spent without him there to prove his affection with his hands and mouth.

Shit, maybe this arrangement had gotten more out of control than you realized.

“How the fuck is Sirius such a lady-killer, and his little brother is the virgin fuckin’ Mary?” Barty was too busy laughing at his own jokes to notice Regulus get up and prowl across the circle towards him.

Barty finally noticed when Reg was almost on top of him, but at the last second, Regulus pivoted. His hand shot out to grab you by the hair, roughly tilting your head back for the bruising kiss he planted on your unsuspecting lips.

You squeaked in surprise, but quickly gave way for him, melting under his firm, insistent mouth as his tongue delved between your teeth to taste you.

As quickly as he swept in, he was gone, leaving you wide eyed and breathless as he stalked back to his seat and dropped into it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What was it you said? ‘Y/n has the most gorgeous mouth you'd ever seen’?” Regulus said, a mocking edge in his voice. “That you'd ‘give anything to taste her'?”

Barty gaped like a fish.

Regulus smirked. “I’ll have that left bollock now. And I'll take the other one if I hear my girl’s name on your mouth again, you prick.”

Everyone gasped, including you, but Regulus didn't even flinch.

“Understood?” He glared at Barty, then the others, until each one of them lowered their eyes in submission.

Regulus beckoned you forward with two fingers and you jumped up, crossing the space between you and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, little more than a peck, but it still made your head spin.

“So, secrets out?” You asked, meeting his eyes.

Regulus shrugged, pecking your cheek. “It doesn't change anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’m yours.” He kissed your nose, your temple, your lips, down your neck, until all of your friends dispersed, making disgusted noises as they fled such a public display of affection.

But you couldn't be happier, grinning like a fool as you basked in a thousand not-so-secret kisses.

[indexthejester]

01: meh I think. Getting better I suppose.

02: My friend, we say it when ending calls

03: far too much. Sometimes it hits me like a bullet to the chest. Feels like the metal ball in my brain pinballs into a bumper that gives negative points.

04: no definitely not <- she lied

05: single and looking for friends which may turn into queerplatonic relations. Not that I'm crossing my fingers.

06: slowly and calmly enough to analyze the way it feels to die, but not too peacefully that it's otherwise uninteresting.

07: Zaxby's chicken strips

08: tried a few. Not my thing. Except tennis, I liked that one. Not sure if snowboarding counts but I like that too.

09: Yes I do it sucks.

10: never had one, unless wrestling counts

11: I like many people. I love them too. I suppose I have a crush on people that I relate too, especially if I find them interesting. I want to know every part of them intimately. To drink it all in.

12: yes

13: I don't think so, I try not to. I don't think it's very useful for solving my or the world's problems, and it makes me feel pretty miserable in the process.

14: probably somewhat, I'm pretty lonely most of the time so yeah almost always. I work and live better when I'm with someone I like. Whether talking or just present in the same "space".

15: 2 family dogs, one day I'll move out and get a cat probably. Cats are great.

16: chill, minus the usual slight heartburn. Just got our of the shower and am lying in bed, getting messages from a new friend, living well.

17: no, very out of left field question

18: not really. I find them interesting though. They either look like insects or weirdly mammalian despite being neither. Weird that scorpions are more closely related.

19: nah there's nothing for me back there.

20: god I wish

21: talk to a friend and life planning

22: no, I mean I'm good with them and it's very fulfilling I just find it stressful. Right now I have so much I want to do I can't see myself adopting and settling down but maybe idk.

23: 2 for earrings

24: Math and English I suppose. Programming too if college counts

25: Maybe. Not at the moment. In recent past, it was fun to hang out at the lgbtq center in college. Sucks that I'm stuck at home now.

26: more social interaction. I may be anxious about how I reply or generally talk through textual messaging, but it makes me feel all comfy inside :3 also sleep because it is 2:36am for me rn.

27: idk

28: no

29: never had one

30: eye strain and heart burn and social anxiety.

31: I think so. I don't think it's for me to say, I try to love myself at least, though it's really hard.

32: magenta, or some other combo of purple and red. Hence the Melantha pfp. Also she's autistic.

33: yes, very much so

34: can't remember. The last one I remember was very sexual which is unusual for me.

35: cried on a call with a friend of mine I think. Just scared of the state the world's in.

36: I don't know, I don't know if I've had to

37: depends on the person I guess. Sometimes you can't do either. Just gotta learn to live with what happened.

38: So far absolutely not. But in the past 4 days I've had a lot of fun being alive. It is fun to make new friends and connect with people and have fun.

39: excluding my parents it hasn't happened

40: yes

51: chicken alphredo and chicken cordon bleu

52: I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in causality, to an extent.

53: brush my teeth I think. Maybe watch a youtube video or masterbate, though I usually do the latter as I'm falling asleep so I'm not sure if it counts.

54: I'm sure you could invent some crazy scenario where it is, but in general I think betraying your partner's trust is just about the worst thing you can do in a relationship.

55: I try not to be.

56: 0

57: when I am vulnerable and comfortable, I am filled to bursting with love for the world and everything in it. So if "true" means "pure unfiltered" then maybe yeah. Me x The Universe. Me x All My Friends.

58: bright but not too bright, grey skies, no visavle sun, chill in the air. Can move around without sweating buckets.

59: YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS

60: very much so someday. Already planning it out.

61: never had it happen to me though it seems pretty boring standard. Call me your owner, handler, mad scientist, something interesting.

62: a loving community and the ability to freely create art

63: yeah obviously

64: yeah I'm too old for that it's weird

65: what are we role-playing now? I don't know, depends on the context. (Treating "sex" as "gender" for these questions btw.)

66: no, I don't. I wouldn't call any of my friends men.

67: My father but I honestly wonder if he's not a little trans

68: like a really deep conversation? Uhh definitely @thatweirdyellowrat. Haven't felt that much mental clarity after a conversation in a long time. I would not be as happy or geared to make new friends if not for that.

69: Fuck no.

70: I think so yeah, more than one actually. Which is saying something because I value my life a lot.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?