#but I hate eyelash lace

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥

　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 & 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N acts like a brat during a night out and Matt and Chris have to put her in her place.

WARNING: SMUT ‼️ Threesome, double penetration (p in v & p in a), degradation kink, praising kink, overstimulation, use of vibrator.

REQUESTED?: Kinda.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I'm feeling a love/hate thing for this one (I always hate all smut that I write lol), but I hope yall like it because I spent 5 hours writing it 🫣

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The restaurant was buzzing with activity, the clinking of cutlery against plates, soft chatter filling the air, and the occasional laugh from a neighboring table. The warm ambiance was perfect for an evening out, but for Y/N, the night held a particular thrill. She sat between Chris and Matt, with Nick across from her, and she felt a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. The excitement of testing boundaries and seeing how far she could push them sent some euphoric through her.

Chris was speaking to her, his tone laced with something she couldn't quite decipher, but she chose to focus on the waiter who had just approached their table. He was tall with a charming smile, and Y/N made sure to bat her eyelashes at him as he took their drink orders. The way his eyes lingered on her just a little too long gave her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.

"I’ll have a glass of Merlot, please." She said, her voice dripping with sweetness, her eyes locked on the waiter’s.

Chris stopped talking abruptly, exchanging a look with Matt, their jaws tightening simultaneously. The tension was almost palpable, an electric charge that made the air between them sizzle. Nick, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, stifled a laugh and kept his gaze on the menu, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Merlot for the lady, and for the gentlemen?" The waiter asked, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing at the table.

"I’ll have a Pepsi." Chris said curtly, his eyes never leaving Y/N's side profile, a warning simmering just beneath the surface.

"And a root beer." Matt added, his tone equally clipped, his posture rigid.

Nick ordered a Dr. Pepper, and as the waiter left, Y/N felt Chris’s hand press on her thigh under the table, his grip firm and unyielding. She ignored it and her own need to put her hand above his, turning to Nick with a bright smile, the picture of innocence.

"Nick, what do you recommend here?" She asked, her voice light and playful, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her still empty glass, her red tinted nails glowing below the dimly lights.

Nick smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing, shaking his head slightly.

"The steak with pasta is pretty good." He replied, glancing at his brothers who were fuming silently, their expressions dark and brooding.

Throughout dinner, Y/N continued her little game. She giggled at the waiter’s jokes, asked for extra attention when ordering, and seemed oblivious to Chris and Matt’s increasingly dark expressions. Every time Chris or Matt tried to engage her in conversation, she would give a noncommittal answer, turning her attention back to Nick or the waiter. The thrill of rebellion coursed through her veins, making her heart race with excitement.

"Babe, do you want to share a dessert?" Chris asked, his voice strained with suppressed frustration, his patience wearing thin.

She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed on Nick, smiling widely to him.

"Nick, do you think the cheesecake here is good?" She asked, her voice light and teasing, her fingers holding the menu lightly.

Nick’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but he kept his answer short, not daring to look at his brothers again.

"Yeah, it’s not bad." He muttered, pressing his lips into a thin line, lowering his gaze to his phone to hide his grin.

Chris’s hand tightened on her thigh, his fingers digging in almost painfully, his short nails bruising her soft skin. Y/N bit her red bottom lip to keep from gasping, but she refused to give in. She could feel Matt’s gaze burning into her from the other side, his posture tense and coiled like a spring ready to snap.

When the waiter returned with the dessert menu, Y/N leaned in slightly, resting her elbows on the wooden table, her smile flirtatious and inviting.

"What do you recommend?" She asked, her voice soft and seductive, her pearly teeth caging her bottom lip in a light grip.

The waiter, clearly enjoying the attention, suggested a few options, and Y/N nodded, pretending to deliberate. She could feel the tension radiating from Chris and Matt, and it only fueled her brattiness, the need to push them further, simmering just beneath the surface.

"I think I’ll go with the chocolate lava cake. Please." She finally said, handing the menu back with a dazzling smile, winking at the waiter as he walked away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Chris’s grip on her thigh moved higher, dangerously close to her clothed pussy, pushing the hem of her mini skirt up slightly. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"You’re going to regret this, Y/N." He whispered, his voice a low, menacing growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Matt’s hand joined Chris’s, sliding up her other thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her inner area.

"You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart." He murmured, his tone deceptively calm, his lips brushing against her hair.

Y/N shivered at their touch, her resolve wavering slightly, but she managed to maintain her composure. The thrill of their possessiveness, their dominance, was intoxicating, but she couldn’t back down now. She turned to Nick, ignoring the hands on her thighs and their figures to close to her own.

"So, Nick, how was your day?" She asked, her voice light and casual, as if she wasn’t sitting on the edge of a storm.

Nick, barely holding back his laughter, played along.

"Pretty good. Edited some videos and posted a TikTok. The usual." He replied, shrugging, his eyes flicking to his brothers’ tense faces.

Chris and Matt were silent, their hands still, but the promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air. Y/N knew she had pushed them to their limit, and a thrill of anticipation ran through her.

The rest of the meal passed in a tense silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words and barely restrained anger. Y/N continued to flirt with the waiter, though less overtly, and Chris and Matt barely spoke, their anger simmering just below the surface. Nick continued to observe, his amusement growing as the night went on, the situation becoming more and more absurd to him.

When the check came, Chris snatched it up, taking his black card out of his Prada wallet, glaring at Y/N as he paid for it all.

"Let’s go." He said tersely, standing and offering her his hand, his eyes hard with unspoken promises.

Y/N took it, her pulse quickening at the dark look in his eyes. Matt followed closely behind, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the restaurant with a firm touch. Nick brought up the rear, shaking his head with a grin, the whole situation a source of endless entertainment for him.

The ride home was silent, the tension palpable. Y/N could feel Chris and Matt’s anger, their possessiveness, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she was in for it, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. Every minute in the car felt like an eternity, the silence pressing down on her, the weight of their anger and desire almost tangible, causing her to clench her thighs together repeatedly, endlessly searching for some friction.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Chris turned to her, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something darker, something that made her pulse race.

"Bedroom. Now." He ordered, his voice brooking no argument, his gaze intense and unwavering.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart racing as she made her way downstairs to Chris’s room. Chris and Matt followed, their footsteps heavy with purpose, each step sending a thrill of anticipation through her.

In the bedroom, Chris closed the door behind them with a soft click, his eyes never leaving Y/N, who was now standing in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her body which maintained an upright position, waiting for some command. The intensity of his gaze made her knees weak, the anticipation almost unbearable. Matt crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, his gaze equally intense, his posture a perfect picture of controlled tension.

"You think you can act like a brat and get away with it?" Chris demanded, stepping closer to her, his presence overwhelming, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N bit her lip, her defiance faltering under his scrutiny.

"I… I was just having fun." She said, her voice wavering, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

"Fun?" Matt echoed, pushing off the wall and walking towards her as if she was his next prey - in a way, she was -, circling her body with painfully slow steps before stopping next to Chris, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and desire. "You think flirting with another man in front of us is fun?"

Y/N’s breath hitched as she shook her head, her pulse racing, feeling nothing below their gazes.

"I didn’t mean to upset you." She said, her voice small, the thrill of their anger sending shivers down her spine.

Chris’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him, her mouth parting slightly, a shaking breath scaping from it.

"You’re ours, Y/N. Ours to touch, ours to please. And you will learn your place." He said, his voice a low growl, his eyes burning with intensity.

Matt’s hand followed Chris’s, trailing down her arm, the touch of his fingertips against her skin sending sparks of electricity through her skin.

"We’ll make sure you never forget it, dove." He murmured, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze never leaving hers.

Y/N’s knees went weak at their words, the sheer dominance in their tones sending a rush of heat through her. She knew she was in for a long, intense night, and despite her earlier defiance, she couldn’t wait. The promise of their touch, their dominance, was almost too much to bear, and she felt herself melting under their gaze, the anticipation making her pulse race.

Chris’s grip on her chin tightened in a very painful way, his eyes boring into hers.

"Get on the bed." He ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument before letting go of her roughly.

Y/N nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she moved to the bed, her heart racing with anticipation, her legs trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew she had pushed them to their limits, and the thrill of what was to come sent a shiver down her spine.

She settled on the bed, the cool grey sheets a stark contrast to the heat building inside her. Chris and Matt moved with purpose, their eyes dark and filled with intent. There was an air of controlled fury about them, a palpable tension that made her pulse quicken.

Chris approached first, as usual, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt up to her waist, exposing her completely. The cool air of the room sent a chill through her, heightening her awareness of every touch, every sensation.

"You’re going to regret being such a little brat tonight." Chris said, his voice low and menacing, his fingers trailing lightly over her exposed skin. Each touch felt like fire against her skin, making her squirm with a mixture of fear and anticipation. His eyes bore into hers, a dark promise of what was to come.

Matt stood beside him, his eyes fixed on Y/N, his expression a mixture of anger and desire.

"We’re going to remind you who you belong to." He added, his voice equally hoarse.

Chris reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a bright pink vibrator, the sight of it making Y/N’s breath hitch in anticipation, her eyes going from the toy to Chris and back again. His thumb worked on it, and soon, the low hum of the device filled the room, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. He turned it on completely, the vibrations causing a ripple of sensation through her body.

"You’ve been such a bad girl." Chris said, his voice almost a purr, as he lowered her favorite toy, pressing it against her tummy and lowering it slowly until it reaches her clothed pussy, pressing abruptly against her clit, the sudden stimulation making her gasp loudly. "Do you think you deserve to come after the way you behaved?"

Y/N shook her head, her breath coming in short gasps, the intense pleasure already building inside her."

"No, Ch-Chris." She whispered, her voice trembling with need. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, the vibrations sending shockwaves of sensation through her body, making her hips buck involuntarily against the relentless pressure on her clit.

"Good." Chris said, increasing the pressure slightly, making her moan. "You’ll have to earn it." His voice was filled with a dark amusement, his eyes watching her every reaction with a predatory intensity.

Matt moved to the other side of the bed, his hand meeting her soft skin, trailing down her body, his touch sending sparks of electricity through her skin.

"We’re going to take our time with you, sweetheart." He murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You’re not going to come until we say so, yeah? Gonna be the most obedient girl in the world f'us."

The combined sensations of the vibrator and their hands exploring her body drove Y/N wild with need, her hips bucking involuntarily and repeatedly against the relentless pressure on her.

Chris free hand flew to her lace panties, his index finger hooking on one side, pulling it down as he pulled the vibrator away from her clit for just a few seconds. He pushed her panties completely down her legs with Matt's help, finally removing it before pressing the toy back into Y/N's pussy, the sound of the vibrations against her completely wet area now echoing through the room.

A dirty grin spread across Matt's face as he watched Y/N's spine arch upwards at the new sensation that washed over her in waves, his eyes fixed on her every reaction. Chris, also watching her, moved the vibrator slowly downwards, pressing the head of the toy against her still empty and desperate hole, pushing it hard enough for a small part of its head to enter her.

A loud scream escaped her mouth by surprise, her eyes squeezing shut and her legs shaking as they tried to close instinctively, but being forced against the mattress roughly by Matt's hands. The sensation of the vibrations now inside her drove her completely insane, making her dangerously close to her orgasm.

But, as before, every time she got close, Chris would pull the vibrator away, leaving her teetering on the edge, her frustration building with each denial. The denial was exquisite torture, the pleasure building to a fever pitch only to be pulled away, leaving her desperate and trembling with need.

"You look so desperate, honey." Chris said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her writhe on the bed. "Do you want to come, dove?" His words sent a thrill of humiliation through her, the degradation only adding to her arousal.

"Yes, please... I need it s-so bad." She begged, her voice barely more than a whisper, her hips searching for more from the toy. The words felt like a lifeline, a desperate plea for release from the overwhelming sensation.

"Not yet." Matt interrupted, his voice firm, his fingers digging into her thighs, holding her still. "You don’t deserve it yet." His words were a dark promise, his eyes watching her with a mixture of desire and amusement.

Chris leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"You’re going have to be our good little slut tonight." He whispered, his words sending a thrill of humiliation and excitement through her. "You’re going to take everything we give you, and you’re going to love it. And then, we'll think about letting you cum."

Y/N moaned, her body aching with need, the combination of their words and the relentless teasing pushing her to the brink, their words sounding as if she were a mere object and had no say in any of that. She just obeyed. And, contradictorily, she felt powerful, even with all her submission before them.

"Y-yes- Fuck!" She gasped, her voice trembling with anticipation. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, her body trembling with the need for release.

Chris and Matt continued their torment, bringing her to the edge over and over again, only to deny her release each time. The hours seemed to stretch on forever, each wave of pleasure building on the last, leaving her a desperate, trembling mess. The denial was exquisite torture, the pleasure building to a fever pitch only to be pulled away, leaving her desperate and trembling with need.

Finally, when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, they moved in unison, their hands guiding her to her knees, Chris’s hands letting go of the vibrator while Matt's one's took her crop top off, smirking after noticing she wasn't using any bra.

They both removed their own clothes in quick movements before moving around. Matt lay down on the bed, his back against the mattress and his chest exposed to the room. His hands found Y/N's hips again, pulling her to straddle him.

Y/N’s body trembled with anticipation as she settled on top of him, her knees digging the soft surface below them both and on each side of his hips. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his hot breath hitting her cheeks.

Matt's hands worked on positioning her on his rigid dick, forcing her to sit on it with a prolonged moan, the girl feeling the full size of that huge cock inside her. And it was so fucking good. An absurdly wonderful feeling that she couldn't ever get tired of having.

Her attention was caught again when she felt Chris right behind her.

"Relax, dove." He whispered, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "We’re going to take care of you." His fingers trailed down her body, caressing her skin, before forcing her down a little. "Lean in. Support yourself on your hands."

She did as he told, placing her hands on the mattress as if she were trapping Matt in a cage made with her arms. That gave Matt mouth free access to her boobs, and the boy didn't hesitate to swallow one of them and caress the other with one hand, a breathless moan scaping her lips with the feeling. He was always obsessed with her tits.

Y/N soon felt Chris hands spreading her ass cheeks apart, heard the wet noise when he put his fingers in his mouth, and then, pornographically, he took them to her own mouth.

"Lick it, babe. Lick it well, yeah? Like the good girl you want to be so fucking much."

She didn't hesitate and licked it in an extremely obscene way even for her, containing a smile after seeing Matt's big eyes mesmerized by the sight.

Chris didn't wait long to take them to the most hidden orifice of her body, penetrating her with his skillful and now wet fingers, moving in and out of her; preparing her for what would come soon.

Y/N moaned loudly, enjoying the sensation of Chris's big and thick fingers inside her with the ones that came from her hip movements, going up and down on Matt's dick, rolling on top of him, panting and moaning with delight.

"You want to be such a good girl for us, don't you?" Chris murmured, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt the pressure increase.

"Yes, please. I want to be your good girl." She whimpered, her voice trembling with need and anticipation. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching with the need for more.

Chris’s cock finally pressed against her tight entrance, the sensation making her gasp breathlessly. He moved slowly, allowing her body to adjust to the intrusion, the familiar mix of pain and pleasure making her moan louder.

"Ugh- Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh my Go-od!" Y/N moaned loudly, her head lolling forward in ecstasy, her hair falling over Matt's chin and chest, dragging over his skin. Y/N's jaw dropped at the new sensation, the thin wall separating them seemed to absorb both of their movements and take them straight to her swollen clit.

"That’s it, take it all." He growled, his voice filled with dark satisfaction as he pushed deeper.

The stretch was intense, the sensation overwhelming as Chris filled her completely. Y/N’s hands gripped the sheets on Matt's hips side, her body trembling with the effort to relax and take him in. Chris’s hands moved to her hips, painfully grabbing a handfull of her soft skin, holding her steady as he thrust deeper, the pain mingling with pleasure, creating a storm of sensation that left her gasping.

"Look at you, all stretched and ready for us." Chris muttered, his head hanging low as his dark blue eyes observed the way his cock was being swallowed completely by her hole, his voice a low, mocking purr. "Such a good little slut."

Y/N moaned shamelessly, because they were both very good at fucking her and because she had those two huge cocks inside her filling her in just the right way and leaving her breathless, her mouth open in an eternal silent scream, her eyes rolling to her head, her body undulating, rolling on both of their dicks, trying to find the right rhythm, until the three of them were at the same rhythm amidst moans, swearing, insults, "fucks" coming from all sides... Everyone moaning in the same tune.

It must have been a very erotic scene, better than any porn film she had ever watched before. Y/N didn't want it to end, she didn't want it to ever stop. She felt so complete with both of them inside her, so sexy, so wanted...

"You love being our little plaything, don’t you?" Matt muttered below her, his voice filled with excitement and possessiveness.

"Oh, she does. She loves being our good little slut, right dove?" Chris laughed breathlessly, his hands grabbing her ass cheeks with full force, his fingers pressing her skin in a way that he knew the area would be bruised by morning, and he loved the idea of it.

Y/N didn't know how they were still able to speak so coherently, she felt that she had lost the gift of speech, she could only repeat moans in the most pornographic way she had ever done and swear words over and over again.

"Answer me, pretty girl. Or we already fucked you dumb, huh?" Matt asked mockingly, his hands going from playing with her boobs to squeezing her thighs and then back again.

"Ye-es, Matt. I love it so-o much." Y/N gasped, her body reacting instantly, begging silently for more.

The sensation of being filled by both Chris and Matt was unlike anything Y/N had ever experienced. Her entire body felt hyper-sensitive, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and pain. The fullness was almost too much, the intense stretch making her feel completely claimed and utterly vulnerable.

"You’re taking us so fucking well." Chris said between groans, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Such a good girl, yeah? My girl is proving to us that she can be so fucking good."

"Oh... Matt... Chris... oh, fuck... making me feel so good."

The neighbors were definitely listening and the boys were proud that they knew the names of whoever was fucking that wonderful little slut with such energy and power.

Chris leaned his upper body over Y/N's back slightly, bringing his mouth close to her face, his lips pressing against her ear.

"You like being so fucking filled, don’t you?" Chris growled lowly, his curly brown strands loosening against his sweaty forehead. "You love feeling this."

Y/N nodded quickly, her breath hitching with every thrust.

"Yes, I fucking love it." She gasped, her voice trembling with need and pleasure. The sensation of being filled, the intense pleasure, the degradation, all combined to create a storm of sensation that left her trembling and gasping for more.

She moved her right hand away from the mattress and searched for Matt's right one. She took two of his fingers, bringing them into her mouth, sucking them as if there was no tomorrow, her warm tongue traveling through their length, making more noise than necessary.

"Fucking hell, babe. Would you look at that." Matt moaned, watching her as if she was the only girl in the world.

Y/N smirked after taking his fingers out of her mouth, a loose strand of saliva connected her plump lips to him before moving them lower, pressing them directly on her clitoris, between their bodies. A new glow of excitement came over Matt's face and he began to touch her, rubbing and squeezing her swollen bud.

The new stimulation made the girl see stars, her eyes rolling to her skull.

She could feel Chris deep, strong thrusts in her ass, the familiar burn mixing with a pleasure that made her toes curl.

At the same time, Matt's cock drove into her pussy with a relentless rhythm that left her gasping for air.

The way their bodies moved against her, Chris hands gripping her hips to keep her steady, Matt's one's exploring her most sensitive areas, made her feel like she was on the edge of losing herself entirely.

Her senses were overwhelmed, her mind a blur of sensation. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, the intensity building with each movement.

The wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, one that left her teetering on the edge of madness. Her body ached with the need to orgasm, the buildup of sensation creating a tension so intense it was almost painful, which made her start moaning the kind of moan that she only created when she was close.

And the boys knew that.

"Look at you, so desperate to cum." Matt growled. "You love being used by us, don’t you?"

"Please... fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with need and pleasure. "Please, I need to cum. Please let me cum. Please! S-so fucking- Ugh."

Chris's right hand moved to her stomach, pressing it down hard as he began to thrust faster, the combined sensation of their movements driving her wild.

"Yeah, baby? You want to cum? Then you're gonna cum for us, and you’re going to thank us for it." He growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

The pleasure built to a fever pitch, her body trembling with the intensity of it. And with one last loud and prolonged moan, Y/N came like never before, her body convulsing with pleasure, the orgasm crashing over her in wave after wave, each one more intense than the last.

Her total pornographic moans filled the room, the sensation of being filled by both of them driving her to her peak. Chris and Matt continued their thrusts, riding out her orgasm, prolonging the pleasure, their dominance absolute.

"Tha-ank you."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @delilahsversion @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zayyluvz

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Scared?

Blurb: Eddie is the bane of all your desires but he is also your brother’s best friend… which makes him off-limits. During a visit to your family home Eddie gets a little fed up with you prancing around almost naked and decides that- Enough. Is. Enough.

Pairing: Older brothers best friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: slight angst, 18+, Mean!Eddie, dubcon/noncon, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (p in v) swearing, rough sex, slight Bully!Eddie, Dom!Eddie.

-

divider by @cafekitsune

It really wasn’t Eddie’s fault, what was he to do? Sit back and watch you act like a little slut? To be quite frank, he was sick of it. He was fed up with you pining for his attention constantly-

He had known for sometime how you felt about him. The way your skirt got hiked up a few inches as soon as he entered through the door, or how you would ‘accidentally’ drop things right in front of him, flashing your ass as you bent down to retrieve them. Your brother, Sam, was oblivious to it all. You were his innocent little sister and nothing could change his perception of you. But Eddie knew… he knew how much you wanted him.

It was Halloween night and Sam and Eddie had planned to go TP a few houses, maybe launch a few eggs as well whilst they were at it and like always Eddie was the designated driver. Not because Sam was drinking alcohol but because he still hadn’t got his license. The lazy piece of shit, Eddie thought to himself as he rapped a few hard knocks on your family home’s front door, not expecting to see you answer it.

You roll your eyes at the sight of Eddie, full of a stinking attitude, “Sam isn’t here.” Your hip has popped to one side and Eddie’s jaw clenches with withered patience.

“Where is he?” His voice is clipped, like he doesn’t even want to talk to you.

“Dunno.” You shrug, blowing a small bubble with the bubblegum you’re chewing in your mouth.

“When will he be back?” Eddie shoves his hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forward on his heels slightly.

“Like I said- I. don’t. Know.” A tight lipped smile stretches Eddie’s face in an almost sinister way.

“Can I at least come in and wait? Surely you don’t hate me that much?” He was toying with you, knowing fine well how much you lusted for him. He had read your cute little diary a few weeks back, the one decorated with rhinestones and feathers… although, its appearance on the outside paled in comparison to the fucking filth written on the inside. The pages were filled with your dirty fantasies and the common denominator between them all?

They were all about Eddie.

It was always him lapping between your legs with his soaking wet tongue, stroking your pussy and making you scream. It was his lips pinching the skin of your neck, leaving marks all over your soft flesh. It was Eddie’s fingers that would bruise your ass with his hard spankings…

And as much as he hated to admit it, the thought of it all turned him on. His cock rock hard in his jeans as he flicked through the pages, only to have to shove it back beneath your bed seconds later.

“Ugh, fine.” You step to the side, allowing the long haired man to slither inside. Eddie had a plastic bag with him, filled with the supplies for the night ahead and you snatch it from him to look inside.

“Hey!” His voice is a rough bark as it leaves his lips, “Give it back!” You only manage to steal a glimpse inside before he is tearing it from your hands, ripping the bag in the process. Eddie lets out an agitated groan, “Fucking great, look what you did!” He waves the bag in front of your face, “Do you seriously have to be such a fucking brat all the time? Pathetic!” His words are laced with venom as he spits them at you- and you should be upset by his words and the way he is reacting but really… it turns you on.

“Why do you have a ‘Scream’ mask?” You bat your eyelashes at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to rile him up a bit more, “If anything is pathetic, it’s that. You call that a costume?” You spin on your heels, giggling as you do and you head to the living room to grab some things that you were about to take upstairs before he interrupted you.

“It’s a ghostface mask, the movie is called Scream..” he follows flush behind you, “And it’s not pathetic.” He rakes his ring clad fingers through his hair, clearly you have already managed to stress him out and he has only been here five minutes.

“What are you dressing up as?” He collapses down onto the sofa, “Let me guess-“ he taps his finger on his lips pensively, his eyes drinking in your figure, “You’re gonna be a slutty… something. Am I right?” He grins and you frown over at him.

“I’m not dressing up, you asshole.” Your fingers hook around the handles of your laundry basket, ready to lift it up to your bedroom, “Maybe you should go as a massive dick- because that’s what you are, Munson. A big fat fucking dick!” As soon as the words leave your mouth your chest clenches with heavy regret. You weren’t scared before, but with the look on Eddie’s face, you’re terrified now.

Eddie’s usually puppy soft brown eyes cloud with what you can only assume is rage. You have pushed him to the edge- no, you have pushed him right fucking off of it. He’s done playing these games with you. He’ll make you regret ever wanting him in the first place.

“Don’t look so afraid now, Dollface.” His steps toward you are calculated and his heavy boots pound on the carpeted floor with intention, “You want some help with that?” He nods toward the basket in your arms and you shake your head silently. This basket is the only thing separating you from him and you’ll grip onto it for the rest of your life if it meant Eddie couldn’t get any closer to you.

“Give me it.” He demands, his voice is grumbly as he pries the laundry from your shaking fingers, “Your bedroom, right? That’s where you were taking these?” You nod, not saying another word. Eddie’s demeanour seems as cool as ice but you can see the war waging behind his eyes. He is fucking pissed-

“Words.” He bites, “They exist for a reason y’know.”

“Yes. My room.” You hate the way your voice sounds as it leaves your throat. You wish you could take it back, all of it- all of the times you pressed his buttons, teased him, insulted him. But it’s too late now. What’s done is done,

Eddie gestures an arm out toward the staircase, “Ladies first.” He insists with a forced smile and you suddenly feel an urge to apologise to him for the tiny little shorts you are wearing that are barely covering your ass- hell, some people would consider them underwear.

“Eddie-“ you try to reason with him but immediately you swallow the words after seeing his face contort in a way you don’t want to test. So, you take to the stairs. Your steps are slow as you lift one foot after another, not daring to look back at Eddie who is right behind you on the way up.

The top of the staircase approaches like one lead to the noose and you can hear a voice in your head screaming at you to run away, to fight against him, to protest this- but you don’t. You stay quiet, because deep down… you want this. And you have wanted this for years.

Both of you walk through your bedroom door and you stand as far from him as you can as Eddie dumps your laundry basket down onto the floor, leaving it in a far off corner, “Thank you.” You squeak with a sweet smile, but Eddie doesn’t leave. In fact, he closes your bedroom door and clicks the lock shut. Leaving the both of you alone.

“Get on the bed.” His voice is almost unrecognisable and you would have listened to him if you weren’t frozen stiff to the spot where you stood. It’s as if your feet have been bolted to the floor. Your arms that were crossed over your chest come to fall limply at your sides with shock, “What, do you need help with that too?” Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste, marching over to you he grabs your arms so tightly that you know there will be bruises there tomorrow and he throws you onto the bed so hard that you nearly go flying over it.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream, repositioning yourself on the bed to glare at him, but instead of glaring back, he smiles.

“There she is- I wondered where that little smart mouth of yours went.” His large hands find his hair and he pulls it from his shoulders and up into a messy bun, “I was almost starting to feel bad for you- you were so close to avoiding all of this.” You were confused for the most part- what was he going to do to you? Beat you? Eddie would never hurt you, you know that. But why would he lock you away?

“Avoid what? Eddie, I’m sorry-“ Your pleas are cut short by a yelp as Eddie grabs your bare ankles, pulling you savagely to the edge of the bed and restraining your legs in the air.

“No you’re not. You never are.” You had dreamed of this so many times, Eddie Munson in your bedroom, his hands all over your skin… but this seemed to be going in a different direction. One you weren’t sure of.

“Please,” You can feel your eyes becoming a bit teary and Eddie laughs at you manically. Of course you want nothing more than for him to fuck you, but the way he is acting is so out of character… it’s frightening.

“Scared?” He pouts out his bottom lip mockingly, “Aww, the baby is gonna cry- are you crying?” He laughs harder and you decide enough is enough. You attempt to swing your legs off of the bed to stand up but Eddie has other plans. He grabs your frame, taking your wrists into his hands he pins you to the mattress. His waist is slotted between your thighs and the blush that grows on your cheeks is feverish.

“I thought you wanted this…” His appearance softens as his lips come to the shell of your ear, nibbling on the soft flesh, “You’re gonna take my cock and you’re gonna fucking like it.” You can feel him grinning against the nape of your neck before he sucks on the skin, his tongue flicking and soothing the bruises that he’s making. It’s almost like he had read your diary…

Despite the ache pulsing beneath your panties you can’t allow this to happen, Sam would be distraught. It would ruin your siblinghood and Eddie and his friendship. It’ll be a shit show!

“No,” You whisper, fighting the urge to moan as Eddie sucks on a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed.. but he doesn’t stop and you head is becoming hazy with lust, “Eddie, no…” you buck your hips up against his in protest, trying to free yourself from beneath him but he presses his hardened bulge against you tighter, his weight dominating you. You’re trapped.

He grinds his hips into you and you accidentally allow a moan to slip through, it’s faint and dripping with sugar and it sends Eddie’s primal instincts fucking wild. He wants to hear it again but he also needs to find a way to take total control of you.

Eddie starts at your neck, kissing down between the valley of your breasts to your torso he lands at your hips. He momentarily lets go of your wrists so his large thumbs can massage your hip bones and he expects you to try to flee from the bed but you don’t. Or so he thought. You lunge up from the bed and scamper for the door, but unfortunately for you Eddie is fast and before you are able to reach the door his arms are hooked around your waist, carrying you back to the bed. You try screaming, but you know that no one is home… no one’s going to hear you and no one is coming to save you.

This time, Eddie’s impatience is at its peak. He pushes you onto your knees, the bones crashing onto the floor and he forces you face down onto the mattress. Grabbing your arms he secures both of your hands behind your back with a pair of pantyhose from your laundry pile, knotting them tight around your wrists and ignoring your sobs of complaint.

“Stop it!!” You try to stand up but Eddie helps you, only to then shove you back onto your bed. Your sheets were perfectly crease-free this morning when you left your room, now your duvet is a total mess and some of your pillows are on the floor.

“Shut the fuck up!!” Eddie grabs your cheeks, his voice is an animalistic growl as he slams your head back into a pile of pillows. Your bottom lip quiver but your body is betraying your mind- your panties are soaked. Drenched in slick from your core, “I won’t hesitate to gag you, do you understand?” He is between your thighs again and all you can muster is a weak nod, tears still streaking down your face.

“See? You can be a good girl.” A smugness pulls his lips up into a smirk and you readjust yourself to get comfortable, trying to not allow your arms to go to sleep.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to undress himself and his mind is reeling at the sight of you quivering and crying on your bed. He has wanted nothing more than to punish you for your behaviour for months- and now he is… and you can’t stop him. He rips your shorts down your legs and to he is pleasantly surprised to see that he accidentally pulled your panties off with them, “Whoops.” He tosses them behind him and they land somewhere in the room, “I’ll save those for later…”

You feel overly exposed to him and you try to clamp your thighs together to shield yourself but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Fucking behave!” He warns, his hand finding your throat as he squeezes it at each side- your mind becomes hazy and your vision nearly totally blacks out.

When he lets go you are fighting for a breath, but no I’m a bad way. You’re more panting than gasping and soon those pants are replaced by moans as you suddenly feel Eddie’s face between your legs. His tongue is licking slow tedious strips up your dripping wet slit and his lips latch onto your swollen clit, sucking it relentlessly, “Taste so good,” He groans, his eyes hooded with hunger and desire, “Pussy is mine. Only fucking mine” His voice vibrates against your folds and your head tilts back against the pillows, your back arching off of the mattress as you resist the urge to grind your pussy on his tongue. You’re not meant to be enjoying this, but your tears have stopped and your moans are getting louder and louder...

“All those tears and for what?” Eddie laughs, blowing some cool air onto your flooded core, sending tingles racing up your spine, “I knew you wanted this, you little fucking slut. Maybe you’ll think twice before wearing skimpy clothes around me, eh?” His eyes meet yours and you nearly cum at the sight. His mouth is glistening with your arousal and his eyes are swirling with hunger.

He latches himself back onto you, his tongue flicking furiously at your sensitive bundle of nerves and just as you are about to feel your release he pulls his, causing a penetrative whine to fill the air.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock- and I’m gonna fill your cute little pussy with my cum.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your thighs and you wince at the pain before nodding obediently.

“Words!” He slaps your inner thigh and you yelp.

“Y.. yes! Yes, Eddie!” You’re breathless, swollen, red and craving release and Eddie is drunk on it all. He has total control over you.. he can do as he fucking pleases with you and you can’t do a single thing about it.

His jeans are on the floor in seconds and his hard cock springs from his underwear, causing your eyes to widen. You called him a massive dick early- you just didn’t know that he had one. You couldn’t help the fear that filled your chest at the thought that this actually might hurt.

Jumping from the bed you watch as he walks over to where your laundry basket is, his fist pumping at his shaft as he does. He reached behind the basket, pulling out the Halloween mask from earlier and he slips it on.

“What is it you said about this earlier?” He taps the white plastic of the mask, his deep voice now muffled by the material, “That it was pathetic?” He hums in disappointment and you can tell that beneath that mask he is grinning like a mad man.

He slaps his cock against your core, laughing as you gasp at the sensitivity of it. Using your knees as leverage he holds your thighs wide open, teasing your entrance with the swollen tip of his shaft and when you hear him moan it sends your mind fleeting into the clouds. You must have died and went to heaven because this is what this felt like.

He sinks down, fully submerging every inch of himself deep inside of you and you whimper at the stretch. You fucking whimper and Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head, “Fuck,” he seethes, “You’re so wet, Doll. So wet and tight and warm for me.” He groans and your bottom lip feels like it could be bleeding from how hard you are biting on it. You never thought you would see the day when Eddie Munson fucks you in a horror mask- but anything is possible if you’re bratty enough.

He bottoms out, watching through the dark eyeholes of the mask as he sinks back inside of you. He slow at first, making sure to drink in every pulse, every filthy wet noise- but then he’s speeding up. He doesn’t care that you’re screaming out from the change in rhythm he is starving- he wants to use you like you’re a doll and whatever Eddie wants, Eddie gets.

“Ahh!!” You cry out, your eyes pinching shut as Eddie’s shaft hits your special spot ,”Shit!” Your breathing hitches in your throat and your nails claw at the pantyhose around your wrists, desperate to grip onto something to steady yourself.

Eddie’s moans intensify, the sound of wet skin slapping against one another fills the air as Eddie grabs your throat again, desperately chasing his own release ,”Look at me!” He urges with haste and you do, your eyes reopening to settle on the ghostface cladding his features. You try your best, you really do and Eddie appreciates the way you fight to keep your pretty eyes open and on him as the oxygen is deprived to your brain but as you reach your high and Eddie spills inside of you.. you black out.

Completely unconscious and the only image you remember when you reawaken is that of the ghostface mask from Scream…

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas

[azzibuckets]

two can play [paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige are both extremely petty and extremely jealous people

word count: 1k

masterlist

The tension between you and Paige was unspoken, but so palpable that even your teammates were giving the two of you a wide berth.

You knew what Paige was doing. Asking one of the strangers at the beach, a pretty young girl with fiery red hair, to rub in her sunscreen for her. The girl had agreed a little bit too eagerly, had let her eyes drop across Paige’s body, skimpily clad in her navy blue bikini, before squeezing the white lotion into her hand and letting her palms spread sensually across the expanse of Paige’s shoulders.

The redhead’s fingers began dipping below the straps of her bikinis, fluttering across Paige’s sides and coming too close to the swell of her breasts. You gritted your teeth, hating the way Paige was leaning into her touch, allowing this bitch to feel her up. You made the mistake of making eye contact with Paige, and the smirk she sent you was knowing and dangerous, as if she could read every one of the violent desires pervading your thoughts.

It was a game, and neither of you wanted to lose. But you were determined - determined to make Paige be the first to cave in from the jealousy and admit her feelings so that you two could finally drop the pretense of being just friends.

But two could play this game. You tore your eyes from where the redhead was now wiping the excess sunscreen from her fingers, heading to one of the bars at the resort the team was staying at for the Cayman Islands classic.

You took a seat, making sure to unbutton the top of your swimsuit cover-up to show your cleavage. You firmly rejected the first two guys to come up to you, knowing that Paige wouldn’t care if she saw you with them. She annoyingly knew that a man could never hold a candle to what she had to offer.

But when a blonde approached you, eyelashes fluttering and hot pink acrylic nails scraping the skin of your bicep, a slow smile spread across your face. A woman? Check. A woman who looked like Paige? Bingo.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The blonde’s smile was sharp and hungry, a stark difference to the way Paige looked at you - all softness and affection.

You leaned forward, letting your hand fall and brush her waist. “I’ll get whatever you’re having.”

The blonde studied the drink in her hands before looking up at you. “It’s sour,” she warned. “You might not like it.”

“Try me.”

Eyes glittering, the blonde laced her fingers through your hair and titled your chin up. She brought the rim of her glsss to your lips, pouring a small amount of liquid into your mouth. You licked the residue off your lips, but a small drop of whatever alcohol it was dribbled down your chin. The blonde’s eyes flickered down, tracing the path of the drop, and she leaned in, her mouth dangerously close to your jawline, before you felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you back.

“Excuse me.” You didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. “She’s mine.”

Scoffing, the blonde looked at you with disgust when you didn’t protest, and she quickly left. You smirked to yourself, but it soon faded when Paige flipped you around, pressing you against the wall.

“Having fun?” she said, her voice low and eerily calm. The look in her eyes was cold.

You let your finger trace its way down her cheek, across the slope of her nose and grazing her bottom lip. “So much fun,” you breathed.

Paige’s jaw flexed. “You’re being a brat.”

You looked up at Paige through your lashes, faux innocence and everything. “Am I?”

Paige let go of your hips. Taking a step back, she ran a hand through her already frazzled hair and looked away. You sighed, knowing that Paige still wasn’t ready to actually do anything. So you left, making sure to knock her shoulder as you walked past. “You’re not winning,” you whispered, delighting in how her body tensed up from those words.

The rest of the day was a battle. Paige would buy a girl a drink, letting her mouth brush against their ears as she spoke to them. You hated how short they were, how they looked up to Paige with admiring eyes, asking her about her games and fangirling over how she scored 20 points just yesterday night. You hated the way their gaze followed the muscles in Paige’s arms as they flexed - something so subtle you wouldn’t have been able to notice had you not been in the same position millions of times before.

But most of all, you hated how in the end, Paige was always respectful towards them, letting her hands stay in appropriate places and backing up whenever they tried to grind against her. It was a reminder that she knew she belonged to you, but was still too pussy to do anything about it.

Yet, thirsty for revenge, throughout the day you’d go back out in the sun and purposefully situate yourself near a pretty girl, flattening out your towel and laying lazily on it, not bothering to cover up a single inch of skin as the girl’s eyes inevitably roamed. Or you’d join Aubrey and KK at the shack, letting them feed you fruit with their hands as they cackled over the death glares Paige would be sending your way.

The final straw for Paige came at the end of the night. When you heard the blonde from earlier offering body shots, you immediately joined. “Stomach or chest?” The blonde whispered sensually, letting her breath tickle your cheek. You smirked, knowing the option that would piss Paige off more.

Taking the shot from the blonde’s hand, you let your fingers linger over hers before downing the vodka. As soon as you hovered over her, though, preparing to lick the salt off the swell of her boob, fingers hooked around the loops of your jean shorts and pulled you back.

“Okay,” Paige murmured into your ear, her voice rough and strained. “You win.”

You leaned back into the warmth of her touch. “I win?” You rolled your hips against her, smirking when her breath hitched and her fingers dug even harder into your skin.

“For now,” she countered, starting to trail warm kisses down your neck. “But you won’t be saying that later.”

[sincerelyneo]

mark doesn't know | n.jm

“but she’s under me and i’m not stopping”

💿now playing: scotty doesn’t know by lustra

❯ summary: You don’t even remember how it started, but Jaemin does. He’s wanted to get his hands on you the minute he met you — and he’d be damned if he let something as silly as his friend get in the way of the thing he really wants. So alas, you’ve been fucking your boyfriend’s friend for the last two months.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader (brief mark x reader)

❯ genre: boyfriend’s friend! jaemin, smut, light angst, college!au.

❯ words: 3.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, cheating (boo), unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light chocking, hair pulling, begging, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader cheats on mark with jaemin.

You don’t even remember the first time it happened; or more so, how it happened. 

"J-Jaem we really shouldn't be doing this,” you huff out as your boyfriend’s good friend sucks on the skin against your neck, right below your ear. 

His breath is hot, and his touch feels melting. 

"You say that every time, and yet, look where you are. Back with me again.”

Your next words are cut off by the feeling of Jaemin’s lips pressing against yours. You want to give in, but something's on your mind this time — guilt. 

Pushing him back, you try to move from the wall, but he keeps you there. "We can't, not again. Mark’s on his way-"

He covers your mouth with his hand. He fucking hates when you bring him up. He fucking hates that his friend is the one that gets to have you on his arm. And he certainly fucking hates the fact that he had been the one to introduce the two of you in the first place. 

You were Jaemin’s lab partner before you even knew of Mark’s name. One night when you were over at Jaemin’s house for an assignment, Mark just so happened to turn up. If Jaemin had it his own way, he would have never even planned to introduce you to his older friend — but he was the one who told you to answer the door that night. 

And God did he fucking regret it. 

The memory of you answering the door with an immediate blush and flutter of your eyelashes at Mark’s presence played on his mind every time he saw the two of you together. 

You never looked at him like that — well at least not back then anyway. 

In Jaemin’s mind, he had made it very clear that he had a thing for you. He’d made it obvious, hadn’t he? 

Well, that’s what he thought. So, when news hit that you were fucking the older boy and going on dates with him; it was safe to say that Jaemin was beyond pissed. 

And when you were the one to kiss Jaemin one late night of studying — he seized the opportunity because he’d be damned before he lost his shot with you again. And thus, the two of you fucked every Thursday night’s study session. 

"Don't. Don't say his name,” he growls, low and nasally enough to have your stomach fluttering. “Now, nod your head if you're gonna stop worrying and listen to me.” 

You nod your head almost instantly with wide eyes. You couldn’t help the way your pussy grows even more slick, threatening to pool in your underwear, at his dominant demands.

"Good girl,” he says when you obey him, finally removing his hand from your mouth.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, pushing the few dishevelled stands of his hair out of his face to look up at you.

“I’m gonna give you something else to think about." He spreads your legs apart, snaking his hand delicately around your thighs to reach under your dress and tease the waistline of your panties. 

You wordlessly look down at him. And although you're not saying no it’s not enough for him.

"Tell me gorgeous, can I have you for tonight, again?" His voice seems deeper and his tone thicker, eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You close your eyes as he starts to drag the lace down your thighs, "I need words, Y/N. Can I have a taste?" 

"Yes." You sigh out.

"Yes, who?"

"Yes Jaemin.” 

He has you lift up your feet, one at a time, so that he can remove your panties completley. Your eyes shoot open just in time to see him stuff them in his back pocket. Your body starts to throb at the sight — the sight of him being so smitten for you. 

He grabs one of your legs, hoisting it up so that it's over his shoulder, exposing your bare core to him. Jaemin wasn’t a man of withstanding, so he wastes no time working his tongue the only way he knows best — the way you like it.

He starts by licking a long stripe up your wet cunt, groaning at the taste. The sound sends ripples against your clit, making your body jolt forward further on his tongue. 

"Can't believe you wanted to deny me of this,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

He suctions his mouth on your clit, making your breath hitch in your throat. You're biting down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, as he starts sucking and pulling on the bud. You're certain your legs would have given out immediately had he not offered his shoulder as support.

"Sorry, m'sorry.", you moan, hands coming to grip his hair but he stops you. 

"I didn't say you could touch me yet,” he smirks up at you. 

He continues licking your clit until he reaches his hand down to your cunt to join his tongue. He watches your eyes shut in pleasure; the way your hands are clenching into fists, resisting the urge to touch him, wanting to try your best to follow his orders.

The pads of his fingers go to your swollen nerves, starting to apply pressure with slow torturous circles and your head slumps back against the wall, mouth hung open as a deep moan floats out of you. He lets two of his fingers dip down to your hole, teasing you a bit before sinking them in with no resistance. 

You know you’re not going to last, and you’re too out of your mind to even feel slightly embarrassed about it. You could get down on both knees right now and praise god for those fingers of his.

"I've missed how you feel against my fingers baby, couldn't forget it, soaking wet for me just like last time,” he says, looking up at you with thick lashes. 

It has your skin tingling, and your heart thumping against your chest; so hard that it's rippling down to the throb between your legs that only worsens as he continues pushing. 

"Can feel you clenching on my fingers,” he further teases, voice like gravel as he continues to watch you in amazement. "But I bet you wish it wasn't just my fingers, hm?" 

You bite your lip to stop a moan, but then Jaemin stops the movement of his fingers, pulling a whine from you. 

"Answer me baby. You want my cock in this tight little cunt, don't you?" 

You can practically feel him smile when he nuzzles his face into your thigh, watching you struggle to respond. 

"Jaemin please just-", you choke on your words when he begins to finger you again. 

"Just what? Use your words, Y/N."

"Want you to fuck me, please, stop teasing me,” you whine frustratedly. 

"Y'know I just love to hear you beg. Gonna fuck you, promise, but I want you to cum on my fingers first,” his fingers begin to pick up pace, curling to hit the spongy spot inside to which you cry out. 

Your teeth clamp down on your lip again as you circle your hips against his hand mindlessly, earning hiss after hiss from him. 

"Yeah? Gonna make a mess of my fingers? Be my good girl?" 

You can only moan in response, your mouth dropping open with small pants coming out. You start clinging to his shoulders, trying to stay upright. The sensation of your muscles contracting, with each thrust of his fingers and the heel of his palm rubbing against your aching spot, has your legs trembling.

"So close, Jaem, I’m so close. Let me cum." 

Jaemin looks up, nodding against you in a silent confirmation that you can — and you swear you see stars. You can feel your walls deep inside cracking as he starts sending shockwaves through your body. Jaemin even has to hold you up as your leg almost collapses and your hold on his shoulder tightens.

He continues to soothe and flick over your clit even after you come down from your high, and you're too weak to push him away.

"Jaem- baby I'm sensitive,” you tell him and he finally draws back, grinning up at you with a sly smile. 

He sets your leg down, getting up from his knees to stand right in front of you, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you. 

It’s sloppy and harsh, like he needs this or he’ll die, like he doesn’t want you escaping him, ever. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you groan into the kiss, your hands fisting the bottom of his shirt.

"More- I need more,” you mumble against his lips before kissing him again. 

Jaemin brings his hands from your face, to the back of your neck, using all the power he has to —somewhat— forcefully pull you away from him. 

"You know how this works. You gotta tell me more than that," his voice is just above a whisper, a sadistic smirk on his face as he watches your eyes struggle to leave his lips.

"What do you want more of, hm? More of my mouth?" You shake your head no, and Jaemin pretends to sigh. He tightens his grip on your neck, making you look him in the eye. "If you can't use your words, I can't help you." 

Jaemin knows exactly what you want and how you want it. But he can’t help but love seeing you get all needy and frustrated. It’s his own personal reminder of how much you need him — or better yet — how much Mark isn’t satisfying you. Knowing he gives you something Mark can’t, never fails to make his cock ache. 

"I want you to fuck me,” you finally say, voice barely audible. 

"I couldn't hear you. Repeat that for me?” He taunts and it makes you want to stomp your foot in frustration. 

"Stop teasing me, please. I need you to fuck me.” 

Jaemin grins at this, wasting no time in releasing your neck so that he can pick you up and carry you to your bed — Mark’s bed.

You let out a small squeal, swatting at him to put you down. You hated the way he was always picking you up, but for him, having you wrap around his waist was his way of being as close as possible to you. He tosses you down on the bed, making you look up at him with a glare.

"Be careful dumbass." 

He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up into that stupid smirk once again. "You've got quite the mouth all of a sudden."

Jaemin kneels down on the bed in front of you, parting your legs so that he can be in between them. 

"Just a few minutes ago it was ‘oh Jaem I’m gonna cum, don't stop please,” he mocks with a small laugh, causing you to bring your hands up to hide yourself. 

Jaemin stops you though, pinning your hands down beside your head. "Oh none of that. Where'd my bratty girl go, huh?"

The way that he barely has to use any of his strength to pin you down, plus his large and muscular frame boxing you in, has you practically drooling. 

He inches his face closer to yours, tricking you into thinking he's going to kiss you, but just as your lips graze his he turns to the side, making you kiss his cheek instead. 

"Jaemin," you whine. 

"Sorry sorry, you just looked so desperate for it, I couldn't resist,” Jaemin knows the effect his words have on you because your hips are bucking up into the air as the throbbing returns to your core.

"Want a proper kiss?" he asks, and you nod, staring up at him with pleading eyes. "Yeah? Beg." 

It's a simple command that usually would have had you scoffing, telling Jaemin to get over himself and stop teasing, but you're so needy for his touch that you give in. 

"Jaemin", you whine again — and oh does he love the way you say his name. "Baby please, kiss me, I- I need it." 

He knows that you can beg better than that, he's heard you do it plenty of times, but he takes mercy on you, partially because his own need is screaming just as loud as yours is. He lets his lips connect with yours and wastes no time ravishing your mouth. 

He growls into the kiss, bringing one of his hands to curl around your throat, adding a little pressure as his tongue explores your mouth like he's never kissed it before.

You two are a desperate mess now, as you start to work with each other until you’re both fully undressed. Breathy pants and soft moans fill the silence in the room. 

Jaemin’s towering over you, his knees poking in between your legs to probe them wider for him. You don’t resist, you don’t want to. One of his hands reaches down to fist the throbbing cock between his own legs as he rubs himself teasingly between your seeping folds. 

"Condom?" You ask, trying to think as clearly as possible.

Jaemin looks almost offended that you've asked, scoffing as he positions his tip at your entrance. 

"Since when have we ever used condoms?" 

"We haven’t. I just thought you might want to-"

You're cut off by a gasp as he begins to push into you, the familiar delicious stretch and slight burn settling in. You hear Jaemin swear under his breath, as his hips flush right against yours. 

"You just thought what?" he asks as his head dips down, nosing along your jawline before peppering wet kisses along your neck.

"I- uh,” you stutter, losing your train of thought from the feeling of him inside you; so deep and hard and rough.

You bite down on your lip. You only ever have Jaemin like this; and you can't explain the overwhelming feeling you get whenever you get to have him with no barriers, getting to be as close to him as possible — even if you didn’t deserve it. 

"It's because of him right? You're worried that he'll have to feel my cum deep in this pretty pussy of yours, aren't you?" 

And although his tone is somewhat playful, there's a bite to it. You know how Jaemin feels about having to sneak around; knew all about how he wishes you were his and his only. 

He doesn't allow you to respond though, knowing that's a conversation you'll have to have at a different time. Instead, his hips slowly begin to rut against yours, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. 

"Fuck fuck fuck,” Jaemin groans against your ear.

Your hands are clawing at his back as his thrusts pick up pace. And as much as he loves you doing that, marking him as yours in your own special way, he redirects your hands to his hair. You immediately begin to tug at his locks, loving the way it feels between your fingers. 

He speeds up his pace. The sharp sting radiating through you, mixed with the sensation of his centre grinding against your own. His movements cause a crippling to all of your senses and creates an unbearable, but familiar, throb in the pit of your belly.

Jaemin is a mess of pants and grunts on top of you, mixed with the low moans that rumble inside of him when he circles his hips harder against you.

"I'd drag this out all night if I could, but my cock is aching for you," he grits through his teeth, snapping his hips against you one last time before pulling away.

He wets his lips, darting his eyes to yours before snapping his mouth from your neck to lean down and press an affectionate kiss against you. Both of you are inhaling sharply into the kiss when you feel him hit his cock in the deepest places, collecting the arousal there.

Your parted lips hover against each other, shallow breaths mixing together as he pulls out of you, and you whine. He starts slowly circling around your entrance like he's teasing himself as well as you. 

You gasp, when he inches forward again, going at a tortuously slow place. He had you so slick with excitement as always there's no resistance at all.  

His eyes squeeze closed as his jaw goes slack, letting out the most erotic moans. You can feel your muscles stretching out to accommodate him and it feels euphoric.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, needing to be closer, as he continues to draw his hips back and forth in fast powerful strokes, switching between kissing you harshly and whispering dirty nothings into the air between you.

You grip your fingers tighter on his hair, moving your lips to go to his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin, feeling his pulse thump harder as you do.

He hisses, clenching his teeth as his hand takes hold of your hip, digging his fingers in while his hips jolt forward, "Shit, if you keep doing that I'm not going to last.”

How needy and desperate he sounds spurs a fire in you, moaning against his skin as you push your hips back against him.

“Then don't last, I won't either, I just need you.”

You nip and suck at the heated skin on his neck, swirling your hips against him to spur him on, and he lets out a frustrated growl before he angles your hips up and draws back, snapping forward roughly. It makes your head roll back as you arch into him when he repeats the action again.

"Is this what you needed baby?" he grits, his jaw tenses as he thrusts into you abruptly.  "Wanted me to fuck into you harder? Wanted someone to fuck you properly? Wanted me to show you just how much better you feel clenched around me?"

You can't answer, only managing to gasp out short, strained moans in rhythm with his thrusts as he drives into you in sharp, deliberate motions, filling and hitting all of the places inside you that only he can.

The noises leaving Jaemin are borderline animalistic, the guttural and hoarse sound, vibrating through your whole body as he starts to fuck into you at a relentless pace.

You can feel yourself tightening and clenching around him, muscles pulling him in with each thrust as he knocks against all the right places that were already aching for him, urging you further into your orgasm.

"Shit- Jaemin, I think I'm gonna co-"

You're cut off once again, but not by Jaemin, by the sound of your front door opening. 

"Babe, are you home?"

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Keep it down

Summary : Aizetsu is pressed against his crush in a very crowded bus and can’t help but pop a boner from how close the two of you are. But, luckily for him, you didn’t hate it at all. Disclaimer : AizetsuXFem reader. Modern AU. Public groping and sex.

A/n: I fear I cooked with this one fam <3 This was a fan request from a Patron a few months ago and it is one of my personal favorites. I no longer take requests over on my Patreon as i'd like to consider seriously doing commissions some day, but the tiers over there are still fun and very worth your time. If you enjoy what I do, please consider supporting me! (Link in bio)

Aizetsu didn’t consider himself to be a religious man. But at this moment, a prayer kept repeating in his head:

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look don’t look don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook-

“You okay, Aizi?” you asked, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes, your long eyelashes fluttering as you blinked up at him. He gulped heavily as he forced his eyes to trail up to the ceiling of the bus, focusing in on a random screw and trying to distract himself the best he could.

“Y-Yeah, all good.” He responded, grunting as the space around him got tighter. “I’m sorry about this,” you said, an apologetic expression on your face, “I asked you to come out with me but…I didn’t think the bus would be so crowded today.”

You grimaced as you looked around, huffing as the doors opened in a stop only for more people to shuffle in and for nobody to move out. Aizetsu grunted as he was pushed farther into the bus and towards the opposite side, the only thing separating him from the glass doors being you. His hands reached out and placed themselves against the glass, caging you and keeping you protected from the crowd around him.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, trying to ease your nerves and his, “I want to go out with you- I mean- I want to visit this museum too.”

He looked down at you but remembered why he shouldn’t and snapped his eyes up again, hoping his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. Due to your positions, the two of you were pushed against each other- which led to your body pressed flushed against his and if he looked down, he’d see your pretty tits smushed right on his torso. It was torture enough to even feel your soft globes press against him and it took all of his willpower to not get a boner- but if he looked down and saw the peek of cleavage from the bottom of your neckline- there’s no way you wouldn’t feel his dick press against you and he really doesn’t want to do that.

The last thing he wants is for his crush to feel his erection and hate him for being perverted.

“Oh- shit!” you gasped softly, immediately shuffling against him which got Aizetsu to jump.

“Wh-What happened?”

“Nothing- it’s just- my skirt is…” he heard you grunt in frustration, an irritated sigh leaving your hips as you continued to move against him, “My skirts riding up and it can’t…I can’t pull it down!”

“Oh!” Aizetsu gasped, blushing before he cleared his throat, ignoring the few glances people gave him. He tried not to think of what you were looking like, plump ass pressed against the window with your cute miniskirt pushing up. “Yeah- I’m pressed to tight against the window and I can’t- fuck- I’m gonna turn around, ok?”

“Ok-“

But before he could process anything, you started wiggling again, your whole body turning against him and he swore he almost passed out. He trailed his eyes to the ceiling once more and bit his lower lip, groaning in relief when you finally stopped moving, having turned around.

But now there was a new problem.

Your butt was pressed right against his crotch.

And your skirt was still pulled up a bit and he could see the barest hint of a pastel pink lace panty.

His cock throbbed and he prayed that you didn’t feel it through his sweatpants. Fuck- if he knew today would have been like this, he’d have worn something thicker.

“Ok- lemme just…” you brough a hand back and finally tugged your skirt down, your chest pressed against the window a bit as you covered yourself up, “Ah. Much better.”

“H-How much longer?” Aizetsu asked once he took in a deep breath, not sure how much more of this he could handle. Was everybody on Earth busy today?! It sure felt like it considering it didn’t feel like the crowd was decreasing.

“Still another 30 minutes, Aizi.” You told him, once again apologetic, “But I’m alright. Since I have you around!”

Aizetsu blushed at your sincere compliment but his eyes immediately snapped open wide in horror as you started wiggling your hips side to side. You do that something- when you say something purposefully cute, you’d shake your hips a bit and give him your puppy dog eyes- a habit of yours he absolutely loves but at the moment- he loathed.  

“Stop! Stop- stop-“ he couldn’t help but gasp out, quickly using a hand to grab your hip and make you stop moving, “Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” you asked, confused and concerned, “this?”

“Fuck-“ he gasped as you shook your hips against his crotch again, either doing it on purpose to rile him up or innocently questioning him- either way- his dick was hard now. Very obviously hard.

“Shit- Y-you’re-“ he cursed, gritting his teeth as he could literally feel his erection grow with each wiggle but unable to move away thanks to all of the people around- not even as inch of space left.

“What? I’m what?”

 “You-“ Aizetsu hissed, his other hand also coming down to harshly grip your waist and making you freeze in place. Oh fuck. His dick was rock hard in his pants and there was no way you couldn’t feel it.

“Is- is that your…“

“Yes- just- fuck- stop moving!” Aizetsu hissed, his face flushed bright red in embarrassment. God, he wanted the ground to part under him and swallow him just to get out of this situation. Why couldn’t he control himself? Now you were going to think he’s some pervert and not want anything to do with him-

“Did…you get like that because of me?” you whispered to him, making his face flush even more. Oh, he really wanted to die now.

“…Yeah.” He admitted, beyond embarrassed and ashamed, “Sorry- I’m so sorry! I’d move away but…”

He looked around them. There was just no space to move at all. So he was stuck here, cock hard and pressed against the ass of his crush. He was so conflicted with his emotions that he almost missed your response:

“Don’t be sorry. It seems like it’s my fault. Does…it hurt?”

“It’s…” Aizetsu swallowed, wondering why you were questioning him but he could never deny you of anything, “It’s frustrating.”

“But I don’t think it will go down if we’re stuck like this, right?”

“I…yeah…you’re right. Fuck- I’m so sorry.” Aizetsu whined, tears prickling his eyes. This was it. You were going to hate him now for being a pervert and you’d never feel safe around him anymore-

“Don’t apologise. Since its my fault…do you want me to help you?”

Aizetsu blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

What?

But before he could say anything, he gasped as your suddenly pushed your hips back against him, very obviously grinding you butt on him. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning hot as he watched you move your body.

“What are fuuuuck- oh God- ” he whispered as he leaned towards you, making sure you heard him, “cut that out! You’re only going to- oh fuck- oh-“

“Hmmm, I didn’t think a little rubbing would make you so excited, Aizi.” You teased, having the audacity to grin at him as you moved your hips in a circle, his hard cock balanced between your cheeks, “If I had known, I would have done this way sooner~ Were you always getting hard when I was close to you? What about the times I’ve sat on your lap?”

“Fuck- fuck- what are you doing?!” Aizetsu hissed, his voice low even though he wanted nothing more than to yelp in surprise. You were absolutely grinding yourself back against him, peachy butt rubbing on his clothed member. He bit his lower lip harshly, hands gripping your hips tighter to try and stop you but you were apparently very determined to push your ass against him.

“I told you! I made you hard, right?” you said, licking your lips as you felt his thick, hot rod push between your cheeks, “It only seems fair that I help you make it go away~”

“A-Are you crazy?!” he whisper-screamed in response, his eyes darting around, terrified that someone could be looking at them, “We’re in public!”

“I know~” you responded, a twinkle in your eyes, “doesn’t that make it better?”

“Oh god- ah!”

Aizetsu quickly slapped a hand over his mouth again as you gave him a particularly harsh grind, his eyes widening as he noticed your skirt starting to ride up again. You noticed the movement of his eyes and its target, chuckling at his very obvious desires.

“Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have pulled my skirt down, huh?” you asked, popping your hips a few times and shivering as you felt his hard, hard cock against your butt. Even though it was through layers of clothing, you could still feel how hot his dick was- how needy- how…thick~ You knew of Aizetsu’s little crush on you and while you thought it was cute, you never intended to pursue anything as you were into more dominating guys. Aizetsu could be assertive when he needed to be but always leaned more towards the passive, sad boy side of the spectrum and while you loved him as a friend, you never really thought about having him as a romantic partner.

But seeing the way he was tearing up…the blush on his face…his contorted expression…

You were learning something new about yourself and it felt too good to stop now.

“You wanna see more, Aizi?” you asked, a hand inching back down to the hem of your skirt, thumbing at the fabric, “Want me to grind my panty covered ass on your fat cock?”

“Shit- shut up!” he snapped, moving the hand over his mouth to instead cover yours instead. Your words and your tongue! How sinful! He’d never imagines his best friend to be such a…such a…slut! But he couldn’t like that his cock twitched in his pants at your words.

He gasped as he felt something slimy against his fingers, gliding over his skin, his hand vibrating from your moans- Oh god- you were licking his hand! He bit his lower lip to muffle his own cries, grateful that the train was so packed that nobody could really see you, everyone too engrossed in their phones to notice his mewls and whines.

Your hands were still naughty and eager to tease and before he knew it, he saw you slowly pull your skirt up. His jaw dropped, practically drooling as you exposed your behind, your pastel pink panties clear for his viewing pleasure. It was an adorable colour on you but even better than that was the way it fit you- so perfect against you, it was almost like it was moulded to your skin.

“Mmph- come on, Aizi~” you said, shaking your head out of his saliva covered hand to talk to him, “Enjoy yourself.”

With that, you continued to grind your ass against him while also taking his other hand in yours. His breath got caught in his throat as you lifted that hand up and boldly placed it on your chest. He couldn’t help himself- his body moving faster than his mind- as his fingers instinctively squeezed on your plush tit. He heard you mewl happily, like his touch was satisfying a deep need inside you.

“You’re- fucking crazy!” he hissed out, still hyper conscious of his surrounding but…but…your breast in his hand felt amazing and your ass- only covered by a thin panty- was just heavenly against his cock- he was slowly starting to feel his surroundings melt away and he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“I know~” you responded, jumping on your heels a bit so he could feel the jiggle of your tit in his hand and your ass on his dick, “and you clearly love it~”

Aizetsu hissed, unable to argue with you as he brought his other hand upto your chest as well, no longer fighting his desires. He was still trying to keep his noises low and if anyone noticed the two of you, they weren’t saying anything so he indulged himself as he shamelessly groped your chest. Covered by your blouse, he could still feel how soft your pretty tits were. Your size was just perfect, fitting wonderfully in his hands as he gave you a few greedy squeezes before he found your nipples. Perking out due to how turned on you were, now it was your turn to muffle your moans as Aizetsu deftly caught your hard buds between his fingers. He pinched at them gently but the friction from your layers of clothing still made your toes curl.

“Shit- if you keep moving like that-“ the man moaned, sharp teeth taking a nibble of your ear and your felt your body shiver at the intimacy, “I’ll cum in my pants!”

“Oh, not yet, Aizi.” You said sternly, “Not until you pull it out for me~”

“P-Pull it out- you don’t mean?”

“Mmhmm~ Do it Aizi? For me?”

Fuck. He knew you knew how weak he was when you said that.

Giving his surrounding one final look to make sure no one was watching and giving your tits one final squeeze, he brought his hands back to his pants. With quick movements and making sure to not push down on his clothes too much- Aizetsu pulled his dick out. His bare cock was out. Exposed completely. In a moving bus full of people.

The things he did for love.

“Oh, wow!” you gasped, turning your head back so you could have a good look at his cock. Of course, your view was limited but you liked what you saw. His cock rested between your cheeks, the position so lewd you wish you had the patience to pull your phone out and take a picture but maybe later. His cock was dripping against you, beads of pre cum pooling on the tip that was sure to stain your panties. Delicious veins ran up and down his thick shaft and while you couldn’t see them, you were sure he had big, breeding balls.

You pushed back against him once again, mewling happily as you felt his bare cock against you. Now this was a man. You gasped as Aizetsu seemed to take control for a second, his hand coming down to grip your ass cheek. You felt the blood rush to your face now as he groped you for a few seconds before he went lower and pushed your legs apart a bit. You were confused but then your suddenly felt something slip between your legs.

Oh. Oh yes.

“Wanna thigh fuck me, you naughty boy?” you asked, gently pushing your legs together so your juicy thighs could squeeeze Aizetsu’s cock. The man whimpered and nodded, his head spinning from the sensation. While he wanted nothing more than to fuck you- he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He wanted to take his time, worship your body and pleasure you back. For now, he’d settle with fucking the thighs he had dreams about before. His cock was nestled perfectly, peeking out the other side, pressed flushed against your clothed cunt and he could feel how wet you were for him.

He wasn’t going to last long.

As the bus ride continued and more people shuffled in, the two of you were lost in your own world. The two of you were pressed tighter than ever against the door, your breasts squished against the glass, all the more restricted as Aizetsu was pressed flush against you from behind. The stuffy space was made even more suffocating (in a good way this time) thanks to the pure lust you were feeling. Your needy boy was whimpering against your ear, little pleas and begs leaving his sweet mouth as he meekly thrust his hips against yours. He didn’t have much room to work with but he enjoyed himself nonetheless, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit each time he pumped forward.

It felt delectable fucking your thighs, sliding against your panty that he wished he could rip off, a pussy who was getting wetter with every thrust. Fuck the museum. Once you reached your destination, he is going to drag you to the nearest love hotel and give you the pounding you deserve for teasing him so much.

“Fuck- wait- I’m gonna cum-“ Aizetsu whimpered, eyebrows furrowed as he felt his balls twitch, “I can’t- not here- I’ll make a mess-“

“Hmmm…” you pondered, “People will definitely notice if you cum all over the bus…so I guess your only option is to cum inside me, right?”

“What?!”

You grinned back at him, Aizetsu watching with wide eyes and bated breath as you reached behind and suddenly pulled your panties to the side. He almost choked on his own saliva once your pussy was revealed to him, but due to you two being positioned to tightly against each other- he couldn’t see her. Oh, but he could feel her. He could feel your sopping wet pussy against his bare cock, the heat of your body making his eyes roll to the back of his head. Your slick immediately started to coat him as his dick slid between your folds, no longer separated by the thin layer of fabric and it felt more amazing than anything he could have ever imagined.

But before he could process anything- you reached down between your legs, gently grabbed his dick in your soft hands, and pressed his tip against your entrance.

“W-Wait- I don’t-“ Aizetsu whined, knees trembling from the sensation, “I don’t want our first time- to be- ah- like this!”

“Awww. Then just put the tip in, Aizi.” You suggested, eagerly shaking your hips but waiting for him to give you the ok, “It’s not sex if it’s just the tip. Just put it in and cum. Use me. Use my pussy like a cum bucket~”

Aizetsu quickly did as he was told, knowing that your words were enough to push him off the edge. He pushed the tip of his cock inside you just as he started to cum- his whole body trembling from pleasure. His balls clenched with each pump, unloading his seed inside your greedy pussy. It was just the tip and then some but your cunt, wrapping around him was enough to make his vision go blurry. He could only imagine how good you’d feel once he’s balls deep inside you.

You opened your mouth in a silent moan, your eyes glazed over as your felt your best friend fill you up, use your pussy like it was a paper napkin- just something to cum inside of so as to not make a mess. You couldn’t wait to really get pounded by this thick, hard cock but for now, you simply enjoyed your creampie.

After a minute or so, the two of you were still attached together, Aizetsu’s cock still inside you, plugging up the cum in your cunt. But unfortunately, you had to break up the sweet, intimate moment.

“…Aizi?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Our stop is next.”

~~~~~

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

A Rose by any Other Name

Paring: Eddie Diaz x Buck x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: First of all how do you capitalize a title, second of all considering the content of this story that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever named a fic. Third, oh boyyy do I need more Buddie x reader fics because ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ thank you so so much for this

Buck is the one who finds them. 

He had been going through your drawers at Eddie’s place, trying to find his favorite pair of basketball shorts. Shorts you’d literally told him were currently in the wash, but does he ever listen? 

He pulls open the small drawer on your bedside table and digs around for a moment, his fingers find something hard, rubber. 

“What the hell??”

He pulls on it and his mouth drops wide open 

“Eddie!!!”

Buck and Eddie are sitting together at the dining table, just… staring. Buck had found your rabbit… and your rose, and your cute yellow star vibrator. He literally laid them out on the damn table for Eddie to see 

“Where-??” Eddie gestures and Buck has his cheeks resting on his fists 

“Nightstand” 

“Ah…” Eddie nods and that’s it, that’s literally it. They’re not saying anything because how do they even process this? And there isn’t an issue, not at all. Buck has…. Things and Eddie you know won’t admit to it but he also does. But you? Having them? They’re not better than cavemen honestly, really you know horny cavemen 

“Is it bad that-?” Buck begins 

“Don’t say it” Eddie points a finger at him 

“Hear me out-“ 

“Buck I swear-“

“I want to watch her so damn badly. I need to see her using that-“

“We can’t just ask!! She’ll know you went through her stuff!”

“I didn’t mean to!! She’ll understand right?? Right maybe we can just like, like hold on I have an idea” 

And that’s how you come home to both of your boyfriends in the kitchen, listening to music and making dinner 

Together.

There’s a box on the dining table and you look at it curiously, a little “open me” note is on it. You pull the ribbon and take the lid off 

There’s a very cute baby tee, with “Daddy’s girl” written across the chest and you roll your eyes, because that was definitely Bucks' idea. You know how he feels about Spencer’s. There’s also a pair of lace panties with a waistband that says fuck me on them, absolutely Eddie’s contribution. 

“Put it on” You jump and drop the panties back into the box. Buck is standing in the doorway, a towel in his hands as he dries them and leans his shoulder against it, crossing his ankles

“Are you two serious?” 

“Oh we’re very serious” Eddie gives you a little thumbs up over Buck’s shoulder and you roll your eyes, grabbing the box 

“Alright alright fine-“ 

“Ah ah-“ Buck waggles a finger at you “Right here, please” 

Eddie stands next to him, leaning against the other side of the doorway, his back against it and you shudder in anticipation. 

“Okay” 

You take your time, peeling off your work clothes, the jeans go first, wiggling them down over your plush hips and you kick them aside 

“Bra too?” You bat your eyelashes and Buck nods 

“That would be preferable… but whatever you’re comfy with honestly” 

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it on top of your jeans and your bra goes next. Eddie hums in approval as you bend over purposely to take off your panties, dragging them all the way down your legs and wiggling your hips 

“Jesus I hate you” Eddie chuckles as he pushes off the wall to go finish dinner 

You spin around and blow him a little kiss “Love you too babe” 

You put on the new panties, enjoying the way the waistband hugs your hips, and pull the t-shirt on, adjusting it as best you can, your dark nipples so clear through the pink shirt 

“How do I look?” You ask, walking over to Buck and his breath hitches, his sexy demeanor dropping for a moment and he giggles

“Sooo fucking hot” he puts his hands on your hips, practically drooling as she squeezes your sides 

“Come on… we wanna show you something”

Buck guides you to the couch, making you sit down in his lap now and Eddie comes in and pours you a glass of your favorite mango moscato. You look between them, incredibly suspiciously as he hands you the glass 

“How was work baby?” Eddie sits on the armrest and Buck nuzzles against your neck. 

“Yeah tell us about your day” 

“Whaaaat the hell is going on?” You mutter before Eddie tips the bottom of your glass to make you take a sip 

“We just wanted to do something nice for you… when was the last time the three of us had a date?” 

“Last week? We went to the aquarium… what did you do?” 

Buck looks at Eddie who chuckles and gets up, going over behind the other chair and grabbing another pink box with a bow on it 

“We want something. There’s no conditions baby if the answer is no we can still have a cute date night okay?” 

Buck takes the box, setting it in your lap “I want to preface this by saying it was a total accident”

“What the heck are you two-“ your breath catches in your throat as you open the box and peel back the paper. Your toys are lying neatly together…next to a brand new fourth one. 

“Uhhh???” 

“We wanna watch you use em” Buck kisses your neck, smoothing his hands down your thighs, slowly opening them 

“Please? Eddie takes the new rabbit they got you, it’s a little differently shaped than your other one, you take it from him, your cheeks on fire as you turn it over in your hands 

“We asked the lady at the front desk what she recommended!” Buck says excitedly and you giggle a bit deliriously 

“She said it’s great for your G-spot and that it’s got 10 speeds,” Eddie tells you 

“And it’s rechargeable!! You can save the environment by not using batteries!” 

Eddie whacks Buck’s leg and you shake your head fast, covering your face

“If I’m going to do this…I want to go somewhere more comfortable” 

“Oh I’m so so glad you said that” Buck groans excitedly as he gets up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at the way you squeal as he runs back to the bedroom 

“Don’t drop her!” Eddie laughs as he follows after you two. Buck literally tosses you on the rose-petal-covered bed and you squeak, falling in a heap 

“Calm down!” You laugh and he shakes his head quickly 

“Are you joking? I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

There are two chairs at the end of Eddie’s bed and your mouth drops open. They both work to set the mood together, lighting a couple candles, dimming the lights, and turning them to a soft red hue. Eddie shuts the door and Buck takes his hand, pulling him over to the chairs and they sit down 

“All eyes on you baby” Eddie nods and you sigh, lying against the pillows they have set up against the headboard. Your lube is out on the bedside table along with a couple towels and some baby wipes 

“You guys really thought this through huh?” 

“Anything else you need you just ask for it” Eddie leans back, his legs spread, his arms crossed over his chest and Buck copies his stance. They both look absolutely ravenous 

“O-okay” you gulp nervously for a minute, opening your legs so your panties are on display, there’s already a small wet patch on the front and you know how Buck feels about that. You lift your hips, wriggling out of your panties, and toss them over to him. He catches them and immediately puts them in his mouth, sucking your juices off of them 

“Holy shit” you and Eddie both mumble under your breath, Buck takes them from his mouth, tossing them to the floor, and cups Eddie’s face, kissing him so he can taste you too 

Your eyes follow the little trail of spit connecting them as Buck pulls away to look at you 

“Just a little something to get you started baby girl… now come on, put on a show for us” 

You’re a bit shy at first because while they do stare at you often when having sex, Eddie is so big on eye contact, it’s never like this, where they’re literally sitting there like two hungry wolves watching their little bunny present herself up on a silver freaking platter 

There were some weekends, that you’d get together with both of them, and Buck would reduce you down to nothing but a toy. Even dressing you up exactly how he wanted you and Eddie would have to be the voice of reason telling him he couldn’t put you in a skirt that short to go to the mall in, none of you would even make it out of the house let alone to the mall where just any man could stare at your ass.

This whole little setup is definitely up their alley. 

The pillows are so soft and fluffy under you, the cases silky and pink. Even the bedding underneath you is pink. The bed is covered in beautiful rose petals and little gold flecks, and your box of toys is next to you. You reach over and grab the new one, feeling it in your hands for a second before turning it on. You giggle as it moves in your hand, it seems nice, definitely your speed, that lady knew her shit. You slide it down your chest circling your nipple slowly through your thin t-shirt, gasping softly. 

Eddie stretches, putting his arm around the back of Bucks chair, they watch you trail it over your breasts, feeling the vibrations flow through your body, your nipples hardening and making his mouth water. He lets his head fall to look at Buck, who’s got his hand sliding over Eddie’s thigh and over his cock as he watches you so intensely, his hand following the same pattern as yours 

You sit up some, getting comfy in the pillows before you rub it along the inside of your thighs, teasing yourself (and them) as you work yourself up as if you weren’t hot enough already. You spread your legs a bit more, your thighs shaking as you start to finally roll the head of your toy over your lips, gliding it along your slick center as you pant softly 

“Oh god…” you moan as you reach over to the table for the little bottle of lube, it’s a new one, strawberry flavored and you snort 

“Buck!” 

“Hey, it could have been Eddie!! He loves strawberries!!” 

“Was it Eddie?” You ask as you pour it on the toy and Eddie shrugs 

“Oh yeah no it was definitely me”

“See!! You owe me an apology” Buck scoffs and you grin, waving the toy at him

“I’ll let you lick it clean when I’m done” 

Both of their mouths drop open as you slip it inside you, adjusting your body in the pillows so it goes in all the way, you feel the little head working your clit while it massages your gspot and your back nearly arches completely off the bed 

You moan loudly, pumping the toy in and out of you, your hips rocking slowly in time with it “Oh fuck yes!” you cry, your thighs shaking as you grip the sheets with your other hand 

Buck unzips Eddie’s jeans, pulling his cock out, grinning at the way it pops out at him, fully hard, his tip blushing red and dripping with precum already. 

“You too” Eddie grins, fumbling with Buck's zipper and finally pulling his cock out, you groan softly as it springs out, staring at your two boys 

“Don’t stop baby, god please keep fucking yourself” Eddie’s voice is deep and gravelly as Buck strokes his cock, he spits on the tip, dragging it down his fast and you whine, your hips bucking on the toy. You spread your legs wider, plunging the toy in and out faster as both men get each other off in time with you. 

“Please please please come over here and cum on me, please!” Your voice is high-pitched as you get closer and closer, the vibrations on your clit nearly clawing you apart 

They get up from their chairs, immediately crashing into each other, Eddie forces Buck against the wall, shoving his jeans all the way down and fisting his cock, pumping it in tandem with your whining and moaning. Buck rips Eddie’s shirt off, throwing it somewhere, and pushes him backward until they hit the bed. Eddie falls back and Buck climbs on top of him, grinding his cock against Eddie’s 

He looks up at you, your eyes wide, your mouth open, the toy still working you as you have it in you as deep as possible, but you’re paying a little less attention to it and a lot more attention to them. He reaches over, pulling it from between your legs and stroking Eddie’s cock with it. 

“C’mere baby” Eddie reaches for you, his hips jerking against the vibrator and you scramble over to him, kissing him frantically, he holds your face, it’s all teeth and tongue, messily making out with you. Your ass is in the air Buck rubs his hand over it, giving it a smack before sliding your toy back in your pussy and fucking you slowly with it 

You cry into Eddie’s mouth as he holds you against him, his tongue lapping at yours. Buck pushes the toy in further and you feel the little head stimulating somewhere else, somewhere new and that’s all it takes. You fall forward grinding into the bed beneath you, your body writhing as you sob for them, cumming all over the sheets. Buck turns it up two more and you claw at Eddie, gasping loudly your entire body shaking and overstimulated 

“Shit shit shit!” You chant, fucking yourself against the bed, Buck grabs Eddie’s cock, stroking quickly in time with you, and he cums over your back, he grunts loudly, jerking his hips into Buck's hand over and over making Buck cum hands free, Eddie laughs as he reaches out, stroking him too, watching as his cum splatters across your back. He falls over on the bed next to you two dramatically and puts two thumbs in the air 

“That was awesome” 

You’re still wriggling in the sheets, gasping and Eddie sits up 

“Shit- shit sorry” He reaches over, pulling your toy from you and shutting it off, it leaves a sticky trail as he pulls it away, handing it over to Buck who eagerly takes it, licking your juices off and moaning around it, your eyes widen as he swallows part of it, fucking his throat with it 

“You taste so fucking good” he moans, putting the toy down on the bed and you giggle, rolling over so you’re on your back

“That was….” You pant softly into the covers and Eddie nods 

“Too fucking good… how you feelin'?” 

“Why?” You crane your neck to look over at him as Buck gets up, pulling your legs toward him as he strokes his cock slowly 

“Because we uh…had one more request-“ 

“What kind of request?” You ask curiously, watching Buck rub the inside of your thighs slowly 

“Both of us? At the same time?” 

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — xxii. don't fall (literally)

(wc: aroundd 1.1k)

click. flash! 

you whip your head to the source of the sound, watching as suna lowers the camera from his face before inspecting the image he took of you. 

"is that me?" you ask. suna gives you an affirmative hum, leaning forward before you can even ask if you could take a look.

you're not exactly sure if it's because of his hidden talent in photography or the fact that he had known you for quite some time, but the way he perfectly captured your angle makes your lips part in awe. "that's a nice picture," you praise. 

"it is,” he answers contentedly.

your eyes glaze over the picture once more. it takes you a moment before you realize how little the distance got between you and suna—your eyes flicker up to his, still trained on his camera, and you’re so close you can count every one of his thin eyelashes.

you immediately sit up on the speedboat, back straight and hands politely on your lap. suna doesn’t notice. he keeps his eyes glued to the screen, pressing a few buttons to zoom in on the details. his actions make you a little nervous.

"you still use the same one?" you ask, referring to the camera in his hands. suna meets your gaze with innocence, his lips pressing into a slight pout when he nods yes. he looks like a kid caught red-handed, yet you're not exactly sure why. not knowing what else to say, you divert your eyes from him and settle on the islands you pass by.

"you still remember," he states rather than asks. his eyebrows raise inquisitively when you let out a low chuckle, a soft smile gracing your lips as you did. "of course i do," he doesn't have to think twice to know what you're talking about, "there was a time where that thing was in my face, like, every day."

a shy smile tugged at the corners of suna's mouth, eyes softening at the memory. it was during your sophomore year in college, a bit after kuroo's birthday party, when he asked if you'd be willing to be the centerpiece for his project in one of his elective classes. he came to you under the guise of needing to pull his grade up, but, really, all he wanted was an excuse to get you to talk to him again; to know you more without the speculating, teasing eyes of the miya twins.

“can’t believe you still continued that,” you murmur more to yourself, but it reaches suna’s ears.

“what do you mean?” his brows draw together, confused. the waves are getting stronger now, you notice.

adjusting yourself in your seat, you turn to face him once more. all the amusement and nostalgia drain from your features when you blink back at suna. “well, it seemed like you didn’t have time for anything else besides volleyball,” you shrug like it was obvious.

his eye twitches slightly in annoyance. is this really where you’re going? “i have a life, you know.”

“yeah, on the court,” you scoff.

“that’s not funny.”

“i’m not trying to be.”

“well, maybe if you stuck around, you’d know that we didn’t really have to sacrifice anything.” suna narrows his eyes at you, staring you down like an opponent on the court. it makes you uncomfortable, small. he had always looked at you this way whenever you two fought and you hated it. you hate it even more now.

your grip on the seat tightens as the boat rocked slightly. suna sees the second hurt flash in your eyes but it disappears quickly, replaced by something more distant and cold. guilt brews in the pits of his stomach but he doesn’t let his true emotions show through.

“hey,” you say, tone laced with guilt, feeding more onto the heavy burden knawing at his insides, “do you actually blame me? for the breakup?”

no. “i do.” suna pushes away the regret as soon as the words leave his lips, “we were supposed to talk. you had my hopes up.”

“i had your hopes up?” you croak back to him, almost lurching forward when the waves push and pull on the speedboat. suna kept his expression stoic, hands stubbornly glued to his side even as the boat rocked violently.

“you didn’t even—“ you cut yourself off with a frustrated huff, struggling to grasp how, until now, suna couldn’t even at least think about your side of the breakup. the boat operator pushes the throttle forward, prompting you to tighten your grip on the seats as the boat moves faster. “you didn’t even say the words!” your voice wavered, rising with the clash of the waves.

suna’s hand flies to the railing for balance. his eyebrows creased as more water droplets landed on his face, frustration evident in his eyes. “what words?”

“those words—“ a particularly large wave crashes onto your side of the speedboat, “fuck! the words you never said!” the words you wanted to hear. the words you needed him to say.

suna throws you a sarcastic smile, “that’s great, genius! i clearly know what you’re talking about.”

your jaw drops to the floor, mind deciding whether to categorize your ex as insensitive or just plain stupid. “are you fucking doing this on purpose?!”

the man across you tilts his head to the side, puzzled. plain stupid it is.

you try to stand up—tell the operator to turn back because clearly reuniting with your ex is a bad omen enough for weddings—but as soon as you get up on your feet, the operator pushes the throttle once more, cheekily shouting, “we’re speeding up!”

you tumble backward. the cold water engulfs you before you realize you’ve fallen off the boat. some of the water enters your nostrils but you kick your feet, eagerly persisting to the surface. you gasp for oxygen once you’ve broken through, heaving as you tried to stay afloat.

luckily, you see the boat just a short distance away from you. a few feet behind it was suna, speedily swimming in your direction.

“you fell off too?” you ask once he’s an arm’s length near you. you had to remind yourself that you were mid-argument when he pushes his hair back with one hand, gulping as you try not to stare so much.

but you quickly become confused when he shakes his head no. “i went to get you,” he tells you breathlessly.

a moment of silence dawns over you, save for the sound of the speedboat getting closer and suna trying to catch his breath. the egotistical part of him cheers silently, thinking that he had finally done something right. but you break that thought down when you suddenly hit the water between you, suna having to shield his face from the splash.

“i can swim, you idiot!” you exclaim.

though the ocean is freezing against his skin, it dissipates into nothing when he flushes a dark red. “i don’t know!” he tells you, seemingly annoyed at himself for diving into the water almost immediately—embarrassingly—after you did, “i mean, i know, but i just— i just did, okay?”

is he seriously mad right now? he looks mad, and it only fuels your frustration even more. he narrows his eyes at you before sharply looking away, huffing. you do the same.

the sound of the speedboat grows louder, as did the worried shouts of the operator. the man gives you his coat, apologizing to suna with the promise of getting you back to the hotel as quickly as possible.

you refuse to look at suna the whole time, not when you’re just as red as he is.

prev — masterlist — next

notes angry pouty blushy sunayn served! sorry for the long wait i had a bit of a writer’s block + college T__T

tags @ilyless @strxwberri-s @bbybibi @trash-master-3000 @milesmoralesluvs @hanniemylovelyquokka @nbcvs @crispchocolates @cnnmairoll @tojirin @ryuverse @megumiif @chemiru @theycallmenanamisgirl @neoclb @krissiekris @nyxlai @tsukiran @frvppe @le000xxgrd @kr1nqu @kunihaver @toges-cough-syrup @myromanempiree @baskin-robinhoods @jeongintwt @itsdragonius @moucheslove @ichcocat @miiyas @samuel1004 @reignsaway @sonicsolos @httpshoyo

[sun-kissy]

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Extra Warning! This chapter touches on Whitney's serious mental health struggles. It’s brief but dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and DNI. <3

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 17 - 'Release’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.8k

The next morning felt like a slow unraveling of time, every second stretching into a lazy, intimate eternity. You could feel the dull ache of your hangover pulsing behind your temples, but it was softened by the warmth of Jude’s body against yours, the weight of his arm draped protectively over your waist. His skin was warm, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm that you matched unconsciously. The sheets beneath you were a tangled mess, but you didn’t care. The scent of last night still lingered in the room—a mix of his cologne, your perfume, and something indescribably you, together. You blinked slowly, your eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his eyelashes fluttered just slightly in his sleep. His lips, still swollen from your kisses the night before, were parted just enough to reveal the soft exhale of his breath. You smiled to yourself, feeling the pull of something deeper in your chest, something that made your heart feel both full and weightless at the same time. He was everything in this moment. Peaceful, beautiful, untouchable by the outside world. You felt safe here, cocooned in this space with him. Without thinking, your fingers drifted up, lightly tracing the outline of his face, memorizing every angle. The perfect slope of his nose, the sharp line of his cheekbone, the softness of his lips. It was like looking at a work of art, but one that you were lucky enough to hold, to touch. Jude squinted one eye open, catching you in the act. His lips curved into a sleepy smirk, the kind that always made your stomach flip. 

“It’s impolite to stare,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep, but there was amusement laced in his words.

“I wasn’t staring,” you replied, your voice playful. “I was admiring.” You giggled softly, caught, but not embarrassed. He chuckled under his breath, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer into his chest, burying his face into your hair. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. Just the two of you, wrapped in the aftermath of the night before, tangled up in each other. But even as his body relaxed against yours, you could feel a subtle shift in him. His arms held you tighter, almost protectively, and the lightness of the moment seemed to dim just slightly. His breathing was steady, but you could sense his mind wasn’t as quiet as it seemed. Jude’s thoughts were miles away, replaying moments from the night before. As much as he loved the way things had unfolded in bed—the passion, the connection, the way you melted into him—his mind kept circling back to the bar at the party. To the man who had cornered you, who had dared to touch you in his absence. He hated how it made him feel—both protective and vulnerable at the same time. He had always been confident, but seeing someone else invade your space had hit something deep within him. He shifted slightly, his hand drifting down your back, fingers splayed over your bare skin as if grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him, safe. But his mind wouldn’t stop spinning. He loved that you needed him, that you trusted him to take care of you. But a creeping worry nagged at him—what had you been like before he arrived? How often had you been in situations like that, with men who didn’t respect boundaries, who tried to blur lines? His jaw tightened at the thought. He knew you were independent, that you could handle yourself. But the idea of anyone else putting you in a position where you felt vulnerable, where you were uncomfortable, made his stomach twist with unease. He didn’t want to be controlling—he wasn’t controlling—but the protective instinct in him was stronger than anything else. You noticed the slight tension in his body, the way his hand gripped you a little more firmly, and you glanced up at him. His eyes were closed again, but there was something there, behind his serene expression, something he wasn’t saying. “Jude,” you whispered softly, tracing your finger over his chest, “are you okay?” He opened his eyes, blinking down at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but then closing again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” He didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to burden you with the thoughts swirling in his mind. Instead, he forced a smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“About what?” You raised a brow, not entirely convinced but trying not to press.  His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, he almost told you everything. Almost let the flood of emotions spill out. But instead, he kissed your forehead, holding you a little tighter. 

“Just about how lucky I am,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “To have you here with me.” You smiled, your heart swelling at his words, but there was still a hint of worry behind your gaze. You could tell something was on his mind, something he wasn’t ready to share just yet. But for now, you let it be. You stayed curled up against him, letting the morning stretch out in quiet intimacy, the world outside your little bubble fading away .And as the silence lingered, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his heart beating beneath your hand, steady and sure, just like him but then Jude’s uncertainty came to a head.

“Angel… Can I ask you something?”Jude cooed gently, almost hesitantly. You hummed agreeing to let him. “Why did you use to go out so much before?” he asked again, more softly this time, his thumb grazing the back of your hand as if to encourage you to open up. Jude’s question hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. The warmth of his body against yours was a stark contrast to the coolness of the question, but it did little to calm the nerves building inside you. You shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to think of how to answer, but everything felt so complicated, so much harder to explain than it seemed.

“Why did you?” you threw back, hoping to deflect, but Jude didn’t smile. You tried to play it off at first, giggling lightly. His face remained serious, though not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable—more like he was trying to understand something about you, something he didn’t yet know. He let out a long sigh, his eyes flicking away from yours for a moment, like he was sifting through memories. 

“I guess I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You know… with everything, being a footballer, it just felt like part of it. Being out, being seen. I had the ability to.”  His words felt real, like a confession, but they were laced with a casualness that didn’t quite touch the weight of what you were about to share. You swallowed, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers playing with the hem of the blanket. 

“I… I don’t know if you’d want my real answer,” you murmured, looking away from him, your voice catching a little in your throat. You didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to expose that part of yourself, the version of you that had been so lost before Jude. Jude’s hand gently cupped your chin, guiding your face back toward him. 

“I do. I really do,” he whispered. His eyes were soft, searching yours with such tenderness it nearly broke you. You let out a shaky breath, your words stumbling as you tried to explain. 

“Wel, I guess similarly I had the ability to. I had the access and I think... I did it to feel something. I just wanted emotional freedom. But it wasn’t just that.” You took a deep breath reflecting momentarily.  “It was like... I wanted to feel in control of something in my life. Everything and I mean everything has been set for me even down to the way I was supposed to feel. I know I was privileged but I had… I had no freedom to do anything but what they told me to do and say and… feel. Everything else felt so out of reach, but when I was out—when I was drinking or dancing or being with people—I could control how I felt. I got to decide. Or, at least, I thought I could.” You sighed. The vulnerability of what you just said hung in the air between you two, and you couldn’t meet his eyes. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, bracing for his response. Jude stayed quiet for a long moment, his hand resting on your waist. The pressure of his touch wasn’t intense, just enough to let you know he was there, listening, absorbing every word. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your skin, a motion that soothed you, even though you still felt exposed. Finally, he hummed softly, like he was processing everything you’d said. “Does that bother you?” you asked quietly, a touch of fear slipping into your voice.Jude shook his head slowly, his hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and deliberate. 

“No, angel. It doesn’t bother me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I get it. I do. It’s just… it’s different now because you’re mine. It makes me a bit nervous to imagine it all.” He paused, his words sinking in as he continued. “I just want to be the one looking out for you. Making sure you’re okay. That’s all.” There was so much love in his voice, so much sincerity, and yet, a tiny spark of something else flickered inside you. Annoyance, maybe even frustration. Jude’s past hadn’t exactly been squeaky clean either. Actually far from it and while he was trying to be protective, part of you felt like there was a double standard.

“It’s just... you went out a lot too, you know?” you said, your voice quieter than before. “You’ve had your wild nights. I know that.” You tried to swallow it down, but the feeling nagged at you. Jude sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before letting it fall back to your side.

“I know, I know,” he admitted. “I mean I wasn’t perfect either. But now, it just feels different. Now that I love you—now that you’re mine—I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do that anymore.” You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat feeling a bit defeated by his comment. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I just want you to be safe, that’s all,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded, but the tension was still there, lingering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand where he was coming from, but the past was complicated. You had done what you had to, lived how you felt you needed to. It didn’t change how you felt about him now, but it was hard not to feel a little defensive. Still, you stayed in his arms, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the unease in your chest. As much as it frustrated you, you also knew that Jude just wanted to take care of you. You were his angel, his glass angel, and he was terrified of anything breaking you. The tension in the room was still palpable though, despite the soft light of the morning filtering through the curtains. You lay there, your head still throbbing from the night before, your body half-draped onto Jude. You annoyance in the silence began to grew the longer it continued. The conversation had taken a sharp turn, and the last thing you wanted was to revisit it now. But Jude was insistent. The weight of the argument settled over you both, heavier than the hangover that gripped your body. He was being hypocritical, and you both knew it. Jude’s wild past was no secret. He had a reputation before you, and the irony of his discomfort now, as your boyfriend, was glaring. The frustration bubbled up inside you, sharp and sudden, as he told you he didn’t like the idea of other men being part of your past. It was as if, now that he loved you, your history wasn’t just yours—it was something that unsettled him, something he wished he could rewrite. When he told you, in that controlled tone of his, that you didn’t need to act that way for control in your life, it felt like a slap. 

“I didn’t need to do anything, Jude. It was a release.” Your response was slow but sharp. You could see it in his face—he hated that. Hated that you had any other outlet before him. You weren’t sure if it was possessiveness or just his own discomfort with the idea that you had a life before him, a past that wasn’t his to control. 

“Angel…  I just don’t like...” And when he started to say more, you cut him off, words spilling out before you could stop them.

“Jude…” Your heart sank a little, not because you didn’t understand where he was coming from, but because you could already feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on you both. 

“I know,” he interrupted you now, sitting up slightly, his back against the headboard. He pulled you with him, settling you in his lap so you were facing him now. His hands rested on your hips, holding you in place as he looked at you, the frustration evident in his eyes. “I know it’s hypocritical. I’ve been with other people before you…” He said it and you winced at the reminder. He took a deep breath feeling your body shift. “I don’t get to sit here and judge you. But…”

“But you don’t like it,” you finished for him, your tone a little sharper than you intended. “You don’t like…” You tried to keep talking but couldn’t get your next word out. He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. 

“It’s not that,” he muttered. “It’s not about your past. I just… I don’t like thinking about you having to deal with other men. The way he was all over you last night… it makes me feel— Angel, I don’t like…” He then paused. You two were tired and clearly terribly out of sync this morning. 

“What— so you don’t like me?” You snapped. It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a challenge, an accusation, something loaded with all the weight of the conversation that had spiraled out of control. Jude’s face was unamused, and the silence between you both stretched long, punctuated only by the dull pounding in your head. You closed your eyes, trying to will away the argument, the headache, the ache in your chest. This morning was starting to feel like a pendulum and it was doing your head in. You moved off his lap to try to lay back down  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you muttered, the exhaustion and hangover catching up to you. But Jude wasn’t ready to let it go. He sat up further shifting beneath you, his movement forcing you to adjust. You stayed where you were, awkwardly slipping to lie on his stomach, your body suddenly feeling too heavy, too cumbersome. You could sense his frustration, his own internal struggle with what he wanted to say versus what he knew he should say. The air was thick with unspoken words, with everything he couldn’t articulate but felt deeply. And then, without warning, his hand smoothed over your hair, a gentle gesture that contrasted with the tension in the room. He ran his fingers through your strands before slipping his hands under your arms, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. 

“Come here, please,” he said, his voice softer now, less commanding. He picked you up underneath your arms. He pulled you, cradling you against his chest, and kissed your forehead. The simple, tender act made your heart twist, even though the argument still hung heavy between you. Jude sighed, the sound heavy with frustration but also a sort of resignation. He held you tightly, his forehead resting against yours, and for a moment, the world felt smaller, quieter. “I know I’m being hypocritical,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. There was a vulnerability in his voice that you weren’t used to, something that softened the edges of his frustration. You didn’t say anything, just raised a brow in question. His gaze dropped for a moment, and then he corrected himself, his words a little more measured this time. “I’m not trying to judge you. I love you because of who you are, angel. I love you so so much. You have no idea how much. But that doesn’t mean I have to like everything. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the right words, trying to avoid another misstep. His hand stroked your hair again, a grounding gesture, as if it was as much for him as it was for you. “I just can’t ever be okay with the idea of another man with you, I can’t be.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know It might be irrational, but I can’t help it. And you’ll never convince me that it’s okay. You’re not for anyone else. Not like this. Not how you are with me.” You could almost hear the lump in his throat. You felt his chest rise and fall beneath you, his words hanging in the air. There was no easy answer, no quick fix to the discomfort that had been dredged up. You knew this wasn’t about logic or fairness—it was about feelings, raw and messy, the kind that couldn’t be reasoned away.  You stayed silent, not because you agreed or disagreed, but because there was nothing left to say. You understood where he was coming from, even if it frustrated you, even if it made you want to cry, even if it made you maybe, in a way, fall more in love with him, maybe that was just all okay. Jude kissed your forehead again, lingering this time, as if trying to reassure both of you. The moment wasn’t resolved, not completely, but for now, the tenderness between you both was enough to push the tension aside. You let yourself relax into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your hand. In the quiet, you both held on, knowing that love wasn’t always neat or easy, but it was still worth fighting for. In the quiet of the morning, you both stayed there, tangled together, not needing to say anything more for the moment. You’d figure it out, just like you always did. But for now, you rested in the safety of his arms, your world a little bit smaller, a little bit quieter.

Those reckless nights that Jude worried so much about had blurred together like neon lights through the backseat of a cab—each city a new playground where the rules bent to your will. In Paris, it was champagne-soaked evenings, stumbling through gilded doors of exclusive clubs with men whose names you’d forget by morning. London brought afterparties that stretched past dawn, in penthouses overlooking a city you never quite saw clearly, a haze of smoke and bass thrumming through your veins like lifeblood. New York had you draped over velvet ropes, your name at the top of every list, no price too steep, no bottle too extravagant as the night unfolded in a rhythm you could control. Money was never a concern—astronomical bills for VIP tables stacked high with magnums of Dom Pérignon, each receipt a quiet testament to nights you could barely remember, but that everyone else would talk about. There were yacht parties under Mediterranean skies with royals, laughter echoing over the water as you sipped expensive cocktails and listened to whispered secrets of lines in bathrooms you had no intention of keeping. The Grand Prix’s were whirlwinds of celebrities and luxury, where your dress shimmered under camera flashes, but it didn’t matter who was watching because you were the one writing the narrative. You called it fun, called it glamorous, and in moments, it was. It was the kind of sexy that dripped like honey off your lips as you laughed, knowing everyone wanted to be in your orbit, but the truth was, it was all smoke and mirrors. You could control the nights—the drinks, the men, the parties—but they couldn’t touch the fragile core of who you really were. That part of you stayed locked away, hidden beneath the surface, a delicate glass angel no one could break because you refused to let them see her. And so you lived recklessly, dancing on the edge of something dangerous, but always pulling back before it got too real. You’d stay out till five in the morning to then go to your pilates class by seven. You floated through those nights untouched, safe in the illusion you’d built, keeping the world at arm’s length. It was a way to feel everything and nothing all at once, to forget just long enough to make it through. But deep down, even as you laughed and spun through the chaos, you knew you were only hiding—preserving the part of yourself too delicate to be exposed to the world you moved through so effortlessly. Now you wish they would all just slip into the abyss accept one of your wildest evenings… the one where you had met Jude. 

You and Jude were curled up on the couch, legs intertwined under a shared blanket. The soft hum of the city far outside faded into the background as you reminisced, your head resting on Jude’s chest, his fingers absentmindedly running over your hair. You tilted your head up to look at him, eyes shining with a playful curiosity. You giggled softly, your mind drifting back to that night in Greece. The memory was warm and vivid, like the sun-kissed air from that trip. You shifted in Jude's arms, your laughter making him smile, his curious eyes asking what you were thinking about.

“Do you remember the night we met in Greece?” you asked, biting your lip, still amused by how it all began. Jude’s smile widened, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. 

“How could I forget? That might have the best dinner of my life,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. He joined the dinner table at the small restaurant, said hello to Whitney and Trent, Marcel, and sat down far from you. You were flustered he even was there in the flesh. You knew the face well, crushed from afar and eventually knew him as your best friend's boyfriend’s friend and there he was playing it far too cool at the restaurant.

“I couldn’t believe you were there. I should’ve known. Whit didn’t say a word about you joining the trip,” you continued, your eyes meeting his as you recounted the story. Jude nodded, amused. 

“Yeah, subtly is not a strong suit of hers but she managed that one,” he teased, his hand gently squeezing your side. “She’s sweet though. I’m a great surprise to be fair.” He smirked. You laughed, recalling how it all unfolded. 

“I mean don’t be too cocky… You wouldn’t even say anything!” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t think I forgot about that awful attempt at a wink before Whit introduced us. I was ready to burst out laughing!” You joked. He giggled though now and then Jude groaned, shaking his head with a grin. 

“Yeah, okay, that wink was terrible. I panicked!” he admitted, laughing at himself. 

“It was cute though,” you reassured him, still smiling at the memory. “You didn’t introduce yourself, though which was rude. You just strolled in like you were some big deal.” You giggled. “Sat at the other end of the table trying to be cool.” You teased, raising an eyebrow sarcastically. You felt a warmth fill your chest recalling the dinner you met Jude for the first time at.  

“Yeah, but you knew I was keeping an eye on you,” he countered, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. 

“I know,” you said, eyes sparkling with mischief. You giggled, nudging him with your elbow. 

“I’d go as far as to say every man that saw you that night had eyes on you,” Jude added, his voice dropping, a mix of pride and possessiveness seeping into his words. Jude made it sound as if he had won a contest. To be fair… he did win you over. 

“They always do,” you responded nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at your lips and a bit of a smugness.

“Yeah,” Jude murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing the top of your head, “but you are for me, baby.” He cooed.

“I always have been,” you whispered back, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around your heart. He tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his expression suddenly serious, though his eyes danced with amusement. “You knew that from the jump, though. Be honest—did you think you had me?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.” Jude told you with a serious confident expression.

“Shut the fuck up! You were stumbling over words. It took you a whole dinner, and Whit’s introduction for you to even talk to me!” You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Nah, I’m just joking, angel,” he laughed, pulling you closer, “but I liked that about you. You weren’t easy. You let me think I got to pass go but then I didn’t get to collect 200. It was like the most confusing addiction. I needed to finish the game.” Jude mumbled out a metaphor about how you had him interested from the jump. You laughed, leaning your forehead against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your skin.

 “Good,” you said, looking up at him, “I liked keeping you on your toes.”

“And I loved every second of it,” he whispered, his hand trailing down your back, settling around your waist. “Still do.”

“What was weird about that holiday though, it was like I could feel it all shift. It felt like the moon was pulling the tides differently—like something big was happening, even though we had just met. It’s strange. Like at the time, I wanted it to be maybe a fuck but… I guess the world had other plans.” You sighed with a smile.  Jude nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

“I felt it too, angel. From that moment, I knew something was different and I knew I was trying to push it down but it did feel a little like we were meant to be in the same place, at the same time.” Jude cooed. You smiled, resting your head on his chest again, feeling the weight of those early moments between you. It was the start of something you hadn’t fully understood at the time, but now, looking back, it was clear how everything had been leading you to this.

“Guess we owe Whit a bit of thank you though. Love of my life, good sex and a holiday… what a girl.” You giggled. Jude held you tight to him but both of you went quiet for a minute. You both breathed a bit deeper the words ‘what a girl’ echoing in your head. Whitney was amazing. She was your best friend, she was a sister, a daughter, a mother, a fiance, an overall amazing person but there was one person who couldn’t see any of that… her. You’d met at uni and you’d never made a friend faster. She was everything you’d ever want and need in a best friend who then became like your sister. You were very different and very much so the same all at once.  

Semi recently, Whitney and Trent had a fight… sort of. It wasn’t even really a fight as much as it was a miscommunication, a bubbling over of Whitney’s past coming to the surface, the stress of her baby, a wedding, the pressure’s of being in the spotlight as the fiance of a famous footballer. You had gone back to New York the other week after your trip to Paris with Jude when Marcel had called you. To be honest, you almost didn’t answer considering you were now dating Jude and you were nervous why he was calling but in retrospect you were beyond thankful you did answer. He asked if you had heard from Whitney. You hadn’t. You hadn’t even heard about her and Trent’s tiff yet let alone that she was back in the country. So you hurried the fastest you possibly could up to her apartment, the urgency in Marcel’s voice made you incredibly nervous. Your worst fear fueling your speed. And as you sat in the back of that Uber, your leg impatiently bouncing, you recalled one of those rare weekends back in uni that made Marcel’s call all the more worrisome. 

It was a moment when the city slowed down just enough to escape, Whitney and you had gone to her parents’ beach house. The air there felt cleaner, lighter—a break from the rush of Manhattan life. But as quickly as it came, the weekend ended, and soon you were back in the city, back to reality, not knowing how heavy that reality would hit. A parasite of a boy Whitney had been seeing at the time, pre-Trent, had came over the night you returned. You opened the door, his cocky grin almost made you shut it in his face. He wasn’t good for her—he never had been—but Whitney was already in deep with him. He was handsome, and their chemistry was toxic in a way she couldn’t escape. He was a distraction, a bad habit Whitney couldn’t break. But then again, it wasn’t just him. It was everything—the cocktails of alcohol, expectations, her body dysmorphia, years and years of layered health issues and whatever else Whitney needed to numb herself to the world. And so the next morning, the silence in the apartment was eerie. Normally, you’d hear Whitney moving around, already planning the day ahead. But that day? Nothing. The pit in your stomach began to grow, but you tried to shake it off. She was probably just sleeping in, exhausted from the weekend. Still, something didn’t sit right. You walked down the hall to her room, the air thick with the staleness of last night’s decisions. Knocking softly, you called her name. No answer. Your pulse quickened. You pushed the door open. The sight that greeted you felt like a punch to the gut. There was Whitney, lying limply on her bed, a sickening mixture of vomit and bile coating the sheets. She was barely conscious, her skin pale, her breathing shallow. The drop in your stomach was immediate, a visceral, uncontrollable panic that tore through you.

“Whitney!” you screamed, rushing to her side. Your hands shook as you grabbed her, trying to shake her awake. Tears began streaming down your face, but she was barely responsive. “Whitney, wake up! Please!” You fumbled for your phone, tears blurring your vision as you scrolled to Winnie’s number, hitting call with trembling fingers. When Winnie picked up, the panic in your voice was undeniable. “Whitney’s—she’s—oh my God, she’s not waking up. She’s in her own—” you couldn’t finish the sentence. Winnie’s voice coming from the other side of the line but you couldn’t focus enough to make any of her words out as you sobbed, holding Whitney’s limp hand. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time someone had found Whitney like this. But it felt different this time. The weight of it, the helplessness. You couldn’t help but feel a mix of rage and heartbreak. Rage at Chase, rage at Whitney, but mostly, heartbreak for the situation you were all in. “She did it on purpose,” you whispered, the realization sinking in as you watched her chest rise and fall shallowly. It wasn’t about Chase, not really. It was never about him. This was Whitney’s way of coping, of controlling what little she could, even if it meant self-destruction. When the ambulance came, the room felt cold, sterile. They took her, again, and you were left there—helpless. It was a cycle. She’d be discharged soon enough, just like before, and everything would move on. Life would continue. But you stayed, frozen in that moment, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened.

And so as you unlocked the door to Whitney and Trent’s apartment in Manhattan and walked inside you were confused. The apartment was empty. It was quiet until you heard water moving in the bathroom. You found Whitney under the surface of the water of the tub, your figure blurred above the water beside it. You frenziedly reached into the full tub and yanked her out aggressively immediately wrapping her in your arms over the ledge. Her soaking wet naked body drenching your dry clothes. 

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on!?!?!” You screamed, starting to uncontrollably cry. You shook her shoulders trying to get her to come to and answer you. You were absolutely terrified and rightfully so. “Okay, okay. Jesus!” You ran your hands over your face in panic and shock. “You’re gonna be fine. I’ll… erm… I’ll call T.” You rattled off trying to think what to do. You knew that her upset over things with Trent was what this was about.  Not what Trent had done, but her response to her own being. You had rushed to her apartment without hesitation when Marcel called, finding her in a state that was all too familiar, but still just as devastating. She had relapsed, and it had shaken you to your core. After… it was a routine you didn’t want to know. You had gotten Whitney to sleep for a little. She hadn’t slept for days and so once you got her to you stepped to the other room for a moment to yourself. You reached for your phone, dialing Jude. He was the only person you wanted then and as unfortunate as the situation was… at least this time you had him.

And now, weeks later, Whitney was as fine as she could be. Safe back home with Trent. Her health couldn’t be fixed but managed. Something she’d continually work to upkeep, heal and improve and whilst you were beyond happy and relieved she was okay. Relieved she had Trent and her little girl, Teddy, to support her, love her,  it weighed heavily on you. The worry sat like an elephant on your chest as you curled up on the couch, staring blankly ahead. You hadn’t seen Whitney since her lowest, after that terrifying night in New York and now Jude was the only one that could give you any sort of peace. When you had called him after the incident, his voice was warm, comforting, but you could sense the concern in it. He had been so supportive when you first told him what happened, offering whatever reassurance he could, but now, the weight of it was still pressed down on you.

"Do you think she's okay?" you asked, your voice small, laden with the fear that had been gnawing at you. “I’m so worried.” You murmured. You didn’t expect Jude to have the extensive context, the depth you understood Whitney’s situation with but he was empathetic and he loved Whitney. This hurt him too. Jude sighed softly, the room going quiet for a moment before he answered. 

“I talked to Trent this morning,” he said, his voice steady, but you could hear the underlying tension. “He said she’s doing better. They’re taking it day by day.” Jude kissed your temple. You nodded, but it didn’t ease the knot in your stomach. 

“That’s good. I know it’s good but...” Your words trailed off as you stared at the ceiling, feeling the helplessness wash over you again. “It’s just... it’s not enough, you know? She’s been through this before, I told you,  and I—I don’t know what else to do.” You frowned. 

“I know, angel,” he said gently. “I know it’s hard. But you’ve done everything you can. You got her home. You got her safe.” Jude hummed softly, his attempt at finding the right words hanging in the air. “Trent’s got her.” He cooed. 

“But what if it happens again? What if... next time...” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your knees. Jude moved to hold you as you held yourself.  Jude’s voice softened even further, the concern he felt for both you and Whitney clear. 

“There won’t be a next time. And if things turn again we’ll deal with that if it comes. But you can’t carry all of this on your own, angel. Trent’s there. They’ll take care of her. Their family, doctors, she’s even got little Ted, it’s gonna be okay.” He sympathetically smiled. You bit your lip, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. You knew he was right it just hurt. God it hurt so bad. 

 “I know... but she’s my best friend, Jude. I just can’t shake this fear. I couldn’t do it without her. She can’t do that to me.” Jude sighed again, the sound a mix of empathy and frustration at the helplessness of the situation. 

“You’re her best friend too. You’ve been there for her when she needed you most. You’ve already done so much. Just keep being there, like you always have been. She needs you.” His words were meant to soothe, but the tightness in your chest remained. 

“Yeah... you’re right,” you whispered, though it didn’t feel like enough. The fear, the worry—it was still there, lingering. But you knew Jude was right. You had to trust that Whitney would get through this, and that you would be there for her, no matter what came next. You sat on the couch next to Jude, his arm resting along the back, fingers tracing gentle patterns over your shoulder. The soft hum of the city outside barely filtered through the thick curtains, but inside, the quiet between you was almost suffocating. Your thoughts swirled, your mind drifting back to Whitney, to her pain, and the weight of it pressed against your chest like a heavy stone. "Do you know why I like Whit?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to carry more than just curiosity, a sort of fatigue and sadness wrapped around them. Jude looked at you, his expression softening. He knew you well enough by now to sense when something was really on your mind, and this was one of those moments. 

"I mean, I feel like..." he trailed off, half-smirking in his usual way, trying to lighten your mood with just a hint of teasing. Liking something about her seemed small when she was your best friend so Jude was just trying to be silly. But this wasn’t the moment for it. Not this time. You sighed deeply, your chest rising and falling as you searched for the right words. 

"No, I mean... she just..." You paused, rubbing your fingers together in a nervous motion. "She’s the kind of person who, even if she doesn’t agree with you, she’ll still stand by you like she does. She’s got your back every time. Like, she’ll fight for you even when she doesn’t completely understand your side. She’s so loyal, so supportive, and... sometimes, I worry I’m not being the friend she needs." You sighed in reflection.

"What do you mean, angel? You’re always there for her. You’re an amazing friend." Jude’s brow furrowed as he shifted closer to you, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you gently against him as he reassured you.  You hesitated, staring ahead, feeling the lump form in your throat. 

“It’s just... I don’t know. Remember that glass you’ve talked about… That wall I’ve always told you about? It’s like... emotionally, I keep it up with her because I feel like I have to. She’s so supportive even if she doesn’t get it and I don’t feel like I’m doing that for her because I have to be the strong one. She’s so fragile. She’s scared, Jude, and when she’s scared, I feel like I can’t let myself break. But I’m scared too.” Your voice cracked a little, and you felt your heart race with the admission. “I’m scared for her, and it makes me so sad... but I feel like I can’t let her see that.” Jude was quiet for a moment, absorbing what you’d said. He shifted, turning so that he was facing you more directly, his thumb brushing your arm in slow, comforting strokes.

"Angel..." His voice was tender, and the way he said your nickname made your chest tighten in a different way. "You’re allowed to be both. Strong for her and scared for yourself. It’s a really difficult thing to manage. To validate both experiences.” He cooed gently. You blinked, your eyes meeting his, not entirely sure what he was getting at. He continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "If you want to be strong for her, that’s okay. You can keep that strength for Whit. But you don’t have to hold it together all the time. You don’t have to pretend like you’re invincible." You looked at him, feeling the burn of tears you hadn’t realized were building. Jude’s gaze was soft but serious as he kept speaking. "Whit can handle it if you tell her how you really feel, but I get it if you don’t want to… if you want to protect her like that. But just know... you don’t have to do that with me. You can be soft with me. You can let it all out, let go. I’ll take care of you." His words were a balm you hadn’t realized you needed. The tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally spilled over, and you looked down, feeling both relieved and ashamed at the same time. You had always had to be this wall of steel for everything no one ever told you to… let go.

"I just... I feel like I’m supposed to be the strong one. But it’s so hard, Jude. It’s so hard." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you completely, holding you like he could absorb all of your sadness. “I know, baby. I know it is. But you don’t have to carry it alone.” You buried your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, feeling the comfort of his arms around you, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself be small. You let yourself lean on someone else. Jude’s hand moved gently through your hair, his touch slow and deliberate, like he knew you needed the time to feel safe enough to crumble, even just a little.

"I’ve got you," he whispered into your hair. "Always. You don’t have to be strong with me. I’ve got enough for both of us." You nodded against him, your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care. He just held you tighter, letting you release everything you’d been bottling up for so long. The worry, the fear for Whitney, the exhaustion of trying to be everyone’s rock when you felt like you were sinking yourself. And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt something shift. You felt lighter, like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to be the one holding everything together all the time. Maybe, with Jude, you could let yourself be fragile and know that he would be there to catch you when you fell.

You were calling Whitney a lot since you had made sure she had gotten back to England safely. You wanted to check in, see if she was okay, see how little Teddy was but you’d still make Jude check with Trent for the truth of the matter. As much as you loved to know Teddy was obsessing over strawberries at the minute and Whitney just went on an unreal spree at Selfridges…You needed Trent; Trent to tell Jude, because he’d probably sugar coat to you because he knew how much it hurt you to hear if Whitney was struggling to get out of bed, but you needed to know if she was still having a hard time. But it had seemed as if she was doing good. It was getting better. She and Trent were getting married in the summer and in a way this felt like a restart for her. For you though, it felt like you were reliving the same hurt. It was still weighing on you what had happened because it wasn’t the first time. You were in a funk you couldn’t shake. 

You stood in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, lost in thought as you stared at your reflection. The sound of your phone still faintly lingered in the air from your last call with Whitney, and even though she said everything was fine—It was as if you were stuck in this loop, reliving the same pain, even though you knew she was healing. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to move away the weight of the funk that had settled over you these last few days. It didn’t make sense—Whitney was moving forward, getting better, planning her wedding. This type of a fresh start for her. But for you, it still felt like the wounds were fresh, like you hadn’t healed at all from seeing her so broken, from seeing her from that very first time. Jude’s reflection appeared behind you in the mirror, his presence always grounding, always warm. You felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back into him as he kissed your neck softly. The weight of his touch, the comfort of his body against yours—it was like a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. 

"Come spend the day with me," he murmured into your ear, his voice soft but hopeful. 

"What? I don’t watch you run around in the grass enough?" You tilted your head back a little, a small smile creeping across your lips as you teased him.  Jude rolled his eyes but smiled too, kissing the side of your neck again. 

“Yeah, but this is different. I want you with me on the grass, not just watching.” He cooed. You giggled, the warmth of his embrace starting to melt away some of the heaviness that had been sitting on your chest. 

"Alright," you said softly, leaning into him.

"Okay." Jude turned you around, so you were facing him now, his hands firm yet gentle on your waist. He searched your face for a moment, his smile playful but his eyes serious, like he knew something was off even if you weren’t saying it. “You alright, angel?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded, forcing the smile to stay on your face, but he could see right through you. 

"Yeah, just… I’ve been in my head about a lot lately." You sighed Jude’s hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

 "You don’t have to be in your head alone, you know. You can talk to me." You sighed once more, leaning your forehead against his chest, breathing him in, his scent so familiar and comforting. 

"I know. It’s just… Whitney’s feeling better, she’s good now. And I’m happy for her, I really am. But it still feels like I’m stuck in what happened. Like I’m the one who hasn’t moved on yet." Jude held you tighter, his chin resting on top of your head.

"You went through it too, though. Watching her like that, worrying about her. That’s heavy on you." He whispered. You nodded, eyes closing as you let yourself relax into him fully. 

"I know. I just wish I could shake this feeling." You muttered. Jude kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. 

"You will. It’ll take time, but you’ll feel better, I promise. I’ll try my best to help you feel better." You stayed like that for a while, just holding onto him, letting his words sink in. Eventually, he pulled back just enough to look down at you, his grin back in place, playful and warm. "But first, I’m gonna get you out of this house. We’ll go out on the pitch, sweat a little,  have some fun. You with me?" He smirked. 

"Yeah. I’m with you." You smiled back, this time a little more genuinely. “Always.” Your heart skipped a beat at your promise. And as you left the bathroom with him, hand in hand, you felt a little lighter, like maybe today was the first step toward pulling yourself out of the funk. Because with Jude, it was hard to feel stuck for too long.

The sun was high in the Spanish sky, casting a golden glow over the field where Jude had been pushing himself through an intense workout. You sat on a mat nearby, your body going through a series of lazy stretches, though they were more for show than any actual intention of working out. You loved watching him in this setting-shirt off, muscles flexing and glistening with sweat as he moved, every sinew in his body working hard. His focus was on the workout, but you caught the way his eyes would drift back to you between sets, a spark of something more primal in them every time. You couldn't help but smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing. Your stretches were anything but innocent— arching your back, bending forward just enough to give him a view of your ass in your tight workout shorts, or pulling your arm across your chest to “stretch” or really just press your tits together in a way that was blatantly teasing. The sexual tension between you both hung in the air like a thick cloud, heating things up more than the sun ever could. After his final set, Jude jogged over to you, his breath heavy from exertion but still managing to look effortlessly attractive. His sweaty body collapsed next to you on the grass, half clumsy in a way that only made him more endearing, and half composed like he knew exactly what effect he had on you. Normally, anyone drenched in sweat might make you wrinkle your nose, but with Jude, you only leaned into him, craving the closeness. His arm draped over you, pulling you against his damp chest, and you couldn't help but smile as you nestled into him. He kissed your cheek, the simple affection making your heart flutter as your legs tangled with his.

"So, you finally loose enough to join me for a run?" he teased, his lips brushing your ear in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Loose?" you echoed, turning your face toward him, your eyes gleaming mischievously. "No, baby. You of anyone know that I can be really tight." You grinned, the heat of the sun and the weight of his body against yours making you feel bold.  His grin widened, smug and knowing, as he looked at you with that mix of playfulness and hunger that always made your stomach flip.

"I do know that. I know that well," he said, his voice low, almost a growl, as his hand slid over your waist, pulling you even closer. He nuzzled your neck before placing a soft, lingering kiss just beneath your jawline. You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of him against you, the weight of his arm, the teasing press of his lips. Everything about the moment was charged-the sun, the grass, the quiet intimacy in a place that was only yours.

"You sure you don't want to work up a little more of a sweat?" he murmured against your skin, his voice full of suggestion, his hand now resting on your thigh, fingers drawing small circles that made your breath hitch. You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, biting your lip before letting a slow, seductive smile spread across your face.

“I could be convinced," you purred, and in that moment, it didn't matter whether you were on the grass, in the sun, or anywhere else in the world-as long as you were with him. The cheeky sexy moment shifted though. It was almost like the comfort he gave you made you more sad, because he gave you a space you could be. Jude kept his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his cheek resting comfortably against you as you leaned forward in a pretend stretch, your fingers barely grazing your toes. He could feel the weight of your mood lingering in the air. You were trying to put on a brave face, but the tension in your body gave you away. Without a word, Jude gently pulled you back up from your extension, turning you so he could look at your face, his eyes searching yours with quiet concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “You know you’ll see Whit soon, yeah? She’ll be at the England game, Supporting Trent. You’ll get to be with her then.”  He explained and you paused, the words hanging in the air awkwardly as you fidgeted with the hem of your workout top. 

"Well…" you began, your voice trailing off. A wave of guilt swept over you, making your throat tighten as you hesitated. Jude raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for you to continue, but you could see the flicker of concern behind his calm demeanor. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” you finally said, taking a deep breath, “I have to be at the gallery that week. There’s a big event I can’t miss. I won’t be able to make it to the match.” The words felt heavier as they left your mouth, and you could see the disappointment flash across his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. Jude's smile faltered slightly, the sadness clear in his eyes, but he nodded, trying to understand. 

“Oh,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “Erm.. wow. I just… I really wanted you there. It’s our first game together, y’know? As… us.” He couldn’t hide the hurt and he couldn’t hide from Louis’s words nagging him about how your lives truly could never sync. Not only were you missing Jude’s match, he was missing something important of yours. The guilt gnawed at you. You could feel the weight of his words settling deep in your chest, and without thinking, you moved to hug him, burying your face in his neck, as if hiding could make the moment less painful. 

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled into his skin, your voice muffled and small. The ache of letting him down hit harder than you expected, and you felt your heart clench. Jude held you close, his lips pressing softly against your hair as he sighed, his arms tightening around you.

“It’s okay, angel,” he whispered, but you could feel the sadness in his voice, the way he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “I get it. Your work’s just as important. You don’t have to apologize.” The silence that followed was different from before, sad and thick with the reality you’d both been pushing aside. You didn’t live in Madrid. You didn’t live in the same city, and even though everything felt like home when you were with Jude, your life, your work, was back in New York. The truth settled between you like an invisible wall, and for the first time in a while, the distance between you felt very, very real. Jude kept holding you, his hand running soothingly up and down your back as if trying to keep you both grounded in the moment. But neither of you could shake the unspoken understanding that lingered: no matter how much you wanted to be here, with him, there was always something pulling you away.

After you and Jude return home after the intense emotional and physical session under the scorching sun. Your bodies glistened with sweat, a mixture of exertion and the sultry climate. Jude had pushed himself to his limits, but you had called it quits earlier than that, claiming your muscles were too tight to even start with what he was doing, although it was more of an innuendo. Little did you know, this was just the beginning of even more intense cardio —one that would leave you breathless in a whole different way. As you entered the cool confines of Jude’s room, his eyes smoldered with desire. He wasted no time, his hands already reaching for the hem of your tight workout top. With slow, deliberate movements, he peeled the mildly damp fabric over your head, exposing your perfect tits. Your nipples, already hardened from the workout and Jude's hungry gaze, begging for attention.

"You know, angel," Jude whispers, his voice husky with want, "I think I need to stretch you out properly. Earlier, you said you were too tight, and I can't have that." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew exactly what kind of stretching he had in mind. 

"Oh, yeah? And how do you plan to do that?" You giggled playfully, a mix of anticipation and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. In response, Jude lifted you effortlessly, carrying you towards the ensuite bathroom. With each step, his grip on your bare waist sent sparks of excitement through your body. He kicked the bathroom door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the spacious room. Jude set you down on the marble bench, the cool surface contrasting with your heated skin. He quickly turned the shower on, steam beginning to fill the air and then stepped under the cascading water, his muscular body glistening in the steamy atmosphere.

"C’mere right now baby," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. You wasted no time, stepping into the shower, feeling the hot water caressing your skin. Jude's hands on you instantly, cupping your tits and teasing your sensitive nipples. He lowered his head, his tongue tracing circles around them, sending electric shock waves of pleasure through your body. You leaned back, bracing yourself against the wall as Jude's mouth traveled down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles in his wake. He reached your throbbing core, and without hesitation, he parted your folds with his tongue, delving deep into your wetness. You gasped, the hot water mixing with your moans as Jude ate you with unhurried, deliberate strokes. Your hands gripped the shower wall, fingers digging into the grout as you struggled to maintain your balance. Jude's skilled tongue worked its magic, flicking and circling your clit, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You could feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over you. Just as you were about to climax, Jude stopped, leaving you teetering on the precipice. 

"Not yet, angel," he breathed, his voice heavy with lust. He lifted you as you wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back pressing against the cold tile wall, offering a delicious contrast to the heat between your bodies and the water. Jude dragged the tip of his throbbing hard cock through your folds before entering you in one swift motion, filling you completely. He rolled his hips into you and his cock pressed deeper into hitting a spot only he knew. When he found the perfect rhythm you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening. He sucked and nibbled onto your sensitive neck and you could feel your high rapidly approaching.  He began to thrust, his movements rough and primal, driven by the desire that had been building since the moment back on the pitch. He had you pressed up against the cold shower tiles as the warm water cascaded down your naked bodies. Your head fell back, and you bite your lip to stifle the moans that threatened to escape. Jude's hands gripped your hips, leaving imprints on your skin as he slammed into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the shower, mingling with the hiss of the water.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jude grunts, his breath hot against your neck. "I love when you're so tight for me." Your legs tightened around his waist more, your heel dragging down his muscular wet back, pulling him deeper into you. You couldn't hold back anymore. Jude could barely focus, you felt so good. You could barely speak from how good he felt. Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as you came, squirting a little. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Jude, I’m cumming. Shit baby, you feel so good, oh my god.” With a cry of pleasure, you climaxed, your walls clenching around Jude's throbbing cock. Your head collapsed from the wall down onto his shoulder as he relentlessly continued to pound into you as you rode out your high. 

"You take me so well, fuck, you're making such a mess, baby.” And you were. Jude hissed as his cock twitched in you feeling how messy you were. He swiftly followed you, his own release spilling deep within you as he filled you. “Be a good girl and take it for me. I’m cumming angel.” He moaned, pressing you further into the shower wall as your pussy clenched tighter around him. He emptied his load inside you as you both breathed heavily. Breathless and spent, Jude lowered you gently, your legs trembling as you slid down the wall. He set you on your feet and you clung to him as the warm water continued to fall. The shower steam encircled you as he rubbed his hands with soap over your body, beginning to actually shower now. You liked his hands on you like this, you liked him in the shower with you like this. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you and keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. You watched him stare blankly as if in  a blissful haze completely sure that there couldn’t possibly be anything better than this right here.. You smiled at his face and traced your finger down his sharp jawline. You were both so in love. You got through the shower slowly and not without some suggestive touches but eventually Jude reached around you and turned the water off. The sudden silence emphasizing your heavy breathing. He didn’t move yet, he just held you close against his chest. The water continued dripping down your bodies. Droplets racing along your skin. You couldn’t be but you wanted to be closer somehow to him. You got out and the air conditioned chill was a sharp contrast but it didn’t last long because Jude readily wrapped you in a warm, fluffy towel, draping his arms over you as he stood behind you engulfing you in it. He stared at you two in the fogged mirror for a moment before whisking you out of the bathroom, his strong arms supporting you. He sat you down on the bed, your body still tingling from the intense encounter. With gentle hands, he dried your skin, his touch sending aftershocks of pleasure through your nerves. He knelt before you, taking each of your feet in his hands, massaging them with a soft, scented lotion. His fingers work their way up your legs, leaving a trail of moisture and warmth over your whole body.

"You're so beautiful," Jude murmurs, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love every fucking inch of you." He murmured as he leant forward, his lips brushing against yours, and you taste the lingering flavor of your desire on his tongue. His hands continue to glide over your body, moisturizing your skin and leaving you feeling pampered and cherished. "I love you, Y/N," Jude whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. You smiled, your heart overflowing with love and desire. 

"I love you too, Jude," you replied, pulling him close for a deep, passionate kiss. And so as the afternoon sun streamed through the bedroom, you and Jude lied entwined for a little while, your bodies still glistening with the remnants of passion, a fresh shower, and lotion.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 18 - Long Distance xx

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Rough - Lando Norris

<word count - 973>

Lando shoved you into the bathroom, following you inside and locking the door behind you. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them up against the wall, trapping you with his body.

"You think you can pull that shit and get away with it?" he snarled, staring you dead in the eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you innocently responded, batting your eyelashes at him.

You had made him mad before, but he had never been angrier at you than he was now. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, it was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"Oh you're in for it now, slut," he spat, turning you around and bending you over the counter in the corner of the room without warning.

He ran his hands down over your hips and down the sides of your thighs, before slipping up the inside. "If I was weak, I'd fuck you until you were screaming my name if I found you this wet," he leant over and whispered in your ear, running his fingers over the thin lace of your underwear.

Subconsciously, you pressed yourself into his hand, desperate for the extra pressure. "If you think that's going to happen, your mistaken, sweetheart," he mocked with a light chuckle. 

You heard the unbuckling of his belt and the sound of his pants falling into a pool at his feet. He didn't even bother to take your underwear off, he simply slid it to the side. "So fucking wet," he mumbled, positioning his hands on your hips.

Without a single warning, he slammed into you hard. The stretch was painful, but blissful at the same time. He didn't give you time to adjust like he normally did, instead just thrusting in and out as fast and as hard as he could.

You could feel the bruises forming on your hips as his hands gripped tighter and the tip of his dick rammed your cervix with every thrust. There was not a single inch of your insides that he didn't touch.

Lando hadn't even been going for that long, but you were already feeling close. It was like electricity coursing through your veins as he touched you.

The closer you got, the louder the moans you let out became. They were throaty and desperate as he literally fucked the living shit out of you.

Lando slowed his pace slightly, bringing one of his hands over your mouth and the other fisted itself in your hair to pull your head back.

"Shut the fuck up," he growled, picking his pace back up. He was like a frenzied mad man, slamming into you at the speed of light and as hard as his body would let him. Your arms could barely hold you up against the counter as every thrust lurched you forward. 

A few hot, salty tears slipped down your cheeks and onto his hand at all the different sensations you were feeling. "You better fucking cry about it, bitch," he spat at you, smirking to himself as he felt your walls pulsing and tightening around him.

"You really think I'd let you cum after the stunt you pulled? Not a chance," he chastised, slowing down and pulling his dripping cock out of your slick folds. "Please Lando, shit I-" you said, needing to cum more than anything.

Instinctively, your hand slithered down to your clit and started aggressively massaging it, desperate for a release of all the tension that had been built up in your body.

"No, absolutely not," he instructed, effortlessly ripping your hand away from you. "On your knees," he commanded, spinning you around to face him.

The sight of your glassy eyes, rosy cheeks, smudged lipstick and tangled hair turned him on more than anything, and it served you right. You deserved it.

"Please-" you pouted.

"No. On your knees," he commanded, more assertively this time. You couldn't help but sink down to the floor, your doe eyes trained on his.

As you kept eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around the tip of his dick, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You positioned your hands on the base as you started to take more of it into your mouth. 

"That's it," he half praised, half mocked. You bobbed your head back and forth, the tip tickling the back of your throat as you tried not to gag. More tears ran down your cheeks as you suppressed the gag reflex. 

Balling your hair up in a fist behind your head, he held you still as he began thrusting in and out of your mouth. "This is what you get when you don't fucking behave," he hissed through gritted teeth as he could feel his orgasm bubbling up in his lower abdomen. 

Right now, he was fucking your mouth like he hated you, and you believed he did, but it was one of the most erotic thing you had ever done. Your throat burned and more salty tears trickled down your reddened cheeks, as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Shit, baby," he cursed as he released his seed into your mouth. You had no choice but to swallow the salty liquid as he held himself inside your mouth until he was fully done. 

His facial features softened as he pulled himself out of your mouth with a pop of your lips. "Come on, up," he said, soothingly. His mood had changed rapidly.

Lando took your hands and pulled you up from your knees. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked, swiping the stray tears off your cheeks with his thumbs. As you parted your lips, no words came out of your mouth because of how raw your throat was. 

"Don't try talking, nothing'll happen," he said, pulling you into a hug. "Come on, let's get you home," he softly told you, talking your hand and dragging you out of the bathroom. 

A/N - I am so sorry I don't know why I wrote this

|masterlist|

[theoldsports]

Matrimony

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words

SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.

THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.

The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.

Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.

She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?

[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.

If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.

[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.

He looked at me.

The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.

Darling,

Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.

And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.

C.B.S.

He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.

[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.

Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.

The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.

[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.

Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.

She sighed. For better or worse.

[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.

She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.

Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.

She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.

Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.

“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”

“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.

“It’s… yeah, but—“

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“

“I don’t wanna ruin today—“

“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.

“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.

“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.

“What?”

Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”

“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”

“So?”

“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”

[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”

Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”

“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.

—

[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.

After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.

[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.

Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.

Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.

[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.

I’ve got you.

When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.

I’ve got you.

Everything had to be lovely.

The wedding had to be lovely.

“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.

[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.

The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.

Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.

He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.

[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?

Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.

I’ve got you.

What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.

Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.

“I didn’t.”

“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.

“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”

“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.

The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.

The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.

What happened to I’ve got you.

“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.

“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”

[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.

“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.

He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.

Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.

Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.

“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.

Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.

Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.

I’ve got you.

“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.

“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.

“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”

Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.

—

Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.

[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?

[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.

“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.

“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.

“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”

“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.

“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?

[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.

“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”

[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”

“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?

“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”

“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Odd topic choice.”

“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”

“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.

“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“

“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.

If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.

[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.

“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.

Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.

“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.

“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.

“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”

Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.

[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”

Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”

There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.

“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.

Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.

[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.

Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.

“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.

“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.

Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.

[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.

“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”

“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.

Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”

She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.

“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”

[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.

“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s adequate?”

“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”

“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”

“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”

Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.

Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.

The sex, however, was anything but transactional.

By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.

Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.

[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.

Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.

She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.

Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.

This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.

“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.

“I love you too.”

It was almost the truth.

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar @kaealowri @weeeoosworld @dilucpegg3r @bai-wuxiangs-mask @kisstheskin

as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

eddies never considered himself lucky, not with anything, not with girls not with guys not with his family not with anything.

not when his dad beat him and his mom to a pulp and walked out only to come back 2 years later with bloodshot eyes , red nostrils and a baby on his hip.

not when harley jones asked him on a date only to take his virginity in the back of his van and never talk to him again.

not when billy hargrove asked him to do his homework and he purposely wrote an essay on his behalf about how much he hated mrs. o’donell.

not when you showed up on his doorstep , asking him out on a date and he declined thinking he was some butt of a joke , making you walk home in the rain after walking an hour as a grand gesture for him in your cheer uniform carrying droopy flowers you had picked for him.

eddie wasn’t lucky not at all.

the clock on eddies side table reads 7:00 am in bright blaring numbers. eddies rubs his eyes to rid himself of sleepies and sits up , throwing on his favorite garfield boxers and an old ratted metallica shirt.

the knocking on his trailer grows rapid hence why hes up so early.

“i’m comin , i’m comin fuck hold on” he yells

throwing the door open eddies jaw drops , you’re the last person he expected at the door , if he knew it was you he would have made himself presentable.

you look so pretty , clad in your cheer uniform, rain droplets dripping off your eyelashes , knee high socks he can only assume are doing nothing to keep you warm. a pony tail holding your curled hair and flowers he can only assume you just picked from the side of the road , he can tell because he picks those for his mommas grave , purples amongst yellows amongst pinks and oranges, shining brightly in contrast to the gray sky.

“he-heyy what the fuck are you doing here?”

is the first thing that slips out of his mouth , your eyes blow wide.

“no no i didnt mean it like that i’m just shocked you’re here , did you walk here ? at 7 in the morning? in the rain?” he rambles “yeah i did , is that okay?” you ask , hesitance heavy in your voice “more than okay sweetheart, why are you here?” his voice filled with sweetness , making you hopeful of his answer to your question.

“i just wanted to know if you’d wanna go on a date with me , we can watch a movie , i know they’re showing some horror movies , i planned it out, i’ll pay for your ticket , i uh also thought we could get burgers and shakes at bennys , hes my uncle i’ll convince him to give the meal to us for free , he usually does he has a soft spot for me, i see you around alot , i think you’re handsome , i know my brother loves you and i know theres gotta be lots of reasons why” your head starts bopping , excitement laced in your voice. awaiting his answer.

eddies heart plummets to his feet , he wanted to believe this , to be hopeful that this wasn’t some cruel joke but he can’t not after holly. he cant help but roll his eyes.

you catch it , smile and arms dropping , your nails pressing into your hand where you’re holding the flowers you picked for him.

“why the fuck are you here y/n ?” the sweetness from his voice long gone , replaced with bitterness and venom “i-i just told you why eddie what do you mean” your voice trembles “no the real fucking reason , i don’t want you to stand there and lie to me what the fuck y/n i thought you were different but you’re just like them , you will not make a joke out of me , thats a dick move, go home. my answer is no , tell your friends that this didn’t work and maybe go prank someone else” he slams the door shut , palms opening and closing , sweating, he wants to look out, see the angry look on your face when you realize your plan didn’t work, instead hes faced with something much worse.

the flowers that once stood high we’re drooping in your hand , your back shaking hard with despair and a distraught look on your face as rock your head in a back and forth no motion tears dripping down your face , one hand pressed to your chest he can assume for comfort and the other holding waynes wrist where hes cupping your face lightly, cooing at you as you recount what just aspired to him, his heart burns with pain when he sees waynes eyes tearing up aswell. both of you soaked with rainwater.

he watches as you calm down , watches as wayne grabs a jacket from his car and covers your shaking frame with it , watches as wayne drops a kiss on your forehead and lets you walk away. watches as you walk further down the road disappearing from his sight. watches as wayne stomps to the door. but hes too afraid to go out and speak to you , too afraid to apologize because he already fucked up.

“what is wrong with you boy? i know i raised you , why you actin like ya father ? making a girl cry and having her walk home in the rain, you find out a way to apologize, i don’t care that ya think she pranked ya , she and her brother been coming here every morning asking for you , she built up the courage to ask you out and you turn her down so easily, fix this, don’t make me tell you again.” wayne tells eddie , wiping the tears on his face “fix this”

eddie doesn’t waste a second throwing his shoes on and grabbing two jackets. he’ll do whatever it takes.

[seancekitsch]

Vox from Hazbin Hotel x siren! reader?? PLEASEE i love this concept sm-

i think i accidentally created myself an oc, also, if you spot the showgirls reference ill give you a cookie, this is inspired by the general flavor of moulin rouge and showgirls

“What the FUCK?!” you all but screech, throwing your blush frustratedly at your vanity. The small compact hits the cool marble, and immediately the product with the pan shatters, ruined. It was expensive. Fuck. 

“I- I don’t know what happened…” Jinni, a succubus, your assistant and opening act, stutters from the door. Scared. 

You deflate, rolling your eyes as you calm yourself and stop scaring the girl. You have to remember to stop raging near her. She’s young, too young. 

Overlords in the club mean a good tip, mean security, mean you and girls like Jinni make rent safely and have some fun money to toss around as well. You practically fall into your chair, yank a fake eyelash off as you sigh, ready to put on the next pair for your closing number. 

“There’s gotta be some reason the voice didn’t work on him,” you say, “I’m gonna find out why.”

“Are you sure thats a good idea?” Jinni asks, her tail curling around one of her legs. You have a soft spot for the girl, you really do. A place like this is gonna tear her apart; or at least, it would if you didn’t immediately take her under your wing. You pat the little chair beside you, and wrap your arms around the girl as soon as she takes the spot. 

You both stare at each other’s eyes through the mirror, sweat and make up blurred against your complexions, a reassuring smile spreads across your face. 

“I’ll check and see if he has the VIP package, and pull out the damsel in distress act,” you tell the little succubus, now cheek to cheek with her.  She smiles at you through the mirror, knowing full well you’re ready to ham it up.

“Thats your best one,” she says, and comes closer to pick up a body glitter for you. Jinni leans on the chair behind you, resting her forearms on your shoulders. You gaze at her while your hand moves with the brush across your face, at this point muscle memory kicks in, flawless. She’s why you still play nice, you think. 

“Gonna make sure you don’t have to go back to doggy chow for dinner,” you chide as you finish up your new look, a bit more dewy and innocent looking, as you shake her off and grab a lace robe to walk backstage in. Jinni laughs, and then takes your seat to take off her own make up. 

You’ve done this walk thousands of times, the long dimly lit hallway, all of the girls rooms hidden behind flimsy curtains and makeshift doors, signed by girls current and long since past. Your feet feel light below you, though nerves course through your veins. The patrons cheering is almost quieted here, all the quiet white noise that sets you ablaze in excitement and anticipation for another performance. 

But before the end of the hall can be reached, a meaty hand comes out to stop you, wrapping around your bicep. 

“Outta my way, Flicker, I gotta tell the sound guy to switch my track,” You turn your head away from the stage manager, not willing to take a face full of his calamari breath.  

“You ain’t goin’ out there again tonight,” he explains, “Got a private booking with a big spender.”

You sigh, right, just what you needed right now. You wish you could shoot a quick text to Jinni but… your phone is back in your dressing room with her. She’ll have to fair without you until this is over. 

“Right now?” you meet his eyes, and you can tell he wanted you in there five minutes ago. Shit. Well, here goes the girls' good tips for the night, you sigh, and turn towards the stairwell that leads you up to the private boxes. 

These rooms are gross; there’s no way to sugar coat it. You hate private bookings, much preferring to dance on the floor with any high spending patrons, giving them the girlfriend experience while you have the added safety of being able to slip away. These private rooms don't even have walls, more like private theater boxes so the managers can make sure you're keeping the clients happy. Up here, your talents are much more obvious, much harder to avoid blame.

You wonder what this guy will want. A champagne pour? A strip tease? Or worst of all, a dry hump or an over the pants job? You’d hate for this asshole to fuck up your costume or make up. That shits not cheap down here, and you only hope that after this private booking the overlord in the back of the hall might have loosened up and opened his wallets to one of the other girls or the house. 

But it still digs at you, like an old wound you cannot help but pick at… that your voice didn’t work on—

Him.

Its him. You can see through the sheer curtain the overlord in a suit. An old fashioned in his hand as he leans against the railing, the finale of the show tonight kicking into full gear below, all of the patrons like dogs on leashes waiting to be released to dance and party with the girls until dawn once the stage is clear. 

“Oh, Sir!” you call to him as you pull back the curtain, your flimsy robe fluttering behind you, “What is a man of your caliber doing in a place like this?”

Maybe you’re laying it on a little thick with the sultry little voice and the innocent act, but that’s what the men pay you for. He turns quickly, as if he didn’t expect you here so soon, but his smile quickly grows, teeth glowing against the low lighting of the private box. 

“What do you mean?” HIs voice is smooth as butter, “Is a man of MY caliber not supposed to admire beautiful things? Consider me a patron of the arts.”

You lounge yourself on one of the couches, effortlessly parting the bottom of your robe, kicking your legs up, really giving him a show. The boning of your costume digs into your ribs, but you don’t move. You always win over the higher spenders by laying out the feast for them. 

“Is that so?” you ask, a fake demure giggle leaving your lips, “Well then consider me confused, because you didn’t look so happy during my number earlier.”

The glow of his eyes distracted you, both out on stage earlier and now. His gaze intense, his posture rigid. 

“Maybe,” he trails off, crossing the little box until he’s in reach. One of his large hands wraps around your ankle, and then carelessly yanks your ankle off the couch to force you sitting upright. Okay, you’re only a little offended. Moreso intrigued by his seemingly complete lack of attraction to you. You drop your robe from one shoulder, baring more skin to entice him. Men are men, after all. He moves to sit at the other end of the couch. Maybe not all is lost, you think, as you pour a glass of champagne from the side table. The girl they threw on stage instead of you is killing this performance from what you can tell, and you know she’ll finish strong by the aerial rig set up and ready to go for her. You sip your glass as he sips his, and lean in closer to him, hoping that a little more proximity to him will help you figure out his deal. 

“But maybe I’m more wondering what the fuck someone like you is doing here,” he sneers as he stands, leaving you falling sideways into the space he vacated, nearly spilling your glass. 

“I- I beg your pardon?” you splutter, the sultry voice gone for a moment as you check to make sure you didn’t waste a drop of champagne on your robe.

“And stop with the agreeable little whore act, you can talk to me,” he winks at you as he says it,  red glowing eye rimmed with teal. You sigh as you brush yourself off from both he physical and metaphorical stumble. Okay, what does he know?

“Someone like me?” you ask, your real voice now dripping through. 

“Someone with power, darling,” The overlord says as if it’s obvious, “Someone with a talent like mine.”

He finishes his drink, and tosses the glass over the railing into the patrons gallery below.

“I could use someone with talents like yours,” he says, and your blood runs cold. You know what overlords mean when they say that. Your eyes dart to the curtain, to the hallway. If you shouted, would Flicker hear you? Wait- What are you thinking? He doesn’t give a rats ass about his girls’ safety. 

You do the only thing you can, you open your mouth to sing.

“Ah ah ah, nope,” he holds up a finger to silence you before you can begin, “That won’t work.”

You close your mouth, open it, close it again. 

“How did you know?”

If he knows, he can tell. If he tells, you lose money. Girls back on the street, you without a plan here.

His scowl turns to a smile, his eyes glowing brighter, circular rimming pulsating within his sclera. A funny tickle passes over you, as if he was blowing on you, gentle and odd. You furrow your brow, and then your jaw drops. You get it now. 

“Oh, Sir!” you play it up, ‘agreeable little whore’ voice as he called it back in full force, “I didn’t realize we were so evenly matched!” 

“I’m glad the smartest girl in this joint is also the prettiest,” he flirts, walking back over to the couch until he’s leaning on the arm of it. 

“How were you thinking of spending the evening mister…?” You stick to script if you trail off, not wanting to ask him outright what he wanted, now that you know what you’re dealing with.

He crackles, static, his glow dimming momentarily.

“Vox, darling. Where are my manners?” he finally introduces himself as he reaches over you for the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket and the other glass. He knows this game too, you realize, as his cologne wafts over you; something rich and woodsy. Attractive and expensive. 

“I’d like to offer my patronage, to your little,” he gestures around with the empty flute before pouring it, “artistic endeavors personally.”

That would be nice. A steady patron would mean steady money, steady numbers and acts, a bigger costume budget. His lap doesn't seem like a bad one to be perched on.

“Thats very generous, Mister Vox,” you say, holding out your glass for him to top it off, “But I can’t help but wonder what you want in return?”

His smile changes, less sharp, more real as he moves the neck of the bottle to your glass. He looks you up and down, scrutinizing every detail. 

“Your voice,” he goes on to explain, “For some important events, some advertising. I can make you a star, darling.”

It dawns on you that he hasn’t even asked your name, but then again you also weren’t going to give a client your real name. The entire idea is attractive, desirable. The patronage of a handsome powerful man, a legitimate name for yourself in the entertainment industry, security.

You reach upward clink your glass against his, urging him to clink yours back.

“You’ll have to win me over with a dance,” you tease him, your lips curling into a downright vicious smile. 

[joonsmagicshop]

Bad Idea....right?

Summary: Sneaking into your enemy Jung Hoseok's party to make Kim Taehyung jealous is a bad idea....right?

Paring: Reader/Hoseok (Taehyung, Jimin Jungkook and Namjoon are characters)

Word Count: 8K

Rating: M 18+

Tags: A/U, smut, making someone jealous, douchebag jimin, douchebag taehyung, Dom hobi, best friend namjoon, enemies to lovers, getting ghosted, confessing feelings, fingering, eating pussy, hickies, spanking, Dom Hobi but also soft sweet hobi, penetrative sex, teasing.

Authors Note: I've been reading a lot enemies to lovers and decided to try it out for myself. Because I write so much Namjoon I wanted to broaden my writing so Hobi it is. This was fun to write.

“Hey, Joon!” You say trying to balance the phone on your shoulder as you lean in to apply another layer of mascara, dropping your phone on your vanity in the process.

You let out a frustrated sigh and put him on speaker as you continue to work on your makeup.

“What happened are you okay?” He asks voice laced with concern.

“Yeah I’m okay Joon just dropped my phone. What are you up to tonight?” You ask as you flutter your eyelashes and begin to work on pulling your hair back into a half updo.

“Not much just got a new book I’ve been dying to read so just ordered some dinner and going to read.'“ He says as you softly smile.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Oh you know….not much.” You say as sweetly as you can.

“Y/N I’ve known you for too long to know when you are telling the truth or lying. That was your lying voice.” He replies as you roll your eyes and finally get your hair in a style you like.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tease as you hear him chuckle on the other line.

He knows you too well.

“Y/N please just tell me what you are up to.” He sighs as you stand from your vanity to run your hands down your outfit.

“Well, I called because I did want to know how your night was going. Honest. I also wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me tonight… somewhere.” You say softly.

“Go out where?” Namjoon’s voice is laced with suspicion and it makes you want to laugh. He was always the rock in your friendship, the stable, logical one. You were more wild and free, doing what you wanted and dragging him along for the ride.

“To a party.” You say apprehensively as you hear Namjoon let out an audible groan on the other end.

“It’s not his party is it?” Namjoon asks and you fiddle with your black sheer top.

“Who’s party are you referring to? You tease.

“Jung Hoseok.” Namjoon spits out and you grimace.

The silence on your end tells Namjoon everything he needs to know.

“Y/N, please. Please tell me you are not thinking of sneaking into Jung Hoseok’s house party tonight. You both are going to tear each other apart and I’m not breaking you out of jail when you break his face.” Namjoon sighs sounding weary.

“Relax Namjoon he won’t even know I’m there. Besides I’m not going for him.” You assure him.

“You both hate each other, loathe each other because you tell me how much you hate him all day every day and you think you can sneak into his party unnoticed? Come on Y/N.” Namjoon says as you start to shove things you need into a beaded bag.

“So if not to break his face then what reason do you need to sneak into a house party and drag me along? And if you say Kim Taehyung I’m hanging up on you.” Namjoon says and you bite your lip.

He knows you too damn well.

“Y/N Please tell me you are not going to this party because of Kim Taehyung. Promise me.” He pleads.

“I can’t promise you that Joonie.” You say in a small voice as Namjoon lets out a frustrated groan.

“He went on a date with you and Ghosted you. Poof. Gone. And now you want to sneak into Hoseok’s to do what exactly?” Namjoon grills you as you begin to pace your room.

“I want to go to this party and find a hot stranger to dance with and make him see what he is missing out on.” You respond trying to fight the hurt in your chest.

“Y/N it’s not worth it. He is not worth it. Kim Taehyung is trash, ghosting you like that. Please don’t go it’s such a bad idea.” He pleads but it’s too late, your phone alerts you that your ride is here.

“Namjoon my ride is here. I’m going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You assure him, or maybe yourself as you slip on your heels and head towards the front door.

“Y/N you can come over here and we can hang out. I’ll make you tea and we can talk and watch those romance movies you love. You don’t need to sneak into this party you don’t need to make Taehyung jealous he is so not worth it and if he can’t see your worth he’s trash in my eyes, and Hoseok I mean you hate him. Hate him down to his bones and you want to take a chance running into him. Please this is a bad idea. Taehyung is not worth it.” Namjoon pleads over the phone.

“See ya Joon. I’ll keep you up to date.” You say as you hang up and slip your phone in your beaded bag.

Time to show Kim Taehyung what he is missing out on.

Jung Hoseok lives across town so you lean your head against the car window as it navigates the busy Friday night streets.

You can feel your phone vibrating in your beaded bag but you don’t bother to take it out, you know it’s Namjoon trying to talk you out of going to this party.

He just doesn’t understand.

You met Taehyung at a coffee shop. You had just gotten your laptop out and were setting up to work when he approached your table.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, with dark hair that fell over his eyes and a shy boxy smile.

He apologized for intruding but the seat across from you was the only one left and he really wanted to get some work done.

The table was big enough for two so you introduced yourself and let him share your table. He seemed shy and quiet which you didn’t mind and after only an hour of work, you found your eyes drawn over the top of your computer to his handsome face which was screwed up in concentration.

He caught you and you both blushed, he gave up work to chat with you and give you his number.

He seemed so nice in the beginning, and the first date you had was lovely but after, that radio silence.

He seemed to disappear off the face of the planet and even though it was just one date you felt crushed that it didn’t work out or go further.

No matter how many times Namjoon had told you Taehyung was trash, even asking around to find out that he ghosted people quite often and it was a regular thing, your heart couldn’t let go of the shy cute boy in the cafe.

So when you heard about this party and knew that Taehyung was a close friend of your enemy Jung Hoseok you jumped at the chance to make him see what he was missing out on, to make him jealous and overall make him wish he didn’t ghost you.

As for Jung Hoseok, well he was just a know-it-all stuck-up douchebag. You shared some of the same friends so he always seemed to just…be around. You got along like Fire and Gasolene and both of you were not afraid to have full-blown arguments in front of anyone and everyone. Namjoon had to drag you away a couple of times when the fight got too heated.

Hoesok thought you were too stuck up and prissy, you thought he was a know-it-all with too big of an ego. There was no catalyst, no driving force you both just hated each other from day one.

Namjoon was right though, sneaking into a party, especially Jung Hoseoks's party was a bad idea, you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself, knowing that it would be a chance for you to see Taehyung again.

The party was in full swing by the time your cab dropped you off at the curb. You handed him some money and straightened yourself out as he pulled away leaving you standing on the sidewalks in the dark, the only sounds coming from the giant house in front of you.

Another reason you hated Hoseok, he was rich, filthy rich, and liked to flaunt it by throwing grand parties and plastering it all over his social media.

Not that you followed him on social media, you just happened to look a couple of times.

You held your bag close to your body as you walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering in your chest, and you grabbed for the knob to turn it and swing the door open.

You were met with strobe lights and blasting music, the smell of sweat, sex, and weed permeated the air as you stepped over the threshold and clutched your bag.

You hunched over trying to make yourself small as you navigated the packed house trying your best to find Taehyung before Hoseok found you.

The living room was tightly packed with people as you tried to nudge your way in, the kitchen was even worse and as you stood on your tiptoes to search for a mop of dark hair you got nudged and pushed into the wall.

You rubbed your sore arm but the person who nudged you didn’t seem to care, just as soon as they hit you they were swallowed by the crowd.

You had to find Taehyung but navigating this crowd was almost impossible.

You finally pushed and nudged yourself into the kitchen and poured yourself a drink trying to calm your nerves, with all the people you were starting to feel claustrophobic.

You feel a hand on your arm and you flinch when you look up to see Park Jimin staring down at you, his eyes glassy and gaze unfocused.

“Hey Y/N didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” He slurs, breath fanning your face reeking of booze.

You cringe

“Yeah well, it was kind of a last-minute decision.” You reply trying to inch away from him.

Park Jimin was one of Taehyung’s closest friends and was known to be a total fuck boy. Even the way he was looking at you right now made you feel like he was undressing you with his eyes.

You wanted to get away from him as soon as possible and keep searching the party. You’d never tell Jimin that you were looking for Taehyung, he would probably just laugh in your face.

“Mhmm, you should come dance with me.” He slurs as his hands grab for your hips. You try to push him off of you but he has you backed against a wall.

“No, I’m good I’m not much of a dancer” You reply almost yelling at him over the beat of the new song that is playing.

“So yes you will?” He shouts as he leans in, breath fanning over your cheeks as you put your hands on his chest to try to push him away.

“No Jimin. No, thank you!” You shout as the music seems to get louder, or maybe that is the blood pounding in your ears.

You fist your hands into his shirt and try to push him away but he is strong.

“Come dance with me Y/N you look so fucking hot tonight.” He growls in your ear, hands roaming your hips.

You gasp for air trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone in the kitchen to come save you. Your hands grab Jimin’s to keep them from inching further up your naked legs as you try to push him off of you.

Panic sets in when he doesn’t stop and starts to grind his bulge against you. You are trying your best to get him off of you, begging him to leave you alone.

You want to shout out for Taehyung to help you, for Namjoon who is on the other side of town to help you, for someone, anyone, to push Jimin off of you.

Right as you close your eyes and steady yourself to give him a huge shove a hand comes up to his shoulder and peels him off of you.

Your eyes snap open and you stare at Jimin who is unsteady on his feet, grabbing the table he nearly got flung into for support.

You look up to your savor, appreciation dies on your lips when you see it is Jung Hoseok, staring you down as if you are dirt under his newest pair of shoes.

Well fuck.

“Park Jimin go drink some water you drunk fuck and if I catch you doing this to anyone else at this party I will chop your balls off. Understand?” Hoseok barks out as he continues to stare you down.

“Relax Hobi I was just having some fun,” Jimin grumbles as he rubs at his side where it hit the table.

You are still plastered against the wall panic still rising in your throat as Hoseok breaks your gaze to stare at Jimin in disgust.

“As I said I will chop your balls clean off your body if you do that again. If someone says no they mean no Jimin. Now get out of here.” Hoseok demands as Jimin shoots him a dirty look and leaves the kitchen getting swallowed up by the crowd

You swallow hard when Hoseok’s narrowed eyes land on you. You have never felt intimidated by him but something about him staring you down left all the insults you wanted to shout at him dead on your tongue.

“Well, well, well. Sneaking into a party you were most definitely not invited to, trying to hide in the crowd so I don’t spot you then needing me to come save you. Ironic huh? The one person you didn’t want to see saved your ass.'“ He coos at you as you finally peel yourself from the wall and stare him down.

"I think the words you are looking for are Thank You.” He says with a sly smirk which has your blood boiling.

“I was fine. I didn’t need your help.” You spit at him staring him down, heart racing in your chest.

“Believe me love, Park Jimin wouldn’t have stopped unless I peeled his sorry ass off of you. A simple thank you won’t kill you.” His eyes roam your body “Or maybe it will, don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words.”

You grit your teeth wishing you had a drink in your hand so you could throw it at his beautiful face.

“Whatever Hoseok. I’m not here to fight you anyway. Or here for stupid Park Jimin to grope me.” You say gaze leaving his so you can scan the crowd some more, eyes still not seeing that mess of brown hair that belongs to Taehyung.

“Well seeing as you snuck into this party I can only assume you didn’t want to see me at all. You’re here for Kim Taehyung aren’t you?” He says with a quirk of his eyebrow as your mouth drops.

He throws back his head and laughs and you want to hit him, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“So predictable.” He purrs as your hands bawl into fists at your side. You really hope Namjoon was kidding about not breaking you out of jail because you feel very close to punching Hoseok right in the mouth.

“Shut up Hoseok you don’t know anything.” You say shooting him a death glare as you cross your arms over your chest and try to look intimidating, which doesn’t work because you are a whole head shorter than him even in heels.

“Oh, I know plenty of things.” He comments, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours.

“I know how he went on a date with you. Ghosted you. And how he came to this party with some blonde chick hanging all over him. I saw them maybe twenty minutes ago. Looked like they were headed outside.” He says leaning in, his eyes wander your body again and you shiver.

“And I can only assume Kim Namjoon is around here somewhere, asshole couldn’t even pull Jimin off you so I had to?”

You swallow hard.

“No, he stayed home tonight. Just me here.” You respond

“Good choice. I always thought he was smart.” Hoseok says as someone bumps into him, sending him nearly crashing into you if he didn’t hold onto the wall above your head.

Your eyes flit up to meet his, his breath is warm on your face and every fiber of your being is confused between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run far far away from him.

“How do I know you're not lying to me.” You whisper as you feel his body press into yours further.

“I could be. Or maybe I’m not. How many laps around my house are you going to do before you realize I’m right? Wow, two thank yous in one night. I think you might collapse under the pressure.” He teases as he pushes away from the wall giving you space to breathe.

You aren’t sure what to say. Or how to feel. The only thing you know is you should get out of here. Now. You have embarrassed yourself enough for one night and you knew in your heart that Hoseok would never let you live it down.

Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped mouth and you swallow.

For a brief instant, you wonder what they would feel like pressed against yours and that’s when you know it’s time to leave. You are completely sober wanting Jung Hoseok to kiss you. Times up, games over, time to leave.

You push yourself off the wall and try to move past him but his hand is quick on your hip pulling you back as you growl at him in frustration.

“And where do you think you're going?” He coos, long fingers keeping you in place.

“I’m leaving. You don’t want me here anyway. Goodbye.” You grit out clenching your teeth.

“What and I don’t get my thank yous? Seems kind of harsh. I was a gentleman tonight after all. Your knight in shining armor if you will.” He teases as his one hand runs down the front of his black shirt, puffing out his chest to you.

“You're no better than Park Jimin holding me here against the wall.” You bite back trying once again to push past him only to be blocked.

“Park Jimin doesn’t take no for an answer. I do. Just say the word and I’m gone.” He growls as his lips come down to ghost your neck and you shiver.

What the fuck is going on.

You hate Jung Hoseok with every fiber of your being.

You have hated him since you first lay eyes on him

So why did you feel so turned on, and flustered at him pining you against a wall?

You could say no.

You could walk away.

You could get a cab and go to Namjoon’s and cry into his arms about how Taehyung clearly moved on.

But you didn’t do any of those things

You didn’t want to do any of those things.

Something about fighting with Hoseok set off a fire in you that you weren’t sure how to extinguish but you knew you needed more.

“Do you ever shut up?” You fight back weakly as his lips curl into a devilish smile.

“Ah, so instead of saying thank you we are playing the insult game.” He says voice low as he dips his head down to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear.

Even in the warm kitchen you shiver and you feel him grin.

“Hoseok.” You almost whine out closing your eyes and hating the way you sound, so broken, so desperate for a man you can’t stand.

“Shall we do a lap and see if we can find your precious Taehyung? I know all the best hiding spots. This is my house after all.” He purrs in your ear.

Taehyung

Right

That’s why you were here.

“You said he was gone.” You whisper as people walk by unaware of the turmoil going on in your mind.

You aren’t sure if you want to kiss him or hit him but you need to keep him talking until you figure it out.

“Ah, so you did believe me?” He teases, letting his hand that is resting on your hip play with the hem of your shirt.

You suck in a breath.

“I don’t know what to believe, You are a dick after all. Isn’t this all just a game to you?” You ask trying to keep your voice steady when his long fingers slip under your shirt to play with your heated skin.

“Maybe? Maybe not. That’s for you to decide. This is my house. My party. And I graciously pulled Jimin off of you and made sure you were okay. That doesn’t seem like dick behavior to me.” He teases as his hand traces your skin higher. You arch into his touch and he chuckles low and dark in your ear.

His hands continue to move higher and any insult you want to throw back at him leaves your brain. You can’t think, can’t focus when his fingers touch you like that

His long fingers graze the bottom of your bralette making you gasp and shiver as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

Just as you are about to say something, do something a hand taps his shoulder and Hoseok whips around to see Jungkook standing there blushing wildly and looking like he wants to be anywhere else.

“Sorry, Hyung you said to come get you if something happened. Someone broke a vase upstairs there’s glass all over the floor. I’ll clean it I just want to know where your stuff is?” He asks timidly as his big brown eyes land on you and he shyly smiles.

“It’s fine Kook I’ll clean it myself.” He says pushing away from you as you feel air start to enter your lungs again.

Hoseok turns to you and you can finally take him in, how wild he looks, how his eyes are dark clouded with lust, and how his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

You feel your legs tremble from his look alone.

“Upstairs, turn right last door on the right. Or leave. Your choice.” He says to you shooting you a wink and looping an arm around Jungkook as he heads off to find cleaning supplies.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your pussy is throbbing and soaking wet and you can’t seem to catch your breath

What the fuck

What the actual fuck.

You push your way out of the kitchen and head to the backyard where a group of people seem to be milling about and smoking.

You stay far away from them and tuck yourself into a small secluded area as you take several deep breaths and try to calm down.

You don’t like Hoseok

There is no way you do, no way you can.

But there was something about him tonight that was so attractive it made you feel things that you most definitely thought you’d never. Ever. Feel for him

You take your time staring up at the sky and catching your breath when you hear a high-pitched giggle echo over the backyard.

You snap your head up to see Kim Taehyung holding the hand of some blonde girl and pushing her up against the side of the house. You watch as his lips find her neck and he peppers kisses down them, her little squeals and moans echoing throughout the yard though neither of them seem to care they have an audience.

You feel your throat tighten and your chest ache.

Namjoon was right Taehyung wasn’t thinking about you and he totally wasn’t worth it.

And the worst part of it all had nothing to do with Taehyung.

It was the fact that Jung Hoseok was right. Taehyung did come here with someone else.

You push yourself from your hiding place and head across the yard to go find Hoseok. You are not sure why you need to see him, you could leave right now and forget this whole thing but something inside you is telling you to find him. Maybe it’s all the emotion swirling inside you ready to explode, maybe you just want to fight someone to get all this anger, frustration, and sorrow out.

Either way, you make your way across the yard, the blood pounding in your ears deafens the moans the girl is letting out when Taehyung grinds himself into her.

He doesn’t even notice you crossing the yard, not that it matters anymore.

You make your way back into the house pushing past the crowd of people as you make your way up the stairs. You turn right and stare at the last door on the right, heart hammering wildly in your chest as you approach it.

You knock and without warning you let yourself in.

The room is massive with a huge king-sized bed in the middle. You’d take a second to appreciate the decor if your eyes weren’t so focused on the man sprawled out on the bed, face illuminated by the soft overhead lighting, long fingers scrolling his phone.

His eyes snap up to yours and he sends you a devilish grin that has your toes curling as he throws his phone to the side and you step through the doorway to slam the door closed muffling the party below.

He sits up on the bed and parts his legs, spreading them wide as you walk up to him.

You stand proud between his spread legs as he looks up at you, taking his time to push his hair back from his face.

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen close. Thank you for saving me from Jimin. Thank you for not lying to me about Taehyung. I saw him. He’s here.” You grit out keeping your hands bawled into fists at your side.

“And you're still standing and haven’t been turned to dust by those thank yous. I’m surprised.” He teases as you frown at him.

“I think the words you are looking for are you’re welcome.” You tease back as he grins at you.

There is a strange silence that hangs in the air. You said all you needed to and had every intention of turning around and storming out, but something was holding you in place maybe it was Hoseok’s intense gaze.

“So you saw him then?” He asks softly, all the bite in his voice gone.

You nod your head feeling too exhausted to fight

“Did you…talk to him?” Hoseok asks and you are surprised at his question. All the two of you ever did was argue and fight, this was the first normal conversation you had with him in ages.

“No, I did not.” You say avoiding looking at him, instead finally taking in the decor of the room as a welcome distraction.

“You came all this way, snuck into a party you were not invited to, and tried to avoid me only to find him and not talk to him. Y/N you aren’t a coward I know that for sure.” He teases.

“He was preoccupied with someone else.” You say trying your best to avoid his gaze.

His hands come out to hold your wrists and he runs his thumbs over your palm in soothing circles.

“When he told me about the date I warned him to stay away from you. He’s my friend but I also know what he has a habit of doing. He didn’t believe me. Thought I was saying that because of how…we are. I’m sorry Y/N you must have been excited about him to go through all this trouble.” He says as you stare down at him in shock.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You ask flinching out of his grasp. This is all too much, this isn’t how it is with Hoseok and it’s throwing you off.

“Maybe because I do care? Ever thought of that.” He bites out standing from the bed as you cower under his intense gaze.

“N-No you don’t… don’t lie to me Hoseok.” You spit out feeling off-kilter at the new information.

Hoseok advances towards you until you are flushed up against the door. His hands come to rest above your head and he looks down at you with such anger in his features it makes you shiver.

“Like I lied about Kim Taehyung being here? Like I lied about who he came with? You keep painting me as a villain so I became your villain.” He growls in your ear.

You gasp when he slots his knee in between your legs and grinds it against your aching core, your skirt rides up and your flimsy underwear does nothing to hide your arousal as you grip his shirt for support.

“You know what. I’m going to lay it all out and well… you already hate me so it can’t get worse right?” He mutters as he pushes his knee harder into your core making you let out a high-pitched whine.

“You think I like arguing with you? Fighting with you? Do you think I like that I can’t have a normal conversation with you? I do it because it gets your attention. It’s a shit way to do it but you always have guys surrounding you, talking to you, complimenting you. And I can’t compete with that. So I get you angry, make you feel things so you keep your eyes on me. I’ve liked you for so long and you never wanted to give me a chance but if I get you mad… I get you. It’s shit I know I’m not proud of it. But it works. You came to this party for Taehyung but you're soaking wet right now for me and me only.” He growls as you arch your head back when one of his hands leaves the wall to trace down your side.

“You-hold on… you like me?” You breathe out as your head feels dizzy and you stare at his handsome face.

“God I’ve liked you for ages.” He whispers breath hot on your neck as he leans down and presses a soft sweet kiss to your exposed neck making you shiver and grip his shirt for dear life.

"Hobi.” You whine out as his eyes snap to yours.

You have never called him that before. It was always Hoseok.

“Use your words. Tell me?” He asks voice strained as he continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Please I can’t- I-.” You say breathlessly as you push him away trying to regain breath.

Hobi backs away and shoots you a dejected look as he stares at the floor, hair falling in front of his beautiful face.

Before you can speak, or explain he points to the door.

“You should go.” He mutters as he turns his back to you and flops back down on the bed.

You watch as he flops down and buries his face in the pillows. He looks so dejected and sad and your head is still spinning trying to process it all. He likes you. He confessed to liking you. No matter how much you thought you didn’t like him you can’t leave him like this.

You silently walk over and sit down on the bed, your hand comes out to rub soothing circles on his back.

He looks over to see you are still there and he slowly sits up.

“You can go. Don’t feel guilty and want to stay. You pushed me away. You don’t like me back. I get it.” He rambles fiddling with the bedspread not looking at you.

“Hobi. I just… I didn’t mean to give you that impression it’s just hard to think when you were pressing your knee into me like that. My body and brain couldn’t function.” You say with a small smile as his eyes finally snap up to yours.

“Let’s go back a bit. You like me?” You ask as he whines and covers his face with his hands.

“You don’t like me back. I get it. Don’t make me admit it again.” He says voice small and vulnerable as you grab his wrists to pull his hands away from his face.

“I never said I didn’t.”

His eyes widen.

“I came here for Taehyung but in the kitchen… I wanted to kiss you. I made you angry, I kept you talking because I wanted to buy myself more time so I could figure my feelings out. I’ve never thought about kissing you before.” You admit as he buries his face behind his hands and groans.

“Well, thanks that’s promising.” He responds as you pull him in for a hug trying to comfort him.

“Hobi you have liked me for a while and had tons of time to process your feelings. I haven’t. Two hours ago I thought I hated you.” You admit as he pulls out of your hug to stare at you.

“And now? How do you feel now?” He asks.

“Like I still really want to know what your lips taste like.” You say shyly

Hobi jumps up from the bed and for a second you wonder if you scared him off but he goes over to lock his bedroom door and races back to the bed.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He whispers breath hot against your face as he kneels on the floor before you.

You look down at him, his handsome face, eyes blown wide and you nod.

You place your hands on his shoulders for support and lean in as Hobi wastes no time pressing his lips into yours. His lips are soft and sweet and he takes his time with you, his tenderness surprising you as he keeps his hands respectfully on the bed.

You push your lips into his deepening the kiss and tangle your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck which causes a low groan to fall from his mouth.

You gasp and pull away as he stares up at you through heavy lids.

“Fuck Hobi.” You mutter, eyes flicking down to his lips which are slightly red from kissing, and when you look further down you can see a sizeable bulge tenting the front of his black pants.

“You are so hot when you moan.” You admit as he wastes no time and stands up to push you down on the bed. He crawls on top of you as you giggle and he is once again kissing you. His hands hold him up so he doesn’t crush you and his body flush against yours.

You can feel everything.

His lips which are soft but firm against yours, his hair which is tickling your face, his chest which presses against yours with such a delicious pressure it makes your nipples harden, and his cock, hard and straining against his pants as he pushes it into your thigh.

He grinds slowly against you as he continues to kiss your lips.

You moan and whine as he rolls to his side and drags you with him, tangling his free hand in your hair as he does so.

He continues to rut against your hip and your hands run down the front of his shirt, slipping under the expensive material to feel his bare heated skin on your palms.

“Fuck Y/N Fuck.” He moans out when your hands run over his nipples.

You grin.

You both pull away from the kiss and stare at each other breathing heavily and taking it all in.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“How do you…feel now?” He asks timidly and the blush that covers his cheeks is so cute it makes you grin.

“Like I want to kiss you again and again. And maybe do more.” You say and instantly he is on top of you again, kissing your lips and grinding his hard cock into your core.

You scratch at his back as you arch up to meet his hungry lips, your body rolling against his to relieve the ache between your legs that seems to be growing by the minute.

“You're so hot. Fuck you are so hot. Taehyung fucked up real bad ghosting you. Fuck.” Hobi whines out as he places kisses on your cheeks and moves down your neck to suck a harsh mark that has a broken moan falling from your parted lips.

His hands come down to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head and throws it somewhere in the room. His dark eyes widen when he takes in your dark bralette that is covered with delicate lace and his hands run up and down your stomach as you shamelessly grind into him.

“Please Ho-bi please.” You whine out as he rolls you both over so you are now straddling him. His hands effortlessly unclasp your bra and throw it as you can hear the bass bumping downstairs as the party continues, oblivious to what the host is doing right now.

His large fingers cup your breasts and when he flicks his thumbs over your nipples you grind down harder on his cock. He clenches his teeth as he squeezes your breasts massaging them in his large hands and making you arch your back, pushing yourself harder into his length.

“Fuck you know how long I have dreamed of this. Having you under me, or on top of me. Fuck.”

Hobi’s hands grab your thighs to part them further as you sit up a bit and he drags his knuckles between your wet folds, feeling how you have soaked through your underwear.

You let out a broken moan and he grins wickedly.

“Though you have been bad today. Acting like a fucking brat in the kitchen. I’m not going to let you get away with that so easily. Kneel on the bed ass up face down. Time for your punishment Princess.” He says forcefully pushing you off of him as you stare at him in shock.

“Come on now we don’t have all night.” He says tapping your thigh which has you scrambling to get in position for him.

“Good girl. Knew you could behave.” He growls as his hands lift your skirt and you bury your face in the pillows shivering in anticipation.

“I’m thinking Five Spanks because you have been a fucking brat for the five years I’ve known you.”

You nod as you bury your face further into the pillows and blankets and when the first spank hits you feel the zing all the way down to your curled toes.

Your ass is on fire and Hobi is chuckling darkly behind you as he massages the red flesh of your ass.

“One.”

The next three come one after the other and you are whining and crying on the bed. You try to squeeze your legs together to help with the ache.

“One more baby girl. One more.” He says as he lines up and spanks you hard. Your head falls into the mattress and his name falls like a prayer from your lips.

You can feel your arousal leaking down your pussy and without warning Hobi scoots on the bed and opens your legs harshly as he licks you up.

You cry out his name as he pulls your asscheeks apart to get better access to your dripping pussy and he licks your slit, dancing his tongue along making your stomach clench and your thighs tense up.

“Ho-Hobi fuck fuck!” You cry out as he licks and sucks at your clit. You flutter your eyes closed and let the prettiest whines and moans fall from your mouth. He is too good at that and is bringing you to the edge closer than you would like to be.

“Ho-Hobi gotta stop I’m gonna-please fuck.” You babble out as he lifts his head and softly kisses the red handprints on your ass.

“You got me too close. Fuck Hobi your mouth. Wow.” You say turning over to lay on your back as you stare at him slowly standing up and taking off his shirt.

Your eyes are met with miles of toned beautiful skin and when he undoes his pants with nimble fingers you are gasping. He pulls them down and you can see his hard cock straining against his boxers.

You scoot to the end of the bed and press soft kisses to his bare skin. Your lips start at his sternum and work down his body as his hands tangle in your hair. You take your time savoring his skin as you kiss down until your lips are right at the waistband of his boxers.

You bring your lips to his hipbone sucking the skin there as your hand moves to cup his impressive bulge.

Hobi lets out a whine as you begin to dance your fingers along his shaft and finally pull his boxers down as his length smacks your cheek.

“Fuck that’s so hot holy shit,” Hobi grits out as his fingers grab the base of his cock harshly and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Gonna cum already? Wow Hoseok.” You taunt him as his eyes grow dark and he grabs your arm harshly and forces you to kneel on the bed.

“Such a fucking brat Y/N I thought I’d be gentle with you but I think you prefer being manhandled huh? Is that why you fought me so much, you secretly got off on it?” He asks as he leaves you there to rifle through his room to find a condom.

“I think you get off on it Hoseok. Spanking me and eating my pussy nearly made you cum. I hardly touched you and you're ready to blow your load.” You shoot back as he tears open the condom packet and rolls it down his impressive length.

“You know how many times I’d be done arguing with you and having a raging hard-on after. I’d jerk myself off thinking about putting you in your place. Shutting you up with my cock in your mouth or in your pussy. I think you like the fire, like the danger. I think you like being put in your place as much as I like putting you in your place.” Hoseok says as he kisses you harshly.

This kiss was completely different than the soft slow ones earlier, this was all teeth and tongue and roughness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

His right-hand wanders down your body and he harshly rubs your clit which has you moaning into his mouth as he works you hard and fast, not giving you a second to recover as he kisses you with such force it nearly throws you back on the bed.

“What do you want Y/N… tell me.” He growls out as his hand continues to speed up on your clit causing broken moans to fall from your mouth as you bury your head into his shoulder.

You can’t think

Can’t breathe

Can’t concentrate

He plunges two fingers into your pussy and begins to scissor them harshly as you cry out against the bare skin of his shoulder.

He is saying things to you but you can hardly hear them over the music downstairs and the blood pumping in your ears.

You are close

So close to cumming all over his fingers.

Your hand reaches out to grab his bicep for support as you feel your whole body spasm, you are so close and the way his skilled fingers are moving you know you are going to cum soon.

Hoseok must feel it because right as you are on the edge he pulls back and you stare up at him in shock and anger as he takes his time licking his fingers clean.

“Hoseok what the fuck I was close you jerk!” You cry out as he smirks at you.

“I said use your words. What. Do. You. Want.” He says popping his fingers out of his mouth and staring you down with a heated gaze.

You go to reach for his cock, to give him the same treatment he gave you but he’s too quick and he swats your hand away.

“Again use your words. You never had any trouble telling me off before. Now tell me what you want.” He goads looking way too smug.

“You know what I want.” You fight back.

“Do I?” He challenges.

“Yes, you do.” You challenge back.

“God I love it when you are feisty. Makes me so fucking hard.” He says circling his hand around his cock and lazily pumping it.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him jerking his cock in front of you as you feel your arousal coat your thighs.

“Still not hearing the words I want. I could just stand here and jerk myself off and watch you suffer.” he teases as you grit your teeth.

“Wasn’t thanking you twice tonight enough.” You snap back as he throws his head back and laughs.

“Nah I want to hear it. Want to hear you beg me for my cock.” He says stepping forward to line his cockhead up with your folds.

He runs it up and down your slit letting your arousal coat him and you throw your head back and whine.

“Hoseok. Please.” You beg him grinding your hips down.

“God I love when you call me Hoseok. So fucking sexy.” He says still running his cockhead through your folds.

“Hoseok, please. Please fuck me.” You finally break as he smirks and grabs your body to push you down on the bed.

Face down ass up.

You bury your face once again in the messed up sheets as he kneels on the bed and spreads you open, taking his time teasing your pussy with his cockhead before slipping inside.

You cry out his name as he takes his time inching inside of you.

Once he bottoms out he rubs soft circles on your hips as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to take slow deep breaths to relax against his girth.

“Fuck you are so tight around me.” He says as he leans forward to press soft kisses along your spine.

You slowly roll your hips to adjust to his size and once the sting subsides you start to fuck yourself back against his cock which causes him to squeeze your hips.

“How are you holding up? Is it okay if I move?” He asks softly tracing patterns on your back.

“Hoseok fuck me. Please.” You cry out.

You can hear him snicker above you and right as his hips are about to move someone knocks on the door.

You freeze, eyes blown wide and heart hammering as Hoseok stills his movements, cock still inside of you.

“Hobi Hyung!” Comes a voice you recognize a little bit too well and you turn your head back to see Hoseok’s shocked face.

Taehyung is at the door knocking, while Hoseok is balls deep inside of you.

“Want to show him what he’s missing.” Hoseok growls and before you can answer he starts to fuck into you roughly.

You can’t help but cry out his name as you grip the sheets and feel his hard cock slide in and out of your pussy.

He delivers a light spank to your ass which has you shamelessly moaning loud enough for Taehyung to hear.

“Fuck Y/N you feel so good!” Hoseok moans out and you try to bite back your grin as you know for a fact Taehyung must have heard.

You can’t focus on Taehyung when Hoseok is ramming into you like his life depends on it so you continue to moan and cry out on the bed not caring if anyone could hear you or not.

Your stomach starts to tense and you can feel yourself getting close again.

Hoseok must realize because he angles his hips and starts to pound into your g-spot repeatedly causing your eyes to flutter closed and your hands to close around the bedsheets aggressively.

“Hoseok. Please. Don’t stop. Please.” You beg as he grabs your hips and forces you to fuck yourself back on his cock.

“Come on beautiful show that asshole what he missed out on. God this pussy is heaven I can’t wait to fuck you over and over and over. The only pussy I want to be buried in. Cum for me beautiful. Cum around my cock” Hoseok demands and you lose it.

You arch your back and cry out his name as you throw your head back. Your orgasm washes over you like waves and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock.

Hoseok hisses behind you as he continues to fuck into you but soon enough you feel him spill into the condom with a cry of your name.

You finally come down from your high as he pulls out of you and you flop down on your stomach and breathe deeply, feeling fuzzy but happy as you breathe in the scent of him all over the sheets.

You feel Hoseok move from the bed and return with a warm towel.

He takes his time spreading your cheeks to clean the mess of your pussy and you sigh happily when he throws the towel in the room and climbs into bed with you, laying on his side so he can look at your face.

“Wow, Hobi. Wow.” You whisper as you push stray hairs away from his face.

“I think this is the first time we agree on something.” He teases as you lightly smack his arm

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” You admit. “And I’m sorry for all the times I did.”

He softly smiles at you and kisses both your cheeks.

“Me too.” He agrees lacing his fingers with yours.

“Can I take you on a date sometime this week? Maybe get to know you without all the arguing?” He says softly kissing your knuckles which makes you giggle.

“Of course Hobi.”

You lay there taking each other in for a while before you both remember there is a party going on downstairs and you should probably rejoin it.

You take your time redressing, stealing glances at each other as you adjust your clothes.

A knock at the door makes you both look up.

“Hobi hyung! It’s important!” You hear Taehyung call and you smirk as Hobi laces his fingers through yours and throws the door open.

You both are clearly still disheveled and Tae’s mouth drops when he takes in the sight of you both, you purposely throw your hair back to show off the mark he sucked into your skin.

“Um.” He says eyes flicking between the both of you, jaw dropped.

“My-my date threw up and I want to know how to clean it?” He asks eyes narrowing in on the mark on your neck and shoulder.

You giggle.

“Hey Tae long time no see!” You say to him as he blushes under your gaze.

“The laundry room in the basement has everything you need. You can clean it I’m not your babysitter you know.” Hobi says as he pushes past Taehyung dragging you with him as you hide your giddy giggles behind your hands.

“Also please don’t ghost this one. It’s super embarrassing for you to keep doing that. You keep missing out on all of these amazing women because you're scared to commit.” Hobi throws over his shoulder as you bury your giggles in his arm and head back down to the party

[ronearoundblindly]

Ari- Baby is sick for the first time

Ari Levinson x best friend!reader (now fiancé)

New Parent Panic, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Warnings for protective!Ari, Ari not communicating, you doing the same, and then everyone gets their shit together and it's fluff. WC 2k *Off in the distance an ol' timey man pops up: "An argument, you say? You wrote an argument?? How different from your usual!!" Ha-ha. Yeah. We get it. Ro's the same hoe as last year... **I am not a mother. I know what would reasonably be categorized as zilch about babies. I have, however, seen this overwhelmed and guilty behavior from several of my peeps as they raise their youngins, so that's good enough for me. You're doing fine. I promise.

Sure, there was the rather severe diaper rash incident, and the time when nursing her turned your nipples into raw portals for a newly-discovered circle of hell, but nothing could have prepared you for this day.

Rachel was...meh this morning when Ari left for work. A little whiny, not sleeping well, but she's an infant; that's not new. Overall, she's actually been a very straight-forward baby.

And then you don't know what happened.

You napped very hard until noon (after only a moderately successful feeding) and by then Rach had a fever.

You called the nurses' hotline. You gave her the dose of baby meds. You're trying to keep her hydrated, at least, if she can't be happy right now. You just have to stay vigilant and wait it out.

But that's not easy.

She's crying and won't sleep, she'll barely eat, and you don't have a separate car. You only want to call Ari if it's to say "we need to take her to a doctor." You're not there yet.

So you do the shittiest feeling thing you can think of, the most painful thing, and you wait.

You don't sleep. You barely eat. You take Rachel's temperature like you are monitoring the possible meltdown of a nuclear reactor. One wiggle of a degree in the wrong direction, and that Bat Signal is going on.

I can do this, you tell yourself. I've wanted to be a mom for a long time, so I can do this.

Except you don't sleep and barely eat.

Ari arrives home precisely when he said he would, the exact number of minutes (after work shuts down for the day) that it takes to drive to the house, predictable, dependable, and utterly useless when he opens the door and asks "why is she crying?"

"Because she hates me," you blubber, holding her to your chest, arms cramped from cradling her for so many hours at this point.

"She need meds?"

Of course, I gave her the fucking meds.

"Hungry?"

No, asshole, I purposefully starved your fucking child for my own amusement.

"Calm down," Ari snips back. "I'm just trying to help."

Well then fucking help me!

By now, you likely look as if you're in a war zone: disheveled, manic, and possibly--definitely--hostile.

"Okay, okay, let me just take a piss and then I'll hold her."

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." You turn your back to him before grumbling, "not like I haven't had to hold it all afternoon..."

Ari's still-booted feet land heavily beside you again. "Then I'll take her now," he grits through clenched teeth, "and you can use the bathroom."

"No. I already have her."

"Fine. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

The way you lace the words with a sickly sweet melody has Ari spinning on a heel and staring at you through his long eyelashes, a tick in his jaw stopping him from saying something he might regret.

"Kid," he finally sighs, "just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

He runs a hand over his beard while he waits for your answer. A few seconds later, his hip juts out, arms akimbo, and he bites his bottom lip expectantly.

You just walk off toward your phone on the kitchen counter and call the nurse hotline back.

"I swear, woman," he mutters as you leave, but you're glad he can't hear you sniffle back a sob.

It should be reassuring that the nurse has no new advice for what to do. You're doing everything correctly. You're doing all you can. Don't worry. Keep checking her temp and giving her whatever fluids she'll take. That's all for now.

It doesn't feel like enough. It doesn't feel like all a mother can do.

Ari? Ari waltzes up to the fridge and cracks himself open a beer.

You don't even have words, only flaming hot vibes that will melt his face like a Spielberg movie--you have got to stop watching movie marathons during late-night breast-feeding--if you stare hard enough at his casual blue gaze.

"So," he begins, "you figure out what I gotta do?"

What had been steady whimpering from Rachel has amplified into wails that bring tears to both hers and your eyes.

They just fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them from your chin before they can fall onto your screaming child.

Ari's judging frown makes your stomach turn while he steps closer, bends at the knees, and takes his little girl in hand.

Less than a minute later, Rachel stops, and you just cannot fucking handle it. The only quiet moment you've had in six and a half hours he gets to enjoy moments after coming home.

That's not fair. Cure fucking cancer already, Levinson, and save us the goddamn grief!

The tears and the tired are choking you.

Ari tells you to go freshen up in the bathroom, but that is the most horribly wrong way to say anything to you, ever, in a moment like this.

You stomp out the front door, rip open the sliding back door of the SUV, and crawl onto the cab floor. Once the latch clicks behind you, face buried in the blanket kept on Rachel's car seat, you scream.

You whimper and you cry and you get your fucking time to be angry at all your feelings today because it's bullshit.

You didn't take your own temperature. You didn't get rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't take any medicine. All you keep going over in your mind is whether or not you were sick first. Did you have something you gave to your daughter? Is this your fault?

So the tears and the choking continue for...as long as they take.

You don't know how much time has passed before the car door is yanked open again. Thank the stars you are facing away. You can't look at Ari right now.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

His big, warm hand rubs across your back, making you sink further into the upholstery.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

Ari likes to call Rachel a part of his 'squad,' so he talks to your infant daughter like they're going on 'missions' to the store or getting a bottle from the 'mess.' Your bedroom has thus become the 'barracks.'

Sometimes, he holds her sitting up against his chest and uses her feet to 'march' the pair of them across the house.

Left. Left. Left right left.

And almost always, there's a giggle, too.

"Up you go, kid," Ari huffs, maneuvering you into his arms.

"No," you whine, so tired you can't tell what it is you don't want.

He just keeps saying, "I know. I know," until he's carried you inside.

Instead of taking you to the couch or the bed, Ari sits you both down in the front hall, balancing you on his lap while he loosens his boot laces and finally kicks the sturdy shoes off, placing them on the mat a couple feet away.

He presses his lips to your temple, rough beard gently scrubbing over your eyelid and cheek.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. He doesn't expect to have this same argument again, not like this, but his point still stands. "You know, you're warm, too."

If it's another question, you don't answer that either. You change the subject.

"Did you take her temp?"

He nods, and the number he tells you is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, or rather, thirty minutes before he came home.

Ari squeezes you tighter. "You want to get into bed, and I'll bring your some juice and meds, huh? Meet you in there?"

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He pulls away, smacking his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

How are there more tears left in your body? You should be nothing but a shriveled husk at this rate.

"Bullshit," he practically seethes. "Don't you ever say that again."

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop."

"--you were--"

"Stop it," he blurts, firm and serious.

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!" Your most powerful voice only comes out as high whisper. "Me. I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done, and I thought I could just--" you swing an arm out dramatically "--and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

"No, kid. She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause your comfy and you smell good--"

"--not sure about that--"

"--and she loves you," you bemoan.

Ari snorts out a laugh.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, soothing you with petting hands wherever he can reach. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

He finds your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it, spinning it gently on your finger. He hasn't gotten to make good on his promise. Planning a wedding, even a small one, with a newborn is almost impossible, but that seems to be part of the problem.

Anything to do with you or you two feels selfish when there's three. Guilt grips you when you stop to daydream about your big day because it's not about Rachel. She's the most important thing. She will trump you forever as the single most--

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari's timbre rattles close to your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat.

"Almost not fair, really," he drawls. "You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile, the salt from dried tears on your lips flooding your mouth.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" Ari scuttles on the floor to evade your attack on his ribs. "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He easily grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

There's a different lump of emotion lodged deep in your chest. You only nod because you can't speak.

He makes your foreheads meet.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

That's when you realize what bothers you so much: Ari should need you to raise Rachel, but you never truly acknowledged you might need him to raise her, too.

This enormous weight of clutching every thread of life in your own two hands isn't real. You can share. You are meant to share your life with Ari. Ari is meant to share his life with you. Rachel shares life with you both, as she is meant to share with everyone around her. It's a lesson she has the opportunity to learn a lot younger than you, apparently.

He gets you to drink a whole bottle of water. He brings you some food and medicine while he handles some laundry and cleans out the day's bottles. He leads you with both hands to the bathroom, finally, and then gets you settled in bed.

As you fall asleep, you watch Ari take Rach's temperature again.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand over her.

"High five?" he whispers. "No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

The last thing you see is Ari playfully lifting her from the basinet, sneaking out to the living room to enjoy a movie marathon, just for a little bit, snuggling together while he winds down for the night.

All that matters is she's safe and happy.

That, and of course, waking up in Ari's arms, listening to his slow breathing and Rachel's faster, baby huffs. You can handle anything because you made it through today and you have them.

[Ari's POV for this day]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @yenzys-lucky-charm

[danosrosegarden]

Make up sex after Edward breaks out of Arkham and comes to see you? You’re both crying and when he first woke you up reader was all angry and beating on his chest saying you hated him.

i gave my trust, i shed my blood - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (slight NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ mentions of violence, angst/anger and fluff mix, reader gets touched (genitals not specified)}

{word count ♡ ~800}

♡ he did it for you. through every moment of ghostly, freezing cold loneliness, every second of heart-twisting torment, every time you tasted the bitter, gritty coat of betrayal on your tongue, you should know that this was the truth: he did it for you.

♡ life was laboriously stagnant after edward was gone, each day stuck in the same aching, dreary limbo. you wake up, sleep crusted in the corners of your eyes. you forget to shower, forget to drink water, forget to eat, forget to do anything other than stare at the walls in the dark and feel as empty and destitute as a voice called out in a raging winter storm. the world was too loud. your screams were too quiet. what's the point in trying anymore.

♡ you think of the laughter laced within the bumps in the wall, all the memories injected into the picture frames and posters. each snapshot of life with him felt waterlogged and disintegrated now. there was the table you served each other dinner on. he hid it all from me. there was his book of crosswords he'd spend hours lost in each night. he murdered, spilled people's blood, reveled in them pleading for their lives. there was the polaroid taken in the park on your anniversary. grinning, cheeks pressed together, the sun beating down on your faces. he let himself get stolen away from me. he robbed us of the rest of our lives.

♡ you went through turbulent, crashing waves. there were the moments where your heart pumped warm love into your bloodstream, the moments where you thought of his face with a longing nostalgia. there were the moments you wept with your face in your hands, your body quivering and your eyes reddened with the mourning tint of what could've been. there were the moments you'd scream in your pillow until your throat was raw and stripped, the moments where you wish you could see him again just so you had the chance to claw his eyes out and slit his throat. how dare you do this to me. did all i gave to you mean nothing?

♡ you'd had a couple months to come to terms with the fact that you'd only ever see edward nashton again in news reports, which is why when you wake one night to hear the window crack and feel your bed shift with somebody's weight, you scream.

♡ gloved hands smack against your mouth and for some unexplainable reason, you soften against the feeling of the intruder's fingers.

♡ "i can't stay long."

♡ the gasp that comes whooshing like a windstorm out of your throat is instantaneous. he's wrapping his hands around you. he's pulling you in close. it feels completely foreign yet altogether instinctual, the way you reciprocate, like uncovering a time capsule. you want to feel the anger melting away like snow in the sun, but all that's left behind is the slushy, gray resentment. you're fragile; not fragile like a flower, fragile like a bomb.

♡ you shove him off of you. get the fuck away from me. your voice crackles like a thunderstorm, breaks like a tree limb in the lightning. you already feel the warm, shameful tears welling up, the tight-knit knot balling up in your throat.

♡ you missed him. with every blood cell floating through your body, with every wrinkle in your brain, with every eyelash and strand of hair. you missed him with your entire being. but there was also something gnawing from within that wanted to hate. something that craved the snap of bones and the gush of blood. you felt the two collide and battle within you.

♡ above all else, you were tired. dizzyingly exhausted. of missing him. of thinking about him. of waiting for him to return...and here he was. you could finally freefall into an all-enveloping slumber.

♡ edward shushes you through your sniveling babbles. i missed you, eddie. i hate you, eddie. i can't live without you, eddie. please don't go, eddie.

♡ his gentle, trembling touch feels like home. there was that edward you knew; always so anxious to get his hands on you, eyes always so wide with twinkling desire and dazzling hunger.

♡ i can't stay long, he repeats as his hand slithers down between your legs. you can already feel the bliss blossoming from where his fingers brush up against you.

♡ you don't care how long this moment will last; the feeling of his warm, gloved fingers touching your most sensitive areas and the familiar sound of his sputtering gasps bring you back to those moments. the moments of domestic euphoria, the moments where you two were infinite. with those old memories flickering in your gut, it was almost as if this would go on forever.