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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 days ago

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The Best Kind Of Medicine

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f! Reader

POV: Soldier Boy

Tropes: Established Relationship, Navigating New Relationship Jitters, FLUFF

Summary: When Ben hasn't heard from you in a few days, he drops by only to find you in a compromising position.

Warnings: Cursing, Soldier Boy being mean to Hughie (because apparently that's something I always do?), Mention of a strip club? Soldier Boy being a little sexist, Soldier Boy (because he's a warning and we all know it). Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC. It's mostly fluff y'all.

Word Count: 2.9K

Note: Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

A/N: This is for @winchesterwild78 💗 I know this is far from small, but I'm sorry that you're sick and I hope that you feel well soon sweetie 🥰

Rain misted through the air, swirling and floating in the yellowed light from the streetlights coating everything in shades of gray as Ben trudged down the dampened sidewalks in the direction of your home. It caught against his leather jacket and slid underneath to drip down his collar, but Ben didn’t feel the chill.

It had been three days since he’d last seen or heard from you, given his history with dangerous supes, Ben felt an odd feeling tighten in the pit of his stomach.

The two of you had been together for three months, navigating through the awkward phase where Ben didn’t understand what it meant to be monogamous and through the awkward phase of what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a supe.

Ben was still adjusting to that, but he was getting better each day.

He frowned for a moment and tried not to think about how fragile you were, or how someone could and would use that against him if they got the chance.

Ben was worried about you.

He’d been out of town on a mission and unable to pull away from Butcher’s watchful eye. And Ben didn’t like that you hadn’t at least tried to call him.

When the two of you had started dating, Ben hadn’t understood why you kept calling him so much or texting him, the old him would have rolled his eyes and called you “clingy,” but now he craved it. He liked to hear your sleepy voice over the phone as you fought to stay awake late at night, liked to hear you bitch about something crazy that one of your co-workers had done, and Ben loved seeing random texts from you during his day that you sent just to tell him that you were thinking of him or that you missed him and texts making plans to see him at the end of your day.

He sweeps the outside of your apartment building with a critical eye, looking for some sign of forced entry, but finds nothing and instead types in the security code you gave him.

Ben frowns slightly at the darkened hallway, the flickering light that the super never wanted to fix no matter how many times you asked, and the faded red carpet that leads to your apartment.

Ben hated where you lived, but you loved it. It was within walking distance of your favorite coffee shop, your favorite bookstore, and your job- the same one that you often called to complain about and Ben lended an ear to hear you complain, getting just as outraged as you at your boss and the people you had to deal with everyday. He liked learning how your day was, it was the kind of normal that he wasn’t used to, and honestly, it made him feel more connected to your life.

Ben didn’t realize how much he wanted the life he had with you until he’d gotten it, and like hell he was going to lose it now.

Ben briefly wonders if he’d done something to offend you. He’d done that more times than he could count and it usually took a cup of coffee the way you liked it

He stops outside your door, eyes scanning the worn wood for signs of foul play, but he finds none. Ben knocks once and waits, but you don’t answer. The odd feeling in his chest tightens again, and just as he prepares to kick down the door he hears something stir inside.

The soft shuffle of your feet within as you make your way to the front door is thunderous in his ears, but at the same time it brings a surge of relief. It meant that you were alive.

Ben opens his mouth to ask you why the hell you hadn’t called him as the door opens, but the thought fizzles to a stop when he looks at you.

Your t-shirt is inside out and half-tucked into your sweatpants, as if you’d done it in a hurry, and you have the quilt from your bed up over your head, shielding your eyes from the light in the hallway. Ben’s eyes skate to your face, where your eyes are squinted and your cheeks and nose are flushed bright red with fever.

“Ben?” You croak, your voice hoarse and sticking on his name. “You’re back?”

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Ben steps towards you and you turn away to cough, raising the blanket to cover your face for a moment. Ben can hear the way your bones shake as you do and he feels his heart tighten in his chest like a vice.

“I have a cold.” You clear your throat, but it only makes you sound worse. “I was going to call but-” Your body wobbles slightly, as if the effort of being upright is too much and Ben reaches forward to pull you into his arms.

He steps forward into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him, but he doesn’t look away from your face. Ben can feel the feverish warmth of your skin through your thin clothes.

Shit.

He didn’t know the first thing about how to deal with someone being sick. He’d never, never been sick, not since he’d gotten the injection to become a supe. He figured that was because his immune system got boosted just as much as the rest of him. Not to mention the only experience he had with someone being cared for when they were sick were the memories he had of his childhood with his mother.

He could remember the cool drag of the cloth over his forehead, the taste of the chicken soup on the tip of his tongue, and the way his mother rubbed his back as he drifted off to sleep.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Ben didn’t know how to do any of those things. Not to mention he figured that medicine had changed in the past hundred years and he wasn't sure what would help you.

You shiver, but turn away from Ben’s face. “No. Put me down.” You wheeze half-heartedly. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

Truthfully, you were a little bit embarrassed that Ben was seeing you like this. You wanted him to think of you as a beautiful sexy woman, not as a snot-filled, feverish mess that couldn’t take care of yourself. You didn’t want to scare him away.

“I don’t get sick Sweetheart.” Ben chuckles, dragging his finger down your warm cheeks to push the hair that sticks to your sweaty forehead out of your face.

He couldn’t believe that even when you were this sick you were still worried about him. Ben hadn’t met someone as soft and generous as you in a long time, someone who was willing to give him pieces of yourself and care for him in a way that no one ever had, not since his mother anyway.

“Please go I’m okay-” Your voice cracks and your body descends into a fit of coughing, covering your mouth the best you can.

Ben can feel the spasm of your body in his arms. He waits until you can speak again before he answers you. “I’m not going to leave my girl, not when she's like this.”

“But-”

“No buts. So stop telling me to fucking go.” Ben frowns at your flushed cheeks, before he turns back to the door preparing to walk you to the urgent care across the street.

“Where are we going?” You murmur into his shirt. It was still wet from the rain outside, but you didn’t care. You’d missed Ben over the past few days, and even though you were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this, you were happy that he was here. You hated when he went on missions, it made you worry even though you knew your boyfriend was a little more indestructible than everyone else.

“To see a doctor.”

It was the only thing that he could think to do, given that Ben had no idea how to make chicken soup nor would he try, given it would make him feel like a fucking pussy to step foot in your kitchen.

“I went today.” You curl into Ben’s chest, fingers loosely gripping the front of his shirt, voice still no more but a wisp of what it usually is.

“And you didn’t fucking call me!?” Ben snaps, but he’s not angry, he’s frustrated.

Ben hated seeing you like this, seeing the woman he cared about weak and fragile, it was like seeing a shell of the person you usually were. The woman who made him smile despite how much you annoyed him, the woman who made him feel differently than everyone else, and the woman who was changing everything for him.

And the thought that you spent the past three days like this without anyone to help you made his heart clench in his chest.

“I’m fine-” You choke out. “Just have a cold.”

To be honest you weren’t sure if this was really happening or if you were having a fever dream. You couldn’t breathe through your nose, your head was swimming, and you were cold, despite being in Ben’s arms.

Ben sighs. He hated how stubborn you were, but he turned back from the door despite how much he wanted to take you back to a doctor and have them look at you.

The quilted blanket drags along the ground as Ben steps lightly through your darkened apartment finding his way to your bedroom. He’d been there enough times to know his way around. The two of you spent more time together here than at his anyway.

Your bedroom is just as dark as the rest of the apartment, but Ben can still see. There are balled up Kleenex strewn all over the floor, half-drunk bottles of gatorade and water on your bedside table, and an unsettling amount of empty Mucinex bottles on the dresser.

Your laptop is sitting open on your bed, the dull glow of the screen sending a whitish-blue hue over the headboard.

“Why do you have that out now?” Ben asks as he places you in your bed.

“I was doing some work-” You say hoarsely. “Have a presentation-” You slur.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

She’s been doing work like this, but she didn’t fucking call me?

“Ben, I’m fine.” You shake your head to clear it as if that’ll make the congestion go away, but it doesn’t. “I just need some more nyquil.”

Ben stops your hand before you reach the bottle. “How much of that have you drank?”

Your bleary gaze turns on him, not quite focusing. “I’m not sure. One bottle? A bottle and a half?”

“A whole bottle!”

“I’m fine-” You sneeze loudly interrupting your train of thought and making your head rattle. You blink your eyes a few times, glancing up into Ben’s face looking confused. “Have you always had a beard?”

Fuck she’s delusional.

“Yeah baby I have.”

She wouldn’t be able to stop me if I took her back to a doctor.

“Really?” You raise a hand to squish his cheeks, eyes narrowing suspiciously as if you don’t believe him. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmm.” He hums, taking your wrist and putting your hand back down under the blankets to warm you. Your skin was clammy and sweat beaded along your forehead.

He’s again frustrated that he doesn’t know what to do. He’d never felt this helpless before and never wanted to care for someone else. But, fuck, he wanted to take care of you and he was far from used to that feeling. Not when in the past he would have called that urge “feminine” and “fucking useless.”

Ben wracks his brain thinking of something that he can do other than stand there like a fucking idiot, but he’s got nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“Ben please go, I don't want you to see me like this.” Your voice comes out nasally and you reach for the box of tissues on your bedside table, weaving your hand through the half empty bottles of gatorade to find it. The room fills with the obnoxious sound as you blow it.

Ben watches you sink a little further into the bed with a soft moan, the blankets covering you doing little to stop the cold chill that raced down your spine.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ben asks.

“I-” Another cough shakes through your body. “We’ve only been together a few months and I didn’t want you to-” You sneeze again so loud that the bed shakes beneath you. “Get grossed out by me or something.”

When you’d told him that you were tired of just sleeping together and wanted to be more, he scoffed at the idea. He didn’t have relationships, hadn’t tried since Countess, and certainly wasn’t ecstatic about going through something like that again. He'd said no initially and walked away, but then he'd thought about it, agonized over it, sat in a strip club and felt absolutely nothing for any of the women in front of him, and woke you up in the middle of the night by banging on your front door and telling you that he wanted to try.

You were different. Ben knew that and he treated you differently than any other woman he’d ever known. You deserved that.

“Is that why you didn’t call me?” He tried to fight the disappointment that pulled at his heart. He hated the idea that you were afraid to call to tell him that you were like this, that you worried it would drive him away if you showed a version of yourself that wasn’t perfect or together and you’d rather suffer all by yourself in this dark apartment.

Personally, Ben thought you looked just as beautiful now as you usually did whenever he came over. Sure your cheeks were still flushed with fever, your eyes were watery, and your hair was a tangled mess, but you were still you.

And he’d missed you more than he realized.

Ben felt the warm feeling that he always did whenever he was around you begin to bubble up. It was the same one that made him want to cut and run sometimes, a feeling that he couldn’t ever put a name to and hadn’t felt with anyone else before.

You try to nod, but stop when it makes you dizzy. “I thought I’d be better by the time you got home.” Your voice wheezes slightly and you pull the blankets up under your chin to fight the shiver that courses through you.

Ben sighs looking at where you sit bundled in the bed, curled slightly in on yourself. “Sweetheart-” He sits down. “I know that I’m not the easiest man to be around, but you’re not going to gross me out.” He gently pushes back more of the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead and you lean into Ben’s touch, sighing softly. “You can’t help that you’re sick.”

“But I look-”

“You look beautiful.” Ben mutters, before moving his hand down from your forehead to your back. “Now, no more talking. I want you to get some sleep.”

“But-”

“Baby.” Ben says sternly, but it doesn’t hold the same weight, not when he’s trying his hardest not to fold you up into his chest and run you to the hospital himself. “You need to sleep.”

“I have to finish my presentation-”

“No.” He pushes away the laptop, shutting it with a loud slap and he hopes that he didn’t break it. "You need to sleep. It'll make you feel better."

Then again, maybe that’s better. Better I fucking break it than her do work like this. I’ll buy her a new one when she’s better.

You’re too tired to fight him, eyes blinking away sleep. “Okay.” Your voice slurs a little as you sink deeper into the blankets, and Ben’s hand continues to rub soft circles into your back. It’s the only thing that he can think of to do.

You hum to yourself, hands curling in front of your face as you allow the warm touch of your boyfriend’s hand, soothe you.

And just when he thinks that you’ve fallen asleep he hears you whisper:

“I love you Ben.”

Ben’s entire body tenses with the words, his hand slowing to a stop against your back. He waits for you to say something else, to laugh or giggle, say "just kidding," but all you do is slip deeper into sleep. It’s the first time that you’ve ever said it to Ben, and the first time that Ben has heard those words in over forty years.

The warm feeling begins to creep back in again the longer he sits there with you.

He stares down at where you lie listening to your heartbeat begin to slow, watching your breath come in gentle gasps, watching the way you curve towards where he’s sitting subconsciously while you sleep as if you wish to be closer to him all the time, and noticing the way the end of your lips pull up in a smile.

And there in the darkness of your bedroom, while you’re asleep, and no other living soul can hear him, Ben allows himself this one indulgence, to say the one little thing that he’d never admit he was afraid to do.

“I love you too Sweetheart.” He murmurs, continuing to rub his hand in soft circles on your back.

When he's sure that you're asleep, Ben shrugs off his jacket and pulls out his cellphone. There was only one person that he could think of to call at a time like this. As much as he didn't want to, Ben needed someone to tell him what to do.

“What the fuck do I do if someone has a cold?” Ben says as loudly as he dares into the phone.

“Ben?” Hughie answers mildly confused. Ben never called him, ever, but Ben believed that Hughie was just the kind of pussy to know how to deal with something like this.

“Yeah fuck-face it’s me.”

“Um-”

“Tell me what the fuck to do if someone has a cold!” Ben repeats, but then lowers his voice just a little bit so as not to wake you up. His eyes flick down to where you’re lying, but you don’t stir.

“Fine.” Hughie sighs on the other side of the line, used to the way Ben spoke to him. Hughie had given up trying to be friends with him months ago. “You should get a pen.”

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles #jackles #the boys

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koyagifs · 2 days ago

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𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

pairing: hongjoong x reader ft. seonghwa au: idol | established relationship genre: fluff word count: 1.6 k synopsis: he was nervous - of course he was. He was finally proposing to the love of his life. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities

Hongjoong sat at his studio desk, fingers tapping anxiously on its surface as his thoughts raced in every direction. Behind him, Seonghwa lounged on the couch, lazily flipping through his phone, though his occasional glances at Hongjoong betrayed his amusement at his friend’s evident panic.

Valentine's Day was just around the corner, and for the first time in years, Hongjoong felt completely out of his depth. Each year since you’d been together, he had poured his heart and soul into creating something special for you. And each year, he had managed to outdo himself—a handmade photo album with a song he’d written for you, a surprise getaway to your dream destination, even an art piece that took him weeks to complete.

But now, as the holiday loomed closer, he had no idea how to top any of it.

In his hands, he held a small velvet box, its deep navy hue rich and timeless. Inside was the ring he had carefully picked out for you on your very first anniversary together—a token of his love and a promise he hadn’t spoken aloud just yet.

He had always known he was going to marry you. From the moment you came into his life, everything had shifted, like his world had suddenly clicked into place. You had a way of grounding him when his mind raced too far ahead, of inspiring him when he felt lost, and of loving him so completely it left him breathless.

The thought of proposing had been on his mind for so long that it almost felt surreal to finally be here. It wasn’t just about the ring or the act of asking—it was about what it meant. A future with you. A lifetime of love, laughter, and the kind of partnership he’d always dreamed of.

“You’re overthinking this, Hongjoong. She’s going to love it,” Seonghwa said casually, barely glancing up from his phone as he lounged on the couch in the corner of the studio.

Hongjoong, however, was far from convinced. He stood in the middle of the room, pacing back and forth, the small velvet ring box clutched tightly in his hands. “But what if it’s not enough? What if it’s too simple? What if—”

“Joong,” Seonghwa interrupted, finally putting his phone down and sitting up to give him a pointed look. “It’s not about how elaborate the proposal is. It’s about you two. About the fact that you’re asking her to spend the rest of her life with you. That’s already perfect enough.”

Hongjoong stopped pacing and turned to face Seonghwa, his brow furrowed. “But this is such a big deal, Hwa. I’ve been planning this for so long, and I just want it to be everything she’s ever dreamed of.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Hongjoong, you’ve been in love with her since the moment you met her. You’ve shown her every single day how much she means to you. She’s not going to care about the details—she’s going to care about the fact that it’s you asking her. That’s what makes it special.”

Hongjoong stared at the velvet box in his hands, turning it over slowly. He knew Seonghwa was right, but the nerves bubbling in his chest wouldn’t settle. He had always been a perfectionist, and this moment felt like it had to live up to every dream he’d ever imagined for the two of you.

Seonghwa stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “You’re ready for this, Joong. Stop doubting yourself. She’s going to say yes, and it’s going to be one of the best moments of both of your lives.”

Hongjoong exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his body. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Seonghwa said with a grin. “And if you don’t stop freaking out, I might just propose for you.”

That earned a laugh from Hongjoong, who finally cracked a smile. “Alright, alright, I’ll calm down. Thanks, Hwa.”

“Anytime,” Seonghwa replied, giving his shoulder a squeeze before heading back to the couch. “Now, go rehearse whatever speech you’ve got planned. Not that you’ll need it—she’s going to be too busy saying yes to care.”

Hongjoong chuckled, his nerves replaced by a growing sense of excitement. Seonghwa was right. This wasn’t about perfection—it was about the love he shared with you. And that, he knew, was more than enough.

➴ [ 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒚 ]

Yunho and Yeosang were masters of distraction, effortlessly keeping you entertained as Seonghwa and Hongjoong worked behind the scenes. The three of you were out for what you believed was just a casual hangout—Yunho had suggested lunch at your favorite café, and Yeosang, ever the conspirator, insisted on checking out the new bookstore across the street. You didn’t suspect a thing, though you couldn’t help but wonder why they seemed so intent on filling every moment with plans. You wanted nothing more then to just spend the day with your boyfriend that finally had a day off.

Meanwhile, back at your shared apartment, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were hard at work. The once-cozy living space had been transformed into a romantic wonderland. Soft fairy lights hung across the walls, casting a warm, golden glow. Flower petals on the ground into a heart shape, their sweet scent filling the air. Candles flickered softly on every available surface, and a playlist of songs that held special meaning for you and Hongjoong played quietly in the background. Heart shaped balloons filled the air, and the final piece : will you marry me letters.

“Careful with that,” Seonghwa muttered as Hongjoong adjusted his tie.

“I know, I know,” Hongjoong replied, rubbing his hand together. “This has to be perfect.”

“It is,” Seonghwa assured him, his tone calm and encouraging. “She’s going to love it. Stop second-guessing yourself.”

Hongjoong nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. This moment had been months in the making, and with each passing second, his excitement—and nerves—grew.

Just as Seonghwa lit the last candle, Hongjoong’s phone buzzed with a message from Yunho: We’re heading back now. Be ready!

“They’re on their way,” Hongjoong said, his voice tight with anticipation.

Seonghwa clapped him on the back. “You’ve got this. Take a deep breath and remember—this is about the two of you. Nothing else matters.”

As the sound of the front door opening reached their ears, Hongjoong took his place by the table, the velvet box now resting in his hand. Seonghwa slipped off to the side, giving him space for the moment that was about to unfold.

When you stepped into the apartment, the sight before you took your breath away. The soft glow of the lights, the warmth of the candles, and the unmistakable effort that had gone into creating this magical atmosphere left you speechless.

You were in awe as you stepped into the apartment, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes scanned the transformed space. The soft, golden glow of the fairy lights, the flickering warmth of the candles, the delicate arrangements of your favorite flowers—it was all so beautiful, so intimate, and so perfectly you.

Your steps faltered as tears stung your eyes, the overwhelming wave of love and effort behind it all sinking in. “Oh my God…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you took it all in.

Standing in the middle of it all was Hongjoong, looking as nervous as he did radiant. His hands fidgeted slightly, but his gaze on you was steady, filled with so much love it made your chest ache.

“Joong…” you managed, your voice thick with emotion. “What is this?”

He stepped forward slowly, meeting you halfway, the small velvet box cradled carefully in his trembling hand. The sight of it made your breath hitch, and before you could stop them, tears spilled over, streaming freely down your cheeks.

Hongjoong dropped to his knees in front of you, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest. His own tears threatened to fall, his emotions teetering on the edge as he looked up at you with a gaze so full of love it nearly broke him.

“I…” he began, his voice catching as he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. His fingers tightened around the box as he took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I had this whole speech planned, but now that you’re here, I can’t even think straight.”

You let out a watery laugh, your hands coming up to cover your mouth as you continued to cry, happiness spilling out of you in waves.

Hongjoong smiled through his tears, his voice trembling as he spoke again. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, Yn. From the day you walked into my life, you’ve made everything brighter, everything better. You’ve been my partner, my muse, my everything. And all I want is to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.”

He opened the velvet box with shaky hands, revealing the ring you could already tell had been chosen with so much thought and care. The sight of it made your heart swell, your tears falling even faster.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly as his own emotions finally spilled over, tears slipping down his cheeks.

You couldn’t speak for a moment, overwhelmed by the love and vulnerability in his voice. All you could do was nod, furiously and repeatedly, as you finally found your voice through your sobs. “Yes, Joong, yes!”

A relieved laugh escaped him as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling even more than before. The moment it was in place, he stood, pulling you into his arms and holding you as tightly as he could.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest as you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt.

#hongjoong x reader fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fluff #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #ateez #hongjoong x reader ateez #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x you #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ hongjoong ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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tfwbluu · 2 days ago

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lowk thinking about jake letting his favorite hyung aka heeseung get a taste of his girlfriends pussy and maybe double penetration. reader has been very clingy and close with heeseung so jake thinks he's the perfect guy she'd feel comfortable with (and they're both soft with her too).

Sleepless nights spent with two pretty best friends <3

It wasn’t intentional. Meeting Heeseung through your boyfriend, Jake, should have been just that—a simple introduction. But it didn’t take long before you found yourself clinging to the older man with the same enthusiasm you had for Jake.

Jake noticed how close you and Heeseung had become, but he never seemed to mind. Even as the lines between friendship and something more began to blur, he never pulled away. He loved you, and whether Heeseung realized it or not, he had grown fond of you too.

Now, you were pressed against Jake, his oversized shirt barely clinging to your form as Heeseung settled between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. His tongue traced slow, teasing patterns over your folds, savoring every gasp and tremble he pulled from you.

“Such a sweet little pussy,” Heeseung murmured, lips brushing against your sensitive clit before sucking lightly, making your back arch against Jake’s chest.

“Is she always this sensitive? She’s already shaking,” Heeseung teased, his tongue still lapping at your drenched core, savoring every reaction. Jake only smirked, his firm grip keeping your legs spread open, leaving you completely at their mercy.

“You’ve been fantasizing about this, huh, doll?” Jake murmured, his lips trailing soft, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “Been wanting us to fuck you nice and good, mhm?”

Heeseung chuckled against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “She’s already soaked, Jae. I think she’s been waiting for this for a long time.”

“Seungie… Jaeyun… want more,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in Heeseung’s hair, pressing yourself further into Jake’s warmth.

Jake hummed, his hand stroking your side soothingly. “Think you can handle more, angel?”

You nodded eagerly, a desperate plea in your eyes. Heeseung chuckled at your neediness, his fingers pressing into your skin.

“Well, gotta give her what she wants, Jae.”

After endless teasing and foreplay, you found yourself on your hands and knees, gripping the back of the couch as Jake thrust into you from behind, his strokes slow yet deep, making you tremble with each movement. His hands were firm on your hips, his groans mixing with your muffled moans as Heeseung took his pleasure from your lips, standing in front of you. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, relishing the way you struggled to keep up with them both.

“Such a good girl for us,” Jake murmured, his body pressing against your back, his lips grazing the nape of your neck with lazy kisses. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?”

Your response was lost around Heeseung’s length, your mouth working sloppily over him as he let out a strained groan.

“Taking us so well,” he mocked, his grip tightening in your hair. “So greedy and eager.”

“C’mon, baby, suck him off properly,” Jake instructed, his hand joining Heeseung’s to control your movements, forcing you to take more. “That’s it.”

It didn’t take long before all three of you unraveled—Jake spilling deep inside you while Heeseung groaned as you swallowed around him. The night was far from over, and with the way they were still touching you, teasing you, it was clear you weren’t getting any sleep.

note didn’t know what type of double penetrating you mean anon but i’ve been having thoughts of being manhandled to suck their dicks so bad so this is lowkey self indulgent anyway… just sweet old ramyeonz having their way with jae’s girl and maybe end up becoming more after <33 just a lil smth while i continue to work on some reqs

taglist @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

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thedemoninme141 · 1 day ago

Text

The Maiden Of Death Part 3

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 9K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3

Summary: Wednesday finally gets a glimpse of your power.

Warnings: Wednesday starting to fall? JelousWednesday! Everyone loves Enid.

(Author's note: This is a very long chapter, and ALOT OF THINGS happens in this chapter, and also had to change some things here and there which is why it took me a lot of thinking and time writing, so any feedback will be helpful!)

As Wednesday entered the quad during Lunch period, her gaze immediately fell on her usual table, where Enid was enthusiastically gesturing as she spoke to—you.

Eugene sat on one corner of the table, Enid said something particularly exuberant, causing you to stiffen visibly. Eugene, in turn, shot Enid a panicked look that screamed, Please stop talking before you get us all killed.

As Wednesday reached the table and took her seat across from you without a word, her gaze landing on Enid, who greeted her with a wide smile.

“Hey, Wednesday! Guess what?!” Enid began, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

“I would rather not,” Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid turned her attention back to you. “So, like I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and I’ve been thinking—Last year we barely won but it’s time we totally crush Bianca’s team this year. And you, Y/N, would be perfect for—”

You didn’t bother looking up from your plate. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Enid said, huffing dramatically but quickly recovering with a smile. “Okay, but seriously, you’d be perfect. We need someone like you—someone who can strategize and, you know, scare people."

“I don’t care.” Your tone was sharp enough to cut, but Enid either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Come on! You and Wednesday on the same team would be unstoppable! Seriously, we could destroy Bianca. She wouldn’t stand a chance!” Enid leaned closer to you, her smile widening as if sheer enthusiasm could wear down your resistance.

“Let me clarify,” you said, your focus still on your plate. “No. As in, absolutely not. As in, I’d rather eat broken glass than subject myself to whatever nonsense you have planned.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat, darting a glance between you and Enid like he was bracing for an explosion.

“That was a bit harsh, But I promise you’re gonna love it once you try it!” Enid barreled on, her voice impossibly cheerful. “And imagine—Wednesday and Y/N! You’d wipe the floor with everyone.”

You set your utensils down with a quiet clink, turning to Enid with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” you asked coldly, your tone a knife's edge. “Or is it your entire personality to be this relentlessly irritating?”

Enid blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Wow, okay, someone’s cranky. But I get it! You’re under a lot of pressure or whatever.”

“Pressure has nothing to do with it,” you replied, your tone colder still. “You’re insufferable. You don’t listen, you don’t think, and you certainly don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. Take a hint: I’m not interested in whatever childish game you’re dragging me into.”

Enid’s bright demeanor faltered, her smile slowly dying... The table fell silent. Even Wednesday, who often found Enid’s enthusiasm grating, felt an unexpected pang at the harshness of your words.

But Enid didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head as she unleashed her ultimate weapon.

The puppy eyes.

“Well,” Enid said after a beat, her voice quieter and sadder. “That’s a really mean thing to say. But I’m not giving up. Because deep down, I think you’re not as awful as you want people to think.”

You stared at her, unblinking, as though calculating the odds of her ever leaving you alone. Wednesday found herself watching the exchange with acute interest, her gaze flicking between you and Enid.

Wednesday stiffened. Even she wasn’t immune to Enid’s maddeningly effective weapon. She braced herself for your response, curious to see if you’d succumb.

You let out a tired sigh. “Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with exasperation. “I’ll join your team. Just stop talking so I can eat in peace.”

Enid let out an excited squeal and, before you could react, threw her arms around you in a side hug. You froze completely, your body going rigid as though you’d been petrified on the spot.

Wednesday felt something shift in her chest—a faint, unpleasant pang that she quickly dismissed as indigestion. Her fingers tightened around her fork as she watched Enid cling to you, her head resting against your shoulder...

You didn’t push her away, but your voice was low and measured as you began counting down. “Three… two…”

Enid immediately released you, sitting back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry! I just got excited. Thank you so much for agreeing, though! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

"I already do." You muttered, returning your attention to your plate with the same calm indifference you always exuded. But Wednesday caught the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a resignation you couldn’t quite mask.

Enid, oblivious as ever, turned her attention back to Wednesday. “Isn’t this great, Wens? With Y/N on our team, we’re totally going to win this year!”

Wednesday didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied you for a moment longer, her mind churning with thoughts she couldn’t fully articulate. Finally, she turned back to her own meal.

"We will see." She said, still feeling something unrecognizable. Whatever it was, she would not allow it to distract her. Not now, not tonight. Behind the greenhouse. After the sun falls. You had given her a directive, and she intended to follow it, not out of curiosity, of course, but because she refused to let you maintain the upper hand.

After the rest of the classes ended, Wednesday found herself in a disconcerting state of reflection. The day's events gnawed at her, though she maintained her usual stoic demeanor. Your words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting, like the blade you so clearly wielded with mastery.

"You’re not worth wasting my time."

Though she would never admit it aloud, those words struck her. A part of her dismissed them—what could you possibly know of her worth? But another part, the one she rarely let surface, couldn’t help but dwell on the sting.

Wednesday Addams had faced monsters, both literal and metaphorical, yet here she was, feeling... unsettled. Not afraid. No, Wednesday Addams was never afraid. But the thought of meeting you, alone, made her feel something she couldn't entirely recognize.

She briefly considered informing Enid of her impending meeting with you. Not out of fear, of course. Fear was an emotion beneath her. It was a matter of logic, of ensuring someone knew her whereabouts. But as soon as the idea formed, she discarded it. No, involving Enid would complicate matters, and the thought of explaining herself to her overenthusiastic roommate was unbearable.

Instead, she opted for a more discreet confidant.

“You’re to keep an eye on the time,” she instructed Thing, her voice even but firm. “If I’m not back by ten, assume the worst.”

Thing’s fingers scrambled into a questioning gesture.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I am not afraid. Merely cautious.”

Thing’s tapping turned into a sarcastic drumroll, but Wednesday ignored him, brushing past to retrieve her coat.

The path to the greenhouse was empty, obviously no one would be out here at this time.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted you immediately. You were seated on the ground, your back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. A katana rested beside you, the blade gleaming faintly in the dimming light.

Did you summon it? Wednesday wondered.

You looked up as she approached, your gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re on time.”

Wednesday ignored the comment, her eyes flicking to the katana. “Are you finally going to show me?”

"Katana techniques aren’t something you can master by watching. It requires precision and patience, I know you fought some old wizard, but I highly doubt that would be enough."

Wednesday’s expression hardened. "That 'old wizard' was Crackstone."

“And?” Your tone was flat, unimpressed, as if the name meant nothing.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. What do I need to do first?”

You reached down and picked up the katana beside you, holding it out for her. Wednesday accepted the sword with both hands, one curling around the scabber and the other around the handle. It was heavier than she expected—not unmanageable, but noticeable. Still, she adjusted quickly, refusing to let any hesitation show.

She stood, focusing on the sword, attempting to summon a vision. She hoped for even a glimpse of your history, your purpose, your motives. Nothing. The blade remained silent in her hands, its secrets as tightly guarded as yours.

Her reverie was broken by your voice. “Do you know how to unsheathe it without losing your fingers?”

Wednesday met your gaze, her tone sharp. “Of course. Just because I haven’t fought with a katana doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of its basics.” She demonstrated, flawlessly unsheathing the sword with a precise motion.

For a moment, she paused, her gaze lingering on the blade. Its sharp edge felt almost hypnotic.

“Now sheathe it again,” you instructed.

Wednesday hesitated, the command catching her off guard. “I just took it out,” she muttered annoyed.

Still, she attempted to comply, but the process proved unexpectedly awkward. She struggled to align the blade with the scabbard, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. She half-expected you to smirk or make a biting comment, but your expression remained impassive, devoid of mockery.

Instead, you conjured your own katana, the same one she had seen in the Nightshade Library, and unsheathed it with effortless grace. “Watch,” you said simply. With practiced ease, you demonstrated the technique for resheathing the sword, pushing the scabbard forward while maintaining balance.

Wednesday observed intently, her sharp mind immediately grasping the mechanics. “I see,” she murmured, attempting the motion again. This time, her execution was far smoother, and the blade slid into place with satisfying precision.

“Good,” you said, your voice still emotionless.

From there, the lesson progressed. You guided her through a series of foundational techniques, demonstrating precise footwork and the fluidity required to wield the katana effectively. Your movements were deliberate, almost mesmerizing in their precision, and Wednesday found herself silently admiring your mastery. She didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. But she felt something.... something she felt while grave digging... is this what Enid called... "fun"?

Still, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of knowing she was... pleased by this... would you even care if you knew?

By the end, her muscles ached pleasantly, but her mind was sharper than ever. She sheathed the katana with practiced ease, turning to you as you prepared to leave.

“Here,” she said, holding out the weapon.

You took it, and as soon as it was in your hands, both katanas vanished into thin air. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

As you turned to leave without any , she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What is it?”

She struggled for a moment, the words eluding her. Finally, she asked, “Why did you agree to show me these techniques?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at her with that same unreadable expression. “Goodnight, Wednesday,” you said, your voice softer than she expected.

You turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It wasn’t until you had disappeared into the shadows that she realized something—this was the first time you had used her name. And for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it mattered.

As Wednesday pushed open the door to her shared dorm, her eyes went to Enid sprawled across her bed as she animatedly whispered to Thing, who was perched on her pillow like her sidekick.

As she stepped further into the room, she felt Enid’s gaze snap to her. It tracked her every step, as though waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” Wednesday snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Enid sat up, crossing her legs and hugging a pillow to her chest, a smug little smile spreading across her face. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, peeling off her coat and hanging it neatly on its hook. “You’re staring at me."

Enid gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Staring? Me? No! I’m just... thinking."

"Thinking what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Enid drawled, leaning forward with a grin that only grew wider with each passing second. “Maybe observing how you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time with a certain someone lately?”

Wednesday stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she adjusted the lace cuffs of her shirt. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Enid said with a giggle, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Choose your next words carefully, Enid.”

“What were you doing with Y/N?” Enid sat up straighter, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

Wednesday’s brow twitched. “That is none of your concern.”

“See, now you’re making it sound suspicious,” Enid teased, her grin widening. “Were you two, like, out in the woods doing something spooky? Summoning ghosts? Practicing dark magic? Or was it something more... romantic?”

Wednesday’s glare deepened. “Romantic?” she repeated, “Do you genuinely believe I would waste my time on such frivolity?”

“Well, I mean,” Enid said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “you do waste your time digging up graves"

Wednesday ignored her as she walked out to the balcony. She needed air. She needed quiet. She needed to expel whatever it was that Enid’s incessant prattling had stirred within her.

The cello waited in its usual spot.

Without hesitation, Wednesday settled into her chair, the bow fitting naturally into her hand. She began to play.

The bartender wiped down the counter with practiced ease. His face was friendly, his demeanor warm as he smiled at the hooded girl sitting before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, his tone easy and warm. “Sometimes we need some alone time away from family.”

The customer remained silent, her head tilted downward.

As Wednesday’s fingers danced over the cello strings, her mind drifted. She hadn’t meant to think of you, but it was impossible not to. The memory of your eyes, a depth that hid so much.

Why did you haunt her so? There was a quiet pain in your gaze, a barrier that dared anyone to come closer. What had happened to you? What had made you so guarded, so indifferent to the world?

The bartender smiled as he wiped a glass, his voice light. “You know, I love my family too. Even when they drive me insane.” He chuckled, setting the glass down. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Wednesday’s music swelled again, the melody turning wistful. How could she know more about you? Was it even possible?

The bartender glanced around the empty bar, shrugging. “It’s pretty quiet here this time of night. Honestly, I feel more like I’m on guard duty than actually working. Not that I’m complaining—it’s nice to have a slow shift every now and then.”

Wednesday’s bow trembled slightly, though her playing remained flawless. Her thoughts shifted, unwillingly, to you again. She couldn’t shake the questions that gnawed at her. Your precision, your coldness, the way you had spoken to her and yet spared her just enough... that made her understand, there was more to you than you allowed anyone to see.

The bartender leaned closer, his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. We all make mistakes. We’re human at the end of the day.”

The customer let out a low chuckle that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small space. It sent an involuntary shiver down the bartender’s spine.

“Are you?” the customer asked, her voice smooth yet chilling.

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The customer slid a card across the counter. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on it.

“Are you human?” she repeated, her tone dangerously calm.

As the final note hung in the air, fading into the night, she exhaled slowly, setting the bow down with measured care. The music hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. The unease was still there, coiled in her chest, lingering like a shadow that refused to leave.

Still, one thing was clear. Whatever this was, whatever you were, it wasn’t over.

Finally, she set the cello aside, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by an exhaustion she couldn’t name.

When sleep finally claimed her, it brought something.

Fire. It was everywhere.

And Wednesday was standing right where she fought Crackstone last year.

Enid’s scream, filled with desperation. “Y/N, no!”

The flames seemed to dance around you, as if you were their master rather than their victim. For a moment, you turned your gaze toward her, your eyes, darker... souless.. and then you nodded at Wednesday... as if.. thanking her.

"I know what I have to do now." you said.

The scene shattered like glass, and Wednesday jolted awake, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. The room was still dark, the faint light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as she struggled to steady her breathing. Dreams were not foreign to her, but this... this was different. It had felt too vivid, too real.

Was it a vision? No. Her visions came with a sharp, distinct pain, an undeniable clarity that marked them as something more than mere dreams. But this... it was murky, fragmented, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

She exhaled quietly, watching as the darkness outside softened with the rising sun. What were you? That question gnawed at her, more relentless than any puzzle she’d faced before. You didn’t fit neatly into any category of person she’d encountered. Why did her mind seem so determined to orbit around you?

Wednesday despised the thought of being consumed by anyone or anything, yet here she was, watching the sun rise while her thoughts were plagued by you.

She rose from her bed without making a sound and slipped into her black uniform.

Enid stirred in her bed, her sleepy form stretching lazily beneath her colorful blankets.

“Morning, Wends,” she mumbled.

Wednesday grabbed her coat and headed for the door without sparing her roommate a glance. The door clicked shut behind her before Enid could say anything more.

By the time she reached the quad, the space was still empty. Most students were still tucked away in their dorms, waiting for the breakfast bell to draw them out.

But her eyes found you.

You were sitting beneath a large tree at the far end of the quad, your back against the trunk, your eyes were closed, your features relaxed in a way she had never seen before. You seemed... at peace? It was unsettling to see you like this, so different from the guarded, vigilant person she’d encountered before. This version of you felt unfamiliar, almost vulnerable.

For a moment, she hesitated, her boots rooted to the ground as she watched you from afar. Why was she hesitating? Wednesday Addams didn’t hesitate. She was decisive, certain, unflinching. Yet here she was, caught in some inexplicable limbo. It infuriated her.

Finally, she forced herself to step forward. Each step felt heavier than it should, as though an invisible force was pulling her back. By the time she was only a few steps away from you, your eyes opened.

You looked directly at her.

Wednesday froze. The intensity of your gaze was unsettling, not because it was intimidating, but because it was so direct, so unflinching. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice low and even.

Wednesday blinked, her composure snapping back into place like a well-worn mask. “I could ask you the same question.”

You regarded her for a moment, then shifted slightly against the tree. “Resting,” you said simply. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And I suppose you decided that lying on cold earth was preferable to staying in your dorm?”

You shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

Wednesday didn’t have a retort for that. She understood the value of silence more than anyone.

You studied her now, and she hated the way it made her feel. Like you were seeing something she hadn’t meant to show. “You don’t seem like the morning exercise type,” you finally said.

“I woke up early,” was all Wednesday offered.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t push. You didn’t even invite her to sit, which was something she had somehow expected.

She frowned at herself. Why did she expect that? You weren’t the kind of person who invited anyone to sit beside you, and Wednesday certainly wasn’t someone you would extend such an offer to. She wasn’t special in your eyes, nor should she be.

The realization irritated her more than it should have.

The silence between you stretched, not awkward but Wednesday won't call it comfortable either. “Do you want to spar today?” she asked.

You blinked at her, then nodded.

She almost wished you had asked why. Maybe then she could figure out the answer herself.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. You had always been dark, just like her. But in the dream, it was different. You were worse. Your eyes weren’t yours.

She exhaled, not realizing she had until the sound broke the quiet.

You noticed immediately, your brow furrowing as you turned back to her.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, your tone cautious.

Wednesday straightened, her mind scrambling for a response. She couldn’t tell you about the dream, not yet. She needed more time to understand it herself. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Poe Cup.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “What about it?”

“Since you and I are on the same team, I thought you should know more about it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “It’s a simple boat race that lacks bound rules to keep the students from harming each other. That’s all I need to know. Works fine for me.”

Wednesday smirked, a small, fleeting expression that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention. You had no idea about the costumes. The mandatory, humiliating black cat ensemble that had tortured her the first time she’d participated. It was only fair that you endured the same indignity. She decided then and there not to tell you about it. Let it be a surprise.

The quad was beginning to fill now, “You should join me for breakfast.”

You raised a brow at her.

She added, “Enid will drag you there anyway. It will save you the effort.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, following her as the two of you made your way toward the dining hall.

And Wednesday, for reasons she refused to name, felt a little more at ease.

Wednesday had expected you to leave.

As she sat on the bench, you settled across from her, your posture as composed as ever, shoulders relaxed but gaze sharp, always aware. She observed you from the corner of her eye, waiting for that moment where you'd inevitably get up, bored of the company. But you didn’t move.

You stayed.

That was new.

"Oh my god!" Enid's half yell pulled Wednesday from her thoughts.

“You’re sitting here willingly,” Enid launched herself to the seat beside you, grinning wide as she nudged your arm. “By yourself. No threats, no bribery, no blackmail—at least, I don’t think Wednesday blackmailed you. That’s progress, right?”

You merely hummed, not confirming nor denying anything.

Enid let out a dramatic gasp. “That was almost a response. Oh, we are making so much progress.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Must you be so insufferable this early in every morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Enid shot back, flashing her a grin before turning her attention back to you. “You should sit with us more often. Now that we are a team!"

Before you could respond—not that you looked like you were going to—another voice cut in.

Bianca.

“So this is where the brooding duo gathers now?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Enid turned to her, smirking. “Oh, come on, B. You’re just mad because Y/N’s on my team. You’re so screwed.”

Wednesday caught the way Bianca’s eyes narrowed, assessing. You, however, didn’t even acknowledge her. Not a glance. Not a shift in posture. Nothing. Bianca didn’t seem sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“Huh,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Guess it’ll be fun to have a challenge for once.”

Wednesday smirked, her voice dry as she leaned forward just slightly. “And lose badly again?”

Bianca shot her a glare, but before she could retort, another voice joined the conversation.

Xavier.

“Uh… morning,” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to you, but you still didn’t acknowledge him. He swallowed. “Mind if I join?”

“You’re asking that after joining in without permission,” Wednesday said flatly.

Xavier hesitated, then sat beside Bianca, opposite Enid. He looked like he wanted to say something to you but wisely decided against it.

Understandable. He was still shaken after whatever had happened during his last encounter with you.

Then came Eugene, who looked like he regretted his decision the moment he saw how crowded it had become—especially when his eyes landed on you.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether he should turn back. He probably would have, had Enid not noticed him first.

“Eugene!” she called out, “Come sit!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly shuffling over.

And to make matters worse—for him, at least—the only available seat was right beside Wednesday. Which, unfortunately, placed him directly across from you. He slid into the empty spot, making sure to position himself as far from you as possible.

Trying to lighten the mood, Xavier leaned forward, his attention shifting to you.

“So, Y/N,” he started, flashing a small grin. “We barely know anything about you. What’s your deal? Hobbies? Interests? Are you into art? Music?”

You said nothing.

Xavier tried again. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you to loosen up a little.”

Silence.

Wednesday saw it then—the faintest flicker of amusement in your eyes, but it was at Xavier’s expense. You weren’t entertained by his charm. You were entertained by his failure.

Enid snickered. “Damn, Xavier, she hates you.”

Xavier groaned, throwing his hands up. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“More like failing to be friendly.” Bianca corrected, smirking.

Wednesday scowled. She didn’t like this. The way Xavier was blatantly trying to get your attention, the way he was—pathetically—trying to get a reaction out of you. And she especially didn’t like that, for a second, you looked... entertained.

Before she could dwell on it further, Yoko arrived, sliding onto the bench with her usual laid-back energy. “Wow,” she remarked, surveying the table. “This is a weird mix of people.”

Wednesday half expected you to get up and leave, to remove yourself from the growing number of people surrounding you. But you didn’t.

You remained where you were, though your shoulders tensed slightly, and there was a subtle shift in your expression. You weren’t uncomfortable. You weren’t guarded.

But here, among all these people, you seemed slightly irritated, but human.

And for some reason, that made her feel something she couldn’t quite place

Wednesday felt it all, the way she always seemed to end up beside you—walking through the halls, settling into her seat during class.

She told herself it was nothing. A strategic choice, you were an anomaly, and she was merely studying you, trying to make sense of that dream, trying to make sense of you.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t ask why she was beside you between classes, why she sat near you when she had the chance, why she existed in your orbit like it was simply the way things were meant to be.

And Wednesday… Wednesday felt something almost like satisfaction in that. She wasn't sure why she felt… privileged.

It wasn’t as though you had declared her presence welcome, nor did you ever seek it out. You simply tolerated it. And somehow, that felt like enough. She had seen how you interacted—or rather, how you didn’t interact—with others. You kept your distance. You tolerated Enid. But beyond that, you were an island. Unreachable.

So why was she the exception?

The thought was infuriating. She didn’t like questions without answers.

And even in the dull monotony of school, she felt it, you never let your guard down entirely.

Except for one moment.

The fencing class.

She had been looking forward to it. She had been looking forward to you.

And you didn’t disappoint.

Wednesday had challenged you again. And, as expected, she lost. But this time, it was different. This time, she fought harder, adapted quicker. This time, she made you work for your victory.

And this time, she swore she saw something new in your expression—a flicker of exertion, a moment where you had to focus just a little harder.

She was getting better. And that meant something.

For once, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss.

By the time the final bell rang and students were retreating to their dorms, she found herself once again at your side. Neither of you spoke at first.

She felt a strange tightness in her chest, something akin to anticipation. It was an irritating, foreign sensation.

She cleared her throat. “I intend to continue our training this evening.”

You hummed.

That was it. Just a hum.

Wednesday frowned. “Is that a yes?”

You didn’t glance at her. “Maybe.”

She exhaled sharply. “I dislike uncertainty.”

You shrugged. “Then that’s your problem.”

She bristled. You had a talent for being insufferable. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself anticipating the evening regardless.

You reached your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside without another word.

You didn’t invite her in.

She hadn’t expected you to.

But she didn’t leave immediately either.

Her eyes flickered over your room, drinking in the details—or rather, the lack of them.

It was empty.

Not physically, of course. The furniture was there, the walls intact. But there was nothing personal. No photographs, no decorations, no trinkets that suggested someone actually lived here.

It was cold, soulless.

Just like you.

Like you weren’t meant to stay.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to you just in time to see you shrug off your blazer, revealing the toned muscles underneath.

That was—

She swallowed, fingers twitching at her sides.

You were strong. She had already known that, felt it in every spar, every clash of weapons. But seeing it like this, under normal lighting, without the rush of battle—

It was different.

She forced herself to look away, scanning the rest of the room instead. That’s when she noticed the bed. Singular.

“You don’t have a roommate?” she asked.

You barely glanced at her. “Wasn’t safe.”

Before she could question further, you reached for the door.

And then—

Slam.

No goodbye. No parting glance. Just the door shutting in her face.

She should have been angry. She should have been irritated at the sheer audacity of you brushing her off so effortlessly.

Instead, she was intrigued.

Again.

Not safe?

The Poe Cup was fast approaching. Preparation was necessary, and while Enid was all too excited about the event, Wednesday was far more interested in ensuring Bianca suffered another humiliating loss.

Her mind should have been occupied with tactics, strategies—ways to dismantle the Siren’s chances at victory.

Instead, it was occupied with you.

No matter how many times she tried to redirect her thoughts, they circled back to you.

Wednesday’s grip tightened around the paintbrush. This was unacceptable.

She had no reason to be thinking about you right now, yet you had embedded yourself into the crevices of her mind, refusing to be dislodged. Your movements, your words—or lack thereof—haunted her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

It was infuriating.

Why were you always so quiet? Why did you refuse to let anyone in? And why did Wednesday want to be the exception?

The brush in her hand stopped mid-stroke.

A slow, creeping sense of realization settled over her.

She did.

She wanted to be the exception.

The thought was both disturbing and—

“Wow,” Enid said suddenly, snapping Wednesday from her thoughts. “You’ve been at that same spot for like, five minutes.”

Wednesday blinked, turning her head slightly. Enid was watching her, "You're all distracted and moody, well, more moody than usual. And you still haven't come up with a dozen of ways to beat Bianca so that says alot."

Wednesday tightened the rope harder than necessary, the material digging into her palms. "Perhaps you should concern yourself with decorating the boat and leave my thoughts alone."

Enid gasped dramatically. "So you admit you’re thinking about something else?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

There was a beat of silence before Enid's tone shifted, becoming far too smug for Wednesday’s liking. "So, what is it? What did she do? Did she say something? Did she look at you in a way that made your little goth heart go all boom boom—?"

"Enid." Wednesday’s voice was sharp, and for a moment, it seemed like Enid might actually drop it.

She didn’t. "Face it, Wednesday. You’re obsessed."

Wednesday stiffened.

The words hit closer than they should have.

Because the truth was, she was obsessed.

With figuring you out.

With understanding why you were the way you were.

Why you made her feel—

No.

She wouldn’t entertain that thought.

Instead, she inhaled sharply and said, "If I did want to learn more about someone, how would I do it?"

Enid blinked.

"You’re seriously asking me this?"

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

Enid grinned. "Well, you could just stalk them, but let’s be real, we both know that’s not going to work with her. She’s, like, the most un-stalkable person I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you should umm.. how would you say it 'Try courting her.' "

Wednesday blinked.

“What?”

“You know, court her,” Enid said, beaming. “Spend time with her, get to know her more. Talk with her. Maybe even—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—text her at night.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Why at night?”

“Because,” Enid said, “that’s usually when people let their guard down.”

Wednesday stared at her, utterly still. This was absurd. Completely absurd. And yet… A horrifying thought took root in her mind. Would it work?

Wednesday tightened her grip on the rope.

She was going to kill Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday was finally done coloring their boat. Now her mind was finally where it should be—on strategy, on victory, on humiliating Bianca once again.

And then you arrived.

You carried the boat paddles, your expression unreadable as always.

Wednesday set her brush down, folding her arms as she eyed you. You placed the paddles beside her without a word.

“Let me guess. Enid forced you.”

“I don’t get forced to do things.”

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “So you willingly volunteered to help paint these?”

A beat of silence. Then, a flat, “No.”

Wednesday almost smirked. Almost.

You sighed as if resigning yourself to your fate, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Wednesday wordlessly handed you a brush, watching as you dipped it into the paint. You worked with smooth, deliberate strokes, methodical in your approach. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft shh-shh of bristles against wood.

“You handle a brush like you handle a sword,” she said eventually.

You didn’t look at her. “And how is that?”

“Precise. Controlled.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, “So do you.”

Wednesday paused mid-stroke.

It was such a simple remark, devoid of any weight or hidden meaning, but for some reason, it lodged itself into her thoughts like a splinter.

She turned slightly to glance at you, only to find you focused entirely on your task. As if the words had been nothing more than an observation.

Her mind was racing, but she refused to let it show. It was infuriating how easily you unsettled her, how effortlessly you took over her thoughts.

This was not supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

She needed to say something—anything—to break the tension creeping into her chest.

“Why do you never ask questions?”

You paused mid-stroke, finally glancing at her. “What?”

Wednesday met your gaze. “You never ask anything. Never pry. Why?”

You studied her for a moment before looking away. “I don’t see the point.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “Curiosity is a natural human instinct.”

“I’ve never been particularly human.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched again. That statement—it was too familiar. Too close to something she would say.

Before she could think of a response, footsteps approached again, breaking the moment entirely.

Enid and Yoko had arrived.

“So, are we finally making a battle plan, or are we just winging it?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly, “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet. “We’re discussing strategy.”

Enid perked up. “Good, because I just got some inside info—Bianca’s adding shields to her boat this year. That means last year’s spear trick won’t work.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. The race was tomorrow, and she had yet to come up with an alternative strategy.

She had been too—

Distracted.

Enid leaned over the boat, frowning. “We need something else.”

Enid and Yoko began listing potential alternatives, but every suggestion was quickly met with a countermeasure that Bianca had likely already accounted for.

Nothing felt right.

Nothing seemed enough.

And then—

“Your focus is misplaced.” you spoke.

All three of them turned to you.

You remained seated, still painting, still looking entirely uninterested in the conversation.

“You’re too fixated on Bianca,” you continued. “There are other teams in this race. You’re underestimating them.”

Enid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Focus on them,” you said simply.

Enid frowned. “And Bianca?”

“Leave taking Bianca’s boat down to me.” you said as you finished the last stroke of paint on the paddle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “And what guarantee do we have that you can take her down? The water is her field.”

Your gaze met hers.

Emotionless. And Wednesday can see it... the darkness building in your eyes.

“I don’t fail.”

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Wednesday’s lips.

Because suddenly—

Suddenly, she knew exactly how they were going to win.

Wednesday adjusted the black cat ears on her head with all the enthusiasm of someone fastening a noose around their own neck.

This was humiliating. She loathed every aspect of it. But, she supposed, she loathed losing more.

With a sigh, she pulled on the last piece of the outfit and stepped out of the Black Cat’s tent.

And there you were.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, staring at Enid and Yoko like they had personally insulted your ancestors.

Your expression was twisted into something resembling mild horror as you looked them up and down. Almost as if you felt her presence, your eyes flicked over to her.

And then—

Disgust.

Your face didn’t change much, but Wednesday caught the subtle narrowing of your eyes, the barely-there curl of your lip.

She had seen this expression on you before—when you were unimpressed, when you found something utterly beneath your standards.

And now you were looking at her like that.

Wednesday was already plotting different ways to murder Enid for putting her in this position.

“I’m not wearing that.” you said.

“Oh, what?” Enid gasped. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Wednesday, hands on her hips. “Wednesday didn’t tell you? This is compulsory.”

You turned to her, a glare so sharp it could cut steel.

She held your glare, unwavering, refusing to be intimidated by whatever silent death threat you were sending her way.

But—strangely—her pulse quickened.

Not out of fear.

Out of something far worse.

Something she refused to name.

Without another word, you grabbed one of the dreadful uniforms from the pile and disappeared into the changing tent.

The second you were gone, Enid turned to Wednesday, eyes practically gleaming.

“This is kinda romantic,” she mused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What part of this is remotely romantic?”

"The way you two had a telepathic deathmatch to see who comes out on top right now."

Wednesday ignored her and crossed her arms, waiting.

The minutes stretched, and with each passing second, an odd anticipation settled in her chest.

The tent flap opened and you stepped out.

Her mind stuttered.

There you stood, in the same ridiculous, skintight, fur-trimmed uniform as the rest of them.

Except—

Somehow, on you, it wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The tight fabric outlined every curve, every muscle. The high collar made your shoulders seem sharper, your stance more imposing. And somehow, somehow, the absurd cat ears didn’t make you look silly. They made you look…

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

Absolutely not.

She refused to acknowledge whatever this was.

You had the same unimpressed, vaguely murderous expression you always did, but now it was directed at Enid.

“Try to hug me and I’ll gut you.”

Enid, unbothered, clasped her hands together. “Awww, you’re so cute when you threaten me.”

Wednesday barely heard them.

She was too focused on regaining her composure.

Luckily, Enid was already moving on. “So this is it. You ready?" she asked.

You nodded and strode toward the competition’s starting line. Wednesday followed a moment later, trying very hard to bury whatever the hell had just happened to her brain.

Wednesday gripped her oar with steady fingers, her mind already calculating all the different outcomes, all the scenarios.

Enid sat in the front of their sleek black boat, all grins and bubbling excitement, her fingers twitching with the urge to start rowing before Weems even gave the signal. Yoko was just behind her. Then there was herself, positioned in the middle, strategically placed for control, for observation.

And finally—

You.

Right behind her.

The final and most unpredictable element of this entire race.

She had spent so much time observing you, studying you, trying to untangle the mystery of who you were. And now, here you were, closer than ever, a mere breath away from her.

It made something restless twist inside her.

To their right sat the Amontillados, Xavier's team, who was currently staring at the their boat with open amusement. No—

Not at the boat.

At you.

Wednesday stiffened as Xavier leaned forward, his mouth already curving into that insufferable smirk.

“Wow,” he mused, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Never thought I’d see you in something like that. Gotta say, it’s a look.”

Wednesday’s grip on her oar tightened.

She knew Xavier well enough to recognize that tone, that smug attempt at charm. He tried it on herself last year. He was flirting. With you.

Wednesday felt something snap. A cold, sharp irritation slithered through her chest. She resisted the urge to throw him overboard.

Your reaction, as always, was infuriatingly unreadable. You didn’t acknowledge Xavier, didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink and Xavier chuckled, clearly amused.

She would drown him.

She would personally drag him to the bottom of the lake and drown him.

Before she could act on the impulse, the sound of Principal Weems clearing her throat brought her back.

“The annual Poe Cup is a tradition that has stood since the founding of Nevermore Academy,” Weems began, her voice carrying across the water. “It is a test of teamwork, strategy, and endurance.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to scoff.

Weems continued, glancing between the competing boats. “As always, the rules are simple. Each team must paddle across Raven’s Island, retrieve their team flag, and return to the starting line without being sunk. First team across with their flag—wins.”

Weems lifted the revolver high.

“Let the best team win.”

The second the gunshot rang through the air, the boats shot forward, Bianca’s team took the lead almost immediately, her boat gliding through the water with practiced ease, her team moving in perfect sync with her commands.

Wednesday focused. Bianca wasn’t their immediate concern.

Not yet.

Enid paddled furiously at the front, Yoko, right behind her, was more controlled, keeping pace with Wednesday’s calculated movements.

And at the very back, you were eerily calm as you paddled.

Silent.

Watching.

It was infuriating how unfazed you looked while the rest of them exerted themselves, muscles burning as they fought against the current.

But Wednesday had no time to dwell on it.

Not when she caught movement to her left.

Wednesday snapped her head toward them.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat was creeping up at an angle, dangerously close, their team moving with clear intent. And then she saw it—

A glint of metal.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat jerked to the side, revealing the hidden mechanism at their center.

A massive swinging axe, And it was falling. Right toward them.

A normal person might have panicked.

Enid let out a startled noise, already moving instinctively to the side—

But before the axe could make contact—

It should have split their boat in half.

But it didn’t.

Wednesday had barely registered the movement before she saw it.

You.

Your sword was there.

Your conjured katana, held in one hand with a casual ease, intercepting the massive axe mid-swing.

The force alone should have sent you staggering—should have sent you reeling back—but you stood firm. Your grip never wavered, the katana steady as it held the axe at bay.

Wednesday felt something crawl up her spine.

Admiration? Fascination? Something else? There wasn’t time to dissect it.

She had to move. Now.

With the axe momentarily stalled, Wednesday yanked at the mechanism near her foot—a concealed lever.

The Black Cats’ trap sprang into action.

A weighted net shot out from the side of their boat as it latched onto three of the Pit and the Pendulum’s oars, entangling them, causing them to lose their balance. Their boat wobbled dangerously and then, they tipped.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She wasn't the one to revel in the small victory. Neither were you.

Because the race wasn’t over yet.

Ahead, Bianca’s boat surged forward, sleek and unhindered, cutting through the water like a blade. She had taken an early lead, and despite Wednesday’s best efforts to focus, irritation prickled at the back of her mind.

Not because Bianca was winning.

But because her own mind—her own cursed thoughts—kept slipping back to the girl at the rear of their boat who was silent as ever.

Bianca’s team had reached the island first.

Wednesday grit her teeth, adjusting her grip on the oar. Each stroke sent a sharp pull through her muscles, the effort burning in her arms, but she refused to relent.

Enid panted in front of her, “We’re almost there!”

Yoko, ever composed, nodded. “Push harder. We need to close the gap.”

Bianca’s team had already beached their boat, Bianca going for the flag while the rest stayed behind to defend the boat against any sabotage.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate.

The moment their boat scraped against the shore, she jumped out, boots sinking into the wet sand. She knew the way.

She had walked this ground before.

But so had Bianca. She moved quickly, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the quiet thrill of the challenge. When she reached their flags Bianca was already taking her's. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

Bianca said running past her, “Try not to take a cat nap this time, Addams.”

“I could take one and still win," Wednesday said yanking their flag off.

As soon as she returned back to the shoreline, she spotted her team already waiting in the boat. Enid was already waving frantically from the boat.

“Hurry!” she yelled. “They’re getting ready to launch!”

Wednesday barely slowed as she reached the water’s edge. The boat rocked as she jumped in, but her balance remained steady. She shoved the flag into the side compartment before gripping her oar.

They were back on the water.

And Bianca was still ahead.

The race was now in its most critical moment. The return.

Bianca’s boat cut through the waves, her team paddling with brutal efficiency. But then— Bianca’s team made their move.

Wednesday saw it before the Amontillados did.

Dark shapes slithered beneath the water, just barely visible beneath the surface. Sirens.

Wednesday watched as Xavier’s boat lurch violently.

His teammates flailed, oars slipping from their grasp as hands dragged against their boat, pulling them off course.

The Amontillados didn’t stand a chance.

Xavier and his team barely had time to react before the boat tipped, sending them plunging into the lake.

“Bianca with her damn sirens again,” Yoko muttered. “She took out the Amontillados. We’re next, get ready!”

“I will cut their arms off if they touch this boat.” Your voice was even, void of emotion. “They know that,” you continued, “So they won’t. They probably have some other strategy to take us down.”

Wednesday believed you.

She wasn’t sure if the sirens feared you because of what you could do, or because they had seen you do it before.

They rowed and they rowed.

The finish line loomed ahead, the cheers from the shore swallowed by the sound of paddles striking the water and the waves.

Bianca’s boat was ahead, but not by much. The Black Cats were closing in, their speed a perfect, deadly rhythm, Wednesday just needs to slow it down. She got ready, this was her time, her hand tightened around the crossbow, the one you had given her, or more accurately, conjured for her. It was light, too light, yet it fit in her hands as if it had always been meant for her.

She positioned herself, lifting the crossbow, lining up the shot. One bolt. Just one hole in that boat and the black cats are winning this.

She exhaled, steadying her fingers on the trigger—

Then froze.

A sound curled through the air, slipping into her mind like a wisp of fog curling around her thoughts. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

It was beautiful.

Her aim faltered.

Her vision blurred at the edges.

Bianca.

Bianca was singing.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, forcing her grip to stay firm, her finger pressing against the trigger. She blinked, forcing focus, forcing precision—Then fired.

The bolt sliced through the air, cutting towards its target. And then....

Then it missed. No, it didn't miss, it went through Bianca's boat, or more like.. the fake projection of the boat Bianca created in her vision, just behind their actual boat.

Wednesday gritted her teeth. Bianca’s smirk was sharp, knowing.

Then the real attack began.

The siren’s song grew louder, crashing over them like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just in her head anymore—it was in the air, vibrating in her skull, pressing against her ribs.

“Shit—” Yoko’s voice was strangled as she tore her hands from the oar, slamming them over her ears.

Enid whimpered, her claws scraping against the boat’s side as she did the same.

The song grew stronger, insidious. Not just a suggestion, but a command.

Jump.

The word coiled around them like a serpent tightening its grip.

Wednesday felt it seep into her thoughts, her fingers twitching at the oar. Her arms burned as she struggled to paddle alone, the boat swaying against the current.

Bianca’s gaze locked onto hers, triumph in every line of her expression.

She had won. She knew it. And so did Wednesday.

The edges of her vision darkened, the melody still tugging, pulling, commanding, and then—

Bianca’s face twisted. Her smirk faltered.

The song stopped.

A scream.

Multiple screams.

Wednesday knew screams.

She had heard them before—raw, agonized, desperate cries that filled the halls of her mind like a sweet melody.

But this—

This was different.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca’s boat.

Bianca’s team was writhing, clawing at themselves, their mouths open in bloodcurdling shrieks. Their fingers tore at their skin, their bodies convulsing as if set ablaze by something unseen.

One of them lurched forward, eyes wide in horror as he let out a strangled gasp—

Then flung himself into the water.

Then another.

And another.

Bianca was the only one left.

And she was shaking.

Slowly, she turned looking at their boat but her eyes weren’t on Wednesday anymore.

They were looking behind her.

Enid and Yoko turned first.

And then Wednesday followed.

You weren’t there.

The space where you had been sitting was empty. They immediately turned back, looking at Bianca.

Bianca’s expression was frozen in something Wednesday had never seen on her before.

Fear.

Not apprehension.

Not wariness.

True, genuine fear.

Then Wednesday saw why.

You stood on Bianca’s boat.

No sound, no splash, no indication of movement. One moment you had been with them. The next, you were standing before Bianca, staring at her as if.., as if you were the bringer of death itself.

Then, with a flicker of motion so quick it was almost imperceptible—

Your katana materialized in your hand.

A sharp whistle of air as the blade cut through space—

Bianca flinched, her arms flying up in reflex, but the strike never touched her.

Instead—

A sharp crack echoed through the water.

A split second later, Bianca’s boat lurched violently.

A clean, perfect slash—

Straight through the hull.

The boat split in two, water rushing in, swallowing it whole.

Bianca barely had time to react before she was sinking, her body hitting the water with a sharp splash.

Wednesday steadied her breath.

Her fingers curled around the oar, her grip firm.

She turned back.

And there you were. Sitting in your seat.

As if you had never left. As if nothing had happened.

“Start rowing.” Your voice was emotionless, cold. Commanding.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched against the wood. She had never been one to follow orders. But she didn’t hesitate to follow this.

[End note: Yeah, that took me too much time to even copy paste from doc to here lol. Comment how was it]

[Also comment if u wanna be added to the taglist because the updates will take a bit time because of the length.]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk@mally-ka@protozoario@machyishere@freakshow2501@101rizzlrr @casbrawel

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mybelovedsylus · 1 day ago

Text

My hand slipped. Uh 18+ pls. Minors, keep it moving even though I know this doesn't come close to other's spice lol. ANYWAY the boys may have been feral in the promos - but uh anyway this is for my fellow Sylus girlies. (Also my first go at smut so I can’t promise anything great- but gotta get it out before we probably find out the cards are actually angsty as fuck) Potential Caleb one in the works cause the whole shoving his necklace in his mouth moment… aaaaaaaanyways no beta and no proofreading cause that’s who I’ve always been and it’s a pain on the iPad - forgive any mistakes.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sylus I had gotten to know over the last several months was gone. He had disappeared out of the N109 zone in the middle of the day while I had been off on a mission hunting wanderers. Luke and Kieran had blown up my phone, but by the time I got the messages the trail had gone cold. That was until a few months later and that’s how I found myself in a giant cage, Sylus chained up across from me. The usual shine of red glimmer in his eyes was gone, instead it was a preditorial black glaring back at me.

“What have they done to you?”

“You’ve come to help? Why your idea of help is heartwarming,” he stuttered out stumbling towards me, pulling against his chains. His head tilted to the side and his tongue swept across his bottom lip as he looked me up and down. Before I could stop myself I flinched back a step, backing away just an inch but he noted it right away. His lips lifted into a eerie grin and then before I could blink he was on me, twisting my body so my back was perfectly molded to his front. I gasped as he ground his hips into mine and his arm locked around my throat, letting me know exactly what thoughts were filtering through his mind.

“Sylus, focus, we can worry about that later. Now’s the time to get you out of here.”

It was a weak beg honestly. It had been weeks since I had seen him and I wasn’t immune to him even knowing that he wasn’t himself. It’s as if he could sense that, huffing a sardonic chuckle into my neck as his mouth trailed up to my ear.

“Why would we leave?” He whispered and I felt the cool metal of chains sliding around my waist and winding over both hands. That was the shock I needed to start trying to pull out of his grasp, twisting to face him - who knew how long we actually had to get out of here? He gave me a teasing ‘tsk’ and then yanked my hands together and looped the remaining chain through cage, pulling until my arms were secured above my head.

“Now you’ll never fly away little bird.”

That was the last warning you got before Sylus was on you. His hands were roughly pulling on your hair as his mouth slanted over yours. His pace was punishing, like he was trying to make up for lost time and also like he was blaming you for whatever had happened to him in the time it took you to track him down. You whimpered into his mouth and that provided the perfect opening for him to lick inside your mouth, tangling your tongue with his. He pulled back, his hand giving another firm tug to your hair before pulling them free.

“Now where do we start? I mean the outfit is something else, I think we keep that,” he whispers his hands trailing down the front of my chest, stopping to pull at my nipples now straining against the leather before they continue on down to the skirt. I feel the familiar callouses trail down my leg, hooking under my knee to wrap my leg around his waist as he presses closer to me.

“I can feel the heat pulsing off of you here,” he growled out as his hands were suddenly under the skirt, pushing my underwear to the side. He bit down on my neck and I groaned as his fingers ghosted over my slit, gathering some of the wetness that was rapidly pooling, before using them to flick my clit roughly.

“Fuck, what are they giving you?”

“I thought you were trying to get me away from this,” his words ring true, but my thoughts are muddled by the way he’s playing my body.

He shifts his attention from my clit, roughly plunging two fingers inside me. I squirm, desperately wanting to grasp at something and only being able to pull uselessly on my chains. He sets a punishing pace, the sound obscene in the otherwise silent area. After a few thrusts he adds in a third, his eyes fixated on my face and reading all of the responses that I’m sure are flickering across my face. I don’t even realize my mouth is hanging open until I’m being fed said fingers, tasting myself on his skin. He’s pushing them deeper down my throat, testing how much I can take.

“Suck,” he commands. I hear the sound of his chains rattling, his free hand grabbing at my other leg so my body is now supported by his body, and held up by the chains. I moan around his fingers as I feel the head of his cock pushing at my entrance. My hips roll into him, needing him. He lets out a cruel laugh at my desperation before slamming himself home. I scream against his fingers, rolling my body into him and pulling uselessly against the chains. My eyes are watering and his little control left seems to snap. The hand around my thigh moves up to collar my neck and he pulls almost all the way out, dragging against all the sensitive spots, to slam home over and over.

“This is what I’ve needed, why didn’t you get here sooner, so warm, feels like home,” he grunts, pulling his fingers from my mouth, using the soaking digits to flick my clit as he pounds into me. I can feel and hear the slam of his balls as he bottoms out, then the head of his cock hooking on my slit as it fights to stay inside.

“Please, Sylus, please let me have my hands back, I need to feel you just like you need to feel me.”

He falters for a second, and I wonder if the medicine makes it where he can’t trust me like normal. But eventually the chain loosens. My hands aren’t completely free, but they’re loose enough that I can loop them around his neck and pull myself even closer to him. I grab the longer hair at the nape of his neck and pull, which causes him to let out a deep groan and piston even harder. At that point I’m tearing lines into his upper back, wherever my hands can find purchase as I am taken on a ride. His fingers twitch around my neck before closing in and giving the illusion of cutting off my air supply. I can’t help the moan that tears out of me, and then I’m trying to push myself back on him, to get him deeper, to get him to leave a permanent impression inside of me.

“I’m not gonna last much longer Sy,” I warn in a horse tone, struggling the words out. He uses the grip on my throat to pull my head towards him so he can swallow my cries with his mouth. The finger on my clit flicks even faster and I’m screaming as I fall apart around him. He groans as my walls clamp onto him, making it harder for him to keep up his bruising pace. It’s only a few moments later that he’s pulling away from my mouth and biting down hard on my shoulder as he finds his own release, a few small aftershocks wracking his body as he gives me small little thrusts as he pulses inside of me. We spend a second still wrapped around each other, both breathing heavily. He starts to pull away, and I whimper as he slips out, a warm gush going with him.

He looks down and smiles when he sees the mess of my thighs from where our releases are combined. With a snarky smirk, he moves my underwear back in place regardless of the mess. In fact, he seems to like the idea that I’m sitting here with clear evidence of what just happened.

“Hands Sy, play time is over, it’s time to get moving,” I remind him, rattling the chains to draw his attention, “and I need a shower.”

“Mmmm except now you smell like me." He says as his nose follows the sensitive path up my neck, causing my skin to pebble and my shoulder to shake in a shiver. Oversensitive at this point, I put my hands on his chest and shove.

"Ugh. Fine, time to fly little bird,” he whispers as he frees my hands, and as he looks down at me I can see a tiny bit of the usual red returning to his eyes as the drugs lose a little of their control. There’s a glimpse for a second of the Sylus I’ve been missing. I grasp his wrist and pull him towards the exit, time to fly indeed.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deep space smut #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #lads

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lchufflepuffcorn · 1 day ago

Note

Dragon hybrids with their first child/how they feel when they see their mate with children

Ooooooouh! I like that! I spoke a bit about it in one of Rhaenyra's headcanon, but having to explain it more is fun!! You are now dubbed the 🧑‍🍼anon! Spicy-ish in some places. Consider yourselves warned.

With their children and mates: A reaction.

With Mates:

Aegon ii:

Listen, he’s glad that you like his kids, but he’d much rather keep you to himself. Thank you very much. The less people know about you, the better, and honestly, having you take care of his and Helaena’s children always sour’s his mood.

He still leans against the door, watching you interact with both his children as they were practicing music with a nanny. He still yearns for that novelty of a newborn, that warmth he feels when he holds them as itty-bitty things. Yet his duties do not lie with you, and he feels like it would be like dishonoring you to have you compete with Helaena’s children. He doesn’t want his mother to meddle with his feelings like she did with his marriage. He’ll commit to his wife, even if it means having you both hurt from this situation, rather than comfort his mother. Losing you is not a price he’s ready to pay for his own happiness.

He is selfish and a brat, mean and a coward, but he’ll sleaze his way into keeping you without any remorse.

Aemond:

He’d never thought of children before seeing you with his sister’s hatchlings. There was something strange that happened to Aemond when he first saw you hold one of the little twins, a month or two after their birth.

The one-eyed prince was used to Vhagar cooing at smaller things; many things were smaller than her. But that wasn’t it. Vhagar’s history was well known. She’d had many hatchlings of her own before, and the hole that carved itself in his chest when he saw you standing there with your arms full of a baby, smiling down at the little bundle of red cheeks and white hair was nearly enough to make his wings pop out and wrap them around you.

He felt like protecting you from the watchful eyes of Helaena, who was probably just concerned about the well-being of her hatchling. But how could she even think about you doing evil to the little being in your arms?

Warm and safe, a wall of scales and leathery wings. Ours to protect, ours to raise. Little giggles echoing against the walls of the castle, the smell of baby skin. Aemond had never had those memories, but they still felt like his. And he’d never wanted something more in his whole life than to give you hatchling to take care of, to see the smile you arbored looking at Jaehaerys toward children that would have traits like yours, but with the Targaryens hair and eyes.

He stood inert, face blank, all the while you held the child in your arms, never making it seem like his emotions were warring against his own reason. Two steps back, half turned toward the doors, even though guards were posted there already. Aemond would protect his sister’s peace and joy, but also the vulnerability of this moment. Of sharing them with the most precious thing he ever held dear.

Baela:

Watching carefully as you played with Aegon and Viserys from her seat, Baela could only smile. She knew of her duty to continue the lineage of her Targaryen/Velaryon blood, and she knew she could not imagine herself having her hatchling with anyone else than you. Her perfect lover, her mate. She thought herself young still, too young to be married; her father thought so too.

“Baela, look!” Aegon’s cry came to her ears, and she raised her head from the book she was pretending to read. Her little half brother was riding on your shoulder, his little pudgy hands firmly held on some strands of your hair, a bright smile on his face.

“You’ve tamed them?” She asked her brother, eyeing your form playfully, and you sent her a fake glare, mouthing ‘tamed’ with a roll of your eyes. She chuckled and watched as Aegon nodded proudly.

She’ll like having children, hatchlings, with you when you’re older. When your names are synonyms of each other. But right now, she enjoys the sight of her lover with her family.

Helaena:

Much like Aegon, she’d rather not have children with you. She already has three, in all. Her duty is to her kingdom, to Aegon, and to her mother. Much as she regrets not being able to share herself completely with you, she would never put herself and you, much less any children coming out of this union, in danger.

It’s not selfishness if she does it for your own safety. Helaena reason’s with herself again. Dreamfyre purring at the sight of their hatchling cuddled with you in a too-small bed. You’re retelling a story of wolves and roses. One she hasn’t paid much mind to, but she knows her children enjoy it.

It’s peaceful to have someone else take care of the little ones. It is peaceful to share their pleasure. Aegon doesn’t keep them close, Jaehaera, more so than her brother, but Jaehaerys is the crown prince. She smiles, cocking her head to the side as she observes her children cuddle closer to you, their eyes fluttering close at every other word you speak.

Jacaerys:

Having to share you was one of the worst punishments for Jace. But the more he watched you interact with his siblings, especially the younger ones, he couldn’t help the burning passion that flared inside of him. He couldn’t hide how his tail would slither from left to right, up then down, or how his wings would flutter. He could hardly hide the bulge in his pants when he looked at you holding the toddlers for too long.

Leathery wings hiding you from the light of day, Jace had managed to lure you into his chambers (again), holding you against the wall as he quite literally rutted into you, still fully clothed. His warmth was nearly suffocating, and his kisses left behind them a burning hot trail. He puffed his exertion into your neck, talking to the best of his abilities.

“Can’t wait. Mated. Let me give you the best thing in our lives.” He pleaded, eyes glazed over by lust, leaving behind marks upon your skin, busying his hands to undo whatever clothes you were wearing. A prince should never beg, but right now, Jace is fighting for his legacy™.

One of your hands tugs at his hair, and he lets out a wine that wrenches out your heart. You feel him, hard against one of your legs, warm against your chest, his lips bruising at your neck and shoulders. Kiss him back, and he’ll whine for you, pressing harder into you as if he could pass through your clothes. Let your nails, blunt or not, rake against the scales covering his neck, and he’ll shiver, his eyes darkening with desire.

Laenor:

Heart-eyes.

Laenor looks at you, holding little Jace, his firstborn, his wife’s firstborn, with heart-shaped eyes. At first, he thought his marriage would destroy his bond with you, but you kept surprising him every time.

Rhaenyra was in the room, laying back to rest, watchful eyes gazing at the both of you, but Laenor couldn’t care less right now. He huddled closer to you, looking at the brown-haired child in your arms from over your shoulder, then looking up at your face with a marveled look. He looks back at Rhaenyra, unable to find the words, her work more important than what he’d ever imagine it to be, the fruit of her labor making his heart sing for all of you.

She smiles back at him, and he pulls you closer to her bed, letting her see her baby, your baby. He’s lucky, Laenor thinks. Lucky to have such a loving mate and such an understanding wife. Such a wonderful family it is.

Rhaena:

While Rhaena likes children, especially her sibling, I don’t think she’d be that into having some. (As she will be forced to mother her stepbrothers.).

She’s glad that you are good with her family; it is important to her. She would be glad if you stepped up to help her when Rhaenyra asked her to be the mother she couldn’t be to her children. But I think she’d be even more glad that you didn’t force her to have children of her own. She is content with just having you.

With Lovers:

Daemon:

Daemon would try to give you your own. If you like children (especially his) so much, why not have some for yourself?

“Of course Rhaenyra doesn’t mind; should we ask her?” He’d tease into your ears, hips rutting against your own. “Would you like her to join in, too?” His laughter intended to be mean, mocking, but his breath caught, transforming it to a moan, his scaly hands coming to grip at your hips, talons caressing dangerously the fragile skin under them.

“I could father children for the both of you, have twins from different parents.”

He’s lost in his own fantasy, babbling away, words hardly making any sense as he plunges into you with more will than ever before. It’s your fault, really; had you not reached to grab Rhaena, keeping her steady on her feet as she playfully walked on the stone railing of the outside stairs, you would not be in this position. Truly, if you hadn't, Caraxes would not have taken over and kidnapped you for a very passionate, loving time. It had been something about the panic in your eyes, the way you’d reacted—even quicker than him—to his own child’s dangerous exercise.

He hadn’t even locked the door. And thinking about Rhaenyra entering on them both fucking (to put it crudely) clothes barely taken off and positioned like animals made his movement sharper, taking a gasp out of your mouth; his forehead fell to your shoulder.

Rhaenyra:

It’s a given that Rhaenyra would not accept you as a lover if you didn’t love her children. Having you actively in their life is something she takes to heart, and she would not imagine herself with you if you didn’t respect and love her hatchling. (See this headcanon for more reference.)

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

List of anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼

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stitched-mouth · 2 days ago

Text

Meet The Fives

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy.

Pairing: Other Five x Female! Reader x Brisket Five

Format: Long NSFW fic.

Summary: After losing your husband in the time travel subway, you meet several different Fives. Two of them, stand out to you.

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW! Seriously, this is some of the filthiest shit ever written. I finally got to write something with a stuck kink, something I love. It’s very consensual but stuck fantasies always need a CNC warning. Cheating, Angst (?), Cum eating, Spit roasting, Vaginal sex, Oral sex (male receiving), lots of grammar mistakes don’t be mad 🙏

Writing Time: 3 hours.

Word Count: over 3,500

A/N:

PLEASE READ MY NOTES BEFORE READING MY STORY, THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY IMPORTANT

Thank you to everyone that encouraged me to post this; @ifellinto-fantasy @voteforevilthoughts @fartsquelch7 I really hope you guys enjoy and stick around for a possible part two

You can skip straight to the smut, it’s sectioned off and highlighted.

I’ve had an idea to write a stuck smut fic with two Fives for ages now, so happy I finally did so. But this work isn’t perfect, like always I put a lot of into setting up the story and the smut and ending slightly suffered. I forget sometimes that I don’t need to give a backstory to all my stories, I’m sorry.

The backstory also might not make a lot of sense to everyone but I explained as well as could and even if there is a massive plot hole in this fic, please pretend like you don’t see it 🙏

But I’m still happy with the way this came out and I hope you will too.

But also some explanations, there’s a huge inconsistency with how long five worked for the commission, he is 13 years old when he jumped forward to the apocalypse and spends 45 years there and 58 years old when he jumps to 2019. But every source online confirms he worked for the commission for 4-5 years before he jumped to 2019… meaning he actually spent 40 or 41 years in the apocalypse and was 52 when he started working for the Commission. This is why in one line of this I mention that Five was 52 years old while working for the Commission. Feel free to correct me if you know something I don’t.

And the reader loves Bailey’s Hot Chocolate because I do.

Please enjoy!

—

It wasn’t such a great time for you, you had been wondering around the disconcerting train station. Your husband, Five, had brought you and Lila with him by accident due to his familiar but different and uncontrollable power and the bad part is you had been standing on the platform staring at the confusing map too long to notice your husband and your sister-in-law stepping onto a train.

It had left without you. And Five’s attempt to blink off the train when he realised you weren’t going to make it on was futile.

You tried your best not to panic, this wouldn’t be like the last time Five time travelled, right? He’d be back to any minute now, all you had to do was wait, right?

Yeah well you waited hours before deciding to step onto another train, it left from the same platform so it had to take you to him, right? You’re not right very often here.

You stepped onto the train and tried your best to navigate, but honestly, nothing made sense to you here. You had a very strong feeling the train maps were created by another Five in his own made up language, you just had to hope your Five would figure it out and find you.

You had so much time on the platform to remind how you had met Five while you both worked at the Commission as partners. You were only 20 years old but well-known as the Commission’s best assassin, hence why you were partnered up. You had been trained to kill since you were a pre teen and loved it, but you loved Five more than anything else. When you met Five, he was 52 years old, making Five very wary around you and avoiding you and his feelings for you until it was too much. You both finally hooked up after 2 years of working together and clumsily but intensely flirting, you called him your hot stuff and he called you Princess, he was hot and you certainly behaved like a Princess. He brought you back to 2019 with him and you had unofficially married right before the first end of the World. Legally doing so after Allison reset the Universe and living and again working together at the CIA.

You stepped off the train slowly and cautiously, when you deemed it safe you began calling for your husband. No response and nobody was in sight. You were about to step back onto the train when you noticed your husband, well he looked like your husband, walk past the train.

You suddenly felt extreme relief and joy as you ran after him, “Five! Hot Stuff!”

He kept walking so you continued chasing him and grew furious when you realised he could definitely hear you but not stopping, “Old man! Fuckface!”

You suddenly stood in front of ‘Max’s Delicatessen’

You looked around, bewildered and confused. Five quickly made his way inside but turned to look at you first and wink. The wink unsettled you. Something so Five and usually so comforting, now ate your stomach left and it feeling uneasy. That was not your husband.

You didn’t feel completely unsafe, but more intrigued instead. So you slowly entered the Deli and looked around, maybe 50 different Fives all enjoying themselves with coffee and deli meats. A few of them looked back at you in shock and or horror. The Deli became slow and quiet.

“Oi, Hot stuff!”

A Five was gesturing for you to join him, the same one you followed. You slowly moved over to his table.

“She’s mine, boys.”

Nearly all the Fives sighed sadly and continued with themselves. You raised an eyebrow at the Five now in front of you, “I’m definitely not yours.”

“Aw, was hoping I could convince you.” He smirked, “Please sit, Hot Stuff.”

You sat down and decided to mess with him, “I knew you wasn’t him. My Daddy usually calls me Princess.”

This Five choked on his coffee and you grinned, just as another Five dressed as a waiter, delivered you a Bailey’s Hot Chocolate. You were confused how he knew what you wanted before you had even ordered but you were even more confused with how he stared at you nervously. You had only once seen fear in your husband’s eyes and you had both fought the end of the World 3 times and worked as assassins together, it terrified you to see your Five or any Five scared. Especially of you.

They both quickly collected themselves, waiter Five left the table and the Five sitting opposite you dapped his face with his napkin before looking back at you.

“Well, I could call you Princess if you prefer. But only if you call me Daddy.”

“No thanks, I’m looking for my husband.” You sighed.

“Well, if he’s not in here, I haven’t seen him. He’s likely lost… with Lila.”

You raised an eyebrow, “How do you know he’s with Lila?”

“Because he’s not the first Five to get stuck down here with a Lila and cheat on his beautiful wife.”

“Cheat? You must be mistaken, my Five and I—“

“I’m really sorry Princess, but I am definitely not mistaken. If your Five isn’t here it’s because he’s not welcome, there’s a strict no cheating on your perfect wife ever but especially not with your brother’s wife policy here. Unless the World is actively ending, then we make an exception. Any of us, would reach out to help another one of us if lost, unless we spot them with a Lila.”

You glared at him, very offended. But the longer you stared into his eyes, you could see his sadness and pain. Your gaze soften but you still didn’t believe him.

“Maybe… maybe one or two Five would do that but mine wouldn’t.”

“Look, I would never do that and I’m disgusted some versions of me would. But as soon as one of us comes here with a Lila, it happens, it’s pre determined. And getting stuck down here, it’s our punishment… at least we leave them alone as punishment.”

“I still don’t believe you.”

“I don’t expect you too. I don’t doubt you love him and that he loves you too, but… I don’t know, I don’t know why any Five would betray their wives. But none of us are perfect and some are just totally undeserving of you.”

“Where’s your me?”

“Dead. Like most of you, sadly. You don’t tend you survive on your own down here… I didn’t come with a Lila, I came here with only my wife and… after years trapped here, she didn’t see a way out so… yeah.”

He trailed off and looked down, nearly in tears. His wife killed herself. You carefully took his hand, this may not be your Five but this sure was one of him. And you were haven’t trouble disconnecting him from the feelings you still had for your husband.

He sniffed his brewing tears away and looked back at you.

“But anyways, I found this Deli afterwards. A lot of us here, wondered in one day or was found by another one of us and was brought here. One of us could get you home if you wanted but we wouldn’t want to let you go especially if your timeline is ending, which it likely is.”

You sighed and gently rubbed his hand.

“Five… if my husband doesn’t want me anymore, I’d rather… find another Five who wouldn’t betray me.”

He gave you a small smile, “Look around and take your pick, Princess.”

You looked around at all the Fives in the room, all of them just as handsome as your husband but no familiar feeling. Expect the Five currently in front of you.

“Maybe I’ll pick after finishing this.”

You picked up your now lukewarm Baileys Hot Chocolate and began gulping it down. After the day you’ve had, you needed to get drunk, hopefully it would be easy since you hadn’t eaten yet and if these amazing Bailey Hot Chocolate kept coming and you kept chugging them. Five chuckled a bit before sipping on his own coffee. You quickly waved the same waiter Five for another, he promptly brought you another as well as some of your favourite snacks.

“So is the lovely young lady staying?”

You could still hear the nervous tone in his voice but it was more friendly now. You smiled at him and nodded.

“Wonderful, let me know if you need anything else.”

“Oh I will. Get me another one of these but hold the hot chocolate this time.”

You gave him a naughty grin as you looked at him up and down and quickly smacked his ass, he blushed and hurried off to help another Five. The Five in front of you chuckled again.

“What? I can pick anyone of you, right? That makes sexual harassing Five service works ok, right?”

“You are right. That’s Brisket Five, he wrecks shit.”

“Yeah hopefully he’ll be wrecking my pussy soon.”

Five choked on his coffee again but then laughed hard.

“Are you drunk already, darling?”

“Trying to be.”

He nodded understanding why.

“Hey! Brisket Five, scotch!”

A few hours later you and your new Five were drunk as skunks. The pain of losing your husband had been forgotten, you had a new Five that already loved you and wouldn’t betray you. And if that didn’t work, you still had many choices to repair your broken heart. You didn’t know if you were going to go back to you and Five’s family but you had all the time you wanted to decide, considering time was technically stopped in train stations and Deli.

It was closing time and Brisket Five was shooing all the drunk Fives out, including you. He still blushed and stuttered around you, telling you that this Five must be a lot younger than the other. You asked and found that mentally he was only 35, he was one of the few Five’s that didn’t get stuck in an apocalypse and instead grew up with his siblings. But he wasn’t as lucky as he seemed, growing up with his siblings and never working for the Commission meant he never met his you.

You and your new Five giggled and stumbled as you stepped out of the Deli, you drunkenly shhhed Five and he shhhed you back making you both laugh loudly. The moment suddenly became serious as you gazed into each other’s eyes and eventually began kissing.

His tongue was ferocious, you could feel had touch starved he was, much like your original Five. Your tongues danced sloppy but it was so intense and intoxicating you could feel your vagina open and burn with need. You strongly considered turning around and bending over for him right where you was but he suddenly broke away.

“Shit, I forgot my jacket.”

You rolled your eyes and began peeking in through the windows for Brisket Five, nobody was in sight and the lights had been turned off, except for one around the corner of the Deli, it looked like the kitchen.

“Can you blink inside?”

Five shook his head, no.

“Well didn’t you say it would only be closed for 2 hours? Because they are trying to be 24/7?”

“My map is in it.”

You sighed and made your way to the kitchen window and knocked gently, the window was unlocked and slowly creeped open the more you pushed on it. You poked your head inside and saw no one, you sighed again about to look back at Five but you felt touch your back gently.

“Please, let me help you inside and you can get it for me?”

“Ok.”

—-/// SMUT ///—-

You agreed seeing the task as easy, you maybe drunk but you’re still a cold blooded killer, you can break into a Deli easily and grab a coat. And even if you got caught, you’re you, any Five would let you off freely.

You crawled inside and pressed both your hands on the low kitchen counter in front of you, accidentally knocking over a pan you didn’t notice. You gritted your teeth as the pan hit the floor and made a loud bang noise.

“Pull me back! Pull me back!”

Five heard your whisper yelling and began trying pull you backwards by your hips, but you was stuck and all he did was pull your jeans halfway down.

‘Fuck’, you thought. You were definitely way too drunk for this.

You heard some shuffling in another room and in stepped Brisket Five.

“Hi…”

“I already told you, we’re closed Darling.”

“I know, I’m sorry but—“

“No no no babygirl, you can’t just break in and enter. Especially not so poorly.”

He walked over to you and was now face to face with his crotch. It gets better, you could hear the Five behind you groan with need and begin pulling off your jeans and panties all the way down. Your eyes widen with shock and lust as you heard him spit into his hand and then feel him slowly enter you.

Your burning cunt accepting him easily and you gasped with excitement.

“Um, I.. I’m sorry… let me make it up.. to you..”

Brisket Five was beyond shocked with your suddenly breathy horny voice and even more shocked when you began pulling his belt, pants and boxers off. You stared into his eyes as you licked up and down his dick before taking it fully into your mouth.

He groaned as you began moving your head back and forth, just as the other Five fucked you slowly but so deeply. Your cunt tighten as you took Brisket Five down your throat and Five moaned loudly, he grabbed your hips and increased his pace.

So you increased your pace, moving your mouth up and down faster on the younger Five’s cock. He sighed in pleasure and gently put his hand into your hair and moved your head back and forth. You was Heaven, being spit roasted by two Fives’ was your ultimate wet dream. And both of being so touch starved and whipped for you meant they were more than happy to take anything you gave them.

As you slurped down one Five’s dick and got pounded by another, you decided to never fucking leave.

You felt yourself nearing your release, so you threw your hips back, forcing Five to go deeper and pound your walls harder. Brisket Five’s large cock was nearly suffocating you, just how you liked it. You sucked like your life depended on it, only feeling desperation to have all of them both. You came and whined around Brisket Five as you did so.

Seeing you orgasm and stare so intently at him as you did so made him lose it.

“Fuck!”

Brisket Five suddenly ripped his soaking dick from your throat and with all his might began pulling you through the window, Five though, held onto you as tightly as he could. You let the two Fives fight over you, too drunk and pussy whipped to do anything. Brisket Five won and he pulled into him then stood up carefully and looked out the window at Five.

“You coming in?”

Five suddenly blinked inside.

“You, you asshole…”

“Sorry Princess, I knew you’d bend over me but Brisket Five needed some action too.”

He grabbed the back of your head and pushed you onto your knees and forced his dick down your throat. You choked slightly at first but Five throat fucked you through it, ignoring the tears running down your red puffed out cheeks and burning throat.

Brisket Five stood and watched for a second while jerking himself off before deciding to get on his knees behind you and enter your pussy. He moaned loudly and eagerly began fucking you.

The two seemed desperate and hellbent on using your holes as much as they could, sexual frustration had taken them over completely and they were blood thirsty, well in this case pussy thirsty.

After what felt like an eternity of being on your knees begging for more, Brisket Five cried as he came inside you. You came again at the same time. Five took slightly longer to enjoy your mouth but eventually pulled out and came onto your face. You moaned as he did so, relieved from your second orgasm and the ability to breathe again. His hot wet semen spoiled your face and you smiled up at him.

The Fives looked down at their work proudly. Brisket Five helped you slowly to your feet and you moaned again quickly as you felt his cum drip out of you, you began shamelessly scooping it up in your hands and licking it off your fingers and licking at the corners of your mouth for Five’s cum.

Brisket Five’s face flushed and he stuttered out, “I’ll get you a towel.”

He scurried off, almost tripping as he tried to fix his trousers as he walked.

You smiled and looked at Five, who was also fixing his trousers, he noticed you looking at him and he suddenly kissed you deeply. Your holes felt so used and your heart felt so loved and in love.

Yeah, you was never leaving.

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vodika-vibes · 3 days ago

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Stolen Hearts

Summary: Hardcase has a problem. And the problem is that the new Medical Officer on the Resolute is a thief. What has she stolen? His entire heart.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Hardcase x F!Reader (pre-relationship)

Word Count: 963

Warnings: None

A/N: I was in a Hardcase mood, so this was born. I hope you like it~

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“Honestly, Hardcase,” He opens his eyes to squint at the white-clad woman standing over him, “What were you thinking?”

Hardcase blinks at her, twice, and then a sheepish grin crosses his face, “Will you be mad if I say I wasn’t?”

She sighs and presses a hand to her head; she’s recently painted her nails a pretty shade of blue that matches his armor. Fuck, he wants to kiss her.

Wait…that might be the concussion talking.

“I wouldn’t be mad, Hardcase. I’ve come to expect this kind of nonsense from you and your brothers.” She drops her hand back to her side, and favors him with the tiniest of smiles, “I think Kix got all of the common sense on this ship.”

“Not all of it,” Hardcase counters immediately, “Rex has some too.”

“The fact that the good Captain is also nursing a concussion suggests differently to me.” She counters dryly.

“Oh, for real?” He tries to sit up to look at the other beds, only for her to push him back down, “How’d you get to be so strong?”

“I’m not strong, Hardcase. You’re just very concussed right now.” Her hand, so warm and soft, presses against the side of his head, “How’s your head feeling?”

“...fuzzy.” He replies honestly, “And a little achey.”

“Well, the pain will fade when the medicine kicks in.” She murmurs, “I’m not sure what’s causing the fuzziness, though.” She leans back, her hand moving from his cheek to settle on his chest.

Logically, Hardcase knows, she’s doing it to keep him from trying to move and hurting himself more. But right now, he’s stuck on the fact that her warm hand is pressed against his chest.

“Wow, your heart is racing,” She murmurs, “You feeling alright Hardcase?”

“Yup! Perfectly perfect!”

Her eyes move from the monitor to scan his face, a doubtful expression on her pretty face, “I think I’m going to take an EKG…just in case. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” Okay, he didn’t mean for his voice to come out that strangled, but he doesn’t think she noticed. At least, she doesn’t look any more concerned.

But, when she favors him with a bright smile, Hardcase swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “Great! Better safe than sorry, no?”

“Yeah. Totally.”

She lightly pats his chest, “I’ll be right back. Try not to move.”

And then her hand, and her warmth, is gone.

Hardcase lifts his head to watch her vanish into a storage room on the other side of the MedBay, and then he turns a glare to Kix, who is shaking from repressed laughter.

“You’ve got it bad, vod.”

He groans and falls back on his pillow so he’s able to drape his arm over his eyes, “Shut up.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to an unnecessary medical test,” Kix continues, a grin in his voice.

“Shut up, you’re annoying Kix.”

“That’s my right as big brother.” He doesn’t have to sound so smug about it, though.

“You didn’t tell me you hired a heart thief,” Hardcase grumbles.

“Yeah, you’re unique in that, vod.”

“Shut up, she’s perfect.” He drops his arm and glares at his brother, “I’ll fight you for her.”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“Cause you’ll lose.”

“No, because you have a concussion, and it wouldn’t be fair dipshit.” Kix lightly flicks Hardcase’s nose, pulling a disgruntled noise from him.

“Hey! Stop abusing my patients!” His heart skips another beat when she returns, a droid trailing behind her.

“Ah, but you see. He’s an idiot, and he needs to know.” Kix replies cheerfully.

“Abuse your brothers outside of the medical bay, Kix.”

“Ah, so I have your permission.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know that they give as good as they get, so I’m not worried. Shoo.”

Hardcase stares at her, his jaw slightly slack, “Did you just shoo Kix?”

“Yeah. He’s used to it.” She replies distractedly as she turns to the droid. “Anyway, the EKG shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes, and then I’ll let you rest—”

“I love you,” Hardcase interrupts.

Across the room, Kix bursts into laughter.

To give her credit, she looks momentarily thrown before a tiny smile lifts her lips, “That’s the concussion talking, Hardcase.” Her voice is very gentle and kind, and Hardcase falls in love with her even more.

“I’ll still love you when I don’t have a concussion.” He counters, “I loved you before the concussion, and I’ll love you after it.”

She looks amused for a moment, and then she sits on the stool next to the bed and rests her arms next to him, “Tell you what. If, when the concussion clears,” here she pauses and holds up a finger, “Fully clears, per myself or Kix, and you still feel the same way, I will go on a date with you when we return to Coruscant.”

Hardcase stares at her, “Clarity,” He finally says, “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better? You mean it?”

“Every word. We’ll go to the Aquarium, it’ll be fun. But only if you still feel the same way.” Her smile widens, “If, when the concussion clears, you don’t love me, then we’ll cancel. With no hard feelings.”

“Deal!”

“Good. Now, I need to attach these electrodes to your chest, may I?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“So agreeable,” She sounds pleased about that fact, which is all Hardcase wants, really.

And then her small hand slips under the collar of the hospital shirt he’s wearing, and Hardcase can feel his face start to burn with flustered embarrassment.

“Ah, you’re cute, Hardcase.” Her voice is soft, but there’s a tiny smile on her lips, and he thinks that, just maybe, he has more of a chance than he feared.

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#star wars #tcw #clone trooper hardcase x reader #hardcase x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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everyandanything · 2 days ago

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ao3 is down today so please enjoy a deleted scene from my last fic ✨

“Your dad? I mean, the two of you were pretty close, right? He ever tell you when things were bugging him?”

Darry’s knee jerk response was to say no, his dad wasn’t like that, nothing ever brought him down. Darrel Curtis Senior was nothing short of perfect. But then a memory flashed in Darry’s mind. Of waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of muffled sobs. Of shaking limbs and frozen toes as Darry padded down the hall and towards the living room to find the source of the sound. Of the glimpse of the kitchen light searing his tired eyes, a light that was on far too late at night.

Darry still remembered the feeling in his chest when he turned the corner to find his dad hunched over the kitchen table, his eyes red rimmed when he looked up and saw Darry standing there. The embarrassment that wrapped around Darry’s heart and made his limbs shake even harder as he watched his father wipe at his eyes, because Darry had just seen something he wasn’t supposed to see. The illusion of his perfect father shattered into a thousand pieces between them. A perfect mosaic of the man Darry thought his father was.

“Darry, what on earth are you doing up?”

Darry pulled his gaze away from his father’s eyes and down at the kitchen table. That’s when he saw them. Bills. So many they spilled onto the floor beneath their feet. He realized whatever was wrong was tied to money. Of course it was about money. It was always about money. Money painted every one of Darry’s fears. Why would his dad be any different?

He didn’t answer his father. Just turned around and went straight to his room. Doing his best not to wake Soda, he lay on the floor and reached to the furthest corner beneath his bed, fingers grasping the old wooden box he kept there. He opened it up to find all the money he’d been saving up. Years of birthday gifts and mowing lawns. Years of recycling bottles and paper routes during the summer. Years of searching parking lots for a dropped dime, years of selling pressed pennies to the Socs at school too scared to go down to the railroad tracks.

Years worth of money. A whole lifetime for Darry. Money he’d scraped together in the hopes it’d be enough to get him to college one day. Out of this town and somewhere better. But that dream crumbled like ash every time he got close to it, so he didn’t know why he kept hoping.

He snapped the box shut and brought it to the kitchen. His dad’s worried expression morphed to one of confusion when Darry put the box in front of him, only to shatter when he opened it and saw what lay inside. Silence stretched between them. Because what was there to say? They both knew the truth: That his father wanted to tell him no, he didn’t want to take a hand out from his own kid. That Darry wanted to keep the money for his own dreams. Or hell, he wanted to spend it on something stupid like those Socs at school got to do.

But what was the point? The words wouldn’t change anything. There was nothing left but the sharp truth to cut through the night. And the truth was this: Darry had the money. And his father desperately needed it.

His dad took the money with shaking hands and a quiet thanks and told Darry he was going to bed. Darry stood alone in the quiet silence of the kitchen, and wondered if that empty wooden box would ever fill back up again.

#the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders musical #darry curtis #darrel curtis

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aeralux · 7 hours ago

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"Love Game" - Aegon Targaryen

Modern!Aegon x Reader (pt2 to Wicked Game, but could be read on its own)

Summary: After Aemond discards you like you're nothing more than a "convenient hole to fuck" (according to his words). Who better to make him jealous than his own older brother?

Warnings: SMUT 18+; rough sex; name calling (slut etc...); jealous Aemond; choking; LOUD af sex; alcohol consumption; angst (like a lil); slight Aemond x reaader (?); mentions of infidelity (Aemond)

Words: 8k

Notes: I'm not responsible for the media YOU consume.

Aemond Targaryen deserved to suffer. That was the only thought running through your head as you lived your day-to-day life. Even as weeks passed, the anger and bitterness inside you only grew stronger and stronger.

You wanted to pay him back, not just out of a sense of vengeance but because you felt it was necessary. He was older than you, and to be honest, he seemed to not even have any feelings that could be hurt.

But that didn’t matter; it wasn’t just about him. Hurting him would mean hurting your sister, the one person you cared about more than anyone else. You couldn’t let her find out what you had done—how you had betrayed her trust and broken the bond that held you together. The weight of your secret pressed heavily on your chest, filling you with a mix of guilt and fear.

He seemed to be doing well enough though, pretending that everything was fine. Looking at your sister with love in his eye, telling her sweet nothings. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, that pretentious jerk. With that same mouth, he had kissed you like he never even loved your sister.

Maybe you just needed another body to warm your bed to get over him, to forget all about that one-eyed freak and move on with your life. You had better things to do, truthfully.

Aemond catches your eye and flashes you a smirk, a knowing glint in his depths. He knows exactly what you're thinking, and can see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He thinks he's won, that he has you right where he wants you - desperate, bitter, and powerless.

Your sister, bless her naive heart, is completely oblivious to the tension between you. She chatters on about her day, laughing at Aemond's witty remarks, oblivious to the fact that the man she loves has been balls deep in her sister mere days ago.

Aemond reaches over, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Darling, you look radiant tonight. The most beautiful woman in the room, as always," he purrs, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

Your sister blushes, preening under his praise. If only she knew the real reason behind his smooth words and charming demeanour. The way he used to call you his 'dirty little secret', his 'convenient hole' to fuck when he needed release.

You feel the bile rise in your throat at the memory, your anger boiling over. You need to get away from him, from the sickening sight of him pretending to be the perfect boyfriend.

Suddenly, you stand up abruptly, the chair screeching loudly against the floor. Your sister looks at you in surprise, concern etched on her face.

"Sweetie? Are you alright?" she asks, noticing your pale complexion and the way your hands shake slightly.

"Yeah, listen I gotta go. Baela just texted she's having some people over at her place tonight. We're gonna pregame there and then hit up this new club downtown. Don't wait up, alright?" You say distractedly, already rising from your seat and grabbing your phone.

You shoot a quick smirk in Aemond's direction, just to let him know this is your way of getting back at him. Two can play his games.

"I'll be Quiet...I hope," you add with a wry smile, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you saunter off towards your bedroom. You make sure to put an extra sway in your hips as you walk away, just so he can get a good long look at your best asset in this tight skirt.

You slip into your room and begin to get ready quickly, shimmying into the slinky black dress you bought on sale last week. You admire yourself in the mirror, confident and sexy, ready to take on the night and forget all about your sister'slying, cheating, manipulating bastard of a boyfriend.

Let Aemond jerk off to thoughts of you tonight, the dirty bastard. Probably will anyway, even if you're not there, you muse with a smirk, slipping on your silver kitten heels and grabbing your purse.

Aemond watches, his gaze lingering on the sway of your hips as you strut out of the room. He feels a flicker of annoyance at your snide remark, the obvious attempt at getting under his skin. Two can indeed play this game.

He turns to your sister, flashing her a disarming smile. "Ignore her," he says dismissively, waving a hand in the direction you disappeared. "You know how unpredictable your sister can be sometimes."

Your sister frowns slightly, a hint of worry in her eyes. "I just hope she's not getting mixed up with the wrong crowd again," she muses, biting her lower lip in concern.

Aemond laughs, a rich, deep sound that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry about it, my love. I'm sure she knows what she's doing." At least, he hopes she doesn't know what she's in for tonight. The thought of you stumbling home drunk and throwing yourself at some random guy causes an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He quickly pushes the thought away, focusing instead on your sister's lovely face.

The events of the night are hazy, interspersed with flashes of strobing lights, pounding music and the warmth of too many bodies pressed together on the dance floor. You recall Jace shouting something about an Uber, but the details are lost in a haze of alcohol and adrenaline.

Somewhere between the club entrance and the bar, you found yourself getting dragged to the floor by a drunk and overeager Rhaena. Before you could protest, her hands were already gripping your hips as she pulled you back against her. You began to shamelessly dance with her, practically grinding against her on the dancefloor.

Aemond slipped further from your thoughts with each pulsing heartbeat radiating from the speakers. For a blissful, drifting moment, everything else faded away - the betrayal, the anger, the heartache. It was just Rhaena, the thumping music, and the heady, almost electric atmosphere.

You could feel the eyes of strangers on you, but in the darkness and the buzz of the crowd, you didn't care. You let the music take over, let it consume you and make you feel alive.

Rhaena grins drunkenly at you as she grinds against you on the crowded dance floor, her hands gripping your hips tightly. "Woo! You're so hot!" Rhaena shouts over the pounding music, her words slightly slurred. She's a few drinks in, her inhibitions lowered.

Baela bounces up to you both, her silver hair swishing wildly as she moves to the music. She's wearing a tight, shimmering mini dress that shows off her toned dancer's body. "Girl, we need shots!" Baela yells over the pounding beat, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a bit of intoxication.

Jace, never one to miss out on a drinking opportunity, nods eagerly. He's been eyeing the bar, ready for the next round. Cregan just smirks, his gaze flickering between you, Baela and Rhaena. The strobing lights of the club illuminate his chiselled features and the mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches the two beautiful women grind together.

You flash Cregan a coquettish smile, playfully biting your finger as you catch his heated gaze. Wiggling your eyebrows teasingly, you let out a tinkling giggle, enjoying the blatant admiration in his eyes. The strobing lights of the club dance across your beautiful features.

Cregan watches, transfixed by your playful antics with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes rove appreciatively over your curves, lingering on the way your dress rides up your thighs as you dance. He takes a swig of his beer, never taking his heated gaze off you.

You lean in close to Baela, shouting over the deafening music and the chatter of the crowd. "Ooh, let's do tequila shots!" you suggest, your voice lilting and eager. "No, wait, vodka! Neat, no lime or salt!" Jace argues, his own words slightly slurred.

Rhaena giggles drunkenly at your shot suggestion, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Tequila it is!" she agrees enthusiastically, already pulling you off the dance floor towards the bar. Baela and Jace follow close behind, with Jace hollering out to the bartender.

As you reach the bar, Rhaena leans in close, her alcohol-laced breath hot against your ear. "You're such a tease," she accuses playfully, jerking her chin towards where Cregan is watching you with blatant appreciation. "The poor guy looks like he wants to devour you whole."

Baela chimes in, grinning widely as the bartender lines up the shots. "I don't blame him. Look at you, working that dress like it's your job." She winks at you, her own dress riding dangerously high on her thighs as she leans against the bar.

Jace slides the shots towards you both, his own eyes a bit glazed over from drinking. "Alright ladies, bottoms up!" he cheers, already tossing his shot back.

You toss back the tequila shot, feeling the burn of the alcohol slide down your throat and warm your belly. As you set the glass down, you catch a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. Your heart seizes in panic for a moment, fearing it might be him. But as you turn to look, you realize it's not Aemond, but his older brother, Aegon.

Relief floods through you as you meet Aegon's gaze, his smile widening in recognition. You can't help but smile back, giving him a little wave. Aegon is handsome, like all the Targaryen men, but he doesn't have the same intense, almost frightening charisma as his younger brother.

Aegon returns your smile, his grin widening as he notices your relieved expression. He's always found you charming. Not to mention the way that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. He saunters over, the crowd parting easily for the handsome man.

"Aemond's girlfriend's little sister," Aegon greets, his voice a low rumble over the pounding music. "Looking as lovely as ever. What brings a pretty thing like you out tonight?" He leans against the bar beside you, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your form.

Aegon is no stranger to the effect he has on women. With his golden hair, piercing eyes, and the strong, muscular build that comes with being a Targaryen, he's used to turning heads. But there's a warmth to his demeanour that Aemond lacks, a kindness in his eyes that makes people feel at ease in his presence.

He watches as Rhaena, Baela and Jace chat and laugh, already a bit tipsy. His gaze flickers back to you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

You lean back against the bar, casually crossing your legs as you eye up Aegon with a smirk. "Aegon, these are my friends - Baela, Rhaena, Jace and Cregan," you say loudly enough to be heard over the blaring music. You gesture to each of them in turn, noting how Baela openly checks out Aegon's handsome features while Rhaena leans in to whisper something giggling to Jace, no doubt an impressed comment about your sister's 'brother-in-law's' looks.

Turning back to Aegon, you let your gaze shamelessly wander over his muscular frame, taking in the way his tailored shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and the way his dress pants hug his lean waist. "This is Aegon, my sister's boyfriend's older brother," you introduce him with a naughty lilt to your voice.

Aegon knows he's being checked out, and he takes your brazen appraisal as an invitation to do the same. His eyes slowly travel the length of your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and the way the skirt of your dress rides up your thigh.

"A pleasure to meet you all," he says smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement. He turns back to you, his gaze intense and appraising. "And an even greater pleasure to see you again. You look absolutely stunning," he adds, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone.

Aegon flags down the bartender, ordering another round of tequila shots for everyone. "Drinks are on me tonight," he declares, sliding the shots towards you and your friends with a wink.

As the night goes on, Aegon stays close by your side, his hand either resting on the small of your back or holding yours possessively as you dance. He makes it clear he finds you captivating, desirable even. His flirtations grow bolder with each drink, his body pressing closer to yours as the crowd jostles around you both on the dance floor.

You grin as Aegon's hands boldly explore your curves while you move to the beat, a shiver running down your spine as you feel his arousal pressing insistently against your backside. You spin around to face him with a coy smile.

His eyes darken with lust as they meet yours, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks. You lean in close, your voice breathy as you tease, "Careful Aegon, don't get too excited now."

You punctuate your words with a playful swat to his muscular chest, feeling his firm muscle beneath your palm. Glancing over at Baela and Rhaena, you see them watching your exchange with curious eyes and understanding grins.

You roll your eyes at them playfully before turning your attention back to the Blue-Eyed Adonis before you.

Aegon chuckles lowly at your flirtatious teasing, not put off in the least. If anything, your coy smile and the way your hand lingers on his chest only ignite the desire smouldering in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm already far too excited," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand slides lower, coming to rest on the curve of your ass. He squeezes the supple flesh, pulling you more firmly against him so you can feel the hard press of his arousal.

"I could take you right here if I wanted to. Bend you over the bar and fuck you until you scream my name."

His lips brush against your ear, sending tingles down your spine. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the sheer masculine power of him. Part of you wants to give in, to let him have his way with you right here in the middle of the crowded club. But a bigger part of you wants to make him work for it, to tease and torture him.

Your eyes glint with mischief as you meet his heated gaze. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you ask, a kittenish smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

Aegon leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "Perhaps we should get out of here and find somewhere... more private," he suggests, his tone leaving no doubt about his intentions.

He glances over at Baela and Rhaena, who are not-so-subtly looking and mouthing 'holy shit' at you. Aegon smirks, clearly amused by their reaction.

Turning his attention back to you, Aegon reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to caress your cheek. "What do you say, little one? Ready to get out of here and have some real fun?" he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your lower lip teasingly.

You lean in close, your lips brushing against Aegon's ear as you whisper sultrily, "I've been hoping you'd say something like that all night."

Your fingertips dance along his chiselled jawline before giving his earlobe a playful nip, tugging lightly. "My bed sound good enough for you?"

You press your body flush against his, letting him feel every curve and contour. "Tonight, you can do whatever you want with me~" you breathe. Your hand boldly cups the prominent bulge in his tailored trousers, giving it a teasing squeeze.

"Unless you'd rather stay and give my friends here a real show," you add with a coquettish wink at Baela and Jace, who watch your heated exchange with avid fascination.

His eyes darken with lust and he inhales sharply, the prominent bulge in his trousers twitching under your bold touch. He’s already imagining all the things he wants to do to your lush body, the ways he wants to make you scream and beg for more.

Aegon's lips curve into a wicked grin at your teasing offer to give your friends a show. "Tempting," he murmurs, one hand sliding down to grope your ass roughly. "I'd love to fuck you in front of an audience." His other hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. "But I want you all to myself tonight," he growls. "I'm going to take you home and use this sexy little body of yours in ways you've never been used before."

"Enough to drink? I'm ready to go whenever you are," he says, getting restless by now.

"Come on then," you purr, smirking up at Aegon with a wink. "Call the cab, I'm ready to go."

You blow kisses goodbye to Baela and Rhaena, giggling mischievously as you start leading Aegon out of the crowded club, your hips swaying with each step. The anticipation of the night ahead makes your heart flutter with excitement.

Aegon smirks as you lead the way out of the club, his eyes glued to your backside. He keeps a possessive hand on your lower back as he guides you out into the cool night air. The cab arrives quickly, and Aegon opens the door for you, allowing you to slip inside before sliding in beside you.

As the cab pulls away from the curb, Aegon's hand finds your thigh, his fingers. He starts to slowly slide his hand up your thigh, inching closer and closer to your centre. "Can't keep my hands off you," he murmurs, leaning in close. "You have no idea how much I want you."

Aegon's lips find your neck, placing hot kisses along the sensitive skin. His hand creeps higher, pushing the hem of your dress up as his fingers brush against your lace panties. He can feel the damp heat emanating from your core, making him let out a whine against your neck.

His eyes flash with lust as they meet yours in the darkness of the cab. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. "I can't wait to get my hands on you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, promise-filled kiss.

You can't help but shiver with anticipation, your body already aching for his touch. You know this is going to be a chance to get revenge on your sister's lying boyfriend in the most delicious way possible.

The cab rolls to a smooth halt outside the familiar apartment building, the sudden stillness a stark contrast to the pulsing energy of the club. You gather your clutch and step out onto the pavement, one shapely leg at a time.

Aegon emerges a moment later from the cab with an air of casual confidence. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk towards the entrance, his touch igniting sparks beneath the thin fabric of your dress.

As you approach the door, you pull ahead slightly, fishing your keys from your purse. With a coy smile, you glance back over your shoulder at Aegon. "You don't have to wait a moment longer," you whisper, the night air cool against your flushed cheeks.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you slip the key into the lock, a thrill of excitement and nerves coursing through you. Over your shoulder, you see the hunger in Aegon's eyes, the way they drink in every inch of your form in the dim light of the entryway. You know he wants you, and the knowledge sends heat coursing through your body.

Biting your lip softly, you step inside, holding the door open and letting Aegon follow you in.

Aegon follows you inside, his eyes never leaving your swaying hips and the tantalizing view of your ass. As soon as he’s through the door, he kicks it shut behind him and immediately pulls you flush against his hard chest. "I don't want to wait another moment," he murmurs hotly, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he walks you backwards towards your bedroom.

His lips find yours in a searing, passionate kiss. It's a kiss full of pent-up desire and hunger, a kiss that speaks to just how much he wants you. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours and exploring every inch of you. He tastes like tequila and sin, and you can't get enough.

Aegon's hands roam your curves greedily as he walks you to your room. He squeezes the globes of your ass, pulling you harder against the prominent bulge in his trousers. His fingers dipped under the hem of your dress, teasing the soft skin of your thighs. He wants to touch and feel every inch of you.

Breaking the kiss, Aegon tugs you into your bedroom, his eyes burning into yours. He looks around your room, taking in the feminine space before his gaze lands back on you. A wicked grin spreads across his face as his eyes rake over your body, drinking in the sight of you.

Without warning, Aegon reaches out and grabs you, pulling you back against his hard chest. He kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands grip your hips. He wants to mark you, to claim you, to make you his. He wants to fuck you until you forget your name and only remember his.

Aemond tosses and turns in bed, his mind a whirlwind of twisted thoughts and dark imaginings of you. He can't get the image of your scantily clad body grinding against another out of his head, no matter how hard he tries.

His hand moves faster over his aching cock, stroking himself with hard, punishing grips. He pictures you pinned against the wall of the club's bathroom, your dress hiked up around your waist as some nameless man pounds into you from behind. The thought makes him groan, his hips bucking up into his fist.

Just as Aemond nears the edge, he hears the front door slam open downstairs. He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he wonders if it's you stumbling home, drunk and reeking of sex and another man's cologne.

Your sister bursts into the bedroom, fresh out of the shower. "Did you hear the door? Looks like she's finally home...." she starts to say, before noticing Aemond's state of undress and the obvious bulge in the sheets. He exhales heavily, his cock softening slightly at the interruption.

"Oh!" she gasps, a pretty blush spreading across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just thought..." She trails off, biting her lip as she takes in the sight of her boyfriend stroking his impressive erection.

Aemond forces a smile, trying to hide his lingering distraction and frustration. "It's alright, love," he says smoothly. "I think your sister just got back from her little night out. Probably passed out somewhere."

He hopes you're okay because right now, he's in no state to go check on you. Not with his cock still throbbing and his mind full of depraved thoughts.

Aegon's eyes darken with lust as you slip out of your tight dress, the fabric pooling around your feet and leaving you in nothing but a lacy black lingerie set. Your hardened nipples peeking through the delicate material. A thin strip of lace runs between your legs, barely covering your most intimate area.

You step forward as your fingers start to slowly unbutton his shirt. You lean in close, your soft lips brushing against his neck as you whisper sultrily, "You like what you see?"

Your voice is a breathy purr, dripping with seductive promise. You place teasing little kisses along his neck and jaw, feeling his pulse jump beneath your lips. Making Aegon's head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

Aegon's breathing grows heavier as his eyes rake over your nearly nude form, taking in every inch of exposed skin and curves. The black lace of your lingerie leaves little to the imagination, and he can see the way your nipples strain against the delicate material. His cock throbs almost painfully in his trousers, aching to be buried inside your tight heat.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Aegon growls, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. He can feel every inch of your body pressed against his, and it ignites a hunger in him that he can barely control.

As you slip the shirt off completely, your hands roam over his muscular torso, exploring the hard planes and ridges. You walk your fingers up his chest, feeling his abs flex beneath your touch. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, sensual kiss, your tongue teasing the seam of his mouth.

"I want you so badly Aegon," you murmur against his lips, your voice ragged with desire. Your hands slide down to his belt, starting to undo it with nimble fingers. "I need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I want you to claim me, make me yours."

In one swift movement, Aegon sweeps you up into his strong arms, carrying you over to the bed. He tosses you down onto the mattress, crawling over you with a wicked grin. "Keep begging for my cock like the needy little slut you are," he commands, his fingers hooking into the delicate lace of your panties. With a sharp tug, he tears your panties off with a rough tug, the flimsy lace giving way easily to his strength.

He tosses the ruined garment aside, leaving you bare and exposed before him. His eyes drink in the sight of your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal.

"Look at this pretty cunt, so wet and ready for my cock," Aegon growls, his fingers brushing teasingly along your slick folds. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it throb under his touch. "You're fucking drenched, you filthy girl. Are you really this fucking needy?"

Aegon makes quick work of his belt and trousers, shoving them down his thighs along with his boxers. His thick, hard cock springs free, the swollen head already leaking with desire. He strokes himself a few times, smearing the bead of pre-cum down his impressive length.

Crawling back over you, Aegon settles between your spread thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He teases you with shallow thrusts, letting you feel how big and hard he is, how much he wants to split you open.

"Beg for it," Aegon demands, his voice a low, dominant rumble.

"Oh god, Aegon..." you moan, your head lolling back against the pillow as you feel his thick cockhead teasing your aching, soaked folds. "Please, I can't take it anymore! I've been dripping for you all night, from the moment we started dancing together at the club."

You lock your eyes with his, desperation and lust swirling in their depths. "I already wanted you to bend me over the bathroom counter and fuck me hard like a nasty slut," you confess shamelessly, your cheeks flushed with arousal and a hint of embarrassment at your brazen words. "I've been imagining how amazing your huge cock would feel splitting me open, filling and stretching me."

You spread your thighs even wider, putting yourself on a lewd display. "Please Aegon, I'm begging you," you whimper, your voice dripping with need. "Use me like the desperate, cock-hungry slut I am." Your voice grew louder and louder, already forgetting that just in the other room your sister and Aemond were probably sleeping.

Aemond's eye snaps open as your desperate pleas ring out, your voice echoing through the apartment. He can hear every word, from the lustful moans to the shameless begging for his cock. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to you reduced to a wanton mess, so consumed by desire that you've forgotten all sense of volume control.

Beside him, your sister jolts up, blinking in confusion. She looks towards the door, her brows furrowing as she hears the obscene noises spilling from your room. "What the fuck?" she mutters.

Aemond grabs her wrist, stopping her. "Don't," he says shortly, his voice strained. He shakes his head when she opens her mouth to protest, silencing her with a sharp jerk of his chin towards the door. "Listen," he says quietly.

Together, they sit in tense silence, your sister's eyes widening as she realizes what she's hearing. Aegon is pounding into you hard enough to rock the bed against the wall, the headboard slamming rhythmically. His hips are smacking loudly against your ass, punctuating every powerful thrust. The room is filled with the vulgar sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your cries of ecstasy.

Aegon is wrecking your pussy, claiming it with ruthless strokes of his thick cock. He's thrusting into you so hard that the bed creaks and groans in protest. The sounds of your pleasure fill the apartment, leaving no question as to what'shappening in your bedroom. Aegon is so deep inside you, stretching you wide around his girth, just as you begged him to do.

Aemond sits rigidly on the bed, jaw clenched and hands fisted in the sheets as your shameless moans and the sounds of carnality fill the air. His heart pounds violently against his ribs, a wild mix of anger, disgust, and a sickening twist of arousal coursing through him. The lecherous symphony of your coupling assaults his ears, each lewd noise a dagger twisting in his gut.

Aegon's hips piston relentlessly against yours, the force of his thrusts rocking the bed frame against the wall with a rhythmic thud. Slick, obscene squelches and the vulgar slap of flesh against flesh echo through the apartment, punctuated by your whorish cries for more, for harder, begging to be used like the desperate cock-hungry slut you apparently are.

Your sister's face pales as the reality of the situation sinks in, her eyes wide with shock. She stares at Aemond as if waiting for an explanation. But Aemond remains still, his expression grim, unable to meet her horrified gaze.

He's never felt such an overwhelming surge of rage, revulsion, and perverse, twisted jealousy. Hearing you degrade yourself for another man, screaming in ecstasy, begging to be used...it's unforgivable. It makes his blood boil and his cock throb in a way it shouldn't, given the circumstances.

Aegon is ruining you, claiming you, fucking you with a ruthless, punishing intensity. And from the sounds of it, you'reloving every second of it.

Your sister finally finds her voice. "Oh wow... I didn't think my sister liked it this rough..."

Aegon snarls, his hips pounding into yours with brutal force as your begging drives him wild with lust. He hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he looms over you, his muscular frame caging you in. The new angle lets him plunge even deeper, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with every savage thrust.

Your slick walls clench and flutter around his pistoning cock, gripping him like a vice. The obscene squelch of your juices fills the room, mixing with the erotic slap of skin against skin and your wanton cries. Aegon's eyes are wild, blazing with possessive hunger as he ruthlessly claims your body, using you like the cock-starved slut you are.

"That's it, take my fucking cock," Aegon growls, one hand fisting in your hair as he pounds into you. "This is what you wanted. To be split open on another man's dick, used like a filthy little fuck toy?"

He leans down and crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your screams of ecstasy. His tongue plunders your mouth, dominating you completely. All the while, he never slows the brutal pace of his thrusts, each one striking that perfect spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

"Ohhhh f-fuuuuck, yesss!" You wailed, your voice cracking with raw pleasure as Aegon's massive cock pummeled your cervix with ruthless precision. Tears of pure ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, your hair splayed wildly across the pillow. "Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyou!" You chanted deliriously, too lost in sensation to form coherent words.

Your back arched sharply, pressing your tits against Aegon's chiselled chest as you clenched around him. "H-harder," you whimpered desperately, your eyes rolling back in your head as you surrendered completely to the brutal pleasure radiating from your core. "Please, I n-need...I need..." you trailed off, unable to even articulate what you craved, your mind shattered by the relentless, mind-numbing bliss of Aegon's animalistic rutting.

The obscene squelch of your dripping cunt taking his merciless pounding filled your ears, punctuated by the slam of flesh against flesh and your escalating wails of ecstasy.

"You want it harder?" Aegon taunts, his voice a low, dark rumble. "You want me to destroy this greedy cunt?" Without waiting for a response, he leans down as he looms over you with your legs still on his shoulders. The new angle lets him plunge even deeper, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with every savage thrust.

Your pussy is drenched, soaking his cock and dripping down onto the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tightly," Aegon growls, his eyes wild with primal hunger as he stares down at your pleasure-drunk face. "Such a good little cock sleeve, taking me so well." He captures your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as he continues to pound into you with ruthless intensity.

His hand moves from your hair to your throat, wrapping around it possessively as he squeezes slightly. He can feel your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his fingers, matching the erratic beat of his own heart. Aegon knows he's taking you to the brink of what you can handle, pushing you to the very edge of your limits.

Aegon snarls like a wild beast as he feels your pussy spasm and clench around him, gripping his cock. Your desperate, incoherent cries and the way you arch your back, presenting your perfect tits to him, only fuel his lust. He wants to ruin you, to fuck you so hard that you'll be ruined for any other man.

Aemond sits frozen as your screams of bliss and the lewd sounds of your coupling flood the apartment. It's like a punch to the gut, hearing the woman he actually wants debasing herself on another man's cock, begging to be used harder. The obscene noises fill him with sickening jealousy and a twisted, shameful arousal he can't deny.

Your sister stares at Aemond in shock, her mouth agape. "Is she...is she okay? That sounds rough..." She looks towards the door.

Aemond jolts as if electrified when he finally registers the name falling from your lips in ecstasy over and over again. His heart stops, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin as the horrible realization crashes over him like a bucket of icy water.

White-hot rage explodes through Aemond's veins, his vision flaring red at the edges. Aegon, his own brother, is violating his girlfriend's little sister in the most degrading way possible. Using her like a cheap fucktoy, pounding into her so hard that the whole apartment knows what a filthy slut she is for him.

Aegon.

Aegon is the one fucking you. Aegon is the one ruining you. Aegon is the one claiming your body in the most primal way imaginable.

Aegon's name falls from your lips like a prayer, a mantra repeated with every devastating thrust. "Aegon, Aegon, Aegon!" You scream, your back bowing off the bed as he fucks you into the mattress with ruthless intensity. The bed creaks and groans under the force of his lovemaking, the headboard slamming against the wall with every snap of his hips.

Your sister looks at Aemond with wide, horrified eyes. "That's...that's your brother, isn't it?" she asks breathlessly. "Your brother is - is he really fucking my sister like that?"

Aemond's jaw clenches, his hands fisting in the sheets as he nods numbly. His mind is reeling, a vicious storm of jealous rage and unwanted, twisted arousal swirling inside him. He can't believe it. He can't believe out of all the guys in the club you could've brought home, you're letting his older brother fuck you stupid.

Your fingers fly to your clit as Aegon squeezes your throat, making your world explode into a million pieces.

"Fuck! I fucking love your huge cock so much," you wail shamelessly, too lost in ecstasy to care how utterly slutty you sound. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you feel Aegon throbbing deep inside, splitting you open so perfectly. His smirk above you only pushes you closer to the edge.

"I-I can feel you, Aegon..." you sob, your pussy clenching and spasming uncontrollably around his pistoning length. "I can feel you in my fucking guts, holy shit!" Your eyes, hazy with lust, can barely focus on Aegon's handsome face as you cry from pleasure.

Aemond feels like he's been punched in the stomach, the air leaving his lungs in a brutal whoosh. Rage, jealousy, and a sick sense of lust churn violently inside him as he listens to you screaming his brother's name, begging for more as Aegon abuses your pussy.

His brother. His fucking brother Aegon is the one splitting you open, claiming your body with ruthless, animalistic fucking. The bed creaks and groans, the headboard slamming against the wall with every devastating thrust. Aegon must be pounding into you with enough force to leave bruises, fucking you like the desperate, cock-starved slut you've become.

The whole fucking apartment knows now what a whore you are for his brother. The way you're screaming, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh...you're not even trying to be quiet.

Not to mention the fucking tears. You're crying from pleasure, sobbing his brother's name like your life depends on it.

"You fucking love it, don't you?" Aegon snarls above you, his hand tightening around your throat. "Love the way my cock is splitting you open, reshaping this hungry cunt to fit me like a glove?" He leans down and captures your mouth in a brutal kiss

Aegon grins wickedly as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock like a silken vice, gripping him rhythmically as you cum hard. "That's it, cum on this fucking cock," he snarls, his hips never slowing their brutal pace. "I want to feel this slutty little cunt milking me dry."

His intense gaze locks with yours, his eyes burning into your soul as your world shatters around you. You shake and convulse beneath him, a silent scream ripping from your raw throat as your climax crashes through you like a tidal wave of ecstasy. Tears stream freely down your cheeks.

Your wide, glazed eyes stare up at Aegon in helpless, mindless rapture, seeing nothing but him. You're utterly lost, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure that's consuming your every sense and thought. You can't speak, can't form a single coherent word or syllable as your trembling body surrenders completely to the exquisite agony of your release.

You can only feel - the scorching heat of Aegon's skin, the slick, obscene slide of his thick cock pounding into your fluttering, grasping pussy, the way your ass jiggles and bounces with every relentless thrust. Your breasts heave and strain beneath him, your nipples grazing his chest with each devastating surge of his hips.

Aegon doesn't let up, fucking you straight through your climax with ruthless intensity. He's merciless, pounding into your spasming cunt like a man possessed, forcing you to take every thick, throbbing inch of him. The sensation of his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass with each thrust only prolongs the mind-melting ecstasy.

You're just a vessel for his pleasure now, a set of holes for him to use and ruin as he sees fit. Your body is no longer your own as you writhe and thrash beneath him.

Aegon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls filthy words. "Fuck, look at you. Coming apart so beautifully on my cock. You were made for this, made to be fucked stupid and used for my pleasure."

He pistons his hips at a brutal pace, the obscene slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. Aegon is fucking you right through your climax, not letting you come down from your high at all. Each thrust rocks the bed frame, the headboard slamming against the wall with enough force to leave a dent.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," Aegon snarls against your throat, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled. "I'm going to fucking fill this hungry little hole. You want that, don't you? Want me to pump you full?"

With a roar, Aegon buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock jerking and pulsing as he finds his release. He grinds his pelvis hard against yours, making sure you can feel every hot, thick spurt of his cum painting your insides.

Aemond lunges to his feet, a snarl ripping from his throat as he starts to storm towards the door. His girlfriend jumps up and grabs his arm, stopping him cold. She stares at him with wide, shocked eyes, her face pale and stricken.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demands, her voice shaking. "They're literally having sex in there! Does it really bother you that much, hearing them..." She trails off, biting her lip as another lewd shriek echoes from your room, followed by the crude slap of flesh against flesh and the rhythmic creaking of the bed.

Aemond's jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with a chaotic mix of rage and jealous lust. "Yeah, it does," he grits out, his voice low and dark. "You're my girlfriend, not her. I should be able to fuck you harder and make you scream louder, not listen to my brother ruin the little slut."

He shakes his head, his expression grim and unforgiving. "I can't stand the thought of Aegon touching her, tasting her..." He squeezes his eyes shut, the obscene sounds still filling his ears.

Aemond's hands clench into fists at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely restrained fury and a sick, twisted arousal he can't comprehend. He's never felt so violently possessive before, so consumed by jealous rage.

His girlfriend looks at him with a mix of anger and betrayal in her eyes. "Well get over it, 'cause it's happening. Your brother is the one fucking her stupid, not you," she points out coldly. "Maybe if you treated me half as good as he's treating her..." she trails off bitterly.

"A-Aegon... I can feel you, oh god, I can feel you pumping me so full..." Your voice is breathy and weak, your body trembling as you feel Aegon's hot, thick seed flooding your insides. "Mmmnh... it's so much, I can feel it leaking out..." You bite your lower lip, a shaky moan escaping you as the rivulets of his cum start to seep out from where you're still intimately connected.

"Thank you... for ruining me..." You gaze up at him with hazy, adoring eyes, your hair splayed messily across the pillow, your cheeks flushed and dewy. "Mmm... I feel like I'm your personal cum dump now." You clench your walls around him and giggle, trying to milk out every last drop of his release.

"I love feeling your cum leaking out of my fucked hole... I'm so happy I let you use me like this." A soft, dazed smile plays on your lips as you savour the intimate feeling of your bodies remaining joined. "I've never felt so full."

Aegon's expression softens as he looks down at your dazed, blissed-out face. He brushes a few strands of hair from your forehead, tucking them gently behind your ear. "You did so well, taking my cock like that," he murmurs, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I've never felt anyone as tight as you before."

He leans down and presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your lips, his other hand sliding down to squeeze your ass possessively. "Look at you, covered in sweat and my cum," Aegon says with a smirk, trailing his fingers through the mess leaking from between your legs. "I've marked you as mine now."

Aegon carefully scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his bare chest as he maneuvers you both to lay on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your naked, trembling body, tucking you in like a precious treasure. "Get some rest," he orders softly, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "You earned it after that performance."

Aegon holds you close, letting you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. His heartbeat is slow and steady beneath your ear, a soothing rhythm that lulls you into a state of tranquillity.

Outside the bedroom, Aemond is still arguing with his girlfriend, his expression dark and stormy. He's pacing back and forth, his fists clenched at his sides as the sounds of you and Aegon's coupling still fill the air.

"Why can't you just let it go?!" his girlfriend argues, her voice rising. "Your brother is in there fucking my sister into a coma! Who cares?! She's an adult!"

Aemond whirls on her, his eyes flashing. "Of course I fucking care!" he snarls. "I'm just - I can't believe she'd let him do that to her. In your shared fucking apartment." He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, his jaw clenching.

Aemond's girlfriend glares at him, her eyes flashing with anger and betrayal. "Oh, you mean like how you haven't fucked me into a coma in months?!" she snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've seen the way you look at her, Aemond. Like she's some prized piece of ass you wish was yours."

Aemond recoils as if slapped, his face paling. "That's not - I would never…" he starts to protest, but she cuts him off with a bitter laugh.

"Save it," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You think I haven't noticed? The way your eyes follow her every move, the little glances you sneak when you think I'm not looking." She steps closer to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Face it, Aemond. You want to fuck your own girlfriend's little sister. You're just pissed it's Aegon doing it instead of you."

Aemond's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he glares down at her. "Watch your fucking mouth," he grits out, his voice low and dangerous. "That's not - I'm not - " He breaks off, gripping the back of his neck as he turns away from her.

His girlfriend laughs again, a harsh, grating sound. "You can't even deny it," she points out coldly. "You're jealous that Aegon is the one fucking her, not you. Well, get over it. She's not your property, Aemond. She can fuck whoever she wants."

With that, she turns on her heel and storms off towards the kitchen, leaving Aemond alone in the bedroom. He stands there for a long moment, his chest heaving with angry breaths as he tries to collect himself.

You peek up at Aegon through your lashes, a playful smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips as you hear the muffled shouts and a female voice rising in anger in the other room. You nestle closer to Aegon's warm, muscular body, relishing in the intimate feeling of your sweat-slicked skin still pressed together.

"Mmm, by the way, I think your brother's out there losing his mind," you murmur, tracing idle patterns on Aegon's chest with your fingertip. You giggle softly. "Poor thing seems pretty worked up about you defiling the 'precious little princess', hmm?" You tease, your voice breathy and low.

Aegon chuckles, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face as he hears the muffled shouts and angry voices coming from the other room. "Sounds like he's in quite a state," he remarks casually, seemingly unfazed by the drama unfolding outside the bedroom door.

He rolls onto his side, facing you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Poor, dear Aemond," Aegon mocks, his voice dripping with disdain. "Probably wishing it was his cock splitting you open instead of mine."

Aegon reaches out, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes burn into yours, intense and possessive. "Let him be jealous," he growls. "You're mine now, not his. I'll make sure of that."

With that declaration, Aegon crushes his lips against yours in a searing, dominating kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a fierce hunger. It's clear he has no intention of letting his brother have you, no matter how much Aemond might want it.

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shizuturnspages · 2 days ago

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somewhat of a self-indulgent request but i've gotta ask... i've always seen characters like thoma and kaveh as 'softer' yanderes (still yandere, but it'd be somewhat doable actually being with them imo), and i was wondering how they'd react in a relationship with a more assertive reader that tends to take the initiative ie. being the one to ask them out and stuff like that. i just think it'd be cute in a way and i wanted to ask for yandere thoma and kaveh with an assertive s/o??? separate ofc.

Flustered Devotion

Synopsis: Soft, but still possessive. They’re not as overbearing as some, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less obsessed with you. Pairings: Yan! Thoma x Reader, Yan! Kaveh x Reader

Yandere Thoma– The Devoted Protector

Reaction to an Assertive Darling:

❥ Thoma isn’t used to someone else taking the lead. He’s naturally accommodating, always considering others’ needs before his own. So when you confidently ask him out, he’s stunned.

❥ “Oh! I—uh—wow, I was actually planning to ask you myself, but… you beat me to it.” His usual charm falters for a second before he recovers, his warm smile returning.

❥ He’s so touched that you chose him, that you want him. It fuels his already deep devotion—now that he knows you’re willing to chase after him, he has to make sure he never loses you.

How It Affects His Yandere Tendencies:

❥ Thoma is protective to the point of paranoia. He’s the type to cook for you, clean up after you, make sure your home is safe—except now, it’s a little too much.

❥ If you go somewhere dangerous, he insists on accompanying you. “Just to be safe, okay? It would kill me if something happened to you.” His smile never fades, but his grip on your wrist tightens slightly.

❥ Your assertiveness makes him so happy, but it also makes him nervous—because what if one day, you take the initiative to leave him? He has to make sure that never happens.

Flustered Moments:

❥ The first time you initiate a kiss? Thoma malfunctions. His face is completely red, ears burning, hands frozen in midair. “You— you— just kissed me?”

❥ He melts when you grab his chin and make him look at you. He’s so used to handling others with care, but you’re handling him, and he’s weak for it.

❥ If you call him yours? Forget it. He’s gone. His whole soul belongs to you now.

Yandere Kaveh– The Overbearing Romantic

Reaction to an Assertive Darling:

❥ Kaveh lives for romance, but he always imagined himself as the one making grand declarations of love. When you ask him out? He’s speechless.

❥ “You—wait—me? You’re serious? You actually want to date me?” He’s so flustered that he has to sit down. It’s not that he thinks he’s unworthy—he just wasn’t expecting it!

❥ The idea that you’re confident enough to pursue him drives him absolutely wild. He loves that you know what you want. It makes him even more obsessed, because it means he has to be good enough for you.

How It Affects His Yandere Tendencies:

❥ Kaveh is already overbearing as a yandere, and this just makes him worse. Since you’re the assertive type, he assumes that means you’ll leave if he doesn’t give you every reason to stay.

❥ He’s constantly trying to prove himself. He dotes on you so much—building things for you, making sure your home is perfect, always fussing over your comfort.

❥ If you so much as mention another person too fondly, he gets dramatic. “Oh, I see! You’re already growing tired of me, aren’t you? You deserve someone better, don’t you?” (He’s baiting you to reassure him.)

Flustered Moments:

❥ The first time you grab his face and say, "You're mine, Kaveh," he actually chokes on air. His entire brain short-circuits.

❥ He thrives when you assert dominance. If you tug him into a kiss? If you push him against a wall? If you tell him exactly what you want? Yeah, his knees buckle.

❥ The moment you take his chin in your hand and whisper something sweet, he’s clutching onto you for dear life. “Oh, you’re dangerous,” he murmurs, a shiver running through him. “Please—keep ruining me like this.”

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strryhaze · 7 days ago

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an essay titled “justice” written by jack kennedy (at age 16) speaks of the importance of family and upbringing which dictates a person’s success and triumph in life. his eloquent understanding and compassion for those less fortunate is evident:

“We read in the newspaper, periodicals and in most of the other products of the printing press, we hear from the pulpits, soap-boxes, and the other numerous locations that orators choose; about the word justice. Justice is pictured as a lady holding scales in her hand on which is weighed right and wrong. Always is the word linked with God until it has come to have an almost synonymous meaning. But should this be so? To quote Webster, Justice means ‘The rendering to everyone his just due.’ But does God render to everyone his just due?

A boy is born in a rich family, brought up in a clean environment with an excellent education and good companions, inherits a fool-proof business from his father, is married and then eventually dies a just and honest man. Take the other extreme. A boy is born in the slums, of a poor family, has evil companions, no education; becomes a loafer, as that is all there is to do, turns into a drunken bum, and dies, worthless. Was it because of the rich boys ability that he landed in the lap of luxury, or was it that poor boys fault that he was born in squalor? The answer will often come back ‘the poor boy will get his reward in the life hereafter if he is good.’ While that is a dubious prospect to many of us, yet there’s something in it. But how much better chance has [the] boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth of being good than the boy who from birth is surrounded by rottenness and filth. This even to the most religious of us can hardly seem a ‘square deal.’ Thus we see that justice is not always received from ‘The Most Just’ so how can we poor mortals ever hope to attain it.”

#jfk was like. a blip. in white privileged men.#he wasn’t perfect by any means i know but.#he was a blip.#at sixteen years old he was writing this… while the same boys his age then and now don’t even bother to think about #those less well off than them.#and of course we can say that this should be the bare minimum but it ever rarely is what we get. he was SIXTEEN!! and from a white #wealthy family.#like i went to a somewhat affluent school in california. kids from all sorts of backgrounds attended but mainly white privileged kids and #ofc some were great and more socially aware as we live in a more informative world but also… so many weren’t!#and a lot of these people wre white privileged teenage boys … some of them racist and classist as hell to put it lightly.#so many of them trump supporters despite having friends who were people of color or having grown up in a more diverse environment at school #and yet so many of them will never reach a 16 year old jack kennedy’s level of social awareness which wasn’t even much by this point #but Something! despite Jack’s own mostly sheltered upbringing up until this point in an all white privileged school.#kennedy #kennedy for your thoughts #kennedy family #jfk #jack kennedy #john f kennedy #john fitzgerald kennedy #john kennedy #jfkposting #kennedyposting

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thereareeyesinsidethetrees · 10 months ago

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last post for the night i swear

the real tragic part about the whole science fair incident is that perpetual motion is impossible to achieve

ford’s machine would have never worked, regardless of whether or not stan had interacted with it

(warning i accidentally wrote an approximately 30-tag dive into ford’s character in the tags don’t click see more if you don’t want to read that)

anyway!! good night everyone ❤️‍🩹

#it’s also tragic because ford didn’t know #the impossibility of perpetual motion was discovered far before that point and yet he didn’t know #i mean. ‘he’s actually just so arrogant that he thought he could break the laws of physics’ doesn’t make any sense #his reaction to the situation really didn’t match that interpretation as far as i can tell #i don’t think it’s just a ‘oh no! my dream school (that i was essentially shoved into pursuing)!’ type deal #here’s what i’m thinking:#fact one- stan and ford were seemingly already drifting apart by this point in time. this is important to note #fact two- it’s really emphasized to him that he’s smart. that’s all they say about him really- that’s he’s a genius #fact three- filbrick does not even care enough about stanford to say his name. he calls ford his ‘ticket out of this dump’#these last two points were likely heavily emphasized to him throughout his childhood #filbrick found out ford was smart and thought stan wasn’t. so ford became his plan to make money #ford is heavily bullied for his weirdness. his hands and his interests. being smart could ‘make up’ for this in his mind #he wants to leave. he outright states this- he doesn’t feel like he belongs and he wants to go somewhere he does (his own bermuda triangle)#so what essentially happened- i believe- is that ford internalized all these things #that his weirdness is bad and that he makes up for it by being smart and that he’s meant to make his family money-#-and that he wants out #his machine fails. this is a slap in the face to him. perpetual motion is impossible?#but why didn’t he know that? he’s supposed to be smart isn’t he? if he isn’t smart then what the hell is he?#what redeeming qualities does he have? how is he supposed to help his family now? he’s a failure isn’t he?#he spots a familiar bag. stan was here. suddenly he has an excuse- a reason to believe it wasn’t his fault #(and there’s really nothing to be at fault for but he doesn’t think that)#it’s easier to blame it on stan because of how distant they’ve grown. he can’t read stan as easily #and his reaction is suspicious- did he actually sabotage the project? is it…actually not ford’s fault at all?#they don’t speak to each other again for another decade #stan because he’s afraid of rejection #ford because he doesn’t want to face his own insecurities and emotions about everything #it’s easier to pretend that he wants to be famous and isn’t just doing it to make it his father money #and it’s easier to distract himself with things he loves than to feel all the guilt and hurt and frustration #and that. is perfect for bill to use to manipulate him #that’s my thoughts anyway. sorry for the rant was not expecting that to happen

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ireverie · 1 month ago

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see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jake x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that jake sim would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.

wc ↠ 14.9k

a/n ↠ jeno version of this fic posted on my nct blog revehae. yea, mine. i am her she is me. THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky

it was supposed to be like everybody else.

short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that sunoo boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through.

you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.

hook, line, and sinker.

far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.

no one told you to expect something different from jake sim. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.

which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.

as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jake turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”

jake raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”

“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jake, right?”

jake nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”

“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”

jake hummed. “are you now?”

you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”

“you think so?” jake asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him.

“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”

jake stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”

your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.

jake spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”

“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”

jake snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.

your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”

jake smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”

switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”

“am i?” jake asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.

“there it is,” jake sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”

you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.

“i’ll help you,” jake said after a pause.

you forced a smile. “great, so…”

jake interjected, “on one condition.”

smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?

“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”

jake grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.

you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”

“sure, you’re not,” jake answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”

“that’s not my problem,” you spat.

“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jake retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”

something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.

but jake had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”

“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jake asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”

“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title.

“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jake told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”

you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”

“right. too busy,” jake echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”

with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”

jake arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.

then, you started typing away, all the while jake watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.

“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you. “pleasure doing business with you.”

with that, you walked away.

jake shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?

over the next few days or so, you met with jake to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.

you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.

it was okay. jake’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.

short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jake’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.

more like sacrifice.

▸ gilded age

“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.

roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”

jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”

you snickered. “god, what happened now?”

“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently sunghoon.”

your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.

roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but sunghoon? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.”

“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”

“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”

roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”

you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”

jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”

your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.

“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”

you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”

roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jake guy is staring you.”

your head whirled around, spotting jake in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising.

roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”

you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”

for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jake for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”

your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.

what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.

“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jake were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwon?”

jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwon isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.

roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”

“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”

“a lot can change in two months.”

“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”

▸ takes two to tango

jake: come over

you: no

jake: that wasn’t a request

you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around

jake: not even for an A?

you: that’s what your grabby hands are for

jake: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us

you: i’m otw, chill. jesus

the knock of your fist against jake’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.

jake threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you.

“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”

jake shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”

you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”

ignoring your snarky attitude, jake glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jake was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.

“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.

busy, my fucking ass, jake thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”

“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”

“sure, you can,” jake replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”

“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”

“your attention,” jake said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”

the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.

without warning, jake grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jake would handle you delicately.

but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of.

in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jake, what the hell?” you exclaimed.

“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jake said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”

for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jake’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.

your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.

unsatisfied, jake bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jake, that hurts,” you whined.

jake didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”

you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.

needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”

“stop complaining,” jake groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”

your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped.

jake heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”

you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit.

the last thing you expected jake to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.

and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.

to make matters worse, jake was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.

maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jake said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.

even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.

jake had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased.

you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”

jake had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”

you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.

“takes two to tango, baby,” jake called after you, simpering.

you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled jake sim.

▸ chess, not checkers

deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jake’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.

jake didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.

instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.

the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.

and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.

jake could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jake for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.

the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.

but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.

and yet, maybe jake was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.

hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.

jake winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”

“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.

jake exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.

seoa recoiled, pulling away. jake had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”

jake ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”

a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jay marched over to jake, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”

jake snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.

jay’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”

rolling his eyes, jake grabbed the back of jay’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jake knew it had when jay’s confusion melted into disgust.

“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

jake chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”

jay couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwon like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”

that was news to jake. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from sunoo and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwon. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.

jay shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”

now that was funny as hell. jake had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”

jay made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwon. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”

jake shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”

jay gawked. that didn’t sound like jake. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”

“oh, dividends,” jake quipped.

“oh, and in what? pussy?”

“nope.”

jay looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”

it didn’t, not immediately, but jake had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.

jay shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”

“chess, not checkers, jay.” jake smirked, putting a hand on jay’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”

▸ things good guys do

“you’re lucky i was already out,” jake told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”

“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”

jake exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jay had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”

you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.

jake’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.

jake groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”

you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”

jake shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”

“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.

“you think that was assault?” jake asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”

scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”

“good guys have self-control,” jake replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”

you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”

“a blowjob.”

“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.

jake quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”

you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?

jake grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”

“that’s not the same!” you whined.

“of course, it’s not,” jake said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”

you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”

maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jake stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”

you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.

it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jake couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”

you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.

jake walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.

normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt.

“good girl,” jake praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”

you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jake, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.

jake hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”

your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.

not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.

at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”

your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.

that amused jake to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.

he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.

it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jake instructed.

widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.

jake was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.”

your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jake hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jake’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.

jake, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.

there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.

“lick,” jake said, chest undulating. “up and down.”

with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jake’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking.

jake’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”

you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.

if jake could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”

you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.

it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.

compared to when you first started, jake was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.

“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jake said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.

at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jake groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.

you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.

at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.

jake’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.

“open up,” jake said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.

not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.

when you tried to pull away, jake grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.

tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jake scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”

chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jake loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.

jake held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jake said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”

he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.

there was a fleeting second of relief when jake unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.

though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible.

you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.

“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jake taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.

it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own.

then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing.

with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed.

jake groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”

even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.

it got to a point where jake couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”

like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.

irritated, jake pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”

you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.

jake laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”

he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.

▸ hard feelings

something about today was different than usual.

when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.

but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.

it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.

you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about sunghoon’s clap rumor.

long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.

and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?

but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.

fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.

jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.

roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.

they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”

jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”

your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”

jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”

“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except… except jake. you tensed with anger.

roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jake reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.

your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jake didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.

“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”

jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”

then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.

you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see.

you: you and i need to talk. right now.

jake: about what?

you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!

jake: maybe u should have swallowed

you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone

jake: [one attachment]

jake: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it

you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.

adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.

you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you

jake: this is bigger than just you and me

jake: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out

and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.

if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.

you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.

no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.

you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.

“i’ve been texting you,” jake said, sounding miffed.

you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”

“aw, poor thing,” jake crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”

you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.

stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open.

“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”

it was a wonder you managed to make it to jake’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.

on the other hand, jake seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did.

you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”

jake chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”

your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?

“i’m sad,” jake said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”

you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”

jake nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”

you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”

“so?” jake asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”

you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jake, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”

“take everything off,” jake repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”

defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jake shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.

what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.

when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.

you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.

after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.

“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”

you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”

“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”

“i miss you,” you confessed.

“a lie don’t care who tell it.”

“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”

“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”

there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”

you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jake without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”

your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that.

taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”

your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”

in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”

“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”

“ma,” you groaned with a wince.

she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”

you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jake really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.

because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.

and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated jake sim.

▸ cheerleader? breed her!

standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.

you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jake and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.

there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jake’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.

you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.

jake came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”

you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”

jake chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”

you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.

jake’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”

you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.

“that’s not nearly enough,” jake insisted, squeezing your ass.

god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

“you know what i want?” jake asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”

your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jake had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic.

grabbing your arm, jake started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”

you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jake, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.

jake scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.

panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to.

then, you locked eyes with jungwon. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jake was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwon saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.

your shoulders slumped in defeat.

jake started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.

just your luck, the bathroom jake hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jake, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”

jake didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”

you swallowed, not saying a word.

the silence was very loud, very telling. jake arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”

your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.

jake chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”

you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”

jake shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”

it went without saying that jake always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed.

hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jake was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”

jake could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”

it wasn’t lost on you that jake obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jake. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”

“what a privileged response,” jake hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jake, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.

two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jake. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”

you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”

“me and you, we’re not the same,” jake remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”

“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”

jake laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.

“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jake said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”

your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.

“take my dick out,” jake said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”

you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jake had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.

getting a hold of your throat, jake roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”

you gawked, shaking your head.

his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”

with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jake released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.

he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.

jake had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.

you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.

the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.

“i’m so nice to you,” jake said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”

your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.

but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.

sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.

jake grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”

your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.

jake watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”

no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul.

your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jake, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.

jake smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”

jake snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”

those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback.

hips beginning to move faster, jake continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”

“jake, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half.

but jake didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”

there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.

jake stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”

you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.

jake threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”

your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback.

“jake, don’t…”

before you could even finish your statement, jake clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”

you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jake’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.

with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jake emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.

you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point.

to your surprise, jake started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.

you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.

then, jake stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jake, stop! it’s sensitive.”

“that’s the point, dummy,” jake replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.

your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered.

jake smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.

that made jake chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”

you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.

“please, what?” jake asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”

god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.

and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.

and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.

“shit,” jake hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.

your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jake thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.

after a moment or two, jake pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”

you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth.

jake raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”

your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled.

“you’re learning,” jake commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”

“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.

keeping your dress bunched up, jake grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”

you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight.

“did you think i was kidding?” jake asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”

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