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ziminy · 14 days ago

Text

I'll follow you until you love me

Having actor Gojo as your fan isn't for the weak

Tags: smut, mdni, f!actress reader, actor!Gojo, dark themed, stalking, obsession, jealousy, fan boy Gojo, mind games, lots of lies, manipulation, panties stealing, making out, fingering, oral (f receiving), drunk s(e)x, dubious content, people are shipping you and Gojo, fear play, just me going over the top again,

Author's note: thank you for 100 flowers �� I been working on this fic for a while and was waiting for a specific occasion to post it.

Masterlist

The first time Gojo Satoru heard about you was a long time ago. He doesn't really remembers the details but he knows he was so done with hearing about you left and right.

Everybody was praising this new actor who appeared out of a blue, and it was getting on his nerves.

Nothing was known about you, you had no connections to the inside world, your name wasn't affiliated with any big names. It was like you were put on the big screen out of nowhere and lend a big role like the director was forced to.

And his feelings only got bitter the moment he met you in person. Walking into his set one day and greeting everyone left and right, remembering names of some crew members he didn't knew they even existed to begin with.

But the cherry on top was when the director, that was known for being a bit too eccentric, presented you with the biggest smile on. Praising you and talking about how the day is so much better with you there. And you, instead of trying to show off, being humble.

He didn't like it. The way you looked so sweet, how you would laugh at the poorly made jokes and how you left just as soon as you appeared, giving him no chance to actually learn something about you. But he does remember how you promised to buy everybody a drink next time you pass by and how you look forward to his movie.

Another one of his fans? Huh? He thought, being disappointed that you'd be much more easier than he hoped.

But he only ended up being disappointed once again, because a week later you appeared on his set one more time. This time with drinks just as you promised, and the biggest smile on your face talking about the role you're auditioning for and how the set is closer to his. Well, you weren't talking to him directly, but the director. But since you were on his movie set you were practically sets neighbors.

Full of himself, he went to you, expecting you to be excited and faint just from seeing him, since you said you were a fan. But instead you looked at him the way you looked at everybody else, the same business smile on that was basically your free pass card in life. Refusing his invitation to drink with him tonight, talking about keeping it professional and how you don't dare to accept since you respect him too much. Fearing that you might do something that would embarrass yourself in front of him.

It was a lie, he quickly noticed the way your face change as you left with your assistant. A blank expression on your face, that smile disappearing, not having to put an act on as you thought no one saw you. But he did, and it got him thinking, spending the next few days searching and looking at any media form that haves your name on it.

Were you actually pretending? Was everybody's sweetheart actually a liar? Did he actually found dirt on you? What is he going to do with this information? Surely you don't want everybody to know about about it, right?

But when he thought he had you, a scandal with your name all over it was the only thing everybody was talking about. How your company was mistreating you and how you finally managed to break ties with them. And it didn't helped that everybody on his set was whining about you not asking for help, and how they noticed your sudden demeanor but didn't said a thing.

Now you had people fighting over you to join entertainment companies. Biggest names arguing about which one was better for you, you even had his company begging you to join them. And now he was stuck with hearing your name once again.

It didn't stopped any time soon, because somehow, miraculously, you decided to sign a contract with his company.

It was like you decided to torture him, play with his mind and lead him on even if you clearly set some boundaries between the two of you. Were you playing hard to get? Because after all those nights awake he learned that you didn't get involved with anyone in the industry. You refused executives after executives, big actors and renowned directors. You would rather get banned from the industry than being known for giving any kind of services or being known as someone's partner.

He didn't knew if he was supposed to be proud or get mad at how stupid you were acting.

But it got him even more invested. And now you had him watching every single thing you appeared in. It could be a small role, you could just appear in the background for a second and he'll memorize the entire movie.

Soon he got bored of that, and he moved into interviews, appearances or just people speculations, the nda you sign or make people sign. He still remembers about that time you got a nobody as your partner and kept him around for a few months. Even so, it didn't changed a thing about his interest in you.

His room was filled with you, pictures, posters, stuff from movies you acted in. His whole house was like this in fact. His closet filled with stuff you wore, you could even find the same products you use in his bathroom.

And the less attention you pay him, the more obsessed he became. Spraying his bed with your perfume every time you went on a date with your little nobodies, sometimes even asking people from your sets about you, not daring to get to close to you so you won't acknowledge him, even if he's dying to get your attention.

Imagine his surprise when you first acted in the same thing. Well, not really because he auditioned for the same movie as you, trying for a role that had it's screentime at the same time as yours. But he didn't really expect to get it. Oh who is he lying to? He called the director and demanded to play by your side, talking about how he wants to try new things and putting a act on so nobody would rat him out.

Just as soon as the roles were revealed to the public, he even hired a few people to post about the two of you online. But he did got hit by surprise from the amount of people that actually shipped you two. It got him giggling and kicking his feet, staying up and reading comments about how you looked together.

And you seemed to feed into fans delusions, interacting with him more and putting on a more friendly facade, like you were actually friends behind close doors.

Even if it was fake, he liked it. The attention you gave him, the way you finally look at him right in the eyes with more than just your business smile. How you sit close to him at interviews, your legs almost touching. And how you would joke with him when people were looking, actually trying to get to know him.

The promotions ended sooner than he'd like, and now he was alone once again.

He should have let go of you, it been already two years since you two acted together, and he did in fact almost forgot about you. His house was finally you free, not a single thing that represented you in any way in sight. And he been clean for the past few months, finally going in public and acting like old him.

That was until a movie director contacted him, wanting him to be one of the main characters in this action movie he's making. And his costar? You. You would play his love interest. He can't really remember what he said after that, but he did ended up with the role, now reading the script with great attention, trying to picture how your scenes would be.

The romance scenes weren't enough, the fans would want to see more, he said while talking to the director, convincing him to add more. And that's how you ended up with some really unnecessary spicy scenes. Making out in the bathroom, somehow fucking each other on his bed, lots of kisses and the sexual tension should be felt the entire movie.

"Director, can I talk to you?" you said when you visit the set for the first time.

"Did something happen?" the older man looked at your concerned face.

"I received the new script." you said, holding the papers in your hands. "Are all the new scenes really necessary? It's supposed to be about fighting for justice, not a romance movie." well, you were right. But the white haired man happened to pay for the movie's budget out his own pocket.

"It would reach to a larger audience." but were the sex scenes really necessary? You looked at Gojo, trying to communicate telepathically with him. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine." the director said, ending the discussion there.

This wasn't just about you, it was also about your coworker and about how he feels. You had to pull him to the side and talk to him, you didn't want any hard feelings or to end up with a twisted relationship because of a stupid movie. "You sure you're alright with the new scenes?" you asked, looking at the tall man as he seemed to hold back something.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?" he tried not to smile, happy at the way you seemed concerned about him and his well being.

"The change was out of nowhere and too drastic. I could talk to the director if you feel uncomfortable." you're so cute, he wanted to eat you whole.

"What about you. How do you feel about it?" he knew he went overboard, he blacked out when he made those changes after all. But he personally can't say that he regrets anything.

"It's just acting. Sure, I'm a little unhappy at the changes, but I'm alright with it if you are." god, he was dying to kiss you. He wanted to get to the parts where he could be closer to you, feel your skin against his and have a taste of your lips.

There were a few more weeks of filming until he got to the parts he wanted, and he was waiting patiently. Because he knew that once it started he'll get more than enough of you.

"That's all for today." the director said, finally announcing that it was the end of today's work.

"How about some drinks?" Gojo looked at you talking to your assistant before he looked at the director. "My treat." how could anybody refuse free drinks, especially ones that were payed by the white haired man.

You initially tried to refuse, looking at your assistant for a confirmation before you accepted. And that's how you ended in a bar with almost everybody on the set.

You let yourself to get losen for once, forgetting about the image you carefully builded and drank. You had your assistant there in case of anything, which you trusted a bit too much. But even so, you're just happy that you could drink, enjoy the company of others and feeling like you're just another person in there not just a big name actress.

And perhaps you enjoyed yourself a bit too much. Because people started leaving and you didn't felt like doing the same just yet.

It was just you, your costar, the director and your assistants in there in the end, it wasn't that bad.

"I'll call the car for us." your assistant let you know as they stepped outside for a moment.

"Our car is here." the director's assistant said, making the old man get up and leave. Now it was just you, your costar and his assistant that was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm kinda glad I'm doing this with you." you said, barely able to keep your eyes open. "I hear people talking about you all the time, and they all say how good you are." he stared at you with an expressionless face, still trying to think of what he should do next.

"Why don't we go outside for a moment? Take some fresh air." he wasn't prepared for a love confession just yet.

"Alright." you grabbed his arm, letting your body lean into his. He was sweating, his heart was beating so fast that he doesn't know what to do.

"T-then." he gulped, walking with you towards the back door of the bar. Good thing he reserved the whole place, because he doesn't know what he would have done if anyone saw you in that situation.

He placed you against the wall, sitting back next to you and letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

"Your hands are so big." you said, taking his hand in yours and comparing sizes. He was quiet, he just stared at you, his mind in a million places as he tried to figure out if this was some kind of hint or it was all in his head. "You're big in general." you looked up at him, blinking a few times and making him look away, a hand over his face as he tried to control his facial expression.

"It's nothing." he almost bite his tongue.

"I was a bit scared at first, but I'm glad we're in this together." seriously, are you trying to provoke him? "Let's work together in the future as well." if you weren't leading him on then he doesn't know what this is.

The way you look at him, and how you smile. It wasn't your work smile, you were genuinely smiling at him, heck, even your eyes were smiling. If this wasn't you telling him how much you want him then he really went crazy.

He lowered his head, taking another look at your face before he kissed you. At first it was something simple, just his lips touching yours for a second before he backed away. But the way you looked at him made him get closer. Those eyes of yours, having something that looked like sparkles in them. A fire that never seems to calm down, the heat that made him fall for you in the first place. Who can blame him that he kissed you again? Trapping your body against the wall, making you to wrap your hands around him, welcoming him in your warmth even more.

He let out a moan, looking at you with something lustful in his eyes and a smirk on his face. He looked dangerous, like he finally let go of that prince charming facade, showing you what he actually is.

You looked surprised, like you actually never expected him to act like that. Did you really thought that he's usually that sweet? How cute. He could play with you for a little longer, show you what he's actually capable of.

He bite your lip, looking straight into your soul as his kisses traveled to your neck. He sucked on your skin, placing a soft kiss on it before he sinked his teeth into it, making you to let out a gasp. He needed to leave his mark on you, because who knows when else he could.

He couldn't stay away from your lips for long, and now he's back on devouring you, filling the back alley with the sounds you make. "Come home with me." he tried to say, not wanting to get away from you.

You didn't respond, not because you didn't heard him, because trust me when I say you heard him loud and clear. It was more about what will happen after that, and your moral code. You'd rather die than get involved with anyone in the industry, and yet look at you still refusing to let go of him.

"Y/N, you're here?" you could hear somebody on the other side of the door. It was your assistant, probably looking for you to go home.

"Let go." you quietly moaned into his mouth. The door open, making you to push him away, looking at your assistant who had no clue of what's going on. "Is the car ready?" you felt like you sobber up, it's like you didn't touched a single drop of alcohol.

"It just arrived." your assistant looked at the actor next to you and then at you, not knowing if they should walk away or take you to your car.

"Alright." you left him in that alley, not even looking back at him for a single moment.

He had that look again, he's about to do something you'd both regret, or more like you won't like it. Because if he's shameless enough to do it, do you think he'd actually feel a little bit of remorse?

The next day you woke up with hundreds of text and missed calls, and your head killing you. And when you looked at your phone all you could see is people sending you the same article.

Two big stars making out in the back of a bar. Is this the start of a romance story?

Huh? What are these people talking about? Curious, and having no idea why people were sending it to you, you clicked on it. And you were welcomed with your name all over it, alongside Gojo's.

All you can do is cry. How drunk were you last night? You have to apologize to your costar. How could you have been so stupid? You can't believe yourself for doing such a mistake.

"Do not believe everything you see" you posted something on your social media. Trying to calm down the crowd somehow. You have to talk to your team about this since you have absolutely no idea how to handle it. For the moment it it was better to deny it then resolve this issues with Gojo's team.

Speaking of the wolf, you haven't checked on his social media yet.

You went on his profile, and instead of trying to take control over the situation he was putting more wood on the fire.

"Since everybody knows we don't have to hide anymore" you looked at his post in disbelief.

"???" you comment. Looking at your screen in disbelief at the way he was liking comments about how the two of you looked good together.

"Hi :)" he replied to your comment, making you even more confused. Was this a strategy for the movie? I mean, it wasn't a bad idea since you are his character's love interest.

Perhaps this was all an elaborate scheme that you weren't aware of just yet. That thought made you calm down. The internet was doing otherwise.

There were people who were genuinely happy about this, talking about how they knew it. Hell, you got other stars talking about how they always seen your interactions and they knew something more was going on. The fact that you didn't seen a single hate comment made you put questions, but who knows. You might see them sooner or later.

From that moment on, you didn't had a single peaceful time on set. Now you have people acting like your a married couple when nothing was going on between you and Satoru. But he seemed fine, in fact, he looked happy with the way people are treating you now.

He left his mark on you and you didn't even knew it. It was fine, even if you didn't looked at him as a potential partner, yet. It was alright. There was more than enough time. There's no rush, especially when he knows how to get rid of competition. Just like he got rid of your assistant for interrupting you at the bar, he can get rid of everybody that dares to get in his business.

"You're free later?" he came to you when you were on set, making people start whispering between themselves and giggle.

"Not really." you looked tired, if he knew you'd end up like this without an assistant he would have got you another one first.

"If you ever need my help let me know, I'll help you with anything." he means it, even if he looks like he doesn't. He will walk through fire if you tell him to.

"I'm just looking for a new assistant, don't worry." people were speculating that the assistant was the one who leaked about your so called relationship, but it was far from the truth. But the fact that they refuses to talk to you was confusing, even if it was your assistant who did that, why would they suddenly quit and go no contact? And what was more confusing was the fact that the only text from them was a screenshot of what you posted. Don't believe everything you see. What does that means? Was somebody bullying them? Then why wouldn't they tell you?

Now you couldn't help but be hesitant about chosing a new assistant. What if they end up having the same fate? Some people can be really mean and you don't want anyone to suffer because of you.

So, for the next few days you refused to even talk about your current situation. Only having your manager by your side and not trusting anyone that got too close near you.

He haves a limit, you should know that. How much longer he should wait for you to finally notice him?

This only made someone jealous, and a little angry. You don't want his help, even after what happened at the bar, you act like there was nothing you should talk about.

You should have went to him, jump in his arms and cry about how your assistant left you. But no, instead you chose to overwork yourself, still be the same kind actress that people loved and still giving him no attention.

So, he wrote you a letter. It was nothing more than his current thoughts and about his not so healthy love that was masked as 'admiration'. Shoving into your bag when no one was looking.

You were still on set when you were reading the letter, thinking it was made by one of the staff who happened to be your fan. You didn't really payed too much mind about it, finding it cute and putting it back where you find it after you were done with it.

Did you liked it? Should he write another one? Or did he went too overboard?

Do not believe everything you see, those were your own words and yet you were ignoring them. That letter did made your day, thinking that maybe you're just overthinking about your current situation. There were bad people out there, but there were also good guys. Why were you letting one bad incident ruin your mood?

A few days later you appeared at the studio with an unknown person next to you, you finally got a assistant. And this time you're planning on doing better than you did last time. Or so you thought.

You woke up with another letter, the same handwriting and the same sweet words written on it. This time was more about you than your so called fan, about how you should take more care of your health, how you got people worrying about you. But unlike last time, this letter had a signature on it, an S, nothing more, just a simple symbol.

How cute, S for secret, right? You giggled.

Do not believe everything you see. Really, do not. But for a moment you allowed yourself to be delusional, to think that the world wasn't that bad. I mean, even if there was someone who didn't appreciate you, you still had millions of fans and there are a lot of people who supports you.

And you decided to be more humanitarian, to step up your game and follow your costar's lead. One time after everyone was done with work you announced that you want to take everyone out for drinks, your treat. No one was crazy enough to refuse, especially you.

So, you called a friend of yours who owned a restaurant, the food is great, plus they also had a bar. And off you were.

Just like last time, you ended up all alone in that place with your coworker, laughing at his silly jokes before you finally got up to pay for tonight's feast.

"Your back?" you asked, feeling someone behind you and thinking it was your assistant. But to your surprise, it wasn't. It was the white haired man who seemed drunk, and maybe he was from the few drinks he had that night.

He leaned into you, trapping you between the empty receptionist desk and him. He kept looking at you, eyes half open as he seemed to want to say something.

Your mind was wandering for a moment, moving your eyes on his full lips before looking up at him. Every sane person would have done that, I mean, he was eye catching even in that state.

"You're alright?" you sounded concerned, and for a moment he actually thought you cared about him. You looked around the empty room for a moment, looking for any other people in there, but for his assistant more specifically.

"Don't leave me." he got his face closer to your ear, whispering in a low voice, and placing his hands on either sides of your body, trying to get his body more closer to yours.

"Come." you tried to get on of his hands away, so you could move.

"Where?" he only got clingier.

"Let's sit down. I'll get you some water." the last thing you want to see is headlines with your name all over them, talking about taking advantage of him when he's such a state.

"Noo." he whined, resting his head against your shoulder. "Don't want to." you sighed, looking around the room once again, trying to see if anyone from his team is still there.

"I got the bill ready." the cashier came back, only to freeze in place and look at you and your costar hugging, or what it seemed like a hug.

"I'll pay for it as soon as my assistant comes back." you said, trying to act like you're not being suffocated by this mountain of a man. The poor girl ran back from where she came from, leaving you alone with Satoru again. You sighed, you could only sigh as you put a hand on his back, making him break character for a moment as he jolted under your touch. "You can be such a big baby sometimes." good thing that you can't see him, because he was grinning from ear to ear.

"What happened to you?" your assistant finally appeared, looking at the scene you two were putting.

"He's drunk." you said as you rubbed his back with one hand, the other resting on his side, to keep him in place from falling. "Have you seen his assistant?"

"Not since the director left." your assistant got their phone out. "I'll give them a call." you're so thankful that you overcame your fears, because you don't know what you would have done alone in a moment like this. "They turned their phone off." you looked at the man in your arms and shook your head, disappointed at how this turned out.

"Call his manager, or anyone from his team." maybe he was the one who needed a new assistant, not you.

"No one is answering their phone." you understand that it's late at night, but who could just leave a big movie star like Gojo out here without a single thought about it. "What do we do? There's a hotel nearby, we could get a room for him there." that wasn't a bad idea. However, neither you or your assistant would look good if you leave him there. I mean, someone will have to get in the hotel with this world famous actor, who's face is known by everybody. He clearly drunk, and there would 100% be someone who will post something online about it and you'll get backlash for it.

"Let's take him to my place." that was the only option you had left. He started rubbing his face against you when you said that, letting out a groan and letting more of his weight into you.

"You're sure about that?" your assistant asked, not sure how to respond to what you just said.

"He'll sleep in a guest room. It's better than a hotel." your imagine had to come first after all.

So, without any more words said, you took him to your car. Even if he was heavy, he was surprisingly easy to move around. Well, he did followed every single of your move voluntarily, refusing to let go of you in any way possible.

That until you got to your house, dragging him inside when your assistant left, and leading him to a room relatively far from yours.

You pushed him in bed, taking off his shoes and trying to get him comfortable in bed. You didn't even dared to get close to his clothes, just putting the blanket over him and then leaving him in there.

You didn't even thought of taking advantage of him, you just wanted him sleep peacefully, to keep him away from anyone who might do something bad to him. After all, you knew damn well the industry you're working in, they'll eat him like wolves if they get their hands on him.

You're just helping out, you don't expect anything in return. But what a surprise to wake up with him in your bed in the middle of the night. He was on top of you, looking at the way the moonlight hit your face, and somehow wanting to bathe in your scent.

You could feel his hot breath on you, and it made you woke up. You didn't looked scared, even if he looked like he wanted to do things you'd rather not think about, you stayed calm. "Why did you leave me?" was he still drunk, or perhaps he was pretending to be? He was a good actor after all, you wouldn't be surprised if this was one of his acts.

He doesn't understands you. If you were the one who jumped in his arms like that he would have devoured you alive. But even after he made sure he could get some time alone with you, you still didn't payed him attention, at all.

"Go to sleep." you looked unfazed, not even taking him seriously.

"Touch me." he was really going to lose his mind. He was serving himself on a plate to you, and you didn't even dared to take a bite.

"You're drunk." you'd always try to do the opposite of what he's saying.

"I'm not." you knew he was pretending from the start too, didn't you?

"That's what a drunk person would say." you were getting on his nerves.

In a moment of panic, he took your hand in his, kissing your palm, closing his eyes and looking desperate as he tried to show you how he's feeling. You didn't even bat an eye, looking at him expressionless and like you didn't believed a word be was saying.

"Why don't you like me?" he had to confront you, or else this will take him nowhere.

"It's not that." he got the wrong idea, but it wasn't your job to explain yourself when he only understands what he wants to understand.

"Then? Why do you keep avoiding me?" you shook your head.

"I want us to keep it professional." you're making him laugh.

"We weren't professional when we kissed." that's another story. "So you just used me and now you'll let me hanging like this?" he really didn't wanted to listen to you unless you said something he wants to hear. "Make it up to me." what a fucker. "I want something in return for what you did." he's talking like he didn't started it last time.

"What do you want me to do?" you really can't believe him and his stupid demands. This should have been a payback for last time. Taking care of him even if he wasn't your problem to begin with.

"Kiss me." he was waiting for your response. "Like you mean it." you just said you want to keep it professional, but it's like he didn't even heard it.

"Can't I do something else?"

"Post a picture of us." that was even worse. Who knows what people would say if you do that. You'd really be branded as his, and it was a pain in the ass to deal with it.

You grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him closer to you, giving him a kiss that he'd remember. A wet kiss that it filled the room with sound, and your tongue in his mouth dancing with his. You even wrapped your hands around his neck, making sure he doesn't back down and take back his words.

He moaned, his hands trying to get under your shirt to feel more of your skin. But you didn't let him to do anything because you ended the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at him a bit angrily. "What now?"

"Bite me." kissing wasn't enough, he wanted you to eat him. Bite him, devour him in any way you could so that way you could have a piece of him with you.

"I'm not-" he kissed you, this time pinning your hands above your head so he could explore you more freely. Every time you tried to say something he'd bite your lip, making you groan and continued to kiss you.

"Touch me." he moaned, finally getting his mouth away from yours so you could breath. He took his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room and taking one of your hands in his, placing it on his crotch so you could feel how hard he was. He looked at you, at the face you made and how you didn't looked happy to be in that situation.

"It's too soon." you still refuse to get involved with your coworkers? What does he haves to do to prove to you that he means every single word he's saying?

"Do you really not like me?" he wanted you to be at least a little interested in him. It was no fun if he's the only one with big feelings in there.

"It's not that." it's your moral code.

"Do you ever think of me?" you didn't respond to that, only looking down at your hands amd trying to avoid eye contact.

"I'm not ready." you finally open your mouth to say something. "If we do this then nothing will be the same. We still have work to do, I can't simply just do it." so it was because of work? He already knew that, but at least you didn't dislike him.

"I get it." he said, getting off you and sitting down in bed. "Just go to sleep."

"You can sleep here if you want, I'll go somewhere else." you tried to get out of bed, but he dragged you back.

"Just because we're not fucking that doesn't mean we can't sleep." he will not let this night go without doing something. And just being able to feel your body against his as he sleeps is more than enough. Trust me when I say that this will drive him crazy for many days from now on.

The way you stay in his arms, and how he's able to shield over you. You really have no idea what power you hold onto him.

Do you regret bringing him in? A little. You hate giving people false hope, and he seems to ignore all your signs of displeasure. He did grew up in this environment after all. Being rich and famous from a young age, he haves no idea how to react when people tells him no, he can't handle rejection. And it seems that he always got what he wanted.

He didn't had to put on an act if he wanted to be around you. You could be friends, if he wanted. But nothing more, you wouldn't dare to be something more than acquaintances. You just work together, and are signed under the same entertainment company. You were nothing more than cash cows. You were the biggest stars of your agency, and you seemed to be pushed under the spot light as much as possible. He must understand how you feel, no?

He in fact didn't. And unlike you, he had more control over his actions. You could even say that the agency was afraid of him. He did come from a big family of stars, he had so many connections that even he can't say for sure how much power he was holding. But it was no joke when someone says he's the strongest.

So how can you reject him like that? Leaving him alone in that bed without blinking twice. But perhaps it was for the best, because he could finally rearrange his thoughts and think of what he should do. Retreat wasn't an option, I mean, how could he step back when he basically was in paradise?

This place smells exactly like you, leaving a sweet taste on his tongue and making him salivate while bathing in your scent. Should he steal something? You shouldn't tell him twice, because he got up the bed and starting looking around the room. He should pick something small, that you wouldn't notice. And even if you do notice, what will you do? He's shameless, you'll only give him a reason to get off to later when he's alone.

He should get something practical, that would help him during hard times.

And that's when he saw it, your closet. Something in his perverted mind suddenly lit on, and he went straight for your panties. There's so many to choose from, so many colors and models. He wants to take all of them home, put them on display right at the entrance so he would be greeted by them every time he comes home. In the end he picked one of the prettiest pair you own, shoved it in his pocket and went back into your room.

He gained more than he expected. Perhaps he should play drunk more often.

He got his shirt back on and got out the room. You couldn't possibly just left him in there all alone. And he was right, because he found you in the kitchen, sitting peacefully and taking a sip of some unknown liquid from a cup. "You're up?" the way your voice was still husky, your hair messy and your shirt falling off your shoulder. You said you didn't wanted him and yet you're trying to seduce him, how does that come?

He didn't open his mouth, only getting closer to you and taking the cup away from your hand, drinking from it without a single worry of what it might be.

It was tea, not so sweet, still warm and somehow hitting just right. "If you wanted some you could have said so." you said, getting up and walking towards one of your cabinets, getting out another cup and pouring some tea in it. "Here."

"I'll drink from this." he preferred your half empty cup rather than a full one? What a weirdo.

"Do you want to eat anything? I still have some leftovers from yesterday. I also think I still have some jam left, we could eat it with toast." stop showing him your caring side. He really doesn't know for how much longer he can keep it like this. This moment felt too intimate, it felt like you two really hooked up last night, and it was messing with his head.

You take good care of him, don't you? Offering him some of the biggest clothes you own so no one would suspect a thing, giving him a ride back to the studio. And now acting like you don't even know him. Stop being so cute, it only makes him want to bite you.

"You're here today?" the director said, looking at the two of you who got there at the same time.

"Don't we need to be here for a costumes check?" you clearly remember your assistant telling you to come back and do a last minute fit check.

"It's tomorrow." the white haired man said, wrapping his arm around yours.

"Why didn't you told me?" he was enjoying this too much, all a smile as he was trying not to react at your expression.

"I thought you were taking me home." you didn't even knew where he lives.

"Just go, you love birds. You clearly have better places to be at." the director laughed, making you look in disbelief at him. Love birds? Who?

"Come on, let's go back." Satoru didn't let you say a thing and dragged you out of there.

All he needs to do at the moment is keep people away from approaching you. And it's not hard, at all. Just standing next to you, flash a smile and say something that could be interpreted in wrong ways. He doesn't even need to try to make people run.

"Seriously, why didn't you tell me?" you said when you got back to your car. "Now I look stupid." you looked so gloomy, he was going to eat the pout of yours.

"I thought you knew." he'll get you even more confused about things if it means he'll see you like this. It gave him a false sense of security, like you were finally accepting him.

You sighed, not wanting to let out your anger on him. "Let me drive you home." it would be bad if more people sees you together. And at this point you don't trust anyone to come near your home to get him.

What a joke.

The next day you woke up with people blowing your phone again, and another article of your name next to his, talking about everything you did in public. Your interactions at the bar, how he was spotted at your house where he didn't left until the next morning, and about how you always look lovey dovey at the sets.

The filming progress just started and yet there were already rumors all over the internet about how you two would end up being more than just coworkers by the end of that movie.

Who keeps writing this? Seriously, it was getting on your nerves. And the fact that Satoru kept feeding delusions to the fans wasn't helping.

All this hype around the movie wasn't supposed to be only about you two, the main cast. It was supposed to be about all the production. The set, the visuals, the acting and the script, everyone's hard work. You should have turned down the offer as soon as you heard who your costar would be. But you didn't see any of these coming, so who can you blame?

Things only seems to get worse, because when you stared filming again, you got assigned with a new task.

"So, we're filming what were doing behind the scenes?" you asked, looking at the small camera that one of your coworkers was holding and then at them.

"The director said it would be fun. Giving people a little preview of what's going on." well, it didn't sounded that bad. People seems to enjoy behind the scenes footage in general, letting them see a bit of the actors lifes.

"I see." if the director said so, then you guess you don't really have a saying in this.

"We started already?" the white haired man appeared next to you out of nowhere, resting a hand on your head and leaning into you.

"Satoru, say hi to the camera." the actor said, moving the device to his face.

"Oh right, Y/N." there was a hint of his evil plan in his voice, already knowing you'd be pissed with him. "Are my clothes still at your place? I think I forgot them there." you really couldn't control your expression in that moment, looking at him like he killed somebody.

"What?" your voice was shaking, still not over the fact that he would say something like that in this situation. "Why would they be at my house?"

"I changed there last time. I think I left the clothes on the couch before we left."

"Ohh~" the other actor said, making you to look at them, somehow begging them to not get the wrong idea. "I see you're busy. I'll let you be, I won't interact."

"No, wait. It's not what it seems." it was already too late. "Why would you say that?" because he knew the director loves drama, and this would end up being published sooner or later. He was killing two birds with one stone. Doing a favor for the movie's publicity and showing the world that he already been in places some wouldn't even dare of dreaming of.

"People love things like these." he wrapped his hands around you, resting his chin on your head. "Hug me, the camera is in our direction." if it was or not, he couldn't care less. He just wanted to feel your touch in that moment.

It only got worse and worse the moment you started filming the sex scenes. The scenes were like a reflection of your own actions in real life, because everything started with a drunk kiss at a bar. Then ending up in his apartment where you were eating each other in the hallway.

It was supposed to be acting, the kisses didn't even needed to be real and yet he's not even holding back, touching you in all kind of inappropriate places, groping you shamelessly like there aren't cameras all over the place.

He pinned you against the sturdiest wall in there, making you wrap your legs around him as he kept biting and kissing you all over the place. At this point, you don't think the editors would need any sonds effects for your scenes. Because you realized how filthy those sounds were, and loud. Every time you kissed it was echoing in that empty place, the small setting that was supposed to represent a house wouldn't be enough to muffle the sounds.

He bite your lip when he realized your head was in a complete another place. How dare you ignore him in moments like these. You couldn't run even if you wanted, because you'd have to come back to him and film everything from the start. Or perhaps he could make you screw up on purpose, to retake this scene so he could touch you even more.

"Wait." you tried to stop him when you felt his hand under your shirt, trying to unclip your bra.

"What?" he said out of breath, taking his lips away from you for a moment so he could look at you.

"Let-" you looked away, too embarrassed at the way he was looking at you, his pupils were dilated and he looked like he would really put his dick in you if it wasn't for all these people in there. "Let me do it." his lips were back on yours while his hands were trying to take your clothes off.

Both of your clothes were all over the place, and you know it would be a pain in the ass to pick them after. He was too focused on this, the way he looked like he couldn't see anyone but you, like you were really alone in his house.

That's the beauty of acting, no? How some could get so focused on the plot, acting like their character is supposed to and forgetting about the outside world. But he wasn't acting in that moment. Maybe you were, but he taking this very personally. And the fact that you were holding back moans, refusing to touch him more than necessary and trying to stay in your character was infuriating him. It wasn't his character that makes you feel good, it was him.

He ended up throwing you in the bed a little harder than he intended, his touch becoming rougher and his kisses even wetter than before.

Good god, it's good that the scene ended soon after you two got to the bed, or else you would have lost it. You're already soaking wet, you have no idea what you would have done if this kept going for too long.

The scene was perfect, as much as you're embarrassed about it, it was pure perfection. Not a single time did the director called cut, you didn't had to retake the same scene from another angle. Nothing was said about your so called acting besides that you were in complete sync.

He's taking revenge on you, isn't he? Because even now after you finished your scenes for today, he looked at you with the same hungry eyes. And you swear you didn't mean it, but it made your pussy clench.

You gave him a quick look, squeezing your thighs together for a moment when he looked back at you.

It was something that he never saw before, the way you act. That expression on your face, pouting and looking at him with this thing in your eyes that made him want to drag you somewhere far away from people. You needed him, didn't you? And he was going to help you if you asked him to. Because if he got you in that state, then he also had to resolve your problem.

But you didn't spoke to him, you just looked at him all needy for a moment, like you wanted his touch back on you and then left, leaving him with the worst bonner he ever got in his life. This, only to come back a few days later for your next scenes.

You were driving him insane. And there aren't enough interactions in the movie to take out his frustration on you. There are too little scenes, and sometimes he had to improvise when he was getting too lost in his feelings. A few kisses here and there, just a quick peak when you were in the background to give more life to the movie.

But you still didn't said a thing, acting like this was all part of the script, like you were payed to do so.

So can you blame him when he wrote you another letter again? This time more aggressive than the previous times. Talking about how you got him feeling, how he craves for your touch and it drives him insane the way you seem not to care. Give him attention, or act like you acknowledge him. And this time he left the paper in your dressing room, placed under one of your stuff where he knows you'll know it was meant for you.

Too bad he couldn't see your reaction when you read the letter, but he realized you weren't too happy about it. It got you acting paranoid again, he could see it in your eyes, your body language. How you need to have a bit of distance from anyone that tries to come too close to you, and how you seem not to trust people anymore.

It was just a letter, he didn't even wrote everything down. No, in fact, he held back a lot. Because if he did wrote his mind you would refuse to come back into the movie set ever again.

But that's your charm, I guess. How you don't hide your feelings, and how you try to not make it obviously that you're displeased with things even if it's written all over your face. You're a good actress, a very good one, and yet you don't act unless you're required to. You were the opposite of him, where he always haves a mask on, the same business smile as you. But unlike you, he doesn't mean an thing, this friendly facade.

You were genuinely a sweetheart, while he only acted as he sees fit. And in this moment he's so close on fucking everything up just to toy with you. Because he's at his limits.

It was time for another suggestive scene, the set being filled with less people than usually. The lowlights, the atmosphere and everything in there was a bit suffocating. But maybe because of how much you overworked yourself these days.

"Do you think the plan will work?" you asked, sitting on his couch and looking at the coffee table that was placed there by the staff members.

"Do we have any other option?" he said his line in a serious tone, his character was supposed to be stressed from all the unfortunate events that happened lately, but it seems that he too is stress. Well, everybody been working overtime lately, but the sooner you were done with this movie the sooner you could move on with your life.

"I wish we could resolved this peacefully, I'm tired of fighting." you sighed, looking at your fingers for a moment and then at him who was resting not so far from you on the couch.

"Come here." he pat his lap, his back resting against the couch and he didn't even wanted to move an inch from there. He was improvising again, he was supposed to get up and drag about bottle of alcohol into this.

You followed his instructions, not wanting to pretend to be drunk again, and somehow not wanting to act in that moment too. If he haves a better idea for this scene then you'll follow his lead.

So, you sat on his lap, legs spread on either sides of him and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands resting on your hips, moving towards your ass as he grabbed you and dragged you closer to him, your chest pressed against his as he placed you over his hard cock. You could feel him through his pants, and for a moment you stopped functioning, not knowing how to react to this.

"Well figure it out." he kissed you, his hands going under your shirt to make contact with your burning skin.

The kiss was so sloppy, both of you too tired to figure out a pace you should go at. Just touching, getting lost in the way your bodies seem to welcome each other openly. For a moment even forgetting where you actually are at the moment, and if the director wouldn't have said cut, you could have definitely escalated things.

What was going on in your mind? How could you let yourself so carefree? If you was just a bit more tired and at a state where you couldn't think properly, you would have definitely dragged him to your changing room and fucked him there.

And you woke up with another letter, even worse than last time. Talking about how your body looks, how he wants to get his hands on you, how you turn him on in the worst way possible.

The more you ignored those letters, the more they came. It got so bad, describing his fantasies, the way you appear in his dreams to haunt him like he wasn't haunting you right now. You had no idea who the sender was, because sometimes the letters would be sign as S, sometimes they would just be filled with nothing but filthy words and no signature. But you knew it was the same person from their handwriting.

You'd always wake up with them in places where there aren't many people allowed. And no matter how hard you're thinking about, you can't figure who it was. There were no cameras in this side of the studio, so you couldn't even see who was tormenting you.

"Why don't we go drinking tonight?" the director said one time before you were almost done with work fot that day. "We're almost done with filming, lets celebrate." after all these stressful days, you could use a drink.

It will be quick, go there, have a chat with a few people, have a drink and then go home. But just like last time, one drink turned into too many and you ended up in a corner of the bar with your costar who seemed to feed you even more alcohol.

He had his chin resting against his palm, looking at you with a smile on his face as he kept pouring more of that bitter liquor into your glass. "I can't drink no more." you couldn't even speak properly, hiccuping and moving left to right, like you were about to fall off your chair.

"One more won't hurt." the bar was still filled with people, so he had to keep himself in place.

"I got the car ready." your assistant came to your table looking at you and then at the white haired man. "I have to take her home, she's already too drunk." maybe he should get rid of this one too. It seems that all your assistants like to get in between his plans.

But perhaps he got a better idea. He took your glass, gulping down everything that was in it in a second before he tried to get you to the car. "Give me a ride too." he got in the backseat of your car, pretending to fall asleep after some time.

Your assistant tried to call anyone related to him, to come pick him up from your house because he seems too drunk to even stand on his own feet. But since no one was answering, they had no choice but to get him in your house, leaving him on the couch before they left.

It was always easy, so damn easy. He couldn't help but laugh. Drunk, him? He never got drunk in his life. Alcohol seems to have no effect on him.

He made his way to your room, getting next to the bed and looking at you sleeping. How dare you be so at peace when he's there? You were panicking all over the place last time he wrote you a letter, crying and refusing to talk to anybody if it wasn't for work. And now you act like you forgot about it.

He stood in place, looking down at you with an expressionless face as he can't think of anything at the moment. He got this far, so what? He could scare you more, give you a reason to hate him but at the same time all he wants to do is stand there all night and look at you.

He took his phone out, taking a quick picture of you before he put it back in his pocket.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, not far from where you're sleeping, looking out the window and then back at you. You had quite a nice view, no wonder you always seem to be in a hurry to come home.

Should he do something mean? Leave another letter in your home to see your reaction the next day. He could put it in one of your pockets and act like he doesn't remember anything besides going to the bar to drink. Maybe even leave the front door open and say some shit about hearing something while he was asleep.

But before he could think of anything more, you extend a hand, grabbing him by his shirt and trying to drag him closer. Like before, he just stood in place, looking down at you who seemed to pull harder. Were you mistaking him for the blanket or something? Unfortunately for you, he won't take off his clothes until you do so.

"Mm." you groaned, opening your eyes to look at the white haired man confused. "Ah.." you rubbed your forehead. "Fuck." that was the first time he heard you swear. "Come here." were you still sleeping? Because he doubts you'd react that lightly to him being there. But you were calling for him, and he wouldn't dare to say no to you. So he got in that bed, getting all cozy next to you and waiting for your next move.

For a moment you just touched him, moving your hand on his face, trying to feel something before it went lower on his body. He stood there, observing your clumsy actions and letting you do whatever you wanted with him. Your hands kept wandering, from his chest to his abs under his shirt, and now you were tugging at his pants, trying to see what you didn't got to see until now.

You were funny, the way you looked surprised whenever you discovered something new about him. "Don't do that." he said when you kept trying to get your hands in his pants.

"I want to see it." you pout, looking at him for a moment before you moved his shirt out the way, exposing his lower abdomen. "If you're as big as it feels." his heart skipped a beat, he couldn't help but cover his face with his hands. Do whatever you want, he'll hold back so you can explore as much as you want. "Ohh!" seriously, he can't even look at you when you make those faces. He was biting his lips so hard, he's afraid he might moan before you even touch him. "Why are you so big? Look at the size." his cock twitched, making you let out another surprised sound.

"Touch it." he said between his teeth, looking at you between his fingers and at what you're doing.

Your eyes moved on his, a serious expression on your face before your eyes went back to his dick. Can you even fit something like this inside you? The size was just ridiculous, but that didn't stopped you from touching it. Moving your hand around and studying like it was the first time seeing a cock.

He was bucking his hips forward in your hand, breathing heavily as he tried to keep himself from touching you. This was the first time you ever showed interest in him, he can't just fuck this up.

"How does it feel?" you asked, looking at the way he throws his head backwards, his chest rising and falling down.

Good, it feels so fucking good. He might go crazy from how soft your hand was. He moaned, not even being able to let out words, or think of a way to respond to you.

"I want that too." you took your hand away, making him to finally look at you as you took your clothes off. Now sitting on top of him, taking his cock back in your hand and trying to take him inside your pussy. But it didn't matter how much you're trying, it was impossible to get at least his head. It hurts, the more you try the more frustrated you became. "It doesn't fit." his dick twitched again. You're killing him, you're saying stuff he didn't imagine you to say, and it was killing him inside.

"I'll make it fit." he pushed you off him, pinning you down into the bed as he got in between your legs, placing kisses on your body as he went lower and lower, until he got to your pussy.

He loved the way you taste, it was better than he imagined. So much fucking better. It was no wander he was trying to devour you, I mean, who knows when he's going to do this again. So he might as well do it until he memorizes your taste.

Your hands went through his hair, tugging at it lightly as you let out soft moans, even cursing under your breath from time to time, letting him know how good you were feeling.

He pulled a few orgasms out of you, loving way too much the way your thighs wrapped around him, or how you're trembling, looking at him with teary eyes and you only seem to want more.

He'll give you more, he'll give you as much as you ask for, fuck, even more. He'll make sure to make you fit him, prepare you so good that you could only fit his cock from now on. He'll give you a reason to keep going back to him.

He got up from between your legs, sitting next to you as he got his hand back to your pussy, slowly pushing two fingers inside and making you gasp. "Is it good?" he whispered in your ear, feeling the way you clench around him. All you did was to nod, looking at him with big doe eyes and leaning more into him, to feel more of his warmth.

"Deeper." you said when he didn't went more than halfway through, moving his fingers at a slow pace that it left you hanging, almost giving you no friction whatsoever.

He kissed you quickly before moving his eyes back on your pussy, resting his cheek against your head. Be careful what you're wishing for, he'll go so deep that you'd feel him in places you never knew existed. It's already hard to hold back, but if you keep provoking him he might let his mind slip for a moment.

So, doing just as you asked him to, he got deeper, curling his fingers upwards and making you squirm. He kissed you again, this time taking no break as he kept bullying your insides, making your walls get tighter around him. How is he going to live without this? How can he go back home and act like everything is normal after this? That's why he couldn't help but move faster, in a irregular pace as he kept stopping from time to time only to go rougher. So you wouldn't get too used to him.

You were a moaning mess, and he seems to only want you to lose your mind, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, kissing you as he made you turn around so he could do it from another position. He wants to go even deeper, to get back at your words, for requesting unnecessary things when he was going to give you what you wanted anyway.

"One more, come on baby. Give me one more." for how much longer is he going to say that? He's starting to get on your nerves at this point. But in the end, he finally took his fingers out of you. Dragging you closer to him so your back could be pressed against his chest, one of his arms under you head as he kept your hair away from your face, so he could be able to look at you. "You'll fit me now." he whispered in your ear, dragging your hips back and grabbing one of your legs, spreading them apart as he start whispering more filthy words in your ear. "Look at how you're taking me in." he said, waiting for you to say something, but to his surprise, you're long gone into the dream world. Sleeping soundlessly in his arms, like you forgot that he was even there.

He can't believe this. You actually fell asleep. You really dared to fall asleep and leave him there after you dragged him in your bed. The audacity you had. He's going to make sure to give you a hard time tomorrow for this. So, he too fell asleep next to you. A bit hard to do so, but he managed somehow.

The next day you woke up with your head killing you. You shouldn't have drank that much, how could you have been so dumb.

You were about to turn around when you realized that someone was in your bed, a pair of muscular arms around you, and someone breathing into the back of your neck. Your heart stopped working, you froze in place as you saw your soul leaving.

"Morning." a masculine voice could be heard from behind you, and you feared that you knew exactly who it was. He pressed his body into yours, letting you know you were both naked, and feeling his hard cock pressed against your back.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to run from there and not look back for a single moment. How could you have been so stupid, how could you just do that. Just how drunk did you got?

"Don't tell me you're planning on running away." he whispered into your ear, making you flinch. "You dragged me into your bed, put your hands all over me and now you're going to leave me after you used me as you pleased? I had no idea you were that type of person." you whined, because that's all you could do in that moment. What other explanation do you have?

"I can explain." he pressed his cock into you harder, making you yelp.

"Oh yeah?" one of his hands traveled on your body, now going up towards your boobs, making you gasp when he groped one. "You kept me up all night." you cried at his words. "Don't you remember the way you got on top of me? Trying to get my cock inside then crying about how big it is." you closed your eyes shut, trying not to let out another whine from remembering what happened last night.

"I'm sorry.." what else could you say besides that?

"You weren't sorry when you were telling me to go deeper." his hand went down your body, wanting to go in between your legs to spread them again, but you jumped out of bed.

"I'm sorry, alright. I have no idea what got into me last night." you were really planning on running? Don't make him laugh.

"So you really just used me then, huh?" he stood there, in your bed. Half his body being covered by the blanket while the other was all naked, his skin exposed to you and he didn't seemed to me ashamed at all by what happened.

But if you think about it, he was the one who got a bottle of a really strong liquor and dragged you to the corner of the bar, making you have a glass with him. "It's your fault too." his eyes wided, looking at you like he didn't expected to hear that. "I might have dragged you in my bed, but if you didn't liked it you wouldn't have stayed." he smiled, finally letting his mask drop as his body language suddenly changed. He looked more relaxed, a smirk on his face as he uncovered more of his body.

"Come here. Let's continue from where we were." you moved you eyes away from him, not daring to look in his direction as you could see his cock. "Don't be shy now. You weren't last night, so why should you be now?" you're not going to listen to his nonsense anymore. "You don't want me anymore? How sad." he looked at the way you were going to your closet. "I still want you though." you ignored him as you went to get dressed. But you couldn't even do that in peace because he got behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and resting his chin against your head. "You should wear that, it looks good on you." he pointed at some dress you had in there.

"I'm not going anywhere today." you want to be comfortable, not dress up for nothing.

"Then wear nothing. I like it when you have nothing on." you could feel that, since he made it sure to let you know he was still as hard as before.

"Here." you said as you picked some clothes that were clearly too big to be on your size. "You can wear this." now that's he's thinking about it, something doesn't add up.

"Why do you have male clothes in your closet?" who else wore these? And you dared to give them to him like it was nothing too.

"I like buying them since they're comfortable." oh, that was an option too. Why didn't he thought of that? I mean, it's been quite a while since you last been in a relationship, and he knows that since he always knows what you're doing. What if he's not paying attention to you one time and you get married? He can't possibly let you do that. That empty spot in your bed was reserved to him. "We needed to talk." you said after you got dressed, getting out your closet and walking outside your room.

"About what?" he knows this moment. You always make people sign an NDA before you get into a anything deeper. But what he doesn't like about your relationships is that it's almost never too intimate, you just go out, eat, spend some time together and then that's it. Did one of those fuckers left you disappointed and now you're avoiding contact with other people? How sad. But well, since you have him now you don't have to think about that anymore. He'll get you drunk on his dick, and he'll make sure you only have eyes for him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know if we can continue this." huh? That wasn't what you were supposed to say. "We still have to film the movie, and then the promotions. I don't want anything awkward between us."

"What about after?" you didn't said a thing, only looking down at your feet before looking at him. "So you did play with me, huh?" perhaps this was your revenge for making you feel weak. He can't believe you actually knew of his doings and you didn't said a thing.

"If you still feel the same after everything is done.." huh? What did you just said? You were actually going to give him a chance? The NDA still sounded better, and he'll sign it in a blink of an eye if you do hit him with one.

He thought that something would change, that you'd be more open to him. But no, you were still as distant as ever.

You were playing with him, weren't you? You were just playing dumb because you knew how he actually was feeling. Well, he too can tournament you. From that day onward he kept writing you everyday, placing the letters in really inconvenient places and watching your reaction from not that afar if he could.

He made sure to not let you rest a single moment while you were on the set. It did not lasted for long whatsoever, because the filming soon ended and the film was sent to editing, giving everybody a break until the promotions starts.

You skipped the party, lying about how you got a cold and you didn't want anyone else to catch it, so you stayed at home.

You still remember the day the trailer was published, the way your phone was blowing and how you didn't dared to even look at it that day. But when you did turned it on, everything was worse than you imagined.

The trailer opened with a scene of the city, then it got to the point of where the conflict started, and as you watched more, the more scenes from the movie were put in, the fighting, the peaceful times, and it ended with you and Satoru kissing against a wall. A big long scenes of just the two of you almost fucking in there, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

The comments? You could smell them from a mile away. You could hear screamings and whistles, like you knew exactly what people were talking about. And you were right because when you opened that section you were met with people talking about you and your costar rather than the trailer itself.

"Was the last scenes necessary?" a comment said, and you couldn't agree more to it. But the replies under it said otherwise.

Your social medias? Filled with people purring about you and Gojo. And he seemed to enjoy this as he kept liking comments about the two of you. And now people were officially calling him your husband. He was the one demanding to be called yours, not the other way. Because you weren't his property, he was yours.

You tried to get out the house in god knows how many days, finally going to the agency to talk to your manager about the situation. Can't you calm it down somehow? And the answer was no. The media was responding so positively about this, you couldn't just say something about it when you were put in such a good light. I mean, look, there were so many people requesting for you appearance than any other times before. Your team was busy responding to phone calls and emails for you.

So many people wanted you in their movies, because if they get you they also get Gojo. Since he apparently, you have no idea when, said that he won't act in a movie unless you're there. And if you accepted a role, then they automatically get Satoru too. Killing two birds with one stone. Having two of the most hot actors, who happened to be a so called power couple, acting in their movie was a free pass to the most sold movie of the year.

But you didn't even looked at those offers, no matter how good they were. You don't want to get involved with him anymore, he was only going to bring you problems.

Instead of accepting any offers, you decide to make a quick appearance on some big show that only asked for you to participate. The first thing you heard today that didn't involved Gojo's name into it.

You were so happy to go there, all a smile and stress free knowing that you don't have to get involved with that guy any time soon.

Did you really think that it was going to be that easy? You just got there on the set and you were met with one of the questions you were trying to avoid.

"First of all, I'm a big fan." the host said when you sat down on the couch. "But I don't really wanna say much so your boyfriend won't get jealous." you awkwardly laughed. "How is he, btw?" you had no idea what to say.

"You know." you said, biting your lip and trying to think of an excuse. "We both been busy." you don't even know in what county is he right now.

"I'm sure you are." the interview went on, moving to other discussions and you managed to forget about the white haired man for a moment. "Hold on a second." the host said as they talked to a staff member. "So, um, I was informed about something. And, Y/N, we actually have a gift for you?" how sweet, you thought. Only to be welcomed with your costar on the set, making the audience clap. "What a surprise, right?" you smiled, putting on your same old business smile on as you tried to keep your composure.

"I was nearby and I was thinking why not paying a visit." he lied as he got closer to the couch.

"It's always nice to have you here." the host said. "Please sit down, I actually wanted to ask about the new movie you two played in."

"I'd love to but I'm kinda in a hurry." he leaned down towards you, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and messing with your hair for a moment. "You two have fun." he said as he got away from you. "I have to go now. I wasn't even supposed to stop to begin with." he waved as he left, making the audience sound way too happy about this.

"Relax, no need to be shy." the host said, looking at your expression. "We already saw the trailer, it's nothing we haven't seen already." you wanted to cry. "So, about the movie. Does it have more of those scenes or were we deceived with the trailer?" you'll make sure to pick a written interview next.

"I'm not really sure if I should talk about it.." you tried to change the subject.

"It's not like you're spoiling the movie for us. We're curious about you and your partner." and that's what you don't like.

"Well.." everybody's eyes were on you. "Let's just say that you'll see more." that was enough to make the crowd go crazy.

Because of that guy now you can't even deny that you two aren't together anymore.

You would have been alright with all of this if the nothing happened between the two of you, and if Gojo felt the same way as you. But he seemed to push the idea of something happening between the two of you to the public. It was driving you crazy because you didn't know how to react. You always told yourself that you won't get involved with anyone from the industry, that you'll make a few more movies and then retire, find someone simple and live an almost normal life.

But instead you're here, stuck with media actually approving of this non existent relationship.

You have to talk to Satoru next time you see him. But you never really got the chance to do that in private when the promotions started.

Interview after interview and it only looked like you were surrounded by more and more people. And he didn't wanted to talk to you when you tried to pull him aside, talking about how people will think something inappropriate about the two of you when he was the one who was saying stupid things in front of the camera.

Now it was the premiere, having to stay arm in arm with him the whole time. And he doesn't hold back even for a moment, letting his hands roam around your body and making the crowd go insane.

"Let's talk." you whispered to him, making him lower his head so he could hear you.

"What about?" he was playing dumb, he already knew what you wanted to say.

"Do you have some time later?" you said as you wrapped your arm around his, following his lead as he was guiding you around the red carpet.

"Who knows." he said that, but at the after party you managed to trap him in a corner not allowing him to go away before he had a talk with you. "There are people watching." a smile on his face as he said that, looking at your angry face as you had him pinned to the wall.

"I don't care. You're going to run again." look at how the roles switched. He had no idea you would actually try to confront him.

"Then." he wrapped his arms around you, looking down at you and grinning from ear to ear. "What do you want to talk about."

"People are thinking that we really are in a relationship." your current position wasn't any better either. People were giving you looks like you were being perverts in public.

"They are?" why was he acting shocked when he was the one feeding that idea to others.

"We don't have to pretend anymore." you said, but that only made him to drag you closer.

"You said you'd give me a chance after we're done with the movie." you said a lot of things that you didn't mean, why was this any different.

"I just said that I don't want people to think we're in a relationship. What do you not get?" snap at him more, he can't be any happier than he's at that moment. He leaned down, his face getting closer to yours and placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Keep your promises, don't disappoint me." you huffed, turning your face in another direction only for him to turn it back towards him and kiss you on your lips. "Let's get out of here. It started to get boring anyway." why did you listen to him was a mystery, why you followed him to his car and back to his house was something you couldn't figure it out. And how you ended up in his bed? You can't really respond to that either.

He was kissing you, hands under your clothes and trying to get them off as fast as he could. Moaning into your mouth whenever you touched him, pushing his body into yours and trying to become one with you in a way or another.

How could you think that you could leave him? What would he do if he doesn't have you? What is he supposed to do from now on if he can't think about you 24/7? To even dare to think about abandoning him, he's going to punish you for this.

"Turn around." that stupid dress was in his way, he can't believe your stylist really made you wear this. What if there are fuckers out there who still dares to look at you even after he made it very clearly who you belong to.

Well, whatever. He'll make sure to get rid of that stylist of yours. Not a big problem.

He kissed your back as your skin became exposed to him. With a swift movement taking your panties off and throwing them somewhere easy to spot, to not forget to take them later.

You had to tell him to take his clothes off so you could catch a break, otherwise he would have took you there from how impatient he was.

You just stood there, at the edge of his bed, one leg over the other and looking at him trying to take off his tie faster. He really had to wear a fucking suit, now look at him, he was about to rip it off him. And look at you, you look so calm about this, enjoying seeing him struggle while he was losing his mind. "Undress me." he looked down at you, taking a few steps closer to you, and taking your hand in his and placing over his white shirt to unbutton it.

You might as well do it, you don't see why not. But the problem was him and his stubbornness. Kissing you, almost pushing you in bed while you were just trying to do as he said. It took a long time, and the task seemed to never end, but here you were now, with him on top of you and making you wrap your legs around him. No fancy party could make him miss this, in fact he couldn't even care about that damn premiere to begin with.

His hands were traveling on your body, touching you in some of his favorite places. You were so warm, he couldn't help himself. How you gasp whenever he's groping you, dragging you closer to him so he could feel you even closer, even if there was no more space left between the two of you.

"Put it in already." you demanded, but he wasn't going to just give it to you yet. What if you struggle like last time? He can't let you say such dirty words again or you might not be able to walk at all tomorrow.

"There's no rush." you can act as cute as you want, he's going to take his time with you. After all, you need to see how good he can treat you, make you feel so good that all you'll remember is his name. He kissed your forehead before he moved his eyes on his hand that was going in between your legs. "Look how wet you are." you were a bit embarrassed about it. "And you said that you don't want me." your body can be more honest sometimes, and he'll love to learn more about it.

He got some of your juices on his fingers, moving it around your clit to see the way your body tensed immediately. Weren't you a needy one? He kissed the side of your face before pushing two of his fingers in, paying attention to the face you were making and at the way you were sucking him in.

He moved his hand at a relatively slow pace, it was more about to make you feel the way you're taking him, how deep his fingers can go compared to yours, or anybody else. You can only feel like this because of him. See the way you're still so tight? That's because he wasn't there to stretch you out the way you needed.

"Keep your eyes open, alright baby?" he spoke to you in a baby voice, making you feel like he was mocking you. "Don't hide from me." can't he just fuck you already? Why was he playing around so much.

You did tried to do as he said, keeping your eyes open and trying to avoid eye contact with him because it made your pissy clench. This was so embarrassing, the way he was taking his sweet time and giving you almost no friction at all, and how he seems to enjoy this. Like torturing you was bringing him pleasure.

He didn't let you say a word and smashed his lips against yours, placing his palm against your clit as he finally started to move like he means it. Curling his fingers up so hard it got you squirming and letting out a few moans. And you never seem to stay in place, moving around and arching your back every time he was hitting something that makes you see stars.

You were a mess, the way you were so wet that your juices got on his bedsheets, and the noises your body makes were so obscene and loud it was hard to ignore.

He noticed the way you look at him, pleading for some mercy like you were at your limit about to break. But there was so much more in you, one orgasm wasn't going to stop him from giving you another. And he swears on his name the next one will be even mind blowing.

That's when he took his hand back to himself, making you sit more comfortably in bed before he positioned back in between your legs. This time he'll make sure you'll stay awake and take all of him, there was no other way.

You looked at his face and then at his cock, at the way he had his head at your entrance, almost pushing it in. You'll take him? Like, you're really going to fit him? "You can do it." he said when he finally pushed some of his cock in. "Fuck." he cursed under his breath. "I know you can do it." he let out a moan, throwing his head back for a moment before moving his eyes back on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed and the cutest pout you ever showed him. It was like you really had a death wish, to fuck with his feelings like this and making his dick twitch. If he couldn't control himself any better he would had came right there on the spot. "Too much?" he said as he kept pushing his cock all the way in, making you nod as your words were stuck in your throat. "That's too bad."

You won't see any sympathy from him. Does he even knows what that means to begin with? You're too delicious, and the fact that he could pull even more expressions out of you made him push you over your limits.

So here he was, moving in and out of you way slower than he wants, rubbing your clit with his thumb and observing you like the pervert he is. He was salivating, drooling over your weak form as you showed him your off guard self. His cock twitching every time you let out a moan, and making you jolt at the sensation.

"Does it hurt?" he asked as he kept looking down at you, moving his hips in the same old motion. You nodded again, eyes still closed and biting your lip because of how he made you feel. He'll make it hurt even more, don't think that you can rest yet just because he's going easy on you. Fuck, he wants to sink his teeth into you so bad, leave marks all over your body as he rams his cock in and out of you.

But then you looked at him, big teary doe eyes that had him seeing a flash before him. He almost came, like, he almost cum just because you looked at him. If you want him to keep it together you have to talk some sense into him, because he doesn't think he can recover from that.

"You can move." no, don't give him a green light. Torment him more, play with his feeling and edge him till he's losing his damn mind. Don't be so sweet to him, he'll end up locking you up if you do that.

He pressed his chest against yours, his mouth finding yours as he started kissing you like the most starved man on earth. He moved his hips without a warning, slamming into you like you were his toy, and yet demanding for your touch. He was pushing himself into you, trying to steal the air away from your lungs as he seemed more desperate with each thrust.

He was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to snap at him and push him off, or tell him that's he's being too rough so he could stop being so delusional. But you didn't, only dragging him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him just as needy as he was, both of you being a moaning mess. And not letting go of each other even after you came, wanting to feel even more. To cum again and again, and to be filled by him to the brim, even if you knew that would bring you some serious problems later when you finally come back to your senses.

The next day you woke up with a sore body, your skin aching all over the place, and barely being able to get up the bed.

That didn't stopped you from getting dressed with some clothes you found around the room, what you can only assume it was his since they were way too big.

You got out the room, in hope to find your phone or maybe the white haired man so he could get you back home. And now you were in the living room, looking around for your things. Instead finding a letter, that seemed way too familiar.

That handwriting, you could recognize it everywhere. And that damn signature, the fucking S.

It was one of the letters he didn't managed to 'give' it to you yet. And honestly, you don't know if you should be relieved or terrified because this one was worse than anything before.

You turned around, paper still in your hand and looking at the tall guy who had his back pressed against the wall. He was expressionless, no thoughts behind his head as he seemed to stare at you like he was looking into the void.

It was him, that damn son of a bitch. He played with you all this time and you had no idea.

"I made you breakfast." he said, not every caring if you found out about his doings or not. "Come while it's still hot." he let out a laugh at your expression. You never hold back, do you? Can you at least try to not look like your about to kill him?

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu satoru

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scarletwinterxx · 3 months ago

Text

unconditional - jeong jaehyun imagine

hellloooo~ before i go back to being an absolute mess, here's a scenario for our valentine boy. i miss him already😭🥺😭🥺

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Three rings.

It took three rings before you answered the call. It was late so he thought you might be asleep, but he knows you always sleep late so he gave it a try. Just before he was about to hang up he hears your voice from the other line

"What?"

"Not even a hello?" Jaehyun chuckles

"What do you need, Jae? Aren't you rehearsing right now?"

A few hours ago he sent you a text while he was at the practice room, complaining about how he wanted to go home already but he still had a lot of songs to rehearse. It's now past midnight and he just got back home and the first thing he did was call you.

"Nah, I'm back home. I need to wake up early though. I'm going to dye my hair for the fanmeet"

"What is it with you guys and dyeing your hair before enlistment?" you teasingly ask him, referring to your older brother who did the same before shaving his head full of damaged hair just a few months ago. "Are you gonna go bald too?" you ask with a laugh

"Yea no, Jungwoo's not going anywhere near me with a pair of scissors"

"Aw, I was looking forward to that"

"May I remind you how you cried when you saw Taeyong hyung after shaving his head" he reminds you, recalling that emotional night.

The two of you met through your brother, his leader, Taeyong. Through the years you and Jaehyun grew close since you're the same age and used to attend the same school. What he likes most about being friends with you is how you treat him like a normal guy, not some famous boy group member.

To you, he's just Jaehyun.

As for Taeyong, he knows there's something more but he doesn't say anything about it to you. He'll let you figure it out on your own. He already had that talk with his member and even though Jaehyun may be his bestfriend, when it comes to you it's a different conversation. Though Taeyong already knows that Jaehyun's priority is very similar to his, your safety and privacy. Your brother knows you're in safe hands.

"So why did you call again?" you ask your bestfriend

"What's your favorite hair color that I did?"

"Huh? You called just to ask me that? I dunno, blonde? Like your hair during Perfume promotion? Ooooh but pink suites you too"

He listens to you list down all the colors, waiting for you to finally pick one. He lays down on his bed, staring at the canopy above while your voice fills his ears

"Okay I think it's blonde" you say with finality like it's such a serious discussion

"Are you looking at pictures of me?" he asks, a teasing hint in his voice

"I need reference, just to be sure. Why are you asking me anyways?"

"Nothing, just curious. Anyways, I got the tickets for you for the fanmeet"

"Oh shit, didn't I tell you I can't come? I have this thing I can't miss"

Jaehyun immediately sits up on his bed, mood already deflating. It's the last time he'll perform before his enlistment and he was hoping you'd be there. You're always there to watch the group and even the individual members' concerts, in a way you try to show your support while your brother is away.

"Really? You can't reschedule the other thing or maybe come the second day?" he asks, voice still hopeful

"I'll ask my supervisor, no promises though. Sorry, this was scheduled since last month"

"No, don't worry about it. Guess I'll just see you after? I still have your gift from Paris"

"You didn't need to get me anything, I told you! Anyways I need to go, talk to you tomorrow" you hang up the call before he can say anything else.

There's really no other agenda, you weren't about to miss your bestfriend's first solo event. You were going to be there no matter what, rain or shine. You just wanted to surprise him.

The two of you still messaged back and forth before the event, until the morning of the fanmeet Jaehyun was hoping for a change of plan from you but it's been hours since he last heard from you.

"The fans are coming in now, you're going on in less than an hour" his manager tells him "Some of the members are here too, just waiting for the others"

"Okay"

He scrolls through his phone, singing quietly to himself while he waits. People are going in and out of the dressing room so he didn't pay much attention to whose coming in through the doors, little did he know one of the staff member was guiding out just outside the door while you hold a big bouquet of flowers.

"Did I overdo it?" you ask his manager, earning a chuckle from them "I think he'll like it" he tells you

"He better, I spent a good amount of money for these. He's in there right?"

"Mhm, he's alone now. You can go in, maybe he'll stop moping around"

You thank staff for helping you before stepping in his dressing room, he's sitting on the couch with his back to you so he still hasn't seen you.

"Heard you were moping around, maybe this will cheer you up"

Jaehyun turns his head so fast, almost gave himself a whiplash. Checking to see if he heard that right, if it was really you. And there you are, standing a few feet from him with the biggest bouquet of flowers

"Thought you were busy today?" was all he can say.

He really thought you weren't coming today, he was feeling really down despite looking forward to this event for weeks. He just really wanted to share this day with you and now you're here.

"I was lying, forgive me but I wanted to surprise you so you can't be mad at me" you tell him, walking over to where he was. He stands up from his seat to meet you in the middle, you give him the flowers smiling so big your cheeks hurt.

"You really think I was going to miss this? How little did you think of me?" you tease him, there you notice his blonde hair recalling your conversation from a few nights ago "You look cute, I like your hair"

He still hasn't said anything, just looking at you like he can't believe you're here

"Yah, what's with you? You okay?" you ask

Instead of saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug. One arm around your waist while the other holds the flowers you got for him.

"Thank you for coming" he whispers against your hair. You smile at his words, you throw your arms around his shoulder to give him a proper hug "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Are you going to sing my song though?" you jokingly ask as you break from the hug

He looks down at you, now mirroring the smile you had. His previously somber mood making a complete turn for the better now that you're here.

"Which one?" he teases back, even though you think he's only joking there's truth to his words. His songs is his way of confessing his feelings to you. It's not as easy to say the words outright but when he sings them, it's much much easier.

He remembers how much you liked it when he made a cover of 'Like Me Better', that was one of those rare moments he's seen you fangirl over him. When he found out one of your favorite movie moments ever was the one from 10 Things I Hate About You, the scene where Heath sings for Julia, he decided to do a cover of that two. The smile you had on when you first heard his voice singing it is forever etched in his mind.

From then on, you've been referring to it as 'your song'. He performed it too during his birthday event, you were there in the crowd of course wearing a disguise but he didn't forget to throw a smile your way as if to let you know that that song is indeed for you and only you.

"Wait and find out, I'm not gonna spoil it to you"

"So you are singing it" you grin at him, already getting excited

"I'm singing my songs too, aren't you excited for that"

"I am, shut up" you give him a punch on the shoulder, "Oh and Taeyong oppa said goodluck" you add, walking to where he was sitting before. He puts the flower down, following you on the couch while the two of you wait for his manager to call him on stage

"Are you gonna cry tonight? Promise I won't make fun of you... a lot"

He knows you would, like he knows how you would probably take a video if ever do cry. "If I cry, then you'll cry too"

"I'm a sympathetic crier, sue me"

"Your brother will kill me if I make you cry so you better not, oh now that you're here" he takes a paper bag from his stuff, passing it over to you

"Ooo goodies from Paris, is it a keychain? fridge magnet? Wait what the hell, Jaehyun?! This is expensive" you say as you open the cartier box

"Early Christmas gift" he shrugs

"You said that was the Prada bag you got me last time you were in L.A"

"That was your birthday present"

"I can't accept this, Jae. This is too much" you tell him but he's already taking the love bracelet out of the box along with the little screwdriver to put it on for you

"Add it to your stack, it will look good" he mumbles, his focus on putting the bracelet on your wrist

"You gave these too! You're spoiling me too much" you laugh, watching him struggle a bit

"Good, so now other guys won't impress you that easy while I'm gone" he mumbles, finally the bracelet locks on your wrist. He looks up at you, sending you smile then lets go of your hand. You shoot him a look, as if asking him what he meant but he choose to ignore you.

"Hey, we need you out there now. Let's go" his managers peeks his head inside, calling for Jaehyun.

He stands up, you follow behind him but before he steps out the door you hold him by the arm "We're going to talk" you tell him

"About what?" he asks, blinking back at you

"You're insufferable, you know that"

He chuckles at your statement, taking the hand that was holding his arm to hold it in his instead. Intertwining his fingers with yours. You look down at your linked hands, it should feel weird. He's your bestfriend for goodness sake. But instead it feels right, like your hands were molded to fit together.

Hoping he doesn't notice your cheeks getting warm, you keep a straight face while looking up at him.

"Told you, my songs are about you. Didn't you hear the part I said I've been crushing on you but I've just been keeping it to myself"

"How was I suppose to know that was about me?!"

"Who else would it be about?" he asks back, still smiling at you. His dimples on full display

"My answer is always you" he teases. Another song lyric, you know that one too. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you give his side a pinch using your free hand

"Jaehyun we need you backstage!" the two of hear his manager shout from outside

"You have so much explaining to do, Jeong Jaehyun" you tell him, letting go of his hand to push him out the door but he don't budge.

He smiles at you again before swooping down to give you a kiss on the corner of your mouth, catching you totally of guard.

"I'll tell you everything there is to know, later. For now I got a show to do. Gonna make sure my girl won't take her eyes off me" he winks then he opens the door, leaving of behind in utter shock.

You walk out the dressing room, watching Jaehyun's back as he makes his way to the stage. Before he turns to the corners, he looks back at where you're standing sending you a quick smile and a salute. You smile back at him, waving your hand to send him off.

#nct #nct fic #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct x y/n

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smileysuh · 3 months ago

Text

dumb frat boy - TEASER

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.”

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.”

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff.

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.”

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?”

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!”

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?”

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 20 days ago

Text

Honey Girl. Christmas.

chapter synopsis - Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas for you this year. Bucky’s determined to change that.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - cursing.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - I know what you’re thinking… murphy, this is a christmas chapter and it’s january 2nd. and yes, I know. I admit that I had a lot less time than I initially anticipated over the festive period to write. regardless, I hope you enjoy this. it’s a flashback, set between chapters 6 and 7 <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

“You have icing on your face.”

You chuckle as Isabel rubs at your cheek with her sleeve, trying to be gentle but failing miserably.

“What colour?”

“Green.”

“Christmas cookies,” you say as you smack her hand away, laughing when she glares at you playfully. “The kitchen is covered in red and green icing. It looks like an elf was murdered in there.”

“That sounds festive. And morbid. And… delicious?”

“You want to take some home?”

“Yes!” she gasps with excitement. “I was telling my brother about them yesterday, he’s desperate to try some.”

“Remind me later, and I’ll grab you a box.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

You’re rising from your chair to return to the kitchen when Isa grabs your hand, pulling you back down. You quirk a brow at her in confusion, asking a silent question.

“You’re going home for Christmas, right?”

She’s squeezing your hand rather tightly, waiting like an eager puppy for your response.

“I, uh - yeah. I think I am. Need to make sure I get back here in plenty of time for opening between the twenty fifth and new year.”

“Girl… what? That means you’ll only be home for a few days. That’s not a real Christmas.”

“It’s okay, it’s just the way things are. It’ll be a super busy few days anyway, knowing my Mom.”

She looks at you intently for a moment, and you can practically see the wheels turning in her brain.

“We’ll cover you.”

“Isa… what?”

“We’ll cover it. Me, Stella, and we can get Justin and Mikey to help too. They’re coming to give us a hand over the next few weeks anyway, so they might as well pull their weight.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Isa-”

“Please. You’re the backbone of this place - it’d quite literally fall apart without you. The least you deserve is some decent time off with your family back home. You deserve a proper Christmas.”

You’re quiet for a moment, contemplating everything. The more you think about it, the more you’re tempted - the idea of more time with your parents and Bucky is too good to pass up.

“Only if Stella agrees. And you can’t convince her - she has to agree on her own terms.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I should be thanking you,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“Okay, now leave.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been here since 4am. Please, go home.”

“Isa.”

“I am so serious right now. Look at my face. Look at how serious I am.”

You can’t help but laugh at her, the stoic expression she wears doing nothing to hide the amusement behind those big brown eyes.

“Fine, fine. Man, you’re bossy today.”

“I’m learning from the best.”

You hit her with your dish towel, punishment for the jab she made. She’s giggling like a maniac, skipping back to her place behind the counter.

“Isa - call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Always.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You’ve been in the same spot on the couch for an hour when there’s a knock at your door. Reluctantly, you get up to answer it, disappointed about leaving the cocoon you’ve made so comfortable.

Your hand is on the door knob when you feel a sudden rush of warmth through your chest, spreading rapidly to the tips of your fingers and the soles of your feet. Suddenly, everything is a little bit brighter, more colourful, more vibrant. The birds are chirping louder, the sun setting in a more beautiful shade of orange than before.

He’s here.

You swing the door open to reveal Bucky, standing looking hopeful with his overnight bag in his hand. He gets even more beautiful every time you see him. His hair is a little longer, his stubble growing out slightly, freckles scattered across his golden cheeks. He looks like the sun has come down to earth and given him a kiss, just because.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

He’s wrapping his arms around you before you can move, creating a safety net that blankets you both. You breathe him in, the scent of the ocean and musk and wood and home.

“What are you doing here?” you mumble against the soft cotton of his t shirt.

“Came to surprise you. Thought we could have our own Christmas, the two of us.”

“Really?” you ask as you pull back to look at him.

“Really. Isabel says you’ve been working too hard, and that you need a pick me up.”

“You talk to Isa?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

You laugh like you can’t help it, shaking your head at the idea of the two of them messaging each other.

“She was very adamant about sending me home today. It all makes sense now.”

“Our master plan worked,” he chuckles, stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind him.

You’ve almost forgotten how easily Bucky fits into your space, like he belongs there. He throws his bag down and sits down on your couch, sinking into the cushions like they’re moulded to his shape, ready and waiting for him to return.

“How long are you here for?” you ask as you slide yourself into his side, slotting in perfectly.

“Just a couple of days. And then I’ll see you back home for Christmas with your parents, yeah?”

“You’re coming? My Mom said she wasn’t sure whether you were or not.”

“I can’t say no to one of Lori’s Christmas dinners. I’ll come over at lunch time, give you guys the morning to yourselves. Won’t overstay my welcome, promise.”

“You could never overstay your welcome, Buck. Not possible.”

He presses a kiss into your hair, pulling you closer so there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“I got you a present. Wanted to give it to you while we’re alone.”

“You did? I thought we said we weren’t gonna do gifts?”

“We did. But I know for a fact you got me something, didn’t you?”

You chuckle, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yes, I did.”

“Knew it. And anyway, I didn’t buy it. I made it.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him in curiosity, watching as he bounds across the living room to rifle around in his bag. When he finds what he’s looking for, he jumps over the back of the sofa, returning to his original place next to you.

“Here.”

It’s wrapped very precisely, a book sized rectangle with neat corners and careful folds. There’s a red ribbon tied around the centre, and the idea of Bucky sitting and trying to get it just right makes your heart ache.

You unwrap it gently, reluctant to undo all of his hard work. He’s watching you intently, determined to see every little reaction on your face.

Sitting in your hand is a leather bound book, with a forest green coloured cover. Your name is engraved into the front of it, carved into the material forever. You open it up to find that it isn’t blank, but contains templates of some sort, the pages covered with very faint geometric lines.

“What is it, Buck?”

He grins, turning some of the pages so he can show you.

“It’s a blank cookbook. Thought you could write down the final copies of the recipes that work after you’ve developed them, have them all in one place.”

“I love it,” you whisper, running your fingers over the pages. “What’s this pattern? On the paper?”

“It’s the blueprints. For our house.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I made them as transparent as possible, so your eyes wouldn’t get distracted. But I wanted to have a piece of us in it, to remind you.”

“It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received,” you smile, willing yourself not to cry about it. “I love it so much, Buck. Thank you.”

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, all sugary sweet.

“My turn, now. Though lower your expectations, please.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing when you shove at his shoulder. You pull his gift from the drawer in the coffee table, handing him a small box.

He opens it carefully, lifting the lid to reveal a navy bracelet, all woven and intricate. He turns it over to look at the inside, gently tracing the embroidery with his fingertips.

“They’re our birth flowers.”

“I didn’t even know I had a birth flower,” he chuckles in awe. “Honey, it’s… it’s beautiful.”

“I made it.”

His head whips up, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You made this?”

“I went to a class with Stella and Isa, it was like an introduction thing. And I knew how to embroider anyway, so that bit was easy.”

“I can’t believe you. Is there anything you can’t do?”

You’re laughing as you shake your head, dismissing his attempts to massage your ego.

“Like I said, it was a workshop.”

“I love it so much, honey girl. Thank you. I’ll never take it off.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he murmurs against your lips, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you closer. “Never ever.”

He kisses you with purpose, one hand gripping the back of your neck as the other wraps around your back to plaster you to him. You tilt your head to let him slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting the coffee he must have been drinking on the drive down.

Just as you’re about to pull his shirt up and over his head, his stomach rumbles louder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What have you eaten today?” you chuckle, carding your fingers through his hair to fix it.

“I had an early lunch, but I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you?”

“Not yet. You wanna make something?”

“Cake.”

“Huh?”

“I think we should make a cake for dinner.”

“Bucky Barnes. What is wrong with you?”

He laughs all full and warm, and the timbre of it settles nicely into your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about all the stuff I’m missing out on now that you’re here and not at home. The cakes, the cookies, the macaroons, the tarts…”

His stomach rumbles again as he clutches it dramatically, throwing himself backwards onto the couch cushions.

“And so you want cake for our Christmas dinner?”

“Yes I do.”

You can’t fight the grin that’s sweeping across your face, no matter how much you want to.

“Let me make you something to keep you going while I create the best cake for dinner you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

A huge kiss is planted onto your cheek, joy practically radiating off your soulmate next to you.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich, honey. I know it’s gonna take you a while to line your baking tins.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that he remembers the time you were ranting about cutting greaseproof paper and bottomless cake tins and butter versus margarine for stickiness.

“I have homemade bread in the pantry. Sourdough from the bakery.”

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s pressing a kiss into your hair as he rises from his seat, wandering towards the kitchen to get things moving.

“This is a stupid idea,” you laugh, following him. “What kind of cake do you want?”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“I’m never going to get over this.”

“So you like it?”

“Honey. My God.”

He groans into his last forkful of cake, placing the utensil down onto his plate with a definitive clang. You’re both sat at the kitchen island, the two of you having just finished your second portion each.

“Good, because we’ve got a whole cake to finish before you go home.”

His head is resting on his hand as he looks at you with bright eyes, watching every micro expression that graces your face as if it’s a rerun of his favourite movie.

“Make sure to write that recipe in your new book. We’re making this a Christmas tradition.”

“I like that idea,” you smile as you lean over to press a kiss to his sugary lips. “I like that idea a lot.”

“Good.”

You stack the plates and are about to get up to stick them in the sink when Bucky grabs your wrist, keeping you sat down on the bar stool.

“Hey, pretty girl?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

His thumb rubs circles into the back of your hand, the touch so familiar that you almost don’t notice it at first.

“Why haven’t you decorated for Christmas?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought you’d at least have a tree, or some lights hanging. Maybe an ornament or two. But you don’t have anything.”

“Oh. Um… I don’t know. Just haven’t had the time, I guess.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. You’re not sure you believe a word you’re saying.

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas,” you whisper honestly. “Even when I was in culinary school, I’d go back home for Christmas. And now I’m here, and I have like three friends and no family with me, and it doesn’t feel like Christmas.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you sniffle, pulling the sleeves of your shirt down over your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

He’s up and out of his chair immediately, wrapping his arms around you where you still sit. His familiar scent and his familiar warmth comfort you instantly, heart rate calming down ever so slightly as he holds you.

“I know it’s all new and different, but that’s the exciting thing about this, right? It’s not what you’re used to, but you have the chance to create new traditions and a whole load of new memories now.”

“You’re right,” you mumble into his chest. “I think I was so stuck on thinking about how different everything was, that I forgot that different can be a good thing.”

“Exactly. I’m here for a couple of days, and then we can go home and have the Christmas Day with your parents that you’re used to. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“You are the only person in the world I wanted to see when I opened that door earlier.”

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” he hums as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Why do you think I drove all the way here?”

“Because you’re the best.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he chuckles, pulling you with him towards the couch. “Now come on, we need to watch a Christmas movie. You pick.”

“Love Actually,” you say without missing a beat. “It’s Love Actually or nothing.”

“Done,” he’s laughing, reaching for the remote.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lacing your fingers with his. “For everything.”

“Always. Merry Christmas, honey girl.”

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

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fangdokja · 7 days ago

Text

Trust no one. Not even yourself.

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where love feels like a cage and loyalty is a loaded weapon, you must navigate the suffocating grip of those who claim to care—because sometimes, the ones who love you most are the ones who break you.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! College! Bully x Fem. Reader

♡ Novella. Torn Between Us - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 12,333

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, social isolation, bullying, love bombing, explicit domestic violence and realistic depictions of abuse in the family, mature language, crime, unhealthy coping mechanisms, gaslighting, victim blaming

♡ A/N. It's kind of hilarious that I get comments from "Are you okay?" to "Why do you romanticize sexual abuse in glamorous ways". Yes, in that wording too. The dichotomy of comments. Of course, already putting it out there, I'm not the type of person to chat and waste time in internet arguments. If one doesn't obey RULES, immediate block, no questions asked. It's also to make sure these people don't get bothered by my content that disturbs them. So, it's a win-win. But, to me, it's funny. Like "Wow, thank you. It's so good that it felt so realistic, huh?". That makes me happy. A big turn-off for me as a writer (but I don't mind it when other authors do it) is "inaccurate world building and logic." I get genuinely irritated at myself. It's why when it comes to fandom characters, I make sure it's as accurate as a Yandere character can get. Same goes with anything world building. I like worlds that still have systems and logic involved, even in fantasy settings. And, by default, this also includes, controversies and taboos. Yeah, I talk a lot in these notes. But, honestly? Considering how fast you long form readers go through my work. Might as well chat, since I hardly talk anyway. And, if you read these notes. Thank you. :)) Also, I was supposed to put the NSFW until I realized it was reaching 13k+ words already...

The first thing you felt was pain.

It wasn’t the kind that built slowly, easing its way into your senses—it was sharp, sudden, and all-consuming. A brutal yank at your scalp wrenched you out of the fragile limbo between consciousness and exhaustion. Your head snapped back, the roots of your hair screaming as you were dragged from the mattress by an iron grip.

You hit the floor hard, the side of your head smacking against the cold tile. The sting of impact shot through your temple, and for a moment, everything blurred—the light filtering through the curtains, the outline of the woman looming above you.

Your mother.

Her face was twisted in rage, but there was something worse in her eyes—a hunger, a satisfaction in your helplessness.

The door clicked shut behind her, sealing the soundproof room in its suffocating silence.

“You really thought you could hide from me?” Her voice was a low, venomous hiss, the kind of quiet that always preceded something worse. “You think I wouldn’t find you, huh? After everything I’ve done for you?”

You stumbled back, your body already trembling with an instinctive fear that seized your lungs and made it impossible to breathe.

“I—I wasn’t hiding—”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Her hand shot out, grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward so violently your head snapped back. Her face was so close to yours you could smell the acrid stench of cigarettes on her breath, could see the bloodshot fury in her eyes.

“You haven’t come home in weeks,” she snarled, her voice trembling with rage. “You think you can just disappear? Just run away? I had to come all the way to this shithole because of you. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is for me?”

She threw you down, and your back slammed into the edge of your desk. Pain radiated up your spine, sharp and paralyzing, but before you could catch your breath, her hand was on you again—this time in your hair, wrenching your head back so hard it felt like your scalp was on fire.

“Answer me, you little leech!” she screamed, shaking you violently. “Do you think I enjoy cleaning up your messes? Huh? Do you think I like chasing you down?”

She yanked you upward by your hair again, dragging you to your knees. Your scalp burned, and a whimper escaped your lips before you could swallow it down.

You whimpered, trying to pull away, but she yanked harder, the tendons in your neck straining painfully as you choked on a sob.

“I don’t have the money,” you gasped, the words spilling out in desperation. “I promise, I—”

The slap came so fast you didn’t even see it, just felt the explosive pain as her palm connected with your cheek. Your head whipped to the side, and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth.

“Of course you don’t have the money,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’ve been too busy playing house here, haven’t you? Hiding away like a pathetic little coward, thinking I wouldn’t notice.”

Her hand released your hair, only to shove you backward. You hit the wall hard, the impact rattling your teeth, and before you could even think about moving, she was on you again.

“Please,” you choked out, your voice hoarse from the lack of sleep. “I—I’ll get the money. I just need more time—”

Another slap came fast, cracking across your cheek with enough force to whip your head to the side. The metallic tang of blood bloomed on your tongue, and your skin prickled with the sting of her hand.

“Time?” she barked, her laugh sharp and bitter. “Time doesn’t pay the fucking bills. Time doesn’t keep a roof over your head, you little parasite!”

Her words struck harder than the blow, each one carefully crafted to cut where it hurt most. You weren’t her child. You weren’t even a person in her eyes. Just a burden. A mistake.

She shoved you backward, and you scrambled to catch yourself, your palms scraping against the rough tile. The small, cramped dorm room felt even smaller, the walls closing in as her shadow loomed over you.

“I raised you,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “I fed you. Clothed you. And this is how you repay me? By acting like a selfish little bitch? By keeping what’s mine?”

Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. Crying would only make it worse.

“I don’t have it,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I promise, I’ll—”

Her foot connected with your side, and pain exploded in your ribs. You crumpled, clutching your stomach as she kicked you again and again, each blow punctuated by her snarling words.

“You don’t have it? You don’t have it?” she repeated, mocking your desperate tone. “Then what the hell have you been doing all this time? Lying around, feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I had to come all the way here,” she hissed, dragging you across the room and throwing you onto the bed. The back of your head slammed into the wall, and your vision blurred. “Because you’re too much of a coward to face me like a damn adult!”

You tried to sit up, but she was faster, straddling your chest and pinning your arms down with her knees. Her fingers closed around your throat, nails biting into your skin.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is?” she spat, leaning in so close that her spit flecked your face. “Do you know how humiliating it is to have to track down my own child like some fucking runaway dog?”

Your airways constricted, panic surging through you as you choked, your nails scrabbling uselessly at her hands. Her grip was too strong, her weight crushing the breath from your lungs.

Tears streamed down your face, and the corners of your vision darkened.

She released you suddenly, and you gasped, coughing violently as your lungs screamed for air. Before you could recover, she slapped you across the face again—once, twice, three times. Each strike was sharp and deliberate, her rings tearing into your skin.

“You’ve been hiding at this university,” she said, her voice cold and measured now, as if she were recounting a list of your crimes. “Pretending you’re some poor little victim. Do you think anyone here gives a shit about you except me?”

Her hand closed around your arm, nails digging into the soft flesh as she yanked you off the bed and threw you to the floor. You landed hard on your knees, pain shooting up your legs.

“Answer me!” she screamed, her booted foot colliding with your ribs.

The impact sent you sprawling, the air rushing from your lungs. You tried to crawl away, but her foot came down on your back, pressing you into the cold tile.

“You think you’re so clever,” she continued, her voice rising. “Hiding here, avoiding your responsibilities, avoiding me. But I know you, baby. I know every little secret, every little lie.”

She grabbed the back of your head, slamming your face into the floor. Blood spattered across the tile, warm and sticky as it seeped from your nose and split lip.

“You owe me,” she hissed, crouching beside you and grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at her. Her nails dug into your cheeks, her breath hot and foul against your skin.

“Do you understand?” she said, shaking you violently. “You owe me. I don’t care if you have to steal, cheat, or whore yourself out—you will get me that money. Do you hear me?”

Your voice cracked as you sobbed, nodding frantically. “Y-Yes—”

The next slap sent your head snapping to the side.

“Louder,” she demanded.

“Yes!” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’ll do it! I’ll get the money!”

———

The hand in your hair yanked with ferocious strength, pulling at your scalp until the roots screamed in agony. Your head snapped back, the sharp crack of vertebrae forced into an unnatural angle resonating in your ears. Before you could cry out, a fist collided with your cheekbone, the impact sending shockwaves through your skull. Your vision blurred with stars, and the coppery tang of blood filled your mouth as your lip split open.

Her voice was low and cold, slicing through the air like a blade. “You thought you could hide from me, didn’t you?” A sharp tug on your hair wrenched a pained gasp from your throat. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me?”

You tried to stammer out a response, but her fist collided with your cheek, the force sending you sprawling. “Shut up!” she hissed, towering over your trembling form. “Do you think I’m stupid? Running off to your little school, acting like you’re too good to come home.”

Your body was dragged across the floor like a rag doll, the rough texture of the tile scraping the skin from your knees and elbows. A boot slammed into your stomach with brutal force, driving the air from your lungs. The sensation was hollow, a sickening vacuum where breath should have been, your diaphragm spasming as you choked on nothing.

A boot slammed into your ribs, the sickening crunch of bone making your breath hitch. “You don’t even deserve this education. What have you done to earn it? Nothing!” Another kick landed against your stomach, and you doubled over, clutching yourself as the air left your lungs.

“Do you know what I’ve sacrificed for you?” Her voice rose, venom dripping from every word. “All the things I could’ve had if it weren’t for you? And you have the nerve to ignore me, to avoid your responsibilities?”

Before you could even attempt to rise, another kick landed squarely against your ribs, the crack unmistakable this time. A sharp, jagged pain bloomed in your chest, each shallow gasp of air accompanied by the fiery agony of bone grinding against bone. You curled in on yourself instinctively, arms shielding your head, but it offered no protection.

A hard-soled shoe came down against your forearm, the force bending it at an unnatural angle. A white-hot flash of pain exploded in your vision, your own muffled scream echoing in your ears as the limb gave way. You clutched it to your chest, trembling, only to feel fingers clawing at your shoulders, wrenching you upright.

You whimpered, curling into yourself, but she wasn’t done. She grabbed your arm, twisting it cruelly as you yelped in pain. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She dragged you upright, slamming you against the wall. Your head hit the plaster with a dull thud. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t know about the money you owe me? About the favors you’re dodging?”

Her nails dug into your shoulders as she leaned in, her breath hot and acrid against your face. “I should’ve left you to rot,” she snarled. “Ungrateful little bitch.”

The shove against the wall was unrelenting, the back of your skull slamming into the unforgiving surface with enough force to make the plaster crack behind you. Your head swam, the room spinning violently as nausea roiled in your stomach. Her nails raked down your arm, leaving red welts in their wake, and the dull thud of another punch to your abdomen left your knees buckling beneath you.

She didn’t let you fall.

Your body was dragged upright again, only to be shoved forward. You crashed onto the floor, your face bouncing off the tiles. The sharp edge of your jaw hit first, sending another sharp stab of pain radiating through your skull. You tasted more blood, hot and metallic, as it spilled from your mouth, pooling beneath your chin.

You flinched as she slapped you across the face, the sting blooming into a sharp, fiery pain. “Do you think the world cares about you? Do you think anyone at that school will protect you when I’m done?”

You tried to pull away, desperation overtaking your fear. “Please, I—”

“Please?” She mocked your voice with a cruel sneer. “Please, please, please,” she repeated, punctuating each word with a punch to your side. “That’s all you ever do. Begging like a worthless rat.”

She pressed you to the ground, her foot pressing into the small of your back. “Get up,” she spat. When you didn’t move fast enough, she grabbed your hair again, yanking you upright. “I said get up!”

You sobbed, choking on the blood pooling in your mouth. “I’ll get the money, I promise. Just give me time—”

“Time?” she interrupted, laughing bitterly. “Time is for people who deserve it. You think you’re entitled to my patience?” She slammed your head down against the floor, the impact making you see stars. “You’re nothing but a burden. And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

A foot pressed onto the small of your back, grinding down with her full weight. The force flattened you against the floor, your bruised ribs screaming in protest as you struggled for breath. The heel twisted, grinding into your flesh, and you bit down on your own lip to keep from screaming, the already tender flesh splitting further.

Your good arm instinctively reached out to crawl, but she stepped on your hand with calculated precision, the heel of her shoe crushing your knuckles into the hard tile. The popping sensation was sickening, each joint folding under the pressure, and the pain was enough to make your vision go black for a moment.

Her grip returned to your hair, yanking your head up and slamming it down once more. The impact jarred your entire body, the sound of your skull cracking against the floor echoing in the small room. Blood smeared the surface where your face had been, a sickening trail that blurred with your tears.

There was no reprieve. No pause between strikes. Each hit, each blow, felt calculated—designed to hurt, to maim, to leave a mark that would ache for days, weeks. Your body was a canvas for her violence, every bruise and laceration a testament to her fury.

The world faded in and out, each moment marked by a new wave of pain. When her hands finally released you, your body crumpled onto the cold, blood-slick tiles. Every breath was a struggle, every twitch of your limbs a reminder of the damage inflicted.

The room was silent now, save for the ragged sound of your own breathing and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor.

———

After a while, the barrage stopped, and you dared to glance up, only to find her crouched in front of you. Her face was close—too close—and her breath reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

Her voice softened suddenly, a terrifying shift that sent chills down your spine. “You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you out yet,” she murmured, crouching down to meet your tearful gaze. “But keep this up, and you’ll find yourself with nowhere to go. Understand?”

You nodded weakly, trembling beneath her cold, predatory stare. She patted your cheek almost mockingly, smearing your blood across your face. “Good girl,” she said, her tone dripping with malice. “Now clean this mess up. I don’t want to see a single drop of blood when I get back.”

Her voice mellowed, sickly sweet, as she reached out to cup your bruised cheek.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, her tone dripping with soft tenderness. “You know I don’t want to hurt you. But you make me do this. You make me.”

You flinched as her thumb brushed over your split lip, and her smile widened.

“Don’t cry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me feel bad, okay? You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? You’ll fix this. You’ll find a way to make it right.”

Her other hand clamped down on your shoulder, nails biting into your skin.

“You will, won’t you?” she pressed, her voice hardening just enough to make it clear that this wasn’t a question.

You nodded, the motion jerky and desperate. Anything to make it stop.

Her smile returned, and she stood, brushing her hands off as if you were nothing more than dirt she’d stepped in.

“That’s my girl,” she said, turning toward the door. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

She didn’t slam the door when she left. She didn’t have to. The sound of her calm, measured footsteps receding down the hall was worse than any explosion of anger. It meant she was satisfied—for now.

You lay there on the floor, the silence in the room broken only by your ragged breathing. Your body ached, your chest heaving as you struggled to hold back the sobs clawing their way up your throat.

The phone on your desk buzzed once, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet. You didn’t need to look to know it was another message. Probably him. The bully. Or maybe someone else who wanted to mess with you.

It didn’t matter.

You were the weak link, and everyone knew it.

────────────

The lie came easily—too easily. It dripped from your lips like oil, slick and poisonous, just like the makeup covering your face, as you stared at Domo’s face on the screen. “She’s been gone for so long, you know? And she just… wants to spend time with me.” You hated yourself for the waver in your voice, the hesitance that made it sound true. Domo smiled, her usual warmth softening her features. “Of course. Family comes first. We can always reschedule.”

Her kindness twisted the knife in your chest, but you nodded anyway. “Thanks. I’ll text you.” And then you ended the call before you could hear more, before her care could claw any deeper into the fragile parts of you that you were barely holding together.

The truth? There was no family bonding. No heartfelt reunion. Just you, sitting alone in your dorm as the hours stretched long and suffocating. You stared at the laptop glowing before you, the dim blue light washing over your battered face. The bruises on your cheek and ribs throbbed in unison with your pulse, each beat a reminder of what waited if you didn’t produce the money fast enough.

You clenched your teeth, flexing your fingers before placing them on the keyboard. This was the part of yourself you never wanted anyone to see. The part you shoved into the shadows because it didn’t fit the quiet, awkward nothingness that defined you.

But it was the only thing you had.

The screen filled with lines of code, flashing in rapid succession as your fingers moved. You had always been good at this—too good. The exhilaration of bending firewalls to your will, of slipping through systems unnoticed, had once been a guilty thrill. Now, it was a survival mechanism.

You rationalized it as you worked, forcing the bile down in your throat. It’s not like I’m hurting anyone. This isn’t stealing. It’s… repurposing. The rationalizations tumbled over themselves like dominoes, each lie shoring up the fragile structure of your conscience. You weren’t hacking major accounts or wiping people out. Just skimming from places that wouldn’t notice a few hundred dollars gone. Universities, minor corporate accounts, underused funds in bloated systems.

The screen flickered, the transfer confirmed. You leaned back, chest heaving as though you’d run a marathon. Two hundred dollars here, fifty there. It wasn’t much, but it would add up. It had to.

You glanced at the clock: 3:42 a.m. Only a few more hours until she comes back. The thought sent a fresh spike of panic through you, and you dove back in. Another account. Another breach. Every keystroke felt like a confession, a sin piling atop an already crumbling foundation.

This wasn’t the first time you’d done it. The bruises lining your arms and the faint scar under your lip reminded you of how long this had been your reality. She leaves. You buy time. She comes back. You pay her off. A cycle that never ended, no matter how desperately you wished it would.

When the hacking was done, you stared at the balances displayed on the screen. Enough. For now. Your head thudded against the back of the chair, exhaustion wrapping around you like chains. The room was cold, empty, suffocating in its silence. You wanted to cry, to scream, to do anything to break the hollow ache gnawing at your chest.

But instead, you pushed yourself up, ignoring the sharp pain radiating from your side. You shuffled to the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peer out into the quiet campus. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows across the pavement, and for a moment, you swore you saw movement. A flicker of something—someone—watching.

You yanked the curtain shut, heart pounding in your chest. Just your imagination. Nothing’s there. You repeated the words like a mantra, though the uneasy weight of a presence lingered, settling into the corners of your mind.

When morning came, you’d transfer the money to her. When she left, you’d breathe again—for a little while. But tonight, you had no time to think about Domo, or bullies, or the terrifying fragility of the life you’d cobbled together.

Tonight, survival was all that mattered.

────────────

The air in the dorm room felt heavier, as if the walls themselves anticipated her arrival. You’d barely slept, the dark circles under your eyes deep enough to make your hollow face look corpse-like. The money was ready, stacked in an envelope on the small table near the door. A meager offering to stave off her wrath.

It’s enough this time, isn’t it? It has to be.

When the knock came, sharp and deliberate, your stomach twisted into knots. The sound echoed through your chest, each rap like a nail driven into your ribcage. You didn’t hesitate. Hesitation would only make things worse.

Opening the door, you saw her—your mother, standing tall in the hallway, her tailored coat spotless, her hair perfectly styled. She looked out of place in the dingy dormitory, like a predator descending on prey. Her painted lips curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It never did.

“Sweetheart,” she greeted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The smell of her expensive perfume suffocated the room. “I was wondering if you’d forgotten about me. You’re cutting it close this time.”

“I-I have it,” you stammered, pointing to the envelope. She clicked her tongue, her heels sharp against the floor as she approached the table.

Picking up the envelope, she weighed it in her hand like a predator inspecting its meal. “All of it?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

“Yes. I promise.”

Her nails were painted crimson, as though dipped in fresh blood, and they grazed the edge of the envelope as she opened it. Her eyes scanned the money, the movements slow and deliberate. “Hmm. This isn’t as much as I expected.”

“It’s everything I could—”

The slap came so fast, so sudden, you barely registered the sting on your cheek until you were stumbling back, your head snapping to the side. Her handprint burned into your skin, but you didn’t dare cry out.

Her voice was cold, the venom behind it more terrifying than her strike. “You think this is enough? Do you think I go through all this trouble for crumbs?”

“I—I can get more!” you blurted, your chest heaving as panic clawed at your throat. “Just give me a little more time!”

She closed the envelope, tucking it into her purse with an air of calm so calculated it made your blood run cold. Then, without warning, her hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You screamed, but the sound barely escaped before she yanked you down, dragging you toward the center of the room. Pain exploded across your scalp, blinding and raw.

“Do you think I have time for your excuses?” she hissed, her grip tightening. “You’ve always been pathetic. Always needing someone to clean up your messes.”

Her knee collided with your stomach, and the air rushed from your lungs in a broken wheeze. She released your hair, letting you crumple to the floor like a discarded rag doll.

“I should’ve known you’d be useless.” Her voice was low, deliberate, and each word sliced through you like a scalpel. “It’s embarrassing, really. How you can’t even manage something as simple as this.”

You tried to push yourself up, but her foot slammed down on your back, forcing you flat against the floor. “Stay down,” she ordered. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. Crying would only make it worse.

“Do you know how humiliating it is for me to come here?” she continued, pressing harder until your ribs screamed in protest. “To see the pathetic little hole you’ve buried yourself in? You’re lucky I even bother with you.”

She released you, and you gasped, curling into yourself on the cold floor. Her heels clicked as she walked to the door, her purse swinging at her side.

“Don’t make me come back for this again,” she warned, her tone sickeningly sweet once more. “You wouldn’t like what happens if I do.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. You didn’t move for a long time, your body trembling with the aftermath of pain and fear. The room was dark now, the only light coming from the faint glow of your laptop.

You stared at it, the temptation gnawing at the edges of your mind.

Just one more time. I’ll take a little more. I’ll make it back somehow.

It was the only way to survive.

────────────

The room was dimly lit by the pale glow of your computer screen, the soft hum of the CPU your only companion through the relentless hours. Your fingers ached, stiff from the endless tapping and coding, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins kept you moving. You’d done it. After days of sleepless nights, tense calculations, and hacking sessions that pushed the boundaries of legality, the number on the screen made your chest swell with something foreign: triumph.

It was the largest sum you’d ever seen in your life. Enough to keep your mother at bay for a long time, maybe even the rest of the year if you played it smart.

You leaned back in your chair, your head lolling against the worn cushion. Exhaustion clawed at you, but a smile—real, genuine—curved your lips. For once, there was no immediate shadow of fear, no sharp pang of dread in your stomach. You felt... safe.

Your gaze drifted to the photo frame sitting on the cluttered desk, the only piece of decoration in your otherwise bleak dorm. It was your high school graduation photo. Your father, with his immaculate suit and confident smile, stood tall beside your mother, who clung to his arm, her makeup flawless, her pride radiating through the glass. And there you were, sandwiched between them, holding your diploma with trembling hands.

Back then, you thought things would stay like that forever. A perfect picture. A perfect family.

Your smile faltered as your eyes lingered on your mother’s face in the photo. She looked happy then—truly happy. Not the brittle, strained version of her that had emerged after your father’s departure. The moment he left, everything broke.

You closed your eyes, memories creeping in like unwelcome guests. The screaming matches, the shattered glass, her tear-streaked face twisted in anguish as she begged him to stay. And then the silence, the unbearable silence that followed his departure, her love curdling into something sharp and possessive, clinging to you like a drowning woman to a lifeline.

“She only has me,” you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling in the quiet room. The words felt like a mantra, a justification for everything you endured. “She needs me.”

The screen in front of you flickered as you finalized the transfer. The money was secure, broken into portions just as you’d planned. You wouldn’t give it to her all at once—that would only end in disaster. No, you’d ration it out, let it trickle through her fingers slowly. Enough to keep her satisfied, to keep her from asking questions, from demanding more.

A wave of relief washed over you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were ahead of the game. You could breathe.

The thought of handing over the first envelope filled you with a strange kind of hope. Maybe this time, she’d smile like she did in the photo. Maybe she’d thank you, even hug you. Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.

You stood, stretching your aching limbs, and crossed the room to the mirror. Your reflection stared back, hollow-eyed and pale, but there was a spark of pride in your gaze. You’d done something good—for her, for yourself. It wasn’t legal, no, but it was necessary.

Your fingers brushed against the photo frame as you returned to the desk, the cold glass grounding you. No matter how much she hurt you, no matter how much fear she instilled, you still loved her. She was your mother.

And you’d do anything to keep her happy.

———

The knock on the door was soft, almost tentative, but it still sent a jolt of adrenaline through your system. You clutched the envelope tightly in your hand, its weight heavier than the sum it carried. This was it. You smoothed your hair, tried to compose yourself, and opened the door.

She stood there, a vision of maternal grace, her sharp edges carefully filed away. Her lips curled into a warm smile, one that lit her face in a way you hadn’t seen in years. For a moment, she looked just like the mother in the graduation photo—loving, proud, whole.

“There you are, sweetheart,” she said, stepping inside and brushing a hand over your hair. Her touch was light, affectionate, as if the hands that had dragged you out of bed days ago had never known violence.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Hi, Mom.”

Her eyes flicked to the envelope in your hand, but she didn’t reach for it. Not yet. Instead, she guided you to the small couch in your dorm room and sat down beside you, her perfume a familiar cloud of roses and nostalgia.

“You’ve been working so hard,” she said, her voice tender. “I’ve been so worried about you. You look tired, baby.” Her hand cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against the dark circles under your eyes. “Have you been eating enough? Sleeping?”

You nodded, unsure of what else to do. The words caught in your throat, tangled in the weight of her presence.

“I brought your favorite,” she said, producing a neatly packed box from her bag. Inside were homemade cookies, perfectly golden, still warm as if she’d baked them just for you. She broke one in half and held it to your lips, her eyes soft with an affection that made your chest ache. “Here, eat. You need your strength.”

You bit into the cookie, its sweetness almost overwhelming. She watched you with such intensity, as though every crumb you swallowed was a testament to your gratitude, your obedience.

Finally, you held out the envelope. “I—uh—I managed to save some money,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “For you.”

Her eyes widened, shimmering with what looked like genuine pride. She took the envelope delicately, as though it were a fragile gift. Opening it, she flipped through the bills, her expression melting into something softer, more radiant.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” she breathed, pulling you into a sudden, crushing hug. “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

Her words were honeyed, dripping with adoration, and yet they stung. You closed your eyes, leaning into her embrace, the warmth of her body erasing the bruises she’d left days before.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmured, her hand stroking your hair. “You’re all I have, you know that? Just you and me against the world.”

Her grip tightened, just for a moment, but then she pulled back, holding your face in her hands. “Promise me you’ll always take care of yourself, for me. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

The tears in her eyes looked so real, so heartbreakingly sincere, that for a moment, you believed her. You wanted to believe her.

“I promise,” you said, the words feeling like a chain coiling tighter around your chest.

“Good girl.” She kissed your forehead, a gesture so tender it left you dizzy. “I love you, you know that?”

You nodded, your throat burning with unspoken words.

The rest of the evening passed in a surreal haze of domestic bliss. She stayed for hours, tidying your dorm, chatting about mundane things, laughing at old memories as though nothing had ever been wrong. It felt like stepping back in time, to when your world was still intact, when her love wasn’t a weapon but a shield.

And yet, beneath the surface, something gnawed at you. A shadow of doubt, a whisper of fear. Because you knew—deep down—that this wasn’t love. It was something darker, something that wrapped itself around your heart and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe.

But for tonight, you let it happen. You let her smile and laugh and hold you close. You let yourself believe, just for a little while, that everything could be okay.

———

The sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air, a biting reminder of the wounds she was carefully tending. Her touch was impossibly gentle, almost reverent, as though the same hands hadn’t carved those injuries into your skin just hours ago. She hummed softly, a melody you vaguely recognized from childhood, her voice smooth and warm like a lullaby meant to soothe your fears.

“Hold still, sweetheart,” she murmured, her fingers brushing your cheek as she dabbed at a cut near your temple. “This might sting a little.”

It did. The pain flared, bright and hot, but her other hand stroked your hair, grounding you in the surreal tenderness of the moment.

“You’ve always been so brave,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a depth of sincerity that made your stomach churn. “Taking everything life throws at you with your head held high. I don’t know how you do it, baby.”

Her smile was soft, motherly, and the juxtaposition of her words against the still-healing bruises on your arms made your throat tighten.

She leaned closer, inspecting her work, her breath warm against your skin. “There. Good as new,” she said, sitting back with a satisfied sigh. Her hand lingered on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You really scared me, you know. You’ve been so distant lately.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse and small.

She tilted her head, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated concern. “Oh, sweetheart, no. You don’t need to apologize. You’ve just… been through so much, haven’t you?” Her hand moved to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin with an intimacy that felt suffocating.

“I’ve been so hard on you,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly as though she might cry. “I hate seeing you like this, so beaten down. You deserve so much better.”

Your chest tightened, a knot of confusion and unease tangling with the faint, desperate hope that this time—this time—she meant it.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my baby, my whole world. I just want to see you happy.”

She stood and moved to the kitchen, her movements fluid, almost cheerful. “You must be starving,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll make your favorite. Just sit there and relax, okay? You need to rest.”

Her back was to you now, and for a moment, you could almost pretend this was normal. The hum of the stove, the faint sizzle as she prepared the food—it all felt so mundane, so safe.

But the memory of her voice—razor-sharp and dripping with venom—echoed in the back of your mind.

"Don’t make me come back here for nothing, you useless little brat."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thought. She was different now. She was kind. Loving. She hadn’t been like this in years, not since before everything fell apart.

The meal she placed before you was perfect, a careful recreation of a childhood favorite. She watched you with expectant eyes as you took the first bite, her smile widening when you nodded in approval.

“See? Mommy knows what you need,” she said, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your knee. “We’ll be okay, won’t we? As long as we have each other.”

You forced a smile, the words catching in your throat.

The warmth of her affection was almost worse than her anger. It wrapped around you like a blanket, smothering you under the weight of its expectations. But you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t risk breaking this fragile illusion, not when the alternative was so much worse.

So you nodded, swallowing down the fear and confusion and guilt. “Yeah. We’ll be okay.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment, you could almost believe it.

────────────

The halls were quiet, the chaotic din of the usual school day replaced by an unusual calm. It was as though the entire campus had been wrapped in a fragile layer of peace, everyone too preoccupied with the looming end-of-year celebrations to pay you any mind. You walked alone, the fluorescent lights overhead flickering faintly, your shadow stretching and shrinking against the scuffed linoleum floor.

For the first time in what felt like ages, your chest felt lighter. The suffocating weight of constant vigilance had lifted, even if only for a moment. Domo was away, too busy with her responsibilities to hover protectively over you, but her absence didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like freedom.

You passed clusters of students bustling about, their faces flushed with excitement and stress as they carried props and decorations for the Christmas program. No one spared you a glance, not even the cliques that usually whispered behind your back or the bullies who made a sport of finding new ways to humiliate you. They were too wrapped up in their own lives, their own dramas.

The solitude was soothing.

Your lips curled into a faint smile as you stepped out into the courtyard. The winter air was crisp, biting gently at your cheeks and nose. The skeletal trees stood silent, their barren branches reaching towards the pale gray sky. You sat on one of the cold metal benches, pulling your coat tighter around you, and watched the world move on without you.

It was better this way.

The distant sound of carols drifted through the air, mingling with the faint chatter of students. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and soak it in—the peace, the simplicity. No shouting. No biting words. No stifling fear clawing at your throat.

For the first time in months, you felt something like happiness. At least for a while.

———

The air was crisp and still as you crept through the dimly lit campus grounds, the cold biting at your exposed skin. Every step felt heavier than the last, your stomach knotting tighter with each reluctant movement. The text from him sat unread but seared into your mind, its bluntness coiled around your thoughts like barbed wire: "My dorm. Tonight. Don’t make me wait."

It wasn’t the first time. His demands always came with the same suffocating inevitability, a choice between the humiliations he’d orchestrate and the unspeakable consequences of defying him.

You kept your head low, your heart pounding as you slipped into the shadows, avoiding the few lingering students rushing to finish end-of-year preparations. The warmth of the day had been fleeting—Domo’s absence notwithstanding. You’d almost dared to hope the universe might grant you a reprieve. But he’d reminded you, as always, that peace wasn’t for people like you.

His dorm building loomed ahead, its sharp, modern edges cutting against the pale moonlight. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the door, the sterile chill of the metal handle grounding you in the moment. Inside, the fluorescent lighting buzzed faintly, the hallways deserted and eerily quiet.

Room 312. You knew it by heart. You had never asked to learn this intimately, but circumstance—and his persistence—left you with little choice.

The door was ajar when you arrived, as though he’d been expecting you.

“Come in,” his voice called, low and casual, from somewhere inside. It grated against your nerves, setting off alarm bells in the recesses of your mind.

You stepped inside, the warmth of his room almost suffocating after the cold outside. He was seated at his desk, leaning back lazily in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed. His gaze met yours, sharp and assessing, and the faint smirk playing at his lips sent a chill down your spine.

“Right on time,” he drawled, gesturing for you to close the door. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

You said nothing, your throat dry as you complied.

The tension in the room was palpable as he stood, his movements unhurried, his towering presence swallowing the space between you. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he remarked, his tone light but laced with something darker. “Almost like you thought you could avoid me.”

“I wasn’t—” you began, your voice shaky, but he silenced you with a sharp laugh.

“Save it,” he said, stepping closer until you could feel the oppressive heat radiating off him. “I don’t care what excuses you’ve been telling yourself. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

His hand shot out, gripping your chin with bruising force as he tilted your face upward. His expression was unreadable, his eyes scanning you like you were something to be dissected. “You look happy,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “What’s got you in such a good mood, huh?”

The question was rhetorical, his fingers tightening painfully as he leaned in closer. “You know,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against your cheek, “I don’t like it when you forget your place.”

You swallowed hard, the fear clawing its way up your throat as his grip shifted to your shoulder, shoving you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Sit,” he commanded, and you obeyed, your limbs stiff and trembling.

He loomed over you, his shadow stretching long and menacing under the harsh light. “We’re going to play a little game,” he said, a cruel glint in his eyes. “You’re going to listen very carefully, and if you’re good—well, let’s see if you remember what happens when you’re not.”

The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around your neck. You didn’t dare look away, didn’t dare breathe too loudly, as his gaze pinned you in place.

And just like that, the fleeting warmth of the day was gone, replaced by the cold, unyielding reality you couldn’t escape.

———

He leaned against the desk in his dorm, his expression dripping with smug satisfaction, as if he had already won a game you didn’t even realize you were playing. His phone rested in his hand, the glow from the screen casting shadows on his face.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he began, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. His tone was light, almost amused, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. “All this time, I thought you were just pathetic. Turns out, you’re also a little criminal. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”

Your stomach dropped, your breath hitching as his words sank in. He chuckled darkly at your reaction, pushing off the desk and stepping closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he sneered, tilting his head as he studied your wide-eyed panic. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? That you could just go around doing… that and no one would notice?”

He held up his phone, the screen flashing with what could only be described as evidence—screenshots, transaction logs, even security footage. Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening rhythm that drowned out everything else.

“You’re so damn stupid,” he said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Leaving a digital trail like that? Rookie mistake. But I guess I shouldn’t expect too much from someone like you. After all, you’ve never been anything but a useless, desperate little nothing, right?”

The insult stung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. His grin widened at your silence, his enjoyment of your fear palpable.

“Let me spell it out for you,” he said, stepping even closer until you were forced to back up against the wall. “I’ve got everything I need to ruin you. Everything. Those little stunts you pulled to get your precious mommy her money? Yeah, I’ve got it all. And trust me, it’s enough to get you expelled, arrested… maybe even worse.”

You shook your head frantically, your voice trembling as you tried to protest. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, save it,” he snapped, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “I don’t give a shit about your sob story. You think anyone else will? You’re nothing, sweetheart. Just a sad little loser with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.”

The tears burned at the corners of your eyes, frustration from everything welling up as if ready to pour out; but you blinked them back, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. He noticed, of course, and his smirk turned cruel.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he mocked, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “You wouldn’t want Mommy Dearest to find out, would you? Imagine how disappointed she’d be. Or worse—imagine what she’d do if she found out her little cash cow has been hiding things from her.”

His words were a dagger to your chest, twisting with every syllable. He knew exactly where to strike, exactly how to exploit your deepest fears and vulnerabilities.

“But don’t worry,” he continued, his tone softening into something almost sweet. “I’m not a monster. I’m willing to keep this between us… for a price.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight. “W-What do you want?”

His grin widened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Oh, nothing too crazy,” he said, leaning in until his face was inches from yours. “Just a little obedience. A little gratitude. Maybe even a little fun. After all, we’ve got such a good thing going, don’t we?”

His hand reached up to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Or, you can try to run. Try to fight. But let’s be real—you don’t have the guts. You’ve never had the guts. So why don’t you just be a good little slave and play along? It’ll be so much easier for both of us.”

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His words wrapped around you like a noose, tightening with every passing second. There was no escape, no way out. He had you, and he knew it.

———

The air in the room felt oppressive, suffocating, as his words dripped into your ears like poison. His grin was wide, vicious, a predator toying with its prey, knowing there was no escape. He perched on the edge of the bed, his presence overwhelming even as he leaned in casually, as though you were equals in this twisted game.

“You really think she doesn’t know?” he murmured, his voice a low, mocking purr. His eyes glittered with malice, reflecting your panic like a mirror. “Domo. Your precious, perfect Domo. She’s not stupid, you know. I mean, come on, you’ve been sloppy, haven’t you? Or did you think you could actually hide all this?”

You flinched at his words, the knot of anxiety in your chest tightening. You had been careful. Meticulous, even. But now, doubt began to claw its way into your mind. His smirk widened at the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

“That’s the thing about people like her,” he continued, his tone almost conversational. “She’s got this shiny, righteous exterior. Strong sense of justice, doesn’t she? Loves tearing people like you apart. The frauds, the liars, the criminals. Do you even know what she’d do if she found out?”

Your stomach churned. You’d seen it yourself—how Domo could rip someone’s reputation to shreds with a single exposé, how her ruthless sense of morality left no room for gray areas. And you, with your secrets, your crimes…

────────────

The first time you saw Domo’s sense of justice in action, it left a deep impression—one that you didn’t know whether to admire or fear. It was a cold, rainy afternoon, the kind where the sky seemed to weep with an intensity that felt personal. Most students had already gone home, but you stayed late in the library, hunched over a stack of outdated textbooks you couldn’t afford to replace.

That was when you heard it—low, vicious laughter echoing from the stairwell. Curious, you crept closer, peeking from behind a bookshelf.

There she was. Domo.

And in front of her, trembling like a trapped animal, was a senior. He was taller, broader, someone who carried himself like he owned the place—until that moment. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a look of sheer panic.

“I didn’t mean for it to go that far!” he stammered, his hands raised as if to shield himself from her words. “I was just messing around—”

“Messing around?” Domo’s voice was calm, almost too calm. It carried no heat, no anger, only an icy precision that made your blood run cold. “So stealing exam papers and selling them to desperate students counts as ‘messing around’ now?”

She took a step closer, her shadow looming over him despite her slightly smaller frame. The rain continued to pour outside, its rhythm punctuating her words.

“I have the screenshots, the emails, the recordings. Every lie you told, every bribe you took—it’s all here.” She held up her phone, her finger hovering over the screen. “It would only take one click for this to reach the dean’s office.”

The senior’s face paled. He stumbled backward, his bravado crumbling into a pitiful mess. “Please, Domo. Don’t ruin me. I’ll do anything—just don’t—”

“Ruin you?” she interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “You ruined yourself the moment you decided your greed was worth more than the futures of those you exploited.”

There was no room for argument in her tone, no opening for negotiation. She wasn’t cruel. She wasn’t emotional. She was just. And that made it worse.

When the senior finally broke down into sobs, begging on his knees, Domo didn’t gloat. She didn’t smile. She simply pressed send.

You didn’t need to stick around to know what happened next. The senior was expelled within a week, his disgrace plastered across every whispering clique in the halls.

———

Another time, you saw her in action during a group project. It was supposed to be simple—divide the workload evenly, finish on time, get a decent grade. But one of your teammates, a quiet girl with a perpetually nervous expression, confessed to Domo that someone had been stealing her ideas and presenting them as his own in front of the professor.

Domo didn’t hesitate.

She called the guy out during the next class, her voice ringing clear across the room. “I think it’s only fair to credit the person who actually did the work, don’t you?”

The guy laughed nervously, brushing her off. “What are you talking about, Domo? We all worked on it together.”

“Really?” she said, tilting her head slightly. Her eyes glittered like shards of broken glass. “Because I have the timestamps on her drafts and the plagiarism report showing your presentation is word-for-word identical. Care to explain how that’s a coincidence?”

The classroom went silent. The professor frowned, leaning forward in his chair.

“Domo, I—” the guy started, but she cut him off with a single, raised hand.

“I don’t want your excuses,” she said firmly. “I want you to admit what you did, apologize to her, and redo the work properly. Or we can take this up with the academic board. Your choice.”

You could almost hear the sound of his pride shattering. He mumbled something that vaguely resembled an apology, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and spent the rest of the term walking on eggshells around her.

———

Domo’s sense of justice wasn’t loud or flashy. It didn’t rely on intimidation or physical strength. It was quiet, methodical, and utterly terrifying.

She didn’t give second chances. She didn’t forgive dishonesty.

And that was why you could never let her find out. Not about your hacking. Not about the money. Not about how you had initially planned to use her kindness for your own survival.

Because if she ever did…

She wouldn’t just hate you.

She’d destroy you.

────────────

“I mean, it’s almost funny,” he said, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Here you are, pretending to be this innocent little thing, latching onto her like a leech. But let’s be real—this friendship of yours? It’s built on lies. You used her.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “That’s not true. I—”

“Oh, but it is,” he cut you off, his tone sharp and biting. “You needed her, didn’t you? Not for who she is, but for what she could give you. Money. Protection. A shield to hide behind. You’re pathetic.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “I care about her,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Care about her? Don’t make me laugh. If you really cared, you’d have told her the truth by now. But you won’t, will you? Because deep down, you know she’d drop you in a heartbeat. She’d see you for what you really are—a selfish, manipulative little rat.”

The words hit like a slap, and you recoiled, your heart pounding. “I didn’t—”

“Save it,” he sneered, cutting you off again. “You think she’s going to believe you over me? I’ve got proof, sweetheart. I’ve seen what you do. All those late nights, the hacking, the money you’ve been funneling. You really thought you’d get away with it?”

You opened your mouth to protest, to deny, but he didn’t give you the chance. “Don’t bother,” he said, his tone softening to something almost tender. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to tell her… yet. But imagine how she’d look at you if I did. Imagine the betrayal in her eyes when she realizes her best friend is nothing but a criminal.”

His hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of affection. You flinched but didn’t pull away, too frozen by fear. “But I’m not the bad guy here,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m giving you a chance. A way out. All you have to do is listen to me. Do what I say. It’s not that hard, is it?”

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you tried to stand your ground. “I won’t let you manipulate me.”

His grin widened, his eyes dark with amusement. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need to manipulate you. I just have to tell the truth. And that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? You’ve already done all the hard work for me. All I have to do is hand her the evidence, and you’re done.”

His hand slid down to your wrist, his grip tightening just enough to make you wince. “So here’s the deal,” he said, his tone cold and commanding. “You’re going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. No questions, no hesitation. Because if you don’t…”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll make sure she knows everything. And when she does, she’ll hate you. She’ll destroy you. And I’ll be right here to watch.”

You shuddered, the weight of his words crushing down on you. He pulled back, his grin as smug as ever. “So, what’s it going to be?” he asked, his voice laced with mockery. “Are you going to be a good little girl and play along? Or do I need to make a few phone calls?”

The silence stretched between you, suffocating, as he waited for your answer. And in that moment, you realized there was no way out. Not without losing everything.

———

His lips crashed against yours again, rough and demanding, his fingers curling into the nape of your neck with enough pressure to make your scalp burn. You didn’t resist—not because you wanted this, but because resisting would only escalate things. His breath was hot and suffocating, his teeth grazing your lower lip as if to punish you for every shudder of disgust you couldn’t suppress.

Your mind spun in chaotic circles, desperately searching for an escape even as his body pressed you further into the mattress. His weight pinned you down, his hands wandering in a way that felt more like a claim than an embrace.

You closed your eyes, trying to block him out, but that only made your thoughts louder. They roared with a single name: Domo.

Domo, who would never forgive you. Domo, who could never know.

The thought of her was a knife in your chest, sharp and twisting. You didn’t fear her anger—you feared her disappointment. Domo wasn’t just a friend. She was the only light you had, the only one who ever made you feel like maybe you weren’t completely worthless. But Domo had a sense of justice as unforgiving as the universe itself.

You had seen her at her most ruthless. She wasn’t the type to scream or cry when betrayed. No, Domo dissected you with precision, unraveling every thread of your lies until you were nothing but a tangle of shame and regret. You had watched her dismantle people who thought they could outwit her, her sharp words leaving them gutted in ways they never recovered from.

If she found out about the hacking… the money…

Your stomach twisted. You’d seen it happen before. The way her eyes hardened, the way her voice turned cold, like steel slicing through flesh. Domo didn’t just destroy people—she erased them, made them into cautionary tales.

And she’d do the same to you.

But more than that, you’d lose her. She wouldn’t see the circumstances. She wouldn’t see your desperation, your mother, your empty dorm room filled with shadows. She’d only see the crime, the betrayal, the weakness.

The bully’s lips moved to your neck, and you bit your tongue to suppress a gasp. His hands slid lower, possessive and mocking, as if to remind you of the power he held over you.

“Thinking about her again, aren’t you?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and cruel. “Your precious Domo. Wondering what she’d say if she saw you like this.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Because the truth was, you couldn’t let her see. You couldn’t let her know how far you’d fallen, how much you’d compromised. If she knew—if she even suspected—she’d leave you.

And your mother…

The thought of her sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you. If Domo’s judgment was cold and calculated, your mother’s was visceral and brutal. She wouldn’t just be disappointed. She’d punish you, grind you down until there was nothing left. You’d seen it in her eyes, in the way her fingers curled into fists, in the way her voice dropped to a low, venomous growl when she was angry.

The money wasn’t just a lifeline—it was the leash she held you on. It was the only thing keeping her rage at bay.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re not even here, are you? Too busy thinking about how to keep all your little secrets.”

He kissed you again, his hands tightening their grip, and your mind screamed at you to focus. But all you could think about was Domo’s face—her sharp, piercing eyes, her unwavering sense of right and wrong.

And the cold, hard truth that if she ever knew the real you, she wouldn’t just walk away. She’d destroy you.

Just like he would.

“Go ahead,” he taunted, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His smirk was razor-sharp, his gaze dark with amusement. “Keep pretending you’re innocent. But we both know the truth, don’t we? You’re just as dirty as the rest of us. And the best part? No one’s going to save you.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t.

Because he was right.

———

Your head swam with the weight of his words, the dark intensity behind them burrowing under your skin like thorns. His breath was hot against your lips as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones with an almost tender care, a stark contrast to the bruises you knew he’d left on your body before. The room spun with his presence, suffocating, inescapable, and yet something in you was too tired to resist.

“You think anyone else could love you like this?” he whispered, his voice low and raw, each word an anchor pulling you deeper into his orbit. His lips found the corner of your mouth, teasing, brushing, and when you didn’t pull away, he took that as a surrender.

“I see you,” he murmured, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “The real you. The one who’s scared, pathetic, desperate. I see it, and I still love you for it. No one else does. Not Domo, not your mother, no one. They only see what you pretend to be.”

He kissed you hard then, his mouth consuming yours, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. The edge of his teeth scraped against your lower lip as he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes sharp and burning with something primal.

“It’s always been the two of us,” he growled, his voice thick with possession as he gripped your hips, grinding against you in slow, deliberate movements that left no room for misinterpretation. “Even when you ran to Domo, even when you tried to leave me behind, you always came back. You’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.”

Your chest tightened as his words drilled into you, his logic cutting through every feeble protest you might have had. No one else cared. Not like this. Not with this twisted, obsessive devotion that terrified you as much as it made you feel alive.

“You think Domo will stay if she finds out who you really are?” he sneered, his lips ghosting over your jawline before nipping at your ear. “She’ll throw you away like everyone else. But me?” His voice softened, his tone almost reverent. “I don’t care what you do. Cheat, lie, betray me—hell, run back to her if you want. I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here.”

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. Your lips pressed against his, hesitant, shy, but it was enough to spark something dangerous in him. He growled low in his throat, his hands tightening on you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, his movements aggressive but laced with a desperate kind of love.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your lips, his hands roaming, gripping, owning. “You’re starting to get it now, aren’t you? You’re mine. No one else gives a shit about you like I do. No one else knows you like I do. And no one else ever will.”

His words were a mantra, a binding spell, as he kissed you again, his love a suffocating force, overwhelming and inescapable. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t kind, but it was real in a way that twisted something deep inside you.

“You and me, baby,” he said, his voice a promise and a threat all at once. “Always.”

———

The hesitation lingered in your body, a faint tremor in your hands, a fleeting flicker in your gaze that he picked up on like a predator scenting blood. His grip on your waist tightened as his lips hovered over yours, smirking just slightly at the way you tensed under his touch.

“Still fighting me, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and rich with amusement, a dangerous edge beneath his tone. “You don’t have to say anything. I know that little head of yours is spinning, trying to figure out what to do. But we both know the truth, don’t we? You can’t afford to push me away.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, deliberate and suffocating, drawing out every second as if savoring his victory. “Not like this is new for us,” he whispered against your lips, his tone almost tender, like a lover’s. “You remember, don’t you? Or are you gonna pretend you don’t? It’s been a while, sure—probably because you’ve been too busy drooling over that bitch Domo. But this? This has always been us.”

The words landed like blows, each one calculated to chip away at your defenses. You stiffened at the mention of Domo, your mind spiraling into the familiar maze of fear and guilt. He laughed softly, sensing your weakness, and tilted your chin up so your eyes met his.

“There it is,” he said, his grin widening as his fingers brushed your cheek with mock tenderness. “That little look of guilt. You don’t want her to know, do you? Don’t want her to see the real you. The one who cheats and lies and does whatever it takes to survive. Guess what? I already know all of that, and I’m still here. Isn’t that funny?”

You stayed silent, your breath shaky as his hands roamed with purpose, drawing you closer, forcing you to feel every inch of his control. “She’d never forgive you,” he continued, his voice a soft hum of poison. “If she found out, she’d drop you like you were nothing. And your mom? Oh, let’s not even start on her.”

He chuckled, low and dark, the vibration of it sinking into your chest. “But me?” he murmured, brushing his lips against the corner of your mouth before stealing another kiss, this one deeper, hungrier. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what you are. I’ve always loved you for it. Your pathetic, broken little self is mine.”

You knew he was pushing you, pressing all the right buttons to ensure you bent to his will. Your mind screamed at you to resist, to fight, but the weight of everything he had over you—the photos, the proof, the cruel knowledge of your worst secrets—held you firmly in place.

“That’s right,” he whispered as you finally stopped resisting, your body going limp under his hold. He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, possessive and firm. “You’re getting it now. This is where you belong. With me. Submitting to me, just like you always have, just like you always will.”

He didn’t stop, even as your compliance became evident. Instead, he pressed harder, his kisses more demanding, his touch bolder, his words laced with a dangerous, almost intoxicating affection.

“I don’t just own your body,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands pulled you even closer. “I own your heart, your mind, your fucking soul. Domo doesn’t get that, and she never will. This? This is ours. Always has been.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight as the reality of his hold on you settled like chains around your chest.

Every word, every touch, every calculated smile of his reminded you of the truth—you were his, and fighting back only tightened his grip.

———

His hands moved with an infuriating blend of precision and fervor, peeling away layers of your clothing as if removing barriers to what he believed was already his. Each brush of his fingers was rough, each kiss an assault, his lips crushing against yours like he was trying to consume you entirely. He growled low in his throat, a predatory sound that sent a shiver of both fear and shameful heat down your spine.

"That’s it," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his pupils blown wide with a dangerous mix of lust and obsession. His breath fanned hot against your skin as his fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer. “My little masochist. You like this, don’t you? Pretending to fight me, pretending you have some kind of choice. But deep down, you love it. You love me.”

The words dripped with mockery, but underneath the venom, there was something softer—something that felt almost genuine in its twisted way. He leaned down, his teeth grazing your neck, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. “Yeah, that’s the sound I want. None of that quiet, boring little act you pull for everyone else. Show me what you really are, hmm? Weak, needy, desperate. Mine.”

Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch even as your mind screamed at you to pull away. He noticed, of course he noticed, and his smirk widened, his movements growing bolder. His hands roamed over you with a hunger that bordered on savage, but there was a calculated restraint in his grip, like he was savoring every moment of your submission.

“You know,” he whispered, his voice rough and husky as his fingers slipped beneath the last layer of fabric, “I could ruin you, completely destroy that pathetic little life of yours. But I don’t. You know why?” He kissed you hard, swallowing your unsteady breaths before pulling back just enough to whisper against your lips. “Because I love you. No one else gives a damn about you, not your saintly Domo, not even your precious mother. Just me.”

His movements grew rougher, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he pushed you back onto the bed. He hovered over you, his gaze dark and feral, his smirk curling into something more primal. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he said, his voice almost a growl as he pressed his body against yours. “Careless, weak, a complete mess. But you’re my mess. And no matter how much you screw up, no matter how much you betray me, I’m the one who’s always going to pick you up, fix you, keep you safe.”

Each word came with another bruising kiss, another searing touch that left you reeling. He whispered sweet poison into your ear, promises wrapped in degradation, affection laced with humiliation. “You’ll never find anyone else who loves you like this,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Who knows you like this. You’d be nothing without me, and you know it.”

His real personality was fully unleashed now—raw, unfiltered, and terrifyingly familiar. The mask of control slipped just enough to reveal the primal, obsessive hunger beneath. Every movement, every word, every calculated act was designed to remind you of one thing: he owned you. Body, mind, and soul.

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach

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prettyfilmz · 12 days ago

Text

BIG JIM • JIMMY USO

author's note: hey my loves! I hope you had a happy new year🥳 i come to you with big jim for the big 2025. this idea spurred from back at war games and after many rewrites and revisions, this beautiful work was born. I hope you enjoy as I work on chain reaction pt. 2!💗

synopsis: in which amara is the only one who knows the origin of 'big jim'.

warnings: 18+(MDNI), jimmy has a big dick ;) , black female!oc, dirty talk, hotel sex, praise kink, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, squirting, creampie, lots of kissing, pussy slaps, overstimulation, spanking, slight dacryphilia, pet names (mama, love, pretty girl baby girl, baby), daddy kink (subtle) , teasing, fluffy lovey dovey shit at the end.

word count: 2.6k words

Backstage at the Intuit Dome, the camera crew was in motion, chasing wrestlers for interviews and behind the scenes moments. Among the chaos, Jimmy leaned casually against a wall, dressed down in his merch and a fitted snapback, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

He wasn’t wrestling tonight, but his presence alone was enough to stir commotion. Everyone wanted to know the answer to one question, the same one that had been swirling for months.

“Jimmy, got a minute?” Cathy Kelley asked, stepping into frame with a mic. She was smiling brightly, but Jimmy could already tell where this was headed.

“Sure, what’s good uce?” Jimmy shrugged, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, first of all, congratulations on the momentum you’ve been building since you’ve returned. The fans love and missed you, and you’ve been killing it out there.”

“Always,” he replied smoothly, winking at the camera.

She laughed lightly. “But there’s something else everyone’s been talking about, and I have to ask: the nickname. Big Jim. Where did that come from? You’ve got the commentators using it, fans are chanting it—and yet, you never seem to explain the origin.”

Jimmy chuckled, the sound low and easy, as if he’d been expecting this all night. “Man, y’all don’t quit, huh?”

“Come on, Jimmy, the people need answers!” she teased, leaning in slightly. “Is it a reference to your presence in the ring? an inside joke?”

“Nah, nah,” Jimmy said, shaking his head with a grin. “See, that’s the thing. That’s between me, my girl, and God.”

The interviewer’s curiosity deepened. “Your girlfriend Amara? So, she gave you the name?”

Jimmy tilted his head, smirking knowingly. “Somethin’ like that. You wanna know what it’s about, you gotta ask her. But good luck with that, ‘cause she ain’t talkin’.”

The camera zoomed in on his face as he finished the sentence, the smugness radiating off him, and the interviewer gave a resigned laugh. “You’re killing us here, Jimmy.”

“Hey, I just play my role,” he said with a shrug, then leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping a little lower. “But trust me—she know exactly why it’s Big Jim.”

The interview ended, but the smirk didn’t leave Jimmy’s face as he walked away, hands in his pockets, and the sound of the fans chants ringing in his ears.

♡

Hours later, Jimmy strolled into the dimly lit hotel room he was sharing with Amara, his energy still vibrant from the night’s teasing. The second the door clicked shut behind him, he spotted her on the bed legs crossed, her curvy frame dressed in one of his t-shirts. It barely skimmed her thighs, leaving her soft, brown skin on full display. Her curls pulled into a cute pineapple bun, and her lips curled into a knowing smile when she looked up at him.

“Another interview about ‘Big Jim’, huh?” she asked, her tone amused.

Jimmy laughed, shaking his head as he tossed his snapback onto the dresser. “Man, I swear, these people don’t got nothin’ better to talk about but that.”

“Well, you love the attention, so don’t act brand new now,” she teased, watching as he peeled off his hoodie, revealing the tattoos that decorated across his chest and arms.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, stepping closer to the bed. His gaze darkened as it swept over her, lingering on the way the t-shirt stretched over her curves. “But you love it too, don’t you, mama?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile gave her away. “What I love is you keeping your mouth shut about why you call yourself that.”

Jimmy grinned, climbing onto the bed, his weight dipping the mattress as he crawled toward her. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s nobody’s business but ours,” she said firmly, though her breath hitched as he slid a hand up her thigh, his fingers brushing the bare skin beneath the shirt.

“That’s right,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, his lips soft but insistent against hers. “Ain’t nobody else gonna know what I’m packin’—‘cept for you, baby.”

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue sweeping past her lips as his hands roamed her body, squeezing her thighs, her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. His hard length was already straining against his sweats, and Amara couldn’t help but grind against him, her own arousal building with every touch.

“You feel that, pretty girl?” he whispered against her lips, his voice a low growl. “That’s why they call me Big Jim. You remember, don’t you?”

Amara whimpered softly, her hands gripping his shoulders as he pushed her onto her back, his weight pressing her into the mattress. “I couldn’t forget,” she murmured, her voice breathy.

Jimmy chuckled, kissing her again, slower this time, as his hands slipped under the hem of the shirt, dragging it up her body. “Good. ‘Cause I’m about to remind you, baby. You ready for that?”

Her answer was a needy kiss, her hands tugging at the waistband of his sweats, desperate to feel all of him. Jimmy took his time, though, stripping her down from her shirt to her skimpy panties, his lips and hands worshipping every inch of her as he went.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her naked body as she lay beneath him. “So fuckin’ pretty, mama. Every time I see you, I swear you get finer.”

“Jimmy...” she whimpered, her thighs squeezing together as his hands spread them apart again.

“Nah, don’t hide from me girl,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. “You know I love seein’ all of you.”

His lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before sucking gently, leaving marks that she knew she’d have to cover up the next day. But she didn’t care—not when his mouth kept moving lower, over her chest, her stomach, until he was between her thighs, his breath warm against her heated core.

Jimmy grinned up at her, his hands gripping her thighs as he kissed her inner thigh, biting softly before dragging his tongue over the spot. “You want Daddy to take care of you, baby girl?”

Her answer was a soft moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he spread her glistening lips open with his thumbs, his mouth descending on her swollen clit.

Jimmy’s tongue worked her like he had all the time in the world. He dragged it through her slick folds, savoring the taste of her, groaning against her pussy like he couldn’t get enough. Amara’s thighs trembled, her hands gripping his hair as he sucked her clit into his mouth, alternating between teasing licks and firm pressure.

“Jimmy... oh, my God,” she whimpered, her back arching off the mattress as his hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her in place.

“Nah, baby,” he murmured between kisses to her sensitive bud. “Ain’t no God here. Jus’ me. And I’m the only one you gon’ pray to tonight.”

The cocky rasp in his voice sent another wave of heat crashing through her, and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips when he dipped lower to her entrance, his tongue slipping inside her. He thrust it in and out, his nose nudging her clit, and the combination had her gasping, her head tossing back against the pillows.

“Jimmy! o-oh—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he growled, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his beard glistening with her arousal. “Give it to me, mama.”

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding into her pussy curving just right to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His tongue returned to her clit, flicking it mercilessly as his fingers plunged into her over and over.

Amara’s body tensed, her thighs trembling as she was pushed toward the edge. And then, with a sharp cry, she came, her release soaking his fingers as her hips jerked uncontrollably.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy muttered, licking his fingers clean, his eyes dark with hunger as he looked down at her. “You always make such a big mess, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

Before she could catch her breath, he was on her again, dragging her into his lap. He sat back against the headboard, his sweats already discarded, his thick, heavy dick standing proud between them. The sheer size of him made her thighs clench instinctively, and Jimmy caught the flicker of awe in her eye.

“C’mon, mama,” he said, his hands gripping her waist as he guided her over him, teasing her entrance with the tip. “You’ve taken it before. You can take it again. You’re my good girl, ain’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling, her breath catching as she lowered herself onto him.

The stretch was intense, almost too much, and Jimmy groaned low in his throat, his fingers flexing against her hips as she sank down, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his head falling back against the headboard as he felt her walls squeezing him. “Look at you, takin’ all of me. Pussy so fuckin’ tight for me. You feel that, huh?”

Amara whimpered, shifting her hips a little. “You’re so big, Daddy,” she gasped, her voice trembling.

“I know, baby. I know,” Jimmy murmured, his hands sliding up to cup her ass, squeezing it as he began to guide her movements. “But you’re takin’ it so good. Just like you always do.”

She started to move, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had them both moaning. Jimmy’s hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her waist, her breasts, her thighs, like he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, groaning. “Look at you. Ridin’ daddy like a pro. Fuckin’ made for me.”

Amara’s pace quickened, her thighs burning with effort as she chased the pleasure building inside her. Jimmy watched her intently, his eyes fixed on the way her body moved, the way her nails dug into his chest as she lost herself to the rhythm.

“You close, baby?” he asked, his voice teasing. “You gon’ cum on Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes, yes,” she whimpered, her head tipping back as the pleasure surged through her, overwhelming her.

Jimmy grinned, gripping her waist tighter as he thrust up into her, meeting her movements with his own. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

Her climax hit her once again, trembling as she cried and cursed out his name. Jimmy groaned, his dick twitching inside her as her walls clenched around him.

But he wasn’t done.

“Turn around,” he says softly but firm.

Amara obeyed, her body still trembling as she shifted into reverse cowgirl, her hands gripping his thighs for balance. Jimmy’s hands were back on her ass in an instant, spreading her cheeks as he guided her back onto him.

“Look at this fuckin’ view,” he muttered, giving her ass a sharp smack that made her yelp. “You’re so goddamn sexy, baby. Can’t get enough of your pretty ass.”

He thrust up into her, the angle hitting deeper than before, and Amara’s cries filled the room as he pounded into her.

“Fuck, daddy!” she sobbed, her head falling forward as tears pricked her eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips as he drove into her harder, faster. “You so pretty when you cry for me.”

Amara’s third orgasm ripped through her, her body shaking as her squirted around him, soaking his thighs. Jimmy didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, still pounding into her relentlessly as he chased his own climax.

“On your back mama,” he demanded, his voice rough.

She barely had time to move before he flipped her onto the mattress, folding her knees to her chest as he slid back inside her. His thrusts were deeper, slower, and Amara’s cries got louder as the pleasure overwhelmed her again.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his cock driving into her with enough force to make the bed creak. “I’m gon’ cum baby. You want that, huh? Want daddy to cum inside you?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” she cried, her nails digging into his shoulders.

With a final, deep thrust, Jimmy came, his dick twitching as he spilled inside her, the warmth flooding her walls. He groaned low in his throat, his hips jerking as he emptied himself, his release spilling out of her as he stayed buried deep.

When he finally pulled out, Amara was trembling, her thighs soaked, her body completely spent. Jimmy grinned down at her, leaning in to kiss her softly, his lips lingering against hers.

He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over her body as they lay tangled together in the sheets. Her chest was still rising and falling heavily, a flush blooming across her brown skin as she tried to catch her breath. Jimmy’s head rested on her shoulder, his lips brushing against her collarbone, leaving lazy kisses like he was tending to a delicate flower.

“You alive down there, mama?” he murmured, grinning against her skin.

“Barely,” Amara muttered, her voice muffled as she pressed a hand to her forehead, feigning exasperation. “I can’t believe you.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense as he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her with an exaggerated pout. “What you mean you can’t believe me? Girl I’m out here givin’ you the best dick of your life, and this is the thanks I get?”

She swatted his chest lightly, but her lips betrayed her with a small smile. “You know damn well you’re a show off. Who does all that and still has the audacity to talk shit after?”

“Me,” Jimmy said proudly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Big Jim, baby. That’s what I do.”

Amara rolled her eyes, but she was laughing now, the sound bubbling up soft and carefree. Jimmy grinned down at her, loving the sight of her like this; relaxed, happy, and vulnerable.

“You know what?” he said suddenly, his tone playful as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, then her nose, then her forehead, each kiss accompanied by a dramatic “mwah!”

Amara squirmed under his affection, giggling as she tried to push him away. “Jim, stop! You’re so annoying!”

“Nah, I ain’t stoppin’,” he said, wrapping his arms around her tighter, trapping her against him. “I’m annoyin’, but you love it. Don’t even lie.”

“Do not,” she huffed, though her grin said otherwise.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back just enough to look her in the eye. “Oh, so you don’t love it when I hold you like this? Or when I kiss you like this?” He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her lips that made her toes curl despite her resolve.

“Maybe,” she whispered, her voice soft now, her gaze flicking away shyly.

“Maybe?” Jimmy repeated, chuckling as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Nah, mama. Say it right. You love it.”

Amara bit her lip, eyes rolling and her cheeks warm as she finally relented. “Fine. I love it.”

Jimmy beamed, his grin wide and boyish, and he pressed his forehead to hers, their noses brushing. “Damn right you do.”

The moment softened, their laughter fading into quiet, affectionate silence as Jimmy reached up to tuck a stray coil behind her ear. His hand lingered, cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed her skin.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “Now, don’t be surprised when I tell the next interviewer they gotta ask you why they call me Big Jim. You better have somethin’ good ready to tell ‘em.”

Amara groaned, covering her face with her hands as she burst out laughing. “You’re annoying!”

“You love it though,” he teased, pulling her into his chest, holding her tight as her laughter echoed around them.

And damn it she did.

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

Text

FIGHT TALK | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader

Request: Hi! Can I request a Drabble with the character Eddie Munson, with the prompt “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever.”. Imagine that Eddie being protective and acting as a bodyguard to the reader who is being bullied a lot, he feels sorry and guard her.

description: Eddie is not very happy when he finds his darling girlfriend stashed in the AV room after her first fight

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: swears, blood, mention of the f slur, broken nose? very quick dirty thought from Eds (it’s Eddie what can I say)

main masterlist

authors note: eddie x sunshine reader is about to be a thing around this neck of the woods since my beloved @palacearcaderadiostation demands more 💗

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Dustin held his hat scrunched tightly in his hands, as if he were in church or in mourning. “I never even got to say goodbye to Tews, my mom’s gonna be crushed,”

“Are you shitting me, he’s gonna make us wish we were dead,” Mike rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Do you remember what he did to Tommy H when he shook her soda can and it exploded in her face? My mom said the Hagen’s had to take him to a specialist in Chicago to get his nose fixed.”

Dustin paled even more, as Lucas returned with a sweat on his brow, the older boy hot on his heels.

“Move! Move out of my way- Out of my way,” Eddie cursed, shoving the other students hard enough they shot him dirty looks over their shoulders. Not that he cared, he had a sneer of his own as he looked down at the three boys that seemed to quiver in their place under his sable gaze, “Where is she?”

“Eddie, please understand- We tried to tell her-” Dustin spluttered as Mike seemed to biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from doing the same. Eddie simply put his hand in the kids face, glaring at him hard enough to silence him immediately.

The three of them would rather face the Wyvern they’d fought in their last campaign head on than have to deal with their dungeon master like this.

“Where is she, Henderson?” He growled, and the boys could do nothing but point to the AV room they’d stashed her in to keep her from the other student’s nosy gaze. Eddie didn’t need any other instruction, he was at the door in seconds, bursting through into the small, darkened room, his eyes falling on the girl sat on the table, legs swinging back and forth happily as if she wasn’t sporting a black eye and a bloodied nose. His breath hitched, his chest constricting tightly as he watched her own gaze flick to his. “Oh, baby,”

“Eds! Did you see? Did they tell you what I did?” She asked, her lips pulling into a smile as her boyfriend came closer, his hands grabbing the sides of her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks.

“Mother of Christ, what did those shits do to you?” He snapped angrily, though his eyes were wide, the sadness written clear over them. Waving him off, she held onto his wrists with split knuckles, another factor that had him nearly clutching his pearls in aghast.

“It wasn’t their fault Eds, David Johnson was picking on Dustin for his lisp and calling them all-” She stopped, her nose scrunching in disgust when she thought of the word they’d used.

“Gay?” Eddie asked, to which she shook her head, though his eyes were quick to notice how the movement tugged on her split nose, “The other one?”

“The F one,” She muttered, hating that she even had to say it, “I dunno, I can take it when they say it about me. I just couldn’t stand to hear that about them, they’re good kids,”

He felt his expression soften, watching as she fiddled with her sleeve, another thing that had fallen casualty to her heroics as a thin tear trailed up her arm.

“You are just the bravest maiden there is, huh?” He asked, his chest butterflying when she looked up at him with the same happy smile she always had when he spoke like they were in one of his games, “And oh, your teeth! Those beautiful teeth, are they okay? Did they survive the warfare? Let me see,” Within seconds he had puckered her cheeks with one hand effortlessly, his other thumb lifting her lips up and down as if giving her an oral exam.

Her giggles vibrated on his palm that rested on throat as she tried to pull away from his grip, only partially succeeding as he took his finger out but held her still.

“-ds” She mumbled through her pursed lips, feeling him loosen on her jaw for just a moment before he gave her a gentle peck, careful not to bump her nose. Trying to pull away to tend to her ailments, he was stopped when he felt her fingers loop through his belt, tugging him forward for another longer kiss, her pretty lilac nails brushing against his tummy.

Chuckling as he pulled away, his hand moving from her jaw to cup her cheek sweetly, his eyes seemed to zero in on the cut on the bridge of her nose, the skin around it mottling into a bruise. He couldn’t miss the way it seemed to welt with fresh blood, the sight of it worrying him despite it being no bigger than his nail.

“You are just in luck, brave maiden, your medic has arrived prepared,” She smiled wryly as he dug through his bag until his face lit up as he brushed against the packet, “Ah, ha!”

Pulling out two from his collection, he held the bandaids up to her face so she could see for herself.

“Dangermouse or Ducktales?” He asked, the two brightly coloured cartoons staring back at her as she pointed to the three little ducklings.

“Ducktales, please,” She said, watching him peel the paper from the back, gently sticking it over the bridge of her sore nose, “I bet you do this for all your patients,”

“Only the most valiant of warriors,” He murmured, pecking the tip of her nose with soft eyes, “That’s just because you’re my favourite,”

She giggled again, as he picked up her scraped hand delicately, scanning over the small cuts attentively. Putting his hand to his mouth, he fake retched, covering his eyes in horror.

“Oh God,” He gasped, turning away from the sight, “Oh, god. I think we’re gonna have to amputate,”

Shoving him on his chest, she snickered at his dramatics, her fingers already scabbing over from their minor wounds. “Quit playin’. I was very brave today,”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, baby,” He said, giving her knuckles some tender kisses, not caring it seemed gross seeing as she was bleeding. “Did you get him good at least, honey?”

She perked up even more, eyes alight with a sick little delight he hadn’t seen in her before. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t have his boxers stirring.

“I split his lip, would have gotten his nose too if he hadn’t jumped on me,” She said, and Eddie couldn’t help the raucous laugh that left his throat.

Pressing more kisses to her hairline he smiled, down at her from her place still sat atop the table. “Don’t worry, you’re on the bench in round two, Balboa. I’ll give him something to cry about,” He smirked at her, his nose brushing against hers sweetly, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever.”

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andvys · 10 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eleven ⭐︎ Yeah, I know it seems surprising when there’s lipstick still on the glass

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, oral (male receiving), mentions of the upside down, jealousy, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your jealousy gets the best of you, and you show Steve a side he hasn't seen before.

Word count: 9.2k

Author's note: I know you're sick of me tagging you but shoutout to you for always helping ♡ @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“It has to be perfect!” Lucas says from the passenger seat of your car, clapping his hands together as he glances at you with an excited smile on his face.

“It will be, you got all her favorite snacks, that alone will make her happy,” you chuckle as you keep your eyes on the road.

“You think?” Lucas asks, sounding nervous.

“I know it,” you assure him, nodding at him, “besides, why are you so nervous? You’ve been together for how long? Over a year?”

“Well, she broke up with me for a while, remember?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t count in my opinion, she went through a rough patch and you were always there for her, you were still… kind of together… in your hearts. She was just… hiding her true feelings and needed to be alone, she still loved you, it was a different kind of break up.”

He nods at your words, smiling to himself as he looks down, “yeah,” he whispers before he turns back to you, curiosity flashing in his eyes.

“Have you ever loved someone? I-I mean like, like I love Max?”

Your eyes soften behind your sunglasses.

The love between them is so pure, so young, yet so very real.

You get lost in your thoughts for a moment, his question repeating itself in your mind. You think about yourself at fifteen, at sixteen, at seventeen and eighteen. You are nineteen now, and the answer to his question is still the same, it will always be the same.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He asks but not with judgment in his voice, only with pure curiosity.

You shake your head, glancing at him before you pull up into the parking lot at Family Video, next to Steve’s BMW.

Your chest flutters at the sight of his car – the car that was in your driveway all night.

The thing between you and Steve is still new, still fragile but… constant.

After you gave in and stopped the radio silence that was driving you crazy, you started seeing each other frequently – five days out of the week. You were going behind everyone’s backs, sneaking around while you kept pretending to not like each other in front of your friends. You were still Blondie and Lego Head in front of them, but behind closed doors you were both someone else.

You are not what you wish you could be, but that doesn’t matter when Steve is inches deep inside of you and you feel his lips on your skin and his hands on your body, you get to pretend while you’re in moments of bliss. And when it’s over, you get to pretend that the marks on your skin are there because he wishes you were his, even when it’s nothing but a lie.

Steve can’t keep his hands off you, he can’t stop touching you, he can’t stop kissing you, he can’t stop fucking you – something keeps pulling him back to you, something makes you irresistible to him. You know it’s only that, the sex, the lust, the secrets, nothing more. He doesn’t feel the way you do, not in the slightest, but in some way, he feels something, and that gives you peace… for now.

You keep pushing your feelings aside, not wanting to give in, not wanting them to get in the way.

“Yeah,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat after parking your car, “I’m not good with feelings.”

“Huh,” he nods, furrowing his eyebrows, “that’s funny, reminds me of a certain someone.”

You tilt your head at him as you take your sunglasses off and put them in your cup holder.

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Well, she’s got red hair, wears pigtails a lot and can be super mean.”

A chuckle falls from your lips.

“You’re basically the older version of Max,” he grins, “you’re both stubborn and act all cold even though you’re the biggest softies at heart.”

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head at him.

“All you need is your basketball star boyfriend,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Family Video.

You scoff at him, waving him off as you hide your flustered face by turning away from him and getting out of the car.

“Steve is single, you know?” He says as he gets out of the car, shutting the door and walking around it to get to you.

“Mhmm.”

And you’re glad that he is.

You place your hand on his shoulder, giving him a pointed look, “why don’t we focus on your date night with Max, King Lucas?” You ask as you start walking towards Family Video, “and we focus less on mine or Lego Head’s dating life.”

He chuckles at both nicknames, he follows you to the store, rushing towards the door, he grabs the handle and opens it before you can, bowing his head with a playful smile on his face as he gestures to you to walk in first.

“Dork,” you chuckle.

You step into the store with a smile on your face and excitement rising up in you, knowing that he is here. Your eyes instantly catch him standing behind the counter with his arms crossed, biceps on full display as he wears a black shirt beneath the green vest, his hair slicked back a little, probably from running his fingers through it all morning. A smirk tugs at his lips, and normally, it would drive you crazy and make your skin prickle, but not now.

Definitely not now.

Because the smirk, the look in his eyes that he always looks at you with, isn’t directed at you, no, it’s directed at her.

The girl you only recently found out about, the girl you hoped was long gone and away from Hawkins.

Jennifer Mitchell stands in front of Steve in all her glory, clad in a short sundress, her boobs are nearly on full display, her dark waves falling down her tanned back as she twirls the front strand around her finger, she glances back at you when the bell above the door goes off, her plump lips are the first thing you look at – god, you can’t even lie to yourself and think that she isn't gorgeous, because she is, you’re not blind.

She’s got a pretty face, curves that make her look like a goddess. She’s perfect.

A few months back, you would have swallowed down the jealousy inside of you, and you’d walk away, because there would be no point in dwelling on those thoughts in your head.

But now you have him.

And so far, you haven’t seen him flirting with other girls in front of you, you haven’t felt the need to worry about him hooking up with anyone else, even when it was there in the back of your mind, you ignored it and pretended that you were the only one.

But you aren’t, you aren’t the only one, you aren’t the special one, you aren’t enough for him.

The bitterness on your tongue is strong, just like the burning in your chest, the red and ugly flames that become brighter and brighter the longer you look between them.

The way he stands before her, so confident and cocky, the way he talks to her, the way he is so close, the way his lips are curled into a smirk.

You could throw up.

His eyes meet yours, and you instantly look away with an eye roll and a sigh, making your way into the horror movie section without bothering to greet him.

What you failed to notice was how bored he looked until he saw you, and how his eyes lit up when he took in the sight of you, the way his plastered smirk turned into a soft smile.

“Hey Steve,” Lucas greets him, waving his hand at him as he follows you.

“Hey guys,” Steve greets you both, even though you have already walked past him and turned your back to him. His shoulders slump a little, but you’re long gone to see.

Robin is stacking up tapes, humming along to the song that plays on the radio, standing with her back turned to you, she doesn’t notice you or Lucas, until the latter taps her on the shoulder, startling her a bit.

She turns around, some horror movie tape in her hand, her features relax when she sees the two of you.

“Oh, hey guys! What’s up?” She grins.

“Lucas is looking for a movie, for his date night with Max,” you say, smiling at the boy beside you.

“Aw!” Robin pouts, tilting her head as she looks at him with an adoring smile on her lips, “you two are just the cutest.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the smile that appears on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you both off, taking a step back, “I will just… look around for the perfect movie or go bother Steve while you girls chit chat,” he mumbles before he leaves the aisle again.

Robin frowns at him, “why don’t you chit chat with us? We wanna know more about your date!”

“She can tell you all about it!” Lucas points at you, blushing already.

She chuckles at the flustered look on his face, watching as he inches away from the two of you, her eyes fall on Steve, who is still talking to Jennifer, who is now leaning over the counter, a pen in her hand and a note in front of her, she’s writing down her number, no doubt. She straightens back up, giving Steve a flirty smile – yeah, she definitely wrote down her number. She hands him the note before she turns around and makes her way out, looking over her shoulder one more time to wave at him.

You clear your throat, looking around at the tapes in front of you, “so… they’re having a movie night. We went to Big Buy’s first, he got a bunch of her favorite snacks, and then we stopped at the record store, he bought her a new album – oh, but he’s also been talking about making her a mixtape, which I think is super cute!” You ramble, not noticing that Robin’s eyes are elsewhere.

She raises her eyebrows, craning her neck a little.

Steve turns around with the note in his hand, he doesn’t even open it, he doesn’t even look twice at it, he just throws it in the trash and turns back around, running his fingers through his hair, for the millionth time today. He reaches for his magazine and continues flipping through it like nothing happened.

Robin’s jaw nearly drops at his action.

When has he ever done anything like this?

“And I thought maybe she will like a horror movie, so that Lucas can wrap his arm around her…” Your voice falters a little when you notice that she isn’t even listening. “Robs?” You mumble, waving your hand in front of her hypnotized face. You turn around and follow her gaze. Your eyes land on Steve, who is now alone again – a sight that fills you with… relief.

You turn back around, raising your eyebrows at her.

Robin seems to snap out of her stupor, shaking her head a little before her blue eyes meet yours again.

“Sorry, spaced out.”

“Because of Dingus?” You chuckle, tilting your head, “you’re not turning straight are you?” You joke, earning a slap to your shoulder from the blonde.

She gags at your words, before she starts laughing.

“Okay! So… we are looking for a horror movie for the love birds?” She asks.

You nod.

“Alright,” she smiles, nodding her head as she turns towards the tapes, looking through them with squinted eyes.

And while she is distracted, you can’t help but turn back to Steve to look at him properly, even when you can only see his back, your eyes are filled with longing, and still with jealousy.

Did she leave her number before she left?

Is he gonna take her out on a date now?

Is he gonna see her instead of you now?

Is he gonna replace you with her? – That thought leaves you with nothing but sadness, not the burning red anger that you feel when you think about him hooking up with her. As long as he comes back to you, everything will be okay, you will be okay. But, if he leaves for good, and he replaces you with someone else, the anger won’t be the feeling in control.

With a sigh, you turn away from him and look back at Robin, who reaches for some Zombie apocalypse movie that you have never even heard of before.

Lucas doesn’t seem to mind that she’s the one picking the movies out for him, once he’s got everything he needs, you both make your way over the counter, and you once again have to hide your feelings behind a confident smile as you’re forced to face him again.

“Having a movie night?” Steve asks as he grabs the tapes, taking a look at them.

His voice alone makes your stomach flutter.

“Yeah, my parents are having a date night, they won’t be home until past midnight, so… I’m having a date night with Max,” Lucas grins and places his hands on the counter.

“So you purposely picked the horror movies so you can wrap your arm around her, huh?” Steve smirks at him, before his eyes move to yours and he winks at you when Lucas looks down.

One look from him, one smile, one tiny little action and all your worries are out the window for a second. All you see is him, all you feel in your chest is the pounding of your heart that he causes every single time, he leaves goosebumps on your skin, he leaves you aching and wanting for more.

Every time you’re with him, every time he smiles at you, nothing around you no longer exists, none of your bad thoughts, none of the girls he had been with, not even the one that just stood here in your place, the one that caused you a sliver of panic.

You’re truly and utterly ruined.

Steve turns you into a lovesick puppy, you wear the pink sunglasses when you’re with him, no longer able to think straight – you are blind and unaware of absolutely everything. And it should scare you, it really should, but you don’t care, not right now, you might not ever.

Steve could do anything to you, and you’d still look at him the same.

“That was her and Robin’s idea,” Lucas murmurs, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh?” Steve raises his eyebrows, smirking at you, “well, Robin must be the expert.”

“Not me?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head as he looks down, ringing up the tapes, “you’re the type of girl that wants to be protected during horror movies.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “right.”

Lucas looks between the two of you, eyes flashing with mischief, “well, Steve, you seem like the guy to protect the girl during horror movies,” he wiggles his brows, “so, I’d say you’re the perfect match for each other.”

You expect Steve to say something slightly mean, to keep the cover up, but instead, he looks back at Lucas before his hazel eyes lock with you, and an even bigger smirk tugs at his lips, as his eyes move up and down your body teasingly.

“Yeah? I guess Blondie and I should have a little movie night then huh?”

Lucas snorts, not taking Steve’s words seriously, knowing that this would be way too easy.

But you know what Steve means by that.

“Mhmm, sure,” you nod, tilting your head at the handsome brunette.

Lucas looks between the two of you, rolling his eyes, “you guys can stop playing, I know you won’t actually do that,” he mumbles, taking your words as a joke.

He pulls out his wallet, and pays for the movies, taking the receipt as well after Steve places it on the counter.

“Maybe I’ll convince you two to spend some time alone someday though,” he grins at the both of you, not noticing the way Steve looks at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, stepping away from the counter, “come on, buddy.”

You raise your eyebrows at Steve as you bring your hand up to your neck, where he had left a new hickey.

His eyes flash with lust and he bites his lip as he nods at you.

Excitement rushes through your body, despite what you had walked into just minutes ago, you can’t wait to see him tonight.

You flash him a smile before you leave.

Completely unaware of the storm it causes inside of him.

His eyes stay on you, even when you’re out of the store and inching closer and closer to your car. He tilts his head a little, so he can see more of you through the glass door, he watches the way your skirt bounces a little, he feels like a perv when he wonders about your panties, what color they are, if they’re lacy or not, but he can’t help it, especially when he thinks about your previous night together – how you looked beneath him, how pretty your face looked when it contorted into pleasure, how his name fell from your lips so beautifully, how your hands felt on his skin, how you clung to him as he thrusted in and out of your tight pussy.

Steve licks his lips, gripping the edges of the counter, watching as you get into your car.

His mouth waters as he thinks about devouring you, tasting you on his tongue and making you scream out in pleasure, again and again, until you’re nothing but a whimpering, shaking mess beneath his hands.

He looks at the watch around his wrist, nearly groaning in annoyance, three more hours to go.

“Hey,” Robin walks up to him, “what are you doing tonight?” She asks as she leans against the counter next to him.

He takes a look at her, finding her staring at him in pure curiosity, eyebrows pulled together as her eyes stare at him expectedly.

Fuck.

“Uh…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck, he tilts his head down, eyes falling on the trash can and the note he threw away. “I’m meeting… Jennifer.” He smiles, hoping that she will believe him, hoping that she will remember the time he talked about the girl a few months back.

“Oh?” Robin nudges her chin up a little, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steve nods, smiling as heat rushes up to his cheeks.

“A-And you?” He asks, hoping that she won’t ask any questions.

“Oh, nothing, maybe I’m just gonna go bother Eddie,” she shrugs, still staring at him and at the way his cheeks burn red.

Steve avoids her eyes, and that is something he only does when he is hiding something – usually it’s nothing serious, nothing big. But this is different.

He is hiding something else from her.

She knows it, she is sure of it.

He stopped looking at Nancy, he stopped talking about Heidi and Linda, he threw away a note of one of the hottest girls of Hawkins.

“Sounds great,” he mumbles, bringing his hand up to her hair, he ruffles it, chuckling at the annoyed groan that falls from her lips.

“I’ll be right back, Robs.”

He walks away from her and disappears into the hallway.

And she waits, she waits until she hears the door to the break room closing. She listens closely, biting her lip as she already looks down into the trash can, eying the note as her fingers itch for it.

The moment the door shuts, she quickly bends down, digging her hand into the trash that is luckily only filled with papers and wrappers, she reaches for the folded note and straightens back up, turning around after taking another look into the hallway, she leans her elbows on the counter, and unfolds the note.

Sure enough, Jennifer’s number is written on the white paper, under her name that is decorated with a heart on the side.

She raises her eyebrows, her lips part in surprise as she stares at it for a long time, unable to make sense of why he would do this.

Not only was she surprised to see him rejecting a girl a few days back, now he has also done… this.

Maybe… just maybe, he is sick of dates that lead to nothing and sex that has no meaning. After all, he did complain about his dislike of meaningless relationships that only consist of sex. It was fun for a while, but he got sick of it, he wanted something different, something real.

So maybe, that is why he keeps rejecting those girls and throwing away notes.

When he comes back a few minutes later, Robin acts innocent but she keeps a close eye on him, taking in the sight of his glowing eyes, the smile that keeps appearing on his lips whenever he gets lost in his thoughts, the blush that sometimes rises to his cheeks – If only she knew the reason behind it.

If only she knew that Steve wasn’t thinking about his upcoming ‘date’ with Jennifer.

If only she knew that he wasn’t rushing home after his shift because of her.

If only she knew what he was really going to be doing tonight.

If only she knew that it would be your door he would knock at.

“Missed me?” You smirk at him after you open the door, leaning against it, you don’t let him in just yet, turning your head to look at the clock in your hallway, “you’re here earlier than usual, someone’s eager to get his dick wet, huh?”

Steve huffs, lips tugging into a smile as he looks away for a moment.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been waiting for me,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, he puts his hand on your waist and pushes you to step back so he can walk into your house, he closes the door behind him, ready to grab your face and pull you into a deep kiss, but you seem to be having different ideas, you take another step back, letting his hand fall to his side as you turn around and make your way down the hallway instead of upstairs into your bedroom.

He furrows his eyebrows as he watches you disappear into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” You call out to him.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

Usually, you save that for later, but not today.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, looking around the empty hallway, he throws his keys on the counter and makes his way into the kitchen, almost startled by the way you push the cold beer in his hand, your fingers grazing his for a split second before you pull your hand away again, and grab another beer for yourself.

You pop the can and take a sip, eyes staring into his now.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he takes in the look of your darkened eyes, the lust that is clearly there, but there is something else tonight as well, he can’t pinpoint what it is, maybe because it’s a look he had never seen in your eyes until now.

He licks his lips as he eyes the top you’re wearing, low cut and stopping just below your belly button, showing off your cleavage and your soft skin. You replaced your skirt with shorts that are even shorter than what you wore before, but they look much more comfortable, soft and perfect to… sleep in. He can’t wait to rip them off of you and dive his face into your pussy.

He mimics your action, popping open his own can.

“So…” You start, piquing his interest.

He knew there was something, a reason as to why you didn’t pounce on him the way you usually do, the moment you open the door for him.

You start walking into the living room, and he follows.

“You talked to Jennifer today. Having a date, Stevie?” You ask, taking a look over your shoulder.

Something you’ve always been good at, was hiding your true feelings, your jealousy that you have dealt with over the years… but, hiding your jealousy is much more challenging now that you have him in some way. You try your best, you put on a brave, smug face and look at him with a smirk on your lips.

You take a seat on the couch, and he doesn’t hesitate to sit down beside you, eyes glinting with curiosity.

He doesn’t have a date, he doesn’t have one planned, and he’s not looking for one with her either. But you don’t know that, and you don’t have to know that.

There is a sliver of hope in him, that you might ask this question out of jealousy, despite the teasing tone behind your voice, he hopes that it’s that.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he mumbles as he looks down at his beer, he takes a sip, unaware of the glare that is directed at him.

“Aw, why?” You ask, tilting your head at him, “didn’t she fuck like a… goddess?”

When he looks back at you, he finds you staring intensely, the smirk still playing on your lips, though with a hint of tension, your eyes are a little squinted, if he didn’t look so closely, he would’ve missed the fire behind your eyes.

He doesn’t care about how great of a fuck she was, no one is better than you, no one appeals to him the way you do, right now, not that he would ever admit it to your face.

He wants to keep you, he wants you to keep him, he wants you to feel jealous.

“Mmm, can’t remember it that well,” he shrugs, sipping his beer, “so maybe I should refresh my memory a bit.”

You are driven by anger, by jealousy, his words make you see red, it feels as though you are in a haze, you can’t see clearly, you can’t see the look in his eyes, the teasing smirk on his lips, the smugness in his features after saying that to you.

You know he isn’t yours, you know that you’re exclusive, that he can go on dates and fuck as many other girls as he pleases, but you don’t want that.

You want to be the only one.

You want to be his only one.

The fire burns beneath your skin, the gnawing feeling in your chest wanting you to move, to do something, to prove to him that you are the only one that he needs.

You slam your beer on the coffee table, and then you reach for his, quickly placing it next to yours before you turn back to him, scooting closer to him on your knees, you grab onto his shoulders as you straddle him.

His large hands instantly reach for your hips, eyes blazing with lust as his smirk transforms into a lust filled one.

You cup his cheeks and without hesitating to, you smash your lips against his, dragging him into a rough kiss that he reciprocates right away, moaning approvingly as he finally gets what he had been craving all day long.

His fingers dig into your sides as he pulls you closer and closer, until you are flush against him and you are sitting on his dick, the only thing now separating you both are the clothes on your bodies.

You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his dick straining against his jeans and into your center, begging for attention. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and deepen the kiss with a whimper that vibrates against his lips, you taste the beer, the mint gum that he must’ve spit out before he came here. You pick up the pace, kissing him faster, rougher, more desperately.

Your hands leave his face, reaching into his hair instead.

A deep groan leaves his lips at the feeling of your fingers pulling his hair.

You start moving your hips, grinding against him as you keep moving your lips against his, still keeping control – the way you plan to keep all night.

His hands start roaming your body, getting lost beneath your top, he moans when he finds no bra to unclasp. His fingertips graze your smooth skin, moving to your front, he squeezes your waist with both hands, as he tries to buck his hips up to throw you under him, but you don’t budge, not today. You tug at his hair roughly, groaning into the kiss as you grind down harder against him, keeping him in place.

A whimper falls from his lips and he knits his eyebrows together, something deep within him stirs at your action, making him weak beneath you, making him putty in your hands.

You kiss him as though it’s the last thing you will ever do, taking his breath and making it your own as you swallow all his moans, you only pull away when the lack of oxygen gets to you, but you don’t hesitate to tilt his head to the side, and latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and biting his skin the way he usually does to you.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as he grabs your waist even tighter than before, “Blondie.”

His jeans have never felt more uncomfortable than they do right now, dick aching and throbbing as you keep grinding your pussy against it.

He tilts his head further to the side, allowing you more access to his neck, you instantly start peppering kisses along his side and his jaw, switching between sucking and kissing roughly, and Steve basks in the feeling, closing his eyes as he gets lost in the pleasure of your lips blessing him with such intensity.

His heart is pounding in his chest, his stomach swirling with lust as he holds you tightly, wanting to feel you close and closer.

Your hands slip down his stomach, fingers grabbing at his shirt, you pull it over his head swiftly, not wasting more time, you throw it behind you somewhere.

His eyes shoot open, and he looks at you in surprise when you start kissing down his chest instead, nails grazing his shoulder, his collarbones and the hair on his chest before your hands fall lower and lower, skimming his stomach, making him shudder at the feeling. His hands fall to his sides as he stares at you in awe, watching the way your lips trail kisses down his stomach. And then, you fall to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his belt.

“O-Oh shit,” he blurts out, eyes growing wide, “y-you don’t have to,” he rushes, despite feeling the need to see your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

“Shut up,” you nearly growl, “you’re gonna sit there and look pretty for me while I suck your dick.”

“O-Okay,” he whimpers, eyes turning black as he watches you.

Who is he to say no to this, to you anyways?

He had been dreaming of this moment.

You unbuckle his belt hastily, popping open the button on his jeans as you start tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts himself up a little, helping you. His dick springs free, slapping against his stomach, his tip an angry red as pre cum leaks out and rolls down his length already.

You will never not be amazed by how big he is, no matter the times you have seen him or felt him inside of you.

You lick your lips, placing your hands on his thighs as you move closer to him, you look up into his eyes, the shock, the lust and the desperation in them making you feel satisfied. Because this, all of his feelings, the look in his eyes is only reserved for you, right now. No one else. Just you.

You keep eye contact as you spit into your palm before you wrap your hand around his aching cock.

He furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip as he looks at your much smaller hand, and the way you start jerking him off slowly, teasing him.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he growls.

A huff falls from your lips, the fire inside of you, growing bigger, “don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve had never seen this side of you.

You are bratty sometimes, even mean, but you are never like this, you never order him around or tell him what to do – but this only gives him the confirmation that he needs, you are jealous.

And that fuels his own fire.

“Stop teasing and suck my cock, Blondie.”

You glare at him, clenching your jaw and unclenching it a second later when you move closer and closer until your lips are only inches away from him.

“When’s the last time you got your dick sucked, Stevie?” You ask before you stick your tongue out, pressing the tip to the underside of his cock and licking up to his tip.

A needy moan falls from his lips, and he has to restrain himself from throwing his head back.

“Answer the question,” you murmur as you swirl your tongue around his tip, welcoming the salty taste of his pre cum on your tongue.

You want to know if he has been with anyone else since you, you need to know.

He curses under his breath, curling his fists as he moans again when you keep teasing him with your tongue.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t remember!” He nearly whines in desperation, cheeks growing red under the dim lights in your living room.

He truly doesn’t, it’s been long before you, and it wasn’t very memorable either.

He never let you suck his dick, you don’t know why, but every time you tried to kiss down his body, he pulled you back up and threw you under him instead, using his tongue to pleasure you instead of letting you do the same to him – no guy has ever denied head, no one but Steve and it confused you, but you always guessed that he finds more enjoyment in giving, than receiving.

“Hmm, before me?”

“Yeah, fuck… Yeah, before you!”

Good.

You spit down on his dick, letting it roll down his length before you wrap your lips around him and envelop him with wet warmth as you take him down your throat, tearing a gasp out of him.

He almost jumps up, eyes growing wide as you nearly take his full length. No one has ever been able to take all of him. He is aware of his size, of his length, one girl nearly threw up all over him when his tip hit the back of her throat, but you, you are special.

“Mmm,” you moan around him, closing your eyes as you start sucking him off, like you’re doing it for your own pleasure.

His lips part, jaw dropping as he stares down at you.

You start bobbing your head, slowly at first, moans vibrating against him as you get lost in it.

Steve can’t hold back any longer, he brings his hand down to your head, grabbing your hair as he whimpers your name loudly and it only prompts you to move faster.

You hollow your cheeks around him and take him deeper and deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, and you keep sucking him off with no struggle, you breathe through your nose calmly, moans still falling as you pleasure him in ways no one ever has before.

He nearly wants to curse and pull at your hair when he thinks about how many men had the pleasure of feeling this before him. An ugly feeling bubbling in his chest at the thought of it, he had been so good at pushing those thoughts aside ever since he learned more about your past, ever since you revealed more of your secrets to him. He wasn’t very pleased to find out details about your sex life, a weird feeling cursed through his veins every time he found out something new, but he couldn’t hide his curiosity either, wanting to know things himself… so he can make you feel better than they ever could.

But now is not the time to think of such things, he pushes everything aside, every worry, every weird feeling in his chest, and he focuses on you, just you.

“Y-You’re doing so good, B-Blondie…” He gasps, pulling at your hair a little, he watches you, he watches the way tears start to roll down your cheeks as you suck him off eagerly, desperately, and in such a dirty way.

Saliva rolls down your chin, your moans falling and vibrating against his throbbing cock, glassy eyes now looking up into his as you bring one hand up to his length, using your hand where your mouth can’t reach, while you use your other hand to play with his balls gently.

Steve is speechless, he can’t come up with the right words, he is in awe, in absolute bliss as he gets lost in the pleasure that you bless him with.

You both should’ve done this earlier, much much earlier.

His eyes nearly fall shut, but he doesn’t, he can’t look away from you, not even when his own eyes fill with tears from pleasure, turning the vision in front of him blurry.

He adores your big eyes and your swollen lips as he watches how they move back and forth on his aching dick.

He feels the heat in his stomach spreading, moving down to his pelvis, to his thighs. His breathing gets heavier, the more seconds pass, his moans get louder and needier, his heart starts racing. He is so close, so very close, and it feels so good. Not as good as it feels to be inside of you, to feel you around him, to feel you clinging to his body, to feel how tight you get around him, but this is definitely the second best thing he has ever come to feel.

He nearly starts drooling, unable to close his mouth.

His stomach contracts and he digs his fingers further into your hair, he keeps his hips still, not wanting to gag you.

You remove one hand from him, and move it down your own body, slipping it past your shorts and your panties. You moan around him as you push your fingers through your slick folds, teasing your clit before you slip two fingers inside of you, stretching yourself open for his cock.

“Fuck!” He gasps, watching you wide eyed as your moans get louder, “are you touching yourself?”

Another moan from you is the only confirmation he needs, and that, only brings him closer to his high.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, and you would love nothing more than to keep doing this until he cums down your throat, but you pull away from him, almost smirking at the loud whine that leaves his lips when you release him with a pop!

You’re surprised to see tears in his eyes, desperation lingering in them as he stares at you, waiting for more. He is breathing heavily, his lips parted and cheeks glowing. He looks so good like this, so sexy. It takes everything in you not to sink back to your knees and finish what you started.

You rise to your feet, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach at the sight of his disheveled looks.

You quickly take your shorts and your panties off, letting them pool at your feet.

Steve swallows, cursing under his breath as he leans forward to retrieve the condom he stuck in his back pocket earlier. Before he can even rip the foil apart, you snatch it from his hand and straddle him just the way you did before, you bite your lip as you open the foil and pick out the condom.

Steve doesn’t realize just how fast he is breathing, how needy he seems as he grabs your bare hips with his hands, urging you to put the goddamn condom on his throbbing dick.

You scoot closer, licking your lips as you roll the condom over his length, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips, a smirk tugging on yours.

Steve can’t help but admire you, staring at your slick and swollen lips, at the tears that pool on your lower lash line, your nipples that poke through your thin top. You’re hot, you’re so fucking hot, he can barely contain himself.

You grab his left shoulder as you use your free hand to tease his cock by slipping it through your folds, making you both moan in pleasure.

“I-I’m gonna… fuck… Blondie!” He warns, glaring into your eyes.

You can’t even help but chuckle, taunting him with a smug smirk on your lips.

He holds your hips tighter, face growing redder, he is ready to flip you over and fuck the brat out of you. He is so close, so goddamn close already, it won’t take much for him to shoot his load into the stupid condom.

You look into his eyes, as you finally give into both yours and his needs, you sink down on his cock, scrunching up your face in pleasure as he splits you open.

“O-Oh,” he groans, gripping your hips so tightly that it’ll definitely bruise your delicate skin, “just like that, ba– good girl.”

You bite your lip so harshly that moments later, you can taste blood, but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything when he is inside of you and his hands hold you so needily.

You take him inch by inch, until his cock is buried deep inside of you and you’re fully seated on top of him.

He is moaning, whimpering beneath you, and you didn’t even get started yet.

You take a moment, a few seconds, to adjust to his size, blinking away the tears that keep building up in your eyes, your mouth waters as the mix of pain and pleasure takes over, you shut your eyes, not seeing him any longer, not seeing the way he’s looking at you, like he is in awe, in utter bliss, like you’re the only thing that matters in this godforsaken world.

His eyes take in the way you throw your head back, the way your lips part in pleasure, the way the strap of your top falls down your arm, exposing more of your chest to him. He licks his lips as he moves closer, kissing your shoulder and up to your neck, trying to distract himself from how good it feels to be balls deep in your pussy that he wishes he could feel around him without the rubber that separates him from feeling you the way he only did once before.

You wrap your arms around him, cupping the back of his neck lightly, as you roll your hips, earning a moan from him.

He instantly pulls away from your neck, stopping the kisses, he needs to see you again, to watch your face contorted in pleasure.

He leans back against the pillows behind him, still holding your hips tightly as he takes a look at you.

Your eyes fall to his neck, you would choke him, that was something you were into before. Before the whole upside down thing happened, before the Demobats choked him, before Jason choked you.

So instead, you grab his hair tightly, knowing that it’ll make him whimper, you pull his neck back, and lean in, licking his skin teasingly before you start kissing him there again and giving the scar around his neck the soft attention it deserves as you roll your hips again, and clench around him.

“Did Jennifer do this to you, Steve?” You murmur against his skin as you press another soft kiss to his scar, “or did she just lay there, making you do all the work?”

He doesn’t know what drives him more crazy, the fact that you’re jealous, the fact that you’re sitting on his cock or the raspiness of your voice as you kiss him like he means something to you.

You roll your hips again and again, making him whine and groan in pleasure, but then, you still on top of him, making him wince as you suck on the side of his neck.

“She totally let you do all the work while she screamed your name to fill your ego, didn’t she?”

He clenches his jaw, growling at you, “Blondie… if you don’t move…”

“If I don’t move, what?” You ask as you pull back to look at him, lips curling into a smirk as you look into his angry eyes, “I can just say no and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

He gulps at your words, but he nods, hazel eyes taking on the desperation again.

“S-She didn’t ride me,” he admits.

“I know she doesn’t… Billy told me she sucked at it,” you smirk, not giving him the time to react before you finally start moving. Slamming yourself down on his cock.

“Oh fuck, just like that!” He moans, wrapping his arms around you fully as he pulls you flush against him, “don’t stop!”

Your own moans start falling from your lips, hands clinging to his hair now as you ride him.

His hand gripping your sides and tugging at your top, silently begging for you to take it off – and you grant him his wish, pulling back just enough to rid yourself off the skimpy material, you throw it on the couch, gasping in surprise when he buries his face in your chest.

“S-Steve,” you moan as you start bouncing on his cock.

He massages your boobs, moaning against you as he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, shutting your eyes.

“Y-You feel so good,” he stutters against you, “you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“Yeah?” You whimper, grabbing his hair even rougher than before, pulling him back so you can see his face again, his lust filled eyes, his swollen lips, “you drive me crazy too,” you whisper before you slam your lips against his, nudging your nose against his as the kiss starts off roughly. He meant those words physically, while you mean it in a whole other way. More ways than only one.

“Mmm.” He whines as he twitches inside of you.

You know he won’t last much longer, he was ready to bust in your mouth just minutes ago, you’re impressed by the way he is able to hold back for so long.

His hands touch you everywhere, your back, your ass – groping it for a second before he brings it up to your front, tilting his head down, he watches the way you ride him, the way his cock disappears inside of you, a sight that only brings him closer and closer to his orgasm.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers, along with the squelching noises of your pussy, it’s what nears him to the edge he’s been dangerously close to since you wrapped your lips him.

Nothing could be better than this.

Nothing.

Your walls clench around him, and your moans get high pitched now, your lips move lazily against his.

He presses his fingertips against your clit, rubbing circles on your nub.

You respond by grabbing his shoulders tightly and picking up the pace, catching him off guard when you start bouncing harder and faster.

“Holy fuck!” He whimpers as you both break the kiss to look at one another, “I-I’m gonna cum!” He warns, moving his fingers faster on your clit.

You drag your nails down his chest, pressing your palms against his hairy chest as you lean your forehead against his, blinking away the tears of pleasure.

Your breaths mingle together as your noses bump into each other.

“Cum for me, Steve.”

“Cum with me, Blondie,” he demands as he keeps on pleasuring your clit with his calloused fingers.

You press your lips back against his, moaning into the kiss when you let go, and cum around him, as he spills into the condom, groaning loudly as he pulls you close, breathing heavily and whimpering at the feeling of your walls pulsating around him.

You stop moving after a moment, falling against his chest, you break the kiss, sighing in contentment.

Steve is too speechless to speak, still coming down from his high, he breathes heavily as he runs his finger up and down your spine, not knowing that a small action like that, is able to set your heart on fire, making it flutter and race at the same time.

You place your head on his chest, closing your eyes for a moment, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him, of the way it feels to be in his arms while he touches you gently, softly, his lips on your shoulders as he kisses you as though you are his, like you are the only one that matters, like you are the only one for him.

When in reality, you’re not.

You’re only this to him, something, someone who keeps him warm.

While he is your everything.

You aren’t the only one, you will never be, and yet, you will always take him back whenever he feels like having your body beneath him, instead of someone else’s, and even though it crushes your heart a little, you will always run into his open arms whenever he wants you.

You open your eyes again, staring into nothing. You only pull away when he stops with the kisses and squeezes your waist, tucking your hair behind your ear as he cups your cheek, pulling you back so he can see your face.

Heat rushes to your cheeks when your eyes meet his again, his dimples show when he smiles at you.

“Well… I discovered something I didn’t know I was into, just now.”

You can’t even help but giggle, pride swelling in your chest.

His eyes light up, he lets his hand move down your side again.

“Ah,” you nod as a smirk reappears on your lips, “that confirms that no one ever rode you before.”

He rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Don’t get fucking cocky now,” he murmurs as he pinches your ass, making you yelp a little.

“Let’s take this upstairs,” he smirks, “I wanna return the favor.”

And just like that, all your worries are out the window for now, because tonight, you are the only one on his mind, tonight he belongs to you.

Eddie is sitting out on the porch, smoking a cigarette as he looks up at the starry sky.

Wayne has a couple of friends over – Hopper included. He hears their laughter echoing in the backyard, the smell of burning wood lingering in the air from the little bonfire.

Eddie blows out the smoke of his cigarette, returning his attention to the notebook on his lap, he skims over the words he wrote before. He is working on a new song, one that he will hopefully play at The Hideout someday, soon.

The sound of footsteps pull his attention away from his notebook again. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks into his darkened driveway, craning his neck to see better.

For a moment, he thinks it’s you, until he sees the bike next to the lone figure that inches closer and closer and he recognizes the short hair and the red converse.

“Buckley,” Eddie says loudly, a grin pulling at his lips, “to what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“Hey,” she mumbles, a serious look in her features – a rare sight to see.

She drops her bike on the grass before she makes her way up on his porch, plopping down beside him. A loud sigh falls from her lips.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, grin slowly falling when he realizes that she’s in a bad mood.

He stubs out his cigarette, knowing that she hates the smell of it.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Did something happen?”

She shakes her head and turns her body towards him, looking into his eyes.

“Steve is lying to me about something.”

“Oh?”

She nods, eying his face, trying to figure him out, if he knows something.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “I-I don’t know what it is, but… we usually tell each other everything, so either, it’s something super embarrassing or… something he doesn’t feel ready to talk about.”

Eddie nods.

“He’s been acting weird for a few weeks now, but it’s not just that.”

Her eyes are troubled as she waves her hands around. “Today, Jennifer Mitchell walked into Family Video.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows again, curiosity sparking inside of him at the mention of that name. He remembers the conversation at the bonfire, how he gloated about that girl.

“She flirted with him and left him a note with her number written on it!”

Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “okay…?”

“Guess what he did!”

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I dunno, he called her?”

“No!” She throws her hands up, “that’s the thing! He didn’t call her! He threw the note away, but he told me that he’s going on a date with her tonight, when clearly, he isn’t!”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah, oh!” Robin nods, her blue eyes shining with confusion. “But it’s not even the first time that he’s done something like this! Five girls left him their numbers on notes, he threw them all away, every single one of them!”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together.

“You know, normally I’d think that maybe… maybe he’s sick of all the dates and the sex but I swear to god, he has new hickeys every few days or so… so he’s definitely being sexually active!”

“Huh,” Eddie nods as something sparks in his mind, “that’s uh… interesting.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking!” She raises her hands up, tugging at her hair for a moment as her eyes widen, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the only explanation that I have!”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes, he can see where this is going, what is about to leave her lips.

“And that is?”

She takes a deep breath, blue eyes staring into brown ones as she presses her palms together.

“Steve is gay.”

And Eddie blinks once, twice, three times…maybe sixty times.

“What did you just say…?”

“Think about it!” She nearly yells, “not going out with girls anymore, throwing their phone numbers away, Heidi suddenly being good at sex!?” She scoffs, shaking her head a few times. “Nuh uh. I’m– rejecting girls? Steve!?”

Eddie sits back, and stares into nothing.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, “you think he’s into dick?”

“I’m telling you… I am 90% sure.”

Eddie squints his eyes a little bit.

“What’s the other 10%?”

Amusement flashes in Robin’s eyes as she shrugs, “he’s a stripper in Indianapolis at night.”

Eddie snorts, chuckling as he pinches the bridge of his nose, looking back at the starry sky, he stared at before.

Robin’s explanation makes sense, but he knows what he saw. Steve’s eyes that day in the pool didn’t follow a man’s figure.

They were following his best friend.

♡

A/N: Stripper Steve was Roe's idea, if you're an Eddie girl and you wanna see more of Stripper Steve (and Eddie duh) and you haven't read Do I wanna know go and read it right nowwwww, it's literally one of my fave fics ever

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @joekeerysmoles @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem @agirlwholovesrockstars

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

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