#i have a whole au for this guy so sit tight for that smiles

[papanowo]

was looking thru the mermaid au tag on ao3 a couple months ago and realised bones is rarely the mermaid so i sought to change that

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

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“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

[2hightocare]

TUTUS AND TIARAS!

Synopsis— What Iseul says Jungkook does, besides tutus and tiaras are not that bad…

“Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?”

pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!oc

genre: found family! married au!

warnings: just super cute fluff, Jungkook literally doing anything Iseul tells him to do, cuss words, mentions of sex.

a/n: I missed writing their lil family :( welcome Jia to the family!! I love them so much… I hope you guys do too🥹

“Let’s be honest, I look sexy as fuck.” Your husband runs his hand over his body; a snort escapes past your lips, which gets glared at in return from Jungkook who’s in a pink tutu and pink tiara he stole from Iseul.

“Not only is he full of himself, but he’s delusional as fuck as well… great.” Ari shakes her head, as you take a picture secretly beside her with Iseul and Ye Joon clapping their hands happily on your lap.

Jungkook’s Calvin Klein boxers are visible to everyone in the room; the only thing barely covering him is the very small pink tutu that his daughter put on him, and she didn’t have to ask twice; everyone knew anything Iseul wanted she got. The small charm necklace lays tightly on his neck like a choker, shirtless, his tattoos in full display, the tiny tiara sits prettily on his messy hair.

“I can a hundred percent see your balls.” Hoseok sighs, as he rubs a hand through his hair. Giving his girlfriend a small tight-lip smile, which might translate as an apology for dragging her into this little family dynamic.

Jia still remembers meeting all of you on Christmas Eve dinner; to say she felt immediately welcomed was somewhat calming to her. She usually took super long to trust someone and open up, but meeting all of you sent her a sense of comfort whenever she was in everyone’s presence.

“Okay, I feel like I need to warn you before opening the door…” Hoseok softly chuckles, which causes steam to come out of his mouth from how cold it was.

Jia raises an eyebrow, “are they that bad?” She asks.

“Nothing to be scared of; they just love really hard…” He smiles at his girlfriend, who only nods in return, slightly feeling nervous since she knew that whoever was behind that door meant so much to the boy she had fallen in love with. “And besides, they are a little crazy too…” he shrugs before clicking on the doorbell to your and Jungkook’s house.

Hoseok moves the container full of chocolate chip cookies cut into cute Christmas decorations to his other hand, then takes Jia’s hand right after squeezing softly.

The door opens as you stand happily behind it; eyes lighting up when you see the couple in the entrance. “Hi! Happy Christmas Eve!” You quickly hug Hoseok, which he returns, wrapping his arms around your frame giving your back a small pat before separating.

“And you must be Jia, you’re prettier in person.” You open your arms before throwing yourself into a hug without thinking. Without a second thought, Jia hugs back.

“Come in; everyone is already here, we’re just waiting for Seokjin and Lora.” You part away from Jia, who’s smiling back at you before following behind you inside.

“Y/n said you had to share!” A boy throws himself onto the raven boy who’s hovering over the last cookie pack; he has been hiding from everyone. “Okay and? This is the last pack!” He shouts back as they both tackle on the couch, the cookie pack flying onto the floor.

“I’ve got a hundred on Kookie; who’s in?” The blonde girl says as she chews on the cookies from the packet that they’re fighting for.

“Done betting on Jungkook after No Nut November, thousand-dollar mistake. Motherfucker couldn’t last twenty-four hours.” Another guy comes in from the back and sighs loudly as the blonde girl nods before passing the pretty girl beside her a cookie.

Jia couldn’t explain how her body and mind instantly relaxed after witnessing the whole situation unfolding in front of her; she saw how you quickly intervened, separating the two boys before giving the raven boy with a tattoo sleeve a swat before snatching the cookie pack from the two girls’ reach and walking back to her.

She watched as the blonde girl passed a hundred bucks to a boy on her right. Before turning their attention to her.

“Hi, I’m Eunbi!” The blonde girl smiled warmly, “Happy Christmas Eve! I’m Ari.” The other girl beside her says, standing up and coming Jia’s way for a hug. “We’re huggers here!” Ari giggles.

“Taehyung,” He goes in for a hug as well, “I’m Jimin!” The boy who was just hovering over Jungkook smiles softly at Jia, going in for a hug as well.

“Jeon Jungkook, extrovert, DILF extraordinaire.” He says standing next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This motherfu…” You groan alongside everyone. “Here he goes again,” “He’s not allowed to introduce himself anymore.” “Can we throw him away?” All of them mutter under their breaths.

“Please ignore him; I’m y/n and I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life.” You roll your eyes as you motion to the guy beside you.

“You sure as hell are.” He puffs,

“Stop looking at my balls!” Jungkook covers his lower part with his hand before shouting, “Tae come out now!”

That’s when everyone gasps loudly, his wife’s jaw dropping to the floor sending Jimin into a fit of laughter. “And I thought Jungkook’s outfit was bad; I can’t! Someone record this shit right now.” Jimin laughs, throwing his head back as he clutches his stomach.

“Sending this to the family group chat ASAP; I need to see what Lora got to say about this.” You laugh as you take a picture of your husband and Taehyung side by side, Jungkook smiling with two thumbs up while Taehyung holds his balls tightly.

Taehyung stands beside your husband in a pair of pink leotards and sheer stockings a little too small for his large figure and has his two hands in front of his private parts. “It’s up my ass I’m afraid…” Taehyung states which sends the group into a large fit of laughter, the kids who suggested the fashion show are currently giggling and clapping their hands non-stop for their daddies.

“Take it off! I can’t breathe..” Ari clutches her stomach as she presses her legs together, as she’s about to pee herself. A loud ding is heard from everyone’s phones, “Lora said, ‘I didn’t know Tae took ballet classes?’ ‘Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?” You read out loud laughing between words.

“Oh, she’s so real,” Jia says between laughs as she watches Taehyung waddle away with Jungkook running behind him.

“I can’t believe I’m tied to this family for the rest of my life.” Eunbi fake wipes her tears as she sniffles, before snatching Jimin’s last cookie.

“Dada!!” Iseul says loudly when Jungkook comes back running down the stairs with a new cookie packet, “hi my baby” Jungkook’s eyes widened as he picks Iseul up from your lap and showering her cheeks with wet kisses. Iseul giggles in his arms trying to push him away.

“The day when Iseul grows up and doesn’t want Jungkook’s kisses—“ Yoongi tries saying, “I’m not listening, I’m not listening.” Jungkook starts screaming, sending Ye Joon and Iseul into a giggling mess as they both put their hands over their ears, copying him.

You watch with a big smile on your face. You truly had no idea how you ended up sitting on this couch surrounded by the people that you loved more than anything else in the world. You watch your husband with your daughter in his arms as he passes Iseul half of a cookie before going back to arguing with Yoongi about how Iseul will one day grow up, and she’ll be her own person that one day won’t ever listen to her dad ever again.

“In fact, Iseul might grow up before you do,” Taehyung says, patting Jungkook’s back as he walks beside him. The tights and leotard long discarded and replaced with jeans and a shirt before dropping in the middle of you and his wife on the couch, putting his arm around Ari.

“I’m done with all of you! Everyone out!” Jungkook pouts, pointing to the door. “You for real ain’t kicking us out?” Hoseok questions, laughing only to be met with a serious look on Jungkook’s face.

“Out. I’m trying to fuck my wife.” Jungkook says casually, not before covering Iseul’s ears.

And without a second thought, everyone stood up, collected their things, and made their way to the door. “Oh, we’re actually leaving?” Jia asks, confused about why everyone is suddenly in a rush to leave.

“You weren’t here at the time, but Halloween night… let’s just say party, bathroom, Y/N, and Jungkook.” Eunbi shivers from the memory.

And with that, everyone leaves, leaving you on the couch chuckling, and Jungkook locking the door behind them with Iseul in his arms. “Did you just say that so they could leave?” You stand up, making your way to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he puts Iseul down, and she waddles away with Bam, your guy’s Doberman puppy.

“No, I’m actually trying to fuck,” Jungkook shrugs, leaving a wet kiss on your neck. “Iseul?” You ask, trying to push him away.

“Princess! Nap time!” He untangles himself from you before rushing to get Iseul.

[seoktized]

coulomb’s law (s.jy + s.mt)

working on a science project with two jocks wasn’t the worst thing ever.. even if you all got locked in a room together.

word count: 3.1k (unedited 😀)

genre: college au, smut

warnings: fingering, creampie, tit play, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex. literally just smut idk what to tell u 😭

a/n: LOWKKKey self indulgent bc AWRF i love matthew and jake. finally back writing yayy!!! first long fic too omgomg pls tell me if u like, it means a lot!

you always had a like for all things science, so when you heard you’d be completing a science project you were ecstatic.

‘this would be easy’ you told yourself.

you believed that until you were paired with seok matthew and jake sim who happened to be your former crushes and star football players for your college.

the two of them knew they were stars. matthew and jake didn’t care about doing school work, often paying another student with daddy’s money.

the two were untouchable. because who would bench their best players? especially when they’re so close to making it to the championship?

when your professor announced your name along with the two boys’ you quickly realized easy was an understatement.

after everyone was given their partners, your professor dismissed class in order for everyone to get started on the project.

you stood up and collected your things, mentally preparing yourself to hear either boy to scoff and tell you do the project yourself.

you made your way down the aisle to the area matthew and jake were sitting in, the two of them were engaged in a conversation

‘they probably didn’t hear what the professor even said’ you thought.

your suspicions were confirmed when jake looked up at you with a puzzled look on his face. the three of you rarely crossed paths, so he had the right to be confused.

matthew saw jake’s expression and followed his eyes. the two boys staring at you made chills run down your arms, you could sense the judgment in their eyes.

“are you just going to stand there or…” matthew asked, an awkward expression was present across his face.

“right, um, we were assigned as a group for the science project.” you had a tight grip on your books, the way jakes eyes scanned your figure made you feel small.

“science project?” matthew looked over to jake who shrug his shoulders, “what science project?”

you rolled your eyes, “the professor was literally talking about it the whole time.”

jake chuckled, “all i heard was blah blah blah.” matthew laughed at jakes words.

“well, it’s due in two weeks so i’d like to get started,” you reached into your pocket to grab your phone.

“give me your numbers so we can arrange time to work on it.” you stuck your phone out in their direction.

matthew’s eyebrows raised and jake had a smirk growing across his face.

“woah, asking for my number already? i don’t even know your name sweetheart.” jake teased.

you visibly cringed at jakes attempt at flirting, it was no surprise jake would try and fuck anything on legs. you swore to yourself you’d never give in his advances, or so you thought.

matthew grabbed your phone and typed in his name and number before handing it to jake to let him do the same. jake laughed a little as he was typing in his information. he handed the phone back and you saw a heart emoji next to his name.

you glanced up at him and he shot you a wink. quickly looking back down to your phone, you created a groupchat for the three of you. sending a ‘hi’ to make sure they were in the chat.

“anyways, i’ve gotta get going. i’ll text you guys later to work out the details.” you gave an awkward smile to which matthew responded with a wave.

“bye, doll.” jake grinned. after you turned you heard a hand collide with someone’s chest. you assumed that matthew smacked jake because of how desperate he seemed.

texting them was even harder. the boys barely replied. when one of them did respond, it was a short ‘can’t we have practice’

looking down at your phone, you read matthew’s text which was another excuse as to why they couldn’t join you.

sighing, you set your phone down and decided to start on the project on your own. you knew from the beginning it would be like this. you felt a bit silly for almost believing they’d try to work with you.

you were honestly glad they weren’t able to show up. the whole process would go by much faster without the two of them goofing off the whole time.

you pulled out your laptop and placed it on the table. glancing out the door of the small room you were in, you noticed the usually crowded library was empty. just you and the nice librarian who was busy tidying up her desk area.

opening your laptop you began to type away, looking at different sources to complete the research portion of the assignment. you were pulled away from your research by a buzz from your phone. flipping it over you saw a text from matthew.

matt: practice was canceled and we don’t have anything else to do

we’re coming to work on the project

y/n: okay. i’m in room 28

‘*they really wanna work on this project?*’ you thought. you shrugged your shoulders and continued to work as much as you could before they arrived.

minutes go by and you hear jake being obnoxiously loud. the librarian told him to be quiet and he said a small “sorry, sorry.”

matthew entered first, jake following behind like a lost puppy. jake shut the door behind him and the two walked over to you. jake slammed his backpack on the table a little too hard making you jump.

“shit- sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“so what do you want us to do?” matthew asked, pulling out a chair so he could sit down.

“well, i’ve started on the research part,” you turned your laptop around to the boys, showing them the progress you’ve made so far.

“so you guys could go through and start writing out the experiment we have to do. i’ll send it to you.”

the two nodded and brought out their own laptops. you quickly typed away on your computer, sending them the doc you were working on.

matthew was actually focused on working. jake on the other hand kept sighing as his short attention span was creating a problem for him.

“why the hell do you keep sighing?” matthew snipped, starting to get frustrated.

“i cant focus.” jake whined, his hands combing through his hair in frustration.

matthew rolled his eyes, “dude it’s only been 30 minutes.”

“actually, it’s been an hour. an hour of doing nothing!” jake exclaimed.

matthew shook his head in annoyance at jake. you felt your body start to ache from being slouched over for so long.

you stood up to stretch, “should we get snacks? there’s a vending machine around the corner.” you closed your laptop.

the two boys agreed and stood up to leave the room.

jake reached the door first and twisted the handle. it didn’t budge. he started to twist it more in panic until matthew pushed him out of the way to try himself.

the door was locked from the outside.

your eyes widened, realizing you were locked in a room with jake and matthew.

you pushed the two out of the way trying the handle as if you were stronger than the two of them. unlucky for you, the door did not open.

jake groaned and rubbed his face with his hands.

“ms. kim! can you come open the door?” you yelled out, hoping the librarian heard you.

seconds passed there was no answer. you let your forehead fall against the door, sighing in defeat.

“let me try again,” jake stepped up to the door, attempting to open it again. it didn’t work.

“i guess we’re stuck in here.” matthew shrugged.

you didn’t reply, instead you made your way back to where you were sitting. plopping down in the chair, you opened your laptop back up.

the two boys exchanged glances for a second. jake smirked and nodded at matthew. they returned to their seats as well.

“let’s play a game.” jake said.

his facial expression told you he was up to no good. but you didn’t want to bore yourself to death with work so, you agreed closing your computer once again.

“what game?” you asked.

“truth or dare” matthew smirked.

you pressed your lips into a line, nodding at matthew.

it could be fun. what could go wrong?

“alright jake first, truth or dare.” matthew asked.

“mm.. truth.” jake replied.

“you’re no fun. but hmm.. what’s your.. biggest turn on?” a wicked grin was on matthew’s face.

your eyes widened at matthew’s words. you quickly realized this wasn’t gonna be a fun game. jake chuckled at your expression before pretending to think.

“i don’t know.. probably… begging? something about a girl begging for my dick seems so sexy,” his words were laced with cockiness. matthew nodded and turned to you.

matthew’s gaze made chills run down your spine.

“truth or dare?” jake sat up, waiting to hear your answer.

“um, truth.” you quickly said. matthew shook his head.

“have you ever thought about fucking one of us?” matthew raised his eyebrows, both boys leaned in waiting for your answer. matthew was bold.

“n-no.” you lied. the two of them could see right through it though, nodding and continuing on with the game.

“matt! truth or dare?” jake exclaimed.

“dare.”

“ooh!” jake rubbed his hands together, you on the other hand was scared for what jake was going to say.

“i dare you to… makeout with her for 30 seconds.”

your wide eyes shifted from matthew over to jake, staring at him in bewilderment.

matthew turned to you, “is that okay?” you looked back over to him and paused for a second before slowly nodding.

“i need to hear you say it, love.” he purred.

“yes.. it’s okay” you squeaked.

matthew moved closer to you, turning his head to jake, “count for us.”

“alright, go.” matthew placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. quickly melting into the kiss, you let matthew slip his tongue into your mouth.

your own hands that were once in your lap had found their way to his hair. matthew was a good kisser causing you to almost go drunk on his lips.

“times up!” jake interrupted.

matthew pulled away and you chased his lips, wanting more.

“woah, doll, we gotta continue our game yeah?” he chuckled at your eagerness.

pouting, you leaned back into your chair.

“mkay jake, truth or dare?” matthew asked.

“mm i’ll go with dare now.”

“i dare you to play with y/n’s tits.” matthew’s eyes were glued to your chest watching as it moved up and down from your breathing.

jake shot up and moved around the table to where you were. feeling a little bold, you took off your own jacket and shirt. your white lacy bra on display for the two of them to see.

jakes eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. to your right, you heard matthew chuckle.

jakes hands made their way to the back of your bra, swiftly unclipping it. he slid your bra off slowly, his eyes never leaving your chest.

moving in closer, he stuck his tongue out, giving kitten licks to your hardened nipples.

even though it was something small, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming. you were completely turned on from making out with matthew and this was the cherry on top.

you remember how you told yourself you wouldn’t let jake have you this vulnerable, but all those thoughts subsided the moment he latched onto your mound.

you bit your lip in an attempt to suppress the whimpers that threaten to slip from your mouth.

jake was basically making out with your chest at this point, one of his hands was fondling with the one he didn’t have in his mouth.

you let your head tilt back before you heard matthew’s voice ring through your ears

“time’s up!”

you lifted your head up, looking at matthew who was visibly hard and who obviously didn’t want the two of you to stop.

jake detached himself from your tit with a loud pop before sitting back in his own chair. his eyes were still glued to your chest.

“did you enjoy yourself?” matthew asked.

you nodded—not being able to speak— the two boys and their previous actions was the only thing on your mind.

“alright princess, truth or dare?” jake’s voice was a bit deeper signaling that he must be as turned on as you are right now.

“dare.” you breathed out.

the two boys exchanged a glance before smiling at you. they both stood from their chairs, moving closer to you. and though you were almost their height, them standing above you like this made you feel small.

“we dare you to let us fuck you.” matthew’s hand went to your jaw once again, stroking it softly.

jake bent down to let his hand trail up your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to your heat. they were waiting for you to give them the green light, which you did with a small “go ahead,”

jake’s hand had now traveled to the waistband of your pants, tugging on them to signal that he wanted to take them off. you lifted your hips up in order for him to slip them off of you.

matthew, on the other hand, was placing kisses all over your exposed chest, tasting what his friend previously did.

jake’s hand pressed against your clothed cunt, watching as the wetness seeped through your panties.

“matt look,” he chuckled, matthew detached from your chest to look down.

“fuck, doll, you’re so wet for us. such a good girl,” matthew praised, you let out a whine at his words.

the want, the need for them was getting stronger. who would thought that a science project would’ve led to you getting this wet for two star football players.

you pushed your hips against jake’s hand, trying to get some friction where you needed him the most.

“you want us to fuck you, baby?” jake asked, letting his hand pull away from your core. he wanted you to beg for them, for him.

“mhm, please. please fuck me.” you whimpered.

“okay love, we will.” matthew replied before jake could.

the two of them raised from their positions for a second in order to rid themselves of their clothes. they were hard. and big. you were in for it.

“i want her mouth. her pretty swollen lips would look so good around my dick.” matthew told jake. he nodded in response to matthew.

“hop on the table for us, doll.” jake said. you quickly moved to the table, laying down for them.

matthew came over to one side and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips. when he pulled back he let his thumb rub over your bottom lip. his other hand was wrapped around his aching cock, stroking it slowly.

“alright baby. i’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” matthew asked.

you nodded, sticking your tongue out for him. he grinned in response before placing his dick on your tongue. you let your lips close over his girth and he began to thrust in and out slowly.

jake was now on the side adjacent to matthew. he pulled off your panties, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

his thumb came in contact with your clit, making you moan around matthew’s cock. matthew winced at the feeling, whispering that your mouth felt so good.

two fingers were now circling your hole. jake pushed his fingers into your warm cunt, thrusting in and out before adding another finger. he continued his ministrations before deeming you prepped enough for his cock.

“gonna fuck you now.” he said before he slowly pushed in.

you all groaned in unison, pleasure on high. matthew was now thrusting at a faster pace, getting lost in the heat of your mouth.

jake was letting you adjust to his size before bottoming out. he stayed there for a second to relish in the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him so deliciously.

“fuckk you’re so tight-” jake winced. you tapped your foot on his thigh, signaling that he could move.

he started a quick but deep pace, watching as your tits bouced with every movement. his thrusting cause you to move against matthew’s cock, every thrust hitting the back of your throat.

matthew admired how you were gagging and sputtering on his cock. his hand brushed against your jaw, gripping it a little to thrust faster. you noticed he was starting to near his high as his breaths and groans started to increase.

he slipped himself out of your mouth, “fuck- open up.” he said as he started to stroke his length.

you obeyed and opened your mouth letting your tongue slip out too. he came on your face tongue with a loud groan.

“so so good for me, fuck.” he said as he came down from his peak.

jake’s thrusts were now relentless in an attempt to get both of you to cum. matthew intensely watched the area where you and jake were connected. he felt himself getting hard again at the sight.

your loud moans weren’t supressed anymore which boosted jake’s ego.

“fuck fuck fuck i’m close jake please!” you begged.

“me too, doll, fuck! can i cum inside?” he was roughly gripping your waist, rough enough to leave bruises.

“yeah, i’m on the pill!” you whined at the thought of him filling you up.

matthew was stroking his cock at the scene before him, his eyes flicking between your face and your cunt.

“god, i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” jake moaned. you nodded at his words.

one more thrust was all it took for you to some undone, your back arching off the table, moaning loudly. jake came soon after with a “shit!” leaving his mouth from the way you were clenching around him. his hips were flush against yours, letting your cunt milk him dry.

he pulled out slowly and you whined from the loss of contact. matthew had came in his hand beside you, all three coming down from your highs.

the room was full of panting, everyone attempting to catch their breath.

“hello? is anyone in there?” you heard from outside the door.

all three of your heads shot up towards the door.

“yeah! we’re still studying. give us a second!” matthew shouted.

you stood to put on your clothes, struggling a bit due to your wobbly legs.

the two boys did the same before packing up their things. matthew saw how you were having trouble so he placed his things down to help you out. jake helped by packing your things into your bag.

you all made your way to the door, matthew’s hand was on the small of your back to stable your walking. jake opened the door, smiling at the librarian before you all brushed past her to leave.

“maybe we should work on projects together more often,” jake smiled. matthew made a noise of agreement and you nodded.

and that you did, always making A after A on every project with your new group.

[peachhcs]

a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!

charm bracelet

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)

2.1k words

i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!

au masterlist

"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.

"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.

"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.

"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."

"promise?"

"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.

—

two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.

gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.

"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.

"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.

"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.

"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.

"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.

"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.

the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.

things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.

"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.

samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."

"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.

"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.

"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.

"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.

samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.

being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.

"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.

—

will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.

she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.

the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.

somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.

"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.

"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.

"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.

"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.

"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.

"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.

"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.

"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.

"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.

"have you talked to him since.."

"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.

"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.

"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.

"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.

samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.

god, what happened to that will?

"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.

while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.

"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.

"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.

"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.

a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.

"you and me both," samy frowned this time.

"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.

the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.

"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.

the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.

her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.

samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.

"who?"

mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.

"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.

the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.

there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.

her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.

will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.

she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.

she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.

samy even wondered how long he's had it for.

without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.

[xoxoxkisses]

That time of the month

info: reader is a girl; modern au; reader and muichiro have only dated for 2 months; both are 16

————————————————————————

You were sitting in the bathroom at your boyfriend’s house. You had just started your period in the middle of the movie you two were watching. You luckily didn’t bleed through and had prepared and brought some pads. You quickly put one on and went back to his room.

“What took so long Y/n?” He asked while you crawled back into bed. “Oh, nothing.” You looked straight at the tv. Your whole demeanor changed after you got back and even though you guys hadn’t been together long, he knew something was up. “Y/n what’s wrong? And don’t lie to me.” He had paused the movie so you would pay attention to him. You were embarrassed to tell him what happened. “Well um I started my period.” You looked away from him. “You did? Well there’s no need to be embarrassed, it’s normal.” He gave you a big smile and unpaused the movie.

Towards the end, your cramps had tripled in pain and your head was pounding. Muichiro had noticed this again and asked if you were ok. “My head really hurts and my cramps got worse.” You said shutting your eyes tight as another cramp came up. “Oh Y/n, why didn’t you say something?” Muichiro turned the movie off and got up to turn off his floor lamp. You were really confused on what he was up to. He crawled back into bed and scooped you up close to him.

He held you there rubbing your stomach and kissing you on your head. You were feeling a lot better and you felt really tired. As the two of you laid there, you had accidentally drifted to sleep. He figured you would as he remembered you saying you get really tired when it happens. He pulled you in a little closer and drifted off into his own slumber.

[billiesguitar]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

Fuckboy!Billie x Nerdy!Reader

- Part 4 || Au masterlist

I walked into Billie's dorm room, three wrapped gift boxes stacked on each other in my arms. She looked up from her bed, where she was laying down, using her phone. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement when she saw me. I poke my face out from behind it and give her a quick smile along with a 'help me' look.

"You're here!" she exclaimed, jumping up. "Come on, let's exchange our gifts before I forget." She helps me open the door and I set the gift down on her desk and sit on her bed, taking a moment to appreciate how clean she kept her room.

"Okay, okay," I said, handing her the skinniest of the boxes. "Here you go, Billie."

Her eyes showed a look of confusion as she took the gift, feeling how light it was. "what's this?" She teased, shaking it slightly.

"Just open it," I giggled.

she does, tearing the wrapping paper and lifting the lid off the box. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god," she murmured, holding up a 'Supreme Star' Jersey.

"You like it?" I asked nervously.

"you shouldn't have" she says "its so expensive"

I waved it off. "It's just a little something, I know how much you wanted it," I said with a smirk.

"Thank you," she said, giving me a tight hug. "I've got something for you too." She handed me a small box.

I took the box, "what's this?"

"Just open it," she smirks, her eyebrow raising slightly.

I opened the box and inside was a pair of earrings, they were beautiful. They had little stars hanging from them. "Billie, these are amazing," I whispered, taking them out and putting them on.

"I knew you'd love them," she said, smiling at me.

Her phone starts ringing and she checks the screen before rolling her eyes. "It's Finneas," she says, answering the call. "What's up?"

"You didn't tell me you had company," a voice, clearly her brother's, came from the phone.

"It's just y/n," she said casually. "Wait, how do you know I have company?"

"I'm outside your window," he said, and Billie's eyes widened.

"You're what?" She rushed to the window, and sure enough, there was Finneas, leaning against the tree, grinning like the devil himself. "Oh my," she mumbled into the phone. "Hold on, I'm coming down, also I'm bringing y/n." She says, excitedly. "Alright with me." He replys.

Billie puts her jacket on, "C'mon"

I followed her, looking out of the window. "Finneas, you're so embarrassing," she yelled, laughing.

Finneas looked up at us and waved. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," Billie said, taking my hand and pulling me along. "bils? I don't wanna intrude."

"Don't worry," she assured me. "Finneas doesn't care. He's like my best friend."

We walked down to the parking lot and Billie runs up to him, giving him a hug. "Merry Christmas," she said.

"You too," he said, smiling. He looked at me and extended his hand. "I'm Finneas, Billie's brother."

"Y/n," I said, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, Y/n," he said. "You're the girl she's always talking about."

I blushed. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she thinks you're pretty cool," he said, winking at his sister.

Billie rolled her eyes playfully. "Let's go, we're going to be late for dinner."

We got into Finneas' car and drove to the restaurant. The whole way there, Finneas kept making jokes and Billie kept laughing, her eyes lighting up every time he said something funny.

Finneas pulls into the resteraunt's parking lot. "So, what's the deal with you two?" He asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

Billie shot him a look. "None of your business, Finneas."

"Come on," he said, grinning. "I'm your brother. I need to know these things."

"We're-" Billie interupts me "We're dating"

My eyes widened, she had never called us that before. "Yeah, that's right," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "We're dating."

"This is new?" He asks

"Yeah," she says, "uhm, today actually." She was lying so badly, but I just nodded along.

Finneas nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. "Okay, cool. I'm happy for you two."

We walked into the restaurant, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As we sat down, Billie leaned in close to me. "Sorry about that," she whispered. "I didn't know what else to say."

"It's okay," I said, smiling. "I don't mind."

Throughout dinner, we talked and laughed, the three of us getting along surprisingly well. But every time Billie touched my hand or leaned into me, I felt a warmth spread through my chest that I hadn't felt before. Maybe she was more than just a friend with benefits. Maybe she had feelings for me too.

"So, what are you doing over the break?" Finneas asked me. "Nothing really, I'll probably just stay here."

"What?" Billie exclaimed. "You can't spend Christmas alone!"

I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"You're coming to our place," she said firmly. "It's not a question."

I looked at her, surprised by the invitation. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "It'll be fun."

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. When we finished eating, Finneas dropped us off back at the dorms. "See ya," he said, waving out the window.

Billie turned to me, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "Ready for Christmas with my family?"

I nodded, feeling a sudden sense of belonging. "Yeah," I said. "I'm ready."

As we walked back to her room, she took my hand. "Thank you for tonight," she said. "I had a lot of fun."

"Me too," I said, squeezing her hand. "And I'm looking forward to spending Christmas with you and your family."

"It's gonna be great," she promised.

We reached her room, and she turned to face me. "Want to stay the night?" She asked, biting her lip.

I nodded. "I'd love to," I whispered.

We walked into her room, and she closed the door behind us.

As we laid down on her bed, she pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, "I'm so happy you're here."

I felt my heart race. "Me too, Billie," I said. "Me too."

Taglist (I forgot lmao)-@iluvapplesxh @imurmomsfavgf @hkkuugu @jjmyym @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @chrissv4mp @bla1rxoxo @ihavenoideayimhere @prettylovesickchaelis

[greatsharklamia]

Rafe x Y/N imagine

Featuring: Uni AU, Fratbro Rafe, Social Media Au

Blurb: After turning down Rafe Cameron you’ve caught his interest.

Could Rafe have been nicer? Yes. But why would he do that when it was so much more fun to be an asshole.

Or, at least that was how he felt until you turned away and crossed your arms.

He sighed, he couldn’t be mean to you. You’d shared classes together for over a year, and you’d always been sweet to everyone.

“Look, you’re cute. But I’m not a one girl kind of guy,” he comforted, his voice soft.

“Rafe,” you said, keeping your voice equally soft. “I’m not asking you out. I’m asking you for Kelces number for my friend. She likes him, but she’s shy.”

Running a hand over his buzz cut Rafe appraised you, and to his delight you meet his eyes straight on.

“What's your friends name?”

“Lucy.” You point over your shoulder to the pretty dark haired girl watching from under her eyelashes.

“Well she is his type.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Kayces number. Without pause he rattled it off, and watched as you wrote it down on your arm with a pink ballpoint pen.

“Cute,” he teased after she had repeated the number back to confirm. “I know,” you quipped backing away with a wave. You’d completed your task and now you had a text to help write.

But Rafe wasn’t done with the conversation, reaching out to grab you by the wrist. It wasn’t rough, but it did raise goosebumps due to the warmth of his hand on your winter cooled skin.

“Want to grab a drink with me,” the sentence sounded like it should have been a question, but it wasn’t. He was hot, you’d give him that, but you wanted romance and something that might turn into a relationship, not another hook up.

And so you told him that, “No thanks, I’m more of a one guy kinda girl, and I don’t share.” You gently pulled yourself from his grasp. “Catcha around.”

You didn’t turn around, instead proudly sauntering back to Lucy, victoriously raising your arm high enough that she could see the numbers written on your arm. Her smile was bright and you couldn't help but match it as she dove at you with a tight hug.

“Lets get out of the cold and come up with a text to him,” you said. As Lucy linked arms with you and started towing you toward the cafe ahead, you couldnt help but look over your shoulder to find Rafe leaned up against the building where you left him. His attention was on you with a curiosity you weren't sure of.

Though it didn’t seem like it, winter was your favourite season. Oh you’d complain and the cold made you cranky sometimes, but there was something so magical about this time of year.

It could have been Christmas. Or it could have been the snow and winter themed drinks that landed in cafes. Mostly the latter you admited to yourself as you sipped the last of your mint coffee, savouring it.

Drinking a full coffee before entering the cinema probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but it had certainly made the walk over more enjoyable.

Your friend group had decided an hour ago to see Gladiator II, and you couldn’t wait to turn your brain off for a couple of hours.

Once the tickets were paid for you all scattered, some to the bathroom, others to the concession stand. Instead you and Lucy skipped both and entered the correct cinema, choosing your seats.

It was like goldilocks and the three bears. You couldn’t be too close, or too far away. Nor could you be too far one way or too far the other way. And first comes, first served.

You both sat, pretty much right in the middle, and had the whole large room for yourself for a number of minutes until, to your surprise Rafe Cameron and some of his frat brothers walked through the door.

The second he caught sight of you it was decided. He was sitting beside you. He didn’t care where the others sat, though he had a sneaky suspicion that Kelce would be sitting beside your roommate.

“Y/N, what a shock to run into you so soon,” Rafe said with a charming smile as he walked toward you down the isle.

By the time you had realized what was happening, he’d sat down in the empty chair to your right, and was reaching into your contraband bag of lollies. You let him. As long as he didn’t eat all of your favourites then he could share your snack. And then he dropped a couple pieces of popcorn into your hand in payment. He could eat as many of your favourites as he wanted. Movie theatre popcorn was good shit.

Munching on your popcorn, you spared a thought for your friends and where they would sit, but then pushed it from your mind, they would be thrilled to sit near the frat guys.

And you were proved to be correct, when your friends entered and you saw them clock the situation. Instead of joining you, they sat a row ahead and found themselves flocked by frat boys immediately.

Free to turn your attention to the man beside you, you noticed that he was watching your shared friends as well.

“You struck me more as a Wicked person,” you teased. To your delight he laughed, but was quick to refute it. “No, at least not without my sister.”

“Cute.” You hadn’t meant to say it. It had slipped out. But the light blush that rose to his ears made you pleased you had. It was clear he didn’t know what to say, instead bringing his drink up to your face and smoothly pushing the straw into your mouth. Cola. Not your favourite, but not your least favourite either. You took another long sip, keeping eye contact with him as you debated draining the whole cup out of spite.

But then you’d have to go to the bathroom.

You let go of the straw and couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he immediately brought it up to his mouth.

The audacity of this man to be flirting with you now, after how your last interaction had ended.

Two could play at that game. You pulled your phone out and snapped a sneaky pic, posting it on insta. You didn’t have to tag him, you knew he’d see it.

Even unaware of your play, Rafe couldn’t let you have the last word. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his hand coming to rest on your opposite shoulder and burying into your hair immediately.

You’d let him win this one. You’d won the last one after all.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you lay your head on the desk in front of you and settle in to wait for the professor to turn up.

Class was filling up slowly, and the easy chatter was threatening to lull you to sleep. It had snowed heavily the night prior, and you were sure it would mean that the class would be a little empty. Even living on campus you’d been tempted to stay in bed for the day and binge netflix with your roommate, but the milk had run out in the mini fridge and coffee was calling your name.

A warm hand came to rest on the back of your neck. You jolted in surprise. Rafe.

“Hi Rafe,” You said leaning up from the desk and noticing that the class was over half fulled but no Professor had appeared.

“Y/N, now how did I not know you were in this class?” he asked. His hand didn't move from the back of your neck, he’d even gone so far as to lean back in the seat next to you and rest his arm on the back of your chair.

A yawn broke free of you, which you quickly tried to smother. “Ditto.” His expression was a cross between surprise and amusement.

You could see why. Even at a uni as big as yours he still had notoriety. It came from being a rich, hot, fuckboy. Every big party on campus had Rafe in attendance, if not just because his frat were the ones throwing the party.

Today he looked less like a frat boy, and more like a stuffed sausage. So you told him as such and had the pleasure of watching him throw his head back in laughter. To your surprise the laughter was genuine, and he looked pleased when he looked back at you.

“Well I think you look adorable,” he said. Behind him Ruthie and Topper were making a scene calling for him to come join them at the back of the room, but Rafe didn’t even turn as he waved a hand at them as if to shoo them away.

“Not sitting with your fanclub?”

From the corner of your eye you saw him smile, “Not today,” he said, and then corrected himself. “Well, I thought I’d keep it lowkey and gift one of my fan club with my presence.”

You made a show of looking around confused, but couldn't retort because the door thudded open and your professor came striding down the stairs.

And for the rest of the class Rafe sat beside you playing with the end of your ponytail which had escaped from underneath your scarf.

That afternoon when you were curled up in bed with a triple shot dirty chai, your phone dinged with a notification. And to your great horror the sight of Rafes insta story made you snort out a mouthful of coffee in laughter.

“Y/N,” the shout echoed around the courtyard and hushed the students in the general vicinity. With all eyes on him, Rafe was smug and confident as he he cut the distance between you both.

“Rafe, was there something you wanted?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Behind you your friends laughed, well aware that Rafe had taken to popping up around you. When you’d told them about your first proper interaction with him, the one that had gotten Lucy her boyfriend, they were adamant that your rebuttal of him had peaked his interest.

So far it hadn’t amounted to anything, but that remained to be seen. You were in no rush to see what would come of a flirtation with Rafe Cameron.

In the meantime however, you were having fun.

“Coming to the party tonight?” He asked.

You weren’t sure yet, and when you told him as such, he frowned, looking serious for the first time.

“What if i promise to walk you home when you’re ready to go home?”

Now this was a shock. But did help with your decision. You nodded. “If you pinky promise to walk me home tonight, then yes I’ll come. My roomates staying with Kelce, so I would have had to get home by myself.”

“Well we can’t have that can we,” he said and extended his pinky to you.

You looked at him for a beat and then gleefully extended your pinky to wrap it around his, before moving your thumb up to lock it in.

“Good. I’m late to class but I’ll see you at the party, and if you’re having trouble finding me,” he pulled a pen out of huis back pocket and wrote, in lopping, messy writing, his number. “Text me.”

And with a wink he was disappearing into the busy courtyard. With him gone you felt a little nervous about turning to face your nosy friends. They were already giggling behind you. But you had to bite the bullet, and met their amused faces as they started peppering you with questions. Anyone would think they hadn’t been there to watch the whole exchange. It was a good thing you had some time to kill before your next class.

The music was pounding, and while it was a song you normally liked, right now it was just irritating you. Four drinks in, two and a half hours later, and you were ready to go home now. It was nearing midnight, and the mass of frat boys wasn’t helping you find Rafe. How could they all look the same? Was it a prerequisite of being a frat boy? Wear a douchy cap and a white longsleeve shirt.

Two texts to him over ten minutes with no response, and a sea of tall drunk guys was all you needed to know. Finding him here would be impossible.

So, waving goodbye to your friends still on the dance floor, you stopped by the bedroom dedicated to the coat room, and picked through the chaotic mess until you had found your coat and scarf. Your phone remained silent while you pulled on your coat and let yourself out the front door into the brisk winter air.

Some brave souls were scattered around the yard, smoking or drinking or making out, but the path was clear and you were out the gate and striding down the side walk toward your dorm before Rafe realised that you were gone.

A groan left him as he passed the end of his smoke to Barry. Hands now free he pulled his phone from deep in his coat pocket and jolted to his feet.

“See ya later man,” he told Barry, who only flicked a lazy hand at him.

The two texts from you lit up the screen when he held it up to his face, and as he was reading your last text another came in.

‘Walking home now. Have a good night.’

He couldn’t tell if you were being sweet, or telling him to go fuck himself, but it didn’t matter. You were only a few metres ahead of him now.

“Y/N,” Rafe called jogging the last little while to catch up with you.

Your eyes met his for a moment, and you were sure that he could see the annoyance in your face.

“You didn’t have to walk me back home you know. A couple of the girls on my floor left an hour ago, but I stayed cause you were,” he cut you off with a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, my phone was in my coat pocket and I couldn't hear it. Before i went outside for a smoke I saw you were still having fun with your friends so I thought it would be safe.”

You wouldn’t admit it but that was sort of sweet.

“Okay,” is all you said, and the both of you fell into an easy and comfortable silence.

You hadn’t seen Rafe in a couple of days, not since he had walked you home. And what alarmed you was that you were keeping count.

Pushing any thoughts of the frat boy from your mind, you focused again on the laptop in front of you. The english assignment had been kicking your arse, mainly because you hated Shakespear. But you weren’t sure that your opinions on ‘how his time appropriate sexism weakened his works’, was going to go down with your Proffesor. You could almost picture him now; big heart eyes as he spoke about the bard.

Holding back a huff, you clicked out of the document and pulled up a different class’ assignment. Thankfully with exams rapidly approaching these were your last two assignments. You just needed to smash through them before Thursday evening. It was currently Tuesday. The coffee cup beside you was nearing empty, and the cafe was fairly quiet, a product of the early hour.

Falling into your paper on the Romans, you missed the door at the other end of the cafe open. But you became aware as a body jolted down into the seat across from you. Ripping your headphones out quickly in your fright you met Rafes eyes.

“Hi Y/N,” he seemed quieter, and sort of sad. “Do you mind if I join you?” he gestured to his bag which sat in the empty seat beside him.

“Of course.” Normally he would have just welcomed himself and set up shop wiuthout consulting you. But upon closer inspection he looked tired, and his normally clean shaven face was being taken over by stubble.

As he set up his laptop and his text book, you drunk the last of your coffee and popped to your feet. “What are you drinking?” you asked.

“I can go and get our drinks,” he said. But you shook your head. “Nope, my shout.”

For a moment it looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just asked for a mocha, and when further prompted, a blueberry muffin.

With a smile you patted him on the shoulder on your way past, and missed the small smile that grew on his face at the action. Taking the opportunity to swing by the bathroom now that your laptop had its very own protector, Rafe was settled in and typing by the time you were back.

“Want to share my headphone?” You held out the left airpod, and to no surprise he took it easily. Your study playlist consisted of artists like Lana Del Rey, and Noah Kahn, so you motioned for his phone which he handed to you without unlocking.

“Password,” you said and instead of taking it back, he rattled off the four number code. Your surprise must have been obvious because his checks pinked. “Did you know,” you started, scrolling through his phone to spotify, “we have the same password.”

You weren’t kidding either. It was an easy password, but you hadn’t yet meet someone with the same password.

By this time you’d found what you were looking for, and in a matter of moments had set up shared jams. Sliding the phone back it only took a couple of songs for the first of Rafes song to pop up. He’d surprisingly kept the calm vibes of your playlist, and only smiled slightly when you gave him a thumbs up of approval.

Once again a picture popped up on instagram that night. Posted by Rafe, it was from the cafe.

You thought about it for a moment and posted your own picture on instagram.

Rafe was quick to comment a heart in response.

It was only the next day that you saw Rafe walking alone across the campus. The sadness was back on his face, which you’d tried so hard yesterday to dispel. Without a thought you caught up to Rafe, slipping an arm through his as you slipped slightly on the frozen ground.

“Morning,” you said brightly.

He looked up from the ground, took in your smile and the arm linked with his, and something lightened in his face.

“Hi, Y/N,” His voice was still quiet, but he spared a smile.

“Where are we off to?” you asked. It might have backfired, but something told you that Rafe just needed someone in his corner at the moment.

You weren’t aware of it, but what was once a small crush he harboured for you was turning into full blown infatuation. Now he just needed to make sure he could seal the deal.

“The library, I have to drop off some books,” Rafe finally responded.

“Oh awesome, I need to get stuff for one of my exams,” you said.

Once again it struck you that it was easy with Rafe. He could be a dick, your first proper meeting could prove that, but other than that first day, he’d never been anything but nice to you. And it was starting to make you like him. More than you should have.

You knew it wouldn't go anywhere, he’d told you himself that he didn't do just one girl, but that was fine. Crushes came and went, but what you had with Rafe was shaping up to be a really good friendship.

He proved that true when you reached the library and he held the door open for you, and after dropping off his own books, followed you around holding your books. While at first you had said no, he’d taken to reaching over your shoulder and grabbing them straight out of your hands.

Again, after a while he perked up, and became more of the man you knew him to be. Even teasing you when you tripped over the edge of one of the many ancient rugs near the check out desk.

The book made a loud thump as you closed it, done with studying for exams for the day. It had been a long day, a long week really. But with one exam done, and four more to go in the coming weeks, you were trying hard not to lose steam already. Thankfully classes had finished, and already the campus was emptying with people going home for break.

Most of your friends were still here but you already knew that you would be the last man standing on campus. Not that it worried you. You weren’t going to be far behind them. And then it was only a short walk to the train station, and you’d be on a three hour long trip home. You couldn’t wait.

Close with your parents, and no siblings, your trips home were always relaxed and fun filled. Your dreams of home cooked food, and sleeping in your own bed were pushed away at the loud knock on your door.

You rose from your desk and quickly unlatched the lock, pulling the door open. It was Rafe, standing there with two coffees.

“This is for you,” he said, holding one out.

You were quick to take it, sipping the warm coffee with a humm. Having paid the tax, you stepped back and waved Rafe in. You didn’t need to wave him to your bed, it was clear which one was yours, as Lucys had photos of her and Kelce stuck to the wall at the head of the bed.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, but is everything okay?” You couldn't help but ask. Giving him a moment you closed the window and blew out the small candle sat in front of it.

When you turned to him he was watching you. It wasn’t hard to see he was still feeling a little off.

“I’m not going home for break,” he said once you’d joined him on the bed, your back against the wall.

“How do you feel about that,” you asked, sounding like a therapist.

Rafe huffed and pulled his beanie off his head roughly, tossing it on the floor near the door. “I’m mad.” And it was like the flood gates had opened. “Dad told me not to come home this break. He and his wife are heading to the Bahamas for the break. I don’t know why they couldn’t go when we’re not on school break.” You didn’t need to wonder who ‘we’ was for long. “My sister Sarah spends hardley any time at home, always with her boyfriend. We’re not super close anyway. And Wheezie, who I am close with, is going away with a friend.”

He sighed and raked a hand down his face. “It's fine, it's not like its a long break, and I’ll get the frat house to myself.”

But it sounded more like he was talking himself into being okay.

“Why can’t you go home anyway?” You asked, trying to be gentle.

“Cause Dad said not to. That means that he doesn’t want me in the house while he's not there. Probably because he doesn’t want to pay the staff for two weeks.”

That explained why he’d been so sad for the last couple of days. It didn’t matter that he was in his 20s now, his Dad still had a responsibility to not be a shit parent.

“Are you sad because you aren’t seeing your family, or because you’ll be stuck here alone?” It was a rude question. You knew it, he knew it, but it needed asking.

He moved, turning to sit criss cross on the bed facing you, so you did the same leaving only a small gap between you both. A deep sigh left him. “Mostly the second. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to relax being stuck here. I was also looking forward to visiting the beach. I wasn’t going to swim, just listen to the waves,” Quietly and a beat later, “I miss Wheezie too.”

Without hesitation you lay a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. “What do you think about going home with a friend?”

“Nah, I don’t want to be a burden.” The you of a month ago would have been so surprised to see this side of the privileged man in front of you. The you of now was touched he trusted you enough.

It was all you needed. You didn’t live super close to the beach, but close enough that the trip could be done in forty minutes. And you knew that your parents would love to have Rafe.

Without delay you leaned over to the dresser and grabbed your phone. Rafe watched, confused but quiet. Finding your moms number, you called it and put it on speaker phone.

It was a whirlwind after that. Your mom was thrilled you were bringing a friend home, and had asked Rafe a slew of questions, from what his favourite movie was, to what he liked to eat. At the end of the call she had added, “I can’t wait to see you both in a couple of weeks.”

Rafe was stunned. That wasn’t what he had expected to happen when he stood in line at the cafe earlier. Instead he had thought that you would talk him into having a fun time at the frat house by himself. Maybe he would then finally ask you out.

Instead you had absolutely wowed him. And he could see you were starting to look nervous.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. He hoped that this wouldn’t ruin your friendship, or your holiday plans. But over your interactions his feelings had only grown.

But you clearly didn’t dislike it, pulling back to smile brightly at him before leaning back in to nip at his bottom lip. With a groan he pulled you in and onto his lap.

Lucy had decided to come back to your shared dorm for the night, instead of staying with Kelce. Being loved up was so exciting, but she was missing spending time with just you.

But when she opened the door she was quick to change her mind. Flicking a text to Kelce, and then one to you she turned on her heal and tried to hold her giggles in until she was further down the hall.

From the looks of it, you and Rafe were definitely together now. Lucy thought for a moment, and then created a group chat, named it ‘Double Date’ and sent the photo she had just taken of you both.

[frostbitebakery]

There’s a room where the Light won’t find you

Surrender AU

There are certain misconceptions when it comes to the… the them of them, Cody has to admit.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says instead of answering the same question the Commander has asked him twice now. The statement sits uncomfortable under his breastbone. He lost count how often he’s had to say it in his life.

“Are you that codependent,” the replica of his mouth snarks back. Curious, usually he and his counterparts have more patience than this.

The answer to that is a definite yes. Obi-Wan and he, they’re woven together. Only Obi-Wan’s lightsaber could cut them apart. He wonders where it is after they’ve taken it from its resting place above his heart.

“You’ll protect it,” Obi-Wan had asked, voice cracking and begging, closing Cody’s palms around the weapon’s hilt. It had been after Ghost had rescued them from that hellhole, after Obi-Wan’s hands had become too weak to wield his lightsaber despite the trials of reconstructive surgeries and physical therapy.

“Like your life,” Cody had sworn, lips finally not sore anymore from the ripped out stitches, the punishments from their captors that were so much more effective when delivered on Cody than Obi-Wan himself.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says again.

The Commander pushes out a sigh. “He’s… okay.”

Debatable. Cody isn’t there and no one knows - can know - how Obi-Wan’s hands spasm after a while, how his knee is acting up. How his grip on himself has been slipping, recently. The tight control even in the chaos had held steady for so long. Because even changed like this, Obi-Wan has been a master of his own self. Until they found these counterparts at least.

They’re so Light, hammers into Cody’s head.

“General Kenobi is asking him some questions himself,” the Commander states like he’s dangling bait.

Cody sincerely wishes him good luck with that. Getting an answer to “What do you want for breakfast” is a discovery of heretofore unknown wells of patience and the higher ground most days. Honey toast, by the way. “I would like to have proof of life of my General.”

Cody, they’re so Light. Obi-Wan is alone with a beacon to the Light he’s been desperately searching for in dozens of universes. He will do something well-thought-through and stupidly risky.

The Commander watches him for a few long moments, and Cody watches right back. He doesn’t smirk in triumph when the Commander activates the comm on his vambrace.

“General, could you put—,” Cody’s mouth twitches at the Commander’s faltering, the steeling for the reality of them, “the Sith on the comm?”

A moment later Obi-Wan is in the holo. Bound but whole, because the good guys don’t believe in torture. “Are you alright?” he asks, sickly golden eyes roving over what the holo displays of Cody.

Cody smiles, softening further once Obi-Wan echoes him with his own. “Yes. You?”

There’s misconceptions about them. Other people’s delusions of knowing them seem to think Obi-Wan and he can only be brutal, be cruel and harsh. Towards everyone else, and towards each other. Trapped in a bloody dance or something rivaling that kind of stupid. Those people don’t, thankfully, know the gentleness flowing through their touches. They kiss the other in reverence, soft and precious monster. What is between them, a connection forged in blood and pain, is anything but. It’s the one thing where they’re truly selfish. Holding each other close, burrowed into each other.

When Obi-Wan had asked him what he wants, the answer had been simple and sprouting thorns.

“You,” Cody had answered, sure and steadfast.

Obi-Wan had almost flinched, cane scraping over the floor. “Even as I am now?”

Always. At every second their lives had existed in orbit to each other. Every possible face Obi-Wan had worn, Cody had wanted him. But— “I think,” he had replied, stroking the paper-thin grey skin under a yellow eye, “this is the only version I’m allowed to have.”

“I miss you,” Obi-Wan says on the holo, and Cody goes cold.

“Obi-Wan, don’t—“

The connection winks out and he knows that it was Obi-Wan, that the Force suppression cuffs must have some fault he detected and exploited.

He whips his head up, urgency clocking in inside his chest and ticking. “Stun him,” he grits out, just to not yell, and startles the Commander. “Make him unconscious any way necessary.” He swallows. “But please don’t kill him.” I need him.

[oh-meretseger]

part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the  sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Denim on Denim

A Seams x Grays crossover

Summary: Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience.

Warnings: Mildly spicy thoughts, two sexy men fighting, language, reader was a hairdresser prior to the outbreak and has a nickname related to her job, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader, very lightly edited.

This oneshot can be read independently of the two series, but for the full experience, I recommend reading at least Grays. This is a post-outbreak AU of Grays, and is set before Seams Joel leaves the QZ. Part of the Shiv's salon drabbles.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: A whole year after my random thoughts about how Joel's hair looks that good in an apocalypse and a random notif on this post that reminded of it, we finally get Joel to Shiv's salon... or do we? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I had a blast writing this oneshot - it's a bit silly, a bit spicy, I hope you enjoy it ❤️

‘Goddamnit.’

Joel swipes viciously at the curl hanging over eyes, like a boxer at a punchbag. Try as he might to slick it back, every time his shovel hits the dirt, the hair uncoils, bouncing obnoxiously in his field of vision.

He needs a fucking haircut. Tess usually does it for him every month or so, but she’s been in a mood - snapping at him, keeping him at arm’s length, she hasn’t even been to his apartment for two whole weeks.

This time of the year is hard for her. He knows all too well that he’s the same every September. They’re in each of their own time loops, a cage within the trappings of the QZ.

‘You look like you need a trim, bro.’

Joel barely glances up. He knows the guy, they share a surname after all. People call him Ben, or Benny, and even an old man like him knows he’s a good-looking son of a bitch.

They work the same shifts sometimes, and he knows Tess has crossed paths with him at the illegal fight nights. Joel has also seen him a few times at the bar, where he’s usually surrounded by even more good-looking motherfuckers.

Joel knows he’s a damn flirt too. He always has pretty words for Tess when he sees her. He’s harmless though, and he supposes that she deserves sweet nothings from at least one Miller since he’s no good at them.

Realising he hasn’t responded, Joel grunts noncommittally, self-consciousness prickling the back of his neck.

‘I know someone, she was a professional hairdresser before all this.’

Joel ignores him and keeps shovelling.

‘If you tell her you know me, she’ll give you a good rate.’

More shovelling.

‘Alright man, my shift’s up. See you ‘round.’

Five steps, and Joel sighs, digging the shovel into the dirt.

‘Wait.’

Joel stands on the doorway, and stares.

There’s an actual backwash in the corner of the dingy living room - well, living space. There are no doors in the tenement apartments.

‘You waiting for it to say hello back, or what?’

His eyes snap to yours, a scowl drawing his brows together.

Not that you look at all intimidated, one eyebrow arched high and an amused smile sitting lopsided on your lips, which he will admit throws him just a bit. He’s not used to having to work for it.

Giving you a tight nod, he takes two steps into the apartment. He recognises the layout, a mirror of his own, which is a few blocks away.

Closing the door with a flourish behind him, you ask brightly, ‘You’re here for a haircut?’

He’s about to answer when something winks at him, and he looks up, momentarily blinded by the reflection of afternoon light in the cracked mirror that hangs over a battered styling station.

Your apartment has windows that don’t look directly onto the next building, and sun floods the space. Even light is a real rarity in the shithole of a QZ, where everything indoors is dingy. He idly wonders if you had to bribe someone -

Distracted, he catches the sliver of a shadow moving from the corner of his eye a split second later than he would if he was on high alert. On reflex, his fingers find the hilt of his knife and he whips it out in a wide arc, swinging to his left where gunmetal catches the afternoon light.

‘Drop it!’ he barks, the same moment as the other man growls, ‘The fuck are you doing in my home with a knife?’

To Joel’s bewilderment, you chuckle somewhere to his right, amused. ‘C’mon guys. Dramatic, much?’

‘He snuck up on me,’ Joel growls defensively.

‘Frankie, put your gun away, dude’s just here for a haircut - I’m assuming anyway, he never did answer my question.’

‘Yes, I’m here for a haircut,’ he snaps, resheathing his knife. ‘Fuck would I be doin’ here if not?’

‘Fuck should I know, dipshit?’ retorts Frankie, tucking his gun in the back of his jeans. ‘You always bring a knife to your haircuts?’

‘D’ya always threaten to shoot paying customers?’

‘No, we definitely do not.’ You step into the space between the two men in case they get snippy with each other again. ‘Who sent you?’

Your customer crosses his arms, and you can’t help noticing the fabric of his shirt stretching across those broad shoulders. ‘Blondie.’

‘Blondie?’ you frown, confused. ‘Oh wait, you mean Ben? I thought I recognised you. I’ve seen you at one of his fights, with your wife? What’s her name now -’

‘Tess,’ he replies, then promptly looks like he wishes he’d stopped himself before he answered. ‘She’s not my -’ he trails off, and it’s clear he doesn’t like how you’re reading him at the moment, grumbling, ‘None of your damn business.’

‘Hey, you watch your mouth around my lady, old man,’ warns Frankie, ratcheting up the tension again.

Squaring his shoulders, the man seems to grow two inches. ‘Or what?’

Suddenly aware of being caught in the crossfire between your protective husband on one side, and this gruff, silvered stranger on the other, heat bubbles unbidden under your skin, the unexpected reaction from your body catching you off guard.

Biting your lower lip, you clear your throat, and somehow you sound steadier than you feel when you dispense the orders. 

‘Ok, this is enough. Frankie, sit down over there,’ you say, pointing him in the direction of the couch on the other side of the room. ‘And you - since you’re Benny’s friend, two ration cards.’

‘’M not his friend,’ he almost spits out that last word, as if it tastes weird.

You give him a pointed look. ‘Three ration cards, then.’

He huffs, and hands you two from his back pocket. ‘Fine, I’m Benny’s friend.’

You grin. ‘If you’re besties, it’s one.’

‘Don’t push it.’

You back off with a chuckle. ‘Fine, not besties. Maybe next time. Now sit.’

Joel does as he’s told, awkwardly, in the styling chair, a relic from the pre-outbreak days. It creaks dangerously under his weight, and it wobbles, slightly off-kilter. The cracked leather is warm from the sun, which seeps into his skin, and he finds himself wondering when was the last time he went to a hair salon.

Sarah used to love cutting his hair. She always made an afternoon out of it on one of his rare days not working overtime, putting the music on, setting up her Barbie mirror on the dining room table, and having him pick out a hairstyle from a magazine (it never looked anywhere near like the photos). She’d even put a disposable raincoat over him like a hairdresser’s cape. She really wasn’t any good, there’s a reason why Tommy didn’t let her anywhere near his curls, but he always wore her handiwork with pride -

So lost in his thoughts, he reacts purely on instinct when, for the first time in decades, fingers other than his own find his hair.

Swivelling around, he’s out of the chair in a split second, fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. You yelp as he pushes you back against the wall, which he sees from the shape of your lips but doesn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears.

Joel barely holds you there for a second before he’s yanked backwards by a hand on the back of his collar, and he stumbles, crashing into the adjacent wall. He barely misses the fist heading towards his face, ducking just in time to save himself what would undoubtedly have been a broken nose.

He barrels into the younger man with his shoulder, expecting him to tumble back, and is surprised when he doesn’t budge. Joel’s aware he’s got a few years on him, but he more than holds his own against punks that age on the daily. This guy clearly has a background in combat, and it’s taking Joel everything to stay on his feet.

In the meantime, you’re still plastered against the wall, dazed by your customer’s reaction. Heck, you haven’t even gotten his name yet before he literally jumped you. He’s a skittish one, that’s for sure. 

You smile at the memory of Frankie’s first time with you at the salon - he’d give this guy a good run for his money. Lucky for him, you’ve always been good at wrangling the nervous ones.

Speaking of, the two men are now literally wrestling in front of you. If you had to venture a guess by the grays in the hair, you reckon your customer is pushing fifty. He’s built like a fucking tank though, and he’s giving everything he’s got.

So you decide to watch for a little while. Boys will be boys, best leave them to let off some steam. Leaning against the wall, you get comfortable, and you think wistfully to yourself that Ashton would have loved this view.

You’re not sure how you missed that they’re both wearing denim on denim, and you would struggle to pick out which is your husband if not for the hat on his head. Yes, the damn cap survived the apocalypse with him.

They are remarkably similar in build, though your customer seems to stand just a couple of inches taller. His biceps flex and bulge through the shirt sleeves as he scuffles with Frankie, teeth bared; meanwhile, your husband plants his feet, jeans stretched tight over his adorable little ass, trying to hold the man back long enough to throw a punch.

If the room was warm when they were trading barbs, it’s positively sweltering right now.

All you can see are broad shoulders and fabric bursting at the seams, grappling fingers and clenched fists. Back muscles rippling through denim, teasing slivers of skin and soft bellies when shirttails ride up and jeans fall low. The cheerful afternoon sun kisses their skin golden, casting long shadows across the creaking wooden floor.

And they’re not quiet. Throaty grunts as they jostle, panted breath peppered with cusses, fuck’s and sons of bitches as they wrestle for control.

Suddenly, you’re the one who’s out of breath despite not moving a muscle.

As much as you would’ve loved to stand and watch, you can tell both men are starting to get winded. You don’t exactly want the show to end, entertainment is hard to come by in the QZ, let alone of such a visually stimulating variety, in your own living room. But you think you hear the older man wheeze, their shirts are now stained with sweat, and the frantic energy they started with turns heavy with lethargy.

With a rueful sigh, you speak up, ‘Frankie, come on, that’s enough now.’

He growls, ‘No fucking way. He tried to hurt you!’

‘He barely touched me. It was just his PTSD acting out.’

‘I don’t have PTSD,’ the man protests, shooting you a glare before dodging an elbow.

‘There’s no shame in having PTSD,’ you admonish him. ‘Or in getting help.’

‘Why don’t you give me a hand then?’ he scoffs, tipping his head at Frankie.

‘Yeah, looks like you can use it,’ your husband taunts him.

‘Sure you can’t, asshole? Can’t even take down an old man on your own?’

‘I hope you're hungry, 'cause you're gonna eat your words, asshole -’

Hands on hips, you roll your eyes at the exceedingly average trash talk. ‘You know what? I tried asking nicely - I’m going in.’

It’s a tight squeeze, but somehow, you find a space between the elbows and shoulders and knees, and you wedge yourself in. It’s hot and humid between the two men, who are still trying to get at each other, despite the fact that you now have one hand on each of their chests, trying to pry them apart. Trapped between the two solid walls of chest, their raw strength vibrates through you, through harsh panting breath, the musk of sweat and man, and denim rubs rough on your bare skin where you’re pressed up against them.

It’s not hard to imagine being in this position in an entirely different situation, with the axis tilted, on a softer surface. Heat prickles all over you like needles, and unbeknownst to you, your thighs press together, and your panties start to feel sticky -

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ asks Frankie, incredulous as he looms over you, still grabbing onto the other guy’s shirt.

You bat your eyelashes at him, then crane your neck over your shoulder to wink at the other man. A little spiral of a curl dangles over his eyes as he glares at you, puffs of warm air hitting the shell of your ear. 

Knowing that your best chance of breaking off this nonsense is to wildly offend both men, you purr, ‘Making a delicious sandwich ‘cause I’m famished -’

Frankie flushes bright red instantly, and he roars, ‘Get your filthy hands off my wife, son of a bitch!’

Not that his hands are anywhere near you (a tragedy), nonetheless, the man jumps five feet back, as if you burned him. He may deny Tess being his wife, but the look of absolute horror of being accused of touching you speaks volumes.

You can tell he would have doubled over catching his breath, hands on his knees, if not for his pride. Stubbornly, he stands tall, hands on hips, chest heaving.

‘Bit jumpy, are we?’ you quip.

‘You always that handsy?’ he retorts.

‘Can’t help myself with beautiful curls like yours,’ you wink, and your smile widens when he flushes.

Frankie throws up his hands in disbelief. ‘Shiv, I’m standing right here.’

‘You always are,’ you tease, pressing a kiss to his pinched lips. ‘Now, go take a walk, you've made enough of a scene.’

‘I’m not leaving you here with him -’

The older man scoffs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your woman.’

You feign indignation. ‘Hey! That’s hurtful.’

‘You should be, jackass!’ Frankie gripes, and promptly looks as confused as the other man at his own pronouncement.

Taking his hand, you pull him towards the door. ‘Go on babe, you were going to have a drink with Pope anyway. I got everything under control.’

‘Alright,’ Frankie relents, but not before he points a menacing finger at your customer. ‘If he tries anything -’

‘I know where the gun is,’ you finish his sentence.

Pressing one final kiss to your lips and throwing a glare over your shoulder, Frankie turns and leaves - and you preen at the knowledge that he trusts you can take care of yourself.

Once the door closes, you smile. ‘So… should we start over?’

 The man snorts. ‘I’d say.’

‘I’m Shiv,’ you say, but you don’t offer him your hand. He doesn’t seem to be the handshaking type.

He picks up on your perception, studying you with curious eyes. ‘Joel.’

Pushing the swivel chair back to the styling station, you gesture at him to retake his seat, and this time, you make sure his eyes are on yours in the mirror while you stand over his shoulder.

‘Hair’s a bit long, huh?’ you remark, eyeing the ringlet over his eyes.

‘It’s drivin’ me nuts,’ he admits.

You hold up your hands this time, giving him plenty of notice. ‘May I?’

He nods, and you start small, wrapping the spiral around your index finger with a grin. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y’know. You do have beautiful hair.’

He shifts awkwardly, the chair squeaking, obviously uncomfortable with compliments. ‘Dunno. I’m all gray and shit.’

‘As someone wise once said, grays are sexy as fuck,’ you assure him. Running your fingers through his curls, you study the texture critically, noting the blunt ends and uneven thickness. Nothing a professional haircut can’t fix. ‘Trust me, I’m very wise.’

He hums, unconvinced, but you can see the lines around his eyes crease in amusement. ‘If you say so.’

You wink at him in the mirror. ‘When I’m done with you, Tess will have the hardest time keeping her hands to herself.’

‘What makes you think she doesn’t already?’

It takes you a moment to unfreeze, stunned by his retort. At his arched eyebrow, you burst into laughter. ‘You’re a sassy one, aren’t you, Joel?’

He huffs, half-amused, and shakes his head. ‘It’s a haircut, not a miracle.’

You squeeze his shoulder, grinning when he doesn’t jump at the contact. ‘Trust me, I’m just that good at my job.’

More notes: If you enjoyed this oneshot, I wrote a series of drabbles of Shiv giving other Pedro boys haircuts - you can find them in the Grays masterlist 🩶 I may write more for this universe and some point if inspiration strikes again, thank you for reading!

And if you wanted an inspo shot of Joel's hair, here you go ❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

[jobean12-blog]

The Road to Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 3,008

Summary: You work at the local bar and things are usally pretty boring and quiet until you get a new customer who appears to be a grump but when it comes to you it’s a whole different story...

Author’s Note: So Pedro’s new Esquire shoot nearly killed me but also inspired me and thanks to my lovely friends @beccablogsthings​ @laineyreads​ @justkinsey​ for sharing their amazing brains and thoughts I did my first AU with Joel. And thank you to my sweet Ali @flordeamatista​ for sharing some extra goodies with me to help! This one photo belong just screamed Biker AU, between the tight pants and leather jacket...I mean🥵Anyway, enough of my rambling! Thank you all so much for reading! Much lovel always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweets🥰

Warnings: softness and fluff, lots of flirting and protective!Joel 

Thanks to Esquire for the photo below: 

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Why are biker dudes always so grumpy?”

You turn to your friend Jade and it takes you a moment to realize why she made her comment. You follow her line of sight to the small group of bikers that are playing pool at the back end of the bar.

“They look like they’re having fun,” you reply.

“Not that guy,” Jade says, discreetly motioning to the one sitting on the last stool closest to the pool tables.

His legs are spread wide under the bar top, his jeans clinging to his thick thighs like a second skin and his heavy black leather boots resting on the stool’s bottom bar. The leather jacket he’s wearing is tight along his broad shoulders and worn and soft looking in all the right places.

You don’t answer her and keep your eyes on him, unabashedly letting your gaze wander down his body and back up again.

When you reach his face he’s staring back.

And he smirks.

“Ok never mind,” Jade giggles. “He smiles but apparently only at you.”

You give him a small wave and smile before turning to your friend. “What?”

“Exactly,” she answers with a grin. “Do you know him?”

“Oh she knows him,” you other friend Dan sings as he whizzes by, precariously balancing several drinks in his hands.

“Who?” you ask, still lost in your haze of lewd thoughts.

“The biker dude…the one that only smiles at you,” Jade repeats. “Dan says you know him.”

“Dan…?”

Dan runs by again. “You know…your biker boyfriend that’s been coming in every weekend for the last month. Poor Jade has been missing out on all the fun because she usually works weeknights.”

Dan’s gone again before you can add that the hot biker is not your boyfriend. Unfortunately.

“Oh,” you exclaim as you move down the bar and grab empty glasses. “That’s Joel…and he’s not a dude. That, my friends, is a man.”

“Mm you’re right,” Jade agrees, grinning harder. “And you clearly have the hots for him.”

“What?” you say again, the empty beer mugs clanking in your hands.

“She so does,” Dan says, blowing you a kiss before he starts helping a customer.

“Is it possible for you to form a coherent thought when he’s in the same room?” Jade teases.

You huff and blow a raspberry in her direction. “It’s Dan’s fault. He keeps doing fly bys!”

Both you and Jade cover your mouths to stifle your giggles and Dan looks over with his own mischievous smile.

After cleaning up the bar and collecting any stray tips you slide up next to Jade as she fills some mugs.

“I think the biker dudes,” and you laugh after saying it, “need some refills.”

“Great, that’s all you babe,” she says. “I have to see this.”

You roll your eyes and saunter over to the pool tables, making your rounds and asking who wants what. When you reach Joel he leans back on his stool, one large hand still curled around his glass of whiskey and the other now resting on his thigh.

“Hey sunshine,” he says.

“Hi Joel. Can I get you another?”

Your eyes slide to his empty glass before settling back on his face. He studies you, his eyes glittering.

“How much longer is your shift?” he asks.

“Another hour or so,” you answer, raising your brows at his seemingly random question.

“Then I’ll have another,” he says, nodding his head in thanks.

You reach for his empty glass, your fingers brushing along his rough knuckles and you suck in a breath at the sensation, your lips parted when you catch his knowing smile.

You hurry off and try to brush past Jade but she follows you all the way down the bar with Dan in tow.

“He’s still smiling,” she says with glee.

“HE IS!” Dan squeals.

“Is he?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yep,” Jade replies, popping the p.

With a new glass of whiskey you walk back to Joel, trying to ignore the feel of your friends eyes on your back and their distant chatter.

“Here you go, anything else?” you ask him.

“Thanks sunshine,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass as he takes a long sip.

His neck muscles flex with every swallow and you watch the chords shift as he tilts his head back, finishing it in one long gulp.

“I’ll take one more,” he winks and licks his lips.

“You got it,” you breathe out and practically run off, forgetting to take his empty glass.

After serving Joel his third drink you check on the other guys before making the rest of your rounds. Once everyone has a drink in hand you start to wipe down the bar.

“We need some music,” Jade says when she starts to help.

Dan agrees with enthusiasm and you say, “good idea. I’ll be right back.”  

You walk toward the old Juke Box and start to shuffle through the songs.

Just when you think you’ve decided on a song you feel a presence behind you and turn to see your ex smiling at you.

“Jeff?”

“Hey baby,” he croons, reaching for you.

You step out of his grasp and put some distance between the two of you.

He makes a face, his expression losing it’s smile and turning hard.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone mocking.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, taking a step back for every step he takes toward you.

“Came to see you,” he drawls. “Missed you.”

“Jeff,” you warn. “It’s over. It’s been over. You need to leave.”

You don’t even notice that the bar’s gone quiet and everyone is watching the scene unfold. Jade and Dan rush out from behind the bar to go to you but Joel stands from his seat and motions for them to stay put.

Jeff reaches for you again, this time wrapping his large hand around your arm and yanking you closer.

“Don’t embarrass me baby,” he growls.

“Get your hands off of me,” you hiss, trying to pull away.

“You heard her,” a gruff voice says from bedside you. “Hands off.”

You turn to see Joel standing next to you, his expression cold and hard as he stares at Jeff.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jeff asks, looking Joel up and down.

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel answers, folding his large arms across his chest. “She doesn’t want you touchin’ her. Now get your hands off her before I break ‘em.”

Jeff’s grip loosens with his surprise and you rip yourself away.

Joel eyes shift to you.  “You ok darlin’?”

You nod and take a step toward Joel.

“This your new man?” Jeff snarls as he clenches his fists.

“That’s none of your business,” Joel answers for you. “Now get out.”

Without warning Jeff lunges at Joel but he’s not quick enough and before you can even figure out what happened, Jeff is laid out on the floor, holding his jaw and muttering curses. The rest of the bikers are now standing behind Joel, their expressions menacing as Joel bends down and gets into Jeff’s face.

“She doesn’t want you anymore. And when a lady tells you to get your hands off, you get your hands off…you understand me?”

Jeff just stares at Joel with hatred, his teeth gritted.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growls.

Jeff’s eyes move to the rest of the bikers and he sits up, spitting on the floor.

“Yea, I heard ya,” he grunts. “She ain’t worth it anyway.”

Jeff jumps to his feet and gives you one last disgusted look before striding out of the bar. Joel goes to follow him but you grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

His face softens and he closes his fingers around yours.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks again.

“Where are you going?”

“He can’t talk to you like that,” Joel grits out, taking a step away.

“Please,” you say quietly. “He’s the one that’s not worth it.”

Joel studies you for a long moment, his gaze intense and when he sees your eyes start to water he tilts his head in understanding and gently wraps an arm around your waist.

“Alright sunshine. I won’t. But if I ever see him come near you again…”

“I give you permission to totally kick his ass,” you say, trying to hide your face as you wipe away a stray tear.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, pulling you away from the Juke box toward a more secluded spot. “It’s ok darlin. He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Joel glances at your arm but thankfully there are no marks where Jeff grabbed you.

“No, just scared me more than anything.”

“Ok then,” Joel says softly. “You ok to finish your shift?”

“Yea definitely. It’s a good distraction.”

Joel smiles and you lean into him, the smell of spice and leather enveloping your senses, and kiss his scruffy cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime sunshine,” he says with a wink.

Once Dan and Jade are convinced you’re ok they both start swooning over how Joel stepped in and punched Jeff.

“I wish I could have seen it,” you say almost dreamily. “I was just so stunned by it all it never even registered.”

“Well, I saw it,” Dan says, “and let me tell you…it was HOT.”

You see Jade glance behind you and your eyes go wide.

“Will you two quit it! He’s going to think I’m crazy!” you chide.

The rest of your shift is uneventful and as you’re walking out of the back room, bag in hand, you search for Joel but much to your disappointment you don’t see him anywhere in the bar.

“He walked out while you were getting your things,” Jade says lightly, as if she can sense your disappointment. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Yea,” you answer vaguely. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

You hug Dan and Jade before walking toward the door, your head down as you start to make your way down the street.

“Where are you runnin’ off to sunshine?”

At the sound of Joel’s voice you whirl around and find him leaning against his motorcycle.

“Home,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

His legs are crossed at the ankles and his hands are resting along his bike. His mussed hair moves gently in the light breeze and his jacket is unzipped to reveal his tight black tee beneath.

He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“Let me give you a ride,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen and he pushes off the bike, walking over and standing in your space.

He reaches up to take your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to gently press them against your palm. That’s when you see his knuckles, torn up and crusted with dried blood.

“Joel,” you gasp, flipping your hand to hold his and delicately grazing his knuckles.

He slowly follows your gaze, offering you a lopsided smirk before he assures you, “I’m fine sunshine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“But you need to clean it and wrap it,” you tell him closing your hand around his.

“Let me take ya home and then I’ll get it taken care of.”

“I’ve never ridden a bike before,” you admit.

Joel dips his head, brushing his lips along your jaw before they meet your ear.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, darlin.”

Your lips part with your inhale and when he brings his head back and meets your eyes you tremble at the heat you find simmering.

Joel tears his eyes away to grab his helmet from the handlebars and puts it on your head. He fixes the straps carefully and gently, like you’re precious, and it makes you feel warm all over.

“You’re gonna need a jacket too,” he says.

“I didn’t bring one. It’s usually warm when I walk home.”

“You can have mine.”

He shrugs off his leather jacket and rests it over your shoulders, the worn and soft leather molding to your body and wrapping you in his distinct scent.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him without a jacket or long-sleeved shirt and when you catch sight of the tattoos lining his sculpted arms it just about sends you reeling.

You breathe out a curse.

“You okay?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips.

“I like your ink,” you tell him, reaching out to trace your fingertips over one of the pieces that covers his bicep.

“You should see the rest of them,” he simpers.

His muscle flexes under your touch and you instinctively dig your fingers into his skin.

“I’d like that,” you hum.

This time he mutters a curse and starts to help you into his jacket, zipping it up slowly and stopping just below your collarbone.

“That should keep ya warm enough,” he muses, looking you over.

“I like you in my jacket,” he murmurs, letting his eyes linger before he checks the straps on your helmet one more time.

Then he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth before he turns and throws one long leg over his bike.

You tell him your address and get on behind him, having seen enough movies to know that much, and spread your legs wide to accommodate the large bike and his hips.

Unsure of where to put your arms you’re thankful when he grabs your hands and pulls them around his middle.

“Hold on tight, sunshine,” he says. “Tap my stomach if you need me to stop and watch the pipes, they get hot.”

He looks down at the large chrome pipes on the side of the bike.

“Okay,” you reply, your voice slightly shaky with nerves.

You bury your face against his back, the thin material of his tee shirt doing little to hide the muscles beneath but before you can really enjoy the feeling the bike roars to life and he pulls away from the sidewalk.

Your whole body vibrates with the action and the sensation makes you squeeze him tighter. You can feel his laughter just before he opens the throttle and takes off.

He takes the long way to your house and when he slows down and kills the engine you still don’t let go of him.

With a press of his palm to your hands you reluctantly let go, your legs wobbly as you try to hop off the bike. He quickly grabs your waist and helps you off, sliding one hand along your arm until he holds your hand in his.

“So?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

“That was kinda fun…I’d do it again.”

At that, he gives you a real smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s good sunshine. I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want.”

His last words come out like a purr and you’re glad for the hold he has on your hand to keep you standing upright.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and lower your lashes, tugging him toward your house. You stop at the door and pull your bag in front of you, searching for your keys.

“I can’t seem to find my damn…” you start to mutter, ready to turn your bag over and dump it out.

With a frustrated sigh you turn to face him, finding very little space between your bodies. You realize there is nowhere to go as you press yourself into the door, Joel’s body almost touching yours.

The first thing you feel is the strength of his hand around your bicep and the other wrapping around your neck as he drags you closer and covers your mouth with his.

Your bag drops to the floor and you cling to him, the smell of him, the feel of his hands on your body holding you against him and it all overpowers you and you make a throaty sound you can’t control.

His hand at the back of your neck tightens and he groans low, the sound of it skimming down your spine. His kiss grows deeper and more demanding, long enough to steal your breath and you slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back only an inch to look into your eyes. His own are dark, his lashes lowered over them as he traces his lips with his tongue. His hands settle at your waist and he rests his forehead to yours.

“Joel?” you whisper.

When he lifts his head he gently releases you, his eyes washing over you with a slightly pained expression.  

“I’m a gentleman,” he says with a wry smile. “Let me at least take you out first.”

Everything about him screams that he wants to kiss you again but somehow he keeps his distance.

“Right, a date,” you says breathlessly.

“Fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy hair.

Before you’ve fully recovered from the first kiss he has you pressed against the door again, his thumb tucked under your chin as his lips trail down the column of your neck. His hands slide lower, stroking your curves as his lips find the spot just below your ear and he whispers, “if I don’t go now…”

“Right…a gentleman…” you gasp, arching into him.

He pulls away, his eyes telling you everything he’s thinking.

Your knees are wobbly and you catch the doorframe with a sigh.

“Thank you again. For coming to my rescue.”

“Like I said, anytime sunshine,” he reminds you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow…”

It’s more of a question than a statement and for a brief moment you see a soft vulnerability flicker across his features.

“Of course,” you answer. “My shift starts at five.”

You lift your hand, brushing your fingers through his beard and then running them across the lines of his face, feeling the softness of his lips beneath your thumb. He reaches up and catches your hand, tugging it to his mouth and kissing across your knuckles.

“See you then sunshine and keep the jacket.”

@justkinsey @sstan-hoe​ @blackwidownat2814​

[sturnsdc]

ART CLASS AU!

pair: Carl Grimes x fem!reader

synopsis: Yn has feelings for her classmate, Carl, but she never does anything about it. However, things seem to work in her favor when they have to work on a project together for the art class.

warnings: no TWD scenes, just fluff, slight angst, somewhat obsessive behavior ??

words: 2,4k

A/N: to make the narration clearer: at all times, Yn is writing in her diary, which is why at times she will speak about Carl, and at other times it may seem like she’s speaking directly to him (but she’s not)!! For the most part, it’s just a bunch of fragments from her diary, as she explains a bit at the end.

this came to my mind suddenly; i apologize for it being so short.

the words in italics are the lyrics of the song !!

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

main masterlist carl masterlist

YN´S POV

you look pretty good today

is it me or did you shave?

sometimes i wonder if it's normal, if it's real. With each passing day, he seems to become more handsome, and like a magnet, he keeps drawing my gaze again and again. It feels like i can't control it.

i notice when he wears a new shirt, or when he’s wearing the same pants from a few days ago. I notice when he forgets something, when he’s focused, or when he gets distracted.

i just can’t stop noticing him.

good, you've been looking at me twice as more

so i can see your face

when we make eye contact, i feel like i’m going to die. My heart races, my cheeks turn red, my hands sweat, and i stop breathing. Even my stomach tightens, my whole body tenses up. The first time it happened, i thought i was having an attack.

secretly, i enjoy it because when i feel his gaze, i have an excuse to turn my head, look at him, and smile. I don’t even know where i find the courage, but he smiles back at me, with tight lips, then looks away after a few seconds.

my friends told me not to overthink it, that maybe i’m just misinterpreting things. They say if “i keep analyzing every time we make eye contact”, i’ll end up falling for him, and then he’ll break my heart by not feeling the same way.

you sit across from me in the classroom

but do you even know my name?

then i tried to avoid him. He probably doesn’t even know who i am. Does he even know my name? i doubt it; they hardly ever say it out loud in class. I don’t even know everyone else’s names.

but then everything seems to align, and the teacher walks to that side of the room while giving the lesson, as if she knows i’m following her with my eyes. And there he is, on the other side of the classroom, in his plaid shirt and with those pretty eyes, taking notes on everything she’s saying… while i lose my breath and forget what i was listening to.

Carl... i do know your name.

if you want to ask me how i am

don't hesitate

it was a couple of days after the teacher announced the final project. The art class would have to hold a fair, showcasing our own works, from paintings to ceramics. It had to be in pairs, but we couldn’t pick our usual partners. We had to step out of our bubbles and take a risk.

i thought about him, but my embarrassment consumed me, so i let the days pass. And just two days before the next class, i ran into him in the hallway. He seemed surprised. His blue eyes looked at me in a strange way, almost like he was unsure of something. Then he made a move to come closer, and i started to get nervous.

he did it; i didn’t expect him to. He spoke to me, asked if we could pair up, and all i could do was say yes, with a dazed look and stumbling over my words. Then he smiled, like i’d never seen him smile before. His face lit up, and he walked away, happy.

did i do the right thing? how am i gonna focus if i could barely even speak to him?

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

i have to admit, Carl Grimes is a special guy. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the little details i’ve noticed, about the brief interactions we’ve had. It’s like my world is starting to revolve around him.

he’s a gentleman—so masculine yet so gentle. He speaks to me with such care, even though i’ve seen him outside of class, joking roughly and arguing with his friends. He’s the complete opposite.

i like this side of him, when he focuses all his attention on me, asks for my opinion, and smiles at me. I haven’t seen him talk like that with anyone else. 

should i get my hopes up?

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

we started talking about the project.

he’s so smart, coming up with amazing ideas, and i stress over not knowing which one to choose. however, he doesn’t seem worried; he waits for my answer patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, which isn’t true since we have to submit the work plan by the end of the class. but he doesn’t pressure me—he asks for my opinion on each idea and helps me weigh the pros and cons.

we chose one together, and then i started writing our plan.

but… something… feels off. We keep making eye contact, and i smile like a fool, watching as he does the same. Is this really happening? i feel like we’re in a bubble. time no longer exists, air isn’t even necessary—just us.

and then i find myself hoping that he feels the same, because i love how it feels to talk to him, to be the center of his attention, even if just for a moment.

an art class

an art class

art class used to be my escape from other subjects, a room where i felt safe. Then i saw him, and it became more than just that. Thinking about art class sends tingles through my body and instantly puts a smile on my face. My heart races like crazy, and i’m filled with excitement. And it’s all because of him.

now, art class has become something that makes me genuinely happy, motivating me to go to school.

even with the project, i’ve never been this excited to work on an assignment before, but now that i’m at his house, meeting his dad and his sister, and then heading to his room to start working on our project… i feel like i love classwork.

why do you always stick to smiling

and sit still being so quiet?

i feel like he's in the hallways more often now, because i see him every day. Sometimes i'm just turning a corner, and there he is, with his group of friends, laughing and being the smiley guy i used to see only once in a while. 

he's everywhere, all the time. What's going on?

now it's impossible not to notice him, because he's always there. Sometimes i don't even have to see him, because i can hear his laugh, or his friends', and i know we’re in the same place. 

how can he be so loud, but so damn quiet in class? i don’t get it.

it's like a completely different version of him, but i don't mind at all, it's just... weird. 

i've been pretty distracted for some days

and it's ruining my diet

the days go by, and each time i get to know him more and more. He's amazing, funny, super smart, mature, and adorable. I've also gotten to know his family better, and i understand more where that calm and controlled side he shows in class comes from.

everything seems wonderful, and i know my feelings are only growing with each passing minute, but he's starting to occupy my mind all the time, and that's becoming a problem.

my friends talk during lunch, but all i can think about is our conversation from the day before, when we got sidetracked from the project, and he started explaining the story of one of his comics. I can remember how his eyes lit up as he told me about it, and i just kept asking questions, even though i already knew the stories. I love the passion with which he spoke about it. I remember his tone of voice, the way he moved his head, and how his eyes looked at me so attentively. I recall almost every word, but then, when my mind is at its peak, i see my friends getting up from their seats, looking at me with puzzled and concerned faces.

lunch ended, and i didn’t even touch my food.

Carl Grimes, i need to figure this out soon.

if you don't take the hint already

i'm afraid i'll start a riot

i’m trying to figure out if it’s just me, Carl, but i really don’t understand—do you look at me the way i look at you?

now i try to avoid looking at you if i don’t have to, but then i feel a constant gaze, and when i turn my head, there you are, trying to look away as quickly as you can. Am i imagining this?

i feel the frustration building inside me, Carl. I need to know.

today, i try wearing different clothes, the ones i save in my closet for occasions outside of class, the ones i wear when i feel confident. But this time, i don’t feel that way. This time, i’m scared. I want you to notice. I want to know if you care, if you’ll say something.

'cause you make my whole world go crazy

yeah, your smell just sends me flying

and you did, Carl. You told me i looked good, then you got nervous and said i always look good, just that this time i looked different. If you only knew how much that meant to me.

since then, days have gone by, and i feel like you’re paying more attention to me— or have you always done that and i’m just now noticing?

you also started wearing a new cologne; it’s stronger and lingers in the air when you pass by me. Is that on purpose? now i can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, and that alone is enough to keep me floating, my mind in paradise, thinking about how much i like you.

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

today i told my friends how i feel about you. They looked at me with pity and talked to me like i was a little girl. They say you don’t feel the same, that i’m imagining everything, and that i’ll end up hurt if i keep this up.

am i really that out of my mind? they say i’m obsessed, that i’m seeing things where there aren’t any.

but they were the ones who told me the first time you looked back at me.

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

i've spent some nights crying, and now i’m trying to avoid you. It's so hard when we still have to keep working on the damn project.

i’m scared of getting my hopes up. I started this on my own. you’re not to blame, but now i wish i didn’t have to see you for a couple of weeks.

an art class

an art class

and yet, that day of the week arrives, and along with the anxiety, i can feel the excitement trying to break free. My heart races, my hands sweat, and i can’t catch my breath.

“art class,” says the sign on the door, and just that is enough to shake my entire world and bring back the feelings i’m trying to ignore.

all my days

been trying to find a reason to stay

i keep hearing my friends' words every time i see you, and now i feel guilt, embarrassment, and a horrible pain in my chest that settles in my heart, right next to the happiness you bring me. It makes me feel sick and confused.

you've asked me a couple of times if i'm okay, but how could i answer you with the truth?

say my name

and i'll go ahead and pick a date

i'm okay

if you understand that this is fate

the day of the exhibition arrived, and i’m nervous, and you notice it, so you take my hand and smile at me. You told me everything would be fine, that we did great, and that we would do really well.

you were right. Of course you were...

we spent the whole day there, answering questions and receiving compliments. We really did a good job, and everyone keeps saying that.

now i feel exhausted. All day i had to manage my emotions—the mix of anxiety, the pain in my chest, happiness, satisfaction... and love, the damn love. I feel like handling all that drained me more than talking to so many people and repeating the same words over and over.

finally, we can leave, but then you take my hand again and make me look at you. This time you look more serious, and i start to get scared, but you don’t say anything bad.

“i’m going to be honest, Yn, i loved working with you on this and getting to know you better. Since i saw you in class, something about you caught my attention, but i didn’t know how to approach you. This was the perfect opportunity, and i took it. I understand if you don’t feel the same way i do, but if you do... i’d like to get to know you more and see what can come of this.” that’s what you said, your face blushing and your eyes looking everywhere but at me.

if you only knew that when i got home, i cried, feeling so happy, kicking my legs on the bed like a tv character, and squealing into my pillow so no one would hear me. with my face red and a huge smile.

now we’re going on a date, and i just hope this turns out well.

Carl Grimes, what have you done to me?

art class

art class

i don’t even know when i started smiling, but i finished reading aloud and looked around. Carl, beside me, was smiling widely, and our two little ones had tears in their eyes; apparently, they were moved by the story of how it all began.

i recently found my diary from when i was a teenager, and i told Carl about it in front of the girls, and they both begged me to read it to them. Of course, i paused at the perfect part, at the true beginning of our relationship, but within those pages is everything, including the story of our first time and countless anecdotes from our school days.

i will always be grateful for that class because that’s how i got to know the man who makes me happy.

Carl Grimes is more than my words can describe, but i think i did a good job explaining how i fell for him.

who would have thought that a couple of years later, this would be our life?

in the end, maybe it was part of our destiny.

taglist: @jamiesturniolo

[koshkamartell]

Training Day

summary: one shot set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous. My first submission for @romanarose's Dead Dove December fic event, I'm so excited for this challenge!

warnings: degradation, noncon oral sex, noncon PIV, talk of anal, forced DP training, reader is feminine but not described, slut shaming, unspecified age gap between reader and the Miller brothers, manipulative!Joel, mean!Tommy, good cop/bad cop dynamics, brat taming.

word count: 7,700

You had a long day at work, forced to work overtime to complete the workload left by several colleagues that were out of the office on sick leave. Your feet were aching from tottering around in your heels all day. You had spent the whole drive home fantasising about the luxurious bubble bath you were going to have once you reached the house you shared with Joel. He had finished work early today and you couldn't wait to cuddle up with him and order take out, maybe watch a movie until you passed out on the sofa curled against his chest.

But when you arrived home and walked through the front door, you were immediately met with the unmistakeable sound of company. Male company. The intermingling of loud voices, laughter, clinking of bottles, and the obnoxious commentary of some sports program playing on the television. Suspiciously similar sounds to guys night. 

You frowned. Joel hadn't said anything about seeing the guys tonight. What was going?

You trotted down the hallway and into the living room, the clicking of your heels along the ground alerting whoever was there of your presence. When you appear at the entrance of the loungeroom, your heart sinks with disappontment.

Joel was sitting on the sofa, manspread with a beer in one hand, inbetween his brother Tommy and one of their friends Mike. There were two more men in the armchairs and one sprawled on the floor by the couch. When they saw you they all turned to greet you warmly. 

"Hey baby," Joel said, glancing from the television to you. He took a swig of his beer. "How was work?"

"Hey." You gave him a small, tight smile. "It was long."

"Hi sweetheart," Tommy sang out, tilting his head up in a gesture of acknowledgement. He gave you one of his charming smiles, his brown eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. You always liked the younger Miller brother, the more charismatic and sociable one of the duo. "How are ya?" 

"Pretty tired," you sighed softly.

You catch Tommy and two of the other men look you up and down discreetly, and you know they are checking you out. You feel strange, oddly on display. Your black skirt sits just above the knee, displaying the smooth length of your stocking clad legs. Your white blouse is fitted and accentuates your breasts, the buttons straining against your chest deliciously. You wear a smartly tailored black jacket that doesn't hide anything, instead complimenting the curves of your body. Despite not being overly revealing, you know the outfit tends to have a favourable effect on most men. 

Tommy is more bolder than the other men, letting his gaze rest on your eyes as he lifts his hips ever so slightly to readjust his crotch. You blush and look away from him and clear your throat. "Uhm, so, did I miss something? Is it boys night tonight?"

"Game's on," one of the men said vaguely, as if that explained anything. You roll your eyes.

"Joel?"

Joel turns from the television to you and sees the unimpressed confusion on your face. He quickly gets up off the sofa and takes ahold of your elbow and leds you to the kitchen.

"Baby, the game's on tonight." He whispers, as if it's a secret.

"Yeah, I know. But why are the guys here watching it?"

Joel frowns slightly before a sheepish expression passes over his face. "I invited 'em here to watch it. Wanted to show 'em the new flat screen."

You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. "We were supposed to be having a quiet night together. I wanted to get dinner and just hang out with you. We talked about it this morning, remember?"

Joel sighs deeply and rubs his palm over his face. "Shit, baby. I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Gee, thanks Joel," you grit out. "Didn't even fucking consider me before you just make plans with the guys."

"Sugar, it ain't like that," Joel says calmly, gently. "Come on now, don't be mad. You go relax and take it easy, have a bath or somethin'. I'll be up when the game is finished."

"What about dinner? I'm hungry." You pout.

Joel stares at you blankly for a moment, then clears his throat and looks at the ground.

"What? Joel?" 

He rubs the back of his neck and winces as he mumbles. "We got some pizza delivered. Didn't know what you wanted, figured you might wanna make somethin' else."

"Oh," you say flatly. A mixture of anger, disappointment and hurt swirls in your chest, and it takes every bit of restraint for you not to slap Joel. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I wasn't thinkin'." He says softly, looking back at you and reaching out to cradle your face. You pull away from his touch and he sighs again.

"Yeah, no problem, Joel," you mumble, wrapping your arms around your waist, feeling small and worthless. Yeah, fuck you, too. 

"Can I make it up to you tomorrow night? Maybe we can go out somewhere fancy and you can wear one of those little summer dresses I like." Joel purrs at you. He's trying to be soft and placating now, his way of apologising and trying to right his mistake, to sooth the sting of his lack of consideration. 

But it just makes you more angry. 

The thought of you dressing up for Joel's pleasure so he can whisk you off to some restaurant to wine and dine you as a consolation prize doesn't entice you at all. Joel making a show out of seducing you into forgiving him for his lack of attention isn't what you want. Especially not after him neglecting you over the last few weeks because of a big project his company has been working on. 

But now isn't the right time to argue, so instead you appease him.

"Yeah, sure, sounds great." You flash him a fake smile before turning away to go to the fridge. Joel smiles back, seemingly relieved with how the conversation turned out, and walks back to the living room. You seethe alone in the kitchen.

You hate that Joel didn't grovel for your forgiveness. You hate that he doesnt kick the guys out in favour of spending time with you, even though you know how irrational it would be. You feel spiteful and jealous. It makes you want to show Joel that he is being a neglectful asshole, prove to him that you are hot enough to get another man's attention, that if you really wanted to you could easily fall into the lap of someone more caring, more attentive. 

Then an idea comes to you. 

You take a serving tray from the cupboard and set a single bottle of beer on-top of it. Then you take the clip from your hair and let it fall over your shoulders, combing your fingers through the locks to give it more volume. You remove your jacket and then unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse so your cleavage spills and the lacy black trim of your bra peek out. You hurriedly search through your hand bag and retrieve one of your more expensive brands of lipstick; the vampy shade of red that you've only worn a handful of times. You carefully apply the crayon to your plump lips and smack them together.

Perfect.

A moment later you sashay from the kitchen to the lounge balancing a tray on your palm, the click of your heels echoing through the hallway.

When you enter the room once again all of them, including Joel, are too occupied by the game to divert their gaze to you. Except Tommy.

His eyes widen when he sees you. His dark brown eyes lock on yours, then slowly wander down to the swell of your breasts on show. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly as he stares, a slow smirk spreading across his mouth. He spreads his legs a little wider. You notice how he is clutching his near empty beer bottle on-top of his crotch, and the way his thumb is slowly sliding over and circling the mouth of the bottle.

"Well, hello again, honey," Tommy drawls. "You playin' hostess for us tonight?" 

You smile sweetly at him and bat your eyelashes coyly. "Something like that. Are you feeling thirsty, Tommy?" 

"As a matter of fact, I am, little lady," Tommy purrs. He's actually fucking enjoying this, you realise. And you are starting to find that lazy, mischievous grin of his quite seductive. "How about you pass me that drink you got there?" 

Here's your chance, you think. You straighten your posture so your tits pop out. You slowly slink across the living room towards him, your eyes focused on him. Tommy watches your every move intently.

You stop in front of Tommy and lean down to place the bottle of beer on the coffee table by his knee, the plush of your tits on display for him. His hand reaches out to gently caress your wrist.

"Thank you, sugar," Tommy murmurs, gazing up at you with that grin that makes your knees weak.

"Welcome, Tommy." You smile brightly.

You were too concentrated on Tommy to notice that Joel and the other men are now staring at you, too. You straighten up and walk back across the living room, not bothering to glance back at the other men in the room. As you're about to enter out into the hallway, you're shoved from behind.

"What the fuck do you think you're doin'?" Joel hisses.

You can't even turn to see his face before he manhandles you down the hallway and to the stairs. You don't need to see him to know he is pissed off, though. Joel grabs your wrist and pulls you up the stairs with impatient ire.

Shit. You didn't expect this reaction. You weren't even really sure what reaction you were wanting from Joel, or to what extent you were going to flirt with Tommy. You suddenly feel silly for the impulsive idea.

But knowing Joel, you should've really thought it through before taking such a risk. You knew he could be possessive and jealous, occasionally irrational, always quick to anger. Maybe if you'd apologise and explain yourself he would understand.

"Joel, I'm sorry, okay?" You plead desperately. His large hand is wrapped around your wrist as he drags you to the bedroom, and you try not to stumble over your own feet. "I didn't mean it."

"Too late for that now, don't you think?" Joel spits angrily. 

He hauls you through the door and shoves you onto the bed roughly. The force pushes you onto your back on the mattress with a thud. You scramble to sit upright and look at Joel with wide eyes, willing him to listen to your apologies and see you're truly sorry. He slams the door shut and  rounds on you.

"I didn't mean it to go that far," you blabber. "I'm sorry, really--"

"Shut up," he snarls, glaring at you with any iciness in his dark brown eyes. "Shut the hell up." 

With tears welling in your eyes, you purse your lips and look down in your lap, gingerly rubbing the stinging red skin of your wrist. You know you're in deep trouble. The rage radiating off of him is palpable, filling the room with an electric kind of energy that makes your gut anxious. Joel stands with his hands of his hips, his nostrils flaring, his face twisted in a scowl.

Oh, he's mad, alright. Really fucking mad.

"Just what did you think you were doin'?" He growls. "You think that little fuckin' stunt you pulled was funny?" 

You quickly shake your head and a tear slips and falls into your lap. You can tell by the harsh drawl of his voice that he won't accept your answer anyway, too consumed by his anger to even try go comprehend the reasons behind your behaviour tonight.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Joel barks. "So hungry for attention you gotta go flirt with my goddamn brother? Is that it?" 

"I just wanted your attention, Joel," you argue back.

"That mean you gotta act like a slut infront of all my friends?" He retorts sharply.

A slut, seriously? Just from a little flirting? You scoff and get up off the bed, slightly unsteady on your heels but prepared to storm out and leave the house for the rest of the night. 

But you don't get that far. Joel doesn't let you even reach the door before he lunges and wraps his hand firmly around your throat. It stops you in your tracks and you gasp in shock. Joel yanks you back to face him. You squirm and try to escape even though you know you can't; the strength he possesses in one hand far outweighs the strength you have within your entire body. 

"Stop," Joel barks. "Fuckin' stop movin'."

He squeezes your pulse point in warning and you quickly obey, stilling in his grasp like captured prey. His dark eyes wander carefully over your face, as if assessing you. His jaw ticks in irritation.

"You know I love you, baby," Joel scowls with reproach. "But goddamn, why do you provoke me into hurtin' you?"

Joel releases your neck from his grip and you swallow thickly, the bundle of tangles nerves thick and cloying in your throat. You love when Joel is dominant, when he is a little rough and commanding during sex; but his demeanour right now, coupled with the menacing way he towers over you, has your thighs trembling. He is so close and he's never looked so pissed towards you. It scares you.

Joel's fingers skate over your collarbone and down to the crease of your cleavage. "Thought you'd get your pretty little tits out, huh? Show the guys how lucky I am to have you?" His voice is soft but there is no gentleness to it. It is taunting, dripping with cruel condescension. 

You shake your head. No, you want to say, I just wanted to show you what was waiting for you. 

"Nuh-huh," Joel tuts, "no lyin' now." 

"I wasn't lying." 

Joel grabs a handful of your hair at the base of your scalp and tugs it so that your head tilts back. The move is swift and painful and has your eyes pricking with tears instantly. You sob loudly. 

"Yes, okay!" You admit. "I was trying to make you jealous! I was angry at you!"

Joel scoffs. "What? Ya think showin' off your body like some kinda whore is a good idea? Just cos you're angry with me?" He sneers at you.

You shake your head tightly.

"So what, you like men lookin' at you? Seein' what's mine?" 

"No, Joel," you whimper. "Just want you."

Joel huffs a laugh. He releases your hair and takes a step backward to let his eyes roam over your body. All you can do is stand still, frozen on the spot, your eyes brimming with hot tears. The darkness in his brown orbs is disconcerting as he studies you, causing a stab of fear twists in your stomach. Whatever is going on in his mind is not wholesome or loving or kind.

Joel grabs onto the collar of your shirt with both his hands and rips it apart with alarming agility, the buttons flying off and the material ruined. You squeal. He wrenches the shirt from your arms and it falls to the ground, leaving you in your skirt and lacy black bra. 

"Joel, what're you doing?!" You shriek. He gives a little shrug and cracks his neck. 

"If you wanna act like a slut, you can dress like one." He says matter of factly. 

The coldness in his voice spurs you to move. You try to weave past him and spring to the door to escape, but Joel wraps his strong arm around your waist and captures you. He is so powerful that bringing you to a halt is easy, like he's swatting a fly. You squirm and yell and beat his chest with your fists but it's no use. 

"Seems like I gotta train you to act right," Joel mutters. His hand holds you steady at the waist while you struggle. "Walkin' around here flirtin' with whatever man will look your way, right in front of me, fuck sake. Like a little bitch in heat."

His words sting. How dare he say these things about you when he was the one to provoke you, to ignore your feelings and needs so selfishly? 

You reach up and slap him. "Fuck you, Joel!" 

Joel's face turns slightly to the side from the impact of your smack. 

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

That was a mistake, and you realise it straight away. 

His jaw ticks for a moment. Joel slowly turns his head back to the centre to face you. His eyes appear black now, glinting with a sadistic iciness that makes you whimper and shrink away. He lets go of your waist and you quickly back away from him. 

Joel momentarily shuts his eyes as he inhales a deep breath and then exhales, as if trying to centre himself. "Fuckin' knew it," he mutters to himself. "Too fuckin' young and stupid to know how to behave."

He opens his eyes again and narrows his gaze down at you. 

"This is what's gonna happen. You're gonna listen to what I say and do exactly what I tell you." He commands firmly. He doesn't wait for you to respond. "Take off your skirt." 

You stare at him defiantly. 

"Do it," he says through clenched teeth. 

When you don't move, Joel reaches out and lands a slap across your face. You wobble on your heels. Your head jerks to the side and you cry out in shock, your ear ringing from the impact. You cradle your stinging cheek.

"Take off the fuckin' skirt.' 

The tears are cascading down your cheeks now. Dumbed by the shock of Joel's slap, you shakily unzip your skirt and let it fall to your ankles. You are left only in your bra and matching thong, along with your stockings and heels. Although Joel has seen you naked many times before, the energy and emotion surrounding this moment is starkly different - you feel weak and exposed, not at all sexy or aroused. You stare down at the carpet with your palm still cupping your cheek.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "Now, where's that cute lil cheerleader outfit you got?"

You frown and lift your head to look at him. He's surely not talking about the costume you brought last year, the sexy cheerleader costume you  surprised him with one night?

Joel looks at you with raised eyebrows expectantly. 

Oh. He does mean that costume.

"Its in the closet, to the left." You whisper.

Joel slides open the closet and rummages through your clothes until he finds the set. It hangs neatly on the coathanger; a tight white crop top with the words "babygirl" written in pink block font, and a very short pleated pink skirt to match. You remember how crazy it had driven Joel to see you dressed and roleplaying as a slutty cheerleader, something he'd always fantasised about. It was exciting and fun. But now, as Joel holds it out for you to take from him, there's nothing fun about wearing it again. Not in this situation.

"There. Put on that skirt." Joel orders you. You dare to look at his face.

"I dont want to," you say weakly.

"Aint got a choice in the matter, sweetheart." Joel clicks his tongue. "Gotta suffer some kinda consequences for your bratty behaviour. Gotta teach you some life lessons. Can't have the boys thinkin' you're a cock starved little slut whose daddy can't control her."

"I don't care what they think!" you snap at him.

Joel suddenly clutches your face inbetween his thumb and fingers and squeezes your cheeks, silencing you. "Stop fuckin' arguin' and put on the damn skirt. Now!"

Joel gives your face a tight shake before letting go. You are weeping freely now. You take the hanger from him and put the skirt on, stepping into it and slipping it up and over your legs. It is incredibly short, only covering a few inches of your thighs, the bottom of your ass cheeks exposed. You go to remove the tank top from the hanger but Joel stops you. Even with your blearly vision you can recognise the lust written on his features, the feral hunger in his eyes.

"Don't need it," he mutters. "Look like a perfect lil whore just like this."

Your cheeks heat at his words. "What now?"

"Look at the mirror." Joel growls.

When you dont move fast enough, Joel grabs your upper arm and hauls you towards the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He stands behind you and positions you directly infront of the mirror. Joel's front is flush against your back and you can feel his hard cock poking your ass through his jeans. With horror, you realise he is actually fucking enjoying this, and what's more, he finds it arousing. His hand snakes around your front and palms one of your breasts.

You watch your reflection. Mascara is streaked down your flushed cheeks, your lipstick is slightly smeared around your mouth, and your lips are swollen from Joel's slap and the tears you've shed. Your vacant expression coupled with the scant outfit you wear makes you look like a cheap whore, you think. Joel smirks at you when your gaze meets his, as if he can read your exact thoughts.

"Pretty little thing," Joel whispers, his mouth close to the shell of your ear, his beard lightly tickling your skin. His large calloused hand squeezes your breast roughly. "'Specially when you're bein' obedient. Shoulda been more tough on ya from the beginnin', trained you properly from the first time you took my cock."

You glare at Joel in the mirror. "I'm not your damn dog, Joel."

He suddenly bites the side of your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin. It is painful and sharp, making you scream. Then he relaxes his jaw and begins sucking hard, bursting capillaries and bruising your flesh.

"Stop!" You beg. You thrash around and his grip on your breast tightens. Joel's other hand tangles in your hair and wrenches your head backwards. "Fucking hurts, Joel!"

Joel breaks the seal of his mouth on your neck with a wet pop, then licks at the dark reddish purple spot that is left in its place. "Needa know whose boss here, baby," he rasps. "If I gotta treat you like a dog for you to learn, then I will."

You sob helplessly. The strength has drained from your body and you subconsciously relax back against him. Joel hums in approval, taking this as a sign of you accepting defeat, of your submission to him. He loosens the hold on your hair so your head flops forward and your eyes meet his in the mirror.

"So here's how this is gonna go," Joel says cooly, "If you don't do what I say, then you'll be punished. Simple as that."

"Punished how?" You dare to mumble, wondering what could be worse than the slap or his bite. Joel chuckles darkly and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"Trust me, darlin', you don't wanna fuck around and find out. I got no problem turnin' you into my own personal fucktoy and violatin' every one of your little holes. And when I'm through punishin' ya, you're gonna wish you never opened your fuckin' mouth."

This cannot be happening, your mind screams. How could this possibly be Joel, your Joel, who is usually so soft spoken and caring and kind to you? Has he been hiding his true nature this whole time?

"And so when I say kneel, you're gonna drop to your knees. Aint that right?" Joel murmurs.

You nod halfheartedly. A smile of satisfaction spreads across his face and he smooths his hand over your hair affectionately.

"Now, turn around and get on the ground and kneel."

Your mind is muddled, unable to process just what is happening and unable to move your body quick enough for his liking. Joel sighs and twists your nipple through the lacy material of your bra, causing you to squeal and buck your body forward.

"What'd I just fuckin' say?" He growls lowly, impatient.

The pain snaps you into action. You weep as you turn around and carefully lower yourself to kneel on the carpet. You bow your head, meek and dejected, while Joel unfastens his belt and unbuckles it.

"I'm the only man you look at, the only man you serve." He tells you while pulling his belt from the loops of his jeans. "You'll keep your eyes to the ground whenever Tommy or the guys are over. And you'll speak only to me. You got that?"

You nod miserably. It's only when you feel Joel's warm calloused hands on your neck that your head snaps up to look at him, panicked and confused. He bends down and deftly slips the leather strap around your neck and pulls it tight, taut enough that it isn't cutting off your oxygen supply but still serving as a threat. You whimper and your bottom lip quivers.

"Joel, what are you doing?" You whisper through tears. You are desperate to know what his intentions are for making you dress this way, why his belt is around your neck, what is he planning on 'teaching' you.

"Gotta do it, baby," he murmurs and strokes your cheek with his large thumb. "This ain't just for my benefit, either. I'm doin' this to protect you, sugar. There's plenty of guys out there that won't hesitate to abuse you and throw you away once they've got what they want. Ain't no other man who will protect you and love you like I do. And I'm gonna prove it to ya."

He gives the belt an experimental tug. "Come on, we're goin' downstairs."

You want to protest and refuse, to put up a fight, but you also don't want to face the wrath of defying Joel. So when he moves toward the bedroom door with the end of the belt firmly in his hand, you crawl on your hands and knees behind him. He takes you to the stairs, and you feel more and more degraded with each burning shuffle of your knees across the carpet.

Downstairs the house is quiet. The low hum of the football game is the only thing audible to your ears. It's as if everyone has left. You're not sure what is going on, but when Joel leads you to the living room you stop suddenly.

"Joel, no!" you whine. You can't face the men dressed like this, crawling on the ground like an animal on a leash. Joel wouldn't really force you to do that, would he?

"You're okay, baby, just trust me." He says calmly. He jerks the belt tightly and you have no choice but to continue behind him.

When you both enter the living room, you're surprised to find that the only person left is Tommy - the other men have disappeared, no where to be seen. When Tommy sees you and Joel he quickly jumps up from the couch.

"What the hell is goin' on here, Joel?" Tommy demands. He frowns as his eyes dart from you to Joel. You stare at the floor, ashamed.

"Had to have a bit of a talk with my girl," Joel grunts. "Where'd the guys go?"

"I told 'em to go to the bar and we'd meet 'em there. But her," Tommy gestures to you. "Bit of a talk, Joel? About what? You got a belt around her neck like a damn dog!" Tommy snaps at the older brother. "Why's she dressed like that?"

Joel gives a slight shrug of his thick shoulders. "She didn't give me a choice, Tom. Said she was flirtin' with you and puttin' on a show cos she was pissed off with me. I had to put her in her place. "

Tommy's mouth drops open and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Joel mutters resolutely.

There's a few long moments of silence as Tommy seems to process the reality of the situation before him.

"Can't let her be doin' that shit," you hear Joel whisper. "Gonna need your help here, Tommy."

You glance up to see the men looking at one another as if in mutual contemplation, like they are silently communicating with each other.

"I hear ya," Tommy whispers back. Then he shakes his head and let's out a wry chuckle. He no longer looks concerned for you or outraged at Joel. Infact, he looks amused, and it makes you feel sick.

"Tryin' to get you jealous cos you made her angry?" Tommy muses with a smirk.

"Yeah. So I told her I'll be teachin' her a few things. Like how she can't walk around actin' like a desperate slut, unless she wants to be treated like one." Joel mutters. He sounds so nonchalant and cold, speaking about you as if you were a disobediant pet. It's humiliating.

Tommy tilts his head to the side and smiles down at you, his beautiful brown eyes gleaming with roguish excitement. "So you were just teasin' me? Can't say I ain't disappointed. Was startin' to think I finally had a chance with ya, sweetheart."

Shame heats your cheeks and you look down at your fingers as they figet with the hem of your skirt.

"But my big brother's right, you know," Tommy adds conversationally. "Ya can't be showin' off your goodies to just any guy for attention. Wrong person could really take advantage of you."

Despite not looking at Tommy you're listening intently to every word he's saying. Joel hums in agreement.

"And ya know what? I'm feelin' generous today, sweetheart. I'm gonna help you remember to be a good girl, okay? Show ya just what could happen if you're not careful."

"What...what are you going to do to me?" You ask meekly.

Tommy chuckles but there is no mirth or warmth in his tone. "Don't you worry about a thing, Joel knows I'm a great teacher."

Your mind screams at you to run but you can't.

A minute later Joel is standing with his back against the wall and his arms folded, his biceps straining under the material of his shirt. His eyes are fixed on you, his expressjon unreadable. You are still kneeling, but this time you're positioned in front of Tommy. He has sat back down on the couch with his legs spread wide, only now his jeans are pulled down his thighs and his hard cock stands naked. He fists himself with languid strokes as he stares at you. His other hand holds the end of Joel's belt.

"Come closer and suck my cock, honey." Tommy croons. "Show me what that sweet lil mouth can do."

You turn your head to look back at Joel. "Joel," your voice warbles, "please, I'm sorry, don't make me do this."

He just shakes his head stoically. Tommy jerks the belt sharply to redirect your focus back to him.

"Come on, I'm bein' gentle with ya right now," Tommy admonishes. "But I ain't playin' around, kid. Suck my dick."

He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and angles the fat wet head slightly downwards toward you.

"Do it, baby," you hear Joel encourage you softly. "Show me how sorry you are."

You sniffle and let out a shuddering sigh. You're still not exactly sure how this is supposed to be teaching you a lesson, but you're determined to prove yourself to Joel. Because you love him too much to let him go, because you'd do anything to make him happy, even if that means letting yourself be degraded by him and his brother.

You creep forwards a little more so you're right in between Tommy's legs and close to his cock. You purposely avoid meeting his stare; you want to get this over and done with quickly, and hope that by treating it like a chore, a task without intimacy, it will be easier to endure. You open your mouth and give the head of Tommy's cock a kitten lick.

"Come on, no more teasin'," Tommy drawls.

You obey and lick a long stripe up the underside of his length, making him moan lowly. He isn't as big as Joel but he's still well endowed, still thick and veiny. You press a few wet kisses along his shaft, your red lipstick smearing across his skin.

"That's it, sweetie," Tommy sighs, his voice rough with lust. "Put it in your mouth now."

You open your lips and take the head into your mouth, then begin to suck. Tommy brings his hand to your head and grasps a hank of your hair to gently coax you to bob further down. You follow his silent instruction but feel yourself start to zone out, your mind drifting.

You can do this.

Then the warm touch of Joel's hands slide over your thighs and your ass, his rough skin prickling along the sheer nylon of your stockings, and you realise he's now crouched behind you on one knee. You freeze. What's he doing now?

"It's okay babydoll," he cooes. "Keep goin', you're doin' so good."

Tommy bucks his hips a bit to puntuacte Joel's command. You continue to suck around Tommy's cock, bobbing your head up and down lazily, only taking him halfway inside your mouth. You're too absorbed with Joel's hands caressing your ass to really pay attention to Tommy. You still don't look at him, instead focusing your gaze on his stomach.

Then you hear the tearing sound of your stockings as Joel suddenly rips the material apart with both hands, leaving a large hole at the crotch. He yanks your thong to the side and you feel his fingers splay open your pussy lips from behind. Your pussy clenches involuntarily and your body tenses. You make a muffled noise of alarm.

"It's just me, baby," Joel whispers soothingly.

"Think I've given her enough time, brother?" Tommy interjects above you, the amusement in his voice evident. "Think I've been plenty patient."

"Yeah," Joel mutters in response. "She's ready."

Ready for what?

Your mind buzzes with dread. You start to pull off Tommy but his grip on your hair tightens.

"Hey, where you think you're goin'?" Tommy laughs. "We're just gettin' started, sugar. Now open your mouth wide like the little whore you are."

Tommy suddenly pushes your head down onto his cock forcefully, stuffing your mouth full of his girth. You splutter and choke on him, tears immediately pricking your eyes. You flatten your palms on his legs and try to push away from him but he holds your head still.

"Fuck yeah, there we go," Tommy groans. "Right in there."

He restrains you for a few more moments, then yanks you off of him. You gasp and cough, lungs burning. You barely have a moment to recover before you feel the head of Joel's cock prodding the entrance of your pussy. Joel gives you no opportunity to protest; he pushes himself inside your pussy in one swift, agonising stroke, stretching your hole so painfully that you scream raggedly.

Tommy laughs. "Aw, that hurt ya, sugar?"

Joel remains buried fully inside you as he sinks his hands into the flesh of your hips to stabilise himself. "Always so tight," Joel grunts. "Usually work her open first."

"You're a lucky man, brother," Tommy grins. He takes his dick and rubs the tip over your lips, smearing more of your red lipstick. "Me and the guys still can't believe you get to fuck this sweet lil thing."

You sob and screw your eyes shut. Joel slowly rocks his hips back and forth in an effort to stretch you out, gradually letting you adjust. Your body trembles uncontrollably while you whimper loudly.

"You're alright, baby," Joel murmurs. "It's okay, you're doin' so good for me."

You hear Tommy scoff.

"Stop bein' soft on her, man," Tommy barks. He gives you a sharp slap on the side of your face and you wail. "She's gonna finish what she fuckin' started."

Using both hands to hold your head in place, Tommy shoves his dick back into your mouth and begins pumping his hips rapidly. He fucks your face with short brutal thrusts, the head of his cock knocking the back of your throat with each stroke. You struggle to breathe around him and clutch the bunched material of jeans around his thighs. Your eyes are still shut tight as the tears run freely down your face.

Joel continues to fuck you at an unhurried pace, your pussy slowly adjusting to the unexpected intrusion. Although his movements are not anywhere near as rough as Tommy's, the mere sensation of fullness borders on overwhelming. You feel surrounded by them, your body possessed by them, split open and violated like you're an object, a toy. The room is filled with the sounds of Tommy's panting, Joel's heavy breathing, and the obscenely wet gagging noises your throat makes. If your stomach wasn't empty you'd surely vomit all over him.

Tommy is rentless as he fucks your mouth. He doesn't give a shit that you cannot properly breathe, and you fear you may pass out.

"Oh shit," Joel moans, his voice deep and rumbling. "Pussy fuckin' squeezin' me so good."

Tommy slams his hips into your face so that his entire cock is buried down your throat, and stills. Your throat constricts around him as your body is robbed of air. Joel's fingernails dig painfully into your flesh.

"How about now?" Tommy asks Joel with a breathless laugh. "She get tighter?"

"Uh-huh," Joel moans. "Chokin' me like a fuckin' virgin." His hips start to move faster and he begins to slam into you with more force, getting lost in the intense pleasure of defiling your body.

"Yeah? Well she's chokin' on my dick like a fuckin' pro." Tommy releases you with a sigh.

You cough miserably and try to suck in gulps of air. Tommy gathers the saliva dripping from your abused mouth with his fingers and rubs it over your face.

"Stop!" You manage to screech through the rawness of your throat. You use all your might to rear your upper body back. "Stop it! Joel, please!"

Joel slows his thrusts hesitantly, but doesn't halt altogether. You wish you could see his face, wish you could read his expression; maybe he would take pity on you if he could see how wrecked and sorry you are. His thumbs stroke your hips lightly, as if reassuring you he's still there, that the man you love so much is still with you.

"Joel," you sob pathetically, hoarsely.

"Baby," Joel drawls. His voice is thick and slurred, the way it gets when he is engrossed in pleasure while fucking you. "Ain't finished yet. Just a little longer, I promise."

"I can't!"

"Oh no," Tommy suddenly growls. "I ain't done with you yet, bitch. Joel might be soft with ya, but I don't give a fuck how much you beg."

He grabs the back of your head and manhandles you back toward his cock. He takes advantage of the split second when you open your mouth to take in a breath of air and then shoves his cock past your lips. He begins brutally fucking your mouth again, simultaneously pumping his hips and moving your face in a punishing rhythm.

"Won't be lookin' for another man's attention now," Tommy pants heavily, "not after I fill that throat."

Joel's hips pick up speed and he drives his cock faster in and out of you. He doesn't speak though, seemingly too preoccupied with fucking you doggystyle to add to his brother's words. The slap of his skin against yours echoes around the living room. He isn't fucking you as hard as he usually does; this tempo feels almost tender and loving, like he's going easy on you, a small gesture mercy. A few groans and moans slip from his mouth, but otherwise he remains a quiet dominating presence behind you.

You can't do anything but allow Tommy to violate and bruise your throat. It only takes couple of minute for him to reach his climax, although it feels like forever to you. He grunts loudly, like an animal, as his dick pulses and a warm load of semen shoots into your mouth. When he pulls out you are quick to swallow it, desperate to be able to breathe unobstructed once more. You splutter and sob, your windpipe thick with cum and tears and pleghm.

Joel orgasms soon after. You feel his cock throb and then spurt hot ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. You clench around him and moans rumble through his chest.

"Good girl," he says breathlessly. He pats your hip.

Tommy rolls his eyes and shoves you backwards to stand up from the couch. He pulls up his jeans and underwear and tucks his softening dick back into his underwear. He tsks as he wipes his red stained fingers on his jeans.

"Messy little whore," Tommy mutters to himself.

Joel removes the belt from your neck gingerly and lets it fall to the ground. He then withdraws from you and stands, his knees cracking as he straightens up. The abscence of his large frame bracketing you makes you collapse on the carpet, body weak and wracking with shivers, wanting so badly to be swallowed up by the ground disappear completely.

Tommy scoffs and stares down at you with cold hate in his eyes, a frightening juxtaposition to the sweet Tommy you have always known.

"Stupid cunt," Tommy snarls with disgust. "Next time ya even think about playin' up, remember how I wrecked your mouth." He fastens his belt, the large metal bullhead buckle glinting. "Joel's the only man who'd ever put up with your bullshit. If I were him, I'd throw ya out on the street, let the fuckin' dogs have you."

He steps over you, uncaring as his boot treads on your hair, and murmers something quiet to Joel. Joel responds but you can't hear what is said. Then Tommy walks out of the room and leaves the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

The house is deathly silent apart from your heavy breathing and weeping. Your throat feels raw and scratchy, and your lips feel puffy and sore. Joel's cum is beginning to seep out from your pussy but you can't bring yourself to move.

"How ya feelin', baby girl?" Joel asks as he crouches down beside you. His large hands smooth the hair from your face and his big puppy dog eyes roam over you, studying you closely. "Are you okay?"

When you don't move or verbally respond, Joel slips his hands underneath your body and lifts you into his arms. He grumbles with exertion and his joints crack when he stands up to carry you out of the room. Your head rests instictively against his broad chest and one of your hands clutches at the collar of his shirt.

"I want you to get in the shower and get yourself clean," he instructs you sternly. "But don't take too long."

Joel carries you up the stairs and you feel like a broken doll in his strong arms. He reaches the bathroom but just before he is about to set you down, you whine pitifully.

"I'm sorry," you croak tearfully. "I won't do it again."

Joel sighs and carefully deposits you to stand on the tiled floor. You wobble like a newborn foal on your heels and he steadies you with his hand around your arm. A gush of his cum runs down your inner thigh.

"I know you won't," he admits. "Because if you do, I'm gonna fuck your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a week. Might even let Tommy or one of the others have a go, too."

"No!" You grip his shirt tightly in your fist and shake your head vehemently. You stare at Joel with wide, panicked eyes. The thought of either brother punishing your ass terrifies you. You've only tried anal once with Joel, and his dick was too thick and fat to even breach your asshole. He was understanding when you cried and told him to stop. He has been wanting to try again but you haven't been ready yet, and although he has been patient, you know deep down he desperately desires to claim your ass. And after tonight, you know Tommy wouldn't hesitate to stick his cock in without any preparation. He would most likely get off on your screams, the mess, the blood. It sends a shiver up your back.

"You've learnt your lesson?" Joel cocks an eyebrow at you inquisitively.

You nod eagerly. "Yes Joel, yes. I swear, I promise I won't do anything like that again."

He nods, satisfied, and gives you an affectionate slap on your ass.

"Get cleaned up and wash your mouth out. I'm stayin' home to watch the game. And I want you downstairs pourin' me a glass of whiskey in ten minutes. Understood?"

"Yes, Joel," you whisper timidly. His jaw ticks as he gives you one last, lingering look.

"Good girl," Joel drawls. Then he stalks away, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You start the shower and stare at your reflection while you unclasp your bra. Your red rimmed eyes are glassy. Your cheeks are filthy with the remanents of smudged mascara and lipstick. Your lips are swollen and bruised.

You look used and broken.

You step into the hot shower. You scrub your body zealously with a soapy loufa and wash your mouth out thoroughly with water and mouthwash. You worked quickly, mindful not to be any longer than necessary, just as Joel had instructed you. He needed you to serve him and you couldn't keep him waiting.

After all, you had learnt your lesson.

The end.

I hope you guys liked it! A massive thank you to the legendary @romanarose for coming up with Dead Dove December and for giving dark content writers a safe space to explore and share their work.

[oddinary4bts]

hii i have an angsty drabble request for jk x reader pleasee but with a happy ending :)

Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

Sorry if i went into too much detail

For some reason this was hard to write?? I hope it's still good and what you wanted to get <3

What's wrong? | jjk

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader

☆rating: 15+ (I use curse words a little too much for me to rate this PG 13 hahaha)

☆genre: slice of life!au, angst, fluff

☆warnings: unedited, alcohol, pet names, curse words, Jimin and Seokjin are sorta mean? but not really

☆word count: 2.8k

☆☆☆☆☆    

   

You like hanging out with Jungkook. Like that he invites you whenever he goes to eat at his friends’ house, like how he just includes you in his life all the time. You want to be with him – always. You’re aware that it might be a problem, that you’re young and shouldn’t be spending your entire time with him, but still you’re at an age where you see yourself settling down, building a lifelong relationship.

And of course you want it to be with him.

You’ve been drinking a couple of beers with Jungkook and his friends Jimin, Taehyung and Seokjin. Jungkook is staying sober, as he’s the one driving tonight, but you’re two beers in and you have the biggest need to go to the bathroom. You’re sitting next to him, and a look to his profile has you smile dreamily.

You can’t believe you’ve landed the man of your dreams in your early twenties. You never thought you had luck in life, until you met Jungkook. So you don’t hesitate before pressing a kiss to his cheek, telling him that you’ll be right back.

You’re quick in the bathroom, already excited to be back by his side. You step out after having cleaned your hands, taking three steps towards the living room, but you freeze in your spot when you hear your name being said, followed by, “Is she always clingy like that?”

You’re pretty sure it’s Seokjin speaking. Then, “Doesn’t it get on your nerves?” This time you think it’s Jimin, and your previous joyful state slowly falls as you keep listening, even though you know you shouldn’t.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says flatly. “She’s always clingy. Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t even let me breathe.” Each of his words stabs through your heart, and you instinctively put a hand above the spot that aches as he continues. “I can’t even see you guys alone.”

You want to tell him he’s full of shit, because he’s the one that invites you all the time, but all you can do is listen.

“And she’s so loud too,” Jungkook continues, and it makes you wonder how long he’s been bottling up everything inside. Because it’s the first you’ve heard him complain about you, and it really doesn’t feel good. “She’s always moving, always speaking, sometimes I just want to tell her to stop.”

“Bro,” a voice says. Taehyung. “She just went to the bathroom, she might hear.”

From where you are you can even hear Jungkook’s sigh before he says, “Right. I don’t know, it’s just been a lot.”

His friends offer him words of reassurance that you don’t really listen to, Jungkook’s words just spinning in your mind. It takes a moment for the hurt to shift to anger, but when it does you clench your jaw, determined to make him regret saying that.

If he thinks you’re too clingy, you’ll offer him the exact opposite. So when you go back, stopping to grab another drink in the kitchen first, you sit on the other couch, next to Seokjin. Seokjin offers you a tight-lipped smile, and you try to smile as brightly as you can, ignoring Jungkook’s confused look as he stares at you.

You keep the act on for the whole evening. Even in the car, on the way home, you angle yourself towards the window, answering with ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘I don’t know’ to whatever Jungkook says. The perfect picture of indifference.

When you get home, Jungkook asks you if you want to watch the episode of the anime you watch together that was released earlier today, and you tell him he can watch it without you.

“What?” he lets out, but you’re already strutting out of the room, moving towards the office where your PC gaming set-ups are.

Jungkook follows you, watching you turn your PC on, and when the monitor comes to life he leans against the doorframe.

You ignore him, putting your headset on. You type your password in, and then as the computer finishes turning on, you spare a single glimpse towards him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he remains silent.

When he figures that you’re really going to game, he moves to his own PC, turning it on as his tongue plays with his piercing. His eyes burn into your profile, but you keep on ignoring him, focusing on the Steam store page. You move to your collection, scrolling down as you search for a game to play. You settle on F1 2023, even though you usually never play alone, and as the game loads Jungkook speaks.

“Do you want to play together?” he asks. “We could play in multi…”

“No, all good,” you interject before he’s even finished his sentence.

Now, his tongue pokes at his cheek before he nods curtly. He chooses to play Overwatch instead, which doesn’t surprise you, and you sit in silence for about an hour, except the occasional curses he lets out because he keeps losing.

You don’t lose. You’re playing the storyline, which you’ve always found pretty easy, and you just enjoy the races, ignoring how your heart still aches from what Jungkook said. At some point, Jungkook curses loudly, and you glance at him once, an eyebrow cocked, before focusing on the race that is starting in your game.

When you finish it, you decide to call it a night, turning your PC off and pushing your chair back from your desk so you can get up. That attracts Jungkook’s attention, and he’s quick to ask, “Where are you going?”

You don’t even answer because, what would be the point of that? Instead, you go to your bedroom, where you retrieve a PJ and some clean underwear, and then you make your way to the bathroom. You close the door behind you, locking it even though you usually never lock the door. You take a quick shower, mostly to wash yourself before going to bed because you just can’t go to bed if you haven’t showered. You’re stepping out of the shower when the doorknob turns, though it blocks because of the lock.

“What…” you hear Jungkook mutter. And then a little louder, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you reply.

You can tell he hasn’t moved from behind the door, though you busy yourself with doing your skincare. You’re putting your toner on when Jungkook speaks again.

“Why did you lock the door?” he asks, and he sounds whiny.

“I felt like it,” you say, voice just as flat as it’s been since you’ve heard him at his friend’s place.

He doesn’t like that answer. It’s clear as spring water, especially as he follows it with, “You can’t be serious”.

You cock an eyebrow even if he can’t see you, but don’t say anything as you finish doing your skincare. When you open the door to head to bed, Jungkook is still standing on the other side.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks the moment you come into view.

You shrug. “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”

He frowns, and that adorable pout of his appears on his lips. You don’t let it affect you – you can’t let it affect you.

“You’ve been weird since we left Taehyung and Jimin’s place,” he says slowly. His tongue pokes at his cheek, before swiping at his piercing. “Something is clearly wrong.”

You shrug your shoulder. “Nah, all good. I’m going to bed.”

He doesn’t stop you as you breeze past him, heading towards the bedroom. He does watch you go, and you almost turn around to tell him that you heard him and that he hurt you. But you decide to make him wait longer, because you can tell that he doesn’t like how you’ve been acting.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

You’re on your side of the bed, facing the wall and scrolling on your phone when Jungkook comes in, hair wet from his own shower. The mattress dips when he sits on the other side and you hear him sigh loudly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks once more. “You’ve been so weird… Did something happen?”

“No.”

You focus on your phone, even as he whines, “Don’t play the innocent game, baby, I can recognize when you’re mad.”

You sigh, loudly, and maybe exaggerating the sound a little. You do like your dramatics after all.

“Am I mad?” you ask, still not looking at him. “Do I have a reason to be mad?”

You can hear the frown in his voice when he says, “Clearly you do. But I’m a little lost.”

At that you turn on your back to glance at him where he’s sitting. He’s only wearing the boxers he usually wears to sleep, and it almost makes you forget all about what he said earlier. You hold on strong though, saying, “I thought you didn’t like me when I’m clingy”.

His mouth falls open as his gaze widens in recognition. “Oh,” he lets out. “You heard me.”

He deflates as you nod curtly, before turning your back to him again to focus on your phone. Mostly because the reminder suddenly has tears forming in your eyes, and it makes your heart ache in your chest uncomfortably.

“Babe,” he gently says. When you don’t turn, he presses, “Come on, babe, look at me”.

You’re stubborn. You don’t turn, don’t say anything. Just blink away the tears that are slowly winning against your will not to cry.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says after a moment of silence, only interrupted by the sniffle you fail at keeping in.

“Whatever, Jungkook.”

He scoffs. “Don’t whatever me. And don’t call me Jungkook.”

It’s true. You usually never call him by his first name, preferring to call him Kookie.

“I’m really sorry you heard me say that,” he adds after you haven’t said a thing for almost a minute. “I’ve always found you clingy but… I don’t mind, babe, I promise.”

“It’s a little too late for you to say that,” you answer, and you turn off your phone, resting it face down on the bed so you can wipe the tear that’s escaped from your eye, tickling the bridge of your nose where it refused to fall.

“No, seriously,” he insists. “I really like when you’re clingy. I’m sorry if it came out sounding as if I don’t.”

“You complained about not being able to see the guys alone,” you point out. “As if you’re not the one to invite me all the time.”

He moves, and the bed shifts as he gets closer. He puts a hand on your arm, but you shrug off his touch.

“I do invite you all the time,” he says. “Because I want you to be there.”

“Didn’t sound like you want me to be there at all, Kookie.”

The nickname has him put his hand on your arm again, and this time you let him do it.

“I know, I realize that now,” he says carefully. “I’m really sorry I said that. You are clingy, that’s true, but it’s what I love the most about you.”

“What about me being loud?”

He hums, realizing that you’ve heard that part too. “I love your energy. Always makes me smile. It felt so weird tonight because you barely spoke.”

“Yeah…” you let out.

“It made me realize that the reason why I love you is because you’re loud and energetic and always trying to goof around. It can be a lot to handle for some people, but not for me.”

“Kookie…”

“I’m serious!” He pauses and when he pulls on your arm you let him turn you on your back. He bristles at the sight of your tears, quickly drying them. “Fuck,” he curses as he wipes your cheeks. “I’m so, so, sorry. I was so stupid.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” you tell him, and a new wave of tears hits.

“I’m fully aware,” he says as he blanches, showing you just how affected he is by you crying. “Please be clingy. Be clingy and annoying and never leave me alone.” He lies down to pull you in his arms, and you rest your forehead against his chest. “Be my favourite pain in the ass. I don’t want it any other way. I should have realized before.”

“But why did you say that in the first place?” you ask. “It was mean.”

“I know…” he trails off. It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, but he soon says, “Honestly I think I just said that because I’ve been exhausted because of how busy it’s been at work. I attributed it to you, which was the dumbest thing I could do.”

“You have been busy,” you comment, because it's true. You've seen how it's affecting him.

“Yeah.”

There’s a silence, as he just runs a soothing hand on your back, pressing soft kisses on the top of your head once in a while.

 “You know,” you eventually say. “If you want to hang out alone with your friends, you can. I really don’t mind not coming every time.”

“But I want you to be there!” he insists. “I really do, I promise.”

You sigh, nuzzling your face further into his chest. “Are you sure?” you mumble against his skin.

“Yes.” He presses another kiss to the top of your head, his grip tightening around you. “And now I’m going to be the clingy one because you scared me tonight.”

“Why?” you choke out as he holds you so tight you almost can’t breathe anymore.

He loosens his grip just a little, before saying, “I don’t know, I felt so awful after saying that. I think I realized right away that I actually didn’t feel like that at all and that I was just using you as a scapegoat because I didn’t want to speak about work with the boys.” He pauses, shifting a little so your head is resting on his chest now as he lies on his back. “And then you were distant all evening and I thought ‘that’s it, she’s going to break up with you, you stupid idiot’.”

For some reason, that makes you giggle against him.

“What?” he asks.

“I won't break up with you, but you really are a stupid idiot.”

You can almost hear him roll his eyes, though knowing him he probably has a teasing smile on his lips. “But I am your stupid idiot.”

“You are,” you answer, wrapping your arm around his waist so you can hold him close.

“I really am sorry I said that,” he says after another comfortable silence. “I should have spoken to you about it first. Saying it to the guys was low of me.”

You nod. “It was. But I’m not angry at you, I understand where you’re coming from. I do move a lot and speak a lot, so if you’ve been tired then it’s probably been a lot to handle.”

“But I love handling it, don’t take me the wrong way,” he says. One of his hands moves under your jaw, making you tilt your head back until he’s looking at you in the eyes. “I love your bubbly personality, it’s the reason why I started dating you in the first place.” He pecks the tip of your nose, before adding, “With you there’s never a boring moment. And I don’t want any boring moments in my life. I just want you.”

“Gosh,” you mumble, as you feel yourself blushing. “Why are you so cheesy?”

“You deserve it!” he exclaims, and you both laugh softly. “I’ll be so cheesy from now on you’ll hate me.”

“I don’t like cheesy,” you mumble in agreement, though the smile on your lips tells otherwise.

“Don’t care, you’ll get it anyway,” he teases, and he kisses your lips then.

His pink lips are infinitely soft. Always are, even in the middle of the winter. You don’t know how he manages to achieve that – your lips are chapped as soon as the weather is a little dry. But his are soft, always, and it feels like heaven to kiss him. The ache that was in your heart finishes dissolving then, as you focus on how his mouth moves against yours, how he sighs softly in the kiss.

And when you pull away, he presses another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, baby,” he says, lips moving against your forehead. “I’m so sorry I was a dick tonight. I won’t ever do it again.”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, pecking the mole he has there. He laughs, arm tightening against you.

“I accept your apology, Kookie,” you say. “But please don’t say stuff like that to your friends again. We can talk about it first.”

“I promise,” he says. “I’ll be the one to get on your nerves now, you’ll see.”

“You always get on my nerves,” you tease, just because you feel like being a little shit.

“Excuse me?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.

“I love you too, Kook.”

Now it turns into a smile when he says, “That’s better.”

And the best thing is, it really is.

[muntitled]

Hi!! (this is the same anon that praised the magnificent work that was Picture Perfect.) i would like to make one itty bitty baby request. (now walk with me) imagine best friend!Sohee that's like low-key (🤫high-key) obsessed with you. he begrudgingly listens to you gush about the dates some guy (Seunghan, maybe? 👀) has taken you on. he constantly nitpicks the dates and points out anything remotely negative. until one day (dramatic pause), you casually tell him that you and that same guy (SEUNGHAN) had sex after your most recent date. a switch flips in Sohee and he's sooo pissed and yelling a lil bit. you're like "what the fuck?" and "hold on, Sohee's kinda… bites finger" at the same time. you guys end up having sex and it's FILTY (both physically and verbally.) flesh this out however you see fit. this literally came to me in a hazy vision (and only you can make it sound good 🙏🏾.)

What a spicy prompt. Never run out of ideas for me, please. I hope you like and so sorry for the wait <33

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Summary: He just doesn't deserve to be the goofy best friend. It's not fair.

Warnings: Language, Roommates!AU, Best Friends To Lovers, Obsession, Perv!Sohee,Cheating Implications, Slight Angst, Jealousy, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), Masturbation, Panty stealing, Handjobs, Blowjobs, Needy!Sohee, Grinding, Humping, Nipple Play, Spitting, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink

This is unedited because it's 1am. We die like hot girls here. If this is bad and incoherent don't mention it I beg...

If there is ever a time, Sohee wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. It would be now. Anything to get him away from here and the horrible fucking situation he has stumbled into.

Sohee had walked into your shared living room comfortably, almost nonchalantly, with his head bowed and his voice as characterically cheerful as ever. The packaged videogame is still clenched in his palms.

"This was the last one!” he burst into the living room, voice charged with enthusiasm, “I had to sell my soul to get it but-" Sohee did not anticipate walking in on you and Seunghan sitting so cosily on the couch, nor did he feel even remotely comfortable with the sight.

Your eyes widen slightly as you push off a reluctant Seunghan who had been nuzzling in between your neck.

Sohee, who already wore his entire bleeding heart on his sleeve, allowed his smile to dim dismally.

"Oh-I,” Your mouth hung open in apparent shock, “Sohee!"

His mood plummets at the sight of you hurriedly pulling to fix the button of your oversized flannel. "I didn't think you'd be home so early," You're scrambling to pull your bra strap up. At least you had the gall to appear somewhat flustered and somewhat uncomfortable. Seunghan on the other hand, ever the quiet brood, keeps his hand on your exposed thigh, with his lips pursed tight.

"I-I'm sorry for interrupting-'' Sohee isn't sure why the apology even tumbles out of his lips but it does and it causes a very deep, scorching heat to wash across his features. "It's just..." Sohee twiddles the video game cover in hands, evading all eye contact as he begins, "I-I thought we said we'd be playing today. I rented the game and everything…" Sohee doesn't dare exchange a single glance with Seunghan as he swallows thickly, "And that's why you said I should get off work earlier."

The way your eyes expand and your hands fly to cup your mouth makes Sohee feel marginally better.

"That was today? Fuck! I'm so sorry, Hee,"

"No! Don't even stress! I should've found out if you had other plans- I'm sorry."

"Jesus, Sohee don't apologise!” You look thoroughly displeased with yourself, nothing at all like the unbothered expression on Seunghan's face as he leans his head against your shoulder, still splaying mindless kisses against your skin as if Sohee wasn't even there.

It is then that Sohee decides, with blistering conviction and a beating heart, that Seunghan just doesn't deserve you.

"You shouldn't be the one apologising." You say, beginning to push yourself up off the couch, "Here, I'll turn on the tv-"

"Do that and we'll end up missing the concert." Seunghan finally pipes up beside you, "They're front row seats, babe… c'mon"

Sohee is forced to watch as you visibly melt from another man's gaze alone. The way Seymour slithers his hand around your waist, pulling your gaze towards him while you comply like a good little girl.

Sohee tastes the bile rising in the back of his throat and swallows.

"Sohee's not gonna mind," Seunghan continues, before turning to finally spare Sohee a single diginifying gaze, "Right little man?"

Sohee could hardly even begin to exclaim that he was hardly little but instead, he swallows down his words, as he is so used to doing, and he quietly says, "If you don't go, I'll kill you myself,"

The conflicted expression across your face melts away like glaciers in the summertime and you're immediately engulfing your best friend in the most suffocating hug. He never dares move away. He doesn't even dare wrap his arms around you, because your front is pressed flush against his and the blood is already beginning to rush to his cock.

You were the very object of his every desire.

Having you so close was far too dangerous.

Sohee's eyes flutter open to see Seunghan's sharp, cat-like smile over your shoulder, immediately snapping him out of his trance, until he's detangling his limbs from yours.

Sohee spends that night, as has become custom of most of his nights; with his hand down his pants, his head thrown back against the headboard, and his eyes squeezed painfully shut.

He ruts mindlessly against his own hand; vyour panties wrapped around his aching shaft and he thinks back on hours before, when you had your arms wrapped around him. How secure he felt being held there. How right it felt having you locked against him like a puzzle piece.

"You're so pretty," he mewls into the empty open air, "You're just so pretty- fuck, you feel so good " His voice is hoarse and his limbs are shaking with the knowledge that your bedroom was right next door. Empty. Absolutely void of the warmth of your presence. "Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it,"

He doesn't dare imagine what you and Seunghan might have accomplished were he not to storm in on you. He doesn't even let the thought take any sort of shape in the chambers of his mind because that space was reserved for you and him alone and soon, Sohee is moaning into the open air, forcing his eyes open so he could watch his cum spurt onto your panties and for all of 10 euphoric seconds, he is in utter bliss.

"Did you hear anything I even said?"

"What?" He most certainly didn't hear anything you said. Far too caught up in stealing intermittent glances at your breasts practically spilling out of the bust of your sundress.

"I need to start charging your mom double," You narrow your eyes, "She pays me to hang out with you,"

Sohee pushes you sideways, nearly toppling you to the other side of the couch as he continues skating his fingers over the controller.

Through the open blinds, the night is deep and a gentle heavenly breeze flows over the little gaming den you and Sohee created since the peroration of your evening together. What was supposed to be a 'study session' quickly morphed into Sohee challenging you and your incredibly arduous pride to multiple rounds of a new videogame. You're not very good at the games but Sohee is more than comfortable withholding any unnecessary skill.

Just to make you feel like you're winning.

He'd do just about anything you wanted him to.

"I didn't even see how late it's gotten, fuck- Seunghan's gonna kill me."

The time has quite literally slipped past you both, and Sohee's stomach growls in stark affirmation. He ignores it though, pausing the game to inquire, "Who?"

"Seunghan," you say, pushing yourself up from the couch. Sohee could sense a stark impression of history repeating itself and he'll be damned if he lets it happen again.

"I forgot he invited me to go watch the fireworks.” You continue obliviously, “The show starts at midnight so I should be able to make it if I-"

"You're going out with some random guy that late at night?" The smile on Sohee's face is permanent but you can sense the apprehension in his voice. It causes you to stop your movements.

You're standing adjacent to him, with your hand hanging limply from your open bag, "He's not just some random guy, though," you hope the chuckle at the end of your sentence might alleviate what little bit of tension is beginning to stir in the air.

Sohee is quiet which is very unlike him. You have your eyes narrowed with scepticism which is very unlike you.

The entire world feels like it's about to be tipped on its axis.

"He's my boyfriend."

"Who else is going to be there?" Sohee's vicious line of questioning overlaps with your defence.

"I don't think that's any of your business..."

Sohee shrugs, with his permanent smile still etched on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees "Humor me,"

"Seunghan wanted me to meet his friends," You're not sure why you tell him but you do.

"Isn't it a little too soon to be meeting his friends?"

Your eyebrows immediately furrow as you advance in on him, "Sohee-"

He sits back and gazes up at you from his spot on the couch. "You haven't even had sex yet and you wanna meet his friends-"

"Actually we did sleep together." The lie tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can catch it and once the words are out there, taking it back is like putting toothpaste back into the bottle. Utterly impossible.

"You… what?" Sohee's sunshine smile begins to falter and it's only then that you think you might have made a very grave mistake.

"What are you talking about?" A gasp so small but so incredibly audible wrenches itself from your throat when he bolts up from the couch. Never did you think your best friend could ever exhibit any emotions besides a near constant state of joy. Seeing him so disturbed has you feeling disturbed and perhaps you wanted to step back, but his hand is locked firmly around your wrist.

"You let him..." Sohee breaks eye contact. The boy looks like his entire world is being flipped over, "No, you wouldn't..." he shakes his head. "He probably forced himself on you, didn't he?" Your eyes widen as you watch the boy you knew begin to spiral further and further. Deeper and deeper. "Fuck, I saw how pushy he was with you the other day and I didn't do anything-"

"Sohee. Seunghan didn't-"

His hands leave your wrist to cup the sides of your face, bringing your words to a startling halt in the back of your throat. His gaze is so intense, it's as if his big eyes have the power to break you apart.

"Tell me he did it." Sohee's voice is raising and your nerves are shot to hell, "You wanna tell me the only way you had sex with Seunghan was because he made you do it… but if that's not the case-" His voice comes down from his high crescendo as he says, "Then you were being a slut all on your own."

This was not the time for you to be having even the vaguest of obscene thoughts, but your best friend of endless years has just called you a slut with such genuine conviction and his words had travelled straight to your clit. A deep warmth descends over your face, perhaps from being scolded by him so cruelly. By someone you wouldn't think even has the capabilities of speaking up in a dense crowd.

Your legs nearly give out under you, and when Sohee does a very daring thing, when he lowers his face in between your neck just as he'd seen Seunghan do, you nearly topple all the way to the ground.

Nearly.

"Tell me you didn't do anything," he pouts as his lips skim against your sensitive skin. You have no idea what to do with your hands, your arms, your face or your feet and so you let him nuzzle his nose into you, while your heart beats erratically.

"Tell me you weren't being a little slut-"

"F-Fuck Sohee," the moan that's slips past your lips surprises you both. And Sohee is quick to pull away from you as if your skin caught fire. His eyes are wide and they only grow wider when they meet your heavy lidded gaze. Completely overturned with lust.

What the hell did he just do?

"F-Fuck, I'm s-sorry, I-" But you're already pressing your lips against his, your arms finding purchase over his shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer. Sohee immediately whimpers against your lips while his hands sink into the softness of your curves. It's a rabid, fierce kiss that has Sohee pushing his tongue in prematurely. You find yourself not minding all that much. In fact, his eagerness only succeeds in getting you even wetter than you already were.

"Fuck, I need you so bad-" The words flowing from your mouth are music to his very ears. When you pull away, Sohee's face is bathed in red.

"You can't say stuff like that," he whispers before reattaching his lips to the side of your mouth. Now that he had you, he'd be damned if he let you get away. He'd be damned if he didn't mark up every single bit of skin available to him.

"Don't stop," your hands find purchase in his short, dyed hair before mindlessly pushing the boy back onto the couch.

He watches with swollen, open lips as you crawl up into his lap, your sundress gathering at your hips as you straddle him.

Sohee looks down and catches the faintest glimpse of your lace underwear before immediately looking back up, as if he were looking at something he was not supposed to see. Beside his naivete being so incredibly cute, it awakens a burning warmth in the pit of your stomach that only makes you needier for him.

"Look at me, Sohee," You whisper as you splay gentle kisses across his collarbone. "You need to look at me," hesitantly, Sohee's eyes drag their way to you, just in time to watch you lift the dress up over your head. His lungs are vacuumed shut and Sohee's fingers sink painfully into your ample thigh straddling his hips as you discard the dress and your bra over your shoulder.

"This can't be real," Sohee whispers when you lift his hand to place it gently against your breasts and their puckered nipples. He immediately readjusts himself underneath you. A deeply embarrassing attempt at hiding the way his hips buck up against your core.

His neediness spurs on your arousal.

You tip your head back when you pull Sohee's head against your breasts. His lips latch onto your nipples and a dazzling, choked moan runs out of your throat. The most beautiful fucking sound he's ever heard.

"Sohee-oh my God," You're grinding mindlessly against his stiff bulge while he sucks fervently, caught in the throes of your own pleasure.

"Oh-God, you're gonna make me cum-" Your quiet moans only spur him on, and Sohee brings his other hand up to tweak your other nipple as he continues to suck while you rut against him. His cock is leaking precum and his limbs are shaking from trying by all means to stop himself from cumming before you do. When you slip into your orgasm you scream his name. Not Seunghan's, or anyone else's...

He couldn't even begin to describe it. Watching you come down from you high, flushed and chest rising and falling, felt like a fucking priveledge.

"I lied," you slip out, "I didn't have sex with Seunghan." You crawl up off his lap slowly and Seunghan's narrowed eyes follow you with scepticism. "I know- it was stupid and I just felt like you were judging me and-"

"Oh my fucking God, don't ever do that again!" Sohee places a hand on his heart as he physically deflates. Unbeknownst to him, the sneakiest smile flits it's away across your face.

"It's almost like you were jealous or something?" Between the teasing tone in your voice and the fact that you were kneeling right in front of him, rubbing against his sweater clad thigh, Sohee did not know where to place his focus. He felt himself slipping into that very needy state right before your eyes, and you were all too pleased to watch it happen.

"I wasn't..." his words ebb away into a wavering exhale when you bring your hand to the waistband of his sweats, politely urging them down just enough to place your hand over the rock hard bulge in his pants. He still hasn't cum yet and he's all too aware of it now.

"I wasn't-"

"What was that?" You're kneeling in front of him now. Dipping your head down as if you would dare let your mouth make contact.

"I wasnt jealous- F-FUCK,"

You had done quick work of pulling his cock out, letting Sohee roll his head back, careful to still keep his half lidded eyes on you.

He watches with bated breath and a helplessly pained expression as you bow your head over his shaft and spit.

"Oh my God," the second your spit connects your mouth to the head of his cock he's absolutely done for; rolling his hips up intermittently, hoping for at least the faintest bit of friction again.

"Please, please, please-" His voice breaks in between his begging and your smile only widens, "I've w-waited for so long?"

"You've thought about me like this?" You cock your head to the side as you begin to pump Sohee's cock ever so slowly. "You've been having bad thoughts about me, Sohee?"

"F-Fu- c-could you just-" He attempts to lift his hips up, guiding his glistening cock through the palm of your hand but you don't budge.

"So you were jealous then?" Sohee visibly deflates at the egotistical conviction in your voice.

You wanted to make him say it.

"Just admit that-"

"I was jealous, Okay! Fuck- I thought you could already tell!" He whines, motioning down at his aching cock leaking precum. His head rolls backwards when you resume your stroking and pick up the pace. "G-God, I've wanted you f-or so long," he can barely keep his words in his mouth and the words that do slip out, are sloppy and messy.

Sohee runs his hand through his hair as he watches you bow your head over his lap. He is utterly transfixed. So transfixed he doesn't even register that his mouth is hanging open, his tongue lolling out slightly. "D-Dont-"

His cock twitches the second your mouth encloses around the head of his cock and he's pushing you down by your head, eliciting a surprising yelp from you. "m'Sorry! m'so, so sorry, you just feel so good," Sohee clenches his teeth as he rams his cock into your mouth, and you take all of him. You take him so fucking well.

"Where can I cum?!" He manages to ask in a strained, tense voice and you lift your head like lightning, still furiously stroking his cock.

"Wherever you want."

His eyes shoot to the back of your skull and Sohee only manages to quickly reply, "O-On your tits," before you're pressing your boobs together, allowing him to shoot his load all over your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, he really does. But the little he's able to see before the pleasure takes over him completely is enough for Sohee to replay in his mind for decades.

"O-h my God," he exhales, before finally slumping back in his seat, "F-Fuck,"

You stare down at the mess he's made all over your chest, quickly promoting Sohee to do the same...

"Uh- I'm sorry-"

"Apologise one last time and you won't get to cum next time."

Sohee swallows thickly. Those two words ring louder in his ear than anything else you said: Next time.