#one of my acquaintances invited me to his party and I went

[pxrplepolkadots]

🖖

[voyter]

CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.

word count. 5.4k words warnings. jk and oc have matching costumes. vmin being the kings of halloween parties. slight crack. smut. roleplay dynamics. light bondage (handcuffs). oral (fem!receiving). handjob. unprotected sex (be safe girlies). switch!jungkook. switch!reader.

ana's notes. happy (late) halloween !!! this was originally supposed to be posted on the 30th but it wasnt finished .. so i was going to post it on actual halloween day but i got busy LMFAO IM A MESS !!! initially i wanted to do a kinktober but my ass couldnt even keep up with this so AINT NO WAYYY LMFAO IDK HOW YALL DO IT. BUT DONT FEAR ITS HERE NOW !! i had sm fun writing this, hope you love it as much as i do !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

For the past three years, Jimin and Taehyung have hosted their annual Halloween party. It's the one event they take seriously, spending hours planning the perfect invite list, décor, and food. Friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate the night, knowing it'll be full of unforgettable moments, laughter, and chaos. Jimin and Taehyung always go all out, making their Halloween gathering the event of the season.

You and Jungkook have a tradition of matching costumes. The first year, you went as Harley Quinn, and Jungkook went as the Joker. That one's still one of your favorites — especially with Jungkook's green hair and tatted up face. He looked so good that night. The second year, you went for something bloodier: you, a sexy victim, and Jungkook as Ghostface. It was thrilling, especially when he made the night even better by fucking you with the mask still on. By the third year, you went classic as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off your tits spilling out of your corset. This year, you decided to skip the fictional characters and go with something a little simpler — but still hot. You were dressed as a cop, or rather, a slutty cop, and Jungkook was the prisoner.

"Don't you think this is a little basic?"

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen at these parties dressed as vampires and cats?” you retort, adjusting your costume and checking yourself out in the mirror. “Trust me, baby, no one cares.”

Jungkook, clad in an orange jumpsuit, glares at you through the mirror. "I just hate orange," he says monotonously.

You turn around and face him, giving him a smirk. "You'll survive. Besides, you make anything look good."

He smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms snake around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His hands roam from your waist to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms, pulling you closer. But just as things start to heat up, you push him back with a playful grin.

"Not now," you say, breathlessly. "We have to be there in a few."

Jungkook huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue. And even though he's not thrilled about his costume, the way his gaze darkens tells you he's already imagining what's to come later tonight. He knows he'll get you out of that outfit later. 

When you and Jungkook walk into the party, it’s all familiar faces. Laughter and cheers erupt the moment they spot you two, with Jungkook’s arms handcuffed behind his back, the bright orange of his jumpsuit standing out in the crowd. You guide him confidently by gripping his arm, playing the role of the stern cop escorting her prisoner.

Jungkook looks equal parts annoyed and amused, his usual cocky attitude momentarily restrained by the handcuffs, though the way his lips twitch hints at his playful frustration. The room seems to buzz with energy as people start teasing him the moment you step through the door.

“No fucking way you agreed to this!” Jimin exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in handcuffs. Without missing a beat, he grabs the camera hanging around his neck, the polaroid already set and ready to capture every costume of the night. “Oh, I have to take a picture of this. Tae, hold my drink!”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin thrusts his red solo cup into Taehyung’s chest, some of the liquid sloshing out and soaking into Taehyung’s blazer. Tae rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, knowing this is typical Jimin behavior.

Jimin hurriedly pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and pulls out the polaroid camera, eyes gleaming with excitement as he positions himself in front of you. You smirk, grabbing your belt, keeping your expression serious like a true cop on duty. Jungkook plays along, tilting his head to the side with a playful pout, his lips pursed like he’s posing for a dramatic mugshot.

With a click, the camera flashes, capturing the moment perfectly. A second later, the familiar buzz of the camera sounds as the polaroid slowly rises from the slot at the top. Jimin pulls the photo out, shaking it lightly as the image begins to develop.

“Had no choice,” Jungkook grumbles. “Whatever girlfriend wants, girlfriend gets.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re so fucking whipped,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mutters, though he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “What are you two supposed to be, anyway?”

Jimin looks genuinely offended at the question, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes as if that alone should make it obvious. “Hello? Men in Black!”

He points his plastic gun at Jungkook. Beside him, Taehyung pulls out a shiny MIB card.

“Aw, I was really hoping you two would take my advice and go as Dumb and Dumber,” you pout, crossing your arms dramatically.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange offended looks, grimacing at your suggestion.

Jimin puts his plastic gun back in its holster with a flourish, shaking his head. “Respectfully, fuck you,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You playfully lift a hand as if to strike him, your expression mock serious. Just then, more people start to stream into the home, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

“Well, since we are so extremely popular, we’ll meet back up with you guys soon.” Jimin says, turning to Taehyung, “We’ve got more people to greet.”

“Don’t get freaky in any of the bedrooms! I swear on my life I will kill you both,” Taehyung exclaims, shooting a warning glance over his shoulder as he follows Jimin into the crowd.

You roll your eyes, amusement dancing in your gaze.

"Alright, baby, can you take the handcuffs off now, please?" Jungkook whines, eyebrows knitting in genuine discomfort. "My arms are starting to hurt in this position."

"Keep begging like that, maybe I will," you tease, enjoying the playful power dynamic between you two.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer to amp up the charm. "Oh, please, officer? I promise I'll be such a good boy,"

You scrunch your nose in exaggerated disapproval. "Never do that again," you reply, trying to sound serious but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting, as you turn him around, your fingers brushing against his wrists. The thrill of the moment sends a rush through you as you unlock the cuffs with the small key, the metal clinking softly as you release him.

He turns around, his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer, the warmth of his body igniting a spark of electricity between you. You smile up at him, feeling a thrill at the proximity.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and playful. “Now who knows what kind of crimes I’m gonna commit again?” He looks down at you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Careful, prisoner,” you warn, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you tonight.”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, a grin spreading across his face. “I promise to behave… for now,” he replies, the challenge in his tone clear as he leans in just a little closer.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and despite your attempt to keep things light, the air feels charged with unspoken tension. “You’d better,” you say, trying to maintain an authoritative tone but failing as a smile breaks through. “I don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “But I can’t help it if I’m naturally inclined to break the rules when I’m around you.” With that, he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers, “What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you step back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart racing. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, shaking your head, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“Only for you,” he quips, and the way he looks at you… you just know this Halloween night was going to be wild.

You stood corrected.

A few drinks into Jungkook's system, and any pretense of annoyance about the costume was long gone. His hands seemed to find your waist every chance they got, fingers tracing the curves of your hips with a needy grip. His lips, once teasing, were now constantly seeking yours, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips whenever you were within arm's reach.

Even in a crowded room, Jungkook's attention was locked on you, his dark gaze following your every movement. And each time you caught him staring, he'd flash you a cheeky grin before pulling you into another heated kiss, making it clear just how much he was enjoying your costume — and the power it had over him.

Getting a drunk Jungkook home was a damn task. The moment you got him in the car, he was all over you. As you navigated through the quiet streets, his fingers slid up your thigh, kneading it with a firm grip that sent sparks of heat racing through you. Each touch made focusing on the road harder, especially when he leaned over the console, his lips grazing your neck in a series of lazy, warm kisses.

"Jungkook, you need to calm down," you warned, trying to keep your focus on the road as his kisses sent shivers down your spine.

He huffed, not wanting to stop but eventually relented, throwing himself back into his seat dramatically. He crossed his arms like a child who'd been denied his favorite toy, his lips forming a deep pout.

You glanced over at him, biting back a smile as he sulked in his seat. "Aw, I’m sorry baby. Almost home, then you can do whatever you want," you teased, knowing full well that his patience would snap the second you both stepped through the front door.

Like a bunny, his ears seemed to perk up at your words, his pout disappearing instantly. He sat back in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his face, the sudden shift in his mood almost comical. It was as if he'd forgotten all about sulking, now fully focused on the promise you'd made.

Surprisingly, Jungkook behaved as you both got out of the car and made your way to your apartment floor. He walked beside you quietly, though the anticipation was clear in the way he kept glancing at you, his grin never fully fading. His restraint was impressive, given how wild he'd been earlier, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

The second you unlocked the door, though, all that restraint snapped. Jungkook practically pounced, pushing the door closed behind you as he pressed you against it, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands were everywhere at once — grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your back while the other dipped dangerously low.

Your sloppy kisses didn't break for a second as you stumbled through the apartment, laughter and heated breaths filling the air until you reached the bedroom. The second you got to the edge of the bed, Jungkook gave you a playful shove, making you fall back onto the mattress with a grin tugging at his lips. His eyes never left yours as he hovered above you, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss, his hunger for you palpable.

His mouth began its slow descent, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in its wake. When he reached your cleavage, he paused, his lips lingering there as his fingers found the zipper of your bodysuit. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, freeing your breasts from the fabric. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, a low groan escaping his throat.

Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation sent a shudder through your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your back arched in response. Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, gripping the soft strands, guiding him as he lavished attention on you.

Jungkook's mouth left your bud with a soft pop, his lips slightly swollen as he looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration. Without wasting a second, he pushed the rest of the bodysuit down your frame, his hands quick and eager as he stripped you of the remaining fabric.

“You seduce all the officers like this?” you tease, your voice light but laced with a hint of challenge as you looked down at him at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook paused for a second, momentarily confused by the question. But then it clicked, and when he realized you were still playing into the roleplay from earlier, his expression shifted. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he fully embraced the dynamic again.

“Only the ones I can’t resist,” Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

His teasing words sent a shiver down your spine, the tension between you both thickening with every passing second. His hands moved with skilled precision as he unzipped your boots, tugging them off one by one. The boots were discarded carelessly, the clatter of them hitting the floor barely registering as Jungkook’s focus remained fixed on you, eyes dark and full of hunger.

With a firm grip, Jungkook tugged at the bodysuit, sliding it off your frame in one fluid motion, the fabric slipping away as easily as the last remnants of his restraint. He didn’t stop there — your fishnets followed quickly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His gaze devoured you, his eyes darkening with each lingering second on your bare skin. He bit into his bottom lip, his excitement almost palpable as his eyes traced every curve of your body like he was committing each inch to memory.

Grabbing your ankle, he lifted your leg gently, a smirk playing on his lips as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from your ankle up toward your inner thigh. Each kiss sent a jolt of heat through your body, his touch maddeningly slow, teasing you with every lingering press of his lips.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise, before kissing your thigh once more. “I did promise to make it worth your while.”

“Show me what you got, criminal,” you smirk, your voice laced with challenge and desire.

Jungkook’s smirk matched yours, his eyes darkening with intent as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding easily over your legs. The second they left your skin, his gaze fixed on the damp spot left behind, a low moan escaping his lips as his hunger for you deepened.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness left on the cloth before lifting his eyes to meet yours, his smirk widening. “Already so wet for me, officer.”

The playful teasing from earlier had melted away completely, replaced with raw, undeniable need. Without hesitation, Jungkook lowered himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. His lips hovered just above your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before he leaned in, determined to show you exactly what he had in store. His tongue made the first slow, deliberate pass over your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

Your body reacted instinctively to the sensation, arching your back slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. You melted into the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through you, the intensity of it all leaving you breathless. 

It was when he latched his mouth onto your clit, the cool metal of his lip piercing sending shockwaves through your body, that you felt a fresh wave of ecstasy wash over you. Your body shook involuntarily, a reaction to the exquisite pleasure he was delivering.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, your voice breathy and filled with longing as you looked down at the man between your legs. Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smirk as he enjoyed your reaction to his ministrations. 

"Yeah?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your slick heat, sending a shiver up your spine. "Am I a good criminal, officer?"

Though it had started as playful banter back at Jimin and Taehyung’s house, the way Jungkook was slipping into this submissive role now felt different — kind of sexy. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking up at you, it was doing things to you that you hadn’t quite expected.

You bit your lip, nodding as you reached down, finding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "Mhm, so good for me," you whispered, the words coming out more breathless than you intended. The shift in the dynamic added a new layer to the tension between you both, and you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

He hummed in satisfaction against your skin, his tongue working skillfully, each stroke more deliberate than the last, as if determined to draw every last sound of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the tension building within you, and with every flick and suck, he pushed you further into a state of bliss. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. You could feel yourself unraveling, bit by bit, under his expert touch.

You lift your other hand, your fingers tangling in his soft, raven hair, pushing it back to reveal his forehead. The sight of his knitted eyebrows makes your stomach flip — he always does that when he’s savoring something, and right now, that something is you. Your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, and you can't help but buck your hips slightly, your body moving instinctively as you practically ride his face.

Your moans become louder, filling the room with the raw sound of pleasure, almost pornographic in intensity. The way his mouth moves against you, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing, drives you wild. You feel his moans vibrate against your sopping pussy, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The more you push him into you, the more he responds, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. You’re lost in the heat of the moment, each wave of pleasure building to something inevitable, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

With one final buck of your hips, his nose pressing firmly against your clit, the pleasure overwhelms you. Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cum against his face. A loud, raw moan tears from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your orgasm takes over. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest — if anything, it only drives him further.

He stays right there, nestled between your legs, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of your release. If he had it his way, he'd happily stay there forever. His hand gently caresses your thighs, soothing you through the aftershocks as your body relaxes, your breathing still ragged as you come down from the high.

Jungkook removes his hand from yours gently, rising up from the floor. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed, hovering above you with a smirk that sends a thrill down your spine. His mouth glistens with a mix of his saliva and your slick, a tantalizing reminder of what just transpired. 

Without warning, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the intimacy of the moment amplifying the heat between you. You feel him grinding his hips into your heat, seeking relief for the ache in his cock, and it drives you wild. The friction ignites another wave of desire, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

He leans back down, reconnecting your lips, unable to get enough of you. The urgency in his movements tells you he's craving more, needing the connection as much as you do. Without breaking the kiss, you smoothly shift positions, pushing him back onto the bed. His body sinks into the mattress, and now it's your turn to be on top, looking down at him with a teasing smile. You sit up, fingers working the buttons of his jumpsuit as he watches you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Do good prisoners get anything in return?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Yeah," you say with a smirk. "Freedom."

Your giggle fills the room as Jungkook kisses his teeth in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes at your cheeky response. Still, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, showing he's just as amused as you are.

"I'm sure there's other officers that'll give you something," you tease, your fingers still working on the jumpsuit.

"What if I want someone in particular?" he responds, his tone more serious, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," you murmur.

With a smirk, Jungkook sits up swiftly, his hands making quick work of pulling the jumpsuit off his frame. The fabric falls away, revealing his toned, broad chest — the very sight that always makes your breath hitch. You can't help but admire him for a moment, your eyes roaming over every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the way his abs tense under your gaze.

He catches the look in your eyes, his grin widening as he notices how you're practically staring. "Like what you see, officer?" he teases.

Ugh, slut.

"You know I do," you reply, your fingers tracing over the tattoos decorating his skin before you press your lips against his again, losing yourself in the kiss as your bodies draw closer.

Your kisses travel south, lips brushing over the warm skin of his neck, chest, and abs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When you kneel between his legs, you can't help but notice how hard he is. A wet spot glistens where he’d been grinding against you earlier, evidence of the friction that’s left you both desperate for more.

"Baby, hurry up," Jungkook whines, his voice thick with impatience, the need evident in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Refer to me correctly," you command, wanting to tease him just a little longer.

He chuckles softly. "Officer, please hurry up," he says, playing along, his words dripping with need.

“Good boy,” you coo with a smile.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his jumpsuit and boxers simultaneously, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock springs free, hard and eager, the pink tip glistening with precum. It’s begging to be touched, twitching slightly under your gaze as you admire him, and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You let your hand glide slowly up his thigh, teasing him with featherlight touches, savoring the way his muscles tense under your fingers. Jungkook's head falls back against the mattress, a low, desperate moan slipping from his lips as he exhales, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation building between you.

You giggle softly, enjoying how easily you’re driving him wild. Finally, you wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock, your fingers squeezing his length gently but firmly. His reaction is immediate — his hips buck slightly as he lets out a deep, shaky moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans, his voice low and husky, the sound making you smile even wider.

You start to stroke him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him pulsing in your hand. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and his eyes squeeze shut in bliss. The way he reacts to every little movement you make has you feeling powerful, completely in control.

"My pussy turn you on this much?" you tease, your voice dripping with playfulness, a smirk tugging at your lips as you continue to stroke him slowly, deliberately.

Jungkook's moan deepens, his hips bucking slightly into your hand, completely at your mercy.

"Always," he groans, his voice breathless. "Can never get enough of it."

Such a sweet boy. You reward him by quickening your strokes, picking up the pace and driving him wild. His response is immediate — his body tenses, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

Jungkook's hand darts to yours, gripping the one resting on his thigh, his fingers intertwining with yours tightly. His touch is needy, desperate, as if holding on to you will keep him grounded while the pleasure you’re giving him threatens to overwhelm him.

His breath becomes ragged as you continue working him expertly. He bites his lip, trying to hold himself together under your touch. You can tell he’s getting closer, every stroke pushing him toward the edge.

“W- wanna cum in your pussy, please,” Jungkook whines, his voice trembling with need.

You smirk, teasing him further. “Do you?”

He hums in response, the sound more like a moan, his desperation palpable.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pull away from his cock, climbing on top of him, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Leaning down, you capture his lips with yours, and he responds eagerly, his hands sliding down the arch of your back, gripping your ass tightly, kneading it in his large palms.

Then, without warning, a sudden surge of dominance overtakes him. In one swift move, Jungkook flips you both over, hovering above you with a glint in his eye. He gives you a teasing peck on the lips, but before you can react, he flips you onto your stomach, effortlessly manhandling you as though you weigh nothing.

With your back turned to him, the sound of rustling heightens your anticipation. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but the moment you feel his grip on your arm, your heart races. The cold, familiar touch of metal against your wrist makes it clear — he's handcuffing you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as he tightens the cuffs around your other wrist, pulling your arms behind your back. You’re completely at his mercy now, and the vulnerability only fuels the fire between your legs.

“Am I still a good boy?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Bad boy,” you manage to reply, though the excitement surging through you betrays your words. The restriction, the control — it all makes your pussy throb with need.

The sound of the slap reverberates through the room, sending a sharp sting of pleasure coursing through your body. You jolt forward, moaning in response, your skin tingling from the impact. Jungkook grabs the chain of the handcuffs, pulling on it slightly, adding a thrilling sense of restraint to the moment. 

His other hand grabs his cock, and you feel the deliberate tease as he slaps it against your pussy, spreading your slickness over his length. It’s torturous — how long he’s making you wait. But finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slowly pushes himself inside you. 

You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, while Jungkook releases a low, guttural groan, his breath catching at the sensation of being enveloped by your heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling, his fingers still gripping the handcuffs. The tension in the air is palpable, each movement sending shivers down your spine as he begins to move, his hips rocking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Your breath comes out in heavy gasps, your face buried in the mattress as his pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with a steady rhythm. The sensation of being filled so completely has you whimpering, your body melting into the bed as you push back against him, craving more with every stroke. Each thrust is more intense than the last, the bed creaking beneath you as the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoes through the room.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the handcuff chain, yanking you back harder onto his cock. “All your other prisoners fuck you this good?” he growls. 

A smirk curls your lips. He’s still milking this roleplay. He doesn’t voice it out, but he feels your pussy clench around him. You like this.

“Only you,” you moan, your voice breathy.

“That’s right,” he groans, his tone low and possessive.

Jungkook's pace quickens, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room, his thrusts relentless. The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall. He yanks the chain of the handcuffs harder, pulling your body back onto him in sync with every deep, punishing thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, your moans now uncontrollable as the pressure builds to an almost unbearable height. Every drive of his cock inside you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, his roughness pushing you to the brink. His deep groans mix with your cries, the heat between you reaching its peak, and you can feel yourself getting closer, your climax just within reach.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice rough and low, dripping with lust. The heat in his tone sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you can only nod, your voice caught in your throat as a moan escapes your lips, barely coherent.

His cock drags against your walls, hitting that perfect spot over and over, each thrust igniting a fire within you. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as the pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, building towards a breaking point.

“Come on then, baby,” he growls, pulling you back hard against him, his grip firm and possessive. “Be a good officer and cum. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yes! Yes! You deserve it so much!” you manage to reply, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m such a good boy for you, huh?” he presses, his breath hot against your ear, his hips driving deeper.

“Such a good boy, my baby,” you affirm, your voice trembling with need. 

With a few more final, deep thrusts, your body shudders as the last waves of your sweet release ripple through you, your pussy clenching tightly around him. That tightness pushes Jungkook over the edge, and with a loud, needy moan, he releases into you, his hips faltering as he shoots his load deep inside. His groan fills the room as his cock throbs within you, emptying himself completely, the warmth of his cum spreading through you.

For a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air as your bodies stay connected.

Jungkook carefully unlocks the handcuffs, freeing your wrists from the restraints. He tosses them aside, his concern immediately turning to you as he notices the redness on your skin. Gently, he takes your wrists in his hands, massaging them softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, his voice tender and full of concern.

“No, baby,” you reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, easing the tension he’s holding onto. You give him a few more sweet pecks, including one on his cheek, his boyish charm making you smile.

After cleaning up and peeing to avoid an infection, he helps you settle into bed, pulling you into his arms. His warmth envelops you, his face nestled against your neck, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your skin. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, holding him close as the moment quiets. The heat from your bodies mingles with the gentle stillness of the room, creating a cocoon of intimacy and comfort that lulls you both toward sleep.

As your eyes grow heavy, his voice breaks the silence, low and a little playful. "I think I enjoyed that costume more than I thought," he murmurs against your neck.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[heavqn]

Coriolanus as the peacekeeper, being completely mentally unbalanced, possessive and controlling, while he fucks the reader who is totally naive and can't refuse since Coriolanus is basically keeping her alive and feeding her, it all happens in the cabin. and they are almost discovered by her friend Lucy Gray.

It can include size difference perversion, Coriolanus has a hyper fixation with how shy and naive the reader can be, manipulation, doubtful consent.

Can you add any plot? I'm not a fan of angst though. If you take it, I THANK YOU.

i loved this request!! i kind of went totally overboard and i don't think i stuck to your request quite well but i hope you still enjoy it 😭

cw; fingering, sort of controling? coriolanus, allusion to piv but there isn't any. usage of yn like three times. i think that's all. not my finest writing, apologies </33

Being in District 12 was no party. It was as miserable as life got, until she met Lucy Gray of course. Lucy Gray had taken her under her wing, no doubt becoming like a sister to her. She taught [ y/n ] her favorite songs, her favorite stories and even let her have some of her pretty dresses.

She was basically part of the covey though she had known her for such a short amount of time. When Lucy Gray was reaped, she felt like she was too. A part of her went into that arena with Lucy Gray and she was frightened everyday until she came back unscathed. 

With Lucy Gray’s infamous return to the District came plenty of singing and dancing back in the Hob. It wasn’t until Lucy Gray was a bit way into her song when she noticed a familiar pale, blonde-haired boy watching her. Though the realization of who he was had been cut short by Billy Taupe and his drunken-state, she was both shocked and excited to know he was there.

The next day, she saw him yet again. Maude Ivory had made way to them though and she had to leave. But it didn’t stop her from inviting him to the lake, promising him only the covey knew of its existence.

On the way to the lake, Coriolanus had made his acquaintance with a few others from the covey. One in particular stuck in his mind though; [ y/n ]. She had a quiet tone and was a bit clueless to jokes that others made. He noticed how she stayed close to Lucy Gray, whispering to her and then looking at him.

And if the shyness and naivety hadn’t got him, seeing her come up from under the water definitely did. Her hair clung to her back and the make-shift bikini she wore did little to cover her boobs as he saw her nipples poking from under the fabric. 

He was fascinated by her. She was dumb, to say the least. Usually such things would turn him off and make him go the other way, but he reveled in the way she clung to his every word once the two had become close. 

They often spent time together at the lake; his idea. This particular day, he had convinced her to go skinny-dipping. “What if someone sees us?” She had questioned, voice quiet as if anybody was around to hear her. Only the covey and him knew about the lake; she knew this, he knew this. The possibility of anyone coming out this late wasn’t likely.

Though he had to admit that the thought did cross his mind as well. So he prompted her with another idea, “We could go to the cabin instead.” His intentions would’ve been clear as day to anybody else, but she was entirely lost. “What are we gonna do in there? It’s boring.” She pouted. 

Most nights at the lake were spent listening to him talking as you nodded along, pretending to understand what he spoke of. So when you made your way inside the cabin and got comfortable on the rickety bed, Coriolanus started to speak about his home. 

“I can’t even imagine what the Capitol is like.” She told him in response to his question of if she’d come home with him. “It’s amazing. Organized, powerful. Nothing like the districts. I think you’d fit right in.” His words had her shaking her head.

“I couldn’t leave twelve. My family is here; Lucy Gray is here.” He rolled his eyes. “You’d be with me. I’d buy you the finest things the Capitol has to offer.” The thought of leaving the covey left a bad taste in her mouth, but the promise of pretty things had her looking up at him with curiosity.

“What kind of things?” She questioned. He smiled, knowing he had piqued her interest. It was too easy sometimes. “Clothes, jewelry, makeup. Anything you can dream of.” His hand had made its way to her arm, caressing it as he watched the way her eyes lit up from his words. “Even flowers?” He let out a soft laugh, “Even flowers.” 

She fell into him, back meeting his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist. “You know what else the Capitol has?” His fingers went under your shirt, dragging across the skin of her abdomen. She felt that tingling sensation she often got when she was with him. 

While they talked a lot when together, she’d also had sex with Coriolanus a lot. It wasn’t a hard thing to convince her into. Her first time was in the lake; it wasn’t comfortable or convenient, but he was a desperate man. She had just talked about how she was a virgin and he was immediately interested in taking that title away from her. So it was no surprise when the next time they met up, he had her under him once again and every time after that.

He told her that she owed it to him. He was protecting her; would she rather it be him or some pervert from the district? He knew what he was doing and he gave it how she liked it. He guaranteed that none of these boys could even dream of doing it like him and she agreed. He was unfairly good at it and knew what had her cumming in no time so who was she to deny it?

She was dragged out of her thoughts as his hand went further under her top, moving to grasp her boobs. She let out a shaky sigh at the feeling, listening to him speak. “I asked you a question.” He reminded her; his voice deep and firm in her ear as he his hands continued venturing her body.

“What else?” She responded, not necessarily caring for anything else at this moment besides being held close to him. “Lingerie. You know what that is?” He questioned her, and the way her face screwed up let on that she didn’t have a clue as to what he had said. “I don’t know what that is.” She admitted softly, feeling embarrassed he had once again caught her in a stump.

“It’s a type of clothing women wear. Nice and lacey; Bet you’d look real good in it.” He spoke to her in that same deep voice he always did, but it felt heavier this time. He was building her up just so he could break her. “What do you think?” He shifted the conversation back to her, knowing she’d get riled up.

“I think–I think it’d be nice to try it on. Is it like a dress?” She asked curiously, not quite envisioning what this lingerie was that he spoke of. He laughed at her question, taking his time to trail his hands down the length of her skirt. “No, no. It’s like an undergarment; Ladies wear it for men.” He tried to explain, feeling her body melt into him as his fingers went to push her skirt up, giving him access to the place he wanted.

Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, again. “So it’s like fancy underwear?” Hearing the word underwear only brought more of her innocence to his attention. “Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” He praised, fingers trailing on the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she needed him.

“What makes it different from regular underwear?” She was curious now. Ladies wear it for men? Ladies always wear underwear, she thought. He smiled at how interested she was in this topic, but it was clear she was struggling with her words in the way her breath hitched and how she melted impossibly closer to him, when he finally got to the cotton of her panties.

“Well, you don’t wear it everyday. It’s for special occasions; For times between a man and his woman.” He told her, finger playing with the hem of her panties, teasingly snapping it back and into her skin. “Like–Like us, Coryo?” Her voice was but a whisper when she shyly asked the question.

He reveled in the way his pants tightened at how innocent and naive she was. It made it impossible to hold back the way he smiled into her neck, placing open mouthed kisses over her skin. “Just like us, bunny.” He whispered in her ear, finger finally slipping under her panties and going to feel how wet she was.

“Got you all hot and bothered just from a simple conversation. We haven’t even kissed and you’re already soaked.” He teased her, fingers coming out from her panties to show her just how wet she was. “‘m sorry.” She squeaked out, feeling embarrassed at his words and seeing his fingers covered in her juices did nothing to help that feeling.

He swore he could’ve cum right then and there. The way her body tensed up at his words, and the way she became beat red when she saw his fingers; he was ruined. He wanted nothing more than to be inside her, watching as she squirmed to take him; she would be so thankful for it, a mix of “please” and “thank you” ‘s no doubt on her lips with every thrust.

She was obedient; sometimes too obedient. He just craved one time when she would slip up, so he could punish her. But he knew she never would. She listened to his every word, and she’d be damned if she upset her Coryo.

He squeezed her hips, telling her she had nothing to apologize for. “It’s a natural thing. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He told her, the words like honey as they slipped out of his mouth. “Just don’t be getting this way for anyone else. Promise?” He all but commanded her, quickly discarding her panties before placing her right back in front of him; back to chest. “I promise, Coryo. Only you.” She was quick to agree with him; it’s all she’s good for. Simply a parrot of his words, aiming only to agree and copy everything he said. 

He didn’t give her anything else but the feeling of his fingers rubbing her clit as a response. The lack of warning had her surprised at the touch, shocked for a second. But he used his other hand to hold her back against him, keeping her still and pliant. “Don’t move, bunny.” He scolded her, continuing his assault on her delicate bud. 

It was hard to not move, but she persevered. Keeping her composure against him as she let moans and whimpers slip through her lips. “Coryo,” She called out his name, looking up at him with her soft eyes, silently begging him for more. 

“Need something?” He questioned, a smirk evident on his lips from how still so she was yet her mouth moved so much. He knew what she wanted, he just wanted to hear it from her. She spoke softly, the words not quite hitting his ears, but he heard her. Though he chose to tease her once again. “What was that, bunny? Gonna have to speak up.” His fingers ghosted over her entrance, feeling the way her legs so easily fell wider, giving him more room. 

“Need your fingers. Inside me, please.” She pleaded again, a little bit louder than before but no doubt quiet compared to the sound of her heavy breathing. “Why didn’t you just ask?” He smiled sickly at her, leaning down to kiss her as one of his fingers slipped inside her.

The moan she let out had his tongue easily slipping into her mouth, mixing their saliva together as their tongues glided over one another. He made quick work of putting another finger in her, curling them as they went in and out of her. The squelching sound of it all made her cringe on the inside, but the pleasure he was giving her was more interesting to act on. It was all too much; she broke away from the kiss, forehead still against his.

“Thank you, thank you.” She fed him her appreciation, knowing it was exactly what he wanted. She didn’t mind giving it to him either. She was thankful he chose her, thankful she was the one who had his fingers inside her. “Such good manners, bunny.” He responded, feeling her hand trail onto his head, grasping at practically nothing as his buzzcut allowed him little hair. 

He put yet another finger in, picking up his pace altogether whilst his other hand moved to rub her clit. The feeling of him on her skin, everywhere, had her on fire. She was going to burst into flames. She almost did–Until a sudden rapping was heard at the door.

“[ y/n ]? Are you in there?” The voice called for her, now recognizable as Lucy Gray’s. She stayed silent, not wanting to rat herself out, but when Coriolanus whispered into her ear, telling her to respond, she had no choice but to.

His fingers didn’t let up, and now he was kissing at her neck, interested in what she was going to do. He didn’t quite care about being caught; she was the one naked with his fingers deep inside her. “Yes, I’m–I’m in here!” She called back, unsure of what else to say?

“You okay honey? You sound awfully out of breath.” Lucy Gray voiced her concern, worry laced in her words as she moved to turn the door knob. “Yes! Yes, I’m okay. Please don’t come in.” She yelled back shakily; she was getting closer to the edge and if Lucy Gray came in, then it would all go away.

“Are you sure?” She questioned, wanting a final answer before she left the girl alone. “I’m s-sure, Lucy Gray. Nothing to worry ab-about.” She tried to assure her, hoping her words did what she wanted. It was getting hard to breathe with how quick and tentative Corriolanus’ touches were, nonetheless talk.

“Okay. I’ll leave you alone now.” Lucy Gray spoke to her. Whether Lucy Gray was still standing at that door or not, she couldn’t keep quiet now. His fingers curled right where she wanted, and his other hand was not letting up its assault on her clit.

“Coryo, Coryo.” His name fell out of her lips easily, arching into him, legs growing shaky at the feeling she was having. “Talking to your friend like that as if my fingers aren’t inside you right now. Such a dirty little girl.” He chastised her, but his words held no real malice.

It wasn’t long before she met her release, cumming on his fingers. Even then he didn’t stop, continuing to drag out her high. “‘nough. Can’t take more, Coryo.” She told him, shakily pushing his hands away from her. He all but laughed, doing as she asked.

“Can’t even take me inside you, bunny?” His voice was teasing. But the second she heard those words, she was up at his disposal. Ready for anything he gave her.

[dlscenarios]

How I Long For Our Trysts

Anthony Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

I finished reading The Viscount Who Loved Me & i'm already missing this fictional man like he's my husband that went off to war.

Also ofc the title is a Taylor Swift reference. What else is new?

Cw: AFAB Reader + a few brief mentions of Reader being a lady, Bridgerton-typical society talk, Reader & Anthony are pretty handsy, No foreplay, Unprotected sex + Creampie

You were going to be the death of him.

Anthony Bridgerton always knew he was going to die young, but he'd always thought it would be a similar death to his father's — sudden and perhaps by the stinger of a measly bee — yet the agonizing wait for you to appear in the doorway of his study might do him in first.

His mother had invited what felt like hundreds of singles in the ton for another one of her house parties at Aubrey Hall. The woman was relentless in her task of marrying off her children, although she seemed to focus more on Anthony than his brothers. To the viscount's dismay (he was ashamed to admit his simultaneous delight), you were one of the invited guests. Anthony's mother had no idea that you and her eldest son had already become well acquainted with each other, having met earlier in the season.

You had a distaste for society and its strict rules, something that both intrigued and infuriated Anthony. You conducted yourself in a way that haunted his very being. Had you been a smidge less cynical, you would fit Anthony's idea of a perfect viscountess exactly.

Since your first meeting, the viscount would see you everywhere. At the shops, the park, every ball, there was even a time Anthony could have sworn you were in his bed beside him only to find out it was just an all-too-real dream. In hopes of getting you out of his head, he began pursuing you. Not in hopes of marriage, Anthony had carefully planned out every minute you shared together to avoid such a thing, but in hopes of turning his dream into a reality. And it worked. It worked far better than Anthony thought it would. Every moment he spent getting lost in your body felt better than it had with any of the women he had slept with before. He craved you more than he had ever craved anything in his entire life. While your moments together were fleeting, he made every minute count and seared the memory into his brain. 

Now that you were under the same roof as him, he could barely hold himself back. His siblings had coerced you to join their game of Pall Mall earlier in the evening and each time your ball and his sat near each other, it took every ounce of Anthony's strength not to pull you to the side and kiss you senseless. After the game, he stepped closer to your side, inconspicuously whispering into your ear to meet him in his study at midnight. If everyone else in the house was asleep, he could have you all to himself for hours. As long as the two of you ended up in your respective bedchambers by dawn, no one would be any wiser.

While waiting for the clock to strike twelve, Anthony tried to keep himself busy by going over a few papers, but eventually the dry scratching of his quill and the flickering light of the candle beside him began to make his head spin. Tossing the pen to the side and rubbing his face with his hands, the door finally creaked open. Leaning back in his chair, a smirk grew on Anthony's face at the sight of you shutting the door behind you.

"Took you long enough." he quipped, gazing at you with tired eyes. You returned his smile and approached the desk.

"It is better to be safe rather than sorry, my lord. I did not want to risk someone catching me outside of my chambers like this~" Your hand began to fiddle with the hastily-tied knot on your robe. With a light tug, the robe was untied and fluttered open to reveal that you donned only a chemise under it.

Anthony sucked in a breath, dark eyes trailing over your figure. Yes, he had seen you in less before, but you looked too damned stunning in everything you wore, no matter how many layers it consisted of. Even at the social events both of your families "coincidentally" attended, he could not tear his eyes away from you.

You stepped closer to his side, his hand wasting no time in settling on your hip. He was looking at you like how a puppy eyed its beloved owner. You kept that analogy to yourself, knowing full well that he would rid it the moment he became aware of it, but it was perhaps the most beautiful look he had ever worn. Your opposing hand came up to graze his cheek before your fingertips peaked into his hair. Anthony's eyes fluttered shut, leaning into your hand and turning to press a soft kiss to your palm.

"Always so eager." you said, smiling down at your lover. You caught the faintest, briefest smile on his lips before he kissed your palm once more with a deep hum.

"You cannot blame me." Anthony's voice was low and filled with passion as he replied, "Not when I have the prettiest lover in all of Great Britain," he paused to squeeze your hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of your chemise, "Right at my fingertips."

"Aw..." you teased, leaning down to meet his lips. Anthony lets out a low moan into the kiss as his hand slides from your hip to around your waist, guiding you down to straddle him in his chair. Your warmth was the comforting sort, the image of you in his lap serving as a reminder that Anthony had you. You were his, sitting so prettily above him, and deep down, while it hurt his pride to admit such, Anthony knew he was yours.

In the glow of the fireplace, the two of you held each other close, hands exploring previously conquered patches of skin. You had tugged his vest open as one of his hands slid under your chemise to grab your ass. His lips had left yours to trail hot kisses along your neck. Your breathy pants fanned against his ear while he suckled your clavicle, wishing so desperately that he could leave a mark. Anthony knew he couldn't. You were out in society, someone the viscount had sworn to never rope into his rakish encounters. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin your reputation and find himself at the receiving end of your relative's pistol.

Anthony let out a low growl, pushing away the niggling reminder that he had compromised you. What a hypocrite he was. Had one of his sisters been in your position, he would have ripped their lover to shreds, but something about you felt different. A warm and welcoming feeling that Anthony had never experienced before. A feeling that was suffocating him as he lifted his head to peck your jaw before guiding you into another kiss.

You yanked at his shirt, ripping the top buttons out of their holes. Anthony groaned as your hand trailed down his clothed chest, grazing over his stomach and inching closer to his waistband. His lips leave yours, pressing a feather-light kiss to your cheek before his own hand slips down to meet yours, expertly unbuttoning his trousers.

Anthony Bridgerton was never a patient man, something you had known since your first night together. He was never selfish — in fact, he was quite a generous lover, always checking to make sure he wasn't moving too fast — he merely found it difficult to hold back at times. You were a drug. Perhaps the only thing that could make him completely drunk, aside from the occasional brandy. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, he gazed up, his dark eyes shining with a lustful glint as they met yours.

You shifted above him and pulled up the skirt of your chemise enough for him to line up with your entrance. His free hand rested on your hip before slowly guiding you down to take him in. With a groan, he squeezed your ass as you situate yourself in his lap. His hands slid up to your hips, urging them to roll toward his.

Anthony held you close, enough for him to lean forward and mouth at your clothed chest. You always felt like heaven, so hot and tight. You made him feel alive. Anthony groaned against your chest as his fingers dug into your skin, mirroring the new grip you had on his shoulders. Your soft moans against his ear spurred him to help quicken your grinding, guiding you along the length of his cock.

Before you had met the viscount, you had known of his rakish ways from Whistledown's column. The woman had never been wrong so you had no reason to disbelieve her reports on Anthony's past conquests. Opera singers, actresses, several women in London's brothels, he had allegedly bed them all. He was the biggest rake in all of Britain, yet as he held you tight and fucked into you as if he loved you, you couldn't bring yourself to regret meeting him. It could have been your inexperience in these sorts of encounters, but you could have sworn the Anthony Bridgerton you saw during these nights was a better man than the one Whistledown knew. He was always so attentive and skilled and beautiful and...

You contracted around him, ripping a gruff moan from your lover's lips, his gaze focused on your connection as he controlled the movement of your hips. His short nails bit through the thin cotton of your chemise, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours.

"Fuck..." Anthony groaned almost too quiet for you to hear. He always found it hard to last longer than you, yet another difference between you and his past lovers. He was already close and, judging by the way your moans took on a higher pitch, you were not far behind. One of his hands left your hip to slip under the bunched front of your dress, thumbing your clit in the exact way he knew you liked.

You squeaked out a moan, your grip on the back of his shirt hardening. "Anthony...Oh god, Anthony..." you repeated his name like a prayer.

Suddenly, your orgasm hit, stilling your hips and moaning into his shoulder. Like he always did, Anthony coaxed you through your release, continuing his ministrations and pressing soft kisses to the side of your head. Once your moans subsided, the hand on your clit left to rest on your back. You kept your face buried in his shoulder as he panted into your ear, his own sounds growing closer together as he chased his release.

You lifted your head enough for Anthony to steal your lips again. With another groan, he thrusted up into you one last time before his come began to fill you. He held you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss.

You moaned and weaved your hand into his hair. You didn't want the kiss to end. The moment it did meant your time with Anthony was coming to an end. You would have to return to your bedchamber alone, knowing the man you had accidentally started falling for was under the same roof.

Meanwhile, Anthony had no plans of letting you go once leaving your lips to catch his breath. He glanced to the nearby clock. It was only one in the morning, plenty of time to keep you locked in the study with him. He should be free to have you until six, when the maids would begin wrapping their wake-up calls on the residents’ doors. After only a few gulps of air, Anthony's lips were back on yours, keen on having you in every position he's dreamed you in.

Anthony Bridgerton never planned on catching feelings. Hell, his entire plan for the season was to find a wife he wouldn't fall for, yet as he admired you in the euphoric state he had put you in, he was starting to think his plan had failed.

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 你伤了我的心。 ⸻[Everything, my everything...]

Summary: "Even if there is another life, I hope I never cross paths with you. You make me sick." It was what you thought as you listened to him talk to his ex.

Genre: suggestive, fluff, against.

C/w: Heeseung being an jerk, confusion of feelings, cheating(?), story written from third person. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Curses, crying, unrequited love, virginity taken.

A/N: I don't even have words for what I wrote... I shed a tear while writing this. I hope you all like it + When “[...]” appears it is an improved version of “y/n”.

If you are interested in knowing more about this story, please read these two: ⒈ ⒉

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[...] was flipping through a history book, his fingers absentmindedly sliding across the yellowed, image-filled pages, dictating to his partner, Jake, important parts which to write down in the notebook. They were in the library, finishing a project for school. The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

"[...]?" Jake broke the silence, his voice soft but firm. "I think we could use this information for the presentation, I mean, to focus the idea from the beginning and attract everyone's attention."

[...] nodded, not really looking at what Jake was pointing at. His mind was elsewhere, lost in memories and emotions that he still couldn't fully understand.

Ever since he had kissed him, everything felt different. He clearly remembered the moment, two weeks ago, when Heeseung had kissed him passionately, mistaking him for Chloe. Later when he went to his house to apologize, an apology that had been clumsy, and although Heeseung had tried to explain that before Chloe, he had had feelings for [...], words had not been enough to heal the wound he had left.

Just then, a tall, thin girl with wavy blonde hair approached them. It was Minjeong, a mutual acquaintance he had with his former best friend, Heeseung.

"Hey guuuuys," she said with a beaming smile. "I'm hosting a party this weekend. Would you like to come?"

[...] took his eyes off the book, looking up, a little surprised. He hadn't expected an invitation to a party, much less from someone related to Heeseung. He looked at Jake, who looked just as bewildered as he was, but then nodded.

"Sure, Min. We'd love to go," Jake replied, trying to keep his tone enthusiastic.

The rest of the week passed quickly, but not without incident. [...] noticed Heeseung's possessive gaze following him through the school hallways several times. Heeseung had once tried to approach him while he was at his locker, but Jake had appeared just in time, grabbing him by the shoulders and leading him to chemistry class.

"Thanks, Jake," [...] murmured, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. Jake just nodded, his face serious, clearly determined to keep [...] safe from further confusion and pain.

The day of the party arrived. [...] decided to go to his room after school to change. He was looking for a suitable t-shirt when his friend appeared at the door of his room, spreading his arms as soon as [...] opened the door, making him laugh at how he raised his eyebrows in search of his approval—about the look.

"Do you need help?" Jake asked, with a mischievous smile.

[...] nodded and let Jake rummage through his closet. Finally, the brunette took out a dark blue t-shirt, with some letters and a drawing in the middle of it.

"This one would look good on you," Jake said, extending it to him.

"Thank you very much, my moon," [...] said with a smile, noticing the blush on his friend's ears but deciding not to say anything.

Ethan began to take off the shirt he was wearing, and Jake, seeing Ethan's naked torso, couldn't help but blush brightly. He turned around quickly, pretending to search for something else in the closet to avoid looking at him.

"Okaaay, I like what I see," [...] said with a smile, still noticing the blush on his friend's cheeks after he turned around. [...] put on the shirt Jake had picked out for him and looked in the mirror. "I think we're ready."

As they left the dormitories, night began to fall, covering the campus in a blanket of stars. The two walked along the street-lit path, their shadows lengthening behind them. The night breeze was cool and pleasant, and there was a sense of anticipation in the air.

"I hope the party isn't too loud," [...] commented, adjusting the shirt. "At least... I hope she don't make her neighbors call the police again."

"Meeting Minjeong and Karina when they're drunk, it'll be like last time," Jake replied with a smile and a soft laugh. "But maybe it would do us good to relax a little."

They arrived at the bus stop just in time to see their transport approaching. They climbed in and sat together in the back, watching the city lights flash past the window.

"Are you nervous about seeing Heeseung?" Jake asked, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

[...] shrugged, looking out the window as he thought about everything that had happened. "I don't know, Jake. Part of me wants to talk to him, but another part of me is afraid of what he might say."

Jake slapped him on the thigh. "I'll be with you. You don't have to face it alone."

The bus stopped near Minjeong's house, and the boys got off, grateful for the warm summer night that enveloped them. As they walked towards the house, they could hear the rumbling of the music and laughter coming from inside.

It was almost 9 p.m. when they arrived at the door of Minjeong's house. The party was already in full swing, with people dancing in the room and groups gathered around the drinks table. The colorful lights illuminated the living room, and the atmosphere was electric.

"[...], Jake!" Minjeong greeted them enthusiastically, opening the door for them. "I'm so glad you guys came!"

Minjeong's smile was contagious, and the boys immediately felt welcome. [...] exchanged glances with Jake, who nodded slightly, as if reminding him that he was there for him.

As they walked deeper into the crowd, [...] couldn't help but look for Heeseung, his emotions constantly shifting between hope and fear. He knew that tonight could change everything, and a part of him was ready to face whatever came, while the other wanted to run away.

The music pulsed around them, and [...] tried to relax, taking a drink Jake offered him and allowing himself, at least for a moment, to enjoy the company of his friends.

To tell the truth, he moved through the party with a naturalness that surprised even himself. At first, he had felt the typical tightness in his chest when arriving at a place full of people, but the atmosphere had enveloped him, helping him relax, just as the brunette said. The loud music encouraged him to move, to greet acquaintances and to let himself be carried away by the moment.

With a drink in hand, [...] approached a group of classmates who were talking about a couple of gossips going on on campus. Their laughter and light jokes alleviated the restlessness that had accompanied him since the beginning of the night. Little by little, he felt more in his element, smiling and laughing with an ease he had forgotten he possessed.

Jake, meanwhile, watched [...] from a couch in the middle of the living room. A part of him was happy to see his friend enjoying himself, but another part, smaller but impossible to ignore, He felt a pang as he saw how others also enjoyed his company.

He settled back on the couch, pretending to be more interested in his drink than [...]'s figure. But his eyes betrayed him, searching for him in the crowd, always aware of where he was and who he was talking to. His feelings for [...] were complicated; he loved him more than a friend, but he was also afraid of ruining what they had by trying something else, given the circumstances.

Jake noticed a change in the atmosphere of the party when he saw Heeseung at the edge of his vision, slowly moving towards [...]. The crowd seemed to open up for him, as if fate itself was conspiring to bring them closer. Heeseung had that inscrutable expression that Jake had come to know well, a mix of regret and determination.

As Heeseung approached, Jake felt his heart race, a mix of worry and jealousy coursing through him. He wanted to protect [...] from any further pain, but he also knew that there were issues between [...] and Heeseung that needed to be resolved. Still, a part of him wished that [...] wouldn't fall back into the arms of Heeseung, who had already caused him so much pain.

Finally, Heeseung reached [...], gently touching his arm to get his attention. [...] turned, and when he saw him, his smile faded a little, replaced by an expression of caution.

"[...], can I talk to you?" Heeseung asked, his voice barely audible over the music making him lean closer to one of [...]'s ears.

[...] hesitated for a moment, his gaze briefly meeting Jake's, who offered him an almost imperceptible nod, a reminder that he was there if he needed him.

"Fine.." [...] finally responded, his voice calm but filled with unresolved emotions. He followed Heeseung to a quieter corner of the house, away from the hustle and bustle of the party.

Jake watched them walk away, a feeling of helplessness settling in his chest. He wanted [...] to be happy, even if it meant letting him go with Heeseung. But, for now, all he could do was wait and be ready to offer his support if things didn't go the way his best friend hoped.

In the secluded corner of the house, Heeseung and [...] faced each other, surrounded by the dim light and the murmur of distant music. The tension between them was palpable, and [...] prepared himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have.

"Heeseung, what do you want?" [...] asked, his arms crossed in a defensive posture.

Heeseung swallowed, his eyes searching [...]'s desperately. "I just want you to know how sorry I am, sweetheart. Everything that happened... was a mistake, and I haven't stopped thinking about it."

"It was a mistake that apparently took you a lot to understand," [...] replied, his voice heavy with sadness. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you, or even want to see you."

"I understand," Heeseung nodded, his voice breaking. "But before everything got complicated, you were important to me, more than I wanted to admit. I want to try to fix things, if you let me."

[...] looked at him, his emotions a whirlwind. He remembered all the moments he shared with Heeseung, the good and the bad, and how he had always felt a special connection with him. But he also remembered the pain of hearing Chloe's name leave Heeseung's lips that night.

The way he leaned towards him looking for a trace of her, and the betrayal that had left a scar on his heart.

"I don't know, Heeseung," he finally said, his voice soft but firm. "I can't promise you that I will believe you, that day you made it clear that you are very good at lying."

Heeseung looked at Ethan with a mix of nervousness, fear, and determination. "We can go to a quieter room to talk better, the music is too loud," he suggested, his voice barely audible.

[...] nodded, although something inside him was hesitant. However, his curiosity and the need to close that chapter prompted him to follow Heeseung up the stairs to the second floor of the house. They passed through a narrow hallway before stopping in front of a half-open door. Heeseung gently pushed it away, revealing a small but cozy room.

Inside, the party music was just a distant murmur, providing a much more intimate setting for the conversation to come. Heeseung closed the door behind them and turned to [...], his expression a reflection of the internal struggle he felt.

"Hee, why are we really here?" [...] asked, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture. "Why did you want to talk now?"

Heeseung took a deep breath, his eyes meeting [...]'s with an intensity that made him shudder. "I needed to explain to you, [...]. I needed to tell you why I kissed you that time, and why it meant so much to me... It still sounds like a lie."

[...] kept his gaze fixed on Heeseung, his heart pounding. "Then speak," he said, his voice shaky but firm.

Heeseung took a step forward, the closeness between them increasing the tension in the air. "The first time I kissed you, yes, I did it thinking about Chloe. But the instant our lips touched, I knew there was something more. The way you kissed me, [...], was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. More real, more authentic."

[...] watched him, his expression cautious as he processed each word. "And Chloe?" he asked, remembering the pain of hearing the ex-girlfriend's name.

"Chloe was important to me, but I realized that I was clinging to an idealized image of what we had, of something that will never happen again," Heeseung confessed. "When I kissed you, I realized that what I really wanted was to be with you, [...]. It took me a while to admit it, but in the end, it was you I wanted in the first place."

As Heeseung spoke, he slowly approached [...], his hands rising to rest gently on [...]'s waist. The boy's eyes shone with a mixture of surprise and suppressed excitement, but also with a lingering fear of being hurt again.

In the hallway, just outside the room, Jake stood listening to the conversation, his heart heavy with the mix of emotions that overwhelmed him. He had followed [...] and Heeseung out of an impulse that he couldn't ignore, and now, the words he heard left him on the verge of despair.

Watching Heeseung approach [...], touching him with a familiarity that Jake wanted for himself, was like a stab. Jealousy burned inside him, mixed with deep sadness.

He knew that his love for [...] was stronger than he had admitted, and seeing Heeseung about to kiss [...] again was a painful reminder of his own position, of his cowardice for wanting to wait for "the right moment" to be honest with him.

Jake couldn't take it anymore. When he saw Heeseung lean in to kiss [...], he stepped back, feeling the world around you crumble. He couldn't stand there, watching a moment he wanted more than anything unfold.

As he walked down the stairs, the music and laughter of the party seemed dull compared to the tumult in his chest. Before leaving the house, Minjeong stopped him, grabbing his wrist, noticing his disturbed expression.

"Jake, are you leaving already? It hasn't been long since you and [...] arrived..." Minjeong said, her tone worried.

Jake forced a smile, trying to hide his true feelings. "Yes... I think it's better for me to go. I think a punch made me sick and I feel like vomiting."

Minjeong looked at him with understanding, although without knowing the real reason behind his leaving, Jake wasn't the best at lying. "Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I was glad to see you here."

"Thanks, Min," Jake replied, before quickly walking out the front door.

The walk back to [...]'s bedroom was a blur for Jake. Each step seemed heavier than the last, and his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Upon reaching the bedroom, he had unconsciously fallen into [...]'s bed, the place that offered him a small comfort in the midst of his anguish.

Tears began to fall as he buried his face in [...]'s pillow, allowing the sadness and frustration to release. It was a bitter comfort, knowing that his feelings for [...] were real but not reciprocated in the way he wanted.

Despite everything, Jake hoped that [...] would come back, that he would see what he really meant to him. With that thought, he fell asleep through tears, longing for a future where their love was not a secret, but a shared reality.

On the other hand.

In the room, the air was thick with tension and expectation. Heeseung and [...] were alone, with only the soft hum of the party in the background. The closeness between them seemed to intensify every small gesture, every look.

Heeseung approached slowly, his eyes locked on [...]'s. There was a vulnerability in his expression that the boy had not seen before, as if all the barriers Heeseung had built had vanished in that moment.

"[...]," Heeseung whispered, his voice filled with emotion and regret. "I'm really sorry for everything I put you through."

[...], still feeling the weight of Heeseung's words, found himself torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a new beginning. His emotions were a whirlwind, but there was a part of him that wanted to let go of the pain and find something real with Heeseung.

Heeseung raised a hand, gently placing his fingers on [...]'s cheek, tracing a tender path along his skin. [...] didn't pull back, instead he closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel the warmth of Heeseung's touch.

"I've missed you, prince," Heeseung confessed, his words barely a whisper as he leaned forward, almost brushing his lips against each other's.

[...] opened his eyes, finding Heeseung's just inches away. Time seemed to stop as they both immersed themselves in the moment. With silent decision, [...] closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Heeseung's in a slow, gentle kiss.

The kiss was a delicate touch at first, a cautious, fearful exploration. But the built-up tension and unexpressed feelings quickly transformed it into something deeper and more urgent. Heeseung's lips moved against [...]'s with a fervent intensity, as if they were trying to convey everything that words couldn't express.

[...] responded in kind, his hands finding their way to Heeseung's hair, pulling gently, allowing himself to fall into the intimacy of the moment. It was as if every touch, every whisper between them undid the pain of the past, replacing it with something warm and new, something pure.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around [...], pulling him closer, as if afraid the moment would fade. The heat of their bodies melted into a palpable connection, and with each shared kiss, the barrier between them crumbled a little more.

[...] found himself backing away, his legs finding the edge of the bed. They sat, their lips still joined, gently exploring each other's every curve and corner. Heeseung let his hands wander, tracing a path down [...]'s back, exploring the familiarity of the body he had missed so much.

The outside world faded away, leaving only the soft intimacy between them. Heeseung, feeling the weight of the moment, paused, pulling away just enough to look [...] in the eyes.

"Are you sure of this?" Heeseung asked, his voice soft but serious. There was a sincere desire to make sure this was what they both wanted.

[...], breathing slightly hard, nodded, his eyes shining with a mix of determination and longing. "Yes, I'm sure, with you I will always be willing to do anything."

With that permission, Heeseung continued, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time with a tenderness that said more than any passionate statement. His hands moved carefully, gently guiding them to a more comfortable position on the bed.

Clothes were set aside with deliberate care, as if each piece removed was one step closer to the truth of who they were to each other. Their bodies met, skin against skin, sharing warmth and silent promises.

The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of longing and nervousness. While their lips remained united in a deep kiss, [...] felt the outside world fade away, leaving them alone in their little shared universe. A bubble.

Heeseung, with an almost reverent tenderness, began to let his lips wander past [...]'s mouth. With each kiss, he traced a slow, passionate path along his jawline and down to his neck. [...] let out a soft sigh, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the new caresses and sensations that Heeseung caused him.

Heeseung's kisses were like delicate flames, lighting up every part of [...]'s body they touched. They ran down his neck, leaving a trail of heat that made [...] shiver. When Heeseung's lips reached his collarbone, [...] let out a small moan, surprised by the intensity of the desire he felt.

Heeseung smiled against his boy's skin, enjoying the power of each touch. "I want you so bad, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse and charged with emotion. There was a fervor in his words that left the other boy breathless.

[...] opened his eyes, meeting the burning gaze of Heeseung, who was watching him with a mix of adoration and desire. "Me too," [...] replied, his voice barely above a murmur as his heart pounded in his chest.

Carefully, Heeseung continued to explore [...]'s body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. Each touch was a reminder of the deep connection they shared, of how much they had both longed for this moment.

[...] found himself panting, his back arching as the caresses intensified, his breathing quickening as Heeseung continued his stroke. It was a mix of desire and vulnerability, knowing that he was giving up a part of himself that he had never shared with anyone.

When their lips finally met again, it was as if the world had disappeared, leaving only the warmth and passion they shared. [...]'s moans mixed with Heeseung's, creating a soft symphony that filled the room.

As the passion between them grew, [...] allowed himself to get lost in the moment, letting go of all doubts and fears. With each touch, he felt the pain of the past fade away, replaced by a deep, authentic connection.

Heeseung, feeling the boy's complete surrender, hugged him tightly, their bodies fitting perfectly as if they had been made for each other. "You're so... fuck, tight. You're all I need," Heeseung murmured against [...]'s lips, his voice full of sincerity.

[...] looked into his eyes, seeing in them a truth that filled him with hope. "And you are everything I've ever wanted," he replied, allowing their lips to meet once more in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate.

As the night wore on, they gave themselves completely to each other, their bodies and hearts intertwined in an intimate dance that was both a discovery and a reaffirmation of what they truly meant to each other. It was a moment of purity and connection, where passion and love were in perfect harmony.

Thus... in the refuge of that room, Ethan and Heeseung found a new beginning, a place where his fears and doubts faded away, leaving only the promise of what could be.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

The next morning.

Heeseung woke up early, the morning light softly illuminating the room. There was a serenity in the air, a calm respite after the storm of emotions that had occurred the night before. Beside him, [...] was sleeping soundly, face down, with the sheet barely covering his hips. Heeseung smiled as he looked at [...]'s relaxed figure, admiring the curve of his back and the softness of his skin.

Carefully, Heeseung let his fingers roam over [...]'s bare torso, slowly tracing the contours of his skin, remembering how that same skin had felt under his hands the night before. There was a peace in the gesture, a tranquility that made him feel complete, like everything was finally in its place.

[...] began to wake up, his senses taking in Heeseung's gentle caresses. A lazy smile appeared on his lips as he kept his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and affection emanating from his lover's fingers. He stretched slightly, his muscles relaxing, preparing to turn and meet Heeseung's face.

But just as he was about to do so, a voice interrupted the stillness of the morning. It was Heeseung's voice, speaking in a low tone to someone on the phone. [...]'s curiosity was piqued, and he decided to stay in his position, pretending to be still asleep while listening to the conversation.

"Chloe, you know how much I miss you," Heeseung said, his voice thick with emotion and nostalgia. "You don't know how much I wish things were different."

Heeseung's words fell on [...] like an icy wave. His body, which minutes before had felt warm and relaxed, began to tremble, first with surprise, then with rage. He felt his heart constrict, each word piercing his skin like swords of boiling silver stabbing into his back.

"I went to the party last night expecting to see you... but instead I got a big surprise" Heeseung continued, not realizing the damage he was causing. "I still think about you all the time, you just drive me crazy."

The feeling of betrayal washed over [...], and the pain was so intense he could barely breathe. The night before, the surrender, the vulnerability he'd shared with Heeseung, it all felt like a monumental mistake.

He regretted having slept with him, feeling exposed and cheated. Every word that came out of Heeseung's mouth hit him hard, filling him with a bitterness he had never experienced before.

Tears began to fill his eyes, blurring his vision as he struggled to maintain control and silence. He felt small and dirty, as if everything he had meant to Heeseung the night before was nothing more than a cruel illusion, again he felt like an object, a sexual one. The love he thought he had shared had turned into bitter mockery, and the pain he felt now was indescribable.

[...] could imagine Heeseung's face, smiling into the phone while he was probably looking for a way to hide him. That girl's voice, her laugh, everything about her caused you rejection. Why she? Why couldn't he stop last night? Was there such a need to get excited again?

Finally, he heard the click of the phone being hung up and felt Heeseung roll over in bed, facing away from him. That was his moment. Heartbroken and his emotions overflowing, [...] carefully stood up, trying not to make a sound as he quickly dressed. Every movement was an effort, as if his body was resisting accepting the truth.

He managed to leave the room without being noticed, his hurried steps taking him away from the source of his pain. He ran, not stopping until he reached the safety of his own bedroom.

When he walked in, the first thing he saw was Jake, who was asleep in his bed. But the sound of the door closing woke him up, Jake quickly sat up, his expression changing as he saw the anguish on [...]'s face.

"[...]," Jake said, his voice filled with concern as he stood up to go over to him.

Ethan couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed to the ground, tears flowing uncontrollably as he sobbed with a despair that shook him completely. Jake rushed to his side, kneeling to hug him tightly.

"What happened, my sun?" Jake whispered, wrapping [...] in a warm, protective hug. His lips rested on [...]'s head in a gesture of comfort, gently kissing that area.

[...] clung to Jake, hiding in the shelter of his neck as the tears continued to fall. He felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, each one a reminder of the unrequited love he had given to Heeseung. The pain was so intense that it seemed like a physical force, a tightness in his chest that left him breathless.

"I loved him more than anything in the world," [...] said between sobs, his voice shaking with pain and rage. "Why did he have to do this to me?" he shouted between cries.

Jake held him tighter, his own emotions stirring at seeing [...] so broken. "I don't know, [...]. I don't know," Jake replied, his voice soft but firm as he tried to offer him much-needed comfort.

[...] sobbed in Jake's arms, his body shaking with each ragged breath. Jake held him firmly, gently stroking his back, trying to calm him down. Time seemed to stand still while [...] vented, but Jake knew they needed to talk about what had happened.

When [...]'s sobs began to subside, Jake pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look him in the eyes. [...]'s were reddened and filled with a sadness so deep it broke his heart.

"[...]," Jake said softly, choosing his words carefully, "what exactly happened?"

[...] inhaled deeply, trying to put the words together as he felt his chest tighten again at the memory. "Last night," he began, his voice shaking a little, "Heeseung and I…we were together. I was so stupid. I thought there was something more, that he really cared about me."

[...]'s words were an echo of his most painful thoughts, and as he spoke, he felt exposed and vulnerable. It was as if every word he said opened an even deeper wound.

Jake felt a pang in his chest as he heard the confession. His heart sank as he imagined [...] and Heeseung together, beyond a relationship or a kiss, together, in bed, sharing sighs and promises. The image filling his mind with a mixture of sadness, jealousy and anger. How could someone be stupid enough to hurt him.

Although he had witnessed their connection at the party, hearing it from [...] was an unexpected blow, a reminder that her own feelings for Ethan were, for now, an unrequited love.

Despite the sadness that washed over him, Jake knew that his pain wasn't what mattered right now. It was [...] who needed comfort, who needed to feel loved and supported. So he suppressed his own feelings and focused on [...], on being the friend he had always been...

"Hey," Jake said, his voice soft and comforting as he placed a hand on [...]'s cheek, wiping away a tear that was still glistening. "You're not stupid. You went with what you felt, and that's brave, not stupid."

[...] looked at Jake, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and pain. "But I was wrong about him, Jake. He used me…he's still in love with Chloe."

Jake nodded, understanding the weight of betrayal [...] felt. "So? Heeseung just doesn't know how to appreciate what's in front of him," Jake said firmly. "But don't let his mistake make you feel less. You are an amazing person, [...]. You deserve someone who values you completely, you deserve to be loved."

Jake continued to caress his arm, his fingers moving in small comforting circles. "I know this hurts now, and it probably will for a while. But I'll be here, by your side, no matter what happens."

[...] nodded slowly, absorbing Jake's words, allowing himself to feel a small relief at his loyalty and unwavering affection. "Thank you, Jakey. I don't know what I would do without you," he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude.

Jake smiled, trying to instill some hope in [...]. "You don't have to worry about that, because I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, I'll always be there for you, my moon."

Ethan leaned into Jake, allowing himself to rest in his embrace, finding comfort in the certainty of his friendship... yeah. He felt that even though his heart was broken, there was a light in the darkness, a hand that held him when he needed it most.

As the sun moved across the sky, filling the room with its warm light, Jake and [...] stood there, side by side. [...]'s wounds would take time to heal, but with Jake by his side, he knew he would find the strength to keep going, one day at a time.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I won't lie, I was mostly inspired by the song Margaret (lana del rey) and like I said in my other account, I would make you suffer.

아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara.

[iridiss]

Mystreet has brilliant potential as a more “innocent and casual” modern au of Diaries to be the universe that heals all the heavy scars that Diaries left behind.

In Mystreet, Laurance’s dads are both alive and the Zvahl family lives as a very happy nuclear family. Sasha and Laurance had a small grudge in their childhood over Laurance leaving the gang in his freshman year, but when they’re older they make up and stay close friends.

Zane and Aphmau used to bicker a lot in their childhood (and very much still do on occasion in their adulthood), but somehow ended up forming a tight-knit friendship over their shared autism I mean interests, making Aphmau one of Zane’s first ever friends. Zane ends up becoming deeply loyal to Aphmau as a true and genuine friend, who would do anything for her and do his best to keep her from harm when the chips fell down. He becomes integrated into Aphmau’s group of found family. He could never dream of hurting her.

Garroth and Zane struggled in their childhood to connect, with Zane’s constant attempts to push everyone away and appear guarded and non-vulnerable, but when dire circumstance finally forced Zane to put his ego aside and open up for once in his life, they do end up connecting and becoming incredibly close as brothers. ((GUYS. REVERSE OF THE IRENE DIMENSION SCENE IN STARLIGHT GUYS. INSTEAD WE HAVE GARROTH FIGHTING HIS LITTLE BROTHER WHILE ZANE BEGS THAT THERES STILL GOOD IN HIM AND TO COME BACK TO HIM AND BE BROTHERS AGAIN. THEY REVERSE THE ROLES IN MYSTREET. AND THIS IS HOW THEY HEAL. FUCK YEAH))

Jeffory lives. And though he and Katelyn still had their break-up, in their later years they still keep in touch, occasionally seeing each other again as Jeffory is invited to house parties and holiday celebrations. He’s happily married to a new wife, who doesn’t die, and raises his daughter in peaceful bliss. He and Zane never meet.

Gene becomes a good guy. More specifically, he becomes a caring older brother and partner. There’s never any point where he and Dante don’t keep in contact. In his childhood, Gene was an edgy emo prick desperate to be cool and superior through manipulation and blackmail, but he mellows out a lot in his 20s, because in this universe, he doesn’t have any reason to keep fighting. Life is good, no one ever betrayed him (aside from Laurance leaving the gang, but when he’s an adult his perspective on that changes from “how could you leave us for a goody-two-shoes PREP life” to “yeah that was very understandable tbh we were NOT a healthy clique lmao”), he was never killed, no one is making him fight for anything, nothing is there to make him bitter and angry and vengeful. There’s nothing to avenge. So he’s happy. He loves his little brother, he loves tormenting him and teasing him, but at the end of the day he would die for him. He loves his doting parents, he’s a happily married polyamorous husband to both Zenix and Sasha forever and I will die on that hill, he reconnects with Laurance and apologizes for all the trouble they had in their youth. Laurance forgives him with a laugh and a joke, the two hug it out, and stay acquaintances. Laurance forms a closer bond with both Zenix and Sasha as a result.

Zenix and Garroth are best friends, especially when they’re adults. It takes them a bit, because in highschool I imagine Garroth would know Zenix as “one of the kids in that mean-looking ruffian gang that made my boyfriend Laurance cry, so fuck you” or even alternatively, if you’ll allow me to be a bit more self-indulgent, “that’s Zane’s weird little friend that comes over sometimes and is very loud and breaks things on occasion.” But like. they can’t NOT be friends in this universe. they should get to maintain their old bond in this universe. Where Zenix is like an additional little brother to the Ro’meave family. Once they become friends, they never have any fallout or problems, they stay friends, and Zenix is very worried about whatever the hell went down on Starlight and very badly wants to make sure that Garroth is okay.

This is the universe where the Diaries characters and their relationships in Diaries are allowed to happen again, but this time, it happens without any of the conflict that tore people apart. There’s no war to fight, there’s no shadow knights that do dastardly things, there’s no heaven and hell colliding that forces people to pick sides—they just get to live. And if life is good and normal and happy for all of them, how do they change? What bonds never die, that did prior? They all get to be friends in ways that they never could before. Zane never goes on a murdering spree antagonizing all of Phoenix Drop for years, so he’s able to meet Nana and the two fall in love, when in Diaries the two never even met. They were always too far apart to have met (and frankly I bet Diaries Nana would have a lot more violent words to say to the man that terrorized her best friend and new home). Zane becomes friends with Aphmau, of all people. Laurance keeps Sasha as a close friend. They heal, man.

travis is an exception to this rule though, he does not get to heal in this universe. it gets worse for him actually

[justhotfantasies]

My friend Clara and my husband don’t get on. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen her as much as I would have liked over the last twenty years and I’m pretty sure that’s why I got an invitation to her son’s wedding and he didn’t. Whatever the case I was booked into the Golden Lion hotel where the reception was taking place and I was decked out in what I thought was my classiest outfit: a red satin dress that clung a little more tightly to my middle-aged body than it had when I bought it,  and I’d put on party make up for the first time in ages.

It was getting late. I’d had a few drinks. I’d chatted to a few old acquaintances and had a few laughs and was thinking about going to bed when a voice said, “Hold still.” A good-looking young man of about twenty-one that I recognised as the best man was holding up his phone and pointing it at me. “For the record” he said as I smiled and he took my picture. A moment later he was standing close to me showing it to me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for a dance, OK?” he said with youthful enthusiasm.

I’ll be honest, I felt a small thrill of excitement at the thought. But I’m forty-five and married so didn’t think much more of it until he reappeared holding out his hand and saying “Now. That dance.” A little flattered and very surprised I took his hand and he led me onto the dance floor. It was a slow number and I became aware as we danced that I was becoming aroused by this young man’s hands on my body and his breath in my ear; by the movement of his chest against my breasts and his groin against my stomach.

The next few minutes are a blur. One moment we were on that dance floor. The next we were in the lift heading for the third floor and our lips were pressed together, our tongues were lashing at each other and our hands were exploring each other’s bodies. The next moment we were in my room pulling at each other’s clothes and all thoughts of my husband had vanished from my head as this young man, young enough to be my son, and I tumbled onto the bed.

His thigh ground against my pussy as my tongue danced with his. His hand explored my full mature tits as mine clutched at his tight young arse. His cock grew hard against my soft middle-aged stomach and a part of me - a part perhaps that recalled the freedom I had at his age - yearned to feel it inside me; yearned for a simple, primal, uncomplicated, undomesticated fuck.

I rolled onto my back and spread my legs. Nestled between them I felt his slim hips against my thighs as his cock moved against my wet pussy and then I gasped as he entered me, stretching me inside and sending waves of pleasure out through my body. I clutched at his strong young shoulders as he thrust deep inside me and my hips rose to meet him. Wrapping my legs around him I urged him on as he began to fuck me with a youthful vigour and urgency I’d long forgotten.

As if in a haze, at a distance, I could hear myself moaning, panting, urging him on as with thrust after thrust shock after shock of sensual joy surged through me; building, surging, rising to a crescendo until, clutching at him, the sheets, the bed, anything I could get my hands on, I came. My whole body shook as I pulled him to me and, a few moments later, I felt him swell inside me and, with a few deep determined thrusts he flooded my mature married pussy. 

He rolled off and we lay panting for a while. Me more than him - I hadn’t had that much exercise for quite some time. Eventually he got dressed and went to his room and I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in some time

[chaithetics]

Can you please do something like youngest Roy is secretly dating Stewy and he sees Lucas Mattson hitting on her. And he gets jealous and wants to go public with their relationship thank you!!!!

Jealous Disclosures

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Author's note: Thank you so much for this request Nonnie! I'm sorry for the delay in getting it out to you! It's been busy and I take a bit longer with jealousy/find it harder to write. I really hope you enjoy this, please do let me know! Also, this is obviously not proofread lol. I hope you all enjoy it and would love feedback :)

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, some smut, jealous Stewy, icky Lukas Matsson, and douchey, douchey Roman! (Sorry about that).

*****************************************

It was Kendall’s 40th birthday party. You knew that this event was going to be something else, Kendall Roy always went above and beyond for a party, especially when he was in these kinds of states. Your more timid nature in comparison to your siblings' abrasive one meant that you naturally weren’t the biggest fan of big events but you could and would be able to suck that up for a night for your older brother. 

You and Connor were the only ones of your siblings to have been officially invited. It was especially tense amongst Roy siblings at the moment, which was saying a lot because frankly, when wasn’t it? Fortunately not being involved at Waystar meant that you didn’t have to bite the bullet and deal with the tension like the middle three Roy children did. But you certainly still felt its effects. 

You were in a corner chatting away with Rava, you’d gladly clutched to her company as soon as she had arrived despite the fact that she initially wasn’t intending to stay for long. She was the nicest and most genuine of any of the partners that the Roys had ever brought back to the family. Well other than Willa you quickly thought, you liked Willa and had from the get-go, she was down to earth and easy to get along with. She also made an impressively good balance to the often well-intending but very chaotic nature of your eldest sibling. 

“Wow wee, Little Bo Peep!” A voice blurted, grabbing your attention and forcing you to turn. You found that Roman had awkwardly jumped onto the seat next to you with a poor landing that he brushed off as he completely ignored Rava, solely focusing his attention on you. 

“Wait what? Is that a nickname? What kind of nickname is that? And  Rava was talking-” 

“The kind that losers like you get.” He instantly quipped back. 

“How charming.” You sighed as you took a sip of your drink. 

“You didn’t bring a date?” Roman questioned. 

“Rava and I were having a conversation, Ro.” Roman just looked at you blankly. “Remember Rava? Kendall’s wife for over a decade, the mother of your niece and neph-” 

“Hey Rava,” Roman says turning to face her for a brief second before turning his attention back to you, Rava just scoffs, already exposed and more than used to these antics. “So, did you bring a date?” 

“No, did you?” 

“Not tonight didn’t really feel like it.” He says dryly and then looks back up at you. 

“Fair enough.” You respond. Anxiously waiting. 

There’s bound to be more. There’s always a biting and inappropriate comment seconds away from leaving Roman’s mouth. 

“But so, are you like seeing anyone?” 

“What the fuck Roman?!” You spoke and Rava had an expression of disbelief over the audacity of Roy men but not in shock, she was well acquainted with it. 

“Well, I’m not asking because I’m interested. Because trust me, I’m not.” He says with that proud, troublemaking smirk. 

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Perfect! I’ll take that as a no!” Roman practically leapt out of his chair in the most chaotic way possible. He pinched your arm once he was out of his chair as he grabbed your arm to pull you along. 

“Ow!” 

“Come on, I barely touched you. I want you to meet someone.” Roman said as he held your arm in his grip leaving to navigate the crowd. “You have treehouse access right?” 

“I was talking to Rava, Rome!” You said trying to squirm your way out of his grip. 

“She’ll still be there and if not, you can get brunch and get drunk off mimosas and cry over those really mean but rich Roy men.” He teased as he said the last half of that sentence in a mock crying voice. 

“Jesus, Rome!” You sighed. “Who are you introducing me to?” 

“Lukas Matsson.” 

“Wait what?” You halted in your tracks making Roman stop his walk, he turned to face you looking irritated that you’d delayed his plans. You weren’t too familiar with the name but you recognised it, certain that Kendall had mentioned it earlier in the week. 

“Kendall won’t give me fucking  treehouse access!” Roman practically shouted, loud enough to be heard over the party, and then his voice quietened down to a more reasonable volume. “And Matsson’s like a weird, bored giant apparently so I’m introducing you two. I don’t know, maybe money once removed from the family business is new money’s type?” 

“Before we even get into what you just said, did you only come to Kendall’s party because of that guy?” You sighed and asked looking at Roman. He scoffed and looked down for a moment, kicking at nothing.

“It’s in our name isn’t it?” He looked back up, with a smirk on his face.

“Oh my god Rome.” 

“What, come on. You’re my little sister, not my mom so maybe quit that tone, yeah? And maybe Matsson will be a philanthropist and you can get off your moral high horse and you two can fuck it out and I’ll be namedropped in your wedding speeches. Doesn’t sound too shabby for a Roy does it?” Rome quipped, in his cartoony, douche voice, signalling that talking to him was a losing battle. “Just get me in, maintain a conversation for a couple of minutes and I won’t tell everyone about that summer with mom.” 

“You’re such a tool.” You huffed out and started walking towards the treehouse.  

“You adore me.” Roman teased as he held your arm less tightly than before as you made your way over. 

“So, as the adored older brother you are, you’re trying to pimp me out for a business deal?” 

Roman just laughed at that and didn’t answer. But that verbal silence minus the laugh was more than enough of an answer. You entered the treehouse with surprisingly little fuss. You looked around and raised an eye at Roman.

“The Swedish giant over there. Come on, get that award-winning therapist smile out. If you diagnose him with something in five minutes, I might say happy birthday to Ken-doll.” 

“You’re literally the biggest jerk of my brothers right now, you know that right? And I have three, so that kind of says a lot.” You said quietly, as Roman and you made your way over to the tall blonde man that looked bored out of his brains. “Full disclosure, I’m telling Ken about this.” 

“Ugh, you’re such a bitch. Do you really need to be a narc?” Roman said as you both continued to walk over. 

You rolled your eyes at your brother, as you got closer you were able to fully see the tall blond man. Personally, you thought it was almost rude, the way he was sitting and playing some crappy game on his phone, looking the most bored you’d ever seen someone. He was like a child dragged along on errands with their parent but wanting to be anywhere but there. Roman started the conversation with him, he said your name as a means of introduction and the Swede visibly perked up slightly. 

“The youngest Roy finally comes out to play!” Lukas said with the look of an overexcited child. 

“I suppose so.” You pause for a second. “It’s nice to meet you, Lukas.” 

“Romey, I think you should get your sister a drink, she looks thirsty…” 

You shudder at that, he hadn’t given you good vibes and this was uncomfortable, you looked at Roman to beg him not to leave you alone with Matsson but he completely ignored you and went off. 

“So you’re not in the family business essentially at all, right?” Lukas asked as he quirked his brow as he looked you up and down. 

“Nope, my involvement is pretty non-existent.” You paused for a moment watching him. Rome would owe you big time for whatever the fuck this is you thought. You hated it. “But based on my brother’s eagerness over you, I’m assuming that you’re looking at an in?”  

“To the business or the family?” He has a large smirk on his face as if he’s said the wittiest thing ever. Lukas leans forward in his chair watching you intently. 

“I was meaning business but I guess there’s not much separation in family or business matters there.” Lukas raises an eyebrow briefly at that, he’s not surprised at that observation but he is a little taken aback at your air of candour. 

But that’s how you are with everyone. You tell yourself that if Roman didn’t want you to say such things, he wouldn’t have left you alone, he knows you. He was practically asking for it by bringing you into this awkward mess of an interaction. 

“The business potentially, I suppose the family is a bit more complicated…” He teases. 

“Buy into Waystar, you’re in the Roy’s den somewhere.” You respond somewhat cynically and absentmindedly as you look away trying to find Roman or well any familiar face. 

“Well, Miss Roy-” The way he says it makes you shudder and you immediately correct him. 

“Dr. Roy.” His eyebrows raise again, he looks borderline amused and laughs a little. He has the nature of a spoiled child in a tall, 40-something-year-old’s body you think. 

“Dr. Roy. Sorry, you’re not quite what I was expecting.” 

“Why, did you meet my sister first? Then Rome?” You quip back with a dry chuckle. 

It wasn’t the first time and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time that somebody had said something to that effect, often because of what they’d assumed based on either their interactions with your family members or the general reputation of your family. 

“I haven’t met her yet. But no, you’re just different- which I’d heard of course, but still. It’s different seeing different in the flesh you know?” “I guess so.” “Not a bad thing though.”

“Well thanks, I really needed that ego boost.” You sigh. 

He licks his lips and leans even closer, “Did you maybe want to head out? I’d love to pick your delightful brain amongst other things-” 

“How the fuck did Ken get you here Matsson?” Stewy’s voice cuts in, more serious than usual. 

Lukas doesn’t seem to notice and they must be acquainted you think, it doesn’t surprise you though. If Ken knows him, Stewy’s bound to, and regardless of Ken, Stewy magically knows everyone. You look up at Stewy, feeling slightly more relaxed as he stands near your chair. He doesn’t look at you, not even for a second which is unusual for him, even at public events. There’s always some acknowledgement in his eyes at the very bare minimum. 

You knew that Stewy was coming tonight but you didn’t expect to see him so soon. Like every event you both attended, your entrances and exits were perfectly timed. Coordinated flawless, unsuspicious executions. You’d come 3 hours earlier than Stewy to this and you’d leave with at least an hour gap between you both. That had been the plan but you didn’t think it had quite been the 3 hours yet, just over 2 hours you thought. It made more sense optics-wise for you to be here longer and Stewy to just pop through.  

“Oh, Hosseini- what a sight for bored eyes you are man,” Matsson says as Roman appears.

“There, slurp up.” Roman’s eyes hesitantly shift to Stewy as he hands you the mysterious alcoholic drink for your ‘thirst’. 

“I’m not drinking that.” You quickly respond, giving the drink back to Roman and he rolls his eyes, nonchalantly taking a generous sip from the glass as if to prove a point. 

“Shouldn’t you be in a bathroom with Kendall somewhere?” Roman directs at Stewy. 

“No, unfortunately, we’re waiting. They’re all occupied.” His eyes meet Roman’s but before they do he finally makes eye contact with you, his gaze is firm and he doesn’t look impressed. 

The whole energy of this interaction is making you severely uncomfortable. You’d seen and heard of Stewy giving others non-impressed glances and quips but you’d never seen him make eye contact with you before with an expression like that. That paired with Roman and Matsson playing some weird business game of chicken at Kendall’s birthday was not how you wanted to spend the night. You wished you were still talking to Rava or chatting to Willa wherever she and Connor were. Or that you were home. That was the ideal situation here. There’s a tense air between everyone and despite it being earlier than being agreed upon, you’re ready to head off now. You’d already talked to Ken and given him a present, seeing him and showing face for a bit for his sake was the priority of the evening.

“I need to go-” You start to say before you’re cut off. 

“Don’t abandon us, Dr Roy!” Lukas exclaims playfully like a spoilt child. 

“Sorry but I need to hit the powder room, I’m on my period.” You lie in a manner as if you’re just bluntly stating a fact as you stand up. Stewy chuckles softly, it's the softest you’ve seen his eyes look all night, well for all of the duration of your awkward interaction with Matsson. While Stewy sees through the lie and you’re sure that Roman does as well, the false candour, unfortunately, intrigues Lukas more. 

“Regular? Super? Wait, just bring me back your tampon please?” Roman asks looking up at you. 

“I don’t use tampons.” You sigh as you start to walk off. Immediately regretting your genuine candour this time. 

“Right, sorry.” Roman then looks at Lukas and Stewy. “Well you’ve seen my mum’s vagina tonight but here’s a secret about my sister’s, it’s that tight she can’t use tampons.” 

You glare at Roman who looks absolutely chuffed with himself, he starts to giggle like the child he still is inside and you roll your eyes. Stewy looks at you with a very tight lip smile, struggling not to laugh, even with jealousy coursing through his veins. 

“Maybe stop talking about your family’s vaginas Rome?” Stewy raises an eyebrow at Rome. 

“I don’t know how I always forget about your condition, always snapping dicks. Serial pad user this one.” Rome says to you, directing it at Matsson and completely ignoring Stewy. 

“I don’t have vaginismus which is a very real and not a birthday tech/finance bro over drinks discussion, so stop implying that please and go back to your weird networking.” You say as you walk off, not looking back at the trio of the men. 

“Moderna vagina dentata!” Roman calls out after you. 

“She’s like a diplomatic firecracker right?!” Lukas laughs looking at Roman who smirks and shrugs. 

************** 

You finish washing your hands and unlock the door, getting ready to leave. You’ve gone toilet and you know Roman will be busy sucking up to Matsson and you can make a quick, silent, unnoticed exit. You’ve stepped out and are leaving the bathroom but as soon as you do you feel hands immediately pounce on you, it’s a blur at first and you initially flinch but quickly see it’s Stewy. 

“Get in.” He says as he holds your hips firmly, guiding you back into the bathroom. 

Stewy’s hands leave your body for a moment as he locks the door behind him once you’re both in but they quickly return to where they previously were. 

“Somebody might’ve seen-”

“I don’t fucking care.” He says as he presses his lips against your neck, pinning you to the wall. “Everyone can know baby.” You scoff slightly at that. 

“Well, that’s interesting and surprising, considering you wouldn’t look at me two minutes ago.” He stops kissing your neck and sighs, he tilts his head against your shoulder. “What was going on Stewy? We’re always amicable in public…” You gently probe. 

He nods as his head is still pressed against your shoulder, he sighs again and tilts his head. You can feel his breath on your collarbone and his fastidiously trimmed beard brushes against you, it’s a brief little burn. In another moment it would probably feel more ticklish than it does right now, you’d probably giggle at it like you have in the past. 

“What if we weren’t?” Stewy implores. You pause for a moment, deciphering his meaning. 

“And be what…hostile?” You question somewhat incredulously. 

A change in the method of the public side of your relationship now would surely draw more attention, it certainly would raise eyebrows and questions from those closest and it would become ridiculously complicated. Even with you not being involved at Waystar. 

“No, no. Just open. No more running around, hiding, game of fucking cat and mouse. We don’t even need to say anything, we can just do it. It’s so simple.” He’s moved his handsome head so he’s now looking at you with those wide brown orbs. You exhale slightly and move your hands so that they’re now combing through his hair. It’s handsomely styled but you like it when it has less product and his natural curls are freer. 

“What’s prompting this?”

“And that’s relevant?” 

“I’m just surprised, can you please talk to me?” You ask softly, pleading with him as you continue to gently run your hands through his hair. His hand is rubbing a burning circle on your waist. His eyes are wide and there’s something there that you don’t think you’ve seen before, he almost seems manic. 

“I didn’t like that discussion out there baby.” He says, his tone becoming a bit more serious. 

“This might come as a surprise to you honey but I also am not a fan of when Rome talks about Shiv’s and I’s reproductive systems.” You reply, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“No, I-I didn’t like that but I was meaning with Matsson.” 

“Oh, he’s a creep.” You immediately respond. 

“You’re telling me.” He kisses your lips softly but quickly deepens it, his hands firmly grip onto your hips. You lightly tug on his hair as you moan into his mouth. “He was eye-fucking you like his goonie life depended on it.” 

You chuckle at how he describes it but his face is serious, similar to how it was when he came over during that awful interaction. You don’t know why it took you so long to pinpoint it, it’s jealousy. Stewy Hosseini was jealous. 

Stewy Hosseini was jealous of that interaction, even though you’d both immediately agreed Lukas Matsson was a creep. You kiss him softly and move one of your hands to his shoulder. He eagerly returns the kiss back, filled with hunger. 

“Stewy?” You ask quietly. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you jealous…?” 

His brow noticeably furrows at that question, it’s quite a sight. His hair was now tousled and curlier from your tugging and raking through them, his eyes wide with lust and the aforementioned jealousy and his lips kiss-swollen. He was painfully handsome and you wished that you two weren’t in a bathroom at a party. 

“Did you only just put that together baby?” He asks after watching you for a moment, a cocky smirk on his face. You sigh with a small nod and roll your eyes, which just makes his smirk grow even more. “I don’t want anybody to ever look at you like that again and nobody ever gets to touch you but me.”

He immediately presses his face against yours for another passionate and extremely hungry kiss, you open up your mouth for him and he immediately accepts the invitation. It’s a fiery clashing of teeth and lips, you quickly get lost in it, one hand gripping onto his shoulder as the other one tugs on his hair not so gently this time. 

He groans out against your mouth as you tug on his locks. His hand pinches your hip before he moves it down and then pushes up your dress, his hand then dances along your thigh while the other bruisingly pinches your hip. 

You moan out against his lips as his fingers press against your underwear, you can feel him pressing his fingers against you and dancing along the clothed area. You writhe slightly against him at the pressure. 

His lips leave yours and he kisses along your jaw, trailing the kisses down your neck. He sucks and licks softly around your pulse, then as his mouth gets closer to your collarbone he nips you teasingly. You whine out at the sensation as your fingers dig deeper into his hair and he immediately kisses over where he’d bit you. 

As he does this, he pushes your underwear to the side so that his fingers can slip through. Your arousal had already started to quickly build between your legs and now he was able to take advantage of that. You moan out as his fingers now run through your folds without the barrier of your underwear, he slips a finger inside of you as his thumb gingerly traces over your bundle of nerves. He kisses your shoulder as he hears your breathing quickly change. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that right?” Stewy asks. His voice was slightly more gentle. “Nobody else ever gets this.” He says more firmly. 

“Only you Stewy.” You breathe out as calmly as you can manage as he inserts a second finger into you. He continues on with his ministrations as he kisses along your neck, reaching that spot he knows you cannot ever get enough of. 

“That’s my girl.” He chuckles as he leaves your neck to kiss your lips again. You're desperate to feel him, it can’t have been more than 2 minutes since his lips left yours but you need to feel him there again. Especially when he’s having his way like this with you. You need Stewy in every sense of the meaning. 

His kiss to your mouth is firm and hungry, you get lost in the feeling of his plump lips as he continues to overwhelm you and provide the most delectable of sensory overwhelms that you could ever imagine. But it is of course, unfortunately not long enough. The world’s longest kiss wouldn’t be long enough with Stewy though, which you of course know but it never stops you from wanting, needing longer, needing and craving more. 

When he breaks the kiss, Stewy slides down to his knees on the floor of the bathroom. In your right mind, you’d probably be too focused on the unhygienic nature of this environment but you don’t even think of that. You are just desperate for Stewy, aching for him in any and every way in which you can have him. You don’t think anyone has ever felt as desperate for someone as you do for Stewy.  

He expertly but gently spreads your legs out, putting one over his shoulder as he softly kisses along your thighs. The kisses are soft and hot and as you feel his breath against your sensitive thighs, you feel your core clench and every nerve ending of yours tingle in desire and anticipation for him. 

Stewy continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his kisses get closer to your core, you squirm slightly as he does. He gives a few gentle kisses to your vulva, your arousal is covering his fingers and running down his hands and he licks through your folds. Softly groaning at that as you let out a whimper at the contact, the noise coming from you is so beautiful, melodic to Stewy. 

The noise spurs him on and his tongue gingerly circles around your bundle of nerves, the pressure is so perfect and the build-up from his teasing and the making out just adds to the feeling. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, gripping it for leverage and as a way to communicate just how he makes you feel. He continues to lick and kiss at your clitoris and you know it won’t be long till you reach your peak at this rate. 

Stewy’s fingers continue at their work, getting deeper and reaching that spongy spot that makes you sharply gasp. Stewy smirks against you as he hears that, he hums against your bundle of nerves and the vibrations make you shudder, bringing you so much closer. 

“Oh my god, Stewy!” You moan out as you roughly tug at his hair. 

“Come on, come for me, baby. I want to taste you and feel it all over my face.” He says in between kisses to your bundle of nerves and around it. You nod and he continues to finger you and to give your clitoris attention, it isn’t much longer until you feel your climax coming on. 

“I’m going to- oh baby!” You whimper out, and he continues at the same pace as you shake against him as your peak arrives and you ride it out. He smirks against you as he tastes you. 

After your orgasm, he stays there, looking up at you in awe for a moment, supporting your body as it’s still somewhat weakened from that orgasm. He then stands back up, he pulls your dress back down and smirks.  Stewy holds your hip gently and his free hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek. The pad of his thumb feels so soft against your cheek. You can’t help but smile at him, so absolutely in love with him and he returns the grin. 

“You might want to clean that up, honey.” You say with a smirk as you lean against the wall, enjoying the feeling of him pressed against you so intimately. 

“Nope.” He immediately firmly says. 

“Nope?” 

“I don’t care who knows, honestly I want everyone to know. Everyone should know about us and that I’m the only one who gets this baby. Fuck Matsson, fuck anyone else.”

“I think a decision like this should have a proper conversation, one that isn’t just jealously induced sweetie.” You respond as softly as you can, as you close your eyes for a moment. You hear a small scoff.

“Such a tease.” He says and you can’t help but smile when seeing the devilish expression on his face. He’s simultaneously charming, and handsome but also arrogant and you love it so much. 

“I don’t want you to regret it.” You genuinely mean it. “I never would.” He immediately responds. 

“I love you.” 

It’s not a conversation you can have right now, the bathroom at your brother’s 40th birthday party is not the right environment for this. It needs to be one at home that isn’t post-sex acts either.

“I love you too.” He says as he rubs his forehead and sighs briefly. “Go home, I’ll leave fifteen minutes after you. I know- small risk but it’s worth it.” You chuckle and kiss him on the cheek. “I expect you to be in bed waiting when I get there though.” He says earnestly but still playfully. That’s your Stewy, always playful and blunt. 

“Sure thing Mr. Hosseini, maybe write me a love poem on the way home?” You tease with a small giggle. 

“Oh baby, you didn’t get my love poem?” He has that loveable but chaotic, cocky smirk on his face. 

“What?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“That was my love poem.” As he delivers that line his smirk somehow grows by ten times. You roll your eyes at him as you kiss him on the lips softly. “Wait, do I need to better emphasise next time?” He teases with a wicked grin and laughs. 

“Get better material, Hosseini.” You immediately quip back with a smirk as you leave the bathroom stall to make an Irish Goodbye from Kendall’s birthday to go home, our home you think. 

[kirikorik]

- And yet you left me. - And yet I left you. You'll never forget…

Joost Klein × fem!reader.

Summary: You loved each other when you were teenagers, then he ran away, and now he's back again, and no matter how much you try to avoid him, you won't succeed... After many years, you receive an invitation to a party in honor of Joost's loss at Eurovision.

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 16+! Triggers! Violence! Sexualization! Sexy theme! Not canon! The story is not reality and everything except the known facts is my fantasy!

I don't know English. Maybe there are a lot of mistakes. ♡♡♡

The party is in full swing. The sounds of electronic music are hitting your ears, but you are laughing happily, feeling the vibration in your chest. You are a little drunk, you want to relax a little after work, so you replace your drink with a new one and go further to the dance floor to forget yourself this evening. This party was a celebration of losing.

Just a few days ago, Eurovision ended, Switzerland won with some damn singer. You had nothing against the performer from this country, but you were still bitter and offended for what you did to the «main star» of this party. Joost Klein was expelled. He could have easily won, the vote ratings in his honor were skyrocketing. People liked his songs, his style, people liked him as a person. But the truth is that people couldn't help but like Joost. He was something of a cherished dream. Unattainable and too mundane. The guys wanted to be friends with him, the girls just wanted him. And yet he was excluded from Eurovision, and now Joost was celebrating his loss, his lost dream…

You raise your hands, the flashing lights in front of your eyes spin, sweat rolls down your forehead. The room is hot and stuffy, but you don't care. You don't care. Your only dream is that this evening will never end and that you will never see Joost again. But he's like a ghost, a silhouette shining in the golden light. Joost is irresistible from the tips of his snow-white hair to his bottomless blue eyes.

The crowd is moving, changing, and no matter how much you blink, you still see only him in front of you. He has white paint on his face, black circles around his eyes, he's wearing his favorite makeup, which makes your legs give way. He looks so fake… Joost is unpredictable. Joost is crazy. Joost… You're fucking in love with him.

Someone steps on your foot, but you don't care. You close your eyes painfully and swear to yourself that you won't open them until dawn today. So as not to see his silhouette, so as not to hear his voice in the songs tickling your ears, so as not to feel his hot palms on your ribs, so as not to cry from how hard his nails dig into your skin. He's standing behind you, snuggling up to you, dancing to your rhythm. He is tall, even very tall, so casually he puts his chin on top of your head and slows down to the beat of his music, as if you are dancing not to loud, rhythmic hip-hop, but to the melody accompanying your unforgettable waltz. People are drunk and don't notice you. You don't want to think about whether it's a dream, whether you feel his touch. You take a deep breath…

You and Joost weren't friends, but you were definitely more than just acquaintances. You've known him for most of your life, ever since you went to school, when you lived next door to him. Joost Klein is a naughty, arrogant wretch. — that's what your parents used to say. Joost Klein was a couple of years older than you, and you were forbidden to communicate with him, but, to tell the truth, you didn't even know him. You often watched from the window of the children's bedroom as he played ball with his father and older brother, but you were always afraid to approach them. Your parents never paid enough attention to you.

Once in childhood, your mother ordered you to put on black clothes. But you didn't listen and chose a white shirt with red hearts. Of course, no one told you that it was very important, your parents ignored you. Standing at the funeral of Joost's father, who died of cancer, you realized what a mistake you had made. Joost looked into your eyes without blinking, as if he had known you for a long time. He probably hated the scarlet hearts on your shirt. You tightened your grip on your mother's hand and lowered your tear-stained gaze to the ground.

He was thirteen, and you were a couple of years younger and didn't understand much when an ambulance arrived at your neighbor's house a year later. You didn't understand much when a body covered with a black cloth was carried out of the house on a stretcher. You didn't understand much when the white-haired boy jumped out after the doctors, screaming loudly and heartbreakingly. You didn't understand much when Joost's older brother held him in his arms, comforting him. You didn't understand a lot, but bitter tears were rolling down your cheeks. You never saw Miss Klein again.

You're afraid, but you still lean back against Joost's wide, sweat-soaked chest, cling to him as if for the last breath of air, but you don't open your eyes even when his right palm begins to slide over your cheek. He knows that you won't dare to look at him, and yet he's watching your face intently in the hope of seeing at least something.…

When Joost returned to school a few months later, he was smiling as if nothing had happened. As if his heart didn't hurt unbearably much. Then, looking at him from around the corner, you promised to share his pain with him. Being the only viewer of his YouTube channel, you, as the most devoted fan, listened attentively to all his speeches. You left likes on his videos, wrote comments, it seemed like you knew everything about him. You weren't sure if Joost at least remember your name.…

When you turned 15, you often watched at night as Joost ran away from home, as each time he was picked up by the same dark blue car with his friends. You dreamed of going to the same place where Joost went one day. He always returned just before dawn, always with a drunken sincere smile on his lips, always happy. Was he happy? Even a fool would have realized that it wasn't.

Your hips move in a slow rhythm to the right and left, Joost pressing his pelvis against you follows your every movement, exhaling hotly into the back of your head, making you tremble and tremble…

You remember the horror reflected on your face when you looked into someone else's blue eyes. So similar to Joost's eyes… A brunette twice your size was pinning you to the wall with his body… It's the first time you've run away from home after your adult friends. The guy standing in front of you was Joost's classmate, one of his best friends. But, nevertheless, it was he who persistently groped you, drunkenly muttering something and ignoring your tears, running his hands under your short skirt. The room is dark, music is blaring outside the door, no one will hear you.…

A calloused palm squeezes your thin neck, interrupting you breathing for a few moments, and then sliding back to your cheekbone. Your ears are blocked, you can't hear the music and Joost's ragged breathing over your temple. He doesn't say a word, but you understand everything and therefore drink the remaining alcohol in the glass at a time. There's no way you're going to listen to him. Do you want to forget about the existence of Joost Klein… And yet you're at his party. And yet you responded to his invitation, but not to the bell.…

You swallow back tears, mumble something about your parents, about your mother, beg him to stop and not touch you. But other men's hands are not listening to you, lifting up your short top. Other people's lips wetly kiss your neck, nibble your shoulders. You try to push Joost's friend away, but you can't do anything, he's older and twice your size, stronger…

You dig your nails into Joost's forearm, trying to stop him and forbid him to stop. You pray that he doesn't stop, and you hope that you're dreaming all this.

The flash is followed by a loud bang and swearing. Dirty alien hands are letting you go. You shiver and cling to the wall, staring wide-eyed at the floor. Your fingers lower the edge of your skirt, wanting to cover your body as much as possible. You're almost hysterical, and when someone else's hands fall on your shaking shoulders again, you shudder violently, raising your head sharply. Joost is standing in front of you. Pale. He seems very scared. There are drops of blood on his cheekbone, the knuckles of his right hand are broken, and his best friend is lying unconscious on the icy floor next to you. But he hugs you with trembling hands and prays that you will be all right. His sweet lonely neighbor, who seems to know everything about him and at the same time nothing at all. Joost was not a fighter, he was not an athlete, and although in junior high he often fought with other children, as he got older, he completely forgot about it. And yet, when he saw you in tears, his fists automatically clenched. He was only thinking about how to protect you. — It's time for us to go home. He says softly, before borrowing an old navy blue car from a friend and taking you away.…

You hate him. You hate it as much as you hate yourself. But for Joost, you are the most valuable, the closest. You're what he always wants, but his hands only touch you when he's drunk. His lips don't know the taste of your lips. His eyes have never seen your naked body. Although he would be willing to give a lot if you told him at least once — yes. You loved him. He knew it, but it was all terribly ridiculous, almost disgustingly funny.

It's cold in the car, it smells like weed and alcohol. Joost doesn't seem to have a driver's license. But you don't even think about it, clinging to the car window and shivering in the front seat. Joost's doesn't look at you, but he's gripping the steering wheel tightly. An oppressive silence fills the interior of the car, and only occasionally your short sobs scare the two of you.

— Bastard… — you whisper softly, bringing your hands back and painfully digging your nails into Joost's scalpel, tangling your hands in his snow—white hair. You think he doesn't hear your words, but Just just chuckles softly and snuggles closer to you.

You don't say a word to each other when your parents meet you at the door of the house more angry than scared, you want to hate Joost for telling your parents everything. But it seems that the contempt in the eyes of your mother and father in Joost's direction is enough for you two.

— Y/n… — he drunkenly mutters your name…

You're under house arrest, and all you have is a view of his house from the window. You cry, remembering everything that happened, and you can't contain your anger when you see Joost climbing out of his room window again late at night. But the car in the yard is already a different color: scarlet, expensive and shiny, and a tall brunette is driving… There is disappointment in your heart, pain in your soul…

His hands tickle your ribs, stroke your waist, pity your body. Joost is unpredictable, like the first snow in October or the last in May. He comes unexpectedly, bursts into your life without any warning, as if you've been waiting for him for a long time. Have you been waiting for him? In response, you are silent, but your trembling hands stroke his cheekbones, slide along his neck while you press your back against his chest. You arch in the small of your back and hear your bones crunch, but it doesn't hurt you, just a little bit.

He smiles, it seems to sparkle and happily at his new girlfriend, a fateful brunette his high school classmate. She is one of the most beautiful girls in school: rich parents, good reputation, excellent grades. Joost is her opposite, but opposites eventually attract, don't they? You bite the inside of your cheek, talking to your friends, but your eyes are glued to the newly minted couple cooing at the entrance to the chemistry room…

— Why again? — you mumble, knowing the answer perfectly well…

When you see them naked in Joost's bedroom through the window of your house, something inside dies. You cry loudly, wipe your tears into your pillow, swallow your sobs and hope that everything will end soon.…

— I promised you, — Joost replies with an ironic laugh, whispering in your ear. Your skin is covered with goosebumps, and tears come to your eyes again.

You're drunk again, you ran away from home again, but now you have a reason for it — non-reciprocal love. There is a fog in my head, a picture floats before my eyes, how you joyfully rush into the arms of some unknown guy. Now you're 16, now you can. Someone's lips are sliding down your neck, somewhere in your head your mind is screaming at you to run, whispering that you don't want this. Your heart squeezes painfully in my chest, and your watery eyes are filled with memories of that damn night when Joost's ex-best friend tried to force you… You feel sick, sick and…

— Do you remember the night I promised I'd never leave you? — that damn grin that suits Joost so well doesn't leave his lips while he leaves a trail of kisses on your neck. Maybe you'll finally come to terms, maybe you'll finally give a damn and just say — yes?

Your head is spinning, and your legs don't hold you at all when long-familiar male hands, covered with ridiculous tattoos, pull you out of someone else's arms. You want to scream, but you just melt under the influence of a few bottles of alcohol and obediently follow Joost through the crowd. Somewhere behind you, you hear a woman screaming. The scream of that brunette bitch, that's what you called her.

— You were very drunk, crying and begging me not to leave you, remember? — Joost is circling you in his arms, hoarsely and insistently, without stopping whispering…

You're screaming. Loudly, tearing his throat out as the car leaves the city. Joost doesn't say a word, he's mad as hell, and except for the look in his eyes — «I told you never to go to high school parties again.» — You can't see anything anymore.

— I'd like to forget… — you see bright lights through your closed eyelids.…

It's night outside, the sky is overcast, and you can't see the moon or the stars, only the headlights of a damn car you know illuminate the road. Joost is looking at you, right into your eyes. His face is young without wrinkles and although his life has been hard, he still has naivety in his soft features. His white fluffy hair, always sticking out in different directions is wet. His white T-shirt is stuck to his chest, he breathes loudly, pulls his light eyebrows together and shushes through his teeth… In all the years that you've known each other, you've never had a normal conversation. But it doesn't seem to be necessary for any of you when you impulsively approach him and find his lips at random. You're fucking drunk giving Joost your first kiss. Joost doesn't push you away, and you beg him never to leave you again, he swears he won't leave you.…

— You'll never forget… — the blond man laughs slyly, resting his chin on your shoulder, you can feel his heart beating in his chest with your shoulder blades, and you want to tear out your own.…

A ringing slap in the face tears the air with a pop. The fatal couple, consisting of an failed singer, a party lover and the obedient daughter of rich parents, breaks up right in the hallway of the school. Now Joost's ex-girlfriend slaps him in the face. It's painful. But instead of at least saying something to her, Joost looks sideways with his icy blue eyes at you…

— Never… — you stutter, and tears come to your eyes… It's not even fair…

You have never said words of love to each other, never swore eternal feelings and promised nothing. You did not meet, did not touch each other, only with glances, only in whispers, only with short poems and songs.

— Never… — he whispers in response to your words, but the music interrupts him.…

And after that, Joost drops out of school, just leaves without even finishing his studies, he doesn't tell you a damn thing, just disappears after your long nights on the hood of his battered car, when you watched the stars with such love, each other…

You beg him to tell you why when he's packing his bags. You ask him to explain to you why when he buys train tickets. You whisper, «What about me?» When he just sighs softly and obediently turns away and goes deep into his house. You do not dare to follow him.

— And yet you left me… — you say, laughing softly, with irony, as lonely tears roll down your cheeks.

A few hours before his flight, you call him on the phone, ignoring the screaming music behind you, the laughter of people and… Joost knows perfectly well where you are, but only listens silently to your drunken pleas to come back, pick you up from this damn party, as he always did. Take you home and take care of you. Joost hangs up, you try again, you text him with loud sobs: — «Damn bastard, I love you!» — But it never reaches him, and a notification is displayed on your phone screen: «The contact blocked you.»

— And yet I left you. — Joost confirms your words. There's no need to lie, you both know everything.

The house opposite is now empty, you will no longer find any of the members of the little Klein family. And neither his friends nor classmates know where he is. After six months, you give up and stop looking for him…

— I was looking for you. — you're not lying, and, to tell the truth, all those five years that you were so far from each other, you kept looking for him. You kept looking until one day you came across a song with a familiar voice on the radio. You were ready to die to those damn lines: «Hearts on her shirt, kisses on her cheeks. Tears, behind which the eyes are not visible, she screamed after: You swore! And I blocked her contact with a bitter smile on my lips.»

— I'm sorry. — the only thing he says, and you don't know if he's really sorry, but you just nod. Tears are already streaming down your cheeks…

— I hate you. — your hands drop, and you finally open your eyes, which are glistening with tears, but still don't turn around.

— It's not true! — Joost exclaims almost resentfully in your ear and jerks you sharply.

In the five years that he was gone, you tried to live without him. You graduated from high school with honors and entered a prestigious university. You forbade yourself to listen to songs and all the art, it reminded you of only one person you've known for a long time.

Your tear-stained eyes express neither hatred nor contempt, only deep resentment when you meet the gaze of clear blue irises. Joost is still the same, although he is five years older. He's 26 now, and your age difference doesn't seem that surprising. Blond tousled hair, the same as before but shorter. Bright eyebrows, the same as eyelashes. He has grown a short beard and a small mustache above his plump lips, but it suits him. He smiles and… It's still the same smile. A smile you haven't seen in so long. And the smile you've been in love with for so long.

Joost suffered and tortured himself all these five years, but he knew that it was necessary, he knew that otherwise his dreams would not come true. Sacrifices were required, and unfortunately, on the way to his success, the first and biggest obstacle was you, and he decided that before it was too late, before things went too far, he needed to leave. But he loved you, loved you all these years, and you can't count the countless drafts and tracks that he wrote for you, but without releasing them in the hope that one day, when he returns, you will forgive him and listen to all these hundreds of tracks dedicated only to you with him. He had a lot of albums with your name on them.

— I don't want to see you anymore… — you mumble, your gaze slides down. You don't want to see his painted face anymore, he always hid behind the mask of his openness. But you knew how his heart could ache, how his hands could tremble, what his needy hugs could be. He needed you as much as you needed him, and yet…

Joost's eyes narrow, he shakes his head with a slight understanding smile on his lips, and then bends lower knowing that you will not pull away and whispers monotonously and hoarsely:

— Liar. — Joost concludes the verdict, crawling with his fingertips under your short top, wanting to feel you closer, wanting you…

— Which one of us is a liar here? — you laugh ironically and put your hand behind his head, tangling your fingers in his blond hair, they feel as soft as before and if you close your eyes you can probably believe that five years is not so much.

— Forgive me, honing(Honey)… — he does not dare to look into your eyes, even though you are looking for his gaze.

The crowd around you is pushing, jumping and shouting something loudly, the bright flashes of the spotlights hurt your eyes, make them water. You feel dizzy, your chest hurts, your legs can't hold you, and if it weren't for Joost's firm grip on your waist, you would have fallen. You wouldn't mind being trampled by a crowd. You wouldn't mind not seeing his face anymore, not feeling the air saturated with his scent…

And yet you can't take your eyes off his makeup, from his plump lips mutilated by a bitter smile. Even if he was regretting it wasn't that he left and left you. But he was definitely regretting for you.

— You know what, I won't forgive you, — you snort, biting your lip. Regret has long settled in your heart, and now, except for tears and aching pain, you can't seem to feel anything else.

— I know you hate me, — Joost freezes in front of your face, looks straight into your eyes, exhales hotly on your cracked, bleeding lips. — I know you love me. — he has an apologetic smile on his lips, but he doesn't regret anything when he touches your lips with a sweet kiss soaked in poison. You don't regret anything, biting his lips in return. The kiss is sour from the taste of blood, salty from the bitter tears rolling down your cheeks, and yet it's the only thing you want from each other.…

The sound of music is deafening, but your heart is beating much louder and your chest is constricted much more than from the touch of his lips. Joost pulls you to him, hugs you tightly, circles you, takes you out of the room. You know that tomorrow won't come. Joost's eyes are clear, clear, blue, almost transparent, so similar to the cloudless sky you looked at as a child. Behind the veil of tears, your eyes look like the cloudy sky that Joost looked at, holding back tears, at his father's funeral. And yet you whisper love to each other, and yet you beg not to leave.…

The loud, ear-piercing ringing of the alarm clock makes your heart skip a beat. You jump up clutching your aching head. The alcohol you drank yesterday makes itself felt and you slide back onto the soft pillow, smearing your bedroom with a blurry look. Fortunately, at least you are at home. A tired sigh leaves your lips and you jerk your head, a damn dream, a damn ghost with the face of your first love — Joost Klein. You roll over on your side and a single tear rolls down your cheek before you turn on your phone, open social media and notice hundreds of notifications. You're confused, your eyebrows furrow and you click on one of the links, looking closely at the photo with the caption: «Childhood friend of Joost Klein…»

In the photo, your eyes are glistening with alcohol, and your pupils are large and dark, your head is tilted back, a half-smile plays on your lips, and you look at the man in front of you in love, but his face is in shadow and you can hardly see anything. You feel awkward, even scared, confused. You straighten up, sit on the bed and zoom in on the image, noticing with a surprised «oh» traces of white paint on your face…

— Good morning, liefste(love). — a familiar hoarse, almost purring purring voice takes care of your ears, you freeze with your eyes wide open and turn to the door. There he stood at the threshold. Almost completely naked, with a rustic food tray in his hands and traces of remaining white makeup on his face. Joost Klein.

Your first and only love. Your first and last addiction. Your first and greatest pain.

— I brought us breakfast! — he laughs and talks as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't disappeared for five whole years and then returned without warning. You frown, the heart in your chest once again makes itself felt, but you shrug off the pain when you notice traces of pinkish kisses on Joost's face, neck, chest and arms. White paint and red lipstick mixed together. Joost grins, and you realize with surprise, but without any regrets, that the heart and the first kiss are now not the only thing that you gave him…

Don't post this anywhere without my permission!

I'm waiting for requests if there are any?

[nickybloodhead]

Kinktober day 24: Sex Toys

After you taught James how to use the app, there was no turning back. Whenever you went out he would ask you to use it, he loved having control over your pleasure and what better way to do it than with that small but powerful vibrator you had received as a joke from a friend.

At first you didn't think he would have such an overreaction, but you guessed that the idea of being able to provoke you at every step was too tempting for him. He always begged you to use it at the most inopportune moments, they had already gotten into a lot of trouble for being too playful, of course he didn't give a shit.

You were sure you two would end up fucking in one of Lars' rooms, he had invited you to a small party with friends promising a barbecue and beer, you knew from James' wide grin that he would make you use the vibrator, the naughty gleam in his eyes only confirmed it.

"I'll use it if you know how to behave, I don't want to make a scene in front of everyone" you reprimand him crossing your arms to look stern, however he smiles mischievously, oh, it's going to be a long day but you can't help but be a little excited about it.

Most of the party goes by without incident which is rare, by this point he would have your legs shaking from the over stimulation of your pussy. You shrug it off and continue chatting with your friends; you shouldn't have let your guard down. The intermittent vibration inside you made you gasp obscenely, your knees buckled almost making you lose your balance, the curious looks you received made you laugh nervously.

You looked for James with your eyes and found him in a secluded corner looking at his phone, he winked at you and continued as if nothing had happened. You continued with your conversation, but again, the delicious massage to your inner walls resumed, you clenched your teeth to contain a moan and decided to take a seat, some of your acquaintances wanted to make sure you were okay but you dismissed them claiming a simple pain in the leg. The waves were present again and you clenched your legs, bit your lip and covered your eyes to contain yourself.

You saw James smile in delight at your reaction so you approached him with determination, pulled his hand and led him into the house, several pairs of eyes following you and making jokes about how he was in trouble.

"All in order honey?" you glared at him and pulled him into one of the nearby rooms, he seemed amused with the situation, well, it was time to end the games.

"I told you to behave" You walk dangerously towards him, he frowns and as he backs away he stumbles and falls over a small couch. You sit on one of his legs, your wetness seeping through your panties and staining his pants, maybe it was a good thing you decided to wear a dress. "You like playing with me, don't you baby? Well now it's my turn" You take his phone out of his pocket and turn on the lush again, letting it vibrate gently as you begin to rock on his thigh.

His hands try to hold your waist but you push them away before he does, he pouts in annoyance, he's a brat. You grind on his leg, your swollen folds dripping while the vibrator massages your sweet spot, you moan and roll your eyes, he's enthralled by how hot you look riding him like that.

He wiggles his pelvis trying to get your attention on his bulge, that only gets you to mock him, you run a hand through his hair and grab it to pull it, he whimpers in surprise.

"I don't think you deserve my touch, not now , at least, so stay still and let me cum" You give him a small pat on his cheek and hold his hands to prevent him from having any contact. James doesn't accept it, not when he can feel your hole contracting, he releases his grip and lifting the leg you are straddling, makes you fall onto his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist, trapping your wrists in the process.

"It's my game precious, so it's my rules" You squirm in his grip and try to protest but a squeal interrupts you, his fingers push inside you along with the vibrator, your walls stretch with each thrust of his thick fingers, gasp against his chest and move your hips to make him go deeper, you will let him win this time but only because he is making you feel amazing.

You brush his erection with your thigh as he fingers you, he hisses at the contact and pushes his hips towards you, his fingers slide out of you, you look at him with annoyance but he erases that expression from your face with a kiss, a scream comes out suddenly from you, the buzzing in your cunt increases and you feel him push the vibrator deeper into your hole, his fingers fiddle with your pussy rim.

“You're leaking everywhere, and you've already ruined my pants…what am I going to do with you?” His fingers massage your folds and surround your clit, the touch makes your hips contract, it doesn't take much more than a couple of kisses on the neck to take you to the peak of ecstasy, you moan uncontrollably as you come on his fingers, the toy sliding out of your pussy along with thick drops of your fluids. You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, nuzzling your face against James' chest and closing your eyes for a moment.

“We should have behaved Het…” You mutter under your breath and giggle softly.

“You know very well that we never do it.”

This is modern 80s James, he would be a tease in the present day

[honeybeefae]

Finding Home (Lucien Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// Lucien had always felt like he was a wandering soul, never having a true place to call home. It was hard to deal with, to see others belonging and happy while he tried to find something to cling to that gave him the same feeling. It wasn’t until Starfall, when you gifted him something truly special, that he finally found out where he belonged. 

(Poor little Lucien needs all the love in the world and I thought he was perfect for this prompt. I hope you enjoy!:))

Prompt: Character A gifts Character B something heartfelt.

WARNINGS: None

Lucien sat with everyone at Rita’s as they passed drinks around, conversation flowing easily between them. Well, all except him. He was at the very edge of the table, fiddling with his glass of amber liquid while looking towards the door every few seconds. 

He didn’t even understand why he went to these things. Feyre always invited him but he constantly felt like he was intruding on them. No one really talked to him besides maybe once or twice, too engrossed with their friends and mates to notice that he was still there. 

And while he liked to think of himself above the need to have friends, deep down he was lonely. Tamlin was lost, his brothers were monsters, Feyre was busy with her own life, and he didn’t connect with any of the others besides acquaintances. 

It was the same day in and day out, leaving him wondering if he truly belonged nowhere, until you joined their group. You were a friend of Nesta’s that ran a local bookshop in Velaris, your cheerful demeanor making it easy for you to fall in with the rest of them. He had expected to simply exchange pleasantries with him and move on but for whatever reason, you latched onto him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late! Took forever to close up shop.” You apologized as you walked in the door, breaking him from his thoughts as several people greeted you warmly. “Have I missed anything?”

“Not much, Cassian and Rhys are seeing who can outdrink each other while Nesta is already showing both of them up. I think Azriel and Elain are out dancing?” Feyre shrugged, handing you a spare drink. “Other than that it’s been a pretty tame night.”

“For once.” You wink at her, looking over and finding Lucien sitting by himself. He perks up when you drag a chair over beside him, clinking your glasses together with a smile.

“And how is my favorite fox doing?” You chirped, taking a sip and enjoying the warm burn the alcohol gave you.

Lucien rolled his eye, his body immediately relaxing in your presence. “Better now that I’ve got someone interesting to talk to.” He replied, noting the way your cheeks slightly pinkened. 

“It’s not my fault you refuse to play nice with any of the others. Perhaps if you stopped brooding away in a corner, people might actually approach you.” You teased with a wink, looking around the bar casually. “Hells, you’d be surprised at the people you can pick up from this place.”

“Oh, you know something about that, do you? And here I thought you were a spinster content with books and cats.”

You stuck your tongue at his jest, hitting his arm playfully. “I know more than you think I do, thank you very much.”

There was a tension that was now swirling between the two of you, the conversation taking on a much more suggestive tone that was about to cross a line of no return. He stared at you, trying to not let his imagination run wild right in front of you before you awkwardly cleared your throat and looked away.

“So, are you looking forward to Starfall?” You changed the subject quickly, taking another sip.

“Uh, I guess?” Lucien responded hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking out the window at the night sky. “Not so much for the party.”

“Oh, that’s the best part! The music, the food, the atmosphere, it’s enchanting. I haven’t met anyone that didn’t enjoy it.”

“It’s just not for me. I don’t fit in with the rest of them that enjoy it.”

Your mouth twisted into a frown at his words, a look of pity in your eyes. He saw it and scoffed, looking at you sternly and saying, “Don’t give me that look, Y/N. I don’t need your pity.”

“It wasn’t pity, Lucien, I just hate that you feel that way. You know it’s not true.” You said earnestly, placing your hand over his in a moment of tenderness. “I think you just need-”

“I don’t need anything, Y/N. I’m perfectly happy as I am.” He snapped, looking away when you flinched at his tone. “Sure, after Jurian and Vassa became a thing and I got kicked out, I was once again by myself, but apparently that’s just how the Mother wants me to be. I can deal with that, I don’t need sympathy.”

His words were harsh and he didn’t mean half of them, he just had a hard time whenever someone felt sorry for him like he was some sort of lost child. It hurt his pride and it reminded him that despite his protests, that’s exactly what he was. No home to return to, no family to miss him, and some nights he would just yearn for someone out there to care about him.

It made him feel pathetic, to want something like that.

You weren’t entirely buying his macho act. Anyone that had been through what he had been through would feel at least some pain from it. And although you hadn’t known Lucien as long as the rest of your friends, you knew he struggled with it.

However, you didn’t want to push him anymore tonight, raising your hands in surrender before finishing the rest of your drink. He watched you carefully, feeling guilt gnaw at him from the way he had attacked you for simply being concerned. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, standing up to go join the rest of your friends who were now dancing. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to hit himself over the head when you walked away, feeling like the world's biggest asshole. This was the reason he didn’t have anybody in his life, this was the reason people didn’t stay with him long. It wasn’t the cauldron cursing him, it was his own damn self. 

The music was loud as he gathered his things and left the club, looking back just long enough to catch you chatting up a man at the bar before forcing himself to leave to go back to his apartment. He was already dreading tomorrow.

Starfall, House of Wind

It was crowded and loud, full of people he didn’t know as he lounged against a balcony rail. The sky was already dark as well as the rest of the city, everyone gathered around as they impatiently waited for the souls to rain across the sky.

You hadn’t shown up yet, not that he should be looking for you after what he said to you. Feyre and Rhys had given him a cordial welcome, as well as Cassian, but other than that he was by himself. As the minutes ticked by he started to contemplate just going home and watching it from his window.

That was until he felt a warm hand slide down his arm, making him turn in surprise. You were leaning beside him, one of your arms tucked behind your back and a coy smile on your lips.

“Being a wallflower again, Lucien?” You teased, goosebumps rising on your arms from the chilly air. “It took me a while to find you.”

“Y/N, I didn’t think you would show up.” He breathed, standing up to fully face you. “I wanted to apologize for last night, what I said was harsh and-”

“Hush, I don’t want to hear you grovel to me. You’ll ruin Starfall.” You said sternly, moving your arm from behind your back to reveal what you were hiding. It was a small yellow box, with a ribbon tied delicately on top. It fit in the palm of your hand and Lucien was very confused.

“Who is that for?” He questioned, glancing around to see if anyone else was exchanging gifts. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

You huffed in frustration, grabbing his hand and prying it open before laying the box in it. “It’s for you. Honestly, how you are an emissary is beyond me.” The jab made him smirk, his fingers holding the box as if it were made of glass.

“You got me a gift?”

“It’s a Starfall gift. Some people give gifts to their loved ones, some don’t, it’s a personal preference.” You shrug, anxiously looking between him and the box. “Open it!’

Lucien stared at it, processing what you had just said. Loved ones. Was that what he was to you? Or was he reading too much into it? Would it be awkward to ask you that now? He suddenly felt like a schoolboy again, afraid to talk to the pretty girl in front of him. 

He gave you one last cautious glance before slowly undoing the bow on top, tucking it into his coat pocket before softly opening the box. 

It was a small key, made of light bronze with an intricate design on the top. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, trying to figure out what it was too. You bit down on your lip, hoping the dots would connect, but when he just stood there staring you groaned loudly.

“It’s a key to my house, Lucien.” You explain, grinning from ear to ear when his mouth dropped open. “I thought it would be nice for you to have somewhere to go to if you didn’t want to go back to the apartment.”

The silence was deafening and suddenly you were worried you had just completely screwed up your relationship. He was just standing there, staring at the key, and as the seconds ticked by your anxiety grew.

“If it’s too weird or you don’t like it you can tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings you.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around yourself as he continued to be speechless. “It’s a stupid gift, here I can take it-”

Suddenly you found yourself being crushed into his chest, his arms wrapping around tightly in a hug that immediately made you relax. Lucien’s heart was overflowing with different emotions, his mind trying to sort through it all as he held you as close as possible.

You had given him a key to your home, your life practically, inviting him to share it with you. Even though he had pushed you away and put up that barrier, you had seen right through him. You had just given him a home.

Lucien pulled back and looked down into your eyes, tilting your chin up so that you could see just how happy he was with your gift. “Y/N, you have no idea how much this means.”

A blush crept onto your face as you smiled bashfully. “I just wanted you to know that no matter what, you had a home to go back to. Everyone needs that.”

People around you gasped and you turned to look out into the sky, cheering when the first few souls raced across the sky. It was just as beautiful as you remember, your entire body leaning forward as the souls grew and grew until the entire sky was lit up. 

The music started up shortly after that, people dancing and glasses clinking as the celebration began. You didn’t notice how Lucien was staring at you, watching as you stared in amazement into the sky.

“I mean, how can you not think this is heavenly?” You sigh, resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “This is why I love Starfall.” 

He looked out towards the black, inky night and took it all in. The souls, the music, your gift, you, it was like he was in a dream. Lucien bent down beside you, taking your same position, and nudged your shoulder with his as he said, “I think I’m starting to love it too.”

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 13

WARNING!!!🔞 This Chapter contains SMUT: Oral (f.recieving), fingering, semi public(car sex), pet names, harsh language, jealous Christopher, dirty talk(somewhat I think).

Minors do not interract!!!

Aria

By the time New Year's hit, Chris and I had gone back to talking to each other but maintaining a distance instead of cold shoulders. He continued working late preparing for his upcoming launch during beginning of summer or late autumn, while I caught up with my sister and managed our online store website.

After that argument in his study, Chris kept me at arms length and so did I with him, which stung worse than walking into a thicket of thorns. But I was growing to get used to it. Even though I missed his touch.

I missed him.

But after that argument, I didn't let Chris near me nor did he try to approach me. I'd rather drink a glass of acid than go back to him, because despite his icy personality, I still craved him.

Fuck my life.

The sound of unknown guests mingling, clinking glasses and grand ballrooms became a familiar surrounding in my life after getting married to Chris, as he and I were invited to a New Year's party by his friend, John Lewis, CEO of one of the city's largest real estate agencies.

The opulent ballroom was adorned with twinkling lights, floral arrangements and crystal chandeliers, reflecting the extravagance of the occasion, a glittering affair in a palatial palace nestled in the hills.

Chris was engrossed in conversation with other guests, his demeanor calm and composed as he navigated through. He stood out in his custom tailored midnight blue suit, an enigmatic figure amidst the crowd.

I felt his eyes watching me from the other side of the grand ballroom, our gazes met briefly, and I saw a flicker of something familiar in his eyes before he turned away.

My gaze shifted back to Iris, John's wife, with whom I was conversing while Chris went to greet his other friends and acquaintances from the high society.

"It was lovely talking to you Aria," Iris said, her voice carrying warmth that mirrored her kind demeanor. "We'll get back soon."

"Sure, of course, we'll keep in touch." I replied with a genuine smile, grateful for Iris's friendly demeanor amidst the bustling New Year's party.

She leaned in gracefully, our cheeks brushed softly, "Of course lovely." Iris said before she departed to greet the other guests.

Just as she left, a smooth and rich voice softly called out my name, a voice so familiar I felt a tiny skip of a beat in my chest. I turned around to see Hyunjin, gracefully walking towards of me, his gorgeous long hair perfectly complementing his impeccable suit and killer smile. His presence was magnetic, drawing the attention of those around us.

The warm glow of the chandelier above us seemed to intensify his already striking features, casting soft shadows that accentuated the sharp lines of his jaw and the warmth in his dark eyes.

"Hello, Hyunjin," My voice got caught in my throat, it was was hard to find the right words as I took in his striking appearance and the effortless charm he exuded.

"Hello, Aria," he replied, his smile widening as he closed the distance between us. "It's been a while. You look stunning." He said as he eyed my elegant velvet, black dress, that gracefully hugged and accentuated my figure, topped with a white fur scarf.

"Thank you," I responded, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. His compliment, though simple, held a warmth that made it hard to maintain my composure. "You look amazing too, as always."

He chuckled, adjusting his satin black tie, his laugh warm and soothing. "You flatter me. How have you been?"

I hesitated, the recent tensions with Chris flickering in my mind like a dark cloud threatening to overshadow this light moment. "I'm doing fine," I said, choosing my words carefully. "It's nice to see a friendly face."

"Definitely," His was locked with mine for a second longer.

Hyunjin's gaze softened, never removing his eyes from mine and he took a step closer, the world around us blurring away, the lively chatter of the New Year’s Gala becoming a distant hum. His presence was both comforting and dangerously distracting.

His fingers brushed away a piece of silver confetti that was stuck on my scarf, the touch so soft I almost didn't feel it. I swallowed hard, pushing an invisible strand of hair behind my ear.

He chuckled again, his laughter a gentle, soothing sound. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he apologized, his voice low and sincere.

"No- no, you didn't. Please, don't worry." I said quickly, brushing away an awkward silence that threatened to form between us.

My heart beat a little faster in his presence. A part of me wondered what it might have been like if I didn’t already belong to someone else, someone who seemed to leave me drowning in uncertainty.

Hyunjin’s smile returned, warm and genuine, and for a fleeting second I thought if my heart didn’t long so deeply for a certain icy heir with an Australian accent, would I have fallen for Hyunjin? The thought lingered, bittersweet. There was no way no girl wouldn't fall for Hyunjin. He was flawless in every possible way.

As Hyunjin and I laughed together, the room seemed to disappear into a blur of soft lights and distant chatter. His voice, smooth like velvet, filled the air between us as we talked about Milan, his modeling career, and how fast he had risen in the industry. There was a lightness in our conversation that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

"It's impressive how you got crowned Prince of Versace in only a few months of your career," I said, genuinely admiring his achievements.

Hyunjin chuckled, a rich, melodious sound that was like tinkling crystal. "You praise me too much Aria. It's been a whirlwind, but I've enjoyed every moment of it. Milan was incredible."

I found myself drawn to Hyunjin as we continued our conversation but then a shift in the air, an almost imperceptible change, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I didn’t have to turn around to know what—or rather, who—was causing it.

Chris.

His aura was palpable, like a storm brewing in the distance. I could sense his presence before I even saw him, his intense energy cutting through the light-hearted atmosphere between Hyunjin and me.

Chris appeared next to me, his jaw was tight as he met my eyes then turned to Hyunjin. His hand slipped possessively around my waist, his thumb grazing my dress.

"Hyunjin," Chris greeted, his tone polite but controlled. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Christopher," Hyunjin raised his chin, keeping his voice neutral, his earlier warmth turned into a tone that matched with Chris's.

"I see that you're getting along well with my friends, sweetheart," Chris turned to me, his brown eyes darkening.

"I am," I answered smiling, trying my best not to sound awkward. Chris's grip around my waist tightened, I felt Hyunjin's lips curl into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Thank you for keeping my wife company while I was greeting my acquaintances," His tone turned cold that sent a blaze of shiver straight down my spine.

"But I'm gonna have to take her with me now. I'll see you soon." Chris's dangerous smirk widened as he kept his eyes on Hyunjin, pulling me closer to him.

"Of course," Hyunjin nodded gently, fixing his tie. "Aria, it was wonderful catching up with you. See you around." He said smoothly, his smile remained fixed, though his eyes flashed with something unreadable.

I nodded smiling softly, somehow feeling bad for the way Chris reacted towards his own friend. I know they have been friends for a very long time, yet his possessiveness over me for talking with his friend left a bitter taste in my mouth.

As we walked away from Hyunjin, Chris's grip on my waist loosened, but the tension between us only seemed to grow thicker. I gently pushed myself off his arm, feeling a pang of irritation creeping under my skin.

"What was that for?" I tried my best to keep my voice low but sharp.

His eyebrow arched as he looked at me, his expression still remaining neutral. "Taking back what's mine."

"I'm not your property, Chris," I retorted, my voice sharper than intended. "Hyunjin is your friend. There's no need to act like that."

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me with a cold intensity in his eyes. "Friends don't look at each other's wives the way he looks at you."

I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest. "He was just being polite."

Chris stepped closer, his jaw clenched. "Polite? That isn't politeness sweetheart."

I turned away from him, not wanting to cause a scene in front of so many other guests at a party. His eyes still remained on me, he scoffed softly before he said, "I've got to get back to the office. Let's go home."

Translation: I'm pissed and I need a glass of whiskey.

His abrupt change of subject was unsettling, but I followed silently as he led the way out of the crowded room. Even if I wanted to stay, I don't have a word in it. I'm only here to fill a 'wife' duty. Not to enjoy.

As we walked towards the exit, Chris's silence was oppressive. I fucking hated that not only he was cold and neglecting but now is starting to control who I should talk to.

Our chauffeur Andrew unfortunately got food poisoning because of his Christmas dinner, so Chris drove us here in his Rolls Royce. When the valet attendant offered to bring him the car, Chris turned it down and took the keys from him, we both exited the palace, descending the red carpet stairs, walking to the parking lot.

"What were you talking with him that made you laugh so much?" Chris's voice came out sharp, cutting through the chilly silence.

I stared at him, his visible jealousy felt satisfying along with irritation.

"Just discussing world peace and how much we both adore you. Didn’t you hear? Hyunjin and I are starting a fan club in your honor."

Chris shot me a look that could freeze fire, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't be smart with me, Aria."

"I'm not and it's not anything you need to know anyway." I replied not even trying to hide my smirk.

If there was one thing I liked to do even if it scared me was pissing Chris off more. At first I tried not to get him mad, but when his face twisted into that furious scowl, I couldn't help but be mesmerized.

The way his jaw clenched, his eyes darkened, and a muscle ticked just above his lip, there was a raw, primal energy in his anger that sent a thrill through me.

Because no matter how arrogant and intimidating he can be, Chris's angry face was a different kind of sexy.

"You think this is funny?" His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it.

"I think you're overreacting." I shot back, unable to resist the urge to provoke him further. "Just because I was talking to someone other than you."

He shot me a sharp glance, his frustration almost reaching its peak. "It's not just anyone. It's Hyunjin."

I shrugged nonchalantly, enjoying the way his jealousy simmered beneath the surface. "He's YOUR friend, Chris. Relax." I jabbed my index on his chest. "Or do you think so little of him?"

His jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly struggling to maintain control. "It's not him I don't trust," he said finally, his voice taut. I turned to look at him, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, so it's me then?"

He glared at me, his frustration evident. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean, Chris?" I challenged sarcastically, my voice cutting through the thick air between us.

We stopped a few feet from his Rolls Royce, he clicked on the keys, the lights flashing as the doors unlocked. The chill breeze of the night started feeling more colder, the silence between us heavy and charged with unresolved tension.

"What I fucking mean is that I don't like the way he looks at you. And I don't like the way you respond to him." His eyes were dark with a mixture of anger.

"And maybe I would relax if I didn't see him eyeing you like you were his next conquest." He shrugged, cracking his neck. Somehow that small action was so hot for no damn reason.

I scoffed, turning to face him directly. "Believe it or not, I can handle myself."

A knowing smug grin spread across his face, Chris slowly closed the distance between us, walking towards me as I instinctively walked backward until the cool metal of the Rolls Royce pressed into my back. At this moment I couldn't feel anything but my heart pounding so hard in my chest and his hot breath against my skin, his face mere inches from me.

"Handle this then." He growled, cursing under his breath and that was the last warning I got before his lips crashed down on mine.

Push him. Push him. Push hi—

My hands went up his chest to push him away but instead of doing so, they gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer as I kissed him back with all the frustration and longing that had built up over the months we have been together.

Chris's mouth moved over mine, demanding access as he firmly gripped the back of my neck. His kiss was anything but gentle; it was a battle for control, for dominance, and I found myself fighting back just as fiercely.

Our arguments, cold shoulders, ignorance, everything melted away into nothing and now all I wanted now was more warmth, more of him.

I responded so eargerly, my hands tangling in his hair as we kissed fiercely. He tilted my head burying his tongue, swiping it over the seam of my lips, the air around us crackled with tension, a blend of anger, desire, heat and the undeniable chemistry that always drew us together no matter what other agreements or disagreements we had.

Chris's hands roamed possessively over my body, pulling me closer to him, needing to claim me right here in the parking lot of a CEO's palace, but I couldn' give a shit about where we were. My body was betraying me, leaning into his touch despite the anger still simmering inside me.

I couldn't find the strength in me to trust him with my heart, but without a doubt I trusted him with my body. It was only a few times, but he knew me.

Chris groaned, pushing a leg between my knees, nudging them apart. His hand went up the slit of my dress, inch by inch on my bare thigh, reaching up to the thin layer of fabric covering my heat. Wetness flooded between my legs, Chris broke the kiss looking at me with that same smug smirk as he twisted a finger around the lace band of my thong.

"I thought you said you can handle yourself sweetheart," He smirked as he continued twisting the band, a finger stroking my inner thigh.

"Fuck you." I snapped back. Lust consumed me whole, I couldn't think straight.

"Language." He teased me letting out a dark chuckle, rubbing the drenched fabric with his thumb. "But that's pretty much the idea."

Without an effort he slid my thong to the side, and before I could respond, a finger thrusted through my wet folds, causing me to inhale a sharp breath.

"Fuck. You're soaking."

I was. I was so turned on, my nipples were so hard and sensitive, they could cut glass. My thighs were slick with my juices, Chris inserted another finger, streching me, pumping slowly and driving me insane.

He curled them inside of me, my head fell back on the car as I moaned louder than I intended, shamelessly clenching on his fingers, but pleasure consumed my senses before embarrasment did.

My hands clutched onto his shoulders as he increased the pace, in and out, making the telltale tingles of an orgasm gather at the base of my stomach. But then he slowed it down.

He knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how to unravel me, thread by thread, until there was nothing left but raw, aching need. It was next level of torture as he was so close hitting the sensitive spot, going faster and when he saw it coming, he slowed the speed.

Motherfucker

"Please..." I begged, pleading him to let me come but the bastard laughed in response.

"I am pleasing you though sweetheart."

Curses coated the tip of my tongue as my head fell back again in frustration, I wanted to punch that face of his with every willpower I had in me.

"Chris please..." Was all I said, his thumb circled my clit, his fingers still moving slowly inside of me, I felt like I could cry out of frustration of him not letting me come.

"Is this what you want?" He pulled his fingers out and thrusted them back in, I clenched again without a thought. Chris's voice was a low growl, his face so close that I could feel his breath against my skin.

I was so consumed by the way his fingers were working inside of me, I couldn't say a word other than whimper, clutching onto his arms.

"You don't know what else you want other than my fingers fucking your soaking cunt, do you?"

Chris's voice was harsh, yet there was something else there too. A raw need that matched the wild energy surging between us. His fingers curled again, hitting that perfect spot, and a cry tore from my throat, louder this time, unfiltered and feral.

“You feel that?” Chris’s voice was low, a rough whisper against my ear. “That’s how much you want this, how much you want me.”

"Oh...fuck—ah!" I gasped out when his teeth sunk into the curve of my neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to send a jolt of pain-pleasure straight to my core.

Chris's fingers went in and out of my pussy faster and soon wetness dripped, hot ecstasy coating his fingers and down my thighs, I split apart in a sharp cry, my head falling back on the roof of the car.

Satisfaction spread across his face as he watched me, my chest heaving, trying to come back to my senses after a torturous orgasm.

“Open,” he commanded, and before I could think, my lips parted, and he pushed his fingers inside, letting me taste myself. I moaned around them, my tongue swirling around his fingers, savoring the salty, tangy flavor as he watched me with that same dark intensity.

“You’re mine,” Chris murmured, his voice low and full of a dangerous promise. "And I'm not ending the night without having you come all over my face."

Chris opened the door to the backseat and gently pushed me into the luxurios interior, the familiar scent of the leather engulfing me. He got inside the spacious interior, closing the door behind him, leaning towards me with his hand next to my head and crushed his mouth with mine again in another bruising kiss, biting the lower lip.

He began making his way down, sucking on the skin on my neck, leaving multiple hickeys and closed the strap of my dress with his teeth, tugging it down. The next second his teeth were around my crystal hard nipple, gently biting it and getting a loud moan out of my throat.

He groaned as arched against the leather seat, my hand gripped the armrest, needing something to hold onto. He continued sucking and rolling his tongue on one nipple and moved to the other and released with an audible pop. He blew cool air over my saliva-slicked nipple, and the sudden contrast sent electric jolts of pleasure racing through my veins, lighting up every nerve in my body.

Chris pulled the entire dress down along with my thongs, and removed his coat, throwing it to the other seat, leaving me completely naked and exposed with nothing but my heels in front of his lust filled eyes.

"Fuck baby... Look at you. All mine."

He was merciless, not letting me respond, he was on his knees between my legs, lifting one over his shoulder as his head dipped down. The moment his mouth connected with my aching core, I lost all sense of decorum, a loud, shameless moan ripping from my throat as my body jerked uncontrollably, pressing into his face.

Chris's hand held me in place, holding onto my thighs as he feasted, sucked, worshipped and ruthlessly tongue fucked me like a man who had be fasting for months. He lapped away my slick juices, thrusting his tongue inside of me, going from long languid licks to fast flicks.

"Christopher- fuck- Chris..." He groaned against me as I whimpered, my hand fisted his hair so hard and the arm rest, nails digging cresent grooves on his precious leather seat as he continued to eat me alive.

"Fucking hell Aria. I'll never get tired of how good you taste baby."

He grazed his teeth across my clit and then, without warning, he slid two fingers inside me again, at this point I couldn't see anything other than stars and tears fogged with pleasure and lust clouding my eyes.

His tongue continued its merciless assault on my swollen, throbbing nub, the pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, every nerve ending alight with a wildfire of sensation that burned through me.

Moonlight shone through the windows and the distant lights of the palace were the only sources that gleamed in the confined car.

Every expert lick on me had me so weak, shots and sizzles of pleasure left a wildfire of sensations rush through my body.

I hated how easily I gave in to him, how he could bring me to this state with just a few well-placed touches. But as much as I wanted to resist, to fight the pull he had on me, I couldn’t deny the truth. Chris knew my body better than anyone else, knew exactly how to bring me to a position like this and make me crave more of it.

"Chris I...please, I- I'm going to..."

"Come for me babydoll," he commanded, and that was all it for my arousal drip down my thighs, onto the seat and flood his mouth.

The pressure bursted as I came down in a toe-curling climax that sent me to heaven and back. I cried out screaming his name, it was the only thing I could form on my lips.

Chris looked up at me, that fucking smirk never leaving his face, his eyes were dark and intense, the moonlight shining on his beautiful features. He wiped his mouth coated with my essence with the back of his hand, as he removed his face from my pussy, which again, an action that shouldn't be so hot like that.

The car was englufed with the scent of leather, sweat and sex, it was an intoxicating combination.

"You're a gorgeous fucking mess Aria. But you're my gorgeous mess," He leaned into my face, placing a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"And only I can see you like this," He smirked kissing my neck, then my chest, my stomach and then came up to my face and kissed me possessively, letting me taste the lingering part of myself from his lips.

"You—" I pushed him off of me breaking the lock of his tongue against mine, "You don't even like me."

Chris's eyes darkened, and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me close once more. "You have no idea how wrong you are." He growled, his voice low, thick and rough.

I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened on my wrist and pinning it above my head, his eyes locking onto mine with an fire that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Chris-" He softly pinched my nipple. "Ah,"

"You drive me insane," He interrupted, his breath hot against my ear, his thumb playing with the sensitive bud. "You think I don't care, but I care too fucking much and I hate it."

His words sent jolts of something electric through me. Hurt. Hope. Ruin. Salvation.

"Then why do you act like you don't?" My voice came out hushed.

He released my wrist, his hand closed around my neck, his thumb brushing my skin with surprising tenderness. "Because it's easier than showing how much you affect me," he admitted, his voice raw.

"But make no mistake, Aria. You're all I think about. Every. Single. Day."

His lips descended on mine again, but this time, the kiss was filled with a desperate need that mirrored my own. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the fiery connection between us.

Beneath Chris's cold exterior lay a man consumed by fierce possessiveness, that both frightened and thrilled me.

My mind was still trying to calm down from the high of my climax, but all I knew in this moment right here was that things weren't going to be the same anymore.

------------------------

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Next Chapter

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ HAPPY HALLOWEEN! — feat. kagaya event masterlist

synopsis. you go to a halloween party along with some friends, but in between games and snacks, you notice some... strange things about this party, and its host. warnings. none? notes. request for anon! gn!reader. implied vampire!kagaya. 1.5k words! THIS IS MY LAST ONEEEE THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS EVENT GUYSSSS

This Halloween party was... strange.

It wasn't a bad party, by any means. There were plenty of drinks, a snack table stacked high with treats to keep you from feeling hungry, and music filling the air.

You might be enjoying yourself more if you had someone to talk to, but all of your friends had left one by one. One saw an old acquaintance across the room and went over to catch up, one left to get something to drink, and even Mitsuri—who had asked you to come in the first place—vanished from your side without you even realizing where she went. Suffice to say, your night was already soured, even before you started to notice the peculiarities of the party.

All of the faces you glanced between were that of strangers, which wasn't a surprise, even if it was nerve-wracking. You had been invited by your new friends, but every other guest was unfamiliar, friends of friends that you had never met before. They looked at you curiously, whispering behind their hands while trading odd looks in your direction, yet not a single one of them tried to speak to you.

You clutched your cup tighter, taking a sip to distract yourself from the discomfort creeping closer. It wasn't just being surrounded by people you didn't know, there was something else that felt off about the event. It was difficult to describe exactly what it was, but the lurking feeling of danger never passed.

“Hello.” A pleasant voice appeared right by your ear, making you flinch and spill droplets of your drink onto the floor. You turned your head, finding yourself face to face with a man smiling serenely at you. There was an odd pinkish colouring across his forehead; a scar or birthmark, perhaps.

“Hi.” You smiled awkwardly.

“My name is Kagaya. I'm the host of this party here, and I just happened to notice you here by yourself.” He paused. “Did a friend bring you here?”

“Um, yeah... one of my friends invited me—” To be perfectly honest, friends was even a stretch, you had been hanging out with Mitsuri and her friends for only a month or two, but she was too eager for you to come to the party for you to even consider refusing. “[Name]. It's nice to meet you.”

Kagaya offered a hand, that you quickly shook. His skin was ice-cold to touch, almost making you gasp at the shock of it.

“It is nice to meet you.” Kagaya smiled, as if he was amused by a joke only he heard. “I have a lot of gatherings, but I rarely meet new people at them. Mitsuri must have thought you were special if she brought you along.”

“Uh—” Did you even mention Mitsuri's name?

“[Name]! I'm so sorry!” Mitsuri appeared, pushing past the crowd, her face crumpled up as if she was close to tears. “I just left to say hello to someone and couldn't find you again! I didn't mean to leave you by yourself!”

As she stopped in front of you, she blinked in surprise at the man at your side. “O-Oh! You've met already?”

“Just now.” Kagaya nodded briefly at Mitsuri, excusing himself and disappearing back into the midst of the people, everyone greeting him warmly as he passed them. Your eyes tracked his movements, frowning as you noticed his pale, almost sickly skin. Up close, you had seen a flash of white in his mouth, vampire fangs that looked almost real. He must have put a lot of effort into his costume.

Mitsuri made up for her brief absence with a lot of chatter, about the snacks she had eaten and the games that they had been playing. She didn't seem to mind your quietness, as you let her talking fade to background noise.

Some of the people you saw really were strange. There was a man in a startlingly realistic zombie costume, complete with grunts and groans instead of words, who glared at you the second you made eye contact. There were a few dressed as witches having a loud conversation about potions, and a vampire with fake blood dripping down his chin.

But what unnerved you most of all was the atmosphere, the lingering feeling of dread in your chest that you couldn't dismiss. You were much too old to be fearing Halloween, but there was still the feeling of someone's eyes glued to your back, a sense of danger that made your skin crawl.

“Hey, I know I said I'd stay beside you, but I see someone I know over there.” Mitsuri smiled sheepishly. “Do you mind if I go talk for a bit? You can come too!”

You waved her away, forcing a grin. “You can go, I'll be fine on my own.”

She gave you a quick hug, before darting off to greet her friend. You let the smile drop once she was out of sight, breathing out shakily. It was exhausting, but Mitsuri would be disappointed if you left too early. Maybe you could fake being sick, and go home.

In search of another drink to fill your cup, you slipped into the kitchen, finding it empty. On the counter was a jug with a dark red drink inside, like the pomegranate juice that had been served earlier. It was a different consistency, so you poured a small amount into your cup to have a closer look.

Holding the cup up to your face, you could see the drink was thicker than juice, and a much darker shade. There was a strong, metallic scent as well, as if it was—

“I would not drink that, if I were you.” The cup was plucked out of your hands. Kagaya chuckled, gently placing it aside. “I doubt it would be to your tastes.”

He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, pressing it into your hands. You took it with a murmured thanks, and he took his place beside you.

“Halloween is a rather special night of the year, isn't it?” Kagaya mused, smiling out at the party through the open kitchen door. Somehow, even though he was practically a stranger, you found yourself at ease beside him.

“I guess so.” You hummed.

“There's a little story I like, about Halloween.” He continued. “Do you want to hear it?”

You gave a nod, and that was enough for him to start talking.

“Long ago, when all of the ghouls and monsters discovered that humans were wearing costumes of them, they were filled with joy. One night a year, they were able to walk alongside humans, without scaring them.”

You took another sip of the soda, listening intently.

“But, when people discovered that actual monsters were among them, they were outraged. The monsters were attacked with rocks and pitchforks, and forced to flee.” Kagaya paused, a melancholic look passing over his face.

Watching his expression carefully, you could almost pick apart the layers of nostalgia, regret, and reminiscence in his eyes. He didn't look like he was telling an old story he'd heard, he looked like he was recounting a memory.

“This upset some of the monsters, as they never intended to hurt the humans. They only wanted to know what it was like to be one of them.” Kagaya fell silent, staring straight with a blank expression. Awkwardly, you cough into your hand.

“So... what happened next?” You prompted.

Kagaya sighed. “Next, a young, newly turned vampire decided that if they weren't going to be allowed to celebrate among humans, they would celebrate by themselves. He organized a gathering on the same night, where vampires, ghosts, spirits, monsters of all sorts would be able to spend a night of festivities together. And the next year he did the same thing, and the next, and the next, for decades, even centuries.”

“All that time...” You breathed.

“Of course it would change over the years, to match the time period.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “But what would stay the same was the host, as he watched generations of monsters rise and fall, countless guests with countless stories to tell.”

You chewed your lip, still slightly on edge. The way he was smiling at you, you could see the flash of white of his scarily real-looking fangs. “Why are you telling me this?”

Kagaya only laughed, his eyes once again drifting to the open door. Through the doorway, you watched in horror as one of the men dressed as a zombie snapped one of his arms clean off, making his friends whoop and cheer and making your heart stop. The man beside you only sighed, like a father watching his rowdy children.

He turned back to face you, fixing you with a sharp look. His eyes pierced through you, making you shrink back from the weight of his gaze. Seeing your reaction, his eyes softened and the intense expression vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“It is just as I said; if you were invited, then there must be something special about you.”

🏷️ taglist: @mollzaj, @mitsvriii, @an-angstyteen

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[ravenrune]

A little Luis x F!reader thing I've been working on for the past few days. I enjoy writing the reader meeting a character for the first time, so here is one for Luis. I went for she/her pronouns this time. I'm sorry I didn't go for gender-neutral. I will again next time! <3

No warnings. Fanfic. Not beta-read. Around 900 words.

The first step

Under any other circumstances, Luis loved to attend parties. The wedding he was at right now, however, had killed his joy very early on. Luis barely knew the couple and didn’t understand why they’d invited him. Politeness, he figured. He used to work with the man, and they had kept in touch after he’d left Umbrella, but to call them friends would be a massive overstatement. Vague acquaintances seemed much more fitting.

Except for this time, anyway.

Initially, Luis had looked forward to the wedding. Not because he cared much about the wedding couple, but because he always wanted to meet new people. This wedding, however, was boring with a capital B. It seemed as if everyone present was in a relationship and didn’t feel like interacting with strangers.

Luis himself had come alone. He’d tried to get a friend to join him, but nobody had been interested. Luis didn’t have any women in his life that he was romantically involved with, so he hadn’t been able to score a date, either. Didn’t matter much, though, because normally, he was pretty good at keeping himself, and strangers, entertained.

Bored and annoyed, he got up from the table, seemingly invisible to the people around him. He’d go out for a smoke, have another drink, and maybe then it would finally feel appropriate to leave. He didn’t think he’d ever be home before eleven after a party, but he really wasn’t feeling it this time.

“Ai, ai, ai,” he muttered, stepping out into the rain. He was pretty sure the weather forecast had promised clear skies, but apparently they’d been wrong again. “How hard can it be to predict the weather?”

“Surprisingly difficult, actually,” came a female voice from behind him. “Want to stay under my umbrella?”

Luis turned around and saw a woman standing there. Relatively young. Nice dress. It was too dark to see the colour of her eyes or hair. She was holding a big umbrella and gestured to him to come over.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Luis flashed her a big smile and stood next to her. “You mind if I light one up?” He held up his pack of cigarettes.

She shrugged. “Nah, go ahead.”

Luis lit his cigarette and placed the pack and the lighter back in his pocket. “Why are you outside? It’s a bit cold, no?”

“Cold doesn’t bother me much,” she replied. “It’s a bit too… crowded inside.”

Luis glanced at her. She had nice features, but he still couldn’t tell what colour her eyes or her hair were. “Is it too crowded, or is it just too boring?” He asked, only half joking.

She laughed and looked around to ensure nobody was close enough to hear her. “It really is very boring,” she groaned. “I kinda regret coming here. I could’ve stayed home and watched a movie. Would’ve cost me less money, too.”

“Yeah… I don’t even know why I was invited,” Luis muttered. “They don’t seem that interested in their guests.”

“Money, probably. They just want gifts. Isn’t that why people get married in the first place?”

Luis nearly choked on some smoke. “People get married for money? Where’s the romance in that, amiga?”

“Romance is dead,” she stated matter-of-factly, “everything is just a financial transaction nowadays.”

Wow. Luis wasn’t sure about what to say. How could someone think that way? He wondered if perhaps something had happened in her past, that someone had hurt her badly enough to turn her away from romantic interactions.

It was hard to imagine, and the thought made him feel a bit sad. His first instinct was to see this as a challenge. A challenge to try and conquer her heart. Then again, he also knew very well that that could end badly. He may consider himself quite the ladies’ man, but he wasn’t in it to hurt people. He didn’t hop from woman to man to woman just to satisfy his needs and move on. Not anymore, anyway. Not like when he was younger.

Luis had gotten so lost in thought, his cigarette started to burn his finger. “Agh!” He threw the thing on the ground and stomped it out. “That hurt!”

“Not the smartest thing I’ve ever seen,” she joked. “Do you need a plaster?”

Luis smiled. “Nah,” he muttered. “I just gotta pay attention.”

He liked hearing her laugh, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.

“You eh… you got a name, amiga?” He asked.

“Y/N,” she replied.

“Good name. I’m Luis Serra.” He extended his hand, which she shook. “Encantado.”

“Same… I think?” She smirked. “How about we go back inside and get something to drink? I’m sick of the rain.”

Going inside for a drink. That seemed like a very nice first step for Luis. “Yeah, why not. I’ll buy you one.”

“Eh?” She frowned at him. “Drinks are free tonight.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Luis laughed. “Well, I’m sure that after tonight you’ll want nothing more than for me to take you out and buy you one elsewhere!”

“I doubt it,” she muttered while folding her umbrella. “But hey… surprise me, I guess.”

Now that was definitely a challenge, and Luis wasn’t the type to say no to one.

[uramilf]

Day Three - Under the Mistletoe

A/N: Day three already!! This one is slightly mature to build up to smut in later parts, just letting you guys know. Tell me if you’re enjoying these - I’ve loved writing them!!

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Charli lay on her stomach on Y/N’s bed kicking her feet and staring at the sparkling ring on her left hand. “I just can’t believe it! Isn’t it gorgeous?” Y/N dropped the piece of hair she was curling and turned around to look at her friend’s engagement ring once again. “Beautiful,” she grinned. “He did well.”

The girls were getting ready for Y/N’s Christmas party, the one which Matty had been invited to. Both had been busy with their Christmas shopping and the like, so they hadn’t seen each other since their date.

“So when’s your new boyfriend getting here?” Charli smirked. “He is not my new boyfriend.” “You went on a date! You kissed!” “Yes and you’re not allowed to tell anybody about that.” Charli opened her mouth to protests but Y/N cut her off: “No, not even George!”

—————

Matty hadn’t bothered knocking when he arrived to the house, the loud music from inside indicating that he wouldn’t be heard anyway. He looked around the kitchen for any of his friends, clutching a bottle of Y/N’s favourite wine, but only saw a room full of Y/N’s random acquaintances he had maybe met once at one of his shows. From down the hall he heard what was unmistakably George’s laughter, and turned to walk into the living room. Sure enough, George was laughing with his arm around his fiancée. Matty followed his eyes to see what he was laughing at, only to be met by the image of Y/N looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was wearing a knee length, open-backed, red dress and matching heels, decked out in silver jewellery, hair framing her face like an angel’s halo. She noticed him standing there and ran over, practically throwing herself into his arms. “You’re here!” “I’m here, darling. And it sounds like I need to catch up with you; how many have you had?” “Only a couple,” she giggled. Matty pulled the bottle of white wine from behind his back. She gasped and kissed his cheek. “My favourite!” “I know it is. And it was fucking awful having to buy it, you know I hate it,” he draped an arm over her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, leading her back to the kitchen to pour her a glass.

Matty poured himself a glass of red and they stood wrapped up in each other for a few moments, her head on his chest, his arms around her, resting on the exposed skin of her back. They pulled away from each other when they heard Adam and Carly enter the kitchen, not wanting to be caught quite yet.

—————

Almost everyone had left the party by midnight except the band and their respective partners. The sat around in the living room and watched Ross light the large fireplace to keep the house warm through the bitterly cold night, Charli pouring everyone more drinks. Matty and Y/N were next to each other on the sofa, her leaning back so no one could see his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Smoke?” he murmured into her ear. She nodded, standing up and grabbing a pack of cigs and a lighter from the coffee table. “Be back in a minute,” she called, but everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations. They snuck out unnoticed and headed to the back door, Matty grabbing his coat off the end of the stairs and laying it over Y/N’s shoulders.

The second they got outside she was pressed against the wall, Matty’s lips on hers. It was harsher than the kiss on their first date, more desperate. “I’ve missed that,” Matty laughed against her lips, sliding his hands into her hair and pulling her into another kiss. “Me too,” she smiled. “I should probably tell you that Charli knows. She dropped by after our date to grab something and she figured it out pretty much straight away.” “She’s gonna tell George, isn’t she?” Matty laughed. “Eventually, yeah,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Can you believe they’re engaged?” “I know. You gonna be a bridesmaid?” “Yeah, Charli asked me last night.” “You’re gonna look beautiful,” he murmured, hands circling her waist as she lit up a cigarette. “What about you? Best man?” “Of course,” Matty smirked, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and taking a long drag.

They shared the cigarette until Y/N dropped it and stamped it out with her red high heel. “You wanna go back in?”

Matty nodded, removing his head from its place in the crook of her neck and slipping an arm back around her waist. The pair walked back inside, the sound of their friends in the living room making Y/N smile.

Matty caught her arm as she walked through the kitchen door, pointing up at the small bundle of mistletoe she had hung from the doorway the night before. He pulled her tight into his chest and allowed his arms to snake around her once more. “Kiss me,” he said in a low voice, so low she almost didn’t hear him.

Y/N crashed her lips into his again, allowing herself to be pushed against the doorframe with a slight gasp. She interlocked her hands at the back of his neck, his hands travelling down to grab handfuls of her ass.

“This dress,” he groaned. “You look so fucking beautiful.” Matty’s hips rolled forward slightly, bumping into Y/N’s. A moan escaped her throat and Matty shushed her gently, cupping her cheek and kissing her again. “Is it bad that I can’t wait for everyone to leave?” she grinned. Matty laughed against her lips. “It’s ok, me too.” Their lips moved together again, hands roaming each other’s torsos. Neither of them noticed the quietness that fell in the living room when their friends realised they were gone.

“What the fuck?” George’s laughter sounded throughout the hallway. “What the fuck is going on?” Matty and Y/N jumped away from each other and stared at George wordlessly, watching the blonde’s face break into a smirk. “I knew it. I fucking knew it!” Matty groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Will you shut up?” “Yes George, shut up!” Y/N hissed. “Go away!”

George turned, still pissing himself laughing, and went back down to the living room. Y/N could hear him trying to collect himself and tell the group that they were just getting more drinks. She was thankful he was lying for them, but not thrilled that he was still giggling like a child.

“He’s not very believable, is he?” she sighed. “Nope,” matty shook his head. “They all know.” It was Y/N’s turn to laugh now. “It’s ok. I was getting bored of keeping secrets anyway.” Matty agreed and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head.

“If I asked you to be my girlfriend, would you say yes?” “Depends. Are you asking?” “Yes. I am.” “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

It’s safe to say that Matty didn’t go home that night, instead curling up with Y/N all night long, holding her closer than ever as she slept.

[britt-kageryuu]

It's a fairly nice day, and the stream is going well. On a background of a blue themed bedroom, Leo's model is lounging on a rainbow beanbag dressed in blue jeans, a shirt with a turtle that says 'Turtlely Gay', blue bandana with Trans tails, and unicorn slippers, he has a rabbit plush dressed like a samurai in blue. River is sitting on the floor next to the beanbag.

"Would you believe I found out some guys we know actually got their lives together after their lives went weird a few years back. It was really weird seeing them again after not seeing them in a while. Like this guy who's a chef had some setbacks in the food industry, and now he's employed at this High Class Hotel in New York as a head chef in one of the restaurants. Yeah fancy enough to have more then one restaurant." Leo lets out a slight laugh at a memory.

"Not to forget this couple that got together after being roommates for at least 3 years. We weren't invited to the wedding, which was understandable, we weren't really friends just barely acquainted with each other. I wonder who threw the bouquet, and who caught it? Hmm... " He starts muttering while counting out something. "I might remember to ask them the next time they drop by the local Museum of Magic. Last I heard they were planning to do podcasts about Magicians through the ages, or something. Gotta do something with that journalism degree I guess."

A notification goes off, "Why do you guys say you live in New York in your lore video?" River reads off.

Leo rereads the question for a sec, "Oh, that's easy. We heard about those urban legends about mutant sewer gators, and figured it wouldn't be that much of a reach for there to be mutant turtles. The rest of the lore was because of random family fairy tales, and just the randomness of our Actor Dad getting with a Scientist who also specializes in Genetics." He pauses to think about something, "Also the villains in the Lore? Dads Ex, some relatives who were kinda crazy, and the guys I just talked about and some other dudes. Yes we know this is why we weren't invited to the wedding! I'm just glad that one Wrestler asked me to be part of his wedding party for some reason!"

"Side tangent, I swear his wife purposefully aimed right at Star Warriors head during the bouquet toss. Like threw it like a baseball right at her head!" Leo mimes the throwing for emphasis. "Red caught it before it hit, and the bride literally shouted, "Close enough. Remember to invite me to you wedding!". Such an awesome woman." He wipes an imaginary tear from is eye.

"Anywizzle, the whole villain thing was just because of some events when we met them. Many of those not being our fault. Right?" Leo looks down at River.

"Data on file is inconclusive, or biased to it not being Dad or you guys fault!" River replies, before adding, "Though I still can't find out why you guys had a hippo costume, before that one time,in the first place."

Leo gives her a slightly flat look, and just shrugs, "I don't remember. We needed it for some reason. Dee really didn't put a reason in any of their archives?"

"Nope!"

Leo is understandably confused, "Must be something they don't want us to remember, or some similar reason. Well I just lost my train of thought. What topic should we switch to? Any suggestions Balemates?" He asks the audience.

The chat spams random suggestions, and emojis. Leo makes comments on some of the suggestions with jokes, and puns. And goes on from there with random tangents, and jumping topics.

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Masterpost