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coryndoll · 2 months ago

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lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly

authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3

your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.

“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.

“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”

leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”

your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.

“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.

“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”

“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”

she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”

your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”

“fish?”

“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”

you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.

just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”

“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”

“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”

you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.

because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.

you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.

even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?

“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”

“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.

your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.

you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.

his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”

“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”

“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.

you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.

“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?

you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”

there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.

you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”

“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”

drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.

you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”

drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”

“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”

“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”

you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .

“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”

you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”

you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”

“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”

you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”

drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”

you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”

he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”

“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”

you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”

there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”

“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.

the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.

two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .

right?

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frost-queen · 10 months ago

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Tempting fate (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

The night was out. Chilled but rather comforting on the skin. You were outside, waiting as your sister had already taken the carriage in a haste. Not a few moments ago she had a little encounter with Colin Bridgerton. One that you witnessed from afar. You could tell by your sister’s expression that she was displeased. Distressed to say the least. Once again had Colin Bridgerton said something to upset your sister. It was getting out of hand and you hated him for it. Hating how he toggled with your sister’s feelings.

They had been friends for a while now, but your sister desired more. He was the only good gentleman that gave her attention during the balls. Even if it was just a little. It wasn’t his first slip, but this time you clearly had enough of him. Now that your sister had run off with the carriage, you were left to return home on your own. Waiting for the carriage to return to the estate of this night’s ball would take awfully long.

Rubbing your arms gently, you hesitantly decided what to do. Go or stay? Slightly turning your head you noticed in the corner of your eye a figure approach. Once you fully got a glimpse of him, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. – “Y/n.” – Colin said approaching you. – “Good night Mr. Bridgerton.” – you answered coldly turning your posture away from him. – “Do you not need a chaperone?” – he asked making you stop in your way. With a deep sigh, trying to temper your annoyance down, you turned back to him.

“Certainly not from you.” – you answered with a forced smile. He stared confused at you. Trying to process the meaning of your words. He slightly came closer to you. – “Did…did I say something to offend you?” – he questioned. You scoffed making him furrow his brows dumbfound. Colin and you hadn’t been the closest, yet he considered himself acquainted with you through your sister. – “To my sister you did!” – you bit back finding his act of stupidity tiring.

“Pen?” – Colin. – “I…I don’t understand.” – he answered. – “Why do you minimize my sister?” – you asked him boldly. Colin was taken back by your reply, looking surprised at you. – “Minimize… no, Y/n… I…I wrote to your sister everyday this summer with little reply.” – he said with a charming smile. You smiled in return as Colin flourished from seeing you smile. Yet your smile had other intensions. – “Oh, yes I know all about the letters you wrote her. Letting her know about all your adventures. I am well aware of that Colin!” – you pressured on.

Colin chuckled nervously. – “Are… are you going to make me say it out loud?” – he responded feeling a bit foolish. You quirked your eyebrow up unintrigued. – “I missed her.” – he told you. You busted out in a laugh. – “You miss her?” – you positioned yourself stronger, fiercer to go up against your sister’s good friend. – “You miss her, but you would never court her is that correct?”

“Y/n I…” – Colin started finally losing a bit of his boyish foolishness towards you. – “I overheard you!” – you called out. – “At my mama’s ball last season… telling everyone you would never ever court Penelope Featherington.” – You felt yourself get a bit emotional, defending your sister against her best friend. Against the one she loved. Some voices approached as it drew Colin’s attention briefly away from you. – “Bridgerton.” – one of them greeted as they passed. Colin bowed his head to them before leaning a bit closer to you. Lowering his voice he spoke – “Perhaps we should go where there’s somewhere private?” – he suggested.

“Because I embarrass you?” – you said loud enough for anyone walking around to hear. – “My sister can change her entire wardrobe and gain confidence but that would never take away that she is the laughingstock of the ton.” – you outed in anger. – “My sister doesn’t deserve a cruel man like yourself in her life.” – you picked up the hem of your dress. – “Good night Sir!” - you saluted coldly at him before taking off in the night. Colin watched you leave with a certain guilt eating at him.

Two days later you were with your sisters and mama at a garden event. Your sisters sitting down in a chair underneath a tent, waving themselves some cool. Your mother was chatting with some of the other mother’s. You had no idea where Penelope was. You on the other hand were playing battledores and shuttlecock’s with some of the other season’s participants.

You stood on one side with a girl you were quite familiar with. On the other side were two gentleman. The shuttlecock went high up in the air as the boys knocked it to each other. You were waiting for the shuttlecock to come your way to hit it to her and then back to the boys without it touching the ground.

Somehow your attention got drawn away from the heavens. Seeing Colin Bridgerton clearly look for someone not far from you. – “Miss Y/n!” – one of the men called out as the shuttlecock went your way. Your attention was back as you calculated the moment your battledore hit the shuttlecock. The shuttlecock went up in the air as you thought back of annoying Colin.

The shuttlecock came down once more as you needed to pass it to your companion. Yet you let the shuttlecock come lower, batting it away with your battledore towards Colin. You watched as it hit him in the head. The shuttlecock fell in his hand as he looked down at it confusingly. Rubbing his sore head with the other one. The girl at your side pointed firmly at Colin to go and fetch it. You sighed loud going over to him. The moment Colin noticed you approach, he dropped to a bow. – “My shuttlecock.” – you said offering your hand for him to lay it in.

“You hit me.” – Colin responded. – “Must have slipped.” – you responded sarcastic. Colin was all but amused. – “Now my shuttlecock.” – you insisted upon. Colin was about to give it to you till he changed his mind last moment. He had taken a deep breath, moving the shuttlecock behind his back. – “I’ll give it back if you allow me to apologise first.” – he started throwing a charming smile at you. – “You should apologise to my sister.” – you made clear not wanting an apology from him.

Colin tensed his jaw, as he had hoped for another outcome. – “I…Y/n.” – he sighed out. – “I don’t require your useless apology. My sister needs to be apologized to.” – you told him clearly. Colin sighed loud getting worked up by your attitude towards him. – “Fine! If you don’t accept my apology, you might not even deserve it.” – he snapped back. – “I don’t even want it!” – you fired back. – “Fine!” – he finished. – “Fine!” – you repeated loud.

“Good luck getting this back than!” – he showed you the shuttlecock again. You slapped your hand at it as Colin had pulled it away in time. – “Give it back!” – you called out to him, getting some attention from bystanders. – “You don’t deserve this.” – he mocked, taunting you by showing you the shuttlecock just out of reach. You groaned annoyed as he moved it behind his back. You knocked into him full force to reach for it behind his back. A bit too forceful perhaps?

Colin stumbled backwards as you fell with him. With a loud oof fell you on him. Now having the full attention of those around you. You were very much aware of the staring eyes. You pushed yourself hard off him. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. – “Eat it!” – you cursed at him storming off. Colin sat up, swallowing nervously at the sudden attention. Getting up, he saw Penelope look his way. He shamefully turned his head away, getting up and taking his leave.

Lights were flickering in the warmth of the room. Music filled the room. Dancers were taking in the centre of the room. You stood by the side with your two other sisters and mama. Your gaze went across the room. When your eyes fell upon Colin, you glared at him. He glared back at you, turning his head proudly away. You stubbornly looked away as well. Looking down, you fidgeted on your dress. Somehow it pained you to see him act so coldly towards you.

You didn’t intend on doing so but the more time you spend with Colin, arguing and bickering, the more you felt drawn to him. You shouldn’t be falling for him, but yet you were. Some novels say that you grow more attracted to those things you hate the most with frequency. This might be the case for Mr. Bridgerton and you. Mama nudged you hard making you lift your chin back up. She gestured to you, to smile so you could attract more eligible men.

Not being in the mood for her interfering, you took off. Blending through the crowd to escape her. Pushing yourself through the crowd. Coming to a brief stop, you came face to face with your sister Penelope. Your eyes widened briefly before you rushed off to the hallway to avoid her. Penelope blended with the crowd, lowering her head when she saw Colin near. He was clearly in pursuit of someone.

Almost panting he disappeared through the same door you had left moments ago. It made Penelope think doubtfully. You exhaled loud setting your hands on the desk from the room you had run off to. Clutching your heart, you felt it beat faster. Faster then it normally did. Was this Colin’s doing? Shaking your head you didn’t want to think about him. It was wrong to think of his that way. Your sister was madly in love with him. You couldn’t… not for the sake of her. – “Y/n.” – you jumped back startled at the hearing of your voice.

Colin had entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You rounded the desk, creating more distance between you and him. – “Shouldn’t you dance with my sister.” – you sarcastically suggested to him. He exhaled soft, practically done with your flight modus. Done with how you kept pushing yourself away and shoving your sister to the front. – “Y/n.” – Colin started as you didn’t want to hear it. – “You keep doing it Colin. You keep minimizing my sister.” – you told him.

“Ignoring every hint she throws at you, and you too blind to see it. I hate how you ridicule my sister’s feelings towards you. She is not some object.” – you ranted out as Colin came nearer, going round the desk to reach you. – “You tell her you miss her, but you won’t court her. Why?” – you asked desperate. – “I can’t court her.” – he answered standing face to face with you.

“Why?” – you repeated wanting to have a clear answer. Colin felt himself be swept up by the heated moment. – “I just can’t.” – he responded loudly feeling his hands tremble to get a hold on you. – “Answer me. Clearly!” – you called out getting up in his face. – “Because I want you!” – Colin shouted back, practically panting from the tension released inside of him. Your eyes widened.

Colin grabbed for your face. The hell with being a gentleman. The hell with your reputation and his. In this moment he just wanted you. He forced himself forwards, pressing his lips on yours. Your gaze widened more at his touch. His lips gently brushing against yours as you fell under his spell. Giving in to the sensation as it was beyond this world.

Butterflies flattering around inside till they suddenly dropped with realisation. Guilt. You pushed Colin off, breaking off the kiss. Colin blinked confused at you breaking it off. Stunned you held your hand before your mouth. As if something was stolen from your lips. A kiss perhaps? – “My sister…” – you whispered out knowing just how much she loved him. – “Y/n…” – Colin said wanting to approach you.

“No!” – you called out clear, taking a step back. – “I…I can’t do this…” – you told him running around the desk. Throwing the door open and taking your leave. Colin went around the desk as well, standing in the door opening. One last attempt to call out to you, but you were out of reach.

Exhaling deep, he lowered his head, heart broken at the loss of touch. He never courted Penelope but he found himself falling for you. Her sister. The sister that yelled at him. That wasn’t afraid to speak back even when some might find it out of turn. He liked how sincere you were, but also caring and free. A bright personality when one got to know you, truly know you.

Penelope bit the sour apple down. A single tear fell down her cheek, yet her face stood bitter. Bitter with hatred for what she had just seen. Her own sister fleeing a room with Colin Bridgerton showing himself in the door opening. It was clear to anyone that you had been in there privately with him.

Penelope made her way to the carriage. Rushing to get home. In the carriage she pulled out a piece of parchment from her reticule. The carriage hobbled yet she maintained balance. Taking out a pencil, she set it down on the parchment.

Dearest gentile reader…

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

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wwooyology · 8 months ago

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Crazed Nights | K.SN & Y.JW

「parings」 : sunoo x fem!reader x jungwon 「word count」 : 7.1k

「synopsis」 : after being ghosted by the guy you were seeing, you went out to a bar with your friends, getting drunk off your ass. however, the last people you had expected to run into were two of your brother's best friends, two that you had a huge crush on at that. they were just going to take you home, but what if the alcohol gives you a little more courage than you had expected?

「genre」 : smut, brother's best friend(s) troupe, threesome

「warning」 : threesome, unprotected sex (big no-no), oral (m. & f. receiving), face sitting, biting/marking, dubcon(?), all three are slightly intoxicated, cussing, alcohol/drinking, teasing, dom!sunoo x sub!reader x dom!jungwon, praising, degradation, making out, cum eating, face fucking, riding, creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clit play, petnames (baby, princess, pretty, slut...), slight choking, begging, slight manhandling, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : I got this idea from reading something a few days ago and knew I wanted to write it out, just didn't know which pair to use. after some consideration and asking friends I decided on pocketz. now, I can't tell you why I chose them exactly, just that it seemed fitting to me, and tbh, I've had bad sunwon brainrot since this past weekend... I also got a little carried away with the word count... n e who... I hope you enjoy this!

“I swear I’m never dating another man again,” you cried out as you downed your nth shot of soju. Dayeon and Wonyoung sat on the opposite side of the table, looking at you with a mixture of annoyed and concerned gazes.

“Is she seriously drunk already?” Dayeon sighed, downing a shot of soju herself. Wonyoung just shook her head, mumbling about how she knew going out would be a bad idea, especially when they knew you couldn’t hold your liquor very well.

“I can’t believe he took me on two dates and we even made out just to tell me that I wasn’t his type.” You exclaimed, tears brimming in your eyes. “TWO FUCKING DATES!” Your voice raised a few notches, causing both of the girls to jump, instantly trying to shush you. “How can someone be so heartless?”

“That was pretty mean of him to do.” Wonyoung agreed, swirling the small shot glass in her hand, while Dayeon nodded in agreement.

“Right!” You exclaimed once more, and Dayeon scolded you for being far too loud, but you just pouted, slumping down in your seat.

Dayeon then grabbed your bowl, which still sat empty in the middle of the table, as well as the ladle. “Hey, y/n. Eat some of this before you drink anymore.” She scooped some of the hotpot that sat in the center of the table. " You’ll end up hugging a toilet all night if you drink on an empty stomach.”

Tears poured out of your eyes. " Thank you, Dayeon…” You grabbed the bowl, staring down at the broth inside. You weren’t sure why the simple gesture that she had done so many times was making you so emotional. Maybe it was all of the events that had previously taken place. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was in your system.

“Yeah, and don’t dwell on Junmin. He was a prick!” Wonyoung reassured you as she sat a glass of water in front of you, hoping to sober you up at least a little bit.

“BUT I LIKED HIM!” Your outburst drew the attention of those around you, “I LIKED HIM, THAT’S WHY I DIDN’T CARE THAT HE WAS A VIR-”

“SHUT THE HELL UP DUMBASS!” Dayeon reached across the table, grabbing your cheeks and muffling your shouts while Wonyoung looked around the bar with a nervous gaze.

All of your movements stopped, and your teary eyes looked up to meet Dayeon’s annoyed ones before flickering down to Wonyoung, who had slid off of her chair onto her knees in embarrassment. You didn’t have to look any further to know that you had caught the attention of those around you. The feeling of eyes on you was too heavy to ignore. You let your body slide down the chair in embarrassment as Dayeon’s hand fell from your face, eyes looking around.

“No one heard that, right?” You mumbled, too ashamed to look around yourself. Your face grew even warmer when you noticed the uneasy looks on both of your friends' faces, the heat making you feel lightheaded and dizzy. So you slumped forward, resting your forehead on the cool wooden table, arms hanging off at your sides.

“Jeez, you really have no filter when you drink.” Dayeon groaned, sitting back in her seat while Wonyoung followed suit, running her fingers through her hair. Deyeon then grabbed a napkin from the center of the table, wiping her hand of any tears, snot, and/or saliva that had gotten on her skin from when she grabbed you. You just mumbled incoherently into the surface of the table, completely missing the two figures that had walked up to the table.

“Uh, excuse me… hi?” Jungwon was the first to speak, Sunoo not too far behind him. His eyes were fixated on you, taken in your drunk form. Even from a mile away, he could recognize your unkempt hair because you refused to put it up before doing anything, claiming that it ‘hurt your scalp.’

“Yes?” Wonyoung and Dayeon both looked up at the two males, eyes looking them up and down. If they didn’t know any better, they would have thought they were going to ask you three to join them. Wonyoung’s eyes then shifted over to the table they had come from, seeing one dude passed out on the table while the other stayed unbothered on his phone, completely uninterested.

“Would you happen to” “Yeah, no thanks,” Wonyoung cut the boy off before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, catching both Jungwon and Sunoo off guard.

“Sorry?” Jungwon blinked a few times. Had they misunderstood him?

“We don’t want to join you, plus she’s drunk out of her mind.” Dayeon deadpanned, jabbing a finger in your direction. You were still in your own little world, telling the table stories that were far from comprehensible.

Jungwon’s eyes then widened in realization, his hands waving around frantically, assuring them that’s not what he wanted, “No, no, we were just wondering if you were Wonyoung and Dayeon? Y/n’s friends?” He asked, his finger hesitantly pointing in your direction.

Your ears stopped ringing just in time to hear your name roll off of Jungwon’s tongue, lifting your head at the familiar voice. A chill went down your spine when you met both of their eyes, suddenly feeling sober. Of course, you just had to run into your brother’s friends, not just any of his friends, though. The two that you have had a raging crush on for the majority of your childhood.

You felt heat rush up your neck as you flung yourself backward, regretting it instantly, “Fuck me in the ass! Of all the people to meet here, it just had to be you two.” White flashed across your vision making you groan, bringing a hand to cover your eyes.

Sunoo then walked over to your embarrassed form, making sure you weren’t going to fall out of your chair. Jungwon’s eyes followed the older of the two, but the feeling of eyes on him made him look back over, meeting Dayeon and Wonyoung’s confused looks.

“Oh! We’re friends of y/n’s brother…” Jungwon laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“Really? Nice to meet you!” Wonyoung exclaimed while Dayeon bowed in greeting, “We didn’t realize that the two of you were y/n’s friends.”

You whined, mumbling how unlucky you had become, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole. Sunoo reached over, placing his hand over your forehead, making you jump. His fingers were cold against your burning skin, but despite that fact, it only caused your face to heat up even more, your brain short-circuiting at the contact. Sunoo’s eyes moved from your figure, meeting Wonyoung and Dayeon’s.

“Why is she so drunk?” He asked, removing his hand from your face not missing the way your shoulders relaxed at the loss of contact. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes; even in your drunken state, you wanted nothing to do with them.

Dayeon leaned forward, resting her head in the palm of her hand propped up on the table. " The guy she was seeing ditched her,” she said.

“Ah, so that’s what all that yelling about a virgin was…” Sunoo mused, and you lifted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes while the two other girls groaned. His eyes flickered down to you, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

“Man, Jay would get so pissed if he found out. He’d flip his shit and go after that guy.” Jungwon sighed, causing both Wonyoung and Dayeon to visibly stiffen, “and if he found out y/n got drunk, he’d raise absolute hell.” He sweatdropped, arms crossed over his chest, and Sunoo’s lip twitched in nervousness.

They both knew how overprotective Jay could be, especially over his little sister, and god forbid they did nothing. It would be safe to say that they wouldn’t live to see the light of another day.

During all of the small talk, your head lolled forward, and your face planted into the table once more. Dayeon had to stifle a laugh while Wonyoung was too busy panicking that Jay could find out that they had let you get drunk.

Sunoo pulled your chair out to help you up, but you didn’t budge, dragging your face along the surface of the table. However, before you could flop to the ground, he wrapped his arm around your chest, pulling you back. Jungwon then walked over to help the older male pick your body up off of the chair.

“Come on, y/n. Wake up. We’re going to take you home,” Jungwon grumbled as he tried to pull you to your feet.

Wonyoung rubbed her temples when you started having a hissy fit about going home, but you were quickly silenced when Sunoo mentioned your brother. A pout formed on your lips as you slumped onto Sunoo’s back, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. The smell of his calonge instantly invaded your senses, making your head spin and your stomach churn.

“I feel like I'm going to be sick…” You mumbled quietly as you buried your face in Sunoo’s neck, which only strengthened the scent, but you couldn’t pull yourself away. Slowly getting high off of his scent, the slight citrusy smell was making your brain spiral.

“I swear to god you throw up on me; I will not hesitate to throw your ass.” Sunoo threatened, but his shoulders went stiff when he felt your nose brush against his neck. He became acutely aware of just how close the two of your bodies were at that moment. Your boobs pressed against his back, his hands wrapped securely under your plush thighs. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep a level head, but it was futile as he felt his dick twitch in his jeans.

Jungwon couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy seeing you so close to Sunoo. Though he told himself that it was just because you were drunk, that as soon as you were sober, you would yell at them for barging in on your night out.

Biting back a sigh, he turned towards the two girls who were watching them, “Well, we’ll be going now. I’ll leave a note reminding her to message when she wakes up.” Both of them nodded, waving softly.

They watched as the two men walked out of the bar with you before it finally dawned on them what just happened. Dayeon groaned, throwing her head back while Wonyoung scrambled to find her phone.

“Did we seriously just let two strangers walk out of here with y/n?” Wonyoung panicked as she quickly pulled up her socials, tapping on the search bar. Dayeon tilted her head slightly, looking over at the blonde who was sitting next to her. As calm as she may seem, she was freaking out on the inside because she knew they would both be dead meat if anything happened to you and Jay were to find out.

Not even five minutes later Wonyoung melted into her chair, placing her phone down on the table. “Thank god… they’re really his friends.”

About halfway back to your apartment, Jungwon had offered to take you and as much as Sunoo wanted to say that he was fine. He wasn’t. His will slowly break every time your fingers caress his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Or the way your foot brushes against his crotch. He was starting to go insane.

So he let Jungwon take over, helping move you to the younger’s back. You protested at first but were quick to go silent again when your face fell into Jungwon’s neck. Your whole body tingled when his fingers grazed a little too close to your barely-covered core.

“You okay?” Jungwon asked when Sunoo’s breath hitched in his throat. The reason being that when he backed away from your body after making sure Jungwon had a good hold on you, he could clearly see your lace baby blue panties.

Sunoo quickly cleared his throat before reaching out and pulling your dress down. " Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.” With that, the two of them continued to walk down the dimly lit sidewalk. Thankfully, there weren’t very many people out and about, so they weren’t getting suspicious or weird stares.

You had woken up about ten minutes away from your apartment, your head was a bit clearer, but you were still surprised when you found yourself on Jungwon’s back. You nearly flew off of his back in surprise, causing Jungwon to stumble, but thankfully he was able to balance himself.

“Hey! Stop moving around, or I’ll drop you,” Jungwon exclaimed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter. A small squeak left your lips at the sensation, his fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh.

“Put me down! Where do you think you’re taking me?!” you exclaimed, arms flailing around. Even though your head still felt a little dizzy, you were sure that small nap had sobered you up. However, neither Sunoo nor Jungwon were dumb enough to put you down. You’d just run, and with their luck, you’d get hit by a car or something.

At first, the two ignored your whining and continued walking, but when you almost caused the three of you to fall backward down the stairs, Sunoo had enough.

“Y/n.” The tone in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and heat rushing to your core. You stopped struggling in Jungwon’s grip, causing the younger male to let out a sigh of relief. A small pout formed on your plump lips, and Sunoo had to damn near pinch himself to keep from kissing you until they were swollen.

“You guys are bullies,” you whined, shoveling your face into the crook of Jungwon’s neck. His scent, much like Sunoo’s, intoxicated you—so much so that you pressed your nose against the warm skin of his neck, inhaling deeply. “Wonnie, you smell so good.”

The poor boy could have sworn he felt his heart stop and heat rushed up his neck. His grip tightened even more on your legs as the three of you stood outside of your apartment. Sunoo noticed that Jungwon’s face was more flush before seeing you nuzzling into his neck.

“Dammit… isn’t Jay off on a trip somewhere?” Jungwon swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how you leaned more into him. He could smell your strawberry lotion mixed with the alcohol that you had drunk earlier.

“Fuck, yeah. Do you know the code?” Sunoo groaned, his eyes falling back on you. Meeting your eyes as you looked up at him from Jungwon’s neck. He could feel his dick twitch in the confines of his jeans when he saw how lust-blown-out your eyes had become. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his composure at this point. He needed to get you inside and in bed before anything happened.

“Oh uhh, I’m pretty sure it’s eight, two, thre- hey y/n stop that!” He warned when he felt your lips press against the skin right under his ear. His will was only holding on by a strand, and much like Sunoo, he wanted to get you inside before anything happened.

You weren’t even sure what had come over you, but you did know that Jungwon’s scent and his touch left you more drunk than any of the alcohol you had. You could blame the alcohol that was still in your system for your bold moves, but you were sober enough to know what you were doing. Both of your brother’s friends were taking you home, the very home where the three of you would be alone. You’d be a fool to not take advantage of it.

So, as soon as Sunoo managed to open the door and all three of you were inside, you straightened up a little bit. Thinking you were about to try and jump out of his arms, Jungwon opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when you ran your fingers through his hair far enough to get a good grip before pulling his head to the side so you could latch your lips to his neck. It all happened way too fast for Jungwon to stop it.

“Hey! Y/N, stop. We need to get you to bed.” His voice shook, catching Sunoo’s attention. As soon as he saw you, his eyes grew wide.

Jungwon’s face was cherry red, his eyebrows scrunched together due to your lips and the grip you had on his hair. His fingers were digging into your thigh, probably tight enough to leave bruises. He was scared to move, knowing he would fold the instant he tried to.

“Come on, her room is back here.” Sunoo coughed, covering his lower face trying to hide the blush that had taken over his cheeks.

However, before Jungwon could step further into the apartment, your voice cut him off. Your words sent his mind reeling.

“Won’t you fuck me, Wonnie?” Your voice was raspy from attacking his neck like a starved wolf, “I know you want to.” Your heel-clad foot brushed against his growing erection, causing him to hiss.

Hearing your words made Sunoo stop dead in his tracks, turning to face you and Jungwon. Sunoo’s gaze had turned dark, pupils blown wide. It scared Jungwon a bit, but the feeling of your lips on his skin once more and your foot pressing against his hard-on was making it hard to care.

“Won put her down.” Sunoo’s tone left little to no room for discussion, so Jungwon untangled your legs before setting you on your feet. You whined in protest, ready to latch yourself to Jungwon once more, but Sunoo was quicker. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of your smaller frame, your chin nestled between his thumb and forefinger. His face is close enough to yours that you could feel his warm breath fanning your lips. “Are you really that much of a desperate slut that you’re willing to throw yourself at your brother's friends?”

His words made your breath hitch in your throat, but the name didn’t hurt your feelings. No, if anything, it left you dripping more in your panties. Your eyes searched his darker ones, trying to find the words to say. You wanted to make a lie and just say yes that you were willing to just throw yourself at them because you were so pent up, but in reality, you just wanted them. Both. If it was any of Jay’s other friends you wouldn’t have enough thought about doing what you did to Jungwon.

Not getting a response from you, Sunoo clicked his tongue before pulling your face closer to his. He watched in amusement as your eyes fluttered close as his lips ghosted over yours. You then mumbled something he didn’t quite catch.

“You’re gonna have to speak up, princess.” He grumbled against your lips, causing you to open your eyes. Your pupils were blown out to the point that hardly any of your iris was visible.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, “If wanting the both of you makes me desperate,” Your eyes flickered over to Jungwon, who was standing no more than two feet away, “Then I am very desperate.”

In a matter of minutes, Sunoo had your back pressed against the cushions of the couch, his lips attached to your neck. Biting and sucking before dragging his tongue along the wounded area, the feeling making you squirm.

“Sunoo… we shouldn’t be doing this; none of us are sober.” Jungwon panicked because as much as he wanted to sink his dick so deep into your cunt he knew it was wrong for multiple reasons.

“I’m completely sober, Won, have-” A squeak cut you off as Sunoo’s hand squeezed your thigh roughly, “I have been since I woke up earlier.” Your head then fell back when Sunoo ground his hips against yours, pressing his hardened erection against your clothed cunt.

Jungwon stood there fidgeting, conflicted about what to do. On one hand, you did say you were sober, but on the other hand, you were his friend's sister. However, when Sunoo pulled away from your neck to look back at him, he could have sworn his soul had left his body.

“You either join us, or you can leave; the choice is yours, Jungwon.” Sunoo’s voice was deep and husky, making your head spin and your pussy clench around nothing.

Jungwon then threw all caution to the wind. When would he get the chance to do this again, especially with the girl he had been crushing on for the past three years? He made quick work of his jacket, pulling it off his body and throwing it somewhere in the room.

Sunoo smirked before facing you once more, “See that princess, Wonnie is gonna join us.” His fingers that had been resting on your thigh trailed up until he brushed against your clothed pussy. A whine fell from your lips, and your hips bucked up into his touch, causing him to chuckle. “God, you’re so cute but so fucking sexy at the same time.” He bit down on the junction of your neck as his fingers pressed against your pussy. “And you’re so fucking wet, you’re soaking your underwear.”

You let out a choked whine, covering your face, but Sunoo was quick to grab your wrists, pinning them next to your head. Tears brimmed your waterline, and Sunoo could have sworn he could cum at the sight alone. His eyes then trailed up to the awkward male who was just standing there.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, princess; you’re going to suck Won off while I devour this pretty cunt of yours.” He smirked, leaning down to your face, ghosting his lips over yours once more, “You’ll do that for us, won’t you?” You were quick to nod, but Sunoo just hummed, “I want words, princess.”

“Yes, please.” The tears in your eyes built up more due to how pent up you felt, you just wanted them to touch you, do something. Anything. So you shifted your eyes from Sunoo’s to Jungwon’s, who had pulled off his shirt, leaving you a good view of his toned torso. “I wanna suck Wonnie’s cock while you eat me out, please, Sun-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Sunoo had his lips on yours.

The kiss was full of hunger and need, but the force was almost bruising, leaving you breathless when he pulled you to sit up. His hands make quick work of your dress and bra, throwing them off to an unknown location in the living room. Then his lips were back on your, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. His eyes then looked over at the younger male. It didn’t take a genius for Jungwon to figure out what he was saying, so he quickly shed the rest of his clothes before finding his spot at the end of the couch, right behind you.

Sunoo pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until it snapped, and your eyes fluttered open. His hands smoothed down your sides before scooting back a little bit.

“Turn around for me, princess.” His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes made you follow his command as quickly as you could. Turning around onto your hands and knees, facing Jungwon. His eyes were clouded with lust as he took in the sight in front of him; your tits hung underneath you as your ass was pushed up, giving Sunoo the perfect view of your pantie-clad pussy.

Sunoo’s fingers traced up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before pressing down right between your shoulder blades. A small whine fell from your lips as you moved closer to Jungwon. His eyes stayed focused on you as you came face-to-face with his dripping cock. Beads of precum decorating the tip. Situating yourself, you arched your back a little more before taking his hard dick into your small hand.

A groan tore through Jungwon’s throat as you started to rub up and down his shaft. His precum was more than enough lubricant to make your movements easy. Sunoo watched in amusement as Jungwon’s head fell back, one hand gripping the back of the couch while the other covered his mouth. Taking his attention off of the younger boy Sunoo moves his hands down to your hips, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear.

The soft whines that were slipping through Jungwon’s fingers sent shivers throughout your body, your pussy clenching around nothing. It made your head fuzzy, and you wanted to hear more. Leaning forward, you give his tip a few kitten licks, making his body shutter, his hips bucking up in your hold.

“Don’t be so scared to touch her, Won; she obviously wants it. Look how wet she is.” A whine escaped your parted lips when Sunoo’s cool fingers grazed along your slit, gathering your slick before pulling back to show Jungwon. The younger male's eyes went wide at the light reflecting off of Sunoo’s glistening digits.

“Shit…” Jungwon cursed under his breath when you finally took him in your mouth, moving his hands to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail. His mind went whirling when he made eye contact with you, his breath hitching, seeing the lust in your eyes. When you took him completely in your mouth, he could have sworn he would bust right then and there. However, when you moaned around him, sending vibrations reverberating throughout his entire body, his hips bucked, causing you to gag. God, it was the best feeling he had ever experienced.

Sunoo moved down until he was face-to-face with your cunt, blowing on your glistening hole. You whined against Jungwon once more, causing the boy to groan, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.

“Fuck, baby, can I fuck your mouth, please?” Jungwon asked, hips bucking once more, making you gag. You looked up at him with a gaze that clearly said yes, but he wanted to hear you say it. So he pulled you off of his dick with an audible ‘pop,’ caressing your cheek softly, “I wanna hear you say it pretty.”

You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering for a moment before you moved to capture his lips with yours. He was surprised at first but was quick to recuperate the kiss, leaning into you to deepen it before pulling away. You pressed a small kiss against his lips again before moving down to his dick once more, rubbing languidly.

“Please use me however you’d like, Wonnie.” Your voice was raspy but full of lust. You then took him back into your mouth. Jungwon damn near lost his mind when you took him in your mouth all at once.

Sunoo’s hands found their way back to your thighs just as Jungwon started to buck his hips up into your mouth, holding your head in place. He didn’t give you any kind of warning before diving in, mouth latched onto your soaping pussy, making your body twitch as you moaned around Jungwon.

“Fuck!” The younger man moaned out, his movements picking up as you tried your best to focus on your breathing. However, the assault from both ends of your body was enough to leave you breathless.

“Did you forget about me already, princess?” Sunoo chuckled against your cunt, making you moan again, but was quickly choked up by Jungwon’s cock.

Your eyes rolled back when Sunoo sucked harshly on your clit, the pleasure making you go insane. Your grip on Jungwon’s thighs tightened when Sunoo’s tongue prodded at your entrance before he pushed in, letting your juices fill his mouth.

Jungwon wasn’t going to last much longer, and even through your fogged brain, you could tell. So you pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock while using a hand to fondle his balls.

“Holy shit…” He groaned out as his dick twitched in your mouth before painting your throat white. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his load, which only turned the poor boy on even more.

Your head then fell forward when moved to your clit once more. However, Sunoo was growing more and more needy. He needed more, and this wasn't enough. Pulling away, he turned around, where he was lying on his back underneath your dripping cunt. You went to whine in protest, but he harshly tugged on your thighs, making you sit on his face.

“Sun- fuck!” You moaned out when his lips latched onto your clit once more; shocks flared throughout your body as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. You lifted your upper body, hand gripping the back of the couch like a vice to try and keep your balance. You were so close, and Sunoo could tell how your thighs were starting to shake.

Jungwon watched the scene in front of him like it was his favorite porn, his hand pumping his sensitive cock. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of the faces that you were making, and it turned him on so fucking much.

Sunoo’s grip on your hip got tighter, and he pulled you further down onto his face; you tried to resist, scared that you would hurt him. He wasn’t having any of it, using his strength to pull your pussy flush with his face listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your swollen lips.

“I’m- fuck, I’m so close.” You whined as your grip tightened on the couch, hips rutting against his face chasing your high. Sparks dance across your vision when your high comes crashing down, your body trembling in Sunoo’s hold. Small cries fell from your lips as Sunoo continued to lap at your twitching cunt, prolonging your orgasm until he was satisfied. When he pulled away, Jungwon reached out for you and you took his hands without a second thought.

All of the awkwardness had fled from Jungwon’s body at this point; now, he wanted nothing more than to completely ruin you. A smirk pulled on his lips when you perched yourself on his lap, his hands finding your hips. You leaned forward, latching your lips onto his once more; he pulled your hips down enough to have his rock-hard cock slip between your folds. A whine tore through your lips but was swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth.

“Fuck I can’t wait much longer,” Jungwon groaned against your lips before biting down on your bottom lip, “will you ride my cock, pretty?” He asked, moving your hair from your neck so he could place soft kisses along your jugular.

“Please.” You sighed, your hand moving between your bodies, growing impatient. Jungwon chuckled before leaning back to watch as you lifted your hips so you could line his tip with your entrance. The stretch was something you’d never experienced before; he was definitely bigger than any of the other guys you had ever been with before. Jungwon noticed your struggle and rubbed soothing circles on your hips, telling you to take it easy, but you shook your head. No, you were far too desperate to feel him buried in your cunt to wait any longer. So you took a deep breath and tried to relax as much as possible before sinking fully down onto his girth.

“Such a desperate little slut aren’t you?” Sunoo teased you as he moved from the couch to stand behind you. His hands move down to grope your boobs, squeezing hard enough to elicit a whimper from your pretty lips. “Go on, ride him.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, slowly rocking your hips on Jungwon. The younger let out a throaty groan, his grip on your hips tightening. You were clenching around his dick so tight it was driving him insane.

Sunoo leaned down, moving your hair to the side, placing kisses along the skin of your shoulder and up your neck. Your body leaned back into his chest, basking in the feeling of both of their hands on you. The angle you were sitting in only drove Jungwon’s cock so much deeper into you, hitting all the right places.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” The word left Jungwon’s lips like a mantra as he rutted his hips up into yours. “Shit, I’m sorry, y/n.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask what he meant, he planted his feet behind you before stilling your hips above his and thrusting up into your cunt harshly.

“Jun-” Your breath caught in your throat as he continued to thrust up into you without any remorse. Sunoo grabbed your chin softly, tilting your head back to connect his lips with yours in an upside-down kiss. He swallowed all of your pants and moans with a smirk; he ran his hand down to your core, pressing his middle finger to your clit.

Jungwon could feel you tighten around him like a vice when Sunoo wrapped his other hand around your throat. Your eyes then trailed down to meet his, eyes completely blown out in lust. He felt his dick twitch when your eyes rolled back as Sunoo sped up his fingers on your clit, mouth gaping open. You were close, and both of them could tell.

“Go ahead, princess, make a mess all over Wonnies cock.” Sunoo cooed in your ear, his movements not slowing.

Your grip on Jungwon’s forearms tightened, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave marks in the morning. Sunoo’s hand around your neck tightened, making you feel lightheaded as you came all over Jungwon’s lap. Your eyes stayed connected to Jungwon’s as he continued to rut his hips into yours, oversensitivity creeping into your body and making your whines louder.

“Wonnie.” You whined out, back arching, causing him to push even deeper into you. Stars started to dance across your vision as Sunoo released your throat to plant hot and wet kisses along your jugular. His fingers never left your spasming cunt, working in tandem with Jungwon’s thrust.

“I’m almost- fuck, I’m almost there, pretty.” He let out a choked groan when you tightened around him, “Just a little bit longer. Can you do that, baby?” You nodded your head like a broken bobblehead.

Sunoo chuckled as he released your clit from his touch as soon as your body tensed, causing you to whine. He then bit down on the junction of your neck as Jungwon’s hips shuddered because of how tight your pussy was clenching around him.

“Fuck.” Jungwon moaned out, head falling back as his grip tightened and his thrust because sloppy, “I’m cumming, shit, I’m cumming.” He pulled your hips flush against him as he released his load deep into your womb.

“God, that was hot as fuck.” Sunoo groaned as he let you lay against Jungwon, face buried in his neck. He then pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it off somewhere in the room to join yours and Jungwon’s.

“Fuck, you did so good, baby.” Jungwon cooed as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple, hands smoothing over your hips and thighs, squeezing the soft plush.

After stripping, Sunoo walked back over to the two of you, rubbing your shoulders, “Think you can handle another one, princess?” His finger kneading into your sore muscles made you feel light as a moan escaped your lips. “Hmm?”

You removed your face from Jungwon’s neck, leaning back in Sunoo’s hands. “I can, Sun; please fuck me.” Your whiny voice left his dick twitching, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in your cunt beside Jungwon’s, but you weren't ready for that yet. Instead, he sat on the opposite side of the couch, smirking at you while your eyes watched him.

“Come here, princess.” He motioned for you, and you reluctantly lifted yourself off of Jungwon, making the two of you whine out in sensitivity.

Crawling into Sunoo’s lap, you were quick to grab his hard dick, trying to line it up with your entrance. However, Sunoo clicked his tongue, moving your hand away and you looked up at him confused.

“You’re so impatient, but don’t worry…” A squeak left your mouth when he grabbed your thighs, quickly lying you down on your back, hovering over you, “I can’t wait any longer either.”

He threw your legs over his shoulders before pushing into you swiftly. Your jaw fell slack, head falling back as the sudden intrusion. He wasn't much wider than Jungwon, but god, was he longer, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Fuck you’re still so tight.” He groaned, giving you a split second to adjust. You reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him towards you. He practically folded your body in half as he kissed you deeply, rutting his hips slowly until you gave him the green light.

As soon as you gave him the green light, he started to piston his hips into yours. Broken moans of his name fell from your tongue, tears spilling from your eyes. Every time he would hit your cervix, you swore you saw colors dancing in your vision.

“Fu- fuck Sunoo!” You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders at overwhelming pleasure.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I waited this long to fuck you.” Sunoo groaned, burying his face in your chest, nipping at the skin around your collarbones. Your brain was far too fogged to comprehend what he had just said; the only thought in your fucked out brain was how good it felt to finally have him buried in your cunt.

Sunoo wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that lingered in his system or if it was because he was so hard for so long, but he was already close to cumming. However, he wasn't about to cum before you; no, he needed to feel you cum around him. Pulling back, he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, thrusting faster into your abused pussy.

“Come on, baby, cum around my cock.” He cooed, biting back a groan when he saw Jungwon’s head thrown back as he rubbed his cock with sloppy and fast movements. Chuckling, he dropped one of your legs to grab your chin, forcing you to look back at the younger male, “Look how hard you got him, princess; he’s gonna cum again just by watching me fuck you.”

Your eyes met Jungwon’s, his hooded gaze making your body tingle and pussy clench. Sunoo watched with dark eyes, keeping his orgasm at bay until he got you to cum once more. Letting go of your face, he trailed his hand down your body to your heat, pressing sharply on your swollen clit.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” You chanted, eyes squeezing shut as your whole body started to shake. Your impending orgasm creeps up even faster, “Sunoo! I’m gonna cum.” You whined, back arching off of the couch. Sunoo hissed as you squeezed tightly around his cock before your walls started to flutter around him, silent screams falling from your lips.

“Shit, that was hot,” He groaned, moving his hand from your bundle of nerves. Grabbing your leg once more, thrusting into you in deep, hard movements. His eyes studied your fucked out expression wanting nothing more than to burn it into his brain, unsure if he’d get to see it again.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum again,” Jungwon whined, his thumb pressing against his tip. Sunoo’s eyes flickered up to him, a smirk adorning his lips.

“Then cum Won, cum all over our needy slut.” His words made your mind reel, unfocused eyes meeting Jungwon’s as your head fell back. Your heated gaze was enough to push him over the edge, cumming all over your chest and abdomen with a string of curses leaving his lips.

Sunoo’s hips shuddered, his high right on the tip of his tongue. Looking down, his eyes caught sight of the white ring that wrapped around the base of his cock. The sight flipped something in him, his pacing picking up once more, making you cry out in sensitivity.

“I’m gonna cum,” Sunoo groaned when you squeezed around him again, “gonna cum in this needy little pussy of yours, fill you up so full.” He growled, pushing his cock deep into your cunt, “so full you’ll be dripping for days.”

You gathered some of Jungwon’s cum onto your thumb before placing the digit in your mouth, eyes locked with Sunoo’s. The sight caused both of the males to groan, Sunoo’s hip shuddering.

“Then do it.” Your voice was hoarse as you pulled your thumb from your mouth with a ‘pop’.

That’s all it took for Sunoo to bust, groaning as he painted your gummy walls white. His hips fucking his and Jungwon’s cum into you until slowing to a stop. He let your legs down gently before pressing soft kisses to your face, letting your racing heart calm.

The three of you sat in comfortable silence, catching your breaths before Jungwon spoke up.

“Jay is going to kill us.” He panicked a little, causing both you and Sunoo to burst out laughing. Jungwon looked at the two of you with wide eyes before slowly melting and joining in.

You ran your fingers through Sunoo’s hair as his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your body sticky with sweat and cum. Suddenly acutely aware of this fact, you cringed, “We need to shower.”

The two males burst out laughing again before agreeing and helping you to the bathroom so you could shower. Maybe get another round or two in before the three of you piled into your queen bed, passing out.

“What the fuck?!” The sound of your brother’s shouts woke you dead out of your sleep, sitting up in bed quickly. Sunoo was right behind you, shaking his head out while Jungwon remained lying down, awake.

“Was that Jay?” You asked, looking over at Sunoo with wide eyes.

Sunoo opened his mouth to say that you had probably just heard things and that your brother wasn’t supposed to be back until that night. However, the sound of heavy footsteps shut him right up.

Jungwon shot up in the bed, eyes meeting yours and Sunoo’s panicked ones.

“We forgot to clean up the living room,” Jungwon whined, rubbing his face and flopping back down on the bed, accepting his fate.

Oh, you guys were definitely screwed.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡ��ʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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princessbrunette · 5 months ago

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basketball!rafe knew he needed you the moment he set eyes on you once more in that hotel bar.

personally, you thought he might’ve been a nobody on first glance. a really handsome nobody, so he couldn’t have actually been a nobody — but it was the intrigue that drew you in regardless. to set the scene, you didn’t have to go far to find him, no — this was the fanciest hotel in your hometown and you were there alone. something about getting all dressed up and then your friends cancelling last minute, it didn’t matter — it felt like so long ago that you’d forgotten all about it. all you remember was seeing the handsome nobody in a t-shirt and a cap strolling up to the bar.

it was only after doing a double take, you realised the nobody was rafe cameron.

now you’d already known rafe from the obx. distantly, of course — a couple of parties here and there, some lingering glances when you were convinced he was a fuck boy. he was apparently a little unhinged back in the day, but after his dad died he fixed his shit and went pro with basketball, making it big. like mentioned, you weren’t friends, merely acquaintances with the boy a couple of years your senior— but he’d always been someone you saw get their shit together and think, you know what? good for him i guess.

now rafe remembers his history with you differently. apparently, he used to shoot hoops with your older brother in your backyard with a few other friends back when they were younger. still a casual hobby for rafe, and playing it anywhere else but a kook’s backyard might’ve looked too poguey for him to be caught partaking in. at the end of the day, golf was meant to be his sport. it was fitting and low maintenance. basketball took the cake everytime however— helping him mentally in more ways than anyone could imagine.

anyway, he remembers you — a lot younger than you are now, flip flops slapping along the patio as you arrive on destination — mouthing off to your big brother about bouncing the ball too loudly off your wall or spending all the money your mother had left for pizza on the counter. you were this tiny mouthy weapon, even having the infamous rafe cameron snickering down at his shoes as your brother whined back at you, trying to shoo you back inside. he recalls even catching a couple of strays, your shrill youthful voice referring to the eldest cameron as a ‘lanky meathead’.

“jesus, you gotta keep your sisters mouth in check dude. gonna grow up n’get her in trouble n’shit.” he’d shake his head as you’d waddle back inside, bouncing the ball and shooting. after that it was just parties as you grew up, seeing a familiar pretty face through a coked out haze and thinking ‘who’s that again?’ in passing or overhearing you talking to your friends, still carrying that same slick mouth that you only got away with because you were so hot.

only now, he’s staring across this dimly lit hotel bar, the first time in a while that he’d been back in his hometown and there you are — staring back at him, a face he’d never forget except you’re all grown up now— practically spilling out that slinky little dress and acting as a magnet, his feet dragging him over to you before his drink had even arrived from the bartender.

not even five minutes into conversation and it’s abundantly clear that you’re still that spoiled little cheerleader he knew once upon a time, only this time you’re tilting your head to the side with your brows furrowed in confusion that bordered on disinterest when he tried to explain what happened in his most recent game. you weren’t here to talk about that and it showed, leaning over your margarita to adjust his expensive looking chain, pulling it to sit above his tshirt instead of tucked beneath, cutting him off to question “so you knew my brother, right?” he liked that directness about you. the fact you kinda seemed like a bitch. it was a challenge, the urge to tame and rough someone up still very much sat at the surface of his wants and desires.

once a spoiled brat — always a spoiled brat, only now you’re his spoiled brat six months later, clinging to his arm and digging your manicure into his bicep with a whine as a silent command for him to magically vanish any of the surrounding paparazzi outside the airport.

“get rid of them.” you eventually mewl, in a demanding way that represented the physical embodiment of you stomping your pedicured foot.

“you think i fuckin’ want them here?” he sighs, no stranger to your ridiculous requests. that’s what was so intoxicating about your relationship — yes you were a little bitch sometimes, but he learnt how was best to put you in your place. most of the time you were happy, fucked and fed with racks upon racks sat in your expensive handbag, clinging to him and tottering along at his side in heels that cost an arm and a leg— but the times you were snarking up at him, telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ he was more than happy to grab your throat and ask “the fuck are you talking to like that, huh?” which oddly would cause a smile to emerge on your face and the attitude to melt off you for an hour or so.

that being said, you kept him in check too. now rafe wasn’t like he always was — unhinged, explosive and overall angry at the world. no, he had an access to therapy now and basketball worked for a good outlet of his frustrations, all whilst opening up a new world for him to get his fresh start away from all that family bullshit he had to put up with a while back (cut them all off, minus wheezie who he sends money to every month and facetimes to talk shit.) that being said — he would be the one to catch an attitude out of the blue sometimes, which was often remedied by a sharp eyebrow raise from you, a dramatic head swivel and a “you better fucking talk to me nice, rafe cameron. not one of your fucking fan girls.”

with a tongue in his cheek, he’ll shake his head and drop the whole thing — but not without saying “y’know you run your mouth like you’re six foot four with two pistols tucked sometimes. shit.”

life outside of your relationship with rafe became a dream all because of him. quickly, as rafe skyrockets to success in the basketball world, you’re skyrocketing to being the top pinterest muse— starring in every girls ‘future manifestation’ moodboard with snaps of you courtside in your pretty little outfits cheering on your boyfriend. you were glammed to the nines at every game, because you knew you’d end up on that big screen one way or another.

when travelling with rafe for his tournaments, you’d get the princess treatment you deserved and that was a promise. designer shoes, designer bags, steak meals that cost the same as your house back home and you were not poor by any stretch of the word. he liked to flaunt you, flaunt his success. he was the man now, like he’d always wanted to be — and effortlessly so, not the charade he was putting on back at tanny hill throwing those parties whilst suffering on the sly. no, he had everything now— and was happy to share that with you. you didn’t have to do much to gain this treatment, no. holding him down was enough, but he’d be happy to accept your payment of gratitude in having his cock wedged down your throat in the limo back to the hotel, ending the night on your back with your ankles on his shoulders and that same chain you fiddled with when you first reunited swinging in your face.

it was no secret that the two of you fucked. it made up a good 60% of your free time together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. rafe could still get very frustrated — with his manager, with his teammates, with people from his past cropping up, even with the general public who had opinions on his playing — and with that, what better way to pound out some frustrations then by bending you over a balcony in a foreign country? rafe had a good team behind him, and luckily so — because it wouldn’t be the first time a hotel had attempted to get the two of you blacklisted for causing too much of a noise disturbance, notes pinned to your door found in the morning reading ‘Dear guests, whilst we are thrilled that you are enjoying our hotel, we please ask that you keep it down for the sake of the other guests. To remind you, other guests do not need to hear your lovemaking through the night! If this continues throughout your stay you will be asked to leave.’

your basketball player boyfriend would pluck the note off the door the next morning when you’re leaving together for the day, your sleepy self tucked under the arm of his hoodie covering his jersey as he scoffs, handing it your way carelessly. “pussies. they can’t do shit about it.”

unstoppably so, despite your hate for gossip past being in high school the notes would turn to blind items as rafe truly came into the public eye. you couldn’t scroll three videos on tiktok without hearing ‘this north carolina basketball player and hometown it girl may have come into hot water again at this famous vegas hotel after making sure their wall neighbours heard the ins and outs of their passion — april 27th, crazy days and nights.’ that, or the blogosphere getting ahold of the blurry and ambiguous paparazzi shots taken of you supposedly ‘getting it on’ on the beach.

unfortunately, this public knowledge that the two of you were real fuckers was not enough for twitter, which resulted in your first leaked video.

rafe should have known to be careful when the two of you in a lustful haze filmed an amateur tape the day before you had to fly home for a little while, the basketball player knowing he’d miss being in it and needed some material to work off whilst you were gone.

the video was 1 minute and 49 seconds of pure glory. filmed on landscape with an outstretched arm rafe captures you, whining and mewling as you roll your hips on his lap, bouncing on his cock as he watches the two of you through the screen, swollen lips parting and tongue flattening to catch your nipple as you do so. he grips your ass hungrily, aiding you on fucking down on him before delivering a firm smack to your ass that makes you jolt, only unlatching his mouth from your tit to grumble out “s’what i’m fuckin’ talking about baby. who’s your daddy, huh?” looking up at you from your needy spread out position.

you still recall the way your heart dropped into your ass seeing your name along side rafes in the trending tab, following by the words ‘leaked video’.

your legal teams were all over it instantly, working hard to get it shut down off every site it had been reuploaded and desperately attempting to track down whoever had managed to get into your boyfriends cloud to expose it— a couple weeks of watching paparazzi shots of rafe taking calls outside buildings, yelling down the phone and flipping off the cameras in moments of frustration and stress — for him to then be on the phone to you from a hotel room later that night, talking you down as you cry like a baby and complain.

“i know, i know alright i’m workin’ on it. gonna get that shit wiped from the net i can promise you that now, i got the guy who can make it happen for me. but for now, look y’know there’s — there’s nothin’ i can do alright, i can’t make people fuckin’… unsee that shit unfortunately just be glad you look so sexy in the video cause — okay, shit, the hell are you yelling for? m’just tryna help—”

after a while it does infact die down, and the video can no longer be found — yes, even on the shitty pop up porn sites that had reposted it with twelve watermarks in the worst quality. however, it didn’t stop jaded basketball fans from bringing it up any chance they got — getting in heated debates online and using it as an insult to the cameron boys playing skills. god forbid a rafe fan would speak up for him after a particularly poor game, his mentions getting filled with nothing but a screenshot of your boyfriend with your titty in his mouth.

though it had faded, the two of you learned that there was no way around it than to humour it — your boyfriend barely addressing the tape by quoting it in his instagram caption after one of his big wins, the post of him grinning on the court with his trophy tilted ‘who’s your daddy, huh?’ which of course, sent twitter into a spiral.

#div by crylynnluv #rafe cameron prompt #basketball!rafe #just a lore post … enjoy

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changetyre · 26 days ago

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Look after my friends

SUMMARY: You and Max have friends from the grid over for a nice family day when they decide to try a trend on you...it doesn't go exactly as planned. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Super short. fluff.

A/N: Another tiktok inspired drabble that I uploaded over on wattpad a while ago ;)

"Hold on a sec can you guys look after the parents please." Lando walked in his phone facing him before he propped it in front of you and Max.

Both of you saw the red icon indicating it was filming you. You looked up as those around you began laughing at your confused faces.

"What is this?" You asked smiling at the joke you weren't getting.

Aside from many other things one of the small factors that made you and Max so perfect for each other was the way you both were so disconnected from the internet even before having Lea and Ivy. It was easy to play viral pranks on you because you both were simply never aware they existed.

"What are we supposed to do?" Max turned around to look for Lando who had disappeared.

"Is this live or something?" You furrowed your brows leaning closer to the camera.

"PAPA! Look at what I drew!" Lea ran towards her dad completely distracting you both from the filming phone.

Lea climbed up on her dad's lap with his help. She held up the drawing showing a childlike depiction of the current scene. Children playing in your garden and her parents, uncles, and aunts sitting around the long table.

"Oh my god Lea this is amazing." Max beamed proudly turning the drawing around to show everyone around the table.

"Wow!" Compliments flew in from all of Lea's favorite people making her shy away and tuck herself in Max's chest.

"Mama I dwaw too." Ivy who was in a faze of copying everything her sister did attempted to climb up your lap. You picked her up placing her on your lap.

"Let's see what you drew my darling." You encouraged Ivy to show you.

She turned around showing a pink circle and a smaller purple circle with a bunch of scribbles of different colors around it.

"Wow, Ivy is that you and Lea?" You asked her pointing at the pink and purple circles knowing pink was Lea's favorite colour and purple hers.

"YES Mama!" She got excited at the fact you recognized her. "This is wando, this is auntie wiwy, this is uncwe Ozzie, this is auntie awex, this is uncwe chawie, this is-" She pointed at every scribble and you were surprised to find she'd matched the color of the scribbles to what they were wearing.

"Wow Ivy good job." Max also complimented his youngest daughter. "I have such talented daughters." The pride in Max's voice made you look at him lovingly.

"Can you guys draw me something for my house?" Dani asked the girls.

"YES!" They both cheered excitedly before shimmying of your laps and running back to their coloring area.

"Me too please!" Charles called out.

"And me!" Oscar called after followed by the others.

Both you and Max turned to look at each other huge smiles on your face. "We might have two artists in our hands." You commented.

Max placed a sweet kiss on your lips. "Maybe a little racer is in here." Max placed a hand on your growing bump, your noses brushing as you both looked at each other in adoration.

"Ugh, you both are too in love for this challenge." Lando walked back to the garden picking up the phone you both had completely forgotten about.

Everyone burst out in laughter as once again Max and you both looked at each other confused.

It's safe to say the f1 world went crazy at the video, a fact you were also too oblivious to.

#f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #f1fluff #max verstappen x reader #Dad!Max Verstappen #Verstappen x reader #f1grid #f1multi

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honeekyuu · 3 months ago

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talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

ten. ruin

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. uhm....... yeah.

warnings: swearing, phone sex

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“No you didn’t-”

“I did!” Suna laughs on the other end, and you giggle into your cup in response, brain fuzzy and warm. “I walked into a room full of fourth years and pulled out my canvas and when I looked up— boom. Naked ass man, dick in my face-”

“Stop!” you wheeze, shaking your head. “How the hell did you not realize-”

“I was nervous! I was so nervous to be there that I didn’t even realize I was in the wrong fucking room.”

“Did you leave?!”

“No! Of course I fucking didn’t!” You hear two sharp thuds on the other end and know just by the sound that Suna’s pounding his fist on the table. “I tunnel-visioned my way into a nude modeling class as a first year — you really think I had the courage to get up and leave after that?”

You take a long sip of your mixed drink, leaning back against the arm of your couch and sighing deep after you swallow. “So? Then what happened?”

“Uh – I missed syllabus day of Art as Identity and drew a charcoal recreation of some random guy’s penis. Komori has it framed in his kitchen. It’s a talking point for guests and friends alike.”

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an introvert,” you say, shaking your head with a giddy grin. “You’re so loud with me-”

“Okay, go ahead and add salt to the wound-” he barks sarcastically, snickering when you break into laughter.

“You’re funny, Suna,” you say openly after a minute, sighing into the admission. “More people should know how funny you are.”

“Just you’s enough, I think — and maybe your friends, just so they like me,” he responds, quiet filling the space between you for a moment. You chew on your lip while you think.

“What’d you think of them?” you whisper after a moment. “My friends.”

“Your friends?” he repeats, confusion seeping into his voice. “I mean, I always thought Suga was a weird dude, but he’s overall pretty chill and funny. Especially with Alisa – they fight a lot, don’t they?”

You smile fondly. “She likes to make him angry. He’s really easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They seem like good friends. I feel like I got to know you better by meeting them.”

You sigh quietly, the question burned into your mind starting to feel like guilt. You shouldn’t ask, because the truth is that your friends are the perfect friends. They’re both perfect, and you don’t know where you’d be without them. And you’re not in the habit of comparing yourself to your best friend, because you know she’d kill you for doing that.

But still, the question lingers.

“And… Alisa?” you ask, feeling the terrible guilt burn in your throat like bile. “What’d you think of her?”

You can hear the wheels turning in Suna’s head, the silence on his end growing haunting as the seconds tick by.

“I think she’s beautiful,” he says, and – through the horrible, disappointed swooping in your gut – you realize that him being this honest even when he can tell what’s bothering you only makes you trust him more. He knows what you’re looking for, and he makes no move to sugarcoat his thoughts for you. Your respect for him grows. “But me acknowledging that she’s beautiful and me having feelings for you can both be true. Can’t they?”

You shut your eyes, sighing. You feel like an idiot. “Yes.”

“Just because your best friend is beautiful, that doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“I know.”

“I can think she’s beautiful and also think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh, my God,” you laugh, embarrassed. “I get it, Suna. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, and you can hear his smile. “Promise not to do it again?”

“No,” you mutter. He laughs.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You feel the conversation end there, and, despite the embarrassment, you feel glad that you asked. “I was thinking about something a minute ago actually,” he says, interrupting your thought. “You call me by my last name.”

You quirk an eyebrow, the previous conversation forgotten, and purse your lips. “Is it not your name?”

“Yeah, but…” He swallows audibly and then laughs to himself. “Your friends also call me Suna.”

You warm, seeing where this is going. “Would you rather me call you Rintarou?” His name feels foreign in your mouth, as if your tongue is just as nervous as you are, but you kind of like the taste of it.

His name feels important.

The other end of the line goes completely silent, long enough that you pull your phone away from your face to check that the call’s still connected.

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I dunno anymore. I was gonna suggest it, but I dunno if I can handle that, Y/n.”

Your name sounds important on his tongue, too.

Your chest starts to flutter with nerves, but the alcohol wants you to push it. “What about Rin?” It tastes intimate and presumptuous, that cut of his name from three syllables to one. You want him to taste it, too.

“Christ,” he laughs. “God, Y/n. You tryna kill me? You sent your friends to wound me critically and now this?”

“I think I like that one, actually,” you breathe. “Rin.”

“Stop it,” he laughs weakly.

“Rin.” You roll it around in your mouth, sinking deeper into your couch while you consider it.

“Cut it out,” he whispers, soft and breathy.

“Rinnie.” You like the way your lips wrap around it. You like the space it takes up and the way your voice cradles it, round and warm.

“Y/n.” His voice isn’t round and warm. It’s sharp. Thick with warning. Dragging your own name down your back like the back of a blade, leaving your skin pebbled with goosebumps and the base of your spine tugging at a knot under your navel dangerously. “Cut it out.”

You shiver and press your thighs together. “Okay,” you breathe, a soft whine coating the sound. The alcohol wants you to push your luck, and it’s so wonderfully easy to listen. “Sorry, Rinnie.”

“Shit,” he groans quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly fucking what.”

Your stomach flips at his tone, and there’s a pulse of desire between your thighs that has you biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your head is warm and staticky and desperately likes the sound of Suna’s voice, especially when he talks to you like that.

“So?” you whisper, the courage there but incredibly small and entirely driven the liquor in your cup. “Are you hard?”

Suna’s exhale is sharp, surprised. “W-What?”

“You said over text.” Your face burns, but the idea of Suna Rintarou getting turned on by a combination of your voice and the way you say his name has you pushing out of your comfort zone. You want him too much. “That if I called you, you’d get hard. Are you?”

He breathes hard for a beat, the sound shaky. And then he whispers, the sound soft and right in your ear in the most delicious way.

“You know I am, pretty girl.”

“How long?”

“Since you said my name.”

You shiver, pressing your thighs together hard. The flip of your nerves, low in your gut, is sharpened and heightened by the buzz of vodka in your veins, and you gasp quietly, trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“You should do something about that,” you whisper, skin vibrating when you do. You’d never be this confident sober.

He whines in response.

Suna Rintarou whines in your ear, desperate and impossible to deny.

You feel your body become addicted to a man you’ve never met.

“‘re you sure?” he breathes. “I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t-“

“Want you to do it,” you whisper, pulse racing and legs damn near going numb from how nervous you are. “Wanna hear you touch yourself.”

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and laced with frustration. “Fuck, Y/n — how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re not,” you try. “Unless you really don’t want t-“

“I do. Fuck, I do.” He sounds the most sober he’s sounded all night, direct and honest and making your heart feel like it’s going to rip out of your chest. “Will-I…” You hear him swallow. “Will you do it, too? Are you turned on?”

Your heart jumps into your throat, hope and desire mixing dangerously with the vodka. “Yes.”

“What’s that an answer to?” he laughs, weak and nervous.

“Both.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Will you? Want you to feel good, too.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds insecure, even in your own ears. You still aren’t used to that — to him.

“Yes,” he urges. “God, yes. I want to make you feel good so badly, baby.” He swallows. “Can I talk to you? Make you feel good like that?” Your shaky exhale must speak for you, because he just gives another weak laugh. “Yeah? Is that okay?”

You’ve never been so full of want that it makes you cry, but you’re pretty damn close at this singular moment in time.

“Okay,” you say, voice wavering. Suna’s exhale on the other line is just as shaky.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Shit-Uhm. C-Can I have a picture, baby? If that’s okay?”

You whine in protest, already embarrassed, but you can hear how nervous he is. How unused to this he is. That this is just as terrifying and embarrassing for him, that he’s putting himself out there for you.

It would be rude not to reciprocate.

You take a steeling breath and pull the phone away from your face, setting it on the coffee table and putting it on speakerphone. “I look kind of messy,” you say. You start to adjust your clothes, grimacing at the frumpy shirt and shorts you’re wearing.

“I like messy,” he says, and you laugh pathetically.

“It’s not very sexy.” You pull your hair down and ruffle it to be as attractive as possible, and then you consider your shorts for a full two seconds before throwing caution to the wind and getting rid of them. They land on the floor with an audible fwip, and Suna’s silent on the other end.

“Please tell me you didn’t just take all your clothes off,” he breathes finally. “I don’t know if I’m in a state to emotionally handle that right now.”

You giggle, face burning and heart pounding in your ears as you open your camera and angle it favorably. ”Not all my clothes.”

“Shit.”

You cross one arm over your torso and use it to push your breasts up, watching them swell in the camera. A rush of heat burns at your ears and neck, and your lip wobbles while you take the picture.

Lifting the phone close, you examine the photo. You can see all the flaws that you’ve always seen, and it makes you freeze with insecurity. Makes you want to delete it and back out.

But then you hear him, his quiet ‘baby?’ on the other end, and you remember who you’re talking to.

You hope he won’t see all the flaws you do — but there’s a piece of you that knows he will see them, but not as flaws. Because that’s who he is.

Breath held tight in your lungs, you send off the photo, and then your head starts to pound with anxiety.

Will he like it? Will he think it’s awkward? Will he realize that maybe he thinks you’re pretty, but he’s not sexually attracted to you the way he thought he would be—

“Oh, holy shit-” Suna’s voice is tight, thick with an emotion that’s so clearly lust that even you can’t deny it. ”Holy shit, Y/n. You’re so fucking-” He cuts off, taking a shuddering breath. “Fuck, I might start drooling.”

You laugh, the tension breaking a little. “You’re funny-”

“I’m not joking.” Your breath catches at the sharp snap of his voice — your heart lurches, and desire swirls violently in your gut, because Suna Rintarou’s voice is starting to do that to you. “I’m not fucking joking, Y/n — you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You blink, sinking low on the couch. “What?”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Y/n, you turn me on so much. I’m so fucking-” He laughs. “God, it’s embarrassing.”

Your fingers shake as you press the phone desperately to your ear. “You’re so fucking what?” you ask meekly, nervous but craving more with every second that passes.

He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I’m so fucking hard right now. Because of you. Because of this one photo.”

Your free hand drops between your thighs before you can think too long about it. “And you haven’t done anything about it yet?”

“Oh, my God,” he groans, and you can hear the want in his voice. The strain in his tone as he tries to keep himself in line. “God, I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last with you, Y/n.”

The pads of your fingers press to your clothed clit when he says your name — important, full — and it makes your desire curl and snap. You moan quietly, pursing your lips together to stop the sound — just a moment too late.

“Fuuuck-” he says, reacting immediately to your voice. You hear shuffling, and then a burning, brutal exhale of relief, and you know he’s touching himself. The low whine trapped in his throat tells you as much. Tells you how badly he’s trying to keep his head on straight for you.

You don’t want him to do that. You want him as lost as you are.

So you shut your eyes and lean your head back and let the alcohol take control. Let the fuzzy static in your head grow louder, let the desire throbbing in your core grow stronger. Let the choked whine in Suna’s throat take over, pulling you that much closer to the edge.

“Rin,” you breathe, yielding control to your limbs and smothering all hesitation in favor of slipping your hand past the band of your underwear. When your fingers touch down to your core, cold fingertips to searing hot skin, you moan louder. Loud enough to be heard and not caring enough to stop it. “Fuck, Rin— Can I have a picture, too?” He groans on the other line, shaky and uneven, and you whine in response. “Please? It’s only fair…”

He doesn’t say a single word back — just gives a trembling breath when you beg — but your phone buzzes against your face a moment later.

He’s got his hand down his sweats, the outline of his cock clear and the outline of his hand wrapped around it even clearer. His face is flushed a deep, searing red, and his parted lips are swollen and pink, eyes hooded with desire as he looks up into the camera.

He’s in bed. He’s in bed, drunk and touching himself while thinking about you — the you in the photo, the you on your couch, touching yourself while you think about him, too.

“Christ,” you whisper, eyes flying across the screen while your fingers dip low and slip with terrible ease past your entrance — two fingers in, the stretch heavenly, when your eyes land on the outline of his cock. “I don’t know if I can take you, Rinnie.”

His inhale is shocked and laced with a moan, and then he’s coming undone in your ear.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can take me so well.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp, back arching off the couch and fingers curling hard against your walls. “You would make me-”

“Gonna make you take it,” he finishes in a voice so rough and broken that you know he’s stopped trying to keep control, too. “Wanna make you take it, wanna show you how good you are for me. How much you’re made for me-”

“Oh, my God, I’m-”

“Wanna make you come around me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock, pretty girl.”

“Rin,” you squeak in warning, your gut curling hard with desire, tension so close to snapping. “Rinnie, I-”

“Want my name on your tongue when I come inside you.” His voice is pitching up, breath stuttering and syllables twisting short in his mouth. “Want my name in your mouth when I ruin you for anyone else.”

It’s only right, then, that you cry his name when your orgasm slams into you full-force, pulsing and crashing down over you without warning.

By the time you come back to yourself, your walls are twitching with aftershocks around your fingers, and your breath is loud and heavy in your ears.

Suna’s own breath is shaky in your ears, too. He whispers your name, tired and drained but still full. Still important.

You might have ruined him for anyone else, too.

#haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna smut #haikyuu x reader

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deebris · 2 months ago

Text

Between us

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: This would be the first night you and Bruce would spend together as father and daughter, something you had been eagerly looking forward to. Everything seemed peaceful during dinner until the main singer of the restaurant, Bruce's ex-girlfriend from many years ago, decided to show up and stir things up.

Warnings: Mentions cheating, discrimination agaisnt people with physical disabilities (not from Bruce, not from you), a bit of angst, fluff at the end.

Word count: 5.2k

Note: This is part of The Mysterious Visitor universe, but for those who haven’t read it: the reader is Damian’s twin (though there are no physical descriptions of her), and Talia kept it a secret from Bruce even after her son became Robin. The reader began living with the Batfamily at the age of 13.

You smiled as you reached the last step of the staircase and heard the melody of Dream a little dream of me being played. This restaurant wasn’t very different from those you used to visit with your mother, but it was still different in many ways. It was a large hall, full of yellow lights and whispers from the various conversations happening simultaneously, but what caught your attention most was the singer. Her voice was powerful, yet as soft as a feather. Her arms moved gracefully, as if she knew precisely where to guide them.

Today, it was just you and Bruce, but you had barely entered the place before several men in fine suits began greeting him and making jokes, most of which you didn’t understand. Your smaller figure went unnoticed, and you made no effort for this, staying in your personal silence while you admired the chandeliers and walls with wide eyes. The place wasn’t discreet and was obviously very expensive.

You liked observing people. Many beautiful young women were laughing, but what drew your attention were the unique hairstyles and dresses each of them wore. As Bruce tried to follow the waiter to your table, someone would rise from their own seat every few seconds to talk to him. Yet despite all the handshakes, he never let go of your hand. Until an older lady noticed the little girl Bruce Wayne had brought along:

“And who is this young lady, Bruce?” she asked with a warm smile, and you finally stopped looking around to focus on the people your father was conversing with.

“This is my daughter, Ophelia,” he said, calling the woman by her first name with familiarity. Bruce had a certain affection for her, as she had been a friend of his mother when she was alive.

“Oh! Martha would have been so happy to see the two of you.” She placed a hand on her chest and gently stroked your chin. “And where have you been hiding her?”

“She lived with her mother, but she’s staying with me now,” Bruce replied, beaming at the lady, who excitedly called her husband and son, likely around your father’s age, to come greet you. They were among the few people you truly enjoyed meeting.

It didn’t take long for you two to finally reach your table. Bruce pulled out a chair for you to sit, then took his own. The waiter immediately poured wine for him, while your glass remained filled only with water.

“Do you like the music?” he suddenly asked, noticing how you were staring at the musicians.

“I do,” you said, starting to fiddle with the napkins. “I tried playing the flute once,” you mentioned, and Bruce loved when you initiated conversations without realizing it. It made it easier for him to learn more about you, and in a way, it was an endearing trait of your personality.

“Tried? Why did you give up?” He kept the conversation going, relaxed in his chair and entirely focused on every small expression you made.

“I didn’t have enough breath to blow,” you snapped your lips in frustration, remembering how disappointing it was not to be able to play. Your father wanted to laugh internally but did everything to hold it back, knowing it would irritate you. “Do you play anything?”

“I used to play piano, but I’ve had no time, and I barely remember the last time I touched one,” he squinted as he spoke, and you felt sad seeing how much he seemed to miss the instrument.

“Why is there a woman in costume over there?” you asked suddenly, changing the subject entirely, and your father had to turn his head to see whom you were talking about. There was a woman in flamboyant clothes and a white wig talking to a man Bruce recognized as the owner of the establishment.

“She’s the opera singer who used to perform here when it was still a theater.” He got comfortable in his seat again and opened the menu. “She only goes on stage at 10. If you want, we can stay and watch her later.”

“This used to be a theater?” you perked up, scanning the room again, trying to imagine how it must have looked years ago, without all these tables and with an audience facing the stage. Bruce smiled internally, having caught on that your curiosity had been piqued.

“When the old owner died, his son decided to turn the place into a restaurant,” he glanced briefly at you and noticed how you were expecting him to say more. “The boy didn’t live in the city, and when he came back, he thought the business was too archaic. But he decided to keep some of the staff as a tradition.”

“I wish I could have watched a play here,” you said, frustrated, resting your head between your hands. Bruce thought about telling you to take your arms off the table but dismissed the idea.

“You’ve never seen one?” He turned to the next page, evaluating the meals.

“No… Only on TV,” you replied, poking at the edge of the other menu the waiter had left for you but not bothering to open it.

“We can go one day. I’ll take you,” he said after finally deciding what to order, but before calling the waiter, he looked at you curiously. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”

“I…” you hesitated for a moment. “Can you choose for me?” you asked with pleading eyes.

Bruce frowned. He opened his mouth to understand but closed it immediately. He had noticed details about your behavior like this in recent weeks—small, seemingly insignificant things that still managed to catch him by surprise. It was normal for children your age to choose what they wanted to eat, but it seemed Talia had been very strict about your diet. Alfred prepared your meals, and Bruce couldn’t recall you refusing any of them. Fortunately, you seemed easygoing in this aspect.

“Are you sure you don’t want to choose? Something savory instead of sweet?” he suggested, and you thought for a moment but nodded. Bruce knew about your fondness for sweets, which made him sometimes push you to avoid them.

Bruce raised his hand to call the waiter, but suddenly a high-pitched female voice approached from behind. Neither of you had noticed when the singer had finished her song, stepping away from the microphone while the band played without vocals, heading toward your table.

“Bruce Wayne!” she called out excitedly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Your father looked at her, not expecting her to come over, barely noticing the man accompanying her until he also started speaking, though more loudly than her.

“Miss Conti,” Bruce muttered her name uncomfortably. “Mr. Williams,” he acknowledged the restaurant’s owner. After Williams took over the place following his father’s death, Conti was hired as the main attraction. The two had a public affair, something socially frowned upon, but for some reason, the man’s wife tolerated the scandal.

“Mr. Wayne, I needed to talk to you. Are you enjoying the evening?” Williams attempted to start, but he was interrupted:

“Oh, come on, Bruce. You know you can call me Cecilia,” the woman chimed in, rubbing your father’s shoulder with her thumb before removing her hand completely and then noticing you sitting next to him. She opened an even bigger smile, though her eyes didn’t follow suit, widening with curiosity. “And who’s this lovely girl here?”

Bruce let out a small laugh, happy to mention you. “This is my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter. How’s Richard doing? Still as confident as when he was a boy? God, he must be a grown man by now.” She made comment after comment but didn’t give Bruce a chance to respond before she started speaking again: “Oh, but you’re such a cute little thing.” She approached your chair, cautiously analyzing your face, running her fingers over your earlobe and then sliding them along your jaw. You had no other reaction but to thank her, feeling uncomfortable with her touch and very confused about who they were.

“You’re very beautiful too, Miss,” you said sincerely. The woman before you was truly stunning. Her blonde hair was impeccably styled in an elegant bun, and her makeup remained flawless, without a smudge. She wore an orange dress adorned with small sparkling stones that glimmered under the lights. Your teenage eyes were captivated by her appearance. She didn’t seem to be more than 40 years old.

“Oh, hearing her speak makes her even more adorable,” she gestured in the air as if wanting to pinch your cheeks, softening her voice the way people often do when talking to pets.

“A really lovely young lady, if I may say so,” Williams added with an awkward smile as he pulled a chair from another table to sit. You looked at Bruce, confused, thinking it would just be the two of you. The woman did the same but, instead of fetching one herself, asked a random man in a staff uniform to bring her one. “Remember what we were discussing at the city library’s grand opening, Wayne?”

“George, forget business for a second. Let’s have some fun,” Cecilia cut him off. “Where did you two come from?” she asked you both.

“We were at the auction,” your father answered, tense at their lack of social grace. If you hadn’t been there, Bruce wouldn’t have hesitated to be rude and tell them to get lost, but in front of his children, he tried to keep that side of him in check.

“Oh! The one the opposing candidate, DuPont, organized?” she added a malicious tone to her voice, as if implying something. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you supporting one of your biggest competitors in Gotham’s mayoral race, Bruce.”

“We’re competitors, not enemies,” he tried to respond lightly. “Besides, I don’t see why we couldn’t end up collaborating.”

"You should have declared support for the current mayor. The citizens of Gotham tend to reelect the same names, as you well know. Carnegie will win again," the other man interrupted. Bruce, impatient, clenched his fists under the table, frustrated with the direction the conversation had taken. He had hoped for a quiet dinner alone with you to get to know you better, but it seemed he had chosen the wrong place.

"Mr. Williams, no offense intended, my only reason for being here is to have dinner with my daughter. Please, let’s put politics aside for tonight." He wished he could ask both of them to leave, but suddenly, Cecilia started talking to you. Bruce, visibly irritated, called the waiter, wanting to finish the meal as quickly as possible so he could leave. After placing his order, he turned to you and asked, "Carbonara?" Seeing you nod, he ordered that too.

"I'll go for an arugula salad with truffles," Cecilia said, her smile becoming increasingly irritating, seemingly oblivious to Bruce's displeasure.

"For me, a lobster ravioli with lemon foam and caviar," Williams added, just to be included, and you grimaced at the thought of caviar.

"What did you think of the auction? Did your father buy something special for you?" Cecilia turned to you at the table, with a noticeable interest in getting your attention.

"It was interesting, Miss Conti," you replied simply, using the surname you remembered your father mentioning.

"Oh, dear..." Cecilia said in a falsely disheartened tone. "Bruce drags you to these boring events? Girls your age usually prefer to go to the movies or something like that."

"I like movies," you said, irritated, not quite understanding what she was getting at. "And I enjoyed the auction. There were some very beautiful paintings there."

"Argh, I hope you’re not talking about those by Isabela Zaragoza." She picked up a wine glass the waiter had served a few minutes earlier and drank. "She can only sell her works at charity auctions." She let out a sarcastic laugh, and Mr. Williams joined in.

You looked at Bruce for a response, but all you saw was a hard look. Your father was hardly looking at any of you, breathing deeply with impatience. You didn’t like what they were doing; it seemed cruel, even though you had no idea who Isabela Zaragoza was.

"Oh, Bruce. You know it's true." She rolled her eyes, and it was clear that Cecilia was the dominant one in the duo, always very talkative and starting conversations. "In all of Gotham City, the only one who buys her art is your father. It must be out of pity; someone who paints with their feet probably won't get very far in their career."

You were shocked by what she said. It was something so unexpected to hear that you froze in place completely. It was absurdly cruel, and seeing your wide eyes, along with Bruce's furious expression, made Williams, who had been laughing with her earlier, become nervous.

"Cecilia!" He whispered her name sharply. "She was just joking. Zaragoza is a fantastic artist." He tried to ease the tense atmosphere, sweating coldly.

"I must say she paints better with her feet than you sing with your mouth, Miss Conti." Bruce suddenly replied in a dangerously low voice, and it seemed to hit a nerve with her, as the calluses that were forming in her voice knocked her confidence. He knew he was wrong to try to humiliate her back; it wasn’t a mature move, especially since he didn’t want you to take that as an example.

You let out a quiet laugh at that but immediately stopped when Bruce looked at you. He had a soft sadness, not of disappointment, but of concern. He regretted his own behavior and knew he would need to talk to you about what Cecilia and he had said later. The woman in question tried to laugh with you at first but miserably failed. It was obvious that Bruce had wounded her ego.

"When we were dating, you praised my voice a lot, Bruce." She suddenly mentioned, and you looked at him in surprise. You hadn’t noticed how your father had almost frozen in place before asking:

"You and my dad used to date?" Your voice carried genuine curiosity, and Mr. Williams beside you seemed uncomfortable with the topic.

"Yes, dear." She looked at you, then turned her face to Bruce mockingly. In the background, you could hear your father clearing his throat, trying to draw your attention away from the subject, but he couldn’t. "It's been many years. It was fun for a few months, that is until Robert found out, of course." She laughed a little too loudly for the setting, taking another sip from her glass.

"Who is Robert?" You asked, your voice dropping, your playful smile now gone due to the strangeness of the conversation.

"Oh, he was my husband." She said it as if it were nothing, and Bruce suddenly stood up from the table, moving to his seat and pulling you to leave. His expression had crumpled like paper as he stood up automatically, still processing what she had said.

"Let’s go." Bruce told you, embarrassed but trying to mask it with an expression of fury.

"But the dishes haven’t even arrived yet, Bruce." Cecilia melodramatically added, placing a hand on his arm, a silent request to stay.

"We're leaving." He repeated more firmly, pulling you by the shoulders away from her. Bruce leaned a bit over the table to face her head-on, and with harshness, he unleashed his anger on her: "I know what you're trying to do, you viper, and you will regret this. Never dare to approach me or her again."

"Did I say something wrong?" She spoke cynically, finally showing an expression that matched her feelings for him: disdain.

"Wayne, we can resolve this." William stood up from the chair, visibly shaken. The meticulous plan he had been crafting for months was crumbling before his eyes. Bruce's funding was the key to expanding the restaurant, and Cecilia had ruined everything. "I'm sure we can forget this incident if Ceci apologizes."

Bruce felt the tension rise in his body, the throb of a vein in his forehead, while the heat of irritation burned under his skin. "Do you think I’m going to accept something like that? In front of my daughter?" He spat the words, struggling to maintain his composure. His fists were clenched, ready for a blow that never came. It was only when you gently tugged on his arm that he made the decision to leave. As you walked out, William's frustrated shouts echoed through the hall, his anger directed at the blonde woman, who was furious at being dismissed immediately.

Bruce's frustration was palpable. The last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as inconvenient as Cecilia, especially in your presence. The shadow of his reckless past still hung over him, an open wound. Women like her were living reminders of the regrets that haunted him, of thoughtless choices he would do anything to change.

Near the exit, you spotted the opera singer again, and the memory of what your father had promised you tugged at your heart. "Aren't we going to stay to hear the opera lady?" your voice carried a twinge of sadness.

Bruce sighed, his fingers gently squeezing your shoulders, but the discomfort was evident on his face. "Sorry, I know you wanted that." The weight of the situation was palpable, and he couldn’t help but imagine what you were thinking about him now.

The chauffeur, caught off guard by the rush, quickly opened the door. Bruce, however, did not wait. He let you enter first, slamming the door shut as soon as he settled in. Inside the car, he exhaled the air he hadn’t realized he was holding, diverting his gaze to you. His focus was on the scenery, his face too serene, but he noticed how you were biting your nails—a small sign of nervousness.

He swallowed hard. What a terrible way to end the evening, right next to you. The silence hung heavy in the air, and he feared asking what was going through your mind. Who would have thought? Bruce Wayne, afraid of the words of a child.

For a moment, he watched you press your cheek against the glass, your eyes wandering over the city lights.

"S/n," he called your name, his voice hoarse. You murmured in response, waiting for him to continue. Bruce opened his mouth, but the words got lost along the way. His expression hardened, and he turned to the window as well, the silence remaining until you arrived at the mansion. And you, very focused on observing the movement of the streets, didn’t mind.

When you arrived at the entrance, Alfred was already there, helping you take off your thick coat at that very moment. The butler was surprised at how quickly the two of you returned. He knew that Bruce wouldn’t take long because of you, needing to sleep early, but he hadn’t expected it to be at this hour.

"Master Bruce, Miss Y/n. Did something happen?" He asked, noticing your silence. For Bruce, this was a common demeanor, but whenever your went out, you returned home commenting on every tiny detail of everything you saw.

"Boring people." You replied with a grimace, using that false tone of indifference that Alfred knew how to identify very well.

"Boring people?" He returned rhetorically while glancing at Bruce, who silently took off his own coat and exited the room without saying goodbye to either of you. He had certainly overheard the brief conversation but was ignoring you two. "There are always a few." The older man said with a smile at you.

“I don’t like going to places with a lot of people; it’s annoying having to give everyone an explanation. But it was nice to go out with Bruce.” You started voicing your thoughts aloud, and Alfred knew you wouldn’t hold back in front of him.

Sometimes he felt like you treated him as a sort of confidant, a diary, but then he realized you didn’t make an effort to hide anything from anyone in particular, except for extremely specific things. Another clear sign of Talia. She must have raised you to be like this, as no other girl your age would likely be so open.

“Did you have fun with him?” The butler continued encouraging you.

“Yes!” You became animated again, just as you had on other occasions. It seemed like all you needed was a little push to break the ice. “He let me place bids at the auction. I even competed with someone.”

“Did you win?”

“Yes!” You repeated the exasperated expression. “In the end, I almost didn’t place a final bid because the money got really high, but Bruce said to keep going.”

“And what did you get?” Alfred asked, guiding you to the kitchen. At some point, you would ask for his hot chocolate, so he preferred to get ahead of it.

“It was a compass from the colonial era.” You followed him and sat in the middle chair at the counter, one of the seats in front of the stove, since watching the butler cook had become one of your hobbies. It happened so often that everyone knew that chair was yours, and only you sat in it. “The money went to the children from the orphanage, so Bruce said I could.”

“Well done.” He replied, very focused on something but still paying attention to every word you said. Just then, Jason entered the kitchen, surprised to see you there, just like Alfred.

“You got back early.” He commented, recognizing the situation, raising his eyebrows at the butler, who gave him a keen look as he watched him head for the fridge. “What happened?” The boy asked, lacking any real interest.

“Bruce argued with a couple at the restaurant after the auction.” You said, resting your head on the counter, and Alfred could feel his ears itching. He had finally arrived at the point he wanted. “I saw a motorcycle like yours when we were coming back.” You added for your brother.

“Bruce argued at the restaurant?” Jason questioned you, ignoring your last sentence, not out of malice, but because he didn’t expect the animated man who had left home earlier to come back with such news.

“It wasn’t really a fight.” You tried to correct yourself, feeling guilty for revealing this since neither of them seemed very happy. “He just ended up discussing.”

Alfred extended an arm toward Jason as if asking for permission to interject in the matter. “Miss Y/n, who did Master Bruce argue with?”

You worried you were saying too much and might upset Bruce later because of it, but the way things happened, you knew the people at the tables around must have seen the scene, even if they didn’t know the context. Sooner or later, they would know who the parties involved were.

“A man named... Williams I think.” You whispered, looking at a random point as you tried to remember his name, losing Jason’s incredulous expression as he recognized the name of the place’s owner. “And a woman named Cecilia Conti.” The last name made Alfred nod silently, as he remembered the woman well.

“What did those two do to annoy him?” Jason dared to ask, looking at the butler with curiosity. The man was good at hiding feelings, but he sensed that Alfred knew very well the last person. The name wasn’t strange, but still, it wasn’t someone Jason recalled being mentioned with any importance.

The delay in hearing your answer made the two of them stare at you again in confusion. You pulled your hands from the counter and joined them in your lap, never meeting their gazes. It was an uncomfortable situation for you, and unfortunately very disappointing, but you knew Bruce wouldn’t want you to go around sharing this. If you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want anyone to know either. It wasn’t something that should be simply said.

“I don’t know.” You whispered again, looking up to see if they believed you. Obviously, neither of them did, but Jason was clever and changed the subject.

“So you saw a motorcycle like mine, huh?” He moved closer to you, holding a bottle of tonic water he had taken from the fridge. “Which one was it?”

“I don’t understand motorcycles.” You replied with a discouraged huff.

Jason glanced at Alfred and noticed that he was watching you both the whole time. Knowing him well, Jason realized that Alfred would go after Bruce to understand the story since you obviously didn’t want to tell.

“I was going to take a look at the exhaust on mine. Want to come with me?” He asked, remembering how you enjoyed learning a bit more about how the systems worked when he showed you last week. “I’ll let you get your hands dirty this time.”

“Are you serious?” You asked excitedly, smiling when you saw him shrug, but you quickly widened your eyes as you remembered something: “I can’t, I need to sleep. First day of school.”

Your statement made Jason check his wristwatch, looking at the time. He looked at you as if feeling sorry, saying, “Good luck, squirt.” And he headed to the garage of the Batcave, from which you suspected he had just come.

Alfred was happy that Jason was bonding with you. Knowing the boy's genius, the older man thought he would resist developing some kind of relationship, very different from Dick. But apparently, your nature pleased him since he didn’t shy away from spending time in your presence, like now.

Before midnight, you had already washed your hair and were trying to dry it with a hairdryer, but it was a bit difficult to stretch your arm back. You were clumsy, and usually, your mother did that for you, but after a few minutes, you managed. The problem was that everything got messy, and you wanted to sleep so you wouldn’t be tired the next day, but you had to detangle it or it would be worse. You must have been very focused while trying to fix your hair because you didn’t even notice your father opening the door.

“You’ve got everything ready.” Bruce said, analyzing the clothes on your sofa, with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, having only taken off his jacket. “Excited for the first day of school?” He asked you with a strange tone.

“I think I’m more nervous.” Your response came with a furrowed brow, wondering what the day would be like. You had never been to school before, and it seemed Damian and Tim were really good there, so you felt a bit pressured to at least try not to embarrass them with poor performance.

“I still remember how it was for me.” He continued, watching your uniform with a melancholic gaze, reliving some old memory. Bruce liked how well ironed everything was, and it made him proud to know that you did it all by yourself. “You’ll do fine, trust me. A girl like you won’t have many problems making friends or getting good grades.”

“Alfred helped me choose the shoes.” You pulled out a pair of low-heeled white dress shoes to show him. They were delicate and would certainly stand out against the uniform. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“They are.” Bruce smiled, looking more at you than at the shoes themselves. “Have you eaten?” He asked, concerned.

You grimaced and took a moment to respond, letting out a hesitant “Yes.”

“Did you really eat?” He gave you a disapproving look, not convinced.

“Hot chocolate.” You let out the answer you knew he didn’t want to hear. You ate a bit of everything, including healthy stuff, but your sweet tooth was hard to control.

“You have to eat something besides sweets before bed.” He said, trying not to give in to the remorseful look you gave him. But the feeling of guilt hit him, knowing he should have ensured you had dinner at the restaurant.

“But I already brushed my teeth.” Your mumble made him sigh, searching for words to bring up a topic he wanted to avoid at all costs.

“Sorry... For what happened there.” He took his hands out of his pockets and sat on the bed, extending his arm for you to come to him. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that.” His voice was in an unnatural tone, firm and grave, but your silence notably bothered him.

“S/n.” He called your name, seeing your face look up to meet his. “You can be angry. You don’t have to pretend.”

“Why should I be angry?” Your question was innocent. Although it was disappointing, you didn’t feel angry at him. Besides, before you got to know him for real, Bruce Wayne was already a famous figure. His personal life was constantly in the newspapers.

“I want you to know that back then I was young and stupid.” He ran his hand along your arm as if wanting to offer some kind of comfort. The realization that you could have changed your opinion about him was killing him since you two left there, and he worried about doing something wrong concerning you, as Bruce wanted your trust, and he knew Talia wouldn’t let any mistake slip by before coming back and throwing it in his face. “I’ve changed. Do you understand me?”

“So you wouldn’t do that again?” You asked calmly, and that relieved him.

“No, never again. That was the first and last time.” He placed the hand that was on your arm to gently caress your cheek, suddenly remembering the time. He couldn’t take much more of your time. “There’s something more important I want to talk to you about as well. What Conti said about Miss Zaragoza…”

“It was wrong,” you quickly added, noticing how conflicted he seemed about what had happened.

“And what I said after…” Bruce continued, trying to find the right way to say it, but you spoke up again:

“That was wrong too.” Your soft voice sounded in understanding.

“Smart girl.” He smiled slightly, placing his hand on top of your head. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?” you asked, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

“Can you not mention Miss Conti to Dick?” Bruce continued looking at you attentively, noticing the silly expression on your face. He felt genuinely grateful to see that the incident hadn’t affected your mood towards him. “Your brother doesn’t like her either.” Bruce gave you a light pinch on your side, which made you laugh.

“Alright!” you murmured as you got up, now excited thinking about the day ahead. “No telling Dick.” You emphasized, already pulling the covers up to lie down.

Bruce had also stood up, going to the switch to turn off the light when your voice sounded again: “Can you take me to school tomorrow? Just to the entrance.”

“I will,” he replied calmly. “And no more sweets for the rest of the week. I won’t go easy on you.” Bruce said finally, turning off the switch and carefully closing your bedroom door.

Tag list:

@aenishas

734 notes · View notes

potatoplace · 1 month ago

Text

the 1

Elriel, Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Alternate Endings: Gone | betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: All you had ever wanted to be was plain. And now, as a plain-faced High Fae, you want more. You want your mate.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, self-loathing, suicide

Words: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I'm sorry. (I told you guys I've been having a rough week...) Apparently my brain is saying 'fuck Kinktober!' Even tho like. I WANT to write those... smut just doesn't feel in the cards for me today 😩 so have some tasty tasty angst instead. (I'm also watching an Eras Tour live so I'm hella cheered up now lol)

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Self loathing grew in your gut as you watched your family around you.

All of them were happy, reveling in the togetherness that they shared.

And your mate- your mate- was ignoring you. He was speaking to one of your sisters, absolutely enamored with her. And you couldn’t blame him.

Elain had always been the pretty one of the four of you, a shining diamond even in the filth of poverty.

Nesta was the one with regal beauty, her sharp eyes and the way she carried herself not letting anyone think otherwise.

Your twin, Feyre, was stunning, even if she herself had never seen it, the cleverness in her eyes and quiet grace drawing people’s gaze to her.

And then there was you.

You were… the ugly one. Your mother had said so, even though you were only a child when she passed. Your father had quietly agreed with her. Nesta had mocked your looks when she had had a bad day, which was nearly every day while you had been living in the run down hut after your family lost their fortune. Elain said nothing, but shot pitying looks at you when no suitor asked for a dance while you had still been human, even when it had been a ball thrown in your honor for your birthday. Feyre has been the kindest to you, reminding you that it’s what on the inside that counts…

But that didn’t appear to be so.

Even with a mating bond that you knew should draw Azriel’s attention, his eyes were still glued to Elain. He seemed to be able to breathe only when in her presence, taking in the same air as her.

And in your presence? He couldn’t seem to get away fast enough.

Being dumped into the Cauldron had made both of your sisters even prettier, and Feyre was no exception either after being turned High Fae.

For you, it had made you plain. No longer ugly, unless you counted the still crooked teeth and too small nose and thin mouth.

Just plain.

As a human, you had begged to whatever higher power there was that you could just be plain.

But now that you were, you knew it would never be enough.

Because while Feyre was right, your personality mattered more in a long term relationship than your looks, being pretty drew people in.

Being plain only made you fade into the background.

Azriel laughed at something Elain had said, the sound sending warmth through your body.

It should be you making him laugh, not Elain.

Elain, with her beauty and poise and perfect personality and her ridiculously handsome mate who wanted nothing but her time.

Elain, who seemed to want no one and no thing but your mate.

Your Azriel.

You tore your gaze away from the couple, who you already knew were in a relationship. Elain had confessed it to you a month ago, gushing about how their fifth date had gone and how she thought he was the one. She had told you first, knowing that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

After all, who would you tell?

It’s not like you had any friends in Velaris- or in the human lands, for that matter- and your other two sisters were so preoccupied with their mates and growing personal circles that they hardly had the time to look at you, let alone talk to you.

No. You were alone. You were a lockbox for all of her secrets.

Including that she was planning to officially reject the mating bond once Azriel offered a proposal of marriage.

That had made you sick to your stomach, but you had hidden it deep, deep down in your heart as you congratulated her and faked happiness, asking her when she thought he would propose.

“Any day now, I suspect. Azriel told me that he was planning for the future, and wanted to know if I would like to be a part of it,” she had sighed dreamily. “We just need to tell the family, I know that… Rhys was worried about what us being together would mean for court relations. But he’s just being dramatic, don’t you think?” Her chocolate eyes landed on you, so filled with hope that you couldn’t tell her that he was your mate.

“Yes, he’s just worried, ‘Lain. I’m sure everything will be fine,” you managed to say, and relatively normal at that.

That was last night, and while your eyes had drifted to the carpeting, they shot back upwards at the sound of clinking metal on glass.

Your mate, standing with a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and a knife in his other, had his arm locked with Elain’s.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, his eyes passing over everyone-

But you. His eyes skipped over you, even now, with the bond flaring in your chest.

“Elain and I have something to announce, though Rhys already knows what it is.” You heard a hand slap against an arm, Rhys’s faked moan of pain, and Nesta scolding her mate. Azriel smiled at their antics, such a rarity on his face that your heart skipped several beats, leaving you lightheaded.

It most certainly wasn’t because of what they were announcing.

“Elain and I have been dating for the past two months, and we would like to make it official with you all now. In fact, the two of us will be moving into a cottage in town later in the month, and we would like to invite you all to join us for a housewarming party in two weeks.”

The inner circle broke into cheers around you, Cassian immediately encasing his brother in his arms and clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, brother! I know you’ve waited a long time to find love.”

You remained seated where you were, offering a smile to the happy couple but staying put.

If you stood, you were sure to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

Nesta was the only other person who remained where they were, a skeptical look on her face.

“I hate to be the person to bring the party down…” She started, her voice weary. “But what of your mates? Haven’t you wanted one for your whole life, Azriel? What will happen when you find her?”

“If I find her, I will reject the bond, Nesta. My love for Elain eclipses that of what I thought possible, even with a mating bond. Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister,” Azriel answered, which seemed to be enough to have Nesta’s approval, as she stood and made her way to the couple.

“Then I’m happy for the both of you. But if you ever hurt my sister, you will deal with me,” Nesta warned, ice in her tone.

You didn’t stick around to hear what came next.

Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister.

And of course, he was right. How could you compare to Elain?

She was beautiful, yes, but she was also a perfect match for Azriel. Kind and caring, always ready to help people, not to mention she would be a wonderful mother.

And then there was you. Plain. Boring. Nothing special.

Even the Cauldron hadn’t thought anything of you, leaving you with a High Fae body but no magic to speak of.

You couldn’t even fathom why you had been made Azriel’s mate when Elain was such a wonderful pairing to him, and had the magical abilities to match.

You stumbled your way to the town house, where you had taken up residence once Feyre and Rhys had finished the river house. Once inside you quickly made it to your room and shucked off your clothes after locking the door.

Bare, you stood before the mirror and assessed yourself. It was a habit you had picked up once your family had regained their fortune after Feyre had been stolen away.

One that brought you no comfort, but you needed to do.

Your physique was fine, you had filled out in the past year of being fae.

But there was nothing… special about you. You were medium height. Your chest was a bit smaller than average. Your legs were on the shorter side, making your torso look too long.

And your legs… they were covered in small white scars.

Another habit that you had picked up, this time after turning fae.

And tonight would be no different.

You suppose the one saving grace of being turned fae was your quick healing, letting you destroy your body without anyone knowing.

And no one ever would, seeing as your mate was on his way to being married to your sister.

A sigh left your lips as you turned to your bed, fishing the small blade you kept underneath out from below the mattress.

Tonight would be no different.

Except now you knew that even if you confessed your bond to Azriel, your heart would be torn to shreds no matter what.

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

It was two months later, during Starfall, that your world crumbled further.

You had donned a plain dress in a midnight blue, with long flowing sleeves and reaching your feet. You had opted for flats, seeing as no one would pay you enough attention to notice if you were in heels or not.

No, no one would notice you at all.

Because Azriel had a ring in his pocket.

One that you had given him advice on, to choose something Elain would love.

A glutton for punishment, that’s what you were as you gazed at the beautiful couple, clad in matching blue outfits and beaming at one another.

You had attempted to stay home that night, only for Azriel himself to personally fly you up to the House of Wind, insisting that you needed to be there for Starfall.

You knew he meant their engagement, though.

He hadn’t even glanced your way once last Starfall, so you knew it wasn’t that you would be missed by him.

Still, you stood on one of the balconies, watching them. Waiting for the moment that your life would be forever altered, never to have a great love.

Because truly, your one chance at a great love was a mating bond. You knew that no one would choose you to spend their life with, not when you were so plain and boring with nothing to draw people in, to get to know you.

They were dancing together, so wrapped up in each other that it was painful to watch.

And then your feet were moving, leading you straight to them. You met them right as the song finished, the two of them just inches apart.

It stung.

“Azriel, may I speak to you for a moment?” You asked without realizing the words had left your mouth. “Alone, please? It will just be a moment, I promise.”

You cringed at yourself.

What were you doing?

Azriel glanced down at Elain, who nodded with a smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss to Elain’s lips before following you back into the House, away from the commotion.

“What’s this about, Y/N?” Azriel asked in a clipped tone once you were alone, anxiously glancing back to where you had left Elain.

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Are you really going to tell him?

“Well?” He asked impatiently, his shadows swirling around him.

“I… I’m your mate,” you said, the words rushing out all at once, and your tore your eyes away from his face and to the floor.

“You’re… You’re joking, right?” Azriel asked incredulously.

A dagger of ice to the heart, crafted of your own yearning and longing for him, for your mate.

“No, I… It’s true, Azriel. I am your mate.” Your eyes flicked back up to his face after you said it again, but you wished you hadn’t.

Anything would be better than seeing the horror in his eyes, the disgust twisting his features.

The dagger, forced in further by a hand smacking the hilt.

“You?” Azriel laughed. “Why would the Cauldron make you my mate?”

Twisting, bleeding, shredding your soul apart even as you felt the bond flare to life on his end, the very slightest stumble as he regarded you.

“I… I don’t know…” You whispered, barely audible.

“You’re not my mate,” Azriel said, stepping away from you. “You were never going to be my mate. You’re a fine enough person, sure, but how could you compare to Elain?” He shook his head, snickering to himself. “I suppose these five hundred years of waiting were for nothing. I’ll tell Cassian or Rhys take you back to the town house. Just…” He sighed. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you, it’s me, hmm?”

And with that, the bond between the two of you was shredded, a wounded cry leaving your lips as you sank to the ground, clutching your chest where it used to reside, glowing brightly and giving you a reason to go on.

“I think it’s best for you to stay away from Elain and I. I wouldn’t want you getting territorial and ripping my love’s throat out of anything. Goodbye, Y/N.”

You barely heard him walk away, so overwhelmed with pain.

Why me?

Why was I his mate?

Why didn’t I just drown in the Cauldron?

With a great deal of trying, you managed to hoist yourself back onto your feet, stumbling your way to one of the unoccupied balconies, still clutching your chest.

Your gaping, empty chest.

Because Azriel still had your heart. He had shredded it, mangled it beyond believe but it still resided with him, leaving you with nothing but a hole where it used to be.

Your legs crashed into the edge of the balcony, your hands flying to the stone to steady you.

But it didn’t help, everything was still spinning, blood rushing in your ears as your heart kept beating somehow, somehow still physically intact even as you felt it was being ripped from your chest over and over and over.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t live.

The very fact that Elain was so casual, so blasé about shredding a bond to bits had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your sister.

How could she condemn someone to this existence?

Because already, you weren’t living.

This couldn’t be living.

It couldn’t be.

You risked a peak over the edge, spying the sharp, jagged rocks below.

If you weren’t living now…

Before you could second guess your choice, you lifted yourself onto the balcony, letting your legs dangle for a moment.

Then you swung them over the stone, to the side that had nothing to catch you.

Well, nothing but the cold embrace of death.

Which at this point would be a welcome reprieve from the fiery hot grief flooding through you, grief at the bond that was never given a chance, a moment to be considered.

But perhaps that was all the consideration you needed. To know that you would only have been a burden of mate to the male you had fallen for.

You took one last, jagged breath into your lungs before you slid off the smooth stone, air rushing past you and-

This must be what it feels like to fly.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

#the 1 #Azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #elriel #archeron!reader #az x reader #Az x reader angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar #acotar fic #angst #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #mating bond #tato writes

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little-diable · 5 months ago

Text

I won't share you – James Beaufort (smut)

Y'all voted for this fic, so I hope you'll show it some love. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is Lydia's best friend, but that hasn't stopped her and James from starting their fling–a fling that turns into something more the second his jealousy gets the best of James.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, shower smut, jealousy, best friend's brother

Pairing: James Beaufort x fem!reader (2.6k words)

“I hate this so much, and to think they’re only friends with me because of him.” Lydia kept rambling, words (y/n) barely paid attention to. For the past minutes, Lydia had recited her conversations with other friends, picking up on their crush on her twin brother, James. (Y/n) had tried to show compassion, had tried to tell Lydia that the girls weren’t just around because of James–all while hiding her own secret.

Hours ago she had been pressed against his chest, choking on his name while he buried himself deep inside of her. Her fingernails had left scratch marks on James’ back, barely remembering how they had ended up beneath tangled sheets the first time months ago.

It was a simple deal, they kept fooling around with one another while keeping it a secret from everybody. In the beginning she had felt guilty, knowing that her best friend would detest her for doing this behind her back. But while (y/n) had tried to reason with her guilt, her heart had gained the upper hand, reminding her of the crush she had never been able to shake, ever since they had met years ago. It was pathetic almost, how she crushed on a man who only turned towards her whenever he was in the mood for a quick lay.

“Anyway, you’ll come tonight, right? I need you there especially with this mess going on.” Lydia’s words ripped (y/n) out of her wandering thoughts. For a moment, she pondered over the question, wondering if she wanted to go to another party where she’d cross paths with James who’d find a new girl to flirt with in front of the others. But the pleading gaze Lydia shot her drew a tired sigh from (y/n), forcing her to nod her head.

“Of course I’ll be there, I promise.”

……

She shouldn’t have come. She should have stayed at home where her sheets still smelled of James’ expensive cologne. She should have stayed in her room where her memories allowed her to get lost in another daydream. Anywhere but here would be better for her mind and soul while (y/n) desperately tried to rip her eyes off his frame, away from the unbuttoned shirt that exposed his perfectly chiseled abs.

Lydia had disappeared from her side a while ago, blending in with the others while greeting those she had whined about only hours ago. (Y/n) had tried to hold onto her best friend–though without any luck, forced to part ways as her gaze was glued to James who hadn’t looked at her once so far.

Perhaps she should have left, disappearing without another word to make it back to the safety of her room. But her feet didn’t listen to her mind’s commands, guiding her towards the kitchen to find something strong she could use to silence her racing thoughts.

Music was ringing in her ears, filling her body like a drug that whispered to her, begging her to stay for a little while longer. She sipped on her drink while her eyes wandered around the room filled with people she barely knew, catching the gaze of a guy who was already looking at her. He was handsome, tall enough to stand out, sporting dark hair and bright eyes that surely did their job with wooing girls who crossed paths with him.

(Y/n) could only watch how he pushed past people to find his way towards her, greeting her with a raspy “Hey” she barely picked up on. A soft smile began to widen on her lips as she intently studied him–he was cute, but he was no James Beaufort.

“Wanna go outside? It’s too loud in here.” The guy didn’t wait for her reply. His warm hand found her wrist to gently guide her through the room and outside to the pool area. For a second, (y/n) thought that she had caught James’ gaze, finding the eyes she had last seen as he had fucked her in the early morning hours. But the moment had passed all too quickly, reminding her that James wouldn’t dare to even look at her at a place like this.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?�� She internally cringed at the nickname. With another sip of alcohol to guide the words off her lips, (y/n) tired to give herself a push. Perhaps this is what she needed, a nice enough distraction from the man she should finally let go of. Whatever fate was trying to tell her at that moment, she’d listen and follow the call.

“It’s (y/n), what’s yours? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The guy stepped closer as she spoke, letting his hands rest on her waist almost as if they were dancing to the loud music. She wasn't uncomfortable, and yet she found herself thinking of ways on how to get out of this situation. If there was one thing she wasn’t interested in it was finding another guy who’d use her for his own distraction.

“Mark, a friend of mine brought me here and I must say, I’m quite happy he did so.” Mark shot her a bright smile that left (y/n) chuckling. But the sound got stuck in her throat the second his hand wandered from her waist to her cheek. Fuck, she needed to get away from this guy, no matter how sweet he seemed to be, this wasn’t what she needed.

But (y/n) didn’t get far with overthinking her next move. While Mark slowly tilted his head down to cross the distance between them, (y/n) was yanked out of his touch and pulled back against a broad muscular chest.

“What the fuck man?” Mark’s loud voice managed to break (y/n) out of her dazy state. She had to blink a few times before she allowed her eyes to wander from Mark’s angry features towards an all too familiar face.

“Fuck off.” James spat the words at the guy before he turned (y/n) around in his grasp. It seemed as if he was making sure that she was alright, that she hadn’t been touched against her will. But while she should have focused on all these details, (y/n) could only focus on the fact that this was the first time James was interacting with her in a setting like this.

“What’s your problem? We were just having a nice time, right, (y/n)?” Mark spoke up once again. She felt his hand on her arm, and the second he began to tug on her, she knew that this situation would end in total chaos. And then everything happened all too quickly. One second she was pulled from James’ grasp, the next she found herself losing her balance and falling into the pool.

Her clothes clung to her body as she resurfaced, having to brush her wet hair out of her features before she got a clear sight once again. She didn’t hear the loud words the two guys shared, she could only see how they stood all too close–about to escalate into an ugly fight if nobody intervened. From the corner of her eye, she watched Lydia hastily approach with their friends, instantly forcing a sinking feeling to settle in her stomach.

Slowly, (y/n) swam towards the edge, allowing the sounds to grow more prominent once again. James didn’t seem to spare his sister a single thought as he turned from Mark to focus on (y/n). Their eyes held contact as he reached his hands out for her to take, pulling her out of the pool and back into his chest.

(Y/n) didn’t dare meet her friends' gazes as James guided her past the growing group with his arm wrapped around her waist. No words were shared between them as he guided her towards her car. She kept her eyes glued to his features, the tickling jaw muscles that indicated his anger, the bright pupils that were stormy–a sight that robbed all air from her burning lungs.

James’ hand disappeared in the pocket of her wet jeans to pull her car keys free, wordlessly opening the door for her before he rounded the car and began driving back to her place. She wanted to speak up, wanted to ask him why he had interfered like that, but the anger oozing off him begged (y/n) to stay silent, at least for now.

Darkness lingered in the car as James broke the speed limit, seemingly desperate to make it to her place to speak about whatever had happened. Her heart was racing in her chest, unable to slow down as she relived the past moments, the clear look of jealousy that had swam in his eyes, and the anger that made heat pool between her thighs. She could only hope that the conversation they’d have any moment now could clear some of the confusion she felt.

But even as they arrived at her home did James stay quiet. All he did was guide her inside, wearily almost as if he hadn’t been there numerous times before. She gave him a few moments to finally break the silence, wanting him to be the first to say whatever he was plagued by, but James kept quiet.

“I need to get out of these clothes, I’ll take a quick shower.” He nodded at her words, deep in thought. Her heart was aching for him, wanting to reach out and touch him, but her mind lured her away, whispering to her that he had no right to act like that when he had been the one to keep his distance in public.

Her eyes found her reflection in her bathroom mirror as she stepped out of her wet clothes. The confusion she felt was clear on her face, stretching itself through every part of her. A part of (y/n) had always hoped that he’d finally cross that line and interact with her around others. Something she could cling to with hope simmering if inside of her–hoping that perhaps something could blossom between them, turning them into something more sincere. But now that the lines had begun to blur, (y/n) found herself fearing what was laying ahead of her.

The hot water cascaded down her back as she found shelter in her shower. She didn’t hear James stepping into the room, didn’t hear his clothes dropping to the ground. A soft gasp left (y/n) the second he pressed himself against her back, letting his arms wrap around her from behind. James’ lips kissed the back of her neck, forcing goosebumps to rise on her body even though the water running down their limbs was all too warm by now.

“I’m sorry.” She could tell that it pained him to apologise, knowing that it was one of the many things his father had never taught him. Her hand found his, interlacing their fingers while she silently begged him to keep on speaking, to explain to her why he had escalated like that. “Seeing you with him switched something inside of me, I got so angry at him but mainly at myself. I have been so fucking stupid.”

“Why?” It was nothing more than a whisper, a sound so small, (y/n) feared the water would swallow it wholly. James free hand began to wander down south, he stroked her soft skin, caressing every inch before finding her heat. Her heart picked up its beat, very well understanding what he was planning on doing.

“Because you’re mine and it took me until today to understand it. I won’t share you with anybody else.” His slender fingers circled her pulsing bundle, leaving her gasping while tightening her grip on his hand. James’ warm breath teased the spot where her shoulder met her neck, it felt as if he tried to pull himself even closer, needing to feel every part he intended on owning.

“Do you truly mean it? Because I also don’t want to share you with anybody else.” Her voice trembled, shaking as if she had been chased by him, about to trip over her own two feet. His fingers brushed through her slit, collecting drops of arousal before slowly pushing into her. (Y/n)’s moans filled the bathroom, echoing off the walls that knew their every secret, listening to their whispered conversations whenever they found shelter inside of here.

“I mean it, you’re mine, (y/n).” Without another warning, he pulled his fingers away to turn her around in his grasp. Their lips met for a breathless kiss, drawing gritty sounds from them while allowing their bodies to guide them. Without breaking apart, James lifted her off her feet to pull her legs around his waist with her back pressed against the shower tiles.

“Let me fuck you like you deserved to be fucked, baby.” The world could end, could stop in its rotation and be swallowed by darkness. The stars could fall from the sky and let people escalate into an unstoppable chaos. No matter what was about to happen, he wouldn’t let go of her, would only focus on (y/n) and the love growing between them.

Her moan was all James needed to guide his cock towards her entrance, to disappear deep inside of her like he had done numerous times before. But even though he had fucked her for months now, this moment felt different, more sincere, more loving than anything both had experienced before.

“I love you so much, James.” She sobbed the words against his lips, chasing them for another clashing kiss that could lure her into her end. James Beaufort was her end and her beginning, a love story she had always longed for. He was everything she needed, fulfilling the unspoken longings she had been too scared to admit.

“I love you too, fuck, you’re perfect.” His body met hers with every ferocious thrust, set on pushing them closer together–the first time as a proper couple swearing to stick to one another’s side. The moment had something almost cheesy to it, something so loving they struggled to put it into words.

Her walls fluttered around him, pulling James even closer with her eyes getting lost in his blue ones. It felt as if he kept every secret this world knew hidden in his pupils, harbouring them for whatever reason. She never wanted to stop looking at him, the one who held her heart in his hands as if it was his most prized possession.

With every thrust, he brushed against her swollen spot, making her see black dots in her vision. She was close, would let go all too soon, and yet she didn’t mind it, didn’t mind losing herself to James once again. Their eyes stayed connected as she came around his cock, choking on his name like a prayer leaving her lips.

James gave it more thrusts to chase his high, forehead pressed against hers, arms flexing to tighten their grip on (y/n). She watched him fall apart with a heavy groan and his cum leaving its stain on her walls. A perfect mess neither of them ever wanted to part from.

“You’re mine, never forget that, baby.”

#James Beaufort imagine #James Beaufort smut #Maxton Hall #James Beaufort #James Beaufort x reader #damian hardung

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taintedcigs · 1 year ago

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even if it’s a false god — e.m.

part two; we'd still worship this love

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.

summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)

a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em

“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him.

“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned.

“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.

“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle.

“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned.

“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point.

They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good.

And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy.

He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.

You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time.

He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.

Just like you.

So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.

It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple.

But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.

Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there.

When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could.

You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.

You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl.

It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment.

But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen.

Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect.

“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.

“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible.

“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips.

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.

“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.

“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.

That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?

“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.

“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.

“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.

It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.

But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.

“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.

“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time.

You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.

But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.

He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.

“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now.

“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.

“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.

He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.

He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties.

He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible.

“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged.

“Don’t care, sweetheart.”

“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this.

He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch.

Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying.

He pulled back to look at you.

Sweet Jesus.

His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips.

You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now.

“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you.

Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat.

“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.

“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned.

And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were.

He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”

“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit.

“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.”

You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.

When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him.

You were perfect.

His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.

“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more.

The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.

“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted.

“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you.

“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in.

Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning.

“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away.

No. No. No. No!

“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again.

His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow.

“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good.

You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred.

God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.

“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige.

Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size.

It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.

“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”

You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever.

He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.

He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.

You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.

The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.

And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction.

“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips.

It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.

He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours.

Was it fucked up? Yes.

Did it feel good? Absolutely.

“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.

This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.

You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction.

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless.

You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.”

“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.

And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear.

You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.

Don’t.

You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever.

“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again.

“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly.

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted. “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore.

And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed.

“Shit, feels so good, Eds.”

“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge,

“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his.

Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath.

“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”

“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls.

He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs.

The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.

Was all of it worth it?

The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.

All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.

You were so fucking pathetic.

Jesus Christ.

You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?

As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.

You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.

Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—

“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.

Shit. Just shut the fuck up.

“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.

“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.

“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.

“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.

“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.

“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.

“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.

“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”

“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.

“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.

“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.

“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.

He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.

He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.

He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.

''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.

Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.

“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction

“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.”

“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.

“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.

“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.

He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.

The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem.

“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.

“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.

And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.

There was nothing he could do now.

“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.

Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.

You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fuckboy!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson x reader #fuckboy!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things imagine #eddie munson

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coryndoll · 2 months ago

Text

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: y/n lowkey being difficult because she doesnt want to lie to her best friend, DREW TRYING HIS BEST

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authors note: okay she was a little UGHcore but i just needed a rocky start before things got cute n theyll be communicating soon. guys i promise theyll get better n y/n also wont feel so guilty as time goes on !!!!!

you gaze up at the home through the window of the car. drew is driving beside you, insisting you begin the plan by arriving together to the address leila forwarded to everyone.

“it’s . . . i didn’t think it would look like this,” you say aloud, and drew turns down the volume of the radio after he parks the car out front.

the house is big, surrounded by a few others down the road that look similar to it. the first floor seems like a basement area because the stairs at the front of the house lead all the way up to the second floor and continue two more, standing at four in total.

it’s just a few miles away from town that you and drew were able to drive by and take a look at on the way there. the area is beautiful. no wonder why leila’s mom and her boyfriend stay there.

the front door is open and you spot leila’s head peeking out of the doorway just on time. she disappears for a moment before she’s leaving the house to hurry down the stairs, probably to greet you both. you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car to meet her halfway.

“isn’t it amazing? was it a safe drive from los angeles?” leila asks as you quickly greet her with a hug, before you walk her over to drew’s car. he’s opened the trunk and back doors to retrieve your things. “two weeks here will be nice, huh?”

“oh absolutely,” you agree with her, and you grab your purse from the backseat and drew’s backpack, then shut the door. “is everyone else here?”

“yeah, they just got here an hour ago—gia brought her boyfriend, roman. he’s a little shady but they’re kinda cute. libby’s here too, ooh, and oscar, theo’s childhood friend,” leila says and you can just hear the excitement in her voice that makes you smile.

you hold one of the straps of drew’s backpack and hold it up for him to take it while leila keeps talking. you watch as he eyes it for a moment before looking at you, as if he’s wondering why you don’t want to take it.

the thought doesn’t even cross your mind but it’s fine. he takes his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, then continues to grab the handle of his suitcase and carry it out of the trunk, then yours.

you stand there and wait for him to hand you something to carry but he just keeps his backpack on both shoulders, shuts the trunk, locks the car, and then grasps both suitcase’s handles with either of his hands, ready to head up. there’s a faint smile on his face when he faces you and leila.

“you’re taking them?” you ask, referring to both of your things so you can just bring your purse to the house.

he nods like it’s nothing, “yeah, i got it.”

leila can’t help but awe at you two. “you guys are so adorable. theo and i missed having you both around,” she says as she turns around and heads to the home.

at her words, you peer over your shoulder and send drew a knowing look, but there’s a slight twinge of guilt in both of your expressions that you have to shrug off.

you and drew stand side-by-side as you confront the home, watching as leila walks up the steps and is immediately approached by theo, who hands her a drink.

they share a kiss, and right past them you can just barely spot a few figures that must be the rest of the group. they’re shouting and laughing with one another, leaving you to look at drew again.

he gives you a nudge. “professionals, remember?” he’s referring back to your initial conversation about the plan just two weeks ago.

something about all of this just makes your stomach turn, but you nod. “professionals,” you repeat, and then look at the house again, then you take your step.

you’re carefully settling down on the bed leila’s given you and drew. it’s in a separate room right next to where she and theo will be sleeping. and of course, there’s just one bed.

“i can take the couch tonight if you want,” drew offers as he sets both of your belongings on the side, but he’s talking about sleeping on the small couch on the opposite side of the room to the bed, just against the window.

“it’s just sleeping in a bed, star, it’s nothing we haven’t done before,” you tell him with a shake of your head, and drew’s shoulders drop ever so slightly at the sound of his old nickname, the one that once rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. now, it feels like a small peace offering, a reminder of when things were simpler.

he gives it a few moments to make sure you’re okay with it, before he nods. “okay,” he says.

you check the time on your phone. it’s already eleven in the morning and leila said she wanted to go swimming in the afternoon. you have a whole beach ahead of the house but she insists on using the pool in the back. theo even suggested earlier that he and oscar can grill some lunch.

“i should get ready,” you say as you stand and toss your phone on the bed, then approach your suitcase. there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s leila. “i’ll be out soon, sorry!” you tell her, hoping you’re loud enough for her to hear you from all the music they’re playing out there.

you glance up at drew when you see he’s just standing there. “what are you gonna be doing?” you ask him, then rifle around your clothes for a bikini.

he scratches the back of his head as he settles on the couch, and he shrugs, “might join theo and oscar since they’ve been down there already.”

you only nod as you find a matching set that you’ll decide to wear today. drew is looking around the room, even outside where the views are like paintings on a canvas.

“this place is so nice,” he says, a little too casually, like he’s trying to ease the awkwardness. “lei’s mom really knows how to live it up.”

you don’t respond right away, focusing on your makeup bag that you need to retrieve something in. it’s not that you don’t hear him, you just . . . don’t feel like talking. when you finally do, your voice comes out flatter than intended. “yeah. it’s a nice place.”

tension lingers heavy in the air. you hear drew shift on the couch, probably sensing your mood, but he continues. “kinda reminds me of that trip we took up the coast. remember that little inn with the—”

“i don’t really want to talk about that right now,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you mean it to be. you don’t look at him, you just reapply your perfume as if it’s the most important task in the world.

there’s a pause, and you can feel drew’s gaze on you. “right,” he says quietly, “sorry.”

you exhale, trying to shake off the tension building in your chest. you know it’s not his fault—not entirely. this whole thing was a bad idea from the start, but you agreed. you’re here. and now, you’re stuck with him, in this room, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s the furthest thing from it.

“i . . . didn’t mean to snap,” you say, softer this time. “it’s just, i’m still not completely okay with all of this.”

drew leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “i get that. but we’ve already talked about it. we agreed to do this, and now we’re here. you know that it’s too late to back out.”

you close your suitcase with more force than necessary, finally looking up at him. “yeah, but it wasn’t my idea to lie to my best friend, drew.”

his jaw clenches for a second, and you can see the faint flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he doesn’t lash out. he just nods, “i know it wasn’t. but you’re here. you agreed.”

you purse your lips, frustration building. “yeah. because you asked me to. not because i wanted to.”

he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “i didn’t want to drag you into this if you were gonna be miserable the whole time.”

“i’m not miserable,” you snap, but the lie feels heavy as it leaves your lips. you avoid his gaze, the weight of everything sitting on your shoulders. “i just don’t want to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”

he’s quiet for a moment, the silence thick between you two. “i’m trying, y/n,” drew says finally, his voice low, almost pleading. “i’m trying to make this less . . . awkward, but it feels like no matter what i say, it’s wrong.”

you just fold your arms, staring at the floor. “maybe that’s because it’s not just about this trip. it’s about everything that happened before.”

drew’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t argue. “i know. i just thought that maybe this could be a chance for us to be around each other again. figure things out.”

you raise your eyebrows. “figure what out? there’s nothing left to figure out. we’re not together. and pretending like we are just feels wrong.”

he’s silent for a long moment, staring at you like he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. eventually, he just stands, moving over to the window. “if you want out, y/n, you can tell them the truth. i’m not gonna stop you.”

you swallow hard, not knowing what to say to that. of course, he’s not wrong—you could end this charade whenever you want. but something keeps you from doing it. maybe it’s the fear of letting everyone down. maybe it’s the guilt of seeing leila so happy, thinking everything’s fine between you and drew.

or maybe it’s something deeper—something you’re not ready to admit to yourself yet.

“i’m not gonna ruin leila and theo’s plan,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “i’m sticking to ours.”

you’ve collected your swim suit and a pair of shorts and head for the bathroom. before you close the door behind you, you hear drew’s quiet voice, more resigned than angry now.

“i’m trying, y/n. i wish you’d let me.”

you’ve joined leila downstairs, as she’s planned on preparing other food for todays lunch in the kitchen, so libby, gia, and roman are already there enjoying themselves. they’re mainly just talking, not doing much other than that. leila’s already set everything up for you and her to work on for the next half hour or so.

you greet libby and gia with a small wave, having already said hello to them when you first got there. libby is a publicist in hollywood who met leila while she was filming some indie movie earlier in her career. she was brought in to manage leila’s pr during a press tour and boom—immediate friends.

gia and roman came sometime after. all you know is that leila met gia at a party like you and leila. gia’s incredible in fashion and helped leila with some of her carpet looks. roman’s just this alternative musician who she started dating this year. cute, but a little weird, like leila said.

“so, you and drew starkey?” roman asks as he pops a grape in his mouth, eyeing you. “i thought outerbanks didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“you thought that, and a lot of people still do,” you tell him. leila’s showing you her plan on what to cook while you watch. “he and i like to keep it private.”

“more like a complete secret,” he says, in which gia has to smack his arm to tell him to stop talking. “what? nobody knows.”

“some relationships work better that way,” you say.

“yeah, maybe take a page out of their book and do the same,” libby tells roman, and you see leila smiling at her friends as she works on dicing the vegetables. “there’s a few photos of you two out on the internet. i mean gia, baby, if i were you, i’d keep it a secret. roman’s so blah.”

he shakes his head at her and it makes you smile this time. libby catches it and grins, giving you a nod as she peels her orange.

after eating lunch and playing around in the water for hours, you all finally settle at the firepit, minus gia and roman who insisted they needed to sleep earlier because of their flight in today.

you’re leaning back against the seat, sitting next to leila who’s wrapped up in her blanket. the boys and libby are talking on their own about whatever. you don’t know. you just see drew smiling and constantly leaning forward and laughing, in which you tell him every time to be careful in case he gets too close to the fire.

your focus wavers when you feel his hand casually rest on your thigh. it’s not possessive, but there’s a weight to it. you immediately stiffen, your body instinctively tensing at the sudden contact.

your gaze flicks to his hand, then up to his face. he’s not even looking at you, continuing his conversation, acting as though the gesture is completely natural. it’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. he’s only doing it to make sure no one suspects anything. you know you can’t react—any sign of discomfort would raise questions you don’t want to answer—but it pulls you out of the moment with leila.

you force a small, tight smile and try to refocus, nodding along to whatever leila is saying.

“how have you and drew been?” she asks you, and you suddenly feel that guilt creeping up on you at that moment. that’s a terrible question.

you blink twice, considering your words before speaking, “we’re good, really good. it’s gonna be a little hard when drew leaves to film soon, but you know how it goes.”

she hums. “that’s how theo said he felt like when i was away for white lotus,” she says gently, understanding where you’re coming from.

you smile, but the weight of your lie settles deep in your chest. it’s a weird feeling, pretending to be something you're not, especially when leila’s eyes are so kind, so trusting. you know she means well, but there’s just so much guilt.

leila tilts her head and leans it on the back of the couch, watching you. “it’s tough, isn’t it? balancing everything—work, life, love. theo and i had such a hard time with it at first.”

you nod, keeping your hands busy by fiddling to avoid looking at her. “yeah, it is. i mean, it’s always been a challenge with our schedules.”

leila’s brows furrows slightly. “you two have always seemed like you handle it so well, though. what’s your secret?”

your heart races a little, and you force a chuckle. “i guess we’ve just gotten used to it.”

the words feel hollow, and you wonder if she can sense it. it’s not a complete lie—you and drew had gotten used to it all, but that was before everything fell apart. before the distance between you became more than just physical.

leila catches your eye again, her voice softer. “you two have always been so private. it’s kinda nice, though. you don’t have to deal with all the drama the rest of us go through with the media and stuff.”

you force a laugh, and you can just feel the warmth radiating off your body. “yeah, it has its perks.”

you can’t even look at her. your gaze keeps getting drawn to the fire that leila can just sense the awkwardness, tilting her head a little, and you can see the faintest trace of concern in her expression.

“you okay, y/n? you seem . . . i don’t know. tired?”

“i’m fine,” you say, a little too quickly. you clear your throat, trying to keep your voice steady as you continue. “it’s just . . .” you pause, checking that the others aren’t listening before leaning in to speak quietly, “drew and i, we’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. work and everything. i think it’s just catching up with us.”

leila nods, sympathy in her eyes. “i get it. it’s hard when you don’t get enough time together.” she pauses, looking like she’s considering her next words. “but hey, at least you’re here now. a couple of weeks without any distractions, right? this could be good for you two.”

leila’s gaze shifts to the others where drew is still laughing with theo, libby, and oscar. her voice softens again, and she leans closer to you this time. “it’s just nice to see you both here. i don’t think i’ve even seen him since that last time we all hung out a year ago. it’s been a while.”

your heart drops because she’s right—the last time she saw drew was when you were still together, a year ago.

leila just smiles, “well i’m glad you’re both here. theo and i were saying how we miss having you two around more often. it’s gonna be so fun, just like old times.”

you nod, the guilt wrapping itself tighter around your chest, making it hard to breathe to your own best friend. you manage to force another smile, but it feels brittle, like it could shatter at any second.

just then, drew catches your eye as you and leila continue your conversation. his grin falters for just a second when he sees you, like he knows what’s on your mind. and for a brief moment, you wonder if this whole charade is even worth it.

“yeah . . . just like old times.”

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld

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