#stud-and-friends-asks

[fishys-still-writing-smut]

My Tits are Down Here, Junko to Makoto.

How DARES that pipsqueak to look at her eyes and listen to what she's saying instead of looking at her amazing tits? He needs to be taught a lesson.

Warning: extremely lewd content below

(An additional warning, as this is my first time trying what most consider to be "mind-break")

“What do you say?”

“I-im sorry.”

“Good boy.” Junko was furious. She was going about her day as normal, being the sexiest bitch in the room, until a certain little lucky prick decided to ruin her day. They were just having a normal conversation (about Junko's plans to achieve world domination) when all of a sudden the herbivore began to blush. He got really nervous and started to stutter over his words. When Junko's asked what was wrong, that's when he said it.

“Y-you just have really pretty eyes!”

Eyes?

Her fucking eyes?

She would understand if it was, let's say her massive fuckin tits. Or maybe her dumptruck of an ass. She wouldn't even have judged if he was a thigh or back man. But eyes? When her boobs were always in his face due to the height difference? Immediately enraged, Junko grabbed Makoto by the hoodie and dragged him off to her room. There was only one way to fix this horrible disservice to her sexy tits.

And that was to jerk him off to pictures of her boobs until he came all his goddamn brain cells out.

“Ngggh~.” Makoto moaned as he orgasmed again on another fashion magazine cover. Recently, she decided to start taking more “risque” photoshoots, and they seemed to be exactly the luckster’s fetish. He bit into Junko's neck to surprise his bitchy moans, breathing heavily as he recovered from yet another load being milked out of him by Junko. The fashionista removed her hand from his shaft and began licking her fingers clean, savoring the taste of his cum.

“Now what's your favorite part of me?”

“B-boobs.” Makoto stuttered, struggling to complete a full word. Junko smiled as her new boy toy before giving him a fresh peck on the lips. She was going to have so much fun with him.

—------

“And then I was like, ‘Anal? On a first date?’ but he was like totally convinced that- hey Makoto, you okay?” Sayaka waved her hand in front of her best friend's face.

“O-oh, yeah, totally.” Makoto responded dumbly, not taking his eyes off her chest.

“You sure? You haven't been yourself for the past few days.”

“I-i’m fine. I've just been spending time with m- I mean Junko recently.”

Sayaka's face showed a tiny hint of jealousy, before returning to normal once again. “Okay, so anyways, he was such a massive dick, funny considering…”

Sayaka trailed off continuing her story, and Makoto continued to not listen and stare at her titties. Junko snickered from afar. Perhaps she went a bit overboard with her “fixing” of Makoto? Oh well, if anything, this just made him so much more fun to play with~

[aholotte]

Comparing Twitter and tumblr queer culture is so amusing

Twitter queer culture: reminder that if you’re an mspec lesbian every character from honkai star rail hates you (?)

Tumblr queer culture: does anyone know if we have butch faggot joy tomorrow

[therealmofamorus]

Ask

Alpha stud, fusion maou + childhood friends

What outfit that demon king Jaune love making Ruby and Blake wear while they are in his castle? Does it give focus to their rubooty and bellabooty?

Ruby:

Blake:

You tell me?

[navybrat817]

So, who is throwing the bachelorette party for Smartie? 😏

Natasha and a friend of yours are planning the bachelorette party together, nonnie!

Should Bucky be worried? 😂

Love and thanks! ❤️

[thelewdpokemanik]

Chihiro had a huge butt, round and bouncy. It wasn't nothing to be ashamed of but it carried certain dangers, like having his back blown by a nice, fat cock. That's why he was always careful not to bend over when the manly boys like Mondo or Leon were around.

But he lowered his guard when Makoto was around... Not knowing that the lucky boy had a craving for any phat ass around him.

Chihiro had thought that telling his class that he was actually a boy would protect him. That knowing that the phattest ass in class was a boy's would lessen the amount of leering, that the 'accidental' touches would become rarer, all that.

And technically, it did! Just not nearly as much as he'd have wanted it to.

He still had to stay on his guard, lest he end up accidentally backing up into Mondo, or bending over in front of Hiro, and risk more than just a grope. And he knew it was a risk.

His butt was just so soft, so inviting, even Taka had to actively stop himself from grabbing a handful whenever they hung out. Chihiro had seen what could happen to a boi like him online, whenever curiosity got the better of him in the dark of the night and the privacy of his room.

He'd seen the way bois would break with pleasure, their bodies shaped to take cock and minds useless for anything else. It was a scary and fascinating sight, that never failed to arouse him despite his best efforts.

Thankfully, he'd managed to avoid the worst of it so far, but he wouldn't let success become complacency. He was still taking as little risk as possible, which was why he was once again helping the P.E. teacher put away the equipment, making sure he would only enter the changing room once everyone else had left.

He was walking towards the changing room right now actually, trying to ignore the way his bouncy butt was quaking with every step in his bloomers. He was still wearing the girl's uniform, even after telling his classmates the truth; yes, he trusted them, but he still didn't feel quite ready for *everyone* to know.

And honestly, he quite liked the girls' uniform, even if it did very little to hide all the junk in his trunk.

He blushed at the thought, before shaking his head as he opened the door.

But as he did, he heard a grunting sound, making him pause.

Someone was still there! He shuffled closer until he could peek past the doorway, only for his shoulders to lose their tension when he saw Makoto, still wearing his gym clothes, struggling with his locker.

Makoto was a close friend of his, one of the first people to whom he'd told the truth and the one who'd pushed him to be honest with the rest of their friends.

And all of those things had only been possible because of how, non-threatening Makoto was. Not that Chihiro meant it as an insult or anything! Just that, on the masculine divide between himself and Mondo, well, Makoto was clearly closer to Chihiro's side. 

The lucky student was barely taller than Chihiro himself, leaving them as the two shortest students of Class 78 by quite a lot, not to mention his leaner form. While not as bottom-heavy as Chihiro, he also lacked the muscle mass most of their male classmates had.

And it wasn't a bad thing! It just meant Chihiro was less worried around him, leading to the two short boys becoming fast friends, and the programmer not really seeing Makoto as a threat to be cautious of.

That's why he didn't wait until Makoto left before entering himself, only to have to muffle his giggle when Makoto's locker door finally gave in, smacking the poor boy in the face.

"H-Hey Chihiro…" Makoto hissed, his hands pressed against his face.

"Hello. Your locker got stuck again?" Chihiro asked, approaching his own locker door, which opened without any issue.

Makoto awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "You know how it is…"

Chihiro couldn't entirely stop his smile, though his hand rose demurely to hide it. This was why he liked spending time with Makoto; he didn't have to worry about how he appeared to the luckster.

"You were helping out the teacher again?" Makoto asked, happy to finally peel off his shirt and begin to change.

The programmer blushed slightly at the sight, before turning to his own locker and following Makoto's example.

He let out a sigh as his top came off, leaving his svelte chest out in the air, before leaning on the locker, and awkwardly raising his leg to undo his shoe.

He lost balance for a moment, attracting Makoto's gaze. "Are you alright?"

Chihiro blinked at Makoto, before smiling. He didn't need to go to this extent around him.

"Yes, sorry for worrying you." He said, before bending down at the waist to undo his shoes, his fat ass sticking out behind him like a shelf.

But Makoto didn't register as a threat in Chihiro's mind at all. Makoto was his friend first, a classmate second, and a male a very distant third.

But when Makoto's hand fell on his back like an executioner's blade, Chihiro froze him in place.

"M-Makoto..?" He stuttered, looking back at him over his shoulder, only to squeal quietly when Makoto took another step forward, his crotch pressing against the swell of Chihiro's ass and pushing him forward, making the programmer's hands fly up to lean against the locker in front of him.

He was thankful for the cool metal, especially when he was being assaulted by warmth everywhere else.

His blushing face, Makoto's warm hand, his burning hot, hard as steel, well…

Chihiro gulped as Makoto pressed himself even harder against his butt, giving a small thrust and grinding against his boi booty.

"M-Makoto, wh-what are you doing?" Chihiro asked, trying to ignore how he could feel Makoto throb against him. He couldn't even hope to move, not with the way Makoto's hand seemed to anchor him in place.

"Do you see what you did to me, Chihiro?" Makoto said, his voice easily drowning out the programmer's whine when he ground himself against his butt once more.

Chihiro definitely felt it. It was so big, so hard, it was digging in between his buttcheek and teasing his taint, sending tingles of pleasure up his spine.

He could feel his own erection swelling against his panties, but it paled compared to Makoto's-

Chihiro shook his head, trying to shake off those thoughts. He- He needed to get Makoto off him, b-before something happened, before it was too late-

"Ahn!" Chihiro cried when Makoto's free hand grabbed hold of one of his cheeks and squeezed it pleasu- painfully! Yes, it was pain that was making him moan under Makoto's forceful grip, that left his legs shaky and head fuzzy.

That was why when Makoto let go of the smaller boy, he was too dazed to react, only squealing when the lucky student ripped his shorts and underwear down his legs, leaving his naked rear shaking, until Makoto's hands fell on it in a two-handed clap that bounced off the walls of the changing room.

Chihiro gasped as he spread them apart, before flinching when he felt his breath against his pucker, shivers going up and down his spine.

"Always bouncing around, teasing me with your fat ass. I'm going to make you take responsibility for having this slutty body, Chihiro." Makoto said, and when Chihiro opened his mouth in protest, all that came out was a long drawn-out moan as the lucky student's tongue began exploring Chihiro's depths.

The programmer felt himself be pressed further against the locker as Makoto dove in like a man starving, his tongue digging deeply into Chihiro’s asshole as his hands left his cheeks, instead wrapping around his thick thighs and squeezing them to his chest, allowing Makoto to rim the poor boi even deeper.

Chihiro bit his lip to try and contain his moans, but it was a futile effort as they soon filled the changing room. His cock, so much smaller than Makoto's, was bobbing up and down in the air as his hips twitched and buckled under the lucky student's assault. Not that he could spare a thought towards that.

No, he was much too busy trying to survive Makoto's attention. Too busy trying to keep his wits about him even as sparks kept lighting his brain up in pleasurable fireworks, melting it down into goop until it exploded out of his cock, splattering his thin watery cum to the ground.

Only then did Makoto relent, but Chihiro was barely managing to cling to the lockers in front of him. He couldn't even think of trying to escape, and even if he had, the moment Makoto's cock was freed, he was trapped once more.

The rod had weight to it, nestled as it was between his cheeks, and it throbbed angrily against him. 

Chihiro felt his ring twitch in response as if already trying to lure the beast in.

It was so hot, and when Makoto thrust forward, hotdogging his ass and burying Chihiro's small sack under his full balls, the boi couldn't help but moan and thrust back against him.

He- He couldn't get the pleasure of Makoto's mouth out of his head. It was like a thick fog clouding every one of his thoughts, haunting him. It asked, if Makoto's tongue felt that good, how do you think that cock will make you feel?

It'll kill you, some part of him said. It'll tear you in half and leave you broken.

It'll ruin you, another one insisted. It'll tear you in half and leave you broken.

A husk of who he once was, a slave to pleasure. Exactly what he'd been so desperate to avoid all this time.

That voice made his thighs quiver and his back arc, and when he and Makoto made eye contact over Chihiro's shoulder, it was that second voice that answered him.

"I-I want it~" He half-moaned, his hips bucking under Makoto's length and making him smile.

"Of course you do." He said, before drawing his hips back, and lining up his fat cock with his target. The head of it was pressed against his entrance, which twitched and blinked against him. Until Makoto began moving forward, slow and steady.

Chihiro was panting like a bitch, his whole world narrowing down to the way Makoto's cockhead was slowly stretching his asshole open. He was whining and moaning as the red-hot cock stretched him out oh-so-pleasurably, the foreign sensation making his cock weep thin precum. And the moment his gland breached past his tight ring-

Makoto stopped holding back, and forced his full length inside of him, making Chihiro cry out in mind-boggling ecstasy. He barely had a moment to appreciate the sensation of fullness as Makoto stretched him out before he pulled back out, scraping against his prostate and making him moan lewdly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and dripping drool down his chin.

Then Makoto was like a machine, pistoning in and out of Chihiro mercilessly, chasing his own release and only provoking the Programmer's incidentally as he used him like a sex toy. 

And Chihiro loved it.

He loved Makoto's tight grip on his hips, forcing him to meet the Lucky Student's thrusts. He loved the way his dick was swinging powerlessly under him, shooting out clear cum as his prostate was turned to puree. He loved the sharp sting of pain when Makoto's hips met his clapping ass.

He loved being used by Makoto. And he loved the mind-melting orgasms it gave him.

By the time Makoto reached his own peak, Chihiro could only moan weakly, his cock spurting the last few droplets that hadn't yet been milked out of him. Incomparable to the thick torrent that flooded his insides.

He smiled as he fulfilled his purpose and took the heavy load out of Makoto's balls.

"Phew!" Makoto said, wiping his brow. "I feel better now. Though…" Makoto's cock throbbed inside of Chihiro, making him mewl and shake his hips reflexively.

"I'm still feeling pretty pent-up. You'll help me out, right Chihiro?"

Chihiro smiled weakly, but happily. He'd wasted too much time trying to deny his place in life, and he needed to compensate.

"I-I'd love to~"

[fjordfolk]

about breeding and a bunch of the dogs you like not having any health tests.. wouldn't it be possible to ask the owners to provide the necessary tests before agreeing to breed the dogs? (it doesn't seem unreasonable to want that type of info, but ..?)

This would be super feasible and reasonable and doesnt sound like much of an issue at all, if sheltie people were normal about it

Sheltie people are not normal about it

[tigerpeachs]

An image of depression beating my ass REAL BAD tonight

[jerichomere]

What is your meanest opinion? :0

Hello anon! I don’t like to be mean on the internet, but to put it gently, contemporary nose piercings don’t look good on anyone

[bouvillea]

I don't play genshin but my friend has been putting it on my TL on twit forever so I finally caved and made Aether's earring. I'm having a very limited run of them in my store.

[fishys-still-writing-smut]

So, we all know our dear lucky boy isn't exactly the tallest of students. In fact, his height make it so shameless girls like Junko use his head as a shelf to rest her heavy breasts on. How does he reacts to this?

Warning: lewd content below

"J-junko." Makoto meekly protests the blonde's treatment of him. He wasn't the tallest of students, clocking in at a very unimpressive 5 foot 3 (which he claims is the average height for Japanese boys his age). As such, he's been victim to a multitude of teasing for it. Like being dunked on in basketball games, having his items held above him out of his reach, or being teased by girls for having an abnormally large dick compared to his size. Y'know, average teasing every short boy experiences. However there was always one girl who knew how to go above and beyond with her teasing.

"Yes? Something the matter, shorty?" Junko replied innocently. To most students it would seem like there were normal students just studiying together in the library, but the lucky boy was aware Junko knew just how to push all the right buttons when it came to Makoto's height. She rarely referred to him by his name, normally a degrading nickname. She often decided things by order of height, leaving him dead last ever since Chihiro's growth spurt. She frequently took advantage of the fact he couldn't reach high up places by placing things he needed on the top shelf. And when he stood on a stool to reach them, she pantsed him! Even in front of others! Which always led to very awkward conversations with anyone who sees, or another situation like that one in the rec room. Makoto shudders; he still gets dreams about that night.

"It's uhm." Makoto looks down. "It's what's in my head." Makoto addressed the elephant in the room, Junko's elephant sized jugs resting ontop of his head!

"Oh c'mon short stuff, don't ya realize how much big titties hurt a gals back? Can't I rest them for a second?"

"It's been ten minutes!"

"Aww, so you've been keeping track?" Junko smirked evily as Makoto's face exploded into an cacophony of red. "Fine fine, if you insist tiny, I'll move my boobs."

"T-thank you." Makoto sighed in relief, his face returning to its natural color. That was until he saw where Junko moved her chest too. Instead of on top of his head, it was right in front of it! Makoto's face redened again, this time from begin mere inches away from motorboating Junko. Makoto backed up, but Junko kept pace with him until the lucky student's back was literally against the wall.

"Geez, it's just soooo hoooot." Junko stretched out each vowel as she played with her tie. Then suddenly, her boobs popped out from beneath her bra. "Much better~." All pretences were dropped as Junko's boobs were literally suffocating Makoto, not that the shorter boy seemed to mind. He began shaking his head while in her cleavage, motorboating her massive knockers.

"Good boy~. Now do me one better short stack, and pull out that-"

"AHEM."

Both Makoto and Junko froze in place, both remembering that there was in fact other people within the school library. Watching them. The whole time.

"Meet me in my room in 5?"

"Y-yes please."

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Nature Conservation

Male Crocodile Hybrid Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, no pain, stalking, kidnapping, oviposition, non-human genitals, big slimy reptile dick, fucked senseless, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 550

(Y'all voted for crocodile man so y'all get crocodile man! Not beta read. Please forgive any mistakes.)

Wreck, the crocodile man, was massive. Large even for his species he was over 7ft. tall, and all muscle. His entire body was covered in thick scales, his fingers clawed and his back studded with sharp ridges.

And his long slimy cock, normally tucked away in his genital slit, was currently pounding away relentlessly into your shaking body.

Drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you made a symphony of pleasured noises.

Wreck couldn't be happier. Your tight warmth felt just perfect around his large reptilian cock. You were made for him, he was convinced of it.

When he first saw you he was intrigued and watched you intently. You were a conservationist working to preserve the mangrove habitat that he called home.

Most humans he had to scare off, they came here drunk and got garbage everywhere. But not you. You did the opposite.

But you weren't stupid, you came with a group that you led to stay safe. Dangers lurked in these waters.

You noticed the croc man watching you and feared he may be hunting you. Which was true. He was hunting you. But not for a meal.

It took him a while to coax you into letting him get close to you. But Wreck was persistent.

It started by shouting conversations and curiously asking you questions followed by gratitude for your efforts to clean the environment. Soon he could sit by you and share food with you.

Wreck figured if he brought you some cooked food it would subconsciously make you aware that he was a capable provider. And it would also put you at ease because you could see he wasn't hungry and even had food to spare. So you would know he had no interest in harming a human for a meal.

He integrated himself into your group and helped you all gather garbage. He even posed for photographs that would be used to promote the work the group was doing.

Finally he got you alone. He clasped your mouth shut and dragged you into the water, swimming away with you to his cozy little cave before anyone noticed your absence.

Wreck wasted no time at all in removing your bothersome clothing and sliding his tapered dick right into you. It was so slimy that you didn't need any preparation and there was no pain, just a sudden fullness.

It had all happened so fast that you were stunned by confusion. One moment you were sitting at the water's edge beside Wreck and the next thing you knew you were being bred.

He put one of his hands at your hips and the other on your chest, claws raking carefully against your flesh but not breaking the skin.

You whimpered loudly as he fucked into you, and began moving back against him, desperate to have him even deeper.

His large body molded around yours as you both came hard.

You were panting, starting to realize what had just happened when, much to your surprise, the cock in you deposited a large egg inside you.

The day had started with dreams of cleaning up the environment for the animals and your crocodile friend. And now you were the environment for a crocodile egg.

And if Wreck had his way then this certainly wouldn't be the last one.

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 

“Baby….” 

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.” 

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in! 

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.” 

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[navybrat817]

We know Stud proposed, but what about the bachelorette party? Is it going to drive him crazy wondering what Smartie is up to?

Well, nonnie, Nat and a friend are planning the party. Maybe Bucky should be worried. Maybe he shouldn't be.

Or maybe, just maybe, Bucky will make an appearance.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[felinefractious]

Hi, can I ask what your opinions are regarding the Bengal cat? A relative of mine is looking to get one and I've been researching. I've read thay the're hybrids of a wildcat with a domestic cat, and I saw someone mention that they shouldn't exist at all due to that origin. Is there an "ethical" way to get a Bengal, or is it better to find something else? Thanks in advance!

Your friend is going to want a breeder who only works with SBT Bengals, this stands for Stud Book Tradition and refers to cats that are 4+ generations removed from their most recent wild ancestors.

The Bengal is an established breed with generations of Bengal-to-Bengal breedings, there’s absolutely no reason to perpetuate the introduction of new Leopard Cat blood.

Your friend should avoid breeds that have Asian Leopard Cats/ACL’s, F1’s, 2G/F2’s, 3G/F3’s or Early Generation/EG cats. These cannot be bred of kept ethically, in my opinion.

But when you get into SBT Bengal they are, for all intents and purposes, domestic animals - especially when you get into later generations. They’re just, on average, more work than your standard moggy and many other breeds.

But this can be perfect for someone who works from home, or lives an active lifestyle and is looking for a hiking partner, or has experience with other high energy breeds like Siamese, etc.

So Bengals with recent wild cat heritage are not ethical and cannot be produced ethically but Bengals that are generations removed from their closest wild cat relative certainly can be.

The Bengal is a breed where HCM is a known problem and should be screened for. PRA and PKDef should also be tested for.

I have some general resources on finding a breeder and avoiding scammers in my pinned post.

The Bengal is also a common breed so if your friend was interested in going the adoption route that’s attainable, as long as you actually know what to look for.

I’ll hand you over to the Bengal guru @the-adventures-of-dave to see if she has anything more to add.

[prettyfastcars]

Darkest little paradise | Mob!Lewis

Summary: You and Lewis are childhood best friends. You know him better than anyone, and you’re one of the few people he actually trusts fully. But Lewis has been keeping secrets from you. And when you find out exactly what he's been hiding, nothing is ever the same again. 

Themes: mob!lewis, angst, smut, possessive!lewis, virgin!reader, fluff, slight degrading kink, explicit language, slightly dark!mob!lewis, friends to enemies to lovers ish

Out of all places, he didn’t expect to find you out on your balcony drinking by yourself. 

Lewis had received a phone call from your very worried father earlier, the latter told him that you weren’t picking up any calls, and asked him to check on you to see what was wrong. Your parents were travelling and they were worried about you being alone when they suspected that you were upset. 

Lewis was confused as to why you didn’t reach out to him if you were really upset. Usually you texted him regarding every minor happening throughout the day. 

“Hey, princess,” He called out gently, stepping out onto the penthouse balcony to join you. “Your dad called me, he wanted me to see how you were doing. Everything… alright?”  

Dumb question, he knew. Of course nothing was alright if you were out here drinking alone. You looked like you had been crying too. Puffy red eyes, dried tears on your cheek. It was night time, and the city sparkled below like a shimmery tapestry. Yet you looked devastated, like you couldn’t even bring yourself to admire the citylights. 

The moment you looked up and met Lewis’ eyes, you felt like running into his arms and crying again. Lewis had always been your safe place. You two grew up together. Your families had been friends for decades. Your father and Lewis did business together, both of them powerful, feared, and respected in this city. But to you he was just your best friend. He was there right beside you for everything; school, high school, uni, graduation, vacations, all your good days and bad days, everything. 

But you knew you would feel dizzy if you got up so you remained seated on the lounge chair, sipping on more wine. You were one and a half bottles down. 

When you remained quiet, Lewis walked up to you and stood by the chair just watching you. He could tell you were a bit drunk, but the bottles of wine weren’t his main concern. 

He was more bothered by what you were wearing. 

Your families had been on enough vacations around the world for Lewis to have seen you in all sorts of swimwear. But right now, as you were dressed in nothing but dark red, lacy, see-through lingerie, it felt risqué and intimate. Thankfully you had a satin robe on, though it didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was driving Lewis insane. He had to clench his fists and take a deep breath in order to get his brain to function properly, and not be distracted by the amount of skin that you were showing. 

Did someone, other than him, see you like this? 

“Why are you dressed like that?” He tried his best to keep his displeasure hidden, but if you had been sober enough you would’ve surely caught the bitterness and jealousy in his voice. 

You looked up at him, and sighed. Everything seemed blurry in your drunken state. 

“You look so handsome,” You murmured, then chuckled humorlessly. “Were you out doing scary things while looking insanely good again?” You teased, and sipped on your wine again. He did look good, then again he always did. But right now, dressed in an all black suit, his braids tied into a low ponytail, his chains and rings… “Your nose stud looks extra sparkly tonight.” You commented, hiccuping after. 

Lewis let out a sigh, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you dressed like that? And why are you drinking alone? Did something happen?” He asked. 

That made you tear up again as his questions allowed the hurt to come flooding back in again. After a few seconds of silence, you answered, “I had a date tonight.” 

“What?” Lewis’ blood pumped faster than ever. 

You repeated, sounding more upset than earlier and on the verge of crying. “I had a date tonight.” 

He waited for you to give him more details, unsure of what to say. 

You continued, beginning to slur a little. “We were gonna have a cute date night. I made dinner, I got all dressed up,” You went to take another sip of wine but Lewis snatched your glass from you, and the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t getting that glass back. You sighed and resumed talking, “But he didn’t show up. I texted him, I called, I waited for an hour. Then his text came and he said he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship and what not.” 

“Well, at least he didn’t waste your time.” He said, trying to sound supportive. “If he didn’t like you, then–,” 

You cut him off, “I don’t care about being liked. I wanted him to fuck me.” 

Lewis froze again. His hand around the wine glass tightened to a point where he thought it might shatter but it didn’t. “Is that why you’re wearing that?” 

You rolled your eyes at him dramatically, “What do you think, Lew?” 

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how to react to that. The two of you had been close all these years, but this was new territory. “Let’s get inside.” He said, already walking away expecting you to follow him. 

But you didn’t move. 

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, making Lewis stop and turn around to face you again. Once you met his eyes again, you asked, “Why does this always happen to me?” You sniffled, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough?” 

Lewis sighed and walked over to where you sat. He placed the wine glass down and grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up. He kept an arm around you because he knew you’d be dizzy. “Who said you’re not pretty, princess?” 

You looked at him with teary eyes. “Then why doesn’t anyone want me?” 

He pulled you closer, looking at you with soft eyes. “Maybe he’s an idiot. Maybe he’s–,”

“But it’s not just him.” You sniffled, followed by a sob. “Everyone I’ve ever dated, they…” You hiccuped, “No one ever wants me. Everything feels great on the first dates, but then something always happens and they just… leave. Most of them never even tell me why, they just ghost me.” 

Lewis kept his poker face on as you wrapped your arms around him, finally feeling safe enough in his arms to cry your heart out. You sobbed, not worried about how your nearly naked body pressed up against him. You didn’t know you were driving him mad. 

“I just wanna feel wanted. And desired.” You cried on his shoulder, and he hugged you until your sobs fading into soft sniffles. “I want to experience things too, I deserve it, don’t I?” Lewis’ arms were warm around you, and that was all you needed. “I just wanna feel pretty.” 

“But you are pretty.” Lewis said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.” 

You were quiet for a few moments, then said, “But even you don’t want me.” 

Lewis froze for a moment, then pulled away quickly, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “What’s gotten into you?” 

More tears fell down your face silently, Lewis wiped them away. This was way different than all the times he comforted you. There was a line you were both crossing here and you both knew that. 

“If we weren’t best friends, and if I’d let you–” 

“You’re drunk.” Lewis cut you off. 

But you continued, sniffling. “Would you? Would you want me, Lew? Am I pretty enough for you?” Before Lewis could answer, you grabbed his hand and guided it over to your chest. Another fell down your cheek. 

“Stop.” Lewis warned. 

“Please…” You whispered, placing his hand over the lacy material covering your breast. The warmth of his hand made you shiver. “I’d let you do anything.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. 

Lewis fought himself to remain in control. He could feel your racing heartbeats, your warmth and the softness of your skin. You were upset and hurting, and if he did anything, it would be wrong because clearly you weren’t thinking straight. 

One moment he was looking at you like he was in pain, and the next he pulled his hand away from your chest and wrapped it around your throat instead, making your eyes widen at the sudden rough movement. 

“Stop saying shit like that.” He hissed, in a lowered voice he had never used on you before. He tightened his grip around your neck just enough to have your full attention. “Now get inside, take this fucking outfit off of you and get some sleep.” His dark brown eyes stared into yours. “Stop acting like a needy brat, and do as I say.” 

With that he let go of you, pushing you away carefully. You wiped your tears and basically ran inside your penthouse. 

Lewis stayed out on the spacious balcony for a while longer, mainly to calm himself down but also waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down as well. Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that. 

After a while, Lewis walked back into your penthouse. He went straight into your bedroom and found you sulking in bed. Thank fuck you were not wearing that flimsy lacy thing anymore. It looked like you had had a shower as well. 

He grabbed a cold water bottle from your mini fridge and brought it over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed as he handed it to you after taking the cap off. You accepted it quietly and took a few sips. 

He noticed you were avoiding his eyes. “Talk to me.” He said. He hated it whenever you two fought or argued, which you very rarely did. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally whispered, “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I know. You don’t have to apologise.” He stood up, and said, “Look, I have to fly somewhere for work. I’ll see you back at your father’s house in a few days, okay?” 

Every fortnight Lewis and your dad got together to discuss business, and your families used that as an excuse for a get together each time. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. 

“Hey,” Lewis bent down and tapped you on the nose playfully. “Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep, you need it.” 

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and didn’t leave until you gave him a faint smile back. 

—

Lewis couldn’t get that night out of his head. He was being plagued with what ifs. What if he had taken your offer? What if you two had slept together? Would you have woken up and regretted it? What would have happened if you found out that he was responsible for scaring away every man who ever tried to date you? Would you hate him? Would he lose you? 

No. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend. All he ever wanted was to keep you away from assholes who could never treat you right. One of those assholes being that guy who turned you down that night he found you drinking on the balcony. Lewis was the reason behind that text the guy sent you. 

He hated it, indirectly being the reason behind why you were upset after each failed relationship. 

Which is why he swore to never let you know what he did behind your back each time a man showed even the slightest bit of interest in you. He would never let you know how he stalked them. How he found every dirty secret about them and held it over their heads. How he often had to get physical and anonymously beat them up. How he followed and kept an eye on you from a distance each time you went on a date. 

But he couldn’t tell you the truth, could he? He couldn’t tell you that he was the one who threatened every boyfriend you’d ever had. He could tell you that he told them if they touched you, he would kill them. He couldn’t tell you that he had been doing that since you had your first boyfriend in high school. 

He had lost count of how many times he’d followed the men home and held his gun to their heads until they deleted your number and promised to leave the city. He hated that you got hurt in the process, each time. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? 

After all, you were his. Why should anyone else have you? 

He had waited his entire life for you to see him in that way. For you to realise that he was right there, and that he could treat you right. What sucked the most was that the first time you ever showed interest in him in that way, that night on the balcony, you were not sober at all. Lewis felt like an afterthought. And he hated it. 

But he was a patient man. He had waited years, and he would wait some more if that’s what it took for you to see him in that light. 

—

Your families, as per usual, got together at your father’s mansion for your biweekly lunch. Lunch and business talk were just excuses anyway. All of you just used the time to catch up, cook together, lounge by the pool, play games. And it always, always ended up becoming like a weekend getaway for everyone. 

Lewis looked forward to it, as he always did. Not to discuss business with your father but just to see you. When you were kids you two used to never sleep during these weekends. You’d build forts, and get lost in the hedge maze and play by the pool for hours. As you got older, playtime turned into movie nights. 

But this weekend, something was different. 

“Hi dad, hey Lewis!” You called out, looking happier than usual. Which Lewis found weird because less than a week ago you were drinking alone on your balcony, nursing a broken heart. 

Both men looked up at you, replying to your greeting from where they were sitting in your father’s office. But you breezed past them, disappearing down the hallway faster than Lewis could ask what had you in such a good mood. You were almost skipping. 

He made a mental note to ask you about it over lunch later. 

But he never got to do that since you were completely engrossed in your phone at the lunch table. And everyone kept talking to him and he had to reply to them mindlessly all while his entire attention was on you. Especially since you kept smiling down at your phone. 

A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind. And he hated every single one that had to do with you being involved with another man. He decided he’d confront you about it later. 

–

By the time Lewis managed to get to alone to talk to you, it was already night time. He’d missed dinner because he had important phone calls to take. And by the time he returned back to the dining room, everyone was drunk and you had already left. 

So here he was now, waiting for you in your bedroom. When you were younger, Lewis used to make fun of you for having an all pink room. After all, your father’s mansion was a behemoth, Georgian style mansion, complete with luxurious dark interior, all except your girly pink room. 

So then one day you got tired of his teasing and demanded an all black and gold room. You were fifteen then, and now many years later, the room hadn’t changed one bit. 

Lewis was looking around, noticing everything that hadn’t changed in many years, when you walked in. Still with that big smile on your face. 

“Oh hey Lew, ready for movie night?” You closed the door behind you and began dimming the lights, already searching for the TV remote. “Should we watch a musical?”

Meanwhile Lewis was standing there, in the middle of your room, looking all confused. Finally he asked, “What is going on with you?”

You kept lifting the cushions on the sofas, looking under them to find the remote as you mindlessly asked, “What do you mean?” 

“Stop.” He called out, wanting your attention. “Look at me!” 

That tone of his made you stop. This was the second time he’d used that voice on you now. The first time was that night he found you drinking alone. 

You turned to face him. You were used to this, him standing in your childhood bedroom, wearing nothing but his usual sweatpants, braids untied. Lewis had always been handsome, yet right now as he looked at you with a strange anger in his eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything else. 

“What is it?” You asked, leaning against the sofa for support as Lewis’ eyes stared deep into your soul. He was your best friend, but you had seen the way he worked. You knew why he was so feared and respected. Lewis could be intense sometimes. 

“You just seem…,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Happy. All of a sudden. I mean, I found you heartbroken on your balcony just a few days ago and now you’re basically skipping with joy all over the place.” He said it like it was the most odd thing he’d ever seen. 

“Oh Lewis,” You chuckled. “Maybe I am happy.” You said, moving away from the sofa and stepping closer to him. “I wasn’t gonna sit and let a man decide if he wanted me or not. I thought maybe I should take matters into my own hands and, you know, get out and find what I want on my own.” 

Lewis frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart began racing again. He’d been away these last few days, and he was just now realising that you had barely texted him at all. 

You avoided his eyes with a coy smile and said, “My girlfriends and I went clubbing the other night,” You looked up at him with a mischievous smirk, “And there was this guy, and he seemed really nice, and…” You trailed off, smirking some more, “Well, you know, we kind of hooked up in his car and–,” 

One moment you were talking, and the next Lewis had you pinned to the nearest wall. His tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he leaned in with a murderous look in his eyes. 

“Who the fuck touched you?” He whispered, looking like he was trying really hard to keep his anger contained. “Just give me a name, and I swear I will–,” 

“So it was you.” You cut him off this time, your voice shaky and your eyes beginning to tear up. 

Lewis frowned. 

“This whole time, you’re the one making decisions about my life.” You watched how his face fell when he realised that you figured it out. “You had no right, Lewis.” 

“Yes I did.” He argued, leaning closer. “Now tell me who the fuck touched you?” 

You hated him at that moment. But his scent was familiar, his touch was warm as always. He was still that person who held you each time you crumbled down. He was still your best friend, but you were angry. 

“No one did. I had a theory, I wanted to see if it was true so I lied.” You sighed. “I never went clubbing, I didn’t hook up with anyone.” You explain. “ You know, I always wondered why you never seemed bothered like a true friend would each time I came crying to you about how I got stood up, ignored, or ghosted.” You scoffed, “Turns out it was you who hurt me each time.” You accused. “Why couldn’t you let me be with who I wanted?” 

“No one was ever good enough for you.” He whispered, his face just inches away from yours. 

“That’s not for you to decide, Lewis!” You sniffled, then raised your voice. “I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want to be. I can sleep with whoever I want to–,” 

“No.” He said calmly, like he was stating facts. “You’re mine. They don’t get to touch you.” 

You struggled against him, and he loosened his grip around your neck a little but pressed his body against yours, keeping you trapped between himself and your bedroom wall. “I thought you cared.” You whispered. “Thought you wanted me to be happy.” 

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours, his other hand holding you at your waist. “You will be happy. You’ll be the happiest girl in this world.” He added, gently. “With me.” 

The audacity in his voice pissed you off. You shoved at his chest, managing to only push him an inch or two away. You forgot just how physically strong he was, but you were too angry to care. 

“I decide who I want to be happy with!” You yelled at his face. The mansion was big enough that no one else would hear you two arguing. “You don’t own me like you think you do!” 

Lewis chuckled, in that arrogant way of his, with his nose in the air. “You are mine.” 

“Why? Because you think so?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “What did you do to them anyway? Scare them off? Use them as punching bags? Throw them in your torture dungeons that I pretend don’t exist?” You never thought you’d ever say these words to him, but you didn’t care. He crossed a line. 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe I did worse things, I had to get rid of so many boys I had to get creative.” Lewis gave you a dangerous smile, “You know I would do anything for you.” 

Those words, that voice, it sent shivers down your spine. “Lewis.” You warned, your brain seemed to just realise that this man was more than just your best friend. He was, after all, known for his ruthless ways. 

He smirked, stepping closer to you again. One hand on your waist, the other grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His bare chest pressing against yours, only separated by the thin material of your PJ top. Your breathing got shaky, your brain got foggy. There was an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. It felt tangible the moment he easily shoved his thigh in between your legs. 

“What is it, princess? Now you’re scared of me?” He sounded cocky, and powerful. 

You stared into his big brown eyes. “I hate you.” You said, lying to his face. His handsome face. Flawless, like the rest of him. 

“Why?” Lewis smirked, “Because I kept assholes who would waste your time away from you? I’d say I did my duty as your friend. Isn’t that what friends do? Protect each other? Hmm?” 

You hated how he talked to you in that condescending tone. Mostly you hated how that tone made your body tingle. “I’ll tell my dad what you did.” You realised that only made you sound naïve. 

Lewis chuckled, “He’ll just think you’re throwing one of your bratty fits.” 

“I hate you, Lewis.” You repeated. 

“Oh you do?” He raised an eyebrow at you, mocking you. “I’ll believe you when you stop humping my thigh like that.” 

Your face burned when you realised that you’d been grinding on his thigh without thinking ever since he shoved it in between your legs. You froze and tried to push him away again but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Where are you going?” He said as you struggled against him. “What about this?” He pointed at the damp patch you left behind on his thigh. Your face burned even more as you looked at it. “Won’t you let me take care of that for you? Clearly your pussy is crying for attention.” 

“I don’t want you to touch me.” You didn’t sound convincing at all when you said it. 

That look in his eyes, his soft lips, the familiar scent of his, all that golden skin on display, the tattooed, rough hand holding your face… he was making it hard for you to think straight. And he knew. Judging by that smug look on his face, you could tell he knew. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “I remember perfectly well how just a couple of nights ago you almost begged me to fuck you.” He teased, “You even said you’d let me do anything to you.” He chuckled dangerously, like a villain. “Bet you would’ve even gotten on your knees and begged for me properly if I asked you to. You were that desperate for some cock in you. Do you remember that, princess?” 

His words made you breathless. On one hand he had crossed some boundaries, on the other he was giving you exactly what you craved, making you feel wanted and desired in his own dark, twisted ways. 

When he pressed his body against yours even more, you could feel something hard pressing against your abdomen. You gasped, looking into his eyes which were filled with a kind of hunger you had never seen before. It made you want to clench your thighs together, but with his legs in between yours, you couldn’t. 

“You feel that?” He rolled his hips in a way that made you very aware of his erection. “This is what I had to deal with for years whenever I was around you, always hoping and waiting you’d see that we belong together.” He confessed. 

“Lewis…” You couldn’t recognise your voice, it was so full of desire and need. But then you remembered what he did, and it felt like you sobered up and broke out of whatever trance he had you under. “You hurt me. For years.” 

“I did it for your own good,” He stated. “For us, can’t you see that?” 

“What you did was selfish.” You hissed, you placed your hands on his chest to push him away but the warmth of his skin made you pause. You could feel his heartbeats under your palms and just for a moment, you let your hands wander. Trailing up and down his toned abs, fingers tracing his tattoos. “It was mean,” You whispered bitterly, “Friends don’t treat each other like that.” Your actions didn’t match the way you reprimanded him. 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat. 

“Neither do I.” You retorted. “Not after this bullshit of yours.” 

“You don’t get to push me away like that.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you even harder against him. 

You snapped, “You don’t get to make decisions about my life.” 

You opened your mouth to berate him some more, but he shut you up by pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you rough and hard like he hated you. 

You couldn’t control your hands anymore, you wanted to touch him and feel his warm, muscular body under your fingertips. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up till he cupped your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands until you moaned even louder. 

His touch made you wild, enough for you to bite on his full lower lip until he hissed. Your hands sliding up and down his muscular chest, feeling every hard muscle. Fuck. He felt good. 

Flashes of that night filled your brain again, how you begged him to fuck you. And how he didn’t. A rush of anger took over you. 

“Why do you have to be so fucking moody?” You whispered against his mouth, as you pulled away to catch your breath. “If this is all you wanted then why didn’t you fuck me when I asked you to?” 

He smirked at the sudden dominance in your voice. “You mean when you begged me to?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You snarled. 

Your words made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his pretty, warm brown eyes. How had you missed the way he looked at you all these years? 

“Oh? You’re using your big girl words now.” He taunted, mocking you with that smug smirk of his. “Admit it, you’re angry and you still want me to fuck you.”  

You were about to sass back at him but he grabbed your hand, moving it down his body, mimicking how you made him touch you that night. Lewis made you slide your hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly, holding your stare as he had you wrap your hand around his erected cock. 

You breathed heavily now, lips parted as you looked up at him while instinctively giving him a gentle squeeze. He frowned and groaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever, “Fuck, princess…” 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost forgive all his wrongs right there and then. Lewis let out some more strained moans when you slowly slid your closed fist up and down his cock, feeling it throb and twitch in your hand. You watched his face carefully. How he clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes, how his frown deepened when you explored and teased him with your hand. 

“Lewis…” You didn’t realise you were panting in need as you touched him. 

He opened his eyes and stared into yours. His hand wrapped around your neck again, hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Tell me you want me,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing along your jaw occasionally. “Beg me to fuck you like you did that night.” 

“I begged.” You chuckled this time, squeezing your hand around his cock again, enjoying the sounds he made. “You had the chance, and you didn’t fucking take it. Now, what if I don’t want you anymore?” 

Lewis scoffed and placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like he was hungry for it, biting your already swollen mouth. “Is that so? Shall we check, then?” 

He barely gave you time to think before he dipped his hands down your shorts, into your underwear until he felt the wetness gathering in between your legs. You shivered, moaning into the messy kiss as he moved his fingers around. 

He smirked, pulling away to look at you, holding your stare while his fingers gently inspected your wetness, teasing you, bringing you on the verge of begging for more. “That doesn’t feel like you don’t want me, princess.” 

You hated that mocking tone of his. It made you want to scratch at him like a feral cat. “Fuck you.” You hissed, unable to do much now that his finger threatened to slide deep inside you with how he kept toying with you. 

“Alright,” He pulled his hand away, “Come here then.” 

Lewis pulled you away from the wall and easily pushed you down on your bed, standing at the end of the bed to watch you for a moment. You watched him too. He looked like a fucking god. A muscular, heavily tattooed, handsome god. 

You almost gulped when you noticed he was eyeing you like you were the sacrifice left on his altar. Like he was ready to satiate his hunger. 

“You’re just gonna stare?” You couldn’t help the bratty words from leaving your mouth. Mainly because you knew that would get him moving. Having him just standing there watching you like that was painful because you wanted him so bad. 

Lewis crawled on top of you, grabbed you by the neck and said, “If you want my cock, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?” 

You glared at him, “I fucking hate how bossy you are.” You spat at him, already squirming under him. 

“And I hate how bratty you are.” He said, straddling your waist as he tore your shirt off your body, throwing it behind him. 

With no bra on, you instinctively went to hide your body from him. But Lewis grabbed your hands and pinned it above your head, securing your wrists in his one hand while the other cupped your breast. 

“You don’t have to hide from me, princess.” He whispered, kissing along your exposed neck. “It’s just me.” He playfully nipped at your neck and you moaned and squirmed under him, your brain already malfunctioning at his brief touch. 

“Don’t think that I’ve…” You gasped when he kissed around your ear, “forgiven you.” You whispered, breathless already, with shivers dancing down your spine. 

“Really?” He whispered, kissing his way down your body until he took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. He bit, and sucked on your skin, making your back arch off the bed as you whined in pleasure. “Haven’t you?” 

Your hips moved on their own, in a way they never had before. You were desperate for more, but were too proud to ask for it. Lewis lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. One which made you want to hide your face in embarrassment after it escaped your mouth. 

“No, and I never will…” You muttered under your breath, still whining in pleasure as he played with your body. 

Lewis smirked as his hand reached down in between your legs. He lowered your shorts and underwear until you could easily slide your legs out of them. Your desperation was showing and he couldn’t stop smirking. 

You wanted to slap it off his pretty face. But you didn’t. You watched how he spread your trembling legs apart and settled in between them. You gasped in surprise when he lowered his face down until his mouth was inches away from your clit. 

This was new to you, and it made you a little nervous. 

He could tell. 

“Keep your legs right there for me.” He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more. “Now stay still, don’t move.” He whispered against your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. His warm breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. He looked up at you and smirked when he noticed it. 

You held yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in anticipation. 

“No one else is gonna touch you like this, you hear me?” He leaned down, kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. 

You shivered as you felt his tongue stroking your most sensitive parts. No one had ever even gotten close to touching you there. Lewis made damned sure of that after all. All so he could have all of you. 

“You taste better than I imagined…” Lewis chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” 

He wrapped his big arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your legs, making you whine as he tasted you. 

“Oh fuck, please…” You cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Beg for it.” He whispered against your wet skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “Beg me to make you come.” 

You could feel your wetness trickling out of you, one drop at a time. Of course you had masturbated before but it never felt this good. No toy ever came close to how good his tongue felt slowly fucking in and out of you. 

You tried to grind on his face to make yourself come. But Lewis pulled away smirking each time. 

“Please,” You whined, giving in finally and unable to take his sweet torture anymore. “Lewis…” You pleaded, “Please make me come.” You could feel your legs shaking under his touch. “Please…” 

He almost wanted to tease you for a bit longer, but even he was getting impatient and wanted to fuck you as soon as he could. So he wrapped his arms around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, fucking you with his soft, warm tongue until you were crying out loud, coming all over his mouth. 

You were gasping for air, your body squirming under him as you came. 

“You did so good, princess.” Lewis kissed his way up your body again until he pressed his mouth back on yours, kissing you just as hungrily as before. His braids tickled your face but nothing else had your attention in that moment. Not when his hands rubbed up and down your sides. Not when he lowered down just enough for you to feel his body weight, and feel his clothed erection right in between your legs. 

You had never been this intimate with anyone before, and just feeling his warm skin rubbing against yours had your mind going crazy. You moaned into his mouth, breathless from his kiss as his hand lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his erected cock again. 

You couldn’t help but whine as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. You squirmed under him, seeking more of that feeling. 

Lewis pulled away from the messy kiss and looked down at you, supporting himself above you on one elbow. You had never seen him from this angle before. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, because as angry as you were deep down, he was still your best friend. Still your favourite person in the whole world. 

And yet, he had been secretly hurting you thinking he was doing you good all these years. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down on either side of your face as you gently ran a finger across his perfect eyebrow. Damn him. Everything about him was perfect. 

“I hate you.” Was all you could whisper, feeling too much all at once. Anger. Betrayal. Desire. Need. Satisfaction. 

He smirked, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and applied just enough pressure to make you moan without pushing inside you yet. “You can hate me while you’re being fucked by me, I don’t care.” 

Neither did you. Not when he slowly pushed inside of, stretching you open as he went. Filling you up until you couldn’t think once he was snug inside you. Fuck. It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t look away from him, more tears spilling down your face once he was fully in. 

Out of all the emotion you were feeling, the stab of betrayal hurt the most. After all, your best friend had been lying to you. Comforting you all these years while you felt insecure when he was the reason behind it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked. 

He knew what you were referring to. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He sounded just as breathless as you were. It was hard to hold back from wanting to fuck you like he dreamt of doing all these years. But he didn’t want it to hurt. So he was waiting, waiting for you to adjust to his size. “I couldn’t risk it.”

You moaned as he removed himself entirely, slowly, before pushing back into you. He was trembling with how much he had to hold back. You could tell. For a man of his magnitude, it was a given that being gentle wasn’t necessarily his forte. But he was still trying. 

“You’re so selfish.” You stated, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you slowly, as slow as possible. Letting you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. It was so good it was agonising. 

“No,” He argued, still moving gently. “You know what would be selfish? If I asked your father for your hand in marriage behind your back. He would’ve approved of it, he loves me like a son and everyone knows that.” He kissed the side of your face. “But I gave you a choice, I was waiting for you to choose me. Getting rid of the competition all along was just… fun.” 

“Oh fuck you, Lewis.” You almost bit down on his shoulder when he tried to speed up a little. 

“You’re too tight, baby.” He whispered, kissing your face again. “Open for me. Let me fuck you, come on…” You heard him swear under his breath again, the warmth of his body on top of yours felt so good you never wanted this to end. 

Your heart raced even as you relaxed your body to let him in, to let him fuck you harder until fresh tears fell down your face. 

Lewis kissed your open mouth as you moaned for him, crying out loud each time his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “You’re all fucking mine,” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your throat again, “Is this what you wanted? Hmm? To be fucked like this?” He taunted. “Is this what you were begging for? You feel pretty now, princess?” 

His cocky words made you want to slap him but he felt too good for you to actually do it and risk him stopping. Instead, you carefully lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. 

Lewis leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours while fucking deeper into you. The simple gesture felt too intimate. You were in sync, bodies moving as one, sharing the same breath, hearts racing, you felt connected. 

The more you moaned and whimpered, the more you felt him losing his ability to be gentle. At some point, he gave up completely and just fucked you relentlessly. 

You felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips, your body begging for release. He could feel it too given how you clenched around him. 

“Already about to come for me, princess?” He chuckled, “That was quick.” You didn’t miss the arrogant tone in his voice. 

“Lewis… please.” You moaned, begging. 

“No.” 

His one word felt like it made your world come crumbling down. You cried out when he pulled out, right when you were mere seconds away from coming. 

Even he was surprised at how he was able to hold back from just fucking into you until you were both completely spent from coming too much. 

Lewis leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth. “You tortured me for years, princess.” He whispered against your mouth. “You don’t get to come that easily.” He pulled away and said, “Turn around for me.” 

You moved too slowly for his liking so he had to intervene. He pulled you onto your knees by your hips, shoving your face down into your soft pillow as he shoved his cock inside you again. 

His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen while he fucked into you. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how you clenched around his cock. 

“You feel me in here, princess?” He whispered, “You’re mine now, no one else is gonna touch you. Ever.” 

You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. There was nothing to do but take it, take him deep inside you each time he filled you up. 

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently. It felt dirtier now that you couldn’t see him. He squeezed enough to make you lose your mind.

“Fuck! Please, Lewis….” You cried, your body moving forward and back with each thrust of his. You clenched the blanket under you in your fists tightly, biting down onto the pillow as he quickened his pace. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, his voice deeper now. “Are you going to be mine forever?” 

“Yes…” Your voice sounded muffled. “Yes, please…” 

“Promise?” 

“Oh damn you! Yes!” 

He chuckled, leaning down to press his chest to your back as he fucked into your harder than earlier. “Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.” 

You came undone, hard and fast, moaning as you did. You had never imagined pleasure could be so blinding. Your brain was a foggy mess. You felt like you were floating. 

Lewis came right after you, groaning as he did. 

Both of you collapsed onto your bed, both catching your breaths and trying to calm your racing hearts. You could feel Lewis’s body heat right on top of you. 

Everything was blurry for a while after that. You briefly remember Lewis cleaning you up and placing the covers over you. 

When you came to again, you were laying almost entirely on top of his chest. Your ear right over his heart, which beat steadily now. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back. The room was dark now, all the lights were off. 

You wouldn’t see him but you still moved to look up at him. Or at least you tried to but the soreness in between your legs made you hiss in discomfort. 

“Sorry about that.” Lewis said quietly. You could hear the smug smile he was probably hiding. 

“I still hate you, Lewis. You piece of shit.” You muttered under your breath, placing your head back on his comfy chest. Your fingers traced over his skin, you knew exactly where all his tattoos were so you traced them even in the dark. 

“Sure.” He chuckled this time. “Didn’t sound like you hated me earlier. You screamed so loud I was worried we might have woken up the whole house.” 

Your face burned. You still couldn’t believe you actually did it. You slept with your best friend. It felt unreal. You tried to find that anger again, but it wasn’t there anymore. 

You still had one question. “Did you truly ever consider doing it? What you said earlier?” Your heart skipped a beat or two while you waited for an answer. 

Lewis was quiet for a moment then asked, “What exactly? I said a lot of things.” 

“Ask dad for my hand in marriage. Behind my back.” 

His silence said it all. 

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath again. 

He laughed, tightening his arms around you protectively. “You love me, princess. You would’ve pretended to hate the thought of it. You would’ve thrown a bratty fit. But in the end, you would’ve said yes.” Then he paused and added, “You will say yes when time comes.” 

You hide your face into his chest even in the dark. Your silence said it all too.

[bleedingoptimism]

Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.

He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.

Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.

He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.

🎮🤲💖

Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.

'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.

He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.

He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.

Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.

🎮🤲💖

A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.

He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.

He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.

Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.

The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  

Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.

When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.

But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,

"Steve, what the fuck?"

‘Oh, shit…’

“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,

“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”

He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”

“Please, let me explain-”

“Steve-”

“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”

“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.

“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.

“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,’ he thinks.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.

“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.

They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.

Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.

He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.

A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.

Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’

Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.

Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”

He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.

In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,

“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 

He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.

But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.

It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 

Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.

Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.

“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.

Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.

Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’

Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-

Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 

And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.

Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”

He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”

“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

“Broken?” Steve whispers.

Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.

A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 

𝒻𝒾𝓃

coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕