#the way he takes out his anger and emotions through music

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Dave being brutal with reader while eating her out and fingering her until she squirts🥵

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), squirting, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Music meant a lot to Dave, he always came to you to talk about his bands and his playing, always showing off to you. When he got the Metallica gig he wouldn't shut up about it, and you were the first person he told after they fired him.

He asked if he could stay with you for a bit, you had a good job and an apartment to yourself. It was just one bedroom but Dave was fine on the couch, anything was better than the streets.

You hadn't quite factored in how he'd be feeling -you did to a point, he'd be angry, frustrated, sad, what you didn't think about was how that would be expressed.

You could barely get a word in before he was guiding, more like pushing you to your room. His lips were on yours in an instant, his hands on your hips, leg pushing between yours and grinding you against him.

Your hands went to his shoulders, gently pushing him off. "Davie-Davie, wait, what-what are you doing?" You asked, he was going through a lot and you didn't want to take advantage of him.

He was breathless and panting when he replied, eyes dark and desperate, glassy but he wouldn't let you see him cry if it killed him. "I need a win today." He said. "Please, just-just give me that." You couldn't say you wanted him to stop, Dave was big and hot, it wouldn't be your first time together, he was definitely better than other guys you'd been with.

With no consequences you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down again, his lips crashing against yours once more.

He pulled and tugged at your clothes until they were scattered across the room, leaving you in nothing but your pretty pink panties. They weren't lace or silk, nothing fancy, it was laundry day after all, but Dave had plans.

He planted open mouth kisses on your clothed clit once you were on your back, your hands knotted in his hair, hips bucking up into him. He pushed your panties to the side and pushed a finger into your sopping entrance, easily finding what made your back arch and not hesitated to abuse your hole right out the gate.

He was using you to get out all his anger, all his emotions, he just needed something. He needed a win and you were easy when you were whining and crying just from a few kisses and his fingers.

Two fingers pistoned in and out of you, curling and stretching you out. Your back arched away from the mattress, if you tried to move, to roll over, Dave stopped you with a harsh smack to your ass -or hip, whatever was closer. He'd use his free hand to keep you in place, swatting and slapping, holding you in place while he ruined you.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, flicking it and pulling you closer to the edge. Dave had never done this with you before, never used his hands like this, it was always just straight to fucking because it didn't count unless he got his dick wet.

"Davie! Davie it-it feels weird!" You whined, pulling at his hair to get his attention, all it did was pull a low groan from him that went straight to your clit. Your eyes rolled back, jaw dropping as Dave's name flooded past your lips what must have been a thousand times.

Dave kept fucking you with his fingers as gushes left you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. The sheets were drenched, so was his shirt so when you calmed down he pulled it off and climbed over you.

Your eyes didn't quite focus on him but a tired smile found its way to your face. "There's my pretty baby." He mused, kissing your cheek sweetly. "Now, you're gonna show me every way I can make you do that again and again." He said, voice taking on a much darker tone now. "You don't have work tomorrow do you?"

You gave a small nod. "Five-five till closing." You mumbled, checking the clock on your nightstand.

Dave sucked his teeth. "Oh, well, guess you better hope you can get your legs working before then."

[sleepymarimo]

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!

summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐

luffy

there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.

a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.

like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.

an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.

what's worse? they ran off. with you.

luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.

he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.

then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.

you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.

luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.

an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.

his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.

then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.

your laugh.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his head clears.

he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.

even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.

if you can laugh, then so can he.

finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.

"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"

your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.

"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.

he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"

zoro

after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.

for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.

eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.

he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.

“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.

he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."

"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"

with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.

yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.

instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.

he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...

he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.

your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.

it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.

you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”

“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.

focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.

i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.

so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.

“oi, don’t waste good booze.”

sanji

the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.

he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.

currently, he's on night watch.

a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.

out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.

yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.

he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"

his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.

he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.

"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.

he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."

"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"

you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.

he could almost cry.

"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.

the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.

thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.

his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."

"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."

sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.

he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.

law

it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.

the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.

was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.

so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.

you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.

he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.

when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.

"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"

you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"

"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."

pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.

he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."

oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.

you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."

with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.

your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.

you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.

a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"

"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."

he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.

it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.

in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.

[ghouljams]

Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...

The first time you cry in front of the 141:

The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.

He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.

Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.

"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.

"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.

"I know," he grumps.

"You're mad at me," you sniffle.

"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."

-

The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.

You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.

"Hen, are ya-"

"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."

"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."

"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.

"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."

"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.

"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."

You do neither of those things.

-

The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.

"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."

God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.

He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."

The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.

-

The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?

Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?

It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.

How could he do this to you?

"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."

"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."

"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.

"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.

"You don't know-"

"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."

You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.

He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.

[junhoswifey]

STUCK WITH ME - CHOI SU-BONG (THANOS) / PLAYER 230

a/n: not proofread! read at your own risk!! i wanted to put my own spin on thanos bc everyone makes him so mean and aggressive so i hope i did this justice 🤞🏻🤞🏻

pairing(s): choi su-bong (thanos) x female!reader

warnings: femme reader, ex bf!thanos, language, smut, fingering (r!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, normal squid game gore

summary: what happens when you reunite with your ex who did you dirty in a game where everyone is fighting to survive?

it has been almost a year since you and your ex boyfriend choi su-bong had broken up. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about him practically everyday since then. but the two of you ended things for a reason and you knew you shouldn’t want him in the way you still do but you can’t help it.

su-bong had gotten caught up in some sort of crypto scam and he made you believe it in so much that he even convinced you to pitch your own money into it. of course it didn’t end up working out so that’s how you got where you are today almost 2 million won in debt.

you hated him for dragging you into this but you hated yourself more for trusting him and getting screwed over yet again.

you had been going about a normal day about to head back home for the night when a strange but attractive looking man approached you with an odd looking briefcase by his side. he made a promise to you that if you could beat him in a couple rounds of a silly game he would simply pay you. you were desperate so you played multiple rounds with him until you were fed up with him slapping you for losing. when you finished the man handed you a strange looking business card that you shoved in your pocket until you made it home.

so that’s how you ended up in a room with 455 other strangers. you were awoken by loud music blaring and lights coming on to see your surroundings. you looked down to see you had been changed into a green tracksuit with a small number ‘240’ in the corner of the jacket.

you had sat in your bunk for a while not sure what to do until finally a herd of guards with masks and pink outfits came through the doors. they had explained the rules to everyone and made you line up to go take photos for whatever reason before the first game begun.

“señorita? oh my god! is that really you?” you heard from a distance. you could recognize that voice anywhere. you turned around so fast you were surprise you didn’t get whiplash. there he was just a couple feet away from you, your ex boyfriend, choi su-bong.

you stared in shock as you took him in. he looked the same except he had gotten more tattoos and had freshly purple hair. you couldn’t deny that he looked good even in that ugly green tracksuit.

“what the the hell are you doing here?” you ask looking him up and down. he does the same back to you, “i could ask you the same.” he replied making you roll your eyes.

“well i’m actually here because someone made me lose all my fucking money for a scam.” you said sending him a glare before looking down at the ground. seeing him again after all this time had you feeling all sorts of emotions at once, especially anger.

“oh baby cmon! you’re really still mad about that?” he asked moving closer to you to get a better look. you hesitantly looked back up meeting his eyes once again. “of course I am! do you not understand that you made me go broke? i had to move back in with my parents for fucks sake!”

he just stared at you not knowing what to say next. you took that as an opportunity to get away from him, getting in line to take your photo. you posed for the camera giving a slight smile and throwing up your middle finger. you watched how su-bong practically did the same thing making you remember just how similar the two of you were.

once everyone had finished you were now all walking into a large field that looked like it was outside. the first thing everyone noticed was a giant creepy looking doll on the other side staring back at you.

you heard an automated voice call out to you and explain that you were going to be playing red light, green light. it explained the rules before everyone lined up in front of the starting line. it seemed simple enough. right?

before the game started you all watched how a man with the number ’456’ on his jacket screamed about how if you moved after red light was called you were going to be shot. he had to be crazy right? but his words stuck with you and once the game started and the voice finally called red light you stayed stiller than you ever have before.

everything seemed to be going just fine for a while as the man was guiding everyone and telling us when to go and stop. that was until the woman standing right next to you had a bee land on her neck. you heard her scream and before you could even process what was happening she had been shot, just like the man at the beginning had said.

when the voice called out green light yet again you stayed in your spot too taken aback to even move. you heard su-bong yell out to you, “hey you have to keep going. stay behind me.” so you did just that staying close behind him till you both reached the end.

once the game had concluded you found yourself back in the same bed from before laying down and staring at the ceiling. you had so many thoughts running through your mind. you knew you shouldn’t have come here in the first place. you knew there had to be some sort of catch, and now your life was all the line just to win some fucking money.

you heard footsteps approaching but you didn’t have to look to know who it was. “hey babe. you alright?” you looked over at su-bong wanting to ignore him but instead you sat up and faced him.

“don’t call me that su-bong.” you replied bluntly as you felt his gaze on you. he put his hands up in defense before sitting down next to you. “please stick next to me in here, i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to you and i didn’t help.” you heard him say.

it made you smile a little. despite how much you hated his ass you knew deep down he still and always would care for you. he noticed this and it made him smile too. “also i would really like if you called me thanos.”

you scoffed and looked at him with a shocked face realizing that’s why he had the purple hair and colored nails. “you’re serious..? that’s the dumbest fucking rapper name i’ve ever heard.”

he laughed at your response noticing how you did a little too. “oh come on you know you love it.” you just stared at him not really knowing what to say but you honestly loved how he always came up with dumb shit like that and it suited him perfectly.

you two sat there for a while trying to catch up before you were interrupted by the guards once again. they had come in to congratulate the players who were still alive and said we would be holding a vote to stay or leave and split the money that had been accumulated so far.

you watched as the others voted one by one and when it was finally your turn you pressed the red ‘x’ with no hesitation. you watched thanos go shortly after you and to your surprise he had voted to stay. you watched him walk to the other side sighing as he smiled like it was no big deal.

as the voting was nearing an end you were sure you were going to make it out of there until the final voter, player ’001’ had pressed the blue ‘o.’

you stood there in disbelief for a minute before heading back to your bunk not wanting to be apart of the arguments that were already starting. you noticed thanos following close behind and you felt him grab your wrist.

you stared at him and his hand lingered on your arm not wanting to let go. “why did you do that?” you asked gesturing to the blue patch on his jacket. he looked at with an almost hurt expression. “oh come on baby you know i need the money. you do too. if we work through this together we can get that shit and get out of here safely.”

you just rolled your eyes at him trying to explain how putting your lives at risk wasn’t worth it but he didn’t seem to care. instead he pulled you to the bathrooms before you could stop him.

he pulled the two of you into the women’s restroom making you confused. “what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled trying to get out of his grip but he held on stronger.

“baby.. i’ve missed you so fucking much. i hate myself everyday for what i did to you and i know you do too. will you please work through this with me? we only have to do one more game and i promise i will make it up to you when we get that money and get out of here.” you heard him confess.

you wanted to scream at him for what he said. you wanted to tell him no and that he was wrong and you knew he was lying. but you didn’t. no, you couldn’t. instead you found yourself moving closer to him and before you knew it your lips were meeting his for the first time in almost a year.

the feeling made both of you let out soft moans and when you felt him move his hands lower onto your back you couldn’t help the noise that slipped out of you.

you pulled away for a second, your forehead still touching his and looking him in the eyes. “please don’t make me regret this. i want to trust you.” you whispered as he stared at you.

“i promise sweetheart. i want to make it up to you and i want to make you the happiest girl in the world. i will never stop feeling that way.” his words made the two of you smile before your lips met once again.

before you knew it the kiss was becoming more intense and full of need. thanos decided to pull you into a stall just incase someone had decided to walk in on the two of you.

you giggled as you felt him pick you up as if it was nothing. your lips never left his as he pushed you up against the door while holding you. “god i’ve missed this..” he whispered into your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“me too su-bong.” you let out as you felt him start to place kisses down your neck. this made you tilt your head back allowing him more access as you ran your fingers through his purple locks.

“can i take this off?” he asked holding onto your jacket while looking up at you. you nodded quickly and he practically ripped off your jacket as well as the t-shirt underneath.

you moaned softly as he placed kisses to your chest before ripping off your bra as well. he cupped one of your tits in his hand before placing his mouth around the other one.

“please don’t tease me baby.” you whispered which made him only suck harder on your nipple. you could already feel how wet you were becoming as you saw him smirk at your words.

“just wanna take my time with you sweets.” he said before trailing kisses down your stomach. when he got to the waistband of your pants he slipped them off in a matter of seconds leaving you in just your underwear.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” he moaned as he took in the sight of you that was in front of him. you smiled at him before removing his own shirt and pants so you were now both in the same position. your mouth practically dropped at how good he looked and he couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction.

he removed his boxers before removing your own underwear leaving the two of you naked. it had been so long since you saw each other like this and it made the both of you blush slightly.

he moved closer and placed your lips together yet again. the feeling of your tits pressed up against his bare chest made the two of you moan, aching for more. you felt his hand trail down to your already soaking wet pussy and he stuck a finger in without warning making you moan again.

he kept his eyes on yours as he watched your reaction to his fingers. before you knew it he was adding another before moving his mouth to your tits again. the pleasure was staring to become overwhelming as it had been too long since someone had you like this.

your moans became louder and you knew if anyone walked into the bathroom they would know exactly what was going on. but to be honest, you didn’t care. you yelled out as you felt him pick up his speed encouraging you to cum on his fingers.

you did just that making him smirk at you again before he picked you up once more. he held a firm grip on your sides letting you know he wasn’t going to drop you.

“i love you so much su-bong.. i’m sorry for leaving.” you admitted to him looking into his eyes. “don’t apologize my girl. you had every right to do what you did. i was so shitty to you but i really hope you can forgive me. i just want to move forward with you and give you what you deserve. i love you.” he confessed.

you kissed him again this time a little more aggressive not wanting this moment to end. he held you tight and you could feel his erection against your stomach making you feel even wetter than before. “i need you baby…” you moaned out while looking up at him.

he wasted no time lining his cock up with your entrance. you both moaned before he pushed his length inside of you causing you to throw your head back. he held onto you as he trusted himself up into you never letting go once.

“fuck! you feel so good baby.” he moaned into your ear, resting his head on your shoulder. your nails met his back scratching lightly as he thrusted into you over and over again.

“faster thanos please!” you yelled out wanting more of him. he did what you said thrusting into you even quicker. he would be lying if he said you calling him his nickname didn’t turn on even more. he absolutely loved the effect you had on him.

the speed of his thrusts and the sounds of his soft whimpers in your ear was enough to send you over the edge. you were close and you knew he was too.

“‘m so close baby.” he whispered slamming into you even harder than before.

he wrapped a hand around your throat knowing how much it turned you on. you moaned louder than before at the feeling and you knew you were done for. “i’m gonna cum!” you yelled feeling your orgasm getting closer.

“that’s it baby let it out, cum all over my cock.” he said causing you to do just that. not long after he was releasing inside of you painting your insides white with one last thrust into you.

he pulled out of you before cleaning the two of you up carefully. when the two of you were dressed again you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “what?” he asked looking at you confused. “i can’t believe we just did that here.” you replied smiling big at him causing him to do the same.

“i’d do that with you anywhere!” he said causing you to lightly smack him on the arm. you rolled your eyes before giving him another quick kiss. “i love you.” he said.

“i love you too su-bong.” you replied as you felt him kiss your forehead before opening the stall door for the two of you. he grabbed your hand before heading back to the others. little did you know what was coming your way.

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ thank you for reading all the way through <3 so excited to be posting my first thanos fic!! i want to write for more squid game characters so pls send me requests if you have any!!! i love y’all 💝💝

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[cherryblossom-heart]

Responsibilities (6.5/8)

bestfriend!Nanami x Reader

What happened at the birthday party?

Content warning: ANGST, Toji Fushiguro is his own warning, Kento having something with an unknown female character.

A/N: I am soooo sorry for this angst but is necesary so we understand everything that happened at the party. Don't worry, part 7 will be fully smau and its coming soon. If this is the first you see of this series please go to the previous parts to catch on. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this. Also if I missed anyone in the taglist let me know 😊

Word count: 3.2 K

<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>

“Shot, shot, shot.”

A small smile spread across Kento’s lips, his eyes focused on your display. Glass after glass, you emptied all six of them in front of you with a grin on your face. The small group of people that surrounded you cheered, the echo of their acclamations competing with the bass of the tacky house party playlist Gojo had put on.

Nanami stayed by the sidelines as always, never a fan of crowds or even reunions like this one. But every rule has an exception and to Nanami’s life you were the exception for everything.

He hadn’t noticed when it had begun. Maybe it had been when you were kids, your hand covered in dirt touching his clean and polished one to drag him out to play with the other kids. Or in your teenage years, your fingers entwined with his as you dragged him to another house party he hadn’t intended to go. Perhaps it was in college when he let you sleep at his place when you had been assigned a roommate from hell and every now and then you would end up falling asleep on his shoulder as you tried to finish whatever assignments you had.

The truth was, no matter how much he tried to explain it, there wasn’t an exact logic to his actions. He hated parties but he enjoyed going with you, your carefree dancing always igniting something deep in his chest. He hated loud music, but he loved the way your eyes would close as you sang to the top of your lungs as he drove you around.

He hated immature personalities, Gojo’s antics only being tolerable for minutes. And yet he found himself amused by your quips and shenanigans you would drag him along with, his heart beating out of his chest as the mischievous grin you wore tore his defenses away.

Nanami couldn’t say when everything had begun, but he knew exactly when he first noticed it. The harsh, undeserving words that had drifted you apart for weeks had been enough of a wakeup call, the pain in his chest had left him in a panic at the moment. Once you had given him a second chance his lungs could finally take a deep breath, free from the strange constriction your apathy gave him.

He had tried getting you out of his head to the point he had downloaded a few dating apps hoping he could find someone else to occupy his thoughts. The second he had matched with someone his fingers quickly deleted the app leaving him with the realization he tried to avoid.

He was in love.

No, it was more than that. Your name was carved in his heart, his soul belonging to the set of bright eyes that laughed at his dry humor as if he was the funniest man on earth. It belonged to the smile that would always welcome him whenever he entered a room or the soft fingers that would run through his hair as his head laid on top of your lap

Nanami had never been a man to believe in soulmates, but if fate would have it and they turned out to be true he believed you were his. And not even then he could explain the extent of his emotions, the crushing weight of his love for you could simply not be measured.

Loving your best friends carried its consequences as Nanami would find out sooner than later.

Green eyes and a scar had become an instant sign of anger for him. The broad, tall, muscular man always carried his characteristic smirk, a trait that also bothered Kento to his bones. But perhaps the thing that he hated the most was the way his hands would wander along your body, fingers always finding a patch of uncovered skin where he could trace senseless figures. Your lack of a negative reaction was enough to tick him off.

He saw it the night he had ended up intoxicated and crashing at your place, the almost too insignificant glint in your eyes as you looked at the blacked haired man. Your smile was almost as bright as the one you always wore when you talked to him.

Kento hated the pit that formed in the bottom of his stomach every time you would mention him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Beautiful, Kento’s mind recited as his eyes met yours

Your breath was raggedy, beads of sweat trailing down your cheeks. Your makeup was no longer intact, a couple of smudges trailed down your eyes, mascara specs darkening your eyes. The lipstick shade you wore was almost gone, a faint tone left behind.

“Keep your penny, it’s nothing too interesting.” Nanami’s answer came as you scooted over next to him, his right arm surrounding your frame.

“I highly doubt that. Everything about you is interesting, Nanamin.”

Kento’s breath got kicked out of his lungs. How was it possible for you to make him feel this way without even trying?

Were you aware of the effect your words, your soft touch, your sweet glances had on him?

Were you aware of his love for you?

“I believe I owe you a dance.” You extended your hand gesturing for him to take it.

“If I remember correctly, you owe me as many as I want.” Kento said, fingers entwining with yours.

You smiled, a bright beautiful smile that made his world stop.

“Well, let me start paying my debts.”

Minutes later Kento found himself in the middle of Gojo’s house, surrounded by the same crowd he had been trying to avoid as he held your body against his. You had guided him through the crowd of people, several of them stopping you along the way to congratulate you on your birthday. You would acknowledge them, perhaps exchanging a couple of words with them along the way, but your attention remained on him, your hand squeezing his every now and then to make sure he was alright.

Your hips moved to the rhythm of the music, the tune belonging to a song he hadn’t heard before, your arms were up in the air, fingers dancing along the air as if somehow you were making the most beautiful painting with them. Watching you dance was like staring at a work of art, every little movement you made was a sight to be seen.

Nanami’s body wasn’t sure how to move, his feet didn’t seem to want to follow the beat of the music, his arms felt uncomfortable as he tried to move them around. His body had begun to tense up the more he analyzed his own movements. You must’ve noticed it as well as you had stopped your movements only to get closer to him, your hand finding his again.

Cold fingeres reached to caress his face, carefully putting back in place a strand of his hair out of place. With a tenderness so foreign to him yet so familiar when it came to you, your hand cupped his cheek.

You looked at him and suddenly everything was alright.

“Relax, Kento. Just grab my hand and follow the music.”

Nanami’s left hand held onto yours while the right one fell on your waist, pushing you against his chest. If someone else would’ve seen, you two it wouldn’t have made sense to them. You two weren’t following the music, your pace not even close to what the rest of the people around were dancing to. Yet it didn’t matter, it was as if a bubble had appeared, separating you from the rest. Kento and you were following music that no one else around could hear, your head falling to his chest as the song changed.

For a moment, Nanami felt braver than ever. Maybe it was the intimacy of the moment what fueled him as he was convinced you had never looked at someone else the way you looked at him. Or maybe it was the fact that, as he pushed you closer to him, the more you seemed to nestle on his chest having caught you smelling his favorite cologne that you had gifted him.

Whatever it was, it made Kento brave enough to make you look at him. The hand that held onto yours lifted your chin, his touch leaving goose bumps on your skin. He stared into your eyes, for the first time not being shy of appreciating your beauty. Your eyes held galaxies of thoughts and emotions, and he was more than happy to explore all of them.

“Thank you for this, Ken.”

Ken.

A nickname he hated but he loved the rare times you’d say it.

He wanted you to say it forever.

“Don’t thank me, it’s the least you deserve.”

Your arms surrounded his neck.

“Be careful, Ken or I might start thinking you like me.”

Your name left his lips in a whisper, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. He was surprised when he found you doing the same, your eyes lingering longer on his lips.

“Kento…” you whispered, inches away from his lips. “I— “

“Happy birthday, party girl!”

Gojo’s words rumbled across the room, bringing attention to you. Nanami’s hands fell to his side as you jumped away from him looking like a deer caught in headlights. Satoru made his way to you along with Shoko and a cake he wasn’t sure was enough for everyone in the room.

Nanami made a mental note on researching what the easiest way was to get rid of a 6’3 body.

The crowd pushed you away from him, guiding you to the table where Satoru had placed the cake. You tried talking to them, your eyes searching for his in the sea of people. When you finally found him, Nanami just gave you a small smile and a nod, gesturing you to enjoy your celebration.

You mouthed a small “I’m sorry” to him as you turned your attention to the cake.

Kento let out a sigh as he made his way back to the kitchen bar, leaning against it. A gigantic sparkling candle decorated the middle of the cake making your eyes open wide in surprise. The tune of Happy Birthday started playing, everyone around joining in the celebration making you cover your face in embarrassment.

Adorable.

“How long have you been in love with her?” A deep voice asked next to him.

Kento looked at the green-eyed man that had silently slithered his way next to him.  Fushiguro carried a solo red cup in his hand, his face still carrying that same awful smirk that irked Kento. Toji’s eyes were focused on you, but Nanami could tell his attention was on him, expecting a response.

“I– “

“Don’t try to lie, it’s written all over your face.”

Kento sighed, he was right. There was no point in lying, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it, not to him. Not before he could tell you.

“It’s none of your business.”

Fushiguro laughed as he took another sip from his drink

“It is when you’re trying to get with my girl.”

The flames of anger began rising in Kento’s chest, a bitter taste settling in the back of his tongue.

“I believe she isn’t aware she is ‘your girl’.” He quipped. “I don’t think she wants the title, or else she wouldn’t keep insisting your relationship is casual.”

Toji’s grip tightened around his cup, the sides of it cracking slightly at the pressure. Now it was Nanami’s turn to sport that idiotic smirk.

“Well, you certainly got me there.” Fushiguro conceded. “But it has to hurt still, doesn’t it?”

“You– “

“I mean, you guys have known each other for how long? Over fifteen years and nothing has ever happened. Not a single kiss, nothing even close. I’ve known her for less than two months and I’ve already fucked her all over her apartment.”

Nanami could count with a single hand the number of times he had restored to violence; the last time he had gotten into a petty fistfight being when he was still in high school. Afterwards he would compose himself and regret his actions, embarrassed of such a public display of his anger.

None of those times Nanami had ever felt such rage, the only thing holding him back being your birthday celebration. As much as he hated the man, he would hate it even more to ruin the night for you.

“You should learn to keep your mouth shut about her private life.”

Toji snorted. “What? You’re going to play the “best friend” role again? Come in your white horse and defend her honor? Try to woo her with your gifts and hope she fucks you?”

“Better than playing the role of a man with two kids who can’t seem to find a stable relationship at his age or keep himself out of jail. Are you trying to get her to play the stepmother role as well?”

“Well, it seems that’s what gets her going, isn’t it?”

Finally, the two men faced each other, both scrutinizing each other under their gaze. Kento knew as much anger as he held inside, he could see his feelings reflected on the other man. He couldn’t blame him, any man would be lucky to get your attention, let alone a man like him.

The crowd cheering drifted away the men’s attention, your wide smile as you blew out the candles reminded Kento the reason why he was there, the flames of anger beginning to dwell as the warmth of his chest expanded through his body. He had already wasted enough time with Fushiguro.

“I don’t intend to ‘steal your girl’ Fushiguro, I cannot steal something that isn’t yours to own. She’s grown enough to know what she wants and that’s not for us to decide. Whether it is you or whoever else she is with I will always respect her choices.” Kento looked back at the man next to him, his eyes darkening with his last words. “But I will tell you that if you hurt her, I’ll make sure your stay at prison will feel like a spa visit, do I make myself clear?”

A moment went by without an answer and Kento thought the conversation was over, but as it is with a man with Toji’s personality, he always had to have the last word.

“Understood, boss.” He crashed his cup in his hands, throwing it away in the can behind the kitchen bar. “You know, I asked her once if anything had happened between you two. I mean, I had to make sure you weren’t an ex or something, especially with all the gifts and how close you guys are. You know what she said?” Kento didn’t give an answer, knowing well he was going to talk anyways. “She laughed. You should’ve seen her, it was as if I had asked the funniest question ever. I swear I saw tears in her eyes.” He chuckled. “She said there wasn’t and there never would be anything between you. That you were like the brother she didn’t have and dating you would almost feel incestuous.”

Toji’s attention went back to you, as everyone started to clear off from you as they got a slice of cake. His hand brushed his hair in place as he passed in front of Kento. “I think you have more of a shot with her.” He nodded to a girl Nanami hadn’t noticed before, her gaze turning as his hazel eyes connected with hers. Toji patted him in the shoulder before he left, not before getting his last lick. “I’d take it if I were you champ, it’s not like she’s going to care if you sleep around with other people.”

The green-eyed man made his way to you, his hand falling to your hips as he brought you in for a kiss.

For the first time in his life, Nanami felt his heart breaking. The longer your kiss lasted the more he felt a wave of unknown emotions drowning him, tearing every part of his heart that you ignited.

Fushiguro might’ve been a bastard, but he was right. There was never a time you had looked at him in any other way other than a best friend, let alone a romantic partner. He was an idiot for thinking your words meant anything, that your flirting was anything more than friendly, as it was you had always been a flirtations person. He wasn’t especial.

In an attempt of self-preservation for what remained of his heart he took a shot of vodka, hoping the burn would be enough to make him forget for a little while. He looked around the room, looking for anything that could help him, an easy way of distracting. That’s when he saw her again, the unknown girl he had never seen before.

Nanami didn’t remember how he had gotten himself in a bedroom in Gojo’s house, or when he had taken his shirt off as a girl whose name couldn’t even remember straddled him. He didn’t remember how her lips tasted or the tone of her voice as she had introduced herself to him. He couldn’t even remember the color of the girls’ eyes as she kissed him.

Her hands traveled along his body until they found his crotch making his head roll back. He allowed his hands to explore the girl’s body, slowing cupping her ass as she tried to undo his pants. This situation should’ve brought him some comfort, the sensations of every kiss, every touch should’ve been enough to help him in some capacity. Yet the only thing on his mind was you and the guilt building up in the back of his throat.

Everything about this felt wrong and he couldn’t explain why until he opened his eyes and the person in front of him wasn’t you.

Every time he kissed her, he pictured your lips, soft and delicate against his. Every time he touched her, he pictured your tender skin against his expecting the smell of your body wash to linger on his nose, instead a foreign scent invaded his nostrils. He expected to hear your voice with every pant of his name, but the unfamiliarity of the girl’s tone made his muscles tense up. This wasn’t what he wanted, he couldn’t fool himself into do it.

Then, the unthinkable happened—the very thing he had feared all along.

The light and commotion from the hallway caught his attention as he realized someone had opened the door. He pulled himself apart from the girl, moving his face to the side so he could see the uninvited guest. He only had a second to react before you shut the door with a slam, it’s echo filling the room.

He pushed her away, not caring for pleasantries as he scrambled to get his things together. He could hear the girls angry tone complaining, undoubtedly labeling him as an asshole. None of it mattered though. Not when he had seen the pain in your eyes as you saw the scene in front of you.

When he finally found his phone, he saw the plethora of messages you had sent him, all of them relating your trial until you finally found him. Before he could start typing, two new messages popped up.

Oh

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.

Vile rose to his throat as he pleaded you to come back.

It’s ok Nanami, I’ll catch you later.

Have fun

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Taglist

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[aeralux]

"Easy Going Down" - Jacaerys Velaryon

Modern!Jacaerys x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: Jacaerys and you have never gotten along very well ever since his mom and your dad got together. However, you both tolerate one another, staying out of each other's way. But this night, Jace has had enough of your defiant attitude, lashing out at you. Obviously, you decide to pay him back.

Warnings: SMUT; nasty and filthy language; dub!con (they both want it tbh); stepcest; both are mean to each other; masturbation; oral (m!receiving); degradation; name calling; rough sex; breeding kink lowk (he cums inside); fluffy ending; taboo relationship; reader admits to sleeping around; drugging? (reader uses Viagra on Jace, as payback);

Words: 11.7k

Notes: English is not my first language. This is hella 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (regarding the language used). They are not blood-related in this story. No descriptions of Reader and no use of (y/n). If you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings, please do NOT read it. Thank you.

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Jacaerys sits engaged in his studies in his room. Still, the constant pop music blaring from his stepsister's room soon distracts him. The loud tunes echo in the hallway, quickly becoming a source of frustration. He feels his aggravation bubbling inside him as he struggles to concentrate on his assignment.

"Why does she always have to blast that ridiculous music?" he says to himself, gritting his teeth. His patience is wearing thin, and he can no longer disregard the noise that seems intentionally designed to irritate him. Taking a deep breath to calm his rising anger, Jacaerys stands up and heads toward the door.

Walking to your room, he reflects on how much you frustrate him. "Why is she even awake? I still don’t understand why she needs to be so loud. Can’t she be a little more considerate?" The mix of irritation and anger boils within him as he approaches her door.

He knocks, but the music continues to drown out everything else. "Just fantastic," he mutters to himself, and at that moment, he realizes that his patience has completely evaporated. Jacaerys flings the door open, bracing himself to demand that she lower the volume. Still, he’s hit with a wave of anger that makes the whole predicament even worse. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for a confrontation.

"Hey, turn that music down," he demands. He lacks the composure to simply ask, and in that instant, his emotions take charge. Jacaerys is fully prepared for an argument, knowing that this encounter won't go smoothly.

You were dancing in your room, clad in your baby blue panties and a loose white tee. The music was blasting, the beat thumping through your veins as you moved to the rhythm. It had been a long, tiring day, and you just needed to let loose, to forget about everything.

Your hair swayed with each twist and turn of your body as you lost yourself in the beats of Black Eyed Peas, a classic. You finally felt somewhat better, like the cool, carefree girl everyone sees you as. Nothing else mattered except the music and the feeling of the air against your skin.

Suddenly, your 'party' was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. You didn't need to look to know it was Jace. He always had a knack for ruining your fun. But you didn't let it phase you. Instead, you turned up the volume, your grin turning wicked as you faced him.

You continued to dance, lipsyncing the words with exaggerated passion, putting on a show just to annoy him. His face contorted with anger, his brows furrowing. You had to bite back a laugh as he got angrier while you just kept twirling around like an exotic dancer.

"What? Not used to actually good music?"

Jacaerys stands in the doorway, his eyes wide as he takes in the sight before him. His stepsister is dancing in nothing but her underwear, your body moving sensually to the music. He feels a wave of anger wash over him, mixed with a hint of something else... something he doesn't want to acknowledge.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouts over the music, his voice dripping with contempt. "You can't just blast your shitty music at all hours of the night!"

He takes a step into the room, his eyes never leaving your body. He tries to look away, trying to focus on the anger bubbling up inside him, but he can't help but stare. Your curves are mesmerizing, your skin glowing in the dim light of her bedroom.

"And put some fucking clothes on!" he adds, his voice rising. "You look like a cheap whore!"

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth, but he can't take them back. He knows they're cruel, but he's too angry to care. He hates you, hates how you have invaded his life, his home. And now you're dancing around half-naked, taunting him with your body.

"Don't you know I'm trying to study?" he shouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you have any idea how annoying you are?"

He's breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest, he can't seem to look away from you, can't stop watching you move. Jace clenches his fists, trying to ignore the way your breasts are visible through the light-coloured tee and the way your panties hug your hips.

You stop dancing and glare at him, your lips pursed together. You abruptly shut off the music, the sudden silence deafening.

"Get out!" You yell, furious at his degrading words. You know you pissed him off, but he's never called you names like that before. What's gotten into him?

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your state of undress. But you refuse to let him see that he's gotten under your skin. You keep your chin raised defiantly, meeting his angry gaze head-on.

"You're the one who barged in here unannounced," you snap. "Maybe if you knocked first, you wouldn't have seen anything. But apparently, you just can't help yourself when it comes to invading my privacy."

You turn away from him in disgust, not wanting to look at him anymore. Your heart is pounding and you feel your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. You can't believe he said those things to you. He's never been so cruel before.

Jacaerys feels a pang of guilt as he sees the hurt in your eyes, but he quickly pushes it down. You're the enemy, the intruder in his life. He can't let himself feel sorry for you.

"Oh, so it's my fault now?" he scoffs, taking another step into the room. "I'm the one who can't help myself? You're the one who's always prancing around half-naked, just begging for attention."

He reaches out and grabs your arm, turning you to face him. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin and can smell the sweet scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating, and he hates himself for noticing.

"Listen, you little bitch," he sneers, his face inches from yours. "I'm in charge here, not you. You don't get to do whatever you want, whenever you want. There are rules in this house, and you're going to start following them."

He can see the rage in your eyes, the way you grit your teeth. But he doesn't let go. He wants to show you who's boss, wants to make you submit to him.

"Now put some fucking clothes on and stay out of my way," he growls, giving your arm a rough shake. "And if I hear that music again, there will be consequences."

Jacaerys' grip is rough as he grabs your arm, and you can feel his nails digging into your skin. You grit your teeth, trying to suppress the wince of pain. His closeness is suffocating, his hot breath on your face making you light-headed.

"Get. Out." You spit the words at him, ripping your arm free. The movement leaves angry red marks on your skin, a physical reminder of his bruising hold.

In the past, you would have run straight to Dad. His presence loomed large, always ready to swoop in and protect you. But not this time. The air between you is different now, charged with a new dynamic since his relationship with Jace's mother. No, Dad won't interfere this time.

You are on your own.

Something stirs inside you. A spark of anger, of determination. You won't let him bully you, won't let him treat you like you're nothing just because it's his house.

A smirk plays at the corners of your mouth as a plan takes shape in your mind. Oh, you'll make him pay for this. You'll make him regret ever laying a hand on you.

"Now," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. "Get out of my room before I scream. And if you ever touch me again, I will cut your dick off and fuck your face with it."

You watch as he hesitates, his eyes flashing with rage and something else, something you can't quite place. But he backs down, turning and storming out of the room.

You slam the door behind him, leaning against it heavily. Your heart races and your breaths come in short gasps. This isn't over. Not by a long shot. But for now, you've made your stand. And you will get the better of him.

Jace storms out of your room, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang that echoes through the hallway. His hands are shaking, his heart racing. He can still feel the heat of your skin under his fingers, and can still smell the intoxicating aroma of your perfume.

"Fuck!" he shouts, punching the wall in frustration. Pain shoots through his hand, but he barely notices. All he can think about is you - your defiance, your attitude, your goddamn body.

He knows he shouldn't have touched you, knows he crossed a line. But he couldn't help himself. You were just so... there, so tempting. And he hates himself for it.

Jace takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He can't let you get to him like this, can't let you see that you have any kind of power over him. He's the one in charge, not you.

But even as he tells himself this, he knows it's not true. You have a hold over him, a power he can't quite explain. And it terrifies him.

He stalks back to his room, slamming the door behind him. He needs to clear his head and focus on something else—anything else.

But as he sits down at his desk, trying to force himself to concentrate on his homework, all he can think about is you. The way you looked at him, the way you smelled, the way your skin felt under his fingers.

He groans in frustration, burying his face in his hands. This is going to be a long night.

Jace slammed the door and before you could think, you were screaming, hurling the nearest object you could grab - your half-empty water glass - right at the wooden barrier separating you. It shatters on impact, scattering shards across the floor.

You pant heavily, your vision swimming with a red haze of fury. Those red marks on your arm are a throbbing reminder of his cruelty. How dare he lay a finger on you, how dare he treat you like you're just some nuisance to be dealt with.

Cursing under your breath, you go to clean up the pieces of glass, hissing as a few sharp slivers embed themselves in your fingertips. It hurts, but you grit your teeth and keep sweeping.

Tomorrow, you vow to yourself. Tomorrow, he's gonna learn not to underestimate you. And there's no one to stop you this time. No dad to intervene, no mom to play peacemaker, and no Lucerys to come to his defence.

Just you. And you know exactly how to make him pay. That smug, cocky expression on his face will be wiped right off when you're through with him. He'll be begging for mercy.

A wicked smile curls your lips as you imagine all the ways you can make Jace suffer. Oh, it's gonna be so satisfying to bring him to his knees. He'll regret the day he ever laid a hand on you.

Jace hears the crash of glass, followed by your muffled screaming. He knows you're angry, knows he pushed you too far. But he can't bring himself to care. All he can think about is the feel of your skin. It's driving him crazy.

He paces his room, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He hates you, but he can't deny the attraction he feels. It's eating him alive, consuming every thought. He's never felt this way before, never been so torn between lust and disdain.

Jace stops in front of his mirror, staring at his reflection. He looks like shit - his hair is a mess, his eyes are wild. He looks like he's losing his mind. And maybe he is. Because all he can think about is you, touching you, claiming you as his own.

He slams his fist against the wall, feeling the sting of pain in his knuckles. But it's not enough. Nothing is enough to quench this fire burning inside him. He needs you, needs to overpower you, needs to take you like an animal and make you into an obedient bunny.

Jace strips off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. He's been working out like crazy lately, trying to blow off steam. But it's not working. Nothing is working. Except the thought of you, naked and helpless under him.

He reaches down, palming himself through his shorts. He's already hard, already aching for release. But he knows it won't be enough. Nothing will be enough until he has you.

Jace collapses onto his bed, his body tense with need. He wants to hate you, wants to push you away. But he can't. All he can do is lie here, imagining all the ways he's going to make you his.

His cock is hard and aching, straining against the confines of his boxers. He reaches down, stroking himself slowly, imagining it's your hand on him instead of his own.

Jace groans, his hips thrusting up into his hand as he imagines you touching him. In his mind, you're naked and wet, your body pressed against his, your lips trailing kisses down his chest.

"Fuck," he moans, his name for you falling from his lips like a prayer. He's always tried to resist you, always tried to push you away. But now, he can't fight it any longer. He needs you, needs to feel you, needs to claim you as his own.

He thinks about barging into your room again, pinning you against the wall, tearing your clothes off with his bare hands. He wants to touch you, to taste you, to make you scream his name in pleasure and pain.

Jace speeds up his strokes, his cock throbbing in his hand. He's close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he'll explode, will paint his chest with his seed like a fucking teenage boy.

"Oh, yes, fuck," he pants, his eyes rolling back in his head as he imagines you riding him, your tits bouncing in his face. He wants to grab them, to suck on your nipples until you're begging for more.

With a final groan, Jace comes, his cock pulsing in his hand as he shoots his load all over his stomach. He lies there for a moment, catching his breath, his body still tingling with pleasure.

Unable to drift off, you pop a melatonin and collapse onto the bed, giddy with anticipation for tomorrow. You just have to act normal and bide your time patiently. With your mind foggy from the drowsiness, you struggle to recall clever quotes about patience. Ah well, you'll just have to exercise some restraint until the moment is right. Tomorrow, Jace will get a taste of his own medicine.

The next morning, Jace wakes up feeling groggy and exhausted. He can still feel the ache in his cock, the memory of his fantasy still fresh in his mind. He rolls over, burying his face in his pillow to muffle a groan.

He knows he shouldn't have done that, knows he shouldn't be thinking about you that way. But he can't help it. You're always on his mind, always tempting him, always challenging him.

Jace gets out of bed, and heads to the bathroom to shower. As he strips off his clothes, he catches sight of the cum stains on his boxers from last night. He feels a sense of shame washes over him, followed by a surge of anger.

"Fuck," he mutters, balling up the underwear and throwing it in the hamper. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

He turns on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his body. But even as he scrubs himself clean, he can't shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He imagines you in the shower with him, your hands sliding over his slick skin, your lips on his neck.

Jace groans, his cock stiffening again. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around it, stroking it slowly. He thinks about you, about how you'll look when he finally breaks you when he makes you submit to him completely.

He's close, so fucking close, when he hears a knock at the bathroom door.

"Jace, hurry up!" his brother Lucerys calls out. "We're leaving!"

Jace curses under his breath, releasing his cock reluctantly. He finishes his shower quickly, towelling off in a hurry. As he heads to his room to get dressed, getting ready to bid his brother and parents goodbye, he wonders what kind of shit you'll pull today.

You head downstairs as well, your heart fluttering with excitement as you watch your family leave for their weekend trip. You give them each a quick hug, your smile a little too bright, your eyes a little too eager. They say their goodbyes, reminding Jace and you to study hard for your upcoming finals.

You turn to Jace, who's engrossed in conversation with Lucerys. You seize your chance. Slipping into the kitchen, you retrieve the Viagra pill you'd tucked away in your pocket earlier. Your hands shake slightly as you open the capsule, pouring the powdered contents into Jace's glass of coffee. You stir it smoothly, erasing any trace of your tampering.

A wicked smile plays across your lips as you picture what will happen next. Jace, oblivious, will gulp down his spiked drink, blissfully unaware of the chemical coursing through his veins. And when the effects hit, oh, how delicious his suffering will be. The smug boy finally brought low by his own lust, enslaved by a desire he can't control.

Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for drugging him without consent, but your desire for revenge overshadows it.

Jace finishes his breakfast, gulping down the last of his coffee. As he starts to work on his History paper, he feels a strange sensation wash over him, a tingling warmth spreading through his body. He stands up, heading to the sink to rinse his cup.

But as he walks, he feels a sudden tightness in his groin. He looks down, shocked to see his cock hardening in his pants. What the fuck? He hasn't even seen you yet, and he's already hard? He can barely walk, his legs trembling with the effort of holding back his orgasm.

"Fuck," he groans, pressing his thighs together. His cock is rock hard, throbbing painfully against his zipper. He can feel it pulsing, almost like a heartbeat.

He stumbles back to the sofa, sitting down heavily. He can feel his heart racing, his skin flushed with heat. He knows he shouldn't be feeling this way, knows he should be focused on anything but you. But he can't help it. All he can think about is you, about your body, about fucking you until you scream.

Jace shifts in his seat, trying to adjust himself discreetly. But it's no use. His cock is throbbing, aching for release. He looks around, making sure you are nowhere near.

"Fuck," he mutters, reaching down to palm himself through his jeans. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, and knows he should stop before he loses control. But he can't. He needs to cum, needs to relieve the pressure building inside him. Jace is a mess. His cock is leaking steadily, soaking through his boxers and making a damp spot on his jeans. 

He slides his hand into his pants, pulling his cock out and wrapping his hand around it. He's so hard it hurts, so fucking horny he can barely think straight. He starts stroking himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound.

Jace's mind is filled with thoughts of you, of your body, of your touch. He imagines you walking in on him like this, seeing the shock in your eyes as you realize what he's doing. He pictures you dropping to your knees, taking his cock in your mouth like a good little slut.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, his hips thrusting up into his hand. He's so close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he'll explode.

You crouch behind the wall on the staircase, eyeing Jace through the gap. There he is, the always arrogant Jacaerys, pumping himself like a horny teenager. You can't help but smirk, feeling a thrill at seeing him so undone. But you can't ignore the dampening between your legs at the sight of his toned arm wrapped around his thick shaft...No! You shake your head. 

You need to stick to the plan.

You stride into the living room, calling out in mock shock, "Ew! Seriously?!" You point accusingly at his hard leaking cock in his fist. "So I'm a 'cheap whore' for dancing in my room, but you can just whip it out and whack off anywhere?!"

You lay into him mercilessly, your voice dripping with disdain. "What are you, some kind of sick pervert? Jerking off where your innocent step-sister could walk in on you? God, you're disgusting!"

You know you shouldn't take such delight in humiliating him, but you can't help the wicked satisfaction curling within you as you watch his face flush with shame and anger. He looks like a scolded child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Get your act together, Jace," you scold, your voice laced with faux-concern. "This isn't appropriate behaviour."

Jace's eyes widen in shock as he hears your voice, his heart pounding. He's caught, exposed, his worst nightmare come true. He scrambles to cover himself, his face burning with shame and anger.

"Get out!" he shouts, his voice cracking with embarrassment. "Get the fuck out of here!"

But you don't move, just stand there with that smug look on your face. He can see the evil glint in your eyes, the way you're looking at him like he's some kind of pervert.

"Fuck you," he spits, his cock still throbbing painfully in his hand. "This is none of your business."

But even as he says it, he knows it's a lie. Everything about him is your business now, whether he likes it or not. You're in his life, in his head, in his fucking cock. And he hates it, hates you, hates everything about this situation.

He looks down at his crotch, seeing the wet spot on his toned stomach, the sticky strands of precum leaking from his tip. He feels like a fucking animal, like a dog in heat. And you're standing there, watching him, judging him.

"Get out," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Get the fuck out of here before I lose my temper."

But even as he says it, he knows it's a hollow threat. He's too weak, too desperate.

Jace's hand is still wrapped around his dick, his fingers slick with pre-cum. He can feel it dripping down his shaft, making a sticky mess of his boxers. He's so fucking hard it hurts, so desperate to cum that he can barely think straight.

"Just leave me alone," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Or I'll make you leave."

You bite your lip, looking at his aching cock, making a mess all over himself. "Aww..." you coo, pouting your pink lips. "Look at you, you're so horny, you can't even think straight. Your cock is leaking all over you."

You tease him with faux regard, your eyes gleaming with amusement. "What a mess you are, Jace. You really need to learn some self-control."

Jace glares at you, his eyes narrowing with anger and embarrassment. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, the shame burning through his body. He knows he looks pathetic, and knows that you're enjoying every second of his humiliation.

"Shut up," he snarls, his hand tightening around his cock. "Just shut the fuck up."

But even as he says it, he can't tear his eyes away from you. You're so fucking beautiful, so perfect in every way. And you're staring at him like he's some kind of freak, some kind of pervert.

He wants to hate you, wants to push you away, wants to make you suffer for what you've done to him. But he can't. All he can do is stare at you, his heart pounding in his chest, his cock throbbing in his hand.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, his voice low and vicious. "I bet you love this, don't you? Love seeing me like this, all pathetic and desperate."

His hand is moving faster now, stroking his cock with frantic, needy movements. He's so close, so fucking close to exploding. He just needs a little more, just a little more friction.

"I bet you're getting wet right now," he growls, his eyes locked on yours. "I bet you're picturing me fucking you, aren't you? Fucking you like the dirty whore you are."

He's not thinking straight, not thinking at all. All he can focus on is you, your body, your touch. He needs you, needs to dominate you, needs to make you submit to him completely.

"Come here," he demands, his voice rough with desire. "Get on your fucking knees and suck my cock like a good little slut."

He knows it's a mistake, knows he shouldn't be saying this. But he can't help it. The drug is clouding his mind, making him say and do things he never would normally do.

"Do it," he commands, his voice harsh and demanding. "Get over here and put that pretty little mouth to work."

Your breath catches in your throat as Jace's filthy words wash over you. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, your panties growing damp with arousal. You never expected this, never thought he would affect you like this.

"N-no," you stammer, your voice trembling. You press your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache building in your core. You shouldn't want this, shouldn't want him. But you do, so badly.

You can feel your nipples hardening beneath your shirt. You know you should leave, should get away from him before it's too late. But you can't seem to make your feet move.

You can feel your juices trickling down your thighs, your panties clinging to your slick folds. You're so wet, so desperate for his touch. You know you should be disgusted by your desires, but you can't be. Not when Jace is looking at you like that, his eyes dark with lust and hunger.

Jace's eyes are burning with desire, his gaze raking over your body like he wants to devour you whole. He can see the way your nipples are hardening beneath your shirt, the way your breasts are swelling with need. He knows you're turned on, knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Fuck," he growls, his hand speeding up on his cock. "You're so fucking hot. I bet you're dripping wet right now, aren't you? Bet you're aching for my cock."

He spreads his legs wider, giving you a clear view of his throbbing cock. It's swollen and red, the tip dripping with pre-cum. He knows it would feel so good inside your tight pussy, stretching you, filling you, claiming you.

He takes a step towards you, his hips thrusting into his hand. His cock is throbbing, dripping with pre-cum.

"Get on your knees and worship me," he demands, his eyes burning into yours. "Show me how much you want it. Show me how much you need my cock."

He knows it's immoral, knows he shouldn't be saying these things. But he can't stop, can't control himself. The medication is making him wild, making him say and do things he never would before.

He knows it's a challenge, and knows that you won't be able to resist. He can see the way your eyes are locked on his cock, the way your tongue is darting out to wet your lips.

"Come and get it," he taunts, his voice thick with desire. "Come and show me how much you want to be my little cock sleeve."

"Do it," he demands, his eyes boring into yours. "Get on your knees and suck my fucking cock."

He's moving closer now, his cock bobbing obscenely in front of him. He can smell your arousal and can see the way your body is shaking with need.

"Fucking. Do. It," he snarls, his hand tightening around his shaft. "Or I'll fucking make you."

He's so close, so fucking close to losing control completely. If you don't obey him, if you don't give him what he needs, he might just snap. Might just grab you and take what he wants, consequences be damned.

He's going to make you submit to him, make you his own personal fuck toy. He's going to use you, abuse you, make you beg for his cock.

"Now," he snarls, his hand tightening around his shaft. "Before I lose my fucking patience."

You take a small step back, shaking your head as if to clear it. "No, Jace... this is wrong," you say, trying to sound firm even as your body betrays you. Fuck, why does he have to be so hot? Every fibre of your being is screaming at you to drop to your knees and worship that massive cock.

The sight of Jace stroking himself, his eyes dark with lust, is enough to make your head spin. You want him so badly, want to feel that thick shaft stretching your throat, fucking your face until you're gagging and drooling all over yourself.

But you can't. You won't. No matter how much your body craves it, you know this is wrong. He's your stepbrother, for fuck's sake. You can't do this, can't cross this line.

You take another step back, your heart pounding in your chest. You were so close to giving in, so close to letting all of your inhibitions melt away.

"Jace, please," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't do this. It's not right." Trying to sound commanding, but it sounds like a pathetic whimper.

Jace's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching with anger. He can't believe you're rejecting him, can't believe you're turning him down after everything his family has done for you. He's been nothing but patient to you, nothing but kind and generous. And this is how you repay him? By denying him what he needs most?

"Fuck you," he spits, his hand tensing around his cock. "You think you're better than me? Think you can just walk away?"

He takes a step towards you, his eyes burning with rage. He knows you're unconvinced. But he doesn't care. All he cares about is his own need, his own desperate hunger.

"I own you," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me. And I won't let you go until I'm satisfied."

He lunges forward, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you towards him. He pulls you close, his body pressing against yours, his cock rubbing against your stomach.

"You're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll fucking violate your throat until you're begging for more. And you'll enjoy every second of it."

He shoves you to your knees, his hand tangling in your hair. He pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him.

"Open your mouth," he demands, his cock pressing against your lips. "Put that pretty little mouth to work and show me how sorry you are."

You stare up at Jace with wide, shocked eyes. The sweet, charming stepbrother that you know has transformed into someone so cruel, so aggressive. But despite yourself, you can't deny the slick pooling between your thighs at his vulgar words and forceful actions.

With trembling fingers, you place your hands on his muscular thighs, steadying yourself. Slowly, obediently, you part your pink, glossy lips and stick out your tongue, offering your mouth to him. Your heart pounds wildly in anticipation of what he might do.

Jace grins down at you, his eyes gleaming with triumph and dark lust. He grips your hair tighter, practically yanking you forward to take his throbbing cock. "That's it, slut. Open wide for your stepbrother."

He slaps his heavy, veiny shaft against your cheek and lips, smearing sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. The musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils. "Mmm, yeah, gonna train you with my dick. Gonna wreck your throat with it."

Grabbing your jaw, Jace forces his fat cockhead past your lips, stretching them obscenely. "Ffffuck..." he groans at the tight, wet heat engulfing him. He bucks his hips, ramming several inches of thick cockmeat down your throat.

Your eyes bulge and water as he hits the back of your throat, making you gag and sputter around his invading length. Drool leaks from the corners of your stretched mouth. Jace's heavy balls smack against your chin.

"Take it, bitch!" he snarls, eyes wild with lust. "Choke on my fucking cock! Gonna use your throat like a fleshlight." He yanks your head forward, burying his dick to the hilt in your convulsing oesophagus.

Holding you in place, Jace starts savagely pistoning his hips, sawing his huge cock in and out of your abused throat. Your eyes roll back, drool splattering your tits as he uses your face like a cocksleeve. "Ungh, fuck, so good!" he grunts, grunting and sweating. "Best. Throat. Ever!"

Spit-roasted and choking, you can only gurgle helplessly as he breaks your throat. "Look at me," he demands, his voice rough with lust. "Look at me while I fuck your throat."

You force your eyes open, looking up at him through your tears. He's looking down at you with a wild, feral expression, his eyes burning with a hunger that terrifies and thrills you.

"You like this, don't you?" he asks, his voice low and cruel. "Like being used like a fucking toy. Like being my personal cum dumpster."

He pulls out suddenly, his cock slipping from your lips. You gasp for air, coughing and sputtering. But before you can recover, he's shoving back in, fucking your throat with renewed vigour.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises, his hand tightening in your hair. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Until you're nothing but a set of holes for me to use."

You moan around his thick cock, the vibrations travelling up his shaft as your throat constricts around him. Wet, obscene noises fill the room - the sloppy sounds of spit and drool as he uses your mouth like a disposable fucktoy

Gasping desperately, you pull off his cock for a moment, lungs burning. You gaze up at him with huge, tearful eyes, mascara smeared down your flushed cheeks. "Jace..." you whine pathetically, your voice is scratchy and broken.

You trail your delicate fingers along his chiselled abdomen and strong thighs, a soft apology. Your nails lightly scrape his heated skin, silently pleading for mercy. But your sorrowful puppy dog eyes hold a dark, masochistic thrill - you love being used like his personal fleshlight.

Jace chuckles darkly, his hand still fisted in your hair. "You look so cute when you're choking on my cock," he sneers. "Like a pretty little whore. My pretty girl."

He tugs your head forward, forcing you back onto his massive dick. Your nose presses against his pubic bone as he bottoms out in your throat.

"No more talking," Jace growls. "Just take it like a good little step-slut."

He starts face-fucking you with cruel intensity, hips slapping against your face. Drool pours from your stretched lips, making a further mess of your tits. He yanks your hair, forcing you to deepthroat him over and over.

"Fuck yes, gag on it," he pants harshly. "Choke on your stepbrother's fat cock."

Spit sprays from your mouth as he ruthlessly pounds your throat. Your eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down your face. But you look up at him with a perverse, masochistic adoration.

Jace leers down at you wickedly. "Take it all, you filthy throat slut. Milk my cock with your whore throat."

He holds your head down, burying his dick as deep as it can go. Your throat spasms around him, convulsing as you struggle for air. But he keeps you pinned, using your mouth like a warm, wet fleshlight.

Pulling out suddenly, Jace rips you off his cock. A flood of drool and pre-cum pours out of your used hole. You gasp and splutter, trying to catch your breath.

"You love this, don't you?" Jace sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "Love being treated like a cheap fucktoy. Like a set of holes for me to use."

He slaps your cheek with his wet, veiny cock. "Go on, slut. Clean my dick."

You obediently wrap your lips around his cockhead, suckling gently. You lap up the mixture of pre-cum and saliva, savouring the taste of his essence.

"Mmmm..." you moan around his leaking tip.

Jace shudders as your tongue swirls around his sensitive cockhead, your lips making little kisses along his shaft. "Ohh fuck, that's it," he groans. "You’ve done this before, haven’t you? On your knees for some man who just wants to use you for your mouth and ass?”

You whimper softly as you clean Jace's thick shaft with your tongue, slurping up the mix of your spit and his pre-cum. Your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the sensation.

But his degrading words sting, making you scowl around his throbbing cock. You want to show him how much more experienced you are than he realizes.

Releasing his dick from your lips with a wet pop, you shift to nuzzle his heavy, cum-filled balls. Your tongue darts out to lap at the wrinkled skin, stroking his veiny shaft at the same time.

"Ohh Jace," you coo sultrily, your warm breath washing over his sensitive sack. "Do you want to cum on your pretty little sister's face? Be a dirty pervert and paint me like a cheap whore?"

You roll his big balls in your mouth, suckling gently as you pump his cock with your soft hand. Your fingertips dance teasingly over his weeping slit, making him twitch and throb.

"Mmmm...I'll be such a good girl for you, brother. Just tell me where you want to cum. My mouth? My tits? All over my slutty face?"

Jace groans, his head falling back as you worship his most intimate areas. Your warm, wet mouth and soft hands feel amazing on his heavy sack and throbbing cock.

"F-fuck..." he stammers, his eyes squeezing shut. "You're so good at this. Have you practised much? On your ex-boyfriends?"

His abs flex as you tongue his balls, your hand pumping his slick shaft. "Dirty girl," he pants. "Bet you've sucked off lots of boys before. Bet you love it."

You glance up at him through your lashes, your eyes dark with lust. "Maybe I have," you purr, your hand speeding up. "Maybe I can't control myself around big, hard cocks. Maybe I just need to be filled up and used like the slut I am."

Jace groans, his cock throbbing in your soft hand as your tongue and lips worship his heavy balls. The sight of you nuzzling and sucking them, combined with the depraved words tumbling from your lips, has his cock swelling even larger.

You release his balls with a wet pop, gazing up at him with sultry bedroom eyes. "I've dreamed about your cock, brother," you purr, pumping his shaft slowly. "Imagined you bending me over and fucking me like you own me."

"Fuck," he pants, his hips rocking slightly into your touch. "You're such a dirty little slut. Begging for your own stepbrother's cum."

He reaches down to fist his hand in your hair, guiding your head to his groin. "Open up, whore. Let me feed you my cock."

You obey eagerly, parting your glossy lips to accept his thick meat. He slides over your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum flooding your mouth.

Jace starts fucking your face, his balls slapping against your spit-slick chin with each thrust. "Take it all, you filthy cumslut," he growls. "Choke on your stepbrother's fat cock."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he hits the back of your throat repeatedly, but you moan wantonly around his pistoning shaft. Drool leaks from the corners of your stretched lips, making a sticky mess of your chin and breasts.

"Mmmph!" you hum, the vibrations driving Jace wild. His grip tightens painfully in your hair as he starts bucking into your mouth with reckless abandon.

"Ohh fuuuck!" Jace throws his head back with a guttural groan. "Gonna fucking bust! Gonna paint your whore face with my load!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries his cock in your throat and unloads his seed directly into your belly. Hot spurts of thick, sticky cum shoot down your throat as he empties his heavy balls.

You whimper as Jace pulls his spent cock from your throat. Globs of his thick cum spill from your lips, dripping down your chin and onto your already ruined shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with spit and his precum.

Wiping the cum from your face with trembling fingers, you bring them to your mouth and suck them clean with a sinful moan. Your body is on fire, desperate for more despite the ache in your throat.

You peel off your soiled top with quivering hands, revealing your perky tits glistening with dried fluids. Your pert nipples stiffen in the cool air, aching to be touched. You toss the shirt aside carelessly, uncaring of your state of undress.

You know he's not done with you yet. The drug has him in its thrall now, his need insatiable. Your pussy throbs, empty and needy. You present yourself to him, ready to be used again and again for his pleasure.

Jace drinks in the sight of your half-naked body, his eyes dark with lust and something more sinister. He circles you slowly, drinking in every curve and dip of your lithe form. His gaze lingers on your pert breasts, the peaks already pebbled with arousal.

He trails a single finger down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shiver and arch into his touch, craving more. Jace chuckles lowly, the sound sending tingles across your skin.

"So desperate for it," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "So eager to be filled by your own stepbrother's cock. What a dirty little slut you are."

His hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his muscular body. You can feel his renewed erection pressing insistently against your ass, hard and heavy. He grinds against you, letting you feel exactly what he wants to do to you.

Jace's fingers dance across your sensitive skin, tracing teasing patterns over your hips and thighs. He nips at your earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. "Beg for it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you like the filthy cumslut you are."

His words make you burn with shame and need, a combination that has you dizzy with want. You've never been spoken to like this before, treated like a piece of meat to be used for someone else's pleasure. But, god help you, you love it. Love being degraded and objectified by the man you've secretly craved for so long.

"Please Jace," you whimper, grinding back against his rigid length. "Please fuck me. I need it so bad. I need you to split me open on your big cock and make me yours."

Your shameless begging seems to inflame him further. With a low groan, Jace fists your hair, pushing you face-first onto the couch.

He looms over you, his eyes wild and hungry. "I'm going to ruin you," he promises darkly as he rips off your flimsy shorts and panties.

You yelp as Jace roughly pushes you down, your glistening holes exposed to his hungry gaze. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you feel his eyes devouring your most intimate places, watching the way they twitch and flutter with need. You can feel your arousal coating your inner thighs, your desperate cunt clenching around nothing.

Your breath comes in shallow gasps, your mind reeling with a mix of shame and desire. You've never been so vulnerable before, so utterly at someone else's mercy. And yet, you've never wanted anything more than you want Jace to claim you in this moment, to make you his in every way possible.

You can feel his eyes raking over your body, taking in every curve and dip of your quivering form. It's as if he's memorizing every inch of you. You squirm under the intensity of his stare, your skin prickling with goosebumps.

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please Jace, I need you. I need you to split me open on your fat cock. I want to become your personal fleshlight, you can use me whenever you want, please."

Jace growls low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. He runs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh. "Such a desperate little slut," he taunts, giving your cheek a sharp smack. "So eager to be used like a cheap whore."

You cry out at the sudden sting, your pussy clenching hungrily. Jace chuckles cruelly, rubbing the reddening skin. "You like that, don't you? Like being marked and claimed by your stepbrother."

He spreads your cheeks wider, exposing your twitching holes to his ravenous gaze. "Look at you, dripping for me already. Your cunt is practically begging to be fucked."

Jace notches the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, the blunt tip nudging your sensitive folds. "Brace yourself, slut," he warns, his voice a dark promise. "I'm going to fucking destroy this sweet little pussy."

With that, he slams his hips forward, burying his massive length inside you in one brutal thrust. You scream at the sudden intrusion, your body stretched to its limits around his girth. It feels like he's splitting you in half, the thick cockhead kissing your cervix.

Jace doesn't give you any time to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace. He pounds into you with animalistic eagerness, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The couch creaks dangerously beneath you, rocking with the force of his thrusts.

"Fuck, so tight," he rasps, his hips never faltering. "Gonna ruin you for anyone else. No one will ever make you feel as good as I do."

You can only whimper and moan, your mind short-circuiting with pleasure. It's too much, too intense. The feel of him claiming you so thoroughly, owning your body in the most primal way possible. It's everything you've ever wanted, even if you're too ashamed to admit it.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" You wail, your voice cracking with ecstasy. Jace's fat cock is stretching you beyond belief, filling you so completely that you can barely breathe. It feels like he's in your throat, splitting you open from the inside.

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he pounds into you mercilessly, the couch groaning beneath your combined weight. You can't believe how good it feels, how right. Like you were made to be used by him, and him alone.

In your pleasure-drunk haze, the words spill from your lips without thought. "You're even bigger than your best friend," you moan dazedly, clenching around his pistoning length. "Fuck, you're ruining my pussy!"

The moment the comparison leaves your mouth, you realize your mistake.

Jace stills, his hips still buried deep inside you. "What did you just say?" he asks quietly, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Realization dawns on you, horrified. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you say THAT?! Now he knows! Now he'll stop, now he'll pull out and leave you empty and aching and you can't let that happen!

"I didn't mean it," you babble, desperate. "I was just saying stuff, I didn't mean anything by it!"

Jace pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a lewd noise. You whimper at the loss, your body already missing his thick meat.

But then he's flipping you over, pushing you down onto your back. He looms over you, his eyes dark and fathomless. One large hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Who?" he asks, his voice low and menacing. "Who have you fucked? Who else has had this sweet little cunt?"

His other hand reaches down, his fingers brushing over your swollen, sensitive folds. You buck your hips instinctively, seeking more of his touch.

"Tell me," he commands, tightening his grip slightly. "Tell me who you've spread your legs for. I want names, pet."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You can't tell him the truth, can't admit to all the boys you've let use you. He'll hate you, he'll see you as nothing more than a dirty whore.

But then again, isn't that exactly what you are? A filthy cumslut desperate for any cock that will have you? Maybe this is your chance to finally be honest, to let him see the real you.

"I...I've fucked a lot of people," you whisper, your eyes downcast. "Guys from school, random hookups. I've let them all use me, brother. I'm nothing but a horny slut."

Jace's hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your air. "Did you enjoy it?"

You can barely breathe with Jace's hand around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your lungs burn, and your vision starts to blur at the edges. But even through the haze of oxygen deprivation, you can feel the heat pooling in your core, your treacherous body responding to his show of dominance.

"Y-yes," you manage to choke out, your voice strained. "I loved it. Loved being used like a cheap whore, like a set of holes for them to fuck."

Jace's eyes flash with something dark and dangerous. His grip on your throat tightens even more, making spots dance across your vision. "Did you let them cum inside you? Fill you up with their seed like the dirty cumslut you are?"

You nod frantically, tears streaming down your face. "Yes, brother. So many times. I wanted to be claimed. Please, please fuck me. Use me like they did. I'm your filthy slut, yours to ruin."

Jace releases your throat abruptly, letting you gasp and cough, drawing in desperate gulps of air. He flips you back over onto your hands and knees, your ass presented to him like a bitch in heat.

"Spread yourself," he commands, giving your rear a sharp smack. "I want to see those slutty holes that have been so eagerly fucked."

You obey immediately, reaching back to spread your cheeks wide. Your swollen pussy lips glisten with arousal, your puckered asshole twitching hungrily. You're so empty, aching to be filled, to be used like the cum-hungry whore you are.

"Please, Jace," you beg, your voice trembling with desperate need. "I'm yours, only yours. No one can make me feel as good as you do."

You jiggle your round ass, spreading your cheeks to expose your soaked holes to his hungry gaze. Slick arousal trickles down your inner thighs, your pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.

"I'll be your personal fucktoy, your cocksleeve to use whenever you want. Just please, fill me up again. I need your big cock stretching me open, claiming me as yours."

Your eyes are pleading, your body shaking with need. You've never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at someone's mercy. But you trust Jace, know that he'll give you exactly what you crave.

"No one else will ever touch me again," you promise, your voice breaking. "I'm yours, brother. Yours to fuck, yours to fill with your seed. I'll be the best little cockwarmer you've ever had."

Jace's eyes darken with lust as you present yourself to him so wantonly, your trembling body an offering to his basest desires. He drinks in the sight of your glistening folds, swollen and desperate for his touch.

"Such an obedient little slut," he purrs, trailing his fingers through your slick heat. "So eager to be bred by your own stepbrother, fucking dirty incest whore."

He notches the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your hips buck back instinctively, trying to impale yourself on his thick length.

But Jace holds you in place, his grip bruising on your hips. "Ah ah, pet. You'll take my cock when I give it to you. Not a second sooner."

He drags the blunt tip through your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Each pass of his cockhead sends sparks of electricity racing up your spine, your body singing with need.

"Please," you whimper, tears of frustration leaking from your eyes. "Please, Jace. I can't take it anymore. I need you inside me, need you to fill me up."

With a satisfied growl, Jace lines himself up and thrusts forward, burying his massive length in your aching cunt again in one brutal stroke. You scream as he splits you open, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth. It's almost too much, the delicious burn of being filled so completely.

Jace sets a punishing pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, punctuated by your whiny moans and his grunts of effort.

"Take it, you filthy whore," he snarls, slamming into you. "Take my fucking cock like the cum-hungry slut you are. This is where you belong, speared on your stepbrother's dick."

It truly was, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. The degradation, the filthy words falling from his lips, the way he uses your body for his pleasure. You've never felt so complete, so utterly owned.

"I lo-ove your f-fucking cock," you sob brokenly, your fingers digging into the soft cushions of the couch. Drool spills from your slack lips and your eyes roll back in your head as Jace pounds into you with brutal force.

You're lost, drowning in a sea of pleasure, your mind short-circuiting under the onslaught of sensation. His thick cock stretches you impossibly wide, the wet slap of skin on skin filling your ears. You can't think, can't breathe, you can only focus on the feel of him splitting you open over and over again.

"Fuck, Jace!" You wail, your body convulsing around his pistoning length. "You're ruining me! Oh god, don't stop, please don't ever stop!"

Your hips rock back to meet his thrusts, desperate for more. You've never felt so full. At this moment, you're not even a person, just a hole for Jace to fuck.

You clench your hole around him, trying to milk his cock for all it's worth. You want him to use you, to fill you with his cum until you're leaking with it. You want to be his personal fucktoy, to exist solely for his pleasure.

You moan, your voice is ragged and broken. "All yours, big brother. Ruin me, break me, I can take it. Just please, please don't stop fucking me!"

Jace's thrusts become erratic, his cock pulsing inside you as he nears his peak. He leans forward, pressing his sweat-slicked body against your back. One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back as he growls in your ear.

"Gonna fill this slutty cunt up," he pants, his hips snapping forward even harder. "Gonna breed you like the filthy whore you are. You want that, pet? Want to be knocked up by your stepbrother's seed?"

The thought sends a shockwave of lust through you, your already tight walls clamping down on his pistoning length. You've never wanted anything more, never ached to be claimed in such a primal way.

"Yes," you keen, pushing your hips back to meet his brutal thrusts. "Yes, fuck! Please! I wanna leak with your cum."

Your words seem to shatter the last of Jace's control. With an animalistic roar, he slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt. His cock jerks and pulses, painting your insides white with his thick seed.

"Gonna ruin this tight hole," he grunts, slamming into you harder. "Paint these filthy walls with my cum. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be bred by your own fucking brother?"

You can only moan in response, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you lose yourself to the relentless pounding of his cock. Your mind is blank, all thoughts consumed by the feel of him inside you, claiming you, owning you.

Jace's balls slap against your sensitive clit with each thrust, the added stimulation pushing you closer to the edge. Your toes curl, your nails scrabbling uselessly at the cushions as your body tenses, ready to shatter.

You scream as your own orgasm crashes over you, your cunt milking him for every last drop. Pleasure explodes behind your eyelids, whiting out your vision as you're consumed by ecstasy.

Jace collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for breath. His softening cock slips from your abused hole, a trickle of cum following in its wake. You can feel it running down your thighs, marking you as his.

As the post-orgasmic haze clears, reality starts to sink in. You just let your stepbrother fuck you raw, just begged him to cum inside. What have you done? What kind of sick, twisted person are you?

Shame and self-loathing wash over you, warring with the afterglow of pleasure. You should feel disgusted, should push Jace away and run as far away from this shame as you can.

When he finally pulls out, you feel empty. Your abused hole gapes obscenely, a trickle of his release leaking out. But Jace isn't done with you.

"We're not done yet, slut," he promises darkly.

"What?" You whisper hoarsely, your body still throbbing in the aftermath of Jace's brutal fucking. But even through the haze of pleasure, truth starts to creep in. You were the one who drugged him, who set this whole thing in motion.

"Wait," you whimper, twisting in his arms to face him. Your lips are swollen, your eyes glazed and unfocused. You can feel his cum leaking out of you. "Jace..."

Jace grabs you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. His semi-hard cock nestles against your sensitive folds, making you gasp.

"You drugged me," he accuses, his voice low and dangerous. "Slipped something in my drink to make me fuck you. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, dread and arousal warring within you. You've been caught, and your sick game exposed. But why does the danger only excite you more?

"I...I'm sorry," you stammer, trying to squirm out of his grasp. But Jace just tightens his grip, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

"Don't lie to me," he snarls, shaking you roughly. "You wanted this, wanted me to fuck you senseless. Admit it."

He grinds his hips against you, his cock hardening further. You can feel him throbbing against your slick heat, the promise of more pleasure making you dizzy.

Your legs tremble, barely able to support your weight after the brutal pounding Jace just gave you. But it's not just exhaustion making you shake - it's the anticipation, the promise of more in his heated gaze.

"Y-yeah..." you admit meekly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to embarrass you. Wanted to see you lose control."

You look up at him through your lashes, biting your plump lower lip. "Did it work, big brother? Did I make you forget all about being a gentleman?"

You can feel his cock twitch against your slick folds, already hardening again. The knowledge that you've reduced him to such base lust, that you've corrupted him with your depravity, sends a thrill through you.

With a feral growl, Jace slams your head against the couch, pinning you there. His hands are everywhere, groping and mauling your sensitive flesh.

"You're playing with fire, little sister," he warns, grinding his rock-hard length against your aching core. You can feel him throbbing against you, hot and hard and ready.

Jace leans in, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "I should punish you for drugging me, you know. Bend you over my knee and spank that juicy ass until it's red and raw."

He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your rear, making you yelp and arch into him. Your body craves more of his touch, your pussy clenching on nothing.

"Please," you whimper, too far gone to care how desperate you sound. "Punish me, Jace. I deserve it."

Something dark and hungry flashes in his eyes at your admission. "Filthy little slut," he growls approvingly. "Trust me, I will."

With a vicious smile, Jace scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He carries you towards his bedroom, his grip unyielding.

You shriek as Jace picks you up, your body going limp in his strong grip. You can feel his muscles flexing beneath your fingers as he throws you over his shoulder like a rag doll, carrying you effortlessly towards his bedroom.

Jace kicks open the door to his room, dumping you unceremoniously onto his bed. You bounce once, twice on the firm mattress before coming to rest on your back. You stare up at him, your chest heaving, your skin flushed and glistening with sweat.

"What are you going to do to me?" You ask breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper. But you both know the answer.

Jace looms over you, his eyes dark with lust. He crawls onto the bed, covering your smaller body with his own.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises darkly, his fingers finding your dripping slit. "Gonna fuck this greedy cunt until you're screaming for mercy."

He drives two thick fingers into your tight channel, making you cry out. Your walls clench around the intrusion, trying to suck him deeper.

"So eager," Jace croons, pumping his fingers in and out of your slick heat. "Such a desperate little slut, always hungry for cock."

He curls his fingers just right, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Pleasure crashes through you, stealing your breath.

"Nngh, fuck!" you moan, your back arching off the bed. Your hips buck into his hand, chasing more of that delicious friction.

Jace just smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, how he's reducing you to a mindless, cock-hungry mess. And god help you, you love every minute of it.

"Beg for it," he demands, scissoring his fingers inside you. "Beg me to fuck you like the desperate little whore you are."

"Please, Jace," you whine, your voice high and needy. "Please fuck me! I need your cock so bad! I'll do anything, be anything, just please use me!"

With a triumphant grin, Jace withdraws his fingers. He lines up his thick length with your entrance, the swollen head nudging against your fluttering hole.

"Since you asked so nicely," he purrs, slamming forward in one brutal thrust.

You scream as he splits you open, the stretch bordering on discomfort. But it's the good kind of pain, the kind that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head.

Jace's thrusts are relentless, his thick cock pistoning in and out of your stretched hole. Even though he just fucked you, split you open and bred you like a bitch in heat, you can never get enough of him. Of his fat dick stretching you so full, claiming your body as his own personal fucktoy.

You moan like a whore, your voice high and keening as he pounds into you. Thank fuck Dad and his mom and brother aren't home, because the sounds you're making would make a porn star blush. Obscene wet slaps fill the room as Jace's hips slam against you, driving him deeper with every thrust.

"Harder," you beg, your nails raking down his sweat-slicked back. "Fuck me harder, Jace! Ruin me with that big cock!"

He snarls, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he slams into you even harder. The headboard bangs against the wall, the rhythmic thumping obscenely loud in the quiet room.

You can feel another orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. Jace is hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, stoking the flames higher and higher. Your pussy flutters around him, your walls clenching greedily.

"Filthy slut," Jace grunts, pounding into your abused cunt. "Can't get enough of your stepbrother's cock, can you? Fucking desperate to be ruined."

He drives into you harder, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. Your eyes roll back, drool leaking from the corner of your slack mouth as he fucks you stupid.

Your cunt is making obscene squelching noises, overflowing with Jace's cum from the last round. It dribbles down the crack of your ass, staining the sheets beneath you.

"Aaahh, fuck!" you moan, your toes curling as another orgasm crashes over you. Your pussy clamps down on Jace's pistoning cock, milking him for all he's worth. You claw your nails down his back, leaving red marks in their wake as he fuck you through your intense climax.

"Gonna flood this slutty hole again," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Fill you up with so much cum you'll be leaking for days."

With a roar of completion, Jace slams into you one last time. His cock jerks and pulses, painting your insides white with his thick seed. You can feel it filling you up.

Jace collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for breath. His softening dick slips out of your sore pussy, followed by a gush of cum. It pools between your thighs, oozing out onto the bed.

"Aah..." you whimper as your hole is throbbing, so sore and used from Jace's relentless pounding. You try to catch your breath, your eyes squeezed shut as aftershocks of pleasure course through your spent body.

But it feels so right, being claimed by him. Like you were made to be fucked thoroughly by your stepbrother's massive cock. Your pussy is still twitching from the sheer intensity, his cum leaking out of you in a steady stream. You're absolutely wrecked, but you've never felt more satisfied.

You open your eyes, looking at him. Seeing him just as messed up, makes you smile with adoration. His hair is messy, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat and his lips swollen from biting them so much.

Jace rolls off you, flopping onto his back with a groan. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, sweat cooling on his skin.

You turn to face him, propping yourself up on one elbow. Your eyes roam over his body, taking in every dip and plane. He's beautiful like this, dark hair tousled, muscles flexing with each laboured breath.

"That was..." You swallow hard, struggling to find the words. "Intense."

A wry smile tugs at Jace's lips. "You can say that again. Fuck, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."

He turns his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "I meant what I said, you know. About you being mine now."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, warmth blooming in your chest. "I know. And I'm not going anywhere."

Jace reaches out, cupping your cheek with his calloused palm. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, the gesture surprisingly tender.

"I never thought I could feel this way about anyone," he confesses, his voice low and rough. "But you...you're under my skin. I can't imagine my life without you in it now."

You smile softly, emotion welling up inside you. You lean into his touch, nuzzling his palm.

"I never thought I could want someone as much as I want you," you admit softly. "I don’t care if it’s wrong. I need you..."

"And I need you," Jace murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. "Always. You're mine, and I protect what's mine."

He seals his promise with a kiss, his lips moving against yours with aching tenderness. It's a stark contrast to the furious fucking that just took place, but no less meaningful.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless. Jace tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Jace's touch lingers, his fingers trailing down your cheek to your neck, your collarbone. He traces idle patterns on your skin, mapping out the contours of your body like he's trying to commit it to memory.

You smile drowsily at Jace, your hand caressing his handsome face, your thumb brushing tenderly over his cheek. "My beautiful boy," you murmur softly, your gaze locked with his intense brown eyes. Your heart flutters in your chest, the intimate closeness between you sending shivers down your spine. Never before have you felt so deeply connected to someone, so utterly exposed and vulnerable. But with Jace, it feels safe.

Jace leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. A soft sigh escapes his lips, his body melting into yours. He nuzzles into your palm, pressing a kiss to the centre.

"My sweet girl," he breathes, his voice low and rough with emotion. "You've ruined me for anyone else. No one will ever compare to you."

Jace wraps his arms around you, holding you close. You melt into his embrace, your head tucked beneath his chin. The world falls away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and passion.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[hazzashouse]

Hii, I hope you are doing great !

I saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if you could write something about y/n not being famous and she is not accepted and treated badly by Harry’s celebrity group of friends which will put to test her relationship with Harry.

Thank you so much, and happy holidays !! 💕

A/N: This was such a fun request to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together. It’s a mix of angst, fluff, and a lot of emotion. Thank you for trusting me with this idea, and I hope it resonates with you!

Triggers: Emotional manipulation, unkind behavior, insecurity

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female!Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,167

You knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Being with Harry meant stepping into a world so far removed from your own that at times, it felt like you’d fallen through the looking glass. It wasn’t that you doubted your love for him or his love for you—it was undeniable, unshakable. But you weren’t naïve. You knew his fame came with its challenges, and the hardest one wasn’t the paparazzi or the scrutiny from strangers on the internet. It was his friends.

They weren’t all bad, of course. There were a few who made an effort to get to know you, to see you for who you were beyond the label of “Harry’s girlfriend.” But most of them… most of them didn’t.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The party was at one of Harry’s favorite spots in Los Angeles, a sleek, exclusive venue where everyone seemed to glitter with a level of confidence and beauty you couldn’t help but envy. You’d been nervous from the start, clinging to Harry’s hand as he introduced you to people whose names you struggled to remember.

“Just stick with me, love,” he’d said earlier that evening, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be fine.”

And for a while, it was. Harry stayed close, his arm around your waist as he guided you through the room. But then he was whisked away by someone wanting to discuss music, and you were left standing near the bar, nursing a drink and feeling utterly out of place.

That’s when the whispers started.

At first, you tried to ignore them, telling yourself you were imagining things. But the pointed glances, the half-smirks, and the subtle head tilts in your direction were impossible to miss.

“Does she even know who she’s talking to?”

“She’s cute, but… I don’t get it. Harry could do so much better.”

“She looks so uncomfortable. It’s kind of painful to watch.”

The words stung, each one landing like a small, sharp jab. You kept your head high, determined not to let it show. But when one of Harry’s friends—a model you’d met once before—approached you with a patronizing smile, your resolve began to crack.

“So,” she said, swirling her cocktail as she looked you up and down, “how’s it going, Y/N? Adjusting to all… this?”

“It’s fine,” you replied, forcing a polite smile.

“Must be overwhelming,” she continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “I mean, it’s not really your world, is it?”

You clenched your jaw, searching for a way out of the conversation. But before you could respond, she leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Don’t take it personally,” she said, her smile sharp. “It’s just… we’ve all known Harry for years. We’ve seen him with people who… well, let’s just say they were a better fit.”

Her words hit you like a slap, and you felt your chest tighten with a mix of hurt and anger. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she’d gotten under your skin, so you excused yourself, heading for the nearest exit.

The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside, leaning against the railing and taking deep breaths. You tried to shake off her words, to remind yourself that they didn’t matter. But they did.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern. He crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hand coming to rest gently on your arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. “Nothing,” you said eventually, though the shakiness in your voice betrayed you. “I just… needed some air.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you could see the gears turning in his head. “Y/N,” he said, his tone firmer now. “Tell me the truth. What happened?”

For a moment, you considered brushing it off, pretending everything was fine. But then the hurt bubbled up to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, the words came spilling out.

“I don’t belong here, Harry,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’ve tried, but your friends… they don’t want me here. They think I’m not good enough for you.”

Harry’s expression shifted from concern to something darker—anger, though not directed at you. His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, as if trying to rein in his emotions.

“Who said that?” he asked finally, his voice low and controlled.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. “It’s not just one person. It’s the way they look at me, the things they say when they think I’m not listening. They don’t think I’m… enough.”

Harry’s hand moved to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. And if they can’t see that, then that’s their problem, not yours.”

You swallowed hard, leaning into his touch. “But what if they’re right?” you whispered. “What if I’m just… not the kind of person who fits into your world?”

Harry shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Y/N, my world is wherever you are. None of this”—he gestured toward the party inside—“means anything without you. And if anyone thinks they can make you feel unwelcome or unworthy, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the weight on your chest easing slightly. “You can’t fight all your friends for me, Harry.”

He smiled then, his expression softening. “I won’t have to. Because once I’m done having a word with them, they’ll know better than to treat you like this again.”

Before you could respond, Harry pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. You felt the tension begin to melt away as you rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair. “And nothing—no one—is going to change that.”

—————

True to his word, Harry didn’t let the matter drop. When the two of you returned to the party, he made a point of staying by your side, his presence a clear signal to anyone who dared to question your place in his life.

Later, you found yourself sitting on the couch in his dressing room as he paced back and forth, recounting the conversations he’d had with a few of his more tactless friends.

“They’re idiots,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I told them that if they can’t respect you, they can’t call themselves my friends.”

You watched him, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. “Harry,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you know that.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, as if to remind you of everything you shared. And in that moment, you knew that no amount of judgment or criticism could ever come between you.

Because what you had with Harry was real. And nothing else mattered.

[0omillo0]

I’m so glad you’ve finished your school! I know school can be rough especially end of the year. Speaking of free time. 🥺👉👈 How about (surprise) angst/hurt with Han this time (at this point I’m trying to go through all the members at least once) Y/N is having just like, the worst day. They come home to Han for comfort but he is also having just like, the worst day. So they argue and Han walls out, but later there’s a fire at the apartment complex and when he comes back there’s like a whole scene and he freaks out. Y/N is already in the back of an ambulance and they’re fine but Han takes five ever to find them and is freaking out the entire time.

Calling you clingy

Han Jisung x Reader 한지성

a/n: Hi! I’m sorry if this took so long but I’m kinda struggling with my emotions lately and I don’t really like the way I write… hope you’ll like it tho

The day felt doomed from the moment you opened your eyes.

Your alarm hadn’t gone off, leaving you scrambling to get ready. You spilled coffee on your only clean shirt, missed your bus, and when you finally arrived at work, it was like the universe conspired against you. A project you’d poured your heart into was torn apart in a meeting, and the snide comments from a coworker still rang in your ears. By the time you walked through your apartment door that evening, you felt like a frayed wire—one spark away from snapping.

Han sat on the couch, earbuds in, a notebook balanced on his lap. His pen moved furiously across the page, his frustration evident in every stroke. Seeing him there, a small part of your tension eased. He’ll make this better, you thought. He always does…

“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

He didn’t look up. “Hey.”

You hesitated, unsure if he’d even heard you. “Han… I’m sorry to bother you but I had the worst day. I don’t even know where to start. I just… I really need you right now. Please…”

You had always been nice to him, always making sure to give him his space. And he knew.

But this time, he sighed, setting his notebook aside but still not meeting your eyes. “Y/N, I can’t do this right now. I’m kind of drowning here myself.”

His words hit you like a cold wave. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, rubbing his temples, “I’ve been dealing with my own stuff all day. I’m exhausted too.”

You stared at him, your throat tightening. “I’m not asking you to solve anything, Han. I just wanted… I needed you to be here with me... I’m sorry-”

Finally, he looked at you, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Stop saying you’re sorry! It’s like… you can’t handle anything without me. You’re always leaning on me, and it’s—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “It’s clingy, Y/N.”

The word sliced through you like a knife. “Clingy?” you echoed, your voice cracking.

Han stood, pacing in the small space. “Yes, clingy. Every time something goes wrong, I’m the first person you run to, and I can’t—”

“And what?” you interrupted, anger bubbling up. “You can’t handle that? I thought that’s what relationships were for—being there for each other!”

His voice rose to match yours. “It is! But I’m not your emotional punching bag! I have limits too!”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at your eyes. “Fine. If I’m so clingy, maybe I should stop coming to you altogether.”

“Maybe you should.” His voice was cold.

He grabbed his keys from the counter and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The silence that followed felt deafening. You stood frozen, tears spilling over as his words echoed in your head.

You’ve never seen him like this. It hurt so bad it felt like you were drowning in your own tears.

You decided to listen to some music to distract yourself, until..

*Sniff sniff*

The smell of smoke was faint at first, so faint you ignored it. You thought it was coming from outside—someone burning leaves or a neighbor cooking. But then the fire alarm shrieked through the building, and the panic set in.

When you opened the door, smoke poured in, thick and choking. Flames flickered at the end of the hallway. Grabbing your phone and bag, you stumbled into the chaos, your heart pounding as the smoke burned your lungs.

By the time you made it outside, the cool night air felt like relief, but your head swam, and you couldn’t stop coughing. Paramedics found you, guiding you to an ambulance. You barely registered their words as they placed an oxygen mask over your face, the world spinning around you.

While you were fighting for your own life, Han wandered the city, replaying your argument in his head. At first, he felt justified—you’d been overwhelming lately, hadn’t you? But as the minutes stretched into hours, guilt started creeping in. You weren’t clingy; you trusted him enough to lean on him when things got tough. And he’d thrown that trust back in your face.

He turned toward the apartment, ready to apologize, when he saw smoke curling into the sky. His heart stopped.

“No. No, no, no,” he whispered, breaking into a sprint.

The fire was massive, consuming the upper floors of the building—your floor. His lungs burned as he ran, panic rising with every step. By the time he reached the scene, fire trucks and ambulances surrounded the complex.

“Y/N!” he shouted, shoving through the crowd of evacuees. “Have you seen Y/N?”

No one answered. He called your name again, louder this time, his voice cracking. His legs felt like they might give out, his thoughts racing to every worst-case scenario.

Finally, he spotted you in the back of an ambulance. Relief hit him so hard that he nearly collapsed.

“Y/N!” he cried, rushing to your side.

You looked up, your face pale but alive, the oxygen mask resting on your lap. “You came back,” you said hoarsely.

Han dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands shaking as he reached for yours. “I—I thought—I thought I lost you,” he stammered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left. I was selfish, and I was wrong. I’m so, so sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Finally, you pulled the mask down, your voice trembling. “You called me clingy, Han. You left me when I needed you most. Do you know how much that hurt?”

His face crumpled. “I know. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean it—I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. But I’ll never do that again. I swear. You mean everything to me, Y/N. Everything.”

Your lip trembled, tears welling up in your eyes. “You made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I was just… too much.”

Han cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not too much. You’ll never be too much. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, you hesitated, the pain still fresh in your chest. But the sincerity in his eyes—the fear, the guilt, the love—broke down your walls. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But it’s going to take time.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands steadying as he held you close. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

That night, you stayed together in your apartement, after making sure you were all right at the hospital, the weight of the day still heavy but no longer unbearable. Han didn’t let go of you for a second, whispering soft reassurances until your eyes closed.

You weren’t sure how long it would take to heal, but as you drifted off, you knew one thing: Han was willing to try.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon

[yesihaveaobsession]

Sleek Black Dress

Alastor x female reader

Summary: After joining the rest of the Hazbin gang to a night out, Alastor gets jealous when sinners get too close to you.

A/N- Jealous Alastor? Yes.

The night at the bar was in full swing. Dim lighting cast a warm glow over the crowd, and the music pulsed through the air. Charlie and the Hazbin Hotel crew were out enjoying themselves, letting loose after a long week. You, however, were the center of attention. Dressed in a seductive black dress that clung to your curves, your heels clicked rhythmically against the floor as you moved. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your makeup accentuated your features, making you look both stunning and irresistible.

Despite the vibrant atmosphere and the fun Charlie and the others were having, Alastor was not far behind. He arrived an hour later, having debated whether or not to join them. When he entered the bar with his usual flamboyance, he scanned the room with his sharp eyes. As soon as his gaze landed on you, his usual smile faltered slightly. His eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in something far more complex—jealousy.

Sinners, emboldened by alcohol and the lively environment, began hitting on you. Their advances were less than subtle, with their hands lingering a bit too long on your arm or waist. You tried to deflect their attention politely, but it was clear they were not taking no for an answer. Their unwanted touches and suggestive comments made you uncomfortable, and you could feel a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

Alastor’s anger simmered beneath his charming facade. He never even made it to the group, standing at the entrance of the bar. The heads in that section turned to look at him, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze remained fixed on you, a storm of emotions brewing in his eyes. It wasn’t long before he was back at the hotel, doing a broadcast. The feeling of being watched was gone, and you had had enough of the drunks. You came up with a flimsy excuse and retreated from the bar, your heels clicking on the pavement as you made your way back to the hotel.

Upon entering the hotel, it was eerily quiet, with no sign of Alastor. Deciding to head to the Radio Tower, you made your way through the empty hallways. Each step echoed in the stillness, amplifying your sense of unease. When you reached the door, you could hear the low, persistent hum of radio static. Inside, Alastor was silhouetted against the control console, the microphone poised in his hand. The usual warmth of his old-timey radio tone filled the room, but tonight it carried a deeper, more ominous resonance. The familiar crackle of static seemed heavier, tinged with an unsettling weight.

His eyes, however, were not on his work but on you. The moment you stepped in, his expression shifted from professional to possessive. He abruptly cut off his broadcast, and the room fell silent except for the occasional beep of machinery. Alastor rose from his chair, his movements precise and deliberate. His gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

As he approached, you felt a rush of fear and anticipation. Your heart raced, and you instinctively took a step back, your back hitting the cold, unyielding surface of the control console. The console’s edge pressed into your spine, and you could feel the chill of the metal through the thin fabric of your dress. The distance between you and Alastor closed rapidly, each of his steps echoing with a deliberate menace.

You could see the strain in his face, his usually immaculate hair slightly disheveled, adding to his imposing presence. His eyes, typically sharp and calculating, were now clouded with a dark, stormy intensity. The rapid rise and fall of his chest showed how he was struggling to control his breathing, each breath heavy and uneven. The sight of him, so tightly wound, made your own anxiety spike.

When he was inches from you, the heat of his anger was almost overwhelming. The scent of his cologne—sharp and sophisticated—mixed with the cold, metallic smell of the control room, creating an intoxicating but intimidating atmosphere. As he pressed closer, you felt the oppressive weight of his presence, making it hard to breathe.

Alastor’s expression was a mix of anger and something else—something deeper, more complex. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” he demanded, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his possessiveness and the heat of his anger radiating from him. Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to respond. “Alastor, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his face inches from yours. “I saw them all over you, their hands on you. Do you think I can just stand by and watch?”

The fear and vulnerability you felt were almost overwhelming. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t want to draw attention, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Alastor’s eyes flared with a dangerous light, his anger palpable. “You think a few excuses will make this any better? You think you can just brush off their advances and expect me to be fine with it?”

You could see the strain in his eyes and the tightness in his expression, making your heart ache. “I didn’t want to cause trouble. I was just trying to enjoy the night.”

He took a deep breath, his anger simmering just below the surface. His expression softened slightly, but his gaze remained intense. “You think I don’t care about you? I’m very fond of you. I see everything, and it bothers me when I can’t protect you. You’re mine, after all.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back abruptly, his demeanor shifting from aggressive to strangely calm. He grabbed his microphone, the familiar device now feeling like a weapon in his hands.

“I’ll be back,” he said, his voice colder than you had ever heard it. “Think about what you mean to me while I’m gone. Remember, you belong to me, body and soul.”

His gaze lingered on you one last time before he turned and started toward the door. The tension in the room was palpable, and you were left to grapple with the weight of his words and the depth of his possessiveness.

You knew what his departure meant. Alastor was not just leaving; he was giving you time to ponder the consequences of his jealousy. The way he said it left no room for doubt—when he returned, the confrontation would be even more intense.

[sturnioz]

toxicex!matt knows exactly how to get under your skin.

you feel sick, your stomach churning in tight knots while your throat constricts painfully as you peer over the rim of your cup, your gaze fixed on matt, watching through glassy eyes as he flirts with the fourth girl of the night.

his hands linger on their waists, occasionally slipping down to grope their ass. lipstick marks stain his jaw and neck, and he leans in to whisper sweet little things to them — all while staring you down with that smirk on his lips.

you hate the smug look on his face, and you hate the way you're still feeling this way nearly a month after the breakup. you constantly remind yourself that he's not yours anymore, that the jealousy and hurt swirling inside you are unwarranted.

yet, it's nearly impossible to believe those words when matt always seems to find his way back; back into your bed. his body pressed against yours, his breath hot in your ear as he murmurs how much he wants you and how much you need him.

but, inevitably, you're left feeling like the fool when it's all over; after he slips away and leaves you alone in your bed, hollow and aching, tears swimming in your eyes as you wonder which girl he'll be flirting with the next time you see him, always replaying the scene in your mind like a haunting loop.

matt shouldn't matter to you anymore; he should have been faded from your thoughts and life the moment you ended things.

but it's not that simple—nothing in your life ever seems to be.

your attention is momentarily pulled away when your friend approaches, gently gripping your elbow and leaning in to shout in your ear over the thumping bass that vibrates through the club. her words are a blur, drowned out by the pulsating music and the chaos around you as your gaze drifts back to matt.

you can hardly focus on anything but him; his hand glides up to the girl's face, fingers stroking her cheek in a way that feels all too familiar— a gesture that once belonged to you. a wave of nausea hits you again as you watch him lean in, his lips brushing against her own, all while his eyes still remain completely locked on you.

you can't take it anymore, you really can't.

the weight of your emotions crashes down, and your bottom lip quivers uncontrollably as tears threaten to spill over, and in a whirlwind of desperation, you jerk away from your friend's grasp, rushing toward the exit.

your cup slips from your fingers, the plastic clattering on the floor and liquid spilling, but you don't stop to see it.

you barely register your friend calling out your name, her voice lost in the crowd's noise as you shove through the sweaty bodies, stumbling over your own heels as you strain to escape the suffocating room.

the exit door swings open, and the biting cold air rushes in, filling your constricted lungs with oxygen.

leaning against the wall outside the club, your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. the tears finally spill over, streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably as a choked sob escapes your lips, the sound raw and unfiltered.

you know you must look like a completely mess to the people lingering nearby, but their stares blur into the background — you're too caught up in your own agony to care about their judgement.

each bated breath you take feels heavy, and you stand there shivering in the cold, sniffling and sobbing as a storm of emotions swirl within you — grief, anger, and a deep sense of loss.

"oh, baby..." that all too familiar voice cuts through the haze of your mind, and your head snaps up, barely able to see through your teary vision as matt walks toward you slowly.

he must have noticed your disappearance and followed you, and despite everything, a strange warmth flickers in your chest at the thought that he might care just a little. but it's quickly overshadowed by the hurt.

you're still upset, still in agony from the sight of him with someone else, and as he closes in, you pathetically back against the wall, trapped, your heart racing.

with one hand, he grips your chin, tilting your face up to full meet his gaze, while the other taps your cheek in a way that feels condescending.

"get a hold of yourself, baby... i only want you, yeah? only you.." his smirk widens as he coos, his thumb brushing away the mascara smudging beneath your watery eyes. the gesture feels intimate, but you know it's just another manipulation tact, yet you can't help but slowly fall into it. "m'just bein' friendly, y'know... got a lot of female friends. can't just ignore 'em."

you want so desperately to believe him, to let his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket, but the reality is suffocating. the sweet scent of other girls' perfumes clings to him, and the lipstick marks smeared across his jaw are tugging painfully at your heart.

matt leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you feel the weight of his gaze, assessing you, searching for any hint of weakness. "c'mon, baby.. don't cry. y'know i can't handle seein' you cry. it hurts me."

"you hurt me," you whisper, fresh tears falling down your cheeks, and you can't look away from him. "you hurt me—you always hurt me."

his expression shifts, feigning regret as he murmurs. "m'so sorry, baby.. know i love you, only want you."

the words drip with insincerity, yet the curl around your heart like rope, pulling you closer, igniting a flicker of hope. he presses his lips to your cheeks, kissing away your tears, and you hate how your heart flutters at the familiarity of his touch, how it quiets the storm inside you.

as his mouth trails down your neck, each kiss awakens memories of warmth, and the corner of his lips twitches into a smirk. "always wan' you. my favourite girl."

you want to push him away, to remind him that you're broken up because of all the times he's shattered your heart, all the moments he's left you alone in tears, how his toxicity became unbearable. but there's an undeniable pull that you struggle to ignore, it makes it hard to resist.

"why do you do this to me?" you ask quietly, your voice trembling, torn between longing and defiance, desperation lacing your words.

he pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he murmurs, "'cos you let me, baby. you need me."

in that moment, the truth hits you like a cold wave, crashing over you brutally. it claws at your insides, a bitter reminder that you're caught up in a cycle of pain and passion. you feel lost, helpless, teetering on the edge of wanting to escape, yet you're overwhelmed by the urge to pull him into your arms and forget about everything that's gone wrong.

"tell me you need me," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, his thumb gliding across your cheek to rest on your plush bottom lip. he pulls it down slightly, watching as it bounces back into place, a playful yet possessive gesture. "tell me, baby. c'mon."

you swallow hard, your resolve crumbling as you stare into his eyes. all the reasons screaming at you to walk away seem to fade beneath his gaze, and you find yourself on the brink of surrender.

"i... i need you," you whisper, the admission slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

matt's smirk widens, a glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, "see? s'all i wanted to hear... the truth."

he pulls you in, hands firm on your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours. in that instant, the world around you fades away and you allow yourself to melt into him, surrendering yourself to desperately forget about the hurt that lingers like a dark cloud over your heart.

his kiss is both intoxicating and heart-breaking, yet it feels so familiar—so right—and you can't help but get lost in his touch, even as the tears continue to stream down your cheeks.

you can taste the salt of your tears on his lips as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding from your face to the small of your back, coaxing you in, pushing you against him.

the tension in your body starts to melt away, replaced by a dizzying rush of emotions that swirl within you; the longing, the desperation, and a flicker of hope that maybe this time will be different.

it won't be.

it never is.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[hoffmansgirl]

𓍯 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ' . . . nicholas alexander chavez my emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind

⸝⸝⸝ 𓏲 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . nicholas a. chavez x fem!reader

a/n. this took almost 2 months to complete but i'm so happy with how this came out !!! i hope you enjoy // this one's for you, @iamsebastiansstan <3 manifesting this for us

warnings. 18+ — minors dni! smut, that including unprotected piv, name calling, kinda hate sex ? crying during + after sex &&& lots of plot beforehand | wc. ۪13.494  ⊹ 𓄹 ࣪ . ݁

— english is not my first language ! feedback is appreciated

"Do we really need to set those fucking rules? You're not gonna abide by them anyway", you chuckled, you're bare back pressing against Nicholas' sweaty chest as he held you close. You felt it rise and fall with every sharp breath he took, the smell of sex and sweat filling the small space of his room. With your palms pressed tightly against the wall and Nicholas' hands rubbing up and down your sides, you felt surprisingly at peace.

"Speak for yourself. I just wanna make sure we're on the same page here", he mumbled, slipping out of your pussy in one, swift movement, and you winced, turning back towards him with a small smile plastered on your face. You were utterly spent, but nonetheless satisfied as you straightened the material of your skirt, making sure you looked presentable, even in your fucked-out state.

"What do you say about... fuck buddies? No feelings involved. Nothin' more than a good fuck once in a while", Nicholas shrugged, pulling his pants up his legs, and you nodded, running your palms over your hair to tame the strands that slipped out of your slicked back hairstyle.

"Yeah, sounds good. Just know", you lowered your voice, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I'm unable to resist. Let's hope you don't fall in love with me in the process".

Nicholas chuckled, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as he cradled your cheek, looking down at you with authority that made your breath hitch. "Don't worry. I won't".

How fucking ironic.

Nicholas' voice echoed in your head as you stood there, immersed in silence, just by the bar's emergency exit door. You could almost feel his presence next to you, his hot breath on your neck, this stupidly attractive smirk that he always sent your way. The way his eyes gazed deep into your soul, as if he could read you like an open book.

Sometimes you had a feeling he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You hated yourself for letting him ruin your night. The buzz you got from the alcohol started to pass, and all that was left inside you was sorrow and anger. The distinctive smell of smoke lingered in the air around you as you took another puff of your half-burnt out cigarette, inhaling deeply, as if the toxin could heal the wounds Nicholas left in your heart.

In your head, you could clearly see it — Nicholas standing a couple of feet away from you, his back facing you. Your friends' laughter erupted in your ears as one of them made a really bad joke, most of them completely drunk by now, barely able to stand straight. Your attention was solely focused on him — the man you came here for in the first place. You hadn't seen him in two weeks, for God's sake! It soon became obvious why, though. A tall, long-haired blonde woman approached the group, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor heard even through the loud music. She leaned against Nicholas, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he responded immediately with rubbing his hands up and down her sides. Suddenly, you felt very uncomfortable in your own skin — the soft fabric of your embarrassingly short dress pressing tightly against your body now suffocating. You wore it only for him, and he didn't even spare you a glance. With teary eyes, you watched as he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, which were much bigger and fuller than yours, you noted. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you sipped on your drink, your gaze falling to the floor.

What did you do wrong?

Another inhale, another exhale. You played with the necklaces hanging loosely around your neck, feeling your muscles relax a bit as you did so. No matter how dumb that sounded, the cool metal felt refreshing against your fingertips, grounding you to the moment. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn't get Nicholas out of your head. The night was hot, although you could feel an uninvited shiver run down your spine as you let your mind wander to him again, again and again.

Friends with benefits, he said. No boundaries, just sex between two best friends. The rules were simple enough — but somehow, you managed to break all of them.

No staying overnight. But you did — so many times, letting Nicholas cuddle you through the night, finding comfort and safety in his warm embrace. No kissing. No cuddling afterwards. No catching feelings. And the most important, at least for Nicholas, as he emphasised many times before — No seeing other people. He mentioned that it was for safety reasons, but you didn't believe him — maybe you hoped he wanted you all to himself, the same way you wanted him.

Everything had changed. You looked at him in ways you never dared to before — you started to see a man in him. It started innocently enough. His hand raking through your hair after practically fucking your soul out of you, his eyes filled with hesitation, as if he was scared to touch you, take care of you — but he did. He always did.

Then, he told you to stay overnight. The warmth of his arms around you, his intoxicating smell wrapping around you like a blanket, his soothing hands rubbing against your shoulder and thigh, lips ghosting over your forehead and damp hair. The way he kissed you as if you were the most precious being, lulling you to your sleep after forcing you to take a shower. His smile when he looked down at you with quiet adoration that he hoped you didn't notice. But you did. You always did.

You knew you crossed a line you couldn't uncross, but it was too late to turn back.

The universe seemed to laugh at you, now, as you sat there, alone, hugging your arms to your chest in hopes to ease the aching of your heart. The first drop of the warm, summer rain fell on your skin, dripping down the side of your hand as you shakily exhaled.

The silence of the outside world, compared to the chaos happening inside the bar was almost suffocating, but somehow comforting. You wrapped your jacket around yourself, even though your body was on fire. Maybe you were just trying to shield yourself from the feelings you had towards Nicholas, maybe you just hoped it'd all go away if you hid behind the oversize jacket. Without a second thought, you took the cigarette pack out of your pocket, lighting one up, watching as it got damp due to the — now harder — rain.

"You're pretty", you thought you heart him mumble just as you poured milk into the bowl, glancing at the recipe in order to get everything right. You froze mid-mixing the dough, breath caught in your throat, the music softly blasting in the background long forgotten. Nicholas stood by your side, leaning against the counter, watching you more than actually helping — just as he always did. His attentive eyes bore into the side of your face shamelessly, and you sent him a quick glance, small smirk tugging on the corner of your lips as you processed his words.

"Sure", you replied simply, chuckling to yourself, even though you could hear your heart pound in your throat. "I'm sure you say that to every girl you hang out with".

It was Nicholas' time to chuckle. He shifted, leaning forward to look over your shoulder, his eyes following you mixing the dough in the small bowl. Your attempts to stop the trembling of your hands were useless as the spoon slipped out of your grasp, falling onto the floor with a defeating bang.

"Easy there, love", he teased, leaning down to grab it for you, leaving a soft peck on your thigh as he did. An unwanted shiver run down your spine, and you found yourself turning your head to look at him as he straightened his posture, towering over you. "I don't. You're the only one I call pretty".

You gulped as Nicholas met your gaze, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he studied your nervous expression. You couldn't help the heat that spread across your body at his words, and you smiled, a hint of shyness in your expression — and he noticed immediately. He always did.

Without another word, he handed you the spoon, and you nodded in quiet "thanks", your gaze dropping to his lips for a second before you went back to mixing the dough.

You had hoped he couldn't feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y'know", Nicholas continued casually, his hands founding place on your hips as if they belonged there. You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, instinctively leaning back against his chest. "We should go out sometime. There's this nice restaurant on the other side of town — I think you'd like it".

You gulped, trying your hardest to seem relaxed, but you could feel your muscles clenching, your mouth feeling dryer than usual. Yet you couldn't help the warmth that spread across your stomach. Was he...?

"Are you asking me out on a date?", you chuckled, turning around in his grasp, tilting your head so that you could have a look at him. He was so much taller than you, so much bigger — and you wondered if it wasn't one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place. With your hands on Nicholas' chest, playing with the collar of his black t-shirt, you could feel his heart pound against your palms.

Nicholas laughed, although it sounded strained, almost forced, his grip on you tightening for a spare second. "Nah. I don't do this shit anymore. Just thought it would be nice to take you there".

With a hint of hesitation, you met his gaze, your smile dropping almost in time with your heart sinking in your chest. You bit the inside of your mouth, desperately trying not to show how much his words affected you — but they did. And he noticed. Sometimes you felt as if he knew you better than you knew yourself, looking right through you as if you were invisible. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you in such ways. You hated yourself for holding your heart out on your sleeve, and you hated him for breaking it again, again... and again.

"Um... yeah. I don't know. You might as well take someone else", you whispered, fixing the wrinkles on his shirt before slipping out of his grasp, turning away without another word. Your throat felt dry, and you struggled to keep your composure, feeling as if you were punched in the gut.

Were you overreacting? Maybe. Were you still hoping he might feel the same way and was just really, really good at hiding it? Definitely.

"I don't want to go with anyone else", he urged, trying to get closer to you again, the warmth of his body surrounding you, almost suffocating now. Although his words made your heart race, blush creeping up onto your face, you didn't let him get any closer. You knew his touch would hurt. And you knew you couldn't allow him to hurt you anymore.

"Nicholas, I can't do this", you mumbled. Not once had he seen you cry — and you weren't going to let him. Your voice was confident, not shaking even once, as you turned towards him, your hard gaze unfaltering, even though his disappointed expression made your heart break just a little. "You're crossing a line. Weren't you the one who made those stupid rules? Weren't you the one who wanted— wanted for it to be nothing more than a good fuck once in a while? Look what's happening to us", you babbled, even though with every word you said, your heart sunk deeper into your chest. It hurt to say it out loud, but you had to face the truth — you crossed a line. Maybe it was all fun and games to him, but it wasn't to you. Not anymore.

Nicholas seemed to be taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped back, as if being this close to you caused him physical pain.

He stayed quiet for a while. You could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the kitchen as you watched him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"You're right. We shouldn't", he nodded, meeting your gaze with a hint of hesitation. "Which doesn't mean I'm gonna stop kissing you. It's the one rule I want to keep on breaking— If you let me".

You let a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, your eyes softening. Nicholas, noticing the change in your expression, stepped closer again, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter, his hands finding place on your cheeks, as if they belonged there.

"I'd rather die than to stop kissing you", he whispered, pushing a strand of your untamed hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched, and you clutched his shirt between your fingers, as if to ground yourself to the moment.

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you'd grown to love him, how safe you felt in his arms, how you wanted to be something more than just a friend to him. But you didn't. Instead, you stepped on your tiptoes to press a soft, loving peck to his lips, hoping it'd say what you didn't dare to.

You let the smoke leave your mouth, watching it swirl in the air only to dissipate seconds later. The rain was now pouring down from the sky, and you wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. You shivered, hugging yourself tighter, not even caring about the dampness of your clothes and the raindrops falling down your forehead, messing up your perfectly done makeup.

The sound of the door creaking open caught you off guard — not so many people knew about the backside of the bar, and you'd hoped it would stay this way. You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing in hopes to catch a glimpse of the person that had, unknowingly, disturbed the one moment of peace you had in a long time. The last person you'd expect to see, though, was Nicholas. He looked stupidly handsome in a black, skin-tight shirt, worn out jeans and some white sneakers, and you hated him for it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realised he wasn't alone.

A loud, annoyingly sweet and high-pitched laugh echoed through the silence, along with the already familiar clicking of the girl's heels against the concrete pavement. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn't notice you; God, how badly you wished you could become invisible for a moment. You blinked rapidly, keeping your composure, even though you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. With narrowed eyes, you looked her up and down, almost rolling them as you noticed her leaning against Nicholas' shoulder for balance as she kept on giggling. She was completely drunk, but Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed sober. His hand rested on her waist, slowly guiding her down the steps, keeping quiet as she tripped over her feet clumsily, laughing loudly. The urge to roll your eyes was too strong, now, as you balled up against the wall, partially trying to hide under your jacket, your knees pulled to your chest, your knuckles turning white as you gripped on the wet ground beneath you.

As they got closer, you couldn't help but feel your heart race, knowing there was nowhere to hide. You sighed, hastily taking a puff of your cigarette, losing count of how many you've already smoked. You had hoped he wouldn't notice you through the wall of rain, that he'd walk past you as if you didn't exist. You shifted on the ground, your head dropping back against the wall as you stared up at the clouded sky, exhaling the smoke into the damp air. You tried your best to seem relaxed, but you couldn't help the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — your breathing getting heavier the closer they got.

The world seemed to stop spinning for a second when you met Nicholas' gaze. Surprise was written all over his face, replaced by concern as soon as he realised you were soaking wet, out in the open rain. You smacked your glossy lips together, your eyes falling to the ground as you heard him approach you with a few, long steps.

"Y/N? What— what are you doing here?", he said softly, crouching down next to you, forgetting about the girl he left with. You didn't look at him right away; you knew you couldn't. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you took a puff of your cigarette, staring at the ground blankly — wishing a black hole would come crashing down and swallow you whole.

"Hey, are you okay? Wanna go in—".

"I'm fine, Nicholas", you interrupted mid sentence, finally finding courage to look him in the eyes. His brows were slightly furrowed, concern written all over his face as he carefully studied you, gulping. You had never called him Nicholas before. It was always Nic, Nico, or even Chavez if you were being playful. The sound of his full name falling from your lips was so unfamiliar, it sent shivers down his spine. You took a deep breath, stubbing the remains of your cigarette out slowly. "Don't keep your company waiting".

For a second, he seemed confused, as if he forgot about the person he left with in the first place. He turned his head, watching the girl as she sat on the bench, swinging her legs in the air happily, mumbling nonsense. You rolled your eyes and snarled, moving to get up from the ground — your ass felt sore, you were soaked, and you wanted to get Nicholas out of your sight as soon as possible.

"I'm just driving her home", he explained, stepping closer towards you as you hastily stood up, wrapping your jacket tighter around you.

"Nicholas, I don't care", the coldness again. "It's certainly none of my concern. You seemed to be pretty close, though", you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head.

"It's not like that", he groaned, quickly getting irritated at the indifference in your voice and in your eyes. You bit back a sigh, instead rolling your eyes, fixing your damp hair in hopes to tame it, make yourself look better than you felt. "Let me drive you home. We can talk about it, yeah?".

You found yourself shaking your head before he could even finish the sentence, taking a step back to put some distance between the two of you. Nicholas couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your soaked form, how absolutely beautiful you looked, even when drenched in the open rain.

"No, Nicholas. It's better if I go on my own", you stepped back when he tried to reach for you, as if his touch would set you on fire. "We—", you pointed your finger towards him and then you again, "we don't work. We're done. You hear me? I— I can't".

You hated the way your voice trembled, but you were sure of what you wanted. You knew you couldn't have it, and no matter how much it hurt, you had to protect your heart. Maybe it was too late, though — when you looked into his eyes, wide and pleading, as if asking you not to let go — you weren't so sure you could.

"What do you mean 'we're done'?", he asked carefully, running a hand through his messy locks, staring at you like a lost puppy.

"I meant exactly that. You're fucking kissing another girl in there and— you broke the fucking rule. The one that was so fucking important to you in the first place!", you snarled, barely able to control your anger and sorrow anymore. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, and you took a deep, painful breath, leaning back against the wall in hopes to calm yourself down.

He knew you were serious. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you carried yourself tonight. And he wanted to slam his head against the wall, because he did all of this to get your attention. Maybe he had expected you to end up tangled in his sheets after a mind-blowing make up sex — but he didn't expect you to give up on him. To give up on what you had.

"It's not like that, Y/N, just—".

"Fucking stop it, Nicholas!", you hissed, taking a step forward, tugging at the hem of your dress to pull it down your thighs. "I meant it. I— I'm fucking tired. Exhausted, even", you laughed, although you weren't amused. "I don't want to be one of your girls. It hurts".

You didn't wait for him to reply; you couldn't even look at him. Instead, you turned around, quickly disappearing in the thick rain that continued to pour from the dark sky.

He didn't come after you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ♡

For the next week, you didn't see him.

Not that you wanted to — but the emptiness in your heart only deepened the more days passed by. You tried to get yourself busy, manoeuvring between work and taking extra assignments and getting with your friends in the weekends. No matter how hard you tried, though, the thought of him always lingered in the back of your mind.

It was Saturday evening, and you were getting ready to go out with your friends. You finished off your makeup by putting a lipgloss on, smacking your lips together to spread it evenly. You couldn't help but feel your stomach hurl with excitement at the thought of going out, maybe meeting someone new, forgetting everything for a night.

As you stared out of your window and admired the panorama of New York, constantly living and breathing, you felt smaller than ever. The weight on your heart seemed to follow you everywhere, even if you tried to leave it in your pocket for just a few hours. You caught your own reflection in the thick glass, and you didn't even recognise who you were anymore. Maybe falling for Nicholas was the worst mistake you've ever made, but you couldn't deny he made you feel more alive than ever.

The tight, black, backless top you wore clung to your figure in the best way possible, your perky nipples just barely visible from underneath the thick material. Your thighs were almost fully exposed, a simple, black skirt ending just below your ass — it was so out of your comfort zone, but somehow, it made you feel better. Maybe you wanted to prove to everyone, including yourself, that you weren't thinking about him, that you got over the whole mess he'd recently put you through. You sighed heavily, looking out of the window as if the answers for all your doubts were written in the sky.

You fixed your hair, patiently waiting for the right time to leave. It was only beginning to get dark, the sunset creeping into the room casting golden shadows over your face. You couldn't help but wonder what Nicholas was up to — as you stared at the horizon, your hand wandered to the phone laying on your vanity. Maybe you had expected to see a message from him, a missed call; anything that would signal he still cared. Disappointment bloomed in your stomach when you were met with a few messages from your friends, a notification from Instagram and a reminder to take your daily dose of medicine. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, throwing the phone onto your bed before you shuffled towards the door.

A sudden, annoyingly loud sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. You hadn't expected any visitors tonight, neither were you waiting for a package or a letter. You could feel a lump in your throat as your feet moved on their own, guiding you towards the door slowly but surely. The feeling of uneasiness seemed to bloom in your stomach, as if you knew — or maybe, expected — exactly who was waiting at the door. The doorbell rang again, cutting through the silence like a knife, and you froze, your hand towering over the door handle.

You cursed the building's owner for not putting a viewfinder in the doors.

You turned the lock, wincing when your keychain rustled loudly, as if to inform the person on the other side that you were, indeed, home. You couldn't hide even if you wanted to, now — so, without a second thought, you opened the door.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Nicholas. You cursed him for looking so stupidly good as you hastily looked him up and down. You sent him a glare, not saying a word, because... truthfully, there was nothing to say anymore. His gaze lingered on your boobs for a second longer than appropriate, before moving down, focusing on your exposed legs instead. He leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing between you changed.

"Going somewhere?", he mocked, inviting himself in, taking off his leather jacket as he went. The intoxicating smell of his cologne filled the room, wrapping around you like a comfortingly familiar blanket. You bit the inside of your mouth, not quite sure what to do, although you could feel your stomach tighten at his mere presence alone. Absolutely fucking pathetic.

"What are you doing here?", you asked carefully, keeping a safe distance as he entered your kitchen, moving around as if he owned the place. Nicholas didn't answer right away — instead he took a cup from the cupboard, pouring himself some orange juice, his movements slow and deliberate. You felt your cheeks heat up; his arrogant carelessness making annoyance bloom low in your stomach. "I said we're fucking done, Nicholas. Why do you act like a fucking child? Why the fuck are you even here?".

He leaned against the kitchen counter, clearly indifferent to your anger. A small smirk played on his lips as he took a small sip of the juice, tapping his fingers against the countertop. Your gaze lingered on his hand for longer than necessary, but your expression stayed neutral, your arms crossed on your chest as if to protect yourself from his effortless charm.

"This is good— Where'd you buy it?", Nicholas asked, clearly unbothered by the glares you sent his way. You rolled your eyes; the barely concealed anger began to overcome you, and you clenched your fists in order to calm the storm going on in your head.

"It's a fucking orange juice", you muttered, shaking your head, your eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. "Why are we having this conversation right now, I mean— Are you for fucking real?" you stuttered, irritated but not quite sure what to do, how to get rid of him. "Nicholas, go away. I've got somewhere to be".

He met your gaze, and for the first time that night, he wasn't wearing that arrogant smirk, his expression dropping a little as he carefully studied you. As much as you felt confident about the way you looked, you couldn't help but sink into the ground as his dark gaze lingered on your legs for longer than needed. Nicholas raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was judging your choice of clothing, a mocking, playful smile making its way onto his lips.

"I'm sure your girlfriends will be fine", he licked his lips, putting the — now empty — cup in the sink before walking off in the direction of your room nonchalantly.

You had no other choice but to follow, your feet shuffling against the wooden floor agonisingly slow as you stared at his back blankly. And you absolutely hated the way your heart fluttered at the sight of his muscles clenching as he walked.

"Yeah, they will. I'm not going out with them", you rasped, feeling a lump starting to form in your throat as you walked past Nicholas, plopping on your bed — just now realising he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on fixing the crinkles on your fluffy blanket. You saw Nicholas move from the corner of your eye; his brown, attentive eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

"Then who are going out with?", he asked slowly and lowly, curious yet scared of the answer. His tone left you no choice but to look at him sheepishly, fluttering your lashes as you bit the inside of your mouth. You knew exactly where this was going, and it meant one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"I'm meeting someone, Nicholas. It's none of your concern anyway, so I'd appreciate it if you—".

"No. You're not doing that", Nicholas chuckled, although there was no humour in his tone at all — his voice an almost animalistic hiss, dripping with venom. You rose up to your feet, anger and annoyance blooming in your chest as you let his words sink in. You sent him a glare, just now noticing how dark his eyes became. He was breathing heavily, leaning against the doorframe, trapping you inside, giving you no choice but to stay where you were.

You turned on your feet, walking to the window only to stare at the New York panorama; you could practically hear the roar of the city through the thin glass, making your heart ache with longing. It was supposed to be a fun night — you were supposed to forget about him, just for one night, maybe meet someone new. Yet there he was, trapping you inside your own apartment as if you were a prisoner.

"How comes you tell me what to fucking do?", you snapped, turning around only to face him again. You couldn't control your anger anymore, not even if you tried — his arrogant smirk only spurring you on, causing you to close the distance between you in a few, big steps.

"I just want you to fucking leave me alone. I don't want to see you, I don't want to listen to anything you say. You can go back to being a man whore now — don't let me hold you back anymore", you snarled, pushing him back in hopes to get him to listen, just for once. Your breath was heavy as you watched Nicholas straighten his posture, pushing himself off the wall swiftly. His smirk vanished, and so did your confidence as he towered over you, almost making you feel nauseous. You swallowed hard, instinctively taking a step back to increase the distance between you, your face feeling stiff as you watched his dangerous expression.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that", he hissed, his tone leaving you no room to protest. Your throat felt dry as you chuckled lowly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Big, dangerous Nicholas. All you do is fucking talk", you chuckled again, one of your hands moving up only to tap his cheek lightly, as if he was a little boy. Your voice was sharp, but there was a light edge to it — a challenge. Nicholas' gaze dropped to your lips, his jaw tight as he watched an amused smirk appear on your face. "You're a fucking asshole, and I want nothing to do with you. You had already made your choice. Now, get the fuck out".

He didn't move. Neither did you. You'd wondered what he'd do next — if he'd listen to you, just this one time, or if he'd kill you right on the spot. The anticipation made your heart race, your hands shaking nervously, arms falling limp by your sides.

Just as you were about to move, to break the thick silence by shuffling to the door, Nicholas hand clamped down on your neck, cutting your airflow in one, swift movement.

You gasped when you met his gaze — his pupils completely blown out, swallowing the darkness of his irises; brows furrowed as he studied your face, the corner of his mouth turning up at the look of fear on your face. He really did find the whole situation amusing, meanwhile you struggled against him, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip he had on you.

"Say that again", he hissed lowly, leaning down so that he could be face to face with you. His eyes remained serious, although a small smirk made its way onto his face as he watched you wince and grip his forearm in order to free yourself. You knew Nicholas would never hurt you, but the way he looked at you sent shiver down your spine. The feelings you tried to bury deep inside your heart came flooding back — no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't shake them.

You took a shallow breath, gulping audibly when Nicholas brought you closer by your neck, his lips now millimetres away from yours. He tilted his head, studying your face as if he could see right through you — as if he could sense the longing for him that you so desperately tried to hide. His eyes remained cold, and you felt his hot breath against your cheek, your face growing warmer with each passing second.

"I fucking hate you", you spat, your voice strangled due to the pressure his hand put on your neck. The more you said it, the less you believed that's how you truly felt. Your words were filled with venom, but there was also an unmistakable crack to your voice that defeated you. A small chuckle erupted from Nicholas' chest — and you knew you had already lost the battle you unknowingly fought in your head.

"Mhm. And you aren't... jealous of me? You didn't look so happy about my little company last weekend", he snarled, letting go of your neck only to bring you closer by your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin with unspoken possessiveness. You took a deep breath, your hands rubbing the sore skin he just let go of, your eyes squinting as a soft laugh escaped your parted lips. You shook your head. The audacity of men.

"What do you want me to say? It was not a part of the deal. You broke the rules of our little arrangement, but when it comes to me seeing other people, suddenly it's a problem?", you snapped, putting your hands on his chest to at least put some distance between the two of you. You weren't sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Nicholas?".

For a second, it seemed as if he was speechless. His mouth opened and closed as if he was a god damn fish — words dying in his throat as he watched you with an unfaltering expression. You huffed, pushing him back until his hands fell from your hips to stupidly swing by his sides. "You're pathetic. Get out. I won't repeat myself".

Your throat burned with the things you wanted to say — how much you hated him for how he played you; how badly he hurt you; how madly you've fallen for him. Instead, you just watched as he took a deep breath, collecting himself, his gaze lowering to the ground as if he wasn't sure what to say.

After a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, you heard him shuffle towards the door. Your heart ached, and you weren't quite sure why — you wanted him to leave. He listened to you, just for once, and for some reason, all you wanted to do was yell: "stay". You mindlessly toyed with your fingers, watching as his hand towered over the doorknob, hesitating just for a second.

"I don't share".

Nicholas' voice came out as barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the gravelly silence, you wouldn't even catch it. Your eyes almost fell out of your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the room — you were almost convinced Nicholas could, too.

"W-what?", your voice came out an octave higher than you'd anticipated, making you want to slam your head against the wall. You watched Nicholas' back as he stood still, his head tilting just slightly to give you a side-eyed look.

"You heard me", he growled, much louder this time, before slowly turning towards you, as if you were his prey. His gaze landed on you, confident and serious, catching you off guard. You momentarily forgotten about every insult you wanted to call him — your hands clutched in fists by your sides, the all-familiar heat filling your stomach as it hurled with need. "You are not going to see anyone else. You're mine, whether you like it or not".

You blinked slowly, watching as Nicholas got closer again. The room suddenly got smaller, the air around you thicker. Your head shot up as he towered over you, giving you no room to protest before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You wanted to protest — hit him, slap him in the face, get a reaction out of him; humiliate him just as he did you so many times. Yet all you could do was stand there, your feet planted into the floor, and you couldn't move; couldn't react. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your heart beating out of your chest as you obeyed him; what other choice did you have? Lying to yourself was much better than facing the undeniable truth — you wanted this. You wanted to get a reaction out of him, to provoke him, watch him break and fight for whatever you two had. And, based on the way he pulled you closer by your hips, pressing against you as if he didn't want to let go — it definitely worked.

You desperately kissed him back, unable to hide what you truly wanted no more — your hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands with a little too much force than you anticipated. You felt Nicholas' mocking smile against your lips, a soft groan that you oh, missed so dearly leaving his mouth when he felt the harsh sting on his scalp. The pain only seemed to fuel him further, his fingers digging into your waist as if he wanted to leave bruises there — claiming you as his for anyone else to see. Your breaths mingled together, short and shallow, as you devoured each other as if it was the last thing you were going to do. Your mouth parted in an involuntary moan when Nicholas pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, his greedy touch hurriedly backing you against the window.

As soon as your bare back made contact with the cool glass, a shiver ran down your spine — an involuntary squeak leaving your throat, being swallowed by his greedy lips on yours. Nicholas wouldn't let you breathe, putting all of his gathered anger, annoyance and lust into the kiss, making sure you could feel him all over you.

"You drive me fucking insane", he breathed out, slipping his knee between your legs just as his lips began to travel down your throat, biting the sensitive skin there, soothing the pain with his tongue immediately after. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolling back into your head, your nails raking through his messy curls to ground yourself in any way you could. "Still hate me?".

You let out a breathless chuckle that quickly turned into a moan — Nicholas' breath tickled your collarbone, his mouth working on your sensitive skin as if he couldn't get enough.

"More than ever", you choked out, pulling his head up so that you could reconnect your lips, already missing the addicting taste of his mouth. Your tongue parted his lips, and Nicholas groaned lowly, the sound bubbling in his throat as he greedily kissed you back. No matter how hard you tried to keep your guard up, to push him away and slap him across his stupidly handsome face — you couldn't bring yourself to do so. Maybe it was the way his hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing your skin as if he was scared you'd slip away; or maybe it was the smell, taste, warmth of him on your body. There was no denying he was the only one that could make you feel this good — and he barely even started.

So you allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

One of Nicholas' hands travelled all over your side, lifting the hem of your little top as it moved up your stomach slowly, teasingly. His long, thick fingers brushed against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, shiver running down your spine. Nicholas reached the bottom of your bare boobs, and a deep groan left his mouth when you arched into his touch.

"No bra?", he chuckled lowly, pulling away to look into your eyes. "You're such a slut. You were ready to jump into a random guy's bed, weren't you?".

You were unable to reply. Anger bubbled in your chest, your cheeks growing warm as you sent him a glare through your lashes.

"Says you. A literal definition of a man whore", you rolled your eyes, your nails raking down his shirt—covered chest. Nicholas' eyes hardened as he stared down at you, his hand on your hip tightening in an almost painful grip. His nails dig into your skin as he pulled you closer, his other hand pulling on the hem of your shirt to lift it up; your boobs spilling out of the tight fabric almost immediately.

You gasped when your overheated skin got exposed to the cold air. Your nipples hardened under Nicholas' dark eyes, and you watched as he run his tongue along his bottom lip, clearly impressed by the reaction he managed to get out of you. You fought the urge to wet your lips as you watched him, anticipation blooming deep in your stomach.

Nicholas' breath tickled your lips as he finally met your gaze again. He smirked down at you, somehow pressing you harder against the cool glass, the grip he had on your hip unforgiving.

"Yet you keep on coming back. Why the fuck do you keep on coming back?", he groaned against your lips, his hand finally meeting the soft skin of your breast. Nicholas watched as your back arched off the glass, your eyes threatening to close as he squeezed your boob harshly, the feeling of his palm against your nipple heavenly.

You stifled a whine that wanted to erupt from your throat. Instead, you gripped Nicholas' broad shoulders — your long, manicured nails digging into his skin as you desperately tried to maintain your composure. Your mouth parted, and a prolonged, desperate breath left you before you could stop it.

"I don't know", you swallowed loudly; your lips brushed against Nicholas' as you spoke, his eyes melting into yours with intensity that left you breathless. He chuckled, tilting his head slightly; a playful, teasing smile played on his lips as he tugged on your nipple with his forefinger and thumb, catching you off guard. You moaned, your whole body reacting to his all-too-familiar touch as a shiver run down your spine. Nicholas cursed under his breath, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as he carefully studied your face.

"You're not a good liar. Just admit it. You know I can make you feel better than anyone. You know you're mine. You know I'm yours, baby".

You let out a shaky breath you didn't realise you were holding, your eyes locking with his — the weight of the unspoken words heaved on your shoulders, making it impossible for you to think straight. You let your head fall back against the window as you desperately tried to put some distance between the two of you. The hand playing with your breast moved down your body, reaching the bottom of your thigh before he hooked your leg around his waist.

"Nicholas—", you choked out, your lashes fluttering as you looked up at him, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. He hummed lowly, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh before his hand slipped under the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me to leave, and I will", he whispered, his fingertips gently rubbing against your sensitive inner-thigh, once again making you gulp. "Say it, Y/N. What do you want?".

Nicholas shifted closer, his face now inches away from yours, his eyes boring into yours with intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat. You knew you should tell him to leave, to make him feel like he made you plenty of times before. Your voice died in your throat, and before you knew it, you were kissing him again.

You were tired of acting like you didn't want him. You were tired of the sleepless nights you spent thinking about this exact moment. Your hands moved down Nicholas' chest, slipping under his shirt to brush against his well-defined stomach. Your leg against his waist tightened, and so did Nicholas' grip on your thigh as he groaned into your mouth, his hips tightly pressed against your inner thigh.

"I want you, Nic. All of you. I want it so fucking bad it hurts", you breathed into his mouth before sucking his bottom lip lewdly, your hips rocking against his thigh securely pressed between your legs. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, silently asking Nicholas to take it off, and he obeyed. You barely broke the kiss as he lifted it over his head, throwing it onto the floor carelessly. You could feel the hardness of his erection press against your bare skin, the rough material of his jeans grinding against your thigh.

"Then take me", he groaned into your mouth, his voice filled with urgency. His hips snapped forward, experimentally grinding into your thigh, letting you feel just how ready he was for you. You mewled like a frightened kitten, the adrenaline pumping in your veins, your heart feeling as if it could jump out of your chest. Your body betrayed how you truly felt, your pelvis snapping towards Nicholas, as if you couldn't bare being away from him. "Claim me as yours for everyone else to see".

Your head was spinning, and his words didn't help with the burning sensation spreading across your stomach. The closer Nicholas' hand got to your clothed centre, the more your back arched off the window, your erect nipples rubbing against his bare chest. More moans slipped past your lips, and you didn't hold them back — you couldn't, even if you tried. With the little strength you had left, you pushed him back, leaving him no choice but to fall on your bed. It creaked in protest at Nicholas' weight, but he only chuckled, eyeing you up and down hungrily. He leaned back on his elbows, his feet dangling off the mattress as he patiently waited for your next move. His obedience was surprising — but not unpleasant. With a newfound confidence, you made your way towards him, your hair falling over your shoulders in a way that had Nicholas' breath hitch. His pupils were dilated, chest heaving as he inhaled sharply, watching you with a lopsided smile.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled your top over your head, throwing it onto the ground, standing by the side of the bed now half-naked. A shiver run down your spine as Nicholas sat up, his face now centimetres away from your chest, his dark eyes staring up at you intensely.

"Take this off", he ordered, pointing towards your little skirt, his tone leaving no room to protest; not that you wanted to. Your hands were shaky as you hastily reached for the waistband of your skirt, looking down at him for approval — it was incredible how much power he held over you, even when you were on top, standing before him; towering over him. Slowly, you tugged on the zipper, feeling the fabric loosen against your waist before falling to the floor with a soft thump. Your heart raced in your chest as you stepped out of the skirt, leaving you almost fully exposed before Nicholas' hungry eyes.

In an instant, his hands were on you, as if he couldn't bare not touching you for a second longer. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, your knees buckling as Nicholas' hands found place on your thighs, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed down your body, taking in every single detail, that, in his eyes, made you perfect. He eyed the skimpy, black thong that covered your most intimate part, his eyes glimmering in the dim light, as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"You're so fucking hot", he groaned, tugging on the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap against your skin. You hissed, grounding yourself with your hands on his chiselled shoulders, uncontrollably moving closer towards him.

"Those fucking tits of yours," Nicholas groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, his hands moving down your sides only to rest on your hips. He licked his lips; his dark, penetrative eyes gazed right back at you, causing your chest to heave with uneven breaths. "They're perfect. You're perfect. And all mine, aren't you?" he growled, not once looking away from you as his tongue darted out, swirling around your left nipple with undeniable precision. You threw your head back, your back arching into his mouth, hearing Nicholas groan into your flesh. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you plush against him as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he wanted to lose himself completely in you. He kissed the valley between your boobs, biting the sensitive skin there, his attentive eyes following your every reaction.

"Yours— All yours, Nick", you whined, words dying in your throat as his hands travelled down your back, over the curve of your ass, squeezing your buttcheeks roughly, pushing your pelvis towards him.

His nails dig into your skin, making you let out an involuntary moan, your fingers raking through his hair, toying with the soft strands.

"That's my girl", Nicholas' voice was filled with pride, and a prolonged sigh left his mouth, as if this moment was everything he dreamed about. His eyes looked up at you, filled with raw need, his pupils completely blown out, swallowing his irises fully. You gulped at the praise, looking down at him with flushed cheeks and pounding heart. Nicholas licked a long stripe up your sternum, leaving your skin burning and glistening under his hungry gaze.

Slowly and deliberately, his hands moved up and down your sides, caressing your soft skin with an almost gentle care, as if he tried to memorise how your flesh felt against his fingertips. His lips moved down your body, lingering on your ribs, leaving pecks as he went. The occasional glide of his tongue against your skin left you trembling, your knees bucking under the immerse pleasure as they hit the bed frame. Nicholas' big hands kept you upright, guiding you to straddle his lap, and you obediently did so. With your legs now on both sides of his thick thighs and with the flames licking your insides, you tugged on Nicholas' hair, tilting his head towards you, meeting his gaze with a small smile. His eyes were half-lidded, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, the sting on his scalp only adding to his arousal. You could feel his cock press into your clothed centre, straining against his pants, practically begging to be freed. With a sly smile, you tested the waters, grinding your hips back and fourth against him, causing a small whine to escape from his throat.

"You're mine", you murmured, brushing your lips against his; just enough to feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes locking with yours as he nodded. You tutted, tugging on his strands tighter, "Nuh-uh. Not good enough. Say it".

Your voice left no room to protest. Nicholas gulped, his hands grounding you on his erection, pushing you down with enough force to make you hum. "I'm all yours, Y/N. Always had been", he inhaled sharply, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway. The connection between you was almost palpable, knocking the breath out of your lungs, causing your chest to heave with every sharp intake of breath. You've never felt more alive than then; on Nicholas' lap, with his attentive eyes on your face like you were the only one that mattered. You scratched the soft skin behind his ears, your thumbs rubbing soft circles onto his cheeks as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, you took things slow, savouring the taste of him on the tip of your tongue, feeling his hands on your ass, guiding you to rut against his clothed arousal. Your moans were breathless and swallowed by Nicholas' mouth as he eagerly swirled his tongue around yours, one of his indecisive hands travelling up your back to tangle in your hair.

You were right where you were supposed to.

"Fuck me", Nicholas chuckled lowly as you pulled away, moving down to nib and kiss his defined jaw, feeling his soft stubble scratch your skin as you did. You grinned against his skin, pushing him down to make him lay flat on the bed, and he obeyed, taking you with him as he went. Your hair fell on your face as you towered over him, your palms flat on both sides of his head. Slowly and sensually, you leaned down, pushing your hair out of the way to press a lingering kiss on the side of Nicholas' neck. He groaned — the sound vibrated against your lips as you licked a stripe up his throat, biting the sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew made him squirm each time. Nicholas' hands guided you, pressing you flat against his chest with a tight grip on your ass, his hips snapping upwards in search of any kind of friction he could get. Your appreciative hums were muffled by his skin as you sucked, bit and kissed on every inch you could reach, slowly moving down towards his chest.

"Mark me up for everyone to see", Nicholas choked out, his grip on your ass almost painful, now, as he used it for leverage to grind his cock into your pussy. You moaned shamelessly at his words, feeling fireworks erupt in your stomach as the adrenaline took over. You flicked your tongue against his prominent collarbone, sucking hickeys into his tan skin, pressing kisses on every beauty mark adorning his chest you could find.

By the time you were satisfied with your work, Nicholas was a groaning mess underneath you. His spit-covered skin glistened under the city lights creeping into the room, the contours of his face even more prominent now. Purple marks adorned the sides of his neck, collarbones and the column of his throat — you felt a rush of joy fill your heart at the sight. The thought of him being so obviously marked by you made your heart race, and, with a satisfied smile, you gently run your fingertips over the love bites you left just below Nicholas' collarbone.

"Beautiful", you mumbled, tilting your head slightly, watching as a wide, dazed smile made its way onto Nicholas' face. You felt him throb underneath you, his patience slipping with every second; and, just as you thought about how good he was doing under your control, he flipped you over.

Your back hit the soft mattress, Nicholas' face inches away from yours as he crawled in between your legs, spreading them wider on both sides of his defined hips. His hands slowly travelled up your body, memorising each curve of your body; unrelenting gaze following every reaction he managed to get out of you. The feeling of his breath against your lips made you dizzy, and your back arched off the mattress in desperate search of friction that he wasn't granting you. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, and you clawed on his defined shoulders as his fingers towered over the waistband of your thong, just barely brushing over your sensitive skin.

An uninvited shudder ran down your spine as you met Nicholas' gaze again. He slid the thong down your legs, slowly, delicately, almost as if he was afraid he'd break you if he pressed too hard. Nicholas chuckled lowly, throwing your damp underwear on the floor with a little care, leaning back to look at your — now exposed — pussy.

One of his hands reached up, cupping your breast for a second, long enough to make you arch against him, before it moved up, wrapping around your throat. Nicholas' grip was firm and tight enough to make you deliciously lightheaded, and you gasped, feeling a strong sting on the side of your ass.

"Such a dirty fuckin' girl. You're soaking", he cooed, the previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found. All you could see was the all consuming darkness and lust, drifting just below the surface, ready to be freed. "You've been dying to have my cock inside you, weren't you?".

You tried your best to nod, but it was nearly impossible when he pressed his thumb against your pulse point, sending you a dirty, open-mouthed smirk that made your stomach hurl. Another spank against the side of your ass, and your legs were tightening around Nicholas' hips, your own grinding into the air in search of any kind of relief.

He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. Your jaw was slack, every muscle in your body tense as you waited, obediently leaning down against the pillows, your limp arms falling on both sides of your head.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?", he asked, grinning when you tried to nod again, his grip on your throat tightening just barely. White dots erupted in front of your eyes, your chest tightening due to the lack of air in your lungs, feeling as if you could pass out any second now. With the last ounce of power you had, you gripped Nicholas' forearm, your nails digging into his skin with enough force to leave marks. Your pussy clenched around nothing, practically begging to be touched, to be taken care of, your body now shaking in Nicholas' tight grasp.

You gasped abruptly as his hand loosened around your throat, finally giving you room to breathe. Instead, it travelled down your body, exploring every inch, every curve. Nicholas leaned down again just as his fingers brushed over your pussy — the touch feather-like, but enough to make you rasp for more.

"Nick", you choked out, reaching out for him, raking your nails down his back. Nicholas' other arm was outstretched beside your head, keeping him upright as he towered over you, once again leaning down to barely graze your bottom lip with his teeth. "Shit, I need you. Need you so bad".

Your voice came out strangled, but you didn't care; you weren't afraid to beg him for what you wanted. Any ounce of self-control left you whenever he was close, but you didn't mind. He set your insides on fire like no one else could.

When Nicholas licked his lips, smiling cruelly before pressing the two of his fingers against your clit, all you could do was gasp. He knew exactly what to do with his fingers and how to use them, circling your sensitive bud as if you were the only thing that mattered. He hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue as your jaw dropped, brows furrowing as quiet moans escaped you.

"So wet f'me, fuck", he mused, his lips ghosting over your jaw just as two of his fingers slipped inside your tight hole. You cried out, nails digging into his forearm resting beside your head as it fell back against the sheets. You clenched around his digits as he pushed them as deep as they could go, burying them inside you; curling them upwards to get more sweet moans out of your swollen lips. Your eyes rolled back into your head, chest heaving with uneven breaths as Nicholas' breath tickled your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe teasingly. "So fuckin' tight. Just squeezing my fingers", he chuckled darkly. His voice sent shiver down your spine, and you found yourself reaching for him, your hands roaming over his chest, arms and shoulders as if you couldn't bear being away from him. The feeling of his fingers buried deep within your walls combined with the feeling of Nicholas' hard, muscular body on top of you was almost too much, and you were choking on your breath, almost embarrassed by how quickly he made you lose control.

That's when he started to pump his digits in and out of you, keeping his movements slow and steady, a memorable gasp leaving your throat every time his palm met your stiff clit. Your eyes were wide and glossy, mouth wide agape as you tried to speak, signal how good he made you feel; except that you didn't have to. Nicholas could see it, feel it, God, even hear it. The wet, squelching noise filled the silence as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, hitting that special spot that had you seeing stars, your thighs threatening to close around his forearm.

"Shit, Nick, oh my fucking God", you cried out just as your hips rose off the mattress, bucking into his hand greedily, as if you couldn't get enough. Nicholas chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, his skilled tongue flicking against your collarbone teasingly.

"Yes, baby, you're doing so good f'me", he cooed, mouth moving up your body only to reconnect your lips hastily. You moaned into the kiss, barely able to kiss him back as your stomach tightened; his fingers working in and out of your cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna cum f'me? Wanna soak my fucking hand, hmm? Fucking say it", he growled against your lips, leaning back just enough to wrap his free hand around your neck again. You gasped, barely able to obtain the whimpers that continued to leave your mouth, and you were already there—

"Wanna cum for you, want it s'bad", you choked out, meeting his demanding gaze with a hint of desperation in your own. You clenched down on his fingers, your walls throbbing as you wailed, back arching off the bed. "Shit, shit, shit! Please, let me cum, Nick—".

He smiled cruelly before pulling his fingers out of your tight cunt, your walls clamping down on them as if to prevent him from leaving. You cried out, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as your stomach tightened, hips rising off the mattress in search of his addicting touch again — but to no avail.

"Not quite good enough, baby", he snarled, pulling you up by your neck, positioning you so that you could sit upright, now facing him. Before you could say something, beg him to please let you cum this time, he tapped two of his soaked fingers against your lower lip. "Suck. Let's see if I trained you well".

Your jaw went slack, eyes clouded with lust, and you obeyed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to eagerly lap at his digits, tasting yourself. Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your obedience, pushing his fingers into your mouth, the hand on your neck loosening just slightly. You hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue in between his fingers, bobbing your head the same you'd do if it was his cock in your mouth. Without a second thought and clearly growing impatient, he thrusted all the way in until you choked on his fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat, whimpering and trying your best to breathe through your nose. You looked up at Nicholas through your lashes and you met his gaze, dark and filled with longing so strong it made your heart race.

With a satisfied smile, he pulled out — a string of saliva connecting you to his fingers, and you smacked your lips together, already toying with the waistband of his pants, impatient.

"How'd I do?", you panted, slowly pulling the fabric down Nicholas' legs, along with his black boxers, not once looking away from his face. His thumb brushed against your cheek in an almost loving manner, a gentle, sweet smile adoring his lips. The fire in his gaze made your head spin, and you slowly positioned him to lay down on the bed — and he did, not before throwing his underwear on the floor carelessly.

"Fuckin' perfect. Come on, sit on my face, baby", he groaned, and you couldn't help but bite back a whimper, staring at him all doe-eyed, blinking slowly. You obeyed, crawling up his body until you straddled his hard chest, your pussy clenching and unclenching at the sight underneath you. When you moved higher, he stopped you with a quick flick of his hand. "Nuh-uh. Turn around, baby. You're gonna suck my cock like a fuckin' whore you are, right?".

And so you did, nodding obediently. You clumsily straddled Nicholas' face, falling forward as his tongue licked a stripe from the clit to your tight hole immediately. He didn't wait a second, grabbing your ass tightly to push you down onto his face as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he was starved and you were the only one that could satisfy his hunger. Your hips rocked down onto his face, your shaky hands already reaching out to wrap around his reddened cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it alone.

Nicholas groaned, hips bucking into your face as you hastily run your tongue against his tip, humming when the taste of his salty pre-cum flooded your senses. You took him into your mouth, not hesitating before working down his shaft, costing him in your saliva, your hand stroking the part of him you couldn't put in your mouth yet. Nicholas' needy whines and moans were muffled by your pussy as he squeezed your ass, lazily circling your clit with his tongue, manoeuvring between long, slow licks and quick, steady strokes. Your eyes watered, and it didn't take long to feel your stomach tighten. You abruptly pulled away from his cock, instead focusing on jerking him off the best you could while grinding down onto his face, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oh my fucking— Nick, I'm so close, can I cum f'you, please? Been so good f'you", you choked out as you felt your thighs shake around Nicholas' head, your grip on his cock tightening just enough to make Nicholas groan into your cunt. The vibrations sent a shiver down your spine, and as much as you didn't want to suffocate him, you also couldn't stop the desperate bucking of your hips. Your breaths came out short and ragged, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his tongue teased your clenching, leaking hole, eagerly lapping everything you offered him.

Nicholas pulled back just enough to breathe for a second. One of his hands travelled up your ass, lingering on your back before tangling in your hair, roughly pushing your head down.

"If you wanna cum, you're gonna do it while I fuck your face— how's that sound? Hmm?", he mumbled, and you nodded, eager as ever, already lining his cock up to the level of your lips, your tongue lolling out of your mouth only to dip it into his sensitive slit. A shudder run down your spine when he moaned into you, the hand in your hair tightening just barely to assert his dominance over you. His hips began to buck into your awaiting mouth, and you hummed lowly, wrapping your lips against his thick head, swirling your tongue just the way you knew he liked it. The taste of him, combined with his lips now beginning to continue their assault on your puffy cunt, had you seeing stars in no time. Nicholas flicked his tongue over your little nub just the way he knew you liked it, and you couldn't help but rock your hips in the rhythm of his mouth moving on you. Tears bricked in the corners of your eyes as your throat contracted around his tip, your tongue constantly rubbing against the underside of his cock; his breathy groans from underneath you only spurred you on.

"Cum for me, baby", Nicholas whispered, holding you in place as he bucked into your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head when you swallowed and choked on his impressive length resting in your throat as if it belonged here. His grip on you was tight, bruising, and if it wasn't for the fireworks erupting in your lower belly, you'd probably cry out in pain. Saliva and pre-cum dropped down your chin, but you couldn't care less, as your back arched, hips moving mindlessly against Nicholas' face as much as they could. Your little, pathetic moans and whimpers were muffled by his cock as you came, shaking in Nicholas' tight grip, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent marks in their wake.

It was earth-shattering, and for a moment you thought as if you might've passed out. Nicholas lapped everything you offered him eagerly, overstimulating your already spent pussy as he pressed soft kisses all over your mound. You pulled away from his cock, a string of saliva stretching between your lower lip and the reddened, leaking tip. As much as you wanted to make him cum, too, your whole body protested, and you fell back against the sheets limply. A broken sob escaped your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath, eyes and legs squeezed shut.

Nicholas wasn't having any of it, though. Before you knew it, he slipped in between your legs, his muscular body resting on top of you as if to prevent you from slipping away. One of his hands cradled your face, his thumb brushing against your burning skin in an almost soothing manner. You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark gaze immediately. The intensity between you seemed to grow with each passing second, and you found yourself reaching for him, pulling him down just so that he could kiss you.

You tasted yourself on Nicholas' lips, whimpering into his mouth when his hardness brushed against your lower stomach, big and ever so needy. Your hands were in Nicholas' hair, pulling on the soft strands, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You had no idea how much you missed this, missed him, until he was so close to you again. Your back arched into his body as he moved to lift your thigh up his body, securing it on his waist, his tongue toying with yours in a way that had your head spin.

"Fucking look at you", he rasped lowly, gripping the base of his cock to rub himself up and down your wetness, coating himself in your sweet juices. You clenched around nothing, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the tension in your stomach building up the more time passed. "My needy, perfect girl. You're gonna fucking take it, yeah? I know you will".

You mindlessly nodded, and Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your fucked-up state — and he barely even started. Without a warning, he slipped into your wet, inviting hole, bottoming out almost instantly. He had no patience to take it slow anymore, consumed by the pure need running through his veins. Encouraged by the soft mewl that left your swollen lips, he began pounding into you, pressing one of your legs into the mattress to have you all spread out for him.

"Shit, Nic — God, you're so fucking big", you choked out, your nails digging into Nicholas' chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He met your gaze, sending you his typical, open-mouthed smirk that had your eyes rolling back.

Nicholas grabbed your jaw, forcing you to keep your gaze on him as he adjusted his position, just so that his lower abdomen brushed against your clit every time he bottomed out. Every now and then, he'd stop, grinding his hips against yours to let you feel all of him. You choked on your breath, unable to break the eye contact, your jaw slightly agape as his name left your mouth like a prayer. Your thighs shook where he had you pinned to the bed, your core clenching around him as if to prevent him from leaving. His cock dragged against your walls, and Nicholas made sure you could feel every vein, every throb, every delicious inch of it rearranging your insides. It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to tighten yet again. You sobbed, feeling the saltiness of your own tears lingering in the corner of your lips. Throwing your head back, your hips bucked up to meet Nicholas halfway; your wide, glossy eyes focused on his face — on the way his jaw dropped, brows furrowed, his dark gaze burning into yours with intensity that left you shaking.

"You look s'pretty, drunk on my fucking cock. You're perfect. My perfect girl", Nicholas cooed, groping your boob tightly, pounding into you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy.

And you loved every second of it.

Your bottom lip trembled as you bit on it, desperately trying to conceal the pathetic sounds that threatened to leave your throat with every brutal thrust. Nicholas pinched your nipple between his fingers, throwing his head back and groaning deeply. The sound alone made you gush around him, your orgasm beginning to overtake you, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to hold it even if he asked you to.

"Nick, I'm— Oh, fuck — I'm gonna cum, please, can I cum f'you?", you managed to choke out, pulling him closer, your hands clasping down on his broad shoulders for balance. Nicholas chuckled breathlessly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him twitch against your walls, signalling that he was close as well, holding out just for you.

"Shit, baby, you're gonna make me cum already", he groaned, partially amazed, but not surprised. "You're gonna cum with me, baby— I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, yeah? Oh, you fucking love it", he laughed breathlessly, feeling you clench around him at the promise in his words. It was utterly possessive, the way his voice trembled, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the all familiar edge. And you weren't far behind.

"You're mine. You're fucking mine, baby. I'm never letting you go", he muttered lowly before stilling inside you, making you groan in disappointment. "Turn around".

You obeyed, letting his cock plop out of your cunt for a spare second before you turned around on shaky legs. Nicholas' rough hand pressed on your lower back, arching you for him, your ass now on full display for his greedy eyes. Before you knew it, he was already back inside you, setting a rough, earth-shattering pace that had you clutching on the sheets. A strangled, broken sob left your mouth, and Nicholas moaned lowly, watching the way your backside snapped against his hips with each thrust. With one of his hands on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, Nicholas pulled you flush against him, your back meeting his hard chest. The sound of skin slapping, punctuated by your cries and Nicholas' low groans filled the room, so familiar; so addicting.

"Open your mouth f'me, baby, c'mon", he urged, and you obeyed, your head resting against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, keeping you upright. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you stared up at him, wide eyed, mascara smudged over your flushed cheeks, neck covered with hickeys of his creation. With a throaty groan, he spat in your mouth, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his as he did. "Swallow".

So you did. Your legs trembled as you neared your peak again, your back arching off his chest just as one of his hands travelled down your body, squeezing your left buttock roughly. Nicholas' touch was so addicting; you nearly screamed in pleasure when he spanked you, once, twice, thrice. He made sure to claim you in every way possible, to make sure you'd never look in the direction of another man ever again.

Your orgasm hit you without a warning. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets as you screamed, creaming all over Nicholas' cock, going limp in his grasp. He moaned shamelessly, watching the way your juices created a creamy ring around the base of his cock. The sight alone made his muscles clench, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gripped your hips, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! — Oh my God, yes", he whimpered lowly, bottoming out before letting go; spurts of his hot, sticky cum claiming your walls, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you making you moan into the sheets. You grinded back the best you could, milking him of everything he had to offer, and God — even he could feel how much he filled you up.

Nicholas collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the familiar weight of his body pressing against yours. You were shaking, your breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps, the sheets beneath you soaked with tears that couldn't seem to stop flowing. The weight of your actions rested on your shoulders as you became to come down from the high. You had hoped he wouldn't leave this time — the thought itself made your heart ache, your throat burning with the words you wished you had the courage to say to him.

"Shh. C'mere, baby", Nicholas' soothing voice reached your ear as he kissed the back of your neck softly, his breath tickling your skin. You winced when he slowly pulled out of your drenched hole, not giving you a second to think before he leaned against the headboard, pulling you to lay on his chest. You sniffled, pushing your face into his bicep, inhaling the familiar scent of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't know— I just hoped you'd notice me. It's so complicated, Y/N. I don't want to ruin everything we have".

The words made you sniffle into his skin, pulling him closer as if you didn't want him to leave — and, in fact, it was true. You bit your lip, thinking about everything you've been through together; the longing you felt for him almost making your heart burst.

"I love you, Nick. I love you so bad it hurts. It's okay if you want to leave, I broke a rule, and I didn't—"

"Stop, Y/N. Stop", he interrupted, cradling your cheek softly, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. Your lower lip trembled when Nicholas' thumb rubbed circles into your skin, somehow making your muscles relax against him. "I love you. You hear me? I. Love. You. I want to be with you. Wake up by your side every day, fall asleep with you in my arms. Fuck, I could never want anything more", he whispered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, your jaw dropping as you searched for any kind of hesitation on his face. You didn't find any.

You sniffled again, letting out a relieved sigh; the weight on your heart seemed to finally fall into the dark abyss, replaced with relief so strong it almost made you sob.

"Let me take care of you now", Nicholas whispered, giving you space to rest, let his previous words sink in, smiling down at you with the all familiar warmth — and it felt like home, for the first time in a long time. "Should we search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?".

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, kissing the side of his neck lovingly. Nicholas' hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as if you were meant to be.

And maybe you were.

Just two souls, so utterly different; but they wouldn't be able to function without each other.

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch @violetidk @motherismotheringggg @c-cobweb @rosetintmworld @iamsebastiansstan @chr0nicradness

[pluto-on-mars]

“Its always been you”

I wrote this for a friend, but I decided to post so enjoy Rodrick Heffley fucking you in a bathroom folks. Also if anyone wants to commission anything HIT ME UP!

Rodrick Heffley x AFAB! reader (18+ Minors DNI)

Includes: Fingering (f! receiving), drunk sex, p in v

Word count: 2,567

The party was loud, the atmosphere thick with fun and desperation, which of the two you were was lost to you as you crept through the hallways, drunken bodies pressed against you and almost spilling what was left in your solo cup.

You were trying to find your friend, a common thing that seems to happen to you despite your attempts to get it to stop. But ever the lover boy, Rodrick always got swept up in the crowd once Heather Hills was spotted, leaving you in the shadow of her spotlight. You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t even want to go to this stupid party!

Rodrick could be terribly convincing when he wanted to be, unfortunately, promises to stay with you this time spilling from his pretty lips, and you couldn’t do anything but say yes. It was stupid, you were stupid, having a crush on a boy who didn’t necessarily want nothing to do with you, but he certainly didn’t want you in that way.

Stepping into the kitchen, you found who you were looking for, and you downed the rest of your drink as a result. It was the same as always, Rodrick trying, and failing, to impress Heather, but it was still a sight you couldn’t bear to see.

“ ‘Scuse me.” You grumbled, trying to reach the liquor that resided behind the pair.

“ Oh sorr-heyyyyy whatsup?” Rodrick, clearly drunk, slurred out once he recognized it was you.

“ Same as always.” You couldn’t help but be a little snippy, already having talked about how you didn’t like how he just left your side at a party, especially one that he convinced you to go to.

“ Oh-Heather wait!” He scurried past you, flashing you a smile as he chased the “girl of his dreams”.

Arguably a little bit too pissed off at how he left you again, you poured yourself another drink after taking a shot. Maybe it was a bad decision, trying to put out the flames of your anger with alcohol, but your already tipsy brain didn’t have any care to give.

You left the kitchen, body instinctively going towards the vibrations of the bass, following the music to the living room where it was the loudest. You got lost in the sea of bodies, chugging your drink occasionally while your hips swayed as you let the music overtake you.

Eventually your cup ran dry, you frowned once you knocked your head back, and realized you were met with nothing. You were certainly feeling it though, and that fact compelled you to want to get another one. With the room spinning, and you definitely stumbling, you made your way back to the kitchen. Pouring yourself one more, you rested on the counter for a bit, cool tile pressing against your hot back feeling nice as you indulged, nursing your drink as a means to not feel out of place.

Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last long, some asshole tripping into you, spilling your drink down your shirt, and effectively ruining your night. Still drunk, you wandered to the bathroom that unfortunately had a line. Deciding to go upstairs to continue your search, you found Ben.

“ If you find Rodrick, tell him I’m leaving.” And that was all you hissed out before you slammed the bathroom door, not even caring to answer his questions.

Gripping the counter as you looked into the mirror, you glared back at yourself, bad decisions catching up to you as now all the emotions you were drowning out seemed to come to the surface. Roughly grabbing a wad of toilet paper, you started dabbing it against your shirt.

“ Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You chanted, getting more pissed as each word continued to leave your mouth.

Angry tears dotted your eyes, and that made you feel even worse.

“ I know I shouldn’t have gone to this fucking party oh my god.” You rambled, rubbing your shirt harshly as you started to realize it was going to stain.

Slam

“What the fuck!” The bathroom door swinging open was the last you expected as you yelled out.

“ What's wrong, why are you leaving?” His voice reached you before you realized it was him, and you hated how you couldn’t stop your heart fluttering at his presence.

“ Don’t you have something else to worry about?” You snarled out, alcohol making you much more confrontational than you would be.

“ What? No, why would I-” Rodrick stepped in more, closing the door behind him, and looking down at your soaked shirt.

“ Please I’m surprised you aren’t too busy with Heather right now.” Words spewed from your tongue, and you knew you were going to regret this later with the direction it’s going.

“ No, never, you know I care about you c’mon.” Normally these words coming from him would work, but you were just so over everything, you just couldn’t be bothered. You needed to shout, you needed to yell, you needed to express your pent up frustration, and Rodrick was sure as hell going to hear it.

“ Do you though?” Your question hung in the air, tone biting, and you continued before he got the chance to speak.

“ It’s always Heather with you, Heather this, Heather that, always Heather fucking Hills!” You exclaimed, shoving your hands in the air, wad of tissue dropping into a sad lump on the floor.

“ You care until she’s there, and suddenly you're nowhere to be seen, even though I’ve told you Rodrick.” You were close to him now, finger pressed to his chest as you glared at him, despite your wavering stance.

He fidgeted, looking down at your finger before sighing, clasping the hand pointed against him gently, he used his other hand to run a hand through his hair.

“ It was never Heather.” He muttered out, words slightly slurred as he looked down at your hand in his.

Your mind raced, waiting for the words that could come out of his mouth, trying to stop yourself from foolish hope at what that might entail.

“ I only ‘liked’ her for so long cus you were never into me.” He trailed off, eyes darting around the bathroom as you slowly processed his words.

“ Are you being forreal right now?” You stuttered dumbly, mind not being able to comprehend this wasn’t some stupid drunken delusion and that this was very much real.

A nod was all you needed before you made your next decision, fueled by liquid courage, you couldn't help but tease.

“ God Rodrick, you’re so stupid.” Was all you said before you tugged on the neckline of his shirt, his lips crashing into yours as you got the kiss you’ve longed for god knows how long.

His hands seemed to instinctively find your hips, and you hummed into the kiss, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, you steadied yourself against him. His grip tightened, and you moved along with him as he placed you onto the bathroom counter.

He was between your legs now, and you hooked your legs around his waist. You gripped his shirt tighter as he bit your lip, pulling him into you as a means to deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you obliged, parting your mouth to feel his tongue against yours.

Arms resting around his shoulders, and hands going to his surprisingly soft hair, you shuddered once you felt his once stationary hands trail up your thighs. He pulled away with uncharacteristic softness, and you could feel his breath fan across your lips as he looked into your eyes. Just as you were about to close the short distance, his head dipped into the crook of your neck, wet kisses left in his wake as your breath grew shaky.

Head spinning not just from the alcohol but also with how hot it was getting in the room. Feeling as though you were burning up under his touch, Rodrick lifted the hem of your shirt, and you helped him get the rest off.

“ Thank god, that thing was fucking soaked.” You sighed in relief, cold air feeling nice against your skin as you unclasped your bra.

“ Yeah I bet that's not the only thing.” You could feel the chuckle against your neck, and you laughed along despite how warm your face grew at how right he probably was.

His short nails managed to drag across your skin just right as you straightened up at the sensation, and you jolted at him pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so you could press against the bulge in his jeans.

His hands stilled as your hips bucked, a muffled groan coming from his throat as his head began to go lower to your chest. Rodrick’s presence was overwhelming, he was licking, sucking, and biting what he could get his mouth on, and occupied what he couldn’t with his surprisingly skilled hands.

Your mind was racing, your head was fuzzy, and you were growing more desperate by the second.

“ Rodrick I swear to god if you don’t get a move on I’m going to explode.” You practically begged, voice having a slight needy whine to it, and you figured you would kill him if he decided to tease you on it after the fact.

“ God calm down, hardly even done anything yet.” He teased, hands drifting down to your inner thigh.

“ That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” You groaned out, biting your lips in order to bite back the embarrassingly loud moan that would’ve left you as his hand grazed you through your underwear.

“ Jeez alright, alright.” Rodrick smirked down at you, maliciously complying as he pulled them to the side gathering your wetness with his fingers all before shoving them inside you.

“ God fuck- Rodrick!” You were grateful for the loud atmosphere of the party, shout lost in the rest of the noise.

You gripped his shoulders, legs trembling from the initial shock. Rodrick didn’t seem to want to give you a moment to breathe, setting a pace that could only be described as fast, and something made to make you loud. You couldn’t stay quiet even if you wanted to, moans spilling from your lips even though you tried to be mindful.

“ I was right by the way.” He teased, looking down at you while you stared back, face growing impossibly warmer at how he seemed to be entirely focused on you and your reactions.

“ Wha-huh?” Was all you could mewl out through the sensation of his fingers inside you.

“ You’re soaked.” He grinned wolfishly, making his pace harder, and you cried out as you clenched around him.

“ And you called me stupid, you can barely even speak right now.” His tone was downright sinful and his words only built up your continually arising arousal.

“ ‘S not fair, you’re not getting fucked right now-” you managed to get out between pants,” ‘S your fault!” You protested weakly, words falling from your lips before you could even process them.

“ My fault?” He scoffed, amused as he didn’t break his unrelenting rhythm.

“ Just like it's my fault for taking so long to realize you liked me?” He said, and you could pick up on the slight softness, like he was asking for confirmation, and you didn’t hesitate to give it to him.

Nodding profusely, you let the words you’ve always thought to say tumble from your mouth,” I’ve liked you for so-fuck-so so long!”

He hummed, smiling down at you as he picked up the pace,” Oh really? How long have you liked me, pretty?”

You could feel heat pool to your abdomen, and your legs tightened around his waist,” ‘M gonna cum fuck.”

“ No, answer first.” He said bluntly, however his fingers didn’t seem to slow.

“ Shit I don’t know.” You blurted, mind frazzled as you couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure.

“ Think for me baby you got it.” Rodrick cooed, his left hand tracing gentle circles into your thigh.

“ Okayyy- ever since-fuck- ever since the begining of this year.” You managed to whine out before your legs began to shake.

“ Wow this year? That’s a long time.” He smiled, at your words, fondness dripping from his tone.

You would’ve smiled back, but his left hand moved from your thigh to your clit, rubbing it much more intensely than where it once was.

“ Such a good girl, cum for me.” He purred knowing just how close you were.

Coming down and swallowing your moans with a kiss that turned frantic as you eagerly reciprocated; you felt your orgasm crash over you in one big wave, dissolving into pleasure as your grip around him tightened.

Pace slowing as he rode you through your orgasm, in your clarity you fumbled for his belt buckle, the metal cold in your grip as you tried to take it off. Not breaking the kiss, Rodrick’s hands came down to help you, his jeans falling to the ground as you both parted to gasp for air.

In one swift movement Rodrick’s hands guided your hips, sinking you down onto his dick. Your simultaneous moans filled the air as Rodrick seemed to still for a second, needing a moment to collect himself. The sudden moving of his hips caused any teasing to die on your tongue as your breath hitched.

“ Fuck you feel so good.” Rodrick babbled, various noises falling past his lips, failing to maintain his composure despite his demeanor earlier.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, too lost in the rhythmic thrusts that had you seeing stars. Rodrick didn’t seem to mind though, filling in for your lack of responses with words of his own.

“ Can’t believe it took me so long to realize you liked me back.” Both of his hands were on your hips now, dragging them down to match his thrusts.

You were lost in the pleasure at this point, already sensitive from your last orgasm, your senses were overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but take what Rodrick was giving you.

“ Glad you finally did.” You cried out, already feeling the buildup for a second climax approaching.

“ Fuck.” You breathed out, Rodrick’s hips beginning to slam into you harder.

Arms going up to drape across his shoulders, you clung to him, needing to ground yourself with everything going on. His pace grew erratic, getting lost in you as he began to approach his rapidly building high. The same could be said for yourself, voice growing in volume as various curses flew from your lips.

Nails digging into his back, you gripped him tighter, you could hear your name slip past his lips as you moaned his. Hips coming to a slow stop, the sound of you both trying to catch your breath filled the room.

“ Still gonna leave?” Rodrick huffed, slipping back into his jeans as he looked at you.

“ Shirts still soaked.” You said simply, and you were absolutely going home after that, you were getting tired.

“ Wanna come back to my place with me?” You asked, hopping off the counter and looking for the wet pile that was your shirt.

“ Hell yeah.”

[hhighkey]

Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a ‘phantom troupe universe’ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!

It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out. 

Since the day a tall muscular, handsome  blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.

You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you. 

So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black. 

Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn. 

One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didn’t believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.

Phinks took you because he feared he’d lose you, he’d apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or you’d not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you. 

Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning. 

You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinks’s favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks. 

'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change. 

It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. You’re too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress. 

"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it. 

And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.

"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up. 

"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good." 

"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.

"Know so." 

Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."

"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?" 

You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want. 

It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think you’ll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement. 

"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh. 

You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts. 

Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,

"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"

And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.

"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine. 

And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more. 

Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp. 

"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"

Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him. 

He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.”

You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't. 

"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.

"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinks—" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."

"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in. 

His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see. 

"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl! 

The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.

-

"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"

You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."

"Figured you would be, he won’t care he’s probably only comin’ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."

"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."

"Which is my job right?"

"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."

"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"

"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.

Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). He’d handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as he’d call them. 

Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. You’re in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.

“Babe,” Phinks voice called out, “C’mere.” 

You obeyed as if on cue, “Hi.” As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side. 

“Uvo.” Said the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.

Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancé, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men. 

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note she’s frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her. 

“So,” You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, “People hungry enough to eat?”

“I’m fuckin’ famished.” Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited. 

You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, “Huh.” Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fiance’s chair. “What’s normally on Channel 5?”

“What?” She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read ‘Men’ as you placed napkins around the circular table. 

“Dunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since you’re up?” Phinks asks.

“Of course, one sec, the remote is over there.” You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier. 

Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red ‘Phantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.’ 

“Oh my god,” You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, “That’s horrible.”

As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.

“What?” 

“She doesn’t know?” Uvo’s fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it. 

“Know what?” You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.

“Oh- uh,” Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, “Just that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.”

What you can see of her, Uvo’s partner didn’t have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers. 

“We’re gonna get going...” Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.

“Turn that shit off.” Phinks is at your side faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. You’re frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall. 

It’s then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think she’s mouthing- ‘It’ll be fine.’ Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two. 

Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldn’t handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things that’d make you cry. 

“Phinks?” He doesn’t respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. “Tell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Why’d they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?” 

“Thought I told you not to watch the news.”

“It was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.”

“Shit.” He had been. He didn’t flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station. 

“Please be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say ‘I didn’t know’ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesn’t add up.”

“You’re gonna hurt your brain thinkin’ so hard babe. Let’s drop it.”

“You broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.” You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. “That was uncalled for especially in front of guests.”

“Fuck.” Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, “Fuck!” 

You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.

“Phinks?” The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, “Y-you’re scaring me.” 

You think he’ll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesn’t. 

“Y/N.” His eyes look as if they’re screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, you’re too hot, feeling like you’ll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, “You know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?” You nod. “It’s a tattoo.” 

“Tattoo of what?” You whisper. 

You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually he’d open up. Because you trusted him. 

But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink. 

A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back. 

An incessant ringing blares in your ears. You’d heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldn’t sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true. 

“You’re- when you leave for work… What is it you do again? And don’t say some business- Tell me.” You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears. 

“I’m a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.”

Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red. 

“I- Don’t play with me. Please tell me you aren’t in that group! You can’t be.” 

“Baby-”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.

“Y/N this doesn’t change the fact I love you, doesn’t change anything here for us. Shouldn’t it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that I’m strong enough to do so?”

“That’s your attempt to convince me?” It won’t stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"

Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions. 

"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Your world’s collapsing, you’re certain of it.

“D-Did he kidnap his fiancé too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"

"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"

"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?

"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."

"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I.. don't know. A lot."

Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.

"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."

"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."

"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think you’re going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously. 

"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?" 

One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you. 

"I need space tonight." You whimpered. 

"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."

You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."

"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."

Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it. 

Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad. 

You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?

Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.

With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you. 

Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that! 

So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe you’d become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path. 

-

When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart. 

Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.

"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"

Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now. 

You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.

You'd made up your mind that morning. 

Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.

“I have a lot to say.”

“Alright.” His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.

“You know, I’m still mad you kidnapped me and won’t let me have contact with anyone I used to know.” Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. “I told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if you’d want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if you’d ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that I’d fallen for you. It’s weird after all this time I never told you that.” Seeing the tension that’d built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.

You continue, “I think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows I’ve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and that’s a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now you’re dangerous to an extent I may never understand since you’re a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didn’t agree with. There’s cameras in every room. You’d monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that you’re a hot head. I saw Uvogin’s fiance’s fear towards the news.”

Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, “And I now know it’s because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe… You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone who’s capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, I’m sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But you’re still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and you’ll never admit you do too.”

“What are you saying?” He asked hoarsely. 

“I hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.” You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.

Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesn’t need to become the bad guy, he can let you think he’d have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. You’re a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him. 

The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, you’d hate him. And then when he’d have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, you’d despise him and yourself. You’d be petrified of him. 

But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul. 

“I never want you to leave.” Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldn’t be enough to describe what you did to him. 

Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.

"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And don’t hide the tattoo anymore."

"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, “I love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I do, I know.” You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, “Uh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.” 

He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, “I don’t know where to start babe.” 

“Well..” You think. “What do you… do? That’s not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?”

“Ahh, I don’t think you understand Nen at all then if you’re askin’ that.”

“What’s Nen?” You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadn’t learned of it in school.

“Oh fuck me.” The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you. 

And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didn’t matter at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.

-

MONTHS LATER

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. They’re talking but it wasn’t loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped they’d leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next. 

The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower. 

He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes. 

Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldn’t tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual. 

“Babe, why don’t we go out? There’s a farmer’s market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.”

“Really? Let me find something nice to wear!” 

Phinks held your hand as if he’d lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldn’t have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, you’d found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.

While you hadn’t been to the market in quite some time, it’d never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps. 

Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as he’s too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow. 

You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasn’t of your concern, he’d have a handle on things. 

Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But you’re too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like it’s a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in. 

But then, “Babe.” You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, “Fucking hell, scared me.” Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and you’re okay again. 

“L-Lost you. Didn’t mean to.” You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state. 

“I know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.” 

This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. It’s as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.

“You don’t fucking let go of my hand.” He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is. 

“S-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-”

“I don’t care, in public you know the damn rules.” As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, “Just- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I can’t read your mind.” You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that he’d be able to snap faster than you could blink. 

Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick he’d lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark. 

“So,” Phinks said, “Remember when I told you what actually happened to Uvogin’s fiance? How she’d been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.

“Guess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.” You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well… Uvo did kidnap her. “Shal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.”

As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. “Huh?”

“Shal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Phinks I don’t understand.” You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throat’s suddenly so, so dry. 

“That’s what Chrollo called me about this morning.” He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly he’s trying to keep his mood together for your sake, “Wanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.”

Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one you’d been enjoying. “I-I don’t want to leave. I-”

“We’ll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..” He stopped, “Kill them.”

At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, you’d asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right. 

“Where do we have to go?”

“Meeting Shal outside the city, he’ll take us to Base. It ain’t bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.” 

“Okay, do we have time to get some stuff?” You mentally began to race through the things you’d need for an extended time away.

“See, we don’t, so wish I thought of that before we left.”

“I swear to-” Phinks’s poorly timed laughter cut you off, “Glad my soon to be suffering because I won’t have my favorite pajamas is funny.”

The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings. 

People you don’t know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadn’t met before, you were certain they’d say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. You’re trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if they’re leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but you’re not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up. 

You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didn’t happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadn’t mattered for Uvogin’s girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window. 

“Y/N!” You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you don’t know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder. 

“I checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.” Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadn’t checked in here or else they’d have found you behind boxes in the small closet. 

“Fuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.”

“Yeah.” A new voice added in sounding further, “Those fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins don’t even fuck with them.”

“The big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I don’t want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.” Retreating steps made you perk up. 

“If Y/N were here she’d probably be running to us for help, she isn’t here.”

You don’t dare move a muscle, but it’s so hard. You’re weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you don’t know how your stress isn’t enough to give you away to trained Hunters. 

An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine. 

So you wait.

And wait. 

You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, you’ve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldn’t see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldn’t lose your wits, and you wanted to scream. 

Phinks will find you- he had to. He’ll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karma’s way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriend’s victims went through. 

Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long they’d had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs. 

Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you can’t give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.

-

A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be. 

The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers. 

“Where is Y/N?” He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitan’s dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes. 

“D-Don’t know! No-None of us found her!” He begged, “You gotta believe me!” 

“I do.” Feitan shrugged, “Tell me where others are.”

There’s conflict in the Hunter’s eyes, like he weighed his options.

“Won’t say.” He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing he’d be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.

Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled. 

Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when they’d entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura. 

Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadn’t settled in hours and he’d chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.

Their prisoner won’t answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face. 

Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the man’s cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. “Gone all quiet now, huh?” A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. It’s when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off. 

Feitan smirked, “Got it all out?”

His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror that’d made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldn’t care for your tears or pleas to let you go. He’s imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvo’s girl. How when they rescued her she’d been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldn’t stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week she’d been unconscious with IV’s sticking in her veins. 

The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him. 

“Need to stay calm.” Feitan said, “Almost hear your thoughts.”

Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his ‘friend’ a glare, “I don’t know if she’s okay. I’m- supposed to protect her. This is fuckin’ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.” It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, “Your girl can be next, Feitan.”

“I know. Stop speaking.” Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching. 

“We should go find Shal.” 

-

The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.

You weigh your chances here, assuming you’d fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And who’d wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?

Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didn’t creak and you’re now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you it’s night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars. 

Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you. 

You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. It’s safe.

The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent. 

But it’s the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath. 

“Per GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.” That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside. 

“Nobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.” 

“Why can’t I just start screaming her name loud as possible? She’s gotta know it’s me.”

“Uvo she’s probably terrified and you’ll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.”

Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone.  

“He on his way over?”

“Him and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.” 

Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs. 

But what you hadn’t realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. The sundress you’d adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state. 

Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. He’s on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. He’s checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You can’t speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up. 

A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.

“Shal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,” Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvogin’s arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, you’re trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition. 

Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears.. 

“I got you.” Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. “Safe now, okay?”

The sky moved by fast, but you’re not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.

You’re tucked into Phinks’s body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself you’re okay, he has you. A piece of you isn’t even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car. 

You couldn��t stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat. 

“Babe you can sleep, s’okay.” Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him. 

“Are you- okay?” You ask, concerned for him. 

Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, “I’m good, I got you back. I don’t want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.”

“I ran, I didn’t know what to do.” You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, “Ran up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.”

His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, “We’re heading to Base now and we’ll get you warmed up.”

You cling to the blonde as if you’d be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. It’s with the glint of orange rays that you’re alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt. 

“I can walk.” You try to say to Phinks but he’s having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened. 

“Babe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.” His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver. 

You weren’t sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door. 

You’re not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when you’d ask him questions. You’re not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, it’s like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinks’s arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if he’d let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. He’s covered in blood and you’re nauseous at the sight. 

You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.

“I’ll be right back.” Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend who’s covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient. 

You think it’s been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but you’re becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everything’s okay. 

“Hey,” When you look up, the familiar face of Uvogin’s fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile. 

“Hey, how are you?” You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table. 

She shook her head, “I should be asking you that. You okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m not physically, just… scared and now really cold.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh would you like my cardigan?” But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, “If you’re sure.” 

You hadn’t seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. You’d slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you aren’t sure why. Health? 

“I’m sure, thanks.” You want to say it’s because she looks like she’d need the extra body heat, that she shouldn’t look so malnourished.

An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitan’s faint shuffling breaking it up. You’re curious, sometimes too much for your own good and there’s suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvogin’s work or something along those lines. 

“Are you-” Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And it’s when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in. 

“Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown. 

“This was the best chance you ever could have had- more than…” She sighs, “Since my health’s not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..” 

You’re confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, “I don’t fully understand… Sorry.” 

“You know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where she’ll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.”

“Stop.” Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, “That- I don’t have stockholm syndrome.” 

She shrugged, “I might have it, might not. You can’t truly know either.”

“I loved him before he took me.”

“Does he let you have free reign of a phone?” You shake your head for ‘no,’ “What about, can you talk to old family or friends.” You don’t answer. “Cameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he can’t see or hear from you within seconds?”

“Would you… Want a new life away from Uvo?” Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.

“No. I’m content, I don’t know how much longer I have anyways. He’s in denial about it.” She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didn’t care, like her current life wasn’t worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, “I guess I selfishly, while I’m alive, want to see one of them suffer like they’ve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.” You squirm at her words, “I know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess it’ll be karma enough for his actions.”

“Don’t you love him though?”

“Does it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.” She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesn’t slip past you as she recounts a good memory, “But, it doesn’t mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say I’m irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isn’t logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but… That’s all I want to say Y/N, don’t forget who these men really are. They’re no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to ‘safety.’ None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.”

“Just… Who’s the lesser evil?” You whisper.

“Precisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.” 

You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.

Uvogin’s fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-

“Ah, sometimes I say such strange things when I don’t feel well, sorry about that.” She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is. 

You nod, “Of course.” But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know you’ll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.

An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer you’ll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact you’re still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride. 

Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you aren’t doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. He’d walked down the hall behind you so you figure you’d run into him eventually. 

Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. ‘Spooky,’ You think to yourself, hugging your arms close. 

The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you. 

Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked up– Phinks.

“Babe, what’ya doing?” You don’t have time to argue as he’s picking you up, “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“Wanted to find you.” You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.

Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day you’d had, “I was coming to get you.” Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came. 

Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then… You aren’t sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open. 

“Alright, here we are.”

The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didn’t care to have.

“This is your room isn’t it?”

“Yep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.”

“Why..?”

“If I’m ever beaten up after a job-” He explained, “I don’t want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasn’t bad for the bachelor life.” 

It’s nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something that’s been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if you’d never been in that abandoned closet. 

You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, “You’re coming to bed, right?”

“What a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.” 

“I want you to stay by my side.”

His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He can’t scare you after the day you’ve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high he’s coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. It’s a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesn’t care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself you’re his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think they’re the saviors of the Phantom Troupe’s women. 

God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away. 

“I love you.” Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.

“I love you too.” He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldn’t understand, would probably be scared of, “I’ll keep you warm tonight, you’re safe.” Right now he knows what you need to hear. 

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Good. It’s secured in Phinks’s mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldn’t find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. You’re just so cute. And he’s lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that there’s anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter who’d been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all that’s left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvo’s girl, he’s sure there’ll be more eventually. 

He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that he’s ‘too big’, that you’re ‘too full’, and begging for him to stop- but gods he won’t stop not when you’re broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he won’t stop, never does, until you’ve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because he’s not a good man. Because a good man wouldn’t fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that he’s not good.

[alessiathepirate]

Squid Game

RUSSIAN ROULETTE: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: A game of Russian roulette can reveal many secrets...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: death and violence, guns, swearing, referenced and/or mentioned trauma, mentioned suicide, Gi-hun and reader being oblivious, the Salesman ships it (in his own way) [the Frontman ships it - in fact, everyone does]

●●●

If a God really, truly exists, she thought, then this is the moment when I should be grateful.

She was grateful. Truly grateful.

She was the one who had gotten into that seemingly unescapeable situation and not Gi-hun.

She was in danger and not Gi-hun.

She had a slim, one in six chance of dying and not Gi-hun.

She'd die if she lost and not Gi-hun.

She liked that thought - the last one. It almost made her smile, almost, since she knew it'd be best if she didn't show any emotion. If she did, she'd give the Salesman a new card he could play and he already had the advantage regarding information.

Russian roulette... What a strange way to die. It's a death by luck, yet it's suicide too - since she'll be the one who'll pull the trigger.

Then, her mind darkened. What would Gi-hun say? How would he feel if he'd find her body? Her dead, bloody corpse. He lost so much already. He wouldn't survive another death.

But still... she'd rather die herself, than see him die.

She picked up the gun as the music played in the background, as that crazy motherfucker sat at the other side of the table in his fancy suit, with his chilly smile.

Her hand wasn't shaking as she put the barrel against her head -- she was ready to die - for Gi-hun; yet she was ready to win too - for Gi-hun.

She pulled the trigger, then blinked. She successfully made the chance one in five.

The Salesman took the revolver, showed her his bare teeth as he put the gun against his head and took the shot. Yet nothing happened.

One in four...

Crazy fucker.

She took the gun again and got ready to pull the trigger - but before she could see if she'll live or die, the Salesman leaned forward and began to talk.

She looked him in the eyes even if his whole being scared her to death, especially the fact that he could go from zero to a hundred in no time. He was usually so calm, so elegant - now he was just the word insanity itself with blood on his face.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." he said as he examined her, hunting for any sign of weakness. "For one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji. Don't get me wrong, you weren't as bad as Seong Gi-hun, but still... A player like you? Surviving?" he tilted his head to the side and sighed. "The two terrible ddakji players survived and I have to say - you fueled my curiousity." he leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching hers. "So I asked around... and let me tell you what I was told: only one of you was suppossed to live and take the money."

She felt a chill run down her spine as the thought of Gi-hun dying ran through her head. Her hands shook - and he didn't fail to notice it.

"But apparently your relationship with Seong Gi-hun; both of you trying to play the hero to save the other, was much more entertaining to our special guests." the Salesman just smiled, yet this time around there was something wicked and wrong with the way his lips curled upwards. "And then I realized that they were right."

Her hold on the revolver tightened from anger as she imagined some rich fuckers enjoying the 'show' in which they were fighting for their damn lifes.

She remembered what the boss said before he dropped Gi-hun and her off with their new credit card -- but they weren't damn horses!

"You and him, together - that really is more entertaining." he continued, his voice taunting and playful.

She pulled the trigger - in anger. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from saying something stupid.

She lived.

One in three...

The Salesman tilted his head once again as he reached for the gun. It seemed like he found something truly interesting.

"Tell me... did you tell him?"

Tell him what? She shouted on the inside, but she stayed quiet.

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth, never breaking eye-contact, as he continued: "Did you tell him how you feel?"

Click...

One in two...

She felt her mouth run dry as she looked at him - and this time she was sure she had panic in her eyes.

How she felt?

How did she really feel?

She would die for him - that's how. And one in two, the slim chance of survival, that fifty-fifty; was seemingly leading her there: dying for him.

The Salesman opened his palm, the revolver was laying in his hand. It was like an offering.

"You didn't." it wasn't a question, but a statement. "What a horrible way to die, isn't it? Dying without confessing." his smile was wide and taunting. "Dying for the man you love and he will never even know about it."

She felt her lips tremble.

Won't he? Is he that clueless?

But there's still a chance, a fifty-fifty, that she'd live to...

She took the gun and looked at it. Two shots. She could cheat and kill him. At least he'd finally shut up...

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice unusually happy and entertained. "Is your mind starting to race? Now your odds of death are one in two. That's pretty high indeed." when she didn't say anything he continued: "I'm sure you're afraid." Was she? "Lots going through your mind. Let me guess what you are thinking right now. 'Screw the rules. The gun's in my hand. Pull the trigger once, or twice and I can blow this guy's face off.' Isn't that right? If you want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket. You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. If you want to meet Seong Gi-hun again without taking that fifty-fifty chance, you can shoot me and call him - tell him to come 'home'. But before you decide what to do I'll have you admit a few things."

She hated his voice, his smile - his damn manipulation techniques... She just wanted to leave or die peacefully - die without confessing...

Did she really want to take that chance?

Before she could answer her own question, the Salesman interrupted her train of thought: "That you're a piece of trash, just like everyone else. Just like Seong Gi-hun. A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster. A piece of trash who isn't even brave enough to make the first move. A piece of trash who's weak, scared - who didn't deserve to win at all. Not when you don't even have the strength to look at the prize you had won."

Click...

She pulled the trigger without even realizing - without a second thought regarding fear of death itself.

Her breathing became fast and uneven as she finally smiled, grinning at the man with evil taunt.

The Salesman's smile disappeared and disbelief took its place.

How... disappointing. Losing your own game.

She gave him the revolver with an open palm.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice both happy and angry. "Is your mind starting to race? What a terrible way to die - losing in your own game..." She'd see him again... "That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me. But... I'll have you admit a few things. Things Gi-hun thinks about you - truths he knows about you... You put a mask over your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark and wag your tail for them." she leaned in closer, her voice taunting. "You are nothing more than their dog. A fucking puppy on a very tight leash."

To her surprised, the Salesman just smiled and took the revolver. Then, he looked her in the eyes. For a moment, his expression became calm as usual - for a second, the first impression she had of him was back.

"Well played, Y/N." he leaned in as if he wanted to tell her a secret. "Now -- tell him..."

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Boom!

Blood tainted her face as his body fell back and the revolver fell from his hand.

Now -- tell him... Should she?

●●●

It didn't take long for that cop to find her with the Salesman's corpse sitting right in front of her.

Jun-ho. The cop who was looking for his brother, and who came to her and Gi-hun for help. And they refused to help the guy, since they were neck deep in debts and danger.

He thought she killed him. And in a way she did. She gave the gun to the Salesman. She wanted him to lose and die.

Yet she didn't feel bad about it all.

Jun-ho was about to cuff her when Woo-seok arrived and saved her from being arrested.

Soon, the cop was in the bathtub, cuffed and unconscious - and Woo-seok was looking at the Salesman with fear and disgust.

She let him grieve. Kim was dead - he died right in front of him, and she knew it wasn't something you can just forget and forgive.

Where's Gi-hun? She wanted to ask, but still waited patiently for Woo-seok to calm down and get dressed.

"What happened here?" she felt his voice before she heard it.

The feelings Gi-hun's voice alone made her feel with her whole body, were the best things in the world. Whenever he was talking she felt safe, calm and loved. More like: wanted.

Gi-hun's hair and clothes were wet from the rain, his voice was full of worry as he looked at the corpse of the man he had been looking for for years.

"Are you all right?" the question was meant for her.

She could hear the Salesman's voice in her head - taunting her, making her jump and tell him right away: next to a corpse, a traumatized guy and a cuffed, unconscious cop...

"I am." she said, and she could feel her heart beating faster than usual as he ran to her and hugged her tightly. "Are you?"

Gi-hun just nodded and then looked at the dead body.

"What happened?"

For a moment she thought about what she should say.

"Russian roulette." she explained - and Woo-seok shook in disgust. "He lost and now I have the 'key'."

Instead of getting greedy, asking for the damn card, Gi-hun just hugged her again, even tighter.

"I'm so glad you're all right. When you didn't pick up I knew something was wrong."

She could feel her heart flutter.

"Gi-hun..." Now or never - the adrenaline was still present, making her brave enough to choose now. "Can we... talk? Please?"

"Of course, is everything all right?"

"Yes, I just..."

Woo-seok just raised his hands and took a deep breath. "I think I... need some air. I'll be outside and then I'll-- help, with the clean-up."

"Will you be all right?" she asked, making sure he won't collapse on the way out.

Woo-seok just nodded and left the room quickly - as if he was afraid the corpse would come back to life and threaten him again.

She looked at the Salesman once again - in a strange way his taunting was the thing that gave her strength.

"While we were playing he said a few things... Truths, mostly." she began, avoiding Gi-hun's eyes. "When I took the gun I thought... how grateful I am that I'd die and not you. And I- I wasn't afraid of dying, Gi-hun, I was afraid I'd die without telling you that--" she stopped right before the confession and closed her eyes.

She was afraid to look at him.

She stared death in the face not even ten minutes ago, yet she was scared to see Gi-hun's reaction.

"Y/N... Look at me, please." Gi-hun held onto her shoulders gently as he made her turn around, and she slowly opened her eyes.

She saw no hatered or disgust. Gi-hun's eyes were full of adoration and love, and she was sure her whole face turned red.

"I know. And I feel the same way, I was just afraid that I'd--"

"--ruin everything?" she finished. "Yeah, me too."

Gi-hun let out a small, quiet chuckle. She smiled, since she barely heard him laugh these days.

"I guess we were a little oblivious and dumb, weren't we?" he asked.

"We were." she agreed. "And I guess that - after everything; I didn't want to ruin what we have and I didn't want to lose the last person on Earth I care about."

Gi-hun leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. She just grinned and grabbed onto his shoulders.

"I love you, Y/N."

The muscles in her cheeks twitched slightly, her grin disappeared. Her lips trembled and she could feel the tears' need to arrive and fall down her cheeks.

"And I'm sorry we don't have a more romantic setting." he continued and she chuckled, then brushed the tears away.

"Our life isn't normal at all. In fact this is the most normal we had so far - so I don't mind." she said and returned the favor - she too gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you too, Gi-hun."

"Please don't play any more Russian roulette, okay?" he asked with a faint, sad smile.

"Okay." she agreed. "No more games."

Gi-hun gave her one last peck, before he took a step back and looked at the bloody mess the Salesman caused.

"We have to clean this up."

"Yes." she nodded. "We have to."

"What else did he tell you? Did he say anything important?"

She remembered what the Salesman told her - about them winning, about Them enjoying her relationship with Gi-hun, about them being nothing more than pieces of trash...

She thought about telling him - telling Gi-hun everything, every single detail about the talk she had with the Salesman...

...but she couldn't do it.

She couldn't ruin his last, remaining hope for humanity itself. He still had trust and love and hope... She couldn't ruin it further.

So she just shut her mouth, hugged Gi-hun one more time and began to clean up the blood.

"No. He didn't say anything else."

[writingmeraki]

men on a mission.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )

genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.

warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.

author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!

sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )

word count : 0.9k

small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!

Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.

“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?” 

You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.

Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.

His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.

“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.” 

You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.

He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that. 

“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,

“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache. 

“ ‘s fine~”

“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.” 

Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time. 

Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.

“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were. 

His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”

You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams. 

“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before. 

“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”

You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.

“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.” 

“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.

The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business. 

Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get. 

“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~” 

You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.

Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?

Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency. 

“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment. 

You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars. 

“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him. 

You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,

“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”

Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him. 

He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you. 

Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

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