#then had to un-come out TWICE

[friendofthecrows]

Happy season 17 everyone :))) i don't think this hellsite will ever escape

[seosracha]

⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY

─"do you know about all the filth that goes on in here?"

SYNOPSIS ⸻ being a smart kid comes with a lot of advantages; one of them being a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. one of the best school's that's filled to the brim with disgustingly rich teenagers. Heeseung knows you're not like them, and he also knows that'll be easy to take advantage of.

PAIRING ⸻ toxic!heeseung x innocentfem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, private school au, smut, fluff, angst (idek tbh)

TAGS ⸻ characters are all 18 or older, toxic relationships, misogyny, alcohol abuse, smoking, marijuana/cannabis mention, partying, underage drinking, foul language, cheating (not really though) power imbalance, abuse (punches are getting thrown..) , kinda love triangle?? , making out, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), virginity loss, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, tell me if i missed something!

WORDCOUNT ⸻ 21k

everything here is FICTIONAL, it is not real. this was created for entertainment purposes only. MINORS DNI.

“No Eunseok, I don’t want to go anywhere!” you grit your teeth, backing away from your older brother. 

He sighed, and with his hand pulled your wrist towards the doorway. You were acting like a brat, and he had absolutely no interest in fighting with you right now. From your standpoint, you had every reason to be behaving this way. 

“There are thousands- no, millions of people your age who would die for an opportunity like this, and you're going to act like a child? Grow up, Y/n” he let out a steady breath as an attempt to calm himself down. 

In some way, you put yourself in this situation. Flawless scores on all your exams, juggling multiple extracurriculars and excelling at every single one of them, participating in every Model UN you could get your hands on, making a name for yourself- being somebody. It all led to you being noticed by prestigious schools, who practically begged to host you, even though deep down, you were a nobody. 

Your parents weren't snobby rich people, who thrived off of other people's ideas and failure. They weren't greedy either, working normal 9 to 5 jobs. 

When you were merely 12 years old they had left to go work at your uncle's company overseas, hoping that it’ll allow them to make enough money to pay for your brother’s med school tuition and potentially have the money to fund a future clinic of his. They promised to come back as soon as Eunseok finished school and started a stable job. But they never did. 

Eunseok, who was 7 years older than you, was always the favorite child. No matter how well you did or how bad he did, Eunseok was number one in your parents' hearts. There was never a family reunion where Eunseok’s medical career as a surgeon wasn't brought up- and when it did end up getting shoved into the conversation, it didn't stop until all the lights turned off. 

And of course, you felt bad for your brother. He had to balance taking care of you and being a surgeon for fucks sake, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel lonely most of the time. You had a free hand when it came to inviting friends over, but unfortunately their strict parents and every other circumstance never allowed them to stay longer than one night. Your only family,  your older brother who you looked up to was just never there, and you just sank deeper into your loneliness whenever he called and apologized for a sudden surgery that came up. 

But still, Eunseok, was just perfect, you had no choice but to try and keep up with him. 

So when the letter from Saint Matthew’s Academy came in the mail, offering you a spot in their school, with the tuition fully paid for by them, you didn't even think twice. 

And now you regret that, badly. 

St. Matthews Academy was a private school next to the town you grew up in. It was also an exceptionally expensive place, with tuition fees racking up to about $80.000 per year. Going there would be a privilege to most people your age, but the students there saw it as a regular school without anything special to offer them. Even if they weren't going to inherit their parents’ company's, they were truly set up for the rest of their lives anyways. 

You hadn't really done any research on the school before accepting their offer, only aware of their students academic achievements and high level of education. The more you found out, the more the idea of being a student terrified you. 

You would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the successful people who had a chairman position prescribed before birth. 

“It’ll be okay, do you think if I let the fear get to me, I’d be a SNU alumni now?” Eunseok asked, focused on the road as he drove you right into the gates of your own, personal hell. 

“We get it, you finished SNU and are a surgeon now, blah blah blah” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I’m just trying to help you. I doubt those kids are going to be that bad. They have a reputation to upkeep anyways, can’t be caught bullying” he tried to calm you down, but everytime he opened his mouth, he just made it worse. 

“Eunseok, you’re making it worse” you murmured, tucking at the skin of your thumb. He placed his hand on yours, preventing you from continuing with your bad habits “That’s exactly why I’m scared. These kids are disgustingly rich, and people like us-  well we're like ants compared to them. They have an image to polish, and I have none of that” you continued, and he frowned lightly, his heart breaking at your, his little sisters, words. 

“Do you seriously think you got to be in this position cause you’re a nobody? I don’t think regular and undeserving people have been given a full scholarship to a school like Saint Matthew’s. Nobody has been given a scholarship from them really” Eunseok said, making you feel slightly more confident “I can turn around, you can withdraw, but I think you’ll regret that” he said, with a light smile which you reciprocated. 

Maybe you should have told him to turn around back then, maybe you should've denied the offer or thrown it away the moment you saw the letter with that heinous stamp. 

_____ 

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about what your first day was going to be like. Some dreams portrayed you as the future top 3 of the school, and some seemed to make you out to be the outcast loser who can’t seem to find anyone who’d befriend her. 

It was nearly impossible to get those images out of your head. You thought about lying about your background, falsifying stories about your parents who own giant multi-utility corporations that supply petrol and energy to half the country, but that was pointless. 

You could either be made fun of for lying or made fun of for being a ‘poor nobody’. None of them seemed right, but one didn't lead to being incredibly embarrassed for the rest of highschool. 

The building did not have any correlation with the one that you imagined, the one that you constantly dreamed about. It looked nothing like the modern, smart, couple story construction that clouded your mind beyond arrival, and because of their strict laws, pictures and videos of both the inside and outside were strictly prohibited. 

So all you had left was to make up your own assumptions, and the old fashioned, palace looking property was definitely not one of them. You assumed that the millions of dollars in tuition that flow into the headmaster's account every year could at least allow him to renovate the building. 

But it seemed as if the gray, dirty, moss covered outer walls had a special meaning you didn't quite understand. 

You definitely weren't a sucker for historical architecture, and this building looked more like a nightmare than a dream to you. 

At the front office, the lady had confiscated your phone, with a smile explaining why they do it, and asking you to pick it up after classes are over. She had a creepy aura surrounding her, and you begged for her small introduction to finish as soon as possible. 

“I’ll let Wonyoung, your class president, give you a tour around our school. She should be here in a moment, dear” she smiled eagerly at you, and you found it hard to reciprocate her seemingly innocent expression. 

You never expected Wonyoung to be an actual angel, her figure already shining brightly as she strides towards you. You wondered how it was possible for someone to make a school uniform look this good. Her hair was long and silky, and her bangs just looked fake with how fresh and bouncy they were. 

You smoothed down your uniform and fixed up your hair as she got closer to you and the eerie lady next to you. 

“You're the new student, right?” she waved at you, and shot you with a pretty smile. 

You had no idea how to behave, acknowledging that she probably came from a wealthy family that practically owns the country. 

But Wonyoung was a little different. Her parents didn't own any big corporations or participate in any other money making schemes. Both her mom and dad met on the set for a movie that later led them to become the highest paid actors in the industry. It was pretty comical to say she was different as she still was considered a product of nepotism in the modeling world that she was so active in. She hadn't even finished highschool, but had already walked for brands like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Maison Margiela and more. Maybe it was her pretty face or just her parents' wild connections. 

“Mind if I give you a small tour? It can get complicated around here” she asked, her tone so delicate. 

If anything you should be thanking her for sparing you with a little bit of time, thanking her for even allowing someone like you to be in the presence of someone like her. 

You nodded your head not able to let a single word out, afraid to embarrass yourself. With a smile Wonyoung locked her arm with yours, and kept you close by her side as she showed you around the place. 

“This is the cafeteria, but I wouldn't recommend you going there, the food is awful” she said, and you laughed lightly at her expression. 

Was it awful cause it wasn't a three course meal with caviar, steak and truffles for dessert or was it actually not that good. You really did not fit in here and you haven't met anyone else.

“Well I see that guy is enjoying it” you commented, noticing a tall, skinny boy laughing with his friend as he consumed something you couldn't quite recognize. 

Wonyoung laughed, in the most elegant way possible, and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink “That’s Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend. He will eat anything, seriously” she stated and you nodded with a chuckle. 

Park Sunghoon was son to Park Jiwon, the CEO of ParkJin Electronics. His mother had worked hard all her life to build up her own empire, resulting in him being raised mainly by nannies and his cousins. Still, he was spoiled and cocky, his family allegedly had royal roots, and even though he didn't know himself, he boasted about it every single occasion he got. He didn't seem to care much about studying, since he was the only child his mother ever had, he was next in line to inherit her electronic empire. Yet something in him felt the desire to prove to everyone that no matter what, he deserved to take over.  

He also surrounded himself with people of the same social status and net worth as him, so that’s probably why he treated Wonyoung so differently, even though she was his literal girlfriend. Wonyoung was rich, but she could never compare to the millions his mother earned yearly. 

Yet he was so good at pretending and gaslighting the girl into believing she's the bad person for lashing out on him after he called her ‘the type of person who polishes shoes for people like him’. He was just joking around, right? But the poor girl took it because the good moments overshadowed the absolute idiot Park Sunghoon was capable of being. 

“And next to him? Who’s that” you asked, politely pointing towards the blond boy next to him who’s jawline looked like it was shaped by Micheal Angelo himself. 

“That’s Jongseong, but we just call him Jay,” Wonyoung answered, looking at you with a pretty smile. Did everything she does have to be so annoyingly beautiful and perfect? 

Park Jay was born in Seattle, so he was the American heartthrob that flexed his posh English skills in order to pull girls he had no interest in having serious relationships with. His dad owned the biggest hospital in the country, and on top of that had plastic surgery salons opened in practically every city. His parents had divorced when his dad's businesses started to gain popularity and bring in more money. His father assumed that his wife no longer appealed to him, and she would just be like a parasite- living off of his success. And since Jay had been harshly raised by his rough father, he shared the same opinion about his mother. Not having a motherly figure present in his life, surrounding himself with his fathers girlfriends who were only 10 years older than him, he became a Andrew Tate worshiping incel who’s main focus was making money and convincing everyone to join his self-betterment program. 

“He’s nice, but I think his political and social views are a little far from the ones that girls like us have” she attempted to explain, and pretty quickly you understood he’s a misogynist. 

“I see, is your boyfriend the same?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as you can, since you didn't quite know where Wonyoung wouldl draw the line. 

“No, at least I’d hope he isn't” she chuckled lightly, and slowly tugged you towards another large hall in the school “He was raised by women, his dad passed away when he was around 3, so I guess he has at least some respect for us” she added, and you nodded in understanding. 

“This school is really freaking big, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way around here” you commented and she chuckled at your use of words. 

“You can say fucking, I really don’t mind” Wonyoung looked at you, and you breathed out a steady breath “I don’t want you to think of us as some posh, elegant and royal like teenagers who use a fork and knife every time they eat. I genuinely think most of us are pretty normal considering our backgrounds” she explained, and you had to stifle a laugh. 

Although Wonyoung seemed like an incredibly nice and sweet girl, she truly had no idea how privileged she was. Truly, her only worry was you not thinking she’s a snobby rich kid. And that applied to all of them, you just didn't see yourself empathizing with these people, seeing how you were raised in two completely different worlds. 

“It’s my first time talking to people like you, don't have much experience” you smiled and raised your hands in guilt. 

She laughed at your action, and asked “What do you mean, what do your parents do then?” 

You didn't want to answer that question, you didn't even want anyone to ask it in the first place. But you had to answer honestly. 

“Both of my parents live overseas, but they're no one special. My dad is a construction worker and my mom has a simple office job” you said, and she didn't seem to laugh or find your parents’ profession amusing in any way “I live with my brother, he’s a surgeon” you added, and she seemed to light up at the mention. 

“I want to be a surgeon too!” she beamed and you smiled as she ignored and didn't care about the fact that you weren't the future heiress of a major conglomerate “I need to speak to your brother one day, maybe he’ll give me some advice” she added and with a smile you assured her you’ll set up a meeting for the two of them one day. 

She pulled you through a dark, narrow, dimly lit hallway to a giant room with a high ceiling where most of the students were currently spending their time. 

“This is the common room” she said, as the two of you stood in the entryway. 

Laughter ringed in your ears as you attempted to examine every student present in the area. 

“Let me introduce you to Niki!” she beamed and pulled your wrist towards the unknown boy. 

Niki was the son of the owners of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country. Even though he had no interest in taking over the business, his younger sister wasn't seen as competent enough to take over, so he was forced to be the next CEO. His parents and Jay’s father were close friends, planning on merging the two companies by arranging a marriage between Jay’s younger sister and Niki. His true passion was dance, he hated everything that had to do with medication, but he knew there was no chance he’d ever get to pursue his passion for a living. 

“Niki!” she called to the boy, and he turned around, swiftly taking off his headphones. 

“Not gonna go shop for makeup with you today, forget it” he claimed, not even noticing you standing right next to her. 

“Oh please, as if I’d want to go with you” she sneered and he chuckled under his breath. “I wanted to introduce you to Y/n, she’s new here!” she continued, and he took a judging look at you. 

Or at least it felt as if he was judging you, scanning you up and down as if you weren't wearing the same exact uniform as him. But quickly he shot you with a small smile, and stuck his hand out for you to shake. You applied and as nicely as you could, returned the expression. 

“You’ll regret coming here, Y/n” he warned with a laugh, and you chuckled, but deep down felt like maybe he wasn't joking. 

“Stop scaring her” Wonyoung said sternly, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “I like it here, don’t listen to him Y/nnie” 

“Maybe because you're a fucking nerd who’s a teachers pet?” he asked sarcastically, and Wonyoung just rolled her eyes playfully. 

You stood there listening to their bickering, already getting a weird feeling that you didn't really belong here, these people were not the usual kind you surround yourself with. 

“What brings you here?” he asked, which turned your attention back to the two people in front of you. 

“I got an invitation, full ride scholarship and all” you explained and his eyes widened. 

“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” he asked, and you chuckled lightly. 

“You could say that, I guess” you said, and he looked towards Wonyoung. 

“I guess you’ll finally have a smarty pants friend to talk to about the theory of relativity, or whatever you call it” he cooed, and she flipped him off. 

“Jake used to be my nerdy bestie, well until he started hanging out with Jay and attending his dumbass courses” she laughed looking towards you, and he did the same nodding his head. 

“Let’s be honest, ever since they created their little frat circle with Heeseung and Sunghoon, they suffered insane brain damage. But the courses were also bad enough” Niki inquired, and she laughed, agreeing with him. 

Jake’s parents were real estate giants, owning at least half of the properties in the city. He had been raised with the thought of taking over his parents’ business, so he was actually the only one in his friend circle that studied and strived to achieve something. His mother or father would never let him take over if he had nothing in his head. Jake actually wanted to become a real estate agent, because after seeing his parents succeed, he wanted to be just like them. 

“What exactly are these courses about?” you asked, and Niki quickly opened his phone to show you the website Jay and his computer geek friend Jungwon set up. 

You didn't even bother asking the boy how he managed to sneak a phone in, assuming the one lying in the basket at the front desk, was probably one of his many devices. 

“He tries to convince men that they need to unleash their inner sigma to fully embrace their manliness or something like that” he explained as you grabbed his phone to look through the website. 

It looked like a failed IT project they had to do in class, and honestly you didn't understand why anyone would trust him enough to receive life advice. 

“I can't believe that people actually listen to his advice” you commented, handing back Niki his phone. 

“That’s not even the worst of it, he genuinely thinks that if men were to become pregnant, they would give birth in two weeks since they’re stronger, something along those lines” Wonyoung added, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. 

Maybe you were getting along with them, but the eerie atmosphere around you and the blank stares you received from other students grounded you. 

“Yo new girl, wanna come to a party tonight?” Niki turned towards you with a questioning expression. 

You have been studying your whole life, cramming information until late hours of the night, which resulted in you having to give up your social life or anything of that sort. You had friends, but never the time to go out with them. So this would be your first party ever, and you had no idea how to behave. 

“Sure,” you replied, not giving it any more thought. If you started overthinking it, you’d probably deny the request. 

“Put in your number, I’ll send you the address” he gave you his phone once again, and you swiftly typed in your digits, saving your contact under ‘Song Y/n’. 

“Show me your schedule, I’ll walk you to your next class” Wonyoung turned to you, and you dug up the crumbled piece of paper you received at the front office. 

_______

Niki had eventually texted you the address, offering a ride along with it, unless you already had one. You gladly accepted his offer, although his kindness seemed weird and suspicious to you. 

Maybe you just weren't used to people being nice to you simply out of human decency and without any ulterior motives, but someone as high up and rich as Niki or Wonyoung should not be bothered by someone like you. They definitely shouldn't be offering you rides in their expensive sports cars. 

“Oh c’mon Wony, we gotta give our transfer the princess treatment” he said, shooing her away from the passenger seat with his hand. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, but agreed to give up her front seat, which you tried to convince her to take back for a little over a minute. 

“No Y/nnie, you're probably going to meet our little devil tonight, you need as much peace as you can get before that” she assured, and you just shook your head at her reluctance. 

“And who exactly are you talking about?” you asked, turning around to once again face Wonyoung who already got comfortable in the back seat.

“I’ll ask you that question tomorrow morning, it’s more fun that we keep it a secret for now” she giggled childishly, and Niki nodded his head approvingly at her idea. 

You sighed sarcastically, and tried to remember any person they didn't go into full detail about just a couple of hours ago. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, all of them kept getting mixed up in your head as you had no real idea as to what the three looked like. You passed by the cafeteria with Wonyoung earlier, where you didn’t quite register what Jay and Sunghoon looked like. Maybe it’s someone completely different, or someone affiliated with the three guys you had a fair amount of information about. 

“You drink, don’t you?” Niki asked, turning his head to face you for just a mere second, before focusing his eyes back on the road. 

“Not really” you answered unbothered. 

Drinking was nothing to be proud about anyways, and assuming Niki doesn't want to lose his recently acquired drivers license, he probably wasn't going to do it either. 

“Same here. Me and Wony don’t drink” he smiled “But the rest of them, their a different kind of fucked up. Especially your precious, sweet, innocent boyfriend, Wonyoung” he added, and looked at the girl through his rear view mirror. 

She screwed her face jokingly “Sunghoon doesn't drink that much, at least now that he’s with me” she defended, and he scoffed. 

“And you’re stupid for thinking he’s not getting shit faced every weekend with his demonic cult of a friend group” he commented, and she huffed in annoyance crossing her arms. 

“Y/nnie, you know what Hoon looks like, right?” she turned her attention to you. 

You shook your head, causing her to pull out her phone in order to present you with pictures of her beloved boyfriend. 

He was smoking fucking hot, but his expression and lack of emotion on every picture made you think that maybe Niki was right, he truly looked like he didn't give a single fuck about the girl. Well it seems to be working out for them so far, so who are you to butt in. 

“Keep an eye on him, I need to prove that my boyfriend is not the alcoholic and druggie you-” she pointed her finger at Niki “make him out to be” 

“No problem” you smiled and she excitedly held your hand. 

“Just when you do catch him chugging down shot glasses like a pig, don't tell her cause she won't believe you anyways” he murmured, but the both of you heard him anyways. 

You turned to Wonyoung and rolled your eyes playfully which she gave you a hushed giggle at, agreeing with whatever you were thinking about. 

The road felt like it had been going on forever, you swore you already saw the same street signs and lanterns a couple minutes back. It felt like Niki had been going in circles, but those thoughts were most likely caused by your absence in this area of town. 

After what felt like an eternity in Niki’s uncomfortable low-floor car, that was impossible to get comfortable in, he had finally pulled over into a gravel filled space. In the distance a modern house was illuminated by colorful lights, and the music could be quietly heard from the place you were standing in. 

The interior of the place was suffocating you, the music giving you a headache, the smell of cigarettes, weed, alcohol and sweat seeping into your skin, as you and Wonyoung pushed through the crowd. Wonyoung didn't seem to be affected as she pushed through the bodies in order to find her boyfriend who she must have missed terribly for the past five hours. 

“Sunghoonnie!” she beamed, and his body instantly turned to the sound of her squeaky voice. 

He was hard to read, you didn't exactly know if he was excited to see her or praying for her to leave him and his friends alone. He held a glass with a brownish liquid in his hand, and you knew for a fact Wonyoung was trying to ignore it or pretend it wasn't what everyone else knew it was. 

Sunghoon was obviously drinking whiskey. 

Even they're choice of alcohol was so different from what you knew back in your public school. Those kids could barely afford the cheapest liquor, and here you were witnessing Sunghoon and his friends downing bottles worth more than the pocket money your brother gave you every month. 

“Oh great, two Wonyoung’s. Can’t women just stick to painting their nails and doing their makeup? This is not the place for you” Jay commented as he finally noticed the two of you. 

“Did your daddy teach you that? I wasn't talking to you, dickhead” the girl next to you answered with a sarcastic pout to her face. 

“I’m Jake” the brown haired boy stuck his hand out “You're new, right?” 

Wonyoung had already let you go to entertain her boyfriend who obviously was not having it. Even as she was eating his face, he wasn't half as passionate about it as she was. 

“Yeah” you took his hand “Y/n” 

He had a devilish grin as he and the blond boy exchanged glances. 

“So where are you coming from?” Jake asked, but his eyes weren't even focused on your face, instead staring right into your partially exposed chest. 

You sighed, and leaned against the wall “Doesn't matter” maybe you had a terrible judgment of character, but you knew that admitting to coming from a public, low income school would end you right then and there. 

“You’re right, it doesn't” he smirked, hoping that you had understood his intentions by now, “Want a drink?” he asked, turning around to unveil a couple glasses and a bottle of Dalmore whiskey. 

“I don't really drink” you explained, trying to keep up with your nonchalant facade that you prayed would spare you some embarrassment tonight. 

It felt stressful to be around them, their demeanor intimidating. 

“Oh c’mon, one little glass never hurt anyone” Jay uttered, already pouring a glass that he was shoving into your hand a couple seconds later. 

He looked incredibly hot doing so, his slicked back blond hair and white button down almost making you forget he’s a mentally unstable and misogynistic idiot. 

Did they all have to be so irresistibly hot? Was being rich not enough? 

“Drink it, there’s a reward afterwards” he added, as his attempts to place the glass in your hand turned out to be successful. 

“Only if you’re a good girl” Jake added, and Jay with a devilish smile hit his shoulder. 

You examined the glass, remembering all the stories of boys spiking drinks with drugs that Eunseok told you about, but all that seemed so unimportant right now. 

You promised yourself to never go against what your mind told you, but that was broken the minute you downed the glass, the unfamiliar, burning flavor coating your throat. 

“Atta girl” Jake praised, as he took the glass from your hand.

“Women are so easy, it’s crazy” Jay whispered, assuring you wouldn't hear his words “Let me pour you another one” he said, his voice a little louder this time. 

You shook your head, but he seemed to ignore that all together, grabbing the cup and filling it to the brim once again. 

“Drink up” Jake slurred, and focused his eyes onto the way your throat looked while you swallowed the liquid. 

They were disgusting. The way they objectified you, the way they looked at you like you were going to let them hit without any problems. 

The boys you knew would make jokes, but they’d never act on it like Jay and Jake did. 

You slammed the glass on the table where it was previously laid, and without a word turned away from the two men who were clearly confused about your sudden departure. 

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Jake called, and with a forced smile you mouthed a ‘Maybe’. 

“She still doesn't know about all the filth that goes on in here, eh?��� Jay chuckled devilishly, and Jake smirked, pouring himself a drink in the cup you left behind. 

You had already thought that Wonyoung and Niki were completely different from the people you used to surround yourself with, but after meeting Jake and Jay, you cursed yourself for even thinking that. You had given up your social life, so meeting new people regularly was never something that you did, but you never met someone so deranged. Were the girls at this school all so easy and compliant to their orders? You just wondered where their ego came from. 

Squeezing through all the damp bodies was definitely a challenge, but finding a quiet and empty room surely made it worth it. 

The room was practically empty, you assumed something that was supposed to resemble a guest bedroom, but you doubted any guest would wanna sleep here. A single bed in the middle of the large room was not enough. 

You closed the door behind you with a quiet squeak, and threw yourself on the bed, your eyes facing the ceiling. 

Amongst the weird smell that surrounded the room a voice called you “You're the new girl, aren't you?” 

You didn't notice the open balcony door upon entering. 

Your body automatically turned to face the voice, a handsome and presumably tall boy sat on one of the plastic chairs. Smoke circled around him as he looked at you with heavy eyelids, taking another hit from the joint between his fingers. 

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand “How do you know?” 

“News spreads fast around here. You don’t know, do you?” he gave you a childish smile, and with a nod to his head he without a word offered you to smoke with him, which you declined. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him, his dark eyes bringing discomfort to your body. 

“Why should I tell you, transfer?” he laughed, and you stiffened up at his answer. “It’s Heeseung” he said after a moment, noticing that you were not enjoying his jokes. 

Lee Heeseung was the youngest son of Lee Guwon and Kim Shinhye, the founders and owners of the largest hotel line in the country. They just recently went international, opening yet another hotel-restaurant in the heart of Singapore. His older sister, Lee Rina, had no interest in the company, firmly convinced that it's a greedy industry. She moved to Norway to study and just never came back. But his older brother, Lee Haejun, was different. He was stuck on the idea of becoming the next CEO. After both him and Heeseung were old enough to understand what benefits came with being a leader of a major hotel line, they stopped treating each other like brothers, instead focusing on the rivalry that was brewing. They wanted so badly to prove to their father who's more competent, who deserves it more, that at one point it became too much. 

Heeseung at one point no longer wanted any of it. He just wanted his brother back. Haejun just never was the same brother Heeseung learned to love. He didn't care. Heeseung felt like he lost both of his siblings although they weren't actually gone. 

“I don’t think they mentioned you” you murmured, trying to recall the conversations you had with Wonyoung and Niki. 

“Wonyoung and Niki? Probably because they don't like me” he laughed, and put out his blunt on the tiles of the balcony, throwing what was left into a jar filled with water. 

“They like everyone, I think it’s a ‘you’ problem” you assumed, and he scoffed. 

His body sluggishly stood up from the chair, as he tried to not fall over the balcony “Both of them are fake as fuck, and I don’t think you’re one to judge” 

You sighed “You don’t know them” 

“I know them better than you, transfer” he chuckled, “They always cuddle up to new students, just like Wonyoung did to Jake, and whenever they go slightly out of line, they drop them” he explained, and you foolishly didn't believe his words, choosing to stand with your new friends who you in reality, knew nothing about. 

“I don’t know, I don't think the Jake that I just met, and got forced to drink by, is a good example” you murmured, playing with your hair, avoiding eye contact with the boy. 

He had this dark aura surrounding him, his hooded eyes just adding into his image, making him look much more scary. 

He slowly moved towards you, accompanying you on the silk covered bed. That’s when you could truly analyze his face; bloodshot, brown eyes, a curve to his lips, his nose slightly pointed and eyebrows straight. His skin was glistening, a soft tan to it. He looked at you so intensely, and you couldn't quite reciprocate, scared of his intimidating presence. 

“Jake was always like this, they just didn't know how to handle him” he smiled, his hand inching closer to where your legs lied “They love saying that Jay ruined him, but he didn't even have to do that” 

“What do you mean by having to do that? Why would he have to?” you asked, as your body froze, not allowing you to move further away from him. 

He didn't stop attempting to close the gap between the two of you “You know what I mean” he smirked “This isn't the place you think it is, pretty girl. We can't have a goody two shoes prancing around” his smile was straight, as his hand moved to sooth your lower thigh. 

You never were this close to a boy before. 

“I still don't get it” you said, your voice trembling as he moved further up. 

“You don't need to, you’ll see for yourself. Soon, don't worry” he cooed, and you could feel his sinister words burn through your skin. 

“You like this? Tell me” he asked, his grip on your thigh tightened, and you felt words get stuck in your throat. 

“ I don’t know you, Heeseung” you answered out of breath. 

He liked the way his name slipped from your lips, your tone mellow and soothing. He could definitely get used to it. 

“You don’t need to know everyone you want to have a little fun with” his eyes twinkled slightly, as he spoke softly, trying to distract you from his touch moving to places you  probably wouldn't like him being in. 

“Do you do this to every girl you just meet?” you piqued, and he chuckled, finally taking out his hand from under your dress in order to move a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Only the ones I find pretty” he answered. 

Heeseung was such a lightweight, he couldn't stop his smile and laughter as he played with you, knowing you could pretend, but not resist him. He wanted to undress you right there and then, behind an unlocked door, which he’d hoped some disgusting pervert like Jake would open, they could perhaps have you together, share your body. But he was smarter than that. He couldn't alienate you so early on. 

“Maybe another time” you murmured, giving up your previous position to stand up from the bed. 

He didn't let you, standing up with you, blocking you from walking to the door. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to hold you down. 

“You wanted to get to know me, what happened to that?” he whispered. 

“I never said that” you replied, and attempted once again to leave the room. 

No one has ever had this effect on you. You didn't truly want to leave, not only his firm stance was keeping you away from that door. 

You had boyfriends, but all of them were too scared to even hold your hand in public, not to mention kiss you. So you were aware of these things, but not familiar with them. 

“Why do you have to be so tough? I just want to make you feel good? What’s the crime in that?” he cooed, and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. 

“I always wanted it to be special, not some one night stand” you voiced, and he hummed. 

It felt so weird and embarrassing to talk to him like this. You didn't know him. You also couldn't say no, cause some part of you wanted it too. 

Maybe it’s because you wanted to fit in, maybe because you didn't want to be any different from the people that went to this school. But you’d always be different- as long as your parents weren't owners of a giant conglomerate or business, you’d always be different. 

“My sweet girl is a virgin? That’s okay, don’t be embarrassed” he cooed, and squeezed your hand tightly. 

You never knew how hard it is to be sober and talk to a high person. He just didn't fully comprehend the environment that surrounded him, not a single ounce of fear or embarrassment in his veins, just nothingness. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked with a soft voice.

Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how his slurred words sounded and how they affected you. 

You nodded, and he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into his embrace. Nothing could have prepared you for his wet, plump lips that molded perfectly into yours. You felt so good against him, and he couldn't find himself pulling away, the bulge in his pants growing as you fingers slightly brushed along the longer strands of hair on the back of his head. 

It was all so new to you. Maybe it was the alcohol that Jake and Jay forced down your throat, or maybe you just couldn't help but naturally feel attracted to Heeseung. It’s been barely 24 hours, and you’ve broken all the promises you made to yourself. 

While you were overthinking, Heeseung wondered just how long until he gets to fuck your pretty, virgin hole.  

“Mmm, it wasn't that hard, was it?” he smiled as he was forced to pull away out of lack of air, his eyes practically closing on him. 

You avoided his gaze, a small smile on your swollen lips. He laughed softly, and grabbed your hand in his. 

“I just want to help you. You’re a big girl, you should know how the world works” he cooed, dumbing you down. But you accepted it. Every word of his you took in and analyzed. Maybe he was right. 

He was this big, important rich guy from an important family, and you were just living in his world. You were nothing like him, his worries surrounded taking over the company or not, while you had to wonder if you had the money to go out with your friend on the weekend. You could try, but you’ll never be the same. 

And Heeseung knew that. He knew how much power he had over you simply because his bank account was decorated by nothing less than quadruple digits. 

“I don’t think you should be hanging out with Wonyoung and Niki. They're fake, you know?” he whispered, and focused his eyes on you “Let me be the one you come to when you need help, okay?” 

You nodded, and he just hummed in approval, liking the way you agreed with anything he said. 

You knew he was treating you like a child, babying you and bossing you around like he even had any right to do so, but you didn't find yourself stopping him either. 

To you he spoke with such delicacy, and he paid attention to you in a way no one ever has. Heeseung was different from anyone you encountered, and that’s exactly what pulled you in, forcing you to uncover more about him. 

But he just liked how you gave into his words way easier than he thought you would. He never knew it would be this easy to manipulate you. Heeseung never expected you to so naively believe that Wonyoung and Niki were the ones who were going to do you wrong, that they were the ones to cuddle up to new students in order to drop them just moments later. He had you where he wanted you and it didn't even take him a full hour. 

______

“You didn’t text me last night, did you get home alright?” Wonyoung asked, settling down next to you in the study hall. 

You ignored her gaze, her shuffling and moving, making an annoyed groan escape from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you replied swiftly, turning your attention back to the worksheet in front of you. 

Heeseung’s words had stuck with you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of Niki and Wonyoung, one of the nicest, most welcoming people you have ever met, being bullies. But perhaps that was the reason for their warm introduction. They wanted you to trust them. 

Niki, noticing that Wonyoung had finally joined you in the study hall, turned around in his chair, taking out one of his airpods. 

“Did you find who we were talking about in the car? A special someone told me they saw you together last night” Niki smiled widely like an idiot, and Wonyoung giggled, awaiting your answer. 

You scoffed “The so-called devil” and murmured “Heeseung, right? He was very nice, I don’t get it” 

They laughed, and you felt something twist inside of you at the sound of their forced posh, and elegant laughter. 

“That’s the point. He’s nice at first, to get you to like him, trust him, and then he strikes” Niki told, and to you it sounded like he was describing his little mutual admiration circle with Wonyoung. 

“I don’t know, honestly. He seemed like a good person” you inquired quietly, trying to focus on the work you had to do. 

“Let me guess, he asked for consent, or said he ‘just wants to help you’, and you believed he’s a respectful guy? Y/n don’t be so naive” Wonyoung said sternly, and you scoffed, remembering how her boyfriend’s best friends treated you. Sunghoon was probably no different, so who was she to judge? 

“You're dating Sunghoon, Wonyoung. Mind you, he’s one of the all so bad Heeseung’s friends” 

Niki and Wonyoung looked at each other confused, wondering why you were suddenly being so cold and distant. 

“He wasn’t like that always,” she said, and you looked at her questioning. 

“You think people can change so drastically, just like that? He always had it in him, he just found the right people to unleash it with, that’s all” you answered, and she felt her body shift slightly. 

Sunghoon transferred to Saint Matthews in his sophomore year, after studying abroad in an international school in Singapore. No one could really know if Sunghoon was any different before he joined, because he almost immediately hit it off with Heeseung, and his friend group. 

“You don’t know what you're talking about” Niki said, with an annoyed look on his face. 

“Oh kill me then. All I know is the shitty little gig you’re playing on me. I know what you guys do to new students- shape them to be your perfect little servant, and then drop them when it stops being amusing to you. Just like you did to Jake. So stop trying to blame everything on Heeseung when you know damn well he's not a bad person” you replied frustrated, collecting all your things, and standing up to leave the space. 

Niki and Wonyoung were stunned at your words, following you until you disappeared out the door. 

They realized you truly had met Heeseung, and that there was no turning back now. 

Just like any girl, he had you tied to his leash, and they were powerless. 

____

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I didn’t expect her to fold so easily” Heeseung laughed, as he downed another shot of tequila Jay stole from his dads alcohol cabinet. His father owned so many bottles he probably wouldn’t notice one of them went missing. 

Just like he didn’t notice his son's worsening alcoholic tendencies. 

“No trust me, she didn’t even fight back that much when we offered her whiskey” Jake sneered, and Jay grinned evilly. 

Jay was the first one to notice you. He caught a glimpse of you as you stood so shyly in the cafeterias entryway, Wonyoung happily talking to you, as you looked around the place. He didn’t recognize your face.  

You were pretty to him. Your face gleaned with innocence, and he could smell the way you were so intimidated by the people and sinister atmosphere of the school. He couldn’t even bother listening to whatever Sunghoon was going on about next to his ear, focused on only you. He knew exactly what happened to sweet girls like you, and he couldn’t wait for it. 

And maybe at one point in time he could have you too. His big hands would slowly take off your shirt, his fingers slipping down under your jeans, pressing against your pulsing core. You’d tell him to stop, and he’d only laugh in your ear, unbuckling his belt. 

“Wonyoung said she flipped off on them today when they mentioned you” Sunghoon tuned to Heeseung, pouring himself another shot “Niki said it’s like this with every girl, and she totally went bonkers on them or some shit” he laughed before his face twisted as the burning liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s so pathetic. She doesn’t even know him” Jake chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, his back melting into the soft cushion. 

“That’s like the whole point, she isn’t supposed to know,” Heeseung noted, and they nodded slightly. “And I don’t think that’s more pathetic than Wonyoung leeching onto Sunghoon even though he doesn’t even hide the fact he doesn’t like her in the slightest” 

Jay scoffed sarcastically “Defending her so quickly, sure” he hummed, and Heeseung rolled his eyes. 

“My mom got her a campaign with our company, and now she thinks we’re gonna get married. It’s so annoying” Sunghoon explained, and they laughed. 

“Then just breakup with her. She needs you, but you don’t need her, dude” Jake commented, and Sunghoon shook his head lively. 

“She’s nice to have around. And it’s not like I don’t like her at all, she just gets on my nerves” he explained. 

“When my mom pissed off my dad, she got divorce papers handed to her, and kicked out the door. Women are supposed to serve men, not be an obstacle. All she is, is an obstacle. You’re taking over your mom’s company, you can’t let her get in the way” Jay turned to Sunghoon, who just pretended to listen to his nonsense. 

Maybe Jay was one of his best friends, but he couldn’t bear listening to his bullshit. He grew up around women- a single mother, his nannies who were strictly women (since his mother didn’t trust men around her only child), and cousins who were practically only girls. He knew women could achieve things alone, his mother being his best example. 

“So, what is your plan?” Jake averted his gaze to Heeseung, who didn’t seem to be amused by the conversation surrounding you and Wonyoung. 

“Was there ever a plan? She doesn’t even put up a fight, and already blew up on her new friends. This won’t be hard” he answered, and Jake nodded, satisfied with Heeseung’s answer. 

“I think you guys are wasting your time, honestly” Sunghoon commented. 

Jay looked at him annoyed “You and your feminist bullshit again” he murmured, and didn’t even bother pouring the substance into his shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle. 

“Jesus Christ, Jay. Just cause I have the tiniest percentage of respect for women, doesn’t mean I’m some fucking feminist. I’m not stopping you from seducing that girl, I just think it’s a waste of time. If you want pussy so bad, just find yourself a hook up, it’s not that hard” he answered, and Jay seemed to accept his answer, too tired to start another fight about this with his friend. 

“We’re only 19, Sunghoon. It won't hurt to have some fun while we can” Jake piqued, and with a swift movement of his hand, grabbed the bottle from the floor, tilting it to pour the rest of liquid into his mouth. 

“I just think that's kind of unappreciative” he murmured, and all of them turned to him. Jay rolled his eyes and with a sigh ushered Sunghoon to continue “A shit load of kids our age don't get to have half the opportunities we do, so if I were you I wouldn't fuck around so much, but actually put in the work to maybe prove that we aren't fucking imbeciles who just sit around and get chauffeured all day” he explained, and they all looked at him with a confused gaze. 

“Says the one who is failing practically all his classes. And what does any of that have to do with Y/n? What do you like her or something? You can hit if you want, it’s an open game” Jay laughed, and Sunghoon sighed.

But he wasn't annoyed, just incredibly frustrated that none of his friends understood what he was trying to convey to them. 

He didn't study, at least not much, and even though he was always aware of the fact that he will most definitely take over his mothers company, he didn't quite like the idea of people thinking he only did because there were no other options. In some way he wanted to earn it, or at least feel like he did deserve it. 

“It’s most definitely not an open game” Heeseung commented, and Jay looked at him with wide eyes. 

“What? C’mon dude, she’s some public school transfer, it’s just fun and games. Don't start being all protective and jealous over her” he scoffed, this being the second time that Heeseung made a comment of that sort about you. 

Jay didn't like this new found protectiveness Heeseung had acquired for you even though barely 24 hours ago he was making equally nasty and perverted comments about you. 

“You're being an asshole today, you know that right?” Heeseung started, his eyes scanning the room, avoiding Jay. 

“I’m being an asshole? All of you suddenly started acting like some fuckass henpecked husbands, when this would be the exact behavior you’d make fun of just a month ago” he groaned, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m sorry Jay that your mom doesn't love you, and your dad only sees you as a token of business, but we weren't raised like that” Sunghoon said, standing up from his seat, ready to leave. 

“That’s fucked up Hoon” Jake whispered, looking at Jay’s spechless expression. 

“You know what else is fucked up Jake? That Jay is a fucking misogynist and Heeseung is some otherworldly type of addict and no is trying to help them. I have been the only person who has been putting in the slightest amount of effort to try and get them help, but I can't possibly do it alone. That’s fucked up Jaeyun. I’m leaving” he blew up, grabbing all his things, and with a tired sigh he left the living room, going straight for the door. 

It was true. Maybe Sunghoon was an idiot and sometimes acted like a huge asshole, but he was right. He loved his friends and seeing them ruin and throw their lives away hurt him. But everyone who was caught up in the same wind, didn't seem to notice. 

“Call me when you fucking grow up, Sunghoon” Jay shouted, an angered expression plastered all over his face as the door slams abruptly. 

All three of them sat in silence as they tried to figure out what happened in the span of just a couple minutes. How did the conversation come down to Jay and Heeseung having issues, and why was Sunghoon suddenly trying to act all sweet and caring when he never did care.

 Or at least they didn't notice the countless times Sunghoon tried to stop them, but to no avail. 

“I think I’m gonna go too,” Heeseung said, after a moment of dead silence. 

Without a word, Jay and Jake nodded, still not quite present in the moment. 

That’s exactly how Heeseung ended up in your home, dumping all his issues onto you as you attempted to comfort him with a slight brush of your fingers against his soft hair. 

Your outbreak with Wonyoung and Niki, left you feeling alone once again. Those thoughts kept eating you alive, but you knew that's exactly what they wanted. They wanted you to desperately crawl back to them, begging for another chance as you cried out an apology. 

You knew that coming back to them would only prove this (untrue) point of them using you and many others for their own pleasure. Turning around, and apologizing would hurt your pride beyond repair. 

And it wasn't like Heeseung was making this up either. His heart genuinely cracked at the sight of his friends fighting. 

They fought, all the time, but there was no comparing this to a fight over who gets to take the first hit or who gets to play the better character, to Sunghoon leaving completely, his harsh words still lingering in the air. 

He wasn't an addict. He was a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. He wasn't wrong for being curious.

“I’m happy that you stood up for me today, at study hall” he said, his voice low as your touch was putting him in a sleepy state. 

“How do you know about that?” you asked, not even having the time to tell him about it. 

He smiled, rolling on his side to face you “Sunghoon told me” 

“Are you really not mad at me?” you tilted your head curiously. 

He laughed, and lifting himself from your lap, he grabbed your hand in his. You could feel his warm touch embrace you fully, the action alone was enough to calm your uneasy heart. 

“No one stands up for me. I could never be mad at you for being on my side even though you barely know me” he admitted, and it made your plush lips form into a small smile. 

“Your friends never stand up for you? I find that hard to believe, Hee” 

He likes the way his name slips from your lips, the usage of the nickname forcing him to stifle the growing, uncomfortable feeling in his pants. He hated the fact that he had to control himself around you. But still, he loved the innocent look on your face as you were so oblivious to the boner in his pants. 

“They just don't know how to, I think,” he said in a whisper. “They're too caught up in their own lives, and I don't blame them. They have a lot on their plate as it is” he added, his lips forming into a straight smile, as he tried to look apologetic in front of you. 

Heeseung wanted you to see him as this complex, emotional being that's only purpose on earth is to help others. His financial situation wasn't helping him create this image, he feared that you’d think he’s just searching for problems, wanting to experience life with all the hardships that a person like him doesn't usually get bothered by. 

But you never thought so, you viewed Heeseung the exact way he wanted you to. You believed in every word he said. If only he knew that though, his cocky nature would probably fight its way to domination. 

“You’re a good friend, Heeseung” you smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He chuckled lightly, looking at you with the same straight smile “You have me now, you know that? You said you’d help me whenever, and I want to do the same for you” 

You vividly remember his lips on yours. You can recall exactly how he tasted and how he felt against your own skin. He helped you reach some otherworldly ecstacy without going further than a simple touch. You knew you wanted him to be more, but it was too early for that admission, too early to let yourself sink in that feeling. 

You didn't understand what was going on between the two of you, where this connection was heading, and in some way it thrilled you. You couldn't possibly be friends, not after what he said that night. 

“I hope you know I meant everything I said” he uttered, and you slowly nodded, trying to recall every word that slipped from his pretty lips “I think you’re special” he added. 

Heeseung didn't know himself if this was all fake, cause at that moment it felt too real to him. He was speaking from his heart, in some way. 

Lee Heeseung was beautiful, the closest you’ll get to any godly figure. He couldn't possibly be flawed in any way. 

But there were some things the boy wouldn't even admit to himself. All the fighting, and neglecting, made him out to be this way. He always longed for the type of love no one but a parent could give him. He wanted to be loved so much it picked him apart. Heeseung never experienced what it’s like to care for someone so much, to care for someone unconditionally. 

And as the youngest sibling, no one had that love for him, because there was someone before him. 

“I’m definitely not special, Hee. It’s all you” you smiled, and he laughed softly, his eyes falling onto his lap as a rosy tint decorated his cheeks. 

“It could always be just us. You could come over, and stay till morning” he turned to you, a newfound sincerity in his eyes, as he spoke to you. 

“You’d want that?” you uttered quietly. 

The faint melody playing from the radio became muffled as you sat next to him. You never felt closer to another person, and it was all so new to you. 

“Mhm, really” he confessed, and you believed. 

It was all so domestic- he wanted to escape his family line, but he behaved just like them. Heeseung could never change the blood he was born with, blood of condescending, arrogant, manipulative, money hungry assholes. 

“Will you promise to stay with me?” he asked, ending the comforting silence that embraced you. 

You laughed lightly, finding his worries sweet “I promise” you said sticking out your pinky finger. 

“You still do that?” he said with a soft chuckle. You pouted awaiting his finger that could solidify the promise. 

He laughed and intertwined his pinky with yours. 

_______ 

Spending time with Heeseung was easy. He just always knew what to say and what to do. He was like the sweetest thing bee’s like you would fly towards. 

He had eventually introduced you to Jake, Jay and Sunghoon who eagerly apologized for coming onto you and forcing alcohol down your throat at the party, and stupidly you laughed it off not wanting to give them reasons to dislike you. 

You wanted to fit in with them. Eunseok wasn't as happy, trying to keep up with your new lifestyle, but something deep inside him didn't want to stop. He knew he owed it to you after the years of neglect his parents had presented you with. After the years of living in his shadow maybe this was the only way to repay you. 

Jake had seemed awfully desperate when you first met him. He looked and acted like one of those sleazy guys who adds girls on snapchat and sends them unsolicited dick pics, but he quickly managed to prove you wrong. You rarely spent time alone with him, almost never, but whenever that moment came, Jake became a completely different person. He was nice. He was actually so painstakingly nice to the point where you would ponder his existence in that friend group. 

And Jay- you felt nothing towards the boy. The one thing Wonyoung and Niki got right was his obvious desire to become a Korean Andrew Tate. He had nothing to give except misogynist comments he’d pretend were only jokes, and if you dared to be offended then you simply had no sense of humor. 

Sunghoon, it was hard to describe him. He just didn't really talk much. He was never there, he wasn't present although sitting just across from the ongoing conversation. Maybe he always was this way, or maybe you were the problem. 

But Heeseung, he felt some kind of obsession towards you. He wanted to carve his initials deep into your skin until you bleed a deep shade of red, all out of love for him. He wanted to touch you in the places your mere, inexperienced fingers couldn't reach. He couldn't understand you, he couldn't bear the fact that you didn't fit into the pattern, and it made him sick. 

“Get a fucking grip Y/n!” Wonyoung screamed, tugging at the thick material of your blazer. 

She pulled you discreetly into a dark hallway that connected the music hall to the rest of the school. 

“Don’t touch me” you uttered, trying to peer away from the girl. 

Wonyoung didn't look mad, angry, her face was full of desperation as her glassy eyes looked at your tired face. 

“Don't you see what he’s doing to you? He’s trying to ruin you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!” she begged for understandment but your face was blank. 

“Are you jealous? What is this about, Wonyoung? God, If you want Sunghoon’s attention then go ask him for it. I don’t know you, and you don't know me” you grit your teeth, as she looked at you terrified. 

“What are you even talking about?” she uttered, her voice cracking. 

“I’m done playing your game. Find another person to play with, I’m sure there's plenty” you replied. 

“Y/n you're not one of us. You never will be, so stop trying so hard. Getting with Heeseung won't help you fit in either. And you better not come to me when he destroys whatever reputation you have left” her words were harsh, and it seemed like your mention of Sunghoon riled her up completely. 

Wonyoung and Sunghoon have been dating for a while now. Only Wonyoung would know the exact timeline since Sunghoon had no interest in celebrating milestones with the girl. 

It wasn't like he didn't like her at all, he wouldn't give her the time of day if that was the case. He just found it thrilling and entertaining, the way she called his name, the way she’d give up everything for him if he asked. Sunghoon’s mother had set him up with the eldest daughter of Taesung Group the moment she found out he’d be a boy, so to him, Wonyoung was just a distraction from the tiring business life his mother engulfed him in. 

“Give it up, Jang Wonyoung” a male voice echoed, footsteps coming closer. 

She looked disgusted when the vision of the boy became clearer. 

“Didn't manipulate her enough today, so you had to come do it here? Fuck off, Heeseung” she sneared. 

Heeseung laughed, and grabbed your hand ostentatiously. Her gaze was glued to your intertwined hands. It made you smile slightly, the way her lip twitched at the vision, it was satisfying. 

“No one’s manipulating anyone. Sorry if that messes up your little narrative” he replied, with a smile that made her want to throw up. 

“I’ve been here long enough to know that's bullshit. You’re full of shit, Lee Heeseung” 

Your eyes flew back and forth as you tried to analyze everything about the situation. 

“Open your eyes, Y/n. Can’t you see it?” she whispered, her expression changing as she turned towards you. 

“I’m not like you, remember? So stop trying to give me advice, it’s pathetic” you voiced, and she scoffed.

“Did she say that to you” Heeseung looked down at you worriedly, and as soon as you nodded slightly, he looked back up to Wonyoung “And I’m the bad guy? At least she didn't have to convince Kim Sunoo’s parents to forcibly get her into the school” he smirked, and Wonyoung with a frustrated groan, positioned her body towards the music hall, leaving you two in the eerie hallway. 

Wonyoung was the best scoring student, but things used to be completely different. She despised studying, keeping a large distance from all sorts of books. But her parents couldn't fathom the idea that Wonyoung would not attend Saint Matthews. So with a bottle of expensive wine and some sweet words, the girl's parents got her in using their connection to Kim Sunoo’s parents who were major politicians in the country. 

She didn't like people bringing that up ever since it drunkenly slipped her while at a birthday party, so Heeseung exposing it in front of you had her embarrassed for the rest of the day. She wanted you to believe her badly, but the revelations only confirmed all your speculations about the girl, making it practically impossible for you to listen to anything she has to say to you from now on. 

… 

“God Wonyoung is such a bitch! Is she jealous? What is her issue seriously” you complained, pacing around Heeseung’s terrifyingly large room. 

It was your first time over at the boys house. It was unusual for you, all the maids showing you around, treating you like royalty, guiding you to every room. Their fake smiles, and forced acts of kindness made you sick. 

His house was colossal, massive, it extended into a vast land and the drive up to it alone was long-lasting. The walk from your apartment to a nearby store wasn’t half the length of his home, and it was appalling to you in a way. 

Heeseung’s room, for contrast, was bright, warm and welcoming. The sunlight shined down on his belongings from the ceiling high window, creating a special space where all his piano, guitars and other musical instruments lay. You recall him telling you about his passion for music, but you took it as more of an underground soundcloud rapper type of situation. 

“It’s just Sunghoon. It’s always been about Sunghoon” he answered calmly, sitting down on his couch, and with his wrought hand, patted down his lap, beckoning you to come to him. 

“Your friends are nice, and all, but you know nothing can substitute a girl best-friend. I just hoped she would be different” you sighed, and placing yourself on Heeseung’s lap, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck, head slightly leaning on his shoulder. 

His hands instinctively encased your waist, his head moving along with his eyes, as he tried to get a better look at your worn out face. 

For a moment Lee Heeseung felt bad, seeing how much comfort the two of you found in each other, knowing he can’t possibly let this go on longer. It started off with pure lust, a need to ruin the scholarship student that knows nothing about life from this side. Now  he was finding himself wanting more, knowing he can’t give it. 

Heeseung wanted to wreck your innocent image, but found himself losing it far before he even had the chance to start his plan. 

“They’re your friends now too, Y/n” he whispered, the moment feeling way too sacred “She’s lying, you know that right?” he asked after a moment of silence. He looked at you once again, checking for your expression. 

“I know, Seungie” your voice is muffled by the material of his jacket, but he can hear your words loud and clear. 

He feels like all the air in his lungs has been vacuumed up, as his last breath hitches in his throat. He feels sick. Your pretty eyes look at him with so much sincerity, trust, yet all he can think about is vivid images of your small frame under him. He can't help but wonder just how much prettier you’d look with tears in your eyes as you’d tell him it hurts. 

His fingers slightly slide over the buttons of your blouse, as he continues to stare deeply into your face, searching for signs to stop. But you look towards him indifferently, a calm expression decorating your features. 

Heeseung’s hand hovers over your uncovered thigh. He wants to feel the wetness that seeps through your panties on his fingers so badly. He wants to slowly unbutton your blouse, his eyes scanning your figure, his hands grabbing onto anything. 

“Do you want to smoke with me?” he asked, hoping that his lessons on how to properly inhale would lead him to something a little more intimate. 

“I haven't done that yet” you admit, and he chuckles. 

“I know. This could be your first” he smiles “Remember, I told you I want to help you. Well I’m doing it now” he added, quickly 

“Am I going to be fine?” you asked, peeling your head off his shoulder to look at him properly. 

Heeseung smiles leaning back on the couch. His fingers delicately push stray strands of hair behind your ear “I’m fine, so I’m sure you’ll be okay” he assures and you nod moderately. 

You deliberately slide off his lap, as he stands up to rummage through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulls out a tin box with an adorable puppy on it, and you find it humorous in a way, considering the pretty design is hiding something so toxic inside. 

You remember the sight of high Heeseung very well. He seemed to scare you a little back then, his words slipped from his mouth with so much ease and confidence. 

“You don't have to worry, nobody really gets high on their first try” he places the box on his coffee table, carefully opening it up. 

“Well that’s no fun” you comment. 

“It isn't the case for every new smoker, but still no one really knows why,” he explained, using his extensive knowledge to educate you. 

It wasn't the ideal area of knowledge to know everything about, but it made Heeseung feel good. It made him feel safe whenever he smoked with his friends or new people. He always knew what to do and how to act if something were to go wrong. 

“This weed Jay sold off to me is hella dank, maybe you will feel something after all” he smiled, and even though you had no idea what he was saying, you reciprocated. 

Heeseung pulled out one of his filters, folding it and rolling it into a cylinder. He placed it at the end of his paper, filling it with cannabis and sprinkling just a bit of tobacco inside. He tightened it  and with his tongue moistened the shiny edge of the paper. 

“You need to feel the smoke travel down to your lungs” he explained, searching for a lighter in his pockets “Inhale for like 2 seconds, and take smaller hits so you don't cough so much” he smiled, finally pulling out a green lighter. 

You never were interested in smoking or drinking, but some part of you couldn't deny Heeseung. It was stupid, but perhaps this was your one way ticket to his heart. 

Heeseung lit the joint, staring intensely as the flame moved across the surface, waiting for the right moment to take the first hit. 

He inhaled, his teeth slightly gritting as he exhaled the smoke, the familiar scent hitting your nose. 

He held the blunt between his fingers, and moved closer towards you “I’ll guide you” 

Heeseung propped the lit cannabis next to your lips and with a nod to his head, ushered you to take it into your mouth. You assuringly looked at him, counting down the two seconds in your mind as a burning sensation coated your throat. You felt the smoke travel down to your lungs, pulling away to take a deep breath. With a small cough you exhaled, making Heeseung smile. 

He didn't know he’d enjoy seeing you like this “Good girl” 

You took a long sip of the water that has probably been on his coffee table for a long time, the liquid tasting a little weird. But you didn't care, the need to moisten your throat overpowering the unfresh taste.

“Was it good?” he asked, taking another rip. 

The smoke hit you in the face “Not the best” you answered honestly and he chuckled. 

“It gets better” he assured, and passed you the blunt again. 

… 

It felt weird. Weird in a good way. 

Your eyelids felt heavy, the laughter coming to you naturally. Obviously you didn't feel half as high as Heeseung who swore he was walking in slow motion, but you most certainly were enjoying yourself. 

To Heeseung it feels like an attack on his fragile ego, the fact that he has gotten so far but not on top of you just yet. And even with the minuscule bit of confidence he has earned right now, he needs to at least try. 

Your purity radiates off of every one of your laughs as you intently look at him, just slightly fiddling with the loose string on your skirt. If he moved just a little bit he would probably be able to see what's under the navy material. 

Heeseung’s pants start to feel uncomfortable against his skin once again as you keep on laughing so innocently at his ambiguous jokes only a virgin like you wouldn't understand. 

He wants to feel your lips against his again but this time he knows he won't stop at that. He can't. 

“I want to kiss you so bad” he admitted, and you felt an unknown wave rush through your veins, his face slowly inching closer. 

He waited patiently for a response, his mind well aware that any sudden move would cause his plan to backfire. 

But instead of letting him take the lead, you nearly closed the gap between the two of you, letting your lips just slightly graze against his, smiling as he waited impatiently. 

“Such a tease” he murmured before pressing his pretty mouth against yours, his hands traveling to the back of your neck, holding you still against him. 

He smiled into the kiss, his tongue tasting the familiar vanilla chapstick, the scent of your perfume hypnotizing, making a blur of Heeseung’s mind. The way your lips felt against him even though you were so inexperienced, it felt much more special to him. 

Heeseung’s lips never left your skin, traveling so delicately down to your jaw, placing chaste kisses everywhere he could. His ivory fingers held tightly onto your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he continued to slide down to your neck. 

He wasted no time leaving small, and visible marks, his teeth slightly biting into your skin, the quiet breaths that left your mouth, riling him up even further. 

“Can I?” he asked, Heeseung’s eyes going back and forth from your face to the buttons of your dress shirt. 

With your mouth parted and an unsteady breath you nodded. 

He smirked, and continued to attack your collarbones, his fingers unbuttoning your blouse with ease. 

“You’re so hot” he breathed onto your chest, pressing you down onto the mattress fully. 

The sweet noise that slipped from your lips, made a sly smile reappear on Heeseung's face, his cock twitching in his pants, the material suffocating him. 

If he moved down even a little bit, he’d probably be able to notice the soaking wet patch on your panties. 

The way his lips felt against almost every part of your body, the soft yet sudden touch of his fingers, it all felt way too good to give up. 

Heeseung gave you a knowing look, his face just a couple centimeters from your heat, his hands digging into your thighs. 

He noticed your relectuance “You know I just want to help you” he cooed, soothing down your skin, crawling right back up to face you “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl” 

You weren't afraid of many things in your life, but most importantly, being unraveled by Heeseung and him finding nothing he wants in there. 

You nodded slowly, his smile growing with each one of your nods. You didn't know what he’d do next, the blood in your body pumping faster as you anticipated his next move. 

Heeseung moved up your skirt, and as the fabric moved up, your skin burned with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your covered cunt, begging for his attention. 

“So wet” he commented, his hand gently pressing your sensitive core “I barely even touched you” he added, chuckling. 

He gave you one last glance searching for confirmation, which you once again gave him, before sliding off your underwear. Heeseung didn't even bother removing your skirt, his mouth wet with desire.

 Heeseung’s fingers barely hover over your folds, the sole heat that radiates off of him making you squirm, twitching slightly. 

He laughs “So sensitive and for what? Relax, pretty thing”. 

He positions himself against you, his eyes locking with yours as he places swift kisses on your inner thigh. His lips move down in a slow pace, and you have to stop yourself from pushing his head forward. Each peck burns on your shivering skin, overwhelming you to the bone. His breath felt soft on your bare flesh, fingers digging into your thighs. 

His tongue flicked out, coming in contact with you after what felt like eternity. Your legs fight the urge to close on him, his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure down your body. 

You grab at the nearest pillow, covering your face with it, embarrassed at how exposed you felt in front of him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping up all he could taste of you. 

The heat of his touch, the place that warmed you. The pulse, he could hold onto it alongside other rythmns. He just couldn’t get enough, he wanted to pry you open. Time faded away slowly, as he continued to devour you. 

You were on the edge, teetering between pleasure and pain, your body begging for release, as the knot in your stomach tightened.  

His mouth latched onto you, sucking and flicking with expert precision. He was enjoying himself, the sweet taste of innocence lacing his tongue. The sweet taste of crimson red innocence that he worked so hard to diminish, that he worked so hard to scrape you of. 

Heeseung was probably the closest you'll get to heaven in this lifetime. He was God's favorite, right at your thighs giving you the most beautiful form of pleasure avaliable. 

“Fuck” his chest heaves uneasily, his fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs “I could eat you out everyday” 

You wanted to beg him for more, beg him to let you release as it became even harder to hold it in. Completely and utterly lost in the new sensation, you roll your hips, gliding against his parted lips. 

“Keep doing that, fuck” he slurs, lost in a trance, his only goal being making you feel good. 

You caught a glimpse of him for just a moment- his pretty eyes so focused, his lips swollen and covered in your arousal. With every sound, every small movement, his actions became rougher, the feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable. 

“Cum for me, please” he mumbled against your skin, his desperation to make you cum fueled by the way you can't even form a proper sentence in response. 

Your fingers grip his bed sheets, his name falling from your lips multiple times before you feel the knot in your stomach quickly coming undone, a wave of intense pleasure washing over you. 

“Oh my god” you cried before fully releasing onto his face, his tounge desperately trying to lap up every single drop of his own hard work. 

Your whole body twitched in the aftermath of your climax, Heeseung still holding you down, his pretty lips back on your thighs and stomach, as he waited out your high with you. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, looking at you with lovesick eyes. 

With just a small blunt that barely got any of you high, Heeseung managed to get you just halfway where he needed you. Obviously, he’d rather have you on your knees in front of him, tears filling up your eyes as he pushed your head further down his cock, but this was enough to satisfy him, for now. 

He was peeling apart your innocence slowly, but surely, and his ego was never higher. 

______

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to Aeri Uchinaga. 

Aeri, or how everyone liked to call her, Giselle, was one of your closest friends from the “lower class” school you used to go to. She was like a sister to you, the only ‘family’ you ever truly had in your life.

You promised yourself to never let go of your values and never let your relationship with Aeri falter, but both of those things went down the drain a long long time ago. 

Seeing the messages between the two of you lose all their momentum, become less frequent, and come down to ‘How’s Saint Matthews’ or ‘How are you holding up over there?’ frightened you. 

Would she even want to talk to you? Would she pick up if you called? Would she care? 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just let it go?” you said, scrolling through all the messages you and Aeri shared over the past month, noticing how you could probably count them with two hands. 

Heeseung hummed, turning away from his calculus worksheets “I think if she cared enough she’d reach out. She should understand you're busy with your new life and be the first one to initiate conversations and all” 

It was partially true. Why should you be the only one to care and keep the friendship going? She should also try more, shouldn't she? 

“I’ve known her for years, Hee. I can't just let go that easily” you murmured, and he scoffed quietly. 

“But you have me now, isn't that enough?” he asked, his expression emotionless. 

Heeseung didn't even realize his words came out much more arrogantly than he intended. 

“I know, I’m sorry” you looked down “I just still want her to be in my life, that’s all” he hummed in approval, finding it annoying, the way your words implied like he wasn’t satisfying you in every sector. 

Jay, who sat opposite of you in the study hall, sighed ostentatiously. 

“Then just text her? I don't see the issue, seriously” he commented, pulling one of his airpods out of his ear, apparently tired of hearing you complain about such an ‘easy matter’. 

“It’s not that easy, Jay” Sunghoon mumbled, not taking his eyes off the work in front of him. 

Jay gave him a questioning look, deciding not to continue the conversation, way too tired for another fight with Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon had been behaving awfully weird ever since the fight at the apartment. He suddenly felt the need to comment on everything slightly negative that Jay or anyone else said towards you. That was one of the primal reasons for the group's continuous fighting. 

“Let’s get out of here” Heeseung turned to you after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

You nodded reluctantly, still not finished with the stacks of papers you had to complete by tonight. But you could never deny Lee Heeseung. Not with the way his eyes glare at you intensely, and definitely not with the way his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you away from the table, not leaving a second for goodbyes. Not like you’d want to fakely smile at Park Jongseong with a wave; you fucking hated his guts. 

“You’re being weird today” you notice, his body facing away from you, pulling you towards an unknown destination. 

You still haven't fully addressed the lingering tension that stuck to you after what happened. But since Heeseung didn't bother mentioning it, you decided that it probably would be better to leave it at that. Sex, with all the ways it came in, was normal, and you were sooo normal about it too. 

“I’m not” 

Heeseung couldn't avoid the growing pain in his heart, recalling whatever the fuck he did back at his house, seemingly starting to realize that it probably wasn't something he needed to do, but something he wanted to do. 

For fucks sake, he never came out with the initiative to eat a girl out, and he most definitely never just left it at that, not even getting his dick wet in the process. 

The usually loud and bustling atmosphere of the student common space seemed to be gone, the bean bags and couches empty, no student in hindsight. 

“I just can't be around them anymore,” he added after a rather long moment, sitting down with a thud on one of the black couches. 

“Did you fight again?” you asked, placing yourself down next to him, your hands almost automatically finding their way to his own. 

“You could say that” he chuckled, recalling how Jake once again brought up your topic, which led to yet another heated discussion. 

“You should talk to them, this has been happening way too much recently” you ushered, and he shook his head with another small laugh. 

“They are most definitely not those kinds of people. Don't think I've had a serious conversation with them like ever”

Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon have been friends for quite a long time now, especially Heeseung and Jay, and their lack of communication was astonishing. Every fight would be brushed off, they’d just pretend nothing happened and laugh it off. Every hard decision would have to be made individually because asking for advice was pointless. It wasn't easy with them and Heeseung knew that. 

“Either way, I’m happy you talk to me about it, maybe it can ease your mind just a little” you smiled, and he reciprocated, looking at you. 

“Yeah, it does help” he confirmed, and leaned back. 

Heeseung lived by night. As soon as the sun set it was as if his sins were disguised. So he hated the way his mind was slowly coming to the realization that the stupid plan he made was set for disaster the moment he sought out for you in the morning. 

“Do you want to come over after classes?” he asked, playing with the hem of your skirt, the seemingly innocent action making your heart flutter nervously. 

“I’m over there almost everyday” you laugh, and so does he, a snide smile on his lips. 

“You know your fate then” he says, his hand still inching closer, the public space that surrounded you having no effect on him. 

“Why are your parents never home?” you ask, and he finds it humorous in a way. Obviously owners of a multimillion company would never find time to spend back at home with their adult sons. 

The difference between you and Heeseung was that you knew your parents wouldn't be there to welcome you home everyday. You knew it was impossible. Heeseung could only suspect or assume, because his parents had given up on telling him when they’ll return from a business trip a long time ago. 

“They’re busy, I guess” he said, with a small sigh “Or at least they pretend to be, I wouldn't be shocked if the multiple business trips were just vacations” he laughed, his gaze falling onto you again. 

“At least you have your brother there” you smiled and he chuckled, he most definitely did not have a brother in reality. 

“Honestly, if he wasn't there it wouldn't make much of a difference” Heeseung sighed, and even though he’s gotten used to the relationship he shared with his brother, it still saddened him in a way. 

“It’s about the company, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Smart girl” he cooed, ruffling your hair softly. You laughed, and shoved his hand off playfully. 

It wasn’t so hard to assume after all. What else could rich siblings be fighting over, who gets to sit in the passenger seat? Who gets to have the last slice of pizza? That's so fucking humorous. He was fighting with his brother over millions and a couple more millions, and didn’t even realize how materialistic and stupid that sounded to someone like you. 

Heeseung pulled your body closer to his, feeling an otherworldly connection course through his veins as you gave away your warmth to him. And how much tighter did you need to be pressed against each other before he finally admitted that he wasn't doing this for warmth. 

How many times did his thumb have to press against the edge of your mouth for him to realize he's gone too far?

“Did you hear that Sunghoon broke up with Wonyoung?” he asked, his body melting into yours with every passing second. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, but on another note, you would be lying if you said you didn't expect it. And it most definitely didn't shock you that Sunghoon was the one to initiate it. 

“Why?” you asked, even though it wasn't a hard deduction to make yourself.

“I think me and you both know why” he huffed, a hint of humor lacing his tone “Honestly good for him, that girl is insufferable” 

“Oh I know” you agreed, and he smiled “Go easy on him, still” 

“I'll try my best” he rolled his eyes playfully “We should definitely throw him a celebration party” Heeseung inquired and you chuckled. 

“Is that really something he’s celebrating, or just us?” you asked and he smiled. 

Sunghoon was so incredibly hard to read, and knowing if the breakup is impacting him negatively or positively was something nobody would ever know. 

“It’ll still help him get back up on his feet, if he even needs to” he replied, and you nodded smiling. 

You had no idea about the status between you and Heeseung. Things happened, and things were most definitely still happening, you both knew it, but nothing changed within the label itself. But then again, you took Heeseung as the type that didn't like labeling things. 

Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted people to start knowing you by “Lee Heeseungs girlfriend”, not “Broke Transfer” or “Poor Scholar”. 

You relied heavily on Heeseung. He was like your life support in the walls of this school. He helped you make decisions and was there for you whenever you needed him. He felt just like flying too close to the sun, and it was addictive. You knew that very well. 

He truly was the only person you had. And well, you assumed that maybe calling Aeri isn't that good of an idea.

 Well, that’s what Heeseung agrees with anyway. 

__________ 

You were so out of it. 

You had told Eunseok that you’ll be staying the night at a new friend's house, but would he really care if he were to find out you’d actually be getting shit faced at a massive house party in a mansion you didn’t really know the owner of. 

Probably not. 

The music was so loud you could barely register the words Kim Sunoo spoke to you so enthusiastically. You had come here expecting to spend some time with Heeseung, but no matter how much you wanted to go look for him, the never ending white hallways that led to countless guest bedrooms frightened you. 

From your comfortable position on the couch, you could spot Sunghoon’s lonely figure at one of the tables. He was supposed to be the main attraction, the whole event centered around his new found freedom, but it seemed like everyone around him was having much more fun than him. 

You quickly waved off Sunoo, unsure of what he truly was going on about for the past 10 minutes, heading towards Sunghoon. 

“Are you okay?” You asked without having to shout in the boy's face, finding the corner he sat in much quieter. 

He looked startled, he didn't catch the moment where you came to him “I’m fine” Sunghoon replied swiftly, blinking a few times. 

You found it cute. 

“Why are you alone? Where is everyone” you asked him another question and for the first time you saw him smile so sweetly. 

He always had the same emotionless expression on his face, conversations with him felt like a punishment. Seeing him like this made your knees weak, a slight pain in your heart as you wondered what he was thinking about. 

“I hoped you’d tell me that” he said, his small smile never fading. 

You chuckled “I thought all this was supposed to be for you” 

He shook his head with a laugh “I never wanted any of this. They just used my situation as an excuse to get black out drunk, I guess” 

Even though it was sad, he never stopped smiling at you. His head rested on his knuckles, his eyes twinkling as his gaze was focused on you. 

“That’s rude” you inquired, and he laughed again, but this time it much more resembled a scoff. 

“Heeseung has done and is doing things much worse” he murmured, and even though the music was still very much blasting through the speakers, you heard him.  

You thought about it before questioning him again. Did you even want to know? Or are some things better left unspoken. 

“Like?” you finally said, and that’s when Sunghoon went quiet. 

With a thud he slammed his glass on the table, and stood up. He nodded his head towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway signaling for you to follow him. He extended one of his hands towards you, and with the smallest bit of hesitation you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the space. 

Park Sunghoon looked so beautiful that night. His ivory skin glowed under the bright, colorful lights, his gaze was so piercing, and his lips just begged to be kissed. The pair of glasses hanging off his nose complemented his white fitted dress shirt, and his black pants showed off his perfectly long legs. You saw a different side of him and didn’t exactly like the way it made you feel. 

He closed the door behind you after assuring that the two of you would be alone. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was betraying one of his closest friends. 

But he thought about it all the time. He couldn’t get peace of mind. He couldn’t let his heart hurt for you, watching you fall for a fraudulent man that didn’t deserve someone as loyal and caring as you. 

“What is going on Sunghoon?” you asked, standing above him, as he placed himself on the leather couch with a sigh. 

“I know you like him, I know you believe everything he says and I know you won’t like what I’m about to say” he started explaining, and the suspense was killing you “But he’s not the guy you think he is. You’re not the first one, Y/n” 

“What the fuck do you mean I’m not the first one Sunghoon. First, what?” 

He was trying to stay calm, but you were already getting annoyed and he hasn’t even dropped the real bomb on you. 

Sunghoon thought about it for a second. Was using Pham Hanni a good example or should he reach deeper inside his mind to find another person Heeseung has used to fulfill his own perverted and psychotic desires. 

“I mean you’re not the first girl he has used this way” he uttered without looking at you, too scared to see your expression. 

Were you scared? Or were you mad? Hurt or in disbelief? 

You didn’t respond, letting the silence devour the two of you for a moment. 

“Please say something, Y/n” he whispered, grabbing your hand. 

His hands were cold, his fingers long and ivory. His touch was so smooth, and welcoming. He managed to pull you down next to him, yet you still couldn’t slip a word out of your mouth. He wondered if you’d ever reply or if you would just sit there, forever, next to him in silence. 

He’d like that. He’d like that more than he should. He was already betraying his friend, but his heart still wanted more. He wanted you to be more. 

“Why are you telling me about this, Sunghoon?” you finally said, and he looked at you, his gaze softening. 

“Because I like you” he said, his gaze falling to your intertwined hands “And I can’t stand looking at you getting lied to like this” he added after a short moment. 

It didn’t hit you when he said it. It felt like a moment that passed by quickly, it felt like it wasn’t anything significant. But looking at him, feeling the coldness radiate off of him, and feeling his scent made you realize he actually said it. 

“Don’t say that, Hoon” when the usage of his nickname slipped off your tongue, and he knew you didn’t mean it. 

He knew you felt it too, you just couldn’t say it, right? There was this invisible string tying you tightly to Heeseung’s grip, holding you back from giving into him. You wanted to. You’ve always wanted to, and so did he. From the moment he saw you, standing there with Wonyoung on your first day. 

Neither of you moved, caught in each other's closeness, both aware of it, both unsure. 

Sunghoon’s slender fingers grazed your jaw, softly pulling you to face him. His lips were slightly parted, and you could feel his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes. His gaze was heavy on yours and you could feel your heart racing in your throat- but you couldn’t pull away. 

He traced the curve of your jaw, his hand slipping down to your throat. His grip was firm, his lips grazing over the edge of yours. 

‘Tell me to stop” he whispered, smiling when he only heard a faint breath slip from your mouth. “Tell me and I will” he smiled against your cheek. 

“I want you so bad” he murmured, his voice low “You don’t even know” His nose was pressing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel him all over you. 

All at once, the restraint you had, faded away. His back fell to the soft padding of the couch, your legs straddling his lap, keeping him still and open for you. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes dark and hooded. 

His hands slipped down to your lower back, pulling you in closer, skin to skin. You felt dizzy, his mouth eating at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He grabbed your waist tightly, moving you back and forth on his growing bulge. 

His hands moved up to your jaw as you rode his clothed crotch without his assistance. 

You felt shivers down your spine, an uncontrollable force pushing you for more. You wanted him whole, completely forgetting about the boy that was somewhere in this house, laughing with his friends. 

But you didn’t want him to stop, finally closing the last breath of distance between you and Sunghoon, pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was sloppy, he met you with even more eagerness, your hand moving down to his chest, feeling his carved muscles against your fingertips. His tongue pried your mouth for entrance, deeping the connection between you. He held you as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, holding your body firm against his own. 

You pulled away, your faces inches apart, your forehead resting against his. Your lips coated in his saliva, trying to catch your breath, he looked at you with so much passion and longing. 

The regret started to settle in, but you couldn’t move away, even when his fingers caressed your cheek, you leaned into it. 

“You should be with me,” he whispered, a hint of desperation coating his voice “We’d be so good together, I’d make you feel so good” he added, his hand slipping past the band of your small skirt. 

“Sunghoon” you breathed out, your face falling to the crook of his neck as he played with the material of your underwear. 

“You were made for me to love, let me please” he pleaded, his breath shaky. 

You could feel his soft touch caressing your skin, his erection firmly against your clothed heat, it all felt like a dream. If you looked at him, it would all become real again. 

“We shouldn't” you said, your words muffled by the silky material of his dress shirt. 

He heard you, he didn't want you to stop, he was so desperate to have you, he wanted to show you just how much better he was than Heeseung. 

“It’s not wrong when he doesn't know” he took your jaw into his fingers, forcing you to look at him. You looked so pretty and innocent, your lipstick slightly smeared around your lips. 

Sunghoon pressed his hungry lips against yours once again, and you complied with his movements. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and at that point, he lost any control that was left in his body. 

Dazed, he didn't even hear the door jerk open. Neither did you, focused on his lips that have moved down to your neck once again. 

“What the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted angrily, causing you to pull out of Sunghoon’s touch, scared to look at the man standing in the doorway. You knew it was him. 

“Heeseung” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes wide as the realization started to settle in. He stood up from the couch, walking towards the boy who looked like a ticking time bomb. 

You sighed, hands in your hair, no words left to be spoken. You felt nothing, Sunghoon’s touch still lingering on your skin, and Heeseung’s words in the air. 

“Calm down, Heeseung” Sunghoon said softly, still unsure of the situation that surrounded him. 

Instead of that, he got hit with a punch to his face, harshly stumbling backwards, his back pressing against the glass table. He touched his cheek, the sensation causing him to flinch. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth. 

“I’m sorry” he said, looking down, spitting into the glass cup that someone left on the table. 

Heeseung smiled seeing his friend's reddish saliva slide down the walls of the glass. 

You stayed quiet, hoping the same fate wasn't waiting for you. You wanted to disappear, already creating the monologue you’d spill out to Eunseok as soon as you came home. ‘Please, I need to go back to my old school’ you’d plead until he’d finally give in. 

“I’m sure you are, Hoonie” he chuckled, slapping his forearm, taking the cup from his hand “I’m sure you regret it, don’t you” he looked intently at his friend who was struggling to keep eye contact. 

Heeseung slammed the cup on the floor, the glass shattering across the wooden panels, causing both you and Sunghoon to flinch. 

Sunghoon nodded his head, trying to stand up straight, but failing miserably as Heeseung kicked his lower abdomen with his knee. 

“You think it’s okay to mess with your friends girl behind his back?” he asked, holding Sunghoon’s bleeding jaw in his fingers “Is it?” 

“No” Sunghoon spat out, looking at Heeseung with his watery eyes, the pain in his stomach unbearable. 

“Heeseung, please stop, just stop it” you pleaded, looking up at him from teary eyes, unable to watch anymore “I came onto him, it’s all my fault” you lied, trying to somehow fix what was already broken. 

“Is that true” his gaze shifted back and forth from you to Sunghoon, waiting for one of you to give him a straight answer. 

You nodded ferociously, while Sunghoon kept his gaze plastered on the floor. 

“Get out” he turned to his vunerable friend, his lips dripping in blood, his hand holding onto his stomach. 

The view didn't move him one bit. 

Sunghoon looked at him and then at you, stumbling on his way to the door, slamming it shut when he finally managed to exit. 

“You came onto him, yeah? Did you like it?” he chuckled, a devilish grin on his face as he looked at you, so fragile and afraid of him. 

“I’m sorry Hee, I wasn't thinking straight” you explained, mentally preparing for him to strike you at any given moment now. 

You should be the one asking for an apology, he should be the one saying sorry for using you. 

“Get up” he ordered, extending his hand to you. You looked at him sheepishly, his dark figure standing over you. 

You obeyed, taking his cold hand, frightened a little bit by his intimidating and unpredictable behavior. He led you to the bathroom that was placed just across from the couch you were making out with Sunghoon on, stopping in front of the sink. 

He looked at you through the mirror, his lips falling to your ear “Spit” 

“What?” you asked, your voice cracking. 

“You heard me the first time” he said sternly, his gaze never falling from your eyes. 

“W-why?” you mumbled, and his small smile dropped. 

His fingers squeezed your waist painfully, his other hand shoving your face down towards the sink “When I tell you to do something, you do it” he groaned, and with your eyes shut, you completed his order. 

“Wash your mouth” he ordered after a moment, his body pressing against your ass as he held your head in place “Wash all that’s left of him” 

You just listened to every word he said. He let go of your hair, letting you look at yourself again. Heeseung smiled, his hands wandering from your waist to the band of your skirt. 

“Did you like it when Sunghoon touched you here? Did you feel taken care of? Tell me, pretty girl” his hand slipped down lower, his fingers easily slipping past your panties, hovering over your core. 

“I asked you a question” he said more sternly, as you refused to reply to him, your brain fixated on the feeling of his fingers on you. 

“I liked it,” you replied truthfully, and he smiled. 

“You like when my friends take care of you, don’t you? You’d let Jay fuck you, you’d blow Jake if he asked, wouldn't you?” he asked, and you winced at his words, the sound mixing with the way his fingers played with you. 

“But you’d come back to me. You’d come back all swollen from their house to me. Cause you love me” he said, and you nodded, your hips riding his hand that was buried deep in your underwear. 

“Want me to fuck you now? Show you who you actually belong to?” he whispered in your ear sweetly, his fingers still teasing your entrance. 

“Yes” you managed to utter. Your heart was pounding so hard, a part of you craving Heeseung’s touch, while another one trembled with fear. 

He turned you around, you could finally face him. His eyes were dark, his anger mingling in the air. His lips were wet with desire. 

“Playing with my best friend, making me watch, you loved it, didn't you baby?” he laughed, his hand escaping your skirt, finding its way to your hips. He pressed himself against you, his hands wandering under your top. 

“You’ll get what you want, don’t worry” he smiled, his fingers caressing your lips “That pussy wouldn't give it to you anyway” he laughed, catching you in a sloppy kiss. 

“Get on your knees, baby” he said, his tone soft, a caring facade covering his internal rage. 

You nodded, softly, sliding down to your knees in front of him. The dimly lit space made him look so beautiful, his harsh words leaving with Sunghoon a while ago. 

“You can take it right?” he asked, unbuckling his belt, the material of his black dress pants brushing against your skin as he slid them down. 

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he teased you, palming himself through his boxers. You could see his pulsing erection, the way his face twisted as he continued stimulating himself. 

“You wanna see, huh? Dirty girl, you love every second of this” he laughed, his voice laced with innuendo. 

Finally, with one hand he slid down his underwear, freeing his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his sculpted torso, and he smiled seeing your face light up. 

“You like what you see, yeah? So fucking hard just for you” he asked with amusement, grabbing your jaw. 

You nodded, finally being able to see him whole, raw in front of you. 

He was now completely exposed before you, fully vulnerable and at your mercy.

“Good. Feel how hard I am for you. Touch me” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You reached out tentatively, unsure of your actions, your cold fingers wrapping around his rigid shaft, coating its surface with his arousal as you slowly stroked him. He was hot and pulsing with his heartbeat. 

He groaned “Yeah, like that” his eyes closed with pleasure instinctively “Now put it in your pretty mouth” he ordered after a moment. 

You leaned forward, as he pulled your hair aside, twirling it in his palm. Your breath tickled his tip, his teeth gritting as he watched you open your mouth for him, and wrap your sweet lips around the head of his cock. 

He groaned, your warm mouth hugging him reluctantly. You could taste his bittersweet pre-cum on your toungue, the sensation of his hardness making shivers go down your spine. Your head began to move deeper down his length, finding it difficult to fit all of him inside you. 

“Fuck, s’good, suck me nice and slow just like that” he moaned, slightly pushing your head down his cock. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, and it made him twitch in your mouth. 

You did as he instructed, taking your time with him, finding the spots that made him react the most, teasing his sensitive underside. Hollowing your cheeks, going faster, Heeseung’s grip on you only tightening with every movement. 

You looked so helpless and lost, your mouth full of him. He fought to keep quiet, his other hand gripping the counter, his chest heaving unevenly. Your head bobbed up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. 

“Fuck, keep going, I’m close” he whined, his lips parted as he guided you back and forth on his length. 

His cock twitched, your movements becoming sloppier as you awaited his climax. You could feel him deep down in your throat, the feeling accompanied by his intense breathing and hoarse moans. His hand gripped your hair tightly, he began to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.  

“I’m gonna cum, fuck” his voice was strained, his heart racing in his chest “Gonna cum in your mouth, take my load baby” 

He groaned, his warm, thick cum spilling all over your tongue, Heeseung’s body shuddering as he emptied his load down your throat.  

“Swallow it,” he said, his breath shaky as he rode out his high. 

He pulled out after a moment, his cock glistening with your saliva and his juices. 

“You’re so perfect” he breathed out, still trying to steady himself “Get up, sweet girl” he instructed, and with an ache to your knees you managed to get up. 

His lips hurried to connect with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your lips were so soft and wet, your eyes watery. He wiped a salty tear that slipped from your eye. The look on your face took him back to the day he first met you, so pretty and untouched. 

“Let me make you feel good now” he whispered, guiding you to the bed, his pants and boxers left abandoned in the bathroom, as he got rid of his shirt while locking the door. 

He remembers just how much he fantasized about fucking you behind an unlocked door, hoping one of his sickly perverted friends walked in. But he no longer wanted to share you. 

He yearned for you, needed you just like the flesh that wanted to knit itself back together after a fresh wound. His desire was so primal, so intuitive. He was peeling his skin back, the layers slowly unfolding before your eyes. 

“Undress for me” he waited, his eyes tracing your every move, his body shivering as he watched you. 

If you were ready, he wanted to make you shiver like that too. 

You pulled down your black skirt, squeezing your thighs together as you were left only in your underwear. He came towards you, helping with your top half. He puts your hands up, the material gliding against your shaky skin. The fabric falls to the floor with a small thud, leaving you bare for him to adore. 

He stood back, admiring the beauty of the girl in front of him. He regretted every spoken word at that moment, every curse, every joke and everything that led up to this moment. 

Those words stained his mouth like a pomegranate, the lingering sensation still on his tongue as he took you in. 

Heeseung’s lips crashed down on yours, his shivering hands roaming down to your enclosed thighs, spreading you open enough for his fingers to slide through. He explored you with rough urgency, his mind blank as he focused on you and only you. 

He moved you down to sit on his lap, his hard on pressing against your ass. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Desperation sat heavily on his tongue. 

“You’re so pretty, all mine, all this is for me” he mumbled into your skin, his fingers digging at your hips. Your teeth grit, hands pulling his dark hair. 

Heeseung was so hungry for you. Hungry for your lips, your flesh, your bones that he wanted to intertwine with his. He was so drunk on love. 

His hand slipped down your body, his thumb circling small circles on your clothed heat. He felt the wetness seep through. 

He lifted you up, lying you down on the mattress swiftly. He situated himself in between your legs, his eyes scanning your body. You were such a pretty girl, so obedient and welcoming to him. You didn't protest, just did what he asked you to.

“Heeseung, please..” you whispered, and he could feel his heartbeat speed up “I want you inside me” he was amused by your eagerness, the way you were so direct with your words. 

“Sweet girl” he murmured, his fingers hooking the band of your pretty pink underwear “So fucking ready for me” 

He looked at you one last time, his fingers pulling at your panties, and with a nod to your head, he rolled the fabric down your legs, throwing it next to his abandoned shirt. 

“Already this wet?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly “I barely even touched you” a smirk adorned his lips.

He could come just by looking at you, your greed only fueling his own desire to fuck the shit out of you. But he'd hurt you, wouldn't he? 

Heeseung’s heart was racing just from the sight of you, his body reacting instantly to the view in front of him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his pretty blue veins popping out from under his skin. 

He aligned himself with you, coating his length with your arousal. His throbbing cock glided in between your folds, your body trembling at the new feeling, as heavy breaths slipped from your mouth. His tip nudged against your entrance, your heart racing. You had never felt anyone this closely, and nothing made you more excited than it being Heeseung after all. 

“I won’t hurt you, yeah?” he laughed, his tone low “You think you can take it?” he teased, his tip slipping in and out, each time going just a little further. 

“Mhm” you nodded your head, looking at him with your mouth slightly parted. 

He leaned down to squeeze your cheeks “Yeah? And you won't cry?” you attempted to nod again, but his grip on you was firm. You just blinked eagerly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

His tone was inciting, it could almost seem as if he was making fun of you. Yet no other man had ever made you feel so wanted, so good. No man has ever touched you like Heeseung did. 

He pressed you down underneath him, holding onto your lower back, his lips wandering all over your damp skin, His touch was rushed, he wanted this just as much as you. 

“Ready?” he asked, stroking himself, his gaze glued to you. You breathed out a short conformation, grabbing into his arm that flexed under your touch. 

Heeseung nodded, his eyes dark with desire and need. His hands were shaking, his body trembling with the effort of restraint. 

He grabbed onto your leg, and with a slow movement, buried himself deep inside you. You gasped, pleading for your body to adjust to the sudden invasion. Heeseung’s cock filled you completely, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. He didn't move, waiting for the look of discomfort to wipe off your face. 

You had wanted this. You waited impatiently for Heeseung to take away the one sacred thing you owned- your virginity. You wanted him to be the man that gets to have you first, the love and thirst for him overpowering any rational thoughts. 

“Fucking tight” he breathed out, as his head fell back, a low, gutteral moan escaping his lips as he continued to move, his body conusmed by the sheer pleasure. 

It didn't take him a long time to bottom out, groans falling from his slightly parted lips. The pain of his thickness was almost exciting, your nails digging at his skin, eyelids becoming heavy. His cock buldged in your stomach, making him moan out loud with no sense of embarrassment. 

Your walls gripped onto his length “Feels s'good, shit” his thrusts were slow and delicate, not wanting to break your fragile frame “See this, so fucking deep inside you” he took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach so you could feel him. 

“Does it feel nice?” he kissed your neck, his face hugging the side of yours as he picked up his pace.

You turned to look at him “It d-does” you whispered. 

He rammed into you, his strokes becoming more frequent and sloppy. His face twisted with pleasure, a stream of euphonious sounds slipped from your lips, powering his own arousal. The music slightly entered the room through the shut door, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breaths overpowering it.

“That’s it, baby” his hands gripped your hips as you moved with him in sync, his body almost automatically responding to any of your movements. Your breathing became increasingly uneven and ragged “Just like that, just like that” 

“Fuck, Heeseung” you struggled for breath, his pace becoming infernal. 

His eyes ran down your body like never before, his face looking down at you intently, almost like a wolf looking down on its prey. His fingers continued to grab onto anything he managed, his mind going blank as the sound of your cries filled his ears. 

The sight and sensation drived you further into ecstasy, his warmth so strong on your skin. You couldn't help the pleasure, a small, salty tear escaping your glossy eyes. 

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a desperate, rough kiss, his body shaking with need. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His thumb wiped down the tear from your cheek, his eyes hooded as he stared down at you, analyzing the state he had put you in. 

“You’re so perfect, so perfect for me” he whispered, his body on fire, every fiber of his being consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside you, of feeling you beneath him. 

Your moans become guttural, body shuddering with overwhelming pleasure at his words, at the thought of having him like this all the time. 

“I’m so in love with you, fuck” he breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. 

He knew he was in too deep, knew that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, not when he felt like this, burried so fucking deep inside you. 

“I’m close” you managed to articulate, your voice strained. 

Heeseung nods, his body feeling like he’s on the edge, too. He speeds up his movements, his cock pounding into your tired core at an almost demonic pace. His own senses are overwhelmed by you, his mind and body consumed with desire and pleasure. 

He gasps, his mouth moving down to your chest “I’m close too. Just a little more, you can do it. Just a little more” his voice a low, raspy whisper. 

You grip his hand tightly, a low moan escaping your lips as Heeseung pushes himself closer to the edge. You were hanging on by a thread, desperate for release, desperate for him. 

“I can’t hold back” he groaned, his thighs shaking, control slipping him completely “I’m going to fill you up so deep with my cum, baby. Don’t move” 

Heeseung took your heart, his mouth stained red. He kisses you with that mouth, he’s all over you again. He can no longer control himself, each movement throwing him over the edge, his own bravery breaking as you look so much sweeter and smaller under him. 

With one last thrust, his body shuddered as he shot his load of cum inside your pulsating walls. His body collapsed on top of you, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. He continued to move inside you, his fingers holding onto your body, helping you chase your own high. 

You close your eyes, releasing your own arousal on his length. Your body shivers and arches beneath him. He groans against your neck, gripping your hip tighter, his own body trembling with pleasure and exertion. 

He buries his face into your neck, his breathing slowly starting to even out after a few moments. He can feel your breathing start to even out under him as you came down from your own climax. He held you close, letting the waves of otherworldly pleasure wash over the both of you.

“You were so good” he whispers, his voice still laced with a hint of breathlessness “I love you, so much. I love you so much it hurts” 

He couldn’t help it. Those three words have never fallen from his lips, and this time he couldn't blame it on the slip of his tongue. Every bone in his body, his flesh, his tissue, the sinews that bound him together, it flowed in his veins- the uncontrollable desire to love you. 

His words struck you to the core. It felt so real, Sunghoon’s confession long gone as you couldn't help but reciprocate his words. With the way he cared for you, it couldn't be true. Heeseung wouldn't use you, he loved you, and you loved him. 

 You look down at him, and this time he looks much less scary. His eyes aren't so dark and hooded, his hair is messy, and his lips are puffed out.

It’s been so long since you first saw him, your mind completely swapping the first impression he made on you, to something much sweeter and beautiful. You remembered him so well, he was your precious, doe-eyed baby deer. He was never wrong, he was never the bad guy. 

The world turned on him, he was innocent. He didn't have a drinking problem, he wasn't smoking too much, he just gave into his teenage curiosity. 

He continues to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around you, his face buried into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, savoring the feeling of you beneath him. 

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of shame and regret. “I’m so sorry” he repeats and you look at him, confused. 

“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, caressing his hair, twirling small pieces in your fingers “You're scaring me” 

He sighs, his heart breaking “Sunghoon was right. I told him to do it. I told him to tell you the truth” 

taglist: @deobitifull @yunhoswrldddd @parksunghoonsgf @itgirlalisaa @alienqbrain @cyjhhyj @missycheif1404

[vilsoo]

TAGS. nsfw, fem!reader, gym bf!toji, toji is just so horny, he rips your leggings, manhandling, dirty talk, unprotected sex

leg days with toji was his favorite. not because he gets to work on his quads, but because he gets to watch you work on your glutes and hammies. he knows exactly what you’re doing wearing those butt scrunch leggings, showing your ass in front of him as you do your romanian deadlifts, lying leg curls, and hypertensions. it was impossible for him to concentrate; he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you and your pump. but what also pisses him off is that he knows that you love being his little distraction. it’s gotten to the point that the both of you got carried away left the gym a little earlier than usual, forgetting one important thing you would do every leg day for muscle growth; your cardio.

luckily you didn’t have to worry about that at all with toji. cardio with a man like him who’s more than twice your size with large biceps and impressive upper body strength can suffice as the intense cardio you needed after a workout. but cardio at home can vary in many, many different ways…

“i’ve been wanting to do this the moment you walked out the house looking like this.” toji’s voice was so terse as if he’s been riled up way past his limit, pushing you over your couch’s armrest and ripping your leggings open that had you whining on the cushion. “oh shut up, i’ll buy you a new one.”

he gives a couple of harsh slaps on your ass before he burries his face into it, humming like a greedy, desperate man as he indulges in your juices that he wasn’t surprised you were so turned on by this. he just wanted to torture you, use you, manhandle you for working him up (un)intentionally at the gym— you were barely able to see him buried between your legs, holding your thighs apart in place as he flicks his tongue repeatedly in and out of your pussy, sloppy and messy for him.

“other guys get to check this ass out for free, but it’s too bad they can’t eat it out the way i do,” toji chuckled as he toyed with your clit with his fingers, easing in and out of the entrance of your pussy. “i pity them. they’re fuckin’ missing out on how good you taste… but you know i don’t like sharing.”

all you could do was reply with whimpers and pathetic muffled moans, with no sign of a coherent thought running through your head from the way he sucked on your clit while fingering you. but just as you were about to warn him of your orgasm nearing, he immediately stops, as if he can tell from the way your thighs began trembling and your muffled moans became more needier and louder.

“you’re gonna come in my mouth already? we haven’t even gotten to the cardio part yet, pretty girl,” he teases as he harshly slaps your ass again. “ride on my cock first until you come. you’ll also feel that burn in your thighs.”

that wide grin on your face was all he needed to see before he lays down on the couch with his cock already out and hard for you. you manage to stand up and position yourself in reverse cowgirl on your knees between his legs, showing your ass off for him to slap and grab again. you take his cock and rub it on the folds of your needy, aching pussy before sliding down on it with all your weight. immediately you can feel his dick twitch eagerly inside you, the living room filled with the lewd sounds of your ass slapping against his skin and your wet, soaking cunt enveloping his dick. you can feel the burn in your thighs with how fast you were thrusting your hips on him, sweat trickling down both of your skins. the pain and the pleasure ignited in your body like ecstasy, working yourself out but also fucking yourself so good on his cock. when you arch your back and kept gyrating and bouncing your hips on him, you can feel him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that it unleashed an orgasm in a white-hot sensation.

suddenly toji already grabs your waist out of impatience, sitting up on the couch and setting your body down on his lap. “you did so good for me, coming on my cock like that.�� he kisses your temples as he slid his hand down to rub your clit. “but for teasing me so bad today, i get to fuck you like a dumb whore on this couch. you’d like that, right? when i remind you of your place?”

again, you grinned like an eager little slut ready for him to use you. your back was pressed against his chest, him forcefully spreading your legs open and locking your legs high up in the air in full nelson. taking his cock that’s still hard, he roughly bucks his hips into you. his cock kept repeatedly ramming the sensitive spots in your cunt that tears starting to glisten on your face, your jaw slackened, and your eyes rolled back. toji’s stamina could never go out even right after you two had just left the gym. it was just a hot sight to see; a messy slut with her leggings ripped open, legs locked in the air and forced to watch yourself take his thick cock pounding deep in your pussy that your thighs couldn’t stop trembling. no glute exercise, no hamstring exercise, or not even cardio on the stairmaster could compare to the intensity and soreness you feel in your legs from toji fucking you like this.

[linddzz]

I am slamming that validation button like a rodent wanting more sugar water so here's more mostly rough draft Jayvik.

A continuation of the nicknames fic. More science dorks being dorks, this time greatly featuring some seriously questionable boundaries between totally normal lab colleagues, and much more briefly featuring Viktor being so horny it makes him stupid. Also appearing is Jayce Talis, ADHD King and allusions to Viktor's past slut era. Both fics are a sort of preview chapter in the bigger thing @amahhi and I are working on!

Thank you to @avelera for planting the idea of platonically dubious scritches in my head, and for being a constant sounding board!

Rating: PG

Pair: Jayvik pre-relationship

----

It continues to be surprising, how not surprising everything is when it comes to Jayce.

A week into the partnership, and that initial bright thrill of something new has not dulled in the slightest. Nor has the perfectly ordinary, easy comfort that he feels with Jayce. The un-remarkability of this calm is what makes it remarkable. With Jayce, there is none of the discomfort of dealing with another person. None of the abrasive tension that arises when Viktor must face other people as distinct personalities which he must contend with, instead of the larger concepts of People. People as an idea have problems that he can solve, whose suffering he can reduce without any needs for interaction causing issues.

But Jayce functions outside of these issues Viktor often finds himself in. Jayce slots into a space Viktor hardly knew existed, like there had always been this jagged edge to him that, to his great surprise, was actually part of a puzzle that Jayce had the other half to.

Past experience would have him expecting that, with time, the shine would wear off. The glow would dim. He would learn all the little faults and human contradictions of Jayce and would grow to feel that jagged tension return. Spending hours upon hours each and every day for a solid week with him have revealed Jayce’s little foibles, yet not one has grown into a frustration. In actuality, Viktor has had nothing but further data points to add weight to his newly forming thoughts of destiny and its relation to himself and Jayce. For each little fault and lacking Jayce has, Viktor can help. He can, perhaps, be the puzzle piece that returns the favor to fit neatly into Jayce's life.

For example, Jayce can grow blind to his surroundings, his mind too caught in their work. Viktor had assumed that the apartment was in the state he first found it in due to an explosive force of arcane power. He still thinks that, but he has learned that this great force was not the struck gem amplifying and reflecting the kinetic force aimed at it to exponential levels, but Jayce himself. He often forgets his keys, or his mugs, or his pencils behind an ear, his goggles on his head, his tools, everything but his journal really.

It was the third time that he left his keys in the lab (on top of twice that he came in groaning that he had locked himself out of his temporary housing), that Viktor realized what the pattern was, and that he could provide a solution.

Jayce had more important things to focus his mind on, so it was both useless and counterproductive to adjust Jayce’s behavior or habits so he could track the little necessities of life. Fortunately, Viktor is well practiced on keeping track of what he needs to. It’s a skill that was refined when he first used it to avoid detection in the Academy, and then even further developed as Professor Heimerdinger’s assistant. When Jayce left his keys behind again, the answer was simple and obvious. They were already missing from Jayce’s person, so Viktor simply took them to the sort of establishment in the lanes that would never ask any questions, but would always make a perfect copy of any keys brought to them.

Jayce’s keys were neatly returned to him, and Viktor took no small delight in waiting for the next time Jayce smacked his forehead as they left for the day, realizing that he had once again locked himself out of his rooms, to reveal his backups. There was a brief moment, where Jayce stared at the keys hanging from Viktor’s finger, when he worried in a flash that this was not something a friend or colleague should do, that he had overstepped in some way. Then Jayce snorted with his grin, called Viktor brilliant if a little terrifying, but mostly brilliant, and everything was perfect.

The key was only for Jayce’s temporary rooms in the Academy housing, but Viktor could make another set once the apartment repairs were complete, even if it seems wasteful to have Jayce eventually move out of the building that Viktor lives in.

Jayce is also wonderful at taking notes for his work, but less skilled at going back to reorganize or refine those notes. His notes are exemplary, even with the little flair of him signing every single page, but it leads to problems.

These problems are their current struggle in the cramped space of their semi-lab at some odd hour of the night. Viktor stands and contemplates the board crowded with copies of Jayce’s notes, additional observations both have about that first successful arcane spell, and Viktor’s little chalked notes next to clusters of paper denoting what sections of an article each goes to. Behind him, Jayce is not exactly pacing, which would require repeating of one path, but he is in a constant state of muttering movement with occasional bursts of frustration over paperwork.

Because they can make a fully stable arcane frame that affects the gravity within the dean’s office, but that means nothing to the academy if it is not properly written and submitted for review. They are on their fourth draft of the paper, and the initial excitement over being published has dwindled with every draft that has been returned with Heimerdinger’s cheerful blue ink slashed across the pages. One of Jayce’s faults, Viktor is finding, is that he does not take such things gracefully. It takes the second set of revisions for Viktor to realize that pride is not the primary hurt that Jayce feels, but the thread of anxiety Viktor had seen woven through Jayce’s journal. The need to prove himself, and the fear of impending failure at every turn.

“How else do they want me to explain it?” Jayce groans, and Viktor does not need to turn around to know that the perfectly clean cut hair is likely sticking out in every direction.

“I was hoping the Professor would not have edited “crank it” so quickly out of the methodology.” Viktor muses. That was his greatest disappointment. “I am deeply curious on how he expects us to find half of the citations he has requested for this entirely new scientific field.”

“And when the Academy insists there aren’t more tomes on mage lore!” Jayce snarls.

“We will have to expand outside of the Academy in the future.” Viktor agrees, turning a little to once again look over the taped up pages of their latest draft and what blue marks are where. “However, I think a more concrete description of the runic array you conducted into the stabilizer may be our ticket past many of the other issues he has found.”

Instead of grumblings or more huffed complaints, a heavy weight thumps onto Viktor’s shoulder. He pauses, realizing immediately that it is Jayce’s head that has slumped against him, and Jayce’s impressive body heat against his back indicating that there is, at most, a few inches of space between them.

“I don’t know how.” Jayce groans, but it’s less petulant and quieter, almost fearful. “I don’t know how to describe what I did.”

“Hm.” Is all Viktor can say in that exact moment. He is, briefly, distracted by Jayce’s hair brushing against his jaw with the strong scent of some sort of…of fancy wood. It is not an unpleasant scent.

“Sorry.” Jayce mutters. “Sorry, I know you’re not touchy I just- gimme a second I gotta think.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” Viktor assures him. It is alright. Jayce is correct that Viktor is not nearly as tactile as Jayce is, but he is at this point well acquainted with Jayce’s propensity towards touch. His own lack of aversion or any other strong reaction to it was one of the earliest surprises in their partnership. “Take your time gathering your thoughts. This is a far less dire circumstance than that first stabilization was.”

“You told me there was no pressure then.” Jayce mumbles, already sounding a little less miserable.

“That is because I was lying.” Viktor hums, delighted at the snort he gets, and the way he can feel Jayce’s movement from the small laugh.

“Seriously V, I just remembered that night, remembered what the mage looked like and what all the magic looked like and I…did the same thing. But it wasn’t the same thing, because no one got teleported. I don’t even know if what I did was a spell.” Viktor thinks he can feel the resonance of Jayce’s voice through his core, spreading in waves from the point where Jayce’s forehead presses down at the top edge of his shoulder.

The distraction is not a true distraction however, because Viktor catches something in what Jayce is muttering. “You can remember how he moved, what the runes he summoned looked like?”

“I remember everything about that night.”

“Yes but-” There is something here. He has already seen Jayce's remarkable skill at memorizing things that Jayce deems worth memorizing. If Jayce says he can remember it, Viktor does not doubt it. “The order of them, could you remember that?”

The head on Viktor’s shoulder shifts as Jayce rolls it slightly to one side, but he doesn’t move it in the other to shake his head. It’s a contemplative movement. “Maybe…I think so. Let me...ok this is going to sound so weird but can I just uh, hang out here for a second? It helps me think.”

“By all means.” There’s something particularly marvelous about becoming a stabilizing agent for Jayce’s mind, he would be a fool not to agree to the opportunity. As Jayce calibrates himself, Viktor once again considers their paper, the problems it has given them. Jayce had moved the dial of the stabilizing framework like a conductor, with precision. Heimerdinger wants written out theories and explanations and citations, but what if they could instead find a formula. What if the precision of Jayce’s input could be broken down into components and quantified…

His free hand moves with habitual lack of awareness to where it would usually begin fiddling with his own hair, and it takes a few moments for him to notice the slight change in both texture and location of the hair he is rolling between his fingertips. Even then, he only notices because Jayce’s head becomes an even heavier weight on his shoulder.

“Ah, apologies.” He says, stopping the movement, thinking this might be a thing to feel awkward about. “Force of habit, it helps me think.”

“No, s’fine.” Jayce says, voice thicker in a way that is dangerous for Viktor’s higher thought processes. “It’s nice, actually. I don’t mind.”

After a second, Viktor continues. This time he notes the finer texture of Jayce’s hair. It’s very soft, sleek almost, with traces of the gel he uses to style it making sections of stiffness that crunch away under Viktor’s fingers.

“You smell nice.” Jayce mumbles.

A response to that requires some consideration. Viktor…considers.

There was a time, not all that long ago, where he would have leapt on someone with Jayce’s build telling him he smelled good while standing a scant inch away from Viktor. He would have assumed that the intent was for him to leap. Viktor is more discriminating than he used to be about sexual escapades, mostly because he began finding the nights spent on dalliances not worth the distractions, but even he can admit that if Jayce had put a head on his shoulder and told him he smelled good a week ago, Viktor would know exactly how to respond. It would have involved leaning back against that broad heat, turning lightly twirling fingers into a fist in Jayce’s hair, then gleefully seeing where things went from that point.

But now…

Jayce fits in like a missing puzzle piece. Whatever Jayce is, it is not one of Viktor’s brief encounters. Viktor would want to tell Jayce he didn’t need to get his apartment repaired, when Viktor lives much closer to the lab and things would be much more efficient if they lived together. Viktor can be wildly in love with this man in every definition of love that exists, but romantic or sexual entanglements (and if there is one, Viktor very much wants the other as well) often end. In Viktor’s personal experience, they ended before morning, and that was only considering the sexual entanglement. Heightened intimacy was desperately tempting, but it risked a greater end to the entire partnership. Even if nothing ever started, a proposition alone could forever poison what there already is.

Jayce is tactile in a very casual way. He flirts with everything that smiles at him for more than three seconds, and there has been nowhere near enough data for Viktor to calculate the risk of losing that side of the puzzle, or how much of a reward he would gain from taking that risk.

“Thank you.” He says eventually, slow and still considering. Then, because that feels incomplete and awkward, he adds, “I use soap.

Jayce snorts again, the head on Viktor’s shoulder shaking as Jayce’s body shakes with quiet laughter. Viktor knows he is shaking with it, because every other hitch up of Jayce’s shoulders causes a tiny sway forward, which bumps Jayce’s chest against Viktor’s back. Each of these millisecond bits of contact makes Viktor once again run through the considerations of risk versus reward in relation to getting his hands on that chest. Under the shirt. He would need both hands. There is an awful lot of chest, after all. Maybe both hands and his mouth. Definitely all three. It really is so much chest.

He takes the fantastic effort to rein his mind away from Jayce’s prodigious chest, even more effort to pull it further from contemplating the amount of shoulder matching that chest and what the rest of the torso probably looks like. There should be a response in kind to Jayce’s. A friendly compliment to return a compliment.

“Your hair is very soft.” He decides, as that seems safe as well as relevant to Jayce's compliment. Jayce’s silent laughter turns into some small hitched sounds that near a squeak, which means that Viktor’s thoughts are successfully pulled away from the sexual distractions, but only into the romantic sort.

“Thank you.” Jayce says with a dreadful mimic of Viktor’s accent, which only strengthens Viktor’s resolve to not take any uninformed risks that could lead to him losing this, “I use a leave-in conditioner.”

Viktor’s hand drops from Jayce’s hair, and he turns his head as much as he can to shoot a baffled look at the top of Jayce’s head.

“Why the fuck would you leave in a hair conditioner?” He asks, affronted. “Conditioner already feels dreadful. It’s heavy and slimy, absolutely horrendous.”

Jayce shoots up (which is a shame) so that he can lean around and give Viktor a look of equal outrage. “What does- Viktor it’s a different thing from- do you not use conditioner!?”

“Of course not. It feels terrible, I already said that.” Jayce makes a pained sound, and Viktor waves him off. “Enough of that nonsense. It is a waste of time. I have an idea.”

Jayce moves up next to him, facing Viktor with an intent eagerness. “What is it?”

“You are going to describe to me exactly what you remember. Each rune, each movement, as much as you can.” Another thought occurs to him, and Viktor snatches his cane from where it’s leaning on the board so he can turn to the inert stabilizing frame sitting on a table. “And I want you to dial in the stabilizer as you did in Heimerdinge’s lab as you do so. I will record everything. I believe there may be something we can measure, some sort of constant in the timing and the runes used, a way to-”

“We can make it an equation.” Jayce interrupts, breathless and awed, knowing what Viktor is thinking without Viktor needing to explain any of it. He so deeply wishes Heimerdinger had let them keep “crank it” in the paper. “Something concrete.”

“Precisely. The runes are instructions, a code. Perhaps the clockwise and counter-clockwise cycles of them are additional instructions. We can use your stable field as a baseline to begin working on a formula.”

“We can give them a solid theorum.” Jayce is already rushing to the stabilizing frame, even recreating the hunched over pose he had that wondrous night. “Okay, tell me when you’re ready.”

Any thoughts on conditioner or smells are gone. In the future, it will be as common as breathing for them to be drawn together when they need help thinking. Jayce’s head will always find Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor will learn that playing with Jayce’s hair further settles his restless mind and channels his thoughts towards solutions. Whatever else there is, the most important goal to further all other goals of Viktor’s life is to keep the partnership. In the partnership there is the work, the thrill. The endless infinitesimal ways they fit together, two pieces destined to find the other. In the moment, Viktor takes up his notes and marvels again on the nature of fate, of probability, and of magic.

[omodance]

Why is un-potty training so hot to me??? Literally going out of your wait to train your body not to hold in your piss anymore, slowly having more and more accidents until you’re just constantly dribbling 🤤

I’m imagining a beginning bathroom routine starting out with 3 hours of rapid desperation directly after waking up in the morning, followed by a series of holds lasting the rest of the day. Of course one would also be required to drink a liter of water before going to bed.

It would get harder and harder to make it through the night without waking up due to pains in your bladder demanding attention as the continuous holds weaken your muscles.

Eventually, after you’ve woken them up in the middle of the night begging to pee one too many times, the bladder dom would deign that all these holds before bed have been putting too much of a strain on your bladder. Obviously the answer is to make sure your bladder is nice and empty before bed, right? 3 hours of rapid desperation before bed is added to your routines, in combination with your 3 hours upon waking.

This change is what causes you to wet the bed for the first time. You woke up to pangs in your bladder as usual, but this time something is different. A faint hissing between your legs and the warm, comforting sensation pooling under your bottom alert you to wake up your bladder dom to inform them of your accident.

They just smile understandingly and pull you into a big hug. “It’s alright love, really. I should have known that you just can’t make it through the night anymore.”

And suddenly, you’re allowed to go as much as you want! In fact, you’re required to pee at least once every hour (except for night time where you still do rapid desperation before bed) And your bed is fitted with thick plastic covers to prevent mess, and your dom happily cleans up your now daily bed puddles.

This part is a little more niche, but at this point in the process I would love if the dom in this fantasy began daily sounding sessions, right after waking up. Loosining and opening your urethra up every morning after having tried (and failed) to hold your bladder during the night. By now you’re wetting at least twice every night anyways, and you’re so used to staying hydrated that you usually drink at least two glasses of water by the time morning comes. Just enough to ensure there’s still a bit of piss begging to come out after more hours than usual of waiting for release.

So they’d open you right up, a heavy hand pressing on your bladder as they coax all the piss out through your practically useless and permanently relaxing peehole. Maybe they even sneaks some sort if numbing solution on the sound to ensure that those muscles are never strong enough to hold back your pee again

Its not long after this new addition to this routine that you stop being able to make it to the bathroom every hour. In fact, it feels like your underwear is almost always soaked with dribbling leaks while you wait for each hour to pass - not because you have to, you can pee as much as you want- but because the feeling of truly losing control is finally setting in. Having multiple accidents a night is one thing, but not even being able to make it an hour or even 30 minutes without leaking piss is embarrassing!!!

Your dom notices you as you start potty dancing between frequent bathroom breaks, tutting as the wet spot grows between your legs. They follow you into the bathroom one day and wordlessly pull out some pull-ups that you had no idea were even around and silently slips them on you as you pee.

It isn’t long before you lose the inhibitions that have been holding you back and give in the the convenience of being able to dribble pee as often as you want ❤️ your once daily sounding turns to two. As you begin just using your pull ups constantly instead of the toilet, they are eventually replaced by super absorbent diapers. You probably couldn’t even hold your pee if you tried

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS | PROLOGUE

benedict bridgerton x princess reader — slight anthony x reader. slight colin x reader.

series summary. the princess is in desperate need to sponsor a successful season in order for freedom to come her way. and benedict bridgerton would do anything to please her highness.

WC. 500+ | warnings. none.

A/N. so sorry for being so late :( uni is so so hectic. i’ll update every friday from now on it’s only fair!! if you have any thoughts, etc, i’d love to know! i do have some requests i’m writing rn, but i love seeing them either way. enjoy!! and remember english is my second language, please be easy with the critique 😞😞.

“It is beyond unfair how stuck in life I am despite all I own, mama.” The princess whined, her hands fiddling with the ruffle that lay beneath her waist on her dress, jaw clenched in disdain.

Queen Charlotte’s eyes rolled, a sense of annoyance creeping into her. “You do not speak to me as such, I am your Queen.”

“You are also my mother!”

Silence traced through the walls of the dining hall; Lady Danbury’s awkward coughing did nothing to lessen the tension floating between the pair. Y/N’s hands were balled into fists, and the corset entwined into her dress was suffocating her beyond means.

“All I ask for is a chance to prove myself mama,” her voice was shaky, and she was unsure if the softening of her mother’s eyes were a part of her wild imagination. “I am not glass, and if you give me a sense of freedom, I will show you so!”

It was a momentary silence that had her heartbeat escalating, the gulp emitting her throat embarrassingly loud.

“Well.” Y/N’s eyes widened, her mother’s voice stern, yet a gentle trace followed through. “You may do as you please, your nagging does no good for your voice, it is also quite infuriating.”

“Well?”

“Well, if you insist, I suppose a deal could be made.”

Lady Danbury’s brows raised, and Y/N stood up from her chair, chest heaving from her previous rant. “Which is?”

Her mother leaned back, blinking once, twice, before speaking gradually. “Sponsor the upcoming season. I need a diamond as the people expect, and a successful one at that. I cannot be deemed faulty.”

The princess shook her head in disbelief, pushing her chair back and walking closer to where her mother smugly sat. “That is, it? After years of begging, that is all I am required to do?”

“Yes,” The queen swatted her hands in the air, to where her daughter stood, “Do not make me change my mind.”

Y/N smiled, a large gleaming smile. She clapped her hands enthusiastically, a soft, un lady-like giggle escaping her in a moment of excitement. “You underestimate me, mama. You shall have a happily wed diamond by the end of the season- if not before.”

The hurried noise of her steps gradually fainted as Y/N ran out, parts of her dress bunched up between her fists. Her smile was blinding, biting her bottom lip so hard she was sure it was bruising. She could not wait to tell her maid, Lydia, of it all, completely ignoring the warning signs blaring through her head on how her mother’s acceptance has come with incredible ease. Unlike before.

Lady Danbury’s face contorted to one of confusion, staring at the queen with a hesitant expression. “Not to question your decisions, your majesty, but I cannot help but wonder why you have come to agree this time, in comparison to the others?”

Queen Charlotte’s smirk was very faintly, yet visible enough to raise concern, “Do you think of me a fool, Lady Danbury? You are to be following her every move in hopes that it does not go the way she anticipates. Her coming of age does not take away her title as my youngest child, she is far too immature to be put out there in a serious manner.”

“If my goal is to ensure that her part of the deal fails, then it is what I will do, your majesty.”

Truly, It was beyond tragic how quickly news spread, and it was only a moment of running peace before Benedict Bridgeton has come to know of the princess’ role in the upcoming season. No longer was he a man whose eyes rolled at the thought of marriage. But a man who spent his days with an erratic heart, and fantasises of her royal highness plaguing his train thoughts.

TAGLIST. @easybrainrot34 @jkshxua @pinkpantheris

[golden-cherry]

the way you like it - c. leclerc

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: winning twice does something to Charles - in a good way

warnings: basically porn without plot, smut, fingering, overstimulation, slight choking, mentions of creampie and somnophilia, unprotected sex, poorly translated french

word count: 550

a/n: hello friends. I haven't written in a long time and this just happened and I couldn't keep it to myself. enjoy!

"Si bon pour moi, mon amour", Charles groans into your ear, his hand on your stomach sliding down to your thighs and feeling how sticky they are, stained with both of your cum. "Regarde combine tu es venu pour moi." so good for me, my love. look at how much you came for me.

"Charles, please." Your voice is barely more than a whisper. With your eyes closed, you blindly try to reach for his hand, his skilled fingers slowly circling your swollen clit. "It's too much. I can't-"

Charles carefully pushes your hand away and you're too exhausted to do anything about it. "You can and you will." You feel his sweaty skin against your back as he drapes your leg over his hip, his front pressing against your back. "Je Saison sue tu en as encore un pour moi." I know you've got one more for me.

You couldn't have known that his second Grand Prix win in a row would not only increase his self-confidence, but his stamina by one hundred percent as well. Right after his victory celebration and all the formalities, Charles had dragged you into his hotel room and you hadn't left the bed since. That was several hours and several orgasms ago.

Your pussy is sore, your thighs ache and the thin skin on your neck is visibly red from his beard scratching over it. But Charles doesn't care. As his fingers gently circle your most sensitive spot, his other arm wraps around you and his hand gropes your tit. As he rolls your nipple between two fingers, you lean your head back against his shoulder, moaning.

"Charles, I-"

"What do you want, ma belle? Huh? Do you want my fingers?" The fingers that were just circling your clit glide lower and he gently slides two inside you. "Tu sens comme tu es mouillée?" do you feel how wet you are for me? He curls his fingers, touching that sweet spot inside you that makes you squirm and see stars. "Ou est-ce moi qui fuis de toi?" or is it me that's leaking out of you?

You can't talk, can't even think as he spreads soft kisses on your neck and slowly fucks his come back into you, his fingers bringing you once again to your climax. Completely overstimulated and close to the pain threshold, you grab his wrist to push him away, almost whining, and indeed he lets you.

Only to then press you even closer to his muscular body and slide his cock home for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Your eyes roll back, your breathing is ragged. "Dètends-toi, ma belle." just relax, pretty one. Charles' hand, which was on your tit a moment ago, gently rests against your throat. As you moan, he can feel the vibration and his cock twitches noticeably.

"I know you're fucked out and tired, but I'm not finished with you yet." He places his thumb on your jaw and tilts your head so he can take a look at your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips swollen and you're so exhausted that you can only breathe him in. He loves what he does to you.

"And I know that you don't mind me fucking you when you're asleep." His thrusts are slow, but hard. You feel him everywhere. "Go to sleep, mon amour. I'm right here." Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, before nuzzling his face back into your neck, his hips slowly rocking you to sleep. "And when you wake up, I'll still be inside you. Just comme tu lahmes." just the way you like it.

[gothcsz]

Mamita! Hojala que todo esta bien contigo! I have no idea if you’re taking mini requests pero I can’t stop thinking of Javier when I listen to Amarramé by Mon laferte 😭 Si no, esta bien I also wanted an excuse to talk you again! Con amor 😘

tags: f!reader, dirty talk (in english and spanish), no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), javi handcuffing you to your bed, hurt/no comfort kinda, fwb, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 1.3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: hola bebita hermosa, gracias por dejarme este prompt y canción tan 🥵 i listened to it and immediately it gave me friends with benefits!javi energy and reminded me of the fact that this cabron carries two sets of cuffs on him... y como dice la canción: tómame del pelo y repíteme mi nombre, y ámame, pero sin querer. i hope you like it 🖤 cuidate nena y cualquiera vez que quieras hablar conmigo, nadamas mandame un dm 💋

“Stop fuckin' running.”

He growls it low and rough against your skin, biting down on your shoulder just hard enough to make you gasp, that delicious blend of pain and pleasure shooting down your spine. He's buried so deep inside you that it feels like he's touching your fucking heart.

It’s hard not to flail around like a fish out of water when each thrust is relentless, wild, like he's out to stake his claim right then and there, leaving you breathless and desperately clinging to every sensation.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of hot, fast, dirty encounters in places you’d never imagine. The two of you never bother with beds, turning instead to dark corners, cramped car seats, the occasional bar restroom, even a closet at a friend’s house party—always fueled by a fierce need, never by softness.

But tonight is different. When he appeared on your doorstep, smelling of whiskey and impatience, you barely had time to catch your breath.

Sex with Javier was fucking amazing, the kind of chemistry that sticks in your bones.

He knew exactly what he was doing—a filthy mouth, hands that held you with just the right amount of force, and a delicious cock that hit every angle like it was his purpose. He went down on you because he loved it, his mouth a weapon of pure pleasure that left you wrecked.

He was dangerously close to perfect, if you could overlook the cocky attitude and that short fuse of his. Not that it mattered; you weren’t in this for a relationship. This was just pure, unapologetic indulgence, a mutual craving born out of that one forgettable party weeks ago that he’d somehow managed to make unforgettable.

You’re honestly not sure how the hell he managed to find out where you lived—but you barely had time to register his arrival before his lips were on yours, his hands already roaming, steering you backward until your shoulders hit the wall.

His mouth was urgent, trailing down your neck, hands lifting you as he sank to his knees with a look that dared you to stop him.

He lifted your thighs onto his broad shoulders, spreading you open, and didn’t waste a single second burying his face in your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch. He licked you slowly at first, savoring your taste, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking just hard enough to make you see stars, then lightly grazing his teeth against the swollen flesh, drawing gasps and cries from your throat.

He made you come like that not once but twice, each time rougher, more desperate, until you were clutching at his shoulders, hips rocking against his face. By the time he stood, cock hard enough to cut through those tight ass jeans of his, you were nothing but a willing mess, ready to take whatever he gave.

“Where’s your bed?”

Those were the first words he growled out since his hasty entrance, and you were so blissed out, half-dazed, that you nearly forgot where it was.

Barely catching your breath, you managed a breathy answer, and the way he moved—urgent, driven—had you wondering what set him off tonight. Before you could even form a coherent thought, he had your nightgown tugged off and tossed aside, his hands guiding you down onto the mattress with a roughness that left you trembling.

The sharp clink of his gun, badge, and cuffs hitting your nightstand sent a thrill through you. He undressed with a speed that made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to wait, and when he finally joined you on the bed, his weight and heat pressing against you made every nerve in your body hum with anticipation.

With no patience or gentleness he sheathed himself inside your cunt—just harsh intensity that made your mind go white-hot.

It was unlike any rhythm he’d set before, every thrust harder, deeper, driving into you with a force that bordered on desperate. Your eyes glazed over, tears blurring your vision as his grip on your hips tightened, leaving bruises you knew you’d feel tomorrow.

The sting from the hard spanks he’d landed on your ass burned deliciously, and every time his cock hit that unbearably sensitive spot inside you, you couldn't help but jerk forward, shattering his rhythm.

But the way he frustratingly growled your name each time you disrupted his pace only made it hotter.

After doing it too many times, Javier’s irritation finally spills over, and he pulls back abruptly, reaching for his set of cuffs. Your eyes go wide, and you try to push yourself up, words on the tip of your tongue to protest, but he moves too fast. In moments, the metal snaps around your wrist, then loops through one of the beams of your bed frame, before he clamps down your other wrist.

“Javier,” you manage, tugging at the cuffs, feeling the cold metal bite into your soft skin as you wince.

“¿Que?” He mocks, his tone drenched in condescension as he lets a smug pout play on his lips. “Want me to take 'em off? ¿Te duele?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, his hands finding your waist and yanking you back toward him, his cock sliding through your slick, swollen folds.

They do hurt, yeah, but you’re suddenly less angry and more turned on, trapped there, fully exposed and helpless in a way you hadn’t expected to like.

He doesn’t bother with gentleness, just sheaths himself back inside you, drawing a scream from your lips as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back, forcing your back into a deep, sinful arch. Tears prick at your eyes as he fills you again, every inch of him overwhelming.

“Te sientes tan rica,” he groans, his words a low growl in your ear as he folds over you, pressing every inch of himself into your senses. “Pussy is so goddamn tight and wet, fuck, baby.” He rambles on, his words coming in hot waves that only half register, your mind hazy as your own orgasm looms—and your wrists throb against the cuffs, a mix of pain and pleasure blurring the line between frustration and desire.

Without warning, his fingers slip down to circle your clit, drawing a desperate yelp from you. He smirks, slickening two fingers with your arousal before forcing them into your mouth, pressing down until you gag. The strangled sound you make only turns him on more, his cock twitching hard inside you as he groans. “C’mon, give it to me. Fuck, I can feel how tight your greedy cunt is gettin’. She wants to come, doesn’t she?”

You choke out a muffled “yes” around his fingers, your mouth wet with saliva that dribbles down your chin.

He drags his damp fingers back down, finding your nipple, twisting it just hard enough to tip you over the edge. 

Your climax crashes through you, pulsing around his cock, locking him in, and he grits his teeth, fighting to hold back as your creamy release coats him, your throat raw from screaming his name.

The cuffs cut harshly into your wrists, leaving red marks you know will sting later.

With a rough groan, he pulls out just in time, releasing hot and thick across your ass, fingers still pressing into your tit as he rides out his own pleasure.

"Get these things off me,” you spit as soon as reality snaps back at you, blinking rapidly, disoriented in the rush of your comedown. “What the hell is your problem?”

Silent, he reaches for the key, unlocking you with a practiced motion, releasing each wrist as you rub your raw skin, the marks a testament to his roughness.

“Sorry.” His voice is curt, no warmth behind his words, as he gathers his clothes, already tugging them back on.

And before his cum has even dried, he’s halfway out the door, leaving you breathless and tangled in the aftermath of that unapologetic, maddening exit.

[sansaorgana]

— BLESSED (II)

PART ONE || PART THREE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You find out your husband's true identity when Eregion is under attack. It is hard to tell which one is worse – the betrayal that you feel or witnessing how influenced by his evil your daughter already is.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I said there would be a second part, so here it is. But as usual, I could not stop writing and... there will be a third part, too! 🤣 Basically, in this part, Sauron is walking inside the rooms rapidly nearly all the time, which is something I realised later while re-reading the fic but I couldn't edit it since it made sense for the plot (and he was doing that a lot in canon, too).

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, lowkey toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Annatar Sauron, he gets angry at his daughter once or twice but he is not violent towards her (should not trigger anyone but I wanted to mention it just in case) + he is manipulating his daughter a lot, Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, Reader being put to sleep against her will, trigger warnings from S02E07 (Sauron murdering the guards etc.)

WORD COUNT — 5,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (II)

You were sitting inside your chambers in the evening all alone and embroidering for your daughter. Your only company was a slowly burning candle as you focused on the beautiful gemstones that were appearing thanks to your needle. Almárea had always been interested in the craft of smithery and it was no surprise. Her grandfather had been an excellent smith and so was her father. Uncle Celebrimbor perhaps was not related to her but she had been growing up around him. And, recently, her new favourite thing to do was to spend time with him in the forge, learning everything she could about the craft. She was there at the moment, too.

And where Annatar was, you had no idea. Most likely with them or helping to run the city. Ever since Celebrimbor’s health had been getting worse, your husband was helping you with the administration matters around Eregion, for which you were the most grateful. He did not wish you to overwork yourself.

You heard a booming sound from the distance, which startled you slightly. However, you gave it no second thought. But when the sound began to repeat itself, you stood up and approached the window worryingly. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the fire burning in the distance and you spotted a cannonball coming closer and closer to Eregion.

You could see it all in slow-motion how it hit one of the towers of your city. You let out a scream and covered your mouth with a trembling hand. The very foundations of the tower you were in shook and made you hurry for the doors, desperate to find the ones you loved the most.

But before you could reach them, they opened widely and Annatar stood in them. He was oddly calm but oh, of course he was – an emissary of The Valar would not be ever scared and his calmness would bring nothing but peace in the times of trouble.

“We are under attack,” he announced and you grabbed his sleeve to squeeze the fabric and pull on it, holding onto him like a child. “Stay here.”

“But… Almárea… She’s in the forge with Celebrimbor…” You sobbed and yelped at the sound of another cannonball hitting Eregion.

“Do not be afraid,” Annatar put his arm around you and walked you back to your chair where he was trying to sit you down but you refused.

“Almárea and uncle Celebrimbor… I must go for them…”

“I shall go,” Annatar assured you and finally managed to sit you down by the table. “My love, stay here.”

“Should we not evacuate?” You asked, looking up at him with glistening eyes. Whatever he would say, you would listen, do and follow. You trusted him with your whole life.

“When the right time comes. Until then, stay here, so I do not lose you in the crowd,” Annatar instructed and left your chambers.

You wiped your tears with a shaky hand and felt the ground under your feet shaking once more. A while after his departure, you realised that his request was deeply concerning. Staying inside this tower could mean death to you, after all. There was no guarantee that the next cannonball would not hit your tower.

You moved up once more and ran to the doors but they were locked, which made you furrow your brows. You kept pulling the handle but without any success. Even when you used all of your force, they did not move an inch.

The sounds of cannonballs and people screaming in terror were reaching your ears from afar as your anxiety grew. How could your husband ask you to stay inside in a moment like this – especially with your daughter being far away from you? Your heart could not rest until you were sure that Almárea was safe.

You hurried to the balcony and looked up at the tower next to yours. The fire inside the forge was still on, you noticed. But you kept waiting and waiting for your husband’s return and there was nobody coming.

You were circling around the room nervously, trying to think of a way out. Almárea was all you could think of – your sweet daughter, your purpose in life, your little blessing. You had to be with her, you had to protect her.

And as you nearly broke down in tears of helplessness, you felt another cannonball hitting nearby. The force of that hit was so strong that you fell over, feeling the floor underneath you tilting slightly. When you dared to open your eyes, fearing what you would witness, you realised that half of the tower you were locked inside was in ruins now. Including the wall in front of you, which allowed you to run out without using the locked doors.

You did not think of anything else, leaving all your properties behind as you gathered your skirts and managed to get to the corridor, coughing heavily from all the dust.

The staircase was wobbly and you knew each step could cause you to fall down but you were too determined to overthink that. Step by step, as fast as you could, you ran downstairs and hurried across the courtyard, bumping into other screaming and terrified people, until you reached the doors to Celebrimbor’s forge.

What you witnessed, shocked you dearly. Because despite the siege around you, you spotted your uncle and daughter working on some design cheerfully.

“Almárea!” You called out for her, making them both turn around with widened eyes. “Uncle! What are you doing?!” You hurried to their side and put your arms around your daughter protectively. “Can’t you see and hear what is happening outside?! We must leave, this very moment!”

“What are you talking about, child?” Celebrimbor chuckled at you as if you were the crazy one. His eyes were full of joy but you also spotted a haze in them, a deep fog as if he had lost his mind. Your heart ached for him because his state had been worsening for weeks now.

“Uncle… Please, we must go,” you reached out to hold his wrists but he winced and pushed you away.

“No! I must not stop my work. What are you talking about, (Y/N)? Look at the state of you, you look like a slattern,” he pointed out and his words hurt you deeply. Of course you looked like a slattern. There was a siege happening and you crawled yourself out of the tower’s ruins to get here. “Almárea, your mother must be feverish,” he addressed your daughter.

“Almárea, my darling, we have to go and we have to take uncle with us,” you tried to explain it to her in the simplest way but she took a step back from you as she shook her head and the bow in her head bounced slightly.

“No. Daddy asked me to stay here and watch over uncle Celebrimbor,” she explained.

“Almárea, that is very noble but we are under attack,” you were trying to remain calm despite the noises reaching your ears from the outside. You knew that you had no time to argue. “Whatever your daddy asked you to do, it has no significance now.”

“But he has been here only recently,” she answered and you opened your mouth slightly, surprised. “He told me to keep up my work,” she added, proudly. “Uncle, go back to your craft. Mummy is sick indeed,” she addressed Celebrimbor and he nodded at her before giving you a dirty look and going back to his designs of the Rings.

“Almárea, it is not safe, we must leave. What are you doing to him?” You asked her, unsurely. You were scared to hear the answer as you crouched down to be on her level.

Your sweet, little daughter. Your blessing. Why was there so much malice in her eyes now?

The doors of the forge opened rapidly and you stood up at the sight of Annatar rushing inside. At first, you did not recognise him because his kind and loving face was twisted in anger as his soft eyes reminded you of nothing but black, empty abysses.

“What are you doing here?!” He barked at you. “I saw the cannonball hitting our tower, I rushed there and it was empty. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” He raised his voice at you but you could not hear any concern in it – only fury.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and put your hands on Almárea’s shoulders.

“It is you who should explain yourself to me,” you tried to sound harshly but it was coming to you with great difficulty. After all, it was your husband, whom you loved and respected greatly. “Why is Almárea here and what is she doing to my uncle? You promised me you would come for them and we would evacuate together,” you pointed out.

“Not until the Rings are finished,” Annatar answered. “Almárea, are you keeping up the good work?” He addressed her softly.

“Yes, daddy,” she nodded her head with a grin and Annatar smiled before approaching Celebrimbor.

“How fares your progress?” He asked him.

“It would be better if your wife was not distracting me. She is feverish, you should take her back to your chambers and put her to bed. Call for a medic if you must,” Celebrimbor mumbled out.

“Is everyone going insane here?! We are under attack!” You exclaimed out of desperation.

“Almárea,” was all your husband said before she nodded and tilted her head

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. You let go of her arms and stumbled, grabbing the edge of Celebrimbor’s desk. You laid your free hand on your forehead and felt how hot the skin was.

“Oh, I… I… I do not feel well,” you whispered.

Annatar hurried to your side and slowly wrapped his arms around yours to help you move away.

“My gentle darling, you have a fever. You must have had a nightmare,” he told you sweetly. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“You… You did?” You asked but your mind was in a haze.

“Please, lay down,” Annatar helped you to get comfortable on a chaise longue in Celebrimbor’s study. He caressed your forehead and you could hear him walk away since your vision was too blurry to see anything. “Almárea, your mummy needs to rest,” you heard him whisper before your eyelids got too heavy to keep them open and you drifted off to the land of dreams.

You had no idea for how long you had been sleeping. Could be hours and could be days. When you opened your eyes again, you realised with terror that the forge was a mere shadow of its own glory. It was in ruins now and everything was dull, grey and full of dust. You stood up rapidly with your heart pounding inside your chest from the anxiety – Almárea and her safety were all you could think of.

And there she was, sitting boredly on top of Celebrimbor’s desk. They both had clothes and faces dirty from the ashes but he kept working cheerfully as your daughter was looking down at him and swinging her legs.

“Oh, mummy,” she smiled at the sight of you. “I am glad you woke up. I am so bored here and daddy keeps saying I must go on until uncle’s work is finished,” she sighed and jumped down onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing? What are you doing exactly?” You asked her, carefully. Your head was still heavy from the sleep induced upon you and your memories of what had happened were foggy.

“Daddy says uncle Celebrimbor must finish the Rings for men but he would be scared of what is going on outside, so while daddy helps to run Eregion, I am here, making sure uncle Celebrimbor has no idea about anything,” she revealed and you gasped.

At that moment, the doors opened and Annatar walked inside. His skin and robes were not dirty at all as if he was above the siege. For the first time in your life, you were scared at the sight of him as you swallowed thickly, so deeply confused.

“The Rings. Are they finished?” He asked and closed the doors behind him. Then, he spotted you being awake and turned around slowly with a puzzled expression. “Almárea, why is your mother awake?”

“I was bored, daddy,” Almárea whined and you watched Annatar’s face muscles twitching as he clenched his jaw and gave your daughter a look so scolding that she approached you to seek safety.

“She is only a child, what do you expect?” You asked him. “You have burdened her with a task that is too heavy for her. It would be too heavy for anyone. The measures you are taking to finish the creation are unholy,” you took a deep breath in and moved a little closer to your uncle with Almárea still clinging to you. You were trying to shield poor Celebrimbor from your husband. “Make it stop. Let us flee.”

Celebrimbor looked up at you, his eyes so full of fog and mist that it made you shed a tear of compassion as he smiled adoringly at you with nothing but pure joy. He had completely lost his mind now.

“No emissary of The Valar would do this,” you turned your face around to lay your eyes on your husband again as more tears streamed down your cheeks. He looked both – hurt to be accused and angry to be caught at the same time. The most confusing reaction you could expect. “My husband would not do this,” you added, nearly inaudibly.

At that, he snorted. And you only sobbed some more.

“Free my uncle’s mind, I beg of you,” you shook your head.

“He is not under my control,” Annatar smirked and looked down to meet your daughter’s gaze. He nodded and she squeezed her eyes tightly as she focused on something. When her eyes opened again, you looked back at your uncle but he remained working. “Her powers are too strong. He might be forever broken now,” Annatar pointed out with a glimpse of… pride. “Come to me, my child,” he opened his arms and Almárea tried to move but you tightened your grip around her.

“No. You will not go near that man ever again,” you said to her, harshly. Each word caused a pain, like a knife cutting your heart into pieces.

You loved Annatar but you had to protect your daughter from him because the man in front of you was… Was simply not the man you had married. Perhaps the burden of the Valar was too heavy for him. The task they had given to him had driven him and your uncle to madness.

Perhaps it was all your fault – by choosing to stay with you as your husband, he had to choose this form and stay in it, losing some of his godly powers. And his new flesh was simply too weak to handle all the power he had been blessed with by the gods.

His empty eyes glanced at you with so much hatred and fury that you felt smaller than a mouse at the moment.

“I am her father,” he reminded you, coldly. “Almárea, come here,” he ordered.

And you were simply too weak to fight it. Your limbs rebelled against your will as you felt your daughter leaving your grasp and running up to her father. You could only watch as your whole life was crumbling down just like Eregion around it.

“You are her father. But you are not my husband,” you said. “Who are you… truly?”

“I am the one keeping the storm at bay,” he answered, putting his hands on Almárea’s shoulders as she kept looking up at him with admiration. “Balancing the very sun above your head. All to heal Middle-earth and give your weak and pathetic uncle one chance to prove his worth. I want the Nine!” He yelled, making you flinch.

Celebrimbor did not, however. He only looked up at the mention of his name and smiled kindly at the monster you had to call your husband.

“I am working, my friend,” he assured him before going back to work.

You moved slightly to cover him from Annatar’s stare. But you were not sure if Annatar was truly his name.

To heal Middle-earth. You knew that story. You knew who had been the man with such a dream. Annatar had been mentioning it before but never in this way. But now it all made sense. It all made a terrible sense and you had been nothing but a blind fool. It should had alarmed you the very first time Annatar had used this phrase. But the tone of his voice had been sweet then; concerned. Now, he had revealed his true intentions.

“You are He,” you realised out loud with a trembling voice. In fact, your whole body was trembling. The waves of aftershocks coming over your body after finding out such a dreadful thing about the person with whom you had shared your chambers, your bed, your body, your heart and your soul… Your bloodline. “You are Sauron,” the name rolled off of your tongue like something filthy and dirty – the most disgusting. The Abhorred.

All those I love yous you had whispered to him, all those nights you had spent on whimpering his name lost in pleasure, all those breakfasts you had served him, all those hours spent on brushing his hair with your fingers and peppering his face with tiny kisses. All this time you had been doing nothing but pampering the monster. And all this time you had been living in an illusion – not much better than the one your uncle was living in at the moment.

“I have many names,” Annatar smirked at your question as if it was bringing him satisfaction that his silly and naive wife had finally realised the dreadful truth.

“But you are my daddy,” Almárea tugged on his robe, waiting for confirmation.

“For all eternity, my darling one,” he caressed her hair lovingly and an empty hole in your chest grew and grew as it began to sink into your heart.

You had married Annatar but you had a child with Sauron.

You were sitting on the floor, with your back pressed to the wall and your knees brought all the way up to be able to rest your head on them. You had no chains but you did not have to. Annatar – or rather Sauron – knew very well that you would not leave Celebrimbor’s forge as long as Almárea was inside.

So, you just kept sitting there and staring at her as she was standing above your uncle and watching carefully as he crafted the Rings. She was studying him and you smiled sadly at that because under different circumstances it would be lovely to watch her learning from Celebrimbor.

His mind was far too gone to know anything happening around him. The only thing he could focus on was forging the Rings as you kept overthinking your whole marriage.

All those little things you had been ignoring about Annatar until now – all those excuses you had been making up for him. Gods, you were such a fool. And you loved your daughter more than anything but you could not help a feeling that your womb had borne a seed of Middle-earth’s demise.

Why had Annatar chosen you? Now it all made sense – you were the most useful in his schemes. You were close to the man he had wanted wrapped around his finger. And you were half-human, which could push Celebrimbor into agreeing to craft such powerful items even for the kin considered to be weak and unworthy by many Elves.

You sobbed silently. Was it possible that this was the only kind of love you could ever count on? This twisted illusion, this mockery? You had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, giving him everything you had and more. And all you had ever wanted in return was to be loved back. To have a family.

“You are done now! Daddy will be so proud, uncle!” Almárea clapped her hands and it made you look up. She kissed Celebrimbor’s cheek and he smiled at her, watching her put the rings inside a pouch.

“Almárea,” you called out for her and she laid her eyes on you. “Give them to me,” you ordered.

“But daddy–” She started, unsurely.

“I just want to see,” you extended your hand and she walked up to you, hesitantly. She handed you the pouch and you grabbed it from her. “Mummy!” She whined.

“Undo what you have done to uncle Celebrimbor’s mind. Right now,” your voice was harsh but not too much because she was still your daughter and you could never hurt or abandon her even if the darkness was the path she would descend into.

She was still a child, though. And she was half you – there was the same amount of light inside of her as of darkness.

“I can only try,” Almárea told you and you nodded at her, encouragingly. 

You held her hands to help her and she squeezed them, closing her eyes and tilting her head as she furrowed her brows, causing a small wrinkle to appear on her smooth forehead.

When she was done, you knew that it had thankfully worked. Because Celebrimbor yelped out of fear as you kissed the top of your daughter’s head and ran up to him immediately.

“Uncle… Uncle, calm down, please, shh, you are alright now,” you put your hands on his arms and his scared eyes found yours with relief.

“Oh, my darling (Y/N), I have been in such a haze… He… He made me…” Celebrimbor tried to find the right words.

“I know, I am so sorry…” You whispered, your voice full of pain and regret.

“No. It is me who is sorry, my sweet child. I have given you to him so easily, so freely,” he caressed your face with his trembling hands.

“And I am glad that you did,” you sobbed and he furrowed his brows. “And I cannot ever say that I regret it for he has given me my daughter,” you confessed.

“He might never get The Nine,” Celebrimbor changed the subject and you nodded, agreeing with him as you sniffed your tears back. You handed him the pouch with the Rings and glanced upon the doors.

“Go,” you pressed your forehead to his. “Take them away from him,” you whispered. “As far away as you can. Quick, we do not have much time. Use the opportunity that he still thinks you are under Almárea’s control.”

Your uncle nodded at you sadly. He kissed your forehead and squeezed the pouch inside his hand before looking at your daughter with a sigh. There was no hatred in his eyes but a glimpse of sadness, disappointment and fear mixed altogether. 

You watched him leave and Almárea reached her hand out after him but you stopped her.

“Daddy will get angry,” she looked up at you, surprised to witness what you had just done.

“Believe me, it is for the better,” you told her and held her hand. “We must leave now, too.”

“No,” she stood still and shook her head. “Not without daddy.”

“Almárea, we must go. We must leave, far away from here. We must go to your grandmother in Mithlond,” you tried to lure her in by the mention of your mother.

But she had seen her once in her life and the meeting had been brief. They shared no bond, therefore Almárea was not easily convinced.

“Not without daddy,” she repeated.

“Almárea, I beg of you…” Your eyes filled with tears again. You knew Sauron would be back any moment to check on Celebrimbor’s progress and you did not want to be there when he would see that your uncle was gone with The Rings.

But what you did not want even more was to abandon your daughter.

So, you stayed with her and waited. You did not even know what you were waiting for – was it your death? Would he get rid of you now when you were not useful to him anymore and after you had betrayed him in such a way; convincing your daughter to release Celebrimbor from her control and letting him flee?

You would find out very soon because the doors of the forge opened and there he was, walking confidently inside with a smirk upon his face.

“Daddy, I am so sorry!” Almárea cried out immediately and ran up to him while you looked away, wincing from the ache you felt in your heart. Your eyes filled tears at her words. You only hoped he would not lash out at her. “I trusted mummy and she tricked me! She gave The Rings back to uncle Celebrimbor and let him go!” Almárea explained and cried.

Long silence occurred and even though you were not looking in their direction, you could feel the atmosphere changing in an instant. Thickening.

“Mummy is a twisted, treacherous little witch, so it seems,” Sauron drawled out and you turned your head around to lay your angry eyes upon him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“How dare you!” You snapped. Who was he to call you twisted or treacherous? “I swore no loyalty to you, shadow of Morgoth!”

“Yes, you have!” He yelled at you and Almárea flinched, taking a step back. He walked past her to approach you angrily but you could not move away because there was a wall behind you. “You bound yourself to me on the day of our wedding!” Sauron pushed you, causing your back to hit the wall. “Where is he?! Where are The Rings?!”

“Daddy, we do not know!” Almárea ran up to you two and tugged on his robe. You avoided her gaze because you did not want her to see the fear and pain in your eyes. It would only scare her more. “Daddy, it is not mummy’s fault that she is weak. You told me that yourself!”

Sauron’s face was so close to yours that your noses nearly brushed against each other. His breath was heavy and hot, full of anger. You remained cold and still with tears streaming down your cheeks. And even though you did not recognise your husband and his eyes were dark and empty now, you dared to reach out to his cheeks gently. You cupped his face delicately, which caused his brows to furrow and his eyes to widen slightly out of surprise.

“Annatar,” you whispered softly. “Annatar, my love, come back to me. You bound yourself to me, too, dark spirit. Obey me. Release me,” you pleaded, desperately, feeling as if you were losing your sanity.

There was pure confusion on Sauron’s face at that moment. He took a step back, away from you and away from your hands but as they were falling down, you tried to extend them further and reach him once more.

“You are pathetic,” he pointed out, coldly. “I shall find those Rings sooner or later. The only thing you did was to slow me down but you will never stop me.”

“Let it be then… Whatever I can do, I shall,” you whispered.

He opened his mouth to say something but you were interrupted by a group of people walking inside the forge. It was Celebrimbor with a few guards. For one, foolish moment, you sighed with relief, expecting rescue.

He nodded at you softly to let you know that The Rings were safe and far away from your husband. You reached your hands out to grab Almárea and pull her closer to you. She let you and wrapped her arms around you to comfort you after her father’s anger.

“Where are The Rings?!” Sauron abandoned your side to walk down the stairs from Celebrimbor’s study into the ruins of the forge.

“Far from your reach by now,” your uncle answered.

“Then you are going to bring them to me and place them in my hand,” Sauron said, trying to remain calm. 

“Your hand will never touch another Ring again,” Celebrimbor assured him.

You moved closer to the railing with Almárea still clinging to you, so you both could see better whatever was happening downstairs.

The Commander of the City Guard ordered the rest to arrest your husband. Almárea sobbed and hid her face in the fabric of your gown as you caressed her back, soothingly.

You watched the soldiers stand in a circle around Sauron and point their swords at him. You put your hand on the back of your daughter’s head, making sure to press her face a bit deeper into your gown to avoid her seeing any glimpse of the scene underneath you by accident.

“By order of the true Lord of Eregion, you, Sauron, are hereby–” the Commander began before freezing.

In fact, they all froze. They all froze and trembled, whimpering slightly because they had absolutely no idea what was happening to them.

“You think it was only you and your weak fosterling who put themselves in my power?” Sauron asked with contempt as he addressed your uncle.

He raised his hands slightly and all the soldiers surrounding him killed one another instead of him. You watched in terror as their blades cut through their bodies and then they fell down, lifeless, onto the ground.

Almárea sobbed and yelped, managing to get out of your grasp due to your moment of weakness.

“Daddy!” She cried out for him. She was scared that the sound she had heard was of their blades cutting through him.

But it was not. And you watched her run down the stairs and ignore the lifeless bodies, as if they meant nothing to her, only to cling to Sauron’s waist. He wrapped one of his hands around her to pull her closer as he raised an eyebrow at Celebrimbor in a challenging manner.

The Commander tried to approach your husband carefully, extending his sword.

“Do not hurt the child,” your uncle ordered but there was no need.

Sauron did what you had done a while earlier and pressed Almárea’s face deeper into his robe as she was clinging to him. And when there was a guarantee she could not see anything, he twisted the wrist of his free hand and the Commander froze before turning the blade around and killing himself with it.

Only when his body hit the floor, Sauron let go of your daughter and allowed her to move. She looked up at him as if she was waiting for an order or a task to be given.

“You shall take control over him again and tell me where The Nine are,” your husband said.

“Almárea, no!” You screamed from the top of the stairs. “Almárea, please!”

“Are you sleepy again, my love?” Sauron looked up to ask you with irony.

You chose to be silent. To be put to sleep for gods know how long, to lose control of your own body and to be unaware of your surroundings was not what you wanted to happen once again.

MASTERLIST

[babygirl-riley]

Hii could you do one with ghost seeing his newborn and he came with guest like John, price, gaz for tea and the reader heard her baby start to cry and she goes to breast feed her baby upstairs for privacy and downstairs they all tell ghost how far he’s come in life and how proud they are of him and like they got gifts for the baby. If that’s okay with you!

Tea Time

Ghost brings guests over to meet his newborn baby

A/N: Omg this really warms my heart they would be so happy for him. Especially Price! Like lord watching his masked son have a child of his own 😭 Also sorry about the late story post school has been beating my asssss

Warnings: fluff, talks about baby, pure happiness, husband!simon, dad!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

It was at first an awkward silence all four of them sitting in a living room. Simon decided to bring his military family over to meet his newborn. Simon wasn’t able to be there when you gave birth. Missed it by two months since the baby was born, due to a mission going sideways. When he called to inform you that he was coming home, you naturally were excited.

While Simon was packing up to get going, Price followed him out. “Once the both of you are settled love to meet the little bugga.”

Simon chuckled. “Of course Cap.”

Simon called you again, it only rung twice before you picked it up. “On your way?” Your voice sounded tired yet perked up at the end.

“Yes ma’am, j’st leavin’,” He paused before clearing his throat. “Price mentioned comin’ and meeting the baby.”

“Okay,” You said calming waiting to see if he would say anything else before softly chuckling. “They coming today?”

Simon tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Didn’ say yes to today, you wantin’ to?”

“I wouldn’t mind, haven’t had company over for a while. Unless you don’t want it?” You said, he could hear the smile in your voice. Both of you didn’t want anyone over at the end of your pregnancy worried about everything and then some. Didn’t want to get you sick in case of something would happen to the baby.

Simon went silent before nodding like you could see him. “I don’t mind.”

Before getting the call ahead for the boys to come, you have Simon time to hold his baby girl. At first he was hesitant looking at the small thing that bundled into the pink blanket. “She won’t break.” You smiled softly, holding a hand to his bicep.

“She is small.” He whispered watching her make faces as she slept.

You lifted your arm and started to guide his, forming his arms to be ready to hold her. You could see the small panic in his eyes as you started to place her. Guiding him how to hold her head. She moved basically looking like she was settling herself into his arms. He went stiff before looking at you as he smiled a bit. “She’s beautiful baby.”

“We did good baby.” You said getting on your tippy toes as he leaned down kissing each other’s lips.

It was a couple of hours before he called Price and the boys to come and meet mini Riley. Without hesitation they all said yes and barreled their way down to the Riley home.

Now here they are, sitting around the living room. Gaz looked around the room noting some pictures of you and him on the wall. Some with his mask some not. Soap tapped his boots on the floor and Price drank the tea you made. Simon waited near the stairs as you started down them. All of them perked up like puppies on a park.

You showed off the baby to the boys. They held her one by one, watching her move around and fall asleep to smiling in her sleep. Price chuckled as she gripped his finger and played with her hand. Gaz held her as everyone talked around about the baby and how many pounds she weighted. Then it was Soap.

“She is beautiful,” Soap said holding her softly, she was laying on his forearms as he held her head with his hands. Soap leaning on his legs as he stared down at her. “Bet she gets it from ya huh lass?”

You chuckled as Simon glared at Soap, you could tell underneath his mask that he was smirking. “Kind of glad she don’ have my nose.” Simon mumbled agreeing with him.

Soap chuckled as he looked back at the baby. That’s when she let out a fuss before she cried. At first Soap was shocked and looked at you and Simon. You looked over at the clock as Simon grabbed her. “Don’t worry Soap you probably just stink,” You joked walking to Simon as you reached for her. “No but I have to go feed her.”

Simon nodded as you turned around. “Want any help?”

“Oh no she has it all handled Si.” You said smirking before winking and left upstairs.

Simon stood there and watched, disappearing. “She is beautiful Simon.” Price said breaking the silence.

Simon shrugged and nodded. “Would never think ya have a family.” Soap said with a teasing tone.

Price glared at him before Gaz chuckled. “Honestly I thought the same.”

Simon looked at both of them. “I didn’t either.”

Price sighed and shook his head. “I knew,” everyone looked at him. “You might seem like a cold hearted lieutenant however you have a kind heart,” Silence roamed through the air, Simon did not expect him to say anything like that. “I’m proud of you son.”

Soap was wide eyed then looked at Simon. “Nah he is right, never seen you so…”

“Don’t push it.” Simon grumbled seeing that glint in his eyes.

Soap put his hands up before looking at him. “For real though sir, you have an amazing family here.”

Gaz shuffled before standing up. “If you need a babysitter pretty sure Lola would love to watch her.”

Simon chuckled before standing up with him. “Have to fight the missus first.”

Gaz chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You really look happy chap, just happy that you are able to find something and someone’s to come home to.”

Simon was shocked all around, he hasn’t heard any of these before from them. At least Soap and Gaz. Price every now and then. He felt proud yet it was odd to feel that way. “Thank you, all of ya.”

Price finished his tea as he stood up and walked to Simon. Gaz heading towards the door, giving a curt nod. Soap followed Gaz and gave a two finger salute. “See ya later sir.” Soap said was he opened the door. “Tell the lasses I said bye!” He hollered out.

“I’ll meet ya in the car yeah?” Price said to Gaz.

Gaz nodded and gave a wave to Simon. “Seriously proud of ya sir.”

Simon stood there for a moment before looking at Price. “You really have come a long way Simon. Ever since you met her it’s like you became lighter.”

Simon looked away towards the upstairs. “Like Gaz said John she is my home to come to.“

“I know she is, just proud of you for where ya at,” Price said as he sighed. “You were so lost Simon until you married her. She changed you for the better and you let yourself do that as well. I just wanted to tell you that I’m truly proud.”

Simon looked at Price and inhaled. “Thank you sir but I’m still terrified.”

Price chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Oh that won’t change, wait till she brings a boy home.”

Simon froze as Price walked towards the door. The poor bloke that would be coming home to Simon, she may never get a boyfriend until he dies. Yeah that would be the case.

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Based off of this post where we all collectively lost our minds. You guys gotta stop distracting me I'm trying to finish editing the Sicarius bully ch2 lol

Relationships: Issak (Night Lord OC)/Fem!Reader (only because the word she is used twice)

Warnings: Blood, Tattoos, Kind of slavery??, loss of bodily autonomy, Night Lords content

The tattoo no longer aches, thankfully.

When it had been done your shoulderblades ached down muscle deep, from your body tensing and the vibration of needle after needle after needle. But now the skin is entirely healed, and it can be touched without pain.

Isaak pushes the fabric covering your new tattoo away, revealing it to him. It also reveals a wealth of bruises, marring your shoulders and arms. You Wrap your arms around your chest, but he's too interested in your back to care about the fact that your robes have fallen to your waist.

"And who did all this?"

He says, referring to your wounds. You watch and feel his scarred, pale hands trail along your shoulderblades.

You had known something was wrong when the armouring room was cast in a veil of silence, and you'd looked around with wide eyes.

The sound of the door's lock had triggered a most primal sense of fight or flight the moment it went off, and your heart slammed against your chest like it was trying to free itself. But by the time you even managed to move your feet you saw that three Night Lords were already inside with you, prowling like beasts having just found new prey.

One came closer and grabbed you tight, your clothing sliding off your shoulder just enough to reveal the very top of the left wing of your tattoo. He yanked you closer, ignoring your yelp of pain as he threatened to dislocate your arm. The other two lingered, and had watched while letting the one grabbing you make the first move.

"What's this?"

He says, shortly before he ripped the fabric and revealed more of your tattoo. He leaned in closer, seeing the intricate wings spawning from a fanged skull. The other two Night Lords looked to the one grabbing you, as he lost his grin. He pushed you away, snarling and letting out a puff of air from his scarred lips.

"...Fuck, she's marked. And I know who she belongs to."

You could feel the pain of growing bruises on your skin, holding your arms close to your chest as you watched them.

The three of them could smell the Night Lord blood embedded, mixed in the ink of your tattoo, and decided the fight wasn't worth it. You watched the three of them wander off in search of another serf, unclaimed, and you hope for the sake of the others on board they come up empty. Though you doubted they would.

As despite the fear of attaching yourself to a Night Lord, as mercurial and twisted as they may be, it grants a safety aboard the ship that many are desperate for.

You had begged Issak for it, with tears in your eyes.

You have done work for him dutifully for months but you could only evade becoming victim to another Night Lord in search of a toy to play with for so long. To be marked and claimed would be the safest you could be aboard the ship.

"I know that I step out of line to beg an astartes, but I promise to do whatever you ask of me without fail. Just please, I beg you save me from them..."

Issak had no personal serfs, hence why you had thought it a fruitless effort to beg him to mix his blood with ink. But you could think of no others that you could ask, not ones that were as merciful as Issak has been to you.

But he did, and you thanked him profusely for the safety it gave you. He always gleamed whenever you said it.

"I don't know who they were," You said, replying to his question. "There were three, they cornered me in the armouring room. They were scared off when they saw the tattoo." He hums, feeling you shake under his grip.

"If I didn't have it, I... Thank you,"

You don't want to imagine what would've happened had the three of them saw you were an available, unowned serf. One that no one would know disappeared. Issak laughs at you, his chest rumbling against your shoulders.

"You're shaking like a little animal. You'll be fine; They know that if they take you, I'll rip them apart."

You nod, and nod again and again, silently reassuring yourself and thanking him. You've had so many close calls, but now you have a place to retreat.

But even if you have a rabbit hole to hide in, it came at a cost. His blood runs through the ink of your tattoo, and you'll never be rid of him. You are safer, but it came at the cost of your dignity and your freedom. What little you had. Whatever he asks of you is now your duty to give to him, no matter what. That was the cost of your tattoo.

Issak picks you up, roughly carrying you in his arms.

"If you tell me what they looked like, I can bring you a trophy. Would that make you quit the crying?"

You look at him in shock, rubbing your eyes; You know Night Lords will look for any excuse to start a fight, but his casual gusto to kill a fellow of his legion is surprising. He sighs.

"Fine. You baselines are always so difficult."

He throws you onto his cot, your robes halfway off your shoulders revealing your collarbone, and you watch the scarred visage of a Night Lord consume your entire vision.

[honesty-my-policy]

i'm so infuriated

I'm not Jewish and I'm so infuriated at the world.

I can't imagine how it must feel to be Jewish. Especially as this entire ordeal has made me dive more into educating myself about Jewish history and how the world truly has always blamed everything on the Jews.

How is everything their fault?

Even the crucifixion of Christ has been blamed on the Jews when it was a Roman tradition?

Martin Luther who is known as one of the original reformers in Christianity's history wrote a book called "On the Jews and Their Lies". In which he advocated for burning down synagogues, Jewish homes and if that didn't work, Jewish people!

Apparently, somehow, Jews caused the Black Death despite the fact that the most predominant modern theory is that due to climate change in Asia, rodents began to flee the dried out grasslands to more populated areas which ended up spreading the infected fleas they carried, thus spreading the disease. The fleas infected not just rats but ground rodents in general, so once the rats migrated the fleas could jump to any ground rodent and the infection spread.

Some of the craziest modern stuff though has come mostly from the Middle East (i wonder why)...

Apparently, Israel has remote control sharks that can attack Egyptian civilians and tourists, at least that's what a Governor of Egypt things. source

According to a fundamentalist group of Muslims called the Wahhabis, the Jews have a secret ally they've been conspiring with... the Gharqad tree. A tree, they call it the Jew tree. source Which is identified as either nitre bushes or Lycium which is part of the nightshade family, it's such a thing that the TREE WIKI PAGE TALKS MORE ABOUT THAT THAN THE TREE ITSELF source

Palestine once said that Israel was breeding super rats that could grow twice the size of a normal rat - just to chase Arabs out of Jerusalem, note this was in like 2008, where are these super rats NOW? source

The Nation of Islam (an organization) accused Jews of tricking people into thinking slavery exists??????? Sorry, "still" exists. This was originally in 1996, the gall this motherfucker had in 1996 to say "Where is the proof?" - oh, his name is Louis Farrakhan btw and there is an entire section dedicated to him on the anti-slavery website iabolish.org - his page

Also, Pokémon is a Zionist conspiracy plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein, at least, in 2001 that was what some Iraqi security personal reported. source

listen... I won't lie. I love a good conspiracy theory because to be honest, the amount I trust my government or anyone in authority is so small that just about anything could come out as true and I'd be so un-phased.

but blaming the Jews for everything when they make up an estimated 0.2% of the population versus say the 23% that is Muslim? Which there are approximately 50 Muslim-Majority countries in the world, though depending on sources the exact number differs.

If anything Christianity (32%) and the unaffiliated (16.3%) should be eyed at. Also, how come no one ever gives the folk religion people a hard time? Not that anyone deserves to be given a hard time as long as they aren't hurting anyone, it just boggles my mind to be honest.

sources for numbers cited came from this website: https://worldpopulationreview.com/

anyway, woke up this morning and just wanted to say this cause I'm mad and I want to show my support but also call out stupid people. I'm here to fight for Israel and the Jews, fuck off pro-palestine simps.

[avatar-anna]

The One About the Documentary

i watched part one of the yolanda and selena documentary so you don't have to...and it pissed me tf off. anyway enjoy!

Harry Styles x Latina! Reader Masterlist

When his girlfriend asked to watch the documentary, Harry said yes, but hesitantly.

In all honesty, Harry didn't think Y/n would have any desire to watch it, but at eight o'clock sharp, she was on the couch armed with a bowl of popcorn and two bottles of coke, one for him and one for her.

"Can I ask why we're—"

"Shh! It's starting."

Harry settled into the couch, his arm around his girlfriend, whose eyes were glued to the TV the second the documentary began.

*.*

"So Yolanda's the only one who knew about this alleged affair?" Y/n said to no one in particular. "Yeah fucking right. I hope Chris Perez never watches this."

Harry covered his hand with his mouth to hide his grin. His girlfriend had a knack for talking about people she didn't know as if they were good friends.

Taking a handful of popcorn out of the bowl, he kissed Y/n's cheek. "I don't imagine anyone close to Selena is watching this."

Huffing, Y/n slumped back against Harry's side, angrily chewing popcorn. "I hate her," she grumbled, and he knew she wasn't talking about Selena.

Playing with a strand of her hair, he turned his attention back to the TV. "I know."

*.*

"¿Un accidente? ¿Fue un accidente?" Y/n all but shouted at the screen. Her brows were narrowed in an adorable glare, nose slightly crinkled in anger. "Are you kidding me? You shot her! In the back! Twice!"

Harry debated whether to intervene or stay seated on the couch. His hand reached for the bowl of popcorn in the meantime, taking a handful as he watched his girlfriend shout at Yolanda Saldivar.

"Lovey, maybe we should turn it off," he ended up saying.

Her head whipped around, her glare landing on Harry, though he knew it wasn't aimed at him. "Why?"

Why? he thought. Because you hate Yolanda and I'm not sure my arm can take anymore angry punches.

"You seem a little...heated?"

Y/n's eyes blazed. "Of course I'm heated! This whole thing is bullshit!"

Harry knew his girlfriend was passionate, it was one of the things he loved about her. And one thing Y/n happened to be passionate about was Selena Quintanilla Perez.

"I know that, and you know that, so why are we watching this?"

Y/n had sent numerous messages about the documentary in question when word first got out that it would be released. Fiery texts about how ridiculous it was that someone so horrible was making a documentary after all these years, about how no one would ever be stupid enough to take Yolanda's side, and so on. Harry, of course, was inclined to agree, but he also thought Y/n was merely ranting about the trailer. He didn't think they'd be sitting down to watch it. Honestly, he thought his girlfriend wouldn't have given it the time of day.

"I—I don't know, but I can't just not finish it," Y/n said. "I'm watching in protest."

Swallowing a laugh, Harry pulled his girlfriend back onto the couch. "Okay, then, lovey. Then sit down and let's finish it."

*.*

"Oh come on, Yolanda," Harry groaned, his voice nearly reaching Y/n's frustrated levels. "If all this evidence has been sitting in some storage unit for all these years, why is it only coming out now?"

Y/n was practically bouncing in her seat on the couch as the woman in question spoke. She shook Harry's shoulder with her hands, but he was used to it by now. This was a normal occurrence for any movie night.

"That's my point!" Y/n said. "She's evil. She'll be hard pressed to find an unbiased jury when it's time for her parole."

"You think she'll really be let out on parole?"

Y/n shrugged, her eyes on the television. "She'd probably be safer in solitary."

"Y/n!"

"What? It's the truth!"

*.*

"¡Bruja! ¡Mentirosa! Who the fuck is buying this? You admitted! ¡Me cago en la reputísima madre que te parió la reconcha de tu—"

"Aaand that's where we'll stop," Harry said, turning the TV off with a definitive click of the remote.

"Wha—Why? It's almost done!"

Harry ignored Y/n's protests and took her into his arms, taking her away from the TV and the couch and the popcorn, which she'd begun to throw at the screen in outrage. As he took the stairs up to their room, Y/n turned to begging, promising she'd behave and stop throwing popcorn, but Harry was having none of it.

"This is for your own good, lovey," he said. "It's not healthy to be angry like that."

"Oh, so I'm being irrational?"

Harry merely rolled his eyes. "Now you know I didn't say that."

"Well...You're...Put me down! I need to finish!"

"Not tonight, lovey."

Harry set Y/n on the bed gently. She crossed her arms and glared at him, but it was half-assed, and not entirely directed at her and still at Public Enemy Number One.

She gave him the silent treatment as they got ready for bed, but Harry knew it wouldn't last. His girlfriend had a short fuse, but the emphasis was on short. Y/n didn't stay mad for very long, she never had as long as he knew her. Harry gave it until he got to the second chapter of his book and the silent treatment would come to an end.

It took the third, but Harry smiled a little as Y/n held hos cheek in her hand and kissed the other. "I'm not gonna apologize for being angry," she said.

"I wouldn't expect you to. I know how you feel about Yolanda Saldivar."

Y/n hummed. "But, I apologize for the popcorn. And the excessive profanity. And for bruising your shoulder."

Setting his book down, Harry looked at his girlfriend, nothing but affection—and perhaps mild amusement—in his gaze. "It's okay. I hardly felt a thing."

"Liar," Y/n giggled. "But thank you for putting up with...I don't know, me, I guess."

Harry took that as his opportunity to kiss her properly. Y/n squeaked in surprise, cradling his face gingerly as he slotted his lips over hers. Laying her down properly on the bed, he hovered over her, his hand running along her bare thigh and up past her night gown. Because Y/n was the kind of woman who wore little nightgowns before bed.

That was how Harry knew she wasn't totally mad at him. She wore one of her shorter, more revealing ones. She had a couple that went down to her calves that weren't expressly for when she was pissed at Harry, but he knew—though the joke was on her, he thought she looked just as sexy in those.

Y/n wrapped her legs around Harry's waist, her arms twining around his neck as he kissed the shell of her ear, the curve of her jaw. "It's not 'putting up with,' lovey," he murmured. "You should know that by now. If anyone puts up with anyone in this relationship it's you."

Leaning up on her elbows, Y/n made Harry look her in the eye. "So we're both a little crazy. That's nothing new."

Harry just grinned down at his girl, admiring the soft look in her eyes, the amused arch of her brow, her swollen lips, and chest that breathed heavily. Y/n might have had a short temper, she might throw popcorn at the TV when it made her mad, and she might curse and hit him when she felt particularly outraged, but she put up with all of his quirks with a smile too, loved him for every single one. Harry took up most of their shared closet space—which he had a weird thing about color coding—he had a tendency to talk in his sleep, he had to sit on the same side of the couch and made Y/n move if she was sitting on it (though now she knew better), he often scraped the bottom of the rice pot into the sink before Y/n could save her favorite crunchy parts which drove her nuts, and he had the unfortunate habit of leaving the cap off his toothpaste.

And there was the whole no-privacy thing because of his job, but that wasn't much of a quirk.

"I'm cool with it if you are."

Y/n smiled. "So you'll watch part two with me?"

"Hell no. But I will support you if you decide to scream at Yolanda and her fucked up family through the TV a second time."

"You're gonna regret that," Y/n said as she began to run her hands down Harry's broad shoulders. "Selena. Morning and night. Every minute of every day."

"That's...not a threat, lovey."

Y/n pouted. "Shit, you're right. I'll...only speak Spanish around you so you never know what I'm saying."

Harry's grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her collarbone. "I don't think you realize how sexy you sound, even when you're cross with me. Or your arch nemesis, for that matter."

"Well then I'll—"

"Face it, lovey. There's very little you could use to threaten me," he said, dragging the words over her neck. "Now let me love on you a bit before bed."

"What if I said no?" she asked, even though they both knew she wouldn't. Y/n just liked to be contrary for the sake of it.

"Well that would just be cruel to the both of us, wouldn't it?"

Finally relenting, Y/n slumped back against the bed, bringing Harry with her. She held the back of his head, her grip firm as she brought his lips to hers once more. Harry hummed triumphantly against her mouth, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. They eventually found themselves tangled together, Harry on his back while he hugged Y/n close to his chest. One hand was buried deep in her hair while the other kept a steady grip on her waist. He already knew each little sound she made, each reaction burned time and time again into his mind. But he collected each sigh, each graze of teeth like it was the first time, savoring it like this would be his only opportunity to ever kiss her.

Infatuated. He was infatuated with her. He loved when Y/n was loud and bright and opinionated, and he loved when she was shy and demure and unsure of herself. He loved the way she said his name when she was exasperated by something he did, and he was obsessed with the way she sometimes started speaking in another language without realizing it. He loved the way she loved him, so confidently, so tenderly—he loved that each devouring kiss seemed to say that she was just as infatuated as he was, that he wasn't alone in these intense feelings.

"Love you, bubba," Y/n murmured, the words getting tangled in their kiss.

"Love you," he replied.

It was all there really was to say.

[emjayewrites]

The Year I Turned 25 • JK + AT (2/10)

SYNOPSIS: Grammy-winning R&B artist Y/N Y/LN, 25, is closing out the North American leg of her tour, riding high on the success of her sophomore album "The Year I Turned 24" - a raw, emotional project born from her public breakup with an NFL player. As she prepares for six weeks in Europe before the international leg of her tour, she's determined to have her own "hot girl summer," yet she’s unaware that she's about to get entangled with not one but two professional footballers - Jules Koundé and Aurélien Tchouaméni - sparking new public interest in her love life and forcing her to confront her fears about dating athletes again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Y/N Y/LN (fc: Ayra Starr) x Aurélien Tchouaméni

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., not so glamorous life of a celebrity, mentions of mental illness/misogyny/slut shaming/cheating, drug use (marijuana), drinking, rotational dating, eventual smut, paragon partners/polyamory — 18+ only

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @whoevenisthiz, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @elyseesarchive, @enretrogue, @2serenity0, @yeea-nah, @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @greyishbach @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce @sailurmewn

A/N: I know that I said that I am no longer writing but I promised a mutual that this would happen. There’s changed to actual events in order for this timeline to work (i.e. Spanish Grand Prix happening on June 21st). Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

CHAPTER 2: Le Français

"Je suis une femme," YN repeated after her Duolingo owl, spooning mushy oatmeal into her mouth. After that kiss last night, learning French seemed like the logical next step.

The fluffy hotel robe did little to cool down her overheated skin, even after a shower so cold it could rival an Arctic expedition. She was down astronomically bad, and it was all because of Jules Koundé.

"Jules. Koundé." She tested the name on her tongue. Jhool Koon-day. Even his name was sexy, all masculine energy and French sophistication.

They always said French men were the best lovers. Though Enzo had definitely set a high bar for the Italians - especially that night with Carina. YN had gotten more action in the past week than in her entire relationship with Damari.

Don't think about Damari and his boring, porn-educated ass, both her rational and intrusive thoughts agreed. She had to come to a whole different continent to get properly dicked-down without using her beloved Rose.

"Well, RIP Rose," she saluted her trusty vibrator back home. "You served me well, but after this summer? Retirement."

Her phone buzzed twice:

Jules 🇫🇷: 30 minutes. Can't wait to see you 😚

LewLew Bean: How's Germany treating you? 👀 Also - you free July 7th? Silverstone race. We need to catch up

She checked her calendar quickly - no conflict with Jules' matches.

YN to LewLew Bean: Germany is… interesting 😏 And yes! Count me in for Silverstone!

LewLew Bean: "Interesting" = You're already causing trouble aren't you? Good. That's what I taught you 😌

YN to Jules 🇫🇷: Can't wait! See you soon 😘

Sliding off the bed, she rifled through her closet before pulling out a white halter-neck tennis dress. She paired it with Adidas Court Bolds and the "FRANCE" cap she'd bought last night during her post-kiss vape-and-pace session at the corner store (the horniness had been THAT real).

A knock at her door sent her heart racing. One last finger-comb through her hair, another swipe of lipgloss, grab the Constance, make sure she has her phone and hotel key card—

Jules stood there in his national team tracksuit, dreads pulled back in pigtails, looking unfairly cute and sexy at the same time. His eyes did a slow scan from her feet up, lingering on her lips.

"Morning."

"Morn–" was all she managed before his lips claimed hers, drawing a soft hum from her throat. When he pulled back, he nipped her bottom lip, making her gasp.

"You're such a nasty freak," she said in wonderment.

Jules just chuckled. "Let's go, ma belle."

YN let him guide her to the elevator, very aware of his hand at the base of her spine, hovering dangerously close to her ass.

In the lobby, Jules kept one hand on her lower back as they chatted about breakfast ("Mushy oatmeal? I'll take you somewhere proper tomorrow"). Before sliding into the waiting SUV, he opened her door - ever the gentleman - then delivered a firm pat to her ass that was anything but gentlemanly.

Did this man just… That wasn't just a pat, that was a whole statement of intent.

The drive to the stadium was a blur of Jules explaining the tournament structure while YN tried not to fixate on how that simple touch had reignited every nerve ending in her body.

"So quarter-finals next week, then semis next if you win?" She tried to focus on the actual conversation.

"Oui. Then hopefully the final in Berlin." His confidence was infectious.

The Merkur Spiel-Arena rose before them, all modern architecture and gleaming glass. Jules led her through the VIP entrance, up several elevators, until they reached the highest level of the stadium.

"This is my favorite spot," he said, leading her to the edge. The morning sun cast long shadows across the pristine pitch below. "You can see everything from up here."

"It's really nice."

"Your cap is cute," he nodded at her tourist shop purchase. "But we need to get you proper Les Bleus gear. Jersey maybe?"

From their perch, Jules spotted movement below in the corner of his eye. He yelled out something in French that had YN weak in the knees, even if she had no idea what it meant, and the people yelled something back.

"Who's that?" YN squinted at the tiny figures running drills below. "They look like very athletic brown blobs to me. My eyesight is garbage. I'm basically blind past ten feet."

"My teammates," Jules explained, turning back towards her. "Want to meet them?"

Oh wow… now we're being introduced to his teammates? Personal much? her rational thoughts chimed in.

This is solid, meaning he wants to fuck you. For real! Get 'em girl! her intrusive thoughts countered.

After using the elevator to head down, they walked through the tunnel onto the pitch, and the first player to bound over was pure sunshine energy. His micro dreads bounced as he jogged up, grinning like an excited puppy.

"Cama!" Jules dapped him up. "This is YN."

Camavinga was cute - all bright eyes and boyish charm. But her horn-o-meter barely registered a 3. Sweet, but not the kind to make her pussy throb.

And then he approached.

Where Jules gave off "runway model who'll make love to you by the fireplace with a few kinks up his sleeve" energy, this man emanated pure male BDE - the type to choke you out while calling you a worthless little slut and spit in your mouth.

Tall, dark-skin, lean but muscled, shirtless (Lord help her), with hair styled in a high-taper fade and features that belonged in a high fashion campaign. His walk was pure predator, all confident swagger.

Jules dapped him up as well. "YN, this is Aurélien."

Aw-ree-lee-an.

The way Jules said his name, all French pronunciation, had her hot and bothered before Aurélien even opened his mouth. His name matched him perfectly - regal but with an edge, like expensive dark chocolate with a little spicy kick.

Aurélien's gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her mouth go dry. "What's up?"

YN's brain froze. Actual words failed to form. "I-I…"

Jules giggled (literally!) at her obvious short-circuit while Aurélien's mouth quirked into a knowing smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew he had her hook, line, and sinker.

Well fuck, her intrusive thoughts swooned. Looks like the roster just got another spot.

"So you're the singer Jules won't shut up about," Aurélien's voice was impossibly deep, his French accent richer and darker than Jules'. Every word felt like honey dripping down YN's spine.

"That's me," she managed, proud her voice didn't crack.

Cama launched into rapid-fire questions about her music, while Jules kept his hand protectively at her waist. But Aurélien… Aurélien just watched.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, teeth worrying it as his eyes tracked her every movement. Even when she was focused on answering Cama's enthusiastic questions about her tour, she could feel that intense gaze.

"Your song about identity struggles," he suddenly cut in, his deep voice making everyone else pause. "It's really dope."

Lord, even when he's being vulnerable he sounds like he wants to rail you against a wall, her intrusive thoughts screamed.

"The bridge of that song," his tongue made another appearance, "it's tough."

"I-" YN started, but her brain was barely working as he finally broke into a full smile.

Roster status: CONFIRMED, her intrusive thoughts declared. Hot Girl Summer just leveled up.

"We should let you guys get back to practice," Jules said, a note in his voice that YN couldn't quite read. "I'll see you both at dinner?"

DINNER? With both of them?

Aurélien's smirk returned. "Wouldn't miss it."

As Jules led her away, she could still feel those eyes following her. YN's thoughts were still racing about Aurélien - that intense gaze, the way his tongue worried at his bottom lip, how his voice seemed to vibrate through her entire body. The man was dangerous in the best possible way. Maybe she could–

Her internal monologue cut short as Jules suddenly backed her against the tunnel wall, caging her in. His expression was unreadable — a mix of amusement, intensity, and something darker that made her pulse quicken.

"Jules?" she wondered with wide eyes.

"I knew it would happen." He shook his head, letting out an almost skeptical chuckle.

"What are you—"

"You feeling Auré?" YN's lips pursed together. "It's okay if you are, I'm not mad."

"But you're pinning me to a wall says otherwise..."

He removed his hands from either side of her face and moved back. "Désolé."

"'S'fine."

Jules cleared his throat. "Auré and I go way back - we knew each other since teenagers playing for Girondins in Bordeaux. Him and I...it always happens." Another laugh, then his eyes hardened with intensity. "We tend to like the same girl....a lot."

"Oh?" YN said, eyebrows furrowing, encouraging him to continue.

"Our type is the exact same so what can you expect? I just never...well actually no, this makes sense."

"Wait, how did you know that he likes me?"

Jules just gave her a look that screamed Woman, are you fucking blind?

"You're grown, so I won't go off and say it's me or him, that's pathetic as fuck. I just want honesty, however."

"On?" YN asked, sass creeping into her voice.

"If you fuck him or not."

"Why does that even matter?"

Jules moved close again, his brown eyes never leaving hers, except for a brief glance at her lips. "Because I want to fuck you too."

I TOLD YOU, GIRL!!! her intrusive thoughts screamed in victory.

Fuck... her rational thoughts whispered.

YN stood there, thoroughly shook. Summer of YN had just taken an unexpected turn.

_______________________________________________

YN paced her hotel balcony, taking desperate pulls from her CBD vape like it was a lifeline. Her hands were shaking slightly as she pulled up Lewis' contact.

He answered on the second ring. "I know that tone. You got tea." Always the gossiper.

"I'm having a crisis."

"Miles and Roscoe are with me – want me to call back?"

"No, put me on speaker. I need all the guy perspective I can get."

"Huge fan, by the way," Miles' British accent chimed in.

Any other day, two British accents would have her swooning. Today? She was too stressed to even notice.

"Go 'head," Lewis encouraged.

She spilled everything — the kiss with Jules, meeting Aurélien, the tunnel confrontation, her and Jules' heated makeout session before he left for practice. "I should be getting ready for the match but instead I'm out here having an anxiety attack!"

Lewis was quiet for a moment. "Shit. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"Don't mock me!"

"I'm deadass."

"You not gonna fuck 'em both, are you?" Miles asked. "They're best friends."

She heard Lewis murmur something about "like how we shared Corinne…"

"Oh that was fun," Miles reminisced, "but I don't think this is the same, bruv."

"Hello? What about ME?!" YN screeched.

"Fuck them both," Lewis said simply.

YN's eyes bugged out cartoon-style. "Lewis!! Did you not just hear what I said–"

"It's your Hot Girl Summer, right? You're getting your lick back and exploring all the things you weren't given by that limp-dicked motherfucker. Fuck. Them. Both. But use protection."

"Oh fuck, bruv," Miles laughed. "YN, maybe they want you to do that? Usually code for wanting a threesome. You don't have to if you're uncomfortable. Most guys–"

"I already did that, Miles." Another deep inhale of CBD.

"Holy fuck, when?" Lewis demanded.

"In Florence… 'member Enzo? I… uh… kinda slept with him and his friend, Carina…"

"Oh wow, a girl? So 'What They Don't Know' is really true?" Miles asked.

"Well, more bi-curious but Carina's tits were insane and she could even — you know what, let's not get distracted. Yes, I did it before. Now, do I want to do it again? Maybe. Depends how it comes about but I don't want to ruin their friendship."

"If they have the same type, I'm certain it happened before," Lewis reasoned.

"Plus Jules just wants honesty," Miles added. "Said he respects if you sleep with Aurélien. Ball's in your court."

By the time she hung up, YN was somehow more confused than before. But her shoulders felt lighter.

Now she just had to figure out what to wear to this damn match. After two more puffs from her vape, she went back into her room and got dressed.

An hour later, YN studied her reflection, adjusting the Les Bleus jersey Jules had given her. The fabric felt expensive, custom-fit. She paired it with high-waisted jeans that made her ass look fantastic - if she was going to have two French footballers eyeing her, she might as well give them something to look at.

In the car, she deep-dived their Instagrams. Jules' feed was pure fashion editorial — designer fits, artistic shots in Paris and Barcelona, the occasional shirtless workout pic that made her bite her lip. His captions were thoughtful, sometimes poetry in French that had her reaching for Google translate. Meanwhile, Aurélien's grid screamed quiet confidence — training videos where his muscles rippled, candid shots with that intense gaze, photos with his family that somehow made him even sexier. Both their comment sections were thirsty as hell, but neither seemed to engage with the attention.

JULES: Pros:

Those dreads and that smile that haunted her dreams

French model vibes with the fashion sense to match

Already kissed (and LORD what a kiss)

Gentleman in streets, freak in sheets energy

Actually listens when she talks, remembers details

That swagger when he walks

Speaks three languages fluently

Likes her music (actually listens to it)

Cons:

Not usually her type physically

Athlete (still trying to break that habit)

Best friends with potential other dick appointment

Might be too smooth for his own good

AURÉLIEN: Pros:

Tall dark and handsome (her exact type)

That VOICE could make her pregnant just listening

Those EYES that seem to see right through her

Built like a Greek god with abs for days

BDE off the charts

Probably throws it down like a champion

Quiet confidence that screams "I can ruin you"

Has a cute dog (Ocho gets extra brownie points)

Cons:

Athlete

Best friends with current makeout partner

Might be too intense

Haven't even kissed yet (but lord does she want to)

Probably knows exactly how hot he is

The stadium was a madhouse. French fans had taken over one end, their chants echoing across the pitch. She filmed some of the pre-match atmosphere for Big Kyle ("Girl what in the soccer hell are you doing?" he texted back) and her mama ("Get you one of them fine men baby!").

When the teams lined up, her breath caught. Jules and Aurélien stood next to each other, both in their element. Jules caught her eye and winked while Aurélien's gaze was pure heat – a deadly combination that had her squirming in her seat.

The match itself was intense. She found herself actually getting into it, screaming at calls she didn't understand and filming Jules' defensive masterclass and Aurélien's midfield dominance.

"This sport is all edge, no release," she muttered in annoyance during halftime.

France's goal in the 85th minute sent the stadium into chaos. She jumped up with everyone else. The team celebration was pure joy – until she caught sight of Jules and Aurélien, shirts clinging with sweat, muscles pumped from exertion.

I'm in trouble, she thought, crossing her legs.

Her pussy throbbed in agreement.

_______________________________________________

YN waited in the designated area, trying not to stare at the crowd of women who looked like they'd stepped straight out of a Fashion Nova ad. All skin-tight dresses and platform heels, clutching jerseys and phones.

This must be the WAG recruitment section.

Aurélien emerged first, fresh from the showers in ripped jeans and a Dior tee, topped with Virgil's Nike collab.

"RIP Virg," YN said automatically, nodding at his feet. "I've got the same pair."

His eyes lit up. "You know about Virgil?"

"Please, I cried when he passed. The Louis drops were iconic."

They fell into easy conversation about fashion until Jules appeared, also shower-fresh and designer-clad.

"Cama's staying back to play COD with Michael and Ibou," Jules announced.

Aurélien kissed his teeth, saying something in French that made Jules smirk (she really needed to learn ASAP).

Oh god, she realized as panic began to settle at the pit of her stomach. It's just us three.

The restaurant was all mood lighting and exposed brick, with intimate crescent-shaped booths. Of course she ended up sandwiched between them, Jules' thigh pressed against hers on one side, Aurélien's arm brushing her shoulder on the other.

She focused intently on her menu, then the silverware, then counting the exposed beams above - anything to distract from the heat radiating from both men.

Aurélien's throat clearing broke her concentration. "The wine here is excellent."

"Especially with the steak," Jules added, his hand finding her thigh under the table.

Her foot-in-mouth disease struck again: "Isn't this a bit awkward?"

"Only because you're making it awkward," Aurélien's voice dropped lower as his arm settled around her shoulders.

"Very awkward," Jules agreed, fingers drawing patterns on her thigh.

The waitress's arrival was both salvation and torture - salvation because it broke the tension, torture because after ordering her strongest cocktail, she was right back to being trapped between them.

Summer of YN? her intrusive thoughts purred. More like Summer of Getting RAILED.

For once, her rational thoughts didn't disagree.

"The duck here is a good choice," Jules suggested, his hand still drawing lazy circles on her thigh.

Aurélien's touch crept up her arm to the base of her neck, fingers gently caressing. "The fish too."

The dual sensation sent electricity through her body. "I have to pee!"

She practically sprinted to the bathroom after Aurélien let her out, locking herself in a stall and calling her mama.

"Mama, I'm at dinner with both of them and I don't know what to do!"

"Baby girl, listen to me," Sherelle's voice was unusually serious. "Don't make any choices tonight if you're still conflicted – not about one, not about both. Just enjoy the free meal."

"Thanks mama."

After actually using the bathroom and washing her hands, YN stared at her reflection, taking deep breaths.

She returned to find them laughing, speaking French:

"Ce but était fou!" (That goal was insane!)

"Oui, mais ton arrêt était meilleur." (Yeah, but your save was better)

"We were about to send a search party," Aurélien teased, letting her slide back in.

Jules pushed her drink closer. She muttered thanks and downed half of it.

"Damn girl," Aurélien whistled.

Jules chuckled while YN sat up straighter, trying to ignore how their hands found their previous positions - though now Aurélien was playing with her hair.

The waitress returned for their orders, both men responding with "Danke schön."

Four languages, her brain noted. Impressive.

As they ate, Aurélien showed her more pictures of his Belgian Malinois, Ocho. "He's my baby."

But their touches never stopped — Jules' hand on her thigh, Aurélien's fingers in her hair. Their eyes kept finding her, both clearly interested.

The rest of dinner was a delicious torture. YN learned that Aurélien had picked up some Italian during his time at AS Monaco, both men were well-traveled, passionate about their craft, and seemed to genuinely want to know her thoughts on everything from music to politics.

"Your take on identity in 'Quarter Life Crisis' went hard," Aurélien said, his fingers still playing with her hair. "Being Black in predominantly white spaces…"

"The pressure to conform," Jules added, squeezing her thigh gently.

They had dessert – a dark chocolate mousse that had YN trying not to make inappropriate sounds as she ate. Both men watched her lips wrap around the spoon with undisguised longing.

When the check came (which they split, waving off her attempt to contribute), YN's head was swimming from both the cocktails and the constant physical contact.

"Where to next?" Jules asked, helping her out of the booth.

"I should probably head back…" she started, but Aurélien's hand found the small of her back.

"We could get drinks at our hotel," he said, that deep voice making her shiver.

The look Jules and Aurélien exchanged wasn't lost on her. Her mama's words echoed in her head: Don't make any choices tonight if you're still conflicted.

"Rain check?" she managed.

"Sure, chérie," Jules smiled, though his eyes held heat. "Let us at least drive you back."

The car ride was silent but charged. Jules sat next to her in the back while Aurélien took the front, but she could feel both their attention on her.

Outside her hotel, they both got out to say goodnight. Jules kissed her cheek, lingering. "Sweet dreams."

Aurélien's goodbye was a whispered "À bientôt" that made her toes curl.

In her room, YN collapsed on the bed, her skin still tingling from their touches.

Her phone buzzed - a group chat had been created:

Jules 🇫🇷: Thank you for having dinner with us x

Aurélien 🌹: Sleep well, belle

I really am in deep fuckin' trouble, she thought, staring at the ceiling.

YN scrolled through her phone, some German reality show playing in the background. Her Instagram feed was flooded with footage from yesterday's match, but one post made her pause:

[Photos: YN cheering at the match, YN in Jules' jersey, zoomed shot of Jules looking her way during warmup]

Liked by theshaderoom, balleralert, and 394,197 others

PopCultureTeaaa: Grammy winner YN_YLN spotted at France vs Belgium match in Düsseldorf 👀 Wearing Les Bleus jersey and sitting pitch-side… Wonder which French player caught her attention? Sources say she was seen with defender Jules Koundé 🔥 Hot Girl Summer continues!

view all comments….

damari_rushes: Lmao anything for clout 🤡 ↳ tsrfans: You really got the nerve after what YOU did? 💀 ↳ popculture_tea: Not you in the comments when you got caught with 3 different girls ↳ ynglobal: WEREN'T YOU JUST WITH A SWIMSUIT MODEL?? Sir… ↳ chartdata: Her album about you went #1 tho 🤷🏾‍♀️ balleralert: Jules Koundé? Good upgrade sis 👏🏾 complex: W rizz sportsbible: Koundé's defense strong on and off the pitch deuxmoi: Actually saw her at dinner with TWO French players 👀

The DeuxMoi comment made her stomach flip. There were blurry shots of her with Jules, but none with Aurélien… yet. If people found out about both of them…

A knock interrupted her spiral. She adjusted her bonnet, wrapped her robe tighter, and peeked through the peephole – only to find it blocked.

"Just open the door, cherie," Jules' voice called out.

She opened it to find both men holding paper bags. "This has to be a fucking joke."

Aurélien's smirk could melt steel. "Are you gonna let us in or…"

"I'm seriously thinking against it."

Jules chuckled. "We got crepes."

The smell hit her nose and her stomach betrayed her with a growl. "Fine, but no funny business." She moved aside to let them in and watched them unpack enough food for a small army, squinting suspiciously.

They'd clearly planned this.

After washing their hands, they settled at the dining table.

"Come sit and eat, YN," Aurélien said, biting into his bacon.

"Yeah, cherie," Jules added.

YN sat between them again and they ate in silence until Jules shifted toward her. "We want to apologize about last night. We might've come on too strong. We're French, it's unfortunately in our DNA to just–"

"Go off the deep end?" YN finished, spreading jam on her croissant.

"Yeah…" Jules laughed. "Like I told you before. Auré and I have been tight since Bordeaux - that's about nine years of friendship."

"Give or take," Aurélien added.

Jules rolled his eyes fondly. "That's my bro. And dealing with liking the same girl…again… is annoying but it is what it is."

YN blinked. "So…?"

Aurélien interlaced his fingers, placing both hands on the table. "We just trying to see who should talk to you or if you could make it so much easier and just hang out with us both. Separately or together."

"Oh." Then a lightbulb went off in realization: "OH."

"I mean if you want," Jules rushed out, eyes mischievous.

"Or separately," Aurélien added.

"Either way works with us."

"Hold on," YN's mouth moved faster than her brain. "You guys… did… it… before?"

"Once or twice," Aurélien shrugged. "We were young, eighteen and twenty with some girl from Bordeaux."

"We really didn't know what we were doing," Jules admitted. "But Auré and I were talking last night after we dropped you off. Hashed some things out. Decided that if it did happen again, we should talk about it."

"And this is what you guys came up with?" They nodded and she fanned herself with a napkin. "Okay… uh… thanks for the honesty?"

"You're welcome."

"No problem."

"Can I think about all this?" YN asked. "I mean, yes to separately, but the idea of both… at the same time…. I need more time to reflect on all that."

"Sure," they chorused.

"And you guys wouldn't be mad at each other, will you?"

They laughed. "No, Jules and I are brothers for life," Aurélien smiled.

"Okay, whew…" She wiped fake sweat from her brow. "And you know this isn't serious, right? Like don't catch any feelings…" Foot, meet mouth again. "What I mean is that I'm focusing on my career and I don't want to get in any relationship right now–"

"We understand," Jules said.

"100%" Aurélien agreed.

They finished breakfast, Jules and Aurélien clearing the table like they'd done this a hundred times before.

"Got a sponsor meeting," Jules announced. "See you later?"

"Yeah, later," YN agreed before his lips found hers, his hand cradling her head. Even with Aurélien watching, the kiss made her toes curl.

"Prends soin de notre fille," (Take care of our girl) Jules told Aurélien.

Aurélien sucked his teeth, pushing him playfully before dapping him up.

Once Jules left, Aurélien's gaze found her. "Let's chill, bébé." He took her hand, leading her to the bed. He kicked off his sneakers - careful not to crease them - and lounged like he belonged there.

YN's thoughts went into overdrive. The way he moved, all casual confidence and lean muscle, had her brain shorting out. And those hands….Lord, those hands looked like they could...

"Come 'ere," he beckoned, and something about being told what to do made her melt. She lay beside him as he propped himself up on an elbow, studying her. "You're stunning, you know that?" His fingers traced her jawline. "Those eyes... that smile... the way you light up when you talk about music."

"You're handsome," she offered.

"I know." That smirk revealed an unexpected dimple on his right cheek. His cockiness should've been a red flag, but somehow it just made him more attractive.

Maybe athletes aren't ALL bad, she mused. At least these three.

We don't date them, her rational brain warned.

But fucking them? Go 'head girlfriend! her intrusive thoughts cheered.

"What're you thinking about?" His voice was pure sin - deep like aged whiskey, the kind of voice that could talk you into anything and make you thank him after.

"Nothing much." She changed the subject. "What did Jules say before he left?"

"Honest?"

"That's the best policy."

"He said to 'take care of our girl'."

YN blinked. "Wow, you guys really don't waste any time."

"We're French," he chuckled as if that explained everything. "Europeans are a little…"

"Possessive? Handsy?"

"We like what we like," he shrugged. "And we're just going off of you. Like you said at breakfast - separately until you want both. So separate it is. For however long you want to hang out with us, you're our girl."

Something about being "their girl" made her stomach flip pleasantly.

"And if I wanted to 'hang out' with other people?"

He gave her a look. "As long as it isn't anyone on the team, we're cool."

"I don't even know anyone else on the team besides you and Jules–"

"Good, let's keep it that way. No more teammates, but outside of that… sure, why not?"

"Are you going to see other–"

"Nah, I'm fine with what I have in front of me."

"Interesting."

"What can I say? I know how to share," he chuckled. "I'm a big brother, so I guess it comes with the territory."

"I saw the pictures on your IG, the ones with your siblings."

"Are you stalking me?"

"No," she said quickly. Yes.

"Yeah, I have two younger siblings. Anne-Maïsha and Yannis. Do you have any?"

YN shook her head. "Only child… at least from what I know. My dad left me and mama when I was three, so who knows?"

"I'm sorry, ma belle," he said softly, his large hand covering hers and giving it a light squeeze.

YN scoffed as memories of her absent sperm donor flooded her mind. "It's okay. Fuck him."

"Fuck him then."

Her smile had barely formed before his lips found hers. If Jules kissed like he was trying to steal her soul, Aurélien kissed like he already owned it. His lips were soft like the finest pillows, and the way he kissed was pure dominance — all teeth and tongue and promises of what that mouth could do elsewhere. When he pulled back, that smirk was deadly.

"You're going to be a problem. Aren't you?" she asked, but already knowing the answer.

"Maybe a bit," he said, truthfully. "I've been told that I make women go crazy over me."

"Wow...you're a cocky bastard."

"All cock, no bastard," he quipped then pulled her towards her for another kiss.

This kiss was hungrier, deeper. His tongue swept into her mouth as his hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer. She moaned as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, his other hand going inside her bonnet to touch her hair. Every touch felt electric, his fingertips leaving trails of fire on her skin through the thin robe.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. His eyes were dark with want, that dimple appearing again as he smirked at her dazed expression.

Best. Summer. Ever, she thought hazily, already leaning in for more.

The fro-yo place bustled with early evening energy. Jules was loading his cup with toppings - chocolate syrup, Oreos, and caramel gummies.

"You like chocolate?" YN teased.

"I love chocolate," Jules said winking at her and then slowly licking syrup from his fingers in a way that made her mouth water. The sight of his tongue sliding over his skin had her mind wandering to all sorts of inappropriate places - like how that skilled tongue would feel trailing down her neck, her stomach, between her—

"YN?! Oh my God, it is you!"

She plastered on her ‘fan smile’. The teenage girl bounced excitedly while her boyfriend looked bored.

"I love your album! It's on constant repeat!"

"Unfortunately," her boyfriend muttered, earning an elbow to the stomach.

"Can I get a picture?"

"Oh, we're kinda–"

"I'll take it, bébé," Jules offered.

The girl's excited scream nearly burst YN's eardrums. "Sorry," she whispered.

Jules turned into a whole photographer — crouching down for the perfect angle, directing them to move left, then right, catching the best lighting. He even suggested different poses, making the girl giggle as he found her best side.

"Thank you so much," she gushed to Jules, then turned to YN. "You're amazing. And your boyfriend takes great pictures!"

YN choked on air while Jules just smiled, watching them leave. "That's going to blow up online," YN said after they left. "Jules, I'm so–"

"It's okay, don't stress. Let's eat our fro-yo," he said, his accent making it sound like fwo-yoh, and YN doubled over laughing.

"Am I being bullied?" he pouted.

"Boy, don't even."

"What? You're making fun of my accent. You Americans, man," he clicked his tongue, exaggerating his French accent even more.

The cashier eye-fucked Jules as he paid, her eyes trailing over his arms in his fitted tee, but he didn't spare her a glance. YN bit back a smile.

Outside, warm summer air wrapped around them as they walked toward his hotel. Groups of people crowded the outdoor seating areas of restaurants, their laughter mixing with the sounds of clinking glasses and distant music from the bars along the Rhine.

"How was your day?"

She smiled, remembering Aurélien's kisses, how his hands had mapped her skin, the way his teeth had grazed her neck... "It was fun."

"I bet it was."

"Did Auré tell you—"

"No, we don't share details. You just look... satisfied and have a dopey-ass grin on your face."

At the crosswalk, waiting among the evening crowd, she bit her lip. "So Auré and I can do different things, right? Like... sexual stuff without you?"

"Is the world free? Sky blue?"

"Don't be a dickhead."

"Yes, you can do sexual stuff with him. I thought we covered this?"

"We did, but with you two having history–"

"If you're gonna suck his dick, just gurgle mouthwash before kissing me. Fair?"

She nodded, speechless. "What about–"

"Use a condom."

"How'd you know–"

His knowing look said everything.

Jules tossed his empty fro-yo cup in the trash, then turned to her with that devastating smile. "Now, can we stop talking about my best friend and go up to my room so you can let me lick you until you cum?"

Well shit if you put it like that, her thoughts purred. Her thighs clenched at his directness.

"Uh… sure."

"YN, cherie. Yes or no?" His voice dropped lower, making her shiver.

YES YES YES! "Oui." If only Duo could see her now...

"Merci," his eyes darkened with promise.

The hotel lobby was all marble and modern art, their footsteps echoing as they headed to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, Jules had her pressed against the mirrored wall, his lips tasting of caramel and chocolate. His tongue swept into her mouth as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer—

Ding!

Someone cleared their throat, making her and Jules jump apart, and Aurélien stood in between the doors wearing black Nike sweats and Bottega slides.

"What's up?" Jules' voice was remarkably steady as they fist-bumped.

"Nothing much. Getting my UberEats." Aurélien's smirk was pure sin. "Have fun."

YN yelped as his hand connected with her ass when she passed him, the sound echoing in the elevator. His deep chuckle followed them down the hall.

Jules' suite was pristine — floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, designer clothes carefully hung in the open closet, Rimowa luggage arranged perfectly in a corner.

"Are you good?"

"You guys are so weird."

"Yeah… just a bit." His eyes dropped to her lips, darkening again. "Now, where were we?"

Before YN could even form an answer, Jules closed the distance between them, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that made her toes curl. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise, one that sent heat pooling in her belly and her mind spinning. She gasped as his hands gripped her waist, and to her shock — and pleasure — he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. The feel of his strong arms beneath her, his body pressing against hers, made her dizzy with desire. He laid her gently on the soft mattress, hovering above her, his dreadlocks falling forward to frame his chiseled face.

Jules kissed her again, slower this time, his hands beginning their journey across her body. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her top, lifting it inch by inch until it was over her head, leaving her in just her bra. He pulled back, his eyes sweeping over her as though committing every inch of her skin to memory.

When his gaze landed on her bra, his lips quirked into a faint smile. "Take it off for me, bébé," he said, his voice a low rumble that made her shiver.

She reached behind her, fumbling with the clasp before it finally came undone. As the straps fell away, Jules’s breath hitched. Her dark, full breasts were soft and inviting, her deep brown areolas taut with arousal.

"Tu es belle," he murmured, leaning forward to press his lips to her skin. His tongue flicked over one nipple, and YN gasped, her back arching into a bow. He took it into his mouth, sucking gently, his hand kneading the other breast with firm, practiced movements. The sensation sent a jolt straight to her core, and she moaned his name, threading her fingers through his dreads to pull him closer.

Jules’s erection pressed insistently against her thigh, hard and unrelenting, but he wasn’t in a rush. He paused just long enough to coax her hips up and slid her pants down her legs, followed by her panties. Her bare pussy was exposed to him, the soft landing strip above her folds drawing his gaze.

"Mon Dieu," he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing her folds. "So pretty."

YN squirmed beneath his touch, the praise making her cheeks heat even as her arousal grew. He teased her clit with slow, deliberate circles, watching her reactions with a smug grin.

"Jules," she moaned, her voice trembling.

"I’ve got you," he assured her before stepping back to undress.

Her eyes widened as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing sculpted abs and broad shoulders. His skin was smooth and warm-toned. When his shorts and boxers dropped, her breath caught. His erection stood proud — long, thick, and with a distinct curve, the head glistening with precum. She couldn’t help the thought that raced through her mind.

It looks so delicious.

Before she could think twice, her hands reached out to touch him, her fingers grazing his abs before wrapping around his length. Jules groaned, his head falling back as her grip tightened.

"Careful," he whispered, his voice tight with restraint. "You’re driving me insane."

Tentatively, she leaned forward, her lips brushing the tip. The salty tang of his precum met her tongue, and she whimpered, eager to please. But as she took him into her mouth, her teeth grazed him slightly, and Jules hissed.

"Watch your teeth," he said gently, his fingers threading through her hair to guide her.

She adjusted quickly, finding a rhythm as she bobbed her head along his length. Jules’s groans deepened, his hips rocking slightly in time with her movements. His taste was intoxicating, a mix of salt and musk that made her want more, even as her jaw ached from the effort.

After a moment, he pulled her back, his chest heaving. "I need you to cum first," he said, his voice rough with need.

He gently pushed her back onto the mattress, spreading her thighs as he settled between them. His mouth found her again, his tongue exploring her folds with the same precision and care he’d shown her breasts. YN’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his mouth as he worked her clit with steady flicks of his tongue.

His fingers joined in, slipping inside her and curling upward to find the spot that made her cry out. YN’s legs bracketed his head, her muscles trembling as the tension in her belly coiled tighter and tighter.

"Jules, I’m—"

He groaned against her, the vibration sending her over the edge. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, her body convulsing as she cried out his name. Jules didn’t stop, lapping up everything she gave him with a reverence that made her head spin.

When she finally came down, he pulled back, his lips glistening. One hand fisted his erection as the other caressed her breast, his grip tightening as his hips bucked forward. He managed to jerk off two more times then—

"YN....putain," he groaned, his release spilling onto her stomach in hot, thick streaks. The warmth made her moan softly, her body still humming from the aftermath of her climax. Jules was breathless for a moment, his eyes fixed on her as he caught his breath. Then he smiled, soft and satisfied. "Let me clean you up."

"Okay," she said, her voice low and hazy.

He padded into the bathroom, returning with a warm towel to gently clean her. His touch was careful, his gaze tender. When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and lay down beside her, pulling her close.

"Good?" he asked, his lips brushing her temple.

"Magnifique," she murmured, making him chuckle.

"Not bad," he praised.

YN sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep pulled her under.

_____________________________________________

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows as YN stretched, her jaw still a bit sore from getting acquainted with Jules' impressive length, her thighs tingling from his expert tongue work. Dominique was right - European men were built different. She reached for Jules but found his side empty.

"Jules?"

"Bathroom," he called back. The toilet flushed, followed by running water.

He emerged in black boxers, morning wood on display, and YN couldn't help but appreciate the view.

"You're saying I'm the freak, but it's really you," he teased.

"I get down sometimes," she shrugged.

"Oh, do you?" He leaned down to kiss her, then trailed his lips to her neck. She moaned softly before he pulled back. "As much as I would love to keep going... I have to get you back to your hotel."

Reality crashed back - Hamburg, quarterfinals against Portugal.

"Got an extra toothbrush?"

"In the drawer, chérie. The blue one's new."

While brushing her teeth, she examined his skincare arsenal: La Mer moisturizing cream, Sunday Riley UFO acne treatment, Drunk Elephant vitamin C serum, and some fancy French brand she couldn't pronounce.

How does this man have better products than me?

Back at her hotel, Jules kissed her goodbye. "Team bus leaves in an hour. See you in Hamburg?"

"Yeah... though I might hang out a bit with Aurélien."

"You should," Jules smiled against her lips. "Just meet me before the match? I'll have someone bring you to the player's area."

"Not worried?"

"About Auré? Never. About Portugal? A little."

"Promise to kick Ronaldo's ass for me."

"With pleasure, chérie." One more kiss, then he was gone.

While on the elevator to her floor, she sent a text to her other French baguette:

YN to Aurélien 🌹 Dinner in Hamburg?

Aurélien 🌹 Perfect. I can give that ass another smack 😈 Been thinking about it since last night

YN You're impossible 🙄

Aurélien You like it though 😏 I'll make it worth your while, ma belle

Rolling her eyes but smiling, YN exited the elevator, walked down to her hotel room, and began to pack for Hamburg.

This summer just kept getting better.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[tsotg]

The Monster Hunter and the Hunted Monster

I thought of another universe I might wanna make content for. I know a lot of people already have this type of AU already but I can't resist making my own ;;-;;

Imagine Hiccup has been hunting Jack for ages. Jack has been one of the few creatures he's never been able to catch and that type of challenge is exhilarating. So he keeps trying to find him, luring him out with the threat of harm to his precious forest.

One day, for a reason or another, Pitch curses them both. They're both lost and trapped in a new and un familiar environment. Hiccup is overjoyed that he's finally able to catch Jack when they bump into each other but that feeling doesn't last long. They're both kind of terrified of where they are but won't show it to each other, instead letting it out as anger towards each other.

A few days into their banishment, Hiccup gets desperate. There's no animals to hunt, nothing to grow, he's starving and it doesn't seem like he's gonna get any food any time soon. So he goes to Jack and begs to know how he's not hungry. Jack replies with how he obviously doesn't get hungry because he's a spirit.

Hiccup breaks in front of him, he tells him how scared he is and how much he wants to go back home. Jack gets surprised, of all people, he would've never expected Hiccup to show this much vulnerability.

Jack feels the same as he does, he's scared and he wants to go home. And after settling down and making sure Hiccup isn't trying to trick him, he tells him so.

They talk about how much they love their home, about anything that comes to mind really. Until Hiccup has a fainting spell. Jack hurries to help him but has no idea how humans work anymore. He's been in his forest for so long.

When Hiccup wakes up, Jack asks him what happened. Hiccup reminds him how hungry he is and how little energy his body has. Jack hesitates before telling Hiccup how he has saved people lost in the forest in the same situation before but he's not gonna like how it's done.

Hiccup brushes it off, it can't be that bad right?

Jack presses his lips together in an awkward smile.

"Well- Not a lot of people get lost in the woods you know. And the children can see and hear me no problem. They follow the animals out of the forest. I've only done this twice and the first time I didn't even know I could do it so it wasn't super successful..."

"Just spit it out, if you can save me, do it. I want to go home after we get out of this shit hole."

Jack thought about telling him for a second but he doubted Hiccup would let him after hearing of the process.

"Ok, close your eyes then."

"Why?"

"It'll be easier for the both of us."

So Hiccup closed his eyes after giving Jack an eye roll. Jack took Hiccup's chin, opening his mouth slightly, braced himself and leaned in. As soon as their lips connected, Hiccup jumped in surprise and tried to push Jack away but couldn't find the strength in time before he realized what was happening.

This wasn't just a kiss, Jack's eyes glowed and his skin slowly lost the little colour it had left. He was transferring his energy to Hiccup. And Hiccup felt alive again. He leaned in slightly and enjoyed the feeling this gave him. Until he felt Jack's grasp on him weakened and he regained he train of thought again.

Jack took a second to snap out of the daze this put him in. Hiccup feared for a the worst for a second before Jack blinked a few times and his eyes went back to normal. He looked around for a second, almost looking as if he had no idea where he was. His eyes locked onto Hiccup and fear crept onto his expression. Hiccup felt him tense up in his arms. And then just like that, he took a breath for the first time since Hiccup closed his eyes and he looked normal again.

"For the Gods, if you told me this was gonna kill you I wouldn't have let you to do it!" Hiccup scolded.

"I didn't know it would do that. It never did in my forest." Jack looked off in the distance to ponder for a bit before what Hiccup said actually registered in his head. "Wait you're worried about me?"

"That's not the point."

"Yes it is!"

Jack gave Hiccup as teasing grin. Hiccup completely disconnected from the conversation and got up. Jack couldn't hold back, he kept teasing Hiccup as he tried to walk away.

"Well look who's feeling better." Hiccup tried to say it in a sarcastic tone but couldn't hold back a small smile.

==============

RAHHH PLEASE tell me if you wanna read more!! I will write more! And maybe I'll draw some better art of these gays.

[munsonluhvr]

UNDERCOVER LOVE

contents: Eddie Munson x popular!reader. sneaky link trope! eddie munson x f!reader. 18+ content! eddie is your sneaky link and passes u a note in class to meet him at your secret meeting spot.

“Psst,” the voice next to you says, calling your attention to them. Your classmate who sits beside you, leans discreetly across the aisle, a folded piece of paper in his hand. He eyes the teacher’s movements to avoid getting caught passing you a note.  “It’s from the freak,” your classmate whispers, a sympathetic look on his face. 

Over your shoulder, you glance at Eddie who sits several rows behind you, a smug look is plastered on his face. You give him a look, mad that he exposed the connection between you by enlisting your classmates to pass you a note. Couldn’t Eddie just wait after class and talk to you? 

You’ve been hooking up with Eddie Munson for months, the secret relationship never losing its excitement. If anyone found out, however, it would ruin both of your reputations. The popular girl could never be seen with the freak, right? Plus, Eddie has his own reputation to uphold as he’s expressed to you many times; he doesn’t want to be taunted or beat up by the immense amount of guys that fawn over you. It’s just easier to keep your activities with each other a secret. 

Underneath the desk, you un-fold the piece of paper. “After school – you know where,” is written in Eddie’s handwriting. You swallow, a hot flush engulfing your entire body, your cunt automatically beginning to moisten. Vignettes of the countless time you’ve met up with Eddie in secret, your body pushed up against school bathroom walls, his hand settled between your thighs turns over in your mind. Your legs clench together at the thoughts. 

Forty minutes later, after class had concluded, you’re wandering down the darkened hallway in the basement of the high school. Your stomach is filled with anticipation, wondering what Eddie has in store for you today. It had been exactly two weeks since the last time you had seen Eddie, one of his Hellfire Club trails lasting days and you had a cheer competition that took you out of town. The entire time you missed Eddie’s touch desperately, the memories of Eddie’s fluffy head between your thighs driving you mad; you had to touch yourself, over and over, to suppress the desire that was burning you from the inside out. 

 You and Eddie’s official meeting spot is the bathroom on the bottom floor beside the boy’s locker room. The bathroom was notoriously dysfunctional, a permanent ‘out of order’ sign plastered on the door. Eddie had deemed the bathroom a safe meeting place for you and his activities. Above you, the light fixture flickers in an infrequent pattern, voices floating down the hallway from the locker room. You hear voices coming down the stairs behind you, boys on their way to change into the locker room before practice, so you pick up your pace. Within a few paces, you are at the bathroom door. 

You knock lightly, one, twice. The door flies open, an arm flying out from inside the bathroom, grasping your bicep and pulling you in rapidly. Eddie pushes you against the wall, his large hand covering your mouth. “Shh,” Eddie whispers in a low tone. You frown, but nod against the strength of his hand pushing you against the wall. 

Your chest rises and falls, an intense wave of anticipation causing your knees to become weak underneath you. Outside, you hear the voices of boys get louder, approaching the bathroom door, then dissipate as they pass by and enter into the locker room, the double doors closing behind them. Once he’s sure there’s no one else coming, Eddie loosens the grip around your mouth. 

“Just had to make sure nobody else was coming,” Eddie says, his fingertips grazing the gap between your skirt and top. “Can’t have anyone hear you screaming, now can we?” 

Your top teeth graze your bottom lip, bringing your lip further into your mouth. You smile, your fingers trembling with need. Without hesitation, you reach out, your hand cupping the side of Eddie’s face, drawing his body closer to you. You’re still pushed up against the wall, Eddie’s body now pinning you back, and you let your hand travel to his crotch. “For the past two weeks, all I could think about his you fucking me.” You say, your hand enclosing on his crotch. 

Eddie let’s his mouth linger over yours, your confession bringing wild, dirty thoughts to his mind. Eddie, too, is eager to de-cloth you, the time away from each other causing Eddie the most unsatisfying experience of pure sexual frustration. Nonchalantly, Eddie unzips the zipper on the side of your skirt, the article of clothing dropping to the bathroom floor immediately. “What did you want me to do to you?” 

‘The most unholy things,’ is what you want to say but you know Eddie wants you to be incredibly specific; Eddie loves when you confess about the fantasies you have about him, about the time you spend together. You let your eyes flutter shut, your head thrown back, as Eddie hooks his fingers on your panties, beginning to pull down slowly. “T-That thing that you do with your tongue, I know you know what I mean.” You say, your breath hitching with every movement Eddie makes. 

“I think I do since you’re always left crying when I’m done. And look how wet you are for me already.” Eddie says, crouching to his knees. Now face to face with your bare cunt, Eddie places his hand on your thigh, your leg lifting to be hooked onto his shoulder. “Fuck, Eddie, c’mon. It’s been so long since I’ve felt you,” You whimper, desperation lacing your tone. At this point, you’d do whatever Eddie wanted, as long as his tongue was placed on your cunt. 

“Do you want me?” Eddie asks, his fingertips of his other hand grazing your soaking wet core. You nod, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “Ask nicely, then.” Eddie says. 

You whine, throwing your head back. Your fists clench, the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips against you tempting your patience. “Please, Eddie. I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” 

Eddie smiles, though you wouldn’t know because your eyes are squeezed shut, the anticipation too overwhelming. Eddie loves to tempt you before he goes in for the kill, watching your anticipation unravel until you can’t take it anymore makes Eddie hard, painfully hard, against his jeans. You’re so pretty when you beg, when you whimper, so Eddie complies to your mewls, his mouth attaching itself to your cunt. 

You exhale, the feeling of Eddie’s presence against you providing immense relief. His tongue works in small flicks, each movement sending shivers from your core through your torso. Your limbs become weak, your knees threatening to collapse on you. You had been with several guys before Eddie, but none ate your pussy like Eddie does.

Your hand shoots down to Eddie’s head, your fingers intertwining with his long, curly locks. You guide him deeper onto you, your hips beginning to rock against Eddie’s face. Eddie keeps up with your movements, his mouth maintaining its stance against you. Eddie reaches up, placing both of his hands on your hips, keeping his position firm. When you rock against his mouth, he catches your clit between his lips, making that the focus of his stimulation. Your eyes flutter, beginning to roll back into your head. God, did you miss him the past few weeks. 

With no warning, Eddie detaches his mouth from your cunt, his chin covered in a light sheen of your wetness. Eddie grabs your forearm, abruptly dragging you from against the wall to the counter where a row of three sinks is placed. With one swift movement, Eddie picks you up by the waist, lifting you onto the counter. With both hands, Eddie pries your legs open by your ankles. Your back is against the mirror, it rocks on the wall behind you as Eddie pushes you back onto counter. 

Eddie places himself between your legs, moving his hands off your limbs to his belt buckle and fly of his jeans. Eddie pushes his pants down just below his cock, automatically lining himself up with you. You watch as he gives you no warning and pushes thick cock into your cunt. 

“Oh, fuck,” You say, your head and body beginning to lean off to the side. Eddie steadies himself by holding on to the top of your thighs, utilizing this position to stroke steadily into you. Eddie begins intercourse with you at an even pace, each stroke pushing into your lower abdomen. You hold onto the faucet of the sink that sits beside you, needing something to grip onto as pulses of pleasure course through you. 

The way you sit on the counter, the top of your cheer uniform restricts your chest, your tits bulging out of the top. Crossing your arms across your body, you lift your top up and off from the hem, leaving you only in your bra. You’re quick to unclip your bra from the back, setting your tits free for Eddie to admire. Eddie watches you, then groans at the sight of your bare chest. He reaches out to you, cupping your breast from the bottom, his thumb and pointer finger pinching one of your nipples. You shiver, his hand feels cold against your hot skin. You realize you’re fully naked and Eddie has all of his clothes on. 

Eddie’s strokes become rough, each other pushing all the way into you. He removes his hands off of your breast, placing them back onto your hips. Eagerly, for several strokes Eddie submerses his cock completely into you; mesmerized that your tight cunt takes all of him willingly. Eddie leans back up, reaching out to put his hand around the back of your neck. Eddie pushes you forward and down, his cock in your cunt in your direct line of sight. “Watch,” Eddie says, gesturing towards where your bodies are connected. “Watch as I fuck the shit out of your tight pussy.” And you do, your heart in your throat as you watch Eddie’s cock, the veins that lace around his member, penetrate you, sending goosebumps up your biceps. 

Eddie holds you in this position until your back begins to ache, but you work through the pain, your body beginning to submit to whatever Eddie wants. You can already feel your cunt begin to throb. Eddie, on the other hand, feels himself getting closer to the end, unwillingly of course. If he could, he’d fuck you until the end of time. 

Eddie unlatches his hand from behind your neck, letting you unfold back into a normal sitting position. You begin to steady yourself again, your hands on either side of you where they fit around the two sinks that sandwich you, but Eddie steps back, pulling himself out of you. He pulls you by the ankles, bringing your backend off the counter. Placing both hands back on your hips, he rolls you onto your stomach, you are now looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Although the reflection is in front of you, Eddie is behind you enough that you can’t see what he's doing until he jams himself back into you, the extent of the soreness of your cunt revealing itself to you. You moan, the pleasure and pain overwhelming. 

You watch your reflection: the way your face contorts with pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together, your eyes beginning to water, as Eddie takes you from behind roughly. His hands are firmly placed on your waist, only leaving the position to grip your ass cheek. Eddie’s hands are magical to you, providing so much pleasure but never pain. You love the way his long digits finesse inside your cunt, the way he lets them creep into your mouth so you can suck on them, the way his large palms fumble with your assets. “Spank me,” you ask, making eye-contact with Eddie in the mirror. Eddie’s face shows slight surprise: you have never asked to be spanked before. 

“Ask me nicely, princess.” 

You scrunch your nose, a whine escaping your mouth. In reaction, Eddie pushes into you deeply, pushing your face into the mirror. “Ask me nicely, I said.” 

“Spank me, please.” You say, your fingertips digging into your palm. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie gauges how far is far enough to offer a satisfying spank, letting his hand connect with you hard enough that it leaves a red outline of his hand. Eddie almost feels bad for a minute, feeling your jolt against his touch, but he watches your face contort in such a way that makes him think his dick is a drug to you. Your eyes squeeze shut, your top teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A grunt releases from your mouth, your knees giving out underneath you. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more attractive then you at this moment, your body completely under his control. 

 Without any warning, Eddie releases deep inside of you, your cunt milking every drop of what Eddie has out of him. You both stay in place, your sweat covered bodies leaning against the sink countertop. You’re both breathless, your bodies gasping for air, in search of survival. 

When you recollect your breath, Eddie steps back, allowing you to pull your clothing on. 

“I wish you didn’t have to do that.” Eddie says, breaking the silence as he watches you step into your panties. He tosses you your skirt. 

“Do what?” You say, glancing at him as you shimmy your skirt up your body. 

“Put your clothes on; you’re body is like a work of art.” You blush at his compliment, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you bend down to reach for your bra. “You know, if we just dated I could fuck you at my house, not in a school bathroom, and you wouldn’t have to be so quick to put your clothes back on and I could admire you longer.” Eddie says, zipping his pants. 

You laugh, shaking your head. “You wish, but you know our rules.” 

Eddie shakes his head, crossing his arms. “Fuck the rules, you want to keep sneaking around like this? In this grimey ass bathroom?”  

You shrug, clipping your bra behind your back. “I don’t know, it’s kind of fun. It’s like our little secret.” 

Eddie leans against the sink counter, watching you hide your beautiful breasts from his sight in your bra. “Well, I, for one, would like to take you out. Like, on a proper date.” 

At last, you pull your top back on. “Oh, Eddie.” 

“I get it, you’re popular and I’m a freak; it’d never work out. Will you at least give me hope and say you’ll think about it?” Eddie says, leaning away from the counter and angling his body towards you. You shrug your backpack onto your shoulder, turning your attention to him. 

Eddie had become your safe space, the short time you spent with him turning from a classic hook-up, an undercover love affair, to the only point in your day or week that you felt like yourself. You were a popular cheerleader, the head of the Hawkins cheer squad. You had boys clamoring after you, your friends always telling you to pick the most popular one, but you never felt like you truly fit into that life. Everyone was always telling you what to do and how to feel, but the person you always thought about when you were on dates with these ridiculously childish teen boys was Eddie Munson. You had admitted to yourself, only a short while ago, that you had developed a crush on Eddie, tempted to do away with people’s opinions about Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and what they would say about you as a couple.

You step closer to Eddie, leaning up on the tip of your toes to push your lips into Eddie’s. His hand meets your cheek, cupping your face lightly. His mouth is sweet, the taste of you lingering on his lips. After a second, you pull away. “I’ll think about it,” you say, with a wink. You pull away from his grip, opening the door with the handle. You peek out the hallway, making sure there’s nobody passing by – you’re all clear. Before you fully exit the door, you look over your shoulder. “Pick me up at my house at 8 tomorrow.”