#there no good way to tell someone you cheated on them

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 3

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

You went after Powder who was leaving the last drop, “hey Powder, wait a minute”, you called her and she stopped looking at you with a frown and crossed her arms. “Look, I'm sorry okay? I should have told you, I know you're mad but…”, you didn't have time to finish because she interrupted you, “I'm not just mad, I'm upset too… why...Why her Y/n?”. She actually wanted to ask, “Why anyone else and not me?”, but she held herself back, she wasn’t ready for that, maybe she was too scared for that.

What would you tell her? That you still loved Cait? Maybe you did, or did you think so? Would you say that you were confused and didn't really know how you felt, or would you just say that you couldn't be alone for too long? Yes, your best friend knew all of this, she knew about your potential to easily give yourself to anyone because... because you had this fear of ending up alone, this fear of not being good for anyone, the fucking fear that no one would ever be able to love you.

“I went out with her last week, we went out to dinner and then we went to her house, it’s just… a casual encounter is no big deal.” If you knew how you were breaking Powder’s heart into a million little pieces at that moment, you would definitely condemn yourself.

“It’s not a big deal?”, she said perplexedly opening her arms, “Y/n we’re talking about the girl who cheated on you, she hurt your feelings, if you don’t remember how you felt at the time I do, I comforted you… your whole life I was the one who was by your side and not her, I’m the person who would never leave you alone, never”.

You approached her and held her hands, “I know and that’s why I’m so grateful to have you in my life, you’re my best friend Pow Pow, I love you and I don’t know what I would do without you.” She squeezed your hands in hers, knowing that you loved her in some way meant a lot to her. “I just want to see you happy, I don't like Caitlyn sorry honey, but I don't like her especially after what she did to you.” You started to wonder, “why is it so hard to find someone like Powder?”, someone like her would never hurt you, she was wonderful, but she was your best friend.

“You know Y/n, you deserve someone who likes you just the way you are, someone who knows how to value you, someone who knows how lucky they are to have you, you know someone who… who wakes up every fucking day and says “holy shit, I’m dating Y/n and no one else in the world is that lucky only me”, do you understand that?”.

You felt like crying. Powder always made you feel special. She was the only person who made you see your own worth. You held back your tears and pulled her into a tight hug. You felt her wrap her arms around your waist and hold you close. She was so close to your face, she just needed to move a little more and her lips would be on yours.

You pulled away from her, “Thank you for that, sometimes I need someone to remind me of that.”

“Yes, I know… and I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t forget.” She smiled and caressed your cheek with her thumb. fuck she wanted so badly to drag you to the dark corner and kiss you right now, maybe you would kiss her back, maybe you two would reveal your feelings, then she would take you to her house and taste you, maybe she would…

“Oh there you are,” Ekko’s voice took her out of her reverie and you looked at him - who you soon noticed was sad - Powder rolled her eyes and put her hands on her waist, he always appeared to interrupt the moment and that was already making her irritated.

Ekko approached you and held out his hand handing you a piece of paper folded in half. “Someone wants me to give this to you,” he said, his voice still dejected, he didn’t look at Powder once. You took the paper and frowned, “what is this?” you asked. “I have no idea, a guy asked me to give this to you, and before you ask, I don’t know who the guy is either, I’ve never seen him around here before.”

You were a little confused, curious and at the same time worried that this could be something serious, but Powder knew exactly what it was, some guy at the bar flirting with you and wanting to buy you a drink, how she wished she could tell all of them that you were not available because you were hers. “Well, good night girls,” Ekko walked away from you two and continued on his way with his head down.

You ignored the note for a second and looked at your friend, “You dumped him, right?” You were referring to Ekko. She shrugged, “Sort of… but he wasn’t like this when we got here.” You curled your lips, “So what happened?” She had a hunch that maybe he noticed her advances on you, but she couldn’t tell you that.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” you asked curiously. “He’s just my friend, the fact that I went out with him once doesn’t change anything… wouldn’t you go out with any of your friends?” You didn’t quite understand the question, you didn’t know if she wanted you to answer or if it was just a rhetorical question. In fact this was just a way to know what you would say even though she was afraid of the answer.

You thought for a second, you never went out with any of your friends, maybe because you liked them just as friends, maybe you just needed to think a little more or just look at Powder right in front of you before saying what you said. “I wouldn’t go on a date with any of my friends, those things rub the friendship”.

Powder felt a tightness in her heart, maybe after that the best thing to do was for her to try to get over you and have you just as her best friend, but how would that be possible when you were her dream? And every day that passed, this passion for you only grew and took over her every second she spent by your side. “Well, I guess it depends on how both feel about each other,” she said finally.

“Yeah, maybe… I mean… no,” you closed your eyes, getting confused about your words, “I don’t think it’s that simple… anyway, let’s see what’s here?” you said, opening the piece of paper in your hands as quickly as possible, ignoring your heart beating erratically once again. Of course you blamed it on your anxiety to read what was written on the note Ekko handed you.

You unfolded the paper and Powder approached you to read what was written, you read it out loud, “Hey pretty girl, I've been eyeing you all night, can I buy you a drink?”, you were holding back from laughing, Powder on the other hand, wasn't very comfortable with it, “if you accept, I'm the guy sitting alone at the table on the right corner, I'll wait for you”.

You looked at your friend and laughed, “These guys don’t know when to stop,” she said crossing her arms. “Oh come on, you’re just jealous because I got the note and you didn’t,” you laughed, mocking her. “Pssh, as if,” she said, pushing your arm away slowly. “He might be cute,” you said, looking at the note. Powder felt her body boil with jealousy, but she held herself back. “Do you want to go back there and see if he’s still there? If he is, I won’t judge him.” As she said this, her eyes widened and she looked at you from the corner of her eyes, a chill ran down her spine, how could she have let that out loud?

You looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Of course not,” you said, crumpling the note and throwing it behind you somewhere. “Tonight I want to have fun with my best friend, without any disloyal ex-girlfriends or barflirts, just you and me… our sleepover, remember?” You held out your hand to her. Surely if she could, she would grab you and kiss you right now. But instead, she took your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“Part three of the night: braids in your hair,” you said laughing. “Okay, you’re silly,” she said pulling you closer to her, wrapping her arms around your waist…

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

It's been three days since the day you went to the movies with Powder and Ekko. You've had time to think about what Powder had said about Cait and you've been ignoring her calls ever since. Today was Saturday, the day of the party in Zaun at The Last Drop. You got ahead on your academy work and told your parents that you couldn't attend their party because you had work to finish.

It was night and you were finishing getting ready for the party when your hexphone vibrated and it was a message from Cait, you read it in the notification bar,

“Hey princess, sorry to be insistent, but I'm not going to give up on you... I'm sorry for what I did to you, I can fix things, give me a chance to change everything. Please give us a second chance. Are you going to your parents' party? I hope so! I need to see you! I still love you baby, don't forget that.”

You couldn’t say it didn’t affect you. Powder was right in what she said before, but what if Cait had changed? What if she really still loved you? People make mistakes and fuck things up, but they’re also capable of change, aren’t they?

For a minute you thought you could go to your parents�� party to talk to Cait. But then you looked at the picture frame on your dresser that held a picture of you and Powder and you knew in that exact moment that she was the one you were supposed to be with tonight. You didn’t know why you felt this way, or why your heart was beating so fast inside your chest. You and Powder had been friends for years and you had been with her countless times, but tonight felt different. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you had to be with her.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You went to Powder's workshop - where you knew she would be - and found her in front of the mirror grumbling about not being able to get her eyeliner right, she didn't even notice you had come in.

“Do you need help with that?” She immediately looked in your direction and glanced at your short white layered mini skirt and your low-cut silver top that really showed off your beautiful round breasts. “Damn,” she thought.

You approached her and took the eyeliner pen from her hand, “ok, head up, eyes closed,” you said standing between her legs - she was sitting on a stool in front of the mirror - she did as you said and you held her face while you applied the eyeliner to her right eye.

She was clasping her hands together, she wanted to hold your waist, in fact she wanted you to sit on her lap while you fixed her makeup, she had dreamed about this so many times. Your soft tickle on her skin, your scent taking over the entire space, fuck she just couldn't take it anymore. Then she raised her hands and held your waist and you didn't care at all.

“Ok, I think this is good, you like it?”, you got out from between her legs and she took her hands off your waist, turning on the stool to look at herself in the mirror. “I couldn’t have done it better,” she said, admiring her eyeliner—now perfect—thanks to you.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

Arriving at the party, you two joined Claggor and Mylo. ​​“Hey, Y/n, I’m glad you came,” Mylo said, laughing awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. “So… do you want to dance? Or have a drink?” Before you could answer, Claggor elbowed him and then looked at Powder furtively. Mylo had irritated her, in every way, since they were kids. Of course she loved him, but to her he was a jerk and she knew he had no chance with you, so she wasn't bothered by his advances towards you. “Maybe later,” you finally replied.

You looked around and saw Gert passing by carrying a tray with drinks, your gaze met hers and she gave you a mischievous smile, you smiled back and looked down, you thought she was a very pretty girl.

After a while, Powder went to talk to Vender and you were alone for only half a minute until you heard a female voice behind you, “I thought it was impossible for a girl like you to not be accompanied, but since you're not, lucky for me then”, you turned around and came face to face with Gert. “Be careful, I might be alone for a reason,” you said smiling. “What reason?” she asked, tilting her head and looking from your lips to your eyes. “I might be a heartless lunatic who hurts everyone I come into contact with,” you joked. She curled her lips, “You’re worth the risk, doll,” she said, grabbing a strand of your hair.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

While you flirted with Gert, Powder leaned against the counter and watched you smiling and letting Gert touch your arms, hair, hands... every party ended like this, you met someone, started dating that person and it wouldn't last more than three months and you would suffer from the lack of someone you didn't even like that much just to make up for the lack of self-love that you should have and didn't have or for the fear of ending up alone.

She wished didn't love you so much, she wanted to see you as just her best friend, but you were so much more than that and it hurt her every day. If you only knew that these people would never love you like she does...

Powder was so distracted looking at you that she didn't notice when Vender leaned next to her on the counter, but he was inside. "Why don't you ask her to dance?" he asked, making the blue-haired girl jump in fright. “What? No! Why would I do that?”, she said, frowning in an attempt to hide it. Vender smiled, “I know that look, you like her.” Powder’s heart could jump out of her mouth at any moment. “She’s my best friend, of course I like her,” she laughed nervously. “Powder…”, she took a deep breath, she knew there was no point in denying it, Vender knew.

“Is it that obvious?”, she asked, still looking at you. “Why don’t you tell her?”, she took her eyes off you and looked at Vender with a frown, “Are you crazy?” Vender she is my best friend, if I tell her she’ll get weird and we won’t be friends anymore, I can’t lose her.” Vender sighed, looked at you and then said, “Look Powder, if she really is your friend nothing will change that. Nothing is more important than a friendship and you not wanting to tell her that you love her for fear of losing the friendship between you proves that. But I still think she should know, you should know… she might feel the same way about you, isn’t she worth it? Isn’t she worth the risk?” Powder didn’t answer, she just remained thoughtful and looked back at you.

She thought that maybe Vender was right, it was time to tell you. And seeing Gert getting closer and closer to you encouraged her even more. “Vender, give me a drink,” she said without taking her eyes off you. Vender smiled and handed her a glass of alcohol. She drank it all in one gulp and then looked at Vender smiling, he patted her arm encouragingly, “now go talk to her…”

Leave comments, my loves!

Happy New Year, everyone 🌟🥂

[eddiesghxst]

CRUEL INTENTIONS - part three: eden

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: steddie x innocent/shy!reader

summary: you're a new student at All Saints Catholic Academy and Steve and Eddie have every intention to sink their teeth into you.

contains: enemies to lovers between steddie, blasphemy/religious talk, smoking and alcohol use, blood kink, chasing kink, masked man, depictions of a panic attack, depictions of a threesome, descriptions of heavy guilt, corruption kink, mentions of subtle bullying, mentions of shitty parenting, slut shaming, SMUT - 18+ , oral (m and f receiving), cum play, cheating (not on reader), NON-CON/DUB-CON, and stevie having gay panic <3

word count: 9.9k

WARNING: this fic contains dark themes including - NON-CON/ DUB-CON, manipulation, coercion, and corruption. Please fully read the content warnings before proceeding. Again, THIS IS A DARK FIC, do not read it if you're not comfortable with it!

I previous part | next part I

I series masterlist | -main masterlist- l

Steve has a very strict night routine.

Five days out of the week, Steve has rugby practice until 7. Most boys on the team simply take a quick shower and call it a night, but no, Steve has a step-by-step routine that he follows each night— not even Nancy could sway him from the path of his night routine.

Because you see, when Steve was younger, his parents were prissy and precise. Everything was done on time, and every hour had a task. If Steve were to ever stray from that schedule, he’d be made to feel like a failure. It’s ingrained in him, woven into his DNA, this life of doing things by order. 

So it’s a little shocking (and concerning) that Steve immediately threw his nightly ritual out the window the second Eddie told him about tonight.

And it seems as if this will be a reoccurring theme with you— Steve altering his life just to get a glimpse of you. Because ever since you came along, it’s like Steve’s entire world has been flipped and lit on fire. He can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting you. Has to hold your name on his tongue when he’s balls-deep in Nancy because, fuck, you’re the only thing he wants right now. He feels bad, but not enough to stop.

“You’re not fucking her yet, but she has to at least get used to you being around.”

Which is true, Steve supposed. Eddie is many things, but a liar is not one of them. If Steve hopes to ever swing his dick near the pot of gold between your legs, then he has to at least work a little bit for it. This way, he doesn’t have to worry about you running off and telling someone about it.

Trust. Though a distorted version from your point of view, it is still an essential part of this plan.

Steve doesn’t know much about said plan, which is kind of his fault. Because when Eddie approached Steve after a particularly rough day at practice, Steve kind of told Eddie to fuck off, so Eddie just left him with a quick, “If you ever plan on fucking her, then I suggest you haul your ass to my room tonight, asshole.” So, Steve had no choice but to follow through on that.

Because Steve will never get through to you without Eddie. Because Eddie is the catalyst. Eddie is the bridge that Steve needs to reach you— which is annoying because now when Eddie’s got his fist wrapped around his cock, and he’s thinking about you and how pretty you looked with his cum coating your lips, how good you taste, and how pretty you sounded— those familiar brown eyes slip into frame and suddenly Eddie is right there along with you— lingering. Like a phantom.

Steve can’t stand it.

But he needs you. He needs you almost more than he needs air. Because Steve usually gets whatever he wants in the blink of an eye, but you…

You’re forbidden fruit.

And sitting next to you, so close to you, with you squirming and avoiding the screen that displays some cheap porno— Steve thinks he might explode.

You turn to Eddie, shy and scared, digging your fingers into his shirt and tugging. “Eddie, I don’t—“ “Shh, bunny. We’re watching a movie. Didn’t I already tell you not to talk?”

You frown, big, wide eyes soft and wet with tears. You don’t like this; that much is obvious. And Eddie’s struggling to keep a grin off his face like a cocky bastard.

There are soft moans spilling from Eddie’s TV. Two guys, one girl, and oddly enough, the girl looks like you. Steve thinks Eddie did that on purpose, and he can admit it was clever, even if you might be slightly too dumb to notice.

They have the girl on a cheap leather couch, splayed out on her back, with one guy stuffing his face between her legs and the other guy thrusting his cock deep into her throat, wrapping a hand around the bulge in her neck. 

You press your legs together, shifting in your spot again, and Steve catches Eddie’s eye. Eddie subtlety nods towards your lap, giving Steve the green light (not that he fucking needed one), and Steve scoots closer to you.

Steve places a firm hand high up on your thigh, fingers spread deep into the insides of your thighs as he lowly says, “Sit still, sweet girl.”

You frown, caught between two walls with nowhere to go. Nowhere to run— scared little thing, you are.

Steve smooths his hand over your thigh, gently squeezing and molding your skin to his touch, soft and firm yet not enough to bring you pain— Steve doesn’t think he could ever hurt such a sweet thing like you.

The porno is in full swing now, the two men fucking the lady like it’s the last thing they’ll do, and you have big, full tears running down your face as Steve pinches your skin to open you back up. He slinks his hand higher, the lip of your skirt kissing against his wrist, making way for him. His pinky dusts across the hem of your panties, wet as he had expected— all of you wants him, even when you act like it doesn’t.

You gasp and tremble between the boys; your eyes squeezed shut with tears rolling down your cheeks thick as rivers— you look like a small bunny cornered by prey. Precisely what you are.

Eddie coos, shifts so he’s facing you more comfortably. He gently holds your face and coaxes you into opening your eyes. “You like it when Stevie touches you, don’t you?” He says.

You open your mouth to respond, but Eddie quickly butts in, “Ah ah…” He raises a finger to his lips, reminding you that he doesn’t want a single word falling from your lips. And you listen so well— without a single protest— Eddie’s done well on you thus far, but Steve likes to believe you have an obedient nature either way. 

Sentenced to silence, you shake your head no, and Eddie laughs. Soft and deep, brown eyes swimming with hunger and patience, “No?” He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. “You think I don’t know about you cumming on his tongue?”

You tense at that, body rigid beneath their touch as you turn to gaze at Steve with wide eyes, eyes swimming in guilt and the realization that Steve had lied to you. Your frown deepens then, more tears coming and Steve is now the one cooing. “Of course, I told Eddie, bunny. You knew that, though, didn’t you?” He teases.

You let out a muffled sob, squeezing your eyes shut again as tears fall. “You knew Eddie didn’t say you could open your legs for me, and I would have to tell him about your behavior.” He chastises. “So gullible, gonna get yourself in trouble being so stupid, sweet girl.” He gently coos. Your chest stutters with uneven breaths, and Steve’s cock throbs in his sweats.

With you being so unstable, Steve is able to slip his fingers past your panties without a fight. He slips his fingers through your wet folds, warm and sticky, leaning forward to press a kiss under your jaw as you twitch and squirm beneath his touch.

“Look at you,” Eddie prowls, “Shaking for his touch. Again. Did I ever say he could touch you?” 

You huff, eyebrows pinched in frustration as you shake your head. “Then why do you want it?” Eddie asks. Steve sinks a finger into your warm cunt, wetness spilling around his knuckles as your thighs tremble. “I—” Eddie clicks his tongue, reminding you of his rule of no talking.

Steve crooks his finger up, searching for that gummy spot of yours, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck as you struggle against him. “God, if I knew you were such a slut I wouldn’t have wasted this much time on you,” Eddie says.

You break your rules then, voice pleading and sad as you claw at Eddie’s shirt, “I’m not! I’m not, I swear. I didn’t know!” You sob. Steve watches in awe at the way you crumble for Eddie. You’re so desperate to please him, to be kept under his arm of security, unbeknownst to you that he’s the one you should be running from.

Steve is jealous… but he wants to learn.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Eddie widens his eyes. You shake your head, hips twitching when Steve begins dragging lazy circles over your clit. “H-he told me you said it was okay.” You frown. “Who did? Stevie?” Eddie asks. You nod, and Eddie’s gaze flickers to Steve, a ghost of a grin dancing in his eyes.

“I don’t remember saying that, sweetheart.” Steve lies. 

“Stevie never said that. So, either you’re lying, or Steve is lying. Are you calling Steve a liar, bunny?”

You look frazzled, seconds away from bursting into an uncontrollable fit of tears as Steve continues playing with you. And the truth is Steve is a liar. He lied to you when he said Eddie gave him the green light to get between your thighs. But you know better than to ever point fingers— again, a product of Eddie’s skilled teachings.

You shake your head no with a frown, and Eddie hums. “Well, did you like it? When Steve licked your slutty little cunt?” Eddie asks.

You’re visibly panicked, wide eyes darting to Steve, knowing he will tell the truth if you lie. There is no way out but through for you, and you know it. You shamefully nod, and Eddie hums again. He pets a gentle hand over your hair, letting you nuzzle into him when you begin to tremble with pleasure. “Would you like him to do it again, bunny?”

And if you’re smart enough, you’ll understand that even if you say no, Eddie will somehow coax you into splitting your thighs open for Steve again. You contemplate longer than Steve would appreciate, but the second he pulls his fingers from you and dips them into his mouth, your eyes flash with this little look that Steve has never seen from you.

Lust.

Steve sucks the juices off his fingers lewdly and greedily, never pulling his gaze from you. You watch, wide-eyed with trembling limbs and a pouty lip, Steve wanting nothing more than to kiss them until they’re sore.

Apprehensive yet interested, you nod your head shyly, and if the two boys hadn’t been watching you like a hawk, they probably wouldn’t have even caught it.

Eddie slinks his fingers through your hair, knuckles gently curling at the root as he drags you closer, kissing you filthy and raw. You whine, thighs closing around Steve’s wrist when he finds his hand back on your warm skin. It’s low against your lips, but Steve hears Eddie tell you, “Come here.” And you follow like an eager puppy wanting to please their owner.

Steve can taste you on his tongue, an overwhelming feeling to taste more as he watches Eddie move you around like you’re a lifeless doll. He places you with your back to his chest, your thighs pressed against Eddie’s knees as he gently tips your head back to kiss you again. Steve stands, shrugging off his jacket and letting it drop off somewhere he could care less about because Eddie is splitting your legs apart, presenting you nice and pretty for Steve.

Eddie’s whispering things in your ear, things Steve can’t hear over the low sound of sex from the TV, but he sees you squirm and pout, and he can only imagine he’s saying something about how dirty you are. How cute you are, all slick and ready for someone to put their hands on your greedy cunt. 

Eddie’s eyes flicker up to Steve’s as his hands trail down your sides, thick and decorated fingers pushing your skirt up and petting over your clothed cunt before hooking his fingers in the of the material and pulling it to the side. 

Steve’s hunger grows like an angry beast. Purrs deep in his chest, and puffs out so big it nearly breaks his ribs. He wants to take you right here and now. Press your thighs out as far as they’ll go, lick into your mouth and shove his cock deep into your cunt. It’ll hurt, probably be a fight to fit every girthy inches of him in, but he’ll make it work. You’re a fighter, anyway. Strong, even if you don’t know it.

“Well, don’t make her wait, Stevie. Look at her, she’s dripping.” Eddie purrs, fingers sliding through your wet folds, parting his fingers into a ‘V’ to show off your throbbing heat. 

Steve dips his knee onto the bed, leaning forward to rest on his stomach between your thighs. He takes you in, just as he did that day in the locker room, eyes casting over every piece of your pretty cunt and saving it to remember when he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock. Steve can smell you, drawing him in closer as you throb and a drop of slick slips from you. He groans, fingers gripping the back of your thighs, squeezing and molding you to his touch. 

“You want my tongue, princess?” He purrs. You whimper, shying beneath his gaze when he looks up at you from between your thighs. Steve blows cool air against you just to see you throb and squirm. You huff, lips pouting as you turn your head to look back at Eddie. Steve reaches forward, fingers gripping your chin to pull your face back down to look at him, “Don’t look at him, look at me.”

He runs a thumb over your lip, wet spit catching the pad of his finger. “Is he the one about to eat your greedy pussy?” Steve teases. You whine, shaking your head no. “Answer my question.”

Your hips squirm, halting when Steve’s fingers dig into your skin. Your answer comes shaky and shy, “Yes, please.”

“Good girl. Using your words,” Steve dips his thumb into your mouth, dragging it over your tongue, letting you get it nice and wet before he pulls away, pressing it to your clit. Your legs tremble, panting when he runs circles around the tight bud. Steve purses his lips, spit drooling from his lips to drip down onto your pussy before he leans forward and places his mouth over your pussy, hungrily lapping and sucking. 

“O-oh! Steve, I—” “Shh, shh. I want you to watch them.” Eddie speaks up, leaning forward to speak into your ear, directing your gaze to the TV. “Look at them. See how they’re using her? See how deep they’re fucking her, bunny?” He asks. You nod, Steve’s gaze fluttering as he devours you, fucking his tongue in and out of your warm hole. 

“You want us to do that to you?” Eddie asks, voice low and husky. It makes Steve’s cock throb in his pants. He thinks he hates it, but his mind is fuzzy enough with lust to ignore it. Steve grunts, nuzzling his face deeper into you, and your eyes widen at the words Eddie is saying. “I—” you huff, “I don’t know— s’so bad. It’s not right.” You slur under a whine. 

Eddie hums with a low chuckle, “Then how will you repay us for making you feel so good, hm?” His hands slip up your shirt, kneading at your chest and cracking a smile when you arch into his touch. Steve’s hips roll into the mattress, eyes rolling back into his skull at the pressure. 

“C-can’t, Teddy—” “But you want to. You want to be fucked, don’t you?” He purrs. You tilt your hips into Steve’s mouth, your body begging for more as you shudder between the two boys. You whimper, and Steve’s eyes are fluttering open, locking onto the view in front of him, your pussy fluttering against his tongue. You frown, your fists balled against the sheets as Eddie holds your chin, directing your gaze onto the TV. “See how much she’s enjoying it?” Eddie purrs into your ear. “See how thankful she is to be getting fucked well?”

You grimace at his words, your body melting into their hold with each passing second— Steve can practically see your brain melting out of your ears. You make the prettiest noises, and you move like you don’t know if you want more or less, but Steve doesn’t give you a choice as he tugs you impossibly closer, taking you for all you are. Eddie kisses your neck, wet and sloppily, and you whine like you hate it, but Steve can feel you pulsing around his tongue. 

“You should be thankful too, princess.” Eddie drawls into your ear, his hands still working beneath your shirt. Steve can’t help it when he reaches up and yanks at the buttoned half of your shirt, groaning into your cunt when you gasp and squirm. The sight of your tits spilling into Eddie’s palms drives Steve’s hips into the bed once more, desperate for some sort of pressure. 

Steve pulls away with a gasp, sinking a finger into your cunt as he looks up at you, his swollen lips parted and wet with your slick. “Go ahead then, doll,” Steve nods at you, “Thank us.”

Your chest rattles with a sob, and Eddie grins as Steve coos, “Say it, princess. Thank us for taking care of your slutty holes.” He demands. You cry out then, legs trembling when Steve brushes against that perfect spot, teasing it to keep you away from that release that you crave.

“T-thank you,” you breathe, eyes squeezed shut, your body tensed as you wriggle between them. Eddie growls, gripping your face, gritting into your ear as he speaks, “For what? What are you thanking us for?”

You gasp as Eddie’s teeth drag along your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to hazily look at Steve between your thighs, moaning when he slips in another finger. Your voice is heavy in shame, but you’re too fucked to refuse it as you say, “T-thank you… for taking care of my s-slutty holes.”

Eddie smiles, “Good girl. Let her cum, Stevie, she’s been so good.”

Steve’s mouth is back on you in record time, lapping and sucking and pulling you closer and closer to the edge until you’re crying out a sob so loud that Eddie has to slap a hand over your mouth. Your hips rise off the bed, and Steve pins them back down, groaning into you as he keeps licking you, your thighs closing around his head. And Steve loves it; he loves the feeling of your cute little thigh-high socks scratching up against his ears and your warm, wet skin on his tongue. Steve thinks he could die here, really.

Eddie’s cooing in your ear, telling you how well you did, how much of a good girl you are, and his gaze snaps down to Steve’s when he pulls away from you with a gasp, wiping his mouth and liking his lips like a lion that’s just demolished its prey. Steve sort of feels like one, honestly.

Eddie grins up at Steve, his eyes falling to the evident tent in Steve’s pants when he rises to his feet. You’re barely cohesive when Eddie lightly slaps your cheek a few times, “Wake up, bunny, we’re not done with your holes yet.”

Your eyes are blurred with pleasure when you blink them open, and Steve presses a palm to his crotch. You blearily blink at him, and he nods, “Come here.”

And like an obedient dog, you peel away from Eddie’s arms, your clothes disheveled and twisted as you crawl over to Steve. He reaches out, his hand slinking into your hair to drag you up until he can smash his lips onto yours, a hungry growl rumbling from his chest. Steve knows he should be more gentle with you, you’re such a fragile little thing, but the feeling of power that surges through him when he tightens his grip on your hair and leads you off the bed is damn near like a drug. He wants it in his veins all the time. 

You stumble off the bed, your socked feet knocking against Steve’s— it’s so fucking cute, Steve nearly coos. “On your knees. Get on your knees.” He orders. And again, like you were programmed for this, you fall to your knees, your hazy eyes slowly blinking as Steve sits at the edge of the bed and tugs his pants down. You watch as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking a few times, his hand still stuck in your hair.

Steve’s voice is kinder than his touch when he asks, “You remember what to do, princess?” Nodding with you when you respond, “Good girl, go on. Show me how thankful you are for me.” He says, and you shuffle forward to take him in greedily and sloppy, Steve’s eyes nearly rolling.

You suck him just as you did the first time, though it’s a little bit better than before; Steve supposes you and Eddie have been practicing more than enough. Even though you’re tired from your orgasm and your actions are less calculated, Steve finds himself enjoying it as if you were a pro.

Steve’s groans and mumbles of praise get closer and more slurred, and he supposes it was easy to tell how close he was because Eddie, a presence he had tried (and failed miserably) to ignore, steps into view right behind you, looking down proudly at his perfect project.

Eddie’s gaze holds a devious glare when he locks eyes with Steve as he sinks to squat next to you. He coasts a hand up your back, his fingers firm but gentle when they grip the back of your neck, his gaze finally leaving Steve to watch as your mouth greedily takes Steve’s cock in and out. And Steve is so close, and his body is so hot that he almost misses what Eddie says to you when he leans in— but Steve hears it loud and clear, “Don’t swallow. I want you to keep his cum in your mouth and show me, do you understand?”

And god, you fucking whimper and nod as best as you can, and Steve is a goner. And Steve usually cums a lot, sure. Nancy hates it, says it’s an inconvenience, but god, you take it like it’s nothing but a gift. You sit there, tear-streaked face, droopy eyes, and an open shirt as Steve cums in heavy spurts, coating every inch of your mouth as he curses. It’s so much that some of it spills out the side of your mouth, and the little bit that dribbles from his cock when you pull away lands on your chin, and Steve can’t help but tap his sticky tip against it.

Steve watches, blissed out and panting, as Eddie turns your face towards him. “Let me see, open your mouth.” He says, grinning when your lips part to show the thick mess in your mouth. “Good bunny.” He lowly hums.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Eddie leans forward, drags his tongue along the spilled cum of your face to lap it up before pressing his lips onto yours. Steve hadn’t seen it coming. Not at all.

He didn’t expect that he would be watching Eddie Munson eat his cum off your face tonight. He can see his tongue dipping into your mouth, lewd noises emptying into the air as he pulls Steve’s cum from your mouth and into his own. Yeah, Steve really didn’t expect that. And he doesn’t expect to feel his cock twitch at the sight of it either.

It’s disgusting, is what it is. Disgusting and downright debauchery, but Steve can’t look away, not even when Eddie pulls away and turns to lick his lips while gazing at Steve, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.

Eddie brings his thumb to wipe at the drop of cum that had been on the corner of his mouth before sucking it into his mouth— and Steve nearly cums again, and his cock throbs, and Eddie’s gaze flutters to see the way Steve’s dumb dick has filled with blood yet again. A small smirk rises on Eddie’s lips, and Steve can feel the heat rising in his cheeks— which is surprising, honestly, considering most of his blood is flooding downstairs. Eddie’s gaze flickers back to Steve’s wide eyes, and he finally says— “Not bad, Harrington.”

Steve nearly passes out.

What the fuck?

“Halloween is of pagan origin— therefore, we, as children of god, do not participate in any form of celebration on this day.” 

The week of Halloween has always brought an eerie feeling to you. Gorey movies and costumes of demons and distorted faces— it’s scary. Aside from the candy, you never understood why people loved the holiday so much. Your friends never understood your reasoning or why your parents would never in a million years agree to let you go trick or treating, but their judgment never bothered you enough to change your opinion.

The priest looks at the students, an unwavering expression of sincerity plastered on his face as he says, “Be wise with how you spend your time this weekend. There will be consequences for any of you who choose to participate in any activities pertaining to Halloween; am I understood?”

The room mumbles in agreement, as does yourself, and the priest nods before carrying on to close mass. Beside you, Nancy sits with her bible and journal in her lap; eyes cast forward on the priest. She’s been glancing over at Steve all night, watching him during prayer and nearly half of the service— you know this because you had been watching him right along with her, though your reasoning is not the same as hers.

Steve Harrington, star rugby player with his pretty brown eyes and honey-thick locks, was anything but kind when he pulled you aside before mass. He was greedy, possessive with his hold and grabby when he hiked your skirt up, pressed your face against the janitor's closet door, forced your thighs together, and rutted into them like a dog in heat. He had a rough practice, so he said. 

He apologized for being rough, said he didn’t mean it when he squeezed just a little too hard around your throat, and you all but sniffled and nodded and told him it was okay even though you were scared and your thighs now sting with friction burn. 

He had a tough day, and the least you could do was not make him feel bad about it. That being said, it doesn’t stop the stir of guilt that sat in your chest throughout mass. 

It’s hard not to feel guilty when your roommate's boyfriend's spend is sitting between your thighs, warm and squishy and tucked safely against your folds. It’s sickening, and it nearly makes you dizzy with shame. But Steve said it was okay, that friends do this thing, and Nancy understands; she would just rather not discuss it.

You could barely focus during mass, too busy trying to grasp what you and Steve had just done and trying desperately not to show it on your face. Despite your efforts, you can’t help but feel as if Nancy can see straight through you, and that’s why she's been watching him all night.

As soon as you’re dismissed, you begin working up the nerve to ask her, the words rolling around in your mind as you rise from your seat, but the second you turn to Nancy, she’s turning to go after Steve and you’re being tugged back by a firm hand.

“Where are you running off to, bunny? Don’t we have plans?”

You gaze up at Eddie, glancing over to watch as Nancy slinks out of the pew, and you nod, “Yes, but I—” “Then let’s go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Eddie all but drags you out of the chapel, tugging you along and slipping past the dark courtyard to get to the back of the dormitory. Nobody ever supervises the back of the dormitories. Eddie told you to always come through this route; that way, you can get into his room without a hassle. 

The path is dark, nothing but the moon and Eddie’s firm hand to guide you, and you try to focus on anything else but the snap of twigs beneath your feet and the burn between your thighs. However, the only thing that comes up in your mind is Nancy. 

“Um, Eddie,” you speak up. 

“What’s up, bunny?”

“I think… I think I may have upset Nancy…” You frown.

Eddie slowly pauses, turning to look at you, lips pressed in a firm line as his eyebrows furrow. “Did you say something to her?” He asks.

He’s towering over you, the darkness swallowing you both, exaggerating his stance. You feel like you’re drowning beneath him, sinking into the mud beneath your feet as you hastily shake your head no.

Eddie is so hard to read in this dim lighting, though he’s never been all that easy to read anyway. You can still hear a slight tone of relief when he says, “Good.”

Eddie turns and pursues the path, leaving you with panic and a racing heart. You didn’t say anything to Nancy— you made sure of it after Steve specifically sat you down and said you could never bring it up. But then, why could she not look at you all through mass? Why does it seem… tense between her and Steve? Are you to blame? Did you do something that may have upset her? 

How do you even ask without revealing the open truth?

The questions swirl in your head like a storm, grey and murky as they slink down your throat and spill into your chest, spreading and laying out with a weight that makes you feel as if the world has just crashed on you. 

You don’t realize you’ve made it to Eddie’s room until a plastic bag is shoved in your hands. You gaze at it briefly, shiny material crinkling between your fingers as you blink and glance toward Eddie.

Eddie nods, “Put it on.”

You step over to Eddie’s bed, put the bag on the mattress, and open it up to pull out the items inside. It’s an outfit, three items to complete a set of what looks to be a bunny costume if the bunny ears are any indication. The only problem, though is the dress, the main piece of the outfit, is incredibly short.

“I can’t wear this.”

You hadn’t noticed, but Eddie was busy getting dressed on the other side of the room. You look over at him, taking in his all-black attire and heavily swallowing when he glances at your laid-out costume. 

“Why not?” He asks. 

You glance at the dress before looking back at him, gesturing down at it as if it’s obvious, “Because it’s revealing!” You exclaim. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and resumes putting on the rest of his clothes, a long black robe-looking thing, “No, it’s not.” He responds. 

Your eyes widen as you look at the short dress, “Eddie, I-I’m not sure this will even cover my entire backside.” You shake your head. And when you lift it and turn it around, you realize that it definitely won’t— at least not comfortably.

“You’ll be fine. Other girls will probably be wearing something worse.” He dismisses. 

Your teeth gnaw into the soft tissue of your lip as you put the dress back on the bed, eyeing it with worry and dread. It’s… gross. Degrading and immodest in every sense of the word, yet Eddie, your friend, is asking you to wear it. You glance over at him, your world spinning again as you realize what this entire plan is: the costume and the urgency to leave all make sense.

You drag in a shaky breath, slinking your arms around your body as you take a step back, “I think,” you clear your throat before speaking louder to get your point across, “I think I’m gonna head to my room… Maybe study a bit and go to bed…” You softly say.

You step toward the door, not even glancing Eddie’s way because you know if you do, you’ll be stuck trying to please him. But Eddie moves quicker than you can, his hand pressing against the wooden door to stop you from opening it. 

“The dress is fine, doll.”

Your gaze dances up his frame, miles of black leading to his dark brown eyes. You want to be strong, put your foot down, and tell him no, but your tongue is tied. As it always is when it comes to Eddie.

You softly say his name, and he tilts his head, an ice-cold glare stuck on your eyes, daring you to say something more. Gravity pulls on your lips and your eyes, water threatening to spill down your cheeks when Eddie lowly and steadily says, “Go put on the outfit.”

You want to cry.

You want to wail and kick and scream until Eddie has no choice but to let you run to your room and stay there until Monday morning. You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to wear this costume you’ve been forced into, and you don’t understand why Eddie, who is supposed to be your friend, is being anything but friendly tonight. 

He doesn’t care that you didn’t want to wear the outfit. He doesn’t care that it’s revealing, that you feel uncomfortable, or that it’s hardly forty degrees outside and you’re shivering. He doesn’t care that you have to keep tugging the tiny dress down your thighs or that you’re practically stumbling over your feet with the heels he forced you to wear. And he doesn’t care to ask why your mascara is running when he looks over at you and wipes it away; he simply tells you that you look pretty, “Like a doll.”

You feel disoriented. Far from yourself and disgusted, and you can’t help the aching feeling in your chest when you think about how saddened your parents would be to see you like this. Half dressed in the middle of a Halloween party. They’d disown you, you’re sure of it.

Eddie’s hold is tight on you the whole night, whether on your hand, your waist, or his heavy hand resting on the back of your neck. He always has a hand on you. Oddly enough, Eddie’s touch seems to ground you despite how displaced you feel. It’s comforting to have something familiar while you struggle to grasp your morality. 

What are you doing here? How did you get here? Do you like this? Do you enjoy Eddie’s company enough to brave through this? 

You think you do.

The music is loud, and it’s packed with dancing bodies from wall to wall. You have to repeatedly tip the bunny ears on your head back into place from where they keep slipping, and you debate ripping it off every time. You can feel the bass of the music in your chest, the scent of liquor and smoke filling your lungs as neon lights dance across your eyes. 

Eddie has softened through the night. You’re not sure what had him wound up before, but he is back to doting on you, occasionally turning to you and brushing the skin under your eyes as his gaze softens and he asks if you’re okay. And you’re not. You’re cold and uncomfortable, and you want to go home, but Eddie’s touch is kind, so you find yourself nodding each time. And then he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, cool lips brushing against your skin, and returns to whatever he’s been doing all night. Stepping off into corners and sliding these bags to people in exchange for something you can’t quite see in the dim lighting of the house, but when you asked him, he told you not to worry about it. 

There’s a cup in your hands, a drink that Eddie gave you, which you have been slowly sipping for the better part of an hour. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, but there’s a bitter aftertaste that somehow balances it out enough for you to keep sipping on it. 

Eventually, you find yourself squirming with the need to pee, turning to Eddie and leaning up to reach his ear and tell him. He squeezes your hip, “I’ll be here, doll.” And you had hoped that Eddie would tag along with you for your safety and comfort, but he only turns back to the secretive conversation he’d been having.

You find yourself wandering up the stairs, eyes dancing around searching for a restroom. It’s just your luck that the first door you open happens to be one, empty and surprisingly clean for the chaos unfolding throughout the party. 

You try to be quick about it, eager to find your spot back next to Eddie, where you feel something along the lines of tolerable. You don’t miss the reflection of yourself in the mirror as you wash your hands, smudged mascara, taunting bunny ears, whorish clothing. You frown, tears pressing against your waterline as you gaze at yourself. 

Wrong. Open, unrecognizable, and wrong. 

Your shaky fingers grab at the bunny ears on your head, ripping them away and tossing them in the direction of the trash can, clattering to the floor in empty noise. 

After having a moment to breathe by yourself, you think you’ll ask Eddie to leave now, the pending urge to leave only growing stronger by the second.

You flip the bathroom light off and open the door, stepping out without looking, only to slam into a body. Apologies roll off your tongue as you stumble back, nearly falling from your stupid heels. Through your tears, you look up at the person, dressed in black and tall, face covered with a mask of black, distorted eyes, and a wide black mouth. 

You blink, stepping back as you mutter another apology, but they say nothing as they gaze down at you. Your heart races, fear seeping through you and staining like berries as you whip around and walk away— Eddie. Just get back to Eddie.

Unstable on stilts, you make your way back down the stairs and into the lion's den, crowded with drunk people dancing and talking, unmindful of where they go. And this house is big— too big. Big enough that when you glance around and realize you don’t know where you’re going, you start to feel even more panicked. 

Every corner is different yet the same:: dark lighting, flashing lights, and the music is too loud. You don’t know anybody here, and you don’t know your way back to Eddie. A glance over your shoulder and the panic amps to the nines as you realize the masked man is just a few feet away from you.

Is he following you? Why is he following you?

Fear runs through you like a freight train. Your feet carry you faster, weaving through people as your weary gaze jumps from corner to corner. Masked figures, blood, and distorted faces meet you at every turn. You never liked Halloween; you think you hate it now.

Eddie is nowhere to be seen, and you’re scared. Every place you turn is empty of your relief, and every glance back is full of fear. And you don’t feel good. You feel sick. Detached from your hands and feet yet so stuck in the walls of your skin— where is Eddie?

Tears are streaming down your face, but you hardly feel them as you pace towards the sight of a door. You don’t look back anymore, too afraid to see the gaping face of a void staring back at you, waiting to eat you alive— the hungry wolf and the weak lamb— just as Eddie had said.

The clearing of the front door is near, and your legs hardly feel real. You should’ve never come here. You should’ve never put on this outfit. You should’ve never gone out on your own and lost Eddie. You are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and you’re scared.

And just as you come within a few feet of the door, a hand grabs your arm, and you jolt, pushing away until that familiar voice rings in your ear— “Hey, it’s me. It’s just me, where are you—” 

You throw yourself into Eddie’s arms, tears falling in droves as you sob into his chest. Eddie’s embrace is like a nest— a warm, carefully crafted, and woven nest made to hold you and keep you safe. You should’ve never left his side.

His hand gently holds your head, soft coos seeping into your ear as he asks, “What’s wrong, bunny? What happened?”

You cry, body trembling in his hold as you try to piece your words together, “I-I couldn’t find you and somebody— that guy w-was following me,” you cry.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What guy?”

Your words come out in choked sobs, a shaky finger lifting past Eddie’s shoulder, “T-the guy in the mask!” You stress. 

Eddie turns, looking in the direction of your finger, confusion and something else etched across his face when he turns to you, “…There’s a lot of masked people here, bunny; you’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that.” He says.

You cry, disoriented and confused because the man is nowhere in sight. Eddie guides you outside with a gentle hand on your back, softly cooing as you sob. The air is cold and sharp against your barely covered skin, but you hardly feel it. 

You’d been spinning all night, around and around in a foggy cloud of discomfort, and the crash hurts more than the fall. But Eddie is here. He is here, and he’s holding you, and he’s wiping your tears, and asking you to breathe, “Tell me what happened, doll. Describe the guy.”

And through wracked sobs and shaky words, you describe what you saw: black cape, white mask, two big black eyes, and a gaping mouth. Hungry and ready to devour you. 

“Woah, what the fuck happened?” 

It’s Nancy; you know it’s Nancy despite your inability to see straight. She steps into frame, a gentle hand on your arm as she looks at your distraught face. Not far behind her stands Steve, a look of concern on his face.

“Some fuckin’ creep was following her,” Eddie mutters.

Your breaths come in shaky gasps, trembling hands coming up to wipe at your wet eyes. You try to speak, but your words hardly make sense, so Nancy softly coos and tells you to calm down.

Another flow of tears fall, and you only want to wrap yourself back in Eddie’s arms. 

“And where were you?” Steve snaps.

Eddie looks at Steve, expression unreadable when he replies, “She went to the restroom.”

“And you didn’t go with her?” Steve prods. 

Nancy consoles you, wiping your tears and telling you you’re okay as Steve and Eddie bicker over things you can hardly manage to wrap your head around. Finally, Nancy turns to them, “Would you two shut up? It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get her home; I think we’ve all had enough of tonight.” She snaps.

And even though you’re upset that Nancy has taken you from your source of comfort, you’re glad she leaves no room for debate. Nancy leads you down the steps of the house and you catch a glimpse of Eddie and think tomorrow you’ll have to apologize for ruining the night. For losing him and making a scene of your own mistake. 

As you fall asleep later, you can’t help the few tears that slip down your face and drop onto your pillow as you all but hope Eddie can forgive you.

Steve’s had a rough weekend. 

What started with a small disagreement with Nancy over his schedule with rugby has spiraled into Nancy completely ignoring him. On top of that, Steve is furious with Eddie’s mistake of not protecting you, and Eddie doesn’t seem to care. And as if that’s not enough, rugby finals are just around the corner, and Steve’s team is falling short to fucking play like they mean it.

Steve woke up with a headache, a sign that today would be just as rough as the night before, where Steve spent the better part of an hour with his father nagging him over the phone. Steve’s not sure what his father wants from him: a college degree or someone to run his company— either way, he won’t get both.

So, with a pounding head and a deep sigh, Steve got out of bed and began his game day rituals.

Morning run, shower, finish assignments, roll out that stubborn muscle in his thigh, and head down to the field.

Practice runs short, as it always does on game day. Steve doesn’t want to waste any energy his players can use on the field, so he lets them off the hook earlier with a warning to not do anything stupid. 

And usually, by the time the game is about to start, Steve is pumped and ready to win; he talks up a big game to his players and riles them up. But today, Steve is merely a silent brewing storm. He’s tense. There’s a chip on his shoulder, and he can’t fucking reach it, and he doesn’t even know where to begin to figure it out. 

Because the truth is, Steve loves Nancy. And he wants you. And he wants to be the perfect son. And he wants to win every game. He wants, he wants, he wants. But how much of it can he actually get?

Midway through the game, Steve’s team is down by enough to put him in a bad mood. His storm is pushing and pulling, churning in dark clouds on the sidelines as he watches his team play like shit. Steve isn’t even here, he thinks. He’s somewhere else. Somewhere between space and the busy thoughts in his head.

And as if the other team making another score isn’t enough, Steve suddenly hears your name tumbling from the lips of another teammate— “Did you see her on Friday? I had a feeling that innocent shit was all an act— she probably fucks like she gets paid for it.”

And Steve bites so hard into his tongue that he tastes metal. Warm and bitter, inking across his tongue like spilled milk.

He shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t. Not when Nancy is already on his back, asking about his whereabouts and throwing fits over nothing— because the guys talk. They’ll open their mouths for any pair of walking tits, and Steve can’t afford that. Not now. He doesn’t need it.

But then— “Wait— Harrington, isn’t your girlfriend roommates with her?”

Steve glances at the two boys, snickering like thieves, enjoying the taste of berating you on their tongues. Steve can hardly hold back the snarl on his face when he looks at them and replies, “No.” Stiff and quick.

Noel, the boy who’d made the comment about you, is now sitting right next to Steve and looking at him in confusion, “But they’re friends, right? I see them together all the time.” He points out. 

Steve can’t deny that because it’s true. You and Nancy hang out on campus often, so he curtly nods, “Yeah. They’re friends.”

Noel hums, spreading his thighs to take up space as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He looks at Steve and tilts his head as if he’s thinking, which Steve is sure he can’t even do, “So, can you confirm or deny that she’s more of a slut than she lets on.”

Steve looks at Noel, imagining his hands wrapped around his neck as his face twists in distaste, “She’s not a slut.”

Noel scoffs around a laugh, “Sure as hell dressed like one the other night.” he snickers, nudging his other snickering friend, Barry. They laugh as if it’s funny, making a snide comment about how your ass looked in your dress. Steve’s tongue is nearly bitten off. 

“That doesn’t make her a slut.” Steve snaps.

Noel and Barry glance at each other, and laugh in disbelief, “Relax, Harrington. No one’s gonna tell Nancy you cracked a joke about how hot her roommate is.” Barry teases.

Steve doesn’t say anything; just rolls his eyes and glares back at the game. But Noel is nothing if not a fucking test of patience. Steve never liked Noel, and honestly, if he weren’t a good stand-off player, Steve would’ve written him off long ago.

“Think you could put in a word for me, man?”

Steve doesn’t bother looking at Noel as he snaps, “No, dude. Fuck off.”

Noel nudges Steve as if pushing him closer to the line Steve has been dancing on all weekend, “Come on dude, quit being so uptight, it’s just pussy.”

Just pussy. 

Steve doesn’t know what snaps in him, but the second he hears it— just pussy— he hardly thinks twice before standing and curling his fists into Noel's jersey to throw him down off the bench.

“What the fuck—“

Steve steps over him, reaches down to grip the front of his jersey, and pulls him up, anger pumping through him in droves as he glares down at the boy and snaps, “Say one more thing about her.” 

Barry, Noel’s knight in shining armor, steps in and grips Steve’s shoulder, pulling him off his friend and shoving at his chest. He sizes Steve up, face twisted in annoyance as he seethes, “Dude— calm the fuck down.”

Steve shoves the boy off of him, “Fuck you.” He snaps. Steve steps up to him, “You wanna know a real slut, Barry? Ask your sister, I fucked her.” He spits. 

The words slip out easily like water, inky black with leeches to stick to skin and drain his veins— and it fucking works because not a second passes before a fist drives into Steve’s face, blood pooling in his mouth like an open dam. It rings loudly and echoing, with radio static in his ears. Steve can hardly hear his coach yelling, marching over to grab Steve off of Barry.

Steve doesn’t feel the pain in his hand, but he will once the adrenaline wears off, his knuckles tapped from the hard bone of Barry’s cheek. He doesn’t even remember punching him. 

The coach shoves Steve in the opposite direction of Barry, frustration in every vowel of his words as he spits out, “You’re out, Harrington!”

Steve doesn’t fucking care. He doesn’t care to be thrown out of the game, hell they were gonna lose anyway. He doesn’t care that he’s the captain and should be setting an example— Steve doesn’t care. He’s pissed off, and he can hardly think straight as he storms off the field. 

Steve’s storm is windy and brutal, the anger so hot in his throat that he can barely swallow. Steve will regret what he did later; he knows he will, but how could he sit there and let them talk about you like that and not do something? 

You, who is so kind and caring to assholes that don’t deserve a second of your attention. You, who has never made yourself a problem yet has been picked on since you’ve come to All Saints. You, who hardly knows right from wrong— because Steve is so, so, so wrong, and still you look at him with these soft, doe eyes that make Steve want to scream and cry simultaneously. You, who Steve thinks about as he falls asleep next to his girlfriend. 

How could anybody speak lowly of you?

You’re worth every bit of regret Steve will face, he thinks. No matter how clouded his judgment is.

There’s blood in his mouth, and dull aching in his jaw that will soon become a throbbing pain, and one would think Steve has had enough fights for the night, but that switch is suddenly flipped yet again when a voice comes from a few feet away— “Rough night, Harrington?”

The locker room is just steps away, and the noise of the losing game is now distant. Across the carpool lane stands Eddie, a cigarette burning between his fingers as the city light dances across his figure. He looks so stupid, standing there like a shadow, taunting Steve as if this is some sort of joke to him.

Steve gazes at Eddie, watching as he brings the cigarette up to his lips, talking around a cloud of smoke when he adds, “You look like shit.”

Shaky breaths, radio static, warm metal. City light, cigarette smoke, stupid fucking shadow.

Steve’s jaw aches when he clenches his teeth before speaking, “Are you following me?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to follow you?”

Annoying. So fucking annoying, that’s all Eddie has ever been. An annoying asshole with something smart to always say.

“Why would I want you to follow me?”

Eddie shrugs, a hand in his pocket, “Some people like that shit.” He says.

Steve stalks over, unbridled anger in each step as he draws closer to Eddie. He sneers as he glares at Eddie, “The fuck is your problem?” He snaps.

Eddie blinks, brown eyes gazing at Steve as he responds, “I don’t have a problem.”

“Then quit being so fucking weird.” Steve spats, face twisted in disgust. 

Eddie raises an uninterested eyebrow, “Wasn’t aware I was.” He coolly replies. 

Steve’s fingers curl into his palm, an angry fist against his side as he glares at the boy before him. Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s fist, lips ticking up in a small smile as his gaze flickers back to Steve’s.

Steve’s face grows hot in anger. He leans in, venom on his tongue when he spats at Eddie, “Fuck you.”

Eddie, like the asshole he is, gets a glint in his eye as he quickly whips back, “Thank you.” As if nothing ever bothers him. Steve sometimes wonders if Eddie knows how to bleed. Does he know how to respond to a punch? A kick? A bite? Steve’s not so sure that he does. 

Steve decides spending another second on Eddie would be a waste, so he turns on and walks away. He’s still hot with anger, still tasting blood in his mouth, still thinking about those assholes on the turf, still thinking about the asshole a few feet away from that knows how he tastes.

“And just so you know,” Steve whips around, storming up to Eddie again. Eddie’s gaze flickers back to Steve, tilting his head in interest. Steve feels a feeling he’s never felt before brewing in his chest— a deep anger that he’s never tasted and comes up sharp on his tongue.

“I’m not fucking gay.” Steve spits.

Eddie blinks and nods once, “Okay.” 

Steve looks at Eddie, the other boys sharp features glowing under the lamplight as he says, “So don’t do that shit again.” 

Eddie looks at Steve, stoic expression plastered across his face before he tilts his head, “Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He says, voice low and gravely.

Steve’s blood boils. His fists clench by his sides, and he ticks his jaw, pain rising from the punch he’d taken not too long ago, “Fuck you,” he says, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Eddie’s eyes have an annoying glint when he responds, “Seemed like you enjoyed it, Harrington.” He says beneath a subtle smirk. Steve steps forward, fists curling into the leather of Eddie’s jacket as he leans in and seethes, “You’re fucking disgusting. Try pulling that shit again, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill you.”

Eddie smirks, brown eyes dancing over Steve’s face, a halo of warm light around his curly hair. Eddie’s voice is like hot honey, “That a threat or a promise, captain?” 

“That’s a fucking promise.”

Brown pools of earth swirling like a whirlpool stare into Steve’s eyes. Smoke and cheap cologne, hairspray, leather. Steve’s anger is so loudly rushing through his veins he can hear it, flooding through his ears like a river. 

Steve is in the eye of the storm. The wind is still, the air is crisp, and the light overhead flickers.

Steve doesn’t know how it happens. He doesn’t know who invades whose space, but the taste of his blood mixes with the taste of cigarette smoke, dull with mint and spit. Eddie’s lips are warm and rough because Eddie needs some fucking chapstick, but Steve doesn’t complain. He can’t. Not when Eddie’s dipping his tongue into his mouth and tasting his blood, humming like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. 

Steve’s knuckles are tight in Eddie’s jacket, short nails carving into the leather. Eddie’s tongue is like a curious snake, running over Steve’s tongue, dipping through the valleys and ridges of his teeth, licking over his palate. Eddie’s tongue slinks back into his own mouth, his lips curving against Steve’s lips as his cold fingers brush against Steve’s hips— and suddenly, the winds are picking up, and Steve shoves at the curly-haired boy, stepping away with a heaving chest as he glares at the boy.

Eddie’s lips are tainted a faint red, brown eyes bright yet gloomy as they gaze at Steve. Steve grimaces as he wipes his mouth, spitting out blood onto the concrete as if Eddie’s spit is the worst thing he’s ever tasted. 

Eddie smiles, looks at Steve like he can see right through him, and Steve fucking hates it. Steve turns, body thrumming in some sort of sick and twisted adrenaline, eyes cast ahead of him as he marches toward the door of the locker room.

“By the way, Steve,” Eddie calls out behind him, “It was me.”

Fuck him. Fuck him and fuck everything that he says and does— Steve hates that every word Eddie says leaves him questioning, hanging, wanting more. Steve turns and glares at Eddie, vitriol in his voice as he spits out, “The fuck are you talking about?”

Eddie’s lips tip in a smile, boot-clad feet clicking against the cement as he stalks over to Steve, “The guy following her. It was me.” He shrugs.

Steve looks at Eddie, dancing over his face, looking for a crack in his expression— he finds none. Steve feels… he feels stupid. Stupid for being blind to the little game Eddie is so easily playing, puppeteering you and him with an expertise that makes Steve wonder— how many times has he done this? How many people?

Steve spent the whole weekend churning in anger, only to be told it was Eddie the entire time. He feels naive and dumb.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eddie snickers with a shrug, stopping in front of Steve, “Made it more entertaining.”

Steve swears he feels Eddie’s lips on his, and if it weren’t for the sight of them splitting into a shit-eating grin, he’d believe they were still pressed against that lamppost, swapping spit and blood.

“Fuck you.” Steve spits.

Eddie’s smile smears in Steve’s vision as he turns his back to him and walks toward the building, heart racing in his chest and bile churning in his stomach.

Eddie’s voice rings in his ears as Steve opens the locker room door, “Goodnight, Harrington.”

Steve hardly sleeps that night.

part four.

freaky lil cutie taglist: @gnrquinn @otterpop13 @sirensleepingsoundly @hugdealer @poppyseed018 @your-nightmaredoll @daysinthephoenix @chaiflvrd @daisy-munson @amira0303 @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @peaches-roses-sins @ohmeg

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@ratsematary @qtheressurections

a/n: HI HI HIIII !!! first of all, i am so incredibly sorry for how delayed this chapter was, i truly hope you guys even remember this story *cries*, either way, thank you for being so patient <33 this chappy was all about stevie battling his demons (bisexuality) soooo, not much established, but we're getting to the action very soon I promise!!

if you made it this far, thank u so much for reading, any and all feedback is appreciated and loved <3 I hope you all have a wonderful 2025 and stay safe; and as always, thank u and i love you always!!

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

chapter 4: guilty as sin?

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 4.6k words (chapter 4) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist here

Joel knows he doesn’t have a soul left inside his body, that he should be feeling distraught over the damn deer just like you are, but he doesn’t really give it much thought. His mind is occupied with how your tits looked this morning and he knows he’s going to hell for it. 

He’s been stiff since the second he saw you, and it took every ounce of self-control in his body not to take you right then and there. But he didn’t, maybe because there’s still humanity left in him after all,  but damn did he want to fuck you. Badly.

These thoughts whirl around in his mind as he paces around in the middle of the woods. He’s been alone for so long, the last time he even had a good fuck–before he had you–was probably half a year ago. Once he had a taste of you… fuck–he needs to have more. 

Doubt and uncertainty cloud above him whenever he thinks about his self-restraint capabilities. He’s a man, you’re an attractive young woman–so much so that his instincts are becoming fucking hard to ignore. He’d already slipped up once, pumped an entire six month’s worth of his seed into you. He isn’t a good man and he knows that, he’s done a lot of things that aren’t right, but he could sure as hell blame the alcohol for that last bit. 

Tommy would surely be disgusted with what he’d done, sleeping with someone half his age. His brother was never able to look at him the same after the hunts. Joel can’t imagine Tommy would even be able to look at him at all for this. Not that he’ll probably ever see his brother again…

Tommy always had remnants of the man he was before and it showed. Joel didn’t have anything left, and even so, back before things went to shit, he wasn’t excatly a stand-up guy. He was young when he had Sarah, had to raise her all on his own so he did what he needed to. Stole–not cars but other things–and he lied a lot. Cheated his way through life just to make sure his kid had food on the table and a roof over her head. 

Eventually, his contractor business became more stable so he didn’t have to resort to being an asshole, but he did do other things he knew weren't considered by the general public as polite behavior. He had women to keep him company whenever Sarah was at school or sound asleep. He’d sneak out and get laid by some chick in cowgirl boots and a miniskirt that he picked up at the bar--and then he wouldn’t call them back. The next night, rinse and repeat. He’d done it so many times that he'd lost count of his score. 

That was another time, but the truth is, Joel still isn’t a great guy. If anything, he’s even worse now.

Yet, he still knew up from down and right from wrong, even if he didn’t choose right, he did feel like he took advantage of you, a vulnerable little thing. Needy. You’d probably do anything for any guy that took care of you like he does given the circumstances. Compared to Joel, most of your life you’ve been pretty sheltered and he could tell. Never had to kill anything when you lived in the QZ, only lasted two days outside of it by yourself, and ever since then you’ve had him to do everything for you.

You’re in the tent, sleeping like a little lamb and he’s a big bad wolf on the verge of losing his fucking mind, his dark eyes boring into the zipper of the tent. He remembers the soft cushion of your breasts against his arms, the way you felt up against his chest while he showed you how to hold the gun, how your moans sounded when he was driving his cock into your wet folds.

Joel wants you. Now.

A sinful smile curls at his lips when he thinks about how his spend dripped out of you that night, his mind wanders further into the lustful abyss, fantasizing about your belly growing swollen with his baby. 

He’s practically in a lustful trance right now, wanting to fuck you, fill you, make you his. 

Joel finds himself deep in the woods now, close enough to hear you call if you need him, but far enough away for him to have privacy. The bark of a chestnut oak tree is digging scaly patterns into his left palm. His belt is loose, the buckle is swinging around his thigh, jeans sagging around his crotch as he bucks his cock in his hand, furiously stroking it with the slick from his spit. 

It’s like he’s a damn twenty-something again, imagining you in that sexy pink bra of yours– and with a thong to match. He’d unhook your bra with ease, just as he’s done a million times, and then he’d watch in awe as your perfect tits were on display for him, groaning as he sucks on your perky peaks. Fuck your breasts were so full lately, maybe it was his carnivorous mind playing tricks on him, but he felt like they were just begging for his attention.

He’d press you up against the tree, spread your legs, and hook one of them around his waist. 

Then he’d slide your panties to the side to make room for himself, not bothering to take them off. Your pink pussy would be dripping, all wet and ready for him and he’d slip out a curse or two at the delicious view of your cunt.

The big head of his cock would line up at your entrance and then he’d press in, one inch at a time, slow and steady in his movements like he was holding his rifle and waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger. The feel of your walls constricting around his head would knock the breathe out of his lungs, again, and he’d bottom out with a loud groan. His rhythm would start off paced, giving you some time to adjust to his size, and then he’d pound into your little pussy, balls kissing your folds and his tongue tangled with yours.

Joel liked the way you tasted, fresh like summer rain with a hint of honey. You tasted so sweet. 

Needy girl, fuckin’ soaked on my cock. You like that? You like that, baby? Yeaaah, you like that. Lemme hear you’re pretty little moans–tell daddy how much you like it.

You’re moans were the sweetest sound, a song he was hearing for the first time at just the right pitch–the perfect cadence for him to come. Joel, Joel, Joel! Harder, please, please, more, ahhhhnn, Daddy!A mess of his spend decorates the dirt at his feet and the guilt seeps in as he looks at what he’s just done–and what he thought about did get it done. Yeah, he’s disgusting and he knows it but the pietist in him died at seventeen when he told his ma he wasn’t going to church anymore and just about kicked him out of the house. 

This isn’t the first time he’s jerked off to the thought of you in the last month–and it sure as hell won’t be the last. It’s the only thing keeping him from actually laying his hands on you. He’s replayed this same scene and–many others–in his head that he’s starting to run out of ideas.

He’s chased his own release at the thought of himself buried deep inside of you, over and over again. But it was never enough–he was hungry. And it was becoming impossible for him to feel satiated by his hand alone.

Back at camp, the venison is still cooking over the spit, the meaty smell permeating the air, surely making both of your mouths water. Joel’s eyes land on you, rummaging through your bag, frantically digging through each pocket like something was missing.

“Hey. You’re awake.” His low, grumbling tone sounds grumpier than he means for it to be. He’s still getting used to having someone around. At having a woman around to soften his nature instead of one of his old raider buddies he’d boss around or tell them to go to hell whenever they wouldn’t shut their yappers. “How are ya feelin’, darlin’?”

“Better. Just a little hungry now. How long til the meat is done?”

“That ain’t gonna be done cookin’ until dinner, darlin’. Help yourself to whatever you can find in there.” Joel points to the crate he built that’s packed with foraged goods and the spoils of your scavenger hunts in town. He drags his gaze back down to your hands, fingers digging into the muddy fabric. “Som’ wrong?”

“No.” Your lips pucker up whenever you’re cross with him, and he knows you’re up to something but he can’t help but fight back a smile at how pretty you look when you’re about to get sassy.

“Ya holdin’ on to that thing so tight, your nails are about to pierce through the damn denim.”

“Did you take anything out of my bag?” Your eyes snap to his.

Joel laughs through his nose in disbelief, and then he licks the back of his teeth and says, “And why would I take anythin’ out of your bag?”

“I dunno, maybe cuz I was sleepin’ and you thought it’d be funny?”

“No, I did not take anythin’ outta your bag while you were sleepin’. You’re welcome for carryin’ you back.” His voice is dry and even, not bothering to hide his lack of amusement.

“Ughhh… Sorry Joel. I’m just missing something important and I’m still a little out of it after fainting earlier.”

He adds a few sticks to the burning fire, eyes watching the meat cook. “You should drink some’n, stay hydrated. I uh-brought some fresh water from the creek. Just need to let it boil.”

“Thanks.”

“So what was it?” Joel says after you crack open a box of frosted mini wheats, a cloud of sugar and cereal bits explode when tear open the ancient plastic wrap.

“What was what?”

“The thing you dropped.”

“Oh.” You swallow down the dry miniwheat with a big gulp. “It was just stupid stuff–a pad.”

Joel narrows his eyes at you. “You just about ripped my head off over a damn pad?”

“They’re rare ya know?”

“Well let’s go back out and find it then.”

“No, no, no. It’s gonna be all dirty. There might be bugs on it and all that, I can’t use it now.”

Joel rubs his beard in thought, watching the fire dance in your big, beautiful eyes. Normal your face is so expressive, lit up with a sort of eagerness to live. But not lately. Something was different. It was subtle, but he’s taken notice of how your light has dimmed, how your once frequent chatter has been replaced with an eerie quietness. Joel starts to wonder what he’s done to make you upset. Making you accuse him of stupid shit he ain’t even done. He’d start to remedy the situation by acknowledging the events of today and apologize for the stupid shit he did that made you puke your brains out.

“I threw ya to the wolves ‘n I shouldn’ve done it. Just thought–I thought maybe you’d learn quicker that way.” He clicks his tongue, reflecting back on the horrors from earlier. “Next time we’ll start off with trappin’, start nice ‘n slow, then work our way up.”

“It’s all my fault that she suffered like that, isn’t it?” There’s a dazed, far-off look in your eyes as you gaze into the fire.

Joel is quiet in thought, not sure what to say to bring you comfort. He wasn’t built for that. Comforting people, that is. Not with words. All he knew how to do was protect… and kill. So he says the only thing he can think of to put you at ease. “The world is crueler now than it’s ever been ‘n ya can’t let it get to ya.”

There’s so much you haven’t had to experience yet, it makes you somehow innocent, almost untainted by the horrors of the world. He loves that about you, wants to protect your delicateness as much as he can for as long as he can. Shield you from anything that dares to corrupt your sweet soul–which is why he has to keep the dark side of himself a secret from you. The things he’s done, the people he’s killed, the torture he’s inflicted on countless individuals is something he knew you’d find downright disgusting.

Yeah, you knew he was a hunter, but he never filled you in on the gritty details of what that entailed. How he was so much worse than those hunters that left you for dead. Didn’t tell you that his brother abandoned him because he was a monster. If you found out, you might be scared of him, run away from him even. And he can’t have that. You're safe with him at your side and so this little secret of his is just to protect you, that’s all. You don’t need to know about his past or what he’s capable of.

Joel knows what’s best for you.

“It’s gettin’ cold now ‘n we need somewhere warm to stay soon.” Joel begins, cutting through the deer's breast with his knife. “Was thinkin’ we could head back to that cabin you liked so much.”

“Nah,” you say with that same distant look in your gaze and he had absolutely no fucking idea what was going on in your head. 

“Alright then. We could find another farmhouse, somethin’ more secluded than the ones we’ve been passin’. Think we might be able to find som’ nearby, near the creek ‘n the town.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you’re practically in a trance and Joel’s not even sure you’re actually listening, but he keeps talking to fill the silence–something you normally do.

“I’ve got a hoodie you can wear, it’ll be a little big on ya but it should do the trick ‘til we find ya som’n else.” He’s scrambling for words at this point. It isn’t in his nature to be the one driving the conversation, 

“Mmkay.”

Joel rests his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together. “‘S everythin’ alright, sweetheart? You’ve been quiet.” 

Eyes lidded, you look up at him. “Still feeling tired is all.”

“Get som’ore sleep. We can head into town in the mornin’ and get whatever you need. Maybe there’ll be pickled goods in one of the markets. Oughta be good for your stomach.” Joel is attentive to the fact that you have a sensitive stomach. First, it was the tuna, then you had a few instances where your nose would scrunch up in disgust if he tried to get ya to eat, and then the vomiting earlier today, all telltale signs that you were a delicate little thing.

He’s convinced that pickled goods will solve this little stomach issue of yours.

***

His hoodie looks good on you. He likes the way it’s too big for you, but despite that, he can still see the outline of your curves. After an hour of walking on an incline up into the town, you shed your layers to keep the heat at bay and Joel does everything he can to keep his eyes off your plump tits, barely held in place by your bra and spaghetti strap tank top. Were they always that plump?

He licks his lips and shakes the thought away. Getting a hard-on would be troublesome to hide from you, especially since the jeans he’s wearing today are a little tight.

Joel realizes that he isn’t interested in just sex with you, like all of the others he’d laid with. There’s something about you that he’s drawn to. Something that lights a flame in the dark chambers of his heart and gives him a purpose, a reason to live. Your enthusiasm and excitement for the world make him feel alive again, and it’s exactly why he’s so adamant about making sure he finds a way to knock out as much of your bucket list as he can.

These feelings that are developing toward you also explain why he feels an ache beneath his ribs when he sees how unwell you’ve been. Whether it’s the sickness you have or something else, he doesn’t know for sure, just knows it’s been dimming that beautiful light in your eyes and he’d give anything to make them shine again.

Up ahead, there’s a crusty sign that says Welcome to Taylor. You dip into the first convenience store that comes into view. Joel’s hand is on the small of your back as he ushers you in, carefully closing the door once both of you are inside.

Joel’s made it a habit to look for Twizzlers at every stop. “Sorry, darlin’. Looks like they’re all outta stock today.”

“It’s okay. I was actually in the mood for chocolate. See any around?”

“Chocolate huh? Never heard ya say that before. It’s usually all Twizzlers, gummies, and bright-colored candies that do it for ya.”

“Yeah, well I’m just in the mood for chocolate today.” You close the distance between you, hands resting on your hips, neck cranked up to look him in the eye. “That alright with you, cowboy?”  

There’s a cocky smirk on Joel’s face as he looks down at you, a little thing with a big sassy attitude and he’s glad to see that it hasn’t changed. He notices the rosy pink color of your lips and the thin layer of shine on your cupid’s bow that he can’t take his eyes off of. “You can do whatever you want, angel. I ain’t stoppin’ you.”

“Good. Let’s get moving then,” you say nonchalantly, heading for the door. Joel had already grabbed the last two jars of pickles and an old box of saltines that were hidden in the back of an old shelf. “There’s nothing else here that’s worth our time.”

“Ain’t true. There’s these,’ Joel argues, holding up a couple of composition notebooks and ink pens with what’s probably their last drops left to spare.

“What do we need with old notebooks and pens?”

“There’s an old community college down the main road,” Joel begins, awkwardly fumbling to finish the sentence as if completing it would admit something about what he feels toward you. “So you can go to school.” 

You stop in your tracks. “Last time I ‘went to school’ I puked.” 

“We’re gonna take it down a notch or two. I’ll show ya what school was really like back in the day.” 

Maybe it’ll put a smile on your face. Make you forget about all this shit.

Joel smiles when he sees how your face brightens up at the sight of the old college, bricks still red and distinct, nature not claiming it just yet. You both do a sweep through the main building, careful not to make noise and alert anyone or anything nearby, but the coast is clear. 

“First class of the day: Film Studies,” Joel says, unstrapping his gun and kicking his feet up on a dusty wooden desk, hands tucked behind his salt and pepper curls. “First thing you oughta know is George Lucas made the greatest films of all time: Star Wars. Completely transformed the film industry as we knew it. Nobody had dared to even dream of making some’n like this series before. Spaceships, blaster guns, entire fuckin’ planets we ain’t even seen before, right there on the big screen.”

“So it was about aliens?”

“Yeah, som’ like that. ‘S bout a galaxy far away, and all the inhabitants in it. Humanoids, Wookies, Droids, and Jedi Knights. The first movie came out in 1977, Star Wars: A New Hope, and tells the story of Princess Leia, her brother Luke who’s a Jedi, and Han Solo, a badass motherfucker–pilot of the Millennium Falcon. They’re tryin’ to save the galaxy from the big evil Empire.”

“Kinda like how we’re trying to save the world from the big evil Clickers?”

“Yeah… som’ like that… Except this is more fun cuz the good guys always win.” Joel tucks his legs under the desk and straightens his spine. “You takin’ notes?”

“Yes Mr. Miller, I am taking notes on your class about Star Wars.”

“Good, cuz I’m gonna give ya a test on this later to make sure you were listenin’.” 

“I’m listenin’ just fine,” you say, resting your cheek on your fist and biting the butt of the pen.

The rusted metal legs of the chair screech against the tile as Joel stands up, pacing the classroom now as he dives further into his lesson. Joel wasn’t a film junkie back in the day, if anything he was just an average guy that went to the movies now and again, but he had his favorites of course. He tells you everything he knows about cinema, mostly raving about what his favorite movies and shows were, but he shares as much as he can remember about film history, including some of the classic film directors like Alfred Hitchcock and Blake Edwards. 

His knowledge was limited, but he knew that what he had to share was more than enough to paint the picture for you. The light was back in your eyes and it warmed Joel’s soul.

“I like when you tell me about the stuff you liked back then. Wish you’d always tell me more about yourself like this,” you say, nibbling at your pen and looking up at him through thick lashes.

“Mmm,” Joel hums, and that’s about all he manages to say as his gaze is fixated on the window to your left. He looks back over at you. “Think maybe we should start heading back. ‘S already gettin’ dark.”

A gunshot rings in the distance and both of you snap your attention to the window. “There’s people here. What do we do?”

“Lay low. We’ll go out the back and find a quiet place nearby to stay for the night.” Joel’s voice is low but commanding as he straps his rifle back into place and waves you to follow him. “Come’on.”

***

The quietness after the gunshot feels eerie and unsettling. There’s an odd sense of safety in being alone nowadays, so the fact that someone is nearby means danger lurks. Joel scans the street for signs of life, his brain racing, gears turning as he tries to determine which house would be the safest, the one least likely to be broken into with the most convenient exits if the worst case scenario did happen and you both had to make a run for it in the middle of the night.

Not that running was really his style. If anyone came in at night, if anyone hurt you, he’d put a bullet to their head without remorse. He’d shatter their skull until they were utterly unrecognizable by their face alone, and he’d leave the rest of them untouched as a warning to any of their friends that if they fuck with Joel, they die.

“This one,” he points to a yellow house with white shutters. The front door is covered with debris and vegetation, but there are two adequate back exits on the east side of the house by the kitchen and on the south-facing side that leads to the once was garden.

Male voices in the distance keep both of you on your toes. Joel thinks they’re at least a block down the road and tells you he doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about just yet.

“What happens if they find us?” Your voice is riddled with fear.

“They ain’t gonna find us,” Joel says confidently. “No one saw us, no one heard us, ain’t no one lookin’ for us.”

“But what if they do?”  

He sighs, rubbing his beard in thought. “I’ll fuckin’ kill them.”

“What if they kill you first?” Your brows knit inward with desperation.

“That ain’t how I operate, sweetheart.”

“But what if?!” Your chest is heaving now, your eyes are wide, hands trembling as you reach to hold onto Joel’s shoulders. “I-I can’t fight Joel–can barely shoot a gun, you know that. How are we gonna take ‘em? What do I do if somethin’ happens to you?”

Joel squeezes your shoulders, pulling you an inch or two closer to him, eyes serious, brows furrowed as his eyes bore into you. “If anythin’ happens to me, you run. You got that? You run and you don’t look back.”

“No, I can’t leave you behind–I need a gun–I need–I need you. You don’t understand. I can’t make it without you–”

Joel hisses your name, teeth bared in a snarl. “No! If I’m down, you run. Understand?”

You nod your head rapidly in obedience. Joel can feel your little heart pounding away, and he thoughtlessly lets his thumb glide across the smooth surface of your skin, just above your heart before releasing his tight grip on you. 

“Upstairs,” Joel commands, and you follow. The first step creaks under Joel’s boot and he turns to you, a finger to his lips. 

Joel checks all the rooms, dusty, littered with crap, but good enough for the night. There’s one last bedroom to check before the two of you can safely stay there. Joel doesn’t like it when you go off on your own, and when he sees you twist the knob on the last door before he’s even finished his sweep through of the third bedroom, it takes every ounce of strength in him not to yell. 

The knob twists with a little squeak and then the little white door with peeling mint green paint swings open with a creak. You gasp, mouth agape at whatever lies beyond the doorframe, out of Joel’s view. 

“What?! What is it?!” He rushes to your side to see and before you can even answer the question, he answers it for himself.

Inside, the main wall is painted with a faded yet still colorful rainbow with a bouquet of balloons on each end. The ceiling is decorated with paintings of smiling clouds, and at the center hangs a lampshade shaped like a sun with golden strings holding little rainbow and star ornaments. They sway gently from your touch, making a melodic tinkling sound as they stir. 

Below the lamp sits a beautiful wooden crib ornately carved with hummingbirds and little flowers. The entire scene feels like something you’d read about in a book, a world where people lived vibrant, happy lives and painted childlike illustrations on their walls. It was as if someone captured happiness and sunshine and trapped it in this room so that all who walked in would feel a rush of joy, love, and warmth.

“A nursery,” you say in a gentle whisper, fingertips brushing over the little hummingbirds

Voices stir in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Joel’s calloused palm clasps around your delicate wrist. “Baby, ‘m gonna need you to hide.”

You ignore him, continuing to look fondly at the crib.

“Are you listenin’ to me?” He tugs at your arm.

You turn to him, eyes glistening with tears. “Joel. There’s something I gotta tell you.”

He swallows, voice hushed. “Can it wait?” 

You shake your head and tears cascade down your cheeks like a river that’s just burst through a busted dam. Joel’s chest feels tight and his stomach is doing flips at the sight of you crying and he has not a single clue how to stop it, he just knows that there are men out there who could hurt you and he doesn’t have time for this. Your lips part, a shaky breath of wind escaping from your lungs before you compose yourself and finally say what you’ve been keeping to yourself for some time now. The secret you’ve been keeping frozen and locked away from him is now thawing, melting away the once-hidden layers of secrecy, and Joel was on the edge of his seat to finally find out what has been making you act so strange.

“I’m pregnant.”

~~~ au: Today is my birthday so I wanted to treat everyone and upload a few chapters here today! Enjoy <3 masterlist here

[elryuse]

YN is a struggling student, focusing on being a student and a having a job to sustain his daily necessities.

One night his classmates asked if he wanted to go to the club with them, he agreed and brought his girlfriend with him.

As soon as they arrived YN caught the eye of a girl from the VIP section, the girl called one of her bodyguards and instructed the guard to come to YN's table and invite him over, but YN disagreed. As soon as the girl heard that he disagreed she told the guard to invite both YN and his girlfriend to the VIP table.

YN reluctantly agreed because his girlfriend kept pushing him to agree, once they arrived at the VIP table the girl introduced herself saying her name was Giselle. Giselle offered them free drinks and they accepted it.

As the night goes on Giselle suddenly made an offer to the couple, "I'll give you $50,000 if you let me spend the night with YN".

YN immediately declined but his girlfriend said to think it through saying that they both need the money, After a while YN reluctantly agreed.

After that Giselle took YN to her penthouse and spent the night having some fun. But the next day Giselle couldn't have enough of him and decided to just buy YN off his girlfriend.

Making Your Boyfriend Mine.

GISELLE X MALE READER

Tags : Cheating, Reverse NTR, Cowgirl, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Lots of Kissing, Seductive, Dangerous Romance

3,7k Words

The bass pulsed through the club, vibrating in YN’s chest as he sipped his watered-down drink. His girlfriend, Mia, swayed beside him, her laughter blending with the music. She looked stunning tonight—her dress clinging to her curves, her hair catching the strobe lights in a way that made it shimmer like liquid gold. But YN couldn’t shake the weight of exhaustion pressing on him. Between classes and his part-time job at the diner, he was running on fumes. He only agreed to come tonight because Mia had begged him, saying they needed to "live a little."

Across the room, he caught her gaze—a woman in the VIP section, surrounded by bodyguards and bathed in an aura of power. She was unlike anyone he’d ever seen. Her dark eyes locked onto his, unblinking, like a predator sizing up its prey. He felt naked under her stare, even from across the crowded floor.

She’s looking right at me, he thought, quickly averting his eyes. But it was too late. A burly man in a black suit was already making his way toward their table.

YN’s heart skipped a beat. The man leaned down, his voice low but commanding. "Miss Giselle would like you to join her at her table."

YN froze. "Who?" he asked, though he already knew who she was. The woman in the VIP section hadn’t stopped watching him.

"Giselle," the man repeated, nodding toward the booth. "She’s… insistent."

"No thanks," YN said firmly, gripping Mia’s hand under the table. "We’re good here."

But Mia’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Are you serious? That’s Giselle? The Giselle? She owns half the city!" She turned to the bodyguard, practically bouncing in her seat. "Tell her we’ll be right over."

"Mia—" YN started, but she cut him off.

"Oh, come on! It’s not every day someone like her invites us to sit with her. We can’t say no!"

Before he could protest further, they were being ushered to the VIP section. Giselle sat at the center of the booth, her legs crossed elegantly, a glass of champagne in her hand. Up close, she was even more striking—her sharp cheekbones, her full lips painted a deep red, her presence commanding the space around her like a queen holding court.

"Welcome," she purred, gesturing for them to sit. "I’m Giselle. And you are…?"

"YN," he said stiffly, sliding into the booth. "And this is my girlfriend, Mia."

Giselle’s lips curved into a slow smile. "Charming," she said, her gaze lingering on YN a moment too long before shifting to Mia. "You’re a lucky woman."

Mia giggled nervously, clearly starstruck. "Thank you. This is… wow. I mean, I’ve heard so much about you."

"All good things, I hope," Giselle said with a laugh, signaling for the waiter to bring them drinks. "Please, relax. Enjoy yourselves."

YN tried to keep his guard up, but the free drinks kept coming, and the conversation flowed surprisingly easily. Giselle was witty, charming, and disarmingly direct. She asked about their lives, their dreams, their struggles. By the time the third round of drinks arrived, YN found himself actually enjoying the conversation.

But then Giselle leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "Listen," she began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I’ll cut to the chase. I want to make you an offer. A very… generous one."

YN frowned, sensing where this was going. "What kind of offer?"

Her eyes flicked to Mia, then back to him. "Fifty thousand dollars. Tonight. All I ask in return is… you."

YN’s jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

Mia choked on her drink, her wide eyes darting between them. "Wait, what do you mean ‘you’?"

Giselle smiled, unfazed. "I want YN to spend the night with me. Just one night. Fifty thousand dollars. No strings attached. Think of it as… a business transaction."

YN shook his head immediately. "No. Absolutely not."

But Mia hesitated. "Wait, just… hang on. That’s a lot of money. We could pay off your student loans, get a better apartment…"

"Mia," YN said sharply, his stomach knotting with disbelief. "You can’t seriously be considering this."

"I’m just saying, we should think about it," she insisted, her voice pleading. "It’s one night. And it’s fifty thousand dollars. Do you know how much that could change our lives?"

YN stared at her, his mind racing. Is she really asking me to do this? To cheat on her? But the desperation in her eyes was unmistakable. They’d been struggling for so long—working themselves to the bone just to scrape by. Could he really say no to something that could fix everything?

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Fine. One night."

Giselle’s smile widened, triumph flashing in her eyes. "Perfect. Shall we get out of here?"

The penthouse was opulent beyond anything YN could have imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like stars. But he barely noticed any of it. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt, anxiety, and a strange, unwanted excitement.

Giselle stepped closer, her fingers brushing against his jaw. "Relax," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "You’re not going to regret this."

He swallowed hard, his body tense. "This doesn’t feel right."

"Doesn’t it?" she teased, her lips grazing his ear. "Or does it feel… inevitable?"

Her touch was electric, sending shivers down his spine. She pressed herself against him, her body molding to his with a practiced ease. Before he could protest again, her lips were on his, soft and demanding, stealing his breath away.

God, she knows what she’s doing, he thought, his resolve crumbling under her skillful hands. She guided him to the bed, her movements deliberate, unhurried. She straddled him, her dress sliding off her shoulders to reveal flawless skin.

"Let go," she whispered, her voice a command. "Just let me take care of you."

And he did. He let her push him down, let her hands roam his body, let her mouth trail kisses down his chest. She took control, moving with a confidence that left him powerless to resist. When she finally sank onto him, her warmth enveloping him completely, he couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped his lips.

She rode him slowly at first, her hips rolling in a rhythm that drove him wild. Then she shifted, flipping onto her knees in reverse cowgirl, showing off her perfect form. The sight alone was enough to make him ache.

"You’re mine tonight," she purred, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked grin. "Every inch of you."

YN gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as she picked up the pace. His mind was a blur of pleasure and guilt, the lines between right and wrong blurring with every thrust. She was relentless, bringing him to the edge only to pull back, teasing him until he was desperate for release.

"Beg for it," she demanded, her voice husky with desire.

He didn’t hesitate. "Please," he groaned, his voice ragged. "Please, Giselle, I need you."

She laughed softly, a sound that sent another wave of heat through him. "Good boy," she said, finally letting him tip over the edge.

The next morning, YN woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and Giselle perched on the edge of the bed, already dressed and composed.

"Morning," she said, handing him a cup of coffee. "Sleep well?"

He rubbed his face, the events of the night rushing back. "Uh… yeah. I guess."

She smirked, clearly amused by his discomfort. "Good. Because I want to talk to you about something."

He tensed, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

"Last night was… incredible," she admitted, her tone casual. "But I don’t think one night was enough. So I have a new offer for you."

YN’s stomach twisted. "What kind of offer?"

She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with determination. "I’ll buy you from Mia. Permanently."

YN’s breath hitched as Giselle’s words hung in the air. “Buy me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her proposal pressed against his chest, making it hard to think straight.

Giselle smirked, her confidence unwavering. She leaned back on the plush sofa, crossing her legs with an elegant grace that somehow made him feel even smaller. “Yes, buy you,” she confirmed, her tone cool and collected. “I’m not one to settle for temporary arrangements. I want you. All of you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Giselle stood up, closing the distance between them in a few effortless strides. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, sending a shiver down his spine. “You’re special, YN,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “Last night proved that. And I don’t plan on letting someone like you slip away so easily.”

Her touch was intoxicating, but guilt gnawed at him. He pulled away slightly, his mind racing. “I… I need to talk to Mia first,” he stammered, his voice trembling.

Giselle’s expression darkened, but only for a moment. She smiled knowingly, stepping back. “Of course,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Take your time. But remember, I don’t wait forever.”

YN left her penthouse feeling like he was walking through a fog. His thoughts were a jumbled mess as he made his way back to his and Mia’s tiny apartment. When he stepped inside, Mia was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes narrowed as soon as she saw him.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, her tone sharp.

YN hesitated, his stomach twisting into knots. “We need to talk,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Mia’s expression softened slightly, but suspicion lingered in her eyes. “Talk about what?” she asked, her voice cautious.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “Giselle… she made another offer. She wants to buy me. Permanently.”

Mia’s eyes widened in shock, but then a strange look crossed her face—something akin to consideration. “And? What did you say?” she asked, her voice surprisingly calm.

YN frowned, confused by her reaction. “I didn’t say anything yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Mia, this is crazy. We can’t just—”

“Why not?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “She’s offering us $50,000, YN! Do you know how much that would help us? We could pay off our debts, finally get out of this dump—”

“So you’re okay with selling me off like some kind of property?” he shot back, his voice filled with disbelief.

Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like that, YN. This is just… practical. We both need the money. And it’s not like you’d hate it. You seemed pretty into her last night.”

Her words cut deeper than he expected. “That’s not the point,” he protested, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to cheat on you, Mia. I only agreed because you pushed me to!”

Mia’s expression hardened. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, YN. I saw the way you looked at her.”

YN felt like the walls were closing in around him. “This isn’t fair,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mia crossed her arms over her chest, her resolve unshakable. “Life isn’t fair, YN. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. And if this is what it takes for us to get ahead, then so be it.”

His heart shattered at her words. He had always thought Mia loved him, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Fine,” he said bitterly, his voice cold. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll go. But don’t expect me to come back.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out the door, leaving Mia staring after him in stunned silence.

The streets blurred as YN walked aimlessly, his mind numb. He didn’t know where else to go, so eventually, he found himself standing outside Giselle’s penthouse again. Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked on the door.

Giselle opened it almost immediately, as if she had been expecting him. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, but then they softened as she took in his disheveled appearance.

“You look terrible,” she said gently, stepping aside to let him in.

YN didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He just walked past her, his shoulders slumped.

Giselle closed the door behind him, her expression thoughtful. “Did you talk to Mia?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

He nodded, still unable to speak. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

Giselle approached him slowly, her movements deliberate. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice sincere. “But you made the right choice.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that he hadn’t chosen anything, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, too exhausted to fight anymore.

Giselle smiled softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Let me take care of you,” she whispered, her tone soothing. “You don’t have to think about anything else. Just be here, with me.”

Her words were like a balm to his wounded soul, and despite himself, he felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a gentle kiss. It was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the passion of the previous night.

But then, something shifted. Giselle deepened the kiss, her hands moving to grip his waist. YN’s body responded instinctively, his own hands tangling in her hair as their kisses grew more fervent.

She pulled back slightly, her breathing heavy. “I want you to forget about her,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Forget about everything except for me.”

YN’s heart raced as Giselle led him to the bedroom, her touch igniting a fire within him. She pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a predatory grace that made his breath catch.

Her hands roamed over his body, removing his clothes with practiced ease. She leaned down, her lips trailing along his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “You’re mine now, YN,” she whispered against his skin, her voice possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never regret it.”

He gasped as she positioned herself above him, her heat pressing against his length. She lowered herself onto him slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully buried inside her.

Giselle moaned softly, her head falling back as she began to move, rocking her hips in a rhythm that drove him wild. Her nails dug into his chest, marking him as hers. “Feel good?” she purred, her voice teasing.

YN could only nod, his breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coursed through him. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements, wanting—needing—to feel more.

She leaned forward, her lips capturing his in a searing kiss as she increased her pace. Her breasts pressed against his chest, driving him closer to the edge. “Cum for me, YN,” she commanded, her voice husky with desire.

He obeyed without hesitation, his release washing over him in waves. Giselle followed shortly after, her body shuddering as she cried out his name.

As they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath, Giselle stroked his hair, her touch gentle. “I’ll never hurt you like she did,” she promised, her voice soft but firm. “You’re mine now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”

YN didn’t respond. He just closed his eyes, letting her words sink in. For better or worse, his life had changed forever. And as much as it scared him, part of him felt relieved, knowing that Giselle would never leave him.

She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin. “Sleep now,” she murmured. “Tomorrow is a new beginning.”

The next morning, Giselle woke YN with a soft kiss on his lips. He stirred, blinking awake to find her already dressed, her hair perfectly styled, and that confident smirk playing on her face. “Good morning, my love,” she purred, her voice dripping with possessiveness. YN sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, still trying to process the whirlwind of the last 24 hours.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Giselle sat beside him on the bed, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “I have something special planned for today,” she said, her tone teasing. “But first, we need to make sure you’re truly mine.”

YN didn’t have time to respond before she leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her hands roamed his body, waking every nerve with a fire that made him forget everything else. They tangled together once more, their bodies moving in sync as if they’d been lovers for years. Giselle took control, guiding him with a mix of dominance and tenderness that left YN breathless.

When it was over, they lay there, skin pressed together, hearts racing. Giselle propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. “You’re perfect,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jawline. “And now you’re mine—completely.”

Later that evening, Giselle led YN into the VIP room of the same club where their story had begun. She walked with purpose, her arm looped through his, her heels clicking against the polished floor. When they entered, Mia was already there, sitting in the corner, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Giselle’s smirk widened as she guided YN to the plush sofa in the center of the room, seating him beside her like a prized possession.

Mia looked up, her heart breaking as she saw YN sitting so close to Giselle, their bodies almost touching. Giselle reached out, playfully tousling YN’s hair, her fingers lingering against his scalp. “Isn’t he just adorable?” she cooed, her voice loud enough for Mia to hear.

YN shifted uncomfortably, but Giselle’s grip tightened, keeping him in place. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering just long enough to make Mia’s stomach twist. “Thank you for giving him to me,” Giselle said sweetly, her gaze flickering to Mia. “He’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

Mia clenched her fists, tears streaming down her face. “How could you do this, YN?” she choked out, her voice trembling. YN opened his mouth to respond, but Giselle silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“Oh, don’t blame him,” she said, her tone mockingly sympathetic. “He’s just being practical. After all, $50,000 is a lot of money. And now… well, let’s just say he’s landed in much better hands.”

Giselle turned back to YN, her eyes softening as she reached into her purse. She pulled out a small velvet box and opened it to reveal a sleek black diamond ring. “This is for you,” she said, sliding it onto his finger. “A little something to remind you who you belong to.”

YN stared at the ring, the weight of it heavier than the metal itself. It felt like a shackle, binding him to Giselle in a way he couldn’t escape. Giselle smiled, clearly pleased with his reaction. “There. Now everyone will know you’re taken.”

Mia stood abruptly, unable to take any more. “I can’t watch this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. But Giselle wasn’t done yet.

“Oh, don’t leave,” she called out, her tone light and teasing. “We wouldn’t want you to miss the best part.” With a wave of her hand, she signaled to one of her bodyguards, who quickly closed the doors to the VIP room, locking Mia inside.

Giselle giggled, the sound high and melodic, as she turned back to YN. “Now, where were we?” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him deeply. Her hands wandered, exploring his body with practiced ease, while YN found himself unable to resist her touch.

Mia sank back into her seat, her sobs muffled by her hands. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as the sight of YN with Giselle shattered her heart into pieces. Giselle pulled back from the kiss, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she glanced over at Mia. “Pathetic,” she muttered under her breath before returning her attention to YN.

“Let’s give her something to remember,” Giselle whispered into YN’s ear, her breath hot against his skin. Before he could protest, she straddled him, her dress riding up as she settled into his lap. YN’s hands instinctively went to her hips, gripping her tightly as she began to move against him.

Mia covered her ears, trying to block out the sounds that filled the room, but it was no use. Every moan, every gasp, every whispered word from Giselle burned into her memory. Giselle’s laughter echoed in the air, dark and triumphant, as she claimed YN in the most intimate way possible.

When it was over, Giselle stayed in YN’s lap for a moment longer, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She kissed him once more, slow and deliberate, before finally getting to her feet.

She straightened her dress and turned to Mia, her expression cold and unflinching. “You should go now,” she said, her voice devoid of any warmth. “You’ve seen enough.”

Mia nodded numbly, stumbling toward the door. One of the bodyguards opened it for her, and she stepped out into the club, the noise and lights overwhelming after the intensity of the VIP room.

As the door closed behind her, Giselle turned back to YN, her smile returning. “Finally,” she said, sighing contentedly. “Now we can focus on us.”

She sat beside him again, snuggling close as she played with the black diamond ring on his finger. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “I’ll take care of you. Always.”

YN didn’t respond. He just stared at the ring, the weight of it heavy on his hand. His life was irrevocably changed, and there was no going back. As Giselle rested her head on his shoulder, he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“Forever,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re mine forever.”

- The End -

[winchesterwild78]

Happy New Year 

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, mentions of Danneel, reader’s husband, and other people. 

Warnings: SMUT!, cheating (I don’t condone it-this is FICTION), praise kink, breeding kink

A/N: I’m currently on medication for a Sinus Infection, Bronchitis and Walking Pneumonia. The steroids really screw with my brain. This little nugget of a story came to me last night. 

I don’t condone cheating, this is fiction. Please don’t come at me. 

This story has SMUT and not much of a story line if it’s not your thing please don’t read it. 

Jensen and Reader are co-workers and end up at the same New Year’s Eve party. Jensen and the reader find themselves alone and things unfold very quickly. 

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors. 

All work is my own, please don’t take it in any way. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

“Honey, we’re going to be late.” I called from downstairs to my husband. “I’m coming. I couldn’t find my wallet.” 

“Wow, look at you. I love the dress. Is it new?” I blushed a little. How was I supposed to tell him it was a gift from Jensen? “Yeah. Just got it. Figured I’d wear it tonight.” 

“Well it’s very nice.” His tone changed a little. “Are you okay?” I asked, trying to search his face. 

“Yeah, I’m just not used to seeing you wear something like that and it’s a bit revealing.” 

“Oh, yeah I get it. I can change.” “No, it’s fine. Just take a shawl or something. I know how you get when you drink and I don’t want everyone there seeing your body.” 

I felt a little angry and insecure when he said that. Of course he always had something to say about anything I wore or ate or how I had my hair done. 

I grabbed my shawl and purse. “Ready?” “Yeah I guess so.” I stopped at the door, “If you don’t want to go then don’t. I’m not making you go.” 

“I know but these are your new coworkers and I want to meet them. Especially Erin. She’s a babe.” 

I rolled my eyes. I had been newly hired by Eric to write for the show and I’d met the cast and crew. My husband was completely smitten by Erin. She’s so sweet, and didn’t want him. 

We arrived at the party about an hour after it started. The house was huge and filled with so much energy. Eric greeted us at the door and took my stuff. My husband was less than thrilled when I handed my shawl over. 

He scanned the crowd and found Erin. “Come on, let’s go say hi.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her. 

She was talking to someone when we walked up, but when she saw me she squealed, “Y/N! You made it. I’m so happy you’re here. Oh and you brought a date.” She smiled and looked at my husband. “Honey, this is Erin. Erin, this is my husband.” She extended her hand, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” She shook his hand and the bastard kissed the back of her hand, “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard so much about you. God you’re gorgeous.” 

They started chatting and I excused myself to grab a drink. 

I walked up to the bar, ordered my drink and felt my phone buzz. I pulled it out and saw a text. 

Jensen: That dress looks fucking hot on you. 

I blushed, bit my lip and looked around. There he was, standing off to the side, whiskey in hand and looking incredible. 

Me: I guess you’ve got good taste. 😉

Jensen: Yeah I do. I see your husband is here chatting up all the ladies. 

Me: Yeah. Is D here?

Jensen: Yeah somewhere. No doubt she’s trying to weasel her way into the show. 

I laughed out loud. 

Me: So should I offer to write a part for her or not? 

Jensen: Please don’t. If you do that we can’t have our afternoon writing sessions in my trailer. You wouldn’t want to mess up those, would you? 

My cheeks burned red hot thinking about all those “writing sessions” we had. 

Me: Oh god no. Those are my favorite part of the day. 

Jensen: Me too. 1st floor bathroom in 5 minutes. I need to see that dress up close. 

Me: I can’t wait. 

I could feel the arousal and anticipation building. I saw my husband making his way around the party. No doubt flirting his ass off and trying to get laid by a celebrity. 

I went back up to him and told him I was going to the restroom. He waved me off. He was currently talking to one of the extras from the Herogasm episode. 

I walked down the dark hallway and found the first bathroom. The door was closed so I knocked our knock. The door opened and Jensen pulled me in. 

His lips crashed on mine as he pushed me on the door. One hand pinned mine above my head while the other explored my body. 

He pulled back panting. “God you’re so fucking beautiful and this dress, holy hell you’re hot.” 

Jensen’s lips trailed down my body and I shivered. His hands grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled up above my hips. Exposing my soaked panties to the chilly air. His fingers slipped between my legs and found the dampened fabric. He smirked. 

“Damn baby you’re already ready for me.” His fingers moved the fabric to the side and he found my soaked entrance. Pushing two fingers in, I gasped. 

“Mmm there you go baby. You like that don’t you? Taking all I have to offer like the good girl you are.” 

I got wetter. Something about Jensen praising me just turned me on more. 

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into this pussy. Let everyone know who you belong to. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His fingers pumped faster as his thumb found my clit. “First you’ve got to cum for me. Cum on baby. Let go. Let me feel you come undone on my fingers.” 

He pushed further in and hooked up. Hitting that soft spot deep in my core. My hands were holding on to his shoulders as his hot breath drifted over my body. 

“Jens, I’m close. Oh fuck baby! Right there.” “Cum for me baby. I want to feel you.” My body responded to his command and I came hard. Moaning loudly, his lips covered mine. “Shh, you have to keep it down baby.” 

He kept rubbing and my body was so overstimulated. 

“Come on baby, I know you have one more in there. I need to make sure my girl is satisfied. 

My heart fluttered in my chest, “my girl” oh how I wished it was true. I’d give anything to be his girl, and not just his mistress. 

I was close again, and he felt it. He stopped and a whine escaped my lips, “it’s okay baby. I’ve got you.” I heard his zipper and his belt. My hand found his hard member and I pumped him a few times. I dropped down and took him in my mouth. Sucking and licking his cock like it was the only thing keeping me alive. 

His hands fisted my hair, and he pushed my face down his cock. The sounds in the bathroom were pornographic and full of want and need. We knew what we were doing was wrong, but anytime we were together, nothing, nobody else mattered. It was just us, raw, and unfiltered. 

He pulled me off of him and turned me around. He gently laid my stomach on the counter, facing the sink. 

“You ready baby?” I nodded. He sunk his hard cock into my soaked pussy with one hard thrust he bottomed out. We both gasped and he gripped my hips. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight. I fit perfectly inside you. We were made for each other.” 

My mind drifted to the fantasy I kept hidden deep inside. The one where I was his and he was mine, completely and out in the public eye. I had fallen in love with him, but kept it to myself. 

Anytime I was in his arms I felt like I was the only thing that mattered to him. Even if it wasn’t true. 

He lifted my head up to meet his gaze in the mirror. “There she is. My beautiful girl. God I could get used to this. I want to fuck a baby into you. Mark you forever as mine.” I bit my lip and stared into his darkened green eyes. “Do it, Jensen. Make me yours. Fuck a baby into me.” 

He smirked and his hips snapped harder into me. He pulled out, spun me around and lifted me onto the counter. 

His lips crashed on mine and his hand slipped between us, finding my engorged, sensitive clit. He began to rub, “Cum for me again, baby. Cum on my cock.” Just as I was about to cum there was a knock on the door. We froze.

“Um just a minute.” I was able to squeak out. “Y/N?” I froze and looked at Jensen. It was Danneel. “Yeah, hey D.” “You haven't seen Jensen have you?” 

He looked at me and smirked, I bit my lip. Then the bastard started kissing down my neck and rubbing my clit again. “Um, no. I haven’t. Not since earlier.” My voice was shaky and Jensen smirked the whole time. Bastard.

“You okay, Y/N? You sound off.” “Yeah, D. I’m just feeling a bit hot and flustered. Must be the alcohol.” “I get it, well, see you later. Bye.” 

When we heard her walk away I slapped Jensen’s chest. He laughed, “You’re a good actress too.” “Jensen, you’re terrible.” “Yeah, but you love me.” 

My eyes flicked up to his. I didn’t know what to say. My heart hammered in my chest and before I could stop myself I said the first thing that came to mind, “Yeah I do. More than you know.” 

His eyes softened and he kissed me softly. His thrusts became softer, and his hands more gentle. Something in him flipped when I said what I did. My mind is running all the scenarios all at once. Did I just screw this up? Is this the last time in his arms, is that why he’s going slow? What is this going to do to our professional relationship?

I felt the familiar tightness in my core, and I knew he felt it too. Jensen kissed my lips and whispered in my ear, “Cum for me baby. Let me feel your walls tighten around my cock.” He kissed me as I came. Moaning in my mouth. 

I could feel he was close. His pace picked up and as he came he locked eyes with me and his lips crashed on mine again. I could feel his seed coating my walls. 

We had always been so careful, but at that moment neither of us cared. As he softened he pulled out and grabbed some tissue to clean us both up. 

We didn’t speak. Just catching our breaths as we got dressed again. 

My heart ached. I felt like this was it. I screwed it up when I professed my love for him. Before turning to leave I looked at him. His green eyes are lighter and full of so much desire and questions.

“Jensen. I’m sorry. I just got swept up in the moment. I didn’t mean to make things complicated.” 

Jensen’s hands softly lifted my face and he cupped my cheeks, “You didn’t make anything complicated, but did you mean it?” My eyes looked deep in his and I swallowed hard. I bit my bottom lip and I took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, it just happened.” 

His lips landed on mine, shutting me up. When he pulled away, his lips still ghosting mine, “Good, because I love you too.” 

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[cherrysurf]

sole to soul lovers

daichi sawamura x f! reader

“i’ll be watching you every breath you take, every move you make. every bond you break, every step you take. i’ll be watching you”

contains; roommate daichi, fluff, angst, crack, profanity, daichi being such a good roommate, close proximity, friends to lovers, jealousy. word count: 1392

Being a roommate with a rookie cop had its perks i mean, constant surveillance and protection, knowing about the juicy gossip about what went down during the training— just as much as it had its perks it had its cons too like him constantly trying to do background checks on every guy you brought into the apartment, giving him your location because he doesn’t want to see you in a dangerous situation with “someone who can’t even take you to a proper restaurant” his words not yours. Trying to scare you and telling you that the men you pick aren’t going to be good in the long run, “gosh daichi you’re like a helicopter parent you know that” you say with an assumed laugh “i’m serious yn i feel like this guy is a total jerk. i mean last week when he came over the guy didn’t even look presentable” he said rolling his eyes as he sat in the living room couch his laptop in hand looking at you checking yourself out in the mirror. “ugh daichi i don’t know what you expect it’s hard to find decent guys here” you look at him through the mirror giving him a pouty side eye like he’d ever take that seriously. “it’s not that hard” he murmured quietly, “what” you said as you almost caught what he was trying to spit out “nothing yn. enjoy your date text or call me if you need anything” he said sighing trying to hide the disappointment in his tone and body language—

you sit outside of the restaurant after embarrassing yourself to the core when your little date never showed, the host felt bad and politely asked you to leave since you were holding up a table. as you sat there outside finally blocking that stupid man’s number, you contemplated calling daichi to come pick you up or walking back home. Unfortunately you're too sad to walk so you call him begrudgingly because you hate the fact that he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to men. The thought of this frustrates you, and the overwhelming emotions of this whole night brings out the waterworks that have been waiting to abrupt for awhile, you hiccup as you look for daichi’s contact with wet droplets falling down onto your screen. you quickly wipe it off as you begin to let your phone ring “please please please answer me daichi.” you whisper “hello yn? what’s up are you okay.” he said over the phone his voice filled with concern and confusion “come get me please” you said hiccuping through your tears that some reason came out even more after hearing the comfort of daichi’s voice “okay stay put i’ll be there as fast as possible.” he says.

daichi hated seeing you like this over the past year or so you two have been rooming, he doesn’t understand why you don’t listen to him he just wants to help he cares about you, he’s seen you cry, scream, be excited, running around like a chicken with its head off looking for outfits, sleeping, everything under the sun he’s seen and experienced with you. He doesn’t understand why you keep picking these trash men, at first it was annoyance over these guys but as time grew it slowly became jealousy and envy and anger when he saw how badly they messed up. You didn’t go out a lot with guys but when you did it wasn’t the best or was good up until a point. It was the fact that they feel threatened about you living with daichi or them cheating or not wanting anything serious or not wanting to see you past when the sun had set. Daichi knew you were a good person he knew you’d be an amazing girlfriend he saw the way you cared for animals, the way you’d stay up late nights to make sure he got home safely and ate a warm meal before heading to bed, the way you’d brew him his favorite coffee before work, the way you’d go to the specific farmers market just to get those coffee beans, the way you always made his friends feel welcomed, the way you’d have talks with his mother whenever he was on the phone with her. The way your smaller shoes would look next to his shoes on the show rack by the door. He saw all of that and he wanted all of that to mean more, but how could he when you’re caught up in all of this. All he could do was watch you from afar yet in close proximity.

As painful as it was, he'd do it for you. He loved you whether you understood that yet or not as you got in the car trying to wipe away the tears on your face as if your cheeks were already stained with the marks and your eyes bloodshot red. Daichi didn’t ask, he didn't want to, he didn't feel like fighting someone all his anger he already felt was enough, you didn’t want to speak about it either as your head hung low looking at your shoes, a soft “you were right” came out your mouth as you kept looking down. daichi’s heart ached so bad seeing you in this situation, something he’d never think about doing to you, but he couldn’t tell you that. no. not yet. So for now all he did was rub circles in your back for reassurance as he drove the two of you home “it’s okay i’m just glad you called” he said after a minute of silence, which warmed your heart in a way you haven’t felt since the first day you saw him.

It was may. when he had moved into your apartment after you were on the hunt for a new roommate and posting it everywhere, he had the best application out of everyone who applied. He was super sweet and welcoming heck he even brought a welcoming gift into the apartment to show his gratitude he was always respectful and considerate which you admired. He knew he had to earn your trust being a guy and all, and he did it starting off with building your furniture, fixing the appliances around the house, buying things you guys run out of before you even thought to buy it yourself. then started the dinners, you cooking for him when he was tired, him making breakfast when he was up before you, the weekend movie nights, the holiday shopping. You gave him the best roommate of the year award that he still keeps up on a shelf. All those things running through your mind just made you understand how perfect daichi was to you, which brought back all the water works once more as you two arrived back to the apartment.

you sit in the living room with your head in your hands as daichi brings out tea for the two of you as some sort of comfort. “Here, drink this. I'll order take out in a bit.” as he lightly shoved your favorite tea that you get from the store when it’s not sold out in your hands. That’s when you snap, you set the tea down on the table “you’re too good to me daichi why?” you cry out. “I always dismiss you and I never once asked you about your feelings. I'm looking back and I just realized how much you did for me and it must’ve met something? It means something to me now and I feel so blind I'm sorry” you begin to weep more. Daichi finally sees that it all clicked in your head; he feels his heart slightly mending itself. He approaches to sit next to you once again rubbing your back as a way of consoling you “hey listen to me yn it’s okay. I’m glad you're seeing it now but truthfully I would've waited. for as long as it took you ever since the first summer we spent in this apartment i knew.” he said smiling you looking up at him teary eyed falling into his embrace “your a jerk for not telling me sooner ya know” you murmured in his chest, he could feel your smile growing even if your tears were staining his shirt “yeah i guess i am” he says with a smile.

a/n- sigh i love daichi sm.

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (5)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (4)

How to cure a grump masterlist

On Christmas Eve, the room is crowded with family, friends, neighbors, and, well, your former boss. He still sticks out with his expensive suit, polished shoes, and his whole aura.

Oddly, people like to chat with him. Bucky is a natural when it comes to wrapping people around his finger.

You can’t do much about it tonight. If you yell at him, drag him out of the room, or, what you love to imagine, choke the life out of him for being a jerk, people could get suspicious.

Smiling at the thought, you hide in a corner, watching Bucky joke with the people who do not know what an asshole he truly is.

You grit your teeth and huff. It was foolish of them to judge the book by its cover this time. Yes, he’s got a pretty façade, but deep down inside, Bucky Barnes is rotten. You’re sure about it.

“Why the face?” Your mother nudges your side. “People love him, Munchkin. No need to worry. We all hated John from the beginning, and he turned out a jerk. Trust our instinct.”

Bucky looks your way, watching you when you’re not looking. He can still feel your lips and wonder what came over him. Not two days ago, you were nothing but an employee to him, and then he kissed you.

“Man, you dismantled Walker like a pro,” your cousin laughs and shakes Bucky’s hand. “About damn time someone put him in his place. I’d done the same, but Y/N didn’t want me to say a thing. She told me to let it slip and moved across the country instead.”

“So, I heard,” Bucky hums. “Y/M/N told me they had a business together. A company?”

“Uh—they wanted to open a business together. John not only cheated on her but also stole her idea. She’s so smart and wastes her time at the office. I heard her boss is a jerk too, letting her work overtime and do her colleague’s work.”

“He must be an asshole,” Bucky replies with a smirk. He loves hearing all the insults your cousin calls your boss. “Did she tell you all about him?”

“No. Y/N never complains. She only said she’d take the next flight because she had to stay later this week too. Y/N was always too good for this world. Helped everyone around, you know,” your cousin brags. “I just know she offers her help to co-workers, and they tried to take advantage of her kindness.”

“I think Y/N is capable of putting people in their place too,” Bucky replies. He appreciates that your cousin tries to defend you but knows you better. “No one takes advantage of her.”

Your cousin grins before patting Bucky’s shoulder. “I already like you.” He chortles. “Oh, I gotta take care of my girl now.”

Bucky nods, as his eyes drift toward you again. Ever so often his mind drifts back to the moment he kissed you.

“You’re staring,” your aunt chuckles, catching Bucky staring at you. “I know you’re head over heels for my niece, but don’t undress her with your eyes while being around her family.”

“What?” Bucky dips his head to glance at your aunt.

She chuckles again and pats his arm. “Aw, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I know Y/N is lovely.”

Bucky furrows his brows. All he did was look your way. Why your aunt thinks he had something dirty in mind is beyond him.

“Phew...that was…nice,” Bucky says as you watch your mom say goodbye to the last guest, your aunt. “Do you always host a Christmas party for the neighbors and half of town?”

“Most of our neighbors would be alone on Christmas Eve, just like my mom. They are long divorced, widowed, and their kids don’t come around before or after Christmas,” you explain while Bucky watches you. “And family is family, you know. They all have their own family and will spend the rest of Christmas and New Year’s Eve with them.”

He nods thoughtfully and says, “I guess you’re better at opening your home for people. My parents only ever hosted Christmas parties for business partners.”

“Figures,” you bite your tongue and curse yourself for your response. “I meant it’s smart to invite business partners for Christmas. They feel valued that way.”

Bucky quirks a brow but says nothing. He’ll let it slip, knowing you’re not wrong.

“Anyway,” he fakes a yawn. “It was a long day, and I need to call Steve in the morning. He needs to take care of a few things while I’m stuck here.”

“And whose fault is that?” You huff. Bucky still tries to blame you for his friend’s mistake. “I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“Yours,” he grins. “You made me come out here.”

“It was your friend not telling you about our conversation.”

“Relax,” he laughs. “I know it was Steve messing shit up, okay. You’re not to blame.” Bucky got up from the couch, just in time to bid your mom goodnight.

She furrows her brows as your former boss makes his way upstairs.

“Munchkin, don’t you want to join him?” She snickers when you roll your eyes. “I know you did more than cuddle. You’re a grown woman and have needs. I understand, Y/N. With a man like James around, a woman can get all tingly.”

“Mom!” You groan. “It’s not like that.”

“I know love is tough. How about we call it a day, and you can go back to denying you don’t like the handsome man sleeping under my roof? She flashes you a warm smile before pulling you into a hug. “Maybe he’s a little snobby on the outside, but I think James has a good heart. He’s just not used to showing it…”

Once again, you toss and turn. Your mother’s words still echo in your mind, and your lips still tingle from Bucky’s kiss.

“Christ, get over it. It was one fucking kiss,” you groan and slam your fist into the mattress. “It wasn’t even that good. Even if he tasted good and his lips perfectly fit with yours. Stupid... just stupid. He’s an asshole who fired you two days before Christmas.”

You turn on your side and decide to sleep it off. Soon Bucky will be out of town and out of your life. When he’s gone, you can try to explain to your mother who he is…

“Hmmm…” you murmur in your sleep. Somehow, you’re warm, very warm. It feels like a heating blanket wrapped itself around your body to keep you warm—or rather hot. “Fuck…warm.”

Wiggling in your sleep, you try to fend the heat off. You groan and shift again as it’s too heavy. “Warm…” Your eyes slowly open as you try to turn in your bed. It’s impossible. Something, or rather someone, wrapped himself around your body. “What the fuck!”

“What? Where?” Bucky jolts up on your bed. He looks at you lying next to him. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“What am I doing in your bed?” You sit up and huff. “This is my room and my bed. Get out! This is not some case of only one bed!”

“I—” he looks around the room, frowning deeply. Bucky ruffles his disheveled hair, trying to remember how he ended up in your bed. “Did we—?” He looks you up and down, licking his lips.

“What? NO!” You slap his chest, realizing too late he’s not wearing a shirt. “We didn’t have sex! Did you drink yourself to sleep?”

“Maybe I got a little drunk,” he murmurs and falls back onto your bed. Just now you smell the alcohol on him. “I was so lonely, and Steve ignored my calls. He fucked my vacation up, and now I’m stuck here and can’t even—”

You watch him turn on his side. “Hey, go back to your room.” You poke his back, but Bucky won’t budge. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You sigh and fall back on your pillow. There’s no way you can move Bucky. Turning your back on Bucky, you huff. “If your hands wander, you’ll lose them…”

Tags in reblog.

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Unverified and Unfiltered °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None except Franco finally realizing his feelings for Y/n ??

Note: My final semester is about to start soon and I honestly can’t believe I’m graduating in a few months 😭 I might become super slow at updating soon so be warned, I’ll try to finish this series as soon as possible for you guys.

DRS Masterlist. (PREV./NEXT.)

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and others.

ynbardot vegas you will forever be my fav gp xx

alexandrasaintmleux you left your jacket 😭

— ynbardot coming to get it 😭

flavy.barla the heels look so good !! x

— ynbardot not as good as you lovely!

@racedayrealness why is y/n with mclaren all weekend, and why does it feel like she’s avoiding franco? something’s off, don’t you think??

@f1lover24 y/n with mclaren all weekend and no sign of franco? is there something we don’t know? did they break up or is this just a job thing?? 🤔

@f1dramaqueen wait a minute, y/n has been with mclaren all weekend, and franco hasn’t been by her side once?? what’s going on there?? 😳 why is she hanging out with them instead of him?

As you scroll through your phone, you can’t avoid the buzz around you—another post from one of the gossip pages, this time with a headline that hits you in a way you weren’t prepared for: “Did Franco Cheat on Y/N? Fans Speculate After He’s Spotted with Another Woman Post-Brazil GP.”

Your thumb stills on the screen, eyes narrowing as you read through the comments. Most of the fans are speculating wildly, asking if you and Franco have broken up or if there was some truth to the rumors.

They’re piecing together the evidence from the Brazil Grand Prix, where he was photographed with a woman that isn’t you—supposedly a “mystery woman.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse, with you and Franco having barely spoken all weekend. The atmosphere between you two has been tense, almost suffocating, with nothing but cold indifference when you cross paths after the encounter at the McLaren hospitality.

The worst part? You’re still stuck in the middle of this fake dating charade. You agreed to it, sure. It seemed harmless at the time—just a way to keep the fans entertained and give Franco some space from his own public relations mess. But now, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve made a massive mistake.

“Can you believe this?” Elena asks, leaning in to look at your screen. You quickly swipe it away, your stomach twisting. You don't want to deal with it right now. Not with her. Not with anyone.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you reply, your voice flat. You know that’s a lie. It’s everything.

Elena eyes you suspiciously. “You don’t look convinced.”

You glance over at the Williams garage, trying to distract yourself. But there, at the edge of the crowd, stands Franco.

He’s not looking your way. He hasn’t all weekend. You haven’t spoken to him directly since Friday, and the silence between you two is deafening.

“I don’t get it,” Elena continues, oblivious to your discomfort. “Why are you still doing this? All of this fake dating nonsense. He clearly isn’t treating you like someone who’s ‘in a relationship.’”

Her words sting more than you expected. You’ve tried to bury the doubt, tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. It was just business, a little stunt to keep the media off your backs and for fun, since you weren’t looking for anything serious.

But now, as you watch Franco interact with everyone else around him—like there’s no underlying tension, like there’s no weight to your shared history—it all starts to feel utterly foolish.

You glance back at the screen of your phone, the comments still coming in fast, asking if you and Franco are still together, if you know the woman he was spotted with, or if this is all just a cover-up.

Your mind spins, and your heart clenches, realizing that what was once supposed to be a simple solution to a complicated situation has turned into a mess. A mess you don’t know how to clean up.

Elena’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Y/N, you don’t need this. You don’t need him. If he really cared, he’d be here talking to you instead of hanging around with everyone else like everything’s normal. I know we all thought this would be in good fun, but you actually started developing feelings for him,”

You want to agree with her. You want to feel strong, empowered. But instead, you just feel... empty. It was never supposed to feel like this.

You catch a glimpse of Franco again, still at the edge of the crowd. His gaze flickers your way, but as soon as your eyes meet, he looks away.

A bitter taste forms in your mouth as you think back to the last time you spoke—how forced it felt, how nothing had been resolved between you two.

The worst part? You feel like you’ve been left out of your own life. Your relationship with Franco, whatever it was supposed to be, now feels like it’s crumbling into something you can’t recognize.

Elena presses on, more insistently now, “Are you really going to keep pretending this is fine?”

You look at her, unsure of how to answer. The truth is, you don’t know what you’re doing anymore. The idea of a fake relationship seemed like an easy fix, but now it’s only made everything harder.

“I think I’ve made a mistake,” you admit quietly, more to yourself than anyone else. “I think agreeing to this was stupid.”

Elena doesn't push you further, but the silence lingers. You look at Franco one last time, wondering how long he’ll keep pretending too. And just like that, you realize you’ve been holding on to something that never had a solid foundation. The pieces of your fake relationship, the rumors, and now the betrayal—you’re done.

You’re finally ready to let go. At least that’s what you told yourself, because what’s the point of holding onto something that never existed?

As the last night of the race weekend progressed, Lando and you start spending more time together, both naturally slipping into a comfortable rhythm.

He’s easy to talk to, always quick with a joke or an offhand comment to make you laugh.

You find yourself gravitating toward him without even realizing it, a distraction from the awkward tension that’s been hanging around ever since Franco pulled away.

Earlier that night, as you’re sitting on the pit wall, Lando casually leans against the barrier beside you, watching the teams prepare for the race in a few hours.

His eyes flick over to you, catching the way you’ve been fidgeting with your phone, checking messages that you’re probably not too happy with.

“You know, I always wondered what it’d be like to be the one in the spotlight,” Lando says, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “But now that I’m here, I think it might just be overrated. You guys are always under so much pressure.”

You smile slightly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “Oh, yeah? You should try it sometime—one day in my shoes, and you’ll be running for the hills.” Lando laughs, nudging your arm playfully.

“I don’t think I’d make it. I like my peace too much. I don’t think I could do the whole ‘all eyes on me’ thing. It’s like, there’s always someone watching, you know?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Trust me, I get it. It's not all glamorous. You get so used to it, though. Or you just... learn how to turn it off.”

“You’re good at it, though,” Lando says, his voice a little softer now. “You always seem so calm, like you’ve got it all under control.”

For a moment, you look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. You could have sworn you saw a flicker of something deeper behind his words.

“I try to,” you reply, trying to deflect, but his expression is warm, genuine. “But honestly? I think I’m just good at faking it.”

Lando shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “I doubt that. You’re a lot more than just a pretty face and a calm exterior.”

Before you can respond, there’s a sudden tension in the air, a feeling that someone’s watching. You glance up, and across the pit, you catch sight of Franco—his eyes are locked onto you and Lando.

You quickly look away, but not before noticing the slight twitch in Franco’s jaw. Lando notices, too.

“Something wrong?” he asks quietly, his voice more serious now.

“No,” you say quickly, your heart suddenly racing, “just... nothing.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t push further. He’s smart enough to know when to let it go.

“Alright, if you say so. But, hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, or just... hang out and do something non-race related for once, I’m your guy.”

You give him a grateful smile, feeling the weight of everything lifting just a little. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lando.”

The two of you share a brief, understanding silence, both knowing exactly what the other is talking about. For a moment, it feels like the world has stopped spinning, just long enough for you to catch your breath.

As you watch Franco in the distance, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of relief and regret.

On his end, Franco leans against the garage wall, his eyes trained on you and Lando, though he tries to keep his expression neutral.

He’s been trying to focus on his own pre-race preparations, but the sight of you so effortlessly chatting with the McLaren driver gnaws at him.

He clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the dull, simmering feeling in his chest. He should be used to this—seeing you interact with other drivers is part of the territory.

But today, with the tension between you both hanging thicker than ever, it feels different.

Lando’s laughter rings in his ears, and for a split second, he can’t stand the way your eyes light up as you respond to him, like you’re truly enjoying the moment.

Franco takes a deep breath, his hand curling into a fist. He tries to tell himself it’s nothing, that he’s overthinking it. But it’s hard to shake the sudden, bitter thought that maybe he’s lost something precious.

He’s not blind. He’s seen the way Lando has been around you lately—like he’s trying to be there for you in a way that Franco hasn’t been. And, hell, maybe he’s even started to wonder if that’s exactly what you need now.

Someone who’s actually there, not hiding behind excuses or pretending everything is fine when it’s far from it.

Franco shifts his weight, his gaze flicking to you as Lando leans in closer, something passing between the two of you that’s both easy and intimate.

He can’t help but notice how you’re laughing, how your face softens around him.

It’s the same kind of laughter you used to share with him, the kind that made him think he was the only one who could make you feel that way.

Except now, it’s Lando, and that thought stings more than he’s willing to admit.

A wave of frustration rises in him, followed by an unsettling feeling of loss. It’s not just jealousy, not just the nagging thought that maybe you’ve moved on.

It’s the realization that maybe, after everything that’s happened between the two of you, it’s too late for him to even try and make it right.

The worst part? He can’t even tell if he’s angry at you for letting it go or at himself for letting it slip through his fingers.

He forces himself to look away, but it’s like he can’t escape the image of you and Lando standing there, talking, laughing, completely at ease.

A part of him wants to march over there, pull you aside, and demand to know what the hell’s going on.

But another part of him knows that it’s not his place anymore. Not when he’s the one who put distance between you both, not when he’s the one who let his own damn fear dictate everything.

As he watches you walk off, heading toward the paddock with Lando still by your side, a bitter taste lingers in his mouth. He should be focusing on the race, but all he can think about is how much he regrets not facing his feelings for you sooner.

The night was in full swing, with the music pulsing through the club and laughter echoing around the room.

The other drivers, their partners, and a handful of influencers and celebrities mingled in the dimly lit space, all wrapped up in the excitement of the event.

You were chatting with Lando, your smile wide as you joked about something that had happened earlier in the day.

The two of you shared an easy camaraderie, and the ease with which you laughed together didn’t go unnoticed.

Franco stood at the edge of the room, nursing a drink in his hand, his gaze drawn to where you and Lando were standing. He couldn’t help it. Every time you smiled, every time you laughed, something inside him tightened.

It wasn’t just the jealousy—though that was certainly part of it—it was the nagging feeling that he was missing something. That he was not supposed to feel like this.

His eyes flicked over to Elena, who had been watching him quietly for the past few minutes. She caught his eye and gave him a look that spoke volumes.

Without missing a beat, she approached him, her steps sure, and leaned in slightly, close enough for only him to hear.

"You’re really into her, aren’t you?" Elena’s tone was playful, but there was an underlying seriousness to it.

Franco glanced back at you and Lando, his gaze lingering for just a moment too long. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, he took another sip of his drink, trying to shake off the feeling that had settled in his chest.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to pretend it’s nothing. You’ve been staring at her all night.”

“I’m not staring,” Franco muttered, though he couldn’t stop looking at you, laughing with Lando like nothing in the world mattered.

“You can’t keep playing this game, Franco,” Elena pressed, her tone shifting. “You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all yourself.”

Franco’s jaw tightened. “I’m not playing any game,” he said quickly, but even to his own ears, it sounded like a lie.

His frustration rose, but it was paired with something else. Something he didn’t want to admit.

“Then why does it bother you so much to see her with him?” Elena’s voice softened, but her eyes were keen. She was getting to the heart of it, and Franco didn’t like it one bit.

He exhaled sharply, his gaze once again finding you in the crowd. You looked so carefree, so at ease, and yet all he felt was a gnawing discomfort.

Was this what he really wanted? Why did he care so much about who you were with?

Franco turned away, his grip tightening around his glass. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

“It’s just... this whole thing. It’s just fake dating. Nothing more.”

But Elena’s gaze didn’t let him off the hook. She watched him carefully, and though she didn’t say a word, the unspoken truth was clear: Franco was fooling no one—least of all himself.

As the night wore on, Franco found himself lost in his thoughts, unable to shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Watching you laugh with Lando, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked to him, made something inside him ache.

It was as if he had been living in a world where nothing mattered—and then suddenly, it all did.

He wasn’t ready to admit it, not yet, but it was becoming harder to ignore: he wanted more than what this fake relationship had turned into.

But for now, all he could do was watch from a distance, torn between wanting to be the one to make you smile and the cold reality that, for now, he was nothing more than a background character in your world.

© soleilpinto 24’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[lucy-moderatz]

What are you afraid of?

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[snowsinterlude]

need someone older.

(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)

summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.

c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal

being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.

thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.

when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.

you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.

"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.

"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.

"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.

his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.

and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.

"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.

"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"

"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.

"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.

"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.

"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.

"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.

"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.

"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.

"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."

"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.

"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.

you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"

he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.

"keep it." he said once you took the ring

"but- s-sir, i-"

"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.

he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.

"i hope you know what that means."

"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.

"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."

[karinasbaby]

ENHA HYUNG LINE — YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S DADDY ! (they all have daddy kinks. sorry.) part 1 !!

P. enha hyung line + jungwon x fem!reader (17+) | W. unprotected sex, infidelity (but it’s valid), mentions of cheating, lots of pet names, cervix & womb fucking, enha r jealous & feral, breeding kink, biting & marking, other members from diff kpop groups being assholes & getting fucked over (this is just fiction don’t come at me), lots of other filthy shit i forgot | WC. 12k (idek how that happened) | A,N. this one has been in the drafts since july. and i just finished it up while waiting for my doctor’s appointment, enjoy!

IN WHICH the hyung line (+ jungwon) get addicted to a pussy that doesn’t belong to them in the first place ?!

♡ PS this part contains heeseung, jake & jungwon !! <3

✷ LEE HEESEUNG ⋆ 이희승

the one thing that always stood out about heeseung, a striking trait that he carried was his exceptional ability to hide his emotions.

though this odd trait of his did have its own pros and cons that appeared and made themselves pretty evident throughout his life, heeseung still thought this was a good characteristic about himself.

it helped a lot to hide his emotions when he lied, when he tried to make an excuse as to why he forgot to do his homework. when asked from his friends if he was feeling down and the list went on. to put things short, he was the exact opposite of an open book that was easily read.

but heeseung started to slowly doubt this speciality of his, especially when it came to his bestfriend. and his little sister, you.

jeno has always been a great friend of heeseung, their small age gap making the two feel comfortable with one another immediately after meeting. the friendship had a click of some sort, almost making them feel like they’ve known each other for decades when they’ve only been friends for a handful amount of months.

and heeseung wasn’t stopping his grateful and happy emotions to spill out whenever he was with jeno, the kind hearted guy that he always saw as a solid, constant figure in his life and future.

the issue came for heeseung when you, jeno’s cute little sister that he always seemed to eye for a bit too long, got into a relationship.

your first relationship at that.

jeno, as your older brother was rightfully protective, giving you advice every chance he could after checking up on you and your boyfriend, soobin. whom always rubbed jeno the wrong way. but he didn’t have the courage to point it out to you and potentially break your heart, it was a risk he could never take.

but if there was someone that was even more concerned and even more protective— overly protective even, than jeno. it was heeseung.

there was something about soobin that always seemed to just not settle with heeseung. he couldn’t tell if it was his weirdly ‘forgetful memory’ as you liked to call it, or the way his eyes were constantly glued to his phone whenever you four decided to hang out. not giving you a singular ounce of the attention you deserved.

his behaviour towards you, his own girlfriend, was dry. cold. dismissive. and he couldn’t tell if jeno was purposefully turning a blind eye into this, but it was so clearly hurting you.

especially with the way your shoulders would visibly slump whenever you would excitedly tell soobin about an a new event that happened during your lecture, an interest that had your eyes sparkling while he would just nod mindlessly along to your words. vision obstructed and glued onto his stupid phone screen that irritated heeseung to no end. he could see the disappointment rising in you when soobin would pay you no attention. so passive in his responses, so visible that he did not care.

and it was angering heeseung so tremendously. setting him off like a ticking bomb that would explode at the guy any second but he kept holding himself back.

for the sake of jeno. for the sake of you. after all, he was just a friend.

and he couldn’t tell if soobin’s attitude towards you angered him more, or the fact that he was always going to be stuck under the ‘friend’ title in your life.

heeseung had developed feelings for you way before you got into a relationship with soobin, might even be a mere month after jeno introduced you to him. he had always had his eyes lingering on you. a soft, gentle glint in them whenever your presence was surrounding him in any way.

he believed that it was just him forming a soft spot for you in his heart in the beginning, but as time passed by, especially after soobin ruined everything in heeseung’s opinion, his feelings grew. becoming a solidified fact for heeseung instead of a mere reverie that he cooed about in his head.

yet for the longest time, he knew he had to keep his emotions hidden again. falling back into his old routine of covering, blanketing his feelings. hiding and cowering away in fear of your brother finding out and the dear connection that heeseung held so close to his heart ending.

so he bit his tongue. holding back any words, any opinions, any thoughts and of course any emotions that were related to you and soobin. swallowing back his anger that swirled sombrely in the pit of his stomach. though no one was taking notice of his hatred towards soobin, it was only growing more and more day by day.

like a foul stench that would blind your senses, an evil beast that festered malignantly. his distaste towards soobin became a hardened feeling. a prominent one that settled in the front of his chest. growing and branching between his ribs to only pulse in hatred whenever he saw the guy.

he wasn’t sure how long he’ll be able to hide these feelings though.

because not only was he now dealing with the fact that he had to fight himself back from punching soobin everytime he saw him, he also had his own completely opposite emotions that bloomed like the breathtaking petals of a flower when graced by spring sunlight, his undying and thriving pure love for you.

it made his heart ache in dull pain when he saw the damage soobin was causing to you. his own insides ripping apart whenever you would come crying onto jeno’s shoulder because of another argument with your jerk of a boyfriend, he was growing tired. almost as tired as you were becoming from holding his shaking fists back from marking soobin’s god forsaken face. tired from actually capturing his tongue between his teeth before vile words spilled past his lips towards him.

he was so tired with this routine. so sickened of the way you were struggling and struggling. stuck in a bubble of anguish and pain formed by soobin that no one was able to pop.

but heeseung always carried a needle around, for safe measures.

the rainy day you decided to frantically knock on his door, your sobs echoing in his house when you buried your face into his chest because you actually found another girl’s number in the same phone that soobin had his eyes stuck on. was the day that heeseung finally snapped.

fuck all of this.

fuck soobin. fuck jeno. fuck both of their feelings. he had you, who so clearly needed a massive amount of attention, of care and love to pour all over your fresh wound that ached in heeseung’s embrace. he felt his heart shattering into the tiniest pieces when you sobbed in his hold. the desperate grip your fingers had on his arms pulling at his insides as he felt his own tears aligning his waterline.

he hated to see you like this. so heartbroken and devastated over a guy that didn’t even deserve you one bit. he would’ve never treated you like soobin. not even for a single second. heeseung would’ve treated you so much better if only you had looked at him the way he’s always been looking at you for the past months.

if only you took notice of the longing in his eyes. the yearn that clawed at his heartstrings whenever he saw you in front of him. right within arm’s reach but so so far away.

but that didn’t matter anymore. you were finally away from soobin, that fucker was out of your life and you were in heeseung’s arms. heeseung’s embrace that felt so warm, so welcoming as you fit perfectly in his hold. so right.

so you stayed, feeling the safety and comfort that seeped through your body in heeseung’s presence. a peace of mind that you’ve never felt with anyone, not even with your own brother. that lulled you into calmness, heeseung’s gentle touch that brushed against the skin of your face and neck when he would tenderly caress you as he whispered sweet, calming words to your ear that made the raging storm inside of you sizzle down.

the hurt, the pain and all the agony was pushed aside. stuffed inside of a box discarded into the back of your brain. your head throbbed in pain at the excessive amount of crying you did in heeseung’s arms. a pulsing ache that travelled from the back of your skull to the end of your spine as you sniffled quietly in his arms.

“feeling better, precious?” he whispered quietly, voice barely audible. so soft and delicate as if he was scared that any unexpected move or sound will scare you. make you cower away in fear. he knew how to speak to you. how to touch you and handle you just the right way.

so affectionate, calm and delicate when handling you. touch as soft as a baby bird’s feather as if you were made of glass, the most precious material that could break and crumble with the slightest incorrect move.

he made you feel so seen, so understood and cared for. you weren’t too much for him as soobin claimed you to be. not attention seeking or annoying at all.

“not really..” you closed your eyes, wet lashes heavy with tear droplets that didn’t have the chance to roll down your face, he looked at you. in his eyes an unfamiliar glow. unable to pinpoint or understand exactly what he was feeling, all he knew was that he wanted you close to him.

“what can i do to make you feel better, pearl?” the new petname that rolled off his tongue so easily had your heart leaping in your chest, you opened your eyes. glossy vision landing on his own expectant one, he was implying something with his words. both of you aware of the sharp edge in his tone, an invitation that he had slipped towards you. waiting for you to pick it up and accept.

“make me forget about him..” your warm breath fanned over his face, the feeling of finally having you so close made his head spin. a carnal, hidden urge in him awakening after being discarded and thrown away for so long. stuffed deep inside of him for months, a crippling desire. a wicked desire to have you, has surged forward again.

his emotions, feelings, thoughts everything about you that were invalidated by his rational side. concealed in the name of his morals and beliefs that he’s wrong. he shouldn’t desire a taken woman, shouldn’t look at his own best friend’s little sister wrongly, were all springing back to life. enlivened at your mere presence. your mere existence and attendance in his hold. and heeseung was no longer holding himself back.

he didn’t care if what he was going to be doing aligned with his stupid morals and beliefs anymore. didn’t care if you were to wake up tomorrow regretting everything. didn’t care if he wasn’t going to be able to look at jeno in the eye again. he was finally given a taste of you.

not a whisper of you, not a piece of you, you were entirely served on a silver platter for him only to devour. to ravish. to feast on with ardour. to finally satisfy and satiate the hunger that always ached in his stomach for you.

you were finally here. between his fingertips. within arm’s reach, looking at him. staring into his eyes and not only looking at the devoted shine in them directed towards you, you were reciprocating it.

“yeah? that’s what you want, pretty?” he leaned down, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. you closed your eyes at the intimacy. a warmth spreading inside of you before settling into your core. dripping. that’s what you were. absolutely soaked.

“i want you.” you spoke, hit with an unknown urge to only speak the truth. removing each and every filter from your mind and mouth as you let your tongue speak whatever your brain formed at that current moment. and you wanted heeseung.

and who was he to deny you of that?

your sultry eyes that looked at him in pure lust asking him that? he was gone. your vixen like manners wrapping him in a chokehold. he was such a weak man for you. determined on pleasing you to the best of his ability, make you lose count on the amounts of times he’ll push you towards your high just so you can think about him and how good your pretty little cunt feels.

and so heeseung started, laying you on your stomach atop his satin sheets with your hands behind you, restrained by his fastened belt around your wrists while you squirmed on his bed. long, thick fingers that worked past your sopping entrance. leaking mushy walls tightened around his digits as if welcoming them for being inside of your needy pussy. fuck you were drenched.

“what a greedy cunt.. sucking my fingers in like this, wonder how long you’ve been waiting for this, pearl.” he laughed behind you, busy taking in the way your slick was drizzling down his palm, the way your puffy swollen folds swallowed in his long fingers entirely. the wet sounds from his abuse against your sweet spot was the cherry on top for him.

he was so fucking hard in his pants. his briefs feeling unbearably tight. heeseung breathed out short huffs of breaths, working his way to stretch your tight pussy open before fucking you on his length that he was sure you couldn’t take.

especially not with the way you were moaning and thrashing in his bed just from his fingers.

but who could blame you? he felt so good. his elongated fingers brushing against all of your sweet spots so deliciously. you could only imagine how mouth watering his cock would feel when he finally decides to fuck you like you’ve always dreamed of.

you couldn’t deny the attraction you’ve held for heeseung. the twinge at your heart that hoped to tug you towards him, an unknown pull that always made you stay up late at night thinking about heeseung. wondering about heeseung. dreaming about heeseung.

and for the longest time, it made you feel so guilty. so ashamed of the fact that you were thinking of your friend more than your own boyfriend. yet at the same time you heard a tiny voice in your head justifying your actions, a small part of you knew that your boyfriend was really anything but a boyfriend.

you did notice his passive behaviour. his curt responses and cold attitude towards you. but did you actually have the courage to confront soobin about it? to bring it up as an actual issue that was clearly building a separating wall between you two in your relationship? of course no. you decided to turn into a blind eye and hold faith in false beliefs that maybe, just maybe soobin will change one day.

except that day never came. it was never going to.

and the rational, logical part of you knew this. knew this so so well that it decided to give up on soobin long before your heart realised the change in your desire. the change in your mind, the way your thoughts quickly turned from being clouded with soobin, to being thundered with your beloved friend heeseung.

you didn’t even realise you had such a drastic change of heart. only coming to the chilling notion of how when you were with soobin, heeseung roamed your mind. when you were talking to jeno. heeseung was filling the back of your head. when soobin was trying to make dry love that lacked any sense of passion with you, you were left to fend for yourself with your fingers, and heeseung in your brain. heeseung on your thoughts, the whisper of ‘heeseung’ on your tongue when you finally reached the climax soobin couldn’t bring you to.

and in the beginning you were scared, terrified even of the thumping in your chest that you were sure anyone could hear if they stepped close enough to you when you were around heeseung. scared of the way your eyes would stray too far away from soobin and remain stuck on heeseung for too long. scared of the way you were only staying in your current relationship not out of love, but out of attachment to soobin when you yearned for heeseung.

hence why the only relief that you found in your love life was in your dreams. your unconscious daydreams that would conjure up a love story, a love vessel that branched between you and heeseung. every night with no fail.

yet you didn’t have to worry about this anymore. no longer tied emotionally to the false, unrealistic images and feelings that only existed in your head about heeseung. not when you had him currently groaning out praises to you, showering you with so much love and attention that you missed out on as he fucked you through your first orgasm on his fingers.

“such a good girl for me.. cumming around my fingers so well. my obedient little girl.” he trailed kisses from the back of your thighs, wet smacks of his lips against your skin till he reached your shoulder, where he traced his long tongue along your neck. “think you’re ready for me, precious?” he whispered lustfully into your ear. and god did he sound so much better. so much hotter than in your dreams.

voice almost gruff, an entire octave lower than his usual tone as he pressed his warm body against yours. brushing the exposed, leaking head of his cock and separating your oozing lower lips after discarding himself from his clothes. he was so menacing. teasing you so much when all your body ached for was to be filled up to the brim with his length.

“so needy for me.. look at your cunt trying to suck me in, pearl.” he hissed, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight of the same hole that he just fucked open with his fingers gaping at him. dribbling more of your syrupy nectar down your inner thighs as if to seduce him. winking at him when you tightened around nothing just to entice him further. making a wave of thrill pass through his body just so he would fill you up.

and well, heeseung was a very weak, weak man when it came to you.

he pushed the head of his cock in. the two of you hissing in sync, your pretty plump lips falling in an ‘o’ shape while he bit on his lower lip, your gushing walls wrapped around him so tightly the first time he sunk his cock in you. as if greeting him, their new owner before moulding into his shape.

if heeseung stared at your form any longer, he would’ve came inside of you already, ruining both of your fun. but goodness was seeing you twitching in his bed, plush thighs pushed to the sides so he can stuff his cock inside of you so fully while your arms shook and jerked around his own belt was a divine sight. one he quickly imprinted onto his brain to always go back to whenever needed.

but something told him that that wasn’t going to happen, he doesn’t need to depend on his memory anymore. he felt like he was going to be able to experience the real deal after this.

he pushed his hips forward, thrusting in and brushing right against your g-spot that had you whining his name almost automatically. “found it..” he smirked in victory, “that’s your weak spot isn’t it, pearl?” leaning down just a bit to inch closer to your ear, “your sweet sweet spot, baby.” you felt tears aligning your eyes. glossing over when he continued to nudge his hips against your spot. the one corner in your walls that had you seeing stars.

legs already shaking under him, you mewled his name so adorably. each huff and puff of air past your glistening lips made his heart skip a beat. he was growing even more obsessed with you than he already was. “y-yes seung.. that’s— oh my god.. that’s it!” you whined and sobbed for him.

heeseung sucked a deep breath in, lips kissing his teeth as his body felt like it was lit ablaze. so many months of daydreaming about this current moment that he was in right now paid off. you felt so hot. so pliant. so malleable under him. body reacting to each touch of his so sweetly, like your body recognised his as its other half before either of you did.

“such a good- haah shit.. such a good pussy.. sucking me in so well. you feel fuckin’ divine, pretty.” his eyes rolled into the back of his head from the way your cunt just kept gushing and sputtering out wetness before wrapping around his cock and sucking him back in deep. so so deep he was bruising your insides.

“j-just for you daddy..” a broken, quiet sentence that was almost unheard. almost went unnoticed. but heeseung was so glad he caught it. as the second that endearing name fell past your parted lips, he felt an entire electric shock shoot through his spine.

his mind was reeling, breaths growing uneven as your voice played like a broken record in his head, so pretty. so small. so frail and so delicate. as sensitive and precious as an actual pearl you were. heeseung was sinking in so much deeper in love than he already was with you.

“yeah, little girl? daddy’s making you feel good, isn’t he?” he was so careful. each move of his made solely for the purpose of pleasing you. of pushing you closer and closer to your peak of pleasure. and before you realised it, your climax broke down upon you like a dam. tears rolling down your cheeks and onto heeseung’s pillowcases as he fucked you through your high.

god did it feel so relieving. so alleviating to have someone put your pleasure first, to push you to your pleasure first. to care for you, think about you and make love to you for you. it was so different. so delicious you couldn’t help but ravish in the ecstasy of it all. your first ever experience of pure, arrant love.

it wasn’t only heeseung that was getting high off of the pleasure of experiencing you for the first time, your mind was also reeling from experiencing such pleasure for the first time. “s’good daddy.. too good! you feel so warm.” hicupping and babbling on as heeseung only continued to thrust in more harshly.

he felt so feverish, the temperature of his body rising while his room turned steamier. it was almost as if he could no longer breathe. not that his mind registered that feeling in the first place, the only thing he could process was the way your pussy was trying to suck him back in more and more and more.

he leaned forward, allowing his hot exhales of breath to fan against your ear. hand sneaking between your shaking thighs and circling around your clit. “you can give daddy another one, can’t you pearl?” he whimpered next to your ear. his eyelids droopy as he held back on his own climax.

he rolled his hips in circular motion against yours, no longer thrusting his leaking cock in and out and only pressing his mushroom shaped tip onto your cervix, the sensation of him so close, so deep and so hot on top and inside of you made your eyes roll to the back of your head, his movements incessant as he worked and guided your body towards another release.

“f-fuck..” sobbing under heeseung as he coaxed another orgasm out of you, he cooed besides your ear as his hands quickly unclasped his belt from around your wrists, making your hands grip desperately onto the sheets while his laced around your shaking legs, tongue peeking out to lick against your tears as he felt relief in his chest at the sight of you crying from pure pleasure and not over your ex.

the feeling of being so intimately connected to you, having you entrust him with your body and pleasure made his head reel. you being so close to him was a dream come true for heeseung. and now that he had you in tears underneath him, he was never going to be able to let go of this moment.

every second of this night has already been engraved in his head. every emotion and every fast thump of his heart tattooed itself on his memory, and it made him feel so good. so accomplished, he felt complete.

he buried his face in your neck, relishing in the way your body was shivering because of him, the goosebumps that aligned your skin because of his touch, relishing in the feeling of having you around him in every way. “you feel so good, princess..” he drunkenly spoke, his orgasm creeping up on him as he continued to grind against you.

“wrapped around daddy so well, pearl.” he groaned, every sniffle and whimper that left your mouth due to his lewd words went straight to his throbbing cock, he felt like he was seconds away from releasing and filling you up entirely. the thought alone making his jaw clench in delirium.

“want daddy to fill you up, baby?” he whispered, his smirk evident in his whisper. luring you slowly into his trap that seemed so effective with the way you whimpered for him and tightened around him more. so pleased, ecstatic and needy of the mere idea.

“p-please, daddy! please fill me up.. give me your babies..” you begged, weaker hands wrapped around his forearms to keep him in place while your cunt squeezed around him, gushing around his cock just to urge him to not pull out and fill you up instead.

and fuck heeseung was losing it.

your words almost awakening something animalistic in him, a noxious urge to truly fill you up, give you his babies and keep you just for himself only. in that exact moment, all the worries from heeseung’s shoulders evaporated.

your brother no longer mattered, soobin no longer mattered, he himself didn’t matter anymore. he only needed to have you stuck with him for eternity. by his side forever, and you were asking him to do exactly that. asking him so desperately. how could he refuse?

after all, heeseung was a very weak man when it came to you.

“gonna take all of daddy’s babies, pearl?” he chuckled, sweat rolling off of his temples as the coil in his stomach tightened further, the feeling making his voice crack at the end. you nodded frantically under him, nails digging into his skin yet the pain made him hiss in pleasure.

“please give it to me..” you moaned as you felt another release wash over you, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks while heeseung bit your skin at the overwhelming waves of ecstaty that crashed on him. “i’m your good girl, daddy aren’t i? i deserve it.. please.” fuck you sounded so starved. the mere longing in your voice, you calling yourself his good girl made him lose his mind.

and before heeseung could even realise it, he was pumping you full with his warm ropes of cum, both of you groaning in vehement, blinding euphoria while he peppered kisses around your neck and jaw. “of course you’re my good girl, baby fuuuck— you’re my prettiest girl.” his own legs started to shake in pleasure as he rode out his high.

keeping himself so deep inside of you, pushing his load deeper with each slight thrust while he stayed above you. whispering praise after praise for you just to show you how much he truly loves you. heeseung was ready to die for you.

and once his high subsided, he carefully laid next to you, moving you gently to your side and staying rooted deep inside of you before covering both of your bodies with his blanket.

he placed a loving kiss to your temple, arms wrapped protectively around your weak and spent body. “sleep well, pearl.” he spoke, “don’t think about anything, daddy’s here.” you felt the way his hold tightened around you.

you felt too fatigued to reply, instead tilting your head just enough to kiss his hand that was close to your neck, the small gesture carrying your love for the man behind you, making his heart thunder in his chest as you fell asleep, feeling so protected and loved for the first time in so long.

★ SIM JAEYUN ⋆⋆⋆ 심재윤

sim jaeyun was great at many things. acing his physics exams, being the best captain for his university’s football team and being an absolute sweetheart to his teachers and friends.

the only thing that sim jaeyun sometimes lacked in was his ability to give a fuck. especially when it came to his childhood friend, his one sided enemy and shameless copycat.

lee anton, who’s also a close family friend of jake. has been living in his shadow ever since the two could even walk. countless comparisons between the two young boys drew a very fat, drastic line that only distanced them from one another without their parents’ realisation.

sure, anton and jake might’ve sat next to each other at family dinners, passed each other tissues or salt, but the second they were outside of the dining room or the house that pushed them to be in the same vicinity? it was over.

their so called ‘friendship’ was only a show the two of them had unspokenly agreed on in order to not have their families pry into their lives. and for the longest time, it worked.

jake didn’t care. jake couldn’t even bring himself to care about anything anton related while that clearly wasn’t the case for anton.

call it his insecurities or doubts towards everything, he always watched jaeyun from the sidelines with a glint in his eyes that not even he could decipher, whether it was admiration or envy. the only thing anton was sure he felt towards jake, was resentment.

years and years of all of his actions getting nitpicked and compared to jake’s made him only strive to be more. to be better than jake. to reach heights and places the older one could only dream of. but at the same time his dreams only stayed as that, dreams.

because jake— he was untouchable. a dude that had everything and anything really. he was perfect in every aspect. excellent grades, respected by all the sport coaches, admired by every teacher and fawned over by every girl.

and it sickened anton.

because he had multiple things that now he had to improve on, he couldn’t find the one singular thing that jake didn’t have that he could snatch. the one thing he could reach and claim before his enemy could even think about it. he had to figure out a way to make jake jealous, to pay for all of these years of one sided rivalry that only made anton almost lose his sanity.

and so he did.

he found exactly what would set jake off. the only way to turn the tables around and have jake eyeing him from the sidelines.

his crush. anton managed to date you, jake’s obsession and love that no one except his close circle of friends knew about. he had you wrapped around his finger.

you see now as mentioned before, jake didn’t care. he didn’t care what other opinions people had on him, who were getting compared to him or who he was getting compared to himself. he was content and happy in being present in his own bubble, surrounded by his own people he knew he could trust. and well just lived his life.

except he couldn’t do that anymore. not when anton, who was determined to climb up towards jake’s level by also becoming the co-captain of the university’s football team— walked around the halls with his arm wrapped around your waist and lips close to your ear as he whispered a stupid joke that made you laugh. right. in front. of jake.

jake was livid.

for the longest time in his life, he never felt the need to reach his hands out towards something that didn’t come for him first. his eyes never strayed too far away from things that were already meant for him. as difficult as this was to hear for others, jake was simply gifted in many factors in life.

he didn’t try too hard to study and ace all his tests. he was just very intelligent and paid a great amount of attention in his lectures, it wasn’t his fault that he was ridiculously handsome that (as cliche as this sounds) girls fangirled over him when he would pass by the halls. and it really didn’t cost a lot to not be an asshole to others.

so for jake to feel the need to have. the crave to own. the urge to desire something that he wasn’t already divinely gifted? was making him pissed.

he wasn’t even sure himself when his crush on you started, or how it developed to be something that gnawed at his heartstrings everyday. when the smart student of his physics class turned from someone that he only used to admire during his lectures into someone he thought about before falling asleep everynight. what he did know though was the fact that he wanted you.

and was jake someone that didn’t get what he wanted? pfft of course no.

that’s why he had you— anton’s beloved girlfriend who he seemed to forget multiple dates with because he spent too much time ogling jake— clenching down on his leaking length that thrusted past your sopping hole.

“f-fuck! jake— shit! he’s going to hear us!” you mewled his name, body feeling excessively warm, heart thundering against your chest in both anxiety and excitement at the thought of being caught with jake, sweat rolled down both of your bodies while you desperately clawed at jake’s open locker.

jake was currently balls deep inside of you in the football team’s locker room.

where anton was just a hallway away, calling out your name since he had to apologise for missing your fourth date this week.

“scared of letting that asshole hear us? haah— i have no idea why you’re still- fuck.. with him when you have me, angel girl.” he breathed out heavily next to your ear, eyes closing in pleasure as he thrusted into your walls that only seemed to suck him in further and further. he was feeling so ecstatic. so high on your touch and presence that he was holding himself back from filling you up entirely.

you pushed your hips back, actions completely contradicting your own words as you kept tightening around jake with each whiny moan that fell past his bitten lips, “you know i can’t leave him..” you whined, head pressing against the lockers while jake leaned down, hovering his chest above your back.

“why is that, baby? is he remembering all your dates? shit- is he buying you all the jewellery you deserve, angel? i-is he fucking you as good as i am right now?” he bit against the shell of your ear, voice growing desperate, needy, ravenous just to hear you say the words he wants to hear. his satisfaction bubbling in his stomach when you shook your head to everything he groaned to you, denying each and every action that jake would’ve done for you in a heartbeat.

“no! no no he doesn’t— hmm he d-doesn’t- fuck! only you do!” you thrashed under his hold, hips jerking forward from his grip as your abdomen only tightened and tightened further. you felt so good. the stretch of his thick cock splitting you open burned so well. you loved having him so deep inside of you, leaking tip of his dick pressing and kissing all over your sweet spots that had stars spinning around your head.

he laughed breathlessly behind you, reveling in your praises and the way each word was only a further push into his inflated ego, he already knew all of this. he knew how shitty anton was treating you as he was too busy trying to make him jealous. he knew every and each move anton was trying to pull but none of it was going to work.

as he was too busy to study jake’s reactions to even realise that he had his own girlfriend cumming around his enemy’s cock so prettily. falling apart in jake’s embrace as jake only cooed and encouraged you even more. to cum more. to make a mess over his cock. to claim him as yours just as badly as he wanted to claim you as his.

and that’s exactly what you did, with the way his cock kept bullying its way back inside of your walls that continued to milk him for all he’s worth. relishing in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up with warm and thick ropes of his load, you continued to do what he wanted. forming a sheen ring of your combined juices around the base of his cock.

jake kept fucking into you, whispering words after words of praise hotly into your ear while your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. his hand let go of your hip to push in between your sticky inner thighs, fingers working deftly in rubbing circular motions onto your throbbing clit that only pulsed in need under his touch. “telling me to stop.. when she’s sucking me in this well.” he groaned, breaths getting caught in his throat as he felt hot white pleasure spreading all over his body.

“asking me to not fuck you… only thinking about your stupid boyfriend what about her then?” he slapped against your cunt, the wet sounds of his fingers landing on your wet, glistening skin had your mind reeling. “always so selfish not thinking about her.. oh but i always do. i can’t get this pretty cunt out of my head baby.” he shivered behind you, getting lost in the way you kept sucking him in due to his words.

the two of your bodies were moulding into one at this point, your flimsy panties that were pushed to the side with your skirt pushed upwards and jake’s shorts that were pooling by his ankles were the last of your concerns, him fucking you this good and this deep in the public space of your locker’s room was also discarded into the back of your head that was getting gradually fucked into subspace.

your senses heightened, only processing the feeling of jake’s swollen, pulsing tip kissing and pushing against your throbbing cervix that begged to be filled up with his cum over and over again, filled up to the brim as many times as jake could give to you till the two of your bodies gave out.

“you don’t actually want me to s-stop do you, baby?” his voice became shaky, matching your own shaky breathes as he bit against the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders. his hips began to grind against yours, thick swollen balls pressed against the curve of your ass as he barely pulled out an inch or two before stuffing you full of his cock. “t-think about her, princess.” he starts to slap against your pussy again, gentle wet slaps that echo embarrassingly loud in the empty locker’s room.

“telling me to pull out when she’s so greedy f’me?” he moans, chest heaving in deep gulps of breath as he kept holding his orgasm back, reminding himself to not cum before you again. “tell me baby, will he ever breed this pretty little cunt like i’m about to right now?” his hand that was gripping your hip dug his fingers into your plush skin further, leaving indents of his sharp nails behind while you mewled in pained pleasure at the sensation.

you loved it when he marked you, admiring all his marks whenever anton wasn’t home and hiding them away from his eyes, it made you feel excited. a rush of joy sparking in your stomach at the thought of these marks being a secret only you and jake knew about.

“n-no no.. he won’t, jakey he c-can’t!” you hiccuped, his favourite pet name spilling out while you felt your used, swollen pussy aching in pain and need. you felt so wasted, so febrile as your cunt only spasmed around him needily no matter how sore you already were feeling. and jake loved it so much when your body began to respond to him, reacting to every touch and contact made by him and he knew each response like the back of his hand.

he doubted if anton knew how to get your body like this too. flushed and burning in his hold, saturated pussy walls milking and squeezing him, salty droplets of sweat that dribbled down the back of your neck that he had no problem licking up. there was no way anton knew your body like he did.

he knew exactly which buttons to push and which parts to pull, just like how he knew that thrusting his hips so deep to the point where your cervix felt bruised while sneaking one of his hands under your shirt to tug at your hardened nipple and slither his other hand to wrap around your neck, pressing lightly just to make your head spin will have you unraveling again on his throbbing cock.

“there you go princess..” he breathed out, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls calmped down on him. cunt wrapping around his thick cock like a vice as you creamed and made a mess over his dick just how he liked it. “feels good, angel?” he spoke against the skin of your neck, hands now moving to grip onto his own locker door to stabilise himself. you nodded dumbly to his words. eyes closed as electrifying waves of euphoria twitched along your body.

“good baby.. so so good t’me.. you can take more can’t you now? my pretty girl?” he spoke over the approaching yells of anton, your name spilling past his lips as his eyes darted everywhere in the halls to find your figure. though he didn’t know why his feet led him into the hallway of the football team’s locker room, he just decided to not wonder about it too much.

and you might’ve not been able to hear him over the incessant ringing in your ears as you came down from your high that jake fucked you dumb towards but oh he heard it so clearly. the tone of desperation in his voice was like music to jake’s ears. this right here, was his chance. and he was going to take it no matter what happens.

“think you can take a bit more, princess?” he began to move his hips again, nasty, loud and squelching wet noises echoing in the locker’s room as he pulled in and out allowing a glistening, clear mixed with white mixture of both of your arousals to dribble past your inner thighs, he looked down at the sight of his veiny cock glistening in your syrupy juices. the locker room’s lights reflecting off your pretty stuffed cunt and his thick cock that disappeared between your dripping folds. god he could cum right now if he wanted to. but he still held back.

his hand moved onto your lower back, pressing slightly to bend you down more. deepening the arch of your back to make his cock slip past your drizzling folds, each thrust of his against your hips almost splattering your filthy wetness over your ass cheeks and his pelvis. he pulled his hips slightly back before ramming them forward again. the ridiculously wet noise in combination with your sinful moan made his muscles tighten.

his abs flexing as he lifted his shirt, tugging the hem of it between his teeth to allow the gushing combination of your juices to climb up his stomach, revelling in the way your pussy spurted out more cum, more squirt and more of your sweet syrupy nectar combined with his own on his skin. in a way he felt like you were marking him, rightfully staining your own territory and it made him feral.

“baby?” the distant yells of anton became closer and closer. the stupid pet name that he dared to call you made jake scoff. his jealousy, envy and all nastily negative emotions that swirlied within him made him fuck you harder. harsher. his length pulling at your walls, tugging against your sweet spots making you sob and wail his name, jake’s name in the locker’s room.

“who’s fucking you this good, princess?” he growled, drool dribbling past the corner of his lips as sweat rolled down his temples, the salty droplets finding purchase on his glowing skin before falling atop your shining one. “y-you! jakey.. fuck! oh my god- you you you!” you babbled on, if jake’s mouth was covered in drool yours was a mess. you salivated more and more as he bullied his cock inside of you, marking and moulding your insides to only fit his length. only recognise his dick and veins that decorated his cock.

“what’s my name baby? say it. yell it. scream it, princess. let them all hear who you belong to.” his shaking hand turned to land a harsh slap against your right ass cheek, palm burning at the aggressive contact of your soft skin with his making you cry even more under him. face almost pressed against the cool metal of the locker, pearly tears falling freely onto the wet puddle that the two of you had formed on the floor right between your legs.

“jakey!” you gasped loudly, vision blurry with both overstimulated pleasure and your own tears. a hot pounding forming in the back of your head as jake continued to fuck you stupid on his thick inches that dragged along your creaming walls, clenching and clamping down on him in cadence to his thrusts.

“that’s not my name, princess.” he frustratedly groaned, he was almost able to hear anton’s foot steps as they approached the locker’s room where he had you bent over and sucking in his cock like the perfect slut for him that you were. the slut that anton didn’t even know existed but jake had memorised like the back of his hand.

“d-daddy!” you choked out, swallowing back sobs as another orgasm washed over you, cumming so hard around jake’s cock while he continued to fuck into you, each squirt of your sopping pussy only encouraged him to push back into your cunt. “pushing me out now, is she?” he moaned, head thrown back in pleasure at the added pressure of your cunt both pushing him out and sucking him back in. making his head reel in ecstasy.

“say my name, baby. say it. who owns this fucking pussy?” he thrusted back, attempting to piston his mushroom tip against your sweet spots to make you see stars. “you do, daddy! you do!” mewling under him as your own nails began to dig into your skin. jake felt so much euphoria rushing deep in his veins at your words. the sound of your whiny voice mewling and moaning so sweetly for him while your body squirmed under his hold made him so happy. he had you exactly where he wanted.

at the best position for anton to see right when he walks past the door of the locker’s room.

“am i fucking this pretty cunt good, princess? want me to fill your cheating pussy up? knock you up so you have no choice but to stay with me and not your asshole of a boyfriend, hm?” he egged you on, knowing so so well that anton heard everything. the loud screech of his sneakers against floor of the hallway telling him everything he needed to know and god jake was on cloud fucking nine right now.

“gonna let me breed you? make you pregnant with my baby. have you all round and pretty carrying my baby so you’re mine forever.” he leaned down to kiss against your neck, his balls squeezing more tightly as he finally let go. allowing all the cum stored in them to push against your pretty cervix and womb. filling you up with his hot ropes of cum, knocking you up just how he wanted.

jake didn’t even mind the shocked gasp the fell past anton’s lips at the sight, too high. too drunk and wasted on the feeling of the way your pussy was sucking him in as he triggered another orgasm from you because of his own, he hummed at the feeling, soft whimpers falling past his lips while he held you close to him. god he was cumming so so much. filling you up to the brim so well you could feel his cum flooding your insides, filling up your swollen pussy and uterus so well. there was no way it didn’t take.

your drool was dribbling past your chin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jake grinding up against your ass to ride both of your highs out, his hand pressed against the bloated bulge in your lower stomach while broken sobs and whispers of his name made it to his ears. your body was so weak. so used and so utterly exhausted from the continuous fucking and breeding. “feeling tired, mama?” he whispered lustfully against your ear, peeking one eye towards the locker room’s door just in time to catch the faint sight of anton’s sneakers quickly disappearing behind the walls.

he smiled, satisfaction and happiness bubbling in his insides at the thought of finally having you. with no worries or concerns of anton. he felt so joyous. so relieved that you no longer had to deal with that asshole. he finally had you all to himself.

he kept his softening cock buried inside of you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you felt so soft, so nice and warm in his hands when you moved your hand back to tug at his neck, you turned your head back and connected your lips to his.

and just that action alone had jake’s heart bursting with love, he finally had you wrapped around his finger just how you had him for the longest time.

☆ YANG JUNGWON ⟡ 양정원

for yang jungwon, life had always been on easy mode. as if playing an easier, more smoother game of life with less bumps and obstacles in his path. everything almost moulded to his liking and every unfavourable decision changed for the sweethearted guy.

his life was nothing short than average— he was a remarkably good student, great president of his class. trusted tremendously by the teachers, very dearly loved by all animals— well okay maybe his life wasn’t that average.

but he just liked to believe that it was fate, or luck, one of those two didn’t matter which one but he did know that there was some other higher power that played an important role in all of his life events. as surely there was a reasoning behind every single thing that happens in his world.. or maybe not somethings are just meant to be the way the are.

much like his confusing rivalry with his number one public enemy, the guy that he would actually have no problem with killing if he could, haruto.

the hatred, dislike and absolute loath the two shared against each other was a mystery to not only the people surrounding them, but to their own selves as well. jungwon couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his relationship with haruto had began to bend incorrectly but as far as he remembers— it’s always been like that.

the two couldn’t stand each other to stay in the same room. throwing nasty glares at one another before turning their heads to spew hateful words. “this fucking asshole” “this stupid bastard” and their friends were used to it. no matter how many times they attempted to understand, to really know the reason as to just why there was so much ill dislike between them— they just couldn’t reach anything.

“because he’s a cocky son of a bi—“ “yeah okay i think that’s enough.” jungwon got cut off by his younger friend ni-ki when asked about his unexpected distaste towards haruto, no one bothered to figure out the weird and unexplained hostility between the two boys after that.

and for the longest time, with no interaction points between the two. everything seemed to be fine. both of their hearts calming down from beating so much hatred, mouths empty from nasty words and a calm and collected peace of mind for all parties.

but that didn’t last that long.

you see, jungwon wasn’t the best when it came to maintaining relationships— not in a cheating or unloyal kind of way. he just didn’t feel like he was reciprocating the same amount of effort and dedication he was receiving in a relationship, hence most of the ones he’s went through had reached their demise before they were able to fully bloom.

blame it on his busy schedule and duty filled routines, he just sometimes couldn’t push an entire romantic relationship to handle and be apart of into his life at certain periods.

something that haruto was clearly able to do. and god he did not let anyone hear the end of it, especially jungwon.

the problem wasn’t the fact that jungwon couldn’t keep a relationship anymore. jungwon had always wanted to be in one, to be loved and appreciated and doted on by someone he wholeheartedly trusted and saw a future with. he wasn’t afraid to love either. it was just the time factor that he wasn’t sure about giving. not the satisfactory amount for a lover atleast.

but for haruto to rub all of this into his face when he sat at a lunch table with his arm slinged around your hips as you gazed at him with hearts in your eyes? was a bit too much.

“that’s why you can’t keep a fucking relationship!” this sentence coming from haruto during another argument a mere two days later after seeing you two in the cafeteria? oh jungwon was fuming.

this was it. if haruto was so concerned about jungwon being unable to keep a relationship, why not just snatch away his?

which explains how you currently landed in this situation, laying sideways on his bed. one of his hands gently held your leg, keeping an open entrance for him to plunge his cock back inside of your wetness. he felt so ecstatic. so deep as he shoved his thick inches inside of your gummy walls. length exploring and massaging your insides so wonderfully you couldn’t help but moan so prettily for him, small praises tumbling past your lips. you were so dizzy in pleasure.

“feels good, precious?” he would mumble behind you, his own eyelids shut tightly at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in greedily. a ravenous grip around the base of his cock that had him seeing stars. “s’good won.. f-fuck.. t’ feels amazing..” you huffed, pearly droplets of sweat shimmering prettily over your body as he rolled his hips up against your ass.

his thrusts were short, not too much power behind him as he was so drunk off of your pussy already. they were just right. pushing and kneading against your sweet spots so deliciously and making you bite you lower lip harsh enough to draw a metallic taste into your mouth. he was stuffing you so well. fucking you so good you couldn’t even think about anything else.

especially not the date with haruto you were supposed to be on like right now.

and jungwon knew about it. he knew so well exactly what haruto was planning to do on this date, which flowers he was buying and to which restaurant he wanted to take you to make up for the fact that he was an actual asshole just like jungwon had always known.

because what sane man would be mean to you? no matter how many times you tried to hide it from everyone’s eyes, jungwon knows that you’re not happy in your relationship with haruto. hell— he even got into a relationship to make him jealous in the first place. it wasn’t out of love or whatever lie he was feeding you.

no one except jungwon knew about the disgusting and degrading comments and names haruto would make about you. about his horrible manners and actions that would only make you question the whole purpose of this relationship, because love— what was known as the basis for every relationship, was clearly missing in this one.

but you were too attached to realise that, too used to being around haruto to consider anyone else. so what if he was rude to you? atleast he was your boyfriend. or well.. that was until jungwon walked into the picture, more like waltzed into your life.

“you feel so good around me, doll. milking my cock with this pretty cunt— fuuuck you’re so good to me.” he praised you on and on. mouth and tongue never getting tired from showering you with compliments, something drastically different from you were used to and it felt so nice. different, but a welcomed different.

you shyed away adorably from him, whimpering in his hold as tears sprung into your eyes from both the sensitivity of your cunt and your heart, he felt the way your walls tightened around him at his words. the feeling paired with your body turning warmer and your cute mewls made him coo in your ear. how cute can someone be?

he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that haruto had actually managed to score you. to date you out of all people. such a sweet souled woman that only deserved praise, love and affection. all things that jungwon couldn’t help but shower you with as you laid under him, taking his cock so well like a good girl. seriously how could haruto not treat you right?

though questioning haruto did become something jungwon gave up on ages ago. the only point he took away from that was if haruto is wrong about something, then there’s a very high chance that jungwon’s right.

and haruto was so so wrong about degrading you. treating you so poorly when all you needed were a few soft whispers of how well you were doing, what a pretty girl you were as you took his big cock in so sweetly to get you to glow more. to flourish right before his eyes when you bucked your hips back against his. eyes shutting in ecstasy while butterflies fluttered in your stomach. feeling so loved and appreciated in the arms of a man you knew would never hurt you.

jungwon was enamoured by you. drowning completely in adoration and love for you. you were so warm in his embrace, body so pliant and responsive to his every move. almost like you were made for his touch. made to allow his fingertips to burn along your skin as they trailed from your waist down to your leg.

so needy, so so desperate to feel him all over you. and he felt the same way. the urge to press his skin against yours, cover your body with his and mould both of them into one you couldn’t tell apart where he was ending and where you were starting, everything felt so hot. so warm so electrictifying as he fucked you open on his cock in a way you’ve never felt before.

“p-please.. leave him for me bunny..” he stuttered out, throat closing up when your walls clamped down on him at the sound of his voice so distant, an entire pitch higher and so debauched in you. you shook your head mindlessly at his words, unable to agree to them, haruto still held a small precious spot in your heart. you were still attached.

“you know he doesn’t deserve you, precious..” his chest heaved in heavy gulps of air, his own waterline aligning with tears as he desperately clawed at your body as if he was almost panicked at the thought of you not leaving. begging you to leave his own enemy and become his. he wanted you so bad. to call you his so bad. to claim you, to please you and to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

and he could tell you wanted him just as badly. if your body language was anything to go by, he would think you were in love with him already. you were so good to him. felt so incredible around him he couldn’t help but feel his body floating in utter euphoria, pure ecstasy with you.

“i c-can’t.. i can’t do that won.. s’too mean..” you hiccuped, tears rushing down your pretty face making him coo, he slithered his other hand down your waist, middle and ring finger teasing your throbbing clit that pulsed with need. you were so close to the edge of your climax your eyes rolled back when he began to rub slow circles on your aching bud. almost matching them along with the rolls of his hips against yours.

he was fucking you so well. so good. teetering on the edge of complete pleasure as his heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your ass with every motion. the sound so lewd and sinful it made your head spin with each smack! smack! everything felt too good. too much.

“don’t you think him not fucking this pretty cunt good is too mean, bun?” he laughed breathlessly, eyelids fluttering shut when his raging hot tip that leaked tremendous amounts of pre nudged against your cervix, you sobbed out incoherent words. mind turning into a puddle of mush in your skull as you were unable to process or think about anything other than jungwon’s dick fucking you open like this.

he nudged his nose against your ear, hand and hips picking up in speed to ram inside of your snug cunt that only seemed to suck him in further. sticky, glistening ropes of arousal connected his hips and pelvis to your ass cheeks that were covered in a white mess. you had lost count about the amount of times you’ve creamed on him now, and jungwon didn’t mind at all.

with your hot breaths fanning against one another, warm, sweaty bodies moving in cadence and your insides feeling so sensitive and sore, neither of you were able to pick up the echoing sound of your phone ringing on the bedside table. the call coming from none other than haruto.

“come to me pretty bunny.. leave him and- haah— shit.. come to me.” he moaned by your ear, finger incessant in rubbing against your clit and to coax out another orgasm out of you and another and another.

you were feeling so delirious at this point. having jungwon— a guy that your heart soared for fucking you and dragging out so many highs out of you while begging you to leave your asshole of a boyfriend was so.. intense. it was so much. way too much for your brain to comprehend.

“you know i-i can treat you better right?… so much better than him..” he whined, so lost on you, so gone and drunk on the flavour of you atop his senses. overtaking his every thought, his every idea, his entire brain and whole heart completely. and he loved it. as if hexed by a spell you casted upon him, he relished in it.

and you revelled in his attention, his love that he continued to rain on you, possessed by his presence and enchanted entirely. as if stuck under his hypnosis, the movements of his body against yours, his whispers of sweet words, sweet promises and dirty nasty things he would do to you if you were his had you hexed so so deep into his own spell. tangled in a passion dedicated to him and formed by him only.

you nodded in a lucid manner to his words, eyes droopy as they opened and closed with your vision blurry. you could barely pick up the way you were unraveling around his length again. gummy walls clamping down around the base of his cock for the nth time in the past few hours as you came so hard.

“just like that bun… cumming around my cock so good doll.. needy cunt sucking me in so so well.” he spoke deliriously, his own consciousness slipping away before he finally heard your ringtone. the thought of it being haruto made his inside twinge in excitement. his hand moved imperceptibly, wrapping his fingers around the device while you were still lost in your stupor of pleasure.

he glanced at the small screen and couldn’t help the wide cheshire grin that spread across his features at the sight of ‘haruto ♡’ this was it.

he quickly answered the call, lowering the volume to not have you hear his worries and apologies that instantly began to spill out the speaker. you were so caught up in your own high, eyes closed as jungwon kept rocking his hips against yours making you get stuck on subspace as he remained restless. not taking a second to stop and trapping you in a constant state of ecstasy. and you were loving every second of it.

“feeling good, baby bunny?” he asked loudly, unnoticeably switching the phone to his other hand that kept holding your leg up and lowering the speaker right against your cunt. making the wet smacking sounds, the slaps of his heavy balls against your ass echo in haruto’s ears as he felt his heart drop.

that voice. was too familiar for his liking.

“s’good won.. shit— feels s’good..” you babbled on, soft hands gripping roughly at his ruined bedsheets as there was almost a puddle forming between the two of your bodies, more cum more wetness more arousal seeping out of your fucked hole when jungwon would pull slightly out. a mere inch that will make his cum leak outside of your gummy walls before squeezing himself back in and god the sound was so filthy. so nasty as it echoed for all three of you.

“who’s making you feel this good, hm? tell me who’s filling up this pretty little greedy cunt, bun?” he bit against your ear, licking the shell of it sensually as the need and urge to devour you was just worsening with every second. he needed to feel you everywhere, taste you everywhere and touch you everywhere.

“you are— fuck! you’re making me feel so good.” you mewled under his hold. writhing in complete pleasure and ecstasy as he kept pushing his cock between your puffy and glistening folds. “what’s my name, my pretty bunny?” he whispered lewdly into your ear, his mere voice almost acting like an aphrodisiac for you. making you more needier and wetter for him.

“daddy! ngh daddy you feel s’good!” gasping his favourite name for him so loudly, unaware of the fact that haruto choked on his own spit at how slutty you sounded. voice almost an entire pitch higher and voracious. he felt his own pants tightening at the filthy sounds filling his ears. you never sounded like this with him hell— your room never sounded like this when you were with him.

“good girl.. such a good obedient little bunny for me, screaming her daddy’s name like the good bunny she is..” he kissed along your skin lovingly, dropping the phone onto the bed without a care if haruto had hung up or not, you were right in front of him and he wasn’t able to not give you his full attention. not when you sounded so slutty and needy for him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, relishing in the way your cunt tightened and tightened around his cock as another orgasm washed over you, you sobbed his name, pretty little tears falling along his stained bedsheets as he switched the position.

he gently laid down your aching leg, the soreness of your body making you wince with the combined pleasure before he situated himself onto his knees. holding your thighs open just enough to see your ruined gaping hole leaking in front of him. the sight making his pulsating cock twitch before he pushed it back inside of you.

the two of you groaned in pleasure, both of you way past being gone. you were completely cock drunk while he was entirely pussy drunk. his mind spun with the way you still tried to suck him deeper, tight mushy walls milking his length and greedily clamping down on him. “f-fuck i’m s’close bun.. gonna let me cum inside of your slutty pussy, hm?” he breathed out. sweat rolling from his temples down his chest and even reaching his glistening, muscular thighs.

you buried your head against the pillow, mind completely high and lost on the way jungwon kept fucking you into subspace. nodding against the wet pillowcases as jungwon was almost about to push past your cervix. “that’s my girl.. my pretty little bunny letting me breed her pussy like this.” he groaned, his abdomen tightening further before he finally released the cum stored in his heavy balls that slapped noisily onto your inner thighs.

hot, long spurts of his cum webbed along your insides, filling you up to the brim and pressing right against your cervix. your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt your lower stomach almost bloating with his cum. he was releasing so so much. warm cum making your insides turn hotter as he kept fucking it back inside of you.

his groans and moans, whispers of your name and how good you felt barely reached your ringing ears, hell he couldn’t even hear his own words himself. his ears popping as he finally released the final spurts of his unusually prolonged and intense release before he dropped on top of you. caging your body beneath his.

he cracked one eye open, moving to look at the phone screen that just now closed as haruto finally hung up from the call. he noticed the way you were trying to catch your breath, slipping in and out of consciousness and took this as an opportunity to open your phone.

memorising your password as haruto’s stupid birthday, he quickly went through your home screen to find your messages. where he could already spot multiple notifications from his enemy.

haruto ♡: you fucking bitch

haruto ♡: how dare you fuck my own enemy out of everyone else

haruto ♡: i should’ve never trusted a whore like you

jungwon felt his eye twitching at the way he was texting you. anger rising up like along with the fatigue in his body before he tapped onto your keyboard

my love ♥︎: never text this number again you stupid asshole.

read

haruto ♡ is typing…

and before he could text another nasty message, he blocked his number for good.

now discarding your phone back onto the bedside table, he turned towards you littering your shoulders and exposed skin with affectionate kisses before whispering how much he loved you into your ears.

and at the end of the day, jungwon still took the one thing haruto kept teasing him for and shoving in his face. his beloved girlfriend.

a,note. yay :D ! quick karinasbaby comeback while i’m busy w uni, hopefully ill be able to post more soon if not pls know that im trying my hardest 😞 hope u enjoyed !!! ♡

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[allpiesforourown]

Superstar Luo Binghe au. All the directors beg him to be in their movies because his fame will immediately assure success for anything they make. He’s handsome, charming, dedicated, and most of all, extremely talented. He even does his own stunts!! Women love him, and men who say they hate him will still watch his movies so they can figure out how to be more like him. 

The only weird thing about Binghe as an actor is that he refuses to star in romantic films. He won’t kiss anyone, won’t pretend to date someone on screen, won’t even let another actor take over his role for the scenes he doesn’t want to do. His reason? He’s completely loyal to his husband.

Everyone thinks it’s stupid, obviously. You aren’t “cheating” by pretending to love someone else, it’s literally your job! Luo Binghe still refuses and says even he’s not good enough an actor to make anyone believe he could ever love someone other than Yuan-ge.

His fans hate this mysterious Yuan-ge. Because of his (probably insecure and jealous) spouse, all of Binghe’s fangirls cant see him sweep some y/n character off their feet. It’s even worse because they don’t know anything about this guy. Whenever someone asks to see or learn about Binghe’s husband, the star says he’ll never reveal Yuan-ge to the public, because he’s too beautiful and he doesn’t want everyone falling in love with him. 

People kind of run with the idea that obviously this guy must be a total weirdo who Binghe is embarrassed to be seen with. That has to be the explanation, because no matter how perfect someone is, how can they have such a chokehold on THE LUO BINGHE??

Then, one day, years after Luo Binghe’s initial rise to fame…. He goes on a talkshow. With his husband Shen Yuan. 

Obviously EVERYONE tunes in. No one uses TVs anymore bc of the internet, but just for this show, viewer ratings are the highest theyve ever been. Everyone wants to know what the fuss is all about with this guy to have Luo Binghe so down horrible. 

And Shen Yuan isn’t a weirdo. He’s also not some pretty yesman. He makes jokes that make the audience burst into laughter. He’s opinionated, which is really refreshing when every other celebrity stays neutral on every topic to avoid losing fans. He’s polite, but he’s not a pushover. He’s likeable, but he’s not a try-hard about it. Referencing memes makes him an instant hit with the younger generations, and the calm gentle way he talks makes him a hit with the older ones. All of a sudden everyone is going, okay we see why Luo Binghe is obsessed with him. 

Except… while shen yuan was making jokes and charming everyone, Luo Binghe was at his side, pathetically pawing at his husband for attention. The actor keeps whining every two minutes to be reassured yuan-ge still likes him. Whenever Shen Yuan compliments the host, Binghe looks like he’s about to cry. Whenever Luo Binghe jealously wraps his arms around shen Yuan everyone watching just rolls their eyes. Seeing them together people realize… shen yuan is the one that’s out of Luo Binghe’s league.

In just one hour public opinion goes from ‘no one can be worth binghe acting like that for’ to ‘luo binghe is so annoying, let shen yuan talk!!’ 

The next day someone finds shen yuan’s twitter and it blows up. He has his own fan pages now. There’s no pictures of him online other than the footage from the talkshow, so the fan accounts just post that over and over again. Shen yuan retweets a post about him with the caption “i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene” and everyone loses their mind. Everything he says immediately goes viral bc that’s luo binghe’s attic wife.

People start nagging Binghe to post about Shen Yuan bc theyre so attached after his one and only publicized appearance. Binghe is super possessive, but yuan-ge tells him not to worry, so he relents and posts pictures of him and shen yuan on vacation. They’re together, holding hands… but shen yuan’s face and body are blurred out. It’s HORRIFYING. He looks like an eldritch monster bc luo binghe refuses to let anyone look at his yuan-ge in a swim suit, go away you perverts!! His instragram is now just full of pics of shen yuan where his eyes are blacked out so noone else can see how pretty they are. It’s nightmare fuel

Shen Yuan is unfortunately too unbothered to post pictures of himself. Everyone’s tired of Luo Binghe for “hogging shen yuan all to himself” when Shen Yuan is practically an internet celebrity now. 

People go to watch movies and their theatre conversations sound like this:

“Oh, Luo Binghe’s in this one!”

“Who?”

“You know Shen Yuan’s annoying husband?”

“OH THAT GUY..”