#was gonna line it but i never got around to it

[bvtbxtch]

Never Have I Ever // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Since the party you were planning to attend got rained out, you and your best friend would have a party for two at his house. But, what happens when inhibitions are lost and lines crossed during a drinking game?

wc: ~4k

Author's note: Forewarning, there is minimal proof reading on this little one shot! I had a stroke of inspiration and used the results of a poll I held to morph the type of fic I was going to post! Thank you if you voted!

Warnings: My blog is 18+ so MDNI!! inebriated intercourse, p in v sex, oral (f receiving, face riding), handjobs, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), moaning, slight talk of Robin's sexuality and reader kissing a girl once, use of gendered language like girl and nicknames like dolly, no use of Y/N, only minorly proofed.

Masterlist

“You didn’t answer the question!” Eddie prodded. 

-

Your plans to attend a bush party at Lover’s Lake was thwarted by an aggressive thunderstorm. You and your best friend decided to reserve the party for the two of you, a pizza, joint, and the flask of whiskey you were planning to tote to the lake. You lazed against Eddie’s side on the ratty futon under the modest awning attached to the Munson trailer. The joint paired well with listening to the rain pat on the tin roof, thunder sparsely underscoring your conversations. Your half baked idea of playing party games with the two of you would soon be your downfall.

“Let’s play never have I ever first” you propose. Eddie rolls his eyes and scoffs at you. You throw a pointed look at him.

“What are you, twelve?”

“It’s a party! We said we have to play party games!” you whined.

“How are we gonna play this when I know, like, everything about you?” Eddie poked into your side. The few puffs of the joint you were both sharing already made you more giggly than normal. You squirmed away from Eddie’s body and sat facing him.

“Never have I ever…” Eddie watched your face twist into an adorable grimace. “Fuck, this might be harder than I thought.” Suddenly, your eyes lit up. “Oh! Okay, never have I ever drunk called an ex.” As close as you were, you and Eddie never talked about sex or girlfriends. Of course you were around for any of the girls he introduced you to, but you also knew that Eddie had a less than stellar reputation. the ' freak of hawkins high’ rarely had dates or serious girlfriends, but from his dealing and working at the Hideout, you only assumed there had been some escapades. A pang of jealousy hit your heart while you thought about someone else in Eddie’s bed, but you were curious. Did he have more experience than you? Was he curious about what you’d done? Were you willing to tell him? You tried to be nonchalant while you waited for Eddie’s response, but the questions kept swirling in your mind. 

Eddie’s cheeks blushed as he put the beer can up to his mouth and took a swig. Your eyebrows raised in curious surprise. 

“Who?” You blurted, almost desperate to know. 

“That’s not part of the game, sweetheart.” Eddie quipped. A lopsided grin spreading from behind his can of beer. You rolled your eyes and sat back, waiting for Eddie’s question.

“Never have I ever… kissed someone of the same sex” You rolled your eyes as you swigged hastily at your beer. Eddie’s eyes doubled in size.

“Wait, what? Seriously?” He let out an impressed chuckle. You frowned at him and crossed your arms. He looked at you expectantly. 

“It was fucking Heather Holloway in like softmore year and it was out of curiosity, you creep.” Eddie shook his head satisfyingly at you. 

“I knew you were a freak.” He kicked at your crossed legs. You bit your lip in frustration. Fine, if Eddie wanted to get personal, you could get personal.

“Never have I ever been rejected by someone I really liked” your eyes bore into Eddie’s and you saw the rambunctious glint in his eyes dull. He lost eye contact with you as he took a sad sip of his beer. You instantly felt bad. Your hands and gaze fell to your lap. 

“I thought you knew about this…” Eddie peeped. You violently shook your head. Eddie opened his mouth and shut it again, unsure of if he really wanted to tell you. He doubted it, but the looming anxiety that you would judge him, or use this as ammunition against him later. He fought the feelings and words came out like vomit. 

“Carol Perkins. I… I asked her out when I was a junior and she was a senior. I thought I had seen her looking at me. Billy Hargrove, who I mistook as one of the outcasts - you know Hargrove - actively anti King Steve and the institution. He told me he overheard Carol talking about wanting to go out with me. So, I asked her…” Eddie took a sharp inhale “She laughed in my face and the next day I found a dead racoon in my locker. The basketball had stolen my stash and I was out a hellfire shirt and my month’s rent…” he still had the ability to let out a dry chuckle. “But that’s the day that I said fuck it all and started doing shit just for me, so I guess in a way I should thank them. If all of that shit didn’t happen I don’t think we would have started hanging out.” He flashes you a sad smile and you don’t know if it's the joint or the beer, but all you want to do is crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss the frown off his face. 

“Anyways” Eddie cleared his throat “My turn..” Eddie’s face formed into a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever thought about sleeping with someone in our friend group.” Your face paled and you felt your stomach sink to your ass. Since senior year, you had formed fast friendships with your small circle. You thought of Eddie, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan as family rather than friends. They were there for you more than your parents were. You did everything together. Thinking of one of them in a romantic way, more than friendship, that would be insane wouldn’t it? You felt your stomach tighten in anxiety and you raised the warming can of beer to your lips. The pats of rain seemed deafening. Your gaze flicked between Eddie’s surprised face and the gloomy parking lot. 

“Okay, you can’t withhold this information from me,” Eddie said, all too excited to pick your brain. He needed to know if you had thought about him too. Fuck he thought to himself, I knew she had the hots for Harrington. Who doesn’t? His heart sank preemptively. You violently shook your head at him, followed by as many nopes as the air in your lungs could muster.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re killing me!” Eddie repositioned so he was sitting on his heels, right up and facing you, his eyes pleading. You crossed your arms, you weren’t budging. 

“What if I ask a name and you drink if it's that person? Will you answer me?” Eddie begged. 

“Never have I ever sold drugs,” your voice was pointed, hoping to get him to drink and take the hint.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Eddie prodded. “Will you drink if I say a name?” He took the joint from the ashtray and put it to your lips “Come onnnnnnnn! It’s just us, I’m not gonna say anything.” you rolled your eyes as you took the joint from Eddie and took a large inhale. He smiled at you wickedly.

“Okay, is it Byers?” you took another drag of the joint. Eddie eyed the hand holding your beer, watching for any twitches or inklings of your hand moving.

“Wheeler?” you scoffed and shook your head.

“Assuming Buckley is out of the question then… But does she know that you’ve swung both ways? She might be into it” You scoffed and hit Eddie on the shoulder while he snickered at you with a small ‘I’m kidding’

“So, then it’s obvious!” Eddie’s smile widened and your heart faltered.

“You are so in love with Steve Harrington!” Eddie closed his eyes and made fake kissy noises at you. To his surprise, he opened his eyes to see your cheeks furiously red, but the beer had not left your lap. Eddie looks at you confused.

“But that’s everyo-”

“You forgot one person, Munson.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You wanted the universe to swallow you whole. 

“Wait, me?” Eddie seemed genuinely shocked. Your eyes locked and you brought the beer up to your lips, tilted your head all the way back and finished the remainder of what was in the can. You felt your body shaking. You threw the can to the ground and looked at Eddie. Desperate for him to say something.

“Your turn.” You flashed the boy a confused look. That’s all he wanted to say. You sat frozen and overwhelmed, unsure of what to say.

“Ask me the same question I just asked you” Eddie demanded. His voice was low and grovely.

“Never have I ever thought about sleep-” You couldn’t finish the question before Eddie’s lips were on his can of beer, following your suit and finishing the rest in a large chug. Your mouth opened in awe. Before you could say anything, Eddie threw his can to the ground and lunged to you, his hands finding your fiery cheeks and lips connecting with yours. His mouth felt searing on yours, like he was welding himself to you. Your breath was instantly robbed from your lungs. You couldn’t help but fall back on the futon, Eddie’s body trapping you underneath him. You kiss him back, feverishly, worried that if Eddie moved his lips too far away from yours that he would disappear and you would never get to kiss him again.

Eddie pulled his mouth from yours and you whined in protest. Your whimper dissolved in your throat as the mophead’s soft lips made purchase with the pulse point where your ear and jaw met. You felt Eddie’s smile pressed against you as you squirmed under his touch. In a swift movement, Eddie pulled himself back against the futon and pulled you on top of him, more than happy to meet your lips again when you straddled on top of him.

“I can’t even tell you how long I have wanted to do that” Eddie panted between kisses. You moaned at his words, granting him access to discover your mouth with his tongue. His hands ghosted down the sides of your torso to your hips and you bucked at his soft touch. He hissed at the friction of your denim clad core grinding against him.

“Eddie, I…” the boy shushed you, his eyes looked up to you, impossibly dark and pleading.

“Can I take you inside, please?” Eddie groveled. You obliged him with a nod and a smile. You squealed as Eddie stood up with you in his arms and he swung the front door open. The door closed with a slam and Eddie had you pressed against the cold door, the shock eliciting a sharp hiss from you that made a knot form in Eddie’s core.

His mouth found yours again, but his kiss was frantic, a gnash of tongue and teeth that led you panting, barely able to keep up. Eddie needed to show you how bad he wanted you. Your arms migrated around his neck and hands raked through his curls at the nape of his neck. His rumbly groan into your kiss swollen lips sent sparks through your veins. Eddie mouthed at the sides of your lips and trailed down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked an indigo bruise into your skin. You sighed in pain, and then in pleasure as Eddie licked over the offended skin. He traced sloppy kisses across the old v neck t-shirt you were wearing. Eddie pulled away and looked at you and thought he could cum right there. You already looked so fucked out: skin a rosy flush, freckles on display and chest heaving with need. You leaned forward at him, desperate to feel his lips back on yours. 

“You’re perfect” Eddie whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. He swung you from the door and clumsily led you down the hallway to his room, only disconnecting from you to take short breaths. You both collapsed into the metalhead’s unmade bed. His room always felt like home to you. You had watched countless movies, read books, laughed and cried in this room. This felt like an extension of your own home; but now there was an unfamiliar threshold that you had crossed. 

Eddie pulled at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for you to remove it. You obliged him and took it off, putting your bralette on display. You felt self conscious about your underwear choice, but Eddie looked at you like you hung the moon. He sent you a wicked smile that reminded you of your friend Eddie, not this interesting stranger sat in front of you.

“So, doll. You said you had dreams about us” He cooed as he prowled towards you. You backed yourself up until you were leaning against his wall, nipples threatening to poke through the thin fabric that concealed your decency. You nodded at him, already too kiss drunk and desperate to respond. 

“Tell me what we did in your dream? What do you want me to do to you, princess?” Eddie’s growl went straight to your core and the tension you felt in your abdomen tightened impossibly.

“Everything, Eddie. Give me everything” you breathed. 

“Well, I can’t do that with these on” Eddie tisked as he played with the metal button on your jeans. “Can I take those off you, doll? I think they’d look better on the floor anyways” You whimpered a yes as Eddie expertly slid your jeans down your thighs. Eddie felt his mouth water as he drank new parts of your body in. He studied the moles and freckles that he saw leading up your thighs, just in case you changed your mind and you never wanted to do this again.

His large hands trailed up and down your bare sides and an eruption of goosebumps formed on your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Eddie pushed a greedy kiss onto your lips before pushing himself down on the bed. His pupils dilated as he leveled himself with your clothed core. 

“Eddie,” you pleaded, grabbing at the shoulders of his shirt.

“You feeling singled out, doll?” Eddie cooed as he pulled his shirt off. You had seen Eddie shirtless, plenty of times. But now, you noticed the small details. How his pecks subtly popped, dark black ink scrawled on his ribs. His skin was so pale you could see faint purple outlines of veins kissing his skin. You sat up to meet his torso, peppering it with kisses and small nibbles, feeling Eddie tensing in pleasure and hearing his soft moans as you kissed lower and lower. You grabbed for Eddie’s belt, but he grabbed your wrist in protest.

“I want to make this about you right now, doll” you pouted at his declaration. “Trust me, I’ll give you your chance to take my cock, but right now I just really need to see you - to taste you. Is that okay?” He was stern, but his eyes were soft, searching for any hesitation in your glowing eyes. You bit your lip in an anxiously excited smile. Eddie pushed you back into his pillows and he lowered himself back down to your heat. Your breathing had picked up and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Eddie set his hand on your pussy and you gasped in euphoria. Eddie’s smile put both of his dimples on display. He looked up with you in pride. He loved that he was able to make you feel this good already - fuck, he had barely touched you. With a small ‘fuck’ under his breath, he pressed the pad of his thumb into the crease where your clit rested, throbbing eagerly in anticipation. Eddie could feel how wet you were already and he couldn’t help but buck his hips into his mattress as you writhed at his touch. Eddie wished he could capture every sweet sound you were making so he could listen to you forever. He teased you by swirling tight, slow circles around your clit. He laughed when you gave him a flustered huff. You needed more, or else you might explode.

You were indulged as Eddie pulled your underwear down to reveal your waiting pussy. God, you had made a mess for him already. You wanted to cross your legs, to hide from him, but Eddie let out a pornographic moan as he spread your legs wider. You looked down to him, his brown eyes blown out, waiting for any protest before continuing. You sent him a lovestruck smile and he swiped his tongue against your slick core. Your eyes rolled back and Eddie hummed into you.

“So sweet, doll. So fucking sweet”

Eddie explored all of you with his tongue; reaching places you had never felt pleasure before. You could feel a rutting at the bottom of the bed, underscored by Eddie’s soft grunts. Whatever cool you had was fading fast; with Eddie’s assault on you, along with him chasing his own pleasure, the knot in your core was threatening to snap. You sang a chorus of pleases and yesses to the head of curls between your legs. You snaked your hand into his curls and tugged, frantically trying anything to ground yourself. Eddie groaned and pulled away from you, an almost evil smirk on his face. 

“I want you to fuck my face doll. Show me just how you like it. Use me, please.” Eddie panted at you. He stuck his tongue back onto your quivering core and you instinctively bucked your hips. Eddie’s hand grabbed the wrist that was in his hair as an encouragement to use him as leverage. He happily stuck his tongue out flat to give you the most surface to play with.

You had never made the sounds you made on Eddie’s tongue; moans were borderline screams as your whole bloodstream flushed with lava. 

“Good girl, dolly. Cum for me, please. Make yourself cum.” Eddie’s praises drove you over the edge and you felt a hot white rush flood your body. Your legs shook and your grip on Eddie’s hair loosened. Eddie continued to guide your hips in a small circular motion to guide you through your orgasm, happily lapping up all the essence you’d give him.

“Eddie, please, I need you” you had little strength in you to beg, but if you didn’t feel Eddie inside you, you thought you might die. 

“You want that, honey? You want me to fuck you?”

“Eddie, I literally haven’t wanted anything more” You knew you would chide yourself later for the desperation, but Eddie didn’t care. He fumbled with his belt as you sat yourself up. Eddie looked at you quizzically when he peeled off his jeans.

“I want to ride you please, Eddie. If… if that’s okay.” Eddie’s smile could be contested only by the cheshire cat.

“Is that what you think about? Riding me?” Eddie almost giggled in glee - you saw another flash of the boy you were so proud to call your best friend; willing to tease, but looked at you like a piece of art. You coyly shook your head. Eddie sat himself against the wall and pulled his boxers down, exposing his painfully hard cock. 

You hadn’t seen many in your life, and hardly knew what an exceptional cock was, but Eddie’s was the best you had ever seen. Length and Girth equally impressive, and a manicured bundle of hair set at the base. His upper thighs were decorated with more tattoos that you hadn’t seen before. You drank the metalhead’s body in before leaning in to touch him. It was Eddie’s turn to blush. He could tell from the shimmer in your eyes that you thought he was beautiful. 

You tentatively wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and Eddie let go a long hiss while tipping his head back. He was so close already and it took all of his strength to ground himself. He bit his bottom lip until he swore he tasted blood. He couldn’t stand to watch you pump him, in fear of finishing way too quickly. He focused on his breath while you traced his length deliciously slowly. 

“Honey, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you on top of me or else I’m not gonna make it.” Eddie let out a breathy chuckle. You swung your leg over his body and lined your entrance up with his weeping cock. He grabbed his base and guided his head through your slick folds - wet enough to lubricate his entrance. You looked to Eddie for permission to sink onto him and both of your chests wracked out loud moans as you fully sheathed him inside you. You stilled, getting used to the stretch; you leaned into Eddie’s pale torso, showering kisses across his chest and neck. His large hands captured your cheeks and he pulled you into a kiss.

Something was different. Your kisses were desperate, explorative before. But you felt Eddie’s desire and longing for you. He told you with every move of his mouth how much you meant to him, how beautiful he thought you were and how much he wanted to spend all of his time with you. Your heart squeezed and you thought it may explode. Eddie pulled his mouth away from yours and steadied his hands on your hips in a tight grip. You watched Eddie concentrate while he looked at his dick sinking out of your cunt and disappearing into you again. Your heart flipped looking at his concentration. Eddie's brows were furrowed and his tongue poked out of his bottom lip - like it did most times he was deep in concentration. There was a sheen of sweat that formed on his forehead, making some of his rogue curls stick to his skin. He looked unreal, one of the most beautiful things you had seen in your life. Eddie bucked into you at an increasing pace, hitting spots that you could only wish your own fingers could reach. The boy’s pink lips parted in ecstasy as he began to fuck up into you harder.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna.. I-”

You planted your hands on Eddie's chest and grinded down on his hips, stilling his thrusts. His eyes flew open at you and he dug small crescent shapes into your sides. He choked out a pornographic sob as you rolled your hips. The slick of your own wetness added extra friction to Eddie’s abdomen, hurdling you closer to another orgasm. You grabbed Eddie’s chin, desperate to watch him unravel for you.

“Cum for me Eddie, I need to feel you” you tried to sound forceful and dominating, but with your own finish impending, you could barely get the words out. Tears pricked Eddie’s cheeks as waves of pleasure wracked his body. You could feel him twitching inside of you and it made your legs begin to shake. Suddenly, Eddie’s grip hardened and allowed him to fuck up into you, sending aftershocks through his own body and throwing you over the edge yet again. 

You screamed out in pure pleasure, no other place for all the energy in your body to get out. You shook around Eddie as his face distorted in pleasure and overstimulation. You collapsed onto his chest, breathing matching Eddie’s hard pants. He pulled you over to his side with praises.

You both quieted and sat in contemplative silence. The only sound was the pounding rain continuing its barrage on Hawkins.

“Well?” Eddie finally broke the silence “Was it as good as you imagined it would be?” You rolled your eyes as he poked at your side. 

“I’m never telling you anything ever again, Munson,” you joked. He took a dramatic breath and pretended to be offended.

“Well I never! You’re supposed to tell your boyfriend everything!” 

“Boyfriend eh?” You blushed.

“Well, I feel at this point it’s only natural.” Eddie joked. He kissed you softly, carefully, as if your lips were rose petals. “And, I know we’re past playing never have I ever, but when I thought about you, it always ended up with you being my girlfriend.” Eddie shot you a nervous smile. His cheeks grew red. 

“Well, I did say give me everything, didn’t I?”

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[maxillis]

just got to wednesday in my newest disco elysium run and got kim's "i'm sorry, harry. i'm so sorry" line and i'm gonna be real i forgot he said that. i forgot he sat with you for an hour and a half waiting for you to accept the inevitably true fact that you had a messy, loud suicide run across the bay and crashed your car into the ice where you will never, ever be able to retrieve it. and you don't have your badge. or your gun. and all you could think to do while you waited for the tide to go out was whistle. and he whistled with you. and when you realized what you did, and you were overcome with the enormity of your fuck-ups, he told you he was sorry. sorry that you have nothing else anymore but this job and this case, sorry that your décomptage (very understandably) left you deserted while you were spinning around in crash-out paradise, sorry that you didn't want to be this kind of animal anymore, sorry that you thought jumping the water lock bridge was the logical thing to do in that moment. as much as kim had been mostly aware of harry's blackout and everything that implied, don't tell me that seeing the sunken MC didn't immediately give him a sudden and whole vision that harry had also been wronged and put at the impossible end of a rope lit on fire and never fully extinguished. and harry let himself burn all the way down. the man thinks he's the sunset but he's the dying embers of an arsony charge, and kim is there soon enough to feel the warmth but too late to deny that the house isn't anything anymore but a pile of charred planks and nails. and he sees the human pieces left in the wreckage. and kim calls him harry instead of detective.

[itneverendshere]

How about rafe defending bitchy!pogue!reader when one of his kooks friends talks badly behind her back

brusing knuckles for you - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue x rafe warnings: violence; blood.

Before you, Rafe did this shit every other night.

Kook parties. Boat decks. Someone’s expensive beach house with the same recycled playlist and overpriced liquor that their parents overlooked was gone. Rafe showed up, dapped hands, passed joints, handed off baggies, and stayed just long enough to flex before fucking off somewhere darker.

Since you, since your eyes rolled at his first nasty comment and your mouth bit harder than any line he’d ever fed, Rafe started seeing it all for what it was.

Pathetic. Hollow. Fucked.

He used to laugh with them, now he counted the minutes 'til he could leave. The only reason he even showed up tonight was to sell, get rid of the stash, in and out.

It’s always the same type, over-gelled hair, boat shoes, too much confidence for someone who’s never been punched in the mouth. They buy from Rafe, and like to think that gives them some pass, just because he hasn’t decked them yet.

You aren’t there, and that’s why they feel bold. You cracked him open, ruined him for anyone else — and they hated you for it. So when one of them made the mistake, letting your name slip between his teeth, laced with that sleezy disrespect, Rafe didn’t think.

“She’s got a mouth on her,” one of them says, tossing a beer can toward the fire. “Wouldn’t last two seconds on this side if she didn’t have your dick in her throat.”

The laugh that followed was nervous.

Because everyone saw Rafe, back turned, shoulders stiff, head cocked like he needed confirmation.

Maybe he didn’t hear—wrong.

Rafe turned.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Heads turned, conversations died mid-laugh. He didn’t repeat himself or give the guy a chance to explain.

One second, beer bottle in hand, still listening to whatever bullshit story was being told — the next, Rafe had the guy by the collar, slammed into the side of a teakwood bar, knocking a crystal decanter off with a crash.

He’d been waiting for this exact moment to come loose. His fist connected before anyone could blink. Knuckle to cheekbone. The dude dropped like a stone, knees folding in. He let out a groan and rolled, blood already smearing across his lips, but Rafe didn’t stop.

Rafe straddled him and swung again. “You think you can talk about her?”

Blood was on his ring before it hit the floor. No one rushed to help, they never did when it was Rafe. 

Crack.

He was somewhere deep and dark and loud in his head, where all he could hear was your name said in that tone, like you were something dirty. Like they hadn’t seen you break boys twice their size with a single look.

Another hit.

The guy’s arms came up to shield his face, but it was too late for that. One eye already swelling shut, nose crooked, mouth full of blood and teeth — if they were still intact.

“You think you’re untouchable?” Rafe spat, gripping his collar and slamming his head back into the dirt.

“RAFE!”

That was Topper. Panicked.

But Rafe didn’t stop.

“You talk about her again,” He growled, savage, “You breathe about her again, and I swear to God—”

Another punch, this one landed with a sickening crunch.

“I will drag you behind my fucking boat and watch you drown.”

“Get him off!” Kelce barked. “Now, now—fucking now, man, someone’s calling the cops!”

Topper didn’t wait. He grabbed Rafe from behind, arms around his chest in a full-on chokehold. Kelce dove for his legs, dragging him away from the bloodied guy who was now twitching in the grass, barely conscious.

He thrashed. Snarled. “Let me go!” He kicked and elbowed. “I’m not fucking done!”

“You are, man!” Topper grunted, struggling to hold him. “You're done. You hear me?”

“Someone’s on the phone, bro,” Kelce added, panting. “Sheriff. Fucking Ward’s probably gonna hear about this by morning.”

The name snapped something in Rafe.

He stilled, chest heaving. Blood on his hands, knuckles split to hell. Shirt stained, hair sticking to his forehead; eyes still locked on the guy crumpled in the dirt.

He wasn’t moving much anymore, only groaning. 

Topper slowly let him go. Kelce stepped back like Rafe might lunge again, he didn’t.

The others—the ones who’d been watching, pretended not to stare. All their smug little grins were gone now. They looked terrified.

Good.

Rafe spit onto the ground, turned on his heel, and started walking.

“Where the hell are you going?” Topper called.

Rafe didn’t answer.

He pulled his phone out, blood smeared across the screen.

Your Contact: Baby 🖕🏽

He hit cal and when you picked up, he just said: “Come get me.”

Twenty minutes later, you pulled up to the old church parking lot — not bothering to park straight — and spotted him immediately.

Slouched on the curb, head tilted back like he was catching his breath, shirt ripped at the collar.

“You better be dying,” you snapped. “Rafe—”

You slammed your door and jogged over, irritation draining out of you with every step.

There was blood everywhere. His hands, his neck, and speckled down his jaw like paint splatter. Dried across his shirt in big, smeared patches. His knuckles were busted open, raw and red.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, already dropping to your knees in front of him. “Baby?! What the fuck happened?”

Your hands were all over him — under his chin, across his cheeks, brushing back his hair to check for cuts. He didn’t move, only looked down at you with that crooked, stupid grin.

“‘S not mine,” he murmured, lips twitching.

You blinked. “What?”

“The blood. It’s not mine.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Then whose—wait. What did you do?”

Rafe shrugged, as if he hadn’t just called you out of bed covered in someone else’s blood. 

“You absolute maniac,” you hissed, still checking him over, hands pressed to his sides, his chest. “I swear to God, if you broke your ribs again—”

“Didn’t,” he muttered. “Promise.”

You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you.

He looked like he'd crawled out of a bar fight in hell and he was grinning. You ran a hand through your hair, heart pounding now that the adrenaline had caught up.

“Who the fuck did you hit?”

He didn’t answer, only leaned forward until his forehead bumped yours, nose brushing your cheek, breath still fast.

You pulled back, eyes narrowing. “Rafe.”

He sighed, gaze dropping to your mouth. “‘S not important.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He paused, licked the blood off his bottom lip, then looked up at you again.

“I told you not to get into more fights.”

“He talked about you.”

Your spine straightened. “Said what, exactly?”

“Some stupid shit,” Rafe continued. “Didn’t even look nervous when he said it.” He tilted his head, lip curling. “That’s what got me.”

“Rafe…”

“I warned them. You’re the one thing I don’t fuckin’ play about.”

You exhaled hard, knowing you should’ve been madder, screaming at him for being reckless, for catching a case over a bunch of privileged, weak-ass dickheads.

“If the cops show up, if Ward hears about it, if—”

“I don’t care.” he cut in.

You stood, swearing under your breath, pacing for half a second before spinning back to him. “You can’t do shit like this, Rafe." 

You met his gaze again.

“I don’t care,” Rafe repeated. “I’m not losin’ sleep over this shit. The way he said it? The tone—”

His voice broke off, jaw working, biting the rest of it back.

You stopped in front of him again. He was already reaching for you, smearing a little blood on your hoodie, when his fingers curled into the fabric at your waist.

“C’mere.”

You sighed — loud, dramatic — pretending you were still mad, moving anyway, sliding into his lap, knees on either side of him, your hands coming up to hold his face.

It was hard to tell if you were furious or flattered.

“Fucking menace,” you whispered, “Aren’t you Country Club?”

“Yeah.” Rafe’s hands gripped your thighs. “Yours, though.”

Your mouths met full of breathy curses, and so fucking stupid—because you could still taste the iron on his lips, feel the dried grit on his skin—but neither of you cared.

Rafe groaned into it, hands sliding under the hem of your jacket, gripping your waist.

“God,” he muttered against your mouth, biting softly at your lower lip. “Missed you.”

You laughed through your nose. “You left two hours ago.”

"I'm aware."

Your fingers ghosted down his chest, his breath hitched when you dragged your nails against his ribs, that sick little part of you finding it incredibly attractive that he nearly pummeled a guy into unconsciousness because of you.

Rafe’s head dropped back against the car behind him, lips parted, lashes low. His chest was rising, and fuck, he loved the way you looked at him like this.

Possessive. Wild, knowing you’d ruin a man the same way he just did.

“You’re such a psycho,” you breathed, pressing kisses along his jaw.

“Mmm,” he hummed, grinning. “Perfect match, then.”

You were dragging your mouth down his throat, licking over a spot that made him jolt when headlights swept across the lot.

You barely had time to lift your head before:

“Are you—oh my fucking God.”

Topper’s voice cracked. Kelce followed a second later, stumbling out of his truck, wishing he hadn’t seen what he just saw.

“Bro!” Kelce pointed, horrified. “You’re still covered in blood, and you’re—what is happening?!”

You blinked, still straddling Rafe, breathless.

“Hi,” you said flatly.

“Hi?” Topper screeched. “You could’ve gotten arrested again, and you’re out here sucking face!”

“I was checking for a concussion, asshat.”

Rafe snorted under you, not planning to let you go. 

“You’re fucking insane,” Kelce hissed, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re stained with someone’s blood. Is it still warm? I feel like it’s still warm.”

He looked between the two of you, then the red smeared down Rafe’s clothes.

“None of that’s yours.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping another streak from his jaw with your thumb.

“I’ve been asking him that for fifteen minutes.”

“Guy didn’t touch me. I told you.”

 “You bathed in him.”

Rafe smirked up at them, unbothered. “Handled it.”

You shrugged. “He deserved it.”

Topper whipped his head toward you.

“You’re not helping.”

You leaned down again, brushing your nose against Rafe’s.

“Told you you didn’t need to fight over me.”

He snorted, his hands sliding lower on your waist.

“Told you I was gonna do it anyway.”

The two of you were back at it again in seconds—his mouth on yours. He wished he could feel your fingers in his hair again, how you checked him like your life depended on it. At least, he can taste you, all sleepy and sugar-laced from the gum you popped in the car. 

“Okay, okay,” Topper barked, throwing his hands in the air. “We get it. You’re in love and sick in the head. Can we please go before the cops show up?"

You sighed dramatically and turned your head to look at them, still perched in Rafe’s lap like the most unbothered girlfriend on earth.

“Is the guy dead?”

“No,” Topper said, clearly trying not to scream. “But the cops are looking. Someone called it in.”

You tensed slightly. Rafe didn’t.

“Ward?”

Topper nodded grimly.

“Yeah. He’s gonna lose it, dude. You think he’s gonna clean up another mess like this?”

Rafe sighed. “He will.”

You gave him a look, reading the bitterness behind that smugness, that wasn’t confidence, only detachment.

The kind of fuck-it-all attitude only rich boys who hate their fathers get to wear.

You ran your fingers over his split knuckles.

“You need to get this cleaned before it scars.”

Rafe caught your hand and brought it to his mouth, lips brushing your pulse. “You like my scars.”

You sighed and reluctantly pulled back from your boyfriend, who looked about two seconds from dragging you into the backseat.

“You driving?” you asked him.

Rafe, very seriously, pointed to his bloody hands.

“Probably shouldn’t touch the steering wheel.”

Kelce muttered, “No shit, Hannibal.”

You sighed and dragging your sleeve across Rafe’s jaw to wipe another streak of blood away. You rolled your eyes and stood up, tugging him by the hoodie sleeve.

“Let’s go, Country Club."

Rafe followed, all long limbs and smug grins, draping his arm around your shoulder like he hadn't just left a kid with a shattered face and a probable concussion.

Topper groaned as he unlocked his car.

“This is why I drink.”

You opened your own car door, pausing long enough to toss over your shoulder.

“Don’t be mad he didn’t crawl in your lap.”

Rafe snorted so hard he nearly tripped.

God, he fucking loved you.

Your hair swung over your shoulder as you slid into the driver’s seat, he loved you looked over your shoulder with that shit eating smirk and no apology. His shit didn’t faze you, you knew exactly who he was — mess, mood swings and all — and still handed him the aux cord, choosing him every time.

He took the passenger’s seat and you reached across to buckle him in because his fingers were too busted up to do it himself.

It should’ve felt embarrassing.

It didn’t.

You were the only one he let do this shit. Baby him. Touch him like he wasn’t a walking red flag. Call him out and call him yours in the same breath.

He didn’t realize how fucked he was over you until moments like this.

It wasn’t the jealousy that scared him — he welcomed that.

Rafe enjoyed knowing he’d bleed for you, that someone breathing your name wrong made something feral snap inside him. When you cleaned him up and cursed at him under your breath like you’d rather die than admit you were worried sick.

You made him feel safe, even from himself.

He cracked an eye open and turned to look at you, the dashboard lights casting a glow across your face, that annoyed little pout you always wore when you were pretending not to be scared for him.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice scratchy.

You didn’t glance over.

“If you ask for road head right now, I swear to God.”

Rafe chuckled.

“No..." He leaned over and kissed your shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”

You flicked your turn signal. “You act like I had a choice.”

You finally looked at him and in that second — in the corner of your eye, in the curve of your frown softening — he felt it. That wrecked, awful, beautiful love that kept him coming undone over and over.

Rafe Cameron wasn’t sure he believed in God. But if he did, she was driving a beat-up Jeep and threatening to beat his ass.

[cherrygirlfriend]

── MANCHILD ♡

♡ pairing: situationship!rafe x reader

♡ summary: your situationship acts like a manchild.

♡ warnings / tags: dumb man!

♡ author's note: drinking the new celsius flavor! based on manchild by sabrina carpenter <3

RAFE MASTERLIST ♡

you laid in your best friend's bed, your brows furrowed as you stared at the 'read' mark under the message you'd sent to rafe.

do you wanna come over tonight?

read.

you locked your phone and grabbed one of elle's throw pillows, shoving your face into the soft faux-fur and letting out a muffled scream. elle chuckled, cocking her head to the side.

"is he ignoring you again?"

"no..." you mumbled, only for your best friend to raise her brows, telling you that she didn't believe anything you said, "alright, he's ignoring me again..." you sighed. elle walked over to the bed, sitting down right next to you, "i told you, you need to cut him off. he's just gonna keep stringing you along."

"he's just such a..."

"manchild?"

elle wasn't wrong; rafe always treated you like you were disposable, like you didn't really matter. your best friend poured vodka into two shot glasses, holding one out for you to take, "we're gonna have a blast tonight. and you're gonna stop thinking about that dickhead."

after taking a deep breath, you finally picked up the shot meant for you, and after clinking your small glasses together, you downed the liquid, doing your best to ignore the way it was burning your throat.

your head was already swimming with the force of alcohol when you got to the club, your body pretty much moving without your brain giving it any commands, but all that mattered to you was that you felt good. you weren't thinking about rafe, your phone buried in your purse...

but it felt like your heart stopped the moment you saw them.

rafe's arms were around a random girl's waist, his head nuzzling her shoulder, and you could picture what he was whispering into the girl's ear "god, you're gorgeous..." "i need you..." "you should come home with me but i need you..." all the words he said to you. when you were together, all rafe paid attention to was his computer. but now, all his attention was on the stranger.

you took in a deep breath, ignoring the girl who was practically glued to rafe, and made your way to him. you stood in his eye-line, your arms crossed; you felt an idiot to be openly jealous like this but if he was going to be a douche may as well out do the crazy game. the girl stiffened in her seat as she caught you in staring.

rafe pulled away from her the second his eyes met yours. recoiling from her touch, his eyes widening. the boy’s expression quickly turned arrogant, as usual, his brow quirking as he sized you up.

"hi there." you smiled, your grin so painfully big that it was borderline psychotic. "what are you doing here?" rafe asked through gritted teeth, a sickeningly sweet smile returning your lips.

"what? you didn't miss me? didn't want me to come here?" you cocked your head to the side, "last time i checked this was a public event. maybe you should've stayed home if you didn't want someone to see you."

neither of you noticed when the girl faded into the background, rafe being too busy staring daggers at you, "you said your phone was broken. i guess that was a lie." your words made rafe scoff, "god, you're stupid, and slow, and useless.. i can't believe i let you trap me."

"wasn't that hard. i think you'd give it up for a fly if it had a dick."

the smack you delivered onto rafe's cheek echoed around the club "i never wanna see you again." you stated before turning around and walking away.

only for you to make out with him in the men's bathroom an hour later.

TAGLIST: @raahosh, @nemesyaaa, @purpleplumpudding, @littlelamy, @dollyfiles, @esotericcangel, @mattyskies, @bakugouswaif, @nonietosay, @my-name-is-baby, @tinythebunni, @fratbrochrisgf, @ariieeesworld, @silkylovey, @izumis-salty-penis, @cameronsbabydoll, @love-ella333, @haylorbestie,

[demie90s]

You Can’t Take Her Nowhere

UConn x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Every team has that one player. That’s you. Bold. Shameless. Unfiltered.

ɢᴇɴ��ᴇ: crack, chaos, thirst, unapologetic sapphic horniness

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: excessive flirtation, suggestive content, wild one-liners, Geno stress levels dangerously high

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 0.6k

I don’t flirt quietly. Never have. Never will. If I think you’re fine, I’m saying it—with my full chest, mic’d up or not. And if you’re on the court with me? Even worse. I’ll call a screen and still find a way to compliment your thighs. I once told a ref he looked like he had a crush on me mid free throw. He missed the call completely. Geno was furious. I winked.

At practice, I’ve been threatened with cones. At games, the student section either worships me or reports me. There’s no in-between. The team just lets me talk now—mostly because there’s no stopping it, and half the time I back it up with twenty points and a viral moment. The camera loves me. The mic loves me. I love her.

And by her, I mean whoever I’ve decided to obsess over that week.

Flau’jae once bit her lip while stretching pre-game and I moaned loud enough that the opposing team asked if I was okay. Angel winked at me at tip-off and I deadass fumbled the ball. Paige adjusted her jersey in front of me and I said, “Goddamn, let me be the elastic.”

They don’t take me seriously. Not until halftime.

That’s when they roll the locker room feed and forget the audio’s still hot. I don’t say anything too crazy—until I do. Like when we played LSU and I looked around calm as hell, mid-taping my ankle, and said, “I could take Angel from the back while Flau’jae sits on my face and still have the stamina to run zone defense.” The camera guy choked. Nika shrieked. Geno left the room and never came back.

I’ve been warned. I’ve been benched. I’ve been caught blowing kisses during a national anthem. But the thing is? I mean every damn word I say.

Like when I told KK in the middle of a timeout, “Baby, if you hit that three, I’m folding your jersey and mine and using them both to tie you to the hotel headboard.” She missed. Came back next play and sank it with her tongue sticking out at me. I stood up. Clapped once. “That’s my girl!” Azzi nearly passed out laughing.

The staff doesn’t know what to do with me. Geno calls me “a walking HR violation.” The media calls me unpredictable. Twitter calls me iconic. All I know is, when Paige does that little thing with her wrist, the one that shows off the vein while she dribbles? I black out a little. I once bit my lip so hard it bled.

Last week, they mic’d me up again. Said they wanted “authentic energy.” Bad idea. At the free throw line, I leaned over to Angel Reese and whispered, “You smell like coconut oil and disrespect, and I’d ruin both of us if you let me.” She missed the shot. I blew her a kiss. We won by twenty.

Post-game, I told the sideline reporter she looked “good enough to bench press,” and when she asked what I attributed our fourth-quarter run to, I said, “Horny aggression.” KK walked away mid-interview. Paige slapped the back of my head.

But the crowd? Ate it up.

Geno pulled me aside after. Looked me dead in the eye and said, “You’re gonna be the reason I go bald.” I smiled and said, “At least I’m giving them a show.” He shook his head, but he didn’t argue.

Because deep down, he knows—They can’t take me nowhere.

And that’s exactly why they keep bringing me.

I knew I was getting on her nerves. That was half the fun.

Inês was always so damn composed—soft voice, tight ponytail, eyes that darted everywhere but mine when I got too close. And maybe it was because she was so shy, so serious, so put-together… that I couldn’t help myself. I liked the way she tensed when I entered the room. I liked the challenge.

She looked real good that day. Hair braided back, sleeves pushed up, legs tucked under her during stretches. And I don’t care who was around—when someone looks that fine, I’m gonna notice. Loudly.

“I swear, if I ever got the chance…” I muttered to myself, not loud enough for anyone but Azzi to hear. She turned around slow, eyes wide like girl please. I shrugged. “She’s damn fine. That’s all I’m saying.”

But Inês must’ve caught the vibe, because next thing I knew, she was standing, arms crossed, giving me a look like she was trying to burn a hole through my forehead.

“You’re outta pocket,” she said. Not yelling. Not playful either. Somewhere in between. Like she didn’t know whether to cuss me out or blush.

I grinned and pushed up from the floor, slow and easy. “I’ve been called worse.”

She rolled her eyes and started walking off, but I didn’t let it end like that. I followed. Not too close. Just enough to make her feel it.

“You know I’m not like that with everybody, right?” I said. “I don’t play like this for fun. You’re different.”

She stopped. Just a few feet from the lockers. Didn’t turn. I stepped closer, real gentle. Nothing wild. Nothing invasive.

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. But I’m not about to lie either,” I said, voice dropping just enough. “You’re fine, Inês. And if you ever gave me the green light, you wouldn’t regret it.”

She finally turned her head a little, eyes cutting over to me—but not sharp this time. Just curious. A little confused. Maybe a little caught.

I didn’t push. Just stepped in, leaned down slow, and kissed the corner of her mouth. Not cocky. Not dramatic. Just a promise. Just enough.

Then I smiled, brushed her arm with the back of my hand, and walked off like I hadn’t just changed the way she’d look at me forever.

She didn’t say anything. But she didn’t stop me either.

And I knew damn well she’d be thinking about that kiss all day.

@draculara-vonvamp @non3ofurbusiness @toorealrai

[reveriebae]

Hi! I just wanted to say I adore your writing—especially the smut pieces you’ve done inspired by Daniel di Angelo’s songs. You capture the vibe of his music so perfectly, it’s honestly addictive 🔥

If you’re ever taking requests, I’d love to see you do something based on his song “Promiscuity.” It’s got such a sexy, messy, intense energy, and I just know you'd bring it to life in the most delicious way 😩🖤

Thank you for sharing your amazing work—you're such an inspiration!

REQUESTING PROMISCUITY IS SUCH AN EVIL🫠🫠 but sure, baby! I'll give you what you want😏

Promiscuity

pairing(s) : Yunho x reader

word count : 2146

summary : He cheated. You left. But you still came back—and Yunho makes sure you never forget why.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Heavy toxic relationship dynamics, Cheating (referenced but impactful), Emotional manipulation, Degradation + possessiveness, Dubious consent tones (power imbalance, pressure), Crying during sex, Verbal cruelty, Rough sex, choking (consensual but intense), Mental/emotional whiplash. Let me know if I missed anything!

Minors do not interact, 21 only!!

🪐smut under the cut 🪐

The hallway smells like someone’s leftover takeout and cheap weed, and the longer you stand in front of Yunho’s door, the more you hate yourself.

You should turn around.

You should delete his number. Block him for good. Go home, put on a face mask, and pretend like he never turned your entire spine to liquid with one look.

But here you are—three months, two breakdowns, and one fucked-up rebound later—wearing the short black dress you know he likes, standing at his door like you didn’t swear you'd never do this again.

The music thumps faintly from inside. Of course there’s music. Of course it sounds like something someone would fuck to.

You lift your hand to knock.

The door swings open before you can touch it.

And there he is.

Yunho.

Leaning against the frame, shirtless, a drink in one hand, eyes scanning you so slowly it makes your stomach tighten. His mouth curves into a slow, arrogant smile.

“Damn,” he hums, voice low and thick like honey poured over rust. “You look good when you’re lying to yourself.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“You told all your little friends you were done with me, right?” His head tilts, tongue running over his bottom lip. “And yet—here you are. Middle of the night. Wearing that.”

You should slap him. You should walk away.

Instead, you cross your arms and lie.

“I came to talk.”

He laughs.

“Yeah? That what we’re calling it now?”

He steps aside, giving you just enough space to walk in, but not without brushing your hip with his. You feel the heat of his bare chest even through the thick air, feel his eyes burn through the back of your dress as you step inside.

Same apartment. Same dim lights. Same scent—him. Warm cologne and smoke and something darker.

You turn to face him.

“Why her?” you whisper. “Out of all people—you fucked my friend.”

He shrugs, walking to the counter and setting his drink down like you didn’t just drag your shattered pride into his living room.

“You weren’t around. She was.”

“That’s your excuse?”

“No excuses.” He leans against the counter, jaw tight. “I’m just not gonna lie to you.”

You swallow hard. Your throat aches.

“She told me everything,” you say, quieter now. “Every filthy little thing you did to her.”

He meets your gaze. Unflinching. Unapologetic.

Then he says it—just one line, but it carves through you.

“Did she tell you I moaned your name when I came?”

Your chest tightens. You can’t breathe. You want to slap him, scream, cry—leave.

But you don’t move.

He steps closer, voice dropping an octave. “Hate me all you want, baby. But I’m still the only one who knows how to make your legs shake just from kissing your neck.”

Your lip trembles. You hate that he’s right. You hate how fast your body reacts to him. You hate yourself for wanting him even now.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“Then leave.”

You hesitate. He sees it. He knows he’s already won.

But just when you turn toward the door, he speaks again.

“I left the bedroom lights on.”

A pause.

“For you.”

You don’t speak when he closes the door behind you.

You just stand there, jaw locked, eyes burning—and legs already too warm.

Yunho doesn’t rush. He never does. He moves like he knows time bends for him. Like no matter how angry you get, how many times you swear him off, you’ll always come back just like this—silently begging to be ruined.

“You wore perfume,” he murmurs behind you, voice dragging over your spine like silk. “Didn’t have to. I already know how you taste.”

You whirl around. “Fuck you.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “You keep saying that like it’s not exactly what you came here to do.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond.

His hand is on your jaw before you can breathe—tilting your face up, backing you into the wall with all the gentleness of a warning shot.

“You’re mad,” he whispers, brushing your lips. “But not enough to leave.”

Your pulse races. You hate how his voice wraps around your gut, how your thighs tighten with every word. He leans in closer, forehead to yours, and murmurs like a threat:

“You should’ve slammed the door in my face the second I opened it, angel. But you didn’t. You looked me in the eye… and stayed.”

“I’m—” Your voice cracks. “I’m not here to sleep with you.”

He hums, eyes dropping to your mouth. “Then why are you already wet?”

You gasp, and that’s all he needs. His mouth crashes against yours—hot and vicious and impossibly slow at the same time. He kisses you like he owns you. Like he’s reminding your body who it belongs to even if your heart’s still bleeding.

His hands slide down, gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist by instinct.

“I fucked her,” he mutters against your mouth, dragging your back along the hallway wall as he carries you. “But she couldn’t take me like you do. Couldn’t look me in the eye when I broke her open.”

“Shut the fuck up—”

“No.” He pushes you into the bedroom. “You want honesty, right? Thought you liked it when I told you exactly what I did.”

The mattress meets your back before you can answer. His hand wraps around your throat—not tight, just enough to make you feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“You came here because you missed how it feels to be used.” He bites your lip. “Admit it.”

You shake your head, eyes glassy. “No, I didn’t—”

His thumb presses against your lips. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

You have no answer. You don’t need one.

Because your hands are already pulling at his sweatpants. Because your hips are already arching. Because your pride never stood a chance the moment he said your name.

“Take it off,” he growls, yanking your dress up your thighs. “All of it.”

You hesitate.

Wrong move.

Yunho smirks, hand sliding down to cup you over your panties. You jolt, gasping, and he watches your face like it’s his favorite show.

“I said take it off. Or I’ll fuck you with it on and rip it off later.”

Your fingers fly to the straps.

The dress hits the floor with a soft sound, but the silence afterward is louder.

Yunho takes a step back.

His eyes sweep over your body—your bare skin under the glow of those bedroom lights he “left on for you”—like he’s starving and you’re already halfway chewed.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You really let me fuck that up.”

You blink. “What?”

“This.” He nods at you—at your curves, your flushed chest, the way your nipples harden under his gaze. “You really let me go fuck someone else when this was mine?”

You scoff. “You fucked her while I was yours.”

He grins. “Still are.”

He doesn’t give you time to argue.

He kneels between your legs like worship, then spreads them apart like vengeance. His hand slides up your inner thigh, slow enough to make you twitch.

“Can’t even look me in the eye,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles over your soaked panties. “But your pussy’s screaming for me.”

“Yunho—”

“Shh.” He hooks a finger around the waistband and pulls them off in one smooth, greedy motion. “Open wider.”

You do.

You always do.

He groans the second he sees you.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “Still so perfect.”

His mouth replaces his fingers without warning—hot, slow, deliberate. He eats you out like he’s got time to kill and demons to feed. Licks slow and wide, then short and fast, tongue curling right against the spot that makes your vision go white.

Your hands fly into his hair. He groans when you tug, eyes rolling up to look at you, fucked out and gasping, chest heaving like a whore in a dream.

“Don’t stop—oh my god, Yunho—”

He pulls back, lips glistening, jaw sharp enough to cut.

“I didn’t say you could cum.”

You stare at him, blinking through the haze. “W-What?”

“I said you missed me.” His hand slides up your torso, thumb brushing your nipple. “But you didn’t say it with your mouth yet.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“And you’re dripping for it.” He crawls back over you, cock thick and heavy between your legs now. “Say it.”

“No.”

He nudges the tip against your entrance, not pushing in—just threatening to. Your breath catches. Your legs tremble.

“Say you missed this dick,” he says, voice low and lethal. “Or I’ll make you sit on it and fuck yourself while I watch.”

Your pride burns.

Your body wins.

“…I missed it.”

He smiles. Not sweet. Not kind. Dangerous.

“How much?”

You stare at him—this man who destroyed you, ruined your trust, twisted your sanity—and you say the one thing you swore you wouldn’t:

“Enough to let you ruin me again.”

His cock slams into you.

No warning. No hesitation.

You scream—half from shock, half from the overwhelming stretch—and he groans like a demon exorcised.

“Shit—tight as ever. You missed this.”

He thrusts again. Deeper.

Your back arches, hands scrambling for the sheets as he picks up pace, rough and relentless, fucking you like he’s reclaiming territory that never stopped being his.

“Did she scream like this?” you choke out, head thrown back.

He laughs—a low, taunting thing.

“She cried,” he says, fucking into you harder, “but not for the same reason you do.”

You moan, hands clawing at his back. His lips find your throat.

“No one fits me like you do,” he growls. “And you fucking know it.”

His grip bruises your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he keeps slamming into you—like he’s chasing the version of himself you once trusted and destroying it in your cunt instead.

“You think I feel guilty?” he pants against your mouth, sweat slick between your bodies. “You think I lost sleep?”

Your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You said you loved me,” you choke out.

He smirks.

“I do. But I never said I was good at it.”

Your body jolts with the force of his next thrust. You’re unraveling, but you don’t stop him. You couldn’t if you tried.

“Do you know how hard it is not to fuck you every night?” he growls, voice gravel. “But you wanna cry about one girl? One night?”

You gasp when he grabs your throat again, not tight, just enough to trap the heat between your thighs and your shame.

“I break your trust once,” he whispers, hips still rolling deep inside you, “but you still came back to get broken again.”

“Yunho—!”

He leans in closer, tongue teasing the shell of your ear.

“You love it. You love being the one I come back to after I fuck other girls. You love knowing none of them scream for me like you do.”

A tear slips from your eye, and he groans.

“Fuck, baby… are you crying?”

He slows down, thrusts deep and deliberate now—meant to hurt and please all at once. Meant to make you feel every single inch of how much you hate loving him.

“You gonna cum for me now?” he whispers against your lips. “Gonna let me fuck the pain out of you like I always do?”

You nod, barely able to speak. “Y-Yeah, please—”

“Say it.”

“I wanna cum,” you sob. “I wanna cum so bad.”

He kisses you like a war—biting, sucking, ruining.

“Then cum for me, angel. Cum on the same cock that fucked your friend—because it’s still yours.”

You break.

Your body tenses, pleasure crashing like a scream through your core as you shake in his grip, crying and moaning into his shoulder, completely wrecked.

And Yunho doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it—chasing his own high now, muttering filth against your neck.

“This pussy,” he pants, “is fucking mine. I don’t care who else I touch, I always think about you. About this tight little hole—fuck—mine.”

He buries himself to the hilt, cumming hard with a guttural groan, body jerking into yours.

The room goes quiet except for the sound of both of you trying to breathe again. His cum starts dripping out of you while he’s still buried inside.

But he doesn’t move.

He kisses you—this time, soft.

Like none of it just happened.

Like your heart isn’t on the floor again.

[fandomlit]

goddess (spencer agnew x reader)

summary (requested by anon) the smosh cast and crew decide to add karaoke into their 12-hour charity stream, and they manage to convince you to sing. your performance of goddess by laufey floors your friends and completely stuns spencer, sending his feeling for you into a deeper spiral..

warning swearing

a/n in the og request it mentioned a different laufey song but this one has been stuck in my head for WEEKSSS so i hope that alright!!! also feel free to send in more requests y'all <3

gif cred belongs to @captainhaisley

"and now," shayne announced, "we welcome everyone to the part of the stream where we make the cast and crew the most uncomfortable. that's right, it's time for karaoke!" the cast cheered from the couches on either side of shayne, who was speaking into one of the karaoke microphones. "this one is a little more high stakes—as you can see, we have our participants here on camera with us! this is just because of the setup we have for the next part of the stream, convenience is everything, but it also lets you see everyone's reactions.” everyone made faces behind him. “as always, you can leave requests in the chat, but let's go ahead and get started."

they jumped right into it, starting with shayne singing 'everybody wants to rule the world', then chanse hitting his rendition of 'careless whisper' that had angela literally floored by, then angela—as soon as she was off the floor—duetting gaston with amanda that had everyone in tears. as it continued, it got crazier and funnier, with a few more serious performances sprinkled in. after chanse and courtney did an amazingly dramatic and hysterical rendition of 'breaking free', there was a lull where no one was lined up to go next and they started volunteering each other for the task.

angela broke a joking fight between spencer and shayne by pointing behind one of the cameras. "i volunteer y/n!"

their gazes whipped off-stage as some crew members voiced their agreements.

“oh, i don’t know..,” your voice chuckled awkwardly from off camera.

“c’mon! you’re, like, actually a singer!” angela exclaimed.

“yeah, show off those skills girl!”

“show us up!”

“let’s go y/n!"

you shared a look with alex behind the cameras and they just gave you a smug smirk. "the chat's asking for you, too." you sighed.

you finally emerged on stage after some more heckling and they all cheered as you raised your hands to the camera. your face was extremely red as you took your place in front of the microphones, the cast bouncing excitedly on either side of you. you peeked around at them with a smile, catching their encouraging looks and a smile from spencer.

you knew if you should be anxious about anything in this moment, it shouldn’t be about spencer’s reaction to your singing. but that didn’t stop you from caring about it.

“i’m gonna bring the house down a little bit,” you joked as you showed alex the song on your phone. in response to your words, someone dimmed the lights and everyone on stage cracked up. after you chuckled you said, “yes, yes, thank you.”

your heart was racing with anxiety as alex pulled up your song, and you knew it had to be obvious to the viewers. you grabbed the microphone as the song loaded and you mumbled into it, “guys, what if i poop myself?”

they all laughed at the unexpected comment, easing your tension for a moment before the song started.

“it always goes like this.. could’ve predicted it. i’m so naive to think you’d love me for me..”

you morphed into lyrics as you continued, your shoulders relaxing and your voice getting more confident, making you feel good enough to start moving around the floor a little bit. you were completely unaware of the jaws dropped around you.

while all of smosh knew you were a musician, most of them had never heard you sing before.

…

“kissed as i ran offstage, too old to play this game..”

spencer knew his jaw was hanging, but he didn’t care. let them clip this for eternity, adding it to the ever-growing collection of spencer and y/n ship edits. you were only thirty seconds into the song and he was floored.

“guess you’re still growing up at thirty. oh..”

as friendly as you and spencer were, he hadn’t heard you sing. he’d heard you play instruments before, but you were quick to make everyone else in the room sing before offering your own voice. and now he could see why—your voice was a treasure. it was best heard solo.

“were you surprised by me, when you took me home? when the glamor wore off, reduced to skin and bone.”

he brought a hand up to cover his agape mouth, unconsciously leaning forward as he hung onto every word.

“i can’t even tell who you want to know; i’m a goddess on stage, human when we’re alone.”

spencer shared a look with shayne on the opposite couch, who looked just as surprised as he did. but shayne quickly morphed the look into a more smug one as he took in spencer’s surprise, and he hoped the lights were dim enough to hide that from being clipped. that might just be enough to canonically give away his crush on you.

“you took a star to bed, woke up with me instead.”

his gaze turned back to you, with your eyes closed moving about the front of the stage. the words were coming from your heart as you sang, not just your lips, and it rang around the studio. spencer had never heard anything encapsulate the room as much as this moment had.

“you must have felt so damn deceived when you, made up a version of, me that you thought you’d love, but i am not your aphrodite. oh..

“were you surprised by me, when you took me home?”

spencer had been spiraling the last few weeks when it came to you. what had started as an innocent office crush had been starting to get out of control for him when you two began to hang out more, both in group settings and one-on-one. he had started falling harder for you after a hangout where you had shown them all up in quiplash while sitting innocently giggling in a corner the whole time, your answers shocking everyone when they were revealed to be you. the falling only got even harder from there.

he didn’t know what to do about it. he didn’t want to ruin the comfortable office environment, or risk losing the close friendship you two were building. but watching you enrapture the entire room in less than two minutes had him wanting to do something about it.

“you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much.” it was absolute chaos on the couch behind you as you began to belt the end of the song with such raw feeling. spencer was minutely aware of angela gripping onto his arm and amanda’s as she stared, amazed, at you. spencer was doing the same, internally. “you watched me rise, then killed my light, and now you know i’m not your fucking goddess.”

they couldn’t help but start cheering as you perfectly hit the top note, riffing it as the music swayed in the background. “oh, oh.” you smiled without turning to see the scene behind you.

“i’m no goddess when i’m alone.”

courtney and angela immediately jumped on you the second they were sure the song was over, lifting you in their arms and jostling you in their hugs. the other cast and crew exploded, jumping from their seats to applaud you and join the hug. you would cherish the screenshot of hugs and cheers with your blushing happy face forever.

“thank you, thank you,” you giggled once you could breathe.

“guys, i’ve had many sleepovers with y/n and i can promise she’s still a goddess when we wake up,” courtney spoke, making everyone chuckle.

tommy added, “she’s even more of a goddess when we’re alone, i’d say.” spencer found himself nodding without realizing it.

you blew a kiss to the camera before scampering back offstage before you could ruin the perfect moment. when spencer sat down and they started looking through song requests in the chat, he couldn’t stop thinking about how heavenly you looked in the dim lighting as you sung your heart out.

“i’m still in shock,” angela muttered to spencer as amanda and trevor began to loudly argue about their roles in their upcoming duet. her gaze was looking to where you were backstage, slipping your headset back on as you giggled quietly with alex. “can’t imagine how you’re feeling, buddy.”

she gave him a smirk and spencer thought for a second before he leaned over to whisper, “you wouldn’t be able to if you tried.”

angela’s mouth fell open before her face morphed into a silent laugh, falling into her hands as spencer snickered to himself and leaned back into the couch. it was a good evasion, he thought.

but it didn't leave his mind. the karaoke went on for a few more rounds, and he even jumped in to duet ‘can you feel the love tonight’ with shayne to round out the disney duet trend. but he was peeking over at you, flashes of your solo resurfacing every now and again when he found himself zoning out, and he knew that song would be burned in his brain forever and completely associated with you.

they changed segments for the stream after a while and spencer was off for the new two hours. he wandered toward the catering table with chanse, laughing and chatting with each other. he couldn't ignore the way his heart jumped when he saw you nearby, headset off as you sipped at a bottle of water and giggled at amanda gushing at you again.

"thank you, sweetheart," you blushed and amanda shot you another compliment before walking away. you caught spencer's eye as you watched her go and offered a small wave.

"you have wonderful pipes, simba," you grinned and spencer rolled his eyes, diverting his path to walk toward you.

"i was actually timon," he spoke matter-of-factly, giving you a fake offended look.

you laughed, "oh, i'm so sorry."

"i can forgive," he ceded easily, tucking his hands into his pocket. "you obliterated us all, though." you smiled at him, rosy cheeks nearly glowing in the dim lights. "like, seriously. you sounded amazing. and that song? gorgeous lyrics."

"laufey does that," you hummed with a nod. "that song has been stuck in my head for weeks, it's just so well-written."

"well it helps when someone that looks and sounds like you sings it," he spoke without thought, and hoped you didn't see his gulp when he realized how hefty of a compliment he had given.

instead of looking uncomfortable, like he feared, you narrowed your eyes teasingly at him. he gulped again. "spencer, you've fallen victim to the very warning the song gave." he furrowed his brow at you. "goddess on stage, human when we're alone." you 'tsk'ed as he realized, letting out a chuckle. "i'm a little disappointed."

"i'm so sorry," he joked in return as you giggled. "i'll be better."

before you could tease or say any more, you heard your name called back on set. alex waved you over before disappearing again.

you looked back at spencer, turning your body toward set. "i should.."

"oh yeah," he waved his hand, "wouldn't wanna keep you from the glory of tech checks."

"oh, yeah, thank you,” you giggled.

spencer watched you start to walk away, but his mind was still buzzing with things he wish he could say. compliments he wanted to give, words he could confess, just anything to keep you talking with him. "hey, y/n," he found himself saying, leaning forward slightly in anticipation of his own words. you peered over your shoulder. "for the record, all bits aside, i like the human part of you better. even if that was spectacular for some goofy livestream karaoke.”

he relished in the flush that rose to your cheeks. you gave him a sheepish smile. “thank you, spencer.”

you couldn't help your stupid grin as you walked away, hoping spencer didn’t see it.

but he had. and he would ride that high for a while.

[snowrobin-133]

Jealousy, Jealousy~

Ace x GN!Reader No warnings! A/N - This was inspired by one of Ace's lines in the guest room when he gets into a fight. All of his lines when you break it up are always so cute lol and it happened to be with Jamil so I figured I use him here as well lol. I haven't written in a while so sorry if it's a bit awkward! ----------------------------

Getting a text from Jamil tends to be concerning. Especially when it’s during the time period that club activities take place. Taking a glance, you quickly notice the mention of Ace’s name.

‘Prefect, Ace got into a scuffle on the court and he’s being annoying. Please come by and get him out of my hair. Thanks’

You glance at the clock. Their practice should’ve only started 30 minutes ago. With a shake of your head, you decide to head on over. Texting Jamil a quick 'got it', you grab your things before making the trek to the gym.

Walking through the doors to the gym, you take a glance around. Jamil and Floyd are on one of the courts, practicing with the other basketball club members. Turning your head to the opposite side, you find Ace sitting on the bleachers with a deep frown. His head hangs low as he glares into the basketball in his hands. Walking over, you take a seat next to him, watching Ace curiously.

“Ace?”

Ace doesn’t reply at first. He glances at you from the corner of his eye before huffing, “What? Are you gonna side with them too?” 

“I mean, I can’t really take a side if I don’t know what happened, right?”

Ace pouts and throws the ball in the direction of the ball cart. He remains silent nonetheless. Before you can open your mouth, he mutters something, “I can’t believe they called you… What do they think you are, my mom?”

“I hope not, I would never want you as my child,” you quip back. 

Ace clicks his tongue, hiding his face in his arms. His next words are barely audible, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m annoying, and so what? It’s your problem if you can’t handle me, don’t pin it all on me.”

You squint at him, taking no offense to his muttering. With a sigh, you lean closer, lowering your head to be at eye level with him. “So? What happened? Was it Floyd?”

“... No.”

“Was it Jamil? Did he scold you?”

“Please, I’m not a child.” Ace groans.

“I know that… So, what happened?”

Ace stays silent, after having buried his head in his arms, he shifts his arm and face to look at you. A pout and blush is present on his face.

“... You and Jamil, why were you two together earlier?”

It takes a minute to process his words, “me and Jamil? When? And what does this have to do with what happened?”

Ace quickly dismisses it, “That doesn't matter. You seriously don’t remember?”

You tilt your head, “Why would I?? What were we doing??”

Ace groans, finally taking his head out of his arms. He points accusingly at you, a furious blush crossing his face, “You were talking with him before our last class! You were giggling with him!”

Thinking deeply, you attempt to remember what he was talking about. After a moment, you realize, “Ahhh, do you mean when we ran into Kalim and Jamil?”

“Yes!”

You stifle a laugh, “Well, you and Deuce were talking so much with Kalim that I told Jamil it was like seeing three puppies get together for a playdate.”

“Excuse me?! I was not acting like a puppy!” Ace replies with indignation as he pouts.

“Haha, right, right. Anyways, Jamil and I just joked about that, but we just watched you guys. You two and Kalim are the extroverts out of all of us, y’know.”

Ace huffs, “...Still, you two were too close together…”

“Huh? Well, you guys were talking in the hallway between classes, of course it was gonna be cramped.” You reply with confusion.

Ace looks at you like you had suddenly sprouted mushrooms from your head. He groans and furiously rubs at his hair.

“Ace???” you watch him with concern.

Hiding his face from you, Ace groans, muttering something.

“Huh? What did you say?” Ace mutters it again, slightly louder, but still inaudible.

“Huh??”

Ace’s head shoots up, glaring at you with a flushed expression, “I said you’re so oblivious! How can you not see I like you?!”

His shout rings out, echoing through the spacious gym. The sounds of basketballs once hitting the ground or hitting the hoops quiet down as the members of the club turn to look at the pair.

Silence stretches out for a minute before Floyd suddenly laughs, “Did Crabby finally confess?”

“It would seem so.” Jamil replies with a satisfied nod. The rest of the basketball club cheers in response, throwing out a few “finally!”s and “congrats, Ace!”

Ace glares at the team on the opposite side of the room, “Shut up, you guys! Gahh! I can’t take this anymore!!” He stands up and stomps away, a pout on his expression and his ears tinted red.

You scramble after him, “Wait, Ace!”

You follow him out into the hallway, leading to the locker room. Running up to him, you take hold of his wrist, forcing him to turn around. His face is still furiously red, and he refuses to look at you. He mumbles something and attempts to walk away, but you take both of his hands into yours.

“Ace, look at me, please?”

With a grumble, Ace slowly meets your gaze.

You smile at him, “You didn’t let me reply, y’know?”

Ace grimaces, “And? I don’t need a rejection, save the pi-”

“I like you too, Ace.” Quickly interrupting him, a soft laugh makes its way out of your throat as his expression shifts.

“W-wait, seriously? H-hold on! You can’t joke about this, ok?! Not with my dignity on the line!”

“You’re the jokester here, Ace, why would I joke about my feelings?”

Ace pouts at you, tightening his hold on your hands and leaning to rest his forehead on your shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. No take backs, though, got it?”

“Of course,” You pause before remembering something, "So... What happened for you to get into a scuffle on the court?"

"...Nothing important."

"Are you sure?"

Ace huffs, "Of course!... You'd take my side though, right?"

You laugh, "Sure, as long as you were actually in the right, kay?"

From the doors to the gym, Floyd and Jamil watch with keen eyes.

“Eh-he, it was so funny to watch Crabby get all crabby and jealous over shrimpy. Too bad he confessed…” Floyd sighs.

“Indeed, his ‘secret’ glares were way too obvious,” Jamil huffs, albeit with a small smile. He then turns to walk away, “Come on, Floyd, let’s get back to practice.”

“Eh~? Do I have to~?”

-------------------------------------

Sorry if there was anything out of character! ^^ I'm also gonna tag my good friend @thecoolsquirrel who I know is a fan of Ace hehe

Hope you all enjoyed this! ^^

[madsxyins]

Off the Court

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: sexual content, rough sex degradation, and strap and vibe use

synopsis: After a loss Paige takes her anger out on you

anon req

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The locker room was silent except for the hum of the overhead lights and the hollow thud of Paige’s fist hitting the metal locker door. Another loss. Another night in Dallas where her team choked the win away like it meant nothing. She’d dropped twenty eight points, fought through it all, and for what? A scoreboard that said she wasn’t enough.

Her hands were still taped. Sweat clung to her skin beneath her practice gear — a soaked compression top, baggy shorts riding low on her hips. Her blonde hair was messy, pulled half loose from the bun she’d tied it in before the game. Her jaw was clenched, that ever-sharp gaze burning holes through her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t even hear the locker room door open.

“You done punching shit?” The voice came cool and low.

Paige didn’t turn, not at first. Just let a smirk curl across her lips.

“Not even close.”

“Good,” came the reply. “Then let’s make tonight worth losing for.”

They made it back to the hotel room fast. Paige’s tension was already boiling over — muscles tight, eyes wild, breath heavy. The second the door shut behind them, her hands were at the waistband of her shorts, stripping off like she needed to shed the entire night with them.

“On your knees,” she snapped.

Y/N barely had time to respond before Paige shoved her down. No patience, no sweetness. This wasn’t about comfort or romance — this was Paige exorcising demons through flesh and control.

Paige wore the strap, the base thick and strapped tight against her toned hips. Matte black, veined, and heavy, it matched the hardness in her stare.

“You gonna take it like a good girl?” Paige growled, grabbing a fistful of hair.

A nod. That’s all she got — that’s all she needed.

“Open.”

What followed was a mess of spit, moans, and wet, gagged gasps as Paige worked every inch into her mouth. Her grip never loosened. She fed her frustration through every thrust of her hips, every groan as her partner drooled over the shaft, mascara already smudging down her cheeks.

“Yeah. That’s it,” Paige snarled, hips snapping forward. “Use that throat. Like the team should’ve used their fucking defense.”

The rhythm was brutal. Y/N was a wreck, eyes watering, drool dripping off her chin. Paige didn’t slow, she used. The slap of fake skin against flushed lips filled the room, broken only by Paige’s gritted teeth and the wet, sloppy rhythm of it all.

Eventually, she pulled out with a slick pop and grabbed her partner by the throat.

“Get on the bed. Face down, ass up.”

Y/N scrambled to obey, legs shaking with anticipation.

Paige climbed on behind her, spit-slick strap already gleaming. No teasing. No warming up. She grabbed both hips, lined herself up, and shoved in with a grunt.

A cry ripped from y/n’s throat, muffled against the pillows.

“That’s right. Take it. All of it.”

Her hips pounded hard and fast. Skin against skin, lewd sounds echoing through the room. Paige leaned forward, one hand gripping hair, the other reaching around to rub rough circles — just enough to drive her wild, never quite letting her finish.

“Not yet,” she whispered darkly into her ear. “You don’t come until I say. You want relief? You earn it.”

Sweat dripped from Paige’s back. Her body moved with a brutal rhythm, abs flexing, her thighs slapping against slick, trembling skin. Her frustration poured out through every thrust, every slap on the ass, every filthy command.

The sheets were already damp with sweat and slick when Paige rolled Y/N onto her back, straddling her hips. Her abs glistened under the soft hotel light, still flushed from the first round. Her strap-on was still attached — wet, gleaming, veins catching the light — and her hand was already reaching into the nightstand.

“You think I’m done?” Paige asked, tone low, dangerous.

Y/N swallowed, lips parted, breathing shallow.

“N-no.”

“Good girl.” Paige pulled out the slim, black remote-controlled vibe and clicked it on. A low hum vibrated in her palm. “You’re not gonna cum again unless I say so. And this—” she pressed it right against Y/N’s already-swollen clit, taping it in place with a pair of sheer lace panties — “is gonna help with that.”

Y/N whimpered, her hips twitching already under the teasing pulses.

Paige smirked, climbing off her to kneel beside the bed. She grabbed Y/N’s ankles, yanked her to the edge with zero gentleness, and spread her legs wide. The vibe was humming mercilessly now, low at first, but growing.

“You’re gonna keep that inside your panties the whole fucking night. And if you make a mess on the sheets without permission?” She leaned down, licked a slow line up Y/N’s inner thigh. “I will punish you.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back when the first wave of near-orgasm hit — and stopped.

The remote clicked off.

“Nope,” Paige whispered. “Not yet.”

She leaned in again, dragging her tongue over the toy, over the panties, teasing and cruel.

Y/N sobbed. “Please…”

“Oh, we’re begging now?” Paige smirked. “Thought you liked being my good little stress toy.”

She pulled her back onto the bed and tied her wrists in front with one of her own sweat-drenched warm-up shirts. The knot was rough, the fabric smelling like courtside pressure and frustration. Paige didn’t care for finesse. She wanted control — and Y/N gave it to her willingly.

Then came the next wave.

Paige clicked the remote back on. Full power. The vibe buzzed mercilessly against Y/N’s clit, and her hips bucked in raw desperation. Her thighs clenched, but Paige was already there — hand between her legs, slapping her inner thighs open.

“You stay open. You don’t squirm. You take it like my little whore,” she hissed, mouth brushing hot against Y/N’s ear.

Y/N was already unraveling — flushed, soaked, legs trembling.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

Y/N nodded frantically.

“Say it.”

“I want to cum, Paige, please—fuck, please!”

The vibe cut off.

Paige chuckled darkly, tilting Y/N’s chin up to face her. “Then maybe you should’ve won the game for me.”

She leaned down, kissed her roughly, and rammed the strap back inside her in one hard stroke.

Y/N screamed.

“God, you feel better than victory.”

The night stretched into an endless loop of denial, edging, and total submission.

Paige used her. Mouth. Hands. Toys. Her own body pressing her girlfriend into the mattress like she could fuck the loss out of her bloodstream. There were slaps — stinging and sharp — followed by soothing fingers and degrading praise whispered into tear-streaked skin.

“My perfect toy.”

“Such a desperate little slut for me.”

“You belong under me, crying from needing to cum.”

“This is what you’re good for.”

Y/N was wrecked.

She begged. She cried. She came once — without permission — and Paige saw it in the way her thighs spasmed and the way the sheets were soaked.

“You came without permission?” Paige’s voice dropped to something dangerous.

Y/N froze. “I— I’m sorry—”

Paige flipped her over fast and delivered a brutal slap across her ass, then another, then another, until her skin burned red.

“Count. Every. One.”

Y/N sobbed as she counted each punishing slap, voice breaking by number eight.

When Paige finally pulled her close again, she was breathless. Eyes sharp. One hand slipped back between Y/N’s legs and pressed the vibe in again—taped tight, humming loud, relentless.

“You’ll cum again now,” she whispered. “And again. And again. Until I say stop.”

And Y/N did — helpless, screaming, twitching under the force of it all.

By the time dawn cracked through the window, Paige’s rage had melted into something else — not tenderness, not quite. But satisfaction.

The only scoreboard that mattered was the look on Y/N’s face, ruined, blissed out, completely claimed.

Paige traced a finger over her lip, then leaned down to whisper

“Maybe I should lose more often.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶

author’s note: this is absolute filth…THANKS FOR READING THO!!!

[writeriguess]

I NEED any theme with this post

https://www.instagram.com/p/DH8eKy4xFUu/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

PLEASE 🙏

author's note: I'm not really sure what the 'theme' is in that post—it’s just a selfie, so there’s no real clue about what kind of story it’s supposed to tell. But here’s something with Katsuki wearing that shirt?

Shape of You

You’re not even supposed to be looking.

Not like this, not this intently, not like your eyes are carving his name into the insides of your skull. But there he is—Katsuki Bakugou, standing a few feet away in the gym, facing the weights rack with his back turned to you.

And wearing that goddamn shirt.

You don’t even remember where he got it, or if you’ve seen it before, but it’s black and sleeveless and tight, clinging to him like it was custom-made by someone with malicious intent. But that’s not the problem. The problem is the cutout.

It’s a skull—faded, jagged, the kind that looks like it was torn into the fabric with feral teeth. The top of the cutout starts between his shoulder blades, and the rest of it trails down his back in uneven slashes, ribcage-style. His skin shows through like it’s daring you to look, and every time he moves, the muscle flexes just right through the holes, like art painted in motion.

“Are you staring?” His voice cuts through the weight room like a blade.

You blink and jolt, your water bottle sloshing in your hand. “No.”

Katsuki turns his head just enough for you to catch the faint smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Liar.”

“I wasn’t,” you insist, too fast. “It’s just—your shirt’s weird.”

His eyes narrow. “Weird?”

You gesture vaguely. “It looks like a murder happened to it. Why the skull?”

Katsuki huffs, turning back to his barbell like he’s already bored of the conversation. “Looks cool.”

“It looks like you lost a fight to a paper shredder,” you mutter under your breath.

“You like it,” he says, almost smug now. “You’re still staring.”

You sit back down on the bench, trying to focus on literally anything else. You came to train, not to have a crisis over the way Katsuki’s back looks through a haunted shirt. But your treacherous mind keeps rewinding to the way his shoulder blades roll like waves under his skin, how the sweat glistens along the line of his spine…

“You gonna lift,” he grunts, “or just keep undressin’ me with your eyes?”

“I’m not—!”

“You are.” He doesn’t even look back this time, just starts deadlifting like he didn’t just call you out with sniper accuracy.

“You’re impossible,” you say, your voice somewhere between a growl and a whimper.

“And you’re obvious,” he shoots back, breath heavy but even. “You’re worse than fuckin’ Deku in high school.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I’m never looking at you again.”

Katsuki sets the bar down with a thunk and turns around slowly, still smirking. He’s flushed from exertion, hair clinging slightly to his forehead, and that goddamn cutout frames him like sin on legs.

“You’re really gonna pretend you don’t wanna touch?”

You gape. “What—?!”

He steps closer, looming. “My back,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I know you’ve been lookin’. I’m not blind, dumbass.”

“You wore that shirt on purpose,” you accuse, pointing a trembling finger at him. “You planned this.”

Katsuki snorts. “So what if I did?”

The gym’s too quiet now. You can hear the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, the echo of someone slamming weights on the far side, but all you can feel is him—warm and real and teasing, so close you could reach out and trail your fingers down the lines you’ve been memorizing with your eyes for weeks.

You should say something. A witty comeback. A refusal. Anything.

Instead, your hand twitches.

And he sees it.

His voice drops, low and dark and heavy as gravity. “You wanna touch?”

Your throat goes dry. “Katsuki…”

“C’mon,” he says, stepping right into your space, crowding your knees with his legs. “You got somethin’ to say, say it. You want my back? Say it.”

“I—” You swallow. “It’s just a shirt.”

“No,” he growls, leaning in until his breath fans across your cheek. “It’s me. You want me.”

God, he’s unbearable like this—confident and cocky and right. And you hate how easily you fold.

“Fine,” you breathe. “I do.”

His smirk curves into something darker, sharper. “Good.”

And then he turns around—slowly, like a reward—and tilts his head over his shoulder.

“Well?” he drawls. “Go on.”

You hesitate, hand hovering just above the jagged edges of the skull cutout. He watches you over his shoulder, eyes molten, unreadable. When your fingers finally make contact—warm skin, smooth and taut under your palm—his breath stutters.

You trail down slowly, over muscle, over scars you’ve never noticed before, tracing the hollow space between his shoulder blades. The skull cutout frames your touch perfectly, like a window made just for this. And Katsuki shudders.

“You like that?” you ask softly, surprised by your own voice.

“Shut up,” he says, voice rough. “Just—keep going.”

You do.

Your hand moves lower, following the lines of his back, the flex of his muscles under skin, each breath he takes echoing in the cage of your ribs. And maybe you were staring. Maybe you did want this all along.

Katsuki turns back after a minute, catching your wrist before you can pull away.

His eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide, and when he speaks again, it’s not a challenge. It’s a promise.

“I’m gonna wear this shirt every damn day until you do somethin’ about it.”

You stare at him.

Then grin.

“Guess I better start making plans, huh?”

He leans in, forehead bumping against yours. “Yeah,” he whispers, “you better.”

[wishingonjellyfish]

In Her Custody ~ 🚨

ᴄᴏᴘ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | 3.2ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ |

synopsis: cop sevika arrests you

tags/warnings: dominant!sevika, sevika refers to strap as cock, nsfw, strap, oral

A/N: (click here) sorry it took so long guys but here it is :)

Blue and red lights cut through the rain, painting the alley in jagged streaks of color.

You hide behind a dumpster, your heart hammering in your throat, the sound of boots on wet pavement echoing closer. You were so close.

"End of the line," growls a low, gravel-laced voice behind you.

You stop cold.

You know that voice anywhere. She's been trailing you for days—always just behind your trail, but never close enough. Well, until now.

You turn slowly, hand rising, rain and adrenaline soaking you to the bone.

She steps out of the shadows like she controls them, her mechanical arm gleaming in the drizzle, her badge flashing on her hip.

Her eyes rake over you in a slow, deliberate sweep, peeling back your defenses, stripping you bare, laying your soul out in the open.

She looks unimpressed.

"Well, well... you've been a busy little rat, haven't you?"

"I didn't—I wasn't—" you stammer, but she cuts you off with a snort.

"Save it. You've got a file thicker than Grayson's patience. Shoplifting. Smuggling shimmer. Breaking and entering. And now you're running from the law."

You swallow. Caught.

She strides forward, the weight of her authority echoing in every step—boots hitting the pavement like a warning, her eyes locked on you.

Without a word, she grabs you, spins you around, and pins your wrists behind your back, the cold bite of cuffs snapping into place.

"You always this dramatic when you make an arrest?" you mutter.

She lets out a sound—half grunt, half laugh—rough and low in her throat.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood. Last guy who mouthed off ended up kissing the pavement."

You glance back at her, rain dripping down your face, and catch her smirking.

"And what if I said I like a woman who's a little rough?"

Sevika leans in, her breath hot against your ear.

"Then you're gonna love your interrogation."

Your heart catches in your throat—not just from fear, but from something else. There's something about her. The danger. The authority in her voice. The fire behind her eyes. It sends your pulse into overdrive.

Sevika pushes you forward, her grip firm on your shoulder.

"Let's go, doll. We've got a lot to talk about—and I’ve got a cell with your name on it."

The cuffs bite into your skin, digging deeper. But still... you can’t stop the rush blooming in your chest.

Being arrested by Sevika?

Maybe not the worst idea you've ever had.

The metal door slams shut behind you with a sharp clang, the noise bouncing off the walls and echoing through the cramped, dimly lit room. One table. Two chairs. It smells strongly of steel, sweat, and stale coffee.

Your wrists are still cuffed behind your back when Sevika shoves you down into a chair, her expression unreadable.

She doesn’t sit.

She circles you instead, moving like a shark sizing up its prey—boots thudding against the floor, her metal arm humming softly every time she shifts.

You glance up at her. “So, are you gonna ask me questions, or just stare at me until I confess?”

Sevika stops behind you, her voice low and dangerous just beside your ear.

“This is the part where you learn who’s in charge.”

Your breath hitches.

She moves around to the front, leaning over the table with both hands braced on either side. The scowl on her lips is all teeth and danger.

“You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

You blink, playing innocent. “Maybe I’m just curious.”

“Curiosity gets people killed down here.”

Her metal hand slams down beside your arm, making you jump.

“Who are you working with?” she demands, watching your reaction like a hawk.

“No aliases. No partners. Nothing,” you reply, meeting her stare without flinching.

She seethes. “See, you’re lying. And I hate liars.”

You shift in the chair, tension coiling between you.

“Maybe you should loosen my cuffs. See how honest I get.”

That gets a grin out of her—slow and wolfish. She reaches over, and with a click, the cuffs pop free. But her hand doesn’t move away. It stays on your wrist, fingers tightening just enough to remind you who’s really in charge.

“You really wanna play this game?” she murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “In my precinct? In my building?”

You lean forward, voice low. “Only if you stop pretending you don’t like it.”

Her eyes darken.

The air between you turns electric.

She circles behind you again, dragging her fingers along the back of your neck as she passes.

“Careful,” she murmurs. “You keep talking like that, and I might forget you’re the suspect.”

You swallow hard. You’re not sure if you’re being punished or seduced.

You’re not sure which one you want more.

The cuffs hit the table with a metallic clatter, but you barely register the sound—not with her so close behind you. You can feel the heat of her body through her clothes.

“You’re trouble,” she mutters. “A mouthy little brat who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

You smirk. “Maybe I just like the attention.”

Her hand settles on your shoulder—heavy, grounding. Then she leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You want attention, doll?” she growls. “Buckle up. I’ve got exactly the kind of attention you’re begging for.”

Your breath catches. She pulls away just long enough to walk around the table and plant herself in front of you—still not sitting.

She crowds you instead, hands braced on the arms of your chair. You’re trapped.

“You think this is a joke? A little game?” she asks, her eyes burning into yours.

Your heart is hammering, but you stare back, daring to play along.

“Isn’t it?”

That earns a low, throaty laugh.

“You want to play? Then let’s play.”

She reaches out and drags a metal finger down your chest—slow, deliberate, and cold through the fabric. The pressure isn’t painful... yet. But it teeters on the edge of something dangerously close. The promise in her touch makes your skin ring.

She steps to your side and grabs your chin, tilting your face toward her.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” she murmurs. “But you keep looking at me like you want me to shut you up.”

You tilt your chin higher. “Maybe I do.”

In an instant, she’s in your space—lips just inches from yours, your breaths mingling.

“You’re playing with fire, doll.”

“Maybe I like to get burned.”

And then she’s on you—her lips crashing into yours with bruising hunger. One hand tangles in your hair, the other grips your jaw, holding you right where she wants you.

The kiss is rough, demanding, addictive.

There’s no hesitation. No gentleness. Only control.

When she finally pulls back, you’re gasping—lips swollen, dazed and dizzy.

Her smirk is pure sin.

“Still feel like being difficult?” she whispers.

You lick your lips, meeting her gaze with fire. “Only if you stop.”

Her hand slides down to your thigh, gripping hard enough to steal your breath.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble, darling.”

She leans in again, her breath warm against your ear, voice dropping to a sultry murmur.

“Maybe I should remind you who’s in control here.”

Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you down to your knees.

A low growl rumbles in her throat as she leans in close.

“I’m going to teach you how to be a good girl.”

She staggers back to her full height, her voice sharp and commanding.

“Unbutton my pants.”

You glance up at her towering, lingering form and place your hands at the center of her thighs, slowly teasing your way upward toward her waistband—

Then you catch the unmistakable bulge.

You pull back, startled, but she’s faster. Her fingers snap around your wrist with a firm, unyielding grip.

A slow smirk curls at the corner of her lips as she looks down at you, her voice low and drawn out.

“Just now realizing what you’ve gotten yourself into, doll?”

She guides your hands back to her waist, pressing them against the zipper with intent.

With a steady breath, you unbutton her pants and slowly drag the zipper down, revealing the long, thick, purple strap that springs free from her trousers.

Her other hand remains tangled tightly in your hair. With a firm pull, she guides your head toward the tip of her cock—slow and unrelenting.

She taps it lightly against your lips, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Open up, sweetheart,” she purrs, voice low and wolfish.

You pause for a heartbeat before parting your lips, and the smirk that spreads across Sevika’s face is slow… wicked. She’s a woman who thrives on obedience—the kind that comes willingly—and right now, you’re feeding that hunger perfectly.

“Good girl.”

The praise rolls off her tongue like both a reward and a warning.

That smirk of hers twists into something darker, more satisfied, as she watches you at her feet.

The sound of it coils low in your stomach—dangerous and addictive—and you know then: whatever game this is, you’re not walking away clean.

Her eyes roam your figure hungrily—a wolf inspecting her prey.

She presses the silicone tip to your lips, watching you with dark, unblinking eyes. Slowly, deliberately, she slides it halfway into your mouth—testing your reaction, savoring the way your lips part for her.

Then, she pushes in deeper, sliding all the way in.

Your throat tightens instinctively, a soft gag catching as she fills you completely—overwhelming, deliberate—exactly the way she wants it.

Her metal hand cups the side of your jaw, holding you in place—firm, but not cruel. Her gaze stays locked on yours, watching every flicker of reaction with sharp satisfaction.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, voice thick with heat. “Taking it so well.”

She strokes her thumb over your cheek, slow and approving.

“Don’t you dare pull away,” she adds, her voice lower now, more commanding. “I want to feel you struggle a little.”

Your lungs ache. Your lips stretch. And still—you stay. Letting her take control. Letting her blur the line between pleasure and surrender.

You feel her smirk more than see it, her body radiating power, her presence swallowing up every inch of space around you.

And when she finally pulls back—slow and slick—a thread of spit clinging to the cock, she leans in close, her mouth brushing your ear.

“We’re just getting started, doll,” she growls.

Her other hand trails down your body, fingers tracing the curve of your neck, sliding beneath the collar of your shirt. Fingertips graze skin heated by anticipation. The cool metal of her arm contrasts sharply with the warmth of her touch, igniting every nerve.

Sevika’s eyes never leave yours—a storm of dominance and something darker swirling behind them.

“You wanted attention,” she reminds you, voice low and dangerous. “Now you’re going to earn it.”

Her fingers pull you back onto her cock.

“You like that, don’t you, doll?” she murmurs darkly. “You love being used—just a toy for my pleasure.”

She draws you off her with a slick pop, smirking as her tone sharpens. “Getting too comfortable down there, doll?”

Her fingers tangle in your hair, a sharp tug forcing a gasp from your lips as she pulls you to your feet with effortless command. In one swift motion, she grabs you by the thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing—then throws you down onto the table, the cold metal biting into your back as her body presses in close, trapping you beneath her.

She lets out a low growl before finally closing the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. It’s rough—clashing teeth, biting lips—her whole body pinning you to the table.

You break the kiss just long enough to whisper against her lips, breathless and smiling, “That all you’ve got?”

It’s a dare. A challenge. And an invitation.

Sevika growls at your words, her eyes raking over your body with a predatory intensity.

“You’ve got some nerve, doll. You’re just begging me to break you, aren’t you?”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you meet her gaze, unflinching.

“Maybe I am,” you murmur, your voice low. “I can handle it.”

She leans in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours.

“Oh, darling… I’ll leave you trembling and begging for more. I’ll make you my toy.”

She spits deliberately into her hand, then slowly coats the silicone tip with the slick moisture—still warm and wet from your mouth just moments ago—preparing it with possessive ease, ready to claim you completely.

“You ready, doll?” she purrs, a wolfish grin curling on her lips.

Her fingers slide between your thighs, slow and certain, catching the bottom of your skirt. With one sharp tug, she hikes it up, exposing you to the cool air and her heated gaze.

When her fingertips brush over the center of your underwear, a shiver ripples through you—and she smirks, clearly pleased.

“Already shaking,” she murmurs.

Then, with a deliberate motion, she hooks her fingers around your panties and pulls them to the side. Her touch grazes your slick heat, and when she feels just how wet you are for her, that smirk deepens into something darker. Hungrier.

“Just like I thought,” she growls. “So damn ready for me.”

Her fingers ghost over your folds—light and teasing—as they gently spread you open, just enough to make you ache for more. Then she pauses, her touch retreating. With slow, deliberate care, she hooks her fingers into your underwear and slides it down your thighs, dragging the fabric over your skin.

She lines the silicone up with your entrance, the tip sliding in just enough to tease—right there on the edge, not nearly enough to satisfy. You throw your head back with a frustrated groan, your hips twitching for more.

“Please, Sevika,” you groan out.

“Patience, doll,” she growls, her voice rough with control, one hand holding you steady as she keeps you exactly where she wants you.

And then she thrusts—slow, steady, deliberate—sliding into you completely, filling you to the hilt. The stretch steals the breath from your lungs as she bottoms out, claiming every inch like she was made to fit you.

“So tight, darling,” she murmurs, voice thick with heat. “You like it when I fill you up with my cock, don’t you?”

She pulls back just an inch, then thrusts in again—slow, purposeful—dragging a moan from your lips that only makes her smirk grow wider.

“Look at you,” she purrs, leaning in close, her breath brushing your ear. “Clenching around me like you don’t ever want me to stop.”

Her metal hand grips your hip, holding you steady as her rhythm builds—deep and controlled—each thrust a statement, a promise, a claim. The way your body reacts to her only fuels the fire in her eyes.

“You were made for this,” she growls, voice low and rough. “Made to take my cock.”

And from the way your body arches into her—desperate and trembling—there’s no denying it: she’s right.

Your body moves with hers, helpless against the overwhelming pace, and she drinks in the sight of you—flushed, gasping, completely undone beneath her.

She lowers her mouth to your neck, teeth grazing your skin before she bites down, just enough to make you cry out. The sound drives her deeper.

“Say it,” she murmurs darkly. “Tell me this is what you wanted. Tell me no one else fucks you like this.”

And her next thrust leaves no room for lies.

“Say it,” she growls, pulling out of you only to slam back in with a single thrust.

You gasp, the air punched from your lungs, words tumbling out in a breathless moan.

“N-No one fucks me like you, Vika.”

Her smirk returns—dark, satisfied, and hungry for more.

“Damn right they don’t,” she snarls, her pace unrelenting now, she moves with purpose, each thrust carving her name into your body like a vow.

“You’re mine now.”

You can barely respond—every breath is ragged, every nerve alight with fire as she drives into you over and over, grounding you with the weight of her body and the sound of her voice.

“Say it again,” she demands, her tone a mix of heat and dominance, one hand sliding up your chest to wrap gently, possessively, around your throat. “Let me hear you say who you belong to.”

Your voice shakes, but your answer is immediate—helpless, honest, and filled with need.

“Yours… I’m yours, Sevika. Only yours.”

Her eyes burn with something unspoken—wild and unfiltered—and it’s unraveling you quickly.

And she doesn’t slow. Doesn’t soften. She just leans in, her lips brushing your ear with a growl that’s more promise than threat.

“Good. Now I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

She thrusts back into you, setting a relentless, brutal pace. Her fingers rise to hover just above your clit, then she presses down and begins tracing slow, deliberate circles.

Your back arches instinctively as a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

The contrast is maddening — the harsh rhythm of her hips paired with the teasing softness of her touch. Every nerve in your body lights up, caught in that unbearable balance between pleasure and overload.

“You feel that?” she murmurs, her voice rough, low, intoxicating. “I want you to come apart just like this — under me, because of me.”

Her fingers press down just a little harder, the circles tightening, syncing with the pace of her thrusts. Heat coils low in your stomach, building fast and sharp. You clutch at the edge of the table, biting down on your lip. Desperate for something to anchor you as your body trembles beneath her control.

“Don’t hold back,” Sevika growls, her voice almost feral now. “Let me hear you.”

And with every breath, every thrust, every flick of her fingers — you’re unraveling fast, the edge rushing up to meet you.Too sharp. Too close. And Sevika knows it. She watches you with that fierce, hungry look, like she wants to see you break.

Her fingers never falter, moving in perfect rhythm with her hips. The pleasure is blinding, unbearable in its intensity — and still, she pushes you further.

“That’s it,” she growls, lips brushing your ear, hot and commanding. “Let go for me.”

Your body tightens. Your breath catches — and then you fall. The climax crashes through you like a wave, tearing a cry from your throat as your muscles seize and flutter around her. She doesn’t stop. Not right away. She rides it out with you, grounding you through it, holding you steady in the middle of it all.

When your body finally slackens — trembling and breathless beneath her — she slows, pulling back just enough to study your face. There’s a flicker of something in her eyes — not just triumph, but something deeper. Something possessive. Protective.

She leans down and presses a rough kiss to your jaw, her voice low and thick with heat.“You’re mine,” she murmurs. “And don’t you forget it.”

She pulls out of you in slow motion, the silicone slick with your juices, leaving you gasping and spent, your breath ragged as you lie draped across the table.

“Get ready,” she murmurs, voice edged with dark amusement. “Because this is far from over.”

[starconstruction]

Vibe Crasher

Rei x Male Reader (smut)

smut tags: switch, oral (f/m), creampie, face riding

Word Count: 2523

was going to upload this alongside my other Rei fic coming out (yes there is 3 Rei fics in a row shoot me) but it was already done and on my old blog so might aswell.

The vibe was cozy, you had the house to yourself. All your roommates going to a party that you couldn't give a fuck about. Legs pushed against the couch arm, watching a random movie that came up. Freshly showered, life was perfect.

Was.

The door opening took you out of your comfort, a brisk chill leaking from outside as the source quickly found it's way to where you were.

There she was, your roommate, certainly not your favorite one.

Rei.

She came in, eyes immediately locking onto yours. She looked beautiful, the way her hair was done up. Her makeup was intricate and well crafted, like hours were spent on. Knowing Rei that was not an incorrect assessment.

Her dress was way too short for most people's standards, golden and sparkly. One inch higher and her ass was exposed for everyone to see. She was in black heels, the kind that evidently ached like hell to walk in. The slight twinge of alcohol radiated from her body, not drunk but clearly had a drink or two.

"Heya loser, got room for another?" She asked, voice high pitched. Kicking her ridiculous shoes off, approaching you as she pushed your legs off the couch. Sitting right next to you, bouncing against the seat.

"Why are you here Rei? Weren't you at the party?" You asked, feigning interest. Moving your gaze back to the TV.

"Well I wasssss, and I was enjoying it. But everyone there was such a buzz kill! I tried to hit on 4 different guys, but none were interested. So I came home." She said, voice evidently ticked off at the rejection. Her hands grabbing the bottle of coke on the ground and taking a fake shot.

" That's surprising, normally dudes are lining up." You responded with snark.

"Right? I got all done up as well, was hoping to get some good dick." She said wistfully, readjusting herself.

"Could always go back out, see if anyone's willing." You suggested, turning around to face her properly.

She looked at you with rolling eyes, like you were being painfully oblivious to her. Finger pointed against her ruby red lips.

"Or, you could stop being a dumbass and let me suck you off?" The way she said it so casually made you cough in shock. Her giggle light on your ears.

She stared at you with big eyes, observing you.

"Ex-cuse me?" You never thought of her like that, but seeing her like this was changing that rapidly.

Perhaps she wanted to drive home the point, hand reaching your crotch. Trailing her finger on the zipper, smiling. "You heard me, I'm horny. You're available, so?" She asked, like there was no reason to second guess what was happening. Your cock clearly agreed, stirring up to greet Rei.

"I, fuck it." You agreed, and like a cat she pounced. Fingers grabbing onto the metal and pulling it down. Your pants following behind, leaving you in your boxers. Rei licked her lips at your clothed bulge.

"God, you've been hiding this? Fuck, I didn't even need to go outside." She growled, kissing the fabric blocking the tip.

Your boxers were quickly removed, leaving you in nothing but your shirt. Rei's hand grabbed at your cock with hunger, taking it in her hand. Like it was the thing she was searching for.

"Gonna suck this cock, feel every inch in my mouth." She said, words mostly meant for herself. Rei took her time, pressing her nose into your balls, sniffing your scent as she maintained eye contact. Letting out a deep shaky gasp. "So good."

Her tongue started at the base, moving up in half licks. She was skilled, flaunting her talent with every tiny action. "Want my mouth? Want it wrapped around your cock?" She asked pointless questions, knowing the answer.

"God, yes. Rei," You groaned, head falling back against the armrest. She was more than happy to oblige, taking your needy cock right into the warmth of her mouth. Divine and sinful all at the same time, taking as much of you as possible. Bobbing up and down as she tasted you, she was concentrating. Completely focused on your pleasure.

"Mmph, mmh!" She moaned, words trapped by the cock that laid in her mouth, dying praises that didn't need to be said. Her mouth speaking a million words.

"Fuck, Rei that's... Wow." She stole all your words, siphoning them out with her sloppy mouth, she wasn't in the mood to play around tonight. One goal and one goal only.

To get fucked.

She was wet, hot and everything you could have wished for. Maybe even 1000 times over, cheeks hollowing out with her sweet sucks. She was eye-level with your crotch, but Rei was observing every single gasp and plead. Far too invested in your cock.

The background noise started to irritate you, hand struggling to claw at the remote. The TV fell silent at your command, leaving only the sounds of the talented cocksucker to listen to. Every sound beyond perfection, pure euphony.

"Fuck, Rei you look so good with a dick in your throat." You said, and it was true. The way her lips were forced open to accommodate you, going in and out with hunger.

Her lips backed off temporarily, giving you a brief respite. Her breath was heavy, deep. Struggling to capture any oxygen, saliva collected itself on her lips. "Mmmh such a nice cock, why didn't I know about this sooner?" She asked, truthfully you didn't know. If you did, god you would have done this as soon as possible.

She didn't wait for a response, didn't need to. "Put your hands on the back of my head and fuck my tight, needy throat. Got it? Don't hold back." She said, dropping a thick glob of spit right on your tip. And in one quick motion, she was back on your shaft. But this time, you had complete control over Rei.

And you were going to take full advantage of it.

Your eager hands grabbed a bunch, feeling the way the silky black hair nestled itself between every pad and inch of your fingers. Pulling her head downwards towards your crotch, you met her half way. Thrusting forward at the same time, Rei was struggling to take it. Harsh gags followed up by a cough of Saliva as she laid there, being shoved up and down on your length. Her eyes were closed, but you could sense every inch of her satisfaction.

She was in her element.

The feeling was too good, her lips sliding up and down made you so close. Orgasm building in your core, but that would be a waste of such a good moment. Pulling her off as she once again caught her breath.

"Scared you were gonna cum? I have that effect on people." She was smug, too smug. You took her lips against yours, the taste on her tongue strange. The mixture of your pre-cum, alcohol and cherry. But it was Rei, you couldn't care less. Pushing her back as you battled for dominance, hands running up her back. She pushed you in deeper, beckoning you to drown in her.

Your hand drifted lower, disregarding the dress. The fabric was damp, leaking onto your fingers. Rubbing her clothed lips, you kissed deeper. Desperate to get more of your roommate, sadly oxygen forced you to pull away. Pulling away, her lips were slick in both regions and beyond needy.

"Please, I need you to go down on me." She begged, spreading her legs open just enough. "Leave the dress on, just slide under, every inch of my body is yours." That was encouragement enough, falling down face first between her legs. Vision obscured, her panties were quickly removed by your teeth, shoved down with to her lower leg with reckless abandon.

You took in her scent, which penetrated your nose instantly, strong, musky, perfect. It lured you in, desperate to feast on the fruit in front of you. Your tongue reached out first, licking up the copious juices that lingered. You were rewarded with a soft gasp, unable to see the girls face. Leaving it to your imagination, head slightly back, mouth agape with her eyes closed.

Your tongue sped up, feverish licks to every inch of her pussy, not going in yet. Your hands grabbed her plush ass, the perfect leverage to go deeper. Rubbing your lips up and down as you devoured her, "God, you are so good, fuck!" She whined, hands reaching down to claw at your hair.

You stopped for a second, murmuring against her cunt. "Say, how about we move to your bedroom?" You asked, giving a supporting lick.

"Yeah, I - carry me, gentleman." She joked, letting you pull away. You were probably too eager, hands lifting her up as she sat in your arms. Her mouth found yours, kissing the life out of you during your navigation to her room. "Hm, I taste good." She giggled against your lips, taking your oxygen.

Each step was a colossal task, not being the strongest but good enough. Finally reaching the bedroom, which was positively Rei. You've been in here before, but this was different. Her walls were no longer plain, but decorated with her favorite bands and musicians. Painted a loving pink similar to her old hair.

But that was irrelevant, when there was an irresistible girl in your arms.

Or well, on her bed now.

She laid comfortably in the center, head barely connecting with the pillows recklessly scattered on the mattress. Her legs spread fully, giving you much better access. Pedicured feet planted in the sheets, her room smelt strongly of lemon. But now your nostrils were completely filled with Rei, much more desirable.

You got ahead of yourself earlier, choosing to tease her a bit. If anything as an act of revenge for all those nights she kept you awake, licking her inner thighs instead. Drawing tiny circles, squares and triangles.

Rei didn't take kindly to your actions, letting out an obvious groan. "What are you doinggg?" She sounded annoyed.

"Enjoying your body?" You replied, going further away from where she wanted. A visible smirk on your lips.

"Well, enjoy my pussy then and stop being an ass." She bit back, hands trying to reach out.

"Nah, unless you wanna beg for it." You replied, putting the wheel in motion. She scoffed, daring you to continue with that train of thought.

"I don't beg, but I will take what I want if you don't give." She said, the words sent a lustful shiver down your entire body. Half tempted to see where this would lead.

So you pushed forth.

"How scary, so are you going to beg or not?" Your voice had a snarl in it, looking directly at your Japanese roommate.

She didn't respond, simply sitting up, getting on her knees. You mirrored her, perhaps your mistake. Rei moved gracefully with the element of surprise, hands shoving you softly into the bed. She wasted no time, towering over you as she begun to lower her cunt right onto your face, your tongue instinctively reaching out as a seat.

"Hmmph, I'll ride this face so good. Thought you had power? Cute." She said, on cloud nine as she grinded her glistening pussy against your tongue. You couldn't say anything, but her sudden dominance made you dizzy. Letting out pathetic half whimpers while you laid there for her.

Her thighs closed in, smothering you with their comforting warmth. Her dominance didn't wane, letting you drink in every drop of her. It ran down your tongue like honey, the finest liquid on earth. "Shitt, you are so eager to sit there and take this. Fuck." She moaned.

The sound of rowdy neighbor distracted you, stupid yells and irrelevant chatter were frustrating. "Pay attention solely to me." Rei growled, keeping you trapped.

"Ooh!" She responded after you mustered up a flick, thighs shaking in orgasmic pleasure. Oxygen was running low, tapping your hand against her thigh.

She lifted up, giving you the chance to breathe. And an opportunity to strike, with a strong pant and a questionable judgement you pushed her back. Returning to her earlier position, closing the gap. Your rock hard erection in your hand as you rubbed it against her, pressing in one smooth motion. You weakly held her down, not that she tried to move, moaning happily as your cock found it's way inside.

Rei was an inviting girl, gripping onto you as you started to fuck her into the bed. Hands falling to the side, "Oh fuck you feel so big!" She moaned out.

"Not so scary now are you? Quivering under me, wheres that confidence?" You teased, keeping her pressed down to ram into.

"God -- I! Don't, fucking care! Just give me your cock!" She went stupid under your grasp, eyes begging for more in the brief windows they weren't screwing themselves shut. She was so tight, making you go feral.

"Fine, you want it?" You asked, Rei nodded instantly and weakly.

"You'll get it."

Your hands moved, shifting her body under you. Aggressively pounding into her body while you were towering above, her moans were loud and shrill, right next to your ear. Every thrust getting another delicious sound.

"Oh, oh fucking!" She cried, your hips were working overtime. Keeping it going at full force, the bed was rumbling at your force. The sight of Rei getting fucked like this, head tilted left, eyes screwed, hair ruffled. It was all so hot, filthy and so obscene.

"Rei! You are so fucking tight, god!" You gasped, ignoring the aching in your muscles. The scent of sex mingled and battled with her air freshener, neither side was winning.

"Ah! Ah! Fuck that's so, so God just give me more!" She was bathing in the pleasure, being brought to her most explosive orgasm ever.

"Fuck!" You growled, the dress was completely ridden up. A testament to the deep fucking Rei was taking so well. Her orgasm took hold, her cunt creaming all over you while she squeezed even tighter. Your orgasm was building, you considered finishing inside, it was so tempting but you knew where to cum. Where she deserved.

You pulled out at the very last second, some of your cum dripping down onto her body as you pushed into her mouth, shooting thick spurts onto her awaiting tongue. Eyes full of shock and glee, happily tasting your semen, you sat there for a second resting in her mouth till you finally left, dragging your length out.

She looked at you as your load went down with one gulp, happy but evidently tired. "God, that was so good Y/N." She panted, looking down at the bed, completely soaked in a job well done. "Oh, my bed is ruined. I'll deal with it tomorrow, I'm sleeping in your bed tonight anyway." She said.

"Are you?" You replied, tone unserious.

"Yeah, it's common manners ya jerk." She smiled, "Help me up, let's bath together, I feel like I need it."

You helped her, maybe she was your favorite roommate.

[z0mi3]

The pub’s alive with that late-night warmth amber lighting, music thumping low under the chatter. Johnny’s halfway into a story, arms flying dramatically as he recounts some chaotic mission involving a goat, three broken radios, and a crate of peaches. Simon sits beside him, broad shoulders angled toward the bar, slowly nursing a drink and shaking his head, muttering something like “bloody hell, you’re daft.”

Price chimes in, gruff and amused.

“That the same op where you nearly drove that truck off a cliff?”

Kyle’s already wheezing, tapping his glass against the counter.

“Mate, he did drive it off the cliff, just didn’t tell us ‘til after!”

The group’s laughter bubbles up, comfortable and familiar. Then Kyle’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. One hand still half-laughing, he pulls it out, sees your name flash on the screen and freezes.

He answers instantly.

“Hey, love?”

But what he hears isn’t your usual sunny tone. It’s a little whimper.

“Kyle…?” you breathe out, voice trembling, sniffles barely stifled.

His tone softens instantly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. What’s wrong?”

That quiet worry in his voice cuts through the banter. Simon glances over with furrowed brows. Johnny goes still, beer mid-way to his mouth. Even Price subtly straightens, gaze flicking to Kyle.

You’re rambling now your car made a weird sound, something’s wrong, it has to be a flat tire, and you’re in some strange part of town you don’t recognize and the GPS rerouted and nothing makes sense and you’re overwhelmed—

“Hey- hey, breathe, alright?” Kyle murmurs. “You’re alright. We’re gonna come get you, yeah? Me and the lads we’ll be right there.”

Price is already sliding his wallet out to toss a few bills on the bar, nodding once.

Johnny asks, “What’s goin’ on?”

Kyle pockets his phone, already moving.

“Her car broke down. She’s scared shitless. Let’s go.”

⸻

When the car pulls up, you spot them instantly under the flickering yellow light of a streetlamp—Kyle jumping out first.

You don’t even think you run straight to him, nearly barreling into his chest. He doesn’t budge, just wraps his arms around you, steady and warm, murmuring into your hair.

“You’re alright, love. We’ve got you.”

You’re still trembling, tear-streaked cheeks pressed against his shirt. You pull back, eyes wide and wet.

“I was so scared…”

His hands cup your cheeks, gentle thumbs wiping away the worst of it. His voice lowers, intimate.

“You’re safe now, yeah? I promise. We’d never let anything happen to you.”

Behind you, Price and Simon are crouched beside your car, assessing the tire. Johnny’s squatting, flashlight in hand, muttering something about potholes and bloody luck.

“Flat,” Price confirms, wiping dirt off on a rag. “Good thing you let me put that spare in your trunk, yeah?”

You blink.

“Right… yeah.”

You’re still holding Kyle’s hand, absently playing with his fingers, grounding yourself. But as the boys finish up, the guilt creeps in.

“I—I’m sorry for bothering you guys,” you whisper, eyes cast down. “It was just a tire, and you were all out, I didn’t mean—”

Simon stands fully now, oil on his hands, dirt on his hoodie. He meets your eyes under the balaclava dark, unreadable and then the look softens.

“You called the right people,” he says, low.

A beat.

“We’d rather be here than anywhere else.”

Your throat closes up a bit at that.

Johnny claps his hands together.

“Alright, lass. You’re ridin’ with two of us. Who’s got dibs?”

“I’ll drive her car,” Johnny offers, smirking.

“Ghost’ll ride with me—keep me in line.”

But as Ghost moves to follow, your hand shoots out, clutching his hoodie sleeve. Wide, pleading eyes stare up at him.

“Can you ride with me?”

He pauses. Something flickers in his gaze. Then he nods, gentle.

“Yeah. ‘Course.”

And just like that, the car ride home is quiet and warm. You curled in the passenger seat, his hoodie draped over your lap, his presence solid and safe beside you. His voice breaks the silence once, low and careful:

“Next time… you call sooner.”

You nod.

And maybe just maybe you squeeze his sleeve a little tighter.

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Peace - Act II : Chapter one

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Mari’s house smelled like teenage victory, sweat, and cheap body spray, the fizz of stolen wine coolers cracked open in the kitchen, and the blare of The Smashing Pumpkins from the living room stereo. Half the varsity team was already drunk off two sips of something neon. Someone lit a cherry-scented candle in the hallway for vibes. It wasn’t helping.

You lingered on the couch, half-listening to Van and Tai rehash the last three plays like they hadn’t just watched it happen. Lottie sat at your feet, legs crossed, sipping Coke from a red Solo cup.

She hadn’t left your side since the end of the game, and you were keenly aware of how often your arms brushed, or how her head leaned back into your legs like it belonged there, or how much it didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

Outside, past the rusted-out grill and a folding lawn chair someone left in the garden for God-knows-why, Shauna and Jackie stood in the quiet.

The party noise was muffled by the sliding glass door. Just the dull bass line, and the shriek of laughter now and then. The air outside was cold enough to sting a little.

Shauna’s arms were folded tight across her chest. “So… Jeff, huh?”

Jackie winced. “Oh, come on, Shipman.”

“You never told me you were back with him.”

“I’m not,” Jackie said. Too fast. Too clipped. Her eyes darted toward the ground. Shauna gave her a pointed look. “Then why do your parents think you are?”

Jackie opened her mouth, closed it again, then said, “Because I let them.”

Shauna stared. “Why?”

“Because it’s easier that way,” Jackie muttered. “Because I don’t want them asking questions, and I don’t want to explain why I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Shauna narrowed her eyes. “What are you supposed to be doing?”

Jackie exhaled. Her hands dug into the sleeves of her varsity jacket. “I’m thinking about it. About getting back together with him.”

Shauna blinked. “You’re kidding.”

Jackie shook her head, jaw tight. “It’s just-fuck-everything feels like it’s slipping. I used to have control over things, Shauna. I used to be sure. And now I’ve got Y/N walking around with Lottie like they’re-shit-like I don’t even know what they are-and I feel like I’m losing her before I ever got her back. Jeff is… he’s easy. He makes sense. My parents like him.”

Shauna’s expression twisted with disbelief. “Jackie. That is insane.”

“I know,” Jackie snapped. “But I hate this. I hate feeling like everything is happening without me deciding it. Like it’s spinning and I can’t stop it.”

For a moment, the silence between them felt like it might swallow everything.

Shauna’s voice softened. “So what? You’re gonna date Jeff just to prove you’re in control?”

Jackie didn’t answer. She just looked at the lawn, jaw clenched, eyes glassy. Shauna sighed hard, shook her head, and turned toward the house. “Good luck with that.”

She disappeared back inside, swallowed by laughter and static and music. Jackie stayed. Alone in the dark. Breath catching, hands shaking, like her own skin was too tight. Like she might throw up. Trying to manage the unraveling until it was too late, worse until you noticed.

The sliding door creaked open behind the couch, and Jackie stepped back into the warmth of the party like she hadn’t just confessed to emotional spiraling in a backyard lawn. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile effortless, and her eyes scanned the room with that golden-girl gleam she wore like armor.

“Okay,” Jackie said, clapping her hands. “New rule. No one gets to leave until we destroy each other at karaoke.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“YES!” Van whooped from the kitchen, hoisting her Coke can like a trophy. “Jackie fucking Taylor, you’re a genius.”

Tai laughed and elbowed her. “You only say that ‘cause you think your Jewel impression is God like”

Kelly squealed, already searching for a stack of CDs and the clunky black karaoke machine Mari’s older brother sometimes used for basement shows. “We are doing Alanis first or I’m fighting someone!”

Everyone cheered. Shauna arched a brow but smirked. Mari cranked the volume on the stereo and dimmed the lights. Jackie let herself get swept in, let the noise wrap around her like a blanket.

This is what she was good at. Commanding a room, being the center of the universe. It was easier than feeling like a distant planet to something she couldn’t name. But then her eyes fell on the couch.

And her smile faltered. You. Her Smalls eyes closed, curled sideways with your cheek nestled against Lottie’s lap. One of Lottie’s hands absentmindedly threaded through your hair, slow and soft, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Lottie looked happy. Not the loud kind, not even the dreamy one you usually brought out of her, but something quieter. More dangerous. More deep.

Jackie felt her stomach twist.

Her chest tightened, something cold and angry rising in her throat before she could swallow it down. She walked over, tone sweet as poison. And she couldn’t help it.

“Aw,” Jackie said, voice pitched high. “Didn’t realize we were playing house.”

Lottie looked up, blinking. “What?”

Jackie smiled, all teeth. “Just saying it’s cute. The whole sleeping beauty in your lap thing. Very… intimate.”

The room went quieter than it should have for a party. Tai raised an eyebrow. Van and Natalie exchanged a look.

Lottie’s expression hardened, her fingers stilling in your hair. “You got a problem, Jackie?”

“Just seems like a fast friendship,” Jackie said casually. “But what do I know? Maybe you’ve always liked girls falling asleep on you.”

Shauna’s eyes widened. “Jackie—”

“No, it’s fine,” Lottie said, sharp now. “You want to say something, just say it. Or are you only brave when your audience is drunk and cheering for you?”

The air crackled. Jackie opened her mouth, but Shauna was already on her feet. “Okay! That’s enough.” She grabbed Jackie by the arm and tugged her away from the couch before the whole party turned nuclear.

Jackie let herself be pulled, stiff and silent, jaw clenched so tight it ached. Outside, just past the hallway, Shauna turned on her. “What the hell was that?”

“She’s not being honest about what she’s doing,” Jackie hissed.

“You’re not being honest either!” Shauna snapped. “And whatever weird mess you’re working through, you don’t get to use Y/N or Lottie as collateral damage.”

Jackie stared at her, blinking fast, like she’d been slapped.

Shauna’s voice softened, tired now. “You need to chill, Jax. Or you’re gonna push Y/N away.”

Jackie didn’t say anything. Just looked toward the living room, at the glow of the TV, at Lottie gently covering you with a blanket. At something she wanted so badly, she couldn’t breathe.

And all she could think was: She used to fall asleep on me like that.

Hours later, the house was still. Muted light crept in through the slats of the closed blinds, casting faint stripes across the living room carpet. The remnants of the party were everywhere, half-empty Solo cups, someone’s jacket draped over the back of a chair, the karaoke mic tangled in a cord on the floor like a forgotten snake. Girls scattered across the house in awkward sleeping positions.

You stirred first. You blinked awake slowly, your lashes brushing against fabric. The realization came gradually, your cheek was pressed against soft cotton, your head resting gently in the curve of someone’s lap. You tilted your face just slightly, and that’s when you saw Lottie.

Lottie was already awake.

Her back leaned against the arm of the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the other resting gently across the cushions. She wasn’t looking at you, not directly, her eyes were on the faint glow of the muted TV, now playing some forgotten early-morning infomercial for hair growth or ceramic knives.

But her fingers were still in your hair. Still absentmindedly, tenderly threading strands through them, like her body hadn’t quite registered she���d stayed up all night.

You shifted a little. “Did we… fall asleep here?”

Lottie glanced down, startled from her haze. Her eyes softened instantly. “Yeah. You knocked out like… halfway through Mari butchering TLC.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “God. Did I snore?”

Lottie gave a sleepy laugh. “A little. Like a baby cat. It was cute.”

You blinked up at her, warmth rising to your cheeks. “You stayed up?”

Lottie shrugged, looking down now at her hands, at where her fingers still brushed your hair. She didn’t stop. “Didn’t want to move you. You looked peaceful.”

You sat up slowly, your shoulder brushing against Lottie’s, and for a second, you both just sat there in the dimness, the hum of the TV filling the silence.

“You okay?” Lottie asked gently.

You hesitated, then nodded. The haze of the game, and the party blending together in a weird blur. “Yeah… just a weird night.”

Lottie tilted her head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know.” You looked at her. “But I kinda want to.”

Lottie smiled faintly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then I’m here.”

The moment sat still between them, heavier than sleep but lighter than anything else that had happened the night before. Your mind goes to what Jackie’s mom said. And why it even stuck with you.

You swallow hard. Maybe Lottie didn’t need to know that. So then you reached for the remote, lowering the volume even more.

“Let’s just stay like this a little longer,” you decide instead.

Lottie nodded. They sat in the quiet, the world still on pause, hearts slowing into rhythm with each other.

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Can I request a Friends to lovers with chaewon. Where chaewon has been simping and trying to ask out y/n for years to the point that she formally asks y/n's parents if she can date him, whereas Y/N keeps rejecting her over and over because they think that chaewon is joking?

“Not Joking, Never Was”

Synopsis: You’ve known Chaewon forever—bold, mischievous, and hopelessly devoted. Despite her obvious feelings and even asking your parents for permission to date you, you keep brushing her off, thinking she’s joking.

Word Count: 1,234

Kim Chaewon X Male Reader

You’ve always known Chaewon.

From crawling around on the carpet as toddlers while your parents had dinner upstairs, to making sandcastles at beach trips where she'd declare, “This is our kingdom, and I’m the queen—so you have to marry me.”

You laughed. You always did.

She was loud. You were quiet.

She climbed trees, picked fights with boys twice her size, and never sat still.

You read books under playground slides and apologized on her behalf more than once.

It stayed that way for a long time.

Until middle school, when you stood between her and some smug upperclassmen calling her names.

"Nobody messes with my Chaewon."

You didn’t think much of it.

But she did.

She held onto that line like it was scripture.

Still brings it up when she's tipsy. Or clingy. Or both.

Now you're both in college.

You’re a med student—stressed, over-caffeinated, and perpetually behind on sleep.

Chaewon’s in law—sharp, eloquent, and somehow always has time for you.

She still calls you her hero.

Still shows up with snacks in her bag labeled: “Y/N’s Brain Fuel”

Still slips you folded letters in your anatomy books with lines like:

“I’d defend you in court even if you were guilty 🧡”

“Studying your face > studying the law.”

You pretend not to notice the hearts she draws next to your name.

During a big debate competition, she’s in the front row, clapping aggressively while the rest of the hall holds a respectful silence. You’re mid-argument about medical ethics when you hear it:

“GO GET HIM, Y/N!”

The room turns.

You close your eyes.

Later, backstage, you hiss, "Chaewon, you can’t yell in debates."

She just grins, holding up a water bottle and your favorite chocolate bar.

“But you did so good. You looked like a hot professor up there.”

“You’re so weird.”

You try to sound annoyed, but your smile betrays you.

She shrugs. “Weird for you, maybe.”

Your friends are sick of you.

"Dude, can't you see the bigger picture here?"

Jisoo’s half-pouting, half-smacking your arm with a rolled-up worksheet. "She's everyone’s dream girl, and SHE—" he jabs a finger at your chest, "—likes YOU. YOU, Y/N. YOU."

You yawn, flipping to the next page of your notes.

“She’s joking. She’s always been the mischievous type.”

From across the table, Haechan lets out a sharp sigh.

“Nah, man. Whatever.”

He mumbles something that suspiciously sounds like “dumbass” into his can of soda.

“Hey Y/N!”

You don’t even flinch when you hear her shout.

And like clockwork, Chaewon comes flying into your arms, full force, like you’re her personal gravity. You stagger a little but catch her anyway—one arm around her back, the other bracing her thigh because of course she jumped from somewhere ridiculous again.

Her arms sling around your neck. Her cheek squishes against yours.

"You catch me so naturally. Are you sure we're not soulmates?"

You grunt.

“One day you’re gonna break your ankle.”

“One day you’re gonna realize I’m in love with you.”

She’s smiling when she says it, so you laugh. Because she’s always like this.

“Studying real hard, eh?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows as you finally let her down.

“Yeah. You?”

“Just some assessments. Nothing my good ol’ brain can’t handle.”

She taps her temple dramatically, then pulls out a chocolate bar from her tote.

“I got this for you, by the way. Brain fuel. Only for my favorite med nerd.”

You eye the snack.

“You gave me one yesterday.”

“Because I love you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean—I love giving you snacks, obviously.” She corrects herself with a forced cough and a quick wink, then skips ahead a few steps to hide the blush threatening her cheeks.

Your other friends witness the whole thing from a bench nearby.

Haechan sighs again.

“They’re so stupid it physically hurts.”

Jisoo, deadpan: “I hope they both trip and fall into love. Literally.”

Not so long after, about a week.

It was supposed to be a normal weekend dinner—Chaewon helping your mom with the japchae, your dad grilling outside while you were still upstairs reviewing notes. But unbeknownst to you, something very Chaewon was brewing in the kitchen.

She wiped her hands on a towel, suddenly serious. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

Your mom looked up from slicing fruit. Your dad paused with the tongs mid-air.

“Yes, Chaewon?” your mom smiled, half-expecting another request for more garlic.

Chaewon inhaled deeply, clasping her hands together. “I want to ask something kinda big.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I’ve been in love with Y/N since middle school.” She said it plainly, with no theatrics. “And I know I joke around a lot, but I’m serious now. I really like him. I always have. So...” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask if I could have your blessing to ask him out. Properly.”

Silence.

Then your mom started grinning. “Oh sweetheart, of course.”

Your dad just chuckled, shaking his head. “Took you long enough. We were wondering when you’d get around to it.”

Chaewon blinked. “Wait—so you’re not surprised?”

“You’ve been calling him your Y/N since you were eleven, sweetie,” your mom said with a wink.

And upstairs, you sneezed—blissfully unaware of the chaos about to reach your doorstep.

Your phone buzzes just as you’re about to close your eyes.

A message from Chaewon:

“Hey, just talked to your parents earlier. They’re cool with me asking you out. No big deal.”

You stare at the screen, blinking.

No big deal?

You type back slowly:

“Wait… what??”

Almost instantly, your phone rings.

You answer, and her voice is soft but teasing, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.

“So… when should I pick you up for our first date, Y/N?”

You cough, trying to keep it casual, but fail miserably.

“You… talked to my parents?”

“Yup. Figured I’d get their permission first—don’t want to cause a scene.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Only you would do that.”

“Of course. I like doing things the Chaewon way.” She giggles.

“So… should I clear my schedule next weekend?”

You bite your lip, feeling your heart speed up.

“Guess I don’t have much of a choice, huh?”

“You do. You can say yes.”

“Okay.”

“That’s what I thought.” She grins through the phone.

You can’t help but smile as you lie back on your pillow, suddenly feeling like this might be the start of something really, really good.

A few days after that late-night call, you find yourself sitting beside Chaewon on a quiet bench outside campus. The sun’s setting, casting a warm glow around you both.

She’s fiddling with a stray thread on her sleeve, looking a little nervous—unusual for her.

You clear your throat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You know,” you say slowly, “maybe… maybe I was wrong all this time.”

She looks up, eyes curious.

“About what?”

“About you joking.” You smile shyly. “You’re not joking. You’ve always been serious.”

Chaewon’s face softens, a genuine smile spreading across her lips.

“So, what does that mean?”

You take a breath, meeting her gaze steadily.

“It means… maybe I’m ready to give this a shot. With you.”

She beams, like the sun just came out from behind the clouds.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

You laugh quietly, heart fluttering.

“Guess we’re both a little late, huh?”

“Better late than never.”

[letdevabe]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Worth staying for ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Pairing: daryl dixon x reader

Summary: In the quiet aftermath of another supply run, you find yourself waiting again for Daryl to come home. Between silent conversations, shared glances, and the ever-watchful eye of Carol, you and Daryl begin to confront the unspoken bond that’s grown between you. It’s slow, raw, and a little broken… but in a world falling apart, maybe love doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to feel like something worth staying for.

Setting: Alexandria, safe-zone

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

The moon hung heavy over Alexandria, casting silver lines across the porch. You sat on the wooden steps, the cool air brushing your skin, one of Daryl’s jackets wrapped around your shoulders. It still smelled like him — pine, sweat, smoke, leather.

You heard the crunch of boots before you saw him.

“You gonna freeze out here, sittin’ like that.”

You smiled into the night, not turning yet. “Was waiting on you.”

Daryl shuffled closer, hesitating a beat before he sat next to you, crossbow still slung over his back. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It never was with Daryl — more like a blanket you both could breathe under.

“Everything went okay on the run?” you asked softly.

“Yeah. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle,” he grunted. Then, a pause. “Saw a pack near the gas station though. Might need clearin’ soon.”

You nodded, trying not to look at the dried blood on his sleeve.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

He glanced over, eyes softening under the mess of his bangs. “Yeah. Me too.”

⸻

Later that night, the living room glowed dimly with lantern light. Carol sat across the table with a mug of herbal tea. You stirred a half-cup of beans in a pot, trying to make them stretch.

“You two keep doing that weird thing,” Carol said, sipping. Her smirk was slight but unmistakable.

You blinked. “What weird thing?”

“That thing where you’re talking without talking. It’s cute. But also kind of maddening.”

You laughed. “It’s just how we are.”

“Mhm. Maybe. Or maybe Dixon needs a little push.”

“I don’t think he needs pushing. I think he needs… space. To come to things on his own.”

Carol studied you, then looked past you toward the hallway where Daryl had disappeared moments ago. “You give him a place to land, you know. That matters.”

You didn’t say anything, but your fingers tightened slightly around the wooden spoon.

⸻

You found Daryl outside again, tinkering with his bike, fingers black with grease. He didn’t look up as you approached, but you knew he knew it was you.

“You ever sleep?” you teased.

“Could ask you the same,” he muttered, tightening a bolt.

You leaned against the fence beside him. “Carol thinks we’re weird.”

“She’s not wrong,” he said after a beat, and you both chuckled quietly.

There was a beat of silence before he set the wrench down and finally looked at you.

“You scared me today,” you admitted. “When you didn’t radio back.”

His jaw clenched slightly, eyes darting to the side. “Didn’t mean to. Got caught up.”

“I know,” you said. “I just… I wait for you, every time. And I hate that I don’t always know if you’re coming back.”

That got his attention.

Daryl stood up, rubbing his hands on a rag, the tension in his shoulders unreadable.

“You think I don’t wait for you too?” he said, voice low. “You think I don’t count every damn second you’re not in sight?”

You blinked, surprised.

He stepped a little closer. “Ain’t good with this stuff. You know that. But I feel it. Every time you’re out there. Every time I don’t know if I’m gonna see you again.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered, but he cut you off.

“I wanna,” he said. “Just… let me do it my way.”

You nodded, heart thudding as he hesitated — then reached up and brushed a bit of grime from your cheek with a rough thumb. His touch lingered.

“You feel like somethin’ good,” he murmured. “Like maybe there’s still things worth stayin’ for.”

Your eyes stung, and you leaned into his touch.

“You are worth staying for,” you whispered. “You always have been.”

He kissed you then, quiet and raw, like the world might break around you but he’d keep you standing through it. Like maybe this little piece of safety was something he was finally ready to believe in.

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