#will this be helpful in my career? who knows

[myjungkookthighs]

MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙────────୨ৎ───────˙⋆✮

My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs

♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)

nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader

hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.

♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)

rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)

ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk

student plug!jk x rich girl!reader

You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no

♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk

jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader

getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.

♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk

idol!jk x (f)actress!reader

it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma

♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay

biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader

There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)

Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!

What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku

dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku

nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku

bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash

dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)

a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash

friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook

you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash

Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook

you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind

♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash

neighbor!jk x Reader

jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?

♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash

friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)

just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash

hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader

you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk

older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)

in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.

♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk

dad!jungkook x f. reader

this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk

 dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)

you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you

♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu

Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??

you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu

popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader

everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?

♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg

Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!

after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy

♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg

ex!au jungkook x ex!reader

Co- parenting

♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg

ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader

♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116

Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk

A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason

♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116

f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)

You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?

♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3

biker!jk x reader

It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.

♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3

 Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)

That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj

best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)

In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk

dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)

every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild

College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)

You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild

housemate!Jungkook x Reader

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive

basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie

dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk

loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate

♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie

fem!oc x dealer!jjk

always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.

after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.

♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities

grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader

Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare

dilf!jungkook x fem!reader

Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.

♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro

dilf!jungkook x reader

A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk

♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook

Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)

there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.

♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook

friend!Jk x reader

jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover

bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader

Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.

♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok

bodyguard!Jk x Reader

❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜

♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep

bodyguard!jk, idol!reader

when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.

♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)

Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)

When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.

♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife

roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help

♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut

bestfriend!Jk x Reader

You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.

♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut

Piercer!Jungkook x Reader

You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.

─────────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗

♥︎— SAFEWORD

daddy!jungkook and sub oc

♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD

gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader

♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK

idol!Jk x gf!Reader

♥︎—MILK AND CREAM

sub!JKx noona!Reader

♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET

highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader

♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES

friendnemie!Jk x Reader

♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA

needy JK x reader

♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS

roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc

♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING

DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc

♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX

idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING

possessive bf! JK x Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)

Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader

♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM

bf!jk x gf reader

by @redcherrykook

That's it for part1 !

[what-even-is-thiss]

I worry sometimes about the beautiful fantasy that certain conservative stay at home moms are selling on places like tiktok and Instagram. A lot of them are acting like stay at home moms should never work or do finances or something and that’s just not right.

Both of my grandmothers were stay at home moms but neither of my grandfathers forced them into it. My dad’s mom helped run the family construction business and did some freelance architecture design on the side and my mom’s mom just hated working and worked part time as a teller on and off during times they needed more money. And both of my grandfathers knew how to cook. They didn’t cook most of the time but sometimes the wife is sick or off visiting her parents so you’ve gotta know how to whip up some corn chowder or something for the kids after work.

A lot of “stay at home spouses” or “homemakers” work actually. Including those trad wife influencers or even occasional house husband influencers you see on Instagram and tiktok. Their job ironically enough is being a homemaker influencer. The second that person turns on a camera for money they’re no longer solely working as a homemaker.

The idea that there’s some perfect life you can live where all you do is clean and cook and have perfect little babies is a fantasy. Parenthood involves vomit. Relationships involve disagreements. Most households necessitate having two incomes at some point, especially if your main source of income is a business. Businesses are inconsistent sources of money. Freelance work is an inconsistent source of money. It’s also important to have your own means of financial support in case your spouse decides to stop being a good person someday. It might not happen to you but there’s also no guarantee that it won’t. And a decent person won’t feel threatened by you wanting to have your own means of income because if they’re a good person then generally they shouldn’t have to financially trap you in order to get you to stay with them.

Thankfully neither of my grandfathers turned out to be total pieces of shit but in case they did one of my grandmothers had her investments and architecture and drafting skills to fall back on and the other had years of experience as a bank teller that could’ve gotten her a full time job in most places. And both of these women ended up raising daughters that grew up to have careers.

My mother was also a part time teacher that spent a good amount of her time raising my brother and I when she was alive. But she had her own money and could have left at any time if she needed to and when she died my dad still had all the skills needed to raise us and teach my brother and I how to do basic household tasks.

If your life’s dream is to be a stay at home parent I’m not going to tell you that’s a stupid dream. What I am going to tell you is a) it’s not glamorous and stress-free and you should not expect it to be like that, b) have an escape plan just in case and fully understand what you’re getting into financially, and c) pick someone as your partner who knows how to do basic household tasks even if they won’t be doing them most of the time because you will get sick, you will get tired, you will visit your friends or family and you want someone who can get your kids dressed and cook them dinner in the event that you can’t.

[blueberrylixie]

yes, sir

part two of the yes series

to read part one, yes, professor, click here !

student hyunjin x fem! student reader x professor changbin 

word count: 11,247

Content warnings: cursing, threesome (mfm, no bxb), oral sex (m and f receiving), pussy job, anal sex (f receiving), pet names (slut, whore, baby, sweetheart, etc.), use of professor and sir for males, light spanking, light degradation, descriptions of cum, graphic depictions of sex (that's why ur here lol)

let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!

six months after yes, professor... 

"C'mon baby, I'm hungry!" 

You giggled, shaking your head at Hwang Hyunjin, your boyfriend of three months. He tended to be whiny and dramatic at times, especially when he got hangry. But since you'd been his friend since before you started dating, you'd known what to expect. 

But today, you had a special plan. Because you weren't just hungry for pizza. 

You and Hyunjin had started dating back in January, around three months after you'd officially met during your first semester of senior year. The two of you had really connected over your love for the arts, being two creative people suffering through their one and only math course of their college career. You'd truly come to care about him not only as a friend, but as a potential soulmate, too. 

There was really nothing wrong with your relationship, and you had zero complaints about him as a partner. He was sweet and attentive, smart and thoughtful, and he always made time for you. He especially loved setting up cute dates, from painting classes to movie nights. He was also incredibly passionate, always wanting to be near you, whether it be just touching and cuddling, or full-blown makeouts. He constantly gave you butterflies, a warm feeling in your stomach. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was irresistibly sexy. 

But there was one thing that had been weighing on your mind for the past month or so. Even though your relationship was strong, and the romantic and sexual chemistry was hot, sizzling even, you had always left each sexual encounter... wanting more. 

Because no matter how hard Hyunjin tried, he just couldn't make you cum. 

Of course, he was always very apologetic and embarrassed, which was incredibly endearing. And really, you didn't mind that you couldn't finish. He was totally okay with you touching yourself instead, especially if he got to watch. But c'mon, what girl didn't want to cum at the same time as their gorgeous art major boyfriend? 

Because at the end of the day, you knew why you were struggling. Every time you came close, hanging on that precipice, begging your body to just release, like clockwork... a certain glasses-clad math professor in a sexy dark sweater would invade your mind. A professor who didn't even teach you anymore. But no matter how long it had been since you'd spoken to him, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the thoughts. 

But tonight, you were determined to break the cycle. Tonight, you were going to enact a plan: seduce Hyunjin, and have the best sex of your life. 

"Okay, okay!" You decided to play along with your hungry boyfriend's complaints for now, following him into his apartment, and laughing all the way to the kitchen. "I wouldn't want my handsome man to starve, after a long day of studying." 

He nodded furiously. "Yeah, since you forced me to work, I deserve food!" 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. "So me wanting to help you pass English Lit is forceful, now? What about you making me study Art Comp — an elective, might I add — for three hours straight, huh?" 

Smirking, he squeezed your hand tightly. "You're right, baby. You deserve to eat too." 

But before you could reach for the pizza, Hyunjin's hands, which had been holding yours tightly the entire way back from the campus library, wrapped around your waist, and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. He stepped between your legs and leaned in, so you were mere inches apart. "But first, I'd like my appetizer." He grinned, a silent request. 

Your heart leapt. Maybe he was feeling just as horny as you were. Wearing a cozy black cable-knit sweater over a white collared button-up shirt, paired with black slacks and brown loafers, he looked absolutely delicious. How were you expected to resist? You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, taking his black-rimmed glasses and setting them on the counter so you could pull him closer. 

He sighed happily against your mouth, and you brought your hands up to grip both sides of his face, pulling him to you. You melded together, tasting each other with a sweet, gentle passion. How could it be this early, and you were already experiencing such strong feelings for him? It just made your resolve to enact this plan even stronger. 

Nipping your bottom lip playfully, he let go, carefully setting you back on the kitchen floor, but never releasing your hand. You wrapped an arm around his waist, curling into the warmth of his body. He smelled of clean laundry and wet paint, your favorite scent as of the past three months. When you breathed him in, a sense of calm blanketed your mind, and you smiled against him. 

He kissed the top of your head as he served you a plate of pizza, then pulled a chair out and waited for you to sit, before settling in as well, grabbing a slice for himself. He took a bite, his free hand snaking down to your bare thigh and squeezing tight. The two of you ate in silence, your mind temporarily getting distracted by the need for food. The cheap cheese, the only thing you college students could afford, satisfied one of your cravings after a long day of studying. You closed your eyes and smiled, resting your head on his shoulder in contentment. He looked down and met your gaze, eyes filled with affection. "Was all that hard work worth it, baby?" he teased. "You look like you're in heaven." 

You shrugged. "What? It's really good, don't you think?" 

He chuckled, reaching out with a napkin to wipe some grease off the side of your face. "I just like seeing you happy. Oh, and I'm fucking starving! It makes even this crappy pizza taste amazing." 

Wiping your mouth, you smiled in response. God, was he trying to tease you, by being the absolute best boyfriend in the world and wearing your absolute favorite outfit of his? It was time to get your plan rolling, because you wanted this man too damn badly. 

Your hand came up, and you stroked his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "You know Hyun, the pizza isn't the only thing that tastes amazing," you murmured, zeroing in on the splotch of pizza sauce on the edge of his lip. Leaning in, you licked it off, getting a taste of the tangy sauce, an intoxicating whiff of your boyfriend following it. 

He visibly gulped, looking you up and down nervously. The back of his neck began to redden, but he grinned, trying to keep his cool. He was just too adorable when he got flustered, you thought with satisfaction. 

You snatched up his hand and stood up. "You wanna find out what it is?" you asked coyly. "I hear that there's a very good boy who finished all his studies. I think he deserves something sweet as a reward." 

Hyunjin's dark eyes lit up with excitement, and before you could react, he was standing up and snatching you into his arms bridal style, carrying you all the way to his bedroom. 

"Hyun, you can't just take me away from my food like this!" you cried, playfully smacking his chest over and over. But you hid a smile against his shoulder. How did you know your plan would be so easy? 

He smirked, tossing you onto the bed with just enough care so you wouldn't get hurt. "What? You said I would get a treat. If it's the treat I think it is, I would be a fool to dawdle." Then, he sat on the bed, and patted his lap. "Now, what were you saying about something being delicious and sweet, huh?" 

"Okay, okay Mr. Impatient." You rolled your eyes. "But first, I want all this off." Motioning to his sweater and button-up combo, you grinned. "I wanna see how hot my boyfriend is."

"Oh really?" he inquired, brows raised. But without another word, he pulled his sweater over his head and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his slim, yet distractingly toned body. He'd only gotten more muscular since you started dating. He'd always been mouth-wateringly sexy, but with those sinewy arms and defined abs, it was a panty-wetter for sure. 

You bit your lip as you visually devoured him. Reaching your arms out to him, you fisted each side of his open shirt, and pulled him towards you.  "Okay Mr. Hwang, it's time for your special reward." 

He fell into your embrace readily, hands carding through your hair, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. You cupped his face in both hands, before dipping your head to his, and engaging in a deep, intimate kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, and they tangled together messily as he nibbled on your bottom lip, causing you to whine against him, begging for more. 

"Already so needy, baby?" he teased, eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you were giving me a present, not the other way around." 

You pouted, beginning to grind against him uncontrollably, desperately seeking the friction his clothed crotch gave you. "Did you think I was just going to give up?" you huffed. Before he could reply, you climbed off his lap, and pushed him into the mattress, sliding down his body and unfastening the button on his slacks, tugging them off, along with his boxers.

His semi-hard cock, flushed and pretty, sprang forth immediately, and you grasped him firmly in one hand, admiring him. All pink and long, with a vein down the middle. You knew he went especially crazy when you licked that spot...

Hyunjin watched you, curious eyes shadowed with arousal. "If this is my reward, can I request something?" he asked, his voice turned deep and husky at the mere prospect of you pleasuring him. 

You shrugged, nodding. "Sure baby, you can request anything you want." 

"Take your top off, yeah? I can't be the only one without my clothes on, and I want to see your gorgeous body."

You obediently pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed in your lacy black bra. Although you hadn't dressed up outwardly, having been studying for hours, this was part of your plan. So naturally, you had to wow him with his favorite pair of lingerie. 

And judging from the way Hyunjin's cock instantly began swelling against your palm, your plan was working. He whistled quietly at the sight, starting to thrust himself in and out of your hand, moaning at the sensation. 

"Fuck baby, did you wear that pretty number just for me?" He clenched his jaw as he gazed at you, using both of his elbows to prop himself up so he could observe your skilled ministrations. 

You smirked, now using both hands to stroke him up and down. "Is there anything wrong with wanting to look pretty for my man?" you asked demurely, before opening your mouth and licking a stripe down the length of his gorgeous cock, marveling at the salty flavor of his precum, which had started beading from the tip and onto your hand. 

"Fuck, don't tease me, angel," Hyunjin gritted out, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. "Show me how good your mouth is." 

Spurred on by your boyfriend's praise, you took him all the way, sucking with vigor as you bobbed your head up and down, saliva dripping onto his stomach. Kneeling on the bed, you arched your back higher, so he could get a nice view of your ass as you worked. 

"Shit, yes, just like that baby, I-I'm gonna fucking bust," Hyunjin stammered through swollen lips, fighting between closing his eyes and the desire to stare at you. "Look at your sexy little ass, in the air just for me. You're so hot." Unable to control himself, his hips began jerking up and down at a faster pace, and you began choking on his cock, as he forced it down your throat. 

"Yes Hyun, use me however you want," you gasped around him, using your hands to stroke the base, which was slick with spit and precum. "Fuck, you're so big, I want you inside me right now." 

"Yeah? You want your boyfriend to fuck you silly?" he panted in desperation, sweat shining on his forehead. "Then get your cute ass up here." 

You hustled to lay on the bed, and Hyunjin knelt above you, his cock still fully hard and pulsing with desire. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him close to you, inviting his cock to rest at the entrance of your pussy. You were so wet, you were soaking through the sheets below you, begging to be fucked. 

"Shit, you're really making a mess down there, sweetheart," Hyunjin murmured reverently, sliding the pad of his thumb against your cunt, forcing a desperate whimper from your lips. 

"I'm only wet for you, Hyun." You batted your eyelashes at him enticingly, rubbing your pussy against his cock, reveling in the sensation of him against your sensitive nerves. "Please, fuck me?" 

"Ah shit," Hyunjin scrubbed a hand down his face, before using his arms to brace himself over you. "How could I say no, when you just gave me the best gift ever?" 

"It's not finished yet," you breathed, as you lined his cock up with your entrance, and, pushing your legs against his back, pulled him flush against you. 

Taking this as permission, Hyunjin thrusted into you in one harsh movement, until he was balls deep in your tight heat. The air was instantly filled with your and his desperate moans, as he picked up speed, and he was pounding in and out of you, aided by your raised hips and pretty whimpers. 

"Yes baby, yes," he panted, the bed shaking and creaking as he fucked in and out of you impossibly faster, wet slapping sounds proof of your arousal. "You fit me so well, squeeze me so tight." 

"Please Hyun, touch me," you gasped, sliding your hands into his hair and pulling desperately. This was what happened every time. You would get so close and beg him to touch you, or kiss your neck, or suck your nipples. And he would, every time. But...

"Of course, beautiful," Hyunjin's rough fingers slipped between your legs, as he began rubbing that bundle of nerves vigorously. "Are you close, baby? I think I'm gonna cum, but I want to finish together this time." His hips shook as he tried to stave off his approaching orgasm. 

You whimpered against him, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Grinding yourself frantically against his fingers and cock, neither of which had slowed, you silently begged yourself to get there, just finish so you could have your first ever orgasm at the same time as your boyfriend. 

"And from now on, you will call me Professor." 

Fuck. You took a sharp inhale of breath, cunt tightening as those words, words which had admittedly haunted you for six months, suddenly invaded your brain. And they always did, every time you had sex with Hyunjin. 

"Baby, baby, baby, I-I cant hold off any longer-" Hyunjin gasped, before his hips stuttered, jerking a few times, and he finished inside of you with a few choked shudders. 

"I-I'm sorry," you whispered, as your orgasm faded, your mind still stuck on a certain math professor. One you hadn't so much as spoken to in months. 

Hyunjin deflated at your words. He knew that you had never finished properly with him. You cared too much about him to lie. But it hurt you to see him like this. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" 

You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "You're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll figure it out."

But you were upset at yourself. Why was it that whenever you merely thought about Changbin in bed, you were immediately pulled out of whatever aroused state you were in, only thinking about him? Because... you'd never felt the way you had fucking him. Even if you had a perfect relationship with Hyunjin. 

Had Changbin ruined all sex for you? 

Or had you not gotten him out of your system yet? 

—————————————

One week later...

You hustled down the hall towards your final class of the day, Advanced Syntax and Sentence Structure. It was one of your favorite courses, and you were always excited to attend. 

But not today. No, today, you were in a terrible mood. You had been for the entire week. 

Because all you could think about was the fact that you hadn't been able to properly orgasm for over three months. Was it too much to ask? To cum on your gorgeous boyfriend's cock? That was one of the many questions that had been circulating your brain during all waking hours. Along with, was this what having blue balls was like? If so, no wonder men got so touchy when they hadn't gotten laid. 

But the real — and perhaps more disconcerting — conundrum was the fact that you couldn't stop comparing your sex life with Hyunjin to your past foray with Changbin. And even more infuriating still? You'd only slept with that gorgeous buff, domineering, smart man once. He was a little, but not too much, older. And yet, he seemed more mature, and seemed to understand a woman's body better than anyone your age. And potentially because of that, you couldn't stop thinking about that single day in his classroom.

And what you hated the most was that you would never get to be with him, ever again. 

It wasn't that you didn't want to be with Hyunjin. Quite the opposite, in fact. You wanted to be with him for the long haul. You thought you could even see yourself falling in love with him. But as confident as he was, he wasn't as sexually experienced as some of your past partners. And certainly not as experienced as Changbin. 

"He could learn a thing or two from him..." you muttered before you even realized what you'd said, eyes narrowed as you stared down at your shoes. You regretted that thought, wishing you could just banish your hot former professor from your mind.

But before you could second guess your thoughts any further, you ran headfirst into something. Something much too warm and solid. 

—————————————

Changbin was overwhelmed. 

It was the final month of the last semester, and finals were quickly approaching. He was teaching five courses, the maximum number of classes a professor could take on in a semester. At the time, he thought it would be a breeze. Now, he was dearly regretting that decision. 

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose when they slipped down, his gaze buried in his papers while he walked. On top of all his regular responsibilities, a fellow professor and friend had fallen ill, and asked Changbin to sub for their class. He was in the English building, heading there now. In one hand, he held the class's lecture, which he hadn't read. In the other was the Calculus 3000 tests he'd given last week, and had yet to grade, his briefcase around his forearm. He took any free moment to remove a bit of his workload. 

Just as he was switching from his lecture to grading the test midair, the wind was knocked out of him, as something — or someone — ran headfirst into him. 

"Ah shit!" Changbin grunted, his papers spilling to the floor in a messy heap. Dammit, that was going to take at least a half hour to sort through, he thought grumpily.

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry! God, what a mess of a day..."

Changbin finally looked away from his papers, and back at the person who had run into him. His heart was suddenly thudding out of his chest, tongue feeling wrong in his mouth. Because he would recognize that voice anywhere. 

"M-Miss English Major," he croaked, his words broken and awkward. He could feel heat rising up his neck, as he took in the sight of you for the first time in almost five months. 

He'd never stopped thinking about you, even after all this time. Whether he was at home alone with nothing but his hand (doing less than savory things), or just sitting in his classroom, exhausted (don't worry, he wouldn't taint that room without you), his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to you. Not only had you shown him what mind-blowingly amazing sex was, but you were also an incredible person. He'd told you the truth, months ago. He'd never met anyone like you. And he still hadn't. And if his body, especially late at night, was anything to go off of, he still wanted you, badly. 

But while his memory of that single afternoon with you was clear as a freshly polished window, the intricate details of you had faded overtime. So seeing you now was a punch to the gut, one he would welcome, over and over again.

Because hell, you looked amazing. Even better than what his fantasies continually conjured up. The furrow between your eyebrows when you were distressed, the nape of your neck where a single freckle sat, or your addictive smell, one of orchids and new books. 

And your body. He swallowed hard, that lump staying lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Dressed in some kind of distressingly tight cropped t-shirt with the words "Cute Girls Club" written across the tits, he couldn't help but ogle you. Jesus, you were just walking around like that, for everyone to see? And you were doing this, while he sat oblivious, for months? He ground his teeth together in poorly pent-up frustration. How was he getting jealous over you, while you probably hadn't thought about him once? He should really get his shit together, and go to class.

But your eyes were his downfall. That gaze of yours flicked to his, filled with apology (why were you sorry, again?) and... something else. A darkness, one that wasn't there last he saw you. He frowned, all thoughts of abandoning you gone. He carefully studied your features, ones that he'd known so well, terrified that he might forget, or worse, never see again. 

Was something wrong? 

Your words from a few moments prior echoed in his mind. "God, what a mess of a day..." And upon closer inspection, there was a tension around your eyes, your mouth. Like it was a struggle just to smile. 

"Professor Seo." You nodded at him, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. That tempting, delicious mouth. Changbin tracked the movement hungrily. You averted your gaze, cheeks rosy, like you knew what he was doing. But the mere thought that he might have flustered you flooded him with a sense of relief and pride. But he could still see something was wearing on you. 

"Are you okay?" He leaned down so his face was level with yours. Your eyes widened, and he had the urge to grab you, and hold you to him, just for the chance to feel your body again. How had he endured this long outside of your presence? 

You shook your head, laughing weakly. "Oh, it's nothing. I wouldn't want to bother you with my stupid shit. Thank you though, Professor." And with that, you made to duck out of his way, and down the hall. 

"Wait!" The word flew from his mouth accidentally, but he didn't regret it. Because you turned back around, that tired look still encasing your breathtaking qualities. 

"Yes, Professor?" you asked softly. Just the sound of you saying those words brought back an entourage of memories, one that threatened to destroy him. His cock twitched in his pants, and he casually covered himself with his briefcase. Fuck, he could not be getting turned on in the middle of campus, right before class. 

He paused. He hadn't thought of what else to say, he just knew that you couldn't leave, not again. "I know we haven't talked in awhile but... you can always tell me what's going on." 

You stood there for a few seconds, pondering his offer. The two of you really had gotten to know each other over the semester you had taken his class. He hoped that you felt the same. 

"I-it's nothing," you repeated, but there was a quaver of anger hidden in those words. "It's just stuff with my boyfriend. I'm just, well, I'm frustrated-" 

But Changbin didn't hear anything past the word "boyfriend". His fists balled themselves at his sides, his breathing came fast and shallow, as he worked his jaw up and down so hard, he felt like his teeth might break. Red colored his vision.

So you had a boyfriend. Who the hell was he? Who had taken his girl from right under his nose? Hadn't the two of you connected like no one ever had? It had felt like soulmate shit, at least to him. 

But he supposed he hadn't made another move on you, after your singular rendezvous. And no matter how absolutely incredible it had been, he couldn't expect you to wait around for months. And since you were his student, and he'd been very skittish about any kind of relationship with you before he'd snapped like a taut rubber band, he couldn't blame you if you thought he'd changed his mind again. Maybe even thought he regretted his decision to fuck you in the first place. 

But that was so opposite from the truth, it made his chest hurt. He had to do something to rectify it. To get you back. Because you were his girl, weren't you? But what could he do? 

"Who is it?" he seethed, voice much angrier than he meant it. But he was just so fucking pissed, and even a little humiliated, that he had his chance, and fumbled, horrifically. 

You stared at him, stunned. "You know him," you began. "Hyunjin? We've been together for three months now." 

"Oh, the Hwang boy," Changbin scoffed, internally begging his mouth to close, for the next words not to be uttered. But jealousy spurred him on. "Well, there's your problem. There's no way he's satisfying you." 

Fuck, he groaned. That was sure to be the end, right? The end of this conversation, the end of a potential re-connection with you. You were going to cuss him out and walk away, never to be seen by him again. His jealousy probably just ruined something that could have been great. 

But you didn't do any of that. You just gaped at him, open-mouthed and lost for words. "Well, I- y-you don't know anything!" you stammered, cheeks bright red. "W-why would you think that??" 

Changbin paused, caught off guard. Was he... onto something? Was that Hwang boy not satisfying his queen? His beautiful, smart, creative English Major? Were you trying your best to be fulfilled, only for your boyfriend to fall short? Were you sexually frustrated? Yet another onslaught of dirty thoughts berated his mind, of you whimpering and begging your boyfriend to give you an orgasm, and every time, being denied. 

That just wouldn't do. He set his jaw, eyes narrowed with misplaced anger. At you, for leaving him. And the Hwang boy, for taking the woman he was just starting to realize the depths of his feelings for. And that jealousy started to coil deep in his stomach, a viper, ready to strike at this golden opportunity. 

No, Changbin, he inwardly warned himself. You can't say what you're thinking right now. That would be inappropriate, and grossly assuming that your feelings were anywhere near the same as his. You had a boyfriend, for fuck's sake. There was no way you wanted him anymore. It had been months ago. Things had changed. 

He really should go. 

"You know, if you're asking for advice... I recommend a more hands-on approach." Shut up Changbin, shut the fuck up. 

But again, you didn't leave. Your eyes just flicked back and forth, and you chewed on your lower lip, like you were actually contemplating it. 

After another painstaking ten seconds, you spoke. "Do you have a piece of paper?" you asked, eyes zeroing in on the humongous pile still on the floor. 

"Oh! Uh, yeah of course!" Changbin practically fell to the ground, scrambling to pick up his papers, trying to look semi-put together while doing so. He snatched up a page from his lecture notes, trying not to let nerves and confusion take over his senses. 

You slowly pulled a pen out from the inside of your shirt. Did you store pens in your bra? He salivated at the thought, and his cock stiffened in his pants once again. Dammit, how many times would he get a boner in a mere ten minutes spent around you? 

When you realized he was staring, you swallowed. "Uh, English major things," you said hastily, before handing him the pen, face so flushed and pretty, he wished he could reach out and kiss it. When he stared at you dumbly, you added, "Write your number on it. I'll text you." You smiled nervously at him. "If you're serious about your offer, that is." 

Changbin had never written anything faster in his entire life. You took the paper from his hand, and he swore you brushed your fingers against his on purpose. A cold sweat broke out across his body, sick satisfaction filling him. 

Holy hell, what had he just gotten himself into? 

—————————————

You'd always considered yourself to be a reasonably intelligent human being. But making rash decisions, fueled entirely by emotion? That was your fatal character flaw. And today was no different. 

But how could any girl with eyes deny Seo Changbin, especially when he was looking sexy as hell in his usual sweater and slacks combo, paired with those glasses that made him look like a big, sexy nerd? His hair was all mussed, and he had heavy eye bags, probably due to lack of sleep and finals fast approaching. And something about that haggard, hardworking professor was your undoing. 

And don't even get you started on when he practically started begging you to let him sleep with you one more time, as if he hadn't gotten enough the first time. Damn him for showing up at the same time that you were lusting after him! 

So yeah, you were just going to blame this whole messy situation on Changbin. That made everything easier. 

Well, not everything. You still had to find a way to breach the subject with your boyfriend. 

Of course, you could just pretend that the conversation between you and Changbin never happened, and just go about your life with Hyunjin like normal. And a large part of you, the cowardly part, wanted to do just that. 

But a much darker, hungrier side of you wanted this. Desperately. Possibly even needed it. It wasn't that you weren't absolutely obsessed with your boyfriend. Your desperation was, in part, because you were obsessed with him. You wanted this relationship to work so badly, that you were concocting insane ways to help him fully satisfy you. 

Something as insane as asking your past hookup to teach Hyunjin how to pleasure you. Because oh, what a remarkable job he'd done at it. Your cheeks warmed at the thought. 

Now, you were leaving campus after class, and heading to Hyunjin's apartment. He'd said he was making dinner tonight, and you were both excited and apprehensive to see the result. But the thing that was really stressing you out was deciding how to broach the conundrum you'd landed yourself in, which also happened to be a taboo topic. 

You knocked on the door, and you heard a clatter of pots and pans come from within. But you knew you were truly nervous, because you couldn't even focus on the idea of Hyunjin's cooking chaos. You needed to get this conversation over with, now. 

"Baby!" Hyunjin shoved the door open, a huge grin on his face. Something red was splattered across his nose, and a waft of tomato sauce emanated from inside. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you into the kitchen, where a pot of sauce was bubbling on the stove, next to some browned ground beef. He grinned, pointing at it proudly. "How does it look?? Amazing, right??" 

You smiled, unable to hide your relief. Both at seeing him so happy, and the fact there was no visible mess, yet. "It looks delicious. Is it almost ready?" 

He nodded. "The pasta is in the strainer over there, can you grab it for me?" 

The two of you finished making dinner together, laughing and talking about how your day went. There was no way you could bring up your conversation with Changbin now, right? You didn't think you could bear to see that gorgeous smile of Hyunjin's slide off his face when he heard that you'd been lusting after another man. Your stomach turned over at the thought. No, you would wait until after dinner. 

"As you know, I presented my second art final today!" Hyunjin was babbling, mouth full of spaghetti and meat sauce. "And I have to say, I think mine was one of the best. Not because it was a masterpiece or anything, but some of the others really sucked! Sorry, that sounds rude. They were uh... not good!" 

You tried to stay engaged with his story, but your thoughts kept straying, attempting to put together a script of what to say when you inevitably had to confess. 

"Baby? Baby? Babyyyy?" 

You snapped back to reality. Hyunjin was waving his pasta-filled fork in front of your face, a pout on his lips. 

"Ah! Sorry, what were you saying?" you asked, smiling innocently. 

He frowned, jabbing the utensil in your face accusingly. "You weren't listening to me?? Babe, what's up? You always listen to all of my stories!" 

"I know Hyun, I'm sorry." You reached out and took his hand. Yours was sweaty, so he was sure to know something was wrong. "Today was a... weird day." 

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, expression now one of concern. "Weird? How? Tell me!" 

So you proceeded to explain how you'd run into Changbin, and relayed the conversation you'd had. Hyunjin knew about your history with Changbin, because you'd told him about it when you'd become close.

So far, he didn't seem to mind that Changbin had asked about your sex life. That was a start. But before you could tell him the insane proposition Changbin had made, you stopped short, cheeks reddening at the thought. 

"And?" Hyunjin prompted. "I can tell there's more. After your history, he can't have just walked away." 

"No, he didn't," you mumbled, steeling yourself for the big reveal. "He... well, he basically offered to help us out, if we needed it. You know, in bed. And I might have... asked him for his number." You covered your face, as you felt like melting on the spot. 

Hyunjin sat next to you, the silence stretching painfully. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed yours, squeezing tightly. 

Stunned, you uncovered your eyes, chancing a peek at him. And Hyunjin was... smiling? At you? You took your hands away from your face entirely, gaping at him in surprise. You hadn't expected his reaction. What was his reaction? 

"Don't leave me hanging here, Hyun," you managed, laughing shakily as you gripped his hand like a lifeline. 

The hint of a smile curled into a full-on grin as he spoke. "You want to have a threesome with Professor Seo, baby?" 

You groaned, face bright scarlet. "I-I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first! I haven't texted him, or anything. But..." 

"But you haven't been able to cum with me," he prompted. "And... you did with him, right?" 

You nodded imperceptibly, unable to utter a word. 

"Do you still want to be with me?" 

You jerked your head furiously. "Yes! Yes, always, Hyun. I've never connected with anyone more, and I care about you so much. I would only want to do this if you wanted to! I don't want you to think that-" 

He laughed, shaking his head. "No I know baby, me too. I just wanted to make sure. Because... I've always thought it would be hot to see you with another guy. Did I ever think it would be my former math professor? Hell no. But if I could join too, then I would do anything to make you happy." 

Your eyes widened further, and it felt like your heart was going to explode, as you stared, speechless, at your boyfriend. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Did he... want to do this? Not just for you, but for his pleasure as well? 

"S-so you're saying that-" you stumbled over your words. 

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Go text him, baby." 

changbin

ms. english major

hi changbin

changbin

is this ms. english major? 

ms. english major

wow, didn't expect you 

to reply so quickly

changbin 

well, what is it? 

ms. english major

hyunjin and i talked

he agreed to it

changbin

oh really? and? 

ms. english major

why don't you come over to 

hyun's place tomorrow night? 9pm?

changbin 

wow, just assuming i'm 

free anytime you want? 

ms. english major

...

i'll send you the address.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Was Changbin making a dreadful mistake? 

Standing outside the door of Hyunjin's — your current boyfriend's — apartment, a wave of self doubt threatened to crash over him. Had he completely screwed up agreeing to share a taken woman? He never thought he would find himself in a situation even close to this. He wouldn't do this for anyone.

But you were different. You were you. Creative and witty, passionate in a way he'd never before witnessed, in both life goals and in bed. And on top of it all, he'd connected with you on another level. And now, he couldn't get you out of his head. This would all be worth it to sleep with you one more time. 

So he reached his hand up, and knocked on the door. 

After a solid twenty seconds, where Changbin could hear nothing except the terrified thudding of his own heart, the door swung open, and... there you stood. Donning nothing but a white silk robe, and a crafty smile. 

"Come in, Professor," you said, voice soft and sultry, words dripping like honey off your full, cherry-red lips. 

Changbin gulped, following you into the living room, mouth dry. In the soft orange light and the mystery of the night, you looked so delectable, he wanted to pry your legs open and take you right there, on the brown leather couch. 

"This is Hyunjin's apartment." You swept your arms around the space, flashing him a flirty grin that had his stomach clenching with desire. "Not that you'll be seeing much of it, outside of the bedroom." 

Changbin closed his eyes, trying not to pop a blood vessel from the boner already growing in his pants. Taking a precursory look around, he was impressed with the aesthetic Hyunjin had managed to curate on a college student budget. A mix of artsy and chic, with a smattering of eclectic colors that somehow all harmonized with one another, it truly looked like a home. It was much cozier than Changbin's townhome, which featured a lone picture of him and his close friends at the beach last year, and one gray couch in the living room. 

The abode of a true bachelor, he sighed to himself. If he ever wanted to invite you over, he would have to spruce it up, majorly. 

The two of you entered the bedroom, where Hyunjin was sitting at a desk, tapping away on his phone like this was just your average evening. Did you do this often? The disturbing idea forced its way into his mind. 

You smiled at him again, and the thought dissolved instantly. Hyunjin looked up, and immediately set his phone down, a look of apprehension and cautious excitement crossing his face. Was he just as nervous as Changbin? 

"Well, since this is our first time doing anything like this," you began, answering his question, "Hyun and I just want to make sure that you're sure that you're comfortable, and you want to do this. A-and we wanted to let you know that we're open to anything, since you're helping us. Right, babe?" You cut a glance at Hyunjin. 

The man nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I want to pleasure my girl. And... she said she had a great time with you before." He ducked his head. 

"And he doesn't mind sharing me, for the night," you added quietly, blushing prettily. 

Changbin bit his lip to keep from groaning aloud. Fuck, how did you know exactly how to turn him on? 

"Well, if you two are comfortable, then so am I," he started, turning to you, his voice lowering an octave, deep and hoarse. "As long as you're willing to follow my instructions." 

You immediately snapped to attention at his tone change, back going taut as a coiled spring. "Y-yes, Professor. Anything you want." 

Hyunjin watched with dark eyes, as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck baby, I didn't know rough language turned you on so much. I like it." 

"So, what's the real problem here?" Changbin asked, wondering exactly how much he could squeeze out of this little deal. "Is it him eating you out? The sex? Both?" 

"It's not the sex itself," you paused, chewing your lower lip. "It's just that I can't cum. I-I don't know why, but I just can't get there." 

Changbin nodded slowly. "Well, why don't we see what we're working with, huh?" He pointed at Hyunjin. "Show me how you eat her out." 

You smiled at him, lip wobbling from nerves. "Before we start, I have a little surprise for you. For both of you." 

Changbin watched, entranced, as you slowly removed your robe, body moving oh-so-sensually, revealing matching white and red lace lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. The lace across your perky breasts, the ribbons gracing your silky thighs, everything made his mouth water. You smiled, a sultry look, directly at Changbin, and he was instantly brought back to that day in his classroom, when he'd finally given in to the temptation to take you. That day had been a blur of hot red, as he blindly followed every urge he felt. 

As he grabbed you around the waist and pushed you into the mattress, planting a hard, searing kiss to your awaiting lips, it felt even better than that day. You were no longer in your school clothes. You were dressed so pretty, all for him. And he would take anything you were willing to give. 

And give you did. Wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer, moaning so sexily against his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth, you tasted of a desperation that he lapped up like syrup. Your hands slid into his hair and tugged, as the two of you explored one another like it was simultaneously the first time, and the one hundredth.

"I missed you, Professor," you whispered breathlessly, pupils blown wide as you finally broke the kiss. "I was scared you wouldn't agree to come tonight." 

He grinned, releasing you and allowing Hyunjin to take his place. "I could never say no to another chance with you, beautiful." 

Hyunjin knelt in front of you, licking his lips eagerly. "My irresistible baby," he crooned at you, pulling the white thong to the side and running his thumb through your already soaked cunt. 

You whimpered, immediately becoming putty beneath your boyfriend's touch. Sliding a hand into Hyunjin's long, wavy hair, you tugged him closer, lip pulled between your teeth, waiting with baited breath. "Please Hyun, your tongue," you begged. 

Changbin watched with reverence, trying to memorize every little reaction, every movement you made. 

Hyunjin acquiesced to your pleas without question, shoving his head between your legs as he opened his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking hard. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, as they both fucked in and out of you with abandon. 

Your hips bucked against his ministrations, incoherent words of desperation spilling from your lips as you reached for Changbin, eyes watery and filled with need. A sheen of sweat already glistened across your forehead, and Changbin was at your side in an instant, pressing kisses against you, relishing the salty taste. 

"You like that huh, sweetheart?" he growled, a deep rumble in his throat, as he moved his lips down your neck, across your collarbone, and to your breasts. "You like the feeling of your boyfriend eating your wet little pussy, while your professor sucks your nipples?" 

You cried out, and Hyunjin only increased his movements in response, the wet squelching of your cunt mixing with your garbled moans. Changbin latched onto a raised nipple and sucked harshly, biting at them, and making you squirm with sensitivity beneath his grasp. Hyunjin continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, his fingers stroking you desperately. 

You gripped Changbin's arms, and he knew your orgasm was looming closer and closer. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands moving to his hair and pulling as you wrapped your legs around Hyunjin's head, entire body shaking violently. 

"Y-yes, right there!" you pleaded, rocking your hips, hungry for more. Your gaze locked on Changbin, hot with lust, and his cock twitched in response. "Please, don't stop!" 

Hyunjin moaned raggedly against you, sending vibrations shivering through your sensitive nerves. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how amazing it felt, your orgasm... subsided. Disappeared. You whimpered softly, heart sinking. 

"Did you cum, love?" Hyunjin asked after a moment. But he already knew the answer. You hesitated, then shook your head. 

"It looked like you were really enjoying it," Changbin mused, pressing another kiss to your chest and standing up. "And not to be weird, but I think he was doing a good job."

"Do you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you, baby?" Hyunjin interrupted, continuing to rub gentle circles against your soaked pussy. "Every time he said something mean, you practically gushed on my tongue." 

You averted your gaze, cheeks red. But you nodded anyway. "Yes, I think... I think when he's mean to me, I get really turned on," you whispered, finally meeting Hyunjin's gaze. "I think it really pushes me over the edge."

Changbin nodded slowly, finally starting to understand. "Gorgeous?" he barked, and you stared at him with those wide, alluring eyes. He had to tear his gaze from yours to continue. "Hyunjin? You said you were willing to learn. Why don't you watch?" Changbin held his breath, hoping that Hyunjin wouldn't call him on his shit. Because if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself, just this once. 

Hyunjin paused, glancing at you in askance. You nodded silently, sending him an encouraging smile. With a jerk of his head, he moved slightly off to the side, while also giving himself a good view of what was happening. 

"I'm only doing it because my girlfriend wants this," Hyunjin warned. "And because I have no idea why she can't finish. I want to please her." 

Changbin chuckled. "Of course. And I'm here to help." With that, he grabbed both of your legs and spread them wide, positioning his hips between yours, leaning down, and capturing your lips with his. 

You moaned loudly against him, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, and grinding your soaked pantie-clad pussy against his pants. "Can I take your shirt off, Professor?" you whispered breathlessly, fingers already tugging at the hem. 

He nodded, the heat of embarrassment and pride climbing up his neck. He helped you remove his shirt, and then unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off, sighing in relief. His cock had been pressing against the confines of his jeans since he arrived. 

You rubbed your hand against his cock through his boxers, before expertly tugging them off, and stroking him to full hardness. He gritted his teeth so hard they hurt, his eyes shut tight as he tried to reign in some semblance of self control. He'd missed you so desperately, he ached. 

"Don't tease me, you little slut," he ground out, hips rocking against your touch insistently. 

"I'm not doing anything!" You blinked up at him, a devilish smile on your face, continuing to pump him, heavy in your hand. Fuck. His cock swelled further. You really were just a minx, weren't you? 

"I'm warning you, kitten," he hissed, eyes narrowed. When you didn't stop, he grabbed both of your hands, and pinned them by the wrists over your head, ignoring your squeals of protest. "That's it, I told you," he spat, positioning himself outside your entrance, which was dripping onto the blankets. 

"P-please Professor!" you gasped, panting with need. "Fuck me, please." 

"You don't deserve it, spiting me like a whore," he snapped. But he was so fucking turned on, he couldn't tease you for long. With a strangled growl, he filled you with one thrust, knees buckling at the heavenly sensation of your tight heat enveloping him, like you were made to fit his length. 

"God yes Professor, please fuck me faster." You clung to his arms, tears streaming down your face as you dug your heels into his back, pushing him deeper inside you. 

He nearly choked on his words, stars winking across his vision, as he began pounding in and out of you, balls slapping your pussy, the bed rocking with the power of his movements. "Fuck yes, take it," he snarled. "You'll take everything I give you." Was this what heaven felt like? You were so warm, molded to him so perfectly. His hips snapped against yours, all that pent-up tension spurring him on as he gave you everything he'd fantasized about over all these months. 

"O-oh yes, whatever you want Professor," you panted, warm cunt spasming around his rock hard cock. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum, please Professor, can I cum?" You reached your hand out to Hyunjin, and he immediately accepted, as you gazed pleadingly up at them both.

Without you having to ask, Changbin slid a hand down to your drenched, swollen clit. He rubbed fiercely until you were trembling against him, gasping in pleasure. Hyunjin watched, entranced, which sent a thrill of excitement zipping through Changbin, spurring him to pick up speed. God, you felt so fucking good. How had he spent this many months without indulging himself in your glorious body? 

You clung to his muscular arms, sobbing and babbling his name incoherently, pussy contracting, hips shuddering. Changbin could feel his orgasm coming, but he staved it off. He couldn't finish already, in the first round. He was doing this for you and your pleasure. 

"Cum for us, pretty girl," he commanded, punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. "Cum like the slut you are." 

You cried out, cunt so tight it felt like you were suffocating him. He couldn't breath, as you shook like a leaf, body taught, mouth opened in a wide "o". Your hand slid into his hair, tugging, as your hips shook and jerked uncontrollably. 

"F-fuck Professor, Hyun!" And with a wail, you finally toppled over the long-awaited edge, clinging to both men as you fell apart around Changbin's pulsing cock. 

He fucked you through it, gently stroking your clit, and reveling in your shivering, sweaty perfection, until you whimpered from overstimulation. He gently pulled out, and allowed Hyunjin to switch places, and hold you. 

"Oh my god," you panted, curling into your boyfriend's arms, catching your breath. "That was- that was amazing." 

"So what do you think, Hyunjin?" Changbin tried to act nonchalant, like he hadn't just had world-implodingly incredible sex. There was no way around it. He was addicted, and he needed more. But he had to stay true to his word, and give Hyunjin his turn. "Are you ready to try it yourself?" 

Hyunjin paused, gazing down lovingly at you in a way that made Changbin's heart squeeze. "So, you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you..." he said again. He slowly began removing his shirt, your eyes tracking him hungrily. 

You nodded, cheeks still flushed with post-sex elation. "I don't know why, but I think it's really hot," you murmured.

Hyunjin brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. Then, he spoke. 

"From now on, you will call me sir." 

The atmosphere immediately changed, like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. You stared at your boyfriend, usually such a sweet person, in shock. Changbin hid a laugh. Apparently, Hyunjin had caught onto the fact that you loved calling him "professor" in bed, and got turned on by the degrading nicknames and occasional spanking. But a single nickname wouldn't be enough to truly please you in bed. He would have to act the part, too. 

But apparently, Changbin had no reason to be concerned. 

"Climb on up here, and fuck me like the slut you are," Hyunjin demanded, slapping your ass, as he watched you expectantly. 

"Y-yes sir!" You scrambled to follow his demands, eyes still huge with nervous excitement. You unzipped Hyunjn's pants, and helped him strip off his boxers, allowing his long, pretty cock to spring free. He tugged his shirt off, and you stared in awe at his muscled torso. Changbin smirked down at you in satisfaction. At the end of the day, you just wanted to be dominated. 

"Okay angel, start grinding that wet little pussy all over him, okay?" Changbin instructed, wanting to see how you would react to him controlling the situation. 

You whined, but nodded, spreading your legs and rubbing yourself all over your boyfriend, causing him to grit out a moan, eyes squeezed shut, as pleasure washed over him. 

"And since she likes you to dominate her, maybe adjust her to where you want her, before fucking her," Changbin prodded Hyunjin, who immediately opened his eyes, and grabbed your hips with rough hands. 

"Yeah, right there," Hyunjin hissed, pressing you harder against his length, which was aching between your slender thighs, as he moved you against him. "Be a good girl, and let me fuck you how I want." 

Your lip wobbled, and you nodded, clinging to the threads of your desire. "Y-yes Hyun- I mean, sir. Please take me now." 

Hyunjin's eyes flicked over to Changbin, who just eyed him intently. With that silent approval, Hyunjin lined himself up outside of your aching cunt, and drove himself home, filling you to the brim. 

Instantaneously, the room was filled with a chorus of both of your moans. You gripped his slim arms tightly, leaving moon-shaped crescents on his skin, as his veins became more prominent beneath your hands. He growled raggedly against your ear and his hips snapped up against yours, power growing and growing, as you cried into his chest. 

"Y-yes, fuck me harder!" you begged, tears wetting your lash line. 

"What do you call me, my little slut?" Hyunjin ground out, possessive gaze burning a trail across your skin. 

"S-sir, please!" you implored, pressing repeated kisses across his hard pecs. "More!" 

"Touch her," Changbin ordered. "She's shaking like a little bitch, it'll make her fall apart around you." 

Hyunjin reached a hand between your legs, rubbing rough circles across your aching clit, causing you to shudder and grind yourself needily against him. 

"Be gentler, she'll get rug burn if you go much faster," Changbin snapped, and Hyunjin slowed down, stroking you with a tender touch. 

"O-oh fuck, I think I'm close!" you gasped, chest wracked with sobs of pleasure as you bounced yourself on your boyfriend's cock, squeezing him so tight he struggled to breathe. "Please don't stop sir, please! Can I- can I cum-" 

"Yes angel, cum on me like the whore you are," Hyunjin bit the shell of your earlobe, not relinquishing his relentlessly fast pace in and out of you. 

You tumbled over the edge, mouth open on a soundless cry, nails digging deep into his arms, as you trembled around him so violently, he had to grip you hard to keep you stable, lights winking in front of your eyes as you reveled in the sensation of your boyfriend balls-deep inside you. Your pussy was made for him, made for Changbin. Made for the two of them. Small whines of Hyunjin's name were the only things to escape your kiss-swollen lips, as you rode out your high. 

Hyunjin's hips stuttered as you came, the warmth and wetness of your perfect little pussy squeezing him so tight, milking him dry. He thrusted his hips messily in and out of you a couple more times, before spurting a load of white liquid into you, fucking the mix of both of your cum into your tired body. 

You collapsed on top of him, a sweaty, but satisfied mess. "You-you-" you babbled softly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair adoringly. You glanced up at Changbin, a shy smile on your face. 

Changbin grinned down at you, a bit uncomfortable. Should he still be here? "How was that, love?" he asked, voice a deep rasp. 

"I-it was amazing Professor," you breathed, a look of wonder in your eyes. "Thank you."

Hyunjin glanced at Changbin, an uncertain look crossing his face. "Would you like to... join us?" he offered, glancing at you fleetingly. "I bet she'd enjoy it. You're down for another round, right angel?"

You turned around, having been kissing up and down Hyunjin's sweaty neck. You stared up at Changbin with a look that had his cock instantly springing to life, and a groan rising in his throat. "I would love for you to join, Professor," you breathed, presenting your ass to him like a dessert on a platter, smiling coquettishly at Hyunjin. You added, "I'm always ready, if it's with both of you."

"Well shit," Changbin growled, striding over, hands clenched at his sides. "How could I say no to that?" 

You climbed back onto Hyunjin's lap and gripped his cock, already ready for a second round. You lined up his hard cock outside of your pussy, which was still dripping wet. You closed your eyes, biting your lower lip in anticipation, before slowly impaling yourself on his perfect length. 

The two of you let out simultaneous moans of delight, as you began bouncing up and down on top of him, the slapping sounds filling the room, as you squealed and whimpered with tantalizing desire. 

Hyunjin grabbed your ass, fucking you over and over on his length, moving you rapidly, in tune with his own pleasure. "Fuck, you're an eager little slut tonight, aren't you?" he hissed, eyes glazed over with unbridled ecstasy, as he drank in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.

"Fuck me harder, sir!" you whined, hands pressing into his broad chest, as you looked back at Changbin, who was drinking in the sight before him with relish. "Professor, aren't you going to join in? I've always wanted a thick cock inside my ass." 

A rumble vibrated inside his throat. From the sound of it, you'd never been fucked by two guys at the same time, and not at all in your ass. Maybe you'd even dreamed about it being him. And the mere idea of that had him seeking a bottle of lube, which sat on your nightstand, and starting to prep the two of you. His heart thudded in his chest, just thinking about how tight you would be. 

"If my perfect babygirl wants me there, then I'm happy to oblige," he growled through the pleasure, and you shook your ass at him in response, as you continued to roll your hips against Hyunjin, teasing desperate moans and hitched breaths from his lips. 

He began running his pointer finger against the puckered entrance, and you trembled beneath him, clenching around Hyunjin, who growled a curse. 

"Relax, baby," Changbin crooned, inching his finger slowly inside of you. "I need to stretch you out before you can even hope to take me." 

You choked on a gasp at the foreign sensation, trying to turn around and look. But Hyunjin gripped your jaw to keep you facing him, as he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy, his movements becoming sloppier by the second. So instead, you tangled your hands in your boyfriend's long hair, desperate, ragged sobs muffled by his chest, as he continued to have his way with you. 

"Does that feel good, angel?" Hyunjin stroked the flawless skin of your back, as he snapped his hips up against yours, keeping a cruel pace despite the fact you'd gone boneless on top of him. 

You let out a broken moan, nodding your head as you pressed feverish kisses to neck, and down his chest. Hyunjin shuddered at your touch, continuing to pound into your ruined cunt. 

"Just like that, baby," Changbin praised, kneading the soft skin of your ass, as he gently removed his finger, and inched the tip of his cock past the tight ring of your hole. He trembled at the sensation, vision going foggy with pleasure as he rocked his hips further against you, until he was halfway inside. 

"A-ah shit Bin- I mean, Professor!" you cried, clenching around him instinctively. "Fuck, you're huge." 

"You'll take him, like the slut you are," Hyunjin barked, pulling your hair so you met his gaze. "I bet you like him stretching out your ass like that, huh?" 

"I-I-" you stammered, face reddening. "Y-yes sir, I love it," you croaked, voice cracking, as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. 

"Tell him what you want," Hyunjin prompted, and you keened against him, arms wrapped around his neck as pleasure thrummed in your veins. 

You slowly turned around to face Changbin, who swallowed hard. He was desperately trying to fend off his already incoming orgasm, but that fucked out look you were giving him was making it damn near impossible. 

"Please go deeper, Professor," you whimpered, voice throatier and more strained than he'd ever heard. "Don't be gentle, I can take it." 

"Fuck, kitten," Changbin uttered, steeling himself for the blinding pleasure that was sure to come. With that, he rolled his hips against your plush ass, and buried himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust. 

The movement drove Hyunjin's cock even deeper inside of your aching pussy, causing the man to let out a surprised, guttural moan. He hit the soft spongy part inside of you that until now, only Changbin had found, and you were shuddering and begging for more, both from the foreign sensation of two men inside of you, and the euphoria of your boyfriend pleasuring you like he never had. 

Fuck, this was going to kill him, was all that echoed through Changbin's muddled mind as he slammed in and out, lost in the suffocating tightness of you, the way you smelled, looked, sounded, as he destroyed you. Even as you clenched around him, he didn't let up his pace, pulling out all the way, only to drive himself home each time. No woman had affected him in the least. Now, he couldn't help but become drunk on your very essence. 

"Sir, Professor, I think I'm close," you whimpered, words slurring together you writhed between them, pussy contracting around Hyunjin like a vice. "C-can I cum now?"

"I'm close too," Hyunjin wheezed, his hips jerking up and down uncontrollably, as he pulled you down for a messy kiss, full of tongue and teeth. "Cum with me baby." 

"Professor, p-please cum inside me?" You shuddered against him, as he leaned down and nipped the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning against your cheek. 

"Shit, I'm already about to bust," he growled, voice strained as he continued to hammer his pulsing cock in and out of you. But he was starting to lose control. You did this to him, made him go insane. "Are you proud of yourself, you little whore? Making me lose my composure like this? Having your professor cum inside you? Fill you up so well?" 

"Oh my god, yes!" you wailed, your entire body arching against the two men who held you between them, tremors wracking your body in waves. Hyunjin was stroking your clit in messy circles, sucking on your neck as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. "Fuck, you both feel so good, I-I'm gonna-" 

And before you could finish your sentence, you let go for the last time, entire body quivering with the orgasm you'd been desperately waiting for, until tonight. You clutched Hyunjin's hair in your hands, back bowing into Changbin's shuddering hips, as you finished around both men, in a whimpering, spasming mess, crying incoherently, the only words Changbin could understand being "sir", "professor", and "please". 

Hyunjin finished next, gasping out your name as he bullied his throbbing length into you with growing need, letting out soft moans and whines, those full lips devouring yours hungrily, as he fell apart, spilling his load inside of you, milky cum leaking from your pussy down your leg, and onto the blanket. 

Changbin was the last to get there, as he gripped your slender waist so tightly in his rough hands, he thought he might break you. His balls contracted painfully, as he trembled above you, the sensation of you squeezing him as you came almost causing him to pass out. "Mine, mine mine," he repeated, harshly sucking the skin on your neck as you nearly collapsed underneath him. But he pulled you up, and held you flush against his chest, continuing to pound mercilessly in and out of you, grunting and growling into your soft hair. His hips twitched and jerked, and he came inside you, so hard he had to hold onto you for purchase. 

The three of you collapsed onto the mattress, your tongue lolling from your mouth, completely fucked out, body still wracked with the shockwaves of the intense lovemaking. Hyunjin curled into you, becoming the little spoon, as he kissed the backs of your hands, murmuring praise upon praise. 

"You did so good, pretty girl," he murmured adoringly, as you continued to play with his hair, kissing up and down his neck and giggling sleepily. 

Changbin watched the two of them, a distinct sensation of discomfort washing over him. He'd done his job, which was helping your and Hyunjin's sex life. And now the two of you were clearly happy without him. He should probably see himself out. 

But as he started to grab his clothes and get dressed, you rolled over to face him, a confused look on your face. 

"Bin, where are you going?" you asked, voice hoarse with overuse. You looked as beautiful as ever, hair wild and messy, skin glowing after getting properly fucked by the two men you were obsessed with. 

Changbin swallowed, forcing himself to be cordial. "I thought now that I did my job, I should leave." 

You reached a hand out to him, a pleading smile lighting your face. You glanced at Hyunjin for approval, and he nodded. "What if I didn't want you to leave, Professor?" 

Changbin smiled, cheeks warming. "Then I'd stay for as long as you like."

laska’s note —

well well well… if you’re reading this note, you must have reached the end of this one shot, and (probably) the end of the two-part series! if you haven’t read the first part, yes, professor, i have it linked at the beginning of this post. i promise, it’s worth the read, and this one shot might make more sense. 

i apologize for the very long wait, i know many of you have been eagerly awaiting another installment! i hope it was worth it, even though it was incredibly long 🫣 i hold myself to a high standard when it comes to my writing, so i combed through this thing multiple times. i hope it lived up to your expectations, and i hope i will have more time to write spicy one shots for you all in the new year, because i have a lot of great ideas 😏

[megamindsecretlair]

Sweet Escape, Part 3

Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, mental health, power imbalance. Mentions of violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. Finally landing in LA, your boots hit the ground and you’re off in a whirlwind of getting prepared. During rehearsal, your agent shows up causing a ruckus. After you take a break, you wake up to the sound of desperate pounding on your door.

Word Count: 6,676k

AO3 Link | Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW. Sorry for my absence yall. My brain got hands. And I didn't mean to scare folks away! You can absolutely ask about my fics! Asking for an update just doesn't help. But sharing your love for it motivates me a lot faster! And you can thank @onherereading for gently bullying me to post sumn! LOL, love you. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Male dancers lifted you into the air and you continued singing the hook to your most popular song, “Eat It”. It stayed on the charts, week after week, remaining strong and steady. And it was the song that most got you in trouble for the explicit lyrics. 

You sang, testing the sound as well as the choreography on stage. Coming to LA had been a non-stop shit show of rehearsals and talk shows and radio interviews. God, you were tired. And you wanted to lay down and pig out in front of the TV. But nooooo.

Plus…well….you weren’t feeling particularly sexy at the moment. Terry rejecting you the other night shook you up more than you cared to admit. Why would he reject you? You were beautiful, smart, and funny on a great day. And yet, nothing.

There were just lingering glances and moments where it looked like he wanted to say something but never did. You didn’t like the cold front you suddenly found yourself in so you kept yourself busy, distracted, and left no room for you to be left alone with him for longer than a minute or two. 

But the hit to your confidence bruised. You didn’t feel normal. Like none of this was real. It was a cruel illusion that could be snatched away from one viral tweet, one public meltdown, or one scandal to torpedo your career. The stalker ate away at your life until you couldn’t even get a guy to fuck you stupid. 

It was embarrassing. It was stupid. He was stupid. 

“Stop! Stop! What the fuck is that?” A booming, obnoxious voice echoed in the empty stadium. 

“Down boys,” you said. The male dancers moved safely, bringing you back down to stand on your own two feet. One of their hands lingered a fraction too long, but you didn’t know if you were being paranoid or not. 

Jake, your stupid agent, came huffing down the front area aisle, a skinny tie swinging behind him. “What the fuck is that? What are you doing?” Jake demanded. He stomped onto the stage and approached you.

“Lower your fucking tone, I’m not a child,” you said. You sneered at him and then crossed the stage, taking the three steps down to the backstage area. You refused to be chewed out in front of your team.

Jake stomped angrily behind you. Terry leaned against the wall near the exit but when he saw you approach, he straightened up. You looked away from him quickly, not wanting him to see what must be written all over your face whenever you looked at him. 

“Who do you think you are?” You asked, pulling on that bitchy persona. 

“The man making sure that fat ass stays rolling in money. You are selling a fantasy up there. Every guy needs to feel like he’s fucking you and every woman needs to feel like they want to be you,” he said.

“Really, tell me more about the job I’ve been doing for years,” you said.

“Thanks to me, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget that,” Jake spat, pointing his finger in your face. Ugh. You smacked his finger away and crossed your arms. Jake was back on that shit. His neck and face was flushed cherry red, his eyes were glossy, and he sniffed every two seconds like he smelled something bad. 

“You can’t stay sober for two fucking seconds, Jake. Is that what happened at the club?” That would explain the bullshit he pulled.

“Hey. You’re fucking welcome. That free publicity gained you a million more followers and featured on Spotify. Who takes care of you?” Jake asked, spreading his arms wide. 

You were so disgusted, you didn’t know what to do with him. Ugh. You breathed through your nostrils, centering yourself on the feeling of it rather than wanting to wring Jake’s neck. 

You leveled him with a glare and leaned in. “I take care of you, you piece of shit. And if you pull something like that again, I’ll fire you. Stay off the drugs, Jake,” you said. The last thing you needed was to end up on TMZ, because your agent was out on another embarrassing bender. 

Jake pressed his lips together and threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. Look at me. I ain’t on no shit, okay. I heard you the last time. Clean my act up and I can stay, right? I got a suit on and everything,” he said. He spread his arms out and smiled but you weren’t in a smiling mood.

Jake pouted and wrapped his hands around your waist. A waft of cigarette smoke burned your nose and made your eyes tear up. Terry pushed away from the wall but you held up a hand to him. “Remove your hands before I break your fingers,” you said, as calmly as you could muster. 

You didn’t have time for this fucking clown. And where the fuck was Joya or Mirage? They knew better than to let Jake near you while you were in work mode. 

Jake squeezed your hips once before he removed his hands and held them up like he was so innocent. He grinned and looked down his hooked nose at you. “Just remember what’s standing between you and popping your pussy for any producer that wants to sniff after you. Clean this shit up, we have money to make,” he said lowly for your benefit. 

You didn’t know how much Terry could hear but it stung either way. Jake loved throwing that shit in your face. Loved making you think that you were some gutter rat that no one wanted. Grammy Bean wanted you. You were somebody. And no agent was going to make you feel less than. 

“Make them think they’re fucking you while you’re up there. Jesus Christ,” Jake said, needing to have the final word. He took off, disappeared to go yell at somebody about something. 

You rubbed your head, fighting back tears. Got dammit. Once you let the dam fall, the whole thing came crashing down. You didn’t have time to cry right now. Now when everyone was expecting you to lead them. 

“You okay?” Terry asked. 

You tilted your head back and swiped at your eyelids, catching the tears before they had a chance to fall. The one blessing about rehearsals was that there was no make up or restrictive clothing. You sniffled once and then straightened your shoulders, rolling your neck to get the kinks out. 

“I’m fine, Mr. Terry, thank you,” you said.

“So we’re back to Mr. Terry?” He asked softly. 

You risked a glance at him. He squinted at you, his face tilted down. You held each other’s gazes for a second longer than what was polite. You went to open your mouth when Mirage tumbled down the stairs and stopped short of where you were standing.

“Jake’s ready to see it again,” she said quietly. 

You turned away from Terry’s intense eyes, and nodded. “Let’s give him a show then,” you said.

You went back on stage and talked to your dancers, letting them know that you were going full out. You signed to the sound engineer to start from the top. 

The choreography began with the dancers standing in front of you. Once the opening lyrics started, you moved around the stage singing and rapping about men catering to women’s needs for once. That if they can’t eat it right then there was no reason to let them hit. 

The male dancers lifted you during the hook, supporting your weight while you sang and rubbed your hand along your body. You were a master at pretending. At working off the energy in the room. 

You fed off of the song and the lyrics. Embodied what you were saying. Pulled on your inner sex goddess to coo to the invisible audience. Even though you wore your favorite blue joggers and a tank top, you felt like you were scantily clad in your performance outfit. You were selling a fantasy. A fantasy that everyone wanted a ride but no one met the height requirements.

The dancers put you down and then held your hand up while you dropped it low on one of them. From this angle, you faced the side of the stage where Terry stared at you. Stared as you rapped and sang about getting ate out and having a super soaker to make him drown.

He may have turned you down the other night, but the heat of his gaze made your belly flip. Made you move harder, rap faster, and sing better like you were a siren luring men to do your bidding. 

Your eyes almost never left his as you pretended to sing to him and make him think about what he turned down. Let him think on it. Because he couldn’t have you now. You were off the menu. 

He was too far away and you were moving too fast to get a good read on his expression. He stood stiffly, feet shoulder width apart, and his hands clasped in front of him. As the song drew to a close, you winked at him before tilting your head back and belting out the final notes.

When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from the intense static of his stormy eyes to the sound of clapping from somewhere.

“Yes! Yes! That’s what they’re coming to see. Do that! Exactly that!” Jake yelled out to you. 

“Take a thirty everyone,” you said, panting from going full out for rehearsal. You stood on stage with your hands behind your head, panting, trying to catch your breath and cool the desire low in your belly.

Fuck. Singing to Terry like that affected you way more than you realized. It maybe wasn’t the smartest move in hindsight. You just needed a good twenty minutes to get yourself off.

Joya climbed onto the stage to hand you a bottle of water and some orange slices. “I put some more fruit in your dressing room in case you wanted it,” she said. 

“I love you, seriously,” you told her with a smile. 

She clutched her calendar to her chest and beamed at you. “I love you too, miss lady. Though you’re probably going to hate me now. They need you back for another fitting. Francois changed his mind,” Joya said.

You emptied the bottle of water she handed you in one fell swoop and wiped your mouth. “This is bullshit. We made a whole schedule to make sure everyone, including me, was happy about this tour,” you said.

You hated to sound like a whiny brat but fuck. It seemed like more and more things were getting added onto your schedule, things you didn’t approve of. You weren’t a machine. Did they expect you to keep working until you collapsed on stage? 

Joya smiled and rubbed your shoulder. “I’m gonna check with Mirage and see what we can do about sneaking you some off time. We have a week before the LA leg starts. Surely we can move something,” she promised.

You sighed. “I don’t want you to do all that extra work. I need to yell at Jake some more. He can’t keep adding in stuff last minute. I’m so fucking tired, bro,” you told her.

“It’s our job to make sure you’re good. Let us,” she said. She took your empty water bottle and scurried off to tend to her duties. 

The dancers were all standing around talking and laughing. Stage hands moved around the stage, talking into their microphones, and moved prop elements as they did so. As much as you wanted to join the dancers or speak to the choreographer, you also wanted two minutes of peace. 

But that meant…stepping past Terry. You rolled your shoulders. You were a big girl. You could handle rejection. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

You turned and headed off stage, taking three steps down to the main floor. There were boxes and studio equipment spread out back here, each tagged with different colored tape. Terry eyed you as you approached.

“I’m just heading to the dressing room for a few,” you told him. 

He nodded and fell in step behind you as you walked through a set of double doors, then into a plain hallway backstage. Stage hands moved around but they all moved with focus and purpose. Your sneakers squeaked on the shiny floor. Terry was so quiet behind you, you were tempted to look back to make sure he was still there. But you also got the funny sense that if you did, he’d disappear.

When you approached your dressing room, you hesitated one step from it. Logically, you knew that there was nothing in there. Terry had his team triple the security around you and you hadn’t heard from your stalker since that incident.

It’d be so much easier if you knew what they were after. Did they want to be with you? An obsessed fan you could deal with. You just ignored those wackadoodles until they made themselves known somehow. 

Did they want to kill you? Clearly he had a way to get in and out unseen. Was he someone on your team? You didn’t want to turn into a paranoid loon, looking at everyone with suspicion and further isolate yourself. But fuck.

“Would you like me to check?” Terry asked.

You stared at your navy blue door and bit your lip. Yes….no….you wanted to be brave. Wanted to handle this yourself. But you didn’t know if there would be some other disgusting rendition of your dead face staring right back at you. 

You took a deep breath and prepared to tell him no. Terry stepped forward. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.

You deflated with a sigh. “Can you check please?” You asked.

Terry moved around you and then unsheathed his weapon. He held it down and away from him and then opened your door. He went in first, moving around the space, holding the gun up. You stayed outside of the door, watching him flit through the crack of the door jam. 

The air turned colder now that he wasn’t beside you. The hallway seemed to close in on you, getting smaller and smaller. Your breathing turned choppy, looking down one way and then the other. 

When you simply couldn’t take another second, Terry emerged from your dressing room and holstered his gun. “All clear,” he said.

You nodded and refused to look at him. “Thank you. I just need some alone time,” you said.

You shuffled past him and he held onto your wrist to stop you. You didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to face him. 

“You don’t have to be formal around me. If I crossed the line the other day, I can transfer…”

“No!” You practically screeched and turned to him finally. You licked your lips and smiled. “I mean, no, no. If anything, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it uncomfortable –”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“I’m the boss, you’re in my employ. Please, don’t think nothing else about it. Okay?” You asked.

Terry’s jaw flexed but he nodded. You snatched your wrist away and entered your dressing room, rubbing the spot where his fingers had been. It was as if he seared you with his light grip and the burn lingered.

You damn near slammed the door in his face, locking it behind you. You just needed a second. A moment to breathe and not have to be “on” for people. 

You crossed the small room to the black leather couch and sat down. The coolness of the leather did precious little to calm you down. You weren’t in danger. You weren’t immediately in danger. 

Terry checked the room, he came highly recommended by the firm, and so far, he had been nothing but the consummate professional, taking your safety seriously. 

As you sat there, however, it just drudged up all the horrible shit from your past. Breaking away from your user family. On your knees begging producers to give you a chance, only for them to use their position and power to solicit sex. One talk with Jake shook you up so bad that it reminded you that every day you breathed was a gift, thanks to what you had to do to survive. 

But it had been a long, long time since you had to be this on edge. This hyper aware of your safety and mortality. Someone out there wanted to cause you harm. They wanted you mentally, emotionally, and physically cowering.

Even as you knew that, even as the logic of it settled in your bones, the only thing you could think was that someone wanted you dead. Someone deemed your life less than theirs. Someone felt angry enough about your existence to make your life a living hell and ultimately, remove you from this plane of existence. 

It chilled you to the bone. To your absolute core. One wrong move and then this would have all been for nothing. All of the struggles, all of the navigating, all of the ways you had to scrimp and scrape to be somebody. 

In the end, you were the same, lonely teenager who didn’t want to be invisible anymore. 

The sweet scent of fruit reminded you of Joya’s thoughtfulness but you were too sick to eat anymore. Maybe you just needed to lay down. You scooted along the couch until you could recline. 

You shoved a throw pillow behind your head and closed your eyes. You just needed to breathe. Just needed to focus on that and nothing else. Nothing else. Just that.

You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth. You felt your body sink further into the couch and before long, you were out like a light.

Loud banging disturbed you from your sleep. You woke up in a pool of cold sweat running down your neck and into your tank top. You groaned and blinked into the harsh overhead lighting. 

Your eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep and eye crusties, as your eyes swept through the room. There was a director’s chair in front of the vanity, lit up by giant light bulbs all around the mirror. The countertop was littered with makeup, tissues, and hair products. 

Dressing room. “Fuck,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. 

The banging continued, sounding louder than normal. “I’m up, I’m up, I’m sorry!” You groaned. Fuck, you felt like you had been drugged.

Your rapid heart beats only sped up as you thought about what you had earlier in the day. Had you been drugged? Was it Joya?

The banging increased and the door shook with the force. It disrupted your thoughts enough to know that Joya would never, ever do something like that to you. Besides, she’s had years to take you out. 

You still made a mental note to give her a pay bump. Mirage too. You keep them happy and they’d keep you happy. 

Three succinct booms hit the door and you jumped up. “Okay, I said I was sorry! Damn! It couldn't have been more than…” You stood up and crossed the room, unlocking the door to discover no one on the other side. “Ten minutes.” 

You stepped out of the room and looked both ways down the empty hallway. Terry was nowhere to be found. 

“Terry?” You stepped further into the hallway but it was as quiet as a tomb. The space felt empty and that freaked you out more than anything else. 

How long had you been sleep? Why did no one wake you? Where was everyone? 

A tremor made your hands shake and your fingers turned numb. Did…no one care? If they couldn’t find you, did they all just pack up and leave? 

“This isn’t funny,” you called out but there was no answer. Not even an echo. Your throat turned dry as you made your way back to the stage. Maybe everyone was having a team meeting. Maybe Joya and Mirage found a way to give you some breathing room.

You pushed open the door to the stage and walked up onto it, only to discover no one in sight. The main stage lights were off, leaving the stage bathed in a swirl of blues, purples, and reds. 

You shielded your eyes. “Hello? What the hell!” You yelled. This was beyond fucking uncool. And your phone was either in your room or with Joya, so you had no clue what time it was.

Panic clawed its way from your belly to your chest, scratching your insides with thick, angry nails. Did everyone just…forget about you? 

You brought your hand to your chest as if that would do anything. All it did was call attention to your thumping heart, beating incessantly. Everyone forgot you. No one needed you. 

“Okay, okay, okay, that’s okay,” you murmured to yourself as you paced around the stage. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. 

If everyone left, that was okay. You were paying them to care, but it didn’t mean that their lives ended just to serve your overinflated ego. You would just…go find your purse in your room. You would grab your phone. Order a car to take you home. Easy. Simple. You had this. 

You told yourself that as you left the empty stage, back down the stairs, and away from backstage. You headed down the hallway, rubbing your sweaty hands on your joggers. You were just stressed, that was it.

You approached your dressing room, it had been left open from when you left it. There didn’t seem to be anyone in there. But…still.

You approached cautiously, wondering what the fuck was going on. How did everyone just leave like that? No matter their personal lives, this was unprofessional as fuck. If they called it early, they should have had the decency to let you know. And why would Terry abandon his post? It was quite literally his job to guard your body.

Highly recommended, yeah right. 

You made it to your dressing room and peered inside, stepping inward to check behind the door. Good. No one there. You stepped further into the room before it dawned on you that if no one was there, if no one was around…who the fuck banged on the door? 

You turned slowly just as a bat came swinging towards your head. You leapt out of the way with a scream, throwing yourself against the vanity. 

A figure dressed head to toe in black lifted the baseball bat to his shoulders. The figure was on the small side, but broad. Had to be a man. 

“What do you want from me?” You yelled. You moved the director’s chair in front of you, to deter the figure. He only kept advancing, holding the bat like you were the game winning ball and he needed a home run. 

You lifted the chair and threw it at him, running from the room. Facing three possible directions, you forgot where the exit was. You also forgot how to read, because there were signs but it didn’t make any sense at the moment.

The figure groaned and it spurned you to run, to flee, to find the exit however you were able to. Thundering footsteps boomed behind you as you ran away. Your lungs felt like they were going to go flying out of your mouth. They burned and ached as you ran and ran.

All of the exercise and training you kept up with did fuck all when faced with an actual attacker. Your brain was mush, operating on some basic instinct to survive. You were supposed to be smarter than this, right? 

You risked a glance behind you just in time to see the bat swinging for your head. You fell to the floor to miss it, landing hard on your thigh, and then scrambled across the floor to avoid another swing for your head.

You pulled nearby crates towards you, dollies, and anything else you could pull. One of the crates managed to trip up your attacker. You rushed to your feet, running through the nearest door.

The door banged open against the wall, echoing in the larger chamber. You made it back to the stage and those same lights blinded you as you ran across the stage. Your body felt stiff, achy, as it wanted nothing more than to stop and evaluate.

Stopping meant death. Stopping meant that your attacker had another chance to get you. 

Stopping meant – you were pushed forward and you fell, sliding across the stage. Your chin bounced against the hard floor and you groaned as your teeth clacked painfully. Pain shot through your jaw and you groaned.

A strong hand gripped you by your ponytail and yanked. You screamed as your head was pulled backwards. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be what took you out. This couldn’t, this couldn’t–

You kicked and flailed until your shoe connected with something. There was a harsh, low growl as the grip around your hair lessened enough for you to break free. 

You got to your feet, thigh screaming in pain as you limped back to your dressing room. If nothing else, you could lock the door and call for help. It was your final hope. You weren’t going out like this. You didn’t need anyone.

You limped past the door to the hallway, stopping long enough to bar it momentarily with a cart. It wouldn’t hold the attacker for long, but it’d buy you some time. Fuck. Everything fucking hurt. 

Liquid dripped down your chin. You swiped at it and it came away red. You groaned as you stared at your own blood. Literally at your life leaking from your body. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you huffed as you limped to your dressing room. 

Metal double doors slammed up against the crate you pushed against the door. You looked back to see an arm flailing through trying to push the crate. Fuck, fuck. Your vision turned blurry as you limped.

It seemed like every step you took only made the dressing room seem further and further back. It looked so far away, like you were never going to find salvation. 

“Someone! Please,” you called out.

You tripped over your shoes and went tumbling forward, landing awkwardly on the same thigh that already cried out with pain. You sniffled as tears ran down your face. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to fucking do.

The crate crashed against the wall as it finally rolled free. “No!” You yelled out, finding enough strength to get back to your feet. So close, so close, so close, so close –

Your name echoed down the hallway as a thunder of boots ran closer to you. You turned around, expecting to see your attacker and that damn bat, but there was no one behind you. Nothing.

You shook violently and swayed to your right, nearly colliding with the wall. You held out your hand to stop your entire body from crashing against it and then used the wall to hold yourself up. 

The storm of boots turned the corner. Terry lead the charge and checked your room first and then swiveled. He called your name. Fuck, you’d never been more happy to see someone. 

“Terry!” You yelled. 

His head snapped in your direction and he crossed the hallway in long, determined strides. You swiped at your tears and leaned on your good leg, trying to make yourself look less pathetic.

Terry slowed as he approached you, holding up his hands. He stopped short when he got a good look at you. 

“Who the fuck did this?” He asked, his chest heaving with harsh breaths. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you said, your voice pitching higher and higher. You began to slide down the wall, all fight leaving you completely. He was here. He was here. He didn’t forget about you.

Terry caught you around your middle, shouldering most of your weight. He reached out and gently cupped your face, moving it from one side to the next. His jaw flexed as his eyes scanned over you, taking in all of your injuries. 

He was joined a second later by members of his team and the studio security. Questions were lobbed at you in rapid succession but your brain had turned cloudy. 

“You’re in shock. She’s in shock, back up!” Terry yelled. The mass of bodies dispersed as Terry half-carried, half-walked with you to your dressing room. 

“I woke up and there was no one–”

“Shh, shh, not yet,” he said. 

Just this once…this one brief moment, you let yourself lean on someone else. Terry handled everyone with all the command of a general, parting the sea of looky-loo’s, likely taking photos of you at your most vulnerable. 

Fuck, this was going to end up on TMZ. You groaned at the thought. Terry helped you into your dressing room and then sat you down on the couch. He produced a jacket from somewhere and draped it across your shoulders.

You shook so badly. You were freezing, sore, and achy. You wanted to crawl up like a little baby and never see the light of day again. 

What was the reason? What was the fucking reason? Who the fuck went through the trouble of all of this? What the living fuck? 

All you ever wanted to do was sing and now…you didn’t even have that. The last thing you wanted to do was quit. The very last thing. Singing was your passion, your very being. It was the reason you woke up day in and day out. Because for three hours or so on stage, for hours in the studio, for every interview and fan interaction, you never felt more alive than when you were singing. 

And someone hated you enough to take it away from you. Your mind spun with crazy scenarios. This had to be a deranged fan. This had to be one of those crazy moms who blamed you for corrupting their youth. This had to be someone.  

Someone tangible. This was the work of one person. A smart, deranged person, but just a person. Someone who bled. Someone you managed to fight off. 

Distantly, Terry’s deep timbre barked orders but you weren’t paying attention. You wanted to sleep. 

“Let them through!” Terry’s voice boomed. You jumped from the sudden explosion, before Mirage and Joya squeezed past Terry.

He stood as a stop gap to the onslaught of activity outside the dressing room. No one was getting through him if he had anything to say about it. But then why did he abandon you earlier? 

Mirage and Joya hugged you gently, careful of your injuries. They treated you with kid gloves and that pissed you off more than anything else. You weren’t a fragile flower. You fucking survived. 

Joya cried, swiping at her tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We were told to leave and then we couldn’t find you and then I remembered that I had your phone and we couldn’t even call you–”

You hummed. Even if you made it to your dressing room, there was no phone in here to help you. If Terry hadn’t come when he did, would you be dead right now? 

You hated that you had to rely on others for your safety. You hated that you were a second away from being permanently removed from this earth and it was only by a stroke of dumb luck that the idiot was scared off. 

Joya and Mirage filled you in on their side of things. They were waiting for you to return when one of the guards told everyone to clear out. There was a bomb threat that had been called in and they needed to sweep the building to get everyone out. 

But why didn’t Terry take you with him? 

Your eyes kept glancing over to him as he coordinated with the police and with his team to secure everything back down. His menacing scowl intimidated those around him as he barked orders and commanded everyone. 

Terry glanced at you from time to time. He would give one nod of his head and you returned it. But his whereabouts were more concerning to you. Over the past year, he had been your constant shadow. Nothing fazed him. Nothing tore him up. So where the fuck did he go? 

Terry re-entered the room and stopped short of you. He dropped down into a squat so that he could look you in the eye. “Feel up to talking?” 

You took a deep breath. “Not really. But I know I need to,” you said. The question you most wanted to ask stuck in your throat. You were to afraid of the answer. 

“You don’t have to. We can tell them to meet you somewhere else,” he said. 

You shook your head. “I’m a big girl. I want to get it over with,” you said.

His chin dipped once as his eyes roamed over you. You must look absolutely horrendous. To his credit, he didn’t say anything as he stood and went to the door. He waved to someone and then two men followed behind Terry into your dressing room.

The room grew stuffier, filled with too many bodies. Crowding your space. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands to ground yourself. You were safe. You survived. 

One of the men introduced himself as Henry Bell, a detective with LAPD who was coordinating with the detective in charge of your stalker case. Because you were hopping through multiple cities, it was hard for any one detective to handle it. 

The other man was Patrick Rollins, head of security for the venue. The men asked you to run through what you remembered and what happened. 

You pulled the coat around your shoulders and Mirage and Joya scooted closer to you but you still felt alone. Abandoned. Cold. Like the heat of their bodies couldn’t penetrate the dense fog around you.

You pushed that from your mind as you told them what happened, starting from when you woke up to when Terry found you. You glanced at him as you spoke, wanting to see his reaction yet still afraid of what his excuse was.

He didn’t owe you a damn thing. But you still needed to know why you weren’t important enough to take with. 

They asked more questions, pushed to see if you recognized anything about your attacker. You kept telling them no, getting more agitated the more they asked. How many other ways could you say that you didn’t recognize the loser? 

“Alright, you should have enough,” Terry said. 

“We still have questions–” Rollins started.

“You have enough for now,” Terry reiterated. Rollins sized up Terry but Terry didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He merely kept his open stance and faced the detective and head of security. 

Rollins pushed boyish blond hair out of his face and then nodded. Detective Bill rocked back on his heels and then shoved his notebook into his coat and clicked a pen. “If you think of anything else, let us know, please,” he said. “And I’m sorry this happened to you.” 

You nodded to them and mumbled your thanks. They left with lingering, heated glances with Terry. He saw them out and then he half closed the door. 

“There’s a few things I need to handle and then we can get out of here.” 

You nodded, staring towards your shoes. Everything fucking hurt. You just wanted to turn into a giant baby. But people like you didn’t get to be coddled. You didn’t get to be human. It shattered the illusion and the fantasy.

You picked at the dry blood on your chin. Angie was going to kill you for messing up your face. You sighed and leaned forward.

“Do you have a headache, babe?” Mirage asked. 

You nodded. “I’ll check with a paramedic. They should be here by now.” Mirage stood up and grabbed Joya by the elbow. She protested for half a minute but you didn’t see what Mirage did to make Joya grow quiet. They left the room, leaving you and Terry alone. The last time you had been left alone together didn’t exactly go as planned. 

“Hey,” Terry said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and then reluctantly looked at him. “How are you really doing?” 

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you said. 

He crossed the room and then dropped into a squat. “There’s no reward for being a martyr,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but you smirked, refusing to smile at his words. “Everything hurts. But I’ll be okay,” you said. 

He nodded. You held each other’s gazes for a moment, just taking him in. His eyes scanned over you, jaw flexing. You didn’t know what he saw. Probably a terrified mess.

“I should apologize–” he started.

“Where were–” you said at the same time. 

He shook his head. “The bomb threat smelled like bullshit so I left a guard to watch you while I checked it out. I was locked in a closet and by the time I burst free, everyone was gone. I went looking, but the guard left his post. Fresh out the military, the bomb was triggering,” he said. His jaw flexed after he said that. 

“You couldn’t know it was triggering,” you said. Well, that explained that. You weren’t sure what you were looking for. An undying apology while he was on his knees? For him to acknowledge that he never would’ve left you voluntarily? He didn’t owe you anything. No one did. 

“He left his post. He’s fired,” Terry said with venom behind his words. 

You smiled ruefully. “That’s a bit harsh,” you said.

Terry blinked at you and you decided to drop it. Apparently, it was important to him and you didn’t know enough about the nuances about this stuff to comment. 

“We’re going to find this motherfucker,” Terry promised.

“Thank you. For coming when you did,” you said quietly. 

“I’m not leaving your side again,” he said. 

Your teeth clicked shut, drawing attention to your bruised chin. You didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t supposed to leave your side earlier. But he did. You settled on a nod. 

Terry lifted from his squat and then returned to his duties, ordering people around, coordinating with others. 

Everything else moved along in a blur. First, you were checked out by a paramedic while Terry watched him like a hawk. You were treated for the scrape on your chin and your thigh was merely bruised. No sprains, no injuries. The paramedic called you lucky. Yeah, right. 

Terry managed to escort you to a truck that had been brought round back and off to the hotel room. The city nightlife went on without you. Though you did pass by a restaurant in downtown LA that played your latest song with Lord A.K. That sort of made you smile. 

You didn’t remember much about the ride to your hotel room besides one minute you were at the venue and the next you stood inside your hotel doorway while Terry checked around. 

“We’ll switch hotels tomorrow. For now, you can rest.” 

You nodded and went to your room without a word. Though you did stop just outside your bedroom. 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Yes, princess?” He asked.

You huffed with a smirk and then turned to him. “I want to learn how to defend myself. Will you teach me?” You asked. 

It wasn’t enough to survive anymore. It no longer suited you to just wait around for this lunatic to kill you. Clearly, your security wasn’t up to snuff. Clearly, this person could get to you at any point and at any time. The only person who could save you was you.

“If that’s what you want,” Terry said.

“That’s what I want.” 

Thank you, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2

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[redfoxwritesstuff]

Why Is Misdemeanor Of the Heart's Reader...

White Coded?

Yep, I said it. Come, take a seat and get cozy in the Fox Den while Mamma Kit answers some questions.

CW: Discussions of race and racism in a historical context and me being a wordy ass bitch

I've seen some discourse around Human!Alastor readers and writers and have gotten some of these questions myself over the last few months.

Firstly- I am white. I'm so fucking white that I use SPF 100 sunscreen. I grew up in Alaska. The history I learned growing up wasn't African American history; it was Alaska Native history. I didn’t learn about how we fucked over African American people in America’s early history. Instead, I learned how we fucked over the villages of the land I was raised on.

Why does this matter? The current accepted fanon for Alastor's human life is that he was a Black or mixed-race radio host who died in 1933 and reached his mid to late 30s or 40s. We know he had a successful career and was also a serial killer. He favored jazz, and rye is his drink of choice. He exists somewhere on the ace spectrum.

Time for a little math. Let's go with the middle ground—he was 40 in 1933. That means he would have been born around 1893. Let’s assume his mother was 25 when he was born. She would have been born in 1868. Using the same age for her mother, Alastor's grandmother would have been born in 1843. Remember this—it’ll matter in a minute.

For MisD and all of my human Alastor writing, as well as the works of many other human Alastor writers, we approach Alastor's life through a historical lens. I, like many others, enjoy exploring a time period rich with change—dynamic and vibrant with energy, money, and hope.

What does this mean? This means Alastor would have faced significant amounts of racism. Being Black, mixed-race, or how well he could pass as white would all drastically impact his life. It affected what opportunities he had, the education he received, and how laws were applied to him.

Ready for a history lesson? The Emancipation Proclamation was issued by President Abraham Lincoln on January 1, 1863. It declared all enslaved people in rebellious areas of the United States to be free. Alastor's grandmother—based on the ages we used earlier—would have been a 20-year-old woman at that time.

Alastor would have been raised by a first-generation free woman. He likely wouldn’t have had access to public education, instead being taught in group homeschool-like sessions by those who had learned to read and write.

If he was mixed-race, he would have faced significant discrimination from all of society.

The Civil Rights Movement in the USA didn’t begin until the mid-1950s—a full twenty years after his death.

The reality is that we don’t know a lot about the Black experience during the early to mid-1900s. Much of this history wasn’t recorded by (white) historians. Instead, it was passed down through stories from parents to children, and so on. Only now are we starting to uncover and listen to the histories, stories, and experiences of Black Americans during this time period.

Remember how I mentioned at the start that I’m white as fuck? I don’t have grandparents I can go to and ask about the Black experience when they were children. First—my grandparents are all dead, and second—they were somehow whiter than I am. Their perspective wouldn’t help me because it isn’t my family’s story to tell.

What I can do is look at what we do know, listen to the voices of Black Americans who are finally being allowed to share their stories, and reflect that in my version of human Alastor. I can spend the time to research and learn. For instance, Alastor would have been ahead of his time—the first Black radio host was in 1929, a man named Jack L. Cooper from Chicago. He hosted the first Black-produced weekly variety show and showcased Black entertainers.

I can listen to stories of how mixed-race men were afforded the privilege of their lighter skin as long as they were useful to their white employers, only to be scapegoated the second anything went wrong. I do my best to reflect these stories in Human!Alastor's experiences and behaviors.

Why A White Coded Reader? I cannot even begin to hope to understand the Black American experience as it is now, let alone how it was in 1922, when MisD is set, or in the late 1910s, when my other Human Al fics take place. What I can understand on a deeper level is the white woman's experience, the experience of poverty, the experiences of abused women, and what it’s like to view the Black experience from the outside looking in.

And so that is what I try to highlight with my Human!Alastor fics. Yes, when I’m writing a Human!Alastor fic that deals with racial, class, and social politics as one of the themes to be explored (such as MisD), the reader is coded as white. It is through a white reader that I can have conversations with Alastor about why he feels he has to be perfect, why he straightens his hair, and so on. I cannot do proper justice to these feelings on a deeper level from a Black perspective because I can’t even begin to hope to understand it.

I cannot truly understand what Alastor’s Blackness would mean to him or how he would feel about being mixed. However, I can learn and understand how it impacted his life from the outside looking in. This is what I strive to do—to shed light on what Alastor’s accomplishments would have meant and how much his mistakes would have cost him.

I would love to see more Black writers in the fanfic space, especially within the Human!Alastor space. I would also love to see fewer readers written as blank slates. The Black experience in America and other white-dominated cultures is still not spotlighted often enough, both in present-day and historical settings.

These are stories that need to be told—perspectives that need to be explored, seen, and heard. However, they are not my stories to tell. Personally, until I am far better educated on the matter, I feel it would take away from these stories and be disrespectful to the lives of the very real people who lived them if I were to write from a perspective I cannot hope to understand.

I will continue to strive to write readers as racially neutral as often as the plot allows. However, I also ask that readers respect that, when the plot deals with racial, social, and class divides in a historical setting, if the reader is coming from a place of privilege, their skin tone is often the reason for such privilege.

Of course, I encourage readers to suspend disbelief and insert themselves into the fic regardless of their personal skin tone. I write from a historical setting, but as readers, you can imagine a set of historical laws or circumstances that allow for the same dynamics without requiring a white reader.

Can I do better? Absolutely—we all can. We’re always growing, improving, and learning. I was blessed to be raised in one of the most diverse places in the country (over 45 languages were spoken fluently at my high school). However, since leaving, I’ve struggled with the realities of having that bubble burst—not that Alaska was without racism.

I always welcome respectful discussions about the themes in MisD and all of my fics, as well as the reasons things may be portrayed the way they are. I prefer to write dark content, and with that comes the opportunity to educate and shine a light on topics many people avoid discussing. I simply ask for respect in return for the respect I give.

Much love, Kit

[deprivedreality]

𝗚𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘁, 𝗠𝗿. 𝗗𝘆𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁!

Word Count: idk

Content: fluff. 'She' is kind of controlling, bakugo loves her anyway.

Relationship dynamics of Katsuki Bakugo being the husband to his strict and authoritarian wife who works for the heroes public safety commission.

As students...

Bakugo met her through odd circumstances. She was sent to UA for a year exchange program, being hosted by class 2A, acting as a representative from the Hero Public Safety Commission’s private training school. She was polished, disciplined, and radiated authority that made even Aizawa acknowledge her presence. Bakugo, of course, wasn’t impressed—at first.

Bakugo will never forget their first interaction. She made a point of introducing herself to the class with a sharp, confident tone. When Bakugo muttered under his breath about her “show-off attitude,” she called him out, saying, “Bakugo Katsuki, I expected better from you.” His jaw hit the floor.

Bakugo who couldn't even understand her. She had a weird, quiet fascination with the blond hot head. Something about his raw passion and unrelenting drive intrigued her. She’d casually comment things like, “You’re not bad, Bakugo. I’ll make you my partner for the next drill.” He didn’t realize “partner” meant more than just sparring.

Bakugo knew from that start she wasn't like the others. During training sessions, they were always paired together because she insisted. Their sparring matches were loud, fiery, and drew crowds. Bakugo started seeing her as a real rival, but she kept smirking and saying, “You’re still a little rough around the edges.”

Bakugo didn't even know how to respond to her asking him out. It wasn’t romantic—at all. After a particularly intense training match, she wiped her sweat and said, “You’re worth my time. Let’s go get lunch.” Bakugo, flustered but too proud to refuse, barked, “Fine, but don’t order anything weird!”

Bakugo who eventually admitted that he didn't dislike her. Despite her cold demeanor, she occasionally showed glimpses of warmth—like stitching up his torn training gloves or offering advice after a tough day. Bakugo couldn’t help but admire her determination and started seeing her in a different light.

As They Grew Older....

Bakugo who never expected experiencing LDR. She'd be all the way in America to deepen her studies and he'd be in Japan interning with jeanist. They kept in touch—she insisted on emails. But her emails were formal and to the point, but Bakugo responded with sarcastic but surprisingly detailed replies. Eventually, he convinced her to download a normal texting app. It became a habit for him to rant about his hero work, knowing she’d send back advice and assurance. On lucky days, she'd post him letters with autographs from famous foreign heroes.

Bakugo who had to learn how to balance career and love. When they started dating officially, it was a strange dynamic. She treated their relationship like a “strategic partnership” but always found time to call him after missions. Bakugo pretended to hate her constant questions about his injuries but secretly liked the attention.

Bakugo who would never admit being strangely excited when she sees her in the flesh. He has been so used to seeing her only through video calls that he freezes up when both of them have physical interactions even the slightest. She, however, would kiss him every few hours during their dates. She wouldn't allow kisses longer than a two minutes. She thinks that controlling intimate activities would lessen possibility of pregnancy.

Bakugo who lets her plan out all the dates and scheduled calls and chat times. He admits it's 'weird as fuck' to see that she has a whole calendar dedicated to it, but he follows it anyway. Bakugo knew just how tight her schedule was since she's a rising officer of the Heroes Public Safety Commission and he understands your struggles. At this point, even he's surprised she even continues to date him. (Not like he'll agree to breaking up)

Bakugo when the moment he loses his virginity immediately asks her to buy a house with him. He didn't even hesitate. Bakugo gathers her parents and his parents for dinner to ask for permission before spending all his savings buying a nice house near her workplace.

Bakugo who knew exactly her style. He made sure she had an humongous wardrobe in their shared house. On rare occasions, he would personally pick out blazers, blouses and pencil skirts he think she'd like. He would be very specific in buying shoes too, he knew she preferred stilettos just like how she preferred always having a sleek bun with side bangs. She wasn't just a employee of one of the most important organizations, she was also a fashion icon because of Bakugo.

Bakugo knew that he was favored by the Public Safety Commission. That's probably because his partner is one of the next in line to the commission’s higher positions.

Bakugo who fought with her for the first time. Their first real fight happened when she criticized his recklessness on a high-stakes mission. She'd go as far as leaving her workplace—which she never does—once she gets a call from his sidekick just to visit him in the hospital. Bakugo snapped, “You’re not my damn boss!” to which she coolly replied with crossed arms, “No, but I’m the one who has to report your failures to the Commission.”

Bakugo who proposed impulsively during one of her rare free days. After cooking a messy but heartfelt dinner in their house, he shoved a ring box at her and grumbled, “You’re busy all the damn time, so let’s make this official before you forget about me.” She smiled softly and chuckled, “I was hoping I'd be the one to propose, but you got me first.”

As a Married Couple...

Bakugo was her husband, he knows she’s dedicated to her work. While he grumbles about her long hours, he always leaves meals on the table for her, muttering, “Eat, or I'll never cook for you again.”

Bakugo who's secretly its not really a secret proud of her. Bakugo doesn’t openly say it, but he brags about her to his friends. “Yeah, my wife works for the damn Commission. She’s a fucking big deal, so don’t piss her off.” His chest puffs with pride whenever someone praises her.

Bakugo who yearns for her Attention. On particularly quiet nights, Bakugo finds himself staring at her side of the bed, wishing she’d come home earlier. When she finally arrives, he plays it cool but holds her a little tighter than usual. If she's in the mood, they'll go straight to poundtown.

Bakugo hates arguments about Work-Life balance. Bakugo occasionally snaps when he's frustrated, “You’re always busy! What about us?” Although she wishes she could give him more love, she responds calmly, “What about the people depending on us?” It’s a constant struggle, but they always reconcile because neither wants to give up on the other.

Bakugo who makes sure to make a romantic surprises every now and then. Despite his rough demeanor, Bakugo occasionally shows his soft side by surprising her with things like handwritten notes or flowers. His excuse? “Don’t make it a big deal. I just saw them and thought of you, alright?”

Later in Their Marriage...

Bakugo who saved a family from a disaster and couldn't stop thinking about starting one of his own. So when he had the chance, he casually says, “Y’know… we’d make a kickass kid.” She raises an eyebrow and replies, “Are you suggesting something?” Bakugo fidgets before blurting, “I mean, maybe. I don’t want to be old when they start kicking ass.”

It only took her a moment to think about it, and when she finally agrees, she says, “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. No recklessness, no shortcuts.” Bakugo smirks and says, “What’d you expect? Our kid’s gonna be the best, just like me.” She's pregnant the very next day.

Despite their demanding careers, they’ve found a rhythm. Bakugo handles the home front during her busy days, making sure everything is in order so she can focus on her work. She would take care of the rest when he's out saving the world.

Bakugo and his wife who parents with style. Bakugo is the cool but overprotective dad, while she’s the strict disciplinarian. Their kids would grow up with both fiery determination and a sense of structure, making them a force to be reckoned with.

Bakugo still treats her like the first woman who ever truly challenged him, even years into their marriage. He never lets her forget how much he admires her strength and determination, even if he shows it in his typical Bakugo way: “You’re still the same badass I fell for, and don’t you forget it.”

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2023 | all rights reserved.

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 10k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an —if you're expecting trent from my other works, turn away.

masterlist

trent sat in his living room, staring out the window, his mind still replaying the scene at the café. he had seen his fair share of fiery women, but something about y/n’s reaction had struck him in a way he didn’t expect. the way she stood up, her voice dripping with disdain as she called him "just another guy"—it hit deeper than he wanted to admit. he wasn’t sure who he thought he was when he brushed her off earlier, but she was no pushover. there was a power in her, an undeniable confidence that he wasn’t used to. the women around him usually gave in, smiling or flirting back, charmed by who he was and what came with his name. but y/n? she had no interest in any of that. she didn’t even seem to care that he was trent alexander-arnold.

the memory of her walking out, leaving him sitting there speechless, gnawed at him. maybe it was that she had the guts to talk down to him. maybe it was that she hadn’t flinched when he poked at her about sancho. or maybe it was that, deep down, what she said about him being "just another guy" got under his skin. for the first time in a long time, someone didn’t care about his football career or his fame. to her, he was just another obstacle in her way. it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

he sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch as his older brother, tyler, walked in with his phone in hand. "you ready?" tyler asked, a raised brow signaling that it was time for their meeting at y/n’s record label. 

trent didn’t respond at first, still caught up in his thoughts about her. what exactly had convinced him to say yes to this arrangement after how the café meeting went? maybe it was her fire, or maybe it was because, despite his stubbornness, he realized she wasn’t the type of woman he could push around. whatever it was, he found himself agreeing to it.

“yeah, let’s get this over with,” trent finally muttered, standing up. tyler gave him a knowing look but didn’t say anything. he knew trent well enough to know something was off, but now wasn’t the time to push for answers.

they walked into the label’s sleek, modern office building, and the tension was thick in the air. as soon as they stepped into the room, trent saw y/n. she was already seated at the table, an iced americano in front of her, her expression a mix of boredom and frustration. she didn’t even bother to look up when they entered, her focus entirely on her phone as she absentmindedly stirred her drink. she exuded a kind of power that wasn’t loud, but it demanded attention. it was in her posture, the way she held herself like she didn’t have time for anyone’s nonsense.

trent couldn’t help but admire that about her, even though he’d been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. she wasn’t here to play games, and that was clear from the second they sat down. across from them were their respective lawyers, along with tyler and ayesha, y/n’s manager, who greeted them with a polite, business-like nod.

"shall we get started?" ayesha said, her voice calm but firm. "we’re here to finalize the terms of your arrangement. the contract outlines a public relationship for the next six months, though that timeline is subject to change depending on y/n’s upcoming album cycle."

trent’s gaze flickered to y/n, who hadn’t said a word since they arrived. she was still scrolling on her phone, acting completely indifferent to the entire situation. the tension between them was palpable, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from their earlier encounter or something else entirely. either way, she was clearly pissed about being here.

he leaned back in his chair, watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction as ayesha and tyler discussed the details of their agreement. "when will that be?" trent finally asked, breaking his silence and hoping to get some kind of rise out of her.

y/n’s eyes snapped up from her phone, and for a split second, her fiery gaze locked with his. “when it’s done,” she shot back flatly, before immediately turning her attention back to her phone, completely dismissing him.

trent clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration in check. she really wasn’t going to make this easy, and he could already tell. tyler and ayesha exchanged awkward glances, clearly sensing the tension, and the lawyers shuffled through their papers, ignoring the exchange altogether.

“right,” tyler said, clearing his throat. “so, as outlined, there will be public outings—dinners, events, and a few social media posts to solidify the relationship in the public eye. everything will be staged, nothing too intimate, just enough to get the media talking.”

ayesha nodded in agreement, then turned to y/n, who was still ignoring trent’s presence entirely. “you can continue to see other people, as long as it doesn’t get out. discretion is key here.”

trent's eyes darted back to y/n, watching closely for her reaction. he knew her and sancho were still a thing, whether they admitted it or not. he half-expected her to flinch or at least react, but she didn’t. she remained composed, her expression unreadable, though her fingers gripped her iced americano a bit tighter. 

ayesha let out a small laugh. “and now, officially, you two will be the new power couple. i’m sure the media’s going to eat this up.”

“lucky us,” y/n muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she stood, abruptly signaling that the meeting was over for her. she grabbed her bag and glanced at ayesha. “i’m leaving. call me if anything else needs signing. thank you,” the last sentiment towards the lawyers and teh older alexander-arnold. 

trent opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what, maybe to call her out on her attitude or just to get a final word in—but before he could, she was already out the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and a palpable wave of irritation. 

tyler sighed, shaking his head. "well, that went well."

trent stayed silent, watching the door y/n had just stormed through. something about her made him uneasy, but it wasn’t just anger. it was something else entirely. he wasn’t sure if this arrangement was going to work, but one thing was clear—he was in for a hell of a ride.

y/n lay tangled in the sheets, jadon’s arm draped over her waist as her mind raced. the heat from their earlier encounter lingered, her skin still buzzing from the familiar feel of his lips, his touch. it was a routine, one they’d fallen into easily. whenever the world seemed to press too hard on her—first with trent, then the label's relentless pressure to churn out more love songs—jadon was the one she went to. it didn’t make sense, not when she knew he wasn’t good for her. but something about him had always been hard to resist.

y/n lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around her bare legs. jadon was still beside her, his arm lazily draped across her waist, breathing softly against her neck. it was natural now—this. their routine. they’d done it what felt like a thousand times before. same bed, same space, same empty words exchanged afterward. she wasn’t proud of it, and every time she swore it would be the last, something about him pulled her back.

her mum’s voice echoed in her mind, words of wisdom passed down in her mother tongue, reminding her that no one was perfect. but y/n knew her imperfection had a name—jadon sancho. no matter how much she tried to distance herself, there was something about him that kept her tethered. maybe it was the charm, the way he always knew exactly what to say, or maybe it was the way he’d smile at her like she was the only one in the room. she wasn’t sure anymore.

slipping out of bed, she began to pull on her clothes, moving with the kind of casual ease that came with familiarity. jadon watched her from where he lay, his arm tucked under his head, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at her.

reaching for her clothes, jadon shifted behind her, his voice low and heavy with sleep. “you leaving already?”

y/n didn’t turn around, pulling her sweats up as she spoke. “yeah, i have to go.”

he sat up slightly, watching her with that knowing smirk that always made her weak. “since when do you rush off after?” his gaze was playful, but there was a question underneath. 

normally, she would’ve stayed. they’d order food, maybe watch a movie or talk about nothing for hours. dates, in secret, where they’d avoid the paparazzi and pretend their situation wasn’t what it was—complicated, undefined, and utterly toxic. but this time, something felt different.

“it’s not like that,” she mumbled, slipping her shirt on and finally turning to face him. jadon’s dark eyes were studying her, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension. 

he chuckled softly, but there was a slight edge to it, one she noticed immediately. “not like that? or is it ‘cause of your new ‘boyfriend’?” he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, clearly amused. “you really do have a type, huh?”

y/n froze for a second, the mention of trent hitting a nerve she didn’t expect. “trent isn’t my boyfriend,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing her bag off the floor.

jadon tilted his head, still smirking. “right. just like i’m not your boyfriend either, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat at his words. he wasn’t wrong, and that was part of the problem. the truth was, no matter how many times she told herself she could stop, she always ended up back here—back with him. and despite the casual nature of their relationship, there were feelings they both danced around, never acknowledging, never pushing past the surface.

“you don’t get to ask about trent,” y/n said sharply, more to shut him up than anything else.

“oh, but i do,” jadon shot back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. he crossed the room, his shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders as he moved closer, the playful spark in his eyes now clouded with something else—something heavier. “he and i played together, you know. on the national team. didn’t know you’d end up with another footballer. thought i was your only one.”

y/n rolled her eyes, annoyed at his cockiness. “don’t make this about you.”

“it’s always about me,” he countered, stepping into her space, his voice low as his hand ghosted over her arm. “you’re here, aren’t you?”

she felt a shiver run down her spine, his touch lighting a fire in her that she hated she couldn’t control. “i came here because i needed to clear my head,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “but we’re not anything, jadon. we never were.”

his eyes darkened, the smug grin on his lips faltering for the briefest moment. “right, of course,” he said quietly. “because you’ll keep telling yourself that until you believe it, yeah?”

y/n exhaled sharply, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence still affected her. “you’re impossible.”

“you always say that, but you keep coming back, y/n,” he murmured, his voice softening as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “you don’t think i see it? the way you’re always fighting this. fighting us. i know you feel it too.”

she bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. it was true—there was something between them, something raw and unspoken. but it was also messy, confusing, and more often than not, it hurt.

“i don’t know why i keep coming back,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “but i can’t do it anymore. i have to stop.”

jadon’s jaw clenched, the words hitting him harder than he wanted to show. “and what, you think trent’s gonna be different? you think you won’t be back here again, with me?”

her heart raced, the pull between them stronger than she wanted to admit. “i can’t, jadon. not this time.”

“so that’s it?” he asked, stepping back slightly, his voice quieter now. “you’re really gonna walk away, just like that?”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself before she opened the door. “yeah. i have to.”

“you’ll be back,” he said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice this time.

she hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. “not this time,” she whispered, and with that, she walked out, leaving him standing there, his expression unreadable.

as she left his apartment, the reality of her words sank in. she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but what she did know was that things couldn’t stay the same. and as much as she hated to admit it, trent had already complicated things in ways she hadn’t expected.

y/n sped down the road, her fingers gripping the steering wheel as her mind replayed the same tired loop of thoughts. she had never been good at keeping her emotions in check—every feeling she had, whether frustration, joy, or heartbreak, found its way into the songs she wrote. the singing came later, a natural extension of the emotions she couldn’t keep inside. despite the confident persona she carried now, y/n had always been shy, even timid as a child. she still remembered being in the choir at her all-girls school, hiding in the back until her teacher forced her to take a solo. if it hadn’t been for that push, she would’ve never discovered the voice that would eventually take her all over the world. 

but now, that voice only seemed to echo with the messy frustrations of her life, and one name lingered in every song—jadon. 

her latest album was a catalog of every high and low she’d been through with him, even if she’d never admit it out loud. the media had no clue, of course, but jadon? he knew. it was all in the lyrics—the tragedy of their situationship strung together verse by verse. they were raw, exposing parts of herself she was still too prideful to confess directly. the way he always knew she’d come back, the way he got under her skin… it was all there, hidden in plain sight.

she groaned, slamming the car door as she parked outside zaia’s house. she couldn’t keep doing this. couldn’t keep falling into the same pattern. the moment she stepped into her best friend's cozy, suburban home, the warmth and stability hit her hard. everything about zaia’s life was so… put together. the complete opposite of the chaotic mess y/n had going on. while zaia was happily engaged to her childhood sweetheart, planning a wedding and living in domestic bliss, y/n was the media’s favorite "mess," the girl who couldn’t seem to keep a man, at least according to every tabloid headline.

she stormed inside without knocking, not bothering with pleasantries. "where’s the wine?" y/n called out, tossing her bag onto the couch before collapsing into it, her face buried in the cushions.

zaia appeared from the kitchen, a bemused look on her face as she poured a glass of wine and handed it over. "bad day, huh?"

"bad week," y/n grumbled, sitting up to take the glass. "i swear, if one more thing goes wrong, i’m going to lose it."

zaia raised an eyebrow, settling into the armchair across from her. "let me guess—jadon?"

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. she never had to with zaia. "he just… he makes me so mad. and i don’t know why i keep going back. it’s like he knows exactly how to push my buttons, and i fall for it every time."

zaia sighed, leaning forward slightly. "you’re too prideful, y/n. you know you’re in too deep with him, but instead of cutting him off, you write songs about him. we both know ‘girls need love’ was about him.”

y/n scoffed, though she knew zaia was right. "i write about what i feel. it’s not always about him."

"you’ve gotta leave him alone, y/n," zaia sighed, shaking her head. "he's a dead end, and your songs say it all. i mean, come on, you basically spilled everything in ‘playing games.’ you wrote ‘you say you want me, but you act like you don’t’—who else could that be about?"

y/n groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "that could be about anyone."

"oh, please." zaia rolled her eyes. "and then there’s ‘girls need love.’.’ if that’s not about jadon stringing you along, then i don’t know what is. you’ve practically handed him a whole mixtape of your mess together."

"it’s not that deep," y/n muttered, though she knew zaia had a point. the songs weren’t just vague reflections of her life—they were practically confessions. every line felt like a piece of the complicated puzzle that was her and jadon. 

"girl, it is that deep," zaia shot back. "you’ve got a whole album about this man, and he’s still playing the same games. you need to cut him off."

y/n slumped further into the couch, the truth of zaia’s words sinking in more than she wanted to admit. "it’s not that simple. you don’t get it."

"i do get it. you’re addicted to him. it’s like you love the chaos," zaia said, her voice soft but firm. "but it’s not healthy. you’re wasting your time, your energy, on someone who’s never going to change."

y/n stared down at her wine glass, swirling the dark liquid inside. zaia was right. she always was. but something in her—whether it was pride or stubbornness or something else entirely—kept pulling her back to jadon, even when she knew it was a losing game. "he’s not that bad," she muttered, more to herself than to zaia.

zaia scoffed. "he’s worse, y/n. every time you get close to something good, he reels you back in just to keep you from moving on."

y/n bit her lip, the frustration bubbling inside her again. she hated that zaia could see her so clearly, even when she tried to hide behind the excuses. "it’s just… i don’t know. i don’t know why i can’t stop."

"because you don’t want to," zaia said plainly. "but you need to."

silence hung in the air for a moment before zaia, ever the pragmatic one, switched topics. "so, what’s the deal with trent?"

y/n groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "don’t even get me started on him. i hate him."

"you sure about that?" zaia teased, raising an eyebrow.

"yes," y/n shot back. "he’s arrogant and—ugh. just no. the whole thing with him is a disaster waiting to happen."

zaia leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "maybe he’s exactly what you need. a distraction. someone to finally get your mind off jadon."

y/n narrowed her eyes. "a distraction? you think this PR relationship is going to help me forget sancho?"

"why not? he’s easy on the eyes, you know, and he’s not jadon. that’s already a win."

"it’s not that simple, zai. we signed contracts, there are rules… and i don’t need another distraction. i need to focus on my music, not some fake relationship."

zaia gave her a pointed look. "maybe you need a break from the music. all it’s been doing lately is giving you more reasons to run back to jadon. maybe trent’s exactly what you need to finally cut the cord."

y/n stared at her friend, unsure of how to respond. she didn’t want to admit it, but maybe zaia had a point. maybe pretending to be with trent, even if it was just for the cameras, was the clean break she needed.

later that week, trent found himself pacing around his living room, phone in hand. it had been days since the meeting at the label, and he hadn't heard a word from y/n. it wasn’t like he expected her to reach out—she’d made it pretty clear how much she didn’t want anything to do with him. but the silence, the radio silence, was starting to get under his skin. she was being petty, and for some reason, that irritated him even more.

he glanced down at the number he'd gotten from ayesha, sighing. "guess i'm the one who has to be the adult here," he muttered, dialing the number.

the phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a soft, unfamiliar voice finally answered.

"hello?" y/n’s voice came through, cautious and unsure, as if she didn’t know who it was.

trent smirked to himself. of course, she didn’t save my number.

"y/n. it’s trent."

there was a brief pause on the other end. he could almost imagine her blinking in surprise, her posture stiffening at the unexpected call.

"trent," she repeated slowly, as if testing the name on her tongue. "how did you get my number?"

"ayesha," he said simply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "i figured we needed to talk, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me since last week."

"i haven’t been avoiding you." her tone was sharp, defensive. "i’ve just been... busy."

trent rolled his eyes. "right. well, we can’t exactly keep this up. we need to figure this out sooner rather than later."

"figure what out?" her voice was laced with irritation, like she didn’t even want to entertain the conversation.

"the arrangement. the contract," trent said, trying to keep his voice steady, though her attitude was starting to get under his skin again. "we have to be on the same page if this is gonna work."

there was another pause, and he could hear her exhale on the other end. "fine. when and where?"

he raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of heart. "you’re agreeing to meet?"

"didn’t you just say we need to?" she shot back, sounding exasperated. "let’s just get it over with. when?"

"tonight. my place," he said quickly, not giving her a chance to back out. "i’ll text you the address."

there was a brief hesitation before she agreed. "fine. i’ll be there."

trent hung up, a sense of relief washing over him—but also a lingering annoyance. this wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she was willing to meet. 

now all he had to do was figure out how to navigate whatever was about to come next. because if their phone call was anything to go by, this arrangement was already off to a rocky start.

trent tossed his phone onto the counter, the clatter echoing through the quiet room. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up on him. it was just business, just a deal they were both locked into for the next six months. but something about the way y/n had been so indifferent, so cold on the phone, kept replaying in his mind.

he leaned back against the counter, staring out the window. his thoughts drifted, uninvited, to jadon sancho. were they still seeing each other? were they still tangled up in whatever mess they had going on? the idea of y/n being laid up with jadon, while pretending to be in a relationship with him, didn’t sit right. it wasn't just about the contract or the public image—it was something else, something more personal. 

he hated the thought of her, in the middle of the night, pressed against jadon’s chest, laughing at something stupid he said. he knew sancho; they’d been teammates. he’d seen the way women flocked to him, the easy smile, the charm he laid on so thick. but y/n —she was something else. she wasn’t just another girl. he’d seen the way she carried herself, the way she didn’t let people, especially men, walk all over her. that fiery tongue, the way she wasn’t impressed by who he was. it had struck a nerve, one that was still stinging.

what did she even see in sancho?

trent couldn't help but scoff at the thought. he’s your type, sancho would joke—like types meant anything when you were faking love for the cameras. but still, the idea of her being involved with him while they carried on this charade made trent’s stomach twist. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. no, it was just the optics of it, the idea that they couldn’t have their cover blown because y/n couldn't stay away from someone else.

trent crossed his arms, his irritation simmering as he recalled those nights at the club. he could still picture it: jadon, with that arrogant grin plastered on his face, always clinging to y/n like she was the only thing that mattered in the crowded room. it grated on trent's nerves to see how sancho paraded around her, as if he had it all figured out, as if she was just another trophy to display. 

but the truth was, it was clear to anyone who bothered to look closely: y/n had the upper hand. 

she played her cards with effortless grace, keeping sancho in the palm of her delicate hand. there was a fire in her eyes, a spark that made her untouchable, and yet, there she was, tangled up in a relationship that was anything but simple. while sancho flexed his charm and dominance, y/n stood confidently, unbothered, perfectly aware of the control she wielded. 

trent hated that he was even thinking about this. it was just another reason to keep his distance, to remind himself that they were supposed to be faking it, not getting caught up in whatever drama her past with jadon might bring. but the more he replayed those moments in his mind, the more he questioned whether she had really moved on from sancho or if she was just playing a deeper game, one that trent didn’t fully understand. 

did she only agree to use him to get back at jadon?

he couldn't help but wonder how she would fit into this new chapter of his life, this ridiculous arrangement they were about to start. 

he pushed himself off the counter, trying to shake the thoughts away. he needed to focus on the contract, the arrangement, and how to make it work. but no matter how hard he tried, the idea of y/n and jadon—together, intimately—kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

what kind of game was she playing?

trent couldn’t deny the tension building within him as he stood outside y/n’s condo, waiting for her to join him for the charity event. this was their second public outing together, another step in their carefully curated façade. the night was supposed to be simple: smiles for the cameras, casual conversation with his teammates, and just enough chemistry to keep the tabloids buzzing.

but nothing about y/n was simple, and he felt the weight of that as he stared at her building, checking his phone for the fifth time.

when the door finally opened, he looked up, and his breath hitched in his throat. y/n stood framed by the soft glow of her entryway, draped in a black gown that demanded attention. the corset top sculpted her figure flawlessly, emphasizing her curves and leaving just enough to the imagination. a black fur coat hung over her shoulders, but it couldn’t mask how stunning she looked.

“you��re staring,” she teased as she approached, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

trent blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a word. “just… making sure you’re ready,” he muttered, clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“oh, i’m ready,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk as she brushed past him toward his car.

in the confines of the car, the tension was palpable. the scent of her perfume filled the space, soft yet intoxicating, and every shift of her body drew his attention. the slit in her gown revealed a flash of her leg when she crossed them, and trent gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“you alright there?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah. fine,” he replied curtly, focusing on the road.

when they arrived at the venue, the coat check left him momentarily speechless. as y/n slipped off her coat, her gown came into full view, shimmering under the light and accentuating every inch of her. the neckline dipped just enough to make his throat dry, and the fitted corset made her look like a vision of elegance and allure combined.

he didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened as he noticed the appreciative glances she was drawing from others in the room.

“you good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed her coat to the attendant.

“fine,” he said, his tone clipped.

but he wasn’t fine. not when he spent the first hour of the event watching as his teammates approached her, drawn in by her charm. he had deliberately kept his distance, convinced that avoiding her was the best way to keep his own emotions in check. but when he saw ryan gravenberch leaning a little too close as she laughed at something he said, trent felt his patience snap.

as he approached them, he caught the tail end of their conversation. y/n was smiling, her posture relaxed, and ryan looked equally at ease.

“everything okay here?” trent asked, his voice deceptively casual as he joined them.

y/n glanced at him, her smile fading slightly as she registered his tone. “yeah, everything’s fine. ryan was just telling me about—”

“i bet he was,” trent interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at his teammate. “you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you, ryan?”

ryan frowned, straightening up. “uh, yeah. i do.”

“right,” trent said, his gaze shifting to y/n. “you’ve got a type, don’t you? footballers.”

y/n’s smile faltered, the slight stiffening of her shoulders the only indication she’d heard him. but trent could tell. he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she blinked rapidly as if trying to push it away.

“excuse me,” she said suddenly, standing up and walking away from the table, her posture rigid as she stormed off toward the coat check.

trent cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. they’d been getting along—she’d even seemed to be enjoying herself—and he’d ruined it. again.

he rushed after her, weaving through the crowd until he finally caught up to her at the coat check. “y/n, wait,” he called, reaching for her arm, but she pulled away, her expression icy.

“don’t,” she snapped, turning to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “if you’re just going to play into their hand and paint me out to be some sort of slut, we might as well rip up that contract right now.”

trent blinked, taken aback by her words. “that’s not what i—”

“no, trent, don’t even try,” she interrupted, her voice shaking slightly. “you don’t get to slut shame me. you don’t get to make comments like that just because i’ve been involved with someone you know.”

“you really think that little of me, don’t you? that i’d flirt with someone who has a girlfriend? that i’d stoop that low?” she said, her voice trembling slightly with restrained fury.

“i didn’t say—”

“you didn’t have to,” she cut him off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you just implied it. because that’s what you think of me, isn’t it? just some girl who’s here for a good time, here to play the part you need me to play.”

trent opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t done.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “and you clearly don’t care to. all you see is what you want to see, and that’s on you, not me.”

she turned on her heel, heading for the coat check, but he followed her, grabbing her arm gently.

“y/n, wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

“don’t,” she snapped, pulling her arm free. “if you’re just going to insult me and humiliate me in front of your teammates, don’t bother pretending to care now.”

“that’s not what I meant—”

“then what did you mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell sounded like you were slut-shaming me for talking to someone who was just being nice. god, even jadon—”

her voice broke off, and she shook her head, blinking back tears.

“what?” trent asked, his own frustration bubbling up. “even jadon what?”

“even jadon never made me feel this small,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “and that’s saying something.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him standing there, speechless, as she grabbed her coat and walked away.

-

the next day, guilt clung to trent like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. he was at training, but his head wasn’t in it. every missed pass, every half-hearted sprint, earned him sidelong glances from his teammates and sharp words from his coach. but nothing could pull him out of the haze he was in, the words y/n had thrown at him replaying in his mind like a broken record.

"even jadon never made me feel this small.”

he swallowed hard, his throat dry as the memory resurfaced again. the crack in her voice, the way she blinked back tears she refused to shed in front of him. the way she’d walked out, her coat clutched tightly around her like armor, leaving him standing there, too stunned to follow.

trent scrubbed a hand over his face, dragging himself back to the present as the whistle blew to end the session. he barely registered the chatter around him as he trudged off the pitch, his phone burning a hole in his pocket. he'd already called her twice this morning, only for it to go straight to voicemail. no response to his texts either.

she was airing him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

meanwhile, y/n was at a café with zai, trying to push the events of the night before out of her mind. the warm, buzzing atmosphere should’ve been enough to distract her, but her thoughts kept drifting back to trent, to his sharp words and the guilt that had flashed in his eyes when she’d finally snapped.

“you’re quiet,” zai noted, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “and don’t tell me it’s nothing. i know that look.”

y/n sighed, stirring her tea absently. “it’s just... men.”

zai raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “is this about trent? or jadon?”

the mention of his name made her flinch, and she hated how easily it still got under her skin. “it’s not about jadon,” she said, a little too quickly. “but it doesn’t matter. it’s just... the same story, different guy. i don’t know why i’m surprised anymore.”

zai frowned, concern flickering across her face. “what happened?”

y/n hesitated, debating whether she even wanted to get into it. but the weight on her chest was too much to carry alone. “he accused me of flirting with someone. like, out of nowhere. and when i tried to explain, he doubled down. it was like...” her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. “it was like i was back there again, with jadon, having to defend myself for existing. except this time, it’s not even real. it’s fake, and it still hurts.”

zai reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you don’t have to put up with this. fake or not.”

“i know,” she whispered, but even as she said it, her resolve wavered.

because the truth was, she did have to put up with it. the contract was clear, and the charity event was coming up fast. she had to face him again by the end of the week, had to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine for the cameras.

but in the quiet corners of her mind, the cracks were already forming. she thought about all the times she’d been here before, swallowing her pride, her hurt, just to keep the peace. with jadon, with other men before him, and now with trent.

it was always the same pattern. they’d charm her at first, make her believe she was special, different. and then, slowly, the cracks would show. the accusations, the jealousy, the little digs at her character that piled up until she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

trent’s words from the night before rang in her ears again, sharp and cutting. she’d thought, maybe naively, that because this was fake, it wouldn’t hurt. that she could separate herself from it. but now, she wasn’t so sure.

“i’ll get through it,” she said finally, forcing a smile for zai’s sake. “it’s just one night. i’ve handled worse.”

but even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a lie. because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that this was just another performance, the truth was far messier.

she didn’t want to admit how deeply his words had cut, how much they reminded her of jadon and the way he used to chip away at her confidence until there was nothing left.

but at least with trent, it wasn’t real.

that thought was supposed to bring her comfort, but instead, it left a hollow ache in her chest. because if even something fake could hurt this much, what did that say about her?

that night, trent sat on the edge of his bed that night, phone in hand, staring at her contact. he’d tried calling her again after training, but still nothing. the silence was deafening, and he hated it. hated knowing he’d hurt her, hated the thought of her comparing him to jadon and coming up short.

he typed out another message, his thumb hovering over the send button.

"y/n, i’m sorry."

it wasn’t enough, he knew that. but he didn’t know what else to say. didn’t know how to fix the mess he’d made.

he hit send anyway, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. the apology sat there, unread, like a weight in the pit of his stomach.

the soft glow of string lights hanging over the patio of the upscale restaurant did little to mask the tension simmering between y/n and trent. their first public outing as a "couple" was supposed to be for show, a chance to create a picture-perfect moment for the cameras. but the peaceful evening was long gone, replaced by an undercurrent of bickering that neither of them could quite rein in.

trent sat across from her, arms crossed, clearly irritated as he watched y/n type away on her phone, her attention fully absorbed by whatever message she was sending. he knew exactly who it was. sancho. the very mention of his name was enough to ignite a spark of frustration in trent, and the fact that she was texting him right in front of him? it was pushing him to his limit.

“really?” trent muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “you’re gonna sit there texting him all night?”

y/n didn’t even bother looking up, her thumb casually swiping across the screen as she typed. “jealous already? we’ve only been ‘dating’ for what—an hour?” she shot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at her lips, knowing she was getting under his skin.

trent’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward slightly. “it’s not jealousy. it’s just pathetic that you’re still hung up on a guy who clearly doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s eyebrows shot up, finally looking up from her phone to meet his gaze. “oh, so you’re keeping tabs on me now? since when do you care who i talk to?”

“i don’t,” he shot back, his voice sharper than he intended. “but if we’re supposed to be playing this fake relationship game, maybe you should stop texting the guy who’s making a fool out of you.”

y/n let out a low, amused laugh, clearly unfazed by his comment. “oh, please. jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. you wouldn’t get it.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah? and what’s that supposed to mean? you think he’s treating you right just because he sends a few sweet texts?”

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “he knows how to keep things interesting. maybe that’s something you could learn from him.”

trent’s eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “yeah, well, from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re the one doing all the chasing. does he even text you back as fast as you’re glued to your phone?”

y/n narrowed her eyes at him, her playful smirk slipping as his words hit a little too close to home. “funny. but you don’t know shit about what’s going on between me and jadon.”

“i know enough,” trent shot back, his voice low and laced with irritation. “i know he’s got you running in circles, thinking you’ve got him where you want him when really, he’s just stringing you along.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with defiance as she leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she closed the distance between them. “you think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. i have him wrapped around my finger, not the other way around.”

trent leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut. “is that what you really think? because from where i’m sitting, you look like you’re trying way too hard to convince yourself of that.”

y/n didn’t flinch, her smirk returning as she dropped her voice to a teasing whisper. “why? you jealous, trent? does it bother you that i can have him, and you’re just playing pretend?”

before trent could respond, y/n leaned forward even further, deliberately letting the neckline of her top dip just enough to catch his attention. trent’s gaze flickered down for the briefest second—a moment so quick he hoped she wouldn’t notice. but she did. and y/n, ever the opportunist, wasn’t about to let it slide.

“oh?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “you can’t even look me in the eye now, can you? maybe you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

trent’s face tightened, his expression darkening as he forced himself to meet her gaze again, refusing to let her win. “you really think everyone wants you, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly enjoying the game she was playing. “not everyone,” she said with a smirk, her eyes dancing with mischief. “but you do.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile never faltering. “unbelievable or right?”

trent exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his cool. “this is exactly what i mean. you’re so caught up in the attention, in thinking everyone’s after you, that you can’t see how messy this is.”

“messy?” y/n echoed, feigning innocence. “i don’t think it’s messy at all. i think you’re the one who’s flustered. i mean, it’s cute—your little attempt at being unaffected—but i know when a guy wants me.”

trent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he glared at her. “you think i’m flustered? please. you’re just pissed because i’m not falling for your bullshit like sancho does.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “nah, you’re pissed because deep down, you’re just as interested as he is. you’re just better at hiding it.”

trent’s eyes flashed with irritation. “if you think i’m interested, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“oh, i know you,” she shot back, her tone teasing but with a sharper edge now. “i know that little glance wasn’t just out of curiosity. you can act all high and mighty, but i can see right through you, trent.”

trent clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he forced himself to stay calm. “you’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

“maybe,” she shrugged, her smirk only growing wider. “but you’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

trent let out a frustrated breath, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“oh, is that what you’re doing?” y/n teased, her voice light and mocking. “keeping me in check? because it seems like you’re the one who can’t handle the heat.”

trent’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “you can play your games with sancho all you want, but don’t drag me into it.”

y/n’s smile widened as she leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “who says i’m playing games? maybe i just like getting under your skin.”

trent’s gaze flickered to hers, his frustration clear in his expression. “trust me, you’re not getting under my skin. i just think it’s sad you’re still hung up on a guy who doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s smirk faltered for a split second before she recovered, her tone sharp as she responded. “and i think it’s sad you’re unbothered when you clearly are.”

trent stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static in the air. they were supposed to be putting on a show, a fake relationship for the cameras, but the lines between reality and pretense were starting to blur. and as much as he hated to admit it, y/n was getting to him.

but he wasn’t about to let her know that. not yet, anyway.

they left the café with tension so thick it was suffocating, y/n’s heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she trailed slightly behind trent. he strode ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, barely sparing her a glance. the entire date had been a disaster—if you could even call it a date. trent hadn’t looked at her, let alone spoken to her, during the meal. he barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes fixed anywhere but on her.

y/n bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface. she was tired of his dismissive attitude. “you know, for someone who’s supposed to be my date,” she called out, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “you’re really bad at it.”

trent didn’t slow down. his long strides made her struggle to keep up, but he didn’t care. “i’m not here to hold your hand,” he said flatly, still refusing to turn around.

y/n quickened her pace, falling into step beside him. “clearly. you’re more interested in ignoring me than pretending this is a real date.”

his jaw tightened, but his expression remained cold. “maybe i just don’t feel like playing into your games.”

“games?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “what games, trent? this whole fake-dating thing was your idea, remember?”

he finally stopped walking, turning to face her with an irritated glare. “yeah, fake,” he muttered, his voice sharp. “but you’re treating it like it’s just another excuse to text him.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what are you even talking about?”

trent’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “you’ve been glued to your phone all night. let me guess—sancho?”

her stomach twisted at the mention of jadon. “oh my god, you’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “i wasn’t texting him.”

“sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “because it’s not obvious or anything. you’re always distracted, smiling at his messages. it’s pathetic.”

her chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, her voice rising. “and even if i was texting him, it’s none of your business.”

trent’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, his tone low but biting. “it is my business. we’re supposed to be selling this ‘happy couple’ act, but you can’t even pretend to be here with me.”

she took a step back, her frustration boiling over. “you ignored me the entire night, trent! you barely even looked at me, and now you’re trying to make me the problem?”

he scoffed, his voice cold. “why bother looking at someone who’s clearly not interested in being here?”

“are you serious right now?” y/n’s voice cracked, the weight of his accusations suffocating her. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“don’t i?” he shot back. “every time we’re together, it’s like you’re somewhere else. you’re not here, y/n. you’re always thinking about someone else.”

her throat tightened as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. she refused to let them fall. “you’re wrong,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “this isn’t about jadon. it’s about you.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his confusion momentarily breaking through his anger. “me?”

“yes, you,” she said, her voice steadier now. “you’re so focused on who you think i’m texting, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. you’ve been cold and distant all night, and i’m the one who’s pathetic?”

his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. for the first time, he looked at her—really looked at her—and the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i want to leave,” y/n said finally, her voice firm. she turned away before he could say anything else, her heels clicking briskly as she walked away.

“y/n—” he started, his voice softer now, but she didn’t stop.

“don’t, trent,” she said, her voice breaking. “i’m done for tonight.”

he stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. but his pride kept him silent, rooted in place as she walked out of sight.

the second date was arranged like the first—some picturesque café on a quiet street, perfect for photographs and social media buzz. but this time, y/n wasn’t going to be the one trying. she was done with his cold shoulder, his sharp words, and the way he acted like her presence was some sort of inconvenience. if trent wanted to treat this arrangement like a game, then fine. she’d play it better.

she arrived on time, wearing a sleek black midi dress and a pair of delicate heels that gave her an air of effortless elegance. she hadn’t bothered to look for him when she walked up to the café. instead, she let the hostess guide her to their reserved table on the patio. trent was already seated, casually scrolling through his phone, his jawline sharp as ever, and a faint furrow in his brow.

"y/n," he greeted, glancing up briefly before looking back down at his screen.

she didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a polite smile as she pulled out her chair and sat down. the silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, but she kept her composure, smoothing her dress over her knees and ignoring the way his gaze flickered toward her once, twice.

he cleared his throat, finally slipping his phone into his pocket. “you’re quiet today,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

she picked up the menu, her eyes scanning the items as if she hadn’t heard him.

trent’s brows knit together. “everything alright?”

still, she said nothing, her attention fixed on the menu. she wasn’t being overtly rude, but her indifference was deliberate, precise.

“y/n,” he said again, more firmly this time. “i asked you a question.”

her lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to show, but she kept her expression neutral. finally, she lowered the menu, setting it down carefully on the table. she met his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again, pretending to admire the flowers in the centerpiece.

trent let out a frustrated exhale, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “are you seriously not going to talk to me?”

she tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the flowers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. her silence was driving him mad, and she knew it.

“alright,” he said, his tone sharp with irritation. “what’s this about? the other night?”

she finally looked at him then, her expression blank, save for the faintest arch of her brow. his frustration deepened, the tension in his shoulders more visible now.

“look,” he started, running a hand through his curls, “if you’re mad about what i said, i—”

her phone buzzed on the table, and without a word, she picked it up, unlocking it with a casual swipe and scrolling through her notifications.

trent’s jaw clenched. “are you serious?”

she ignored him, tapping out a quick reply to a text before setting her phone back down. she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and gave him a look that said are you done?

trent leaned closer, his voice low and biting. “you’re acting like a child.”

that earned him a reaction—her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. “oh, now you care about how i’m acting?” she said sweetly, her voice light but cutting. “interesting.”

he blinked, caught off guard by her sudden words. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” she said with a shrug, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “just an observation.”

he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. “so this is payback, huh? silent treatment? acting like i’m not here?”

her smile widened, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached for her water glass, taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.

“y/n,” he said, his voice firm now, “stop playing around.”

“why?” she asked, setting the glass down and leaning forward slightly. “don’t like it when someone treats you the way you treat them?”

trent’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. she had him cornered, and they both knew it.

“you’ve been impossible,” he said finally, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “i’m trying here, alright?”

her brow shot up. “trying? really? because ignoring me, snapping at me, and barely looking at me the other night didn’t exactly scream effort.”

his jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face for just a moment. “i was—” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “i wasn’t in the best mood.”

“clearly,” she said dryly, leaning back in her chair. “but you still managed to make it my problem.”

“i didn’t mean to,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “look, i know i’ve been... difficult. but this whole thing—” he gestured between them—“it’s not exactly easy, alright? pretending like this is real when it’s not.”

“not easy for you?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “you think it’s a walk in the park for me? dealing with your attitude, your assumptions, your—” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “forget it.”

“no, go on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “say it.”

she met his gaze, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your ego,” she said bluntly. “you act like you’re the only one who has to deal with the pressure, like this whole thing revolves around you.”

his brows furrowed, her words clearly hitting a nerve. “that’s not what i think.”

“isn’t it?” she challenged. “because that’s exactly how it feels.”

trent sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. for a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just nodded. “maybe you’re right.”

her eyes widened slightly, surprised by his admission. “what?”

“you’re right,” he repeated, his voice more measured now. “i’ve been... selfish about this. i didn’t think about how it’s been for you.”

she studied him, trying to gauge whether he was being sincere. “and?”

“what do you want from me, y/n?” he asked, his voice sharp but tinged with desperation.

she stopped, too, slowly turning back to face him. for a moment, she just stood there, her phone in her hand, her expression unreadable. then, with deliberate slowness, she set her phone down on the small café table beside her and leaned back against the chair with her arms crossed.

that look.

it wasn’t just her posture, though that alone was commanding—poised and unapologetically confident. it was the way her light brown, bone-straight locks framed her face like a halo, each strand catching the golden light of the setting sun. her dark, glossy lips curved slightly, like she was on the verge of laughing at him. but it was her eyes that made his breath hitch, piercing and unyielding, filled with a quiet power that made him feel like she could see every corner of his soul.

trent felt pinned under her gaze, completely enthralled. for a moment, he forgot to breathe. in his mind, she was a force he could never hope to control, and for the first time in forever, he realized he didn’t want to.

“i want an apology,” she said finally, her voice calm but firm, as though the entire world bent to her will.

he didn’t even hesitate. “i’m sorry,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

her brows lifted in amusement, and a surprised laugh slipped past her lips, soft and melodic. “wow,” she said, leaning forward slightly, a teasing glint in her eye. “that was... fast.”

“because i mean it,” he said, his voice steady now, though his heart raced. “you were right, y/n. about all of it. i’ve been selfish and short with you when you didn’t deserve it. this whole thing’s been frustrating, but that’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you.”

her lips parted slightly in surprise, and he noticed how her expression softened, just a fraction. “go on,” she said, though her teasing tone couldn’t quite hide the genuine curiosity beneath it.

trent took a step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as if grounding himself. “i’ve been taking my frustration out on you because it’s easier than admitting this arrangement has gotten to me. but you don’t deserve that. if anything, you deserve better than... whatever this is.”

for a moment, she didn’t respond, just studied him with that same piercing gaze. then, slowly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned back, her expression unreadable.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you another chance,” she said, though her tone was lighter now, teasing.

“i’ll take it,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “and i’ll do better. i promise.”

she tilted her head, a flicker of something warmer passing over her face. “you’re serious, huh?”

“dead serious,” he said without missing a beat. “whatever it takes to fix this.”

she gave him a long look before finally nodding, a smile playing on her lips. “alright then,” she said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “you can start by buying me a coffee.”

trent chuckled, his frustration melting into something softer, something lighter. “deal.”

“you’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered, when he returned with her coffee a small smile tugging at her lips.

trent let out a low laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension. “that’s all i’ve got going for me, huh?”

“pretty much,” she teased, her tone lighter now. “but don’t push it. i’m still mad.”

he smirked, leaning back in his chair. “noted.”

it wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was enough for now. as they sat there, the silence between them was no longer cold or uncomfortable—it was something softer, a tentative truce.

as they walked back toward the café’s entrance, side by side, he noticed the way she didn’t pull away when his shoulder brushed hers. it wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was a start. and for the first time, trent felt like they might actually figure this thing out together.

© PDRIESTA 2024

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 | OS

karasu tabito x fem reader ; words: 1.9k (1939)

coming from this event, fifth day, 22/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: the pact had been clear from the beginning: only needy kisses when the situation called for it, but no relationships. everything had been going smoothly up until that point, but the main problem was that now you were falling for your enemy's best friend. does tabito not want relationships because he doesn't want to set up seriously or just because he's afraid of ruining everything by being mediocre?

Even though you are literally in each other's arms, you feel Karasu light years away from you. The grip he had on your hips a few seconds ago has suddenly diminished, remaining sloppily leaning but not holding them. It took just a few words to destroy the perfect harmony that has existed between you since this strange situation began, and you don't know whether to regret having said them or to still be as convinced as you were until recently. You just know that, now, Karasu is not the same one who was kissing you until a moment ago, with the same usual sweetness

"We should stop. I'm starting to develop feelings for you and I don't want to suffer through something like this"

Words spoken in one breath, but which contained everything, or more, that you felt for the boy who until today has always been your kisser. You said that you started, and not that for months now you have thought only and exclusively of him, that you dream of being able to have a relationship with him, that you would simply like to stop being an ordinary girl and become his girlfriend. But what you dreamed of didn't fit your plan, the one that until now had given you the chance to be so close to him. The plan was simple: just kisses, maybe sooner or later a sexual relationship if you both agreed, but never and ever a relationship

Yet, it seemed so easy to fall in love with him. Karasu is polite, he knows how to joke without being offensive, he has a hobby that he is committed to and has many friends who love him, and he also knows how to treat women. It was impossible for you to understand how a boy like that is best friends with Otoya Eita, the same boy who broke your heart after a relationship that lasted no more than two weeks. You could easily say that the hatred you felt for the ninja turned into love when it came to Tabito.

It all started with this pretext: help me make Otoya regret leaving me, make him understand that I am the best girl he could spend his life with. Betting on his best friend had been a risky choice, but Karasu had accepted. And so, in front of the white and green haired boy, the kisses between you and Karasu had begun their battle against him, who frankly had never paid much attention to you two, only surprised to see Karasu with someone after long time since last time

Almost everyone, even his friends, thought you were a couple. But you both said no, you were just young and a relationship would only hinder the beautiful bond you had. Yet, your goal of making Otoya jealous had turned into nothing in less than a few weeks, while you began to reflect that Karasu was actually a good guy. That, besides the kisses, he also treated you well, and he didn't have the same behavior with girls as he had with you

And so, for a year now, you had begun to think that you loved him seriously, that kisses were not enough for you. It had taken you a year to say the words you had just said to him, and yet you had already regretted it. His face conveyed an all too obvious surprise, untypical for someone like him

"I know you don't want a relationship, so let's end this. It was fun"

You knew he didn't want a relationship, he had made it clear from the start. You had talked about it other times, and his words were always the same. They hurt you, but they were reality

"I don't want a relationship, it would hinder me and my future career as a striker. Professional players never have a steady relationship until they reach an important goal, and I will do the same. After I win, I will look for someone to spend the rest of my life with. But it's not that time yet"

Your heart hurt, your body, everything. It hurt to think that from now on, you would do without him, without his lips on yours and without the good feeling that always existed in your stomach when you knew he was looking at you. You were letting go of something you loved so much, but you knew that by doing so, maybe you would save yourself more future pain

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's all over, I don't want anymore"

You didn't know why he didn't want a relationship, or rather, the explanation he had given you so long ago didn't seem entirely right. Karasu, in your eyes, seemed like someone who needed love so much, who even sought it, but why did he reject it if he had plenty of it, of yours, under his hands?

There was something that told you that he was rejecting love because of a more personal fear, because of something that you had always had before your eyes but had never understood. Something that, you thought, made him very insecure. But what was this insecurity of his if he was so perfect? What he was hiding from you?

Slowly, you pulled away from his grip, which no longer held you to him. Your lowered gaze helped you not to look him in the eyes, because seeing even a shred of sadness would have destroyed you. It was the best choice, but why did it hurt?

"You can't be serious, everything is going great"

"It's precisely because everything is going well that I want to stop. Karasu, I think I seriously love you, kisses are no longer enough for me. But at the same time, I know you don't want a relationship, and I don't want to force you to have one with me. If everything continues to go so well in my mind we will be like boyfriend and girlfriend, while you will continue to think of us as just two friends. And I will suffer from this, because I know myself"

You had to be harsh with your words, even if you didn't really want to be, and especially not with him, who hadn't actually done anything to you. But if you weren't, it would have been even worse

He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship

But really, why?

"You can't just go away and break everything. Don't you think about me?"

Karasu has never been someone who blames things, he has always admitted that he hates those who do it, because he thinks they are mediocre, and he hates mediocre people

"Yes, and it's better for both"

"You don't know what's fucking best for me..."

"Instead, yes. Think of it as if our relationship was a test for what you will have with your future girlfriend"

"I don't even want to think about anyone else other than you"

Karasu wasn't the type to say things like that, especially things that sounded like a declaration of love, and hell, it seemed like one to you. Why did he just say those words if he always reminded you that he doesn't want to think about anything but his career? Is there seriously something he's hiding from you that goes beyond the simple justification he's always given you?

"If you don't think I know what's best for you, tell me. What's best for you, Tabito?"

Maybe you had crossed the line, just maybe

"The best thing for me is to believe that I am enough for you, but I can't be if I am so disgustingly mediocre. Giving you something mediocre, being yours, is something that bothers me, because I never want to see you with something or someone who is not on your level. The thought of you walking away suffocates me, but I know that sooner or later you would realize how much I am not enough. I don't want you Y/n, even if I really do, because you don't deserve shit. Why did you fall in love with someone like me instead, so mediocre?"

So there was actually something in Karasu's thoughts, something that you actually didn't even remotely expect: how could he, so perfect in your eyes, consider himself mediocre?. The excuse of his career was therefore evidently just a bullshit to hide this more intimate side of his, who had fought so hard to hide it from your eyes, who instead saw it with an inhuman perfection

"Mediocre things don't work, they don't make things enjoyable. Settling is not love, and putting yourself in a situation like that would destroy me. I would ruin everything sooner or later, trust me"

You wanted to shut him up, you seriously wanted to. Hearing him talk so badly about himself hurt your heart, since you didn't even remotely have these thoughts about him. Never ever, in your thoughts, had you imagined him ruining everything, he who in situations always tried to resolve in the best possible way. Maybe he wasn't aware of how great it was, how 'mediocre' was the last word in the world to describe it. Maybe he was genuinely insecure about something that didn't actually exist, but was just in his head for some unknown reason

"If you consider me enough for everything, how do you explain the thing that I fell in love with you, that instead you consider yourself mediocre? Don't you think that I fell in love because you are so perfect in my eyes that I don't understand your doubts? Karasu, you have no idea how much you are not even remotely wrong, you are anything but wrong. Falling in love with someone so perfect, who knows how to love but is afraid, is I think one of the most intelligent things I have ever done, and you know that I have done a lot of stupid things in life. But I want to make you aware of how much you are enough, much more than enough. For me you know how to love, you want someone who loves you, but you are afraid. I want to take away this fear from you"

Silently, you had unmasked the mask that Karasu Tabito had so glued to his face: under that self-confident, sometimes even selfish face, there was a boy who was extremely insecure about himself, who was just waiting for someone who could love him without fear of his insecurities. You had destabilized him with your words, you could see it from the way he was slowly destroying himself. Your words were true, and you hoped that by destroying himself he would understand that you meant them

"Suppose I accept your love. Suddenly I do something, I ruin everything"

"I'll try to love you again until everything works perfectly. And in the meantime you learn where you went wrong and you don't do it again, because I know you can do it. To err is human"

You wanted to love him, you wanted him to love himself. And if trying again with him every time meant making him realize that he wasn't as shit as he said he was, you would try again and again

Mediocre was his fear, not he. A human mediocrity, because in reality everyone has fears of this kind; you had some too

"Let yourself be loved, Karasu. Let your dream come true, because I never want to see you sad about something like that"

"If I make a mistake, will you try again? Shall we try again?"

"Until my last breath"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[bullet-prooflove]

Heya! May I request "Running on two or three hours of sleep" for Jamie Dutton?

(My Yellowstone blog is "Stupidyellowstoneshitposts, by the way. Just so you can see I'm active😝)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kcloveswrestling @dakotapaigelove @noxytopy @chaostwinsofdestruction

Companion piece to:

Break Free - Jamie decides it's time to break free from Yellowstone.

Colorado - Jamie takes off to Colorado for a break after John's betrayal.

Enough - Jamie questions his self worth.

Jamie’s already on his third cup of coffee by the time you awaken. He hears your light footsteps padding across the hardwood floor and looks up to see you standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, the blanket from the bed draped over your shoulders to ward off the chill in the Colardo air.

“How bad is it?” You ask gesturing at the phone clasped between his hands.

He swallows hard as he sets the device down at the breakfast island, pushing it away from him with his fingertips. It’s been a week since he’s looked at his phone, he’d locked it away in the glove compartment of your car when the two of you first took off to Colardo and hadn’t retrieved it until the early hours of this morning because he couldn’t sleep. The two of you are returning to Montana today and he’d wanted to see what he was coming back to.

“Over 100 missed calls, a dozen voice mails and some texts.” He tells you as he rubs his palm across his chin in agitation. There’s dark stubble starting to blossom across his jaw, something you’ve never seen before because he’s always been forced to play the role of the clean cut lawyer. It’s a sign that he’s changing, that he’s starting to work things out for himself.

“Have you been through them?” You ask him as you take up residence on the stool alongside him, shifting the blanket so it covers your bare legs. You’re wearing one of his shirts and a pair of blank panties, both of which aren’t conducive to the cool mountain air. Jamie gets up and moves to the thermostat, altering the temperature before he answers your question.

“I started to but…” He trails off, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

But it’s overwhelming, you know. Jamie’s departure from Bozemen had thrown a spanner in the works for a lot of people and their clambering for his attention, trying to draw him back, trying to manipulate him. Your man, he’s in a very vulnerable position right now, his life is in flux, his identity shaken, he’s trying to find his own way in the world, the one that allows him to live his own life, one not in the service of others.

“Let me help.” You say picking up the phone and scrolling through it. It’s a jumble of notifications. You decide to dismiss the calls and delete the voicemails as they’re all reactionary and Jamie doesn’t need his father growling in his ear about his disappointed he is.

You work through the texts as Jamie starts to heap teaspoons of coffee into the French press, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“Bullshit, bullshit, Beth, bullshit, bullshit. A nice one from Kayce, we’ll save for later.” You murmur as you get rid of the blatant disregard for Jamie and focus on the more important ones.

You set the phone back down on the worktop, your mission completed as Jamie returns to you, a freshly brewed mug of coffee in his hand. You take him from it gratefully, rising it to your lips to take a sip as he sits down alongside you.

“Thank you for all of this.” He says softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “For seeing I needed to get out of town and take a breath and for dealing with that.” He indicates to the phone.

He looks down at his hands, his thumb chasing over the brown leather strap of the watch you got him for his birthday.

“I’ve never been with someone who could see the real me, who understands me the way that you do.”

The women before you, they never wanted him, not really. They wanted the prestige of his political career, the hope of his inheritance. He has none of that now and still you’re here, taking care of him, protecting him.

“Jamie.” You say tenderly, capturing his hand in yours, fingers entwining. “That’s what you do when you love somebody, you try to help them when their struggling, you support them because they’re your person and you want them to be happy.”

Jamie tips his head up to meet your eyes. They’ve always been such a vivid shade of blue. Sometimes they’re as tempestuous as the ocean, others as calm as a clear sky on a sunny day. Right now they’re ambient, collected and resolved.

“I don’t know what the future looks like Dani.” Jamie tells you as he raises your hand to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the knuckles. “But whatever it is, I’m glad you’re here, that it’s something we can move forward with together.” 

Love Jamie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nightmare-of-homophobes]

You Know You're My Favourite - Avis Amberg X gp!reader

Words: 5,4k (more or less).

Summary: Avis searches for her favourite girl after a fight.

Warnings: porn without plot; NSFW; sub!Avis, Dom!reader; oral (both receiving); penetration (Avis receiving); swearing; use of titles; weird/unconventional power play; light praise kink; breeding kink; mommy kink; rough sex; flirts a lot with BDSM; tits play; implied previous conversations of boundaries; implied internal homophobia; implied unilateral love.

Tag list (those who commented or reblogged on the tag post): @alittlewitchyone @emilynissangtr @greek-freak101 @live-laugh-love-lupone @multixfan @thoroughly--confused @likealayka @thegoddamnfeels @kenzie-floops @amethyst-bitch @acciosoftbroom @missquints @mrsines

Special thanks to the lovely @live-laugh-love-lupone who kindly beta read this for me <3

English isn't my native language, so bare me! I didn't watch more than three episodes of Hollywood and hadn't written gp for a while, so I'm sorry if Avis is too out of character and if the sex is awkward 🥲. This story is based on an ask I received some time ago (I hope this finds you, anon!). I wanted to try something different by mixing the request - sub!Avis - with what I took from the character and from the fanfics I’ve read about her - the power play and titles.

Hope you enjoy it! Xoxo!

(Also, I wrote a good part of this while listening to “Red Wine Supernova” and “Good Luck, Babe!”, kind of mixing the songs to set the vibes to the characters.)

***

It was late and your shift was almost ending. It had been a boring day with no clients for you so you got pretty occupied with pumping gas and cleaning cars all afternoon. 

You were just about to go to the bathroom to change yourself out of your uniform when you heard a car approaching. You got irritated by that, but that slipped off your mind as soon as you recognized the car.

Putting on your best smile, you approached it.

– What a lovely surprise… – you said leaning into the window to look at the ginger woman. You didn't miss how she seemed distressed. – How can I help you, Mrs. Amberg?

– You're taking me to Dreamland.. – she demanded, her tone letting you know she wasn't in the mood for your playfulness.

You nodded quietly.

– I just need to let Ernie know you're taking me out. – you said and went back into the gas stations to do it, returning as quick as you could and entering the car.

She drove off the station in silence, the only sounds between you being the roar of the motor and the background sounds that driving through Hollywood involved. You could practically feel the tension irradiating from her body, so you put a hand on her thigh, slowly drawing patterns close to her knee - not wanting to drive her attention to you at all, but to calm her down a little. It seemed to work since she relaxed a bit.

– Tough day, mama? – you dared to break the silence.

– I don't want to talk about it. – she said, leaving no room for other attempts. 

– What do you want to talk about, then? 

She sighed loudly and you felt bad for pushing her, but she answered anyway:

– What about your career? Have you got any offers lately?

You hummed in confirmation. For some reason, Avis always liked to learn about her lovers and she loved to discover how you wanted to be a professional photographer. You deep down wished she would, one day, pose to you.

– Yeah, I'm covering an event this weekend. – you told her excitedly.

– That's great, what is it? – you told her the name of the event, but it wasn't one from her social circle so she didn't know it. – … But I know you'll do amazing, baby, you always do.

She met your eyes for the first time in the night, a small proud smile on her lips. That made your chest warm. It was good to know you had someone to make proud.

– You're just saying it because you know I'm a sucker for being told I'm doing a good job. – you accused her, earning a chuckle from her.

– You caught me. 

You fell into a very much lighter silence as she drove into the night. You weren't recognising the route she was taking, so you imagined it was somewhere she hadn't taken you yet. When she parked in front of an expensive looking hotel, you were sure you hadn't been there before. Not that she didn't take you to fine places, she did, but that was… Too much, in your opinion.

The parking valets opened the doors of the car for you both and you jumped out of it, feeling a little bit conscious of your clothes. Maybe you should've made Avis wait for you to change it when you were still in the gas station but now it was too late to regret.

Letting the ginger woman lead the way inside the hotel and into an elevator, you were able to relax again when the doors closed and you started to go up to your floor. But your relaxed state didn’t last too long since Avis was needier that night.

Being pressed against one of the walls of the elevator, your lips crashed against her red painted ones, her mouth as demanding as she always liked to portray herself. The kiss was messy and harsh, mirroring Avis mood and making you know exactly how she needed to be treated that night.

Holding onto her waist, you pulled her body flushed against yours, your tongue darting out to try its way into her mouth. As soon as she let it slip past her lips, you started to slowly dismantle her demanding attitude. Avis usually liked to have control over everything happening in her encounters, needing to guide what and how things would go. She tried to do it with you in your first encounters, but she was quick to discover that when it came to you, you simply wouldn't bend over anyone’s power without fighting for it - and that she honestly enjoyed having someone to tell her what to do sometimes.

You could still taste the wine on her tongue, which was another clear sign that something distressful happened and she really needed you to make her forget whatever it was that upset her. You could already piece together what probably happened: one more fight with the powerful Mr. Amberg. You didn't even know the man or had a hint of how he looked, but you despised him the same way. How could a man be married to a woman like Avis and not try to satisfy her?

The elevator’s door rang while opening and you quickly disentangled ourselves. She laughed at you.

– It's fine, doll. I made sure to rent a room on a floor that was empty. – she said, already leaving the elevator.

You laughed at yourself and followed her down the corridor. Your eyes didn't resist falling to her ass, admiring how rounded it was as you watched how her hips swayed as she walked. You couldn't wait to put your hands on it.

As she unlocked the door and pulled you inside the room, you met her halfway, crashing your lips together again as you closed the door with your foot before slamming her against it.

– Hmm, did you miss me that much? – she asked, putting her arms around your neck.

You hid your face on her neck, kissing and sucking it softly.

– No… I'm actually had been very busy fucking some pussies around. – you teased her, knowing how she could get jealous when at your work.

It worked because you heard how she grumply groaned and turned her face to the other side when you tried to kiss her on the cheek.

– Oh, mama, you let me get into your head so easily. – you poked her side. – You know you're my favourite client.

Though you meant those words, they left you with a bitter taste on the tongue. You had a strict rule of trying to not get attached to your regular clients, but sometimes you would get yourself wondering how it would be to be something else than just a prostitute to Avis. Something more.

But of course you would never speak those desires out loud. No. She was married and you were both women. And, in the end, she only saw you as a passing fun. Someone she could get distracted with when her true life got tough.

– You're distracted today… – she called your attention, making you snap out of your thoughts. She frowned. – What's in your head?

You let a peck on her lips, diverting her attention.

– Nothing at all. – you brushed off the topic. Letting your hands fall to her butt, you gave it a playful squeeze. – Now… What about going to prepare yourself for me? – you asked against her lips before leaning to her ear again. – I'm so hungry, mama…

You heard how her breath hitched and felt how her hands buried themselves into your hair. Leaning back to look at her, you saw how her eyes had darkened. You always loved to watch her eyes. Especially when she was under you trying so hard to keep them open while cumming around your cock.

Leaving your embrace, Avis went to the double doors in one of the walls of the living room (that you only noticed once she approached because you were too busy paying attention to her before), opened it and disappeared inside of it. The bed was probably inside those doors. You heard another one being opened before the shower was turned on.

She always liked to dress up on encounters like that, but she liked to be extra clean and use her fanciest gowns and lingerie for you. She was sold for compliments and you suspected that was a thing for her.

Trying to busy yourself, you poured down two drinks, swallowing yours in one go.

You hadn't to wait too long before you heard heels clicking on the floor and arms flew around you to embrace your body tightly.

– Do you want a drink? – you asked softly, enjoying how she cupped your breasts and kissed the back of your neck.

– Right now I just want to drink whatever comes out of you. – she answered, sending shivers down your spine.

– I can arrange that. – turning on her arms, you started to undo your belt, feeling how she was getting impatient. 

Drinking the shot of whiskey you had poured for her, you swallowed a little before bringing your lips closer to hers. She quickly accepted it, opening her mouth so you could spill the drink into it. Of course that wasn't what she meant, but she wouldn't deny you.

Kissing down her cheek and her jaw, you buried your face back on her neck, your hands found the knot of her robe to untie it. She was smelling so good you wanted to wrap yourself around her and never leave.

– I like this colour on you… – you muttered against her skin, hearing her whimper softly. – But unfortunately I need this off.

Letting it slide off her shoulders, it was your turn to lose your breath.

– Did you like it, baby? – she asked with a sultry smile and tone, faking innocence. She knew you liked it. Actually, she could feel just how much you liked it.

There, standing confidently in front of you, she was wearing a red corset that hugged her curves perfectly, but that wasn’t all. Your eyes ranked up her legs, admiring the black long socks attached to something underneath the corset - probably a, also black, garter belt. Finally, your eyes met what you considered to be the cherry on top: lace black panties that left so little for your imagination.

You ran your fingers over the details of the corset, your mind already picturing how it would be to take it out of her later. The rest would stay in place, it wouldn’t bother you.

– I loved it. – you said, playing with her garters. – And because of it I’ll let you pick what we’re doing first. What do you want baby to do? – you asked, pulling her hips closer so one of your knees was placed between her legs.

Under your intent gaze, Avis squirmed. She enjoyed your attention so much. Starting to undo the buttons of your white shirt, she asked:

– You mentioned being hungry, right? 

You laughed and helped her to get yourself undressed. Once you got rid of your shirt, tie and shorts, your hands returned to her hips, starting to push her in the direction of the couch, you made her sit down. She made mention of untying the garters but you pulled her hands off it harshly.

– None of it, I didn't ask you to take it off. – you reprimanded her while kneeling on the floor.

– I don't need your permission… – she said under her breath and lifted her hips towards you.

One of your eyebrows shot up as you looked at her. So she was naughty tonight? How bad.

– Are you looking to be punished, mama? – you asked severely. – You know how long I can keep you on edge.

She seemed to fight her pride and own words before looking away and muttering:

– I'm sorry.

– That's better. – you tapped the side of her thigh, satisfied. – Now where were we…

You spread her legs, starting to kiss the insides of her legs and massaging her feet while doing it. She loved receiving a good massage. 

– Yes… – she sighed, opening her legs even more, if it was possible.

Her skin was smelling so sweet and her socks brushing against your bare skin were so soft that you were feeling yourself getting hard faster than usual. Avis would certainly drive you mad anyday.

– Baby, please… – she whined, her hips bucking in the air, asking to be touched. – Please, Mama's so hot…

Complying with her requests, you brought your lips higher, your fingers cleverly finding her panties and pushing them to the side. You licked from her entrance to her clit, feeling how she clenched and how the foot you were still holding curled into your hand.

Bringing your hands to her hips, you pulled her further to the edge of the couch, placing her legs over your shoulders.

– Look at this, mama.  – you breathed against her core, letting soft kisses all over her mound and playfully sucking at her bundle of nerves, feeling her squirm and moan shakily. – Your pink hole is so wet for me already, I bet I could slip inside right now without any trouble… – you fully slid your index finger into her fluffy folds as if to prove your point to her. – See?

– God… – she groaned and you could feel how her hands were clutching at the couch on your sides. She could feel your finger searching for her weak spot, scratching her walls sweetly in its path.

You were steadily letting kitten licks on her clit, your finger caressing her point over and over again, reducing her to a pathetic moaning mess. When you started to suck her, her hands flew to your head, holding you impossibly closer.

– Fuck! Yes! – she rolled her hips against your mouth, starting to ride your face in chase of her orgasm.

You let her do it while adding another finger inside her, scissoring and opening her so you could replace it with your tongue later. 

– Hmm… Mama, you’re taking me so well. – you complimented her, your voice sending vibrations against her clit, making her grind harder against you. 

Her moans were louder with each thrust of your fingers, every rub of her clit against your tongue making her legs twitch and her hole clench around your fingers. You knew she was so close and you were loving it. Satisfied with the stretching, you finally slipped your tongue inside her, tasting her flavor straight from the source. 

Her grip on your hair tightened, her thighs creating a fluffy - and strong - cage as they closed around your head. A loud, obscene moan left her lips, her whole body losing control as she reached her orgasm.

– Ah, baby! Fuck! Fuck! – she cried out.

Her walls were tightening so hard around your tongue it was practically expelling you from inside her and you couldn’t help but whimper at that. Staying still, you let her use your mouth to ride her orgasm.

You caressed her thighs all the while, soothing her and waiting for her to calm down. It didn’t take her long before you could finally free yourself from her legs, resting your head on her thigh as you had done before. You looked up at her with what you knew were your loving eyes.

– Everything alright, mama? – you asked as she panted, her chest rising and falling heavily. 

All you received from her was a soft groan, her eyes shut tightly. Getting up from the floor, you sat on her lap, drawing her attention back to you. 

– I’m fine. – she said dreamingly, opening her eyes to meet yours. 

– That’s good… – you said and leaned to kiss her.

She welcomed your mouth with her tongue, more than willing to taste herself on yours, moaning at it.

– Can you taste how sweet you are, mama? – you mumbled against her lips, making sure to press your tongue down at hers, wanting her to commit her own taste to her memory.

The kiss was heated and messy and you didn’t even notice when you started to roll your hips on hers, brushing your covered erection against her corset, missing the feeling of her chubby belly. You liked the corset, it was pretty, but you liked even more to have her breasts and tummy on display.

– Stand up, let me take this thing from you. – you panted against her lips, getting off her lap to sit beside her.

She did it and you pulled her down on your lap, moaning at the feeling of her ass hugging your dick perfectly. She rubbed her ass over you playfully, earning a quick slap on her right buttcheek, which made her quiet down.

Starting to open her corset, you took the opportunity to also undo her complex updo. She usually didn’t let you do it, since it took time to put her hair back in place, but you didn’t think she was planning going anywhere or returning home that night. As you finished with the corset and brushed her hair with your fingers, admiring its redness, you made no effort to resist reaching around her body and taking her big boobies into your hands, loving their weight and softness. The sigh she let out told you how relieved she was to get rid of the corset.

– Feeling better, Mama? – you asked while playing with her breasts, squeezing them and rubbing her nipples to get them hard.

She only hummed in answer, her ass not staying still on your lap, teasing you as much as you were teasing her. You kissed your way to the back of her neck, biting down hard on the skin there, making her squirm and whimper above you, her hands reaching up to hold yours in place. You pinched her nipples and flicked it on your fingers, making her breath get elaborated again.

– Baby, please! – she finally gave up, understanding you wouldn’t take any action if she didn’t beg. – Please, I need you… – she tried to push one of your hands down to her pussy but you prevented her from doing so. – Please, I need you inside me so fucking bad!

Reaching to her neck instead of between her legs, you held it and squeezed it weakly, pulling her towards you until her head was on your shoulder.

– You know what to do if you need my cock that much. – you said against her ear, enjoying how her desperate eyes found yours. Such beautiful eyes.

You smirk down at her and bite her ear softly.

Sliding down from your lap, she got on her knees before you, her hands fumbling with your tight underwear while letting mouth-opened kisses on your erection through the cloth. She looked so sexy doing that.

– Aren’t you forgetting anything, mama? – you asked and she looked up at you confused. You gestured for her to keep eye contact and she nodded.

Letting her take control of that small moment, you leaned back on the couch helping her to take off your underwear by raising your hips. She bit her lips at the sight of your cock on display.

– See how excited I get everytime you come to see me, mama? – you asked, running a finger on her lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth, watching how she accepted it, sucking it into her mouth.

Bringing her closer by her chin, you let her replace your fingers with your cock, sighing heavily at the velvety and warm sensation of her mouth around you.

– That's it, mama… – you hold her head, not leading her, just letting it rest there. – Take it all inside.

She obeyed, bit by bit taking all your length into her mouth, not having any trouble. The idea of her being so used to doing that kind of turned you on. Between the two of you, you might have been the prostitute, but she was definitely the slut.

You moaned as she bobbed her head up and down a few times before returning to your head, sliding her tongue against your slit.

– Fuck, mama... – you bite your lower lip, your free hand going to your tits to play with them. – You know exactly what to do to make me lose control.

You groaned when she sucked the head, her cheeks hollowing as she did and her eyes searching your reactions through heavy lids and battling of lashes. That woman would certainly kill you one day.

Letting her work her magic on your cock, you took that moment to just enjoy the pleasure she was giving you, focusing on your sensations as soft groans and moans kept falling from your lips, your chest heavy and heart racing as you watched how she switched between sucking your cock and teasing the slit at the tip or sucking your balls while jerking you, all the while never breaking eye contact.

– You're doing so fucking good… – you panted as your release started building, your dick throbbing into her mouth. You almost came when, in one go, she put all your length deep inside her mouth, the tip reaching the back of her throat. – Fuck!

You held her head in place, closing your eyes at the intensity of the wave of pleasure that teased you, unaware of how she also closed her eyes, moaning around you and sending another wave through you. She always found it so hot when you were rough with her and she could feel her arousal sliding down her thighs, her pussy aching to be filled again as she made her best to not gag around you. You released your grip on her.

– Keep going, I'm so close. – you gasped.

With that, she doubled her efforts, your hips bucking to meet her meet her mouth halfway, your cock brushing the back of her throat at every damn thrust. A strain of swears were falling from your lips and, when you finally couldn't help it anymore, your hand hooked into her hair and you harshly set the rhythm you wanted, making her choke sometimes while supporting herself on your thighs, trying to relax her jaw the most as she let you fuck her mouth. She knew her throat would be on fire the next day but she didn't care. She would never stop you from doing what you wanted to her. 

She was exactly where she wanted, receiving exactly what she needed.

With a final rough thrust up, you held her still, cock buried impossibly deep inside her as she fought the urge to push you off her so she could breathe. When she couldn't take it anymore, she patted your thighs and you let her go while growling through your orgasm, your seed spilling from her throat to her face since she couldn't hold your dick down her throat for so long. 

Both of you were breathing heavily for totally different reasons.

– Sorry. – you apologized as soon as you got enough air to do it.

Her head was resting on your hip, her hair in all directions. Her face was flushed and painted with your cum while her lips were swollen and her cheeks had stains of tears. She was a fucking mess.

– It's okay, doll… – she muttered raspy, her chest rising and falling in quick puffs as she still was trying to calm herself down. – You know I like it.

Gentler than you were before, you ran your hand through her hair, putting it a bit back in place, not because you were finished with her, but because you wanted to bring her some tenderness after such roughness. You waited until she was ready to keep going.

Watching her standing up, you stood too, catching her lips into your in a soft, caring kiss.

– You know we can stop at any moment, right? – you reminded her in a whisper.

– I want to continue. – she reassured you. You nodded.

Taking her by the hand, you led her to those double doors, entering it to find your way to the bed. It was very large and fit the luxury of the place.

– Get on the bed. I'm gonna get another drink. – you said while caressing her back.

As she moved to do so, you returned to the other room, pouring you a drink while you still felt cloudy from your previous orgasm. Something strong like whisky would definitely help, you thought to yourself. Yet, it wasn't the whisky at all that snapped you from your current state of mind, but the vision of your tie lying in a corner of the room. An idea popping into your head.

Drinking the liquid in one go, you walked over and picked up the tie, returning to Avis immediately.

You weren't waiting to find her on her fours on the bed, waiting for you with her ass high in the air and face buried in the sheets. All the while she was touching herself, two fingers deep inside her drenched pussy.

That pissed you off.

– I didn't say you could touch yourself! – you exclaimed as you reached over and pulled her fingers out of her harshly. –You’re really looking for that punishment, lady!

You turned her over so you could pin her down, you face hovering over hers as you angrily asked:

–Now choose… – you lifted the tie. – Hands or eyes?

She didn't miss a beat before answering:

– Eyes. – she could bear not being able to see, but being restrained was a torture for her.

You grimaced at her answer, an unsatisfied expression on your face. 

– You don't deserve it. – you said. – Mama has been acting very bad.

You flipped her over again, using your weight to hold her still as she fought you and your decision to tie her hands instead. As you finished, you leaned and growled on her ear: 

– You will learn how to please your baby!

Getting off her, you helped her to return to her previous position: ass on the air and face buried in the sheets. Aligning your dick with her entrance, you entered at once, knowing that she was more than prepared after so much teasing. She moaned unashamed at that, ass moving to meet your hips halfway.

– Yesss… – the word lingered on her tongue, turning into a hissing as you slapped her ass once more.

Settling a steady rhythm of thrusts, you watched, hypnotized, how her pussy took your cock so well, as it was designed especially for you. A soft and warm place for your dick to rest and empty itself.

Oh, that was another great idea. You would adore to cum inside Avis again and again until she was filled and carrying your seed deep inside her.

Keeping to fuck her in that slow and steady rhythm, you knew exactly what you were doing to her: making her lose her mind again. It wouldn't take long until she was pathetically begging again, her brain melting from having what she wanted from the start but it not being enough to satisfy her.

And you were right, it didn't take long.

Once she realised you had no intention in changing your pace, she cried out muffled:

– Baby, please… – she tried to fuck herself against you, but reaceived another harsh slap. – Mama is so sorry, please… She won't do that again… Please, please, please… Mama will do anything baby wants her to do, promise… – her whimpers keep going, but you already have heard the words you wanted to hear so you leaned into her again, one hand getting tangled in her hair again.

– Anything, mama? – you asked and, to provoke her, you gave a particularly rough thrust. Just the way she liked.

– Yes! Fuck, yes, please… – she cried.

Your free hand winding its way through her body until it finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, enjoying how she gasped and moaned even louder.

– Do you know what I would love, mama? – you kept whispering against her ear. – To have you carrying my babies… – a soft “yes” came as an answer and you closed your eyes. – Wouldn't it be lovely, mama? Me buried deep inside you? Feeling you so good? Spilling all my seed so mama could take it in her perfect body for me? It would make me so happy, mama… 

Hearing her confirm every question you made her was an otherworldly experience, but the words that set you wild were those who came from her lips in sequence of that:

– Please, love, give me your babies… I'll carry your babies, please…

Pushing her face against the mattress harder and holding onto her tied hands, you started slamming into her, the sounds of your skins meeting each other extremely obscene. You were panting and whimpering, lost in Avis body as you finally gave her what she was so pleased to beg for, her moans fully turning into screams of pleasure now, her hands twitching and trying desperately to free themselves from the tie while her toes curled and she bit the sheets to muffle her sounds.

Every thrust of yours sent her higher on her from the force you were using to fuck her, almost as if trying to forge your bodies together, so it was a good thing you were keeping a good hold on her, otherwise her head would be banging against the headboard.

When she started clenching painfully around your cock, you knew she was close to her orgasm. You were too. Flipping your positions, you laid on bed and pulled her above you, untying her hands so she could support herself to ride you. 

– Yes! Yes! Gimme your babies, yes! – she kept exclaiming as she bounced hard up and down the entirety of your length, seeming to want as bad as you to bury your cock deep inside her. – Fuck, yes, mama feels so good! Mama is gonna cum!

You helped her to bounce, supporting her hips and meeting them with yours halfway as well, wanting to make her cum again. 

Sitting down on the bed, you held her hips down, burying yourself inside her while helping her to grind on you, one of your hands searching for her clit to send her over the edge. You were feeling goosebumps all over your body and it was becoming harder to fight your orgasm.

– Cum for me, mama, please. – you asked and, lowering your head to her chest, you caught one of her lips into your feverish mouth, sucking it hungrily.

That was enough and, with her orgasm finally washing over her, she stopped her movements, her entire body tensing up.  Being squeezed like that, you didn't even try to resist your own orgasm, spilling yourself inside her body as a guttural moan escaped from the back of your throat.

Both of you stayed still, practically breathing each other's air as you panted with your foreheads pressed together. For a long moment, none of you dared to move, both sensible to touch and still feeling the aftershocks of your blissful orgasms. Finally, you turned her again on the bed and slipped out of her, both of you moaning from the loss of the sensation.

You watched how your seed spilled out of her mistreated hole once you were out. You weren't preoccupied with coming inside her. She was past her fertile age and you were infertile, so there was no risk at all.

Laying beside her, you welcomed her into your arms.

– Feeling better? – asked softly, running your fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head, your eyes were feeling so heavy.

– Much better. – she said and yawned.

– Go to sleep. – you told her, knowing that all would end very soon.

Soon she would have to return to her husband and you to your clients. Soon she would pretend that all those nights with you were nothing more than usual fun, even though both of you know she had stopped seeking other prostitutes after finding you. Stopped seeking men.

And you, well, soon you would have to pretend that you didn't let her affect you. That you didn't let yourself hope that, one day, she would need more than just sex. And, certainly, that you didn't caught yourself thinking of her when fucking others or wishing she would accept what the nature of your encounters were saying about her.

– Good night, doll. – she said sleepily.

– Good night, Avis. – you answered, kissing her head once again.

You knew she would have already left you when you woke up the next morning.

.

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Comments are very appreciated because I'm a sucker for validation!

[greattigerssimp]

Christmas headcannons for the Punch Out!! Wii boxers!! 🥊🎄✨️

(cover by me :p)

They're all having a christmas party/sleepover together, there's a big Christmas tree in the gym, and their doing Secret Santa :3

Glass Joe 🇫🇷 🥐

- Made most of the food for the Xmas party. He baked bundt cakes, sugar cookies, peppermint brittle, buche de noel, and little gingerbread men he decorated to look like the boxers. Bro literally baked his German bf into a cookie because he misses him-

- The ref gifted ugly Christmas sweaters to all the boxers. Joe got an oversized blue and white jack frost themed one. He actually loved it and is keeping it

- Got berated by Aran throwing snowballs at him on his way to the party

- Overly invested in Kaiser retelling Christmas stories

- Over drank hot chocolate and passed out around 10pm. Later woke up under the tree, wrapped in wrapping paper and with several gift boys in his hair. Shockingly, it wasn't Aran who did this-

- Received his secret Santa gift from Kaiser. It was a makeshift lightweight belt Kaiser had crafted himself. Joe cried for 20 minutes straight after receiving it

- His new year resolution is to win more fights

Von Kaiser 🇩🇪🔩

- Had amazing childhood Christmas's as a child (at least the ones with just his mom) and will happily hyperfixate and info dump about them

- Taught Joe how to make fresh gingerbread (Lebkuchen)

- Recieved lots of cute, hand-made christmas cards from his boxing class. Almost cried reading them since they all praised him as a boxing teacher

- Traumatized most of the boxers after he told lore-dropped about Krampus.

- His ugly Christmas sweater was itchy and had bells on it. It quickly got on his nerves, and he later got rid of it... not before taking the bells off though. Spare parts are spare parts!

- Did most of the decorating around the gym and policed anyone who wanted to help decorate the tree. Clearly, he's an expert

- Received his secret santa gift from Bald Bull. He got this adorable "build it yourself" cuckoo clock set and absolutely adored it. (Extra hc that Bald Bull knows wayyy too much about the boxers' personal lives bc he's so quiet and listens in on their secretive conversations).

- His new year resolution was to practice self love more

- Around midnight, when the snow slowed down, he took Joe outside for a little private slow dance behind the gym, out in the snow... they kissed by the end of the hour, by the end of their slow dance ❤️

Disco Kid 🇺🇲 🕺

- "I 👁jUsT wAnT🤲 yOu🫵 FoR 4️⃣mY oWn🤲, MoRe ➕️ThAn YoU 🫵cOuLd EvEr KnOw🧠, MaKe🔨 My WiSh✨️ CoMe TrOoOoO✅️... aLl I wAnT🤲 fOr 4️⃣ChRiStMaS🎄 iS yOuUuU🫵" ....all. night. long. With Aran too.

- Got a cute reindeer sweater from the ref, and wore it all night. Got sad when Kaiser threw out his own sweater.

- Has an entire, 100+ song playlist he made for the party. About 10 of the songs on it were remixes of that one Mariah Carey one he loves so much

- Danced with Aran all-night long, despite Arans lack of rhythm. Got giggly af when Aran kissed him.

- Took a picture of Joe wrapped under the tree. It's now the official WVBA Christmas card.

- Accidentally burnt his tongue drinking the hot chocolate Hondo brought

- Kept in contact with Hondo, Aran, and Tiger as they stole Flamenco out of Brooklyn Heights. Acted as the "mission control" of the Flamenco heist situation

- Recieved his secret santa gift from King Hippo. It was a necklace made of pearls, that were decorated to look like little disco balls. He loved it, weared it all night long... and thanked King Hippo with a big ole hug.

- His new years resolution is to take his career as a boxer a little bit more seriously

King Hippo 🏝 🦛

- Hates the cold sm, he's napping by the heater 90% of the time

- Hondo was nice enough to supply the king with extra hot cocoa

- His sweater sadly didn't fit him

- Loudest teeth chattering in the world

- The boxers who got rid of their sweaters gave them to Hippo for him to use as a blanket... plus the warm hug Hippo got from Disco Kid.

- "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas" is considered an offensive song to him and his kin. Disco Kid nearly lost an arm before promptly removing the song from his holiday playlist.

- Recieved his secret santa gift from Soda Popinski. He got a little Hippo plushie! He stimmed and roared a lot from it, so the boxers assumed he was happy. The plushie was pineapple scented too, so it reminded him of home.

- Doesn't know what a new years resolution is, and he didn't make one.

Piston Hondo 🇯🇵🍣

- Cooked most of the non-baked foods for the party, including freshly made hot chocolates... fanciest hot chocolates ever made.

- Gave up his cute penguin sweater to Hippo, despite actually liking the sweater

- Was the designated driver during the "Flamenco Heist" mission... which is good, since none of the other participants could drive that quietly.

- Got pulled over for speeding out of Brooklyn Heights... buuut after getting the ticket and trying to get Aran to stop cursing at the policeman, he eventually transports Don and the boys safely to the party.

- Crashed out under the tree after the heist.

- (Before the heist) recieved his secret santa gift from Glass Joe. He got a cute pusheen cat mug and a christmas card with a handwritten Haiku in it, about what a great friend Hondo is. Needless to say, Hondo was very grateful.

- His new years resolution list is loooong... stuff like "lose weight" and "focus on social life" and "be less selfish"... basically a lot of insecurities he secretly has.

Bear Hugger 🇨🇦🐻

- Got a large tree, fresh from the woods (AND replanted it, because deforestation is bad ✨️)

- Spruce didn't attend the party bc he was hibernating

- Bear recieved a polar bear sweater that was way too small on him, which sucked because he liked it. After Hippo was done using the unused sweaters as a blanket, Bear would later give his sweater to Lomasi, even if it's way too big for her. She loves it though

- Ate most of the food and stole some leftovers for Spruce and Lomasi to snack on. The sugar made him stay up all night

- Wayyyy too invested in the whole Flameco heist story

- Around 3am, he left the party and got his woodland animal friends to steal the remnants of Don's torn coat from a local dump, and he got them all to repair it. Don would be gifted it back on Christmas morning, much to Carmen's shock and surprise.

- Recieved his secret santa gift from Super Macho Man. He got two gifts, an adult bib that pointed to his mouth and read "CPDS: Canada's Pancake Disposal System." and Spruce recieved adorable squirrel sized swimming wings (made by Kaiser, gifted by Macho Man).

- His new years resolution is single handedly stop humans and corporations from hurting the environment.

Great Tiger 🇮🇳🐅

- Typically doesn't celebrate Christmas, but is gonna do so this year just to spend time with his friends and to participate in secret santa. (It's a personal choice if Sikh individuals wish to celebrate Christmas or not, according to my research before writing this).

- Absolutely LOVED his corny ahh ugly Christmas cat sweater, wore it during the Flamenco heist situation

- Re-inacted some of Kaisers' christmas stories using his clones

- When Hondo arrived at Carmen's house that evening, Tiger was in charge of distracting Carmen and her family while Aran snuck Don out of the top window. He and his clones did a (technical) one-man caroling mini spectacular, complete with dancing and a short rap session. Ofc Tiger had to he over the top with it

- Screamed like a girl when Aran gifted him a fake dead rat... luckily, Hondo said "Aran, you shouldn't hurt your own kind" after Aran bursted out laughing

- His new years resolution is to be more self sufficient and depend on his magic less

Don Flamenco 🇪🇸 🥀

- His parents from Spain sent him this gorgeous, satin winter coat with a cute little card. They love him very much, despite how little contact Don has with them (due to Carmen ofc)

- Bro had an entire Cinderella arc. Basically, Don wanted to go to the WVBA Christmas party, but Carmen wanted him to stay home and spend the night with her... even though he's been cooped up at her home since mid-December. She says stuff like "I matter more" and "They're better off without you," using such language to gaslight and manipulate Don into staying with her.

- They got into a fight about it, which resulted in Carmen not only tearing up his new winter coat Don's family from Spain had sent him a few days ago... but she also locks him in her room that night until he "becomes a better boyfriend."

- This pushed him over the edge, and he called out to Disco Kid for help! Luckily, Aran, Hondo and Tiger were able to "kidnap" him away from Carmen's place, and Don was able to spend half the night at the party

- Pretended to like his elf christmas sweater so as not to hurt the refs feelings.

- Also wore it because he hates the cold

- Taking selfies along with Macho Man, without thinking that Carmen might see them and know where he was. Thankfully, Carmen didn't.

- Recieved his secret santa present from Great Tiger. He got an expensive skin care kit that he vows to use daily.

- His new years resolution is to "be a stronger boyfriend" for Carmen.

- Snuck back into Carmen's home around 6am and fell asleep on the couch. Was overjoyed the next morning to see his new coat repaired.

Aran Ryan 🇮🇪 😈

- Tries to dance with Disco Kid to the Christmas tunes, but he's got no rhythm, so it looked kinda awkward but cute at the same time.

- Just so happened to be dancing under a mistletoe a certain German precariously placed for a certain French... but only he noticed.

- Quickly kissed Disco Kid before gesturing to the mistletoe.

- Agreed to help save Don's christmas only because he wanted to break into Carmen's home, plus he has experience climbing up to second floors from the outside.... don't ask how.

- Once he broke in, he promptly placed a spare fake dead rat into Carmen's stocking (that was conveniently in her room) before safely carrying Don out of the window

- Threatened to drop Don multiple times if he didn't shut up about the cold... thankfully, Don was okay.

- Recieved his secret santa gift from Bear Hugger. He got A LUMP OF COAL. He nearly destroyed everything in that gym until he looked deeper into the gift bag... and also saw he got a new leather jacket with a badass Irish blessing on the back of it. Bear laughed his ass off at Arans initial reaction

- Didn't say it out loud, but his new years resolution was to be a better behaved human of society... at least for Disco Kid's sake.

Soda Popinski 🇷🇺🍾

- Casually walked to the gym out in the cold wearing a christmas tank top and apple bottom jeans.

- "Soda it's fucking 21 degrees out"

- "And?"

- Liked his snowman sweater, it was super cute to him. He and Macho Man did sweater selfies together

- Chugging eggnog because no one else wants to drink it. The sugar he got also made him stay up all night

- Got scared by Kaisers krampus story and had nightmares until new years

- Started a snowball fight with Aran early on during the party, which Joe unfortunately became a part of

- Recieved his secret santa gift from Don when he eventually arrived at the party.

- His new years resolution was to keep up his alcohol recovery process

Bald Bull 🇹🇷 🐂

- Didn't go to the Christmas party because he hates parties and doesn't celebrate Christmas. He flew back to Turkey to spend time with his family

- Gave gifts around new years to his many family members

- Didn't get his christmas sweater from the ref, but he wouldn't have liked it anyways

- Left Kaiser his secret santa present by the tree along with a note explaining why he didn't come

- When he came back in early January, he received his secret santa gift from Disco Kid. He got a pair of fluffy bull slippers. He loves them and wears them every morning now.

- His new years resolution was to become more approachable

Super Macho Man 🇺🇸🌊

- Is the one who wrapped up Joe and placed him under the tree

- Didn't like the itchy santa sweater he got (it irritated his artificially tanned skin), but he wore it most of the party because Soda wanted to take selfies with him... and gosh darn it, he won't admit it, but he liked seeing Soda all happy and enjoying himself

- Secretly cuddled with Soda each time he had nightmares about the krampus

- Also got scared by Kaisers story

- "Bro who told you about this fucking creature?!?"

- "Mien grandparents."

- "Ah, who would've guessed."

- Made Christmas thrist traps and posted them alongside Don. They even recreated that one santa scene from Mean Girls with just two people

- Recieved his secret santa gift from Piston Hondo. He got a nautical themed surf board, signed by all of the boxers. Bro let's out the loudest fucking "HELL YEAH BRO" when he got it.

- His new years resolution is to keep being talented and handsome

Mr. Sandman 💤 🟢

- Didn't participate in secret santa

- Spent Christmas alone, working out

- Recieved a WVBA merch gift card from Mr. Dream, and a ton of fan mail and gifts from his fans

- Spent Christmas night staying comfortable and sleeping peacefully

- His new years resolution is to try and find a hobby outside of boxing

(Bonus! Because I didn't wanna end on a sad note.)

Little Mac 🥊🟢

- Spent Christmas with Doc and Peter Punch, away from the Christmas party

- They all pulled an all nighter, watching Christmas movies all night

- Doc managed to pull enough money together to give both of them a plentiful christmas

- Despite being teens, Mac and Peter still both believe in Santa Clause.

- They both got lots of presents on Christmas morning, but their favorite gifts was the gamer tank top meant for Peter, and for Mac, it was this necklace with a picture of Doc and Mac first leaving the orphanage

- Mac's new years resolution is to finish school with passing grades, Peter's resolution is to keep up his appearance, and Doc's resolution is to lose a little bit of weight

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a happy holidays! And from the boxers...

"Joyeux noël" - Glass Joe

"Frohe Weihnachten" - Von Kaiser

"RAWR" - King Hippo

"Merīkurisumasu" - Piston Hondo

"मेरी क्रिसमस!" - Great Tiger

"Feliz Navidad!" - Don Flamenco

"Nollaig Shona!" - Aran Ryan (he knows a little bit of Irish lol)

"С Рождеством!" - Soda Popinski

"Mutlu Noeller" - Bald Bull

"Love ya all, have a happy holidays!~"

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Epilogue) AND Boston Bears: Fake Out - Rugby Player! Ari x Reader (Part 1 SNEAK PEAK)

Summary: A year has passed since the championship final and it's a rare opportunity to watch Chris play from the stands

Word Count: 707 words

Warnings: Fluff! Mention of Past Sexual Harrassment! Allusion to SMUT! 18+ ONLY

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Epilogue

1 year later

It was very rare for you to watch a rugby game from the stands. You were generally on the sidelines, watching and making sure you were ready to run on at a moment's notice. It meant you could never really properly enjoy the match.

It was a different story today though. Instead of your navy blue Boston Bears tracksuit and medical bib, you were wearing a white jersey with red and blue stripes and Chris’ name on the back.

You cheered loudly from the stands in the French stadium, watching Chris play in the first World Cup match of the tournament. You thought you would be the loudest person in the stadium but to your surprise, Tommi was shouting and cheering much louder than you. 

“He’s off his feet sir!” Tommi shouted gesturing to the ruck.

If you had told her two years ago that she would have travelled all the way to France for a rugby game she would have died laughing. Yet here she was, lots has changed over the last year and a bit.

One major change was Bryce’s career. Exactly a year after you left the Lion the news broke that an investigation was being launched against Bryce for several sexual harassment allegations. The head coach got in touch with you and asked you to provide a testimony on what Bryce had done to you. You had been apprehensive to go through it all again but Chris promised to be by your side the entire time. He even missed a game to do so. Thanks to you and the other women who came forward, Bryce’s career was over. It took a whole year but you finally had your justice.

“Oh my god ref are you blind!” Tommi shouted.

You chuckled and shook your head as you turned your attention back to the game. It wasn’t long until the final whistle blew and the two of you could make your way down to the sidelines.

Chris smiled as soon as he saw you, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath following an intense match. He always looked so sexy after a match, his hair was always a mess, the veins were bulging in his arms. Energy would radiate off of him which made the rest of the stadium disappear.

He walked over to you and enveloped you in a tight hug. Anyone else would feel a little grossed out because of how sweaty he was but you didn’t care. The two of you spent plenty of time getting sweaty together and it never bothered you.

“Sorry that you guys lost,” you said rubbing his biceps soothingly.

He shrugged his shoulders “We knew it was gonna be tough going against the hosts but I think we did well” 

“You did very well, I’m very proud of you” You smiled reaching up to kiss him.

“Thank you sweetheart” he grinned “Knowing you were out there wearing my jersey definitely helped” 

“I can wear it later if you want” you smirked.

“I want you to only wear it, and this of course” Chris smirked as he lifted your left hand, this thumb brushing past the ring on your fingers.

“I think I can do that” you smiled. 

Chris had proposed to you on the anniversary of the championship win. He had admitted that he planned to do it earlier on the anniversary of when you first met but with everything that went down with Bryce, he decided to hold off. It was a beautiful May evening, the stadium was deserted when he led you onto the pitch right to the centre before getting down on one knee and asking you the most important question you’ll ever have to answer. You had barely let him finish when you squealed yes multiple times and tackled him to the floor in a massive hug. The sound of his laughter echoed around the stadium as you landed on top of him. 

“God I love you so much” he beamed as he cupped your cheeks.

“I love you more” you smiled reaching up to first kiss the tip of his nose before landing on his lips, the ones you’ll call home for the rest of your life. 

Boston Bears: Fake Out - Rugby Player! Ari Levinson x Reader

A/N: Just a quick reminder that the reader from Off-Limits has now become an OFC called Elena and Tommi is now our reader!

Word Count: 796 words

Warnings: Language! Mention of Masterbation! Minor Angst!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Boston Bears Masterlist / Masterlist

“Levinson is everything okay?” the head coach questioned with an arched brow “Everything at home?” 

Ari felt his defences go up all of a sudden “Perfect” he stated “Can I go to training now or is there more to say on how I won’t represent my country?”

Once again the head coach didn’t react, nothing more than clench his jaw “No” he said gesturing for Ari to leave. 

Ari did exactly that, storming out of the media room. The door slammed loudly behind him. He couldn’t wait to get to the weight room where he could work through his frustrations which were only getting worse. 

He was so caught up in his anger that he wasn’t really looking where he was going. He turned a corner and ran straight into someone. He looked down to see a woman he didn’t recognise, her hair up in a messy bun, and baggy clothes. She certainly didn’t work here, and only staff and players were allowed in the building.

She stuttered an apology but Ari’s anger and frustration that had been simmering since the match on Saturday boiled over “Who the hell are you? You know you can’t be back here? What are you a fan desperate for an autograph or media desperate for a scoop?” He demanded.

The woman stuttered slightly before completely breaking down in tears. Ari scoffed in frustration and moved to step around her, he’d have to go find security to deal with this. 

He’d just stepped around her when he heard someone speak up behind him “Y/N? What on earth are you doing here?” Elena said.

Ari turned around and saw Chris and Elena standing there. Elena had a look of shock on her face, while Chris was frowning at Ari. He then glanced back down at the woman beside him who was sobbing. It took him a moment but he then recognised you. You were the bombshell that had him by the balls from the moment he met you back in late April. 

“What the fuck Levinson” Chris demanded as Elena rushed over and hugged you. 

“I- I didn’t-“ Ari stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What's wrong? Why on earth are you here?” Elena asked you softly.

“I’m sorry I meant to call yesterday but I forgot and- and-“ you stuttered before breaking down into sobs again. 

“Hey, hey, hey it’s okay let’s get you out of here” Elena said shooting a glare up at Ari before wrapping an arm around you and leading you away.

Chris watched as Elena took you away and out of sight before turning back to Ari “What the hell man? Why’d you yell at her? Why’d you upset her like that?” Chris demanded.

Ari shook his head unable to think of a reason “I didn’t even recognise her” he muttered “I thought she was a crazed fan or something”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at her even if she was!” Chris argued shaking his head at him.

“I know… I- I fucked up” Ari admitted.

Fucked up was an understatement. From the moment he set eyes on you in that hotel bar you captured his attention and never let go. You looked absolutely stunning in the red sundress you’d been wearing, a beautiful smile on your face as you laughed with Elena. He’d felt this tugging sensation that drew him closer and he knew he had to at least say hello. 

He’d been secretly devastated when you held out your hand and showed off your engagement ring. He’d only just met you, he knew nothing about you but he found himself cursing the universe that he’d met you too late. He hadn’t missed his chance, he never had one. Yet despite all that he couldn’t just drop it, he wanted to get to know you, flirt with you. Maybe he hoped that your relationship was on the rocks and he had a chance, that he couldn’t leave LA without even trying. Maybe he hoped it would get you out of his system.

It didn’t.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about you for the last 5 months. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d fantasised about you, and thought of you whenever he needed to find a release. Ari was no stranger to finding hookups but he hadn’t even managed to do that because he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

He kicked himself for the way he behaved. If you didn’t want him before, you definitely wouldn’t want him now after he made you cry. His heart ached as he replayed the moment your face crumpled, your left hand moving to cup your mouth as if you could stop yourself from crying.

Wait.

“She wasn’t wearing her ring” Ari muttered as he looked over at Chris.

A/N: I am so sad to be sharing the offical ending of Chris' story but so excited to share the first proper sneak peak into Ari's story which will go live in the New Year!!! and for those of you who will miss Chris and his medic as you can see they will definitely be featuring in future stories! See you in the New Year!

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated! Same goes for Masterlist, AO3 and Wattpad!

Off-Limits Series Masterlist / Boston Bears Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

[princesssmars]

concrete jungle with the devil.

some victoria neuman x reader headcanons.

part.ii of this

you’re beautiful, you’re talented, and you’re the secret girlfriend of a hot and potentially crazy congresswoman. what more could you ask for?

contains : fxf relationship. fluff. angst. manipulation, pretty toxic relationship because its the boys and its victoria, mentions of smut. readers hair and face not described.

wc : 2.415

a/n : started this when season two was airing. look at what an idiot i was.

you had forgotten how much walking was done in certain cities in the states, especially in the big apple. to be fair, you’d forgotten quite a few things.

you remembered things you had forgotten gradually after that night when you realized you were not only a supe, but a supe that had been unknowingly manipulating yourself with your apparent superpowers into forgetting parts of your life. would be a cool plot for a book if it wasn’t your entire life but, whatever.

after managing to think of the revelation without nearly having a panic attack and ‘crazy high blood pressure’ as victoria so eloquently put it, you’d fallen into a kind of…ease?

in her ‘loving worry’ the woman had put you under her watchful eye, moving you into her home to prevent you from doing anything ‘drastic’ and helping you acclimate to your new state of living. she paid for your expensive hotel for another week before not subtly (and not asking) recommending you stay in her townhome.

and she’ll make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be the entire time. find the guest bed uncomfortable? her first offer is for you to just sleep with her, but she’ll settle for making sure you have a new mattress and comforter set. feeling sad over your rapid change in diet? a personal chef is hired to make you authentic parisian dishes to your hearts content.

it’s completely jarring how she has such a hold on your heart. you know a part of you can’t move on because of your powers, but every time you try to remind yourself of how weird your situation is you’re roped right back in when she comes home from work and tells you how she was thinking of you all day, giving you physical affection when you seem open to it by pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

as childish as it is, a small part of you wishes you had an actual label for your relationship. ‘woman who wooed me then flew me across the globe to accomplish my dream and then revealed she wants to take advantage of my unexplored power’ was more than a mouthful. even ‘partner’ would be preferable.

it’s amplified by the fact that you aren’t really in a relationship.

you’ve slept together, something you embarrassingly think about often at night when your hand trails beneath the soft satin pajama set she had gifted you. at the end of the day you do have needs, and having your sexual world rocked only to have to (reasonably) avoid the perpetrator as best as you can is all too confusing to process.

not to mention that she still treats you sweetly and romantically when in private, fingers brushing over your arms and pet names whenever she sees you in a room of her house, but outside and in public her career calls for…propriety? and a relationship with another woman in your career would hurt her numbers apparently. at least that's what her publicist said. she didn't seem very bright yo you, but victoria was throwing hundreds at her to support her campaign.

and oh yeah, she decides to tell you randomly on a thrusday night in while making dinner with her daughter that she actually is talking with another politician about running for president and vice president. zoe had to help you when you nearly choked on your pasta.

you hadn't delved too deep into politics when over in paris, only googling the basics about small party leaders who'd show up to bars and would likely engage in small talk over a few drinks. the first time you even learned about vic's profession you already heard alarm bells in your head, but president? seriously?

she tried to reassure you about it, listing off all the benefits it would bring to her family - which now apparently includes you. a better government position meant a better quality of living, moving into the secure grounds of number one observatory circle with access to the government's protection, connections, and loads of money. you and zoe both perked up at that. you looked at the girl curiously and she shrugged her shoulders, admitting later that she would like to be able to travel to more places farther than the met.

unsurprisingly, you grow closer to zoe. you aren’t given many opportunities to make a lot of friends, and the only adult conversations you get are your friends back in pairs over the phone and victoria along with her campaign help. at first you helped her a little with her homework, even if the curriculum for her private school was leagues above what you learned in your little low-budget middle school. eventually, you start to just talk about shared interests, and you're pleasantly surprised to find out the girl is musically gifted. its sweet to see that vic set up a corner of her office for the girl to practice her talents, and whenever she offers you listen to her play a piece on her cello.

you never bring it up, but one time victoria stopped at the house for a long lunch once and overheard the two of you talking about a piece you both loved before zoe practiced it on her instrument. she stood out of sight in the doorway for a minute and just observed. as soon as you noticed her presence she was gone.

when things start looking up in the polls vic starts to show a little leniency with letting you have an actual life. of course she uses some backdoor connections to get you a boost in your career, and you find a great deal of peace in being able to perform to your hearts content. it only helps that the atmosphere of entertainment in new york is alive and bursting, you meet so many fellow musicians and singers.

slowly but surely you start to fall for the city. sure it can be dirty and smell weird and have heaps of garbage everywhere, but just like with paris you’re able to find the hidden jems that lurk just below the surface.

and after some pestering whenever the two of you manage to be in a room alone together for more than a few minutes, victoria finally starts to explain to you…well, you.

you’d always gotten a bad feeling by vought, never liked the way they profited off of the supers and marketed them to certain countries and people. finding out that they made you the ‘way you are’ . apparently, both you and vic’s parents thought letting a company shoot some super drug into their children would a smart idea, that you’d both go on to do something great.

“well, i guess you are kind of great, in a sense. smart enough to become a politician, raise a good kid. are they proud of you?”

she only gave you a dry chuckle as she took a sip of her dark wine.

“yeah, yeah they’re really proud.”

as much as you start to try, you cant get in to her head. you’ve been thrust into the middle of her life and routine and there’s still so many things about her you don’t know. hell, you don’t even know what her power really is still. you can tell she wants to let you in some, either for her own feelings or because she wants to help you explore your supercharged feelings for her to understand more about your abilities.

but just like when you talked about vought, as soon as she’s about to open up you see that look, one of a fear you’d never quite seen before flash in her eyes before she quickly dismisses you.

so you decide to tale a.. drastic measure to get some things out of her.

you had been exploring your power a bit in your new daily life, just little things that didn’t make too much of a difference or affect anyone too greatly. a simple request for the customer ahead of you to apologize to a barista they’d needlessly ridiculed, innocently asking a rushing passerby to give you directions to a cafe you had just been dying to try. it took a few weeks to get the hang of it, the fact that it apparently worked best when you were singing and the toll it could take on your body, but the dizziness fades eventually.

it’s a rare night where the two of you are in the house alone together and you decide to celebrate your recent well-perceived performance by opening up a bottle of bubbly and sitting on the couch, dressed in some maybe too revealing pajamas and waiting for her to inevitably join you once she finishes settling in from a long day at the campaign office.

she joins you and clink s her glass to yours, rolling her eyes into your drink when you immediately ask her a question about all of her plans.

“its gonna take more than some expensive champagne and you looking like that for me to crack, but nice try sweetheart.”

“oh yeah?” your finger teases the rim of your glass, eyes trained on her movements.

“yeah. let’s stick to the basic questions for now.”

you hum a short tune to yourself and take another sip of your drink. “okay. you should tell me what you had for lunch today.”

“patricia picked me up a ceasar salad today. it had too many croutons, a really absurd amount. sat confused for a few seconds.”

her eyes scrunch up slightly and flick to yours. you take her silence as a sign to keep going.

“i never really get to talk to your assistant. she told me once her name was morticia.”

she laughs and sets her glass on the coffee table, “think she might’ve been intimidated by you. she can be a real tightass but she’s a hardworker, believes in my campaign and message and all that shit.”

“dont try to skirt past that, tell me why she’s intimidated by me.”

her eye twitches, clearly annoyed by what you’re doing and not used to someone having this kind of control over her. but each time you do it you notice the way her hand clenches on the cushion of the sofa, how her tongue darts out to quickly lick over her bare lips.

“she wants me, checks me out sometimes when we’r ein the office. but the reason i hired her is that she’s incredibly observant, and she’s probably picked up that the two of us have a weird thing going on.”

your eyes slightly scrunch together. “what do you mean by ‘weird thing’ ?”

clearly your aggravation at how she decided to describe...admittedly whatever this weird thing between the two of you was, its enough for your concentration to slip and allow her to get out of the concentrated hold you had on her mind. in only a few seconds she’s pinning your body down to the couch, your wrists held down by her hands and your drink falling to the floor with a loud shatter.

‘ugh! vic, what the hell-” you struggle to get out of her grip, thrashing your arms and trying to kick up your legs that are trapped under her thighs. you apparently greatly underestimated how strong she is.

“that’s it baby, get angry, let it all out.” she has a fascinated smile on her face that does nothing to quell your frustration, only giving you the desire to get right back to messing with her anyway how.

“tell me why you’re doing this to me!”

“i like watching you under me, plus i like having control over you. definitely don’t want you turning the tables on me again.”

you notice that when you command her to explain her voice takes on this fast tone, like she’s rushing to answer you as soon as you finish speaking.

“you think i’ve dont you what you’ve done to me?”

“isn’t it fucking obvious? you just forced me to tell you something i wasn’t supposed to mention. i have to keep sharing things with you, you make me want to share things with you. you’re controlling me and you don’t even know it.”

“why don’t you want me to control you?”

“because i’ve been controlled before. its horrifying. you could be horrifying. because it’s not part of the plan. none of this is. god, you were supposed to be gone by now but i just can’t…i don’t-”

both of you’re eyes are wide when her speech starts to slip, fighting against the control to keep telling you what she’s hiding. her head jerks and you feel a rush of hot liquid rush down your face, your hand miraculously free to let you feel the blood pouring out of your nose. you look back at her and she’s scrambled to the other end of the couch, eyes trained ahead of her as she gets herself out of the daze.

abruptly she stands up, swiping off any leftover unease and starting her trek towards the stairs as you wipe off the now slow moving trail of fluid trailing from your nose.

as soon as she reaches the first step you call out to her, blood dripping into your mouth as your voice takes on a bittersweet and melodic sound.

“how do you feel about me, victoria?”

her manicured hand clenches around the wood bannister so hard you fear it’ll snap.

“you’re powerful. you’re useful and you’re terrifying.”

tears prick at your lashline as you swipe at more of the red covering your mouth. her head turns to meet your blurry gaze.

“i think i’m in love with you.”

you zone out to the sound of her footsteps rushing up the stairs and the light-headness from exertion.

you had forgotten what one one of the worst things about being in a city was. how despite being surrounded by thousands of people and hundreds of lives, inevitably came those times where you were alone as a person could be.

[tothepointofinsanity]

This may sound like a weird question, but do you know how people interact with their interests? Like people who really like trains for example, do they just study trains? I want to be one of these people but also studying sounds boring lol

Interests are generally diverse. I am really into pathology, specifically zoonoses, and while such an interest is “hard-coded” in textbooks and research papers, it’s more interesting to watch films about disease control and backtrack to research to see how accurate or expansive it holds up in a creative lens. Or when I travel and see signs in other places warning about a certain illness, I am more inclined to look it up and recall my understanding of said illness, why it’s even warned in that area and such.

Outside of school, such knowledge has no real purpose unless I am pursuing a career in pathology, so studying it for the sake of learning more is predictably boring and inefficient. It seems quite arbitrary, but how you interact with it will ultimately depend on how accessible it is, and how intense/important that interest is to you. Most of the time you’ll end up delving into it because you want to, more than you have to [unless you reach a certain point where it becomes your second nature, at least].

Additionally, there are other ways to interact with your interests. Using the example you have provided, I do personally know a public transport enthusiast, and they go around taking public transport as frequently as possible whenever they travel, be it within the city or in a foreign country. Since they’re more or less acquainted with most trains, they just enjoy the opportunity of experiencing the ride all the while recounting what they know about it. They even taught me how to navigate the local buses. So if the interest is physical, in a sense, it would also be more convenient to learn about it in-person.

That’s just my own experience though, and I am unsure how helpful such advice would be. Nevertheless, thank you for your ask ^^

[kittenfangirl20]

Lucifer was making his way back to the room they shared to find the door hanging open and Adam nowhere to be found. He ran through the hotel hoping to find him. But he only ran into Lilith.

Lucifer: Where is Adam?

Lilith: If you mean Amelia, I don’t know where that fat cow is. But why would you want her when you can have me.

Lilith forced a kiss on Lucifer, but he slammed her into a wall. She gasped in horror, in spite of the fact that Lucifer was shorter than her, he looked like a demon.

Lucifer: His name is not Amelia, it is Adam. You will tell me where he is or I will cut you to pieces while you are still alive.

He was still going to kill Lilith, but she didn’t have to know that.

Lilith: Fine, I will take you to your precious “Adam” but I can’t guarantee she will still be alive.

Lucifer slammed her into the wall again for misgendering his husband. He made her walk out with them while Adam was slowly waking up. He trembled when he heard Alastor talking to Vox and Velvette.

Alastor: Where is Valentino?

Velvette: Who knows, he went off to recruit another porn star and I haven’t seen him since.

Vox: He will probably turn up in a couple days.

Adam: Why are you holding me prisoner.

Alastor: It seems you have angered Lilith enough that she wants you dead. She helped me start my career as an author if I help her kill some people. I already kill, but now I get paid to do it. Isn’t that great? You seem like a nice person, but if Lilith wants you dead then I will follow her orders.

For once Adam was happy to be married to a serial killer. Even if he didn’t make it in time to save him, Lucifer would avenge his death. But he had to hope that Lucifer made it in time to save him.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Dexter Au

Tonight's the night, I've been waiting all week for it and it's finally here.

Lucifer watched from the shadows as his next victim left the bar. A man that should be in prison after raping and killing an 18 year old girl.

He makes Luicfer sick.

Slowly and quietly, Lucifer snuck up behind him with some M-99 and injected it into his neck. The man fell down and he caught him before dragging him off to the plastic covered room where Lucifer was going to murder and dismember his body.

Lucifer secured him to the table, toyed with him when he woke up and plunged the knife into his heart killing him.

Lucifer sighed with relief, that felt better. One less scum out there.

His phone beeped and when he checked it, it was a reminder for date night.

Date night with Adam.

Lucifer cracked a smile at the thought of his boyfriend of six months, Adam was sweet and kind, everything he's not. Luicfer's adoptive sister Lute introduced him to Adam after a 911 domestic disturbance where his ex husband Steve best the snot out of Adam in front of their kids.

Lucifer thought he was some sort of heartless monster only good for killing until he met Adam. To him Adam was his everything and he wanted Adam to see that. Lucifer got dressed for the date and made sure he looked perfect. Since Adam and his sons were staying at the same apartment complex he lived at, he was able to walk there to meet him. Cain answered the door, the poor guy was very protective of Adam ever since Steve beat him.

Cain: You can come in.

Lucifer: Thank you.

Adam: Cain, is that Luci? Can you tell him I just need a couple minutes?

Lucifer: It’s me, I heard you.

Adam: Good, I’m almost ready.

Lucifer went and sat on the couch with Cain and Abel, they were both good kids. Lucifer looked at the pictures of Adam and his children. Oddly he didn’t see anything of Adam in high school or when he was a kid. He had his suspicions about why that was, but he was going to wait until Adam was ready to tell him. Just then Adam walked out with the babysitter who must have helped Adam get ready. Lucifer blushed when the babysitter was right about Lucifer being handsome.

Lucifer internally: He thinks I am handsome, my Adam thinks I am handsome.

Adam: It also helps the boys already love him as well.

Lucifer took Adam’s hand and kissed it, the boys were still young enough to think open displays of affection were gross. But Adam thought they were the sweetest thing ever.

Adam: I have left some money so they can order a pizza and I will see you tomorrow boys.

They hugged Adam and told him how much they loved him. The two went to a nice restaurant, Lucifer had saved up enough to get Adam anything he wanted. It also helped that some of his victims were wealthy and preferred to carry cash. Also his work as a blood splatter analyst got him a raise recently. After they had dinner and dessert they went out dancing. As usual Adam and Lucifer ended up in the backseat of Lucifer car in a heavy make out session. Adam sitting on Lucifer’s lap while they kissed and couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. They were gasping for air with their foreheads pressed against each other when they pulled apart.

Adam: Thank you for being so willing to take things slowly.

Lucifer: For you it is worth it.

Adam: After Steve I didn’t think I would find someone who would love me without hurting me, but you proved me wrong. I love you, Luci.

Lucifer: I love you too, Adam.

In fact Lucifer would kill anyone that he deemed a threat to his Adam. He was going to make sure that his Adam only knew safety, joy, and love.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[destielfanfic]

Group Ask #215

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Ask #1 ( @trampslike-us ): there’s this fic…#1

Hi! I have been searching for a fic to the point I think I’ve totally made it up now! Pretty sure it’s SU where Dean used to turn tricks to make money for him and Sam as teenagers and he’s working through some shit while him and Cas start a relationship. Sam doesn’t know about Deans past but Dean lets it slip at a dinner (poss thanksgiving?) at Jodie’s (I think!) after a few drinks. I keep going back to Like Moses and Batman thinking it must be that but get to the end and realise it’s not! If you have any idea what I’m talking about send help <3

Ask #2 ( @targaryenchester): there’s this fic…#2

I am at my wits end. I need to reread this fic like my life depends on it. But I can't find this fic anywhere. So the plot kind of goes like this- Dean is a Rockstar but he retired so Sam can have his own career, not just some nepo kid of a big shot singer. However sam screws up with drugs. Dean is retired, he sings at Ellen's bar. Sam feels bad so he brings Cas to check out a singer (Dean). Cas is part of a rival label but he still agrees. Sam is determined to help Dean relaunch his career. So that's how Cas meets Dean. At the bar when Dean is singing. That's the core setting. Does a fic like that rings a bell? Pls help me out🥺🥺

Ask #3 ( @grilmo-bartlett ): there’s this fic…#3

Hi! Im wondering if you can help me find a fic? its really not a destiel fic per se, but I think it was written by someone who hadn't actually seen supernatural and they thought dean was named "destiel." it was kind of a crack fic and I don't remember much else about it, but I feel like I saw it on tumblr. just spent the last hour or so looking and I cant get anywhere. Thank you so much for any help!

Ask #4 ( @buckbuckleydiaz118 ): there’s this fic…#4

Hi! I’m looking for a fic I read on AO3 a while ago and it was a longish multichapter fic, E rating I’m pretty sure. Dean and Cas were in college, Dean was a football player and kind of a bully to Cas and they hid their relationship for a while and had a big angsty break up because Dean saw Alastair bullying Cas again and just turned away instead of defending him yet again and then Dean had a breakdown when Cas left him and threw the necklace Dean gave him back at him. They reconciled after much groveling on Dean’s part. Anna and Gabriel were also in it as Cas’ supportive and protective friends. Thank you!

Ask #5 ( @caseyjw1973 ): there’s this fic…#5

Looking for a fic. It's either deleted or on another platform besides AO3. Dean is a rock star/musician. He performs with a mask. Cas is his assistant and he does not like Dean but is a huge fan of the masked musician. Dean ends up giving Cas a necklace as the singer. I started to read it but I didn't save it. Any ideas?

It takes a village to find a lost fic, every reblog is appreciated!