#used loading screen of him for reference

[yandere-daydreams]

exhibit #2 - shark week

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!cullens x reader (twilight).

length: 1.4k.

warnings: non/con, afab!reader, dehumanization, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of medical malpractice, blood, slight initialization, and generalized twilight.

After moving in with the Cullens, your monthly cycles start to follow a similar routine.

‘Moving in’ meaning, of course, accidentally signing your rights to autonomy away to your doctor while you were so loaded up on sedatives the he hand to cup your hand in his just to make you hold the pen, and ‘period’ referring to, of course, the week or so you spent bleeding out in a house full of half-starved vampires. Carlisle claimed that it was dead blood and held little to no nutritional value for their kind, citing his children’s ability to attend the local community college without gutting an eighth of the students every month as evidence that your menstrual cycle wouldn’t cause an unwanted stir. When you reminded him that humans craved plenty of things that weren’t good for them, like chocolate and liquor and dubiously ethical affairs with their unnaturally cold general practitioners, he only hummed and asked what kind of products you preferred.

Esme usually noticed first. Sometimes, she’d catch it before you did, show up to your bedroom door with a warm compress and a tray of comfort food with only a kind smile by way of explanation, and you’d notice the pin-pricks of red dotting your sheets later on. Carlisle would usually be at work by then, so she’d spend her morning fussing over you, holding her hand to your forehead and forcing home-remedies past your lips until you manage to make her believe that one of her bitter teas had cured you wholesale. There’s a thin line between how she treats you when you’re sick and how she treats you on your period. One was a monthly ordeal, the other a hyper-rare occurrence in their meticulously sterile home, but both rendered you faint and encumbered, more receptive to her mothering. She liked it when you needed her. You guessed the reason why didn’t really matter.

(You used to assume that, if you were ever unfortunate enough to meet her, Esme would hate you. She’d see you as a homewrecker, as competition, or failing that, as a nuisance disrupting her otherwise idyllic domestic bliss. But, she’d never been that hostile, treating you more similarly to one of her adoptive children than her husband’s kidnapped mistress. It probably helped that her relationship with Carlisle was built more on a mutual affinity for make-believe than anything as fragile as love or passion. He was playing doctor, and she was playing dolls. He’d taken an interest in you for the former pastime, before gifting you to his wife for the latter.)

Eventually, you’d insist that you’d gotten enough bedrest and needed fresh air. That was when Alice would find you – waiting just outside of your bedroom door, her smile wide and your outfit for that day slung over her arm. As a rule, you did your best to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Wrong Side of the Mason Dixon Line, but she was one of the more forceful Cullens, prone to stepping on your heels and holding your preferred hideaways hostage until you relented to whatever form of dress-up she planned out for you. Normally, she’d be satisfied with doing your hair, testing out make-up swatches on someone with a skin tone darker than ivory, making you try on outfits that never seemed to repeat. On your period, though, she was a little clingier.

“Edward wrote from Belgium,” she’d say, absentmindedly curling her fingers inside of you. Most rooms in the Cullen house didn’t have a bed, so she would settle for the floor – letting you lean against an antique loveseat, skirt pooled around your waist and three crimson-stained digits buried in your cunt. “He’s so old-fashioned. Bella just calls, but no, he doesn’t want Nessie around too many screens. As if the poor thing won’t be fourteen this fall. Oh, and Jasper’s coming home tomorrow. He's already sick of Portland.”

Jasper wasn’t allowed within two hundred miles of Forks when you were on your period. Not after the tampon incident.

If you were loud enough, and you almost always were loud enough, Rosalie would come to your rescue. That was why she was your favorite.

Your time with her was largely spent outside, where it was a little more difficult to be tempted by the blood coursing through your veins. You’d sit on a riverbed with a book in your lap while she kept a measured distance, breaking the silence only to remind you to eat or drink or stretch your legs – little human inconveniences the others liked to forget about. Emmett, meanwhile, would take a more active approach to babysitting, pestering you to skip rocks or trying to make you laugh. Occasionally, he wouldn’t make it to your little picnics, and inevitably, you’d find a pair of your panties missing from your dresser the next day. Eventually, they’d turn up mixed in Rosalie’s collection – always nearly torn to shreds. You tried not to hold it against him. At least he had the decency to disregard your personhood behind your back.

You liked Emmett, but you liked Rosalie more. She was the only one who’d raised her voice to Carlisle the night he brought you home, the only one to continually acknowledge the issue of expecting a lamb to live among its butchers. It was nice – having someone willing to advocate for you. Or, to be able to believe that someone might, at least.

Once, you’d even asked her if she’d be willing to let you escape. Not even help, really, just leave a set of car keys where you could find them, or tell you where Carlisle’s security cameras were hidden, or refuse to cooperate while the rest of her family hunted you for sport. She’d taken minutes to answer. Time seemed to be an overabundant resource to eternal creatures. They were prone to letting it slip by in quantities that often made you, a being with fewer days to spare, feel sick.

“If I thought your life was in danger.”

Your life, of course, referring to your humanity. You doubted she’d have so much sympathy for you once you’d been reduced to yet another walking statue.

“It might not be something they plan.” And then, pulling your knees into your chest, “I’m really scared, Ro.”

She hadn’t said anything. When your attention turned back to your book, she asked you to read aloud.

Later on, Carlisle would come home. He’d spare a quick greeting for the rest of his coven, find whatever pantry or cupboard you’d attempted to hide yourself away in, and guide you back to your bedroom.

Intimacy wasn’t uncommon with him, but penetration was saved solely for your period. He was always slow, always gentle, but when you were bleeding, it was nearly agonizing – his hips grinding lazily into yours, his hands curled around your oak headboard, his unblinking eyes never breaking away from yours. No mind was paid to the unmarred white of Esme’s sheets. He’d watch lovingly as pink-tinged arousal dripped down your thighs, murmur sweet nothings as you cried and whined and whimpered for him to stop, that it hurt, that it wasn’t safe. If he felt like talking, he might list off the medical benefits of period sex – pain relief, stress reduction, heightened libido – or promise to be more careful next time, to have more patience in the future. Most nights, though, it was just your desperation, his adoration, and the dull sound of marble against flesh.

He didn’t need to sleep, but you weren’t so resilient. No matter how many times you came, he’d only let you go when your eyes grew too heavy to hold open, when your sobbed protests died down into little, sniffling complaints, when you finally went limp underneath his rigid form. He would sigh as he pulled out, not sparing any words of comfort before taking you into his arms. There’d be a bath, always so impossibly lukewarm, and then some humiliatingly frilly nightgown – more fitting for a toddler from his era than and adult from yours. If you were lucky, you’d still have the energy to insist on wearing a pad to sleep. If you didn’t, then Carlisle would get his way, and you’d be drenched in your own blood by the next morning.

Without fail, Esme would be perched on the edge of your bed by the time Carlisle finished. They’d both tuck you in – a pair of children putting their toy away after playtime – and you would fall asleep to the vile sounds of Esme lapping your blood off her husband’s cock.

[hyuckiefluff]

call out my name | lee jeno

pairing: stepbrother! lee jeno x fem reader genre + wc: smut / enemies to lovers-ish | 17k+ summary: your stepbrother suddenly starts acting a bit different after fixing your laptop, and you wonder if it has anything to do with the endless posts you’ve made about wanting him to fuck you brainless. content warning: stepcest, voyeurism, masturbation, cheating, smoking and brief mentions of drug use, unprotected sex, hard dom jeno, oral (fem receiving), face riding weee, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, jeno is a bit mean (but like in a hot way), lmk if i missed any! a/n: haven’t written for jeno in soooo long and my body needed it. also, beatbox era jeno still has me in a chokehold, so i imagined him looking exactly like that while writing this. that mullet-undercut combo was LETHAL i need him to reheat his own nachos expeditiously. also the lowercase is back too, i'm still trying to figure out if i like this more lol ps: if u catch the twilight reference you’ll get a kiss from me :p

jeno stomped into your room, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, jaw tight with irritation. your voice still echoed in his head.

‘fix my laptop and i won’t tell your dad you’ve been skipping almost every class since the semester started.’

fix it? he wasn’t a damn IT guy. and how the hell did you even know he’d been skipping? what were you, a stalker?

seriously, it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t take care of your stuff. and why couldn’t you just take the damn thing to a repair shop?

“i need it for college work,’ you’d said.

yeah, right. like he didn’t hear you at night. his room was right next to yours, and those walls were way too thin. not only were you loud, but you also needed headphones, because he could hear exactly what kind of videos you watched.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping up to your desk. the laptop sat there, taunting him in its sickly sweet pink case covered in hello kitty stickers.

“god, what a child,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before plopping onto your chair. the cushion was still warm from you sitting there earlier. he flipped the laptop open, and a password prompt appeared.

he tried your birthday first. denied.

with a sigh, he scanned your desk. you were forgetful, he was sure you had the password written somewhere. his eyes landed on a cluster of polaroids, mostly of you and your boyfriend. he grabbed one and flipped it over. sure enough, there was a scribbled note in your messy handwriting.

‘happy anniversary, my baby ❤️’ and a date.

jeno scoffed but typed it in anyway. the screen unlocked with a soft chime.

the moment your desktop loaded, he was met with a picture of you sprawled out on a beach towel, skin sun-kissed, in a tiny white bikini that barely covered anything. jeno swallowed.

several seconds passed before he snapped himself out of it, shaking his head and forcing his attention elsewhere.

your laptop was a disaster. it was clogged with files, random downloads, and so many pop-ups it was a miracle the thing still functioned. he clicked around, deleting error files and clearing out junk.

then a notification popped up from a browser window that was open in the background.

he opened the tab out of habit, not expecting anything interesting, but then the page loaded and he had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing right.

it was a blog called ‘horny antidotes.’

"what the hell is this?" he snorted.

he scrolled, thumb hovering before tapping on a section labeled confessions. a list of posts loaded, the oldest ones stretching back to the beginning of last year. against his better judgment, he clicked the most recent entries.

i tried it again tonight. used my fingers since the new toys i got don’t really feel good either. i think my boyfriend’s starting to suspect something. it’s kinda weird that i barely get wet when he touches me (╥_╥) we even try watching porn together, but it does nothing for me. we just scroll through hundreds of videos and i feel nothing, while he gets hard so easily. so i end up sucking him off.

jeno’s brows lifted. jesus.

i get more turned on looking at pictures of LJN. but i can’t touch myself to him… it feels wrong. so i gotta find an alternative. any tips? (>д<)

LJN?

his lips parted. those were initials. your boyfriend’s? no… his.

L. J. N.

lee jeno.

his pulse jumped. before he could think better of it, his fingers typed LJN into the blog’s search bar.

hundreds of posts popped up.

he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

no fucking way.

today LJN helped me with my homework. he looked like he hated every second of it. it was hard to focus when he sat so close… his cologne makes me feel so… hot (/ω＼).

jeno dragged a hand down his face. he’s not imagining all this? right?

my boyfriend and i broke up again (kinda) (μ_μ). same reason as always… our sex life sucks. he thinks i’m not into him, but that’s not true. he tries… i just… anyway, LJN knocked on my door today. he was only wearing a towel. i almost dropped to my knees right there and then. how does someone get abs like that? god, those arms… veiny and strong… maybe i should call my boyfriend and try again…

a slow smirk stretched across jeno’s lips. so your boyfriend can’t get you off, but i make you wet that easily? he thought.

his gaze drifted to your bed. the sheets were a tangled mess, barely clinging to the mattress. did you write that post after touching yourself last night? thinking about him?

he exhaled through his nose, head shaking like he couldn’t believe it. but god, his stomach clenched at the thought of you squirming with his name in your head.

sure, he knew people found him attractive. girls threw themselves at him all the time. but you? who argued with him over stupid shit, called him an asshole just this morning while throwing a sock at his head?

you wanted him. wanted him so bad you spilled it online for strangers to read.

his gaze flicked back to the screen, to the words where you described his cologne driving you crazy.

he should’ve stopped reading but instead, he clicked on another post.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next morning, you woke up to find your laptop working perfectly. no note, no sarcastic comment scribbled on a post-it, nothing. just fixed.

weird.

you headed downstairs, fully expecting jeno to be in his usual morning mood, grumbling about chores, throwing half-hearted jabs just to rile you up. but when you found him on the couch, he was… quiet.

"hey," you said, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "so… thanks for fixing my laptop."

he barely glanced up, his gaze flickering over your bare legs for a heartbeat before settling back on his phone.

"yeah, no problem."

...that’s it?

you waited. no snark about your messy folders? no whining about how you owed him now?

your brows knit. "you okay?"

jeno stretched his legs, shorts riding up just enough to show more of his muscular thighs. "yeah, why wouldn’t i be?"

"i dunno," you said, eyeing him. "you’re acting weird."

he chuckled, head tilting as he shot you a lazy grin. "i’m always like this in the mornings. maybe you just don’t pay enough attention to me."

"trust me," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink, "i pay plenty of attention to you."

jeno’s lips twitched almost into a smirk.

then he hummed.

"yeah, i know."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next few days, jeno turned it over in his mind—how to play this.

sure, the whole thing was entertaining, but you were still his stepsister. technically. your parents weren’t married, but they’d been together for about four years, and you’d been living under the same roof since last year.

not that you and jeno were close. you barely crossed paths, always out with friends or holed up in your room when you were home. plus, he found you immature. spoiled. maybe it was the three-year age gap, or maybe it was how quickly you’d settled in and made this place your own. his dad had asked him to be patient with you—“it’s a big change for her”—but if you were struggling, you hid it well.

especially with how you put on that perfect little act for your parents. sweet and responsible. as if you weren’t sneaking your boyfriend in through the window at night. or slipping out when you thought no one noticed. jeno noticed.

he just never cared enough to call you out. but the hypocrisy definitely grated on him. pretending to be miss goody-two-shoes when, by your own confession, you were getting railed by a guy who couldn’t even get you off?

the irony wasn’t lost on him. neither was the opportunity.

he could confront you. he’d definitely enjoy to watch you squirm, see that spark of defiance flicker into panic. tempting.

but maybe… maybe he’d keep this to himself a little longer.

drag it out and see just how much fun he could have before you caught on.

the perfect opportunity presented itself only a few days later when your parents announced their trip to italy for valentine’s day. conveniently their anniversary was also coming up, so they’d be gone for two whole weeks.

“we’ll be back next sunday,” jeno’s dad said, ruffling your hair. “don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

you rolled your eyes, half-smiling, but then his tone shifted as he turned to jeno.

“jeno, take care of her. don’t let her get into any trouble. no parties or anything reckless.”

jeno nodded without a word, eyes flicking toward you before he turned back to your dad with a forced grin. “got it.”

you mom stepped forward, kissing your cheek, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer. “be good, okay? we’re trusting you.” her gaze softened but held an unmistakable warning beneath it.

you knew exactly why. after all, it wasn’t like you had a spotless record. just three months ago, you had come home drunk after sneaking out to a friend’s party. what was supposed to be "just a few drinks" had turned into you singing on top of the table and someone posting it to their story. your parents found out the next morning, thanks to your neighbor, of all people, who’d seen the video. it hadn’t even been that scandalous, except for the fact that you were obviously drunk and under 21 at the time.

the hangover was bad, but the lecture was worse. "you’re lucky jeno was there to drag you home," your mom had said, shooting you a disappointed look. jeno had played the responsible older kid that night, carrying you out before things got worse. but that didn’t stop your parents from being more protective now. especially of you.

still, it annoyed you that all the warnings were directed your way while jeno stood there looking like a saint, when you knew he was anything but. sure, he hadn’t gotten wasted like you, but he was at the same party smoking weed on the back porch, making out with some girl whose name he probably didn’t even know, and encouraging shots like he was the party host. he was just lucky none of that was caught on camera, unlike you.

when the front door closed behind them, a strange silence settled over the house. you watched through the window as they loaded their luggage into the car and drove off. two weeks alone with jeno. what could possibly go wrong?

“guess it’s just us now,” you muttered.

jeno’s lips twitched into a small smile. "looks like it."

his gaze flickered over your body while you were distracted. this will be so much fun, he thought.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the house felt bigger without your parents around. normally, you’d take full advantage by inviting friends over, staying out late, and enjoying in the freedom. but something about being alone with jeno had you on edge.

not uncomfortable, just… wary.

he’d been acting strange lately. not openly, but enough that you noticed. it was in the way he looked at you now, like he knew something you didn’t.

you were scrolling through your phone in the kitchen that night when he strolled in.

"big plans while they’re gone?" he asked, pulling open the fridge.

"nothing crazy," you said, thumb still flicking at your screen. "just enjoying the peace and quiet."

he let out a low hum, the kind that sounded like he was holding back a laugh. "right. because you’re such a quiet, well-behaved girl."

your scrolling stopped. your gaze snapped up to him. "where’s that coming from?"

jeno didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer reaching past you for a glass in the cabinet overhead. the movement brought him close enough that his cologne hit you warm, musky, annoyingly good.

"you know," he murmured, voice just above a whisper, "you might fool them. but not me."

your heart skipped. "i have no idea what you’re talking about."

he dipped his head slightly, eyes flickering to your cleavage.

"sure you don’t."

then he was gone, leaving you in the kitchen with your pulse pounding and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

the weekend arrived quicker than expected, and despite jeno’s weirdness lately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

until saturday.

jeno was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. his gaze drifted up just as you wandered into the living room, barefoot and still in your sleepwear—a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass. you didn’t even glance his way, too focused on your phone as you padded toward the kitchen.

it was almost funny, how careless you were around him. clueless, really.

jeno bit back a smirk.

"you’re up early," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced over your shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl. "uh… yeah?"

he shrugged. "figured you’d be catching up on sleep after sneaking out last night."

your hand faltered for half a second. it was subtle but enough for him to notice.

his grin widened as he leaned back against the couch cushions, arms draping lazily over the backrest. "right."

you set the cereal down with a little more force than necessary and turned to face him, arms crossed. "okay, what’s going on with you?”

"me?" he feigned innocence, eyebrows raising. "nothing, just making conversation."

your eyes narrowed, studying him. when he offered nothing else, you scoffed and turned back to the counter, muttering under your breath.

he’d never cared before. never commented on where you went or what you did. why was he suddenly so interested in you?

jeno used to treat you like background noise, a mild inconvenience at worst. now his gaze lingered longer whenever you walked into the room, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin prickle in ways you didn’t want to think about.

later that evening, you curled up on the couch with your laptop, half-heartedly scrolling through an assignment you had no intention of finishing. jeno sat across from you, phone in hand, occasionally flicking through something with the tv playing low in the background. it was peaceful enough… until he spoke.

"you know…" he stretched, shirt riding up just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers. "your boyfriend kinda sucks."

your fingers froze mid-typing.

"what?" you asked, tone clipped. you didn’t look up, but your jaw tightened on instinct.

he hummed, "if i were sneaking out every night, i’d hope it was worth it."

you shut the laptop with a snap. "why do you even care?"

jeno grinned, clearly satisfied that he’d gotten under your skin. "i don’t."

you stood abruptly, blood buzzing with irritation. "whatever. i’m going to bed."

he chuckled under his breath as you turned to leave, but the sound grated on you. it echoed in your head as you stalked halfway down the hall before…no. screw that.

you spun on your heel, storming back into the living room. "you don’t know shit," you bit out.

jeno glanced up, unconcerned. "about what?"

"me. my boyfriend."

that finally got his full attention. he set his phone down and tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "oh, you mean the boyfriend who keeps getting dumped and crawling back like a stray?"

your nostrils flared. "fuck you."

"i’m just saying—"

"no, you’re not ‘just saying’ anything," you cut him off, stepping closer. "you think you know everything about me just because we share a roof?"

"you’d be surprised," he shot back, annoyingly calm.

your fists clenched. "you don’t know what i need. so stop acting like you do."

for a split second, something flickered in his expression, gone too fast to name. then his usual smirk slid back into place.

"i don’t need to know what you need." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "i already know what you want."

your breath hitched. you hated that, hated the way your pulse jumped at his words, at the confidence in his voice. what the hell did that even mean?

"you’re an asshole," you snapped. "i don’t owe you an explanation."

jeno nodded, like he agreed. "then why are you still standing here?"

your face burned with frustration, but you bit your tongue. there was nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse. so you did the next best thing, you turned on your heel and walked away, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

and yet, lying in bed later, the back of your mind replayed his words on a loop. you still felt like you’d lost.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

hours passed and you were still pissed.

your whole body ached with it, hot and restless, like something crawling under your skin. jeno’s words sunk in deep, wrapping around you like barbed wire, too sharp, too true.

‘your boyfriend kinda sucks’ his voice rang in your ears.

no, your boyfriend was nearly perfect. he had all the right looks, the right voice, the right everything and yet… somehow, even after months of trying, of letting him touch you, of trying to want it��

you never got turned on with him. not the way you were now after a simple argument with jeno.

your hand moved before you could think, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts, finding that sticky warmth between your thighs. a shaky breath left you, head tipping back against the pillows. it wasn’t enough. god, it wasn’t nearly enough. you needed—fuck, you didn’t even know what you needed. just more. something to fill the ache, to drown out the way his voice echoed in your head. i don’t need to know what you need. i already know what you want.

stop.

you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to picture your boyfriend, to think about the way he kissed you, the way he whispered your name, the way he touched you.

but your body rejected it. the images blurred, twisted, morphed.

and suddenly it wasn’t his hands you were thinking about.

It was jeno’s slender fingers.

your fingertips grazed that sensitive spot, slick and throbbing, pulling a broken sound from your lips. your hips rolled up into your hand, chasing any semblance of relief. you let out a quiet, shuddering breath as your stomach clenched, your pulse kicking up as you fought it, fought him, fought the way his image took over.

but it was useless.

your body didn’t listen. it latched onto the memory of him. the way his pretty lips curled right before he was about to say something you knew would piss you off, the way his voice dipped when he was toying with you, the way his hands always fidgeted, tapping against his thigh, against his lips, always doing something.

your lips parted as your fingers moved faster, your other hand slid up your stomach, pushing up your shirt as your breath stuttered.

would he keep his rings on while touching you?

the thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through you, your body tightening, the wetness between your thighs growing slicker.

you imagined his long fingers and the coolness of the rings against your skin. would he drag them over your stomach, trace your thighs, tease you with them first? or would he shove them inside right away?

you bit your lip, your fingers pressing down harder, teasing yourself the way he would, the way he might if he ever—

a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “jeno…”

outside your door, jeno’s world fucking stopped. his body was tight, his breath stuck in his throat as he pressed himself against the wood.

he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be standing outside your room, shouldn’t be looking through the small crack where the door hadn’t shut all the way.

but fuck.

fuck, you were so loud. did you even realize?

did you know how needy you sounded? the way your voice cracked, the way your breathing hitched, the way you whimpered when you…

jeno exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe, trying to keep himself in check. but his mind was already too far gone. because if you were touching yourself to him, and if you were so desperate you couldn’t even keep quiet or make sure the the door was closed all the way… then maybe you wanted to get caught.

maybe you wanted him to see.

his breath came out slow and measured as he peeked through the crack, his body heating at the sight before him. the dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows over your skin, your legs spread wide, fingers buried deep inside yourself. the slick sounds of your movements, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as you moaned his name. fuck, it was too much.

he felt himself throbbing painfully against his sweats, already aching from just watching you. his cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

he pulled himself out, his fingers wrapping around the thick length, hot and pulsing in his palm. he let out a sharp breath as he started stroking himself, matching his pace to the rhythm of your fingers slipping in and out of your pretty cunt.

he wanted to be the one touching you.

he imagined it, his fingers stretching you open, pumping in and out, his thumb circling your clit until you were shaking, whimpering against his mouth. would you let him fuck you raw the first time? god, you’d feel so good around him, so tight, clenching down on him like you never wanted him to pull out. he let out a quiet groan, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noise, even though part of him wanted you to hear him, wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him.

your moans were getting louder, your breaths coming faster, more frantic. you were close, he could tell, your body was begging for release, and he wished, more than anything, that he could be the one to push you over the edge.

he knew that no one else could make you feel like this. not even your boyfriend, the one you pretended was enough for you. that idiot had the privilege of touching you, of being inside you, and still you weren’t getting off on thoughts of him. no, it was jeno’s name spilling from your lips as you fucked yourself.

his hand tightened around his cock, his strokes quickening. "cum for me, baby," he whispered under his breath, his forehead pressing harder against the doorframe.

maybe you heard him, maybe you didn’t, but your moans pitched higher, your fingers moving faster, your body trembling on the other side of the door. fuck—you were close, so fucking close, and he was right there with you. his jaw went slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants as the pleasure slammed into him, hot and heavy. his cock pulsed, his body shaking, cum spilling over his fingers in thick streaks as he saw you falling apart in your bed at the same time.

his body tensed, every nerve sparking as he milked himself through the high, swallowing back the urge to moan out your name. he barely had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his sweats before he started dripping onto the carpet. that would’ve been a dead giveaway. but even as he came down from it, the heat in his chest didn’t fade. because now he knew just how badly you wanted him.

and he wasn’t going to just let it go.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

so, he was back outside your room the following night.

your door was closed all the way this time. he swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, testing it. it turned just a fraction before stopping. it was locked. he expected this. he had the feeling you suspected he’d seen you or at least heard you last night because you were unusually fidgety around him earlier today.

he exhaled slowly, lowering himself down until his face was level with the keyhole, his breath shallow as he listened. the obscene sounds of your fingers working between your thighs were unmistakable, each wet stroke sending another pulse of heat straight to his cock. he knew you were thinking about him again. your boyfriend wasn’t here, who the fuck else would you be touching yourself to?

he let his hand trail down, palming himself over his sweats, but this time, it wasn’t enough. he needed more.

his fingers drifted down to his pocket, curling around the small, thin tool he’d stolen from mark’s junk drawer earlier. jeno wasn’t an idiot, he knew to be prepared this time. hearing wouldn’t do it for him, he needed to see you again.

he slid the tool into the keyhole, his other hand steadying the knob as he worked it. it wasn’t his first time picking a lock. he’d done it plenty of times as a teen, sneaking into forbidden rooms at school, usually to make out with random girls. but this was different. he was breaking into his stepsister’s room so he could watch her touch herself. his hands itched, his whole body thrumming with a dangerous kind of thrill.

the lock gave a quiet click and he held his breath trying to listen for any indication that you noticed. after he thought it was safe, he twisted the handle and pushed the door just enough to crack it open.

and fuck, what a sight it was.

you were sprawled on your bed, your legs were in a butterfly position this time, your skin glistening with sweat. your shirt was hiked up all the way giving him the perfect sight of your tits. your panties were pushed down completely and he could see the way your fingers disappeared inside you. his name started slipping from your lips again, breathy, ruined. he clenched his jaw, his cock started to throb painfully at the sight.

you were so fucking beautiful like this. needy, desperate, chasing a high that only he could truly give you.

he licked his lips, watching the way your back arched, your fingers curling inside you as you edged yourself closer. his own hand slipped into his sweats, wrapping around his length, stroking slow, lazy, savoring the moment. he should leave. should close the door and pretend this never happened. but instead, he kept watching, his lips parting in a silent exhale as he imagined once again what it would be like to replace your fingers with his own.

or better yet, his cock.

you had no idea he was here. no idea you were putting on a show just for him.

there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

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you’d been locking your door more often now. you weren’t sure why. it didn’t make sense, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. the feeling that you were being watched.

maybe it was the fact that you thought you heard a moan outside your door the other night. or maybe the fact that your panties had mysteriously gone missing from the laundry basket. and there was only one other person living with you at the moment. you tried to tell yourself it was paranoia. after all, why would jeno do something like that? he didn’t have fantasies like you, right?

still, something felt different when he was around. especially when you bumped into him in the kitchen or living room. the tension was so thick as if the space between you was charged, waiting for something, or someone, to cross the line.

you tried to distract yourself, flicking through jersey shore reruns with half your mind still on him. but as soon as you heard footsteps approaching, your pulse spiked. your body clearly not knowing the difference between riding a roller coaster, and your stepbrother entering the room.

you glanced up, trying to force a bored expression. the moment your eyes landed on him, however, everything in you froze. his damp hair stuck to his forehead, a towel draped loosely around his neck. his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his boxers peeking, and the way his white shirt clung to his chest made it feel like the room was closing in around you.

you swallowed hard.

he caught your gaze, and for a split second, it felt like he saw right through you. like he knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling. but he didn’t say anything. he just walked over, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours. the space between you was so small, but it felt like a chasm, a void that you couldn’t bridge. you couldn’t move. not when your body was so painfully aware of him.

“you like this trash?” his voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. they were on you, studying you.

you blinked, the question throwing you off guard. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about the show until he nodded toward it. “uh... yeah. it’s... entertaining,” you stammered, your voice sounding foreign in your own ears. you wanted to say more, to defend it, but the words wouldn’t come. your mind was fixated on him.

you tried to focus on the screen, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. his towel slipping from his shoulders, water droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel that familiar flutter in your lower stomach.

your fingers twitched, desperate to do something, anything, to alleviate the tightness.

jeno tilted his head slightly, his lips pulling into that almost imperceptible smirk, the one that made you want to either scream or crawl into him.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous underneath. “you look tense.”

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you shifted uncomfortably, your pulse hammering in your ears. he didn’t push, but the way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he had you cornered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you shot up from the couch like you’d been electrocuted. your pulse was still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots you didn’t want to acknowledge. this was good. maybe whoever was at the door would shake you out of this haze.

but the second you opened it, you almost wished you hadn’t.

your boyfriend…or ex? you didn’t even know anymore, stood there holding a single rose in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“happy valentine’s day,” he greeted, flashing that charming smile he knew melted you.

your eyes widened. you’d been so distracted you totally forgot the date. damn you, lee jeno.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call in advance,” he pushed the rose into your hand and leaned to kiss you “and i know we agreed to take a break… still, i couldn't just not come today…”

he lifted the bag on his other hand. “movie?”

you forced a smile, your stomach twisting guiltily for a second. even though your relationship was a bit unstable as of late, valentine’s wasn’t something you ever wanted to half-ass so it was a good thing you’d planned ahead.

you bought his gift the previous week, carefully wrapping the box yourself because you wanted it to feel special. a pair of shoes he’d been eyeing for months, a new band for his apple watch since his favorite one had broken recently, and a handwritten letter tucked inside, detailing how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. You even spent extra time decorating the envelope, adding little doodles and stickers just to make him smile.

you should've felt some kind of relief, his presence should distract you from the wild thoughts swirling in your head. but as you stepped aside to let him in, that sense of relief never came.

because the moment you turned back, you remembered jeno was still there on the couch. you silently willed him with your mind to go to his room, maybe leave altogether.

but of course he didn’t.

“oh. hey, dude” your boyfriend said as he finally noticed him. “didn’t know your brother was here.”

you winced. that word. brother. your tongue itched to correct him, but what was the point? he knew you weren’t really siblings. he just chose to say it anyway.

jeno let the word hang in the air before he finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head before settling into a straighter posture. he never stood that straight, but he was making sure to show that he was at least two inches taller than your boyfriend. It was a subtle move, but you saw it for what it was. a challenge.

you almost scoffed at the sheer pettiness of it.

“ah, hello…” jeno drawled. “sorry, remind me of your name again?”

your boyfriend told him, his tone polite but slightly stiff.

“right,” jeno said, half-smiling. “didn’t know we’d be having visitors today…”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “ah, that’s my bad. i didn’t tell her I was coming since I wanted to surprise her for Valentine’s”

“hm,” Jeno hummed. “well... as long as you two keep it in the living room, should be fine. gotta look out for my little sister while the parents are out, you know?”

you squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, inhaling slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. he never called you that. also, who did he think he was playing house police all of a sudden?

“sit down, babe,” you said, your tone so sweet it sounded forced.

jeno scoffed under his breath, soft enough that only you heard it.

you ignored it, settling onto the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. your boyfriend sat beside you, oblivious, scrolling through movies, while you shoved a chip into your mouth just to distract your mind.

suddenly, you heard clattering from the kitchen followed by a curse.

“uh, y/n… can you come help me real quick?”

you squeezed your eyes shut.

“what did you break now?” you called, already exasperated.

"your mom’s china," he called back. "think i broke like two plates. maybe three. hard to say. pretty sure she’ll notice, though."

shit. you were on your feet before you could think, muttering a quick, “sorry, i’ll be right back,” as you hurried toward the kitchen.

the moment you stepped inside, irritation flared hotter in your chest.

“are you kidding me? what were you even doing near those? my mom explicitly said—” you voiced trailed off when you saw there was no broken china. no mess. nothing.

just jeno, standing there with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk so infuriating you wanted to slap it off his face.

your hands curled into fists. “what are you doing?”

“really?” he ignored your glare, tilting his head mockingly. “he brought snacks and a single rose?” he let out a dry chuckle. “it’s valentine’s day for god’s sake, he could’ve at least tried.”

“i like simple things,” you shot back. “i don’t need a big fucking production”

jeno took a step closer making your breath get stuck in your throat. he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even crowding you, but fuck he might as well have been, with the way your body tensed.

his voice dropped lower. “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

he clearly wanted to get a reaction out of you and you refused to give it to him.

his gaze flicked down to your lips, pursed at him, and yet so pretty. he could still remember them parting and gasping his name last night.

"bet it gets tiring to pretend so much” he leaned in slightly.

you took a sharp step back.

“just… get out of my business,” you snapped, breath uneven.

jeno’s lips curled. “sure thing.” his eyes glinted with dark amusement. “hope you have fun with mr. buzzkill.”

your jaw clenched as you spun on your heel, storming back to the living room. who the hell did he think he was? since when did he have an opinion on your love life? he’d never cared before, never questioned, never even acknowledged it. so why now?

he kept pushing, prodding, playing with you.

and the worst part was that you were letting him. you knew you should ignore him. his opinion didn’t matter anyways.

so why couldn’t you stop paying attention to him?

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you decided to push jeno out of your mind, and what better way than by surrounding yourself with people you actually liked?

a pool party seemed like the perfect distraction. it was nothing too crazy, just a few close friends from college. the weather had been unusually nice all week, the kind of warmth that made everything feel a little hazy, the sun kissing your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounge chair, still damp from your swim. it was the perfect excuse to bask in the sun, let the tension ease from your body, and pretend jeno didn’t exist.

jenny, lying beside you on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and let out an exaggerated sigh. “by the way, where’s your hot brother?”

you sighed, not even bothering to open your eyes. “stop calling him that. people might actually think i'm related to that jerk.”

“honestly, though,” natty chimed in, rubbing tanning oil on her arms. “how have you not jumped his bones yet? he’s so fine.”

you scoffed, finally cracking an eye open to glare at her. “he’s really not all that. if you guys lived with him, you wouldn’t think like this.”

jenny turned onto her side, her smirk downright sinful. “girl, if i lived with him i'd let him do unspeakable things to me every night.”

you fingers tightened around your drink as something hot and unwanted curled low in your stomach. if only they knew the things you did thinking about him late at night.

belle made a face from where she sat at the edge of the pool. “you guys are gross.”

jenny just shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “why? they’re not even related.”

belle wrinkled her nose. “yes, but they live together. it’s still weird.”

jenny hummed, resting her chin on her shoulder as she eyed you knowingly. “whatever, i meant what i said.”

“does he have a girlfriend?” natty asked, stretching her legs out as she adjusted her sunglasses.

you shrugged, taking another sip of your piña colada. “i don’t know. i mean, he barely leaves the house. i doubt he has much of a social life… probably the most socially inept guy i’ve ever met.” the words left your mouth lazily, but the moment they did, a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the sun.

you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

you tilted your head back after a few seconds of silently cursing your big mouth. your heart did a million backflips as you locked eyes with jeno, who was now standing directly behind your chair. his head was tilted just slightly, a slow smirk playing at his lips.

you gulped slowly, and wished the chair would just swallow you whole. did he hear what you just said?

his gaze flickered over you, amused, but there was something heavier in the way his eyes traced over your bikini-clad figure. and then you realized he wasn’t in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. instead, he wore a fitted jean jacket over a graphic tee from a band you didn’t recognize, paired with tight black jeans. even his hair was styled, it looked like he got a fresh undercut, even added some designs on the side. he felt like an entirely different person. he looked good. too good.

“hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice deep.

your friends giggled, but you barely registered them because jeno’s attention was back on you in a second.

“does dad know you’re having a party?” he asked, his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but there was something slightly patronizing underneath.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s just a few people.” get off my ass, you almost added but bit your tongue.

his smirk didn’t falter. “mhm… hope so, ‘cause he can see everything through those.” he pointed toward the security cameras, and something about the way he said it made irritation prickle at your skin.

he had the audacity to call your boyfriend a buzzkill, yet here he was, trying to kill any potential fun you could have.

“anyway,” he continued, “this socially inept guy is heading out.”

you breath caught in your throat. so he did hear you.

his eyes flickered over your body once more, and before you could respond, his hand brushed over your shoulder in a touch so fleeting, so meaningless, it shouldn’t have made your entire body lock up the way it did.

“call me if there’s an emergency,” he said. “be good, yeah?”

the second he was out of earshot, the giggles started back up, hushed and scandalized. your skin still burned where his touch had ghosted over you, and you hated that you wanted to turn your head, watch him leave, memorize the way he looked just now.

you swallowed hard, pressing your cold glass against your lips and forcing yourself to pretend that none of it affected you.

after several minutes of listening to your friends gush about jeno, how good he looked, how he smelled like expensive cologne, blah blah blah, you decided you’d had enough. you pushed yourself up from the lounge chair and made your way inside with the excuse of refilling your drink.

as you passed through the living room, a flicker of movement outside caught your eye. jeno was still there, standing near the edge of the sidewalk. his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving something small, and curiosity got the better of you. you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding.

despite knowing better, you grabbed a lightweight cover-up dress from the hook by the door and slipped it over your shoulders before stepping outside. the afternoon air carried the scent of chlorine and the faintest trace of citrus from the trees lining the house.

“since when do you smoke?” you asked, approaching him cautiously.

jeno turned his head slightly. the corner of his lips curled in that maddening way of his. without breaking eye contact, he placed the cigarette between his lips, the unlit end resting against the soft curve of his mouth.

“i don’t,” he said dismissively but then, he struck a match against his finger and the tiny flame came to life. the sight of it held your attention for just a second too long. probably because you’d never seen anyone light a match like that, or the fact that he was gaslighting you so casually.

“i thought you said you were going to hang out with friends,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you watched the flame kiss the tip of the cigarette.

“i said i was going to hang out,” he corrected, taking a slow drag before exhaling it in your direction, the smoke curling between you. “i didn't say with friends.”

you barely resisted the urge to cough, your throat tightening at the thick scent of tobacco. before you could call him out on this, the low rumble of an engine broke through the silence.

a black jeep screeched to a stop at the foot of your driveway, tires skidding slightly against the pavement. you instinctively took a step back as the vehicle came to a jarring halt. the tinted window rolled down, revealing a girl with jet-black hair that framed her face in glossy waves. he lips, painted a deep cherry red, curved into a smile that was just a little too perfect.

“sorry, i’m late!” she said, her voice airy, with a sing-song quality that immediately set your teeth on edge “there was so much traffic.”

“sure you didn’t just get pulled over for reckless driving?” jeno chuckled before taking another slow drag from his cigarette.

“mo, silly!” she giggled, her voice turning annoyingly flirtatious as she leaned a little closer over the window. “did you doll up just for me?”

“sure,” jeno replied casually. you didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked to you for just a split second because you were busy trying to mask the seething annoyance that was threatening to show in your expression. you didn’t even know this girl, and yet, the way she was acting was irritating you deeply.

“let me drive,” jeno said, pulling the door open for her to step out. you noticed the way she purposely wobbled slightly to fall directly into his arms.

“careful,” he said, his voice deep and resonant as he steadied her, the sound of it sending a heavy vibration through your chest.

“if your wet blanket of a boyfriend shows up later,” he continued once inside the car, his words laced with a hint of condescension, “just try not to fuck around in the pool, okay? remember, someone’s always watching.” the way he said that left a strange, uneasy knot in your stomach, the implication of his words lingering far too long.

before you could even muster a response, he slammed the jeep into gear and drove off.

it was around 9 pm when you decided to call it a night. your boyfriend hadn’t even shown up. he claimed he had to help his dad with “stuff” but you hadn’t really paid attention to the details. you weren’t interested in hearing excuses anyway.

your friends pouted, complaining that you should let them stay and have a sleepover, but you weren’t in the mood. they only left after you promised to do it another time.

you wandered upstairs, feeling the fatigue from the evening settle in your bones. the water from the shower was almost too hot, but you welcomed the burn as it stripped the chlorine from your skin. you lingered under the steam, savoring the quiet of the house.

once you were done, you meticulously moisturized your skin with extra attention to the dryness that clung to your arms after the pool and the heat of the shower. you threw on your usual pjs, a loose tank top and shorts. you thought of the way jeno’s dark eyes followed you whenever you wore them.

you made your way to the living room and sank onto the couch to watch tv, hyper aware of the ticking sound of the clock. the hands crept closer to 11 p.m. and you found your thoughts drifting despite your best attempts to focus. jeno’s face floated into your mind, his dark eyes flickering with amusement whenever he saw you. you tried to push it away but your mind kept returning to him and that girl with jet-black hair.

the sting of your nails digging into the palsn of your hands is what snapped you out of it. the thought of him with her… doing what? it didn’t even matter. why should it matter?

you decided to go to bed after realizing it was stupid to wait for him to come back.

it was around 2 am when you were jerked awake by the sound of shuffling outside your door. you heard a giggle followed by a hushed voice right before your door creaked open, and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again.

"shit, wrong room," you heard jeno whisper, and your breath caught in your throat. you opened one eye just enough to see him standing in the doorway, the girl with jet-black hair practically draped around his neck.

she pulled him down into a kiss, and you watched, frozen, as they made out right there in front of your door. her soft moans echoed through the space along with the sounds of their hands fondling each other’s bodies.

they continued, oblivious to the fact that you were very much awake, until jeno finally pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the noises just enough for you to breathe again.

the anger hit you immediately, and the indignation that followed was almost comical in its intensity. with what face had he told you not to "mess around" at home because your parents were always watching, only to go and do this? right in front of your room, no less?

you heard the shuffle of movement in his room next door, and a chilling realization sank in.

they were about to have sex, and you’d hear every damn second of it.

it wasn’t like you’d never snuck your boyfriend in late at night before. But all you ever did was suck him off or let him finger you. you never actually had proper sex. not for lack of trying, but rather the issues you’d been having getting… aroused with him.

the moans started, soft at first, then louder. each sound felt like a needle, digging deeper into the pit of your stomach. you squeezed your eyes shut again, wishing, begging to be anywhere but within earshot of the noise that now felt like it was tearing your insides apart.

you could hear everything. the soft thuds of their clothes hitting the floor, the creak of the mattress as they fell onto it. jeno’s rough groans, the breathless whimpers he tried and failed to suppress. the wet, obscene sounds of him moving inside her. the desperate gasps, the frantic whisper of his name from her lips. their mouths meeting over and over again, the muffled, needy sounds of them colliding filling the space.

every movement, every noise, was painfully clear, as if you were right there in the room with them.

you wanted to disappear. crawl under your bed. evaporate into the walls. oh, the walls. the godforsaken, paper-thin walls that some sadistic architect clearly designed just to ruin your life.

you pressed a pillow over your head, begging for the sounds to stop, but it was useless. they only grew louder.

“jeno… i’m close,” she whimpered, voice high and shaking.

“cum for me…” he responded, breathless.

and suddenly, amidst the debauchery of sounds, you heard it.

your name.

spoken in a broken moan.

your breath stilled. for a second, you thought you must have imagined it, that your mind was playing a cruel trick on you. but then—

you heard it again. louder. needier.

jeno was calling your name as he came.

a paralyzing shock shot through you, pinning you to the mattress. your pulse hammering so hard you thought your heart might bruise your chest cavity. you stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as his moans settled over you like a suffocating weight.

silence followed, broken only by their uneven breaths. then you heard the rustle of sheets as they untangled from each other.

“can i stay the night?” the girl asked, her voice still heavy with satisfaction.

“no,” jeno said, voice oddly cold and detached. “my parents are gonna be here in the morning.”

that was a lie. your parents weren’t coming back until the following weekend.

you were still too shocked to move, too shaken to process what had just happened. but as you listened to her gather her things, to the sound of jeno walking her to the door without so much as an ounce of warmth in his tone, one thing became terrifyingly clear...

he hadn’t just used her. he’d been thinking about you while doing so.

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you didn’t sleep. not for a single minute.

the shadows in your room shifted as the hours crawled by. it felt impossible to close your eyes without hearing it all over again. your name on his lips.

when your phone screen finally read 6:00 a.m, you gave up on sleep entirely, throwing off the sheets and slipping out of bed like a ghost.

you tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, fingers numb as you grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. the cold water slid down your throat in greedy gulps, but it did nothing to cool yourself.

then, a breathless laugh tore from your lips, unhinged and bitter. the sheer absurdity of it all crashed into you at once, like a sick joke the universe decided to play on you. jeno had been inside another girl, and yet, it was your name that spilled out of his lips.

the laughter bubbled up harder. it must have been loud enough to wake him, because a few moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen.

jeno stood in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, brows pinched together as he took in the sight of you, your back was turned to him, shoulders trembling with laughter that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“the hell is wrong with you?” his voice was groggy.

you stopped, forcing the manic grin off your face before turning slightly away, shielding yourself from his scrutiny. god, if he saw the way you were smiling right now, he really would think you lost your mind.

“are you high?” he asked, a little more forcefully this time.

you let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. i wish. maybe if you were high, this wouldn’t feel so real. maybe you wouldn’t still hear his voice in your head from the night before, broken and desperate, calling for you.

a shiver ran down your spine when you felt jeno move closer behind you. you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, the faint smell of sleep and last night’s scent clinging to him. his hand clamped down on your shoulder, turning you around with an impatient tug.

“no, seriously.” his voice was lower now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “did you do drugs last night?”

your breath hitched when his chest brushed against yours, and that’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. the thin fabric of your tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples hardened at the contact.

you saw the flicker in his expression, the brief second of realization when his gaze dropped.

“what do you care?” you shot back instead, tilting your chin up defiantly.

you liked the way his jaw ticked when you pushed him.

his grip on your chin was sudden, firm, tilting your face until your eyes locked with his. his fingers were rough and the touch sent something dark and electric crackling under your skin.

you ripped yourself from his grasp, grimacing. “don’t touch me. i know where that hand has been.”

jeno laughed, a rich sound that made your throat close.

“oh, so you heard.”

you scoffed. “of course i heard. it was impossible not to when you were being so loud.”

his smirk deepened. “then you know my struggle.”

he stepped forward, pressed you further against the counter until there was barely any air between your bodies. this was the closest you had ever been to him.

your heart slammed against your ribs, but you refused to shrink away. if anything, it only made you glare harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“i hear everything you do in your room too.”

he paused, letting his finger curl around a stray hair falling over your face.

“every night.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out except a sharp inhale.

his eyes fluttered across your features, lingering on your lips, still wet from the water you just drank.

“wh-what…”

“yeah.” his grin grew sharper, his perfect teeth peeking out to tug at his lower lip. “every time you sneak your dumbass boyfriend in.”

his fingers brushed against the counter beside you, caging you in completely.

“every time you touch yourself…”

you swallowed, looking between his neck and shoulder, unable to meet his dark eyes.

“and you do that a lot lately.”

you gulped to soothe your dry throat, wishing he couldn’t somehow smell how aroused you were getting. you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your thighs pressed together on instinct. he noticed. the bastard always noticed everything.

he was still pressed so close you could feel the steady rise and fall of his hard chest against yours, the heat of his skin bleeding into yours like fire licking at gasoline.

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked.

jeno tilted his head, “what?” his voice was a murmur meant for just the two of you. his lips curved, but the smile wasn’t kind, it was wicked. “got nothing to say now?”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your stomach twisted into knots. “fuck you.”

his smile widened. “i mean, that’s what you always think about, isn’t it?” he murmured.

your breath caught in your throat. he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that you felt the ghost of them graze your skin.

“you touch yourself thinking about me.”

a wave of heat crawled up your neck. you shouldn’t be reacting this way. shouldn’t be giving yourself away this easily.

you inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength left in your body before shoving at his chest, pushing him away. he let you, barely stumbling back.

“go to hell, jeno.”

you turned on your heel, ready to storm out, to get as far away from him as possible—

but you barely made it two steps before his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. he yanked you back against him, spinning you around so fast that you barely had time to register the shift before your back was against the counter again, his body crowding yours.

his grip tightened, but not enough to hurt just enough to hold you there.

"what are you doing?" you demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. "i have a boyfriend."

he laughed bitterly "oh, please. we both know he doesn’t even make you wet."

“how do you—?” you swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

the realization suddenly settled like lead in your gut. he read it. your blog. the one you used to vent frustrations you couldn’t say out loud, the one that held every unspoken insecurity, every late-night confession you never meant for anyone to see. every filthy thought about him.

and jeno of all people had gotten his hands on it. that’s why he’d been acting so strange lately.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling him closer, but gripping like you needed something to hold onto before you lost your mind.

his smirk deepened as he saw the expression of horror in your face.

“you should really clear your browser history,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “or, better yet…maybe don’t keep the tabs open on a laptop you asked me to fix.”

the bastard wasn’t even sorry for invading your privacy.

your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to school your expression, trying to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from spiraling.

“i don’t—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he leaned in, voice dipping lower. “oh don’t quit on me now. you had plenty to say in that little blog of yours.”

his fingers traced your jaw softly.

“especially about me.”

he grinned, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched your reaction unfold in real time. “what was it you said?” he pretended to think. “oh, right. he pisses me off more than anyone else, but i bet he fucks like a god.’”

you shoved him again but he barely stumbled, just let out a low chuckle like he was thrilled by your anger.

“what’s wrong?” he taunted. “embarrassed?”

“shut up.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be shy now. i read the whole thing, you’ve definitely thought about this exact moment before.”

you wanted to die. right there on the kitchen floor. just disintegrate and never have to endure the smug, self-satisfied look on his face ever again.

but worse than the embarrassment? worse than the rage twisting inside you like a coil ready to snap?

was the terrifying, undeniable truth.

he knew you wanted him.

jeno moved closer, and you instinctively backed into the counter, your hands gripping the cool edge.

his smirk was insufferable. giddy, almost.

“god, you should see your face right now,” he murmured, tilting his head. “all pink and flustered. just like i imagined.”

your eyes darted across his face in shock.

“oh yeah,” he continued, watching the realization flicker in your eyes. “you’re not the only one who’s fantasized about this, baby”

“i don’t fantasize,” you said quickly, hoping to salvage some dignity.

jeno just laughed. “save it.”

he reached up, tucking another stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way someone might handle something delicate, except the glint in his eye was anything but soft.

“i said i read everything,” he reminded you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “i even memorized that one post, the one where you talk about my fingers—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

bad move. because now his lips were pressed against your palm, his breath hot against your skin. and he didn’t pull away.

instead, his dark eyes locked onto yours making your pulse stutter. he reached up, prying your hand away from his mouth, but instead of letting it go, he brought it lower flat against his bare chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“i like knowing your secrets,” he murmured. “i like knowing what gets in that pretty little head of yours late at night.”

your stomach flipped.

“and you know what i like the most?” he dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “i like knowing that no matter how much you fight me on this,” he whispered, “you’ve already given yourself to me.”

his lips brushed from your ear down to the corner of your mouth, until finally, they met yours. you barely registered how easily your lips parted for him until his tongue slid in, claiming you. a groan slipped out before you could stop it.

you knew you should push him away. you should. but the thought barely even formed before it was gone, lost in the heat of his mouth.

"aren’t you gonna stop me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips.

you didn’t move, didn’t shove him away, didn’t say a damn thing.

his lips curled. "didn’t think so.”

then he kissed you harder, rougher. his fingers cradling your face while his other hand slid lower, gripping a handful of your ass. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

his knee pressed between your legs, shifting just right, and you moaned. his lips curved against yours. "there’s my good girl."

heat flared up your spine, equal parts humiliation and arousal. some semblance of reason came over you and you pushed at his chest, but he caught your wrist, pinning it against the counter.

"you wrote about how bad you wanted me to take you right here in this kitchen," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "want me to remind you?"

"shut up," you groaned, twisting your wrist free and shoving at him properly this time.

he didn’t budge. he only laughed, nipping at your lower lip before angling your face up, kissing you deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. his hand slid from your ass to your thigh, hiking it higher around his hip.

the new angle made you feel him, every inch of his hard length pressing right against your core, and you gasped. he thrust against you and the groan he let out sent a pulse of heat straight to your stomach.

"fuck," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours, his hips rolling again. "you feel that?"

your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpers spilling out of you as he kept humping you.

jeno’s grip tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked against you, his breath hot against your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “clinging to me like this when you were just pretending to hate me a few minutes ago.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to deny, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as his hands slid under your tank top, fingers tracing lazy patterns up your ribs until they found your perked nipple. his knee pressed more insistently between your legs.

“jen—”

“shh.” he breathed against your lips. “you don’t have to say anything. your body’s already telling me everything i need to know.”

the way his lips ghosted over your jaw, then down your throat, made your breath hitch. you felt like you were drowning in the way he touched you, just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you what you really wanted.

“you’ve thought about this,” he mused, voice laced with satisfaction as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “haven’t you? late at night, when you’re all alone…”

your nails dug into his shoulders as he ground against you again, harder this time. he was right. and that infuriated you.

“jeno,” you hissed, half warning, half plea.

“say it,” he murmured against your skin, hands slipping lower. “say you want me.”

you couldn’t do that. you still wanted to cling to some semblance of dignity. but then his fingers slipped inside your shorts, and the illusion that you ever stood a chance shattered.

your gasp turned into a strangled moan as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds, tracing slow circles, teasing you with featherlight strokes that had you melting against him. his breath was hot against your temple.

“if you don’t want this,” he murmured, “then maybe we should stop.”

and just like that, he started to retreat, his touch vanishing like a cruel tease.

“no,” you choked out, your hand gripping his wrist before he could pull away completely. “don’t stop… please.”

he tilted his head, savoring every ounce of your desperation. “you sure?” he mused, feigning innocence even as his lips, swollen and slick, curled into something devilish. “because if you think this is wrong, we really should stop.”

the bastard was toying with you, and worst of all, you found it maddeningly hot.

your nails dug into his arm, your body thrumming with frustration and need. “jeno,” you warned, voice dangerously low. “if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll go upstairs and do it myself.”

you saw the moment his pupils dilated, a dark, almost feral hunger flashing in his eyes.

“oh, princess,” he crooned, his hand slipping back into your shorts in an instant, fingers resuming their torment with renewed urgency. “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

but instead of touching you like you needed, he yanked your shorts down, your panties dragging along with them in one swift motion. before you could form a single word, he hoisted you onto the counter with ease, the hard surface pressing into the backs of your thighs. your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip tightened, keeping you open for him.

and then he dropped to his knees.

your stomach plummeted, anticipation coiling so tightly inside you that you felt dizzy. he looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with hunger. his hands dragged slowly up the inside of your thighs, spreading them further. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was about to devour the best meal ever.

your walls clenched around nothing.

“jeno—” his name came out in a broken gasp.

“you’re shaking,” his breath ghosted over your core, making you jolt, making you ache. "what’s wrong, baby? nervous?"

the way his voice curled around the word baby, sent a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. but you didn’t get the chance to answer.

because then he dove between your thighs.

the first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, hands flying to his hair as your head snapped back against the cabinets. the heat of his mouth had your body jerking before you could stop yourself, pleasure so intense it almost hurt.

his hands flexed against your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you still as he licked deep into you. and when he groaned you nearly lost it. the vibration shot straight through you, your stomach clenching, your thighs twitching against his grip.

“jeno—” his name was barely a breath, a desperate sound that made him hum against you, pleased. he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush over your skin.

“god, you taste even better than i imagined” he rasped.

and then he was back on you, tongue working faster, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed this, like he was getting off on the way you gasped, the way your body trembled under his mouth.

he wasn’t just eating you out. he was devouring you.

his tongue moved in slow strokes, drawing out every whimper that spilled from your lips. you tugged at his hair, grinding down harder, but he just chuckled against you. cocky bastard.

“needy, huh?” he murmured between licks. “thought you could handle it.”

you barely registered his words, too caught up in the way he worked you open. but then he pulled away, making you gasp at the loss.

“jeno—” you started to protest, but he was already grabbing you by the waist.

“quit whining,” he smirked, hoisting you up easily. you yelped, legs locking around his hips as he strode toward the stairs. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

your back hit the mattress a second later. you barely caught your breath before he tugged his pants down, the outline of his dick straining against his boxers.

jeno climbed onto the bed, gaze flicking over you with heat. you expected him to take you right then but he leaned back instead, hands behind his head.

“ride my face,” he said.

you froze, thinking he was joking for a second, but then you saw his his eyes and realized he was being completely serious. panic came over you, you’d never done this before, your boyfriend had never even eaten your out before, only fingered you. this was way more than that though.

“jeno—”

he raised a brow. “what, shy now?” his hands shot out, dragging you toward him. “c’mon, don’t start getting all sweet on me now.”

he positioned you right above his face. you swallowed, “jeno… i-i don’t know—“

“don’t worry baby, trust me”

and then he was spreading your legs further apart so you sank on his face slowly. his nose nuzzled between your folds first, the sharp line of it pushing against your core and making a guttural moan escape you.

his tongue followed, licking up and down, and prodding your entrance with insistence.

“oh, fuck—me” you whimpered, his hands on your hips guided you to press even harder against his face and even in your pleasure you worried he would drown in your cunt.

but when you looked down, there was nothing but pure bliss on his face, his eyes rolling back and his brows furrowed as he lapped relentlessly. it looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

as your orgasm approached again, you couldn’t help but roll your hips against his face. the movement made his nose press further as his tongue continued licking long greedy strips against your clit.

“jeno—i...i’m—“ you moaned,

and your orgasm crashed over you with such a violent force it made you lean forward barely catching yourself with your arms before you could actually suffocate the boy under you.

you crawled down his body, your breath hitching as you took in the sight of his face glistening with your juices. his tongue swept out as he licked up every trace, dark eyes fixed on you.

his hands remained anchored on your hips, fingers flexing just enough to press you down against his body. you could feel him hard and burning through the thin fabric of his sweats. the instinctive grind of your hips had him exhaling a low chuckle. you wanted this, he wanted this, but something held you back. if you crossed this line… would you really be able to turn back?

you didn’t have time to find out because the sound of the doorbell ringing snapped you both out of your daze.

jeno blinked, looking toward the bedroom door. “seriously...?”

“shit—” you scrambled off him, tripping over your own limbs in the process.

“i’ll get it,” he offered, starting to sit up.

“no!” you shoved at his chest, pushing him back down. “your face, jeno— it’s covered in my—just—go wash it off!”

he grinned lazily. “didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

“not the time!” you hissed, picking up your discarded clothes and putting them on.

jeno started, “i read somewhere that cum is really good for your skin—”

you didn’t dignify that with a response, slamming the door shut on your way out. your reflection in the living room mirror was a disaster: hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, fresh marks blooming along your neck. you tugged your collar up and plastered on what you hoped passed for a normal expression before opening the door.

and promptly felt the ground vanish under you when you saw who was standing outside.

“hey, beautiful” your boyfriend said.

your mouth went dry. “oh. wow. hi—”

he held up a bouquet. “i realized we didn’t really do anything special for valentine’s, and you were so thoughtful with your gifts…” his other hand revealed a small box.

your heart twisted at the sight.

“figured you deserved something nice after everything you’ve done for me.” he opened the box to reveal a delicate necklace, your initial glinting in tiny diamonds. “also, i wanna take you out today”

you swallowed. “it’s... beautiful, thanks.”

“here.” he stepped forward, gently brushing your hair aside to fasten it around your neck. his fingers grazed your skin then stopped.

“you’ve got a mark,” he said, frowning. his thumb skimmed over the hickey, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“mosquito bite,” you blurted.

he raised an eyebrow. “looks... aggressive.”

“it was a big mosquito,” you managed with a nervous laugh.

“massive, actually” came jeno’s voice.

you turned just as he was descending the stairs, towel-drying his face and now dressed in…god help you, only sweatpants. fresh hickeys also peppered his collarbone and chest.

your boyfriend’s smile tightened. “hi, man. hope i didn’t wake you.”

jeno shrugged. “nah, i was just eating a delicious meal.” his gaze flicked to you with something too close to amusement.

you fought the urge to kick him in the balls. “so! you said something about... going out?” you blurted, trying to shift the topic.

“uh... yeah. a new amusement park opened up nearby. thought we could check it out.”

“sounds amazing! i’m in!” anything to get out of this situation.

“i’ll just… shower real quick,” you said, stepping back.

“i’ll put the flowers in water,” your boyfriend offered, heading toward the kitchen.

as soon as he disappeared, you turned to jeno and hissed, “are you insane?”

he chuckled. “i didn’t even do anything.”

“you’re standing there shirtless covered in hickeys i don’t even remember giving you!” you whisper-yelled.

“yeah you went a little crazy, who knew you wanted me this bad?”

you shot him a glare. “this isn’t funny.”

“it’s a little funny.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your face. “god, you’re impossible.”

jeno leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him. “wouldn’t be nearly as fun if i wasn’t.”

you shook your head and darted upstairs, pulse still racing. what the hell was your life right now?

you gave yourself only twenty minutes to get ready, worried about leaving your boyfriend alone with jeno for too long. god only knew what kind of things jeno might say if left unchecked. you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping it simple with just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

when you came downstairs, you found them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. jeno was scrolling through his phone, legs spread out, a bored look on his face. your boyfriend was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing around as if searching for a conversation topic that didn’t involve glaring across the room.

“i’m ready,” you announced, trying to break the awkward tension hanging in the air. both boys looked up.

you noticed Jeno had changed into fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.

“i hope you don’t mind,” your boyfriend said, his smile too stiff to be genuine, “but i invited jeno to come with us.”

“what?” your head snapped to jeno, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“yeah,” jeno said, casually running a hand through his hair. “a few of my friends are heading there too, so i figured we could all hang out.”

“oh… how nice,” you muttered through clenched teeth. jeno just smirked, waiting for you to snap in front of your boyfriend but you held back, drawing in a calming breath and turning toward the door instead.

outside, your boyfriend wiped a tiny smudge off the driver’s side door of his car with meticulous care. jeno scoffed audibly.

your boyfriend paused, glancing over his shoulder. “jeno, do you have a car... or do you wanna ride with us?”

“my car’s in the shop,” Jeno replied without missing a beat.

“oh yeah? what do you drive?”

“a ’69 mustang fastback,” jeno said smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

your boyfriend’s lips parted slightly. you knew he was impressed—he loved cars—and even if he tried to play it cool, the way his eyes widened gave him away. “that’s a classic. was it your dad’s?”

“nope.” jeno grinned. “saved up since high school and bought it myself at the barrett-jackson auction last year.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shot up. “that’s... actually really impressive.”

yeah, jeno thought, satisfaction bubbling in his chest. he lived for moments like this, when people looked at him like he was something special. he just couldn’t let it slip that his dad had footed most of the bill for the car’s custom work. it wasn’t like he asked for that help, but there was no way he was turning it down either. and he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that in front of your boyfriend. not when the guy was looking at him with something close to respect. honestly, jeno kind of liked having that edge over him.

you could practically see the mental competition unfolding in front of you. jeno stood there like he’d just scored a point, while your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, clearly thinking of how to reclaim the upper hand.

“are you guys done with the dick-measuring contest, or should i grab a ruler?” you asked, arms crossed.

jeno laughed under his breath. your boyfriend glanced away, muttering, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

the ride was somehow worse than you expected. normally, when you’d ride with your boyfriend, the car was filled with pleasant conversation. he’d ask about your day and tell you about his… but now, with jeno in the backseat, the air felt suffocating. not even the faint music playing on the radio could ease your discomfort.

“were you sleeping before i came?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you tensed. sleeping? far from it. you’d most definitely come before he arrived, and now your face burned with the memory. you shot a quick look over your shoulder at jeno, hoping to gauge if he was going to say something incriminating. he was scrolling through his phone, but the corner of his mouth curled up in that stupid smirk of his.

“uh… no,” you said, clearing your throat. “i couldn’t sleep very well last night, so i just had an early breakfast.”

“ah,” your boyfriend hummed. “and your parents are back sunday, right?”

“yeah,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject.

the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. your boyfriend tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, occasionally glancing at you like he was expecting conversation but you were too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from how tense everything felt.

he reached over and turned on the car’s bluetooth. “let’s put on some music,” he muttered, scrolling through his playlist. he settled on a song, and you relaxed until you recognized the beat a split second before the lyrics started.

"thoughts of you keep me up at night..."

heat immediately started creeping up your neck. of all the songs... and of all the lyrics to play right now.

"i think about all of the ways you turn me on... and my bed gets lonely whenever you’re gone..."

you stiffened, eyes wide as you stared out the window. you could feel jeno’s gaze burning into the side of your face, and when you dared to glance back, you saw his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow raised like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. your boyfriend, oblivious to the lyrical implications, simply tapped along to the beat.

you reached for the phone. “let’s put something else—”

“what? you don’t like this song?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you with a smile.

“it’s… just—” you floundered. jeno chuckled under his breath.

“leave it,” Jeno said. “I think it’s pretty relatable.”

your boyfriend shot him a look through the rearview mirror probably wondering what he meant.

you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the ground to swallow you whole. why did the drive feel like it was taking forever?

when you arrived at the amusement park, you were pleasantly surprised to see jenny and natty waiting near the entrance, drinks already in hand.

“we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing, by the way” jenny grinned, looping her arm through yours when you reached her.

“yeah,” Natty added, slipping in on your other side. “we told him he was an idiot for not doing something nice for you on saturday, so this is his redemption, and we’re here as the judges.”

the revelation should’ve surprised you—maybe even disappointed you—but it didn’t. things with your boyfriend had been...off lately. neither of you was really trying, and you couldn’t blame him for that when you weren’t putting in much effort yourself.

still, you plastered on a smile. this is supposed to be fun, you reminded yourself. and it was, you went on nearly every ride. your boyfriend, though, wasn’t a big fan of fast rides due to his motion sickness, and you didn’t miss the way jeno scoffed every time he turned down your suggestions to ride together.

you were heading toward the food stalls when something caught your eye. “ooh! let’s do that one!” you pointed to a shabby building draped in fake cobwebs and flickering lights. a crooked sign above the entrance read bloody encounter in dripping red letters.

jenny made a face. “why would you willingly do that to yourself?”

“come on,” you urged, tugging her arm. “it’ll be fun! i saw a video of it on instagram! it looks insane.”

“that’s exactly why i don’t want to go,” jenny shot back, glancing warily at the entrance.

natty, wide-eyed, whispered, “have you seen that movie where a group of friends goes into a haunted house, and there’s an actual killer inside?”

“that’s literally a movie,” you said, but your attempt at sounding confident fell flat when natty added, “it was based on real-life events.”

you rolled your eyes but glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend trailing behind. he looked at the ride and grimaced.

“eh... i don’t know, babe,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know i hate this kind of stuff.”

you visibly deflated and before you could respond, another voice cut in. “i’ll go with you,” jeno said, stepping forward, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I—” you started to object, nerves twisting in your stomach. jeno? alone? no way. that felt like walking into a trap. “weren’t you going to meet up with your friends?” you tried, hoping to backpedal.

“they texted that they got a flat on the way here, so it’ll be a while before they arrive” he shrugged.

“you two have fun,” jenny said, already pulling natty away. “we’ll grab food in the meantime.” natty threw you a look that screamed good luck before disappearing into the crowd.

your boyfriend lingered. “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, eyes darting to jeno, whose expression remained unreadable except for the subtle roll of his eyes.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine. see you in a bit.”

stepping through the entrance, you were swallowed by darkness. the air was thick with the artificial scent of fog machines and that weird plasticky smell of cheap props. distorted laughter and screams echoed through the narrow halls, looping over speakers that crackled with static.

beside you, jeno looked about as thrilled as someone waiting in line at the dmv. he glanced around, gaze skimming lazily over the walls. "spooky," he deadpanned.

"wow, you're really committing to the whole fun-hater thing," you shot back, glancing over your shoulder. you knew something was about to jump out, it was just a matter of when. "if you hate this so much, why'd you come?"

“figured your dumbass boyfriend wouldn’t,” he shrugged, mouth quirking into something between a smirk and a sneer. "someone had to make sure you didn’t cry."

“excuse me—”

BANG!

a hidden panel to your left slammed open and a clown with cracked white paint on its face and red bulging eyes lunged out, blaring a horn right in your face. your soul practically left your body as you screamed and instinctively grabbed onto the nearest thing which, unfortunately, was jeno.

he didn’t even flinch, his arm simply went around your shoulders, comforting you even as your heart tried to beat out of your chest. you looked up, breath catching when you met his gaze. his eyes flicked down to where you were clutching his hoodie before lifting back to yours.

you pushed away, but his hand didn’t fall away immediately. it trailed from your shoulder down to the small of your back, you felt his warmth seep through the fabric of your sweater.

"so," he drawled, "should i hold your hand for the rest of this?"

“i swear to god…”

“—because i don’t mind”

“keep talking and i’ll feed you to the next clown,” you shot back.

he snorted. "like you’d make it through this without me."

you flipped him off without looking back, which earned a low chuckle in response. you stalked ahead, determined to focus on not tripping over the uneven floor, but his footsteps stayed close behind. annoyingly close.

the mirror maze was where things went downhill. everywhere you turned, warped reflections of you and jeno stretched and twisted in the glass. dark shapes flickered just out of sight, and the speakers just made everything worse by echoing whispers that felt like they were breathing down your neck.

your reflection twisted, making your head look three times too big. jeno snorted. “look, they got your good side.”

“bite me” you said, peering around a corner. your reflection multiplied into a dozen versions of you, all looking equally pissed.

“tempting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

jeno’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in the opposite direction.

“it’s this way,” he said.

“how would you know?”

“we’ve been stuck in here for like ten minutes,” he cut in. “you’re clearly not the best guide.”

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back.

jeno pointed at a door partially concealed by a tangle of fake cobwebs. “that’s gotta be the exit.”

“that looks deliberately hidden,” you said, eyeing it warily. something about it seemed off.

“well,” he shrugged, “either we try that or we keep wandering in circles. your call.”

fine. you followed him, trusting—against better judgment—that his instincts were better than yours.

they weren’t.

the door creaked open to reveal a forgotten section of the attraction with dust-covered boxes, broken props tossed in corners, and walls lined with peeling fake blood. the air smelled like damp cardboard and stale fog machine fluid.

“...okay,” he said, unfazed. “so not the exit.”

“wow. color me shocked.”

he shot you a look. “didn’t hear you coming up with better options.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the door. “whatever, let’s just—”

it didn’t budge. frowning, you tried again, putting more weight into it. nothing.

your pulse quickened. “uh... jeno?”

“what?”

“the door’s stuck.”

“just turn the handle—”

“i am!” frustration and panic crept into your voice. “i know how to open a damn door!”

“move.” he gently nudged you aside, grabbing the handle. he twisted while shoving his shoulder into it but the door held firm “...shit.”

your stomach dropped. this wasn’t funny anymore. “no, no, no… this can’t be happening.” you raked a hand through your hair.

jeno stepped back, scanning the room like there might be another way out. “it’s gotta be part of the attraction… like some escape room or…”

“yeah? you really think they’d make a whole escape room and hide it behind a side door that was clearly not supposed to be opened?” your voice cracked, breath coming quicker now.

he glanced at you, expression shifting. “hey.” his tone dropped, calmer. “don’t freak out.”

easy for him to say. your brain was already spiraling. you were locked in some creepy back room of a haunted house... with him.

you leaned back against the door, shutting your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“do you have your phone?” you asked, voice tight as you pushed away from the door and walked toward him.

he patted his back pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up before showing the dead screen. “no battery.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “of course.”

“the staff will probably notice we never came out,” he said, glancing around the dimly lit room. “they’ll be looking for us soon.”

“i didn’t even see anyone else besides that clown,” you muttered. “this is what i get for coming in here with you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” his voice dropped a note lower, and when you looked up, he’d stepped closer. your back nearly hit the door again, tension sparking between you like static electricity.

“you’ve clearly upset some kind of energy around me, and that’s why all these things keep happening,” you snapped, trying to push away the sudden awareness of how little space there was between your bodies.

“are you being for real right now?” he chucked bitterly, dark eyes flicking to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “you’ve been writing dirty fantasies about me for months but i’m the one somehow upsetting your energy?”

heat surged to your face, both from anger and embarrassment. “and that’s all they were! fantasies!” you shot back, voice rising. “i never wanted you to read those.” your breath came quicker. his proximity was messing with your ability to think straight.

“yeah?” he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. the playful glint in his eyes burned away, leaving something far more dangerous. “you say that like you didn’t mean every goddamn word.”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "is now really the time for this?"

“how come my presence didn't bother you when my mouth was between your legs?” he growled.

your hand shot up, ready to shove him away but he caught your wrist, pinning it above your head. your heart kicked into overdrive.

“not here,” you breathed, but it was weak, barely convincing.

“nobody’s around,” he rasped, chest flush against yours. “and you don’t really want me to stop.”

his lips dragged along your neck greedily, teeth scraping your skin before his tongue soothed the sting. your knees nearly gave out.

“jeno—fuck—we can’t,” you gasped, even as your hips arched toward him, desperate for friction.

“i’m sure i can make you cum before anyone shows up,” he promised, voice like rough velvet.

then he grabbed your thigh, hauling your leg around his waist and shoving his hips against you. the contact had you gasping, heat blooming everywhere at once. his grip was bruising, grounding you and shattering you all at once.

“you have no idea—” his breath was ragged, words spoken between gritted teeth, “—how fucking hard it was to sit back and watch you with him. i wanted to drag you away and remind you exactly whose tongue had you shaking mere hours ago.”

that snapped something inside you. your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him in as his mouth crashed against yours. his hips rolled, grinding against you in rough motions that stole every coherent thought from your brain.

you should stop. you should care about where you were or the fact that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, but the way he was touching you, kissing you, claiming you.

he pressed you hard against the wall, hands pulling at your sweater with urgency. the second it was off, his mouth was on you, sucking against the lace of your bra. his groan was barely controlled.

“fuck, so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words shaky. his gaze was hungry as he tore your bra off, his lips tracing the curve of your chest.

his mouth found your nipple, sucking hard. your back arched and a gasp slipped from you.

“god, perfect tits,” he growled. his hands were shaking now, and there was no control in his voice, just raw need.

without warning, he pulled your pants off, almost knocking you off balance. you barely steadied yourself before he turned you around, shoving you forward. Your hands gripped the wall for support, and you felt him push his erection against your ass.

“fuck, gonna make you feel so good. better than your fingers ever could. let me fill you up” he groaned, his voice desperate. you could feel how hard he was even through his jeans.

you bit your lip, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much you wanted him. before you could look back, his hand was on your jaw, turning your head to face forward.

“be good and i’ll let you look,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

he pulled your panties aside, the fabric stretching tight against you. it felt like it might snap any second, but before the thought could even settle, his finger was buried in your folds. the cool touch of his rings against your heat made you gasp, your body shuddering in response.

“oh god,” you mewled.

if your mind was clear enough to process anything, you’d laugh at how absurd this was. your fantasies, the ones you’d written about in your blog, were unfolding before your eyes, all within a day.

“barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping like this?” his voice was laced with amusement, though there was a growl beneath it.

“jeno, please don’t… tease me.” the words barely left your mouth, a plea you couldn’t hold back.

he smirked, his thumb brushing over your sensitive spot as he circled your clit. “i thought you were the one who didn’t want to do this here,” he taunted.

“please,” you whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought.

he chuckled, drawing another slow circle, teasing you, making you ache. every motion of his finger made your body respond, pushing your hips back instinctively. “so eager,” he muttered, his mouth hot against your shoulder.

his finger plunged inside you, and before you could adjust, another joined. he pulled them out slowly, spreading the slickness of your folds across your skin, making you squirm in desperation. you felt the pressure of his cock growing against your ass, and you clenched around his fingers, your walls yearning for more.

“ready for me, baby?” his voice was low, dark, almost a growl, and you nodded, mind too fogged to say anything.

he spread your legs wider, forcing you open for him, giving him better access. you felt the tip of his cock swipe against your folds, teasing the entrance, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance down. his pre-cum smeared against you, mixing with your slickness.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t even remember who came before me…” his words were gruff, hot against your hair.

and then, just like that, he thrust inside. you heard him inhale sharply as your gummy walls welcomed him, stretching around him, pulling him deeper. he felt thick, too thick, and you weren’t sure if he was all the way in, but the fullness was overwhelming. his body pushed against yours, your legs trembling under the weight of him, but he wasn’t stopping.

one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as jeno continued to push deeper. your moans grew louder, and with each thrust your inhibition was slipping away. it felt too good to care about being caught, to think about anything else but the feeling of being so full.

but then, just as you were losing yourself completely, the sound of footsteps and distant voices jerked you back to reality.

“guys, they probably already came out,” you recognized jenny’s voice, and you froze.

“y/n isn’t picking up her phone,” your boyfriend’s voice followed, too close, so close you could practically feel him in the room.

you pushed weakly against jeno, trying to make him pull out, but he wasn’t paying attention. instead, he thrust into you again, harder, his cock pressing into you so deeply that you bit your tongue to hold back the moan threatening to slip out.

“that’s cause i have it,” natty’s voice rang out, innocently. “she gave it to me when she went on the roller coaster earlier.”

jeno’s hand moved to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds you couldn’t stop from escaping. he continued to pound into you, relentless, while pulling you flush against his chest, his pace steady but punishing. panic clawed at your throat as your breath quickened.

“when were you gonna tell us that...?” jenny’s voice sounded sharp, you could even picture the scowl that came with it.

“did you try jeno?” your boyfriend asked, the concern in his tone making the situation even more unbearable.

“we don’t have his phone number,” natty replied casually.

“i do,” Jenny said, her voice almost sheepish.

jeno’s hips stuttered for a brief moment, the pace slowing as he briefly pulled away from you. you thought he was stopping but before you could even react, he spun you around, forcing you to face him. his forehead glistened with sweat, his lips swollen from how hard he’d bitten them, his breath labored.

“what? since when?” natty asked, her voice sounding confused but amused.

“i stole it from y/n’s phone,” jenny muttered quickly. “don’t tell her, though.”

before you could even process her words, jeno thrust back into you, pressing you into the wall with each brutal stroke. the wall rattled violently with every movement and you could barely form the words to warn him.

“j-jeno, stop… they… they’re gonna hear us,” you gasped. your whole body felt like it was being torn apart in the best way, but the fear of being caught made it impossible to enjoy it fully.

“let them,” he growled against your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. “let your boyfriend know i’m the only one who can make you cum.”

you couldn’t help the loud whimper that came out when he said that.

“did you guys hear that?” your boyfriend’s voice rang out, sharp with suspicion.

your eyes widened in sheer panic, your body stiffening around jeno. but instead of stopping, he only smirked, still buried deep inside you. the bastard was enjoying this.

his hand trailed down, fingers finding your clit, and the second he started rubbing tight circles, your head lolled back involuntarily. another strangled whimper escaped before you could stop it. the feeling of his fingers working you over while he continued driving into you relentlessly had you seeing white.

“what?” natty asked, her voice tinged with unease.

jeno didn’t stop, his movements staying controlled except for the way his breath hitched when your walls fluttered around him. his lips parted slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to keep from moaning out loud.

“it sounded like… a person?” your boyfriend said, his voice closer now.

your head snapped up in terror, eyes locking onto jeno’s, silently pleading with him to stop. but he wasn’t even looking at you. his teeth were digging into his lower lip, dark eyes fixed on where your bodies were joined, watching the way he disappeared inside you over and over again.

“it’s probably just the scary audio replaying on the speakers,” Jenny suggested.

“and that rattling sound?”

jeno’s eyes flicked up at that, finally registering your panic. without pulling out, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off the wall effortlessly, carrying you a few paces away before pressing you down onto an old, dusty table.

before you could even think to protest, he shoved your knees up and entered you again, deeper this time, making you arch off the surface with a muffled cry. your teeth sank into the flesh of your hand to keep the noises in.

the table creaked with each sharp thrust, dust kicking up into the air around you. tears pricked your eyes, whether from pleasure, mortification, or both, you weren’t sure.

“maybe rats or something,” jenny suggested, her voice fading as she moved further away. “who cares? let’s just go. they’re not here anymore.”

the moment the voices started retreating, jeno leaned over you.

“we almost got caught,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe “...and you’re still fucking dripping around me.”

you didn't even get to feel embarrassed by his words because soon he was already moving again harder, deeper, like he needed to make up for the interruption. the table kept creaking under the force of his thrusts, and your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto.

when you looked down, your breath hitched at the sight of his cock drilling into you over and over, slick coating both of you in a wet mess. you were mesmerized by the sharpness of his hip bones, the way his veins bulged with every flex of his muscles.

you wanted to touch. you needed to.

your fingers twitched with the urge. why is he still so covered? you’d seen him shirtless before, had spent far too long secretly admiring the cut of his abs, but seeing and feeling were entirely different. you wanted to feel them ripple under your hands, to feel the heat of his skin against your palms.

driven by that need, you pushed up on your elbows, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he didn’t stop you, just watched with dark eyes and parted lips as you dragged the fabric up, exposing smooth skin and the taut muscles beneath. your fingers splayed over his stomach, feeling how hard he was clenching, how his body responded to you.

jeno tensed the moment your hands made contact with his skin, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth. his hips faltered for a second before slamming back into you with even more force. your breath stuttered, and when you looked up, his eyes were already locked onto yours, pupils blown wide with something wild.

suddenly, he leaned forward and his lips crashed into yours, all-consuming. a deep grunt rumbled from his chest as he licked into your mouth, greedy and desperate, sucking at your tongue like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. you gasped, clutching at his shoulders, your fingers digging into the sweaty skin under his shirt.

he groaned against your lips, voice ragged. “you—” another thrust, deeper this time, knocking the air from your lungs. “—are driving me fucking crazy.”

you felt your orgasm building fast, your breath catching as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. words tumbled out of your mouth, barely coherent, dissolving into soft gasps as your body clenched around him. jeno moaned against your lips, his hand sliding back to your chest, fingers toying with your nipple. his hips didn’t slow, driving into you with almost manic thrusts that had your head spinning.

“fuck, i’m close,” he breathed out, voice rough in your ear. “where do you want it?”

you blinked through the pleasure, brain too sluggish to register the question. when it did, warmth flooded your cheeks. you were on the pill and the thought of him stuffing you up with his cum, just like you’d written about, made your walls flutter instinctively. “inside,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

jeno’s jaw flexed, his gaze darkening. “yeah?” his pace quickened, rougher now, his lips brushing against your neck. “couldn’t wait for me to fill you up, hm?” his words melted into a groan when you clenched around him.

“jeno—i—” the rest of the sentence dissolved into a cry as your orgasm crashed over you violently. your body arched into him, trembling.

he wasn’t far behind. you felt his rhythm stutter before warmth flooded you, his hips pressing deep as he let out a low, drawn-out moan. his lips found yours again, kissing you slowly, even as both of you tried to catch your breath.

when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours for a while. you wanted to ask what he was thinking, but the words stuck in your throat.

you felt him slip out of you along with the slow drip of hia cum trailing down your thighs. he reached for your discarded underwear, swiping it between your legs with surprising gentleness before, without hesitation, tucking it into his back pocket.

“hey—” you started to protest, but the look he shot you shut you up fast. apparently, those were his now.

a few quiet minutes passed, both of you fixing your clothes, when the door groaned open. you flinched as an older staff member peeked in, eyes widening upon spotting you two.

“what on earth are you two doing in here?”

you quickly stepped forward, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “so sorry, sir! we got lost trying to find the exit, and then the door jammed. thank you for helping us”

“yeah. where’s the way out?” jeno added, right behind you.

“just head left twice. you’ll see the exit sign.” the man shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he waved you off.

“thanks again!” you called, already pulling jeno with you. once outside, the cool night air hit your flushed skin, and you wrapped your arms around yourself with a shiver.

“if we’d followed my directions,” you said, glancing sideways at him, “we would’ve been out a while ago.”

jeno’s jacket appeared over your shoulders before you could argue further. “yeah,” he smirked, eyes glinting under the neon lights. “but then we wouldn’t’ve had all that fun, would we?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 my inbox is always open for any feedback about the fic or if you just wanna talk

support me here if you want (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[officialclangen]

CLANGEN UPDATE: CLANCOPHONY

(Download the update here, or via your in-game auto-updater!)

Hello furriends and Clanmates! We hope you have all lined your nests with feathers and moss; leaf-bare is here, and so is our next release!

Our lovely developers have been reinforcing the camp walls with new features for moons now. With the new release, you can direct your warriors' focus, befriend/antagonize the other Clans, invite in outsiders, choose symbols for your Clans, experience our new sound system, and more! ❄️

If you are having issues with your anti-virus flagging ClanGen, please look to this post for a guide on how to fix it.

Our changelog is very long, so it will be below the cut ❤️

Features

CLAN FOCUS: New feature accessed via the Warrior's Den. Direct your warriors' Focus towards specific goals, such as feeding the Clan or sabotaging other neighboring Clans. When the Focus is changed, there is a cooldown of 3 moons before it can be changed again, so choose wisely! Please note that some Focuses aren't accessible in Classic mode and that some Focuses require certain cat ranks to be present.

PRONOUNS: Wow! The cats have pronouns other than they/them? Yes it's true! Cats can now naturally generate with they/them, he/him, or she/her pronouns. Want a cat to have different pronouns than those options? You can do that to! Check out their profile page and the Change Gender option to add any pronoun under the sun. These pronouns will be used in text throughout the game when referring to that cat (give a big hand to our writing team for the monumental amount of work they did to get pronouns integrated into all the text!) Please note a new game setting to revert the game to only generating they/them pronouns for all cats.

LEADER'S DEN: You can now access the Leader's Den to view the other Clans neighboring your Clan as well as the known Outsiders. Decide how you want to interact with these other cats: will you appease the hostile Clans? Or antagonize them further? Will you hunt down that one pesky rogue? Or perhaps you've decided an exiled Clanmate should be allowed a second chance…

CLAN SYMBOLS: You can now choose a Clan symbol during Clan creation. Other Clans also generate with symbols, which you will see in the Leader's Den. There are currently 484 symbols available to choose from, a roster that we plan to continue expanding with each stable update. Please note that old Clan saves will not be able to choose a Clan symbol in-game, though save editing to change the symbol is relatively simple. When loading an old save, the game will attempt to assign a symbol matching with it's prefix, if no symbol exists then it will randomly choose a symbol.

CLASSIC CONDITIONS: Classic mode can now access illnesses, injuries, and permanent conditions! Please note that this still differs in some ways from Expanded mode. In Classic Mode, a single medicine cat can care for the entire Clan, specific herb amounts are not displayed on the med den screen, an herb will treat a condition regardless of the Clan's actual herb amounts, the Clan's herb supply is randomly generated and is not dependent on events.

AUDIO: What in StarClan?? Clangen with sound!? Clangen now comes with shiny new sound effects and one very lovely music track that plays during Clan creation. More music is on the horizon… and don't worry! There is a handy dandy mute button in the corner of the screen and audio settings to control music/ambiance and sound effects volume separately.

QoL

Fullscreen new and improved! Art no longer looks oddly crunched and the black frame has been replaced with pretty background art. This comes with a new setting to turn off anti-aliasing and a setting to ignore fullscreen scaling rules, just in case you want it a little extra large (please note that this setting will come with some visual quirks if enabled)

You can now search cats on the mediator page

More special characters are allowed in user notes

Leaders can now be affected by mass extinction events

Mass extinction events are now limited to affecting 11 cats at most, but they can occur multiple times in a single moon.

When leaders die of starvation, they now revive with enough nutrition to bring them up to malnourished, giving a little extra time to find food before starving once more.

Moon events that previously mentioned an Outsider, but did not generate an Outsider cat, will now generate an Outsider

Moon events that mention an Outsider can now pull an Outsider from the existing list of Outsiders, rather than generating a new one

War events will now match with the affect of the overarching war event for that moon (i.e. if the Clans are having peace talks that moon, no clan relation lowering events will occur at the same time)

More moon events are now recorded in the relationship log if they changed a relationship

"show dead/living" button on cat list is now "view dead/living"

"filtered by" button on cat list is now "sort by"

Last and First page buttons are now available on the cat list screen.

Players can now input a page number on the cat list screen to move to that page immediately

Leader death history now displays as a single sentence for each death, rather than one long run-on sentence

Custom cursor setting now comes with a warning about increased chance of crashes

All text (or at least, the vast majority) can now be copy-pasted!

Buttons on moon events that lead to the profiles of cats involved now generates a horizontal scroll bar if the buttons go off-screen

If a moon event had no cats specifically involved, the involved cat button no longer displays

Alert exclamation marks now persist until the tab is clicked

When keybinds are on, you can now use the arrow keys to move up and down the event tab buttons, and the enter button to switch to the selected tab

Cats can now be quickly added to and removed from patrols via double clicking

Herb moon events no longer destroy herb supplies in their entirety (with the exception of one war event) and any large destruction events no longer occur if herb stores are already low

Herb gained on moonskip and patrols has been slightly buffed

Relationship value changes when cats break up is now dynamic, meaning some break ups have larger impacts than others

Newborn kits are now listed in the involved cat buttons on moon events

Quick start! You can click Quick Start at the beginning of Clan Creation to skip to the end. All choices will be made randomly

Content

100s of new patrol art additions

Many many new patrols! Many requiring specific traits or skills.

New outcomes for existing patrols! Many requiring specific traits or skills.

New Camps! The Mountainous camp, Ruins, and the Beach camp, Fjord.

New moon events, such as murders and new ways to gain accessories.

Literally 1000+ new relationship events

Many many new thoughts, many of which are exclusive to certain traits, ages, conditions, seasons, and skills

New leader ceremony possibilities, many of which are exclusive to cats of certain traits (both the dead cats and the new leader)

Prefix list updated to include new canon names (looking at you, Stretchkit)

Many new loner/kittypet names

Many outcomes for Leader Den events, many of which are specific to certain skills, traits, and ages

New events for pregnancy announcements and speculations

New grief events and thoughts

New accessories!

Bugfixes

Murders will no longer occasionally crash the game

Fixed a bug caused by the training app murder event

You can no longer sort living cats by death date

Players no longer get stuck in the med den backrooms (when accessing the med den through cat profiles, the back button would return you to the cat profile. attempting to back out of the cat profile would take you back to the med den. rinse and repeat, it's a loop)

Buttons now disable/enable properly when closing relationship logs on first and last cats in the cat list

You can no longer enter negative page numbers by clicking the back button very very fast

Leaders now receive appropriate birth event text when dying from childbirth

Outsider kittens can no longer join as warriors

Long term conditions, like wasting disease, will now display in leader's history if they took a life

When leaders are lost on patrol, patrol result text no longer mentions them by their warrior name

Litters can no longer spawn with duplicate names (i.e. two kits named Stonekit)

Medicine cats captured by twolegs no longer have their role erased

Cat history no longer lists cats as murdering themselves

Kicked cats out of the walls (fixed some possible cat positionings on camp screen)

Adolescents can no longer be considered "normal adults" in patrols simply because they graduated to warrior early.

Kits adopted during moon events now receive correct inheritance info and begin with a positive relationship toward new adoptive parent(s)

Mates of adoptive parents now automatically adopt any newly adopted kits received on moonskip

Check added for matching age when assigning random romantic relationship values at Clan creation

When assigning random relationship values at Clan creation, the Guide cat will now only generate relationships with living cats old enough to have known the Guide in life.

Adopted litters now always generate with a bio parent, ensuring their inheritance lists them as littermates

The generation of half-clan litters no longer assumes the birthing parent can only be the (biologically) female parent (this is important for "ignore biology" game setting)

Cats with no romantic interest in each other will no longer receive romance decreasing events

Poly cat love confessions no longer read as though one cat is asking their dead mate for permission before accepting a new cat into the polycule.

Rosemary is no longer applied to the "dead body" of a lost cat

Affair birth events no longer mention nonexistent mates

Fixed mistagging in patrols that would lead to unintended effects

Many small UI issues

Many small sprite fixes

Many typo fixes

[revlw]

𓏵 CTRL//OBEY

YAN! ITRAPPED X READER

Warning : obbsessive behavior , yandere themes , stalking , worshipping , self aware , ITrapped.

Note : Please do not romanticize real stalking or abusive behavior. This is for fictional and horror purposes only. Art : @/MrMiao_Noir on X

You hear about ITrapped before you ever see him.

Rumors. Whispers. A name spoken in hushed tones by survivors in the campfire light. Most describe him with confusion. “He’s not like the others,” someone mutters. “Doesn’t chase you like a normal killer… doesn’t even look like a monster.”

He doesn’t. Not at first glance.

When you finally see him, it’s under flickering lights in a run-down hallway. A basic noob avatar, low-poly and harmless looking—except for that Ice Crown on his head, glowing faintly, coldly. He stands motionless in the dark, head slightly tilted, as if studying you. Not attacking. Not even moving.

Then he vanishes.

You think it was a glitch.

It wasn’t.

His obsession begins not with violence, but with access.

You start noticing strange things in your rounds. Generators you just touched regress by themselves. Doors that should’ve been opened glitch out and lock. Items flicker in and out of existence. But these things only happen when you’re nearby.

At first, it’s frustrating. Then it’s unsettling.

You complain to others, but no one else sees it.

Except him.

ITrapped always appears briefly—standing in the background of your match, not lunging at you like other killers, not roaring or hunting. Just… watching. Frozen. Calculating.

Eventually, the sabotage stops targeting you. Instead, it starts protecting you. He disables traps you don’t see. Breaks paths for other survivors—but not you. You’re allowed to move freely, untouched.

You haven’t done anything to earn his favor. That’s what scares you.

You’re not playing the game. He is.

You begin to realize he’s more than just a presence in the matches. He’s altering the game itself.

Somehow, your matches always start with him now. The map selection glitches until it favors the ones he prefers. Load-in screens freeze when you try to quit. Your inventory resets to a “default” version, and the only item that stays is a strange crown-shaped charm he leaves in your loadout.

Players who get too close to you start having issues. One survivor who stayed by your side the whole round disconnects mid-match and can’t rejoin the server. Another finds their controls reversed. One player swears their Roblox account briefly locked when they tried to message you about him.

Still, he never harms you directly.

When you’re injured, he lets you limp away. He never tunnels you. He lets you finish generators—if you’re alone.

You realize, eventually, that he doesn’t want to kill you.

He wants to isolate you.

The first time you speak to him is accidental—proximity voice, maybe, or a glitched chat prompt.

You don’t even know what to say, but you try: “Why are you following me?”

There’s a pause. A long one.

Then a quiet, unreadable line of text appears in chat:

“I used to fix broken things. Then I saw you. I don’t need anything else now.”

You feel a chill—not from fear, but because the message auto-deletes seconds later. Like the system itself didn’t want you to remember.

But you do.

From that point on, he no longer hides. He orbits you in every match. Other survivors grow suspicious. Some stop queuing with you. Others start blaming you when their matches glitch out. You’re alone more often now.

Which is exactly what he wants.

He never refers to you by your username. He calls you “buddy”—the way he once referred to Chance. The way someone might speak to a pet project, or a favorite possession.

You stop seeing him as just another killer. He’s no longer playing the game.

He’s rewriting it.

Your escape routes begin to vanish. The hatch doesn’t spawn when you’re the last one. Exits flicker with ERROR signs when you touch them. Sometimes, your screen goes black mid-match, and when it returns, you’re in a custom map no one else seems to recognize. He’s always there, standing still in the center.

“You’re the only file I didn’t want to delete.”

You can’t tell if he’s speaking in metaphors or literally viewing you as code.

Either way, you’ve stopped feeling like a player.

You’re Already His.

Eventually, he stops appearing to other players entirely.

Only you see him now.

You’re told he’s “disabled” or “removed” from the rotation, but he still shows up in your queue. You report it. Nothing happens.

One night, your screen boots up without you clicking anything.

The message appears in familiar black font:

“Game loaded: You + Me”

And when the round starts, you’re alone.

No teammates. No map.

Just him.

Just you.

Just silence.

And you could feel that he’s smilling.

@revlw 2025

[emo-batboy]

Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

SO

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

[8turning]

☆⠀⠀PARK.JONGSEONG — like the first !

long distance bf ! jongseong x gn ! reader ★ fluff. established relationship. idol au ★ 905 wc

warnings: jongseong is referred to as jay. ldr but not necessarily implied foreigner reader. brief eating mention. pda (not a lot JFHBHJF)

… (🌏) — ji’s computer … the first work i've written (from the start) since coming back from hiatus,,, this feels like a redebut /lhj

if you enjoy, please consider reblogging

YOU COULD BARELY SEE THROUGH THE TEARS LINING YOUR EYES.

your cheek was squished against his shoulder - arms tightly wrapped around you to keep you still as he takes in your presence fully. you can feel his chest rising and falling against your own; a foreign rhythm you can't wait to become accustomed to as your time with him begins.

though you knew you should probably care a bit more about the luggage case you haphazardly abandoned in favor of hugging your boyfriend in the airport, you can't find it within yourself to pull away enough to look to your feet to see if it's still there.

you let out a shaky sigh, the adrenaline you felt as your flight landed finally dissipating from your being as tiredness took over. only now, while you were in jay's arms, did you feel just how much your legs were aching - how sore your feet were and how you wished for nothing more than to lay down fully and rest, if possible.

before you could allow yourself to feel selfish for those desires meanwhile the very person your visiting stood in front of you, your boyfriend spoke up just loud enough for his voice to pierce through his black mask.

"how was the flight? oh my god, you're here..." he says, the disbelief evident in his tone as he loosens his arms just enough to see your face. you were sure the flight had made you look less put together for your arrival, but jay couldn't care less. he'd rather see you in this state all the time versus only see you through a screen. "are you hungry? we can go eat something if you are-"

"jay," you say, your voice course having not had to use it for some hours. his eyes light up, meeting yours before you can see the remnants of a smile bloom on his face from beneath the mask. hearing your voice through his speakers or earbuds could never compare to hearing it now, especially when you called his name so softly - he felt so incredibly lucky.

"i think i should rest a bit ... i'm sore from sitting for a while," you explain, the fog you felt between your ears making it difficult to articulate your exact thoughts. thankfully, jay understood loud and clear; his entire focus was on your voice, after all.

with a nod of his head, jay leans down to re-extend your luggage's handle, putting it back on its wheels before lifting your backpack straps from your shoulders. "i'll carry these, is that okay?" he asks gently, the subtle weight shift from the backpack already relieving the ache you had endured.

without needing a reply, jay lifts the bag from your shoulders, slinging it onto his own with ease before taking hold on your luggage with one hand, his free one reaching for your own.

"the van should be just outside," jay says, his smile visible as his eyes squint. you prepare yourself for the cold - bringing your vacant hand up to pull your coat tighter around yourself as you follow jay through the automatic doors.

the chill from outside wakes you up instantly, a short gasp escaping your lips as you powerwalk down the sidewalks outside the airport to reach the waiting van. jay's quick as he moves to the car, holding your hand tighter in an attempt to spread the little body heat he had to you.

with rushed movements, jay releases your luggage from his hand as you reach the van, still holding onto you firmly as he slides the door open.

he refuses to let you go, loading your bags into the car before ushering you inside first, his hand keeping you steady as you step inside. only then does he release your had from his hold, removing your backpack from his shoulders to set at your feet before accompanying you inside as well.

sliding the van door shut, he lowers his mask to just under his chin, a beaming smile on his lips as he feels his heart beating faster. your eyes glow in the dim illumination of the car & surrounding gleam, & as the internal lighting fades due to the doors closure, jay's eyes travel along your features - doing his best to take in everything before the night takes over his view.

"rest," he says quietly, his voice hushed as the low hum of the car sounds around you, feeling as the car begins to move forward. jay's hand moves towards you, double-checking your seatbelt is safely buckled in place before placing a comforting hand over your own.

his thumb soothingly glides along your knuckles, a gentle reminder of his presence as your eyes lull shut - your breathing slowly evening out as your drive begins.

as passing city lamps & the headlights of other cars flash against your closed window, jay catches small glimpses of your relaxed features. his hand remains on yours as he watches you fully settle into the chair, taking it as a hint that you're slowly letting sleep overtake you.

jay's heart swells at the thought - despite only being in each others physical presence for mere minutes, you already felt comfortable enough with him to sleep beside him. pushing every thought of how your stay is now fighting a ticking clock, he smiles - his hand squeezing yours gently before turning to watch the passing buildings from his own window.

© 8TURNING 2023. all works/visuals created by 8TURNING. do not use, copy, or claim as your own.

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

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thanks for the support!!

reply to be added!

[slayerdurge]

Regarding The Busts in Gortash's Office

So because I'm endlessly obsessive, I did what I said I would do & wrote down the names and descriptions of all of the people that Gortash has busts of in his office because they seem to be people he admires so I wanted to analyze them, as one does when one is endlessly obsessive. I also did additional research on the ones that I could find more information about. Here they are, and some of my own thoughts on why they might have been included (under a read more because it's long because, again, obsessive).

Baron Alec Bormul - First of the Bormul patriar family to start his own venture, Alec is the unscrupulous bastard who made their fortune in mines and vineyards.

Now, as far as I can find, this is the only information we have about this character. However, there are several other Bormul family members that exist in the game (including an NPC called Callem Bormul who is present at Gortash's ordaining ceremony). The one that stands out more to me though is Ilza Bormul, who is mentioned in the in-game book "Baldur's Gate and the Dialectics of Plunder" and stated to own "slave-labour mines in the mountains of Amn". Presumably therefore Alec is an "unscrupulous bastard" due to the use of slave labor. Not particularly surprising Gortash would approve of that since he is a known slaver himself. Interestingly, that same book also mentions Xeremiah Eltan, who is another of the busts in the office, as another example of the fact that Baldur's Gates patriar families are all founded by blood and immorality (which the author of the book says no one ever talks about). So I imagine both busts are also included as confirmation of his worldview that no one innocent ever gets far in life. I think it's also notable here that Gortash chose to commemorate the "first" of the family who "started his own venture". We know he loves a self-made man, no matter how brutal his path was. Commodore Morgan Redlocks - Baldur's Gate ship captain Morgan Redlocks wed a man thrice her age. After the wedding, the groom suffered a heart attack. Redlocks converted his merchant ships into a pirate fleet.

Unfortunately not a character that I can find any more information about, but how much do you want to bet that she killed her husband? I mean, come on. He has a heart attack so soon after the wedding that he's still being referred to as the "groom" and not the husband? Plus it wouldn't even remotely surprise me that Gortash would appreciate a subtle femme fatale assassin. Also, of fucking course he would admire a pirate. Magnate Carric Ilphescient - Carric started from nothing, built a financial empire, and founded the Counting House. He refused to mingle with the other patriars, saying, "They didn't want me when I was an urchin, and now they can't have me."

Another self-made man, and one who does not mince words about it. Easy to imagine that that quote reflected Gortash's own mentality. Only other reference I could find to him was in an in-game book in the Counting House called "Record of the Honoured" but all it tells us is that he did in fact found the Counting House. The Cockeyed Stranger - This is a bust of the god Bane as he first appeared to Gortash in dreams, and was then described to a Rivington sculptor.

Bane is obviously a far more established D&D character than anyone else here, so I could write a whole page just about Bane and how I imagine Gortash sees him. I swear I've seen a bit of loading screen flavor text in BG3 that states that when Bane was a mortal man, he was originally a battleslave of Mephistopheles, but it is possible that I'm wrong about that because I cannot find confirmation of this lore anywhere on the internet. (If anyone else has seen that loading screen flavor text, please confirm so I know I'm not hallucinating!) But if it is true, then it's immensely clear what Gortash sees in him. Gortash's whole thing is he absolutely loves the idea of someone who started from the bottom and rose to the top through sheer ruthlessness. He likes the idea of overthrowing his oppressors and taking their place. As a whole, Bane's doctrine also fits Gortash really well. The Forgotten Realms Wiki says that Bane "embodied the principles of ambition and control and believed that the strong had not only the right, but the duty, to rule over the weak." I can easily imagine Gortash having the same mentality. Bane is also known for being a lot more open to having alliances than is typical for an evil god, but he always makes sure he ends up on top. (I could write a whole other analysis about how the original plan hatched by Gortash, Durge, & Ketheric leaves Gortash in the best position. Ketheric gets to be a fearsome conquering general, Durge (later Orin) gets to spread chaos in the streets, but Gortash is the one who ends up being the hero who can actually not only have the benefit of his legitimate ruthlessness but also the benefit of it remaining hidden! By far the best position in the alliance. Orin actually is mad about this (she gives a little speech to Durge about how Gortash betrayed them because all her murders only drive the people of Baldur's Gate into the arms of his Steel Watch) but it is implied that Durge didn't think of it the same way since those were always the terms of the plan... something that always makes me wonder about what exactly it is that Durge & Gortash originally had planned in the long-term. Were they really just both always planning to betray the other eventually? Because I'm honestly not so sure about that. I think they're both too smart for that. But I digress.) Dame Amafrey Ephemial - Dame Amafrey, the Orphans' Friend, founded several orphanages in the Outer City, as the Lower City was no place for children (and the Upper City declined to sponsor an orphanage).

Okay, this is by far the black sheep in the set. A philanthropist? Seemingly without an ulterior motive? Why is she included here? I mean, on the one hand, I could almost believe that Gortash is sympathetic to the plights of children in a way he wouldn't be for adults (since he suffered so much as a child & since children don't have as many ways to help themselves and take responsibility as adults do), but on the other hand, it is so deeply inconsistent with his character too. But then again, maybe he's just a hypocrite. Maybe this really is some sort of secret soft side. Or perhaps it has more to do with the fact that she seemed to be bogged down by the corruption around her (the Upper City declined to sponsor an orphanage) so maybe he keeps her bust around as a reminder that good intentions don't get you far enough. I genuinely don't know with this one, and I was unable to find any more info about Dame Ephemial. Grand Duke Eltan - Founder of the Flaming Fist. Later history is kinder to him than accounts from his time, which portray him as a cruel and hard-handed mercenary commander.

According to the same in-game book mentioned previously (Baldur's Gate and the Dialectics of Plunder), he "founded the Flaming Fist as a ruthless mercenary company that slaughtered and burned for pay along the entire length of the Sword Coast". He is also a character in the first Baldur's Gate game and the expansion Baldur's Gate: Siege of Dragonspear. According to the Forgotten Realms Wiki, he was Lawful Neutral and he was known as "steadfast and principled" because of his "tactical genius" and "a sincere belief in maintaining the balance of power among the many small kingdoms of Faerûn". Also apparently he survived a whole lot of assassination attempts. Easy to see why Gortash would see this one as a role model, I think. He is described as a "tactical genius" himself. I also think it's interesting that it says that "later history is kinder to him than accounts from his time". I mean, we know Gortash is huge on propaganda and controlling the narrative. I would imagine he cares how he might be remembered.

[squidhominid]

One last Deltarune theory for the road

This one literally came to me while I was lying down in bed trying to get to sleep at like 8 in the fucking morning.

The trailer calls Deltarune 'Undertale's parallel story'. I think I figured out what that means.

UTDR is a time loop.

We can be pretty sure that the Sans and Papyrus in Undertale are the future versions of the ones from Deltarune.

They're the only ones who acknowledge the existence of toilets, when monsters in Undertale aren't supposed to need toilets since their food converts directly into energy, meanwhile monsters in Deltarune work like humans. Sans bleeds at the end of Genocide, and I'm starting to doubt the fanon explanation of it being ketchup.

Not only that, but Papyrus explicitly refers to a place with 'green grass' in his interview when asked about where he and Sans were 'before Snowdin', when nowhere in the Underground is like that, but Hometown is. This is pretty ironclad.

We know that Sans and Gaster must've worked together. There are the 'Gaster Blasters' in the Sans fight, but also Sans' workshop. Not only that, but Sans' workshop strongly hints at Sans in particular having come from somewhere, somewhere he can't return, something corroborated in the Sans fight when Sans explicitly, directly refers to "giving up trying to go back a long time ago, and getting to the surface doesn't really appeal anymore, either", meaning 'going back' and 'going to the surface' are DIFFERENT THINGS.

Circling back to Sans' workshop, there are two different states the workshop can be in. If you go to it normally, it references a photo album of Sans with 'a lot of people you don't recognize', 'looking happy', him having some sort of badge, and blueprints written in 'symbols' / 'maybe ... [bad] handwriting', for a 'strange machine', which may be the 'strange machine' that's behind the curtain and broken.

However, if you get the 'clam girl' FUN event, which seems to have been directly foreshadowing Deltarune (referring to the clam girl's neighbor's daughter 'Suzy', and whose dialogue is different in the Switch version to directly acknowledge Deltarune Ch.1's impending release), the photo album text changes to mention a card sticking out of the back flap of the photo album, with 'a poorly drawn picture of three smiling people', with the message 'don't forget' written on it.

This is EXPLICIT in that it almost HAS to be referencing Kris, Susie, and one other person (Ralsei? Noelle?), and explicitly referencing Don't Forget, the credits theme from Deltarune and the closest thing pre-Chapter 3/4 that the game has to a theme.

This means that the Sans in Undertale has some integral tie in his past to the members of the Fun Gang (FUN gang...?) and the events of Deltarune.

Meanwhile, there are some pretty strong implications that Gaster post-Undertale is the one instrumenting the events of Deltarune. The Gaster who was the Royal Scientist, who fell into the CORE. Almost certainly the one who worked with Sans. Because this Gaster seems to have power beyond that of just a font skeleton. The game seems to very explicitly reference Gaster's Entry 17, the save and load screen in the Chapter 1/2 demo in its initial green-on-black state has Gaster explicitly referencing the save files as if they are instances of the Hometown universe being created and destroyed at your whim, this is a Gaster with some level of control over reality.

This puts us in a scenario where, if we are to assume that a Hometown Gaster exists, and came to the Underground with Sans and Papyrus, Sans' future is Gaster's past. Meaning that if the events of Deltarune play out 'wrong', the events of Undertale never happen, which call if not the existence of Deltarune, at least the existence of the game client into jeopardy. Because the game client is diegetic, something provided to us by Gaster to establish our connection to the world. And if Deltarune plays out wrong, Gaster will not be in a position to supply us with that connection.

With the explicit ties between Noelle and Gaster (Noelle's seeming ability per the Spamton Sweepstakes ARGs to find game glitches drawn to her, the explicit references to Gaster's theme in Girl Next Door and Lost Girl), the evidence that Dess has some relation to the Dark Worlds (the baseball-shaped moon, the 'DECEMBER' buttons in that one portion of Chapter 2), Noelle being EXPLICITLY CALLED 'ANGEL' BY SPAMTON DURING THE WEIRD ROUTE.

The Weird Route is you the Player seizing control of Gaster's narrative by SEIZING CONTROL OF THE ANGEL. Leading directly to a time paradox that undoes all of UTDR.

May I remind you that in Undertale, the game supports cloud saves on Steam, not for your save file, but ONLY for the Genocide flag, so tainted Pacifist follows you through EVERY INSTALL OF THE GAME, even when your save file is gone. Diegetically, you can never escape the taint of Chara.

And may I remind you that in Deltarune, your choices follow you across save files, since the game will give you Shadow Crystals if you have defeated the secret bosses on ANY save file.

Undertale is a game where the existence of the player is diegetic.

Deltarune is a game where the existence of the game client itself is diegetic.

Toby's up to some fucking bullshit.

See you in four days.

[written-in-flowers]

Eve and Her Apple: Rafe x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Rafe x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, light angst

Word Count: 8k

Summary: A few weeks have passed since the golf course, and your feelings for Rafe have become complicated. Very complicated.

Tags: friends with benefits to lovers (?), forbidden romance, secret relatinship, slight mutual pining, brat!reader, dom!rafe, blackmail, hair pulling, dick slapping, face fucking, cum swallowing, masturbation w/ somene watching, dom/sub dynamic, cnc-ish play (very light), drug use (cocaine), sex under the influence, biblical references, car sex, outdoor sex, rough blowjob, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, multiple locations, oral sex (f. and m. receiving/giving), clit play, nipple play, LOADS of dirty talk/fantasy talk, overstimulation.

Part 1 < | > Part 3

****

Did Eve eat the apple because God forbade it? Was it knowledge she craved or a deeper desire for something she couldn’t have? Adam, understanding of his position in the Garden of Eden and aware of the way of things, would not even consider touching the apple. It wouldn’t cross his mind. Did Eve feel differently? Did she see the hanging apple and yearn for its taste? You wondered about this while sitting in the back of John B’s van.

“Do we really have to see this lame movie?” JJ said from his seat beside you. 

“Yeah,” Kie answered firmly. “It’s my birthday and we have to do whatever I want today. I want to see The Man on Mars, and that’s what we’re doing.”

“It’s just a boring old movie.”

You couldn’t help sympathizing with Eve these days. Once upon a time, you might’ve identified with Adam. You’d be going by Outer Banks rules and maintaining the status quo. But, ever since you started meeting up with Rafe, you no longer felt that way. The hanging fruit forever dangled itself right above you, and you gave into the temptation every time.

“...It’s a cult classic,” she argued. “You’ll get it once you’ve seen it. YN loved it when she saw it at my house, right YN?”

“Yeah, yeah, it was great,” you responded distractedly, using your phone to keep out of the conversation. 

On the screen, you’d left your last conversation open. JJ’s position kept your screen out of view, so you felt safe looking at it. 

‘Let’s meet up tonight. I need you.’ 

Rafe often sent you stuff like this. At times, he’d tell you his obscene fantasies and other times he’d say sweet things as lovers do. You knew he likely did not want a real relationship with you. His friends would rag or question him for dating a Pogue. Your friends would gasp and scold you for considering the idea. They were God telling Eve to stay away from the apple tree. During the silent moments, you wondered if it was a good idea, but then you remembered what Rafe held over your head. 

“...I personally don’t mind it,” Pope said across from you. “I’ve seen bits of it, and it seems okay.”

“It’s in Figure Eight territory.”

He’d saved screenshots of things you posted on your OnlyFans and Twitter profiles. Yeah, you’d deleted them as instructed, but he carried enough evidence to prove it's you. Sometimes, you wanted to call his bluff. You wanted to tell him to go ahead and post what he had; you didn’t care. But then, that serpent called humiliation slunk its way into your gut and wrapped itself around it. You’d think of your friends’ faces and their shock. Boys around town would start harassing you for sex while girls looked down at you. It’d be used against you in every argument, and make you the subject of gossip to last forever. You didn’t want to think about your parents’ reactions. They both worked hard so you could focus on school. Your acceptance into the local college made them happy, since you’d be the first in your family to attend. They wanted you to do well. Also, they’d likely tell you that wasn’t how they raised you. People around town saw you as a ‘good girl’. You didn’t want that to change because of your secret hobby. 

“So what?” Sarah said from the front seat. “We have as much right to be there as them.”

“Says the former Kook herself,” JJ said snidely with a playful smirk, earning chuckles from everyone. 

Rafe made you feel different. Not just in the ‘mind-blowing-sex’ sort of way, but something deeper and more meaningful. There was more to him than drugs, booze, sex and his country club. He carried demons inside him that not even your watery eyes and fake sobs could heal. You saw it whenever he grew particularly upset. Something dark took him over, and it was hard for him to fight it off. You grew closer together in those moments. You’d bring him close to you, stroking his soft hair and cradling him to your chest. He said you brought him peace. The bad voices in his head quieted whenever he was with you. Hate and anger often washed away, and he’d be left with nothing but love. 

“You guys, it’s Kie’s birthday,” John B said, “And if she wants to see a lame movie, then we’ll see it.”

Those moments made you believe his feelings went past lust. You’d be sliding into that thought, and then he’d do a one-eighty and suddenly he’s only interested in sex. As much as you enjoyed the things he did to you, emptiness and shame often lingered afterwards. If he harbored any real feelings for you, it’d be less terrible. You did like the softer things he did. He’d been the one who bought your new necklace. On a string of gold hung a rose carved out of rose quartz the size of a dime, petals bordered in glittering gold. It was the most expensive thing you owned. You told your friends your parents got it as an acceptance gift to avoid awkward questions. You smiled whenever you touched it, recalling his gentle tone and loving eyes. 

‘I just, you know, thought my girl should wear nice stuff sometimes.’

A few nights ago on his family's boat, the two of you grabbed a few beers, chips, snd hung out underneath the stars. Eith nobody home, you enjoyed each other's company in peace. While suggestive comments and innuendos were made, neither of you went past kissing for most of it. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket halfway through the night, while you smoked a joint and enjoyed the ocean waves. He pretended it was no big deal, being nonchalant and indifferent, but you saw right through him. 

‘I thought we agreed no romantic gestures, Cameron,’ you'd said playfully, letting him put the necklace on you. 

‘We did. This isn't romantic. I want you to wear it so you remember that you're mine.’

‘Hm, that sounds borderline romantic to me.’

You remembered his hesitation. ‘Consider it a platonic gift.’

“We’re here,” John B parked on the outskirts of a community building. “Let’s get going.”

As a fundraiser for the high school, a booster club hosted an outdoor showing of an old sci-fi movie Kie happened to like. You personally didn’t care either way, since you always had a good time with your friends. But, that guilt of lying to them started gnawing at you as you all made your way to the large crowd. JJ, Pope and John B took out lawn chairs and a cooler, planning to find a place to set up; Kie and Sarah went to get tickets while you went off to buy snacks. Standing in line, you wondered how Eve felt after eating the apple. Did the guilt fester inside her during a long silence or did she admit her crime right away? Knowing the story, she’d been punished. You knew your friends. Yeah, they might get upset by it, but you couldn't imagine them casting you out or never speaking to you again. They wouldn’t hate you. Or would they? 

You turned to the crowd where you saw JJ unfolding a chair. If your actions hurt anyone, it’d be the blond surfer with a charming smile and good sense of humor. That’s your Adam. That is who you are crafted to be with, and it made sense in your little Pogue world. People honestly expected it despite your age difference: JJ was sixteen while you'd just turned nineteen. JJ is safety. JJ is familiarity and certainty. He is the Adam to your Eve. Rafe is the serpent, whispering promises and sweet words as it pushes you to the apple. Eve chose the serpent and his apple. Should you make the same choice or risk God’s wrath?

“Hey, beautiful.”

You knew his presence before he said a word. Several weeks had passed since the golf course, and you’d become intimately familiar with Rafe’s body. You kept facing forward, and made another step to the snack table. 

“Hey,” you replied over your shoulder. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, “Now I have something better to pay attention to than this dumb movie.”

“If you think it’s dumb, why are you here?”

“Topper.”

“Topper?”

“He heard Sarah was going to be here, and the dumbass thinks he can still win her back,” he huffed. You imagined him shaking his head and fixing his cap. Ever since he learned you liked his backwards cap look, he wore it more often. Though, of course, you preferred him naked the most. “I told him he’s wasting his time but dude is whipped.”

“Sarah’s with John B now. There’s no way he’s breaking that up.”

You spotted the young couple by the sitting spot. She stood on tiptoes to kiss him before smiling happily. You remembered the outcry when John B admitted to dating Sarah. Kie disapproved full heartedly, while JJ and Pope wavered in theirs. You saw the break in Outer Banks rules, and the crossing of enemy lines should be frowned upon. Yet, when you saw the pair together, wrapped in their undeniable love for each other, you found peace with it. Having once been a Kook, Sarah left everything behind to be with him. It was the forbidden romance of movies and TV. You didn’t share that with Rafe, and likely never really would. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said close to your ear. “I love it when you wear your hair up.”

“It’s hot out. I didn’t want it to get all frizzy and stuff.”

Nothing to do with the subconscious habit of putting it up how he liked. A shiver went down your spine when a finger traced the back of your necklace. 

“You're wearing it today,” he pointed out. 

“I wear it everyday.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

You got to the front of the line and bought an array of drinks and snacks for everyone. Everything in you yearned to turn into his arms. All the stress from lying and deceiving your friends weighed too heavy to carry. The scent of his expensive cologne and soothing voice became the medicine to your pain. You resisted like Eve resisted the serpent. Even as the phantom sensation of his arms came, you moved to leave before you betrayed yourself. 

“I miss you,” he whispered, grabbing your wrist to hold you next to him. “Shit’s been crazy and…I need you.”

He wanted to be with you. It was these moments that hurt the most. “I miss you too,” you said, giving off the usual disdain your friends expected. 

His thumb rubbed the back of your wrist, and he let you yank your arm away. You walked off, putting up a disgusted front as you went back to the group. Everyone took a snack and Pepsi from you before you sat down beside JJ. 

“Rafe is bothering you again?” he asked, popping his can open. 

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal.”

“What did he say to you?”

That he missed you. That in the chaos of his life, only you gave him a semblance of peace.“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you answered, “Just the usual gross bullshit.” 

JJ’s jaw clenched, “Somebody should teach him how to talk to a girl.” 

You giggled, “And that’s gonna be you, JJ?”

“It could be. He’s always bugging you and making you uncomfortable,” he drank from his can, “And…I don’t like it.”

This pushed a blade deep into your heart. JJ was much younger than you. Sixteen and still in high school, surely he knows he has no chance with a college girl. Plus, you’re friends. It’d ruin your friendship if you guys hooked up. You saw what that’d done to Pope and Kie when they did. Yes, they worked through it and back to their friendship, but she admitted to slight awkwardness. You didn't want that with JJ, who made you smile so easily. You listed all these reasons as you opened a packet of chips. JJ will eventually move onto somebody else. His interest bounced around from girl to girl regularly. He’ll get over you. 

At least, that’s what you hoped happened. 

The movie soon started, the black and white film playing on a large projection sheet. Your friends engrossed in the movie, none of them noticed your phone lightly buzzing in your jacket pocket. You knew better than to open the message with them so closeby, but you still took it out. 

‘I’ve been thinking about what we did last time all day.’ 

You’d done it in his truck last time. The both of you met up in the dead of night by The Boneyard, a deserted area of the island where it was easy to not be spotted. His black truck parked on the outskirts, he’d laid out a blanket in the bed and ravished you right there. Yes, he handled you with his usual roughness, but not as badly as that first time. You sensed the loving caresses behind his tight grips; you heard the words of love laced into his dirty talk. Your cheeks flushed remembering it yourself. You thought about his heavy body on top of yours, hands on his shoulders and legs around his waist. You mostly thought about why you’d met up: he’d needed your soft sighs and kisses to calm the storm raging inside him. Apparently, he’d spent money he shouldn’t have and now he needed to come up with it before his dad found out. Rafe often did things he shouldn’t, then regretted it afterwards. You liked to think holding you soothed him somehow. 

‘Did you ever get the money back?’ You texted back, not wanting to test emotional waters at the moment. 

‘Yeah, sold some coke at a party and used it for those dumb generators,’ he responded in record time. ‘I have some on me if you’re interested.’

‘What’s it gonna cost me? A blowjob?’

‘I was going to say nothing, but I won’t say no to that mouth. Nobody throats me like you do.’ 

‘Meet me by my truck in like 20 mins? Topper’s starting to annoy me.’

Even Eve showed hesitation. It’s wrong of you to take yourself away from her special day, knowing she wanted to share it with you. You casted a glance over at Kie. Your best friend. Your closest confidant that you were currently lying to. She’d been looking forward to you guys hanging out on her birthday, since it was hard for you to get away from work and school. You’d decided to make one lie true and work with your mother cleaning houses. It didn’t pay like OnlyFans, but you found tranquility in the constant work. 

‘Later? It’s Kie’s birthday and I don’t want to just bail on her.’

‘Not even for a quick one? We’ve had quickies before.’

‘Sorry, hun. You’re just going to suffer in your horniness a bit more.’ 

‘I’m destroying you when I catch you.’ 

‘Looking forward to it,’ you replied, smirking slyly to yourself. 

You left JJ’s side for Kie’s, planting your seat there. “This movie isn’t that bad,” you whispered, taking some popcorn from her. 

You put Rafe from your mind, and concentrated on the movie. You wanted to put your effort into making Kie’s birthday the best. You even silenced your phone to avoid temptation. Having seen it with Kie, the both of you whispered about certain parts and laughed at the movie’s very terrible special effects. It felt like before you and Rafe. It reminded you of times that were unburdened by secrets and lies. You let yourself soak in the moment instead of paying any mind to the man in the back of the crowd. 

When the movie ended, you all planned to end the night at John B’s house with beer, pizza and a cake you’d baked yourself. Climbing back into The Twinkie, you took your phone out of habit. Several messages from Rafe proved he’d truly been bored throughout the film. 

‘Topper won’t SHUT UP about my sister. Dude’s her bitch, I swear. He’s like Sarah this and Sarah that. I told him he’s better off without her, but when does anyone listen to me?’

‘You actually like this movie?? I never thought you would. It’s so dumb.’ 

‘I guess it ain’t that bad if you like it.’

‘Can’t wait to get you alone. I love anything you wear, but you look best when you’re naked and cumming on my dick.’

‘You’re going to be crying by the time I’m done with you, slut.’ 

These and several more had you concealing a cackle. You put it away without answering, knowing he’ll see you had read it and chose not to answer him. Rafe didn’t like being ignored by you. You knew the feeling. He often returned the favor, going hours without answering even your naughtiest of texts. Perhaps you both liked the game. Perhaps the serpent enjoyed taunting Eve and much as she enjoyed taunting him. You only answered when you reached The Chateau. 

‘Looks like Topper isn’t the only one who’s whipped.’

“Here,” Kie came over to you at the picnic table with a beer. She handed it to you and sat down on the table. “So, who’s the guy?”

“Huh?” 

“The reason you’ve been glued to your phone all night,” she said with a knowing smirk. 

You wanted to tell her, consequences be damned. But, the whole situation sounded so ridiculous and embarrassing. Where would you even start? You hardly processed it yourself, so how can you explain it to her?

“Nobody important,” you answered, putting your phone down and opening the beer. You took a sip of the foamy drink, and said, “Just a ‘for-fun’ guy. Good in bed, but boring otherwise.”

“Is it that tourist from the kegger?” 

The tourist from the kegger. A sleazy guy with boring conversation whose name you hardly remembered made for a poor Rafe substitution. You nodded, “Yeah, that guy. It’s whatever, honestly.”

“He’s still in town?”

“He extended his stay apparently.” You hated how good you’d become at lying. “I don’t even think I’ll meet him.” You needed to change the subject, “What about you? What happened with that conservation guy?” 

You listened to her talk about her meaningless connection to a guy she’d met at the party. The tourist was meant to take Rafe out of your mind. He’d been a lanky, skinny dark-haired beauty who played guitar and sang for his indie band. You barely paid attention to anything he said; getting into his pants was your main focus. Anything to wash Rafe out of your head. Sadly, that hadn’t worked. The tourist didn’t have Rafe’s aggression or tenderness. His bony, clammy hands didn’t match up to Rafe’s thicker, warmer fingers. His voice was higher compared to Rafe’s low groans. The dirty talk didn’t do anything except make you giggle from cringing. At the end of it, it was Rafe who finished you. 

‘You’re lucky I don’t post those screenshots right now, bitch. Get on your knees. I’m gonna remind you who you belong to so you never forget.’ 

He’d left you sore and tender on his bed quivering and teary eyed. It was his gentle kisses and praises that kept you from slipping. He’d apparently kept aloe vera by his bed, and ice packs in his refrigerator. You didn’t think he had a soft side until then. He’d let you stay over, cuddled in his arms, and snuck you out the next morning before anyone woke up. 

‘Wowwwww I text you and you ignore me??’ 

His text made you giggle. You left it unanswered, being brought to an impromptu dance floor JJ created and twirled around. The both of you danced to the pop music Sarah played, drinking and munching on the pizza on the table. You let yourself drown in the small party. If you kept checking your phone, they’d catch onto you. You only paused to take a photo of the beer can on the table, then texted him. 

‘Sorry, been a bit busy.’ 

He responded with a photo of a small white bag on his lap. ‘I got something better waiting.’ 

The offer might be nice, but it was his hand that enticed you. Veins more noticeable than usual, the scale of his hand to the bag created ideas in your head. The beer left you feeling loose and warm, craving Rafe’s hands. 

‘Where?’

‘Boneyard.’

‘I'll think about it 😝’

‘You're definitely getting it now.’

And you really couldn't wait. 

****

His truck parked underneath an old tree, tingles bursted when you imagined him behind the tinted windows. Already, you could feel his hard body flushed against yours, his mouth in places that elicited sparks from your loins. Rafe brought out an excitement in you that most men these days could not. When they kept a mild interest, Rafe’s ability to ensnare you should be studied. You might’ve thought he’d taken lessons from Lucifer himself with how easy he did it. Like a snake with its prey, he coiled around you and never let you go. You didn’t want to either. 

A cool salty breeze met you when you stepped out of your car. Taking in lungfuls, your nerves suddenly dissipated when the driver’s door opened. You drank him in as if you’d never see him again. Wearing a plain tshirt and shorts, he made the most casual of outfits damn near lethal. Perhaps that was the alcohol buzzing in your system. Maybe it was your ever growing desire for him. It might even be that annoying voice in the back of your head that created images of something more. 

When he reached you, his arms instantly went around your waist and pulled you to his chest. You buried your face in the soft cotton, inhaling his scent. A familiar woodsy scent came off him all the time, and you couldn’t stop yourself from drowning in it. Your mind associated him with the scent, causing you to think of him if you caught a wisp of it. He did not wait to show his eagerness for you, immediately pressing you to the truck bed and holding you there. Whether he confessed it or not, Rafe’s longing for you came in each deep kiss.

“You kept me waiting on you,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m sitting at home, desperate for you, and you kept me waiting.”

“It’s fun making you squirm a little,” you giggled before he sealed it with another kiss. “Humbles you, you know?”

“I’m far from humbled, sweetheart.” 

He quickly opened the truck bed, and nearly threw you on to a dark blue wool blanket. You hit the bed hard, bringing a shock of pain that went up your back. Rafe ignored your cry, and climbed on top of you right away. He became the entire world to you, blocking out the sky and waves around you. He pushed your thighs apart with his hips, and rested himself between them as he kissed up your neck. Your fingers slid right into his slicked back hair, tangling in the roots and scratching his scalp. Fire rose up from under your skin, reaching your cheeks as it stirred your arousal. How could one person ignite your desires so easily? You would’ve thought he’d taken his time studying it when he looked at your old content. He set fire to you with only a few kisses and touches. But even Eve felt the same rush as she bit into the apple of knowledge. You sunk your teeth into a forbidden fruit, and wanted more of it. 

He brought you in for another kiss, a hand wandering up to your chest as he did so. Rafe lifted your flimsy halter top over your breasts, your bra turning into another annoying layer. You closed your eyes to savor the feeling of his lips crossing over the tops of them, making notes of the shape and warmth of his lips. They caressed the round curves, giving the supple flesh small bites while he gradually raised the bra over. You let out a small pleasurable gasp when he finally cupped them both, kissing over the pebbled nipples and softly sucking them. 

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he muttered against one, working his way to the center and flicking the very center. “They’re so soft,” he tugged one with his teeth, dealing out shots of pain and pleasure, “And they look so pretty with clamps on them.” He said this with his cocky smirk as he gave the other side the same treatment. “Maybe I’ll do it next time, hm? Would my slut like that?”

“Yes, sir,” you sighed, pushing your chest into his mouth for more of him. 

“Noted.”

This promise earned him a roll of your hips. His hard bulge poked your inner thigh through layers of cotton and denim, tempting you. You held onto his shoulders, fingers digging into them as you started sliding against it. The simple motion brought on heavy panting and soft whimpers. 

“I was told there’d be coke?” You asked playfully, pushing your chest out to his eager mouth. 

“Right here.”

He rifled in his pocket for the small balled up bag. Cocained wasn’t typically your drug of choice, but anything from Rafe was good with you. You watched him dump a small amount on your left breast, making a small line before putting his nostril to it. The brief inhale tickled you and you let out a soft giggle. Though, this was then covered by a moan when he licked the remaining residue which ended in another suck on your nipple. He snorted a second line on the other side, making sure to skip his tongue over the hard peak before handing you the bag. Switching positions, you lifted his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen and chest, mouth agape at the firm body underneath you. The movement caused his pants to sink down an inch past his waistline, revealing the tantalizing space above his groin. You teasingly unbuttoned the pair, his bulge sticking out from the opened zipper. 

“You want to see it that bad, huh?” he taunted, hands going under his head in a relaxed position. 

“Always.”

You sprinkled a bit on the indent of his v-line, the white powder just barely visible in the half light. You held a side of your nose down, then quickly inhaled the drug before the urge to breathe came. The harsh burn broke through your nostril, causing you to cough from the harshness going down. You knew it’d only take a few minutes to kick in for just one line, but this didn’t stop you from doing a second on the other side. Licking up what you left behind, you started groping the hard muscle poking your chin. Still semi-hard, it moved against the curve of your palm when you grabbed it. Rafe gave a contented sigh and even shifted when you rubbed the shaft starting to fully harden at your touch. The heat radiating through the boxers joined the spongy muscle pressing to your face, and you couldn’t help kissing up to the throbbing head. You continued stroking and kissing him through his underwear, a tang of saltiness seeping through after a while. The drug in your system started doing its euphoric magic, and seeing the bag with a little bit left, you knew you'd be taking more soon. 

The teasing brought Rafe to his boiling point, and your excitement soared. A hand sunk into your hair, roughly grabbing your head and yanking it away as he pulled his cock out for you. No lustful words. No warning. Not even a hasty, breathy command. Rafe pushed his tip to your lips and you instantly opened up. Your clit throbbed the moment the heavy, thick cock filled your mouth. You remained still to let him guide himself further in, moaning when the head reached the back of your throat. His thrusts started quickly right away, his moans filling the air when you greedily sucked on it. Each throbbing vein, every hard inch that passed your lips became slick with drool. You pictured the moment when he'd finally fill you with it, pumping hard and fast like that delicious first time. You thought about that more than anything else. The taste of him started leaking from the head in small beads, smearing on your tongue each time he pushed inward. You swallowed them, letting him feel the motion when he hit the back. Rafe moaned particularly loud at this, holding you to his pelvis to thrust in and out of your throat. Even when your jaw and cheeks began aching, you continued sucking him. 

He grunted when he pulled out, leaving strings of saliva and precum between you. It dribbled from your lips to your chin, falling to the cock right under you. He slapped his length on your face, wet spots dotting your cheek with every tap. You tried catching it somehow, tongue out with hopes of getting it again, but he kept it well out of reach. He chuckled at your weak attempts before sinking himself back into your mouth. You held onto his thighs as he pushed deep into your throat once more, holding you there despite your gagging and choking. 

“Let’s see how long you can hold it there,” he sneered, pulling you off to let you breathe before pushing you back onto him. You muffled his name, and he chuckled. “What was that? I can’t quite hear you.” You pretended to be pushing away from him, knowing he liked a little resistance sometimes. You protested once more, shaking your head before he forced you back to the base. “Huh? You want me to cu-cum d-down your throat?” he asked, panting softly as you tried withdrawing again. “Well, if that’s what you want.”

He let you back up, smiling at your harsh coughing and gasping. You knew your knees and throat would ache in the morning, but it’d be worth it. “Ra-Rafe,” you croaked, licking your swollen lips, “Please…”

“Give you my cum?” He finished, holding you by the chin now. “We can’t end the night without filling your holes with cum, can we?” 

“It h-hurts,” you made an attempt to escape his grasp. 

“But you wanted this,” he said, “It’s what sluts like you deserve.” 

He forced you back on him, guiding you regardless of your aching neck and body. “You’re going to regret making me wait for it like that,” he said, his muscles starting to tense and his grip on you tightening. “I…I fucking…fucking own you, bitch,” he went faster and you sucked harder, “You come to me when I tell you to. You don’t get to decide if we fuck or not, got it?” he forced you all the way down, “Got-Got it?”

You could only nod and let him keep going. Your body shivered with anticipation at what would happen next. It’s what you’d wanted since you saw him earlier. It was a craving that only Rafe could satisfy; a need only he supplied. Not a single thought broke through your mind as the droplets became thick ropes going down into your throat. More and more came out in every stroke, Rafe’s moans elongated and strained. You looked up at him, tears stuck on your lashes and spilling from your lower lash line, and swallowed. He finished with a final shudder, then took a minute more before finally releasing you. Your scalp aching, your jaw and cheeks worn out, you cleared your throat after swallowing the last of his cum. You’d begun taking off your shorts when he stopped you. 

“Nu-uh,” he shook his head, carefully rolling you onto your back, “You made me wait. Now you’re waiting too.”

You should have known he’d do this to you. He helped you out of the bed, and while you hoped for at least a kiss, you received nothing. Your body felt like it was on fire. The pressure remained, and even the light brush of your underwear made you tremble when you slid into the passenger’s seat. You knew he’d drive you back here in the morning for your car like before. You tried not wiggling too much nor thinking about what you wished he was doing as the truck started up. 

Rafe passed you a water bottle and a tissue, and you cleaned yourself up on your own. His taste still remained after you washed it down, and this only furthered your arousal. Yet, your thighs still clenched together when the slightest vibrations came from the seat. 

“Rafe,” you whined his name, desire causing you to lean back in the seat and show off your body to him, “I’m sorry I teased you. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, focused on the road. “You’re mine, and you know that. I let that movie shit slide because Topper’s too observant for his own good, but the texts? You know better.” 

“I only wanted to do it a little,” you pouted. You felt up his arm, wishing he’d take off his shirt again so you could feel every inch of him. You leaned into his ear, placing a delicate kiss on the outer edge, “Just enough so you’d wreck me when you got me alone.” 

Rafe bit his tongue in hopes of resisting the lips brushing a weak spot. You rested your hand on his lap and gave his inner thigh a light squeeze. Weeks of sleeping together taught you both each other’s sensitive points. You learned the special zones of his body; you studied them until you knew exactly what to do to turn him on. He did the same, knowing what spots turned you into putty in his hands. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve pounded my tight holes,” you continued, hand sliding up and down his muscled thigh. 

“Been busy,” he said firmly, though you heard him starting to falter. 

“Yeah, but you have stuff to jerk off to when you miss me,” you nuzzled his neck and kissed the curve of it. “I only have my imagination and videos where I can pretend it's you doing it to me.” 

“YN…” 

“I’m always at home, playing with my toys and wishing it was you,” you said, reaching his groin for a second. He’d just finished cumming, but here he was already getting hard. You loved that about him. You didn’t have to wait as long as with other guys. “I really like using the one you got me too. It’s just as big as you, and makes it easier to imagine you.” Your own dirty talk caused your sex to pulse in your panties. 

“That’s why I got it for you,” he said, coughing and making a turn back into town. You noticed he was heading north towards Figure Eight, and not The Cut. “What do you, um, think about?”

“Nothing particularly weird,” you shrugged, fingers dancing up and down his crotch. “Just you kidnapping me, taking me somewhere private and doing whatever you want with me.” You purposefully whimpered in his ear as you bit the earlobe softly. “You fucking me for as long as you want, muffling my screams with duct tape so nobody hears me begging you to stop…” Delicately, you took one of his hands and put it between your thighs. Automatically, he started returning your teasing movements, getting you to moan in his ear. “Thinking about you doing whatever you wanted to me gets me so wet, and I really mean that. Anything, Rafe. I want to be your special toy; a set of holes that are yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Fuck, you’re so dirty and horny,” he almost chuckled. 

“And you love it,” you said. 

“I do,” he confirmed, “I really do.” Long digits traced the inner seam of your shorts, focusing on where your clit was from time to time. You raised your hips for him to touch more, but as expected, he went at his own pace. “I’ve never done things like that with other girls. They’re always too prudish. Honestly, they all talk up a big game but once I get ‘too rough’ or ‘too weird’, they back out.” He looked over to you when he stopped at a red light, “But not you.” He gazed down to your chest, which you’d covered back up before getting into the car. “I could tell you to show me your tits right now and you’d do it.”

And you did, knowing an order when you hear one. This time, you completely removed your top and pulled your bra down, fully exposing his favorite part of you. Luckily, the streets were empty, so Rafe lingered at the light to stare at them without a problem. Cupping them, you whined at pinching and rolling your own nipples, unable to stop squirming from the arousal inside you. It elevated when Rafe grabbed one, brushing his thumb over the sensitive spot to hear you whimper again. 

“See?” he said, staring at your chest. “No other girl would do this for me.”

Neither of you mentioned how the subject of his blackmail material played a part in it. It started out that way: you only doing things to keep him from outing your internet persona to the whole town. But, as time went on, you started loving these little hookups. Rafe became the guy who fulfilled your every fantasy. You couldn’t picture yourself doing this with anyone else. He let go of you and continued driving. Since he never said otherwise, you kept playing with your breasts for him. Licking two of your fingers when he glanced your way, you stared at him as you rolled them around one of your nipples. The wetness made it harden, and you gave it a small tug between the two fingers. Being so exposed in a semi-public space only aroused you more; knowing any passerby might catch a glimpse through the windshield made you want more from him. Rafe liked public sex, especially if people happened to be nearby, and you never failed to indulge him.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered as you got closer to his neighborhood. 

One hand still teasing your tits, you unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts and pushed your hand inside. Finally getting some kind of contact, you let out a soft moan when your fingers slid over your moist lips. The velvety outside felt damp from the pooled juices in the middle; you only rubbed the folds around your hard clit, teasing the sweet pearl poking from under its hood. Rafe took deep breaths when he heard your moans, likely doing his best not to give into his desires right there in the car. You loved teasing him to the breaking point. The idea that only you could turn Rafe Cameron into a frustrated, horny mess stroked your pride a bit. Is this what Eve did upon seeing the serpent in the garden? Maybe she tempted him first. She might’ve desired more than the fruit of knowledge. Adam might have bored her, and she wanted something better, something different and erotic. You didn’t blame her. Every guy seemed so bland compared to Rafe. 

“Take those off,” he said, “And lean back.”

Shifting around, you only removed your shorts to show the drenched spot in your underwear. You continued sliding your fingers up and down your pussy, occasionally circling your clit to bring out the moans he craved. If any other guy asked this of you, you’d turn them down right away. They didn’t earn the privilege like Rafe did. Damn the evidence he had. Damn his empty threats. Rafe could burn it all and you’d still give yourself over to him. Once you had a bite of him, you simply could not stop. 

“You’re fucking drenched,” he breathed, swallowing the tightness in his throat. “Other girls I know act like they’re too good to suck me off, but here you are getting wet from just that.” He reached over and placed his hand over your own. You allowed him to guide you on your own pussy, shivering at the small amount of pressure he applied. “Why is that, I wonder?”

“Because I’m a slut,” you said, knowing what he wanted to hear. “A big slut that loves your cock.”

“Only my cock? Nobody else?”

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he smirked when you moaned at a particular spot, “No competition then.” 

He continued teasing you while he drove. By the time you reached Rafe’s house you were dripping and aching for him. When he parked, he took a moment to lean over to you. A loud moan broke through when he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples and sucked it. Your entire body lit up from his mouth and hand alone. Other guys had to go a lot to get you worked up these days, but Rafe did it as if it were second nature. 

“Little slut,” he said, tongue swishing over your nipple. “I bet you’d let me fuck you right here instead of on my bed inside.”

“That’s how turned on you make me,” you huffed, eyes closed as the overwhelming sensation took over. “I’d do it wherever you wanted,” your hand sunk into his hair again, “As long as I got to cum on your cock.” 

“I believe that,” he laughed, softly biting your nipple. “You’re so wet, you’re dripping down to your tight little ass.” 

He sucked your tits for a bit longer, then pulled away. You knew what to do without him asking. As he slid out of the driver’s seat, you fixed yourself back up. This time, when you opened the door and moved to get out, Rafe easily lifted you into his arms and set you on the ground. He held you for a moment, giving a long, passionate kiss before leading you into the house. His house, richly decorated and bigger than your own, was dead silent. Even if his parents and sister weren’t home, you knew his youngest sister, Wheezie, was. From what you’d heard from Rafe, the girl had ears like a bat and constantly listened in on other people’s conversations. If she knew anything important, she’d tell anyone who’d listen. Rafe told you Wheezie is the last person he’d want discovering you two. So, that was why you snuck past her room so silently. Rafe carefully opened his door, and let you get inside. 

Once there, Rafe gave into his desires and hungrily kissed you. Hands cupping your jaw, he worked your mouth open right away and brushed his tongue there. His kisses, sweet like honey with a hint of mint, broke your restraint and you nearly dragged him to his bed. Rafe didn't make you wait. He didn't continue his teasing or whisper more filthy talk in your ear. He placed you on top of a stack of pillows, and undid his own pants. Holding up your knees, you let him fold you as he pushed inside. That delicious release spreads through you, bringing out bouts of pleasure and relief. The moment he reached the end, he gave you exactly what you needed. All the build up to this moment exploded within you, and you balled up his sheets just to stay grounded. No drug beat the euphoric, blissful, near magical feeling Rafe gave you. His girth stretched and sunk deep in every thrust, pushing on the very center of your body. When you began moaning above a whisper, he put his hand over your mouth and laid down over you. This changed his angle, and the restriction took you closer to the edge.

“Shut up,” he said harshly, “Or I stop.”

‘Please, Rafe, don't. Not now when I finally have you inside me,’ is what you would have said if he didn't have his hand over your mouth. 

It didn't take much to have you shaking under him. With deep, hard, fast pushes, Rafe untangled you. Every coherent thought in your head was blown away by the hard orgasm. Your body clung to his by his waist and shoulders, urging him to get closer and go even deeper. 

“Gonna…Gonna cum inside,” he grunted in your ear. When you shook your head, as you did at times, he nodded. “Yeah, Yeah I am because this hole is mine. I get to do whatever I want with it….whatever I want…as much as I-I-I-oh fuck! Oh god!”

Rafe's dick twitched and you soon felt hot cum shoot inside you. You held onto his tense arms, nails making crescents on his skin and scratching as he kept going. Even as you felt him soften, he didn't stop right away. His pelvic bone brushing your clit, the sparks of sensitivity had you wriggling around like a worm. He wasn't done. He never really was when it came to this. Standing upright, he pulled off his shirt, withdrawing from you for a few moments. 

You admired the body he worked hard to keep in shape, eager to run your hands all over him. He was beautiful. He was cruel, perverted, brutal and beautiful. Yet, as they say, even Lucifer was beautiful once. 

Both of you fully undressed, he rested against his pillows and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands instantly glued to him, wandering his naked chest and arms while you kissed his neck. Grinding on him, your lips went across his collarbone to his shoulder, then from his neck to his ear. The soft moans his cock produced became all Rafe heard, while his own vibrated into your neck. Your sex slid up his shaft, sometimes hitting the tip if you went far enough. This made the head brush the underside of your clit, urging and tempting it for another round. Yes, a sting of pain came with it, but you loved it. However, you’ll always say something different. 

“Rafe,” you said, putting on that sweet, innocent tone he liked, “Stop, it's too much.”

“You can take it,” he assured you, reaching down to grab your ass. “Sluts like you take dick every day. It's all you're good at,” he smacked a cheek hard, “It's all you know how to do.”

“But it's sensitive right now,” you cried when the head slid over your clit once more. 

“Oh, is it?” 

“Yes.”

He tossed you onto your back right away, taking the air out of you. You laid sprawled between his legs, your lower half completely exposed to him. 

“You say this here is sensitive right now?” He asked, his thumb already working your clit. He smirked when you twisted to the touch, moaning his name. “Hm?”

“Yes!” You cried though tried to keep it down. You’d lose your mind if Wheezie walked in, curious and nosey. 

“And you want me to stop?”

“Yes, please!”

“The thing is that I don't want to stop,” he groaned, spreading his cum and your essence over you. “You look so cute when I’m overstimulating you.” He drooled over your sopping pussy, and rubbed it into your folds, “Plus, you know the rules, we stop when I want to.”

“Raf-”

He covered your mouth again, then began rapidly rubbing it. Three fingers went side to side, causing small pangs to go through your body. An obscene slick sound came from your combined juices coming together inside you. Rafe occasionally spat on it, making it even wetter. This sent you spiraling, and you found it hard to stay quiet now. He didn't care about your bucking hips or the nails scratching down his legs. Your tormentor focused on bringing you to another orgasm with only his hands. His tongue soon joined, lapping at your clit and entrance while you did your best to control your volume. Once he sunk two fingers into you, it was over. You came undone on his hand and face, trembling and muttering his name in between pleas to stop. 

“Rafe, Rafe,” you panted his name, but he cut you off. 

“Ride me.”

He brought you onto his lap once more, this time burying himself in your soaked cunt. You didn't hesitate to start bouncing on him. You both shared a deep kiss, moaning into each other's mouths as you became one again. How many apples did Eve have? It couldn't have been just the one. Not when temptation came in the form of a Greek god like Rafe. He grabbed and smacked one side of your bottom while he grabbed your tits. It was as if he had no clue what to touch, just knowing he wanted you. It didn't take you much longer to cum, once again sent over the edge despite your waning energy. Rafe took a bit more after two orgasms back to back, but you greedily accepted the third on your stomach and chest when he did finish. 

Satiated for the night, Rafe wiped you down himself before settling next to you. The tenderness that came after always created butterflies in your stomach. Wrapped up in his arms, you listened to his slow breathing as he drifted to sleep. Your own exhaustion crept over you, only waking when you felt his hand go to your chest. He examined the small rose shaped charm, holding it between two fingers. 

“I didn't think you'd ever wear it,” he said groggily. 

“Why?”

“Questions.”

“I got some, but I said my parents saved for it to be a graduation gift.”

“And they believed that?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Good,” he said, “It looks nice on you.” 

Neither of you had to say anything. Rafe might say ‘you’re mine’ the way a master says to their slave, but this wasn’t that. At least, you hoped so. Lord, you actually hoped this guy, who is blackmailing you into a secret relationship, truly feels something for you. Why? Why did you care what he felt for you? You should hate him for doing this to you. He is making you lie to your friends and family about you two. Him holding this secret over your head is wrong, and him forcing you to sleep with him is cruel. Yet, you found it hard to feel that way at times. Like right now, when you’re resting in his arms after being satisfied by him, listening to him fade into his dreams. When he’s vulnerable and sensitive, opening up to you in ways he won’t with others feels more intimate than sex. You imagined he usually kicks girls out when he’s finished, but here he is clinging to you as if you’ll float away. A snake trapping its prey in its grasp. A serpent beckoning a young maiden over, offering an apple that would give her freedom and knowledge. The Devil seeing a beautiful woman and wanting her all for himself; no longer interested in defying God, but instead desiring His greatest creation. It made you feel special, even if it wasn’t real. 

But, the tiniest part of you hoped it was. 

****

A/N: heeeyy guys! Looks like things might start getting more serious, hm? Who knows? Hope you guys liked it, shoot me a comment or an ask if you're bad enough, or reblog and like <3

[moriwood]

flavor of the month but jay bottoms? 👀

hope ur still here more than a year later babe (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Last Meal — p.js

btm!park jongseong x top!male reader angsty smut 1.7k words

When Mayor Jay gets exposed for embezzlement and prostitution, you, his favorite escort, must escape the lavish life he provided. On the night of your planned escape, he crashes into your apartment, leading to a cathartic final encounter that strangely mirrors the beginning of your relationship. Sequel to Flavor of the Month (p.js) and Stealing the Spotlight (k.sn + p.js). Can be read on its own.

includes: mayor jay is in major trouble with the police! it’s your time to punish him for fucking around~ warning: gunplay (you make him suck a loaded gun, to be clear), !!NONCON!!

Park Jongseong, the current Mayor of Seoul more popularly referred to as Mayor Jay, failed to appear in court today for a scheduled inquiry into allegations of embezzling 50 billion KRW in public funds. The case escalated after financial documents were anonymously leaked online, which reveal suspicious transactions—including multi-billion-won transfers to Kim Heechul, a prominent restaurateur operating in the Itaewon District. Whistleblower KSN claims that Kim’s establishments are being used as fronts for illicit prostitution operations. Supporting their claim, our team was sent exclusive images allegedly depicting the mayor inside one of Kim’s yet-to-be-identified venues. 

Grainy photos flash on the TV screen: Jay slipping Heechul an envelope, Jay pouring a bottle of vodka over himself, a half-naked passed out Jay with a thong on his face.

You’re in a rush, shoving whatever you can into a duffel bag in the lavish Gangnam apartment that Jay bought you. These designer clothes, expensive jewelry—every bit of it from the pockets of Jay. Well, pockets of taxpayers, really. You have to leave before you get caught in the crossfire.

You wonder who could have exposed him. A rival politician who spotted him slinking through Heechul’s backrooms? A campaign aide with a grudge? Or someone like you, a pawn of Heechul who finally snapped? It doesn’t really matter, does it? All that matters is Jay stole from the people and they’re now hunting the places where the money went to.

The front door crashes open. Your heart lurches, expecting policemen, but it’s Jay who stumbles into the foyer. His suit’s crumpled, necktie gone, hair disheveled, eyes wild in bloodshot. In his trembling hand is a pistol, glinting like the marble floor. He sways, pointing it at you.

“You did this,” he accuses, stepping closer. “You sold me out. You betrayed me.”

You drop the bag, hands steady despite the mounting panic. “Me?” you retort, voice sharp, stepping toward him. “I had everything to lose. This new life I got is all because of you. Why the hell would I rat you out?”

He laughs, unhinged, waving the gun erratically. “Don’t lie to me. You—you wanted revenge. I’m the last tether to your ugly past. You never loved me; you hated hiding—” He pauses, eyes flickering with something like guilt. “Two bullets,” he simply states. “One for you, one for me. Let’s end this together.”

What a twisted vow. You take another step, closing the distance, gaze locked on his. “I said I was fine hiding; I said I’d stop working for Heechul just for you. It’s you who couldn’t stop running back to Heechul’s business when I left it long ago.”

His face twists, enraged. He lunges, grabs your arm and presses the gun against your chest. You instinctively wrestle for control. He’s stronger, but he’s drunk, sloppy, and uncoordinated. In the struggle, his grip falters, and his finger grazes the trigger.

Jay yelps as a bullet buries itself in the ceiling, cowering in fear. Plaster rains down, dusting your shoulders. Seizing his shock, you wrench the gun from his sweaty grasp, shoving him back. He stumbles and trips over his own feet, landing hard on his ass on a Persian rug. 

You step forward, looming over him, presssing the barrel to his lips. “So,” you growl, “there’s one bullet left. And if there were still two, it should be you who goes first, right? You stole from the city, not me.”

His eyes widen, tears welling, the once-charismatic mayor reduced to a sniveling shell. He was all that not so long ago, a hand on your thigh as he promises you everything in the world. You lean closer, gun steady, as you whisper, “Look at you. So proud throwing money around, getting whatever you wanted. And now? You’re about to lose it all.”

He whimpers against the cold metal and you feel a twisted satisfaction bloom in your chest. You tilt your head, studying him—the quivering chin, the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his hands fall uselessly at the rug. For some reason, the sight of Jay so broken and small stirs something in you.

“Suck it,” you order. “Suck it like it’s my cock.”

His breath hitches, eyes pleading. He’s shaking like a dog in cold rain, searching for mercy.

“Suck!” you snap, shoving the barrel forward, forcing it past his lips. The metal clicks against his teeth and he yields, lips parting to take it in, a choked sound escaping. The sight is grotesque, humiliating, and you revel in it; this singular experience of Jay is nothing to the shit you’ve gone through under Heechul’s business. “Touch yourself,” you taunt. “Show me how filthy you are.”

He fumbles with his belt, slipping a hand into his pants. His breathing quickens as he strokes himself, gun still in his mouth. A photo of him in this position could net you millions, but the whistleblower is probably withholding more incriminating material. His eyes flutter shut, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“You love this, don’t you? Having us kneel, bend down for you. Made you feel so superior, when really, you’re this pathetic little bitch,” you whisper. You drag the barrel in and out, the gun’s weight as heavy as any hard cock. One twitch of your finger, and his life ends. The easy route, you’d say, albeit an ending with the worst consequences.

Jay moans, hand moving faster in his pants, cock visibly straining against the fabric. He bucks forward, chasing some kind of release. You slide the gun deeper, nudging the back of his throat and he gags. You grip his hair with your free hand, yanking his head back to force him to look at you; Jay looks at you with terror in his eyes.

“Should’ve been me only,” you murmur, pulling the gun away, letting it clatter across the floor.

You haul him up and shove him to the bed, the chandelier’s light painting him like an abused object of worship. He resists weakly, mumbling, “Stop—” but you silence him with a bruising kiss, teeth clashing until you taste blood. You tear at his shirt, buttons flying away like his shattering ego.

Jay groans to the cold air, in pain and surrender, and you yank his pants down, exposing him. His cock is hard, twitching with precum beading at the tip, pleasure so obvious even in the sickest of situations. You pause, letting the moment stretch. It’s a subtle chance for him to pull away, to scramble to the door and still leave with whatever dignity he has left. But he doesn’t move, vacant eyes locked onto yours.

“Hard for me, even now. You’re disgusting,” you mutter as you play with his cock. He mewls and tips his head back.

You strip off your jeans, leaving your shirt on. He follows every moment, hungry despite the fear. He still wants you, and you hate how much you thrive on this power; it’s a polar opposite to the days when you were the one bending to your clients’ whims.

You kneel between his legs, slicking your fingers with spit, impatient. You press a finger inside, and he cries out, body arching. “All those billions to Heechul and no one’s touched you here?” you chuckle. You add a second finger, curling them enough to make him clutch the bedsheets. You thrust deep and slow, drawing out the burn, and he sobs. Spit isn’t enough.

Jay’s scrabbling hands land on your duffel and he whispers, barely audible, “You’re leaving?”

You ignore him, pulling your fingers out. Instead, you coat your cock with spit and prod it against his hole. Jay gasps, tensing at the pushing pain. Desperate, he tries again, “I know a place in the Philippines—We could hide—”

You thrust, cutting him off as he whimpers. You wrap your hand around his jaw. “I’m not leaving with you,” you snarl. His legs shake, and you grip his thighs to keep them spread wide. “You’re nothing without your money,” you coldly say. “Am I wrong?”

He sobs, voice cracking, “I’m worthless.”

You grunt, slamming into him harder, the wet slap of sweaty skin echoing. His body jolts as he moans shamefully, his hard cock bobbing as more precum leaks in a steady drip.

“Don’t cum yet,” you warn, squeezing his cock painfully. “You haven’t earned it.”

You adjust your angle to hit that spot inside him. His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent scream. You thrust deeper, faster, watching Jay unravel into a mumbling mess. He cries and he wails, hole clenching around you.

“Wanna cum?” you taunt, pinching his nipple until he squirms. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I’m sorry—”

“Louder!” you growl, pounding into him faster.

“Please!” he cries. “Please let me cum—”

You let go of his cock and he convulses, hands desperately holding on to you. He cums with a strangled cry, untouched, his warm seed spilling in thick spurts across his stomach and chest. You keep thrusting, relentless, chasing your own release. Jay continues to whimper, soft and so broken. Lost in the unwanted stimulation, his eyes have gone glassy, tear-streaked face contorted.

You pull out abruptly, and stand, gripping his hair in a fist. He gasps as you yank him forward. He kneels and sits on his feet, face forced to your cock. You jerk yourself fast, the sight of him fueling the fire in your veins.

“Open,” you growl. He follows, tongue trembling as he shamefully wants to please you.

You thrust shallowly into his mouth as you hold onto his head, your girth making him gag. Saliva drips down his chin as he anchors himself to your thighs.

“Mayor Jay, choking on a lowly boytoy’s cock, covered in his own filth,” you grunt. “What a fucking headline, right?”

His response is muffled to a moan, a mere vibration to your cock. With a guttural groan, you cum, hot and thick down his throat. He flinches but doesn’t pull away, letting what can’t be swallowed drip down his chin.

You release him and he slumps forward, catching himself on his hands. His cock has gone soft yet it still drips weakly. You step back, wiping yourself with one of the shirts you were taking away.

You swiftly fix yourself up, Jay still lost to the aftermath of his final encounter with you. You grab your duffel and zip it up.

“One bullet left,” you say, devoid of any sympathy. “If you want out, you know what to do.”

author’s note: i think i went way too overboard with this one i apologize, i think i need to go back to the fluffy ficssss bUT WITH THE DESIRE UNLEASH TEASERS LOOKING VERY MMMMMMMMMMMMM they must be going with something darker and more sultry this era right?!?!? cuz wdym can't touch you, but i'm gonna make you mine??????

— moriwood.

[strawberrystepmom]

izuku x f!reader. reader is referred to as wife, he is referred to as husband, reader has a defined and briefly mentioned career. wife guy deku compilation indeed.

Hey, have you seen this?

Your screen lights up with a text message from one of your closest friends, another message with a link to a video following quickly after and you tilt your head to the side at your desk reading the title of the video.

“Deku Wife Guy Compilation”

It makes you chuckle to see these terms stitched together, something that would probably not make much sense to your blissfully offline-as-he-can-be husband, but you understand what it means and press the link to open the video. It takes a moment to load and you jiggle your foot impatiently as it does, abandoning what you were last working on to focus as he comes onto the rectangle screen.

“My wife is the best,” filters through your phone speakers as clear as day and you smile despite yourself, the familiar butterflies you get every time you look at him blooming beneath your ribs.

“First of all, I want to thank my wife.”

“My wife is the true savior in our household, she’s a doctor…”

“My beautiful ____, my wife, my heart.”

“None of this would be possible without my wife so please give her a hand.”

It’s a three minute video stitching together every time he has mentioned you in victory speeches and press interviews and the like and it makes you wonder what people could be saying. You’re no stranger to running into the stray hater online yet you scroll down to the comments section, eyes widening when you see it filled with nothing but admiration for the strong foundation of love your marriage is built upon.

iluvchargebolt: man, i hope i’m loved like this someday :’)

momospantyliner: The way his eyes light up when he says her name at 0:48…beautiful.

Allmightisalright07: Reminds me of how i used to talk about my wife when she was still with us. They are certainly soulmates.

In comparison to other comment sections you’ve scanned in the past, this one makes you feel very warm in comparison and you feel the need to look away after being perceived by so many people who don’t even know you. Izuku’s love is so evident for you even strangers see it from a mile away, they can hear it in the soft way his tongue caresses your name like he’s kissing you every time he says it.

You put your phone down and turn back to your work, letting the video play over the speaker just to hear his voice when your screen lights up again and vibrates on top of your desk. Another text from the same friend, another link.

There are 10 of these omg

Another link pops up on your screen in a blue bubble, this time to a playlist containing videos in the same fashion as the first. Deku Wifeguy Compilation 1-10. Giggling to yourself, you press play and let the playlist run, each video growing in length with the shortest at 3 minutes and the longest at just over 10, your eyes widening realizing that he loves you so much there are videos worth of him simply stating it over and over and over again.

The same compulsion that led you to check the comments section on the first video takes over and you decide to pause the playlist and read, scanning the comments for anything you could potentially use as fodder to be angry about later.

shotopleasereturnmycalls: damn…i really am single.

Redriotsarmpithair9680: Love like this is rare. So glad our beacon of hope has a safe place to land after he’s done keeping us safe <3

You don’t dare to go any further lest you do see something you won’t like, keeping the video paused and locking your phone to set it aside and reflect. It’s strange to live a life so public and private all at once, hiding some parts and sharing the others, but you’re grateful the most consistent thing about Izuku is that he has never wanted to do anything but shine his light on you, to make you the spotlight of his world and everything about him.

Abruptly you pick your phone up and slide the screen upward, the messages app filling your screen. You click out of the thread with your friend and into the one with Izuku and you type out three simple words, the ones that you feel all day every day.

You: I love you.

Miles away, he looks down at his phone screen and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, scrunching his nose, freckles barely visible thanks to the low light and bad angle but it’s all him - silly and sweet and sincere. He sends it off with the three simple words he feels about you in return, all day every day.

Izuku: I love you too, my perfect wife.

[sirfrogsworth]

I have a favorite photo.

It's the one I am most proud of.

It involved a lot of luck, but also required a lot of effort to capture.

I use it as the header for this Tumblr.

It was a foggy morning and I thought it looked spooky. My instincts were telling me I could get a unique image. I dragged out my lighting equipment and had Otis roam around in the yard. I set up my shot in an area I knew he would pass by. I didn't have wireless flash triggers yet, so I was using the little flash on top of my camera to trigger my big flash. But that doesn't work great outside. Typically it is meant to bounce off walls and ceilings so the external flash can see the light. I was trying to use a tiny mirror in front of my little flash to direct the light towards the big flash. But I kept getting the angle wrong and my flash was only firing once every few shots. I also kept missing focus as I was concentrating on too many things at once.

By all accounts, it would take a miracle to get the shot.

I should not have gotten a good shot.

But for one single frame... the fog, the sun, Otis, and my flash all cooperated.

I didn't even realize my efforts had worked until I loaded the files onto the computer. And the second this image popped onto my screen, my jaw dropped.

Up until this point I had never captured an image of this quality before. This was very early in my photography journey and I was still figuring things out. And I think seeing what was possible—what I was actually capable of capturing—that was the moment I was all in. The moment I wanted to be a "real" photographer.

This is the RAW file. The side of his face was a bit dark, but that is why you shoot in RAW. That is recoverable.

This is my original edit in 2013. The biggest thing that bothered me was the ear tips. I always wish I hadn't cut those off.

But thankfully technology has advanced enough that I can give Otis his full ears back.

And here is the remastered 2024 edition...

I used other images as reference to make sure the ear shape and size was perfect. And I also used another image of his Super Otis badge facing forward and comped that in.

Otis has a very specific shade of orange fur and it is very sensitive to editing. If you make him brighter, the orange changes to the wrong orange. If you make him darker, same thing. But I am hopeful I got that lovely orange fur pretty close to his actual coat.

I don't know if I would have fallen in love with this artform without this image. Or without Otis. He gave me so much in his short time in this world. I can never thank him enough for that.

[halfbaked00q]

So I was looking at that image of Q's workshop, and you know what I realized? Every single time we see this man in his own space every possible surface is absolutely loaded with books, but other than a fic *I wrote* I have never, even once, read a fic where he references any of said books. Ever. Nobody ever acknowledges Q's giant library.

see, conversely, I feel like I've seen a goodly amount of Q x books in the fandom. like from what I've seen/remember, I have this like pre-existing/established sense of it being a whole trope of, like, "for all that at work he's The Tech Guy, he has a soft spot for the classics," or else it's shades of, like, I get enough of screens at work and there's something to be said about physical media, etc.

off the top of my head there's a fic where Bond goes to (break into?) Q's flat and sees all his books and remarks on it saying sth about like, seems rather analog (can only vaguely remember this but I feel like analog was the specific term he used, I just remember finding the specific exchange rather charming), and they have that exhange. there's one fic where Bond... maybe is injured and recovering or sth? but basically Q hands him a book he just got on preorder and is like here read this, and Bond is like, already read it. And Q is like, how. I just got this on preorder, and Bond is like, I have a friend in publishing- why did you even bother preordering? it's not like it's a bestseller. and then Q is like, fine help yourself to my library. and Bond is like. read it all already. and Q is like. .what do you mean you read it all already. and then Q realizes that Bond must have. spent rather a lot of time breaking into & hanging out in his flat before... and there's one fic where Q is into trashy spy novels which Bond steals & returns having written pithy notes in the margin(s) of (to Q's displeasure).

but yeah I do feel like it's A Thing for Q to have an extensive library. esp of the classics such as Dickens and Austen, and then like LotR and stuff, and definitely sometimes with various textbooks and things too (I def remember at least one fic where Bond is in Q's flat & his pov notes the textbooks on various subjects all over)

[juliasmesmerized]

Video Games

pairings: Josh Washington x F!Reader, Chris Hartley x Ashley Brown (Until Dawn) type: fluff, too deep into the friendship, mutual pining, subtle flirting summary: Josh and Chris have gaming nights as the only 'geeks' in the group. Chris and Ashley got together and she found out of this 'secret'. Since they knew nobody else would be interested they didn't invite anyone and they knew nobody would care for it regardless. Ashley tells you about it and you join Chris's party and surprising them both. AU: sister's never disappeared, all of them are university students now too. vibes intended: cherry flavored - The Neighbourhood (I personally listen to Odetari when playing competitive games such as Overwatch which will be reference to the video game they'll be playing.) for the best experience: unfortunately we lost interactivefics, but there's another chrome extension called word replacer II; I recommend using it to have this be read in the way it was intended. I will have this on my masterlist at some point, but for now this'll be a disclaimer on every post I make. I hear when people say it breaks the immersion when using y/n and such, but I use the extension above and it gets me more excited to read. hopefully, with this, people can enjoy this piece of work and other y/n works. (i can also make a you / y/n-less version, but i just prefer seeing my name for DR purposes) word count: 2944 part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chris booted up his computer to get into his and Josh's untimely tradition of playing video games until dawn. Their current fixation stands tall to be a five versus five shooter with each character having unique abilities and are divided into three ranks. Each team has one tank, two damage dealers, and two supports. Chris is a serious tank main while his main damage dealer teammate would be Josh. Josh may sometimes switch it up by taking up the other roles, but it was clear which one was his favorite.

Chris's phone buzzed; the screen lit up to reveal a new-found message from his gaming buddy, Josh. The chat log reads:

Josh: still up for the matches? Chris: yeah im just turning the game on Josh: ok cool i thought maybe bc ash was with u you'd forget Chris: nah bro we had a plan ill stick to it Josh: that tight bod bro, bro we're gonna lose u to it Chris: i dont have a raging libido like u josh Josh: u wound me

As soon as the game loaded up, an invite from Josh immediately popped up on the top part of the screen. He accepted and as soon as the voice chat system on the game connected he could hear screaming on the other side: "YEEEEEEAAAH!" Their names pop up on the left side corner of the screen with a speaker graphic to symbolize them speaking.

Chris's expression turned quizzical, "Josh?" the username 'c0destopher' perked up on the screen while the username 'washingmachine' never left.

Josh, still excited for having his winding down time, kept going. "We're finally doing this since we've been buried under exams. They're OVER! Let's get this party started!"

Josh chose the role queue option which allows players to pick their ranks ahead of time which ensures better play experience as everyone enters the match knowing what they want is given. Chris, without taking much time confirmed only tank. Josh decided on all roles, and since Chris was only tank, he only had the chance to be a damage dealer or support.

Chris's door swings open. Ashley, who was too engrossed in her phone, began to speak. "Hey Chris, I'm going out to the store to get something I'd need for the-" She looks up to realize the dark atmosphere with his computer screaming RGB lights that lit the room in an unnatural way. "You playing with Josh?"

His heart sank from her sudden entrance, but regained his composure. "Yeah Ash, he could still hear us if you wanna say hi." Ashley took him up on his offer and took the headphones off of Chris. She held one ear pad up to her ear to not ruin her hair, but still be able to hear Josh.

Ashley smiled as he greeted her. "What's up Josh?" Chris couldn't actually hear what Josh was telling her, the muffled sounds were whisked away by his thoughts overwhelming him. It'd only been a while back he confessed to Ashley and she excitedly accepted to be his girlfriend. It still feels surreal to him. She tucked her hair behind the free ear and began speaking once more.

"That's good, I'm well. You do this often?" Her eyes looked up unintentionally, as to focus on the conversation. She slightly nods her head from time to time.

She tilted her head and hummed before speaking. "Well, I just wanted to see if Chris wanted anything from the store." Chris's eyes were locked onto her facial features, the way she moved, and her cute mannerisms when she's talking to somebody on the phone.

She keeps nodding out of nowhere and he could hear Josh stopping to allow her to speak. "Oh! I'm getting some stuff I need for my hair, and also some snacks. I forgot some things I needed."

Josh's muffled voice perked up and Chris could hear him going on about the match about to begin. Ashley responds immediately. "The game's starting? I'll get you back to Chris." She places the headphones back on for him, trying her best not to hurt him. The character selection screen opens, but Chris looks back at Ashley as she leaves the room.

Before she closes the door after herself, she peered into the room once more. "I’ll get you some snacks, anything else?" He nods sweetly to her and she smiles and closes the door.

She got her coat from the hanger and wore it. With her purse on her shoulder, Ashley left the apartment and locked the door behind her. She placed her key in her purse, and took out her phone from her pocket. She messaged y/n asking to call her.

A few moments later, her phone rang to see a call premeditated by her own message asking for it. “You won’t believe what I just saw!” Ashley giddly spoke to the phone. She pressed the button to the elevator to signal it to open on her floor.

Her friend responded on the other side. “What happened?”

“I just saw Chris and Josh playing the game you like! This is your moment! Surprise them and join them!”

y/n audibly gasped. “What?! They used to bully me about it all the time!”

y/n continued on, this time mocking Josh’s words to her when talking about the game she liked. “Call Of Duty is the better of the competitive games and not that hero rainbow bullshit!” Her voice went sarcastically deeper and had a few ‘blah blah blah’s splattered around it.

Ashley left the elevator to walk outside. The wind gushing through her as she left the complex. “I know! That’s why I got so shocked, I thought you’d love to know that they got into it so you could tease back. Especially, Josh. I didn’t show that I cared too much so they wouldn’t suspect a thing!”

She took some time to think it through before responding. “I don’t think I should even if I want to show them for teasing me and then playing it. If I wasn’t invited then it’d look bad on me to join their group.”

“Oh come on, y/n. We both know they wouldn’t mind you playing, they didn’t invite you because it’d look badly on them for teasing you about the same game they got themselves into. I even got Chris’s username memorized for you.”

y/n relented and gave in to Ashley’s plan. “Alright why not. I’m down to cause a little bit of chaos.”

“I’ll send you everything right now.” Ashley closed the phone and looked ahead of her to cross the street. She arrived at the grocery store and went inside to escape the cold. Once inside, she opened her phone once more. Ashley spilled out everything she remembered, hoping it’d suffice.

Ashley: c0destopher#5576 y/n: thats actually so geeky Ashley: i know its so stupid y/n: birds of a feather, your username on goodreads reminds me of the one he has on the game Ashley: dont compare me to that when im doing u a favor to get closer to josh y/n: aye aye captain y/n: i friend requested him Ashley: im sure he accepts everyone y/n: and that u are right ab bc he accepted me right away Ashley: ok ill go focus on doing what i have to do update me whenever ill read when i can y/n: okay thanks ash i will let u know how it goes, stay safe

She booted up the game as she friend requested him on the mobile app. Unsurprisingly on Chris's account, it shows a new button: 'join group' and y/n had a long and hard moment of clarity set in that she's going to have to face Josh if she entered. Her face felt warmer, not that they were anything special, but he was special. She regretted relenting to Ashley's plans due to the trouble she went through getting the information to her.

She took a deep breath and entered their group. The bottom left corner displays a party chat message: unforgettable has joined the group.

Josh, not realizing the message, spoke up. "Yeah I think out of the group, y/n stands out the most, you know? The only person that has playful banter back towards me within the group from the girls. Jess and Em both would do the same, but they're too into their boyfriends so they act like they're untouchable. Sam likes to ensure I wouldn't get hurt which is sweet, but it ruins the fun. Like you could tell she's holding back for my sake."

She, who obviously entered a conversation which shouldn't be privy to her, shoved a palm onto her mic to mute it which showed her name with the speaker graphic. She didn't waste time in messaging Ashley.

y/n: I dun goofed. Ashley: what?

Chris realized first that a message showed up in their party chat that isn't accounted for and the voice chat had a third person suddenly. "Wait who is that?" She could see him using his charge attack to stun his enemy into a wall to kill them. When a friend joins a party in an ongoing game, the leftover friend spectates the match. The chat still open on her phone, y/n stayed quiet to just see the chaos begin to brew and to text Ash.

y/n: I seriously fucked up. Ashley: you gotta explain EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!

Josh took a look and was at a loss. "I dunno. Did you invite them?" Josh was playing a character with double shotguns, and his character needed to creep near enemies to deal serious damage. Typical shotguns.

y/n: he didn't realize i heard him neither of them did?????? Ashley: STOP BEING CRYPTIC WHATS GOING ON??????

"No, did you?" Chris, even if nobody could see, shook his head due to habit. His character slashed his hammer at the enemy tank, dealing some okay output, but the reason for this is to create space for his team to do the damage. She realized this quite quickly.

y/n: WELL i listened to u and joined them and i joined them as josh was talking about the girls and he spoke about me saying i was the only one that stood out to him between all the girls since i give and take in his banter with us. Ashley: OMG? THEN WHAT?

Josh answered his question and was about to say something else, "no," but Chris remembered something.

y/n: heres where i fucked up, yk my mic has an external mute button where placing a palm on it would mute? Ashley: yeah so?

He spoke up. "Oh! They added me a few minutes back and I accepted." Score, he remembered her, but didn't realize who she was. She thought to herself. Josh was getting ready to use his 'ultimate' ability since he charged it to the max. y/n got more focused into the conversation with Ashley that her fingers were going to reach the speed of light.

y/n: well i kinda sorta fucked up by being so nervous after i heard what i heard that i literally kind of slapped the top part where the palm was supposed to go and they heard it and realized i was there Ashley: GIRL WHAT SO THEY DIDNT REALZE YOU HEARD THEM OHMYGDOS???? y/n: YUP IMAGINE WHAT THE HELL? Ashley: SO CHRIS KNOWS THIS ENTIRE TIME THAT JOSH THINKS YOIURE SPECIAL NAND NEVER TOLD ME? THE AUDAXITY OF THAT MAN y/n: WHAT LOL?

Josh chuckled a bit. "Why do you accept randos?" He hid on the roof of a high building on the map, then jumped down and used his ability which sent bullets in a good radius in a circular motion, killing three members of the enemy team. He was shot in the head by the enemy sniper after, and thought for a second as he respawned in game. "Kick them out?"

y/n: HES TELLING CHRIS TO KICK ME OUT Ashley: NONONONO ITS GETTING GOOD

Chris didn't skip a beat. "Sure alright."

y/n: YOUR BOYFRIENDS A BASTARD HE SAID SURE TO KICKING ME?? Ashley: SAY SOMETHING OF COURSE THEY DON'T KNOW ITS YOU y/n: OK GTG BGYE

Ashley was right. y/n had to speak up now or forever hold her peace. "WAITWAITWAIT! It's just me." She peeped as if she was a criminal, but all she did was join her friends.

Josh perked up, things were getting interesting. "y/n?"

"The one and only." Her voice getting a little more confident over time.

Chris was absolutely on edge. "How'd you get my username? What? We hid this from you for months!"

"I know! Ash told me about you guys playing. How about Call of Duty being the best game on the market for these types of games?"

Chris got defensive, he didn't belittle her for her choice of games. "Hey, I didn't say that." If anything, Chris sees himself as the most understanding in that aspect. All games could be fun if done right and with the right people.

Josh, sounding sarcastically defeated, sounded like he was raising his hands to surrender himself to y/n's beck and call. "I didn't think the game would be this addictive!"

"I'm officially inviting myself to join you." She continued, she liked how she got Josh back for belittling her.

They could hear the smile come up his face. "Our group is yours, y/n." Josh said.

Chris knew exactly what he was doing. "You couldn't have come at a better time, y/n, we were just talking about romance." He was hoping Josh would take the reins to say something witty.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked against the screen. "Romance, huh? Tell me about it, Josh. We're all friends, right?"

Josh quickly regained his composure after Chris kind of just outed him. "Chris is overdramatizing it. We were just talking about the group and our opinions on everyone."

"Yeah, right." Chris rolled his eyes.

Josh also rolled his eyes at him, he knew he was going to get him for this later. She spoke up which redirected them both back to the conversation. "Oh? What're his opinions Chris?"

Chris spoke up. "I can't share on behalf of somebody else, dear lady."

"Josh?" y/n called out into the cyber void that is their online voice chat. Their game has finally ended now, they queued up for another match where y/n also chose all roles like Josh.

The queue waiting time has begun, and Josh sighed; unsure if he should reveal the truth, but he did anyway. He didn't understand why he wanted to be honest with her even if he could've easily lied. "I was just saying how Emily and Jessica create barriers with the guys after getting boyfriends, it's not the same as before."

y/n nodded. "Mhm... And Ash and Sam?" She heard this story before, but to avoid suspicion, she decided to ask and follow what Chris might've set up.

Josh continued, the conversation being tame enough for him to ride the wave without falling off the board or having to admit something that was specifically between him and Chris. "Sam is a pacifist, we all know that, and Ash could be talked about by Chris for days."

"And..." She trailed off at first, but his words gave her confidence. He already admitted to her unintentionally and that's all she needed.

y/n thought she was being smart about it to get him to confess. "Me?" She would never admit that she heard him though, never, ever.

Josh chuckled and began to tease her. "Couldn't get to you until you rudely interrupted our conversation." Chris chuckled at the banter, knowing that was a complete lie. Josh didn't react to sound as honest as possible.

y/n bought it to keep face. "Uh huh, nice one, Mr. Washington. What a coincidence."

Josh returned. "Yup."

"A quinky-dink." y/n continued.

Josh replied, once more. "Mhm." Chris kept holding in a laugh at the awkward yet funny atmosphere that surrounded them, even if it meant he was the third wheel. y/n sent Josh a friend request ingame, which he promptly accepted.

A match started which changed the topic.

Josh directed his attention to his new friend's banner which would show her selection when she chose. "I never asked you who you played."

She sat deciding what support character she should choose. "Me?"

Josh took a second to try to understand her thought process when asking that. "I mean I play with Chris, I know who he plays."

She realizes her stupidity at this moment in time, but played it off cool. "Right...! I play everything including tank, but it seems like Chris takes the cake for that. I play whatever the team needs."

"Nice. Yeah, Chris likes playing tank." Josh slightly smiles at her comment. "Seems like you'll support our team, what shall you pick, madam?"

"I like playing based on the team when I'm support. I'll see what everyone else picks to best help the team with my choice of character."

Chris always keeps his number one choice unless the other team counters him. Where they'd play a character that makes his own completely useless. "I already know what I'm choosing."

"I'll play this guy this time." Josh decides to try the soldier.

"I see, if you play that then..." She chooses the damage boosting support and their teammate picks a main healer to focus on keeping everybody's health satiated.

Josh smugly replied to her action. "I think I see where this is going..."

y/n rolled her eyes behind the screen. "Not that I have any faith in you, but your ultimate that 100% doesn't miss, would need this to change the tides."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

hi everyone! i hope u enjoyed what you've read. i do wanna continue it, but im a bit busy and got too excited to keep it in the drafts, i want it to eventually end with one of them realizing their likeness towards one another. i usually do write longer chapters, 5k-10k, but i have a midterm tomorrow and i couldn't stop myself from writing something. comments, likes, and everything else is appreciated for ur friendly neighborhood budding writer. took about 2 hours to write this.

[starlight-write]

lee!Vox and ler!Alastor fic??? 🤔🤔

Stalker

Requests: Open

Summary: Vox's little obsession with stalking his nemesis lands him into a bit of trouble.

Pairings: Lee!Vox, Ler!Alastor (Mommy Issues)

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing

Words: 1666

——————————————————————————————

It was a common understanding for most of Hell’s residents that you’d have to either be brave or stupid to be caught on the streets of Hell in the middle of the night, especially alone. Unless of course you were powerful enough to be considered a threat yourself.

Fortunately, our favorite TV Overlord was a perfect mix of powerful, brave, and stupid.

Vox whistled to himself as he walked out the doors of the antique shop, having just planted a shit load of spyware in case that bastard tried to interrupt another one of his broadcasts.

Velvette had given him an earful that afternoon going on about how he was "obsessed" and "borderline psychotic" referring to his recent attempts at gathering intel (not stalking thank you very much) on his enemy.

"He's a threat to our image! The two of you should be thanking me!"

Their little argument sparked when Velvette noticed the pathetic little man had spent a concerning amount of time in front of his gigantic screen wall. Having sent multiple drones that week to spy on the hotel and its residents.

While he still hadn't found any useful information on his nemesis, just knowing where that bastard was at all times was enough to calm his nerves.

Still not stalking.

The Overlord strolled down the sidewalk with his face buried into his phone checking for updates from the drones.

He noticed one of them was offline, only returning a black screen. Vox swiped furiously on the device, heart racing as he tried to figure out what the FUCK was going on?!

Vox picked up his pace a little bit, his screen buried in the other screen, not at all aware of his surroundings.

The man was to consumed by his panic to realize he was being followed before it was too late.

Vox screamed when he felt someone snatch his arms before dragging the man into the dark alleyway he was just about to pass by.

The creep managed to drag him a good distance down the alley before he came out of his shock enough to fight back.

The man twisted, turned, kicked, punched but only managed to free himself once he let off a good amount of electricity. However, his attacker recovered quickly and a fight broke between the two.

Thankfully not a long one. Soon enough, four tendrils emerged from the wall and wrapped around each of the man's limbs before yanking his body and pinning it to the wall.

Vox grunted and emitted more of his electrical shocks before realizing these things were immune. The tendrils had him pinned several inches off the ground with both arm on each side of his screen. He pulled and tugged at the bonds before realizing how monumentally screwed he was.

An annoyed sigh prompted him to look up at his attacker. Only the small light from his screen allowing him to identify the other.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Alastor stalked towards the other, his menacing smile never faltered as he stared daggers into the trapped man.

The demon stopped mere centimeters away from Vox's face before delivering a quick punch to the wall right next to the other's screen causing the brick to crumble.

"Were you a fucking formula baby or some shit?!" Alastor hissed, stepping away slightly. "Did your mother deprive you of attention that bad that you have go around seeking it from everyone else?!" The demon snarled, seemingly pulling Vox's missing drone out of nowhere as he threw it in front of his feet.

"That's besides the point-" He said. "I MEAN-!"

Alastor snatched the other man's tie forcing their faces together again. "What exactly were you hoping to find, hm? Do tell because I'm dying to know what intel could possibly be valuable enough for you to get your soul torn to shreds over."

Vox smiled down at his captor, completely unfazed by the threat. "HA! You don't scare me, Alastor. Besides, there's nothing in that crappy hotel that was worth seeing anyways. All I saw was shitty improv skits and a bunch of half-assed attempts at redemption. The whole place is one big-fat-fucking-joke, which makes sense considering your clown ass is running the show."

Alastor felt his eye twitch but released his hold on the other's tie, causing his neck to snap up and bang his head on the brick wall.

"That mouth of yours is going to be the death of you, my friend."

Vox shook his head, trying to get his bearings once more. "Don't call me that. And let me go already, I'm not telling you anything."

"What else is there to tell?" Alastor asked, picking up the discarded drone. "You've already proven yourself to be quite desperate for my attention, I figured the best way to punish you for this little stunt is by giving you exactly what you want." Alastor stared the demon down as he crushed the drone with his bare hands.

Vox laughed. "Oh, I'm soooo scared! What are you gonna do? Bore me to death with your little- AAH!" Vox screamed when he felt the other's hands grab his waist.

"Not exactly." The demon laughed.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. NO-!

A million memories suddenly flooded Vox's mind. Memories of laughing his guts out under the other demon. Memories of their their little 'fights' that occurred when one or both of them were bored, which Vox always seemed to lose. Memories of Alastor completely losing his patience and tickling Vox mercilessly until he was in tears.

Alastor smiled, relishing in the sight of that cocky smirk being wiped off his rivals face. The demon snickered as he tightened his grip around the other's waist. "Oh Vox, did you really think I would forget? You've begged for my attention countless times like this before, remember? I know exactly how to shut that big mouth of yours~"

Vox started to squirm, the hands weren't even moving yet but just the thought of it sent tingles through the demon's skin.

"Wait- hehA!- Wahait! th-This is sihilly. C'mon, surely yohohou can thinkik of a better wahahay to- AAAHH!" Vox shouted as those hands began slowly pinching up and down his sides.

Alastor chuckled, softly raking his fingers along the other's sides. "I don't think so, old pal. You've had this coming for a long time now."

Vox shook his head as much as he could, given what little space he had. Failing to suppress his giggles as he tugged furiously at his restraints.

"fuhuhuhuck- no- no plehehehease! wahahahahahait- wahahait a minute!" Quiet, panicked giggles were forced from his throat. Remembering how unbearable the softer tickles proved to be, Vox squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth but still couldn't hope to block out the unbearable tingling sensation.

"Begging already?" Alastor teased. "That's no fun. You know we're just getting started right?~"

Vox cursed at the teasing. Unintentionally emitting electric sparks due to his flustered state. Alastor remembered how easy it was for the man to overheat and took the teasing down a notch. Instead switching tactics and opting to scribble viciously under his arms.

Vox blue-screened for a split second before letting out a high pitch squeal. Full on cackling at this point while he desperately tried to pull his arms down.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!- HOLD ON- HOLD OHOHOHON!!! WAHAHAHIT AHAHAHALASTAAAAA- PLEHEHEHEAHAHA-"

Alastor had that self-satisfied smile he always wore whenever he got what he wanted. Vox hated that smile.

"Oh come now Vox~ You're well on your way to be one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell! Surely this can't be all it takes to break you~"

Vox's screen began to glitch and the whirring of the fans became audible as the man began to overheat.

Oh, right. Teasing is a no-go if we want to continue.

Alastor sighed. Well, if talking was too much for Vox, maybe he'd prefer something else instead~

The hands suddenly removed themselves from underneath Vox's arms and moved to either side of his head. The Overlord was to busy cooling down and catching his breath to realize that the other was positioning his face at the crook of his neck.

The feeling of sharp teeth gently nibbling at his neck was enough to snap him back to reality and into another hysterical fit.

"nononONO!- WAHA-AAAIIEEE- WAHAHAAAAA- AHAHAHAHA!!"

Vox cackled and screamed at the intense feeling. Fighting with everything he had to free himself from his bonds, panic flooded his systems at the feeling of being hopelessly trapped and completely at the other's mercy.

To which, of course, Alastor had none.

The demon could feel the heat radiating from the TV demon's systems and knew the poor, pathetic man didn't have much fight left in him.

Deciding to go for the kill, Alastor repositioned his hands at the other's hips and began squeezing rapidly while also blowing a few raspberries at his neck for good measure.

Yeah, Vox literally didn't last half a second.

No screaming. No cackling. No fighting. The demon's screen just glitched brutally before going black and his body instantly went limp.

Alastor pulled back and looked at his victim for a moment.

"Well, shit." He sighed.

He'll admit, he'd been itching to do that again for some time now but it seems he got carried away and the fun got cut short.

Oh well. He was sure there would be a next time.

Alastor grabbed the other's phone and released his body, letting it drop gracelessly on the floor of the alleyway.

Charlie had taught him the basics of how to work one of these things and thankfully Vox was cocky enough to not enable a password on his device.

Assuming the contact name "Doll-Faced Bitch" was one of his colleagues, he sent a photo of Vox's limp body as well as the location before tossing the phone away and heading back to the hotel.

Someday, he'll learn not to mess with The Radio Demon.

But hopefully not anytime soon.