#I knew this because the smoke was blowing into my window

[david-watts]

I swear to god the weather is evil atm

[gutsby]

Who’s Your Daddy?

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x Reader

Summary: You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Deadbeat-Perv-Peepaw LOVES corny porn tropes and women over half his age. Stepcest & dubcon technically bc Reader’s locked inside an appliance, but she’s into it (getting fucked, not stuck). One (1) kick in the dick. Spanking. Brat-taming. Choking. Daddy issues. Size kink. Praise kink. Infidelity. Creampie.

Note: Saw this post by @ovaryacted and started BARKING. For my Old Man lovers/daddy issues crew, this one’s for you.

Word count: 8.3k

It was the closest thing to porn you’d ever done before.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to call it that.

And why should you? Financial straits were no anomaly to a girl your age, especially in this economy, and almost everyone you knew had a side gig of some kind. It just so happened that your job required slightly skimpier attire. And a webcam. And some very special…accessories that would likely send your grandmother into cardiac arrest if she ever took a peek inside your bottom dresser drawer.

Okay, it was definitely porn.

But you never showed your face, so it didn’t really count as the same kind of stuff that your family condemned.

You scampered out of your room the second you heard the front door to the house slam closed all the same. Arms laden with G-strings, stockings, satin bralettes, lace and tulle bodysuits of almost every style imaginable, you ran a quick, perilous path to the living room window and made sure to keep your head ducked low as you did. You peered out through the gap in the curtains and had to squint hard to see anything in the midafternoon sun.

Then you saw it and felt instant relief—they were leaving.

Your grandma for one, your mother for second, and wherever the latter was headed, you knew her shadow would be soon to follow. You saw a thick plume of smoke outside and surmised that Joel was somewhere around the other side of the SUV, smoking and droning on about how he was perfectly fi-i-i-ne to drive, don’t be like that.

By ‘like that’ he meant sensible. And by ‘perfectly fine’ he meant two Miller Lites shy of completely shitfaced. You could already imagine the wry smile on your mother’s lips as she tried prying the keys from his hands. Your stepdad would probably plant a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek to win a ‘yes’ in return—and when she shyly reminded him that he couldn’t afford to get another DUI, he’d get pissed and yank them out of her fist anyway.

Fucking loser.

Fucking triple-the-legal-limit dumbass motherfucker.

It didn’t bother you as much today because you knew they were only driving a couple blocks away to get to the farmer’s market, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he’d get caught. Again. Maybe blow a 0.25 this time and land his old, ungrateful, law-breaking ass in Travis County Jail, where his little brother Tommy was likely keeping a cell bench warm for him, per usual.

At any rate, you didn’t have time to be fantasizing now. It was your turn to embody some guy’s grossest wet dreams for the next two to three hours. Stripping away layer after layer of your latest, tightest ‘costume’ while catering to whatever requests happened to float in your inbox, you knew you’d be up to your eyeballs in work. Though almost routine by now, you had to hurry up.

If you could just get the rest of this ridiculous gunk out of your clothing, you’d be all good to go for the job.

TRMAN22: Pour honey on your tits in the next vid???

TRMAN22: Milk too. All over you.

Looking back, you probably shouldn’t have obliged that request. Now you were facing the consequences—forced to throw all your clothes in the washing machine because the milk and honey you’d dumped on yourself for that video had gotten everywhere, and then swiftly congealed while wasting away in a pile of laundry for over a week.

The whole heap smelled rancid. Still felt sticky, too. Presently, you chucked each one inside the washing machine while holding your breath, and as soon as the last was discarded, you sniffed the shirt you had on.

Tolerable. With the rest of your stuff in the wash, you hoped to get at least one request off the checklist:

TRMAN22: Bet you’d look sexy in a schoolgirl outfit!!

TRMAN22: Why don’t you try one on for me?

It was gag-worthy and gross. Slightly alarming for a man who was more than likely twice your age and old enough to remember Watergate, but you agreed to play along. Your old school uniform was, after all, the only clean clothes you had left, and ‘TRMAN22’ was, unfortunately, your top subscriber. He’d paid $300 for this video alone.

TRMAN22: Wear some NEON pink panties for me too ;)

You squatted in front of the washing machine and stuck a hand inside. You sifted around, furrowing your brows.

The brightest undies you owned were in there, soiled, but you figured you could get away with one gross article of clothing, all things considered. You reached a little further and continued to dig. When you couldn’t find it by feel alone, you peered inside the circular, metallic cavern of the washing machine and craned your neck.

Not here…not here…not—

You tilted forward, venturing a closer look with your head, then shoulders, pushing into the machine.

—here, not here, not—

“EW!” you shrieked.

In your search, you’d inadvertently brushed up against a mildewed piece of clothing that had gotten wedged between the grooves of the washing machine’s interior.

A pair of boxers, it seemed.

You recoiled as soon as your fingers grazed the wet and smelly thing. Your skull went crack against the low-sloped ceiling of the appliance, and a jolt of pain was quick to course through you at the contact. You groaned.

Of course Joel had forgotten some old, cum-stained scrap of fabric out of his last load. Always leaving his shit around for you or your mom to pick up like he owned the place. And here you went, again, angrily plugging your nose and pulling as hard as you could on the shorts to get them free from the washing machine. You hardly thought twice, just made a face and then yanked on it.

The boxers wouldn’t budge.

You tugged even harder. The fabric stayed put.

Something akin to a grunt and a whimper, only far more pathetic, slipped out of your mouth, and you slapped the half-hollow steel wall in frustration. Surrounded as you were—fully encased in metal—the sound just echoed.

“Fucking…CUNT.”

You weren’t sure if you were talking to the shorts, the machine, or Joel Miller in the abstract. Or maybe all three. You just hated the thought of washing your lingerie with your stepdad’s skivvies, and no amount of rational thought or practical reasoning could hold you back now.

The tip of your index finger sank deep beneath the same ridge of the wall where the boxers had gotten stuck. You curled it inward, trying to loosen the material up a little. You wriggled your knuckle even further. And just when you managed to get a hold of the cusp of the tangled fabric—just when it seemed the green plaid cluster was about to give way—you heard a low pop. You felt it, too.

Shortly, your finger was pinched inside the deep, blunt valley of steel that had similarly snagged Joel’s boxers. It seemed you’d pushed the tip of your finger so far that you were caught straight down to the second knuckle—trapped between two grooves of unforgiving alloy inside the washing machine tub with no clear means of escape.

You jerked your arm back, panicked. When the metal sank its teeth even deeper, you didn’t stop. Completely heedless of the pain, you operated on impulse and by the feeling of needing to get the fuck out of that little space, quickly, and instead yanked your hand back even harder.

To your horror, your finger was stuck.

“FUCK!”

You stared down at the poor digit, only half-visible inside the wall at this point, then glanced down at the heap of sweaty, sticky, slutty pieces of clothing that were presently strewn about you, and felt an even deeper stab of dread. Stuck inside your family’s washing machine with every bit of damning evidence one could hope to have—and wearing your old school uniform to boot—you realized at once you were fucked if you didn’t get out.

You slammed your palm against the nearest wall once more, shaking your other wrist like an unruly child.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!”

You weren’t good at solving problems. In point of fact, you sucked at all things prudent resolution-related and regularly made it a habit to capitulate whenever you sensed loss inevitable. You were a little like your mother in that way, quick to give in to life’s uglier challenges. The only way you could conceivably claim to be stronger, the only place you always had the strength to say ‘no’ was—

“Aw, shit.”

—Joel.

Your throat tightened as soon as you heard the voice. Your eyes went wide, and the rest of you went numb.

Bent at the waist and kneeling with half your body inside the washing machine, you remained there, motionless. Back arched and ass out. Thanks to the way you’d rolled your old plaid skirt, the fabric covered almost zero cheek.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. Then coughed.

And coughed again, again, and again. Evidently trying to clear the smoke out of his lungs and the surprise from his eyes as he drank in your sight from the doorway.

“What in the—wh—th—” You could hear Joel wheeze, beating his chest with his fist, “What— in— the hell?!”

“Help me,” you hissed.

You weren’t sure why you chose that as your go-to. It just sounded like the right thing to say, and frankly, you weren’t sure how else to distract from the fact Joel was probably gawking at your ass as he coughed up a lung.

“The fuck do you mean ‘help’?! What are you doing?”

The coughing subsided, if only momentarily. You tried pulling back on your finger again to get out, but couldn’t.

“I-I’m…I was just…” you stammered, heart racing.

You heard the tread of heavy footfalls. You felt them.

“Just—trying…” you ventured again, suddenly at a loss for words and breath alike as you felt a presence draw in.

You could smell him.

That realization alone made you want to stop taking in air altogether. It happened out of instinct, really—feeling the shift of two huge boots settle behind your feet and then flinching inward, further inside the metal tub for…safety? A pang of abject humiliation? You were far past the point of civility with the man, caring what he thought, or fearing for your modesty in a position like this, but something about the proximity now just made you itch.

You wished your finger wasn’t jammed inside this appliance so you could give that feeling relief, somehow.

At length, Joel’s voice dragged you back:

“What’s stuck?”

Too calm. A second passed. Then he added, more stern,

“This some fuckin’ joke’a yours or somethin’?”

“No!”

“Then what—”

“My finger. My finger’s stuck.”

You tried to crane your neck to see behind you, but all your eyes had to feast upon was denim. Bluish-grey stonewashed denim, faded with years of use. Joel stood back for a second, as if considering what to do, and then you saw two hands descend to brace themselves against his knees. He bent at the waist to get a better look below.

When his eyes locked with yours, you got the same twist in your gut as you’d felt before, only sharper. Shameful.

The look on Joel’s face was abnormally bright.

“And how on earth did that happen, dumbass?”

Your shame morphed into chagrin in a blink, seeing the ghost of a smile bleed into your stepdad’s features.

“‘Cause of you, leaving your shit in here!” you snapped. Your chin jerked toward the green fabric, “I was just trying to get your boxers unstuck—and my finger…”

Your finger was kind of fucked.

Joel cast a look inside at the source of your frustration. He extended his left arm and reached over your torso, and as he did, you felt the slightest, albeit solid, sort of warmth press in. The man let out a low groan of exertion—likely at the strain the movements placed on his joints.

The warmth got worse. You weren’t sure where it started.

Vaguely, you were aware of Joel’s thumb pressing into your hand. Gliding down your finger, stroking across the spot where your knuckle had gotten caught, he circled over it, slowly, and made another sound in his throat.

“Well that ain’t…good.” Not one to mince words.

By now, your whole body was on fire. You barely had the strength to keep kneeling, much less speak to the man thumbing your hand and pressing his heat so close—

“Just get me out!” you shrieked.

You heard your mother’s voice in that. A shrill, impatient lilt in her speech that came out, invariably, around Joel. Normally, he would have done something to deserve it. But today, with his hand splayed over yours and his breaths as calm and even-keeled as he could hope to have them while he tried to help, he was blameless.

Evidently, he heard a trace of your mother too, because you heard him laugh. You felt the reverberations of his amusement travel up from his belly all the way to his lips.

“Cool your pits, kid.”

For that, you would’ve loved nothing more than to reach back with your free hand and hit him in the balls. But, as it was, this man was your only hope for escape, and he was being tolerably polite, anyway. He pinched your finger between the tips of two of his and gave it a tug.

“Okay, lemme just—” Joel started.

“Why are you home, anyway?”

The question came out more clipped than you meant it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joel countered evenly.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

You reckoned he could probably feel you roll your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see you do it right now. He waited another moment, then leaned back on his haunches and withdrew his arm from the tub.

“Mama don’t like me drinkin’ and drivin’, you know that.”

With that, the warmth was gone. Joel retreated.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

You heard him exhale a little harder through his nose. When he’d steadied himself against the washing machine, gave his knees another second to prepare for getting up again, you could feel his eyes back on you. Maybe he lingered longer than his legs really needed.

Maybe if he hadn’t stayed crouched like that, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give your surroundings a second look. He wouldn’t have stopped to watch the rate of your breaths pick up or the way your skin startle to bristle with some strange, unknown sensation. He certainly wouldn’t have felt for himself the fever leaking out from the base of your spine right then.

Today just wasn’t the day for keeping secrets, it seemed.

“And what’s this?” You could feel Joel lean back in.

He was looking again. Peering inside. Steadying his weight with the edge of the washing machine gripped in one hand, while the other snaked its way back inside.

You’d already squeezed your eyes shut by the time Joel got a hold of something. You didn’t know what it was.

But it became painfully clear that it wasn’t just one ‘thing’ that had grabbed his attention at all, but rather a series of items that his hands were just now getting to explore. You didn’t have to see his broad and tan, callus-streaked fingers to feel them roaming over your clothes.

Gross.

Gross.

“Gross,” Joel agreed, as if he’d read your mind. Grinning.

If you thought the embarrassment was bad before, you really only knew a fraction of what humiliation could be. Your finger throbbed along with the pulse in your skull.

Your mother’s husband whistled and lifted something.

“Darlin’, this is just…disgusting.”

You winced. You tried not to pry an eye open, to steal a covert look through the frame of your lashes in that dim and crowded spot, but the inducement was too great—Joel was dangling one of your lime green G-strings like it was a fish he’d just caught out on the lake. Boasting it.

Doting, almost.

“Well I’ll be—”

“Will you quit?!” you snapped.

You grabbed the thing out of his hand and threw it aside.

“Can you be serious? For one fucking secon—”

“Oh, I’m bein’ serious, sweetie,” Joel cut in. Cool as ever, “Serious as the business end of a .45, I swear.”

He paused. Then he reached for a white nylon bustier, drenched in a layer of honey that was as hard as a rock.

“Do you always keep your little…skank tanks so filthy?”

That was it. You kicked your heel back—and up—and made a pass to hit your stepdad square in the balls.

Your aim wasn’t the best it’s ever been, seeing that half your body was trapped inside a home appliance at the moment, but what your jab lacked in accuracy, it made up for in force: your foot plunged into the seam of Joel’s jeans full throttle. From the way the back of your heel plowed into his crotch, and the sound that clawed out of his throat the same instant, you reckoned you did okay.

What you weren’t expecting was a smack in return.

An answer in kind—delivered by the palm of Joel’s hand.

A taut, thoughtless THWACK on the swell of your ass.

Your mouth fell open. Your body barely had the chance to recoil when, shortly, another blow landed on your cheek.

Joel spanked you.

Spanked you.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he spat. His palm had slid up with the weight of his last slap, and now his fingers were clenched in a fist in the back of your skirt. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him gripping fabric. It was firm.

He was firm—unrelenting in his hold.

Kneeling behind you, yanking back a handful of tartan skirt like it was nothing, then sidling up behind you.

And just when your attention was drawn to some other firm thing, it was shortly diverted by another sensation.

“JOEL!” you shrieked as he gave you another spanking.

The bare skin of your cheeks was on fire. Joel hit hard. Just when you feared you might legitimately whimper with the sting of that last blow, and while the imprint of his palm was still fresh, you felt it move again. Lower.

“Joel.”

That came out more like a whine than a cry of protest. And how could you, now, when he was soothing the raw bite of his hand with a touch that was kneading the skin?

Working the soft, supple flesh of your ass in his hand like he’d never dream of being anything else but gentle to it.

“Good?” Joel said.

Your head flinched to nod, but your brain thought better.

It did feel good. So good, in fact, that your eyelids were starting to droop just a bit and your back was subtly arching into the touch, but those were only instincts. Stupid, useless, brain-rotted reflexes born of years of paternal neglect and replete indifference, the likes of which could bring a grown man to his knees, begging—

“Please.”

But the entreaty was your own, and the voice that spoke it was hoarse. Your belly sank into the circular aperture of the washing machine, and you could feel your ribs scraping close to metal. Nevertheless, you didn’t mind. That ditzy lizard brain of yours was starved for physical touch, and who were you to deny her at a time like this?

No, not when Joel was squeezing like that.

Groping was the more appropriate word for it, really. Notwithstanding the decades of sexual experience that no doubt preceded the man that was standing before you—behind you—today, Joel was unduly coarse. His broad, weathered hand made as if to cool its former sting, but the motions themselves were jerky. Desperate.

He needed this worse than you, the fucking pervert.

Just when the realization had begun to settle over your mind and your legs were getting to feel a little less like jelly, knowing you weren’t the only weak one here, Joel’s palm slowed down. He pressed the heel of it into your flesh as if to force himself to stop, then he took a breath.

“Now use your words.”

“But—” you sputtered.

“I said,” Joel resumed, and you could sense it was through gritted teeth. His movements came to a halt.

“We use our words when we want somethin’, hear?”

It was the first you’d heard Joel attempt to enforce anything close to discipline with you in your life.

That had to warrant a little defiance, no doubt.

Under your breath, quiet: “So ‘we’ includes ‘you,’ too?”

Beneath that one, seemingly innocuous question was lurking another, and both of you knew it: Remember that time you put a fist through the kitchen wall? Was that a good example of what it means to ‘use words,’ Joel? Whether it was adequate provocation or not, you could sense what was coming next before you’d even finished. When the spank landed on your right cheek so loud that it echoed, you didn’t flinch. You did snag your lip between your teeth to keep a sound from spilling out.

“A dad makes rules. Ain’t his to follow,” Joel growled.

You blinked and bit down harder. Watched the broad, amorphous shape of the man’s reflection shift along the back metallic wall in hues of grey and blue and wished you had the strength to turn around and face him then.

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Said ‘a’ dad, didn’t I?”

“You’re not that either.”

Heat was rising to your cheeks again, this time for different reasons. For a cause you were far better acquainted with to date—annoyance at Joel.

“So that means I’m—”

“Nothing. You’re nothing to me,” you finished, tone wry.

Nothing to anyone, you wanted to add. Not with a shiny gold band latched onto your left hand to tell the world that you’re married to my mother, a pack of smokes tucked away in the jeans she washes every week, or a couple years spent under the same roof as me. Nothing.

Your teeth clamped back down—and almost sank clean through your lower lip this time—when next you felt a touch at the plush, covered mound that was normally shielded between your legs. The spot that was hardly ever tilted up in a position like this, exposed to the air and a man’s hungry gaze, now invaded by the press of a single thing: a warm and soft middle finger at your core.

Joel brushed the tip of it against your entrance, through your panties, and sucked a breath through his teeth when both of you felt a tiny squelch at the pressure.

He pressed harder, and the wetness only spread.

You didn’t have to be in Joel’s position to know what he was seeing, but the feeling from his finger overpowered any better sense to speak—or tell him to stop. He traced his slow, cruel circles against your warmth and moved it up to where he knew he’d find your bud, and when you whimpered, he simply added his index to the mix. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were leaking heat at that point. You could feel it seeping beneath his touch.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel breathed, voice low. Your arousal made a sickening hiss beneath his fingers as he rubbed you even harder, “This feel like nothin’ to you, honey?”

You couldn’t speak. He knew you weren’t capable of it.

“‘Cause this sure don’t feel like nothin’ to me.”

Wet and tacky beneath his touch, your warmth supplied the answer that your mouth couldn’t form. It came out in more of a tap, tap, tap, punctuated by breaths that were toiling in earnest not to turn into moans too soon. But, as hulking and clumsy as his hands had once shown themselves to be, the old man knew where to put them, at least. He made circles on your clit with practiced ease.

“You can try lyin’ to me, but she can’t.”

He was right. ‘She’ was a traitor.

You could deny it all you wanted, but the proof was there.

Indeed, she was crying. Aching. Bleeding with desire. Throbbing beneath the pads of Joel’s fingertips and growing only more desperate as he increased the speed of his touch. When he notched the drenched cotton to the side, you had to grit your teeth to keep in a whimper.

Joel whistled.

“See? Seems like she likes me just fine right here.”

Your jaw stayed wired shut with the weight of your own humiliation. Instead of answering aloud, you hummed. Made a sound low and soft in your throat like, ‘Uh-hmm’ and tilted your hips, as if you didn’t know how else to ask. Joel couldn’t see inside the washing machine, but he must’ve felt the gesture, because he greeted it with a motion of his own: he chuckled, and he puckered his lips.

And when you felt the warmth of his spit hit you between your folds, your shame should’ve tripled. Should’ve made you flinch away from his touch and tell him that was so fucking gross, Joel, stop, but then he smeared it up your slit. He pressed in and mixed it with the rest of your arousal; any reproach died on your tongue in an instant.

A part of him was on you now. Trickling in, sticking to the most sensitive part of you, and settling into your skin like a glaze. With his other hand, he found your skirt again.

“Who’re ya wearin’ this for, sweet pea?” Joel murmured.

“No one.”

Another glob of spit landed between your cheeks. Now, the man used the lubrication to sink two fingers inside you—pushing them in until the rim of your cunt met his knuckles. You whined at the stretch, felt him coax your walls open with a consciousness and a carefulness that felt almost mean, but then he stroked down the base of your spine with the hand that still held onto your skirt. He soothed your startled cry with a curl of his fingers.

And he found the soft, spongy patch of flesh inside that made your eyes roll straight to the back of your skull, quickly. Working his fingers in and out, flattening the base of his free hand over the skin exposed by your flipped-up skirt, and watching your body give way to the force of his fingers, he was uncharacteristically patient. Exacting in the way he worked your body open to him.

“What do you care?” you groaned. You winced when you felt a squelch signal that he’d stretched you even wider.

“‘Cause,” Joel started, slow. Pumping his fingers through your folds and likely wondering when he’d add a third, “You got your hand stuck in a fuckin’ washing machine, a treasure trove of this slut stuff piled in a heap…I mean…”

“They’re just clothes!”

“Just clothes?”

In the wake of those terse, incredulous words, you tried your best to match his tone—call his bluff—but the only sound that came out of your mouth was punctured by a pitiful whine. He tried another finger but couldn’t fit it in. As wet as you were, and as strong as he was, your cunt wasn’t quite ready to accept all three of Joel’s thick, probing digits inside. You’d fit more than a thing or two with a girth even greater than that in the past, but you figured your nerves might have something to do with the way you were tightening around the man’s fingers now.

Why you couldn’t take more of him in, as much as you wanted him there, felt, at present, like something of a shortcoming, and a pathetic one at that. You let out a breath, and a second later, Joel slowed his motions.

You didn’t expect him to stop. Didn’t hold out a hope he might curtail his pace and talk you through a quiet, gentle arrangement for fitting a third finger inside you—that just wasn’t him. You didn’t have to share a paper-thin bedroom wall with your mother and her husband for the last however many years to know that Joel Miller was not a tender lover. It simply wasn’t in his nature to care.

So when you heard the clink of a belt coming undone a moment later, your senses strangely flooded with relief. He wouldn’t care, wouldn’t inquire, wouldn’t coddle with false, romantic ideals of how a woman should be treated.

In that way, Joel shared something in common with your father after all: he set standards as low as they could go.

“Just clothes?” he repeated, snapping your underwear against your ass and jerking the fabric further aside.

Then somehow send those expectations even lower.

There was a hand splayed out across the small of your back. Another fiddling with the front of his pants, wrestling the button and zip of his jeans in little more than one, two, three careless seconds, before he drew in closer to your rear. Your slit was messy, wet, and exposed to his eyes once again. For a second, you almost took comfort in the fact that your hand was still wedged inside a groove of steel and you couldn’t meet his gaze.

That was, until Joel slid his bare length along the seam of your cunt. When the inability to see him made it so you had no other choice but to be surprised when he finally touched you was unnerving, to say the least.

And when the head of his cock blended seamlessly between your folds, was drenched in less than a blink and nearly notched straight into the place you needed him most—well, that had an effect on him, too. Joel moved his flat and sweaty palm up your back, found purchase in the hem of your blouse, and gripped it. Tugged it down a little more and let a low groan billow out of his throat while he rocked his hips back and forth.

Desperate, clumsy, pussydrunk Joel was back before you’d even realized he’d left. Only now he was keen to put the disquiet and hesitations to rest; he needed to fuck you before either one of you wisened up just then.

Your parts and his commingled again. First, with the lethally warm trail of precum leaking out from his tip. Then the intrusion that followed, inevitably, glossed with self-indulgence and desperation—soiling any semblance of platonic affection or parental attention—as he fed you the first inch of him. Barely half the head got fitted inside and your grip on that was like a vice. Joel’s was bruising.

Suddenly firm on your hips, carving crescents in the skin:

“When’s the last time you got fucked, baby?”

You reckoned Joel had a guess—and it wasn’t correct.

“Last…week,” you whimpered, words punctuated with a sigh as his cock tried to make room for more of him.

Joel sucked in a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He’d barely gotten an inch past his tip, facing more resistance than he’d felt in a long, long time, and you were wet, but so tight. He was big but not so massive as that. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying was true.

“That…fratboy fuckstick you went out on a date with?”

“Didn’t think you even saw me leave.”

Joel withdrew, gripped your hips even tighter, then drove his cock to nestle three solid inches inside your cunt. It was extra snug, but he made sure to try to loosen you up with a couple short, shallow thrusts and a hand gradually drifting down between your legs. Of course he saw you.

The circles on your clit and slow-growing movements may as well have been kerosene in your veins. With what limited range of motion you had in that grey, compact space, you let out a sigh and dug the fingers of your free hand into the closest scrap of fabric beside you. Joel’s own touch gradually moved from your hip to drag your hand behind your back, clasping his. He fucked in deeper

“So that’s who this is for?” Thumbing your skirt.

“Y-Yeah,” you lied.

“Wanted to send naughty pics in the schoolgirl getup?”

“Yes,” you lied again. You closed your eyes when Joel sank his cock even deeper and made you stretch inside.

“‘Atta girl,” he praised.

It might’ve been the first he’d validated you in your life.

“Grippin’ this cock extra tight, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Never in a million years would you have imagined it’d come this late—or leave Joel’s mouth in a way like that.

‘Elastic’ wasn’t a word you’d ever used to describe your body, either. Frankly, there was no need for it to be; every one of your partners before had been average-sized, and every other object that went inside you, too, had almost always been a comfortable squeeze between your walls. Outside of maybe your first time and a once-off awkward hookup now and again, you were never forced to feel a stretch to this degree. Joel felt huge moving inside you.

He was nearing your cervix and still nowhere close to the base of his cock. Meanwhile, you were stuffed to the brim, saturated with arousal and his spit, and practically keening at every stab of his hips. You couldn’t reach back because Joel’s fingers were still enmeshed with yours, gripping them hard behind your back. As wore down, fucked out, and desperate as you already were, you were less than only a second away from asking him to ease up.

And then he stopped.

Joel pulled out, let go, and pressed onto the old washing machine, where you heard his touch echo through metal.

He was leaning against it. You were about to turn around. Before you could, though, you felt his form mold into yours—this time not in it, but on it, as he drew closer and once more reached into the space where you were stuck.

“Can you be brave for me, baby?” Joel murmured.

“Wh—” you started, soft, only to feel the words plucked straight from your lungs as Joel leaned his body inside. Carefully, and with concerted effort, it seemed, he was trying to squeeze his way into the O-shaped hole of the washing machine, snaking his arm around your torso.

Pinching your finger again. Breathing just gently enough for his exhales to tickle at your shoulders and your neck.

“Can you be brave?” he repeated, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him so soft-spoken, or felt him so close.

You nodded, not knowing why.

Without another word, your stepdad pinched the digit even tighter and yanked it out from where it was stuck.

It all happened so fast. Joel freeing your finger, squeezing it tight, helping you out of that hot and crowded space while your legs gave way like mush beneath your weight—and your hand throbbing in pain. You’d never thought a single finger could cause a feeling as strong as that, but it stung like hell. You almost raked your nails through the man’s arm when he tried to hold you back, holding you up just as well as you stood.

“Joel!” you screeched, like the whole thing was his fault.

You flexed your hand and wanted to sob. You could feel the streaks of pain start to claw up your wrist, were just about to shove Joel aside and wallow in agony, when at length, he did something strange and unexpected again.

This time, he lifted your index to his mouth and kissed it.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Coming from Joel, it hardly even seemed affectionate. His lips were so warm and firm and decidedly unacquainted with anything approaching a threat of tenderness that his act read almost aggressive. He let your finger rest loosely against his mouth, and he kissed it again, while his eyes burned holes into yours.

‘You’re okay’ came out muffled against your hand.

“You’re okay—hey—baby, you’re good. Don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears had started to form. You blinked and felt one trickle down your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Joel brushed his thumb against that lone trail of moisture. He didn’t cup your face, hold you close, or stroke your cheek in the seconds that followed, though he did keep kissing you.

Or, rather, it—your finger.

Joel didn’t have to care for you at all. He just feared he might’ve pulled on your hand too hard in getting you out.

‘You’re okay’ was being mumbled away like a fractured refrain, touch descending gently to your hip, and his eyes grew softer by the second, surely he had to be thinking it.

Sinking inside you, again. He was standing; your hips were tilted to his, and your ass was pressing flat against the front of the washing machine. All it took was an inch or two off the ground and your limbs hanging limply around his hips for Joel to fuck back into you. He sucked on your finger so hard you feared the skin might actually bruise—a hand hickey, of all fucking things—and when his grip tightened on your side, you knew he felt it too.

His teeth succeeded his lips in an instant, and he was biting, gnawing pathetically as a groan shuddered through his chest. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said the sound was veering perilously close to a whimper.

Fully sheathed inside you, Joel Miller didn’t seem to care. His lids fell like lead across the upper half of his brown, glossy eyes, and the expression behind them was blank.

Safe.

“‘S’alright, baby,” he grunted. Maybe he’d just seen you wince, as he cradled your hand and withdrew another inch, “Keep squeezin’ me, it feels real good. Right here.”

Out of instinct, your gaze drifted down to the spot where his body joined with yours. The sight was hardly a shock, but the feelings it evoked were not—he had you split along two-thirds of his dick, a pretty shelf of belly protruding beneath and gleaming with the arousal he’d drawn out from your body. Tufts of silver and grey littered his skin in every direction, aged muscles tensed with the weight of each thrust, and the warm weathered hand that hadn’t dared touch you once before today was now cupping your chin. Tilting your head closer to him.

“Right here, baby. Look at daddy.”

Wild, unbridled heat flooded your brain in a second. The thing seared the insides of your skull with all the force of a fire and stole the air from your lungs just the same—still, you couldn’t refrain from making a face in disgust.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You shouldn’t have liked it.

His hand ascended your throat in a blink.

“Ain’t that what you want, sweet pea?”

“I—”

Just as you started to answer, though, his cock took a dizzying plunge, hitting exactly the right spot inside you. Like clockwork, your mouth fell open, a whine tumbled out, and Joel took that as his chance to grip your neck even tighter and push your hips against the washing machine, where his height afforded him an easy hold.

“What you want—”

He squeezed harder.

“—what you need—”

You gasped, starved for air. It wasn’t every day a man took your breath away. Not like Joel could, anyway.

“—is me, ain’t it?”

The gaze fixed on your face was alight with desire.

“Bet you miss him somethin’ awful, huh? Been needin’ a man to fill that spot ever since he left, haven’t ya, baby?”

‘He’ required no further clarification. The words stung. You communicated as much by wriggling your hips back and pressing your hand against Joel’s chest, just quit it.

Keep fucking me, but shut the fuck up about my father.

“I don’t miss shit,” you sniffed. Felt the head of Joel’s cock carve a shape somewhere deep inside your body and couldn’t pretend it wasn’t filling a metaphorical void someplace else. You hadn’t got this much attention from a man as many years your senior since…well, ever, really.

You preened beneath his touch. Wanting to feel. Wanting to please. Wanting, more than anything, to be needed.

Joel sated each craving with a simple hand smoothed over your face. His palm moved from your throat to your chin to the hinge of your jaw before coming to rest at the nape of your neck. This time squeezing lightly, bringing your face in close while he fucked you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and your stomach tightened inside you.

“That’s alright,” he said, words hardly above a whisper, “No need to miss that man at all, ‘cause I’m right here.”

For once the assurance came as somewhat of a comfort. You suspected it had something to do with the fact he was balls deep inside you and pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release with each painstaking stab of his cock. You fisted his flannel, holding him there. Spreading your legs, accepting his thrusts, taking each movement with ragged, shallow breaths and moans that blended with his own, you felt your body grow warmer.

Almost febrile beneath him as he tilted your head again.

“Who’s your daddy now?”

You winced, shaking your head. You hated that word.

“Who’s your daddy?”

Joel lowered his hand and began to thumb at your clit. Hot pleasure coursed through you, made you whine at the contact and dig your heels even deeper in his back.

“Who’s your daddy, baby? It ain’t that hard to say.”

But it was. Joel stroking your clit, stuffing you full, ghosting his lips against yours without ever furnishing a kiss, just goading you on with: ‘I know you wanna say it.’ Tough grey stubble teased your mouth with each word.

“I know she needs to cum, sweet girl. Know that poor little pussy’s taken a beating—and she’s done so good for me—but she needs to let it out now. All over me.”

His gaze held yours. You couldn’t turn away.

An unmistakable tenderness pervaded that look, and it didn’t seem keen to depart. No matter how tightly you pursed your lips, made fists in his shirt, or choked his cock between your walls in fluttering, desperate pleas, the man remained calm. Attentive. The eyes didn’t stray.

“It’s okay to say it.”

“C-Can’t—”

“Sure can. Be the easiest thing you ever do—D-A-D-D—”

“Please. Please.”

You hardly even knew what you were asking for at this point, only beholden to that big, swollen something in your tummy starting to give way beneath the push of Joel’s cock. Tightening up, leaking out, practically drooling down the length of this man who seemed relentless in his current pursuit. Two more circles on your clit and you were keening, whimpering pathetic as ever:

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Say it now. Who’s it for?”

Above you, Joel’s teeth gleamed in a smile—or a snarl, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the pleasure, the concomitant pain of having to contain this desperation while his thrusts sped up. You were bouncing on him, getting fucked against the washing machine in the raw and terrible central Texas heat wearing a sheen of sweat and a set of clothes that no longer fit your body, but that was just fine. You were okay. Joel was here, and he was holding your head, lips hovering less than an inch away.

“Who’s. Your. Daddy?” His words were slow. Coarse. Spilling into your mouth with every short puff of breath.

You couldn’t take it. You felt a band of pressure come to a head in your belly and the brush of Joel’s cock making its rounds in and out of your swollen cunt, pushing hard, and you knew that you’d had enough. He knew it, too.

“Y-You.”

“Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

Your wet, pearly slick rang a deafening pitch. Enough.

“You, daddy! Daddy—please, fuck—I-I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of your old man?”

“Make a m-mess— yes, daddy, yes—” you slurred.

Joel drove his cock, fully coated in you, down to the hilt. He captured your lips in a kiss and didn’t even mind your mouth was whining, hissing, whimpering its filthy pleas for him to fuck a nice, big orgasm out from your body.

“—want yours inside,” you added, without realizing it.

“Sweet girl…” Joel groaned.

You didn’t know what you were asking him for. How badly he wanted it, too. His cock dragged in and out of your precious cunt and was barely more safe from the threat of its grip when you spasmed, at the last. Joel should’ve expected no less, after all the time he’d spent teasing and edging, then begging you gently, in grunts, ‘Cum for daddy, baby. Let me have it, that’s it, good girl.’ Still, somehow, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

When you squeezed your eyes shut and kissed him back—that was all it took. When you clenched on his cock, gave the front of his shirt a tug, locked your ankles about his hips so you could more properly increase that friction by fucking him back, grinding in place, he feared he might fairly make an irreparable, unforgivable mistake.

And when the whites of your eyes appeared again—eyelids fluttering open while your lips were glossed with his spit and a lazy smile—and said what you said next, he sensed that his fate was sealed. The old man was fucked.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Joel couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He shuddered, then flooded your insides with rope after rope after rope of his spend, burying his face in your neck and taking your hips in his hands like a looser grip might lose you to him forever. He fucked his cum deep, deeper, darlin’ don’t move, can’t lose a drop, baby, please, he let out a whimper that made your walls pulse again. You felt him fill you to the brim and keep rutting his hips. Your body and his were shaking by the last of it.

And when he was finished, Joel dropped a kiss along your limp, glistening lips. He slid you back on the metal. By the expression on his face, it was plain to see he was loath to withdraw, but he had to. That tender little hiss and the sounds of your shared fluids trickling out were all the impetus he needed to act quick. As soon as he’d pulled out, Joel was back leaning against the washing machine—tilting your hips back a little, then lowering his sweaty, handsome head to the spot between your legs.

The wrinkles to the sides of his eyes grew more pronounced when he smiled. A happy grin, plastered across his lips, would have struck you as almost smug, were it not for the look of sheer adulation that followed it.

Joel was enthralled, watching his cum leak out of you. He kissed your thighs, flickered his gaze to your own, briefly, then damn near sank his nose inside the place he was watching before your fingers stopped him cold.

It was your body, after all. He had already had his fill.

Hardly knowing what came over you in that moment, you sank two fingers inside your wet, drooling hole and watched the eyes of the man beneath you go wide. He soaked in that sight completely: you pushing his cum back in, drawing it out, using the viscous white liquid as a lubricant of sorts before releasing a pleased little sigh.

Joel closed his mouth reluctantly. It took him more than a second to tear his eyes from that place, but when he did, the motions were quick to grow assured, by turns.

As if remembering something.

In a second, the innocent smile you’d seen before was being infiltrated, slowly, by a look you couldn’t place. Joel’s grin morphed from gentle to contented to plainly enthused and beaming ear-to-ear with a conceited glint. With his finger, he tugged your panties back into place.

“Baby—” he started, only to be cut off lightning-quick.

“What? What is it?”

His smile stretched even wider. By that act alone, you were half-tempted to forget the events of the last hour and set your jaw in a scowl. You looked down, unamused.

“What?”

“It’s just…” The man trailed off, and as he did, his gaze descended with it—straight down to your bare pantyline.

You cast a look there too—“What the fuck is it, Joel?!”

At that, two brown eyes flitted back up to you.

“I thought I asked for neon pink underwear, baby.”

Your breaths slowed. His gaze didn’t waver. Your heart came to a standstill in your chest, and you were amazed you had even half your present willpower then to speak.

“Wait, Joel, wh—”

“Shame you couldn’t get around to filmin’ today. Had me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that milk and honey stuff.”

You nearly choked on your spit. Joel kept grinning.

“You’re—”

The guy. That fucking subscriber. The one who’d paid almost $500 in commissions in the last month alone.

You stared at Joel with eyes as wide as saucers, and were about to press on, when you heard the front door to the house shriek back on its hinges. Two sets of footsteps followed it, and their entry inside was loud.

Immediately, Joel rose to his feet. It seemed that grin wasn’t meant to stay long on his lips, because the next thing you knew, he was dropping a kiss somewhere soft and sweaty on your face and flipping your skirt back into place, holding his index up to his lips and stepping away. Your mouth twisted into a frown but stayed zipped out of sheer necessity. Seeing this, and likely unable to help himself, your gross, depraved, grinning old man leaned back in and planted his hands on either side of your hips on the washing machine. His nose nudged into your own.

“Between us—” he began, slowly.

“Get fucked,” you finished for him.

Joel nodded his assent, smirk faint. He cast a look over his shoulder, and, hearing what sounded like your mother’s footsteps drawing closer, lowered his voice.

Rubbing his thumb under your chin, making you tip your head back to meet his for one final look—then a kiss:

“You keep my secret, I keep yours, alright?”

—

Note: I’ve never done a real writing challenge before, but hopefully this fic will work for #hotdilfsummerchallenge !!! @hellishjoel this is such a fun ass idea & i hope you enjoy❣️

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Stoner!Choso x reader

Cw: smut

My stoner Choso is a loser and I love him like this 🤧

“You look stressed,” Choso says, looking at you as he leaned against his car. “It was a stressful day,” you retorted, leaning against his car right next to him. He gives you a small smile as he takes a hit from the blunt between his fingers. 

You and Choso were friends. Really close friends. That was it. Both of you too scared to even say anything for the sake of your friendship. You were okay with this, he liked hanging out with you and so did you. But sometimes you catch yourself thinking, what would it be like to be more.  To be his. Would your relationship really change? You both already acted so much like a couple. 

The blunt comes slowly down from his lips, he looks over to you and smirks. You knew what he was about to do. “NO” you say suddenly, as he comes closer to blow the smoke in your face. “Ew, Cho. You know I hate that shit,” you remark as you try to waft the smoke out of your face. “I know,” he replies with a deep chuckle with no amount of remorse. “Want a hit?” he quickly asks, holding up the blunt. You think for a good few seconds but, obviously too long for how impatient Choso is because he’s already holding the blunt to your mouth already. “Go,” he encourages you as you begin inhaling. “Woah, woah slow down,” he smirks, removing the blunt from your lips. He watches you attentively as you exhale, studying your face as you glare at him. “I don’t like that,” you say with a small cough. 

He gives you a shit-eating grin before he takes another hit. “Wanna hear music then? Might help you relax,” he looks over to you once again exhaling the smoke. “I guess,” you say as you watch him walk over to the driver's side to turn on the car. He shifts through songs until he finds one he's sure you'd both like. “This good?” he asks as he hops out of the car. As you nod he sticks his hand out to you. “What?” you laugh. “Dance with me,” he requests. You can’t help but think how cute he looks, like a puppy with those big brown eyes begging you. “You’re high,” you scoff, giving him a smile. “No…” he grins again, taking your hands and pulling you closer into him.

You dance together, both of you high out of your minds with clumsy steps. Stepping on his feet more than you’d liked to admit, but you still notice the way he looks at you. His eyes half closed, slightly red, gazing intently at you. Lips slightly chapped and parted, his hair down, head slightly tilted as you feel him leaning in closer and closer into you. Your heart beats faster as you become more conscious of his hands. Wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he is afraid you’ll run away from him. 

And before you know it, you're making out with him against his car. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers threading through his soft brown strands, while his hands gently trace any exposed skin he can find as his other hand holds your thigh up, pulling you closer to him. Kisses growing hotter and more needy, he can’t help but slowly grind into you. Desperate for some type of friction against his hard-on and you gladly meet his sudden movements. Bodies pressed together as they move in a rhythmic motion, unable to stop the urge to get closer to each other. Choso leaves your lips with a small tug. “More… more please,” he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

Placing small kisses on your neck, you can’t help but give into him. Especially once you’re in his car, windows all fogged up, and his fingers deep inside you. “So pretty f’me” he coos as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Does.. does it feel good?” he hesitantly asks. “Yes, yes, so good cho.” As you make his confidence spike with your praise, he turns you over so you're now face to face sitting on him. “Please, can you please ride me?” he begs you, flashing you once again those big brown eyes. And who are you to deny this pretty boy… 

“Fu- fuck… baby,” Choso whines, trying to buck his hips up into you. “Wait, be patient cho,” you line up his cock to your entrance and slowly move down onto him. “So pretty,” Choso gawks at you as his hands come up to your tits. A string of curses escape your mouth as you finally take him all. His hands wrap around you to keep you in place as your back arches. “Can I move inside you now?” he asks, confusion spreading across your face. “I’m supposed to move…” you question. His hands quickly grip at the flesh on your hips. 

“Can’t” thrust “Wait” thrust. 

Choso loses control and continues to thrust into you roughly. Moving his hands to your ass, he lifts you up and down on his cock. Your tits bouncing in his face with every hard thrust. Without a second thought, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Tongue skillfully swirling around it as he sucks it, still pumping into you relentlessly. He's left you speechless, all you could do was moan at the way he was using you. One of his hands from your ass comes up.

Smack

His hand comes down hard on your ass. He does it a few more times, each slapping leaving a slight red mark on your hot flesh. Still pounding you merciless, he attaches his lips to you once again. “M’so close… so close” he mumbles through the kiss. “Can I cum please?” he groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck, you’re getting so tight,” he whines and you could almost swear you see tears if it wasn’t so damn dark. You finally give him a nod as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. A chant of thank you’s fly out his mouth.

“Thank you.. thank.. you,” he whimpers as he fills you up. His warm cum mixing with your wetness, attempting to drip down your thighs. Both of you panting heavily as he pulls out. Choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. “Can.. can i taste you?”

Your jaw drops slightly as his sudden request. “You want to eat me out? After how hard you just fucked me?” you ask as you take notice of his little grin. 

Somehow he managed to lay you down… as comfortably as he could and went to town. Burying his face between your legs. His tongue flick up and down, tasting you. Lapping up both your arousal and his own cum. “So.. greedy cho,” you tease him, watching how pussy drunk he’s  getting. “I love.. love.. love so much,” he hums into your cunt, sending vibrations through it. 

“You talking to my pussy or me?” you laugh softly and you tangle your fingers through his hair. “Both..” he mumbles, refusing at all to come up for air. He continues to fuck you with his tongue. Eating you out as if you were his last meal. He notices as you arch your back, quickly picking up the pace because he knew you were so close. “Cum on my face.. please,” he groans. And you do just that. You cream all over his pretty face. “You taste so good,” he whispers, feeling his hot breath on your pussy. He looks down at his work, admiring how fucked out you look. He helps you sit back up, being as gentle as he could be. “Look, we made my windows all foggy,” he smiles as his finger comes up to draw a heart. “You’re so dumb,” you giggle. 

[cameronluvr]

BABY TRAPPED — dark!rafe x fem reader

summary: rafe purposely gets you pregnant against your own will after you choose the pogues instead of him.

warnings: 18+ !!, DUBCON, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, dark!rafe, arguing, fighting, choking, SMUT, fingering, slapping, unprotected sex (p in v) forced sex, jealous!rafe, kinda stalker!rafe, kidnapping(?), creampie, teen pregnancy. (lmk if anymore!)

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ PART 2

you had been at john b’s chateau for most of the day hanging out with your friends, but you’d promised your parents you’d be home before midnight. looking at the time on your phone, you noticed it was 11:13 pm.

you’d been drinking a little bit, and so had your friends, so driving home wasn’t an option. “guys, i’m gonna need to leave soon” you say over the mild volume of music playing.

“why?” kiara asks. “my parents told me i had to be home before 12. they’re kinda worried about me because of the whole.. you know.. rafe thing” you reply.

over the past few weeks you’d been going through a rough breakup with rafe. you couldn’t handle him anymore. his anger, his jealousy, his everything. he was no good for you anymore, and with the whole rafe vs pogues situation, you had to pick a side. your boyfriend or your best friends.

you had to pick your friends. there was no other choice, no other way out. rafe had tormented your friends for months. he pulled his gun on them, he beat them up, he attempted to kill kiara and his own sister sarah. and he almost killed you.

you’d lost track of how many fights you had with him, how many times he hit you and you hit him back. the screaming wars you’d have always ended up with him choking you or slapping you, and ward having to physically pull him away from you.

you just couldn’t put up with him anymore. he was manipulative, toxic, and most of all abusive. your friends knew about all of this, and tried so hard to get you away from him, but you couldn’t escape from him. he’d always convince you otherwise, guilt trip you, lie to you, twist your words…

“ya’ want me to walk you home?” jj asks, sitting beside you, smoking his blunt. you think about it for a second, but decline his offer. “thanks, but i’m okay, really. i’ll be fine” you nod and smile. “you sure?” sarah asks from across the room as they all practically look at you as if you were crazy. rafe was crazy, and if he saw you alone, only god knows what he would do…

“yeah, i’m good. i think i need to be alone anyway. take a nice walk by myself” you shrug. you hadn’t really had much alone time in months, considering you had a boyfriend glued to your hip out of distrust.

“okay, well, please call us if you need us, m’kay?” sarah says, walking over to you to hug you. she’s worried for you the most, you’re her best friend and her own brother is ruining your life. “i will, promise” you smile, standing up to hug her tightly.

“love you, y/n” kiara says with a smile as you walk out the door, saying bye to them all. you blow a kiss to kie before shutting the door behind you. they all know you’re going through a tough time, so they’re trying their best to be there for you and look out for you. they all love you.

walking home now, you stroll down the dark, long road ahead, with nothing surrounding you but tall trees and dim streetlights. no people, no lit-up houses, just dark and quiet streets with people in bed.

you walk for ten more minutes before you hear a car approaching from behind you. you give it no thought though, not wanting to worry yourself. the car gets closer, as if it were going to drive straight past you, but suddenly, you hear the car slowing down and eventually stopping right next to you. you don’t want to look, but you have to.

your heart sank into your chest when you noticed rafe’s black range rover, right as the window rolled down. it was rafe. “y/n get in.” his tone demanding and angry. “no, leave me alone.” you quickly turn around, power walking away. however, he only follows you. he slowly drives, following you, speeding up and slowing down whenever you do.

“y/n just get in i wanna talk” he says out the window, resting his arm on it as he watches you, attempting to talk to you. “rafe, leave me the fuck alone.” your voice gets louder, but you’re not yelling, yet. “save yourself the hassle and get in for fuck’s sake” he says, getting more frustrated by the second.

“no” you say, not looking in his direction at all. “oh my god” he says, sighing before putting the car in park and getting out. “no, go away!” you say, attempting to run but he grabs you before you can. you thrash around in his arms before he picks you up and drags you to his car.

“put me down!” you yell at him, trying to fight him but he is much stronger than you are. he opens the passenger door, shoving you inside before quickly getting in the drivers seat and locking the doors.

“what the fuck are you d—” you scream at him before his hand roughly covers your mouth, shutting you up. “i just wanted to talk, but you always have to make it hard, don’t you?” he says, eventually letting go of your mouth and seeing a mark left over from how tight his grip was.

“i don’t want to fucking talk! you yell as he rolls the windows all the way up so nobody can hear you fussing. “i don’t care. who the fuck do you think you are?” he yells at you, making you flinch. “what?” your eyebrows furrow.

“choosing those fucking trash pogues over me. are you serious? dumping me for them?” he argues. you’ve had this argument with him plenty of times, he seems to not be able to let it go. or let you go. “rafe. i didn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, okay? you’re abusive, you’re mean, you’re—” you say, only to be cut off by his laughter. “abusive? for wanting to protect you? for wanting the best for you? right” he squints his eyes. “wanting the best for me? are you serious? you’ve done nothing but hurt me, and hurt my friends, including your own sister, by the way!” you argue, but he scoffs and tuts, as if they were nothing.

“because i told you so many fucking times to stay away from them, didn’t i?” he screams in your face, watching as you flinch with fear. “yeah, you did, but they are my friends, rafe, sarah is my best friend and you tried to kill her? she’s your fucking sister you should love her more than you love me” you say, voice getting higher out of frustration for him. how can he be so naive and cruel?

“her? she’s no sister of mine. that bitch has always been against me” he scoffs, speaking so lowly of his own little sister. “no she hasn’t, rafe!” you try to tell him, but every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie according to his delusions.

“right, whatever.” he rolls his eyes at you and your ‘lies’, but he just doesn’t want to accept the truth. he’s the problem, he turned everyone against himself. “i love you, yeah? i never stopped” he suddenly says, looking at you.

“well i have.” you say, but hearing those words were gut wrenching to him. you crossed the line. he unexpectedly and quickly reaches over, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing his fingers.

“i never wanna hurt you, y/n. you make me do it. i want to love you, but when you’re running off with your little friends behind my back, you make it hard to trust you, yeah?” he explains in his usual manipulative tone.

“rafe…” you force out, feeling as his grip tightens, his nails basically digging into your skin. “can you let me love you like i want to? like i’ve been trying to?” he asks, watching as your face turns redder and redder.

he loves watching you struggle, it was his favorite part of having power over you. it’s like it turns him on to hurt you. “please.. stop…” you struggle to say as he just keeps begging for your love.

“y/n, let me show you how much i really love you. please?” he asks softly, looking at you with adoration as if his own hand isn’t almost causing you to lose consciousness. he was psychotic. “ok.. ok.. yeah.. just let me go” you choke, nodding your head as fast as you can. you didn’t want to agree, but you had to otherwise he wasn’t going to stop.

and who knows what he would’ve done if you had passed out? you’d dread to think. “yeah? atta’ girl. i knew you’d come to terms with me sooner or later” he says, smiling as if he didn’t force the right answer out of you. he lets go of your throat, loving the sound of you gasping for air and regaining your breath.

you wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to insult him and call him names but most importantly, you didn’t want him to actually kill you. “let’s go somewhere private, hm?” he suggests, like you could say no. you stay silent in his passenger seat, nodding at everything he’s saying, submitting to your fear of him.

he puts the car into gear and begins driving off. he drives five minutes down the road before turning down an off road path which lead to the lake, but he stopped in the secluded path surrounded by more trees, and more darkness.

turning his engine off, he turns to face you. “do you love me?” he asks. you’re terrified to answer. you’d be lying if you said yes, but if you said no, you’d find out. “…yes” you gulp, fearing him deeply. “good girl” he smirks, smelling your fear like a dog could.

he loves it. he loves you being afraid to say something he doesn’t want to hear, that’s the first step to being the perfect girlfriend in his eyes, you always know the right answer.

he turns in his seat to face you, reaching his hand over to your thigh. he rubs it, trailing his hand up and closer to your pussy, but you shift your legs the other way to move his hand away, making him grab your thigh and moving it back to where it was.

“don’t act like you don’t want it. you just said you love me” he leans over, darkly whispering in your ear which sent shivers down your spine. “i.. i do” you lie, not wanting to send him over the edge. he smirks at your words, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you don’t want his touch, but you need it.

“rafe…” you whisper, trying your best not to want it but it’s difficult when he’s kissing your neck and moving his hand up your thigh again, only this time you don’t move your legs when he gets close to your pussy. you’re wearing jeans, so you feel his hand unbuttoning them which made you nervous, but you let it happen anyway.

“what baby?” he whispers, lifting his head from your neck to look at you. “i—” you say, cut off by the feeling of his cold hand slipping into your jeans. you jump at the temperature of his skin, which made him laugh. “come on, just take it” he licks his lips, looking at yours before kissing them. you kiss him back, and eventually start making out with him.

mid kiss, his hand slips into your panties, making you hum a moan. “you like that?” he asks, rubbing circles on your clit before breaking the kiss. “mhm” you hum, but his other hand reaches behind your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “use your words, princess” he tells you, his dark eyes staring into yours. “…yes.” you hesitate to say, but you go along with it for your own safety and his sanity.

“hmm.. good” he smirks, letting go of your hair and kissing you again before his hand slid down your pussy, to your hole. you gasp at his sudden movement, but he chuckles at you. “you’re so wet. i’m always turning you on, huh?” he says, opening his mouth and mocking your gasp.

you chuckle too, wanting him to know you’re on the same page. after seconds of his fingers teasing your hole, he slides two of them into you. you gasp, moaning as his fingers fill you up to his knuckles. “so deep..” you moan, tensing up in your seat at his touch.

but it wasn’t long before he had you stripped off and sitting on his lap with the seat pushed all the way back. “fuck” he moans at the sight of your pretty tits, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.

“if we do this… will you leave me alone after?” you ask, terrified to say but it needed to be said. “yeah, of course, i promise” he says like it’s nothing, like he didn’t even hear those words come out of your mouth. you were expecting a different reaction, but he had a different plan.

you felt like you had to have sex with him one last time for him to be able to move on from you. or so you thought that’s how it would be. “i love you, but if i need to leave for you to be happy, then i will” he says, almost believably.

but that was a lie.

pulling his boxers off allowed his hard dick to spring out, hitting your leg. you both giggle before starting to make out again, where his hands slid from your ass cheeks to your hips, his fingers twirling the sides of your panties before pulling them down and off your feet.

“ride me, princess” he says, both of your warm areas touching. you nod, lifting yourself up and positioning yourself above his cock before his hands roughly gripped your waist, pulling you to sit down on it.

you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. “fuuuck” he drags, closing his eyes as he pulled you up and down, choosing the speed and roughness for you. your moans cried out, you didn’t know if it hurt or felt good more.

“i missed you so much. i missed this pussy” he tells you, his hands roaming your naked back as his dick harshly thrusts up into you. “i missed you” you say, knowing you didn’t mean a single word. your horniness and desire to please him took over.

“you’re mine, baby” he tells you, his fingernails digging into your hips, making you cry out. he was so good at pleasing your pussy that you ruled out the pain he caused. “…always” you say, starting to question whether or not he was being honest about leaving you alone.

his pace is rough, he’s fucking you so harshly that you don’t think he’s ever gone this hard on you before. it hurts, but it hurts so good. “ow.. fuck.. rafe” you moan loudly like a porn star. “that’s it, baby” he says, feeling closer and closer to coming each time he thrust up into you.

your legs start to burn and ache, and he can tell by how much your legs are shaking. so he pulls you off of him, and guides you into the back seats where he climbs over after you.

he lays you down on your back, spreading your bodies over the three seats. he positions his cock near your pussy again, before sliding in with no warning. you moan, wrapping your arms around his back and gripping his shoulders. “fuckkk” he moans in your ear, making you much wetter. no matter how much you hate rafe cameron, his moans were your weakness.

the rougher and meaner he got, the more aroused he was. it wasn’t long before he started choking you, and slapping you around. it’s what he does during sex. he loves the power, he loves the dominance he has over you. you allowed it, though, because this was the last time. right?..

minutes later, you you felt him speeding up and becoming more tense, which meant he was gonna finish any second now. you, however, weren’t even close to finishing. it did feel good, but it didn’t change your feelings for him. you can’t come over somebody you hate so much.

“fuck baby.. ‘m gonna cum…” he says, twitching his dick as he empties his load into you. you moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up and leaking out after. he slowly pulls out, smirking knowing he’s hiding a huge secret from you.

he snuck into your house a few days ago while you were out with the pogues, and swapped your birth control pills for fake ones. but you had no idea…

it wasn’t until two weeks later when you were throwing up in your toilet, and crying your eyes out when you realized you’d missed your period. “fuck” you say, grabbing an emergency pregnancy test from the cabinet above the sink. you had them hidden in there just in case.

you take the pregnancy test, pacing around your bathroom for five minutes straight, waiting for the results. boom. the alarm you’d set on your phone goes off, five minutes is up. you switch the alarm off and gulp, slowly reaching for the pregnancy test. you pick it up, and gasp when you read the answer.

POSITIVE.

what the fuck are you supposed to do now?…

NOT PROOFREAD. probably some mistakes, but my FIRST smut writing?!?!😩😩 plssssss lmk what y’all think! <333

@cameronluvr

[am3ricanh0rrorwh0re]

luke cooper x fem!reader

summary: Luke Cooper, the nepotism hire at Dunder Mifflin, starts to get a little crush on you.

warnings: nsfw, car sex, fingering, unchecked writing, smut with little plot

a/n: i had nothing to title this one ✌️

”Coffee monkey has arrived,” You heard Luke’s voice say as he walked into the office area, holding a cardboard carton of coffees. An audible sigh of annoyance escaped the workforce of Dunder Mifflin as a whole, including yourself.

Luke Cooper. Michael Scott’s nephew, who apparently Michael hasn’t seen because he was cut off from that side of his family. No fucking wonder. Luke was lazy, incompetent, ignorant. But Michael still ordered that everyone had to not nag or bother Luke. Nepotism in its finest form, just like fine cut cocaine. Except cocaine actually gave some form of pleasure and satisfaction. Unlike Luke.

“You got my order right, Luke…” You say. Luke gave that smug-ass smile. Luke’s eyes looked you up and down with a smile. It’s like he always got everything right about you. It was weird.

“Just the way you like it, right?” Luke asked, smiling. You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his antics of giving you special attention.

You walked back over to your desk, sighing as you stared down at the cup of Starbucks. Why the fuck was he so lazy with everyone else? He was so lazy, that all he practically did was sit there, smile, and laugh like he was fucking high. But for some reason, you found that…endearing?

About half an hour later, Luke came up to your desk. He smiled at you, tapping his hands on the wood of your desk. You look up a him with a sharp exhale. You put on a fake smile and looked up at him.

“Hey,” You smile.

“Hi,” He smiled back. It was a really bland start to a conversation. He looked exhausted, like always. Exhausted or high.

"What do you need, Luke?" You asked, looking up from your computer screen. Luke had been known for coming around your desk just to annoy you with his antics, but you always brushed him off.

"Nothing, nothing," He replied, scratching the back of his head nervously. You could already guess what he wanted to ask you. But since he hadn't stated it yet, you gave him a chance to spill before you did. 

“I just thought, we haven't hung out ever. Wanna go smoke in my car?" He suggested, smirking slyly.

Letting out a small sigh, you begrudgingly agreed, “Fine. Let’s go.”

soon enough, you two were sitting in the backseat of Luke’s red car, sharing a cigarette with the windows rolled down. “Why do you always get my order right?” You ask.

“Well,” Luke began, taking a drag from his cigarette before blowing out a cloud of smoke. He looked away, clearly trying to come up with a believable excuse. 

“It's simple, really. I pay extra attention to your order so I can get it right. It’s not that hard.” He grinned, trying to hide his nervousness. Maybe he could sense that you saw straight through his lie.

After a few moments of silence, he continued, "Besides... I like making sure you're happy." He muttered, glancing at you sideways. His eyes met yours for a brief moment before he quickly looked away again.

“And I enjoy spending time with you.” He couldn't help but blush as he admitted that last part, the truth behind his actions slowly slipping out. He took another drag from his cigarette, watching the tip glow with each puff. He then offered you his pack of cigarettes, holding it out to you so you could have one if you wanted.

 "Want another? Or should I take it as a sign you're mad?" He joked, trying to lighten the mood. You shake your head, sliding closer to him.

Luke sighs, looking out the window as you scooted closer. He smiled, starting with a quick place of his hand on your thigh. Soon though, you were on his lap, naked from the torso down.

Luke’s fingers slid in and out of your core with precision, like he’d done this a million times before. But you knew he hadn’t. No one would ever in a million years want Luke Cooper’s fingers up their pussy. No one except you. You moaned, your fingers digging into his pants like you were hanging onto a cliff.

“L-Luke-“ You whine, your legs shaking. He laughs at you, moving his fingers in and out quicker now, curving his fingers upwards inside of you. You squeak, exhaling shakily.

He grabs your hips, placing you down next to him as he pulled his fingers out of you. Luke unbuckled his belt before sliding down his pants and boxers. His cock shot up, flushed and covered in precum. He twitched as he looked at you, sighing. You straddled him, hovering just over his tip.

“You’re such a tease,” He whined, grabbing your hips as he forced you down onto his cock gently. A lot more gently than you thought he would. You let out a sharp gasp, your eyes closing as you panted softly.

Luke held your hips, bouncing you up and down on his cock. You never knew you had feelings for Luke until you were riding his dick. Well, you never knew your feelings were this strong. No matter how much he annoyed you, you always wanted to fuck his brains out

. The tip hit your g-spot, making you moan loudly. One of Luke’s hands covered your mouth, his other holding your neck.

“Shh, shh, shh…slower, slower, okay? we can’t rock the car, they’ll see us from up in the office,” He chuckled, panting softly as he held your neck. Luke squeezed your neck, his hand coming off of your mouth to unbutton your shirt.

“That’s it…that’s it. perfect…” He said huskily as you slowed down your bounces. Luke unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it off to kiss your chest. “I knew all these coffee runs would get me somewhere,”

taglist: @fear-is-truth , @dangeroustaintedflawed , @newwavesylviaplath @slutforgarlogan @nickrhodeslittledarling @coentinim @foreverlovestruck

all rights reserved !!

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Boyfriend's Best friend | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Like the embers shared between you and your boyfriend's bestie, boundaries are burned away until there's nothing but smoke and ash. Can you come back from being too badly burned by the mistake you two made? Or will the bitter taste remain, ruining everything?

•Pairings: Han Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, heavy use of weed, betrayal, lies, secrets, regret, heartbreak, college au, friends to ?

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

Your boyfriend of one year is cheating on you.

You knew that; he just doesn't know that you know. Even his best friend knows you know, but out of respect for your wishes, he's kept quiet. Why? Because despite Danny and Jisung being inseparable since diapers, Jisung has been a true friend to you since you met Danny at the coffee shop years ago. Jisung isn't just someone you share music theory class with; he's also the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Respirator, where you play the drums.

So you've got an alliance with Jisung. He was there for you the night you found out. Alone in the campus auditorium, you texted Jisung. Your first instinct was to call your best friend Ana, but interrupting her date with Chris was out of the question. Jisung stayed with you in that cold, creepy theater and let you cry into his chest for hours. He just couldn't understand why you continued to stay, why you continued to let Danny fuck you, knowing he's fucking someone else. He knew where his friend was before he'd come back to their shared apartment and yet he'd hear your moans through the poorly insulated walls.

“I have no excuse for him, Y/N. He's an asshole for playing you like this. I've tried to get him to see the error of his ways, but fuck… he's only thinking with his dick,” Jisung says, shaking his head and glancing at his friend who's fast asleep on the couch.

A night of forgotten textbooks and study notes overtaken by weed, beer, and pizza has knocked your boyfriend out cold. You don't look in the direction of the couch; instead, you inhale the hot smoke from the joint between your fingers, letting your head fall back before blowing the smoke into the air. You lay down on the hard cedarwood floor, your foot lightly bumping one of the many pillows piled up in one corner where Jisung sits.

“Yeah, there's no point in talking to him, Ji. He'll only do what he wants, not what's right,” you say, taking another hit and passing it over to Jisung.

Your fingers brush when he reaches for it, and you feel tempted to crawl over to him so he can hug the numb feeling in your chest away. You could use some genuine affection after watching Danny sneak off earlier with the excuse of needing to speak to his Tech professor. But if Mr. Campbell has turned into a little blonde with pigtails and a short pink skirt, then he most definitely wasn't in a meeting with his professor.

The little blonde… you don't even know who she is or if she even goes to college. The only thing you know is that you are nothing like her. Where her wardrobe is probably ninety percent pink, yours is ninety percent black. Typical style of a girl in a band: your jeans have rips in them and are either too tight or too loose. Your shirts are a bit of the same; sometimes they hug the curves of your breasts and waist, other times they swallow you up. Your thoughts are heavy in your smoky, hazy mind, and the soft strumming from Jisung's guitar sets the ambiance of your momentary self-pity.

“Maybe I should change up my style, Ji. Do you think then he might love me again?”

God, that sounds awful, you think as soon as the words leave your mouth. You cover your face with your hands and then drape them over your stomach. The baggy My Chemical Romance band tee has bunched up, and your midsection feels the occasional breeze from the open window, making you shiver.

“Nah, Y/N, don't think that. Your style is what makes you, you. If he can't see how hot you are no matter what you wear, then that's his problem, not yours,” Jisung says seriously.

You hear him suck in the smoke and exhale slowly. With heavy lids, you turn your head to the side and look at him. He smiles as his fingers glide over the strings of his fiery red guitar, his eyes half-lidded and pink with a lazy smile.

“Thanks, Ji,” you mumble and return the equally lazy smile.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze lingering longer than usual, and it unexpectedly makes your pulse race. There's something about his eyes that has always had a hypnotic effect on you. Siren eyes, they lure you in, making it impossible to escape unless he lets his gaze drop. He closes his eyes when the smoke threatens to get in them, breaking the hold you weren’t even aware he had on you.

The joint hangs from his lips, a thin trail of smoke billowing up around the rim of his hat and curling toward the ceiling. He inhales slowly, the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales and opens his eyes, watching the way you look at him. So laid-back with that dreamy expression on your face, his thoughts betray him for the third time tonight. An image created from smoke appears in his mind: you're looking at him exactly the way you are now, only you're on your knees as he cradles your face in his hands, fucking himself into your warm mouth. That’s the tamest fantasy he's had tonight. The others are far more explicit, like scenes pulled straight from a hentai.

Throughout the night, Jisung struggled to focus on any of his study material. It wasn't just because he was mentally drained from studying. Sure, that was part of it, but the sight of you chewing on your lush pink lips while you went over your notes for music theory kept distracting him. They looked so soft and your constant chewing made them red and puffy. He wondered if you dug your teeth into the flesh just like that when Danny was inside you. He couldn't help but picture you whimpering and whining past your trapped bottom lip while he drilled his dick into your sweet pussy. He already knows what you sound like so it's not hard to imagine the faces you would make.

He couldn't shake the image of those same lips of yours being covered in his warm, sticky cum. His imagination was too vivid with you right in front of him and the weed from the gummy he ate before you and Danny showed up. He had been rock hard and throbbing for hours, making studying beyond frustrating. It turned into a battle with his own mind. So he was more than happy to welcome the smoke sesh. Sure, he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming about his buddy's girl, but it's not like he'd ever act on it. It's all just harmless thoughts, he told himself. It's not like he was in love with you or anything… he just found you to be the embodiment of perfection in human form. Seriously, Danny calls you Jisung's twin more times than you're aware, so it's natural for him to think of you as the coolest chick he's ever met. You wouldn't be in the band he created if he didn't think highly of you.

“You want another hit?” he asks, holding the joint out to you with his index finger and thumb.

Your eyes lock onto his hands, noticing the multiple silver rings that decorate each of his long fingers and the veins that crisscross the back of his. More times than you can count you've heard girls talking about how sexy his hands were and you never noticed how right they are until now. Noticing the way his fingers loosely wraps around the neck of the guitar, your brain goes to the gutter and starts wondering if that's how he holds his cock when he's jerking off to the sound of you getting fucked. You know he does it. You could see it in his face one day when you bumped into him on the way to the bathroom. His hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and the large swallow he made when your bodies connected told you what he was doing in the next room.

With a slow nod, you sit up and move closer and take it from him, your fingers brushing against his again only this time there's something that passes between you but you ignore it, bringing the joint to your lips and taking a deep drag.

You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhale slowly, watching the tendrils curl into the air. You feel the heat, the burn of the smoke and it feels almost euphoric. The room feels warmer, cozier, and everything with your boyfriend is forgotten for now with more thc in you. Jisung watches you, completely captivated by the way you wrap your lips around the filter end gently and suck in the smoke. His eyes darken for just a second before he pats the space in front of him on the floor.

“Come here, I'll teach you the basics,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

“Really?” you ask excitedly after taking another puff and setting the joint into the ashtray. He chuckles, nodding with a large smile your way.

You close the distance, settling between his legs with your back to his front and it feels like the most normal natural thing in the world. He hands you the instrument resting it in your lap, and his arms encircle you as he guides your hands to the strings. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck, slow and even. His breath is warm, smelling faintly of the weed you just shared, and sugary soda that's oddly comforting to you.

“What song do you want to play?” he asks, his voice a soft hush against your ear. The sensation to your ear and the deep rumble on your back from when he speaks, makes you shiver involuntarily.

You think for a moment, your mind swimming through the smoky haze and then you smile. "Thinking Out Loud?" you say phrasing it like a question.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Ah, my man Sheeran. Good choice, y/n. Not gonna lie, I thought you'd pick one of our songs." he murmurs, taking your hand in his and begins to guide your fingers over the strings.

The notes are clumsy at first, your movements unsure but Jisung is patient, his hands steady as he teaches you the chords. You giggle softly as you fumble through the chords, “Good thing I'm a drummer. This is harder than it looks.” You say with a laugh and Jisung’s laughter mingles with yours.

His hands are warm and strong, his touch firm but gentle. He's the perfect guitar teacher, kind and informative. Once you start to get the hang of playing, he lets you play on your own, his arms still loosely around you, elbows resting on his knees. He begins to sing softly, his voice smooth and melodic fills the room and your heart with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"... People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand,"

His voice is mesmerizing, hypnotic even and you’re impressed. You've heard him sing but nothing as soft as this. Each note wraps around you like a tight embrace. You join in on the last four verses, the thc boosting your confidence and your voices come together sweetly. The song ends with the last note and chord lingering in the air. You’re giggling excitedly, so lost in the music, that you almost don’t notice the hardness pressing against your back until your laughter subsides. Your body feels suddenly hot when you do, a flush spreading across your skin. You turn your head slightly to look at him, intending to say something, but the words catch in your throat.

He knows you can feel it, how can you not? He's rock hard. It's not that he was thinking of anything particularly sexy. It was your singing voice that did it for him. The way your voices mingled together sounded hauntingly beautiful to him. Not to mention the barely noticeable vibration through your body when you sang. He has no control over the effect you had on him. He willed is dick to go down the entire time you two sang but there was nothing he could do but pray you wouldn't notice. That was out of the question once your laughter shook your body. His cock twitched  inside of his shorts, pulsating against your back. He held his breath and hoped you wouldn't say anything but you turned to look at him. You parted your lips prepared to speak but said nothing, only quiet panting made its way out of you. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms and your lips, right there so close to his, made something inside of him crack.

Before you can react, Jisung’s lips are on yours, kissing you with sudden urgency. Your mind goes blank, every thought drowned out by the intensity of the kiss. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back closer to him like you'll drift away like the smoke of the joints from earlier. You can’t help but respond, your fingers tangling in his hair knocking his hat off as you kiss him back desperate for more. Jisung’s grip on you tightens as his tongue explores your mouth with a desperate need. The guitar is forgotten, pushed aside as he shifts, turning you so that you're facing him. He gently lays you down onto the pile of pillows on the floor, his body pressing you down into the pile that feels like clouds. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, it's all amplified by the cannabis coursing through your veins.

"Y/N," Jisung whispers, his voice rough with desire, as he presses his clothed erection against your core. The friction is maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you and you moan in response as your hips come up off the ground, bucking against him.

You're not thinking anymore, your hands just move on their own seeking more of what's making you feel so good. Everything around you is hazy and black around the edges like a dream. All you’re aware of is the incredible sensation that seems to take over your entire body.

"Jisung…" you breathe, your voice trembling.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. He silently pleads for you to tell him to stop but you can't. You don't want him to stop. You want him, need him in a way that you can't describe with words.

"Don't stop." you whisper back, your voice barely audible. “More.”

He growls low in his throat, his hands squeezing your hips as he starts to move faster, the pressure building, driving you both closer to the edge. It feels incredible, each rub, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through you. Jisung’s hips move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he grinds against you. You can feel yourself getting close, building to a crescendo and you know he's close too, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He doesn't care that he's about to cum in his pants just from dry humping you. You feel so damn incredible in his arms. But you stop him suddenly, your hands on his chest and he looks at you with wide glassy eyes. 

"I need you inside me." you say, your voice breathy and husky.

He stops his movements, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your hands moving to his shorts, tugging them down. "Yes. Please. Fuck me, Jisung."

In the haze of weed and pleasure, a thought cuts through the fog. This is wrong. Danny is just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in Jisung’s bed. But the thought is fleeting, quickly drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Jisung’s body pressing into yours. He fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You lift your hips, helping him slide your leggings and panties down in one quick move. Back between your legs, he positions himself at your entrance and a bead of precum forms, dripping down and disappearing into one of the pillows. His eyes meet yours as he rubs the head of his cock up and over your folds, collecting your arousal and getting tip nice and wet. You shudder keeping your eyes locked onto his. 

He rubs the length of his cock against you, teasing your clit in a circular motion. Maybe if he doesn't actually fuck you, it's not that big of a betrayal to his friend, he thinks lamely, knowing how idiotic that sounds. Still, Jisung convinces himself that if there's no actual penetration, maybe he won't feel so guilty. If he just gets you both off like this, he could somewhat live with himself.

Your body shakes under him each time he thrusts upward, and he can feel your pussy getting wetter, making things far more slippery. "Yeah, you can cum like this, y/n, I know you can. Just cum like this for me. Fuck, let me cum on your stomach, and we can innocently continue our night," he coaxes you inside his head, his hips moving faster. You're so wet that Jisung slips and slides over your pussy with ease. He misjudges when he goes to push up again, moving far too quickly and slams hard into your cunt, making you both moan louder than intended. Both of you freeze, glancing over at Danny as he shifts in his sleep and rolls over to face the back of the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you and Jisung groan quietly in unison, trying to stay still with your hearts beating fast with fear.

"Fuck, you're so tight, y/n," he groans, his voice quiet and strained. "You feel so fucking good."

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. But it doesn't take long for the need to take over and soon he's fucking you forcefully and fast, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate intensity. Each thrust hits a spot deep inside you, that makes you want to scream. You close your eyes and see spots of lights behind your lids in the same purple hue that glows around the TV in the room. You can barely form coherent thoughts, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. All you can do is moan his name, over and over, as he takes your pleasure higher. The room is filled with the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene noises of your arousal mixing with your moans and his grunts.

He leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts and you can taste the sweet saltiness of his sweat on his skin. His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through your bra, adding to the onslaught of sensations. You can’t keep your hands off him, your fingers dig into his back as he fucks you hard, gliding down his skin making thin faint red lines. Jisung's thoughts are a mess. He's never felt like this before, never been this out of control. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, that he's betraying his best friend, but he can't stop. Your pussy feels too good to him, too perfect. You're perfect. The way your pussy pulls him in and squeezes his cock. It's heaven to him.

“So wet… oh god. So fucking perfect, y/n. Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at you.

You can only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts harder, faster. The pleasure is a flame setting you both ablaze. It’s messy and intense, growing bigger and wilder with every touch and movement amplified by the high.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice rough.

Jisung’s dominance surprises you, the way he takes control, guiding your body with a confidence that leaves you breathless. You open your eyes and gasp at the expression on his face. His face is a contradiction of emotions.

“Jisung!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling toward the edge. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, with a smirk on his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Ji… Jisung, I’m close.” you gasp, your hands pulling him closer. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you.

"Cum when I tell you to, y/n. Just a little more." he moans, closing his eyes. "Ah! Little more, a little more, baby. Yeah... oh fuck." He whispers, slowing his pace to pull out of you completely and thrust back in quickly.

He can feel himself getting closer and he starts to move faster. His thrusts become more frantic, more crazed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure is too overwhelming. You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as your body tenses and the orgasm hits. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure floods through your veins leaving you breathless, shaking.

"Ji, Ji I'm cumming!" you gasp, your hands gripping him hard feeling him batter your cervix with the head of his cock.

Jisung’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Yeah, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck!"

Your walls clench around him, milking his cock as he continues to pound into you. With a loud moan, you fall apart. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you feeling utterly and thoroughly fucked and incapacitated.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, y/n! I'm cumming-Ah!" he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

He thrusts a few more times before he cums, spilling into you as he moans your name. The feeling of his warmth filling you is almost too much and it prolongs your orgasm, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

For a few seconds you both don't move, panting hard as your breathing slowly returns to its regular pace but as the high of the orgasm fades, reality crashes down like a tidal wave. Jisung pulls out of you quickly, his face full of panic and regret.

"What the fuck did we do?" he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair, over and over, looking like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

“What did I do? I'm dreaming... yeah. I gotta be,” he screams internally. But the warmth of your pussy around him, still lingers, insisting otherwise. He glances down, seeing his cock slick and creamy with your cum, more undeniable evidence of what just happened. This wasn’t a weed-induced wet dream; he’s done the unthinkable— he's fucked his best friend's girlfriend.

You sit up and reach out to comfort him, but he flinches away from your touch, the gesture cutting you like a knife. "I don’t regret it," you whisper, your voice trembling but sincere. But the look on his face is clear; he does.

"We can’t do this again," Jisung says, his voice firm but soft. "No matter how amazing it felt, we can’t. I... I can't betray Danny like that again, jagi. Fuck, y/n. I'm sorry."

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help it; you lean in and your lips meet his. For a sweet, blissful second, Jisung kisses you back. You could blame your actions on the weed but you know you're more aware when you're high than when you're drunk. Jisung breaks the kiss and covers his mouth with his hands, glancing over at his sleeping friend.

“This is wrong, y/n. So, so fucking wrong,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain. “I've known Danny since we were in diapers. What happened... It was a mistake. We can't…”

His face is full of pain and confusion, tears threatening to spill over. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but he doesn't even want you near him let alone touch him now. That realization shatters you. Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears and you turn away, quickly gathering your clothes to hide your face.

You nod, fighting back tears as you get dressed. The lingering taste of weed on your tongue now tastes like ash and guilt gnaws at your insides at seeing Jisung so conflicted. He watches you, his silence heavy with all the words he wishes he could say. He wants to stop you, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the tears that threaten to fall but he knows he can't. You're Danny's girlfriend even if he doesn't deserve you. Jisung's already fucked up once, he can't again no matter what his heart is telling him.

Your hands are trembling while you fumble to pull on your pants, wishing there was something you could say to make things better. The silence is deafening, broken only by your shaky breathing and Danny's soft snoring. You gather your textbooks and notes, desperately trying to hold yourself together, to not break down before you can make out the door. Jisung lets you go, his heart breaking with every step you take. Inside, he's screaming for you to stay, but he doesn’t move. He just lets you go because he knows that it’s for the best.

"I'm sorry, Ji." you say, your voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

Your voice sounds broken and It's barely audible, but it feels like a scream in the silence. When your hand turns the knob, the tears finally spill over and you rush through the open door. The door closes behind you with a finality that feels like a knife to the heart.

Jisung stares blankly at the door as it shuts, the lingering scent of sex and weed hanging in the air. The bitter taste of disloyalty and heartache, like poison, is bitter on his tongue. He collapses onto the floor after pulling up his shorts and buries his face in his hands. The room feels emptier than ever and Danny's sleeping presence is a constant reminder of the betrayal, making him want to throw up.

"Y/N... what the fuck have we done?" he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with a choking sob, wondering if you two will ever get through this without being burned even more.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst @jeonginsbaee @leftovercigarettes @redstayrosie @krayzieestay @c4y27 @shadowqueen26 @jazskz-blog @Seungcheolshole @stephanieeeyang

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[logansbaby]

CLOSER | DARYL DIXON

SYNOPSIS ❥ On the road, you can’t seem to focus on anything other than wanting Daryl to fuck you senseless. Because he’s such a good boyfriend, you get what you want.

Pairing ❥ Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Content warnings ❥ 18+ content (MDNI), porn without plot, creampie, unprotected p in v, oral (daryl receiving!), dirty talk, car sex, basically reader being feral (like we all are)

Word Count ❥ 2.3k

A/N ❥ hi my loves!! long time no see, i know </3 been busy with stuff irl but i wanted to get this piece out for you all as a thank you for hitting 100 followers! it means the world to me <3 hope y’all enjoy this, im squeezing my legs as we speak bc whew. and also, the picture is purely there to generate imagery, there are no descriptions of the reader! xoxo, sammy

— ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

“You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

…

I wanna fuck you like an animal

I wanna feel you from the inside

I wanna fuck you like an animal”

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

— ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“What?”

His gruff voice spooked you from your lustful haze, where you’d been glancing over at Daryl every couple seconds. You shook your head in a fruitless attempt to clear your sinful thoughts, before meeting his eyes.

“Hmm?” You spoke softly, it was all you could do in your state. Oh, how you wanted him to pull over and let you have your way with him.

“Been starin’ at me since we got in the car. Do I got somethin’ on my face or what?” Daryl sounded annoyed, but you knew him better to just be deeply confused by your actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him, it’d been over twenty minutes and you’d barely spoken since you both had left for a supply run.

But you couldn’t help it. With your panties soaked, slit slippery and clit throbbing in neglect, you were desperately trying to act normal.

Clearly, you’d failed.

It was Daryl’s fault; you’d been fine until you saw him leant against a porch pillar, lighting up a cigarette. You couldn’t explain it because you’d seen him smoke before, but something about the way he looked then had your thighs squeezing, breath catching.

He was busy talking to Rick, blowing smoke as he spoke intently. His arms were bulging, muscles on full display as they moved to further prove his words. The vest did nothing to offer cover and with his pretty lips wrapped around the cigarette, you felt faint. His brown locks were shaggy, covering his eyes in a way that made you wanna tug them as you kissed.

Simply put, you’d wanted him to ruin you.

“No, baby. Jus’ look pretty today is all.” You sighed, now staring at him shamelessly as you leant against the car door to have him in your full view.

“Pretty?!” Daryl scoffed, affronted at the very suggestion. Even so, his ears heated up and his cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink. “Can’ say I've heard that one before.”

“You are,” You promised, voice filled to the brim with adoration for him because yeah, your archer was fuckin’ pretty and deserved to be told. “Look super handsome today.”

“Shut up.” His gruff voice sounded, rolling his eyes at you as you’d made him flush again.

“I’m serious! Got me all flustered, ever since this mornin’!” You huffed, voice whiny and light, throwing your head back against the window for relief on your heated skin.

With your admission, he averted his gaze from the road to you, silently groaning at your blown out pupils, the pink flush dancing across your cheeks and down your chest.

Jesus, you were serious. How the fuck was he supposed to continue on driving when he had his girl next to him, needy for him?

“Fuck.” He spoke, noting that you had now taken your seatbelt off and were shuffling closer to him. “What’re you doin?”

You’d opted to take an old pickup truck and there wasn’t any middle console, just a continuation of the bench. For what you had in mind, you silently thanked whoever came up with that design.

“Pull over, Daryl.” With a breathy voice, you pressed a wet kiss onto his neck. Hearing a hitch in his breath, you licked up his neck until you reached his scruffy cheek, moaning as you did so. “Please, need you so bad.”

The car jerked suddenly as you palmed his strong thigh, teeth nibbling on his earlobe. He felt himself harden in his pants at the feel of your dainty hands touching him, of your plushy lips soothing the sting your teeth had left behind.

“Can’t, sunshine. It’s not safe to be sittin’ in the road bein’ distracted.” He spoke with regret, especially as your hand palmed his dick over the material. He wanted you safe though, and he wasn’t lying when he thought it was dangerous to pull over in the middle of nowhere. “Just wait til we get— fuck.”

His words muddled into a string of curses, car wobbling again as you’d released him before pulling his cock from his pants, zipper undone.

“Wanna suck you off.”

And shit, with the way you were looking at him, with the way you wet your lips as you looked at his dick, he wanted to stuff your mouth full.

“Dammit, you’re such a fuckin’ brat.” You bent down, level with his crotch as you gawked at his exposed dick, precum now bubbling at the tip.

You licked your lips at the sight of white, pearly beads and before he could process it, his engorged tip was in the warm confines of your mouth, suckling soft and slow.

“Cant ever behave, can you? Jesus, baby.” He looked down at you, grunting as your eyes met his just as you swirled your tongue over him, dipping into his drippy slit. You hummed at the salty flavor of him, giving a few more sucks to his tip, before releasing it with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva connecting your puffy lips to him.

You’d only stopped because you noticed he’d let off the gas, the car barely even moving down the deserted street.

“Drive.” You demanded, gripping his base and jerking at a teasingly slow pace, eyes piercing his pretty blue ones. You leaned in to his face, licking his bottom lip before sucking the soft skin into your mouth. Daryl was so unbelievably turned on from your behavior that your voice barely registered. You released his lip, planting a wet kiss onto him before looking at him again. “Drive the car, or I’m stopping. It’s not safe to stop, remember?”

And from the snarl that appeared on his spit-slick mouth, you knew you’d pay for saying that.

“Nah, I can’t focus when your mouth is o—“

“Drive.”

Your command surged him into action, partially because your bratty attitude was making him throb and partially because he needed his dick down your throat, now.

The engine roared as he pressed down on the gas. Then, he gripped your hair tightly, scalp tingling as he made you look at him.

“Suck.” When you made no move, because you’d been too fucking entranced by how hot Daryl was, especially as he yanked your hair roughly, he grunted. “Now, your pissin’ me off with your little fuckin’ angel eyes.”

His words, along with his grip on your hair, had you parting your lips and sucking him down.

The car was filled with the filthy noises your mouth made as you switched between licking him from base to tip and then wrapping swollen lips around him. His taste was overwhelming your senses and your cunt ached to be filled. The rumble of the car kept jiggling your body and you gagged around him as you slid lower onto him.

Tears pooled your lash line but instead of letting up, you bobbed your head up and down to hear more of his groans. The only time Daryl was truly vocal was when you sucked him off and shit, if it didn’t make you wet.

You snuck a hand around to pet your pussy, the throb becoming too much to ignore, when Daryl suddenly pulled you off him. And the sight of you had him bucking into the air; a mix of spit and his precum coated your lips, your eyes wet from crying on his cock, hair messy around your face.

You looked so pretty like this, all cock-drunk.

“Don’t get to touch yourself, not with your fuckin’ attitude.” His tone was so gravely, so assertive that instead of being annoyed, you whimpered. “Now, get your pants off and c’mere.”

It was only then you’d noticed that he’d stopped the car, trees surrounded the vehicle as nothing was in sight for miles.

Your demanding act was far gone; you needed Daryl inside you.

Without another thought, you clambered from your kneeling spot and wiggled out of your pants as best as you could, though your movements were jittery as Daryl watched you the entire time, eyes nearly black with need.

Finally free, you swung yourself onto his lap and moaned loudly; his cock, hard and still coated in your spit, rubbed at your thinly covered cunt as you sat atop him. The buckle of his pants was cold and you jolted as its coolness hit your puffy clit.

“Fuck, Daryl.” You gripped his long strands, yanking as you humped him. The sight of you all whiny and pathetic for him made him grunt lowly before catching your parted lips in a kiss. “Mmph.”

Immediately, the kiss was obscene. Daryl rubbed his tongue with yours, swallowing your whines as the muscles danced with one another. Spit was pooling at the corner of your mouth and as he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both.

Breathing heavily, Daryl reached between you both and pulled your underwear to the side, swearing as he did so.

“So fuckin’ wet, honey. All this for me?” His eyes flickered across your face as you stared back, lust drenching your features as you huffed.

“All for you,” you gasped, lips bumping his and fingers pulling his hair. His fingers found your entrance, marveling at how fucking soaked you were. Daryl leaned into you, capturing your mouth with his as you whimpered into him as he shoved two fingers in at once.

For a bit, thats all it was and it was a fucking sight. You, clinging to Daryl as you greedily kissed him, moans spilling from you as his fingers filled you. Him, fucking you with one hand whilst the other gripped your ass harshly, pulling the flesh as he rocked you against his fingers inside you.

You would’ve come like that, if he hadn’t then removed them just as your orgasm tickled your gut.

“What the fu—“ you were cut off by Daryl as he shoved his fingers, the ones that were just inside you and therefore covered in slick, inside your parted mouth.

“Shh, thats it.” He marveled as you sucked and cleaned his fingers like the good girl he knew you were.

Pulling them from your lips, he dragged the wetness across your cheek before crashing his lips to yours. You both made noises because the musky and sweetness of you lingered on your tongue. With your taste coating his tastebuds, he snapped.

Daryl parted from you before one hand gripped you and the other grabbed his cock, moving until you were sinking down onto him.

Your cries mingled with his groans; your tight, wet heat sucked him down and finally, he was inside you and filling you up, just like you’d wanted.

“Fuck, Daryl.” You whined, hips swiveling to get used to his size. You were torn between the relief of being filled to the brim and the discomfort because of how big he was.

“This what you wanted, huh? Just so fuckin’ needy you had to stop us in the fuckin’ road?” He grunted, a calloused hand coming to grip your throat, the tightness steadying you. “My filthy girl.”

Then, he thrusted up into you and the sound you made was like a symphony of music to his ears. Spurred on, he kept thrusting into your pussy, groaning at the wet, slippery sounds filling the car. You were so overwhelmed with pleasure and the feel of him that you just clung to him, rolling your hips and humping your clit against him as you took each thrust he gave you.

Though, one particular move was so fucking deep it had you mewl, fingernails digging into the soft skin of Daryl’s neck.

“Daryl,” you gasped, euphoria pumping through every crevice of your body. The buckle of his belt was now slick as your clit continued to hump. “So big— uh, uh— so big.”

His hand gripped your throat firmly, fastening his pace as helped you move with him by lifting your ass in tandem with his hips.

You were a mess; blubbering nonsense to him as your cunt repeatedly clenched down on him as you grew closer to your peak. Daryl was so high on you, your pretty sounds, and suddenly, he needed to see more of your skin.

He removed his grip from your ass to yank your shirt up and he let out a grunt as he saw your absence of a bra. Then, without any other preamble, his lips wrapped around a peaked nipple, sucking wetly.

The mix of his mouth making out with your chest and his cock filling you up at such a haste pace had you crying out, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shuddered on his lap.

Your orgasm had triggered his own; the feel of your sopping pussy squeezing him and your cry of pleasure sent him over the edge.

His moans were animalistic as he filled you to the brim, thrusts losing their rhythm as he pumped his spend into you.

“Daryl—“ you whispered, suddenly exhausted and wanting him closer to you, despite your limbs being intertwined with one another tightly. “Baby.”

“Such a good girl,” he spoke into your neck, making no move to remove his softening cock from you. Even if he did try, you wouldn’t let him. The crazed feeling you’d felt was finally soothed, his cock inside you released relief throughout your body.

Daryl brought a finger between your thighs and his cock twitched inside you as he collected both your orgasms. “Open.”

Because you’d do anything he told you, you wordlessly opened your mouth and moaned as he stuck come covered fingers between your lips. He watched you as you sucked his fingers clean, eyes hooded with tiredness.

“C’mon, gotta get home.” He patted your waist, adoration swirling in his chest as you made no move to return to your seat. In fact, you just scooted closer until your nose grazed his sweaty neck.

“Thought we needed to get stuff.”

“Nah, we’ll just say we couldn’ find anythin’” Daryl brought a hand to your hair, gently brushing your head as you pressed kisses to his collarbone.

You both stayed connected for awhile; maybe two minutes, maybe two hours. Being close with Daryl was exactly what you’d needed to feel a little less feral.

Though, as you both finally rolled through the gates with messy hair and flushed faces, everyone looked at you both knowingly.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Does the Devil Have a Name?

modern!aegon x fem!reader 

Summary: Your friends drag you to a halloween party that you had no intention of going to. After meeting the host you’re thankful they made you come. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, drinking, drugs, oral(f receiving), p in v, unprotected

Authors Note: the plot is i love this man and i have to have him 🧎🏼‍♀️inspired by that tvd scene bc it was life changing but instead of i feel so close to you it’s more like slow down by chase atlantic 

Word Count: 3k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I stare at my friends with a straight face as they try and pry me from my bed. I wrap my hands around my headboard as they pull my ankles. One of them starts to pluck my fingers and I gasp as I’m flung off the bed. The three of us land on the ground in a fit of laughter as I push them off of me. 

“It’s a Friday night and you need to get over him. You can do so much better.” I roll my eyes at my friend Krystal’s words and try to crawl back up my bed. 

“Absolutely not.” Rhiannon says pulling me back. “Go take a shower and we’ll go grab your costume from the car.” 

“What do you mean my costume from the car?” I look at them with raised eyebrows. 

“We knew you wouldn’t buy one for yourself because we knew you would try and back out of it.. so we got you a costume.” Krystal smiles pulling me to my feet. 

“What kind of costume?” I glare at them. 

“It’s a surprise. Go start getting ready.” Rhiannon nods her head to the bathroom and I drag my feet across the floor and slam the door shut. 

I know they mean well but I had full intentions of bed rotting and watching movies all weekend. I turn the shower on and connect my phone to my speaker before letting the steam consume me. I come out with my hair and body wrapped up in a towel and enter my room to see my friends giggling and setting out a costume. 

“Let’s see then.” I walk over to the bed looking down at the costume. “Are you fucking kidding?” I look at my friends who fall back into a fit of giggles. 

“You don’t like it?” Krystal says wiping her eyes. 

“It’s just the most cliche option you guys could’ve picked.” I say snatching up the white feathered wings. “A fucking angel.” I sigh shaking my head at the ceiling. 

“Just put it on. You’re going to look perfect.” Rhiannon coos. 

I grab the white mini dress and push into my closet. I pull the dress on and look at myself in the mirror. I walk back out to my friends and they shower me with compliments. We all begin to work on hair and makeup before adding finishing touches to each other. I slip on my wings and they place a halo around my head and pull me out of the front doors. We slide into the uber and I look out the window wondering how I allowed them to drag me along. 

“Enough with the pouting. Here.” Rhiannon shoves a pen in my hand and I inhale deeply before blowing it out the window. 

“This is a smoke free uber.” the man says. 

“I’m sorry. Do you want a hit?” I raise my eyebrow at him in the mirror. 

“No, put it away.” I chuckle at his words before handing it back to Rhiannon. 

The drive is longer than I anticipated but soon we’re pulling up to a massive house surrounded by cars. The uber stops in the center of the road and we quickly get out and start walking up the walkway. I hold my hand out for the pen again and we all pass it back and forth before we make it to the front door. 

“Host says angels get in for free.” the man at the front door nods his head back into the sea of people and I shrug and enter leaving my friends behind. 

There was no way I was paying to enter a party I didn’t want to attend anyway. I turn and they come up behind me with smiles as we look around the house. Cheap halloween decorations are taped to the walls and ceiling and I smile at the drink table. I turn to see if my friends will come with and they seem to have found their own way. 

“Of course,” I mumble. A new song starts and the bass has my body thrumming. I look over the array of drinks and bottles and settle for their jungle juice. I take a sip and almost cough as it slides down my throat. It’s like they put every liquor known to man in here with a splash of fruit punch. 

“Angels can have better drinks.” I turn around at the velvet voice and see a man in a beautiful red suit with dark horns poking out of his head of silver locks. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. 

“Where are these better drinks?” I look him over and smirk. 

“Come,” his fingers lace with mine as he brings me to the kitchen. This must be one of the only off limit places surprisingly. The lights are dim as he snakes us around the counter and opens up the cabinet. 

“Are you running a bar?” I laugh as I take in all the bottles and mixers.

“No, I’m hosting a party.” he grins pulling out a whiskey. 

“Absolutely not, that will turn me into a menace.” he barks out a laugh at my words and pulls two shot glasses down. 

“Just a shot, angel.” he licks his lips. 

“You’re a bad influence.” I grab the bottle from him and pour us an overflowing shot each. We tap the shot and down it. I shiver as the amber liquid burns going down. 

“Not so bad, right?” he smiles as I grab my chest rubbing it.

“You might be the actual devil.” I clear my throat laughing. 

“I never said I wasn’t.” he starts rummaging through cabinets. 

“Mm, and does the devil have a name?” I lean against the counter. 

“Aegon,” he turns with a wicked smile. “What is my angels name?” he hums walking toward me with a clear bottle. 

“Y/n,” I watch him grab a shaker and start making me a drink. I lean over the counter and watch him as he pours it into a glass. 

“Try this.” he smiles sliding it over to me. I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. 

“Damn,” I sigh. “That’s like really fucking good.” he smiles at my words and begins to prepare himself a drink. 

“Thank you,” I don’t miss his cheeks reddening. 

“The devil blushes?” I giggle and his eyes snap to mine. “Who would’ve thought?” 

“I didn’t know that angels teased people.” he raises an eyebrow to me with an amused expression. 

“Is that teasing to you, Aegon?” I let his name come out a little breathier as I lean over to show him more cleavage. 

“What a naughty angel.” he tsks looking to me with dark eyes. I finish my drink and he looks to me as he downs his. “Dance with me.” it’s not a question and it doesn’t need to be at how fast I’m nodding my head. 

He comes around the counter and grabs my hand tugging me back into the party. He weaves us through the sea of people until we’re surrounded and pulls me against him. My hands land on his chest and I’m quickly sliding them up around his neck. The hand on my lower back is keeping me mended to him and the hand on my upper back travels to my hair as he tilts my head. I smile at him with low lids waiting. 

His lips crash to mine and I hold him against me. My hands behind his neck slide into his hair as we continue to move with the music. He presses his lips down my jaw until he’s nibbling at my neck. I gasp holding him against me as we move against one another. He licks across my throat before going to the other side and I don’t hold back my moan. He chuckles against my neck and pulls up to look at me and hovers his lips above mine.

“I would say that’s teasing.” he licks across my lower lip and pulls back. One of my hands travel down between our knit bodies and stops against his erection. 

“Seems like you got more worked up than I did though.” I squeeze against him before bringing my hand up his chest. 

“I need to have you right now.” his pupils blown. 

“We just started dancing.” I pout biting my lip. 

“Real quick.” he pulls me from the crowd and back into the kitchen. He has me bent over the counter the second the door clicks shut and is pulling my dress up. I press my cheek against the marble as he pulls my panties to the side and tracks his fingers through my wetness as I squirm. 

“You’re dripping.” he groans as he removes his fingers. I hear his zipper and soon he’s pressing into me. 

“Fuck Aegon,” I moan as he stretches me open. 

“I’m gunna fuck you real quick then we’re going back to my party.” he pulls out and dips back in. “Then I’m gunna kick everyone out and absolutely devour you.” his hips snap against me as my walls hug around him. 

His fingers dig into my ass as I push back into him. I whine as I feel my pleasure begin to build. With every roll of his hips I’m gasping and searching for something to hold on to. His fingers find my bundle of nerves pulling a moan from my lips. I give up trying to find something to steady myself on and let him slide me against the counter as I feel my high approaching. 

“Gods look at you just taking it.” he grunts as his rhythm speeds. His fingers push me over the edge as I start to pulse around him. He curses as his hips still and I feel him fill me. He slides my panties back and pulls my dress back down. I continue to rest against the counter trying to catch my breath. He pulls me up chuckling as I look to him with pleasure glazed eyes. 

“Another drink?” I turn to him and smile at his words. He makes us drinks to bring out to the party and brings us back out. 

“Where have you been?” I turn at Rhiannon’s voice. 

“With him?” I nod my head to Aegon. 

“And who is him?” she raises her eyebrow at us. 

“The devil.” 

“Aegon.” he says at the same time. 

“They’re pretty interchangeable.” he laughs at my words. 

“How did you two meet?” she looks to me. 

“The drink table. A match made in heaven.” I sigh batting my eyelashes. 

“There you are.” Krystal sighs walking up to us. 

“And here I go.” I say not in the mood for another interrogation. I pull Aegon along with me back into the crowd. They wanted me to have fun and forget so it shouldn’t be a big deal. “I wanna dance again.” I pull him against me and he dips down to my ear. 

“It’ll end the same way it did last time.” I gasp as his hand gives me a quick spank. 

“You said you would kick everyone out next time.” I hum licking across his neck. 

“Don’t tempt me.” his fingers squeeze my waist. 

“Kick them out and we can party alone.” I softly bite his neck and I hear him moan. He pulls me back and I hear him take a deep breath. 

“Alright, everybody out.” his voice carries around the room and the music stops. “Party’s done. Go home.” people start muttering and filtering out. 

He gets a few of his friends to make sure everyone leaves while I text my friends to get an uber and I’ll get home on my own. It took a FaceTime call to prove I wasn’t being kidnapped or forced before they relented. He tugs me up the stairs and pushes open the doors to his room. I step in and his hands are immediately on me. 

“I hope someone told you how good you looked tonight before I take this off.” my hands slide up to his shoulders as I start to pull off his suit jacket. 

“Tell me.” he chuckles as I start on his buttons. 

“When I first saw you I hoped I would end the night with you between my thighs.” I hum pulling off his shirt and running my nails down his chest as he groans. 

“I was searching for my angel all night and when you came to the drink table I felt my cock throb for you in this tight dress.” he pulls the zipper on my dress and pushes it off my body. His hands grab my exposed breasts and my body hums at his touch. I start to push off his pants and he’s stepping out of them backing us up to the bed. My knees hit the bed as I fall back and he kneels before me. 

“Who would’ve thought the devil would be on his knees.” I look down with a smirk. 

He chuckles and pulls my panties off slowly. His lips brush against my leg as he makes it between my thighs. He bites down on my soft flesh and I gasp sitting up to watch him. When his tongue slides up my center I fall back again with a moan. He slowly circles my bud as I move against his mouth. 

“Aegon,” his name falls from my lips and he chuckles against me. He slides two fingers into my core and I cry bringing a hand to his hair. He pulls me closer to him before curling his fingers. My legs start to shake around him as he relentlessly pushes them into me. The pleasure becomes too much and I come undone squeezing my legs around his head. I cry out his name again as he keeps wringing pleasure from me. His tongue moves even faster and I’m trembling above him. 

“Yes, Aegon, please,” I mewl arching of the bed. His fingers never falter as he adds a third. My breath is coming out in pants as I feel my high building again. My hand leaves his hair and joins my other on my chest. He groans into me watching me roll my nipples. Our eyes lock as lashes against me. My breath catches and I burst across his face. He pulls up and looks down at me with a wet face. 

“You taste absolutely divine, angel.” he kisses up my body stopping at my breasts. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and teases it with his teeth. He licks across my chest to give the same attention to my other peak as I push my chest into his face. His lips trail up my jaw before crashing his lips to mine in a bruising kiss. He nibbles on my lower lip before pushing his tongue into my mouth. I bring my hand between us and wrap around his hardness. I stroke against him and he moans into my mouth. I trail his tip through my wetness and whine into his mouth as it brushes against my bud. 

“Fuck me, please,” he chuckles at my words. 

“Line me up, you’re the one teasing yourself.” I slide him through my wetness and lift my hips when he’s at my entrance. He won’t push in and I whine frustrated. “Look at you begging and squirming.” 

“Aegon, ple-“ he snaps his hips into me taking my breath from my lungs. 

“This what you wanted?” he chuckles as I nod my head as moans continue to pour from me. He slows his pumps and my toes curl feeling every inch sliding in and out. He nibbles at my neck letting his hair tickle my chest. 

“Faster.” I buck my hips up into his. 

“Mm but I like the feel of you shaking beneath me.” he hums into my neck grinding himself into me. Every time his hips are flush against mine he rolls them perfectly to brush against my wanting bud. I wrap my legs around him hoping it’ll get him to move faster but all I got was a grunt.

“Please, please Aegon.” I beg as I’m on the cusp of pleasure. 

“Okay angel.” he shushes before he starts to swirl his fingers around my bud. My legs hold him close as he pulls pleasure from me. His fingers move quickly and with his slow pace my eyes are rolling back as I pulse around him. The second he feels this he starts pounding into me. My pleasure feels like it goes on forever until I can catch my breath. 

My nails dig into his shoulders as he continues to rut into me. Whimpers flow from my mouth before he presses his lips against mine to swallow them. His pace falters slightly and I know his pleasure is close. I clench around him and he moans into my mouth. 

“You’re so naughty.” he chuckles against my lips before dipping back down to kiss them again. I whine into his mouth as he pushes into me faster. His fingers swirl my bud and my body goes taught as my high slams through me. He gives one last harsh thrust before he’s filling me. He slowly jerks into me causing us both to whimper before he pulls out. 

“Gods Aegon,” I sigh. “You fuck so good.” I turn my head and see his smile. He pulls me on top of him and we continue to get lost in each other for the rest of the night. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

i was this 🤏🏼 close to making vampire!aegon jk unless 🫣 it’s actually in the works

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch

[the-fiction-witch]

Breathless

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack

I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others. 

"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile 

"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed 

"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine 

I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive. 

"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.

It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.  

I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.

But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss 

"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations. 

I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.

My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties. 

Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had. 

I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible 

"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless 

"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured

"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious. 

Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices. 

"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow 

"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens. 

"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled 

"Thank you Father" I smiled 

"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people. 

As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul. 

He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back. 

“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me

“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled

‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.

“Good day doctor”

“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’

“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too

“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun

“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”

“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled

“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”

“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”

“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking

“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled

“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”

“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered

“That he is” I smiled

“Any particular reason?’

‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”

“Even you?’

“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’

“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”

“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained

“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”

“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath

“Are you alright?’ he asked

“Yes forgive me-”

“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm

“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over

“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”

“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over

“Are you short of breath?”

“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious

“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder

“Take off your dress.” He said

“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued

“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said

“I cannot” I answered between gasps

“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said

“No I cannot. My maid she-”

“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”

“Doctor!”

“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”

“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked

“How old was she?”

“Twenty nine”

“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress

“Forever”

“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said

“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered

“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”

“I was nine.”

“I take it your mother was too?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked

“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused

“What are these?”

“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered

“You smoke!’ he argued

“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered

“Are you mad!”

“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said

He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all

He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”

“It helps.”

“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”

“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”

“Why?”

“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them

“Why would he do that?”

“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”

“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”

“...four days ago.”

“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said

“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted

“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. Thank you jack”

“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”

“once a week or so.”

“Does your father know?”

“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”

“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”

“What?”

“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”

“Why?”

“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”

“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”

“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”

“One night?”

“One night. Under observation.”

“Alright jack”

“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.

Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles

“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began

“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”

“Keep me posted won't you?”

“I promise.”

“You'll take care of her doctor?”

“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”

“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”

“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Clementina pt1

A/N: hello! This is my first fic and hopefully you enjoy it. It was originally just a one shot fanfic but I didn’t realise how long it was going to be so I’m thinking it will be at least two parts but if you want it be a full series of how the Shelby’s adjust to clementina then just let me know! And if you already gathered, this is based after the scene in season 5 ep3 when Tommy and Polly visit the nuns at st Hilda’s. Hope you enjoy!. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: the Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight. pt2: pt3: pt4

Word count: 1,567

The early sunrise fills the Shelby manor, the home of Thomas Shelby and his son is strangely quiet considering it is nearing six am on a Saturday. Commonly, the maids would have Charlie up and having his breakfast by now. however, the only noise filling the silence was the ticking of the small clock on the wall behind Tommy's desk in his office. Inside the office, sat Tommy and his aunt, Polly. accompanying the pair were five piles of old folders sitting on Tommy's desk and on the floor beside Polly's discarded handbag, which she placed there no less than seven hours ago. these folders currently hold the information of the young girls who resided in St Hilda's orphanage.

Two days prior, the aunt and nephew visited the nun-owned orphanage after Tommy had received a concerning report, from a young girl who recently left the care of St Hilda's after turning 18, about abuse that was occurring within the walls of the orphanage. after the rushed meeting, Tommy stopped the funding he was providing and Polly requested the folders of every girl in their care so they could place them into new orphanages ran by the Grace Shelby foundation. Tommy and Polly didn't expect was the folders arriving two hours before midnight and there to be nearly three hundred folders. they knew the orphanage was overrun but not that much. For the past seven hours, the pair had been reading and placing the folders into different piles for the different orphanages that they were going to place the girls in. Most of them were in Birmingham but the occasional one was in London or Manchester.

They were getting close to finishing, having only a handful left to read. this allowed Tommy to have another smoke break. he stood by the double-glazed windows, staring out to the fields watching as his horses walked around slowly and ate freshly cut grass. the room was still quiet, except for the reoccurring sound of Tommy blowing out smoke and inhaling every few seconds. However, the sound of Polly gasping under her breath catches Tom's attention, making him turn around, “Thomas” the middle-aged woman whispered, “You need to see this” she states, her voice full of shock.

Tommy frowns as he walks back towards his desk, “ what is it, ey?” he questions curiously, the newly light cigarette hangs from between his lips.

“Just read it Thomas” she sighs, Polly begins to bite her nails. a habit she does when she is stressed. Tommy opens the folder and begins to read the information, which was written in a hurry because the handwriting was messier than the others.

Tommy was confused at Polly's reaction, to him this was just another folder detailing information about an unwanted little girl placed into the orphanage five years ago. that was until he read the section about her parent....he slams the folder down on his desk and puts his cigarette out into his ashtray, he rubs his hand down his face, a sign he was stressed “ fucking hell” he grumbles, staring at the folder.

“ fucking hell indeed” Polly agrees, watching her nephew across from her “It seems you have a kid sister, out there Thomas” She shakes her head in disbelief, she knew Arthur Shelby Sr was known to sleep around but she did not expect to have another Shelby stuck in this world because of him. Polly grabs the folder again and begins to re-read it.“ another fucking Shelby” Polly chuckles under her breath, Tommy was quiet as he thinks about what they should do. he knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her into the world of crime that the family were involved in but he knew Polly wouldn't let him leave her in the care of an orphanage.

Tommy suddenly stands up, grabbing his jacket “Pol, ring around, tell everyone to be here in three hours” he demands, walking out of the office not telling Polly where he was going and he didn't give her the time to ask either because he was out of the house and into his car in the record time of three minutes.

By the time everyone was around the Shelby manor, Tommy was back from wherever he left. He walks into his office. Polly was sitting on the chair was was sitting on earlier, Ada was sitting on the leather seat by the bookshelf with Karl standing beside her. Arthur was standing by the windows with Finn beside him. They were all waiting impatiently for him

“ thank fuck for that, thought you'd never turn up” Arthur states annoyedly. His hands are in his pockets.

Ada rolls her eyes at Arthur’s language “What’s the emergency that made you wake me and Karl up at six in the morning?” She questions Tommy.

Tommy walks over to his desk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket “Me and Pol have been sorting through the orphan girls' files” he explains, sitting down at his desk.

Finn frowns “And what’s that got to do with any of us?” No one answers him, he was allowed to come to meetings but he isn’t allowed to contribute to them

Tommy lights his cigarette and inhales then exhales smoke before he begins to talk again “There’s a girl, who might be of interest to us” he looks towards Polly.

Polly smiles slightly “Her names clementine, nine years old” she explains, looking around at the Shelby siblings.

Ada shakes her head “Why would a little girl be of interest to you Thomas” She narrows her eyes slightly, feeling suspicious of Tommy.

Tommy rolls his eyes slightly and leans back into his chair “Her mother died when she was four, she was left with her drunken father, who lasted three months before he dropped her off at St Hilda’s” he repeated what he read in the file, three hours prior.

Pol sighs “ for god's sake Thomas, just tell them” she demands irritated, she sits up straight “Her fathers name is Arthur Shelby sr” she announces. The atmosphere in the office quickly changed, you could hear a pin drop from how quiet it became. Arthur coughs and runs his hand through his hair, confused as fuck as to what was happening.

Ada stands up and walks closer to Tommy's desk “We have a sister? And she’s still in that orphanage after what you found out” she states, taking the folder from Tommy's hand as soon as he takes it out of the drawer in his desk. She shakes her head and walks back over to her seat.

Tommy pours himself a glass of whiskey “Me, Arthur and Polly are going back to the orphanage to get her” he explains.

Arthur frowns “We are? Linda wants me back for dinner” he explains, shifting from his left foot to his right foot, his body language showing he was nervous since he knew what his family thought of Linda.

Polly grumbles “ I’m sure she can wait” she states, her voice filled with venom as she looks towards Arthur “We are saving a little girl from abuse” She stands up and walks over to Arthur “Not just a little girl, your sister, a Shelby”.

[eddiesghxst]

perv loser eddie is something that can actually be so personal. it’s in the way he’s such a loser borderline obsessed little stalker.

i’m not quite sure how to put this into words but he is whipped, the true definition. yes he loves you, blah blah blah. let’s go deeper into that love. it’s psycho, when he sees you for the first time his heart bursts, he follows you around in the halls when you’re in school even tho you don’t know him and he doesn’t even know you. you think it’s a weird coincidence that he’s always there. And when you confront him, his knees literally almost drop to the ground in your presence. when you go see him during a hellfire club session, he stops all d&d when he sees you wait outside the closed door. he ignores all protests from the guys that this is a huge campaign, one HE’S been planning. it doesn’t even matter, he would end all d&d sessions 15 minutes early if you asked him to, he’d cancel a session if you slipped him a note before saying you’d be home with no panties on, he’d forget to tell dustin that he had to blow him off because you needed him to take you out to a new chick flick movie.

like i said previously about the inspiration from an ex thing, i love the way cigarette smoke smells. my ex was a smoker and he knew this and it was “our thing”

i think eddie would be majorly turned on if he found this out. i’m not talking about something odd like this ex of mine would blow smoke in my face or whatever but i’m just saying it was a comforting smell. i’m currently out of the country in europe where everyone smokes and i can smell it drifting up to my apartment window. i can just imagine calling eddie who’s back in indiana and telling him how horny you are, how the smell reminds you of him. he’s such a fucking loser tho. he’s been desperate since you’ve been away, having withdrawals, he’s an addict. he fucks himself to sleep with his hand every night and fucks himself awake every morning trying to get some release, his flesh light and hand won’t ever compare. he smokes and plays guitar and thinks of you, each exhale of smoke and he gets anxious thinking about you.

but when you’re back, he doesn’t let you out of the trailer for a good 24 hrs. his only plan is to smoke with you and fuck your brains out. i mean fucking like a madman. he’s fucking his anger and stress out on you, stress about you being away from his side, anger that you’ve been touching yourself away from him. i’m not talking 2 orgasms and you’re done. we’re talking about several upon several chain orgasms he’s bringing you. he wants you sobbing, he never wants you to leave his side.

he’s a loser.

- 🫶 anon (i went overboard)

no bc ur so right stink. everything abt this is so fucking correct, i’m sick to my stomach i want him

————

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, eddie has no spine when it comes to his girl. meaning, he will drop everything he’s doing to please you or do whatever you ask for, no matter the request (if he’s in a mood, he might bitch about it a little, but he will bitch and get the job done okay).

so when you ask eddie if he can pick you up from the airport on the day he’s planned to have dnd, obviously eddie pushes his campaign back because hello, his girl needs a ride.

he’s waiting for you at your terminal with a single rose and a cute little teddy bear and you giggle when you see him because he looks so out of place wearing his usual black leather clothing and heavy chains whilst holding the soft items.

you tell him all about your trip on your way to his trailer, telling him about your time sightseeing and trying new foods and meeting new people.

you’re still rambling about your trip when you walk into his trailer, but it doesn’t last long before eddie’s got you bent over the edge of his bed, clinging to the soft teddy bear and moaning his name. “fuck, i missed this pussy. did she miss me? she miss how good i fuck her, hm?” he pants against your ear. you quiver beneath him, crying out for him as you push back against his hips.

“feels so good, eddie. gonna cum, please can i cum?”

and eddie’s shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “no i don’t think so, sweetheart. i gave you one rule—- told you no touching and you broke that rule.“ he says, low with a patronizing tone and you sob into his sheets as a chorus of sorry’s leave your mouth.

“so you don’t get to cum until i say you can, okay? and i plan on really taking my time with this precious cunt of yours since she seemed to miss me so much.” his hand cracks down on your ass cheek and you cry out as he lets out a satisfied hum.

and eddie kept true to his word, he didn’t let up until he was thoroughly satisfied and you were nothing but a cock drunk mess. you both wouldn’t have it any other way <3

————

more loser perv!eddie ♡

[simjaeyvn]

best friend's brother 2

part 1

pairing: jake x reader

summary: who knew your bond with your best friend's brother was a lot closer than you thought.

warnings: literally smut umm, spitting, light choking, unprotected sex, pulling out method, idk

note: this is not proofread lolol nd i decided to use grammar cus docs tryna correct me pmo

It was 1:42am, but here you were, walking to your best friend’s house. You couldn't deny that it was cold, especially with the wind blowing against your bare arms and legs but you couldn't deny your excitement for the reason you were going there in the first place. Her brother. The night he had eaten out always lingers in your mind, you swear you weren't even able to cum without thinking about it, thinking about the way his tongue toyed with your cunt. Thinking about the past event had already gotten you aroused. 

It was difficult to meet up with him one on one, everytime you were at his house, you'd be spending time with your best friend, of course. But he wouldn't forget to give your ass light slaps whenever he seeked the chance. Your weekly smoke sessions were ruined too because of how busy the two of you were but tonight you wanted to surprise him. 

You open the window to a familiar room and as you step in you hear him, the voice you had been missing so much.

“Interesting way to come in.” He says, voice low and you can feel your heart pick up its pace.

“Missed you,” you say, before shutting the window behind you. He smiles at you and pats his lap, indicating for you to sit down. In which you do. You straddle his lap and his hands meet your waist but they slowly go down to cup your ass cheeks. He looks up at you with those damn beautiful eyes, he was so beautiful.

“Missed you too, pretty.” He replies, before giving you a small kiss. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” His face found its way in your neck and he leaves small kisses on the area.

“Wanted to surprise you,” you mumble and bring your hands up to his hair to play with his blonde locks. You felt him hum against your skin, a smile creeping on your lips. “I really missed you, Jakey.” You breathe out.

“Yeah?” You nod. “Missed me or my tongue?”

“Both.” 

You gasp when his lips are on yours but it doesn’t take long until you’re kissing him back. The kiss only made you realise how much you had truly missed his lips. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, completely losing yourself just from kissing him. Jake was so perfect, that’s what you always thought but every time he’d step into the room it was always the same sentence leaving your best friend’s mouth. “Don’t even look at him, he’s satan’s reincarnation.” You thank the heavens each day that he walked in on you smoking or you would’ve been forced to admire him from a safe distance. You feel him tap your ass and you open your mouth allowing his tongue to make its way in. The kiss is now messy and it’s as if you're dancing with one another using your mouths but you love it messy. Your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands rested on your ass, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. You’re struggling to maintain your breathing but you really couldn’t care less as you were enjoying the moment too much. His small grunts were making you go absolutely fucking feral. It’s not long before he pulls away causing you to pout but he just chuckles. 

“C’mon baby, take that little top off.” He orders and your hands fly to the bottom of your shirt to pull it off in one go. The cold air meets your nipples and you shiver. “No bra?” You shake your head, biting onto your bottom lip. “Naughty fucking girl.” He whispers before attaching his lips onto your breasts. His mouth is on your right one as his tongue plays with your nipple and his hand kneads the left. You bring your hands back up to his hair whilst you let out small moans. Fuck, Jake Sim was incredible with his tongue. Keeping his mouth on your breast, he moves to lay you down on your back. His mouth moves down lower your body and doesn’t forget to leave small kisses each centimetre down. When he meets your shorts, your hips instantly jerk up urging for him to take them. Smiling at your neediness, he pulls off your shorts and panties in one go. “So wet, angel.”

“All for you.” You whine, eyes begging for him to touch you where you needed him most. His finger collects your slick and he brings it up to your mouth. You instantly open your mouth letting him put his finger in and you suck on it like your life depended on it. 

“Fuck, angel, I need you so bad.” He groans at the sight of you sucking on his finger as you don’t break any eye contact. You stop sucking on his finger with a ‘pop’. 

“‘M all yours.” His hands go back down slowly, as he caresses your soft bare skin. He slowly rubs your cunt, it’s not much but you were already a whiney mess. “Take off your pants, please Jakey?” You plead and you see his eyes roll back.

“Fuck, okay.” He pulls down his pants and boxers, your eyes widen and you feel even needier at the sight of his bare cock. He brings a hand to your mouth, “spit.” You do; and he uses it to pump his dick a few times before lining it with your pussy. He rubs himself against your clit for a mere couple of seconds before pushing the tip in. 

“Shit,” you whine. “You’re so big.” Although it was an ego boost, Jake didn’t want to go too far.

“I’ll go slow, alright pretty?” You nod, eyes shut as he pushes himself in more, little by little. When he finally bottoms out, the moan he lets out is a fucking melody to your ears. 

“Start moving, please.”

“Anything for you, pretty.” Jake starts moving at a slower pace but when he sees no sort of discomfort on your face, he starts thrusting faster and it is incredible you do not see stars right now. His hands were holding onto your hips a bit roughly but you didn’t care, the pleasure of his cock in you was taking over everything. “You’re taking me so well.” He grunts in between his thrusts. You want to reply but everything came out as a blubber. You look at him but his eyes were trained on the way your pussy was sucking in his cock. The sweat on his forehead made him look so much hotter. One of his hands was now wrapped around your neck, when he squeezed it with little pressure, you unintentionally clenched around him. “Oh? You like that?” You nod, not being able to comprehend any words. His speed was increasing and he was hitting your spot each thrust. His hand goes from your neck to your clit. His fingers rub on the sensitive part and you feel yourself approaching your high. 

“Jakey, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out. He continues to thrust as he feels himself reaching his own. His lips attach to your neck, sucking on the skin and just like that, you release. He continues sliding in and out of you before pulling out and you sit up to pump his cock until he comes as well. His release lands on your breasts and he fights everything in him to not get hard again. You both fall back on his bed and attempt to breathe at a normal pace. He gets up and goes to his bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth. “Open.” He says. You open your legs and he cleans up the mess from in between and from your chest. Once he’s done, he lays on top of you, his head in your chest. Your hands meet his locks once again, gently playing with his soft hair. “Please go out with me.” He whispers.

“Okay.”

“Really?” He asks, eyes looking up at you. Those eyes were gonna kill you one day. “I just let you fuck me, did you think I would just let you go?” You reply. He smiles and pecks your lips. It was a cute moment until you felt something poke your leg. “Are you fucking hard again?”

“Sorry baby, you’re just too hot.”

- iget bar u never disappoint

[mrsriddles-blog]

Nightmare | M.R

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Mattheo Riddle

WC: 3.5K

Warnings/Notes: Mild Language, Violence, Implied Smut, Angst, etc.

Summary: Mattheo has developed an infatuation with you, the schools notorious badass.

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I shall die before I ‘wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

No one truly understood how Mattheo Riddle—the playboy of the school who suddenly wasn’t playing around anymore—was infatuated with Y/n Y/l/n. She was a girl that not many people wanted to mess around with. She had no problem calling people out on their bullshit, nor did she have a problem being honest—brutally honest.

She had the mouth of a sailor and she was as crude as the guys at the school. She hardly put up with any girls just because she didn’t want anything to do with drama. However, her best girl friend is Pansy Parkinson. When the two were together, everyone knew to steer clear. The two were batshit crazy and was ready to cause havoc.

“Hey babes.” Pansy said, playing with Enzo’s hair.

Everyone sat around the tree as usual as you arrived with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. You had a new display of bruises on your face, your knuckles bruised and battered. Mattheo eyed you with eyes that Tom teased him about being dreamy looking.

“Hey babe.” You say, taking a seat and leaning back.

“Nasty bruise there.” She teases.

“Granger doesn’t know when enough is enough.” You chuckle, pushing your hair out of your eyes.

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet

I’ve had the rug pulled beneath my feet

I’ve trusted lies and trusted men

Broke down and put myself back together again

Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters

Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger

I’ve pinched my skin in between my two fingers

And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors

“Oi! Y/l/n!” Harry exclaims, striding towards you.

You take another puff out of your cigarette, looking up at him unamused as you blow out the puff of smoke in his general direction. He steps back, looking disgusted before focusing back on you. You smile lazily at him.

“What ever do you want, Potter?” You ask sarcastically.

“I want to know why you beat up Hermione.” He demands.

“Well she started it. I ended it.” You say.

“I want a real answer.” He snaps.

You had just walked into the bathroom, opening one of the windows to try and sneak in a quick smoke real quick. Hermione walks in and scoffs when she sees you. You look at her blankly.

“C’mon, give me a smile, Y/l/n.” She mocks, giving you a nasty onceover.

“I don’t owe you a goodman thing. Turn around and leave me alone.” You snap, taking another puff from your cigarette.

“I didn’t think you were a coward. Last I heard, you got into fights and won them. Scared to lose?” She asks.

“How about you shut your mouth before you see where running it gets you.” You suggest, putting out the cigarette and throwing it out the window.

“I told you, Potter. She started it. Maybe you should tell your little bitch to watch who she runs her mouth to next time. I gave her a warning. But, she kept pushing. She was quite determined she’d win the fight. Called me a coward. You should've seen the way she cowardly hid in the corner of the bathroom to get away.” You say, scoffing out a laugh at the memory.

“Come on, little lady, give us a smile.”

No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about

I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for

A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing

“God, you are pathetic. What? You can’t find happiness in your screwed up homelife and among your friends, that you have to hurt other people?” He asks.

“I don’t hurt people without reason. And you know nothing about me.” You spat.

He stared at you a moment, before turning and striding away. He didn’t want to push anymore than he had as he didn’t want to be your next victim.

You watch him with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. You resisted the urge to hex him or worse, curse him. You looked like a daydream to everyone, but really you were a nightmare.

No one truly knew where the change came. You were sweet and innocent once. They wished they could blame your friend group, but you were friends with them before. You came back from summer holidays your third year with a whole different personality. Little did they know, your parents were murdered by a rich wizard who got away with it.

Everything changed for the worst, or maybe the best for some.

Voldemort sought you out after hearing the news from his twin sons. He took you in and began to teach you his ways. You became a Deatheater just like your parents and all your friends. You have became the reason everyone was far more confident that they were going to win the war too. You were calculated, yet when needed you were merciless.

I, I keep the record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night

That I’m no sweet dream, but I am a hell of a night

“Y/n/n, I’m delighted you are here for the holidays.” Voldemort says, standing to greet you with a hug.

“Thank you for having me, my lord.” You murmur.

“Of course. Why don’t you go get settled in? Dinner will be done around six.” He says.

“Of course.” You murmur.

Mattheo and Tom waited in the doorway for you. You walked towards them, before pausing as the hairs on your neck stood up. You felt your stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Y/n/n?” Mattheo questions.

“Someone is here. Someone who shouldn’t be here.” You murmur, striding past them as you pull your wand free.

You followed your gut and headed to the basement. You heard Tom and Mattheo behind you as Bellatrix’s cackling from upstairs could be heard. You hear Hermione scream, but you keep going when you see a familiar brunette boy and ginger-head boy.

“Potter! Weasley! What the hell are you doing here?” You snap, pointing your wand at them.

Mattheo and Tom follow in suit, Mattheo distracted as he watched you with awe. Tom rolled his eyes at his brother who was obsessed with you.

“Y/l/n? You are a part of this too?” Harry asks in disbelief.

“Of course she is. She hangs with those snakes too. Not to mention she is a snake herself.” Ron spats.

“What is happening to Hermione?” Harry asks.

“What she deserves for breaking in. What you two will soon face as well. You get a first-hand experience of a snake bite. You get to see how venomous we truly are.” You say, smiling sweetly at the two.

No, I won’t smile, but I’ll show you my teeth

And I’ma let you speak if you just let me breathe

I’ve been polite, but won’t be caught dead

Lettin’ a man tell me what I should do in my bed

Keep my exes in check in my basement

‘Cause kindness is weakness, or worse, you’re complacent

I could play nice or I could be a bully

I’m tired and angry, but somebody should be

Harry eyes you warily, looking between you three. He knew the odds, but he also wasn’t one to go down without a fight. He reached for his wand , but it was to late as you hit him with Cruciatus Curse.

“What are you doing!?” Ron cries, dropping to his knees as he tried to get Harry’s attention.

“Protecting my family.” You spat.

“They are just using you.” Ron says, shaking his head.

“Imperio.” You say, watching him curiously.

“Mattheo, lets grab Potter.” Tom says.

“Ron, keep quiet. Give me your wand and Harry’s wand and follow me.” You say.

Ron hands both wands over as he follows you upstairs. Hermione was tied to a chair now, your eyes falling on the word carved into her arm. Tom and Mattheo struggle to lay an unconscious Harry on the ground.

“Is he dead?” Voldmort questions.

“No, my lord. He is unconscious. I used the Cruciatus Curse on him. I used the Imperius Curse on Ron. They were both in the basement.” You explain.

“Well done, child. The rest are on their way. They should be here any minute.” He says.

You nod, turning to help Tom and Mattheo with tying up Harry in a chair as you hear quiet chatter heading towards the dining room. You tell Ron to sit and you easily tie him up as your friends and their parents enter.

“We had our lovely trio break in, and what for…I don’t know just yet.” Voldemort announces, motioning everyone to take a seat.

You take a seat next to Mattheo, your hands shaky with nerves. He grabs your hand under the table, squeezing it out of comfort. You squeeze back, especially as scarlet red eyes focus on you.

“Question the boy.” He orders.

“Ron, why did you guys break in?” You ask, trying not to show your nerves.

“H-Horcruxes.” He stutters out, trying to fight your hold on him.

“Ron! Fight it! You're stronger than this!” Hermione cries.

“Zip it! Or we might have to repeat what happened a few minutes ago, mudblood.” Bellatrix spats, glaring at Hermione.

“Are you delusional? You three are always up to something, but walking into the snakes den? You truly are arrogant fools.” Tom spats, shaking his head.

“Mattheo, Tom, Y/n/n, you are dismissed. You’ve all proved your worthiness today. Why don’t you two assist Y/n/n with what she might need for the spell she has been working on?” Voldemort suggests.

The three of you stand, leaving the room before Hermione says your name. You stop in the doorway before turning to look back at her.

“Why? Why do this? Why are you on their side? What happened to you? We use to be friends. What changed? Why did you come back somebody else our third year?” She asks, tears in her eyes.

“That Y/n is dead, Granger. She isn’t coming back. She died the day my parents were murdered by a rich wizard. Yet, the Ministry of Magic defended him and let him walk free—a mudblood. He should be rotting in Azkaban.” You spat, your eyes narrowing on her.

This was the first time most of your friends knew of what happened to your parents. They assumed they died, but they didn’t ever pry.

“Come on, little lady, give us a smile”

No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about

I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for

A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

“Matty, can I steal one of your jumpers?” You ask, walking into his room.

“Yeah, here.” He says, handing you the one he had been wearing earlier today.

“Thank you.” You say, smiling at him before pulling it on.

He has definitely imagined you in his clothes. He was beyond obsessed. He practically watched your every move when he was in your presence. He imagined a lot of things. He imagined what it would be like to hold you…to kiss you…to see you in his clothes…to see you without clothes. To say the least, he had a very imaginative imagination.

“Are you busy right now?” He asks.

“No. I just wrapped up the loose ends to that spell for your father. So, I should have a lot of free time on my hands now.” You say, sitting at the end of his bed.

“Let’s watch a film then.” He suggests.

“Not some horror flick though.” You plead.

“No, no, not a horror flick. Why don’t you pick?” He suggests.

You smile, shrugging as you nod. He pats the spot behind him and you crawl up the bed before plopping beside him. He scoots closer to you nonchalantly as he hands you the remote to his TV. You pick a romance movie, hoping he doesn’t make fun of you.

Half an hour passes, and Mattheo had gotten pretty invested in the movie. However, that was until you had moved so you were laying down beside him. Now, he found himself watching you when you got drawn in by the movie. He didn’t think it was this fair to look so good in his bed, but you looked like a Goddess in his eyes.

“Y/n/n.” He murmurs, leaning over you a bit, looking down at you.

Your eyes flicker to his, seeing how close he really was to you. Your lips part in surprise, his eyes flickering to them. You look at his lips, watching them move closer and closer. You close your eyes, his lips dancing with yours.

You move a hand to his, pushing his head closer to yours as he straddles you, deepening the kiss. You both never thought a kiss could be so perfect and magical.

“Y/n.” He whispers against your lips, his eyes still closed.

“Matty, I need you.” You whisper, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

“Shit…are you sure about this baby?” He asks.

“More than sure.” You whisper.

“Draco, come.” Voldemort says.

You hold Mattheo’s hand tighter, praying Draco comes to you all. It was a relief as he walked over to the Deatheaters side. You’ve noticed he was a little torn between what side he wanted to be on.

“Y/n, now.” Voldemort says, turning to you.

Harry Potter was officially dead. You confirmed it. Now, it was time for the big unveiling of Voldemort’s human form, and not his form that represents where things had gone wrong. It was time for him to be the form of utmost perfection. You found yourself wondering if he’ll look like Tom. Tom does happen to resemble his father a lot from some pictures you’ve seen.

You take in a breath, squeezing Mattheo’s hand before letting it go. You step forward, closing your eyes as you let your arms go out. You hear startled and surprised gasps from everyone around as you begin to float up off the ground.

Mattheo watched just as everyone else was surprised as a green light emitted from you before becoming so bright and engulfing you. He looks back at you after the light explodes and he sees that you're dressed in a black cloak, but he sees the dark green bodice underneath it. Your eyes open and he stumbles back when he sees your eyes are green.

Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware

But I’d rather be a real nightmare than die unaware, yeah

Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware

But I’m glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers

You lift a hand, muttering incoherently before a green tendril reaches out towards Voldemort. It wraps around him, covering him before it slowly washes away as you lower yourself to the ground. You watch, hoping to the gods above that you didn’t just embarrass him. He’d kill you and you knew that.

Your lips part in surprise as you see the man who stood there now. He stood about 6”3 tall, he was lanky yet muscular. His face was sculpted, electric blue eyes instead of scarlet red ones. He had dark brunette hair that was neatly styled and he wore a white button up shirt with black dress pants.

“Your dad is hot.” You mumble and Mattheo pinches you, pouting at you.

“Hey, your mine.” He grumbles.

“I was just noting the obvious.” You mumble.

Voldemort smirks, slowly looking around the crowd. He looks at you and winks before turning to address the other side. You look at Mattheo with wide eyes and parted lips.

“He’s so hot. I really expected he would look like how he had. Like our Tom, now. Not that you're not hot Tom, because you are, like, really hot. But, it seems like even though he hasn’t been his natural self in a long while…he still matured.” You mumble.

“Uhh…thanks I guess.” Tom mumbles.

“You are my bloody girlfriend. Please stop saying my dad is hot.” Mattheo grumbles.

“I’m trying! I’m sorry! I love you.” You say.

“Right.” He grumbles.

You hug him tightly and pout when he doesn’t hug you back. You stand on your tippy toes, your lips brushing against his ear.

“How about I show you how much I love you tonight? I’ve got this new pair of lingerie that I bought because I was thinking of you.” You whisper.

“Deal.” He rasps, kissing your neck before letting you go.

You turn to face Voldemort again. The other side has kneeled and are vowing their loyalty to him. He has them one by one approach him as he gives them the Deatheater mark. Your eyes find Althea, a first year who was looking at you with tears in her eyes. She runs to you, Voldemort watching with curiosity. Your own eyes well, not expecting her to be here.

“When did you get here? I thought I lost you.” You ask, kneeling in front of you as you grab her face in your hands.

“The Ministry of Magic had me at some secure location. They were going to use me as leverage against you when the time come. They had a prophecy that showed who you become. But, you all destroyed the Ministry of Magic. I escaped, “transferred” to Hogwarts in hopes that you’d be here. And you are.” She says, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Oh babes, I am so, so happy you're safe and here. I’ve looked for you, but I honestly thought…I thought they killed you. I couldn’t feel you.” You say, tears falling down your own cheeks.

“They used a spell so you couldn’t feel me. They wanted you to think I was dead…but I’m here. I’m here now.” She whispers, hugging you tightly.

You hug her back tightly, burying your face in her neck as you try to get a grip on your emotions. You lean back, gently wiping her tears away before wiping your own and you smile at her softly.

“Who is this?” Voldemort asks, stopping behind Althea.

You stand, putting an arm around your sister’s shoulder. You look at him and smile slightly.

“This is my sister, Althea. I thought she died…but I guess the Ministry of Magic has had her hidden all along. They had some prophecy about me so they were going to use her as leverage against me. But, because of what you’ve done for us and you’ve taken down the Ministry of Magic…she escaped. Thank you, my lord.” You say.

“Y/n/n…it’s time you called me father or dad. I’ve considered you a daughter for awhile…especially after all you’ve done for our family…and now you and Mattheo are in love…I simply think it’s time for you to stop calling me ‘my lord’ or ‘Voldemort’ and called me dad or something. Althea…I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.” He says, putting a hand out for her to shake.

She takes his hand, shaking it as Tom mumbles something about his name being the same as his fathers. Voldemort takes a knee in front of Althea and smiles at her.

“What should I call you?” She asks.

“Dad…call me dad.” He mumbles.

You smile slightly, realizing that he had a connection to your little sister. You knew he looked at her like a daughter as well. But, this was different. You knew these two were going to have a special bond. You look over at Tom and Mattheo to see them watching with small smiles.

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it ever time

And I realize

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night

That I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night.

[gaymindcontrol]

The Traffic Stop

David was driving home after a long day in the office. He was still dressed in his work tee and jeans, driving with the windows down and the music on full volume. He was trying to shake off the stress from the day and take in the brisk autumn air.

He exited the freeway that he was traveling on and noticed a Police car following him. He knew that he had been speeding.

“Shit.” he quickly muffled to himself.

In a flash, the car’s lights and sirens were engaged and David knew he needed to find a place to pull over.

Shortly ahead, there was an abandoned Gas Station that had plenty of room for both David’s truck and the pursuing Police Officer’s vehicle. Once David pulled over, he waited about 5 minutes before the Officer exited his vehicle. He was about 6’ tall with a slender yet muscular build. His hair was brown and short, perfectly styled. He was wearing a pair of Aviator sunglasses and… dangling a lit cigarette from his mouth?

“People still smoke cigarettes in 2023?” David asked himself.

David’s Father was a smoker when David was young, but he quit years ago. David only knew because his Father is seen smoking in some of his own baby pictures. None of David’s buddies were smokers, and they all frowned upon the habit pretty heavily.

As the Officer approached David’s truck, he removed his sunglasses. David began to roll down the window. The office spoke in a deep, commanding voice.

“Do you know why I pulled you over today, boy?” asked the Officer, rather firmly.

“Well, I do believe… I’m sorry, did you just call me boy?” David responded, shocked.

The Officer took a long drag on his cigarette and took it from his mouth, simultaneously flicking the ash to the ground and blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the surrounding air. “Yes, I did. I’m approaching my mid-40s and you’re what… no older than 25-30 years old? To me, you’re a boy.” answered the officer.

David was unsure how to respond, as he has always respected the Police, but this entire situation just seemed odd to him. “I understand, Officer. My apologies for questioning you. I believe you pulled me over because I was speeding.” he said, hoping that coming clean would keep him from paying a fine.

The officer immediately responded, “That would be correct, boy. Now I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”

David handed over his documentation and remained in the vehicle. The officer went back to his patrol car and got inside. David looked in his rear view mirror and noticed that the lights on the patrol car that were previously flashing red and blue appeared to be flashing an odd green and purple.

“No, that can’t be right…” David said as he shook his head, thinking he may be seeing things. He looked in his rear view mirror again and now the lights appeared to be red and blue again, but there was still something off about them. Almost like a little extra light with every flash.

“These are actually kind of nice to watch” David thought to himself. He continued to watch them until, well… David wasn’t sure. Everything went black and he felt so incredibly relaxed. He felt like he could stay in this place, wherever it may be, forever.

Suddenly, David got a strong whiff of cigarette smoke. “I’m back with your documents, boy. Put them back and step out of the vehicle.” the officer commanded.

“Yes, sir.” David responded without thought. As David opened his eyes to put his documents back, he thought, “why did I call him sir?”

“Everything alright, boy?” the Officer asked, a little firmer than before, and David felt his mind relaxing again. Any thoughts of this situation being unusual left his mind instantly.

“Yes, sir.” David responded again, without thought. Instinctively, David performed his next command and stepped out of the vehicle. He shut his door and stood in front of the officer waiting for his next order.

It didn’t come immediately. David continued to stand in place staring into the Officer’s face as he dangled his cigarette from his mouth and took continuous drags. The smoke was blowing directly into David’s face, but he didn’t mind in his current state.

David never considered himself to be gay, but everything about this Officer simply captivated him. His hair, his face, his voice, his body, and his uniform. His boots. The way he dangled a cigarette between his lips and blew thick clouds of smoke from his mouth and nose.

“Do you smoke, boy?” the Officer asked David.

“No, I don’t smoke, Sir.” David replied coldly.

“Have you ever been a smoker?” followed up the Officer.

“No, I have never been a smoker, sir. I have always found smoking quite repulsing.” David replied as he continued to stare into the Officer’s face.

The Officer paused and stared back at David. He appeared to be thinking about how to handle David, and what to do next.

“Do you find it repulsing when I smoke, boy?” the Officer questioned David.

“No, Sir. You do not repulse me, Sir.” David replied, blankly.

“Good. I think there’s some hope for you then.” the Officer smirked.

David didn’t understand the command. “Sir?” he hopefully asked.

The Officer chuckled. “See this here in my uniform pocket? These are my smokes. Marlboro. Marlboro Reds. The first time I smoked a red, I knew there was no turning back. The way that it made my lungs feel. Stronger. Full. It made my cock hard, instantly. I was only 17, but it made me a man. Boys don’t smoke, men do. Do you understand?”

After listening to the Officer’s relaxing, yet commanding voice, David was struggling to keep his eyes open let alone speak. “Y… Ye… Yes… Sir… Boys don’t smoke… Men do…” he managed to stumble out.

“Good, boy.” the Officer responded. He then blew a thick cloud of smoke into David’s face. David’s body immediately tensed up. David could taste and smell every ounce of smoke in the air. He felt it infiltrating his nose, his mouth, his lungs. His cock even become fully erect. Even harder than usual, it seemed.

As the Office continued to stand in front of David, smoking away, David felt a desire growing inside of him. It was so strong that it felt like it could rip him apart from the inside out, if he didn’t satisfy it. David couldn’t quite determine what the desire was. He just knew that it had to do with the Officer. His new master.

With a snap of the Officer’s fingers, David instinctively knew what the growing desire was. It was to smoke. It was to be a real man. Without thinking, his arm raised from his side and reached for the officer’s front pocket of his uniform. David removed the contents, a pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes and a silver Zippo lighter. Though David had never smoked a day in his life, he knew how to proceed. He removed a cigarette from the pack and placed it between his lips, willingly, even eagerly. He flipped the lid of the Zippo and struck the wheel. A flame emerged from the Zippo and David placed it in front of his cigarette, dragging deeply as it lit.

He exhaled and took a deep drag on the Marlboro Red, allowing the delicious smoke to enter and fill his lungs. Take over his body and his mind. Another drag, and another. David couldn’t get enough. His actions seemed to make the Officer very happy.

“Mmm. How does it feel boy? To be a real man? To smoke a red?” the Officer asked.

“It feels amazing, Sir. So much pleasure. So relaxed…” David replied, in between drags on his nearly finished cigarette.

“You’re a natural, David. Have another.” the Officer commanded.

“Yes, Sir. I need another red, Sir.” David begged.

Once again, he withdrew a cigarette and lit it. Sucking on it deep, filling his lungs with the rich smoke over and over again. It had gotten dark, and the Officer seemed to be interested in a little more fun with David, before moving on to his next stop.

“How about this, boy? I’ll let you go without a ticket today, but I’m going to need you to follow a few more commands. Do you think you can handle that?” the Officer questioned.

“Yes, Sir. Anything, Sir. Will obey, Sir.” David helplessly replied.

“Perfect. As I said, you’re a natural. Now get into the back of my squad car, and lay on your stomach.”

David stomped out his cigarette and complied. The Officer leaned in behind David and pulled David’s jeans down to his knees. David could hear the Officer unzip his own pants. David never imagined he would be in a situation like this, but he was so turned on. Even if he wasn’t, he’s not sure that he could resist the temptation of this handsome Officer.

He heard the sound of the Zippo lighter and sensed the now familiar taste and smell of a Marlboro. He began to relax again, knowing he would not be resisting any Officer today.

David felt something warm and wet on his asshole. Lube? Than the Officer’s rough hands, and fingers. “Ooooo…” David spluttered.

“This may be a new experience for you, boy, but I promise you’re going to love every second of it. As long as you relax and obey.” the Officer said.

“Relax. Obey. Relax. Obey.” David found himself repeating inside of his head.

Something began to penetrate David. He was so relaxed, but it was painful. “Please, Sir. It hurts, Sir.” David begged.

“Don’t worry, boy. That’s just my cock. It’s on the larger size, but you’ll get used to it if you just relax.” the Officer emphasized.

“Relax. Obey. Relax. Obey.” David found himself repeating again. He could feel the Officer’s cock penetrating him deeper, until the Officer was completely inside of David. David sporadically began thrashing his arms trying to find something, anything to dig his fingers into. It hurt so much.

Suddenly, David felt something touch his lips. He knew exactly what it was. The Officer had placed his own lit Marlboro into David’s hungry lips. David took a deep drag and felt his body relax again instantly. There was no pain. There were no worries. Just David, his Marlboro Red, and the Officer’s thick, sweet cock.

Seeing David smoking again seemed to excite the Officer, as he began to pump his cock in and out of David’s tight hole. David moaned loudly, but there was no one around to hear. As David continued to smoke, the Officer continued to pound harder. David’s head was even beginning to hit the inside of the opposing rear vehicle door.

“Now we’re getting somewhere, boy. Fuck. Fuck yeah. How does it feel?” the Officer asked.

A few minutes ago, David would have responded that it was painful and terrifying. Now, however… “So good, Sir. Must obey, Sir. Fuck me, Sir. Please, Sir.” David managed to moan out.

As the Officer continued to pound David, all of the sensations began to overwhelm him. His lungs were begging for more smoke. His ass was begging for more cock. His brain was begging him to relax and obey. David’s eyes began to roll into the back of his head. He was unable to process anything further. He was stuck in a state of pleasure and ecstasy.

David’s own cock began to throb so violently that it was actually shaking. David could feel the rest of his body begin to shake, too. He knew he was reaching the point of ejaculation.

The Officer lit another cigarette and continued to fuck David from behind. “I forgot to tell you, boy. You cannot cum until you hear the snap of my fingers. I’m going to take my time, and so will you.” the Officer ordered.

“Yeeeeesssss Siiiiirrrrrr….” David groaned. The Officer placed another Marlboro into David’s mouth and lit it. David again took a deep drag and felt his stress and worries flow away. Nothing else mattered to him in that moment.

The Officer pressed down on David’s neck as the thrusting became more and more intense. David’s head was turned to the side so he could continue to smoke while the Officer watched, as he freely fucked David.

David heard the sound of a snap, and the next thing he knew his body began to shake once again. He continued to suck down his Marlboro as he felt the Officer’s cock draining deep inside of him. David’s own cock had never felt more pleasure in his entire life. It was pouring cum onto the backseat of the Patrol Car. David felt incredibly sweaty and sticky, but more satisfied than he had felt in his entire life.

The Officer put away his serviced cock and zipped up his uniform pants. “Pull up your pants and get out of the car.” the Officer ordered.

David obeyed once again. He got out of the patrol car, and stood at attention in front of the Officer, awaiting his next order. “With the next snap of my fingers, you will forget this experience. You will remember it as just another traffic stop, and a friendly cop who let you off without a ticket. However, from this moment on you are a smoker. You will not remember why you started smoking or how, but you will know internally that Marlboro Reds are a part of you now and you need them to survive. If you feel like something else is missing from your life, you will stop down to our station. That means that you enjoyed the experience today and want to experience it again, and I can certainly make that happen, David.”

With that, the Officer stuck a fresh pack of Marlboro Reds in David’s tee shirt pocket. He snapped his fingers, and David suddenly appeared lost and confused. “Uhh… I’m sorry… what’s going on here?” David asked quietly.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, bro. Just another traffic stop, but all seems well here and you are free to go on your way.” the Officer responded, smirking.

“Oh, great! Thank you, Officer.” David replied.

“No, David. Thank you.” the Officer said with a wink of his eye, as he lit up another cigarette.

David got back into his truck and pulled the door shut. He reached back to pull his seatbelt, when he noticed the pack of Marlboro Reds in this pocket. “This day has been so fucking stressful.” David sighed. He lit up a red, put his truck in drive, and pulled back onto the main road. He waved a friendly goodbye to the Officer, who was still parked.

A moment later, the Officer placed a call over his radio. “This is Officer Fulmer. I’ve got another recruit, Sarge. His name is David. Good looking guy, very open to suggestion. May need to be trained up a little. I expect we will see him at the station within the next day or two.” the Officer explained.

“10-4, Officer Fulmer. Return to the freeway for patrol.” the Sargeant responded.

“Yes, Sir. Must obey, Sir.” Officer Fulmer mumbled.

Officer Fulmer lit up another red, rolled down his cruiser window, and pulled a U-Turn to return to the freeway. He couldn’t wait to find and transition another recruit for his Sargeant.

[afroditisworld]

Silver Spring

Remus Lupin x Black!Reader

Warnings: just angst not a happy ending. character death. my grammar

word count: 5k

A/N: i write this fic while listening to Silver Spring so i recommend listening to it while you are reading it.

five times Remus rejected you and once you did.

You, Sirus, Remus, Peter, and James were always together in your years at Hogwarts. As the twin sister of Sirius Black and as a Gryffindor, you were a disappointment to your family too. You were a part of the Marauders and close with everyone, but Peter was your best friend. At first, he envied you because he was jealous of your brother. However, he learned to trust you over time, and a beautiful friendship started. He knew everything about you, even your huge crush on Remus Lupin. How could you not like him? He was the sweetest and most loveable wizard you had ever met, but he didn't know that. You were always flirting with him, trying to make your feelings obvious. But he couldn't understand how you could like him, so he always brushed off your flirting. Except for one night in your 7th year, Gryffindor had just won an important game against the Slytherins, and at the party, you and Remus had a little too much to drink. In a moment of weakness, Remus confessed that he had feelings for you too. You were dizzy, but you could still remember how his words made you feel. You were sitting in the common room alone after the party when Remus approached you.

"You know that I like you too, right?" Remus whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your neck. You chuckled and hid your face in your hands.

"It's true, luv, but you don't deserve me," he said, placing his hand on your lap. You immediately looked at him and shook your head, touching his face and making him look at you.

"You have no idea what you deserve, Remus Lupin," you murmured as you leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his.

"You deserve so much more," he whispered teasingly, brushing his lips against yours before pulling back.

“Kiss me, please, Remus,” you breathed out, and a small smile appeared on his lips. You felt your heart flutter, and he couldn't resist any longer.

He pulled you closer by the back of your neck, and before you could even think twice, his lips were crushed against yours. At first, his kiss was rough and desperate, but as the moment lingered, it softened into something tender and sweet. Your mind went blank as you kissed him back eagerly, completely losing yourself in the moment. All the tension and pent-up desire between you two exploded in that kiss, leaving both of you panting for air when you finally pulled away. Remus smirked at you and was ready to kiss you again when your brother called his name and stood up to head to Sirius.

That's how it started. At every party, you and Remus would make out. You started hanging out more, so you thought you and Remus could finally be something more than friends.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you began to notice a change in Remus’s behaviour. He started to distance himself, always finding excuses to avoid being alone with you. Your heart ached at the thought of losing him after finally admitting your feelings and sharing those intense moments. So at his birthday party, you decided it was finally time to talk this out.

Remus was smoking alone on the window when you approached him, nerves fluttering in your chest but determined to get answers.

"What, Black, you don't enjoy the party?" He asked you, blowing the smoke outside the window with a small smirk.

"No, I just wanted to spend some time with you and talk," you answered, looking up at him as you got closer to him. He bit his lips and let out a small groan. He knew that was coming; he knew that you liked him, and Remus knew that he wanted you as well, but he still couldn't let himself give in to his feelings.

"Remus, what's going on?" You asked, your voice laced with concern. He avoided your gaze, shifting his cigarette.

"I… I can't do this, Y/N," he finally whispered, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm too dangerous for you. I can't risk being with you like this." He tried to look away from you; he was ashamed of himself. How was it possible to be such a coward? And as his words left his mouth, you chuckled.

"You don't mean that," you said, stepping closer to him. As a Black, you were known for never settling for anything less than what you wanted. You were not one to back down easily.

"Stop it, Y/N; you don't deserve it, and you know that," Remus stated, finally looking at you as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"No, Lupin, we could make it work; you know that," you said, but Remus turned around, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder if his fear was too great to overcome his wants.

After that, you did not make an effort again. You had some pride; you were upset, and you didn't want to ruin your friendship, so you chose to act as if nothing had happened. As if Remus never expressed his affection for you, never kissed you, and, above all, you tried to convince yourself that Remus Lupin had never broken your heart.

You and Remus never talked about your feelings again. But you never stopped hoping that something could change. You couldn't bury your feelings completely, no matter how hard you tried to ignore them. So the next time Remus chose to hide his feelings and reject you again was on October 31, 1981.

You were both on a mission for the Order of the Phoenix. The mission was dangerous; you both knew that. You were fighting side by side, so when you saw Remus in danger, you ran to help him, risking your own life. You didn't mind; it was the right thing to do, you told yourself, but Remus didn't seem to think so.

When you arrived at his house, he was furious. At first, he didn't talk to you and avoided eye contact. It was clear that he was struggling with his emotions. So when you tried to speak to him, he shouted at you.

"You are not going to do that again." He was flustered when he finally looked at you. You pouted when you heard his words; you didn't expect this reaction. You were always putting yourselves in danger, so you didn't see what the problem was now.

"We were on a mission, Remus. What did you want me to do? Just stand there and watch you die." You asked him and rolled your eyes. He was being unreasonable.

"Stop putting yourself at so much risk." He groaned, putting his hand on his hair. You started to get mad at his constant lecturing.

"I can take care of myself, Remus," you snapped, feeling frustrated with his overprotective nature. "I'm not going to stop just because you're worried."

"You should," he stated, and he left the room. You followed him into the kitchen; you wouldn't let him make you feel like you couldn't handle yourself. You wanted to have the last word in this argument.

"Can you just thank me and don't give a lecture? I just saved you for Merlin's sake." You cried out.

"You didn't have to, Y/N. Don't do that again," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you hearing what you're saying? You're asking me to let you die," you said, looking at him confused. He sighed, realising the gravity of the situation.

"Yeah- no, I mean, just don't do that again." He insisted.

"No, Remus, I would put myself at risk again and again if it meant saving you," you whispered. Remus looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and concern, realising just how much you cared for him. But still, he couldn't understand what he had done to deserve that.

"Stop it, Y/N." He demanded as you shook your head, refusing to back down.

"And you know why?" You continued.

"Y/N." Remus said your name again, trying to make you stop.

"Because I have feelings for you, and I can't pretend like I don't anymore; I can’t bury them, Remus, and I know you can't either." You finally let out.

"Stop," Remus said again, this time louder.

"What, Remus? Is it so difficult to believe that you are loveable and that people actually care for you more than you think?" You asked him. You knew that you were being bolder than you should be, but you couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes, it fucking is," he let out with a cracking voice and a pained expression.

"Then open your bloody eyes, Lupin, because when you're gonna realise it, it'll be late, and you'll regret not accepting the love that's right in front of you," you whispered, feeling the weight of your words. "And you'll lose everyone, not only me," you said again. You knew that you were being mean, but someone should have made him listen and woke him up. "Stop pushing me away," you added softly, hoping he would finally understand. "I can't keep waiting for you forever."

But Remus again didn't say anything; he chose to push you away once more, his eyes filled with sadness and regret. You knew deep down that he was struggling with his own demons, but it didn't make the rejection hurt any less. He shook his head again and left the room, leaving you alone one more time.

The next morning didn't find either of you well. Mary had called you too. "Something horrible happened.” She said. You felt like your heart had dropped to the pit of your stomach, fearing the worst as you listened to Mary's words. Her words left you feeling lost. You felt dizzy with worry as you tried to make sense of the situation. The uncertainty of what Mary had to say weighed heavily on your mind, leaving you anxious and unsettled.

Your brother was a traitor—or that's what people said—your best friend Peter was dead, killed by your brother—or that's what people said—and James and Lily were killed by Voldemort because of your brother—or that's what people said.

Everything was suddenly too much. You didn't know what to do; you couldn't move; you could hardly breathe, and when you closed the phone, you fell to the floor. You hugged your knees tightly, feeling the weight of the world crashing down on you. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to process the overwhelming emotions flooding through you. You screamed till your voice was hoarse, the pain and confusion consuming you completely. It felt like the ground beneath you was crumbling, leaving you stranded in a world that no longer made sense. And you cried till there were no tears left.

The next time you saw Remus, it was at James and Lily's funeral, and he wasn't looking any better. His eyes were red-rimmed and hollow, his usual calm demeanour replaced by a haunted expression. You both stood there in silence, united in grief, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again. He didn't come closer to you; he didn't speak to you; he didn't even look at you, but you could still see his tired eyes with black circles underneath. No one actually talked to you. It was very obvious that you weren't welcome there. You were a Black after all, and they thought your brother had betrayed them. As you watched the crowd disperse, you felt a heavy weight of loneliness settle in your chest. The whispers and glances only confirmed what you already knew—you were truly alone in your grief. Mary wasn't there either to offer you any comfort or support; she had obliviated herself.

Even when you tried to approach him, he simply turned away without saying a word. You looked too much alike to Sirius, and he couldn't look at you without thinking of him and his betrayal.

So weeks passed, and you found yourself isolated, grappling with your sorrow in silence. The absence of understanding and empathy from those around you only deepened your sense of loss. But you couldn't bear it; you felt like you were losing your mind, being so alone. Everyone was happy, celebrating the end of the war, but you knew that only Remus could understand your pain. You decided to reach out to him, so you went to his house and knocked on his door, hoping he would be there to offer you the comfort and support you desperately needed. But no response came.

"Please, Remus, I know you are in here." You begged with your voice cracking and your eyes watering. The silence that followed only made the ache in your heart grow stronger.

"Please open the door for me; I can't do this by myself, Remus. I just need you." you whimpered. As you stood there, waiting for a sign of life from inside the house, you couldn't help but wonder if Remus had truly abandoned you in your time of need.

You touched the door and got closer, trying to hear any movement on the other side, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heavy breathing. The fear of being alone in this moment was overwhelming, as tears started running down your face.

"I lost my brother, my best friend, and my friends too, you know," you said desperately, hoping that Remus would hear you and open the door. You leaned your forehead against the door, feeling defeated and abandoned. You couldn't beg any more; everything seemed useless. You knew he wouldn't respond to you. So before you go, you whispered once last time.

"You are a coward, Remus Lupin because I know I could have loved you, but you wouldn't let me." After that, you didn't bother him again, and that was the last time Remus heard from you for 14 years.

The next time you saw Remus, it was at one of the meetings of the Order. He had changed; he wasn't the sweet boy you had fallen in love with. His eyes were tired, and there was a hardness to his features that hadn't been there before. It was clear that he hadn't spent the best 14 years of his life.

Every person who didn't help you when you needed them was there. It was too awkward for you. You haven't seen any of them for the past few years. They had pushed you away just because of your last name.

So when Sirius asked you to come to the meetings, at first you refused. He understood why. You had told him how your feelings were ignored even by his best friend; you told him how you were left alone to deal with your own grief. But he begged you.

"Please, Y/N, I can't do this alone in this house." You couldn't say no to your brother. Sirius had forgiven them all, so you decided to do the same. It was already difficult to be a runway from Azkaban, but being isolated at the noble and most ancient house of Black was even worse, and you didn't want to leave him alone.

When you saw Remus again, you froze. Your eyes locked with his, and you felt like you were being pulled back into the past. The pain of losing him was still fresh in your heart, but you knew you had to face him eventually.

He didn't know how to react; he was the one who made you go through hell. He was the one who had left you when you needed him the most because he let his insecurities and fears get the best of him. He could still remember the last thing you said to him before walking away. It was like the sound of your voice haunted him. He knew that it was his fault that he didn't let you love him, so he didn't dare reach out to you, afraid of facing the consequences of his actions.

But you approached him, being the brave Gryffindor you always used to be. You couldn't just pretend that you didn't care anymore, even though he had hurt you deeply. So when you saw him getting outside to light a cigarette, you took the chance and followed him to the balcony.

"Remus," you called his name. It sounded so familiar and so strange at the same time, and Remus could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat. He turned slowly to face you. You tried to smile at him, but it came out more as a sad grin. He didn't dare call your name; he was scared that it would sound unfamiliar.

"How have you been?" You asked him when you saw he didn't make a move to speak. Remus hesitated at first. He opened his mouth, but he closed it again. It didn't feel fair to pretend like everything was normal when it clearly wasn't.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, ignoring your question.

"Don't be Remus; it's okay now," you commented, even though you didn't feel like it.

"What I did wasn't right; um, you had lost your friends too; fuck sake your brother even," he said, putting his hand on the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. "I was too selfish. I am sorry; I really am." Remus continued.

"Well, you were," you said with a soft smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "But you can change that, Remus," you added, getting closer to him. You were still hoping that something would change; you were still waiting for the happy ending you deserved after all this pain. Maybe you were just a fool, but you couldn't help it.

But he immediately shook his head. "No, Y/N, come on, you're supposed to be mad at me because I left you all alone. I don't deserve forgiveness," Remus said, looking down in shame. You reached out and gently lifted his chin, meeting his eyes.

"Remus I can't; I can't be mad at you. I was before I came here, and I blame you for almost everything. And I know it sounds stupid, but when I saw you again, all this anger left my body." You said as you felt your eyes watering. "You know that the last time that we actually spoke, we were fighting?" you asked him. Remus nodded, his eyes filled with regret.

"Well, I don't want the last memory of the boy man that I loved love being a fight Remus," you continued.

Remus felt his heart breaking. You were never afraid to show your emotions and speak your mind, and he was so jealous of that.

"I'm not the man you deserve, though, Y/N," he said. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions and trying your best not to feel stupid again.

"It's always ended up like this with you," you whispered, feeling the disappointment settle in your chest.

"I'm so-" Remus tried to say, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

"Don't apologise for something you don't want to change, Remus." You commented, staring straight into his eyes.

"But," he tried again.

"It's okay; I guess still I am a fool, right? " You asked him, and you left him alone. As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be different between the two of you. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air as you made your way inside. Only time would tell, as you carried on with a heavy heart and a glimmer of hope that someday, somehow, things would be different. But still, you didn't feel like hoping anymore.

As the days passed, you tried to ignore Remus, but it was really difficult as he was in every meeting of the Order. You didn't talk to him after your talk on the balcony, but Remus was dying to speak to you. He knew he didn't have any rights because he was the one who rejected you again and again. However, he found his opportunity when you met Harry for the first time again.

You were alone in the kitchen; Harry had just left, and you were trying to calm yourself.

"He looks exactly like James, doesn't he?" Remus murmured behind you. You slowly turned to look at him, and you nodded.

"I feel like I'm watching him again." You answered him.

"But with Lily's eyes," he continued.

"Exactly, but I felt like if I was going to look at him for a little longer, I would have started crying." You said trying to look away as Remus got closer to you. His hand wiped a tear from your cheek that started running.

"You broke my heart, Remus," you said, getting away from his touch and leaving the room.

Remus was once again left alone, but not for long. Sirius entered the room, shaking his head at his friend's actions. "You really messed up this time," Sirius muttered, crossing his arms and staring at Remus with disappointment. Remus sighed.

"And you are an idiot." Your brother continued.

"Oi," Remus said, looking up at Sirius with a mix of guilt and frustration, slightly offended.

"You love her so much that you are afraid that you are going to hurt her, but you are too blind to see that you're already hurting her because of that fear," Sirius said to his friend. "I can't watch her run behind you for all her life, Moony; please change that." He continued, and without hearing Remus's answer, he left him once again alone.

After the day you met Harry again, you stopped going to the meetings of the Order; it was too much for you. Watching Remus again and again and trying to pretend he didn't break your heart was becoming unbearable. You were still a member, and you still learned the news for Sirius, but you couldn't bring yourself to face Remus after everything that had happened. And he knew that you had stopped showing your face in meetings just because of him.

So the next time you saw him, it was on a mission. On the mission, you lost Sirius. On the mission, you saw your cousin killing your brother in front of your eyes. Everything went quiet for a second. You couldn't hear Harry's scream or Bellatrix's song. You didn't even hear Remus calling your name as you fell to your knees in shock. The world seemed to spin around you, and all you could see was the image of Sirius falling through the veil. Remus's voice finally broke through the fog in your mind.

"Y/N" Remus called again. You just shook your head. You couldn't believe it. You had lost your brother again, but this time forever.

When you were at your worst, Remus was there for you. You felt grateful for his presence and support for the first time in a long time. You knew you weren't alone in your grief. He came and lived with you until you could finally begin to heal from the loss of Sirius. When you would have a nightmare, he was next to you, making you tea and trying to comfort you. Remus truly became your rock during this difficult time. But this treatment didn't last for long. He started watching, that you became attached to him, and he knew it wasn't healthy for either of you. You didn't deserve him, he reminded himself again and again. Even though he wanted to feel your lips touch his, he couldn't allow himself to act on those feelings. So when he noticed you weren't grieving any more, Remus started distancing himself from you, and you understood that, so you decided to make it easier for him. You didn't like feeling like a burden on him, so you slowly began to create some distance as well.

"I want you to leave." You finally dared to tell him. Remus was taken aback by your words, but he knew deep down that it was his fault. He had brought it upon himself by pushing you away in the first place and rejecting you again and again.

"What?" He asked confusedly, not expecting such a direct request from you. You took a deep breath and repeated.

"You are distracting yourself from me again, Remus, so I'm making it easier for you, and I'm asking you to leave."

"Y/N," he called your name; it almost sounded like a plea for you to reconsider.

"Look. I can't, Remus. I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling like a fool waiting for you to let me love you," you said, trying not to let the frustration and hurt seep into your voice. "So, or you're gonna stay and we'll figure it out, or you're gonna leave and we'll go our separate ways. It's up to you now," you finished, steeling yourself for his response. Remus looked down, his expression unreadable, before finally nodding and turning to leave without another word to start packing his stuff.

When he finally left, you didn't cry that night; you physically couldn't; there weren't any tears left. You were used to this feeling of being left alone. You just felt numb, like a hollow shell, devoid of any emotion or warmth. The silence in the room was deafening, only broken by the sound of your own shallow breaths. You lay there in the darkness, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was okay, you told yourself. You would get through this, just like you always did.

Remus didn't know how to feel. He told himself that he had made a promise with your brother to make you stop running behind him, and he believed that he was doing the right thing. But, oh, Sirius didn't mean that, and deep down, he knew that.

It had been one year since you heard from Remus and every other member of the Order. You had stopped using magic, well, except from your house. You decided to distance yourself from the wizarding world completely, focusing on your Muggle life instead. It wasn't easy at first, but you managed. You found a Muggle work as a barista at a local coffee shop. You were content with your new routine.

You left behind a world that gave you so much pain, but the memories of your past still lingered in the back of your mind. So you were trying to forget and let everything go. But when Remus appeared suddenly at your door, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions and memories flood back. Despite your efforts to move on, the wizarding world seemed determined to pull you back in.

"Remus," you called his name in shock. He looked up at you, and he could barely look into your eyes.

"What, um, what are you doing here?" You asked, surprised by his unexpected appearance. You felt your heart beat faster as you struggled to be relaxed.

Remus hesitated before responding. "I'm getting married," he finally said. Your eyes widened in surprise as you processed his words, leaving you speechless.

You shook your head trying to process the news and at the same time denied it.

"I want you there, Y/N." He said, and an awkward chuckle left your mouth.

"Me? At your wedding?" You stammered, still shaking your head.

Remus didn't answer you; he just stood there, still trying to avoid your gaze.

"No, Remus," you stated. "I can't do that," you said firmly, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. Remus looked down.

"Please, Y/N, you-" he started saying.

"Remus, you broke my heart again and again because you wouldn't let me love you, and you are coming here asking me to come to your wedding. What, was she prettier?" You asked, taking a breath before continuing, "Actually, I don't want to know."

"But, you know what, Remus, I'll begin not to love you, and I'll tell myself that I deserve someone who will choose me every single day without hesitation, but you, Remus, time will cast a spell on you, and you won't forget me. Because you'll never get away from the sound of a woman that loved you." You stood there, strong and hurt, biting your lips, trying to hold back tears.

You didn't say anything else, and he just stood there in silence, unable to meet your gaze. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of what could have been, as you closed the door behind you, leaving him to ponder the truth of your words in solitude. The echo of your declaration remained in his mind, a haunting melody that he couldn't shake off.

bonus.

A year had passed since Remus's unexpected visit. At that time, you had moved on from your old wizard life. You bought a new house, trying to leave behind any reminders of your past. You had let go of the dreams and hopes you once held for Remus and accepted that some things were not meant to be.

But on one sunny day in May, as you were looking outside the window, something caught your attention. There seemed to be an unusually high number of people dressed in strange cloaks around the city. And you immediately knew that something had happened. You started getting worried that maybe something had happened to your old friends, so you decided to buy The Daily Prophet.

When your owl arrived, the front page of The Daily Prophet had a large headline that read, You-Know-Who has been defeated. Your heart leapt with joy as you realised that the wizarding world wasn't so dark after all.

But as you continued reading, your eyes fell upon the names of those who had lost their lives in the battle, and a wave of sadness washed over you. And when you saw Remus's name between them, your heart sank. You couldn't believe it. Remus, the man who had loved you with all your heart, was gone. And despite everything, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss. All the pain and anger you had towards him suddenly disappeared, replaced by a deep sadness for what could have been. You remembered all the moments you had shared with him, both good and bad, and before you could even realise it, a small cry left your mouth. And now, all those memories felt bittersweet as tears streamed down your face.

Because even though he was the man you used to love once, your last memory of him was a fight.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

reblogs are always appreciated!

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Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

[nemesyaaa]

half return. momma's boy!pope x maneater!reader.

warnings : slight smut so minors DNI.

you were a maneater, and your favorite type was momma's boy. in particular, the pogues because they were different.

you were the kind of woman everyone saw from miles away but also knew so well. you had a bad reputation. people talked a lot behind your back to say bad things but you didn't have time, either to listen, care or to respond.

oh no, you were way above these people. the attention you were looking for was not from them, but from the other side, from those who were not really rich, who were struggling to live and who lived without worrying about the consequences.

you were a maneater, so obviously there was a hungry beast in your heart and today, like every other day, the beast was hungry. the monster wanted to eat some man.

you weren't really a momma's girl, and you were hated by your boyfriends' mothers..you weren't good enough for their son. you were too mean, too vulgar, too honest. you were nothing like a daughter-in-law and yet, men dreamed of marrying you.

it wasn't a question of dream bodies, you had marks on your body, a little belly, peculiarities but you knew how to hide your insecurities. you had the attitude and the reputation.

you were like a jaguar, magnificent, confident and glorious.

today, you had a crush on a guy. pope heyward according to one of your friends. he was part of a group of pogues who were pretty well known for being troublemakers.

but him. this man, you knew he never did anything wrong. you knew he was a good boy who wanted to please his mother, and who easily fell in love with girls stronger than him.

you knew in advance that pope heyward was too nice. and that you were going to eat him so easily.

the heat was so hot. you wore a white top that barely hid the bottom of your tits, but showed off your belly piercing quite well. the sun made your precious toy sparkle. you had jewelry everywhere, strass on your teeth, dozens of rings on your fingers, more than five necklaces around your neck, and twenty bracelets around your arms. you had the money for, well, your daddy's money.

your jeans came down to your hips, exposing your black thong. physically, you couldn't be pope heyward’s type. everyone would have bet on it.

when he looked up, you met his gaze. you could sense that he was shyer than his blond friend next to him. because he, well his friend had smiled directly at you.

you had kindly ignored him because he wasn’t the one you wanted. no, you wanted the shy guy, the one who would never assume what you would make him feel.

“ hi pope ! “ you smiled.

"so rude of you to ignore me but so kook of you." said jj.

“ start by not making trouble with my friends the kooks.”

“ okay, so you'll stop sleeping with all my pogue friends.”

“ is it jealousy, jj? did you want your blow job too or you just a crybaby that much?”

the tension had started to rise and pope had cleared his throat.

" can i help you ? " he talked with a friendly voice.

"i don't know what to choose for an ice cream flavor.”

“ i can make you a personal cream if you want.”

“i don’t understand why you hate me so much jj but okay, i will just ignore you. ”

“i’'m going to smoke, pope. be careful with her.” he had placed a hand on his friend's shoulder before disappearing as if to warn him.

“don't pay attention to him. he's not mean, just a little too protective.”

“you look like you've been broken many times.”

"not really. girls don't really hang out with me.”

“they’re missing something.”

you looked at each other through the mirror window for a moment, not knowing what to say.

“are you flirting with me?”

“yes, pope heyward. i'm flirting with you.”

“ you don’t know me. "

“that’s why i want to know you. i know, i'm not your type. ”

“i don’t mean to be rude but you have a reputation as a maneater.”

“don't be a sheep who follows others people, pope. especially when you are different from the others. you are a smart person.”

“what flavors of ice cream do you want?”

“i want your favorite.”

you smiled. when you handed him the money to get your ice cream back, he politely refused.

“it’s on the house.”

“ i really want to pay. i’m a customer like any other.”

“if you want to pay so much, you can pay differently.”

" how ?"

" you can ask me out on a date? it will give you the opportunity to get to know me better."

“so smart of my boy. oh and don't tell jj about that. “

“ i don't want to lie to him. “

“ just don't tell him, pope. it's about us, only, okay ? “

“ okay. you're too pretty, i can't resist. “

“ you're the only pretty thing here. “

and that was how you started dating pope heyward.

you were a maneater so obviously pope had fallen really hard in love.

you were so different from all the girls he knew. when he was with you, he had this vital need to make you happy, to buy for you, to cut checks, to possess you, to be your only boy.

you had a strong energy, the kind that made you feel like you had it all and had it all under control. you were convincing and confident. you hated losing control. and perhaps that was the reason for your attraction to soft and naive boys.

pope's mother didn't like you. she hated when you went to their house, when you kissed her son, when you slept with him. she hated the idea of you two being together.

sometimes pope felt bad about it. he didn't want to disappoint anyone. but he couldn't be both your boy and his mother's boy.

once on a summer evening, you invited him to your place so that it was just the two of you. you showed him your room, your favorite things, your jewelry, your family photos, everything that mattered to you. then you put on some music.

he was lying there in the bed, shirtless with only his pants on, a cigarette in his lips, his eyes hanging on your moving body. he only looked at you, you were the only thing that existed.

you were beautiful. the frightening and majestic beauty of the jaguar. you moved so elegantly. you were in control of your body, you knew how to make it beautiful, how to make it so attractive.

jazz was coming out of the record player. you were in your underwear, enjoying the air coming in through the open window. you spun and spun as if the world had stopped.

you almost fell, but pope caught you in his arms.

"perfect. let's dance together, all night, momma's boy."

“don’t call me that.”

“isn’t that what you are?”

you laughed and he captured your laugh with his lips, kissing your mouth gently.

“i want to stay here forever.”

" where ? "

"in your arms. here. in my room. i just want you, pope. ”

you had started kissing every part of his face, placing wet kisses on his soft skin.

“i want you. and you want me too.”

“you know, we will have to take responsibility for our relationship.”

"i know, i know but not now. it's fun being a secret isn't it?”

you started to bite him gently, and he started to flee your small bites. this little thing had turned into a playful fight.

he had the advantage because he was on top of you, him catching every one of your thrusts. you managed to get out of his grip and rolled onto your side before getting on the bed.

he followed you, and you threw the first punch. right in the chest. he had subdued you quickly, still gently, his face right above yours.

“ where is the maneater who always wins, where is the maneater who destroys men? because i am beatin her ass right now.”

“ no, you're not. “

“ what?” you flipped him over with a smile, placing yourself on top of him.

“ you enjoy the game a little too much, pope. i'm fucking sitting on your boner and if you make a move pope heyward I'll destroy you. “

“ real queens do not destroy the throne they sit on. and if you want some child princess, take care of it. “

you had started to move slowly, gently rubbing your pussy over his bulge. you moved efficiently, enough to feel your boyfriend’s cock getting even harder against you.

you could tell he was big by the way you silently rose as his dick awoke.

this room, this sensuality, this warmth, was nothing without the music of marvin gaye.

a wet spot had appeared on his pants, and you used it to rub faster, to press your pussy harder against his erection. the sound of his grunts in sync with your moans.

he held your hands, and kissed them at the same time. he could cum now if you asked him. because you had a way of moving that made him so weak.

“ boys can't play and win. “

“ i think you're late my girl, i win since ive got a girl like you. “

his hands grabbed your thighs while you slipped harder.

“ ‘not going to cum now" he said before taking his length out of his boxers.

he rubbed the tip against your dripping pussy, you were so wet it almost dropped between your lips. he had spit in his hand, and started moving up and down on his cock, jerking off quickly

" what are you doing ? "

“you’re going to ride me, but with my cock deep inside you this time, girl.”

he had smacked your ass, letting it bounce against his palm before you pushed his cock into your pussy. hands on his abs, you began to move, riding him. the problem with this position is that you quickly started to get tired. all the power you had relegated to pope now. he understood the signal, doing the job for you with a smirk. he yanked his dick deeper into your walls, letting you feel every inch of his size. he loved your moans every time his hips hit yours.

the sound of your two bodies slapping together in the atmosphere like the noise of your golden belly chain against your skin. his movements were hard, tearing loud cries from you. you had tears in your eyes, whimpers of pleasure. he took you so well. he was a good boy who knew how to make you cry.

he was taller than you. the size kink was easily noticeable even more when his cock widened your tight hole. and also, when he started touching you, his hand covering your clit.

he had pinched it gently, teasing the little piece with his fingers. he had fun with it, tugging on it while thrusting wilder inside your body, your legs shaking on the mattress.

your hole was squeezing him and he loved how tight it was. he squeezed your clit as he sped up his movements.

"not a maneater anymore ?" he said with a smile "just a girl who wanted to be eaten by her man.”

“ oh shut up, pope heyward. “

“you're the only one making noise here baby.”

you kissed him to shut his mouth. he was right and you knew it. you knew pope loved your strass on your teeths. at first he found it weird and thought you were giving yourself a style but now he was crazy about it.

you were still a maneater but you had a boyfriend so it was different. and then, you were in love. you had learned what it was like to have a man who truly wanted you and loved you.

you were supposed to run away but you didn't want to leave him behind. the problem with nice guys was that they weren't bad. they never held a grudge against anyone, and did not get angry. pope panicked more than he got angry, for example.

when he released his cum deep inside you, you came with him. you looked at him. there was more sweat on his body. he was breathing faster.

you could tell he was proud. and he could be.

you loved every single moment with pope. he was a good boyfriend. he was intelligent, studious, kind and friendly. he worked at school, after classes.

so what you loved was when he broke the rules for you. you used to go and throw stones at his window in the evening to get him to go out. you went surfing in the dark night, bathing in the midnight moon, in calm, cold water, or you went rollerblading at a club because it was fun and the perfect place for couples.

you also spent time in bookstores. it wasn’t your thing but you loved the moment when he told you about the book he was choosing. he would start talking for hours, navigating between the shelves. you followed him and listened to him.

"sometimes, i really feel dumb. " you said.

" you don't understand anything, right ? "

" yes. i'm sorry. but i like it actually. you're pope, the smart boy, the nerdy guy, the master brain and i just love being your girlfriend but it's so new to me. i can't fully understand."

" you're not bored ? "

" never. i can't be bored when my boyfriend is so intelligent. never. what was the book already ?"

" see ? you don't want to listen to that. "

"it's just new to me. be patient and you will be the only one to get bored. "

" deal ? "

" deal. "

and you also confessed your relationship to the pogues. jj pretended to be surprised but was nice to you.

"don't break his heart, okay? he forgive everything, but not me. "

" don’t worry, i will not hurt your boyfriend. "

he turned to Pope, ignoring your bullshit words.

“you know man, i always wondered what the strass felt like while she sucks your cock.”

" JJ. "

"What? I was just asking!”

the end bc i really want to kick my ass. this is not that good. at least, i tried something 💀💀 i will work harder. i just tag @rafecameroninterlude et @oceandriveab . i'm sorry for the expectations 🫠