#college fuckboy!duncan

[melodymunson]

AHS, Michael Langdon, Duncan Shepherd, Xavier Plympton, Jim Mason, and Andy Dolan masterlist

My fics for Cody Fern and American Horror Story

Jim Mason x reader- drown in this love

Jim Mason x reader- nothing fucks with my baby

Jim Mason x reader x Duncan Shepherd x Michael Langdon x Andy Dolan- Adopting a pet

Xavier Plympton x reader x Montana Duke- wild side

Xavier, Montana, and reader attempt to have a drunk and high threesome at his apartment but when the reader fails to have a major orgasm and when the sex is less than expected, Montana steps in to finish off the job.

Michael Langdon x reader x Madison Montgomery- bad romance

Michael, Madison, and you are a couple at the outpost. All that is standing in their way is the coven of witches. When Michael catches you and Madison in the act he teaches you both a lesson you won't forget.

Duncan Shepherd x reader- birthday surprise

You decide to try and find yourself a good summer at Camp Redwood with your good friend Xavier despite the threat of Mr. Jingles. When you happen to stumble upon Brooke and Montana in the forbidden cabin, a wild night for you and Xavier ensues.

Xavier Plympton x reader x Montana Duke x Brooke Thompson

You decide to try and find yourself a good summer at Camp Redwood with your good friend Xavier despite the threat of Mr. Jingles. When you happen to stumble upon Brooke and Montana in the forbidden cabin, a wild night for you and Xavier ensues.

Duncan Shepherd x reader- forever and always

You meet Duncan at a charity fundraiser and after winning a date with you, he takes you out. Soon after you start dating him and go on many dates together, falling in love before you get your happy ever after with your one and only Prince Charming.

Jim Mason x OC multi-series Heart of Novocaine

Jim loves to party and has a drug problem but when he finds out that his best friend has a drinking problem, he decides to get help for both of them. He is in love with her. The problem? She already has a girlfriend and he has a girlfriend too. Are they a match made in heaven for each other or are they just another lesson in each other's lives?

Duncan Shepherd x OC multi-series Strangelove

Duncan and his girlfriend Rose have been together for going on two years. They care deeply about each other. She has a secret though that he doesn’t know. Their relationship will be put to the test and their boundaries will be pushed. Will they be able to stay together or will their relationship start to unravel?

Duncan Shepherd x OC multi-series Another life

(Inspired partly by Eli Roth's/Keanu Reeves movie Knock Knock).

Duncan and his girlfriend of almost 3 years have their relationship put to the test when she goes away on a trip and Duncan is left at home until he receives a visit that will change his life forever. Crossover with American Horror Story Apocalypse and the Outpost/Michael Langdon.

Michael Langdon x reader multi-series Waiting For a Girl Like You

Michael is a player and reader knew him when they were kids. You go your separate ways and later cross paths again in college. You can't help but feel an attraction towards him. He ends up becoming your Italian tutor and you both come to know each other again. The problem? Michael is a fuckboy. Will your and Michael's rekindled friendship turn into something more or will you stay friends/FWB?

Surviving the Apocalypse- Michael Langdon x OC witches series

Who will survive the apocalypse? Its the end of the world. Michael, Coco, Gallant, Mallory, Venable, Mead, 2 witches Harmony and Scarlet, among others are some of the lucky few to survive. Or are they? They will be tested and pushed to their limits. Michael must test those left alive in outpost 3 but will he be able to resist temptation?

Andy Dolan x reader (abandoned wip)

Andy and reader had a tumultous and often complicated relationship and neither wanted things to end. They dated for almost 4 years but never married and even had a kid together and it was a girl named Opal.

Duncan Shepherd x reader x Emily Nelson (Simple Favor crossover oneshot).

Reader is best friends with Emily and dating professor Duncan. One night they decide to take their relationship to the next level with Emily once reader reveals her true feelings for the other woman.

Michael Langdon x reader oneshot- If I was Your Vampire

Michael Langdon x wife reader x Mallory oneshot (WIP)

Michael and you are married and in the outpost 3 together. When Mallorys true intentions and identity are shown she gets exposed and Michael and you make her pay.

@langdonss

[littledemondani]

everything changes | duncan shepherd x fem!reader | part two

warnings: College Fuckboy!Duncan, semi-public smut, drinking, clubbing, reader being an all-around savage bitch, unprotected sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

words: 2.2K

summary: You and your friends go clubbing to celebrate the start of the new semester, but what happens when Duncan ends up going to the same club as you?

a/n: Hey babes! This is the second part of my College Fuckboy!Duncan headcanons. This is also my first time writing smut. Also, big thank you to @wroteclassicaly for helping me with ideas for this. :D I really hope you all enjoy this, and I love y’all <3

part one

Thank you @ms-mead for this lovely moodboard <3 ily!

“Uhh, my name is Y/N actually.” You chuckled, trying desperately to keep your rage anxiety at bay. A million thoughts raced through your head at once that you didn’t even hear a thing Annette was saying to you. She excused herself and left to go do god knows what (you didn’t care, you just wanted to get the fuck out of there).

You got your phone from your clutch and send for an Uber. The last thing you want is to be stuck with Duncan for longer than you need to be. He hasn’t said a word to you. Nor has he so much as looked at you. Adding more fuel to the pent up rage you’re feeling. You decided to go outside and wait, knowing if you stay inside with him that you’re just going to lose your shit in front of everyone.

Once you reach the doorway you look behind you at Duncan one last time. He didn’t follow you, his utter shock keeping him from moving. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as if at any moment it would burst out of him. He knew he had fucked up, severely fucked up. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to follow you out and explain everything. 

He lifted his gaze from the floor to the doorway, locking in on your eyes. The look of betrayal and anguish on your face shattered him more than he’d like to admit. But as quickly as your eyes met, he turned away and walked off to go greet some acquaintances of his mother.

You felt your heart sink but knew what had to be done. This was it for you. No more putting up with Duncan and his bullshit. You opened the door and walked out of Duncan’s life, for good.

-

Summer vacation has come and gone - the beginning was spent crying over Duncan. For two weeks you waited for a call or text from him, heart jumping each time your phone rang. But nothing ever came. 

You can’t say you were surprised, especially not after the way he acted at the party. “Duncan Shepherd doesn’t chase after girls” had been a rumor you heard one day while waiting for class to start. It was true though: he didn’t chase after girls - they chased after him.

‘Not me,’ you thought to yourself. You were done with trying to figure Duncan out, done with crying yourself to sleep, done with wondering what the fuck you did wrong (which was nothing, of course). So you sought out to rid Duncan of your mind, and it worked.

The late summer nights were filled with drinking until you couldn’t feel anymore, getting lost in the embrace of another person, and waking up with a pounding headache that lasted all day. 

Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way - but it got the job done. You soon forgot all about Duncan Shepherd and his fuckboy ways. Until it was time to head back to D.C. for a new semester. Then the memory of that handsome face asshole hit you like a ton of bricks.

Now here you are, back in D.C., and getting ready to go out to a club with your roommates to celebrate the end of your first week back. Anxiety flooded your veins at the thought of Duncan possibly being there with his frat brothers. But with the help of your roomies, and about 5 shots of tequila, that fear dissipated.

You were wearing a short form-fitting black dress, black Louboutin heels (yes..the ones Duncan got you), and a dainty necklace. After straightening your hair you put on your makeup. You looked over yourself one last time in the mirror, making sure every hair was in place and your makeup was perfect.

-

The club was filled with a bunch of sweaty college students, some drunk, some high, some both. You were on your 4th vodka cranberry, the drink making you feel fuzzy and carefree.

Your roommate invited her boyfriend and his friends, one of them being a guy you had taken some interest in as the night progressed. He was tall, but not too tall, with short brown hair, lean muscle, and pretty green eyes. 

Maybe it was your carefree attitude since leaving Duncan or your inebriated state of mind (let’s go with that one) that had you pulling whatshisname to some semi-secluded area near the restrooms. He was just looking too good and had been whispering dirty things in your ear as you danced with him, causing arousal to pool in your panties.

You pulled him in for a kiss, full of need with your tongues fighting for dominance. He walked you until your back hit the wall, running his hands down over your ass - squeezing - then stopping at the back of your thighs. Your hand snaking down to palm at his semi-hard cock, eliciting a small groan from him. 

“Jump,” he orders, lifting you with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You’re not afraid of someone seeing us?” he asks while unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.

“Just shut up and fuck me already.” 

Without hesitation, he pulls your lacy thong to the side and slowly eases himself into your tight, wet cunt. You let out a breathy moan, his girth stretching you deliciously. 

He rocked into you until he bottomed out completely, allowing you a moment to adjust to him. You grabbed the nape of his hair and tugged harshly, “I said, fuck me already.” a hint of venom laced in your voice.

You didn’t want him to be nice to you, you wanted him to use you. To fuck you like you meant nothing to him because he meant nothing to you. He was just a distraction, another person in your fucked up way of coping with the loss of Duncan.

He chuckled, “If that’s what you want-” he snapped his hips into you with brutal force, “then that’s what you’ll get.”

The pace he set was harsh and unrelenting. You loved every second of it, the way the head of his cock hit your most sensitive spot, the way your back was being pushed into the hard tile wall, the way your legs burned from clinging to him like your life depended on it, his bruising grip on your ass.

Your head was thrown back against the wall, hips snapping to meet his harsh thrusts, eyes closed in total bliss. You could feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach, that familiar warmth spreading throughout your body.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, finally opening your eyes - when you saw him. Standing by the doorway of the men’s room, and watching you like a hawk, was Duncan Shepherd. You let out a loud, broken whine that came out more like a moan. 

“What the fuck?!” your train of thought actually leaving your mouth. This can’t be happening. You closed your eyes, thinking if you open them he’ll be gone, he’s just a figment of your drunk imagination. 

You open your eyes again, but no, he’s still standing there. Looking every bit the same as the last time you saw him. His hair perfectly styled, wearing his signature black leather jacket, dark jeans, and a black shirt. You let out another broken moan, pussy involuntarily clenching at the sight of him.

“Mmm, you gonna cum for me, doll? Cum all over my cock?” you ignored whatshisname, the only thing mattering to you at this moment was Duncan standing not very far from you, still watching you.

If he’s just going to stand there and watch, then you were definitely going to give him a show. You finally lock eyes with him, seeing the look of hurt (?) deep in his eyes...even better. 

You grab onto the back of whatshisname's hair, using it as leverage to help you bounce harder on his length. You moaned extra loud, wanting Duncan to hear you rather than just see you.

Each buck of your hips, every moan leaving your pretty mouth, was a knife twist in Duncan’s stomach. He couldn’t believe what the fuck was happening. How had he not noticed you before he went into the restroom? And are those the heels he bought you? 

It takes everything inside of him not to walk over to you and punch that guy in the face. But what would that do? Make you hate him even more than you already do? He knew there was nothing he could say or do at this moment, and it fucking killed him. 

It killed him to see you with another guy, much less fucking another guy - having someone else draw out those sexy moans and whimpers he loved hearing. Having another guy feel the way your cunt clenches and flutters when you're about to cum, it was all too much for him. 

Yet he couldn’t look away.

The way Duncan’s eyes bore into yours, like daggers, sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. This entire ordeal was something you found to be... exhilarating. You weren’t one to actively seek revenge - but this sure did feel fucking good, and you were getting off on it.

You weren’t going to last long, your orgasm fastly approaching. You turned your head slightly so your lips were near whatshisname’s ear, eyes never leaving Duncan’s, and whispering, “I’m g-gonna cum. I want you to cum inside me.” It was like your words flipped a switch in him, sending him into a frenzy.

His already bruising grip on your ass became even harder, thrusting up into you with such force you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit, much less walk after. Your moans turned into screams and legs shaking around him as your violent orgasm ripped through you.

A few more thrusts and his cum painted your walls. You stayed connected to each other for a bit, both trying to regulate your breathing. He moved to set you down, making sure you were okay to stand. You adjusted your thong and dress - looking up to find that Duncan had left from where he had been standing.

A tiny pang of disappointment (?) hit you. You had hoped that maybe Duncan would still be there, that you’d be able to rub it in his face even more that you were doing fine without him. Your thoughts were interrupted by whatshisname taking your hand in his and pulling you back towards your friends.

-

Several drinks later you found yourself back on the dancefloor with whatshisname. Your hips swaying to the beat of the song and his hands roaming all over your body. You turned around to have your back against his chest, your ass rolling against him.

And - for the second time that night, you caught sight of Duncan Shepherd. He was sitting in the VIP section of the club (of course) laughing with his frat brothers and some girls. One of them practically sitting in his lap.

Bitch.

Duncan was trying to have a good time. Trying to force the image of you fucking another guy to the back of his mind. Tried to let the girl practically throwing herself at him distract him from the clusterfuck of emotions running through him. Tried to drown his thoughts in alcohol in hopes that they would stop screaming at him. 

“Hey Dunc, isn’t that Y/N?” one of his frat brothers called out, pointing you out on the dancefloor. He turned his gaze to where his friend was looking, seeing you dancing seductively with your date. Without thinking he stood up and marched his way over to you. Ignoring the others telling him to stop and it was a bad idea. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got to you. Wasn’t sure what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. He contemplated turning back but decided against it. He needed you to know how he felt, how he truly felt.

No more hiding.

Once he got to where you were, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you off the dancefloor. With the anger evident on his face you couldn’t help but start laughing. Was he actually serious? After everything, he put you through, and now he’s the one who’s angry? It was hilarious to you - even in your drunken state of mind.

Your laughter only made Duncan angrier. Pushing you up against a wall and trapping you by placing both hands on the side of your head. “You think this is funny, Y/N?” his voice seething. Nostrils flaring from how pissed off he was. 

You couldn’t help but think he was still fucking hot, even when he was mad. You also couldn’t help the arousal it sent through your body. Or the shiver it sent down your spine.

“Yeah, I do actually. Now if you don’t mind-” you move so you could leave, but Duncan pushed you back into the wall. “I’m not done talking to you. I don’t know what you see in that guy. He can’t fuck you like I can, make you cum like I can. He probably didn’t even make you cum at all.” he taunts while playing with a strand of your hair.

If you weren’t pissed off before - you were fucking pissed now. “He did make me cum. I can feel it between my thighs, wanna see?” you say with a smile. Duncan’s face dropped, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Didn’t think so, now get the fuck out of my way, Duncan.” you give him the nastiest glare you can muster up and push him off of you, walking back towards your date and your friends.

And Duncan stood there, head hanging low. Cursing himself for talking to you the way he did, for letting his anger get in the way of what he was really trying to do. But there was nothing he could do about it now. No way for him to come back from that. At least not right at that moment. 

For the last time - Duncan Shepherd lets you walk away from him.

-

Tags: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @fckinsupreme @lovelylangdonx @wroteclassicaly @svjourn @hecohansen31 @ms-mead @your-daddy-langdon @delgrey

[borahaerhy]

Love and Sarcasm (1) - knj

Summary: The second semester of your sophomore year in college has started and there are only two people in your creative writing class that have published works: You, and Kim Namjoon; a pretentious know-it-all that just so happens to be in the same frat as your best friend.

Pairing: Fuckboy!Namjoon x Demi!Chubby!Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, College! au, eventual smut

Warnings: Namjoon is toxic, Jimin drinks some wine before driving but he's not intoxicated, College parties, the entirety of bts being in a frat, Y/n has a caffeine addiction, references to Jimin and Y/n partying a lot while underage.

Word count: 5.6k

Previous | Next

Note: Hey guys! I decided to make it a mini series, It should be 4-5 parts because I wasn't even half done and we were almost at 15k words so I decided I should split it up xD. I hope you enjoy :))

“There’s my favorite librarian,” You looked up from the cart of books you had been organizing and at your best friend of almost 10 years, holding a large coffee that you desperately hoped was for you.  

“Did you get me the good stuff?” You asked as he handed you the cup, rolling his eyes as your eyes rolled back into your head as the hot bitter liquid met your tongue.  

“Of course, I also got you a donut because coffee isn’t breakfast,” you gasp at his bold statement clutching your chest as exaggeratedly as you could muster.  

“Says who?” You question as you gently set your coffee down on your desk, features still exaggerated 

“Most people, I’m pretty sure. Eat the damn thing; and next time you wake up late ask someone else to get your coffee for you, I have shit to do,” he dropped the bag with the donut in it on your desk as you resumed organizing the books.  

“Where have you got to be before 4pm?” You scoff, eyeing your friend out of the corner of your eye as he yawns.  

“I’ll have you know,” he speaks through his yawn, “That my classes are early this semester. My first ones at 10,” You give a slight smirk as you shake your head lightly.  

“Wow, look at you up and out of the house a whole 2 hours before you have to be anywhere – if I didn’t see it I wouldn’t believe it,” he narrows his eyes at you even though you weren’t even close to facing him.  

“Haha, very funny. When are your classes for this semester?” He questions, sliding his hands into the pockets of his winter jacket.  

“Uh, my Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes start at 9, so I should actually probably leave here soon. I have creative writing then at 2, I have one of the 40 English classes I have to take. Tuesdays and Thursdays are just Child Development which starts at noon,” You furrow your eyebrows, struggling to remember your new schedule off the top of your head.  

“That English class, is it with Duncan?” You look over at him before nodding, picking up your coffee with one hand and placing the other on your hip as you take a sip. “Thank god, you know I hate reading, you’re going to be my lifeline, my little nerdy friend,” You cock an eyebrow at his mention of the word little.  

“Jimin, we’re the same height, and I think I’ve got a few pounds on you, please stop calling me little,” you set down your coffee and look down at the sheet for the books that are due back today and start crossing off a few that had already been returned.  

“I meant more figuratively. You’re emotionally 5’2,” You roll your eyes, a small smile creeping through you try to hide. “I need to get going, I have to meet up with the frat before I get to classes today,”  

“Still can’t believe they let you into a frat,” you stood up straight again, taking one last sip of your coffee before you pushed the cart of books out from behind your desk.  

“Still can’t believe you refuse to come to my frat parties.”  

“Can you seriously see me going to a frat party?” You asked, almost laughing at the thought. Jimin nodded.  

“I have actually physically seen you at several frat parties, Y/n,”  

“Yeah, in high school,” He shrugged as he started walking backwards toward the front door.  

“I’m just saying, I’ve seen the party girl in you, babe. Don’t pretend she doesn’t exist anymore – she was hot,” you rolled your eyes as he pulled his hat back down over his ears before stepping out into the cold.  

- 

You made your way to the back of the large lecture room, sitting in the back row next to a very large window that overlooked the snow-covered campus. You placed your 2nd coffee of the day down on your desk before sitting down, satisfied with your view of the board in front of you. It wasn’t a large class, so by the time everyone else had made their way in, you were still the only person in the back row.  

“Good morning class, my name is Helen Swain, and I’ll be your professor for this semester,” She went on for a few more minutes, talking about what was going to be covered in the class and what to expect, even handing out a paper syllabus before announcing that she expected physical copies of all of your assignments. Looks like it’s time to invest in a printer.  

“And I just have one more thing to announce before we get started. As this is a creative writing class, I thought it would be nice to highlight some of your classmates that have their very own published works! To the two who have their work published, would you please stand and tell us a little bit about it?” Your heart sunk as you reluctantly stood up, one other student a few rows ahead of you standing up as well. All eyes fell to him first.  

“Young man in the front, why don��t you tell us a bit about yours?” He nodded and clasped his hands together.  

“Yes, of course. It was a deep and very meaningful poem I wrote when I lost someone who was very close to me. My high school English teacher actually turned it in to a competition where it won first prize and got published,” The professor smiled widely as she began to clap, the rest of the class joining awkwardly as he sat down.  

“That sounds wonderful, I’m glad you had a teacher in high school that saw your talent,” she paused for a moment, turning her gaze to meet you, your hands awkwardly shoved into the pocket of your oversized hoodie. “And what about you, in the back?” All eyes were now on you, but thankfully you were seated much higher up than all of them, so you could largely ignore them.  

“Um, it’s called Sarcastic, and it’s an acrostic of the word sarcastic, that I wrote when I was 15 and turned in to a competition because I had to for a grade, and apparently it was just edgy enough to make the cut,” A couple of the students laughed, not that you minded – it’s hardly impressive and extremely funny that it had even happened. The boy who went first seemed to think it was absolutely hilarious, though.  

“Well, you must’ve been extremely talented to have written something so well at such a young age,” You smirked lightly and gave a thumbs up as you sat down, without any applause.  

She continued on with teaching, the class relatively uneventful as it was only the first day, but you still had an assignment due on Friday: a fictional piece of at least 5,000 words. You wrote down the assignment in your planner that you only ever used the first week or so of new classes, then completely disregarded the rest of the semester, before getting up and walking out of class with everyone else, tossing your long empty cup in the trash on the way out.  

With the hour you had between classes, you decided to go to the schools café and get yourself an iced coffee to have a little variety. From there, you made your way to where you knew Jimin would be getting out of his lecture shortly and want to rant about something before he had to go sit through another 4-hour lecture.  

“Looks like people will probably come to me for help,” you turn behind you, feet still moving in the general direction of when you needed to go before you turned back around as he caught up to you. “No offense, I just think my poem seemed a little more impressive than yours,” You hummed in agreement as you nodded, taking a sip of your coffee as you watched the smirk on his face grow confused.  

“No, that’s good, actually, because I really hate it when random people come up to me and start talking about thing’s they generally know nothing about,” you both stopped walking, now turned to face one another as you took another sip of your coffee before slapping him on the shoulder. “So, thanks for that, bud.”  

You turned and continued walking to Jimin’s classroom, which thankfully was right down the hallway from where your next class was going to be. “Oh my god I almost fell asleep like 20 times, who knew philosophy was so boring?” Jimin whined the second he was out of the classroom, causing you to snicker.  

“Literally everyone, Jiminie,” you smiled as he linked arms with yours as you started slowly walking down the hall to your next subject.  

“You like it,” he shot back as you shrugged.  

“Because I’m boring Jimin, c’mon man, wake up!” You snapped in front of his face as you aggressively told him to wake up, sipping your coffee before he noticed you had a new coffee in your hands.  

“That’s not the same coffee I bought you this morning, Y/n, and did you even eat your donut?” You scoffed.  

“Of course I ate my donut that you so graciously bought me, what kind of a person only drinks coffee all day and has their first meal at 7pm?”  

His expression fell as you turned to face each other outside of your class, his arms now folded across his chest. “You, asshole, that’s why I asked,” Granted, you had thrown the donut away after only having one bite; it was way too sweet too early in the morning. And he most certainly did not have the right to judge you on your coffee habits.  

“Well, new year new me, Jiminie. I'll have you know I'll be eating food along with my ten cups of coffee a day,” you smiled, entering the classroom.  

“Can you at least narrow it down to seven cups?” He followed you to the back of the room, the only acceptable place to sit.  

“Never.”  

- 

After class, Jimin walked you home and then invited himself inside of your quaint apartment, plopping himself down on your couch before you could even finish getting your winter jacket off.  

“So, what’re you going to wear to my party on Friday?” you scowl at him as you kick your shoes off, dropping your bag next to them before you cross your arms, moving over to where he’d occupied a large amount of your sofa before you squeeze in next to him.  

“Who says I’m going to your party?” You retort, Jimin’s smirk never fading from his face.  

“Me,” he spoke proudly, as if he’d just found a loophole in the system that forced you out of your house. He has not.  

“Friday you said?” you ask, narrowing your eyes as he nodded as if in deep thought, pondering your options, before you shook your head and moved your eyes back to meet his. “Sorry, can’t, that cuts into my brooding time. Maybe if it were on a Tuesday–”  

“You’re hilarious, you know?” He asked sarcastically after rolling his eyes. You nod.  

“Duh,” his face softened as he turned to face you, grabbing your hand in the process.  

“Seriously, Y/n, I think you might actually have fun if you come,” he elongated his words as he tugged on your hand slightly, his bottom lip jutted out as he begged. You rolled your eyes, trying to pull your hand back out of his grasp but he wouldn’t let you. “C’mon, babe, I've been trying to not push you, but you seriously need to get laid,” You immediately pull the pillow that you had been resting on out from behind your back before hitting Jimin as hard as you could with it, causing him to let go of you and chuckle, hands hiding his face as you swung a second time before propping the pillow back behind your back.  

“Asshole,” You started, gaining his attention, “You know I’m an emotional bitch that can only sleep with people I’m in love with, we can’t all be sluts,” he chuckled softly at your words, rubbing the arm you hit as if it was a serious wound.  

“Well then you need to go make out with someone or at least, I don’t know, get drunk and relax. I can’t remember the last time you just chilled the fuck out and had fun, ” his face became more somber as he spoke, trying not to sound like he was worried but still wanted you to know that he cared.  

“If you wont come for you then come for me, the only people I hang out with at these things are fuckboys and they’re not near as fun as you. I promise I won’t leave you halfway through the night to be slutty either, I’m all yours if you agree to be my arm candy for the night,” You groaned loudly as he finished his sentence, making him stop because you know he would keep talking if you didn’t stop him.  

“Can we find a new topic of conversation if I agree to think about it?”  

“Only if you agree to think about what you’ll be wearing to the party you’ll definitely be coming to,” he smiled, his round cheeks hiding his eyes as his grin spread across his face. You sighed, sitting back up before grabbing the remote.  

“Fine, I’ll go to your frat party, Jimin. Now, do you want to watch Harry Potter with me or not?” You asked, turning the tv on.  

“Of course, I’ll order the pizza.”  

- 

The week went by much faster than you would’ve liked it to, between working and getting used to the long class hours. You had finished the writing assignment due for your creative writing class on Wednesday; you had always been an overachiever when it came to writing assignments that you had free reign on, so it’s a bit longer than necessary as well, but you figured that would help your grade, if anything.  

You thankfully didn’t have to go into the library this morning, so you were able to get an extra couple of hours of sleep before you decided to walk to campus, seeing as it had snowed last night and it was beautiful outside. You, obviously, picked a hot black coffee on your way, the hot cup warming the fingertips your fingerless gloves neglected before you finally made your way to the large building your lecture was in.  

Having an extra few minutes before your professor would even open the door, you slid your bag off your shoulder and set it down on a bench near the entrance of the building. You opened it, putting your coffee down next to it as you realized opening a zipper is hard to do with one hand, and pulled out your assignment, wanting to be able to hand it to her before you even took your seat.  

You absentmindedly scrolled through your phone for a few minutes before you started to notice a few of your classmates walking in the building. You put your phone away, picked up your things before you went along with them.  

“Ah, Ms. Y/l/n and Mr. Kim, the two paper’s I'm most excited to read,” You turned and realized that Namjoon was right behind you, smile wide as he held his paper out at the same time you did. You both took notice of the fact yours was longer, by at least a few pages, before you both started walking to your seats.  

“Quality over quantity, Y/l/n,” he spoke lowly as he stepped quickly to keep up with you. You smirked.  

“Hmm,” you hummed, taking a sip of your coffee before turning, facing him as he threw his bag down on the table. “Hasn’t anyone told you, Kim? Size always matters,” you turned on your heal and walked up to your seat that overlooked the class, satisfied with the baffled look that was on his face when you left.  

- 

“Okay, I know I'm basically forcing you to come to this party, but that doesn’t mean you can just wear your work clothes,” It was 30 seconds after you had walked into your apartment after taking some overtime in at the library, and Jimin was already in your apartment, drinking a glass of wine with his hand on his hip as he looked at you judgmentally.  

“Did you bring your own wine glass to wait for me in my apartment to get off work so that you can scold me for not being ready 4 seconds after I walk in the door?” You cocked an eyebrow as you cross your arms across your chest, but Jimin only looks at you and nods as if that’s obvious and completely normal. You rolled your eyes as you put your things down, shedding yourself of your winter coat, gloves and hat before you walked past Jimin, taking the glass of wine from his hand and taking a sip as you walked back to your bedroom. “Besides, what’s wrong with looking like a librarian?”  

“We’re going to a frat party, not a book sale,” He scoffs, following you into your room and taking his wine back from you as you open your closet and begin to think, piecing different things together.  

“No shit, Jiminie. You just have to give me a second to get ready,” you pause, pulling a mini skirt out of your closet, looking around to see if there was any way you could pair this with something without freezing your tits off. “If someone drugs my drink it’s entirely your fault for making me look hot,” You pulled out a tight cropped sweater with a zipper down the front, holding them up together to see if they went well together. They did.  

“If someone drugs your drink, I’ll murder them,” he said nonchalantly as you heard him opening your dresser drawer. “And if you’re wearing that, you’ll need these,” He throws a pair of fishnets over the hanger of the top before he begins rifling through your shoes.  

“Well, while you figure out my outfit for me, I’ll go do my makeup,” he merely grunted and waved you off as he set his wine next to him, throwing your converse across the room.  

- 

“You’re going to catch a cold without a jacket, babe,” Jimin walked you out of your apartment and down to the street, where you had to then try to find his car in the snow-covered and cramped parking lot with your arm linked with his. You were now at least a good few centimeters taller than him, your chunky knee-high heels barely giving you enough traction to stay vertical as you walked through the ice.

“That’s what the coffee’s for, Jimin. It makes my heart beat so fast my body temperature never drops below 100 degrees,” you smiled as you walked unaffected by the temperature to his car, which was conveniently parked at the end of the lot. He opened the door for you before racing to the driver’s side and jumped in.  

“Joking about your coffee addiction isn’t making me feel much better about it, Y/n,” you only smiled as he started the car and drove the short distance between your apartment and his house. It was massive. You’ve never been inside, but you’ve seen the outside of it many times. Between Jimin being overprotective of you and you not really liking to party anymore, he just always came over to your place when you wanted to hang out.  

But now as you looked up at the large house that was already blaring music with people pouring into it, you started to get intimidated, almost wishing you’d gone to at least one of these things before so this didn’t seem so daunting.  

Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Jimin had your door open, hand extended to help you get out. You quickly unbuckled yourself and stood, taking Jimin’s arm as you walked up to the house, walking right in the front door into the living room swimming with already drunk people dancing on each other.  

You made your way through the sea of people and found a space between the living room (dance floor) and kitchen (bar) that had fewer individuals.  

“Jimin, why didn’t you tell us you had a foxy girlfriend?” You turned around along with Jimin to see what was probably the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it as his smile spread sweetly across his face. You gave him your hand, to which he turned it up and gently placed a kiss on your knuckles, not letting his eyes leave yours. No wonder he didn’t trust these guys, I would give this man whatever he wanted no questions asked.  

“Because I knew you’d try to take her away from me. You know, like you’re doing now?” Jimin pulled you back slightly by your hips, wrapping a protective arm around you as the handsome one smiled.  

“Not his girlfriend. I’m Y/n,” his eyes widened slightly as he looked back and forth between the two of you.  

“I take it you’re single then, Y/n?” He asks. Jimin tries to step on his foot, but he moves it away quickly, eyes still boring into yours with so much intensity you almost forget how to speak. Almost.  

“That I am,” you smile, ignoring Jimin’s attempts to get you to stop talking.  

“Well you, miss Y/n, are welcome here anytime,”  

“DRINKS, lets go get drinks, Y/n, you must be parched,” Jimin pushed you away from the pretty man giving you attention and into the kitchen where there were alcoholic drinks and mixers scattered over every surface.  

“Which one was that?” You ask as Jimin finally let’s go of you, grabbing a red solo cup from where they’re stacked neatly in the corner.  

“That was Jin, you’re not allowed to date him no matter how good at talking he is. Tequila?” Jimin asks, holding up the bottle he’s already poured a shot from into his own cup.  

“I’ll take a beer, thanks,” Jimin rolled his eyes, grabbing you a beer and uncapping it before he still grabs another solo cup and fills it with a shot.  

“You still have to take a shot with me, it’s for good luck,” he takes the beer from your hand as you sip it and puts it on the counter, shoving the cup in your hand to replace it. He holds out his arm, waiting for you to link yours around it so you can take your shots together. As you roll your eyes and comply, Jin stood at the bottom of the stairs watching you and Jimin before a large hand landed on his back, bringing him back to reality.  

“You didn’t get drunk without me, I hope,” Namjoon smiled as he followed Jin’s gaze. His eyes landed on you, arms linked with Jimin, your curves on full display as you knocked your head back, letting the liquor fall smoothly down your throat before you separated, Jimin wrapping an arm around your back, resting on your hip casually as he filled his cup up once more, this time with much more than a shot. “How the fuck did Jimin pull that ass?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for his older friend to reply.  

“He didn’t. That’s Y/n.” Namjoon's eyes widened as he looked at Jin.  

“Y/n? As in the childhood best friend he never brings around?” Jin nods, looking back over at you. Namjoon thinks for a second before patting Jin’s shoulder again. “Dibs,” He doesn’t wait for him to respond before he makes his way over to you, walking past you to grab a beer before turning again, looking you up and down. You looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.  

“Who's your friend, Jimin?” he spoke, grabbing both you and Jimin's attention as he took a swig of his beer. Jimin sighed.  

“Namjoon, with is Y/n. Y/n, Namjoon–”  

“Oh hey, size doesn’t matter guy! How’s that working out for you?” You smirked widely as you took a small swig of your own beer. Jimin started laughing at your comment, not having any idea of the context but not needing any. Namjoon’s face fell as realization set in.  

“You know, you look a lot different without the baggy hoodie and the coffee cup glued to your hand,” Namjoon smirks as he takes another sip of his beer, now much more intrigued by you.  

“Okay wait, what am I missing here?” Jimin interjected as he finally stopped laughing, trying to figure out how you and his friend know one another.  

“Remember the asshole I told you about from my creative writing class?” your eyes never left Namjoon’s, your head only shifting slightly to the side to face Jimin, who looked at Namjoon with you, mouth open. Namjoon moved his hand over his chest, faking hurt.  

“Asshole? Wow, Y/l/n. That hurts, even from you,” the smug smirk never left his face, nor yours. You shrugged.  

“I’m sure you’ve been called worse. C’mon, Jiminie,” you looked away from Namjoon for the first time since he’d arrived, pulling Jimin and his now very full cup of tequila that you were 90% positive he didn’t add a mixer to. “I wanna dance.”  

- 

“I’m not that drunk, I will be fine,” it was probably somewhere close to 3 in the morning, and you were ready to get out of here and go to bed. Jimin was probably about as drunk as you could be without completely blacking out.  

“You’re not going to walk home or take the subway in the middle of the night looking like that in the dead of winter, getting buried in a pile of snow is a best-case scenario. Just come up to bed with me,” Jimin’s eyes were barely open as he leaned against the front door, trying his best to look stable by relying all his weight onto something to hold him up.  

“I don’t want to put you out, plus you live with like 20 dudes, several of whom tried to grab my ass at some point,” He pushed himself off the door, putting both his hands on your shoulders before he turned you around and pushed you toward the stairs, now relying on you to remain upright.  

“Then I’ll lock the door. I won’t be responsible for your death and I’m too tired to worry about you,” You rolled your eyes as you accepted defeat, helping Jimin up the stairs and into his bedroom at the end of the hall. He made sure he locked the door after you both got in the room. He hastily peeled off his shirt and threw it on the floor before falling onto his bed face first.  

You pulled off your shoes, your feet thanking you as they felt flat ground again. You pulled down your skirt and fishnets, leaving them on his dresser before you slid under the covers beside Jimin, who instinctively wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into him, nuzzling himself into your neck as you both drifted off to sleep comfortably in each other’s embrace.  

- 

It truly was a good thing you worked in a library, because on days you were hungover the quietness of it all made your head hurt less as you readjusted back to normalcy. Not that you were hungover often, especially at work, but on days you were, you knew it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as it was when you worked in a McDonalds.  

You finished putting away yesterday's returns and walked back up to your desk, stopping the cart beside you as you sat down, drinking your hot coffee, begging the caffeine to take away your headache.  

“Was that you I saw sneaking out of my house at seven in the morning?” You looked up from a pile of paperwork to see Namjoon with a wide smirk on his face and a book tucked under his arm as he strolled up to your desk. You looked back down at the papers on your desk that seemed to be multiplying, words evading your vision as you tried to read them.  

“I wasn’t sneaking, I just didn’t want to wake anyone,” he dropped the book down in front of you, leaning his elbows on the taller portion of the desk as you scanned over the book. The Forgotten Fire by Adam Bagdasarian. Interesting book for a frat boy.  

“Whose room were you coming out of?” You wrote the title of the book down on the sign out log, before inputting the same information into the computer.  

“Why don’t you ask your buddies, I’m sure whoever it was would love to brag about the encounter,” You wrote the date on a card and put it back into the book.  

“Ah, did you get burned, Y/l/n?” You ignored his question, handing him back his book, your sarcastic customer service smile taking over.

 “It’s due back in two weeks,” You extend your hand with the book in it cover pointed out to face him as he glances down at it, smug smile still playing on his lips before he takes it from your hand. You let your gaze fall back to your desk as you continued to look over your papers.  

“See you then, Y/l/n, try not to miss me too much,”  

“Only in your wet dreams, Kim,” your comment conned a genuine smile out of him as he walked out the door to the library. He didn’t know why, but Namjoon needed to know who you were with, and you gave him a pretty good suggestion. He made it not even 10 steps away from the building before he pulled out his phone, opening the group chat that all the members of his frat were in.  

Namjoon slid his phone back in his pocket before he could read Yoongi’s complaints.

No one had ever really stood up to him, especially when it came to his intelligence. Namjoon had prided himself on being the smartest person back in his high school, and even while he knew he had no hope of being the smartest person in the college, he’d at least hoped to be smarter than most of the people he came across.  

When he saw you walking on campus on the first day of class, he thought he might try his luck at flirting with you. While he didn’t think you seemed to be the most attractive based of the over-sized sweater and hair definitely not done, but you were the shy one. Face red as you spoke allowed about your poem is a self-deprecating manner, sitting as far away from others as possible. You kept away from people for the entirety of class, and then walked by yourself to get a coffee.  

You seemed easy. He’d tease you before throwing a compliment or two at your feet, and you’d be all over him. Instead, he got to the teasing part, and you’d shot back at him. You’d shot back good. He didn’t even know how to respond, so he didn’t. That’s when he decided it’d be fun to have a little rivalry with you. You didn’t talk unless someone spoke to you, but God when you did speak? It’s never something he’s expecting; and he can’t get enough.  

He hated losing, and you were the only competition he’d have this semester, all his other classes seemed to go by like a breeze. But your confidence alone would make you the most fun person to go up against.  

Then he saw you at the party – saw what you could really look like if you put effort into yourself and knew the feud he’d started with you was probably going to be the hardest one he’d have to overcome. 

There were two ways he could win: Get better grades, get better at comebacks, and prove that he was the smartest.  

Or 

He could ruin you.  

He’d never seen you at any parties before, so the likelihood of you being someone who liked to sleep around was low. That, and the fact Jimin wouldn’t even let you come to meet them meant he didn’t trust you around them; scared they’d break your heart or try to. So, you were probably emotional when it came to sex. If he could get you under him, he’d always come out on top.

Note: I TOLD YOU NAMJOON WAS TOXIC BUT I PROMISE IT'S NOT PERMANENT

[taehyungsgrowl]

Ok you’ve got me on a roll now with college fuckboy jim so.. concept:

Jim leaves a party with 2 girls including reader (all 3 drunk and high out of their minds) and start having sex in his dorm 😺

BI!ROOMMATE!DUNCAN!! Comes back from the same party an hour later and sees everything happen and immediately gets a little excited bc of his long term crushes on reader AND jimmy 👀😩 he joins in blah blah blah the end

orgy in jimmys room ckjsdfh

BI!ROOMMATE!DUNCAN SHUT UP

(shy!bi!roommate!duncan 🥺👉👈)

please... omg he gets a little flustered 😳stammering sorries as he tries to make his way out of the dorm...

but sweaty jim... with his brown curls sticking to his forehead... two different pairs of lips on his neck... two different girls on either side of him... stripped down to their underwear... yn with her hand in jims underwear... feeling him grow harder when his eyes lock with duncans...

"party is just getting started, shepherd..." he'd call duncan over... maybe he grabs yn by the throat, kissing her harshly... "why dont you show duncan how sweet you two can be, hm?"

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong? (Michael Langdon X Reader)

SO! a couple months ago, @langdonsrapture and i had some... interesting conversations about stepdad duncan and stepbrother michael, and i ended up agreeing that i’d write a stepbro michael fic if she wrote a stepdad duncan fic. and she wrote her stepdad duncan fic, so..... i present to you, STEPBROTHER MICHAEL! i am so sorry for this foolishness.... (also, this is going to be a multi part series!!) 

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships (I MEAN OBVIOUSLY), fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, drug mentions, alcohol mentions, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk 

word count: 6k 

tagging some people i think might be interested: @langdonsrapture @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @americanhorrorstudies @sodanova @alicecooper19 @ccodyfern @starwlkers @duncvn @xtheinevitableprophecyx

i.

The summer before your senior year of high school, your life was abruptly separated into two parts: before Michael Langdon, and after Michael Langdon. Up until then, your life had been peaceful- maybe a little boring, mundane, but peaceful all the same. You’d had a painfully average life with painfully average grades and a painfully average social life, but there was nothing to complain about, living in your modest high-ranch with your father in the middle of the suburbs.

And then your father met Miriam Mead Langdon, a slightly eccentric but nice-enough woman who oftentimes frequented the same grocery store he did. You hadn’t had a problem with Miriam; you were pleased to see your father happy after having been single for so long, ever since your mother passed away years before. No, you didn’t have a problem with Miriam- it was her son, Michael, that you couldn’t fucking stand.

Michael Langdon was everything you hated- cocky, rude, a smart-ass, spoiled. Everyone who met him seemed to fall under his spell, charmed by his smooth talking and boyish good looks, and so he always seemed to get whatever he wanted. There was no question of whether he was attractive, with soft waves of blond hair and admittedly beautiful baby blue eyes, paired with plump pink lips that always seemed to be curled into an infuriating smirk. Girls swooned over him, including your own friends (which you’d gagged over), and boys fought for his approval and friendship. It was beyond nauseating.

When your father had announced that he and Miriam were engaged, you’d been forced to swallow your distaste for the boy who, soon enough, would be your stepbrother. In June they were married, and soon afterwards, Miriam and Michael moved into your father’s home. Michael got the once-vacant guest room down the hall from your bedroom, and within a few days it had become an entirely new place; he’d plastered the walls with posters, depicting everything from horror movies to half-naked girls to metal bands. The top of his dresser was strewn with random things he’d thrown there: an empty Jack Daniels bottle, AXE body spray (because of course), an enormous glass-blown bong, a half-empty pack of Marlboro Reds, designer sunglasses. The entire room reeked of weed, sometimes drifting down the hall and into your room, but for some reason your father never mentioned it (which you were sure he would, had it been you who was stinking up the house and not Michael).

That entire summer, you were forced to witness Michael getting away with things you could never dream to: sneaking in girls at all hours of the night (no headphones were good enough to block out the scarring noises that left his room on these occasions), stealing your father’s expensive liquor from the glass-paneled cabinets, leaving the house at 1 am and coming back home after sunrise. It seemed that he was able to talk himself out of anything, and if you didn’t hate him so much, you might have even said you envied him a little.

The only upside was that you were graduating high school this year; the both of you would be off to college in the fall, and then you’d never have to see his stupid, smug face again. Or, at least, almost never.

That thought was the only thing that kept you from losing grip on your sanity; like a prayer, you’d tell yourself: only a few more months.

ii.

“Michael, I don’t know why you’re being so difficult. Just take your sister to school.” The even voice of Miriam filled your kitchen as you glared at Michael, who was slumped over a bowl of cereal- your cereal- at the kitchen table.

“My sister?” he repeated through a mouthful of corn flakes. You gagged dramatically, hoping the gesture caught his eye. “You guys got married not even four months ago and now I’m suddenly expected to act like she’s my blood relative?”

You rolled your eyes, frowning when he reached for the cereal box.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you muttered, grabbing the box away before he could take more from it.

“Michael,” said Miriam, her voice tinged with warning, but you knew she wasn’t actually going to do anything. Not to Michael, her precious, perfect baby boy who apparently could do not wrong. “You’re going to the same place. It only makes sense for you to drive her.”

“Whatever,” he griped, standing up to grab his backpack off the counter without bothering to put his dish away. Just as you’d expected, Miriam took his bowl and placed it in the sink without a word. “C’mon.”

You followed him to the front door, watching as he retrieved his ring of keys from the back pocket of his black skinny jeans.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get a ride with (best friend’s name),” he said irritably.

“Because we’re no longer speaking, that’s why.”

“Is it because of-“ he paused, flashing you a shit-eating grin, cocking one eyebrow at you knowingly. Dickhead.

“What do you think?”

“Aww, come on, you’re still mad about that?” he chuckled, pulling his sunglasses off the front of his shirt and sliding them on.

“Yes.” You trailed behind Michael onto the porch, slamming the door behind you loudly. He dug his thumb into a button on his keys, and on cue his sports car- because of fucking course he had a sports car- let out its usual cheery beep as it unlocked.

“You mind getting in the back?” he asked you, tossing his keys up into the air idly and catching them before opening the driver side door.

You scoffed. “Um, yes, I mind?” You opened the passenger door defiantly to find the leather seat strewn with CDs, food wrappers, a math textbook which you highly doubted he used, and- you wrinkled your nose- was that a box of fucking condoms? Yep, condoms, Magnum XL with added lubrication (you seriously regretted taking the time to read the box).

“Ew, Michael,” you said, snatching up the box before tossing it into the back as though you might contract a deadly disease if you touched it for too long. “Very discreet.”

“What, was that the wittle virgin’s first time seeing condoms in real life?” he teased, slipping into the front seat and turning the key in ignition. You picked up as much of his junk as you could before throwing it haphazardly into the back, earning a wince from Michael.

“Not that I have anything to prove to you, but I’m not a virgin,” you lied.

“Riiiight.” He switched on the radio, screwing up his face indecisively as he flipped through the stations.

“No, seriously,” you said, getting in the passenger’s seat and shutting the car door. You considered putting on your seatbelt, but thought that might be something Michael would tease you about, so you refrained.

Why did you even care what he thought?

“Okay, then, who’d you do it with?” he said, reaching into the glove compartment to retrieve a crushed pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and stuck it between his teeth, rotating his body as he searched the floor of the car for a lighter.

Your lips turned down in disgust. “Can you not do that right now?”

“Uh, it’s my car,” he snapped, and you retreated. He found a lighter, flicking it on and off presumably to test if there was any fluid left, and then he lit his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke unfurl from his nose, before his face lit up once more with a mischievous grin. “Oh right. Who was it that you had sex with, again?”

You pressed your lips together, annoyed that he’d remembered. “You don’t know him.”

You couldn’t see his eyes due to the fact that they were covered with tinted lenses, but you were sure he’d narrowed them suspiciously in your direction at this. It was so obvious that you were full of shit, and you knew it. “I know pretty much everyone who goes to our school.”

“He doesn’t go to our school.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced, but you were grateful when he didn’t press on further. He rolled down the window, bringing the cigarette to his plump lips as he backed out of the driveway, hardly bothering to glance over his shoulders. You weren’t entirely sure how he hadn’t been in a car accident yet. Probably just dumb luck, which Michael always seemed to have an abundance of.

You stared out the window for a while, arms crossed in front of your chest as you attempted to avoid the smoke that Michael made no effort to shield you from. The morning sun shone through the window and bounced off Michael’s effortless mop of blond waves, just slightly overgrown, which he’d attempted to neaten with the smallest hint of hair gel.

He looked like something from a movie, you decided, with his leather jacket and laid-back stance, reclined against the back of the seat with one hand resting on the wheel. You couldn’t help but notice his sharp, angular jawline, clenching slightly as he craned his neck to look at the road, and for a moment you almost caught yourself… admiring him.

You shuddered. Absolutely fucking not.

You were halfway to school when Michael decided to break the silence. “So you and (b/f/n) are really done being friends?”

“I mean, I very clearly asked her not to fuck my brother and she did anyway, so yes, really.”  

You saw the vaguest hint of a smirk play at the corners of his lips, his stump of a cigarette dangling out from between them, and you fought back the urge to backhand him.

“So since you’re no longer friends,” he said, putting his cigarette out on the steering wheel and discarding it outside, “you won’t have a problem with us fucking again, then?”

Of fucking course. You should’ve known better than to believe he actually had any sort of interest in what went on in your life.

“I hate you so fucking much,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said, seeming pretty pleased with himself. Why the fuck did your father have to choose the mother of the worst goddamn person in the world to get married to?

Michael pulled up to the school and into his front-and-center reserved parking space, which he’d allegedly won year-round access to in some kind of charity raffle (though you had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that every staff member at the school was practically up his ass and gave him whatever he wanted). Pulling the blinder down and sliding open the attached mirror, he examined his reflection for an unsettlingly long period of time before turning to you.

“Do you mind, like, not speaking to me when we get out of the car?”

You let out a huff as you stormed outside, swinging your backpack over your shoulders with exaggerated motions that you hoped were noticeable. Then, still not entirely satisfied, you flipped him the middle finger. From the driver’s seat, still entirely calm and composed, he laughed.

God, you hated him.

iii.

How you’d wound up getting a date with one of Michael’s fuckboy friends was beyond you.

You’d been stranded at school, because of course Michael had ditched you after you’d made him wait all of thirty seconds after the final bell sounded. Next thing you knew, a boy, whom you recognized as one of Michael’s friends, approached you as you wandered aimlessly by the front of the school- you’d exchanged the expected pleasantries (oh, you’re Michael’s sister, right? he’d asked, even though it wasn’t even a question, considering he was at your house almost every weekend) before he’d offered you a ride home, which you’d accepted perhaps against your better judgement.

On the drive home you’d made surprisingly easy conversation, and when he finally pulled up in front of your house, he stopped you before you got out of the car.

“I’d love to take you out sometime,” he’d said sweetly. “How about this weekend?”

Apprehensive as you were, you realized what a prime opportunity this would be to get Michael back. Also, he was pretty damn cute, with prominent dimples and curly brown hair and tanned skin. So you’d accepted the offer, and subsequently arranged for him to pick you up at 8:00 that Friday.

You couldn’t wait for Michael to find out.

iv.

“So how was school?” asked Miriam, shoveling a pile of mashed potatoes onto her plate with an unnaturally friendly grin plastered across her face. You always dreaded family dinners- the forced conversation, the fact that you had to pretend to get along with Michael, the awkward periods of silence as everyone quietly chewed on their food. To you, it was a nightmare, but your father insisted on having “quality family time” every night of the week, and so everyone was expected to be around the kitchen table at 6:00 sharp, no exceptions.

Even Michael wasn’t able to get out of the dinners; he’d attempted every excuse in the book, but your father had refused to let up. Tonight Michael had claimed that he had plans to study at the library- an obvious lie, even to your father, who truly thought Michael was some kind of golden boy; you’d reveled in the dejected look on his face as he’d grudgingly sat down across from you, unable to get his way for once in his charmed life.

“Fine,” you and Michael said in unison, responding to Miriam’s question.

“You kids always say that,” said your father. “Did anything interesting happen? Come on, there has to be more than one word to describe how your day went!”

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing up to see if Michael was paying attention; it didn’t appear that he was, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow settled on the edge of the table as he twirled and un-twirled his spaghetti on the end of his fork. You decided to proceed anyway. “I actually got asked out on a date.”

Michael’s head shot up to look at you, eyes wide. “No way. By who?”

You scowled at him. “None of your business.”

“It’s one of my friends, isn’t it?” He seemed pissed, perhaps a bit more pissed than you’d expected, and you were curious as to why he even cared so much.

“Maybe,” you said coyly, taking a sip of water. This was even more satisfying than you thought it would be, getting under his skin, and you made a mental note to try and piss him off more often.

“A date?” your father said, eyebrows furrowed in a stern expression. You weren’t exactly the most popular with boys, and so he wasn’t yet used to the prospect of his baby girl being taken out.

“Mhm,” you said, meeting your gaze with Michael’s and flashing him a barely-detectable wink. Goddamn, did it feel good to finally have the upper hand.

“Well, that’s exciting,” said Miriam. “He’s a very lucky guy.”

Michael still appeared to be beside himself. “Which friend was it? Was it Jacob? Matthew? Chris?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious,” he said, balling his fists up on either side of his plate so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Okay, what the hell was his problem?

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to run around with my friends as much as you want, but if I wanna have fun and go out with one of your friends, it’s not allowed? Grow up, dickhead.”

“Language,” scolded your father. You ignored him.

Michael’s nostrils flared, and for a fleeting second, you almost thought he looked cute, all riled up and angry like this. The second the thought crossed your mind, you shuddered, willing it away as quickly as it had come.

“This is different,” said Michael, giving you a pointed look that said, you know what I’m talking about but I can’t say it right now because our parents are sitting right here.

Still, you weren’t actually sure you did know what he was talking about.

“No, it’s not. You’re just mad that someone’s finally giving you a taste of your own medicine,” you spat, abruptly jumping to your feet and picking up your half-full plate of food. “I have homework to do,” you said to your father, not giving him a chance to protest as you hurried over to the sink and dropped your plate in.

/

You’d just gotten settled on your bed when Michael barged into your room, startling you as he burst through the door without warning.

“You know he’s gonna try and fuck you, right?” was the first thing he said, somewhat smug as he leant against the doorframe to look at you.

“You don’t even know who I’m going out with,” you said as dismissively as you could manage, barely looking up from the Youtube video you were watching.

“If it’s one of my friends, he’s gonna try to fuck you, believe me.” He waited for you to react, and when you didn’t, he let out a condescending snort. “Have fun explaining to him that you’re a big fucking virgin.”

This caught your attention, and you averted your eyes up to your stepbrother, his hair just starting to fall from its hold, soft curls clinging to his forehead and neck. He looked so much more innocent like this- sweet, even, dressed in his plaid flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt rather than his usual all-black ensemble. He had one toned arm hooked in front of his chest, long fingers wrapped around the bicep of his opposite arm, his muscles rippling slightly with each movement of his upper body. You licked your lips, mouth suddenly going dry.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked him sincerely, as if he might decide to drop his act and actually explain to you what was upsetting him.

“I don’t have a problem. You know, excuse me for looking out for my little sister.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms for added emphasis, slumping his shoulders dramatically.

At this, you laughed, full and genuine. What a load of shit.

“First of all, Michael, I’m a month younger than you. And second of all, we both know you don’t give a fuck about me. So cut the shit.”

He sneered. “Whatever. I hope you like getting fucked and dumped.”

With that, he turned on his heels, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway and leaving you alone and, quite frankly, confused.

v.

You were in the midst of straightening your hair on Friday night when someone began pounding urgently on the bathroom door. You didn’t have to see the person on the other side, though, to know exactly who it was.

“What do you want, Michael?” You eased the iron down on a chunk of your hair, taking extra precaution not to accidentally burn yourself.

“You’ve been in there long enough,” he said, voice muffled by the barrier of the door. “I need to shower.”

“You showered this morning, dumbass,” you said, setting down the straightener for a moment to apply some eyeliner along the band of your upper eyelashes. You weren’t exactly well-versed in the art of makeup, but considering tonight was the night of your first real date, you’d decided to do some experimenting with the little makeup you owned.

“I have to pee,” he pressed on. You had been in the bathroom for a long time, enjoying yourself as you got ready and listened to music in only your underwear, but in all honesty you were having fun pissing Michael off.

“Too bad.” You brushed some light pink blush onto your cheeks, leveling your head back and forth in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too much.

There was a scraping noise as the door swung open- that lock had always been faulty. Your arms flew up to your nearly-exposed chest, and your face bloomed deep red as Michael’s pale eyes dropped downwards towards the smooth expanse of your chest. His mouth fell agape before he shut it again, taking a step back, and you could’ve sworn that he, too, was blushing. Or at least it looked that way. It could be the crappy bathroom lighting, you supposed.

He quickly composed himself, poising an eyebrow at you.

“You own a matching bra and underwear set?” he mused.

You shifted, wishing he would just fuck off already, all at once feeling very insecure in your pale pink set that you’d purchased on sale at Victoria’s Secret a few days before. It was your first ever “nice” set of lingerie, and even though you weren’t necessarily planning for anything sexual to happen on your date, you’d thought that tonight would be the perfect occasion to wear it.

“Uh, yeah?” you said, hoping you came off as nonchalant as possible.

“Did you buy that just for tonight?” he asked you with a mocking twinge to his voice, eyes flashing venomously. Your skin prickled in embarrassment, and you looked away.

“No,” you said, picking up the hair straighter again and clamping it around another section of your hair.

“Aww, is tonight the night? Finally getting rid of that v-card?” You focused on your reflection, knowing that the cocky expression no doubt plastered across his face would only serve in making your blood boil.

“Will you just fuck off?” You shoved his firm chest with your free hand, hardly stirring him at all. He snickered, lips twitching at your attempt at being assertive.

“Have fun tonight,” he said in a singsong tone. “But just don’t expect some kind of amazing romantic experience. He’ll probably never call you again once he blows his load inside you.”

Before you could retaliate, he slammed the door shut, and you could hear him laughing to himself as he retreated to his bedroom down the hall. You could still smell his cologne, lingering in the air, even once he was gone.

All at once, a pit formed in your stomach.

vi.

The date was fine, until it wasn’t anymore.

Michael’s friend had arrived at 8:00 on the dot, wasting no time before he began showering you with compliments- he’d remarked that you smelled amazing, making a point to bring his face close to your neck and inhale deeply, which you’d giggled in response to. He’d gushed over how well your maroon sweater flattered your skin tone, eyes just barely ghosting over your cleavage.

First he’d taken you to a diner. Nothing fancy, but you still appreciated the gesture all the same. Over pancakes you’d discussed your plans for after high school, among other things, and you’d been pleased to find how well you both got along.

After dinner was when things had gone downhill. Instead of driving to the local bowling alley, like he’d told you he would, you’d both somehow ended up on the other side of town, parked outside of an abandoned supermarket.

Here we fucking go, you thought to yourself as he shut off the car and stared at you expectantly.

“So,” he said lowly, leaning in towards you while one hand slipped down the side of your seat, pushing down the lever to recline the back. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I thought we were going bowling,” you deadpanned. Perhaps you might have considered doing something sexual with the boy, had he not pulled some shit like this, but now there wasn’t a fucking chance.

“Mmm,” he said, and you cringed at his attempt at sounding sexy as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. “I think I know a different game we can play.”

You lifted your shoulders up, the suddenness of your motions jerking his head back. “I think you need to take me home.”

He knit his brows, face falling, as he sat upright again. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Very much so,” you retorted, folding your arms in front of you.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

“And you’re a colossal fucking douchebag.”

You hated that Michael had been right about something, and you most certainly weren’t looking forward to explaining what had happened when you arrived home. You felt stupid, naive, but knew you had nobody to blame but yourself. Your heart sank- there was no way Michael would ever let you live this down.

The drive home was completely silent, and the boy didn’t wait for you to get inside before he sped off into the night. Not that you’d expected him to, after he’d revealed himself to be such a complete and utter fuckboy.

It was barely 9:30 when you arrived through the front door, trying your best to make as little noise as possible so as not to alert anyone of your arrival. The second you’d shut the door behind you, the first tear fell- you hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of crying, but now tears were flowing freely down your cheeks. You wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeve, inadvertently staining the fabric with eyeliner, and you let out a second choked sob at the sight.

You reached down to take off your boots, creeping up the stairs with as much stealth as you could muster. The last thing you wanted right now was for Michael to approach you, especially not while you were vulnerable like this.

Sniffling gently, you padded across the wood flooring to your bedroom, gritting your teeth in concentration as you tiptoed past Michael’s room. Your fingers had just barely brushed your doorknob, however, when you heard Michael’s voice behind you.

“Back already?”

You nearly had a heart attack right then, crying out when his voice cut brashly through the silence. You whipped around, no longer worried about preserving your pride, tear-filled eyes squinted in frustration.

“Yep, I’m back. And before you ask, yes, you were right. He was a fucking asshole. Go ahead and laugh, I don’t give a shit.”

He seemed surprised, the amused look on his face faltering ever-so-slightly. “Told you so.”

He tilted his head, leaning his weight onto his shoulder which rested against the doorframe. It appeared like he wanted to say something else, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You know, uh, you might feel better if you smoked some weed.” He pointed over his shoulder into his room. For a moment, you were speechless. Was he—inviting you to hang out with him? “I have some good shit. If you wanna smoke some with me.”

You blinked in disbelief. Was this some sort of sick joke? Something about the way he looked at you, though, told you that he was being serious. Giving him a weak half-smile, you patted away the remainder of your tears with the edge of your sleeve.

“You know what? I think I will.”

vii.

Lying on your back, you watched Michael’s color lamp fade from color to color with bated breath, entranced with the hazy display. The world was so much more beautiful like this, you thought, vision blurred around the edges with a soft glow.

You’d never been high before, but after taking one hit from Michael’s bong (and getting laughed at for coughing so hard), you were gone. Michael was just as stoned as you were, his bloodshot eyes drooping at the corners, lying next to you with his hands folded over his chest.

It was probably the first time the two of you had ever gotten along. You’d talked for what felt like hours- about what, you could hardly remember, but your stomach muscles ached from how hard you’d been laughing all night. Maybe Michael isn’t such a dick, after all, you’d thought in passing.

You turned your head over to Michael, whose porcelain skin was bright pink from the light of the color lamp, and without thinking you reached out and touched his cheek.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile, full lips curving upwards on one side, voice raspy and thick.

“Your face is pink.”

“So’s yours.”

You both stared at each other before erupting into hysterics, and then, out of nowhere, Michael’s lips were planted hard against yours. It happened so unexpectedly that it took you a moment to register what had happened, but your lips had already begun to move fluidly against his before the thought processed in your mind.

You whimpered, grasping at the front of his t-shirt and twisting the fabric in your palms, his tongue sliding past your teeth and into your mouth. You could taste his favorite cinnamon gum, the flavor melding seamlessly with that of stale cigarettes, and your breath hitched as he rolled on top of you, propping himself up with his arms on either side of you.

You panted breathlessly beneath him, lifting your hand to the back of his neck and pulling him back down towards you. You craned your neck to meet your lips with his again, your teeth clashing noisily as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled away, a silvery string of spit stretched between your mouths.

What the fuck was happening?

“I knew it,” he mumbled against your jaw, sending vibrations through your body and straight to your cunt.

“Knew what?” You writhed as his torso pushed against yours, feeling the hard protrusion in the front of his flannel pants against your thigh.

“That you’re a virgin. You can’t even kiss properly.”

You gaped at him, heart racing when he brought one hand to wander underneath your sweater, gripping your right breast roughly. You mewled at the possessiveness of his touch, sinking your teeth into your lower lip, and he smirked.

“So sensitive,” he remarked. He pulled down the cups of your bra and tweaked your nipple before massaging it roughly with his thumb, earning him a breathy moan from the back of your throat. “Mm, you like having your big brother touch you, baby?”

You nodded fervently, the ache of your cunt intensifying now, his head moving to the crook of your neck to plant sloppy kisses along your throat. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? What you touch yourself thinking about, late at night when you think nobody can hear you.”

Your eyes widened, gasping slightly when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking a bruise onto the tender stretch of skin. He brought his hand out from under your shirt, running his fingertips along your bottom lip, and obediently you opened up for him.

He slid two of his fingers into your mouth and over your warm tongue, pressing down as he gathered your saliva on the calloused skin. He bit down slightly on your neck before swiping his tongue over the freshly-formed hickey, relieving you of the small bit of pain he’d caused.

“M-michael,” you whined, once he’d pulled his fingers from your mouth. He shifted himself so he was resting on his side beside you, bringing his wet fingers down to your pelvis and undoing the button of your jeans.

“You want your big bro to make you cum on his fingers? Hm?”

The vulgarity of your words sent a fresh wave of arousal between your thighs, and you groaned.

“Hm?” he repeated, moving his hand from the waistband of your jeans to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“God, yes,” you breathed. At this point, you were too far gone to think about how goddamn wrong this was. You’d never felt this way before, never been so turned on, and there was nothing in the world that could make you want to stop now.

He exhaled sharply in what sounded like a slight chuckle, and he returned his hand to the zipper of your jeans, pulling it down and shoving his hand into your underwear in one swift motion. You melted at the feeling of his damp fingers moving down the smooth layer of hair along your pubic bone, forming small circles over your clit once he reached it.

“Fuck-“ you exclaimed; all his experience with girls must’ve really paid off, because he knew what he was doing- carefully he pulled back your hood, exposing your pulsing clit, and with his middle finger he tapped lazy patterns on the bud.

Your stomach clenched as he dragged his fingers along your slit, spreading the abundant wetness there and sending shivers down your spine. Parting your lips, he pressed one finger to your entrance experimentally, kissing your shoulder almost comfortingly as he eased it inside.

“So fucking tight,” he rasped, sinking his finger further inside you with a lewd squelching sound. It was your first time being penetrated, and it burned as you felt your walls being stretched out, but within seconds the discomfort was overtaken with pleasure. “My little sis is so wet for me.”

He began pumping in and out steadily, your hips rocking against his hand instinctively, and it wasn’t long before he added a second finger; your jaw unhinged at the intrusion, your thighs spreading further to welcome him inside.

“Michael,” you moaned, eyes rolling back when he quickened his pace, repositioning himself so he could thumb your clit with his free hand. He tilted his head up, biting your swollen lower lip and pulling it towards him, toying with your clit so intensely that it was almost too much.

“You wanna cum, baby?” His hot breath warmed your cheek and desperately you bobbed your head up and down.

He slipped his hand out from between your legs, resulting in a disappointed groan passing your lips. Taking hold of the denim material clinging to your hips, he worked down your jeans and tugged them off, leaving you in only the pale pink lacy thong he’d seen you in earlier.

It was crazy, really, how drastically things had changed in a matter of a few hours.

He crawled down the bed and nestled himself between your legs, spreading them once he’d removed the thin scrap of fabric that was your underwear. You were overtaken with goosebumps as the air hit your throbbing core, his lips brushing teasingly over your inner thighs. You bucked your hips up and he snickered, pushing your pelvis back down on the mattress with one hand.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he purred.

You would’ve shot him a look of distaste, had you not been so worked up.

Slowly, he dragged his tongue up your slit, your hand immediately flying down to tightly grasp at his mess of curls. He glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes, eyes heavy-lidded from both lust and the THC in his system.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he said, swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit. You twitched, tugging at the root of his hair perhaps a bit too hard, grinding your hips up against his face. Latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, he sucked ruthlessly, sliding two fingers past your entrance for a second time and thrusting them deep.

“That’s it, cum for your big brother.” His words reverberated against your cunt and you cried out, threading his soft hair between your fingers.

He applied even more suction to your clit, turning his fingers inside you and curling them expertly to brush against your spongey inner walls.

It didn’t take much more of this for you to cum, the coil in your stomach snapping without warning. You cried out in ecstasy, your narrow walls tightening around his slender fingers, abdomen tightening as your orgasm flooded throughout your trembling body.

He didn’t stop until you fell back limply into his pillows, chest rising and falling and eyelids fluttering. Finally he pulled away, wiping your juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, a devious grin situated across his lips.

“And to think, all this time I thought you hated me.”

All you could do was roll your eyes.

[eurolifeau]

EUROLIFE MASTERPOST

SEASON ONE

On a Sunday (Pilot part I)

Alfred moves in and meets his new neighbour Mikolas. He agrees to join Mikolas’ friends that evening, but they don’t know who Alfred really is. The Rybak family just arrived from a trip back home. Now that Elina’s going back to her workaholic habits, Alexander is trying to get some responsability off her shoulders. But it will really be the right decision? Also, Alekseev is attending Eliot’s party with an exciting guest.

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Fire of Love (Pilot part II)

Elina is having some medical issues that is leaving the Rybak family a little bit concerned. Will they see the bright side of it? Émilie and Jean-Karl test their parenting skills babysitting Zena and Alekseev for a while. Start of college is approaching and that means that the Lake Malawi household is reuniting. They said that Antonín has a new girlfriend and has settled down, but things aren’t always as it seems.

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Oniro Mou (My dream)

Sarah dropped out of school a while ago with one objective: getting into the modeling industry. Will she get what she want before money finally runs out? With his Dad out of the town, Michela’s self esteem starts to crumble as his mother’s comments are more and more noticeable. As Tulia is admited as the Superior Mother, she has to look after a special group of nuns arriving to Villa Europa.

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Wake Up

Eliot is throwing a party to celebrate back to school. He doesn’t expect that many things happening in one night, involving Miki. After moving in with his mother again, Michael feels like he has fallen too deep. He has to find the way out before he starts drowning and be able to save his daughter as well.

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Forever

Alekseev finds himself between the sword and the wall when certain events involving his little sister and his friends happen. Jean-Karl and Émilie are trying to start a family too hard, that Émilie’s stress is testing Jean-Karl’s patience. Victor Crone is in town for a quick singing class and there’s only one person who doesn’t like this decision: Alexander.

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She Got Me

Luca might seem like a fuckboy (he really is), but has been fancying Eleni since she opened her beauty salon. He will do whatever to get into her bedsheets, but Eleni’s a hard bone. Will Luca reach unpleasant extremes to get what he wants? Eliot comes back to La Venda and this time, Miki isn’t happy about it.

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Together

While Ryan is watching his love interest get married, Cláudia tries to cheer him up by setting him a date with another guy. Mariam starts her theatre classes and Michael is there to support her, but that’s not the only reason he’s there.

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Beautiful Mess

Michela is getting more and more scared on her eating habits, alarming Alekseev. Alfred tries to compose a song for the first time he has arrived to Villa Europa. Albert is having a hard try in his economy class and Jeroným proposes something not very legal.

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Replay

Eleni’s little sister is in town, causing some trouble between the young men. Conviniently, Luca is also in the middle of the problem. Since Blanche has a boyfriend, Zena feels more isolated as her friend slowly distances rom her. She makes new friendships here and there, and maybe they will help her realise what is happening in reality. Michael gets the guts to ask Ester on a date.

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Lie To Me

Suprising love triangle strikes Mikolas, even when he thought he was over his ex. Émilie and Jean-Karl are again challenged by her strange pregnancy cravings. The Lake Malawi household is having a hard time fixing the lights and the housekeeper won’t do anything about it.

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Dancing In The Rain

Things are going wild in the Saint Lukas Meijer convent. There’s this particular group of nuns that are trying to make from humanitarian work a better world, but don’t think they have an easy journey. Cláudia and Ryan are trying to think a way to tell Duncan to not get married, but Ryan doesn’t want it to affect their relatioship more that it already has.

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When We’re Old

Michela’s relationship with food is getting weaker and weaker, ending up in an emotional breakdown. Kate is trying to get some inspiration for her new clothing line, but her mind is blocked. Sarah thinks it’s better to take a break and have a “Girls night”. Alexander isn’t a very good friend of the English Literature teacher, and things get hostile in Mrs. Lorenzo Babyshower.

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Your Song

While things seem to go relatively well for Alfred, an unexpected visitor appears. But, Mikolas has a plan to start Alfred’s career again. Ryan’s and Duncan’s paths may reconnect again. Émelie is ready to give birth. Miki and Eliot have to sort out things, and Michela and Alekseev story may not have a happy end. Michael and his family might have new opportunities.

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Our Songs (EXTRA EPISODE)

A deep look through Alfred’s songs for his new album 1016.

BARCELONA  WONDER  1016  LONDRES  MADRID  LA CIUDAD  ET VULL VEURE  HIMNO DEL PRAT

Goodbye (EXTRA EPISODE)

Sergey returns to Russia after recieving a concerning call from Polina.

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SEASON TWO

Fuego (Fire)

Eleni is always saying she doesn’t want anything serious, but she may be lying to herself since Nicolas. Benjamin throws a massive party in his house, but Zena remembers the night he sneaked in her room and can’t stop thinking about it. Sergey comes back from his trip to Moscow and brings home a new villager.

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This is the night

Kurt visits for the first time his sister in the hospital. He’s the only family she has now. He has to find the way to tell the news to Alekseev, even though Michela doesn’t want him to know. Eliot just came back from his summer studies and he sees Miki with different eyes. Tamara moves in and quickly becomes friend with Sarah and Kate. But they know there is something wrong with her past.

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Arcade

Even though Ryan and Duncan have agreed on forgiveness, Duncan has the constant feeling of losing the game of love. He feels disoriented and he will have to navigate through the fog to reach happiness. Jean-Karl, the newbie parent, isn’t ready for the stress of no-sleep nights and constant baby cries that are brought to the apartment, . Mikolas struggles to pay the rent so he applies for a modeling job… not so conventional.

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La la love

Jeroným is locked on the bathroom for a long time, and neither Albert and Antonín or the housekeeper are happy about it. Eliot finally agrees on working with Miki to save some money, and things are funnier that what he expected. Eleni decides giving Luca an oportunity.  

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La Forza (Strenght)

Tamara is working two shifts to pay rent and she is forced to leave Anja with the neighbours. Her daughter is upset with that decision, but maybe some things are not how she believed they were. Things keep getting colder and colder in the Rybak marriage, as Elina has went back to her workaholic habits. Zena gets stuck between the wall and the sword when Benjamin has news to tell her.

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Goodbye to Yesterday

The old Rästa house needs some fixing but Stig finds hard to let some things go. Polina is still trying to adapt to her new social enviroment and Sergey makes up a friend gathering for her to cheer her up, but maybe it will bring her a lot more anxiety than she already had. Alfred struggles in his recording.

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Under The Ladder

Konstyantyn is Alekseev’s well known cousin, being famous by his not very legal deals. His life isn’t idilic, everyone knows that, but things are going worse than the Rybak family expected. As Cláudia’s letters arrive, Ryan feels more and more lonely. Maybe it’s time to set up some more dates, but as her crime parter isn’t here, he doesn’t know how. As their relationship advances, Eleni and Luca have to name it.

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Michela’s letters (EXTRA EPISODE)

Michela wrote letters to her loved ones while she was inpatient in Massiel Hospital

TO DAD  TO ALEKSEEV  TO ELIOT   TO KURT

Zena’s and Benjamin’s Message Exchange (EXTRA EPISODE)

Where Benjamin tries to catch her attention, and Zena remains solid as a rock.

PART 01  PART 02  PART 03  PART 04  PART 05  PART 06  PART 07  PART 08

EXTRA EPISODES

Mai Natale (Christmas 2019)

As the festive season is coming, the Moro family get together and the most funny and sparkly disputes between them come afloat. Come to have a merry Christmas with them!

PART 1  PART 2  PART 3  PART 4  PART 5  PART 6  PART 7  PART 8

Europe’s Living a Celebration! (before AU)

Sergey, Miki, Mikolas and Luca booked a trip on a cruise together. It includes: pool, jacuzzi, spa, and what not, a bar. Will they stand each other for five days? Most importantly… will they arrive safe and sound to the Italian Islands?

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Mélovin’s Childhood (before AU)

Konstyantyn has just lost his mother due to suicide, and Alexander takes him to live with them. Working with a traumatized teenager and two innocent children, the couple have to make their house a safe enviroment.

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Alcohol You

Roxen and Victoria are very close sisters. Everything changes when a bottle of rum is inbetween the two.

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Victor Crone’s Tour Diary

Being the most famous musician from Villa Europa it’s not that easy sometimes. Victor portrays all the issues fame has given him.

PART 01  PART 02  PART 03  PART 04  PART 05

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About: Explanation of how Eurolife AU works.

Author: Get to know me (Khloe) behind Eurolife.

Characters: Get to know all the characters from Eurolife.

Touring around: Get to see all the places the characters frequent.

Shitposting: Memes, Q&A and out of context Eurolfie.

Don’t forget to support the original fic clicking here ;)

Last updated: 22/04/2020

[ritualmichael]

Thoughts on College!Duncan? Do you think he was a fuckboy, a nerd or just that good student who was incredible hot?

duncan was DEFINITELY in the most douchey frat at his school. super rich guys who partied way too much and were known fuckboys (we all know that one frat at our schools 👀). he’d party every chance he could but would also have amazing grades and would be very involved. he knew he had to uphold his image, even at that age. plus, he’d probably be the biggest charmer and could get any professor to help him out a little if he needed few points to keep up with his 4.0

[littledemondani]

everything changes | duncan shepherd x fem!reader

warnings: college!fuckboy!duncan, mentions of sex, duncan being a lowkey/but kinda not lowkey fuckboy, slight mention of drug use, angst

word count: 992

summary: you and duncan are classmates turned FWB until you start to develop feelings and find out the truth about how he really is; a fuckboy.

a/n: hey guys, so, this is something i thought up a few weeks ago when @avesatanormalpeoplescareme & i were screaming about fuckboy!michael.  she told me to write it, but every time i tried it just didn’t turn out the way i wanted it. i’ve never written any fics before, so please go easy on me.

part two

You met Duncan Shepherd your sophomore year of college. You both had political science together & got paired up for a project.

In the beginning, you hated him. Duncan never showed up to your group meetings which left you having to do the majority of the work (of course)

You decided to confront him after class the next day after being stood up, again. He used his charm (that damn smile of his) & somehow convinced you to meet him for coffee after your next class.

Much to your surprise, you actually enjoyed your coffee date meetup with Duncan. He talked about his family & how he can’t stand his uncle. He asks about you & wants to know more about your interests/philosophy/etc. You start to think that maybe your perception of him was a little too harsh (the stupid, young rich guy who only gives a fuck about himself).

Fast forward 2 months: you & Duncan have gotten a lot closer (by that I mean y’all fuck all the time).

The first time you had sex with Duncan was at a frat party he invited you to (because of course, this smug fucker was in a frat). You both had each done a line & found yourselves in the bathroom, you on the sink counter with your legs wrapped around his waist.

Even though he gave you two mind-blowing orgasms, you tried to tell yourself the next day it would never happen again.  

Spoiler Alert: It kept happening.

He’d call you in the middle of the night to go to his apartment because he missed his favorite girl.

Which always resulted in him fucking you so hard you couldn’t walk/sit right for days. Not that you minded. You loved being able to still feel him deep inside you & always craved him when he wasn’t.

Over time you began to develop feelings (yes, actual feelings) for Duncan & wanted more than just earth-shattering sex.

He, on the other hand, thought everything was going just fine the way it was. “What we have is good baby girl, you know how much you mean to me,” he told you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear & leaning in to give you the sweetest kiss.

You accepted his words because you felt like he genuinely meant them (He didn’t).

He didn’t mean a lot of the things he said. Like when he planned to take you on a date to the fanciest restaurant in D.C. & then gave an excuse explained that he couldn’t make it because he had to “study” (he never studied).

Or the time you confronted him about ghosting you for 3 days. “I’m sorry baby, I was just really busy. You know the way my family is. Let me make it up to you.”

Let me make it up to you actually meant let me fuck you so good so you won’t remember why you’re upset.

Which he seemed to do every time you started bringing up something that he did wrong.

He also started giving you flowers “just because” it was Tuesday & buying you whatever it was that you wanted. New clothes? Not a problem. Makeup from Sephora? He was with you helping you find your perfect foundation shade. He didn’t call you to say he was canceling y’all’s plans, leaving you to sit at home for 2 hours waiting for him? A pair of Louboutin heels, a black lace La Perla lingerie set, & a beautiful white gold diamond necklace from Cartier.

It was finally the end of the semester & you couldn’t be any happier to head back home for the summer. You missed your parents, best friends, & being away from the city. A couple of days before you were supposed to head out, Duncan asked you to go with him to his mother’s house that night. She was throwing a party for him since he passed the semester with flying colors (of course he did). You agree to go & instantly your stomach erupts in butterflies.

You decided to wear a form-fitting black cocktail dress with the Louboutin heels & Cartier necklace Duncan bought for you. Your hair was curled & half-up with a black bow & few wisps down the side of your face. Your makeup was soft glam with a nude pink liquid lipstick.

At 7pm he picked you up (looking hot af like always) & off y’all went. He sensed your nervousness, putting his hand on your thigh & rubbing small circles. “There’s no reason to be nervous, princess, my mother is going to love you.”

He opened the car door for you, linking your arm through his & walked through the door. You immediately feel very overwhelmed, not just because of the type of people there (D.C.’s elite) but more so by the scale of the house. It. Was. Massive. & dripping with wealth.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne & you grabbed one, downing it instantly. “Take it easy there. I told you, everything is going to be fine.” Duncan chuckled. You nod & try to relax, Duncan wouldn’t lie to you.

After about 20 minutes of making the rounds with Duncan you hear a woman’s voice call out his name. Turning around you spot who you believe to be his mother, Annette. “Duncan! I’m so proud of you!” she said, hugging him then turning to you, “Oh sweetie, you must be Alexis! I’ve heard so much about you.” She pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever been given.

You couldn’t see, but Duncan’s face was etched in horror. You instantly felt hot, starting at the base of your neck & creeping all the way down your body. Throat turning dry & cotton-like. Your airways constricting, making it harder for you to breathe. Finally, after what felt like hours, you open your mouth

“Uhh, my name is Y/N actually.”

Special thanks to @svjourn (my fellow Duncan thotty) for bouncing ideas back & forth with me & giving me the push to actually sit down to write this. You’re my hype woman & I love you. &lt;3

Tagging: @fckinsupreme @svjourn @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon

[littledemondani]

Just a small teaser from my upcoming college fuckboy!Duncan continuation. :)

Let me know what y’all think! Ahhh. xoxo

“Uhh, my name is Y/N actually.” You chuckled, trying desperately to keep your rage anxiety at bay. A million thoughts raced through your head at once that you didn’t even hear a thing Annette was saying to you. She excused herself & left to go do god knows what (you didn’t care, you just wanted to get the fuck out of there).

You got your phone from your clutch & sent for an Uber. The last thing you want is to be stuck with Duncan for longer than you need to be. He hasn’t said a word to you. Nor has he so much as looked at you. Adding more fuel to the pent up rage you’re already feeling. You decided to go outside & wait, knowing if you stay inside with him that you’re just going to lose your shit in front of everyone.

Once you reach the doorway you look behind you at Duncan one last time. He didn’t follow you, his utter shock keeping him from moving. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as if at any moment it would burst out of him. He knew he had fucked up, severely fucked up. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to follow you out & explain everything. He lifted his gaze from the floor to the doorway, locking in on your eyes. The look of betrayal & anguish on your face shattered him more than he’d like to admit. But as quickly as your eyes met, he turned away & walked off to go greet some acquaintances of his mother.

You felt your heart sink but knew what had to be done. This was it for you. No more putting up with Duncan & his bullshit. You opened the door & walked out of Duncan’s life, for good.

Baby Taglist: @fckinsupreme @svjourn @ms-mead @lovelylangdonx @hecohansen31 @divinelangdon @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @delgrey

[littledemondani]

kinda in the mood to talk about fuckboy duncan, send me asks 🙃

i miss him

[littledemondani]

🌈- celestialrequiem

@celestialrequiem

🌈 what inspired you to write [insert fic here]?

since there isn’t a fic named i’m gonna assume this is about what inspired me to write in general!

in all honesty, it was my friend kat/ avesatanormalpeoplescareme (i miss her writinggggg) she helped me get through my fear of being in the shadows and listened to me go on and on about college!fuckboy!duncan.

fanfic ask game

[littledemondani]

I’d let college fuckboy!duncan in my ass tbh

wbk you’d let him in all your holes sis 😂

[littledemondani]

y’all, i’m buzzed af! let’s talk about college fuckboy!duncan 😏

[littledemondani]

I really like your college fuckboy Duncan stuff!! Omg he’s beingallbutthurt that she’s basically acting like him to cope him literally ducking her over

omg thank you!! 🥰 i know! isn’t that how all fuckboy are though? hypocrites!

[littledemondani]

YESSSSSS college fuckboy Duncan.

my favorite fuckboy!

[littledemondani]

So I read your stories under some hashtags. Was there ever a frat Duncan? Also I can't find your masterlist.

he wasn’t frat!duncan, more-so college fuckboy!duncan who was mentioned to be in a frat.

i don’t have one just yet, i haven’t written that many fics to make a masterlist, but i will eventually. :)