#i know what you are……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….whore

[rottingpink]

hii 💕I know wildest dreams is a multi but would u be willing to do a pt. 2? like mayb a continuation in the car and then a lil fluff :3 it was soo good <3

wildest dreams ii | multi

cw. cheating (on your part), car sex, fingering, pussy play, degradation, fingering, squirting, crying, OVERSTIMULATION, messy sex, breeding, raw sex

synopsis. the biggest loser at your college takes you, the sweet, taken cheerleader to the backseat of his car while your boyfriend's on the football field.

pt. i here!

main masterlist | taglist

he groans lowly and grabs for your waist, tugging you into him and kissing you messily. he doesn't let you catch your breath for a second, merely scooping you up with his hands under your thighs while he carries you, lips on yours, to his car out in the lot behind the football field.

your hands tangle up in his hair while your tongue rolls over his. for someone as strange and unsettling as him, he tastes oddly pleasant, like mint and smoke, and his lips, though chapped, mold on yours so perfectly that it feels like he's made for you. he squeezes your thighs and nips your lower lip, murmuring into your mouth, "you're not walking into that stadium again unless it's with my cum dripping out of you."

you moan into his thought, warm and fuzzy at the idea of him breeding you in the back of his car and making you walk back to the pitch when he's done with his cum stuffed in you and dripping out every step you take.

your arms lace tighter around his shoulders as you go back to kissing him, tilting your head to get the perfect angle of your tongue against his, and your mewls get louder when you do. "mmh, mmh..." you hum softly

his mouth moves against yours urgently, almost as if he's starving. his tongue slides against yours as he walks with you in his arms, slotting into your mouth in messy, wet strokes that make heatwaves travel through your body and pool at your core.

"fuck... tastes like candy..." you can feel how hard he's breathing and he squeezes you tightly like you might run away and never talk to him again after this.

you pull back just enough to breathe and he chases after you, lips dragging down to your jaw, your neck, his mouth warm and frantic. "don't stop," he mumbles against your skin, breath hot, voice wrecked. "give it back t'me. come on, pretty… kiss me again." 

you oblige and shove your mouth back into his just as he reaches his sleek car, and he fists his pocket to find his keys, unlocking it without pulling away from you, and lays you down in the backseat under him with no effort. it smells like cedar and his natural, everyday scent. he doesn't let up off you for a second, already spreading your thighs apart so he can slot his body between your legs.

you're so small underneath him, pliant and needy and reaching up to tug at his clothes and his hair to ground yourself while he strips you fully, not wanting an inch of you covered. he could afford to do so, as his tinted windows and huge body hid you from any passerby that may wander near his car, though he doubts anyone would be anywhere but the game right now. anyone normal, of course. not little brats like you who wanna get pounded in the backseat of some social reject's car. 

he's quick to strip you of every article of clothing on you except for your cute knee high socks and the lacy stretch of your panties, which are now so soaked that they've become sticky and translucent and stick to the plump lips of your pussy. "look at the nasty lil' mess you made." he tuts, voice mocking as his thumb runs over the outline of your cunt through your panties, which makes you jolt and instinctively reach to claw at his hand.

"w-wait! 'm sensitive," you whine, extremely tender from cumming so much already, but he doesn't seem to care at all. he pushes you back into place, grabbing your wrists firmly and pinning them above you with one of his huge hands. "no shying away after you begged me to fuck you like a little whore. you're gettin' what you asked for." he says sternly, still rubbing you through your panties. 

you squirm beneath him, bucking up into his hand before wiggling away due to overstimulation. you don't know if you want more or less. your panties grind against his fingers, and he pushes his fingers up against your panties so your juices squelch and make a huge mess in your underwear.

he drags his thumb up slowly and presses just right against the swollen, soaked outline of your clit through the thin fabric, and you moan, high and whiny. he finally, finally pushes your panties aside, exposing your glistening cunt to the cool air of the car, and his eyes go hazy at the sight of the mess between your thighs. "fuck, you're so pretty down here," he mutters, fingers dipping into your folds, spreading you open with ease. he tosses your panties somewhere in the heap of your clothes at the floor of his car.

his fingers slip through your soaked, swollen folds easily, and he relishes in the little gasp you make as he notches his fingers knuckles deep inside you, twisting and curling his fingers immediately to stretch you out. his eyes are locked on the slick that strings from your pussy to the base of his fingers, and he groans in delight. you're this soaked for him. only him. he swirls his thumb around the tight ring of your asshole in the meantime, not pushing in yet, but to spread your slick around to your other hole too. "mmh, please, 'm sore," you whine, knowing how much you want it anyway.

"shh... you don't want me to stop. look at your pussy, she's gushing. didn't even need to prep you," he mocks, pumping his fingers into you fast and rough, your toes are curling against the leather backseat and your head lolls back, mouth falling open as loud moans leave you. you can't even respond anymore to tell him not to tease you, because your soaked cunt pulses every time he says something mean.

he pushes his fingers down inside you, the pads of his fingers resting still on that sweet spot deep inside you, while he fumbles with his belt and begins to tug down his pants and boxers. but too much pressure on such a sensitive spot inside you, which already experienced so much stimulation is far too much for you. you thrash underneath him, feeling a very odd coiling feeling in your tummy, and also the need to pee...

"w-wait, ngh! take your fingers out, p-please, i think... i think 'm gonna..!"

he ignores you, slipping in a third finger and using all three to push down hard on that spot, and before you can stop yourself, you're gushing around his fingers intensely with a scream so loud he has to let go of your wrists to cover your mouth.

he freezes once you squirt around his fingers which remain buried deeply inside your fluttering walls, and as you gush all over his hand in several hard, uncontrollable pulses, his eyes go wide, pupils blown out, and he leans back slightly to watch. "...oh, fuck."

his voice is quiet at first, like he genuinely can't believe what he just saw.

he looks down at you, eyes flicking from your soaked pussy and thighs to your brightly flushed face, then back to the fucking ruined state of your pussy. "you just..." he breathes, curling his fingers inside you experimentally, which makes you jerk under him and gush a little more around him. he's fascinated. a girl like you can't be real, can you? "...squirted on my fingers."

he doesn't even try to hide how turned on he is. despite cumming earlier from frotting with you back outside behind the bleachers, he's rock hard again, cock bulging at the front of his cum soaked pants. he lifts his soaked hand up and parts his fingers to look at the gooey strings between him, and then pushes two fingers into his mouth, licking at your juices. you squeak, embarrassed beyond belief and red in the face, but still too far gone to tell him how dirty he's making you feel right now.

moaning at your taste, he pulls his boxers down to rest at his knees with his jeans, and his fat cock springs up, swollen and flushed a bright red at the huge, flared tip, with several strings of pearlescent liquid clinging to the fabric of his discarded boxers and more leaking down the shaft. you're both soaked. he lets go of you just long enough to line himself up at your soaked entrance, nudging the tip through your folds and collecting your slick.  his other hand comes up to grab your throat, so he's holding you still, grounding you in place. 

he makes sure to stare into your eyes intently as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. he sinks in slow at first, just the thick, heavy head of his cock pressing into your fluttering hole, and you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes rolling back, feet digging into the seat.

you whimper, nails scrabbling at his shoulders the second he frees your hands to hold onto your throat and hips. he leans down to kiss you again while you adjust to his size, fat tip swelling at your womb while he rests inside you and swirls his tongue around yours. he starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling, grinding, both of you panting into each other's mouths, your thighs shaking with every bounce. he pulls back just a little to murmur against your lips, "oh fuck, fuck, fuck, you're tight. shit, this pussy's fuckin' choking me."

you cry out under him, overwhelmed by the stretch and the sensation of his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch. it burns, but it's good. your body clenches around him helplessly. "too much... mmmh.... s'too big," you babble, but your hips don't stop moving under him, fucking yourself onto his cock even as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"yeah?" he groans, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. "but you said please, baby. remember? begged me to fuck you. so take it." he bottoms in and out in rough thrusts that make your whole body jolt, ensuring each thrust has him fully inside you. you're so soaked that he slides in perfectly every time, your walls clinging to him deliciously while his cock also slips inside you with filthy, loud schlick's. he's sliding in like nothing, your walls clenching and sucking him in tighter with every thrust while your slick soaks his shaft. 

the car rocks as he thrusts into you, his cock splitting you open with each thrust deep inside you. your pussy stretches slightly to accommodate to is girth, and he feels his mind numbing at the way your pussy slurps him in with each thrust. he groans loud, head tipping back and his hand squeezing firmer around your throat to make your eyes flutter. not for long, though. he likes to look into your pretty eyes while he ruins you.

"open 'em," he demands, squeezing a little on the sides of your throat to jolt you back to the present. he slams into you with a particularly rough thrust, your tits bouncing and head lolling stupidly at the feeling of being fucked dumb on the school loser's huge fucking dick. "there you go. such a good girl f'me, aren't you?"

"uh... uh... uhhuhhh...." you breathe out stupidly, drool slipping past your parted lips. you're GONE. fully gone. your fingers dig into his broad shoulders and then trail down his body, exploring his broad frame and muscles. before you look back into his eyes. he chuckles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your swollen lips, the gentleness contrasting the way he's pounding into you and holding your throat. "look at you." he hums. "forgot you're a disloyal little whore, didn't you?"

he snaps his hips up into yours, a small bulge forming in your tummy where he lodges his cock so deep inside you. "or maybe," he sneers, "you just don't care about anything but having your cunt stuffed to the brim."

you cry out, dragging him down so you can bury your face in his neck, and he kisses your jaw, fucking you while laying on top of you. "cum for me again," he demands, lips brushing your temple while his hips roll into yours. your legs tremble and curl around his waist, each thrust making your pussy flutter around him. you try to clamp down on him, but his girth makes it so difficult. 

he's splitting you open with every drag of his cock against your raw, plushy walls. sobbing into his skin, he mumbles filth into your ear while his hands travel down to your waist and he drags your body up effortlessly so his cock is tilted up inside you, the perfect angle for him to hit that same spongy spot inside you over and over, making your mouth drop open in a silent scream. you clamp around him hard, fingernails digging into the firm muscle of his back. the pressure inside you winds tight, tight, tighter...

" 'm cumming!"

you explode around him, pussy convulsing around his cock. your whole body seizes, a strangled moan ripping out of you while you cream around him uncontrollably. 

"fuck, fuck, look at you," he moans, watching your pussy pulse around him, fluttering on his cock like you were made for it. "holy shit, baby."

he pulls out just enough to see your slick gush after him before slamming back in, making you sob. he shoves your thighs up higher, practically folding you in half now, forcing you open wide so he can fuck even deeper. the wet, obscene sound of your cunt sucking him in grows louder with every thrust, echoing in the small space of the car, and he grits out, "you feel that? feel how deep i am? gonna fill you up, fuck, 'm gonna breed you."

your head spins and you nod frantically, moaning out broken, babbled yes's, even as tears slip from the corners of your eyes. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck."

he buries himself to the hilt and cums hotly inside with a deep groan, heavy, fat balls twitching as he empties them deep inside you, so much at once that you can feel your womb filling up to the hilt. he keeps you locked against him so all of it floods inside you. "ngh... 's such a fuckin' perfect pussy," he groans aloud, mouth falling open as he keeps filling you and filling you and filling you until your belly distends just slightly from the volume of his cum.

you're gasping, clinging to him, body limp beneath him while you both ride it out together. he pants into your mouth, breathing hard, kissing you through the aftershocks. his voice is low, barely audible, wrecked. "mine. fuckin' mine. look what you do to me."

he stays inside you, twitching every now and then as your fluttering walls milk him, your slick and his cum seeping out around the base of his cock.

_

you make your way back to the football field with wobbly legs and your cheeks flushed. you tried your best to fix yourself up before going back, raking your fingers through your hair, redoing your mascara and touching up your lip gloss, praying it hides how swollen and red he made your lips.

you put your hair down so any marks on your skin aren't visible, not that your dumbass boyfriend looks at you close enough to be able to tell. the loner's cum is still hot and thick inside you, leaking a little down your inner thighs with every step, wetting the inside of your cheer skirt while the rest pools into fat globs in your panties.

the crowd is screaming loudly and your cheer girls are bouncing and huddled up with the football team. the whole field is lit up in bright stadium lights, and no one is looking around for you right now. you use it as an opportunity to slide in through the back fence and under the bleachers to act like you'd been here the whole time, and you go to where the other cheerleaders are. unfortunately, you weren't as subtle as you thought.

ava, one of the girls in your year that you usually hang out with at lunch squeals and grabs your arm. causing the other girls to quickly turn their attention to you too. "where were you?" she screeches. "coach was looking for you!"

you blink coyly, rubbing the back of your neck to give the impression of being embarrassed. "i just really had to pee," you lie "mid routine, but then i couldn't find the right bathroom, an' i got mixed up and all of them had super long lines, and i'm so sorry, i was literally crying the whole time-" you sniffle. 

the girls coo over you. you're just too sweet and cute to be mad at. so sweet, that no one would ever think you just got fucked in the back of the school loser's car.

then, your boyfriend barrels into you, carrying the unpleasant scent of sweat from the exertion he produced while on the field. he yells your name and picks you up with both arms around your waist, causing a fresh scoop of cum to trickle out of you. you squeak, hoping it's not noticeable, and he spins you in a circle. "there you are!" he shouts, loud and giddy, "my girl! babe, we fucking crushed it!"

he kisses you hard, and you giggle awkwardly, letting him brag about his win like he didn't just get cheated on for the past hour and a half. "i was watching," you lie with a perfect little tilt of your head. "I saw everything! you did so good!."

and that's when he walks up. he stands out of the crowd on his own, mouth red, eyes low, and hair a little mussed. there are faint lipgloss marks on his neck and jaw that he didn't wipe off.

he's walked in like nothing's happened, stopping at the edge of the crowd with his gaze locked on you very blatantly. you stare back while in your boyfriend's arms, and he follows your gaze and scowls quickly, arms tightening around you. "the fuck is that guy looking at?" he snaps, his voice obnoxiously loud. "why is he staring at you like that?"

you blink innocently, letting your eyes go all wide and confused. "who?"

"him," your boyfriend hisses, nodding over your shoulder. "that fucking creep. what the hell is his problem?"

you shrug, still looking at him, not your boyfriend. "um... i dunno... maybe he's high?"

your boyfriend scoffs, and tugs you in closer like he's marking territory. "yeah, well, he can fuck off. that fucking freak's probably just scoping out girls he can perv out on. probably watches porn in his room all day."

he doesn't look away from you, even as your boyfriend runs his mouth. you wonder if he can still smell your perfume on his hoodie. you hug your boyfriend back and lean into him, coaxing him to just leave it. he obliges and carries you back to the crowd to celebrate, and you look over your shoulder one last time to see him finally turn and walk away.

[saintormentor]

p u s s y t r a i n i n g c . s

i n w h i c h . . . chris comes home frustrated, and the only thing on his mind is fucking the anger away.

w a r n i n g s . . . smut, p in v, fem receiving oral, male receiving oral, pressuring, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, gagging, crying, creampie, aftercare, pussy spanking, rough language and handling, derogatory language (slut, whore, etc.)

it was unusual for chris to be annoyed with you, let alone be annoyed by your sounds. it was long day. it was clear in the sharp set of his jaw, the stubble decorating his cheekbones, and mostly the way his fingers twitched. oh, not to mention he nearly slammed the apartment door off its hinges. he was itching to take his anger out on something, and you sitting there all pretty drew in his attention.

it made your stomach turn—not with fear, but with a kind of electricity. because even though chris was quiet when he was angry, there was a weight to it. a pressure. like the air shifted. like your body instinctively braced, not because you thought he’d hurt you, but because you knew exactly what he needed.

he didn’t say hi when he walked in. didn’t kiss you like he usually did. just kicked his shoes off with a grunt and tossed his keys onto the counter so hard they skidded. his chest was rising fast. he paced once, twice, before his eyes cut to you on the couch like you were the one thing in the room still breathing too calmly.

you blinked up at him, lips parted, legs tucked underneath you, the blanket slipping off your shoulder.

“gonna look at m’like that?” his voice was low. rough. dangerous in a way that made heat pool in your stomach.

you swallowed. “like what?”

his jaw ticked. “like you want me to fuck y’dumb.”

your breath caught.

then—like a switch—he was walking toward you, slow but certain. a shadow of something wild in his eyes.

you didn’t move. couldn’t. didn’t want to.

“long fuckin’ day,” he muttered, stopping just in front of you. his hand slid into your hair, gentle for half a second before gripping tighter. “and you’re sittin’ here making those little sounds like you don’t know what that does to me.”

your thighs clenched. “i didn’t mean—”

“yeah, you did,” he snapped. but not angry with you. angry at everything else. and needing you to fix it.

he pushed the blanket off you fully, let his eyes drag over your bare legs, the tank top you wore without a bra, the softness of your skin. he exhaled like it hurt to hold back.

“you just gonna sit there,” he whispered, “or you gonna help me feel better?”

you bit your lip, heart pounding. “what do you want me to do?”

his answer was immediate. raw.

“get on y’knees.”

and you did—slowly, letting him see the way you obeyed, the way you ached to be good for him. he watched you, his hands fisting at his sides, chest heaving. his hoodie fell to the floor. the zipper hit the tile. his belt followed.

he stepped closer. tilted your chin up with two fingers. “open your mouth,” he breathed.

he paused his movements, brushing his thumb against your lips, which instinctively wrapped around it. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you stayed still, let him press his thumb deeper until it brushed the back of your throat, until tears pricked in your lashes and your thighs rubbed together because the helplessness—the need—was already simmering through you.

then, finally, he undid his jeans.

you heard the clink of the buckle, the sharp hiss of fabric dragged down fast. his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip, and when he wrapped one hand around the base and stroked, just once, you could see the tension ripple down his forearm like he was barely holding it together.

“gonna let me use your mouth, baby?” he rasped, voice darker now. “i don’t even wanna think about today.”

you nodded, breath shaky, lips parting again.

he didn’t ask again. didn’t hesitate.

the first thrust was shallow—just the head, just enough to feel your lips wrap tight around him, to hear the wet click of spit when he pulled back. but the second? deeper. his hand cradled the back of your head and he fed it to you inch by inch, slow and deliberate. punishing in its control.

“that’s it,” he grunted, watching your eyes. “take it. open up for me.”

you hollowed your cheeks, let him slide deeper, let your tongue flatten underneath. he groaned, low and guttural, head tipping back for a split second before he looked down again, eyes locked on yours.

your hands gripped his thighs for balance, fingers digging into the denim around his knees. spit was already beginning to drip down your chin, and he fucking loved it—his hips rolled forward, just once, deeper than before, until you gagged around him.

“fuck, baby—just like that. let me use you.”

he didn’t stop.

he fucked your mouth like he needed it. like it was therapy. rough, rhythmic thrusts that made your eyes tear up and your core ache with every single pass of his cock over your tongue. you could hear yourself—wet, obscene sounds filling the quiet apartment along with his ragged breath and the muttered curses he kept spitting through clenched teeth.

“such a pretty little mouth. made to suck cock, huh?” he groaned.

you whimpered around him—both from the intensity and the way your thighs were soaked now, squirming for relief. and he noticed.

he pulled back suddenly, letting his cock slide free with a thick, wet sound. a string of spit stayed connected between you, and he wiped it away with his thumb, smearing it across your bottom lip like it was something holy.

you were gasping, flushed, mouth swollen. and still so fucking needy.

“get on the couch,” he said. “spread your legs. i’m not done with you.”

you scrambled back onto the couch, heart racing, legs shaking a little as you reclined against the cushions. chris’s eyes never left you—dark and glassy, like he was barely hanging on.

you pulled your tank top off first. no bra. his gaze dragged over your chest, the way your nipples were already hard from how wrecked he’d gotten you with just his voice and the weight of him in your mouth. he looked possessed.

“shorts too,” he muttered. “now.”

you shimmied them down, no underwear beneath. he groaned when he saw the slick mess between your thighs—your folds glistening, the soft little quiver in your thighs as they spread wider, like your body was begging for him.

“jesus christ,” he whispered, dragging a hand down his face before climbing between your legs on the couch. “you dripping for me already, baby? all that from sucking my cock?”

you nodded, breathless. “please—chris, i need—”

but you didn’t get to finish. because his mouth was on you.

no teasing. no warning. he dove in like he was starved, tongue dragging a thick stripe up your slit before his lips closed around your clit and sucked hard enough to make your whole body jolt. your back arched off the couch, a desperate cry ripping from your throat as your fingers shot into his hair, holding on.

he groaned into you—deep and filthy—as he licked, sucked, devoured you like he was mad about it. like tasting you was the only thing anchoring him after a shit day. and when he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, your thighs snapped around his head like instinct.

“fuck—chris, please—”

“shut up.” he didn’t stop. didn’t even slow. his fingers fucked into you fast and deep while his tongue circled your clit in tight, hungry patterns. you could hear the slick sounds between your legs, feel the obscene heat building in your gut, your whole body trembling under the force of it.

you were gonna come. and he knew it.

he pulled back just enough to speak—his mouth shiny, chin wet, voice low and raw.

“you gonna come for me, baby? on my fuckin’ face?”

“yes,” you gasped. “yes, chris—please, i’m gonna—”

“then fuckin’ come.”

and you did. hard.

your legs locked around his head, your body convulsing with it, loud and desperate and messy as everything cracked open inside you. he didn’t stop until you were twitching, whimpering, pulling at his hair to make him stop because it was too much.

but even then—he didn’t give you a break.

he climbed up your body, still hard, still leaking. lined himself up and looked at you like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“you want me to fuck you now?” he rasped.

you nodded, dazed, soaked, spent but aching for more. “please.”

and then he was inside you.

no condom. no pause. just a deep, brutal thrust that had your eyes rolling back as he buried himself to the hilt. you felt everything—the way he stretched you open, the way he filled you so completely you could hardly breathe.

he started to move—deep and punishing, slow at first just to watch the way your face crumpled, then faster, rougher, fucking you like he owned you.

“tight as ever,” he growled into your ear. “so fucking wet. you needed this, whore? needed me to fuck it outta you?”

“uh- uh huh.” you whimpered, a little too loud for comfort.

“too loud,” he cooed, voice laced with mock sympathy as his hips drove into you again, deeper this time. “be a little quieter.”

and sure, you tried.

and sure, you failed. miserably.

because how could you be quiet when he was fucking you like this? when your back was arched, legs hooked over his shoulders, his cock slamming into you so perfectly, so brutally, that your vision blurred? every stroke knocked another breath out of your lungs, dragged another sound from your throat—whimpers, gasps, cries that bordered on sobs.

“mm-mm,” he tutted, not slowing at all. his hand slid up your throat, not choking but holding, thumb pressing just beneath your jaw as your head lolled back. “you don’t listen. always so fuckin’ loud when i tell you to be good.”

your mouth hung open, but no words came—just a broken little moan as he shifted his angle and hit something dangerous inside you. your nails clawed at the cushions, your hips twitching against his grip.

“what’s that?” he whispered, leaning closer so his lips brushed your ear. “gonna come again?”

you nodded frantically, body trembling, throat too tight to speak.

“huh. ‘course you are.” he gave a sharp thrust that made you cry out again. “can’t even help yourself, can you? so fuckin’ needy. you like this? getting ruined on my cock while you make all those pretty little sounds?”

you sobbed out a yes, not even caring how pathetic you sounded. you were gone—fucked dumb, so deep in it your body barely felt like your own.

his grip tightened around your throat.

“come then,” he growled. “and keep your eyes on me while you do it.”

and somehow, somehow, you managed it—staring up at him with tears on your lashes and his name breaking on your lips as your whole body shattered beneath him. your muscles clamped around his cock, spasming hard, your moans spilling out no matter how hard you tried to bite them back.

and he loved it.

because a second later, he was losing it too—hips stuttering, a filthy groan dragged from his chest as he spilled into you, deep and hot, holding you open with both hands as he came with a force that left him trembling.

he stayed there for a moment, still inside you, breath hot against your cheek.

“you really don’t know how to shut up,” he murmured, smirking against your jaw. “guess i’ll just have to keep fuckin’ you ‘til you learn.”

you took in deep breaths, trying to blink the stars from your vision, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. every nerve felt like it was on fire. every breath tasted like chris.

but just when you thought you’d come down from your high—

smack.

a hard slap landed square against your already soaked, overstimulated pussy. the sound echoed off the walls, sharp and wet, and your whole body jolted with a strangled cry.

“fuck!—chris—” you gasped, hips twitching away instinctively, only for his arm to hook around your thigh and yank you right back where he wanted you.

“mm-mm, shhh,” he hummed, low and dangerous as he knelt between your legs, his voice thick with post-orgasm haze but laced with something hungrier now. “gotta train this pussy to be quiet.”

he ran two fingers through your folds—slow, almost gentle—and you whimpered at the contact. you were so sensitive you couldn’t think straight. he watched your hips jerk, your thighs tremble, and his grin deepened.

“look at this messy little cunt,” he muttered, dragging your arousal—his cum—down to your clit, circling it until your back arched off the couch again. “still so fuckin’ wet. still leaking for me.”

“chris—too much, i can’t—”

“you can,” he said calmly. “and you will.”

and then his mouth was back on you.

no mercy. no patience. just relentless, obscene suction on your clit while two fingers curled deep inside you again, stretching your swollen walls and dragging moans from your lips that you couldn’t even begin to hold back.

you thrashed, breath catching, tears slipping down your cheeks from how intense it was—your thighs trying to close, your hands scrambling for something to grip, something to ground you.

but he held you open. forced you to take it.

“you said you’d be good,” he growled against your skin. “so fucking be good.”

your body betrayed you. despite the overstimulation, despite the ache—your orgasm was already building again, terrifying in its speed, the pressure crushing.

“no—chris, i’m gonna—i can’t—please—”

“shut up. yes. yes you can,” he snapped, rubbing hard circles over your clit while his fingers fucked you fast and deep and relentlessly. “you’re gonna come for me again. right now.”

and you did.

you came harder than before—louder, wetter, your entire body locking up as a gush of release flooded his hand and the couch cushions below. you sobbed through it, shaking uncontrollably, legs twitching as he kept going just a second longer, milking it out of you, letting you writhe and cry and fall completely apart.

only then—only then—did he slow, pulling his fingers out, slick and glistening, before sucking them clean with a low, satisfied hum.

he leaned over you, gaze molten, his voice barely above a whisper.

“that,” he breathed, “was for making all those sounds.”

your whole body was trembling, soaked and flushed, your chest rising in frantic little pants as you tried to ground yourself—but chris wasn’t done.

not even close.

you barely had time to blink before he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over—face pressed into the cushions, ass up, legs spread wide.

“look at this mess,” he muttered, dragging his fingers down your slick folds again, letting your wetness drip down your thighs. “you’re fucking dripping. ruined my couch already.”

you whined into the cushion, heat blooming in your cheeks at how wrecked you were, at the way your body was betraying you—still aching, still needy.

he gave your pussy another hard slap.

smack.

“quiet. stay just like that,” he growled. “don’t fuckin’ move.”

you nodded, barely managing a broken little yes before the blunt head of his cock was back at your entrance. he didn’t ease in this time—he slammed into you, hard and deep, making you cry out into the pillow, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, gripping your hips so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. “this pussy’s never felt so good. all wet and twitchy for me. greedy fuckin’ thing.”

you couldn’t speak. you could only moan, every sharp thrust driving you higher again, overstimulation and desire colliding until you felt like you might explode.

he leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, one hand coming up to fist in your hair and yank your head back, forcing you to arch.

“you like getting fucked like this?” he rasped against your ear. “like a little toy? used until you can’t think?”

you whimpered—yes, a thousand times yes—but all that came out was a gasping, wrecked little moan.

“that’s what i thought,” he muttered, pounding into you harder. faster. the couch creaked beneath you, the wet sounds between your bodies obscene. “you’re fucking perfect. made for this. made for me.”

he reached around, fingers finding your clit again, and you screamed—your whole body jerking, pleasure sparking up your spine like lightning.

“no, no—chris, i can’t—”

“shhh. it’s okay. you can,” he growled. “one more. give me one more.”

you were sobbing into the cushions, eyes rolling back as your body spiraled out of control. every nerve was on fire, every part of you begging for relief. he rubbed tight, relentless circles over your clit while his cock pistoned into you, deeper and harder and faster.

“come on, baby,” he grunted. “be a good fuckin’ girl. come for me.”

and you did.

your orgasm hit like a fucking bomb—your body clenching around him so hard he shouted, thick ropes of cum spilling into you as he fucked you through it, your legs trembling, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

he collapsed over you, still buried deep, breath ragged against your neck.

your bodies were a mess of sweat, slick, and sex—his cum leaking down your thighs, your skin sticky with heat and every inch of you raw from how good it felt.

you stayed like that, both of you catching your breath.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

not because you didn’t want to—but because you couldn’t.

your body was limp, twitching with the last echoes of your orgasm, and chris’s weight on top of you was grounding in a way that made your heart ache. your breath came in short, shaky bursts, your cheek pressed into the cushion, legs splayed open, thighs sticky with slick and cum and sweat.

then, slowly, he softened inside you and let out a quiet, exhausted breath.

you felt him press a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. another to your spine. then he whispered, “you okay?”

your throat was dry, but you nodded. “mmhmm.”

he was already moving—slipping out of you carefully, fingers brushing down your sides like he didn’t want to let go just yet. he helped you shift, cradling you gently into your back as your body trembled, and when he looked at you, the cocky edge was gone.

now, it was just him.

your chris.

the one who made sure you were breathing. who checked your pulse. who brushed the hair from your damp forehead with the back of his hand and kissed your temple like it was the only thing keeping him calm.

“too much?” he asked softly, voice thick with something real now—guilt, maybe. or just love.

you shook your head, curling into him.

he exhaled like he needed to hear that. then he stood, only for a second, disappearing into the bathroom. you heard the faucet run, the sound of a towel being soaked, rung out. he came back and knelt beside the couch, warm washcloth in hand.

“spread for me,” he said, but this time, there was no demand. no teasing.

you did, cheeks flushed, and he cleaned you gently—every swipe careful, reverent. he wiped away the mess between your thighs, his cum dripping down your skin, and kissed your knee once he was done.

“you’re so good,” he murmured. “such a sweet girl.”

you smiled, hazy and warm, and reached for him. he wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the blanket over both of you, burying his face in your neck like he wanted to disappear into your skin.

“sorry i came in all pissed n’ shit,” he said after a minute. “you didn’t deserve that.”

you carded your fingers through his messy hair. “you didn’t take it out on me. you let me take it from you.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you.

and then he kissed you—soft, slow, open-mouthed. nothing hungry now. just grateful.

“you always do,” he whispered.

“i always will,” you promised. he held you tighter.

he couldn’t even remember why he was mad earlier.

a / n . . . if this flops theres no point to live on

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The divorce papers had been signed that afternoon, three years of marriage reduced to legal documents and a splitting of assets… That’s how Nanami found himself at the local bar, liquid amber burning down his throat, tie loosened, the weight of his wedding ring suddenly unbearable… 

Then you walked in.

Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. College girl written in the innocent tilt of your yellow sundress, the way it clings to your waist, your breasts, the hem flirtatiously brushing against your thighs.

You look so sweet, he thought. A drink like the ones the men were buying you would surely corrupt your pretty mouth, but you sipped with an ease that spoke of experience, even when you cringe at the taste, making the guys around you laugh. 

It made him think about his wife -his ex wife now- the last time they made love, when she bit her lips to hold back a moan, as if afraid someone might hear. He wondered what noises you would make if you were on top of him, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into your tight pussy. 

Would you call out his name? Moan like a whore? Would you beg him to go harder? Deeper? Or would you be shy, too embarrassed to ask for what you really wanted, forcing him to take what he wants, making you take it?

He shook his head and knocked back the rest of his whiskey, trying to clear his mind. You were far too young, far too innocent... Nanami looked away... He had no right to feel this way about a female he didn't know, a girl that had her whole life ahead of her.

You ordered something sweet and fruity while he nursed his drink, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. And then, your eyes met his.

He doesn't remember buying you drinks. Doesn't remember the conversation that led to your hand on his thigh, your breath wine-sweet against his ear as you whispered, "I know somewhere quiet."

But he remembers his Lexus. God, he'll never forget the damn Lexus. 

"Fuck-" The word tears from his throat as you sink down onto him, your tight cunt splitty open around his cock like you were made for this moment. The leather seats creak beneath you both, divorce papers scattered on the floor like confetti celebrating his rebirth.

You were so goddamn young, so wet, so eager- everything his ex wife hadn't been in years, and my god... You're so fucking tight it hurts, and he's so fucking thick you can barely breathe around the stretch. Your sundress is hiked up around your waist, his hands fisted in the fabric and your hair- his wedding ring catching strands as he holds you against his body.

"You- mph - you're going to ruin me," His hips jerk up involuntarily, "aren't you?" driving deeper, and you cry out like he's hitting some spot inside of you that only a man like him can reach. He's massive- way more massive than you initially thought, thick enough that your eyes water, that your cunt burns trying to stretch around him. The head of his cock forcing your walls apart, claiming every inch as you slowly take him to the base. 

Nanami can feel you trying to adjust to his size, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each bounce as you babble incoherently- "S'too-m'fuckfuckfuck-sh'too big!!" tears leaking from your eyes, "don' ev-even know -hah - your n-name!"

His name is Nanami, but that doesn't matter... He felt how your pussy clenched at your words. You were getting off on the wrongness of the situation, just like he was. The depravity of it- this older man using your young body, his wedding ring cool against your skin. 

You don't know him, don't care who he is, and that makes this all the more exciting.

His lips crash against yours, swallowing every little noise you make as he ruts up into your heat, the windows fogging up, the car shaking with the force of his thrusts.

"S'doesn't matter," is all he says, his voice low, husky while his one hand guides your hips in a rhythm that makes his vision blur.

The condom stretches tight around him, already straining from how hard he is, how deep he's buried inside your young cunt. He can feel your orgasm building in the tremor of your thighs, the way your breath comes in desperate little gasps.

When you come, you scream. Actually scream, head thrown back like a religious experience, and your pussy clamps down so hard he sees stars. The sensation drags out his own climax, his hips lifting clean off the seat as he empties himself into the latex barrier. 

The condom swells inside you, and you whimper at the added pressure, grinding down like you want to milk every last drop from him. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, wringing another orgasm from your oversensitive nerves.

Afterward, you collapse against his chest, both of you breathing like survivors... His wedding ring still tangled in your hair... 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It happens again a week later. Then again. And again.

Always his car. Always that same desperate hunger, like he’s trying to fuck the loneliness out of himself. You learn to take him easier, your body adapting to his size, but he never gets used to how perfectly you fit around him.

"Missed this," he groans against your neck as he bends you over in the backseat, your sundress -a different one, pink this time- bunched around your waist, pink lace panties ripped and tossed in the front seat, "Thought about you all week."

His cock twitches inside you, and the way his hands grip your waist possessively, you believe him.

You feel his breath hitch when you start to move against him, grinding your hips back against his, feeling him so deep you could choke on it, the head of his cock pressing so hard- nestled against the opening of your womb. You swear if you looked down you’d see a perfect outline of it stretching out your stomach.

With a cock-drunk smile you can't help but imagine him coming inside you, painting the deepest part of you with his seed. "Mmn, missed this, too, Nanami-san~" you gasp sweetly, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He wants to say more, his tongue heavy with words unspoken- "missed you", "you're beautiful", "god, I can't get enough of you"… He always wants to say more.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he fucks you like he owns you, like your young cunt exists solely for his pleasure.

He never gives you his number, never takes you anywhere but his car, and when he pulls out, the condom is always filled to the brim with his cum- stretched obscenely with your arousal coating the outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three weeks later after he's fucked you stupid in his car, he asks you, "Come home with me tonight." The words are quiet, almost uncertain.

You look up at him from where you’re starting to doze off against his chest, "Your place?"

"My place." His fingers trace patterns on your bare shoulder, "Stay the night."

His apartment is exactly what you’d expected- minimalist, expensive, cold. But his bed is warm, and he fucks you properly there, taking his time to explore your body, to discover the things that made those pretty lashes flutter, those gorgeous lips moan his name., "K-Kento~♡!"

He’s so gentle, so slow, making you come so many times that by the time you finally pass out, the sheets were soaked, his cock still buried deep inside with a condom so full of cum, it nearly split at the seams.

That night Nanami watches you sleep, the way your hair fans out around your face, the little snores escaping your parted lips. He brushes a lock of hair from your cheek, a sudden ache in his chest as he sighs, "What am I doing?" This was wrong, "I'm too old for you," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours while gathering you in his arms, "This can't be a long-term thing…"

His voice trails off, the warmth of your body against his pulling him under.

"This can't be a long-term thing," he repeats the words in his dreams, and it sounds like a lie.

In the morning, he makes coffee and breakfast… Actual pancakes, not the instant kind from your dorm.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It becomes routine. Your toothbrush joins his, the spare pajamas in his drawer are yours, and his apartment begins to smell like flowers and the perfume you wear. He drops you off at lectures, picks you up after. Pays for textbooks without blinking. Watches you study at his kitchen table while he cooks dinner, domestic in a way that terrifies him.

Nanami even learns your coffee order at Starbucks- extra vanilla syrup, always, because you're still young and believe sweetness won't hurt you. When the barista flirts with you, his jaw tightens, the way his hand tightens around his own cup. You thought at first that it was just anger, irritation at the line, but-

"Jealous?" You ask as the two of you exit the store, sipping your drinks.

"Why would I be jealous?" He responds coolly, even though his heart is hammering. He keeps trying to tell himself that this isn't an exclusive thing, even if he does call you his pretty girl while you bounce on his cock. It isn't exclusive… even though he bought a new bed to accommodate both of you. A king sized bed, the most comfortable one in the store, because his favorite thing is watching you fall apart beneath him, above him, against him… falling asleep with your scent in his lungs, waking up to your sleepy smile…

You're free to date whoever you want… but the thought makes his stomach churn…

"Beeeecause~ the cute barista was totally hitting on me," You grin, "He even gave me his number on the napkin."

"Oh?" His tone is disinterested, but his jaw ticks, and there's something dark in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Yeah, see," You show him the napkin, and sure enough, the guy had wrote his name and phone number, and-

Nanami stops.

The napkin even has a little note scribbled at the bottom, a flirtatious one saying, Call Me Anytime Cutie ;).

And that's when Nanami snaps.

He drags you back to his car, his grip bruising, and when you look up at him with those big eyes, lashes fluttering innocently… the idea that someone else might touch you like this, might hear the noises you make when you're close, might get to see the look on your face when you come undone, and god, the way you say his name…

Fuck.

He doesn't want to share.

He's become possessive.

And that afternoon he proves it. Has you bent over the hood of his car in the parking garage, splitting you open with his cock while he growls about who you belong to. Your pussy gripping him like a vice, your juices running down the car and dripping onto the cement below as he fucks you harder than he ever has- condom threatening to split around his cock with every thrust.

"Y-Yes!!!~♡," you sob, because it's true. Because somewhere between the first time he made you come and now, you became his completely.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One morning Nanami comes home after his run, a rare day off, and finds you sitting at his table in the kitchen, dressed only in his button-up, the one he wore to work the day before. Yout hair is still sleep mussed, your favorite mug of his in your hand, and its like his breath leaves him, his heart hammering against his ribs, because for the first time in a long time… Nanami Kento is happy.

He loves you…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here like this- wife like and wearing his shirt. Greeting him each night he comes home late… 

Shit…

Nanami Kento was completely and utterly in love with you.

The realization hits him like a truck, and his mouth at that moment goes dry.

As you turn to him, eyes still sleepy, he also realizes he wants to memorize this moment, to preserve it forever- the early morning sun casting a beautiful glow on your skin, the soft curve of your bare shoulder. 

"Mornin', Kento," you smile at him, and he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hide this from you any longer. 

"Come here," 

"Mm? What's up?"

"Just-" He can’t speak, not properly, so he grabs your wrist in the most gentle way he can manage and tugs you from your seat, pressing you flush against his body, his hand finding your cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip.

"K-Kento, what are y-"

"I love you."

Your eyes widen, lips parting, and for a second he’s terrified. Worried that this will change everything, and then- 

"I-I love you, too. I just-" You look away for a moment, the sweetest blush spreading across your face- your smile the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, "I just didn’t know how you would- I didn’t want to scare you away…" 

God, you could never scare him away. Never. And a part of him hated himself for ever making you feel that way. That the only reason you didn't tell him is because you thought it would drive him away. 

"I love you," he breathes again, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his forehead pressing against yours, "So much. You could never scare me away, darling."

The kiss that followed was everything he's ever wanted. Soft, sweet and loving- everything a first kiss should be, and when the two of you part, he whispers your name against your lips, as if trying to reassure himself that this was real.

That night he takes you in his arms, carrying you up to the king size bed so that he can show you just how much he loves you. To show you just how serious he is about you. 

"No condom tonight," he whispers in your ear, his arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pulls back to look at your face. 

"Mn," You nod, "Sounds fun~, but you know I’m-"

"I know… You're not on the pill," he interrupts, the corners of his mouth quirking up, "but we'll just have to deal with the consequences, won't we?"

The consequences… 

He’s never sounded so happy about anything. 

"I want to feel you," he breathes, rolling his hips, slowly, deeply, tenderly as he nudges against your entrance, "want to fill you up properly… Make you really mine," he kisses your cheek, "Make a family."

"Ahhn~♡," the moan that is drawn from your lips as his cock sinks into was music to his ears. No latex, no barrier between your bodies, just thick, bare cock spreading you open. It was indescribable- the way he filled you up, the heat of his length, every vein and ridge rubbing deliciously along the sensitive walls of your pussy. 

"God, you're perfect," he groans, and when his cock kisses your womb, his hips twitch involuntarily. The thought of his seed flooding your deepest parts was far too alluring- painting your walls white, coating the entrance of your womb, the image of your belly round and heavy with his child making his cock throb inside of you.

"Please~♡" gasping as he fills you completely- not just with his cock, but with the promise of something more permanent. 

He cums inside you that night, and every night after, marking you as his in the most intimate way possible. 

This started with divorce papers and whiskey, but it had become something else entirely. Something that tastes like forever and feels like coming home.

[wosospacegirl]

Mallorca- Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia ruins your couple's vacation by inviting the girls to tag along with you. You decide to make her pay for it.

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: (+18) a little bit of smut, suggestive; fingering (r giving)

A/n: because I'm a whore

..

You were going on a vacation to Mallorca with Alexia.

She had promised she would take care of everything: the hotel, the flights, the yacht, everything. 

She told you not to worry about a single thing. So you absolutely didn't. 

You just made sure to stay pretty, to pack the smallest bikini you had, to pack the strap, the lube, and the handcuffs into your bag.

Alexia had grinned while watching you pack. She came from behind, biting your earlobe and promising she would worship you every day of the vacation.

That she would put you in so many positions you wouldn't even remember all of them.

She said she would eat you out on the private beach she had booked.

That she would finger you in the middle of the ocean, have your mouth wrapped around her strap on the sun deck of the yacht.

You trusted Alexia deeply. So you thought she would keep her word.

Your face fell flat the second you arrived at the airport with her and saw not only Patri and Ona, but Jana and Bruna there too, suitcases in their hands and bright smiles on their faces.

You couldn't help but feel confused by the coincidence. 

They were travelling too? To Mallorca? Wow. Small world, right?

You were hesitant as you greeted the girls, but you did your best to be nice. They were, after all, your and Alexia's friends.

"I'm so excited!" Jana said as the little group made their way toward the flight. "It's been so long since I had a vacation."

Alexia's hand was on your back, but she was weirdly quiet. Too quiet.

"Oh yeah," you said, watching Alexia out of the corner of your eye. "You guys totally deserve this vacation. The season was really hard."

"Definitely," Patri said, smiling at you, the sound of her suitcase wheels somehow managing to irritate you. "I can't remember the last time we had a vacation with all of us together!"

You stopped in your tracks. Alexia bumped into you, her hand catching your waist so you wouldn't fall.

"Ay, amor," she said grumpily. "Qué fue?" [Love, what's wrong?]

"What do you mean… 'all of us together', Patri?" you asked in a very calm voice, very deliberate.

"Umm…" Patri looked at Alexia, then back at you.

"Us? Like me, you, Alexia, and the girls? We were so happy when Alexia called and asked us to tag along, it's hard only seeing each other at training…we need some quality time together as a team"

Quality time together as a team?!

Your world shattered right in front of you. 

You always thought people were being dramatic when they said they saw red when they were angry.

But you were definitely seeing red now, maybe because the capillaries in your eyes were expanding as your heart started hammering against your chest.

You felt your nails digging into your skin as you turned to Alexia.

"I think I'll go to the bathroom before we board," you said, not looking at anyone as you left your suitcase behind and walked off. You didn't even know where the bathroom was, you just…walked.

You just knew you needed to be alone, or else you would scream at Alexia in the middle of a crowded airport, and you didn't want to make a scene.

Alexia clearly didn't realise that you wanted to be alone for her own well-being, because she followed you like a puppy.

"Amor…espera, por favor," she said, walking after you. [love, wait, please]

If it were you, you would be out of breath by now, but because Alexia was annoyingly fit, her breathing and tone were perfectly normal.

She also caught up faster than you would have liked, her hand wrapping around your wrist as she pulled you into some corner of the airport.

You were alone now, but it felt like the room was crowded because the air was thick.

It was hard to breathe, like your lungs were collapsing. You often felt that when you held your anger in. It hurt your chest.

So you decided to snap, finally.

"What is your problem?" you asked, furious.

Alexia didn't even try to defend herself. Guilt was scattered all over her face as she leaned her back against the wall, her hands were still holding your wrists.

You didn't like being restrained (not like that), so you tried to set yourself free, but she didn't budge.

"You said it was an us vacation. As in, you and me, not you and your teammatmes."

"Lo siento…" she said, pouting in a way that made you want to bite her lips off (not romantically). [I'm sorry]

"I asked Patri for a cool hotel to stay in, and she asked why, and I told her we wanted to go on a vacation," she explained, as you kept trying to set yourself free.

"Then she said she and the girls were also planning a vacation there, and she looked so excited, and I didn't have the heart to tell her not to join us."

You didn't bother to answer Alexia.

In the end, you walked back to where the girls were still standing, waiting for you and Alexia to return. If they noticed anything weird between the two of you, they didn't say a word.

The flight was annoying.

Nothing bad happened.

There wasn't a crying infant. No kid was kicking your seat, and the food was actually good. But you were still so mad that you couldn't see anything good about it.

Alexia kept quiet–she was smart when she wanted to be.

She did, however, try to keep her hand on your thigh for most of the flight.

Every time she did, you would take it off and place it back in her own lap without saying a word. Without giving her any sort of attention.

When you got to Mallorca, you were still silent.

You only spoke to the other girls, asking Jana how she was doing, asking Bruna how her season in London was.

You didn't even bother to grab your suitcase or any of the other bags.

Alexia walked behind you like a camel, slower than everyone else, because she was carrying all the weight, but you didn't care.

Alexia had ruined your vacation, and you were going to make her pay for it.

Day One.

You arrived at the hotel. And of course, there were problems with Jana and Bruna's room.

In the end, Jana had to share the room with you and Alexia for the night while the staff sorted it out.

The lights were already off. Alexia was lying on the left side of the bed, and you were on the right.

You made sure to build a pillow wall between you (to Alexia's disappointment) to create some distance. 

At one point, Alexia tried to sneak a hand onto your waist, but again, you gave it a little snap, and she retreated to her side of the bed with a quiet whine only you could hear.

Jana was curled up on the loveseat on the other side of the room, wrapped in a duvet.

Even in the dark, you could see the guilt written all over her face.

"I am so, so sorry," she said, her voice slightly muffled by her pillow. "I told the staff I could sleep in the lobby, but they said they couldn't allow it."

"It's okay, Jana, don't worry about it," you said, closing your eyes, trying to forget this whole trip was happening.

You should have listened to your sister. You should have gone on a family vacation. At least then, you wouldn't have created so many sexual expectations that were clearly not going to happen.

Now that it was night and you couldn't distract yourself anymore, you realised you weren't just annoyed.

You were sexually deprived.

You hadn't had sex with Alexia in two fucking weeks because of her stupid football calendar.

You had had to make do with your hand most nights, and it absolutely wasn't the same.

Now you were stuck on an island with Alexia and her teammates, and one of them was literally sleeping in your room.

You were just a girl with needs!! It was only fair that you felt this way.

The room was silent for a while, and you thought you might finally be able to sleep.

You even prayed that you would have a sex dream… Maybe then, you would get to experience some kind of sexual activity on this supposed vacation.

But apparently, Jana was not done making her point.

"But really," Jana continued, "I'm very sorry. If I knew the bugs in my room's mattress would mean I would be intruding on your and Alexia's privacy, I would have just slept there."

"With the bugs?" you asked, a bit grossed out by the idea.

"Yes," Jana replied seriously, as if she were ready to make that sacrifice. "I'm so, so–"

"Jana," Alexia said sternly, "shut up, please."

You felt yourself getting wet at Alexia's tone.

You liked it when she was stern. You liked it a lot. Although, of course, you weren't going to say it.

Day 2

You were at the hotel's pool.

Alexia was lying on the sun chair beside you.

She looked so incredibly delicious in her orange bikini that you wanted to put your mouth on every inch of her body.

You wanted a taste of her, and by the way she was looking at you, she wanted it too.

You watched as Bruna, Ona, Jana, and Patri played some kind of pool game; they were splashing water around and laughing like little kids.

That was when you felt Alexia's hand slide onto your waist.

In one swift motion, she pulled you into her chair, your was back pressing against her chest as she peppered your neck with light kisses.

It was intimate but not scandalous.

"Estás tan guapa," Alexia murmured in a low voice. "Muy, muy guapa." [You look so pretty/very, very pretty]

You hummed, tilting your neck to the left to give her more space. You felt her grinning against your skin.

"Fui una idiota por invitar a las chicas," she added. "Lo siento por eso." [I was an idiot for inviting the girls/I'm sorry for that]

You wanted Alexia so much.

There was nothing you wanted more than to grab her hand, drag her back to your shared hotel room (thankfully, the staff had fixed Jana's room situation that morning), and finally get Alexia all to yourself.

But no.

You couldn't get her off that easily.

As if Alexia were just an annoying little bug on your neck, you stood up suddenly, pulling her hands off your body. And, without a word, you threw yourself into the pool, completely ignoring her.

Alexia stayed behind in the sun chair, looking confused, but you didn't care.

You swam straight toward the girls.

"Are you guys playing Marco Polo?" you asked, wiping water from your cheeks. "I wanna play too."

..

You all decided to go out and eat at one of those restaurants on the beach. 

You and Alexia got ready without saying a word. Well, Alexia tried to talk to you. You just weren't the one responding.

You were putting blush on when Alexia apologised for the ninth time that day.

"I'm sorry, bebé," she practically whined, which was a great contrast to the way she looked.

She was wearing a long, white dress, and her hair was in a bun. She looked deliciously mature.

"I'm not talking to you," you said, not even glancing at her reflection in the mirror as you continued to do your makeup.

"But it's our vacation," Alexia said. "You can't be mad at me forever."

"Not forever," you replied, putting on some red lipstick. "I'll be mad for the number of days I find necessary."

Alexia went quiet again, and you continued to get ready.

You put on your earrings, then your necklaces.

You were too preoccupied checking if your dress matched your silver accessories to realise Alexia had once again pressed herself to your back.

"Me gusta cuando te pones así, tan brava," Alexia whispered, her lips brushing soft kisses along your jaw. "Me pone tan mojada." [I like when you get mad/It makes me wet]

She took your hand and slipped it under her dress.

Your breath hitched when you felt the warmth of her inner thighs, and then she lifted your hand even higher, until you were cupping her cunt.

Her bare, very wet and very warm cunt.

"Te quiero tanto ahora, amor," Alexia said, pushing your hand further inside until your fingers were inside of her. [I want you so much right now, love]

You slid one finger in, then another.

You wanted to pull away (no, not really), but you couldn't take your eyes away from the mirror; you couldn't look away from the way Alexia's face was filled with pleasure behind you, as if she needed this.

Maybe she wasn't the only one who was sexually frustrated out of the two of you.

You started moving your fingers deeper each time, reading her expression to know what she needed.

If the frown between her brows tightened, then you would slow down, but if her mouth fell open, you would push in deeper.

You angled your fingers slightly, hitting that spot inside her that made her hips stutter, that made her sound a little less dominant, a little more dumb, a little more helpless.

"Por favor…" she murmured, her lips brushing the back of your neck. "Lo necesito…" [Please/I need it]

"I'll get you to the edge," you promised her, "but you're not gonna cum. Not tonight."

"No," Alexia shook her head as you pushed your fingers harder. "No, por favor…"

"Shhh," you whispered. "Enjoy it, baby."

Whenever you felt Alexia contract around you, you'd pull your fingers away, taking them to your mouth.

You would lick them clean, tasting her sweetness, then you would slide them right back inside her.

You edged her more times than you could count. You even felt a little sorry for her.

When her makeup was a complete mess on her face, and when tears began falling from her eyes, you finally decided to put a (partial) end to her misery :)

You pulled your fingers away completely without a warning. Alexia whined, but you didn't put them back this time.

You let Alexia lean against your back. Her thighs were still shaking.

You turned around and kissed her face, her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.

"Later," you promised. "We'll go to dinner, you'll behave, then we'll come back to this hotel and you're gonna fuck me with the strap until I drench the sheets, okay?" You took her jaw into your hands, making eyes contact with her.

"Yo–amor!" she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. "I need to cum."

"And then I'm gonna fuck you so good I'll have you squirting all over me. How does that sound?" 

Alexia looked at you with those soft hazel eyes.

"Sounds great, mi vida," She said, sounding a little dizzy. "Anything you want."

..

Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16 , @wosohk04 , @evaissleepy13 , @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e @liloandstitchstan @s0ciety-cxv @dfwspky @karmajn @awosofavs @wosofavfanfics

A/n: 😝😝😝😝😝😝

[billysgirllol]

“son of a whore, that’s what you said, guy.” lucy gray amusingly corrects, pointing to him. “i know you don’t, that’s why it makes a point when you do.” she amusingly adds, hearing him go from zero to hundred is always impressionable. she shoots up right from her sticky seat when the boat finally comes to a stop, grabbing her bag back where she was previously sitting earlier then taking off to keep up with billy. her shorter legs quickly catch up, flip flops squeaking, gently tapping his back right as he slips off, asking for help off the boat and onto the dock all while ensuring him and pat still don’t start wrestling.

crossing her legs, folding her hands in her lap, billy still ranting in anger… lucy gray lets him because how valid when she too feels the exact same kind of anger. but one of them has to be the level headed one as usual in these situations when one of them is losing their minds, so it’ll be her. feeling the hesitance roll off him when his arm barely curls around her seat, she takes it and puts it around her shoulders herself, holding onto his hand to make sure he still doesn’t go anywhere. “son of a WHORE?” lucy gray parrots accidentally a little too loudly, head tossing back as laughter sounds from her. “interestin’ what happens when billy gets mad.” he comes up with his own curse words and it sets her loose in unhinged amusement.

[norcigs]

TEACH YOU

synop: rough jealous sex! very little plot, mostly just p0rn

warnings: charles is pretty mean, pnv, creampie, face fucking, use of slut, bitch, whore, toy and more.. dom charels, sub reader, spankings!, lot of degrading, some praise, aftercare!!!!

🛁: 4.8K words

you were being bratty. you knew that, you saw the way his jaw locked in place and eyes cut over you. you were pushing the line, and not letting up. charles hooked his pointer fingers in your belt loops on either side, pulling you flush against him. whispering something before he kissed the top of your head. 

“if you keep acting like a whore, i'm gonna start treating you like one” he leaned into your ear, before he planted a punctuated kiss to your head, for any onlookers to be fooled by the intimacy. 

did he think purring in your ear like that was gonna have you backing off?.. it only made you want it more. thighs clenching as you looked up at him with big wet eyes. 

“what do you mean baby” you asked, as your voice towed the line between peace and war. batting your eyelashes, begging him to crack, to show a hint of the blaze behind his sugarsweet exterior. 

unfortunately for you, charles didn't need much convincing. hand reaching around your jaw, gently, but demanding. jerking your gaze back onto him, as he pulled you in closer. 

“dont act fucking dumb with me” his tone was laced with venom, as warmth spread from your crotch. he moved his hand to rest at the small of your back. not speaking, but still telling you, stay. 

the party roared around you, your short red dress, floating against you. charlie's white shirt, wrinkled and top button undone now. people danced and shouted, but there was a stillness around you both. charles, all but twitching, as he waited for you to place the final straw. he could tell you whatever he wanted, praise you, degrade you, anything to make you act right. but both of you knew your mind was made up. you wanted to be taught a lesson, and he was just the guy to teach it. a guy walked toward you, definitely drunk, but carrying a cockiness that made him insufferable. 

“hey pretty lady, is this guy your boyfriend” he slurred. charles' hand was still resting on your back. you leaned into him like he was familiar. his hand locked around your side, claiming. eyes darting to you, knowing before you responded, that you were not going to pass up an opportunity to piss him off.

“depends who’s asking” you responded, more for charles than anyone else. the answer was a resounding yes. the hickey he left on your ribcage last night, and the thin silver 16 necklace around your neck was proof enough. charles was your boyfriend, you belonged to him. no amount of teasing or flirting would change that. 

the drunk guy took your response as an invitation. his hand raised towards yours, in an act to maybe pull you away. your hand didn't move to him. that wasn’t the game you were playing. charles’ hands dragged from behind you, around to rest on your stomach, encapsulating you. he leaned over your shoulder to speak to the man. hands only keeping you more flush to him. you rolled your hips against him, just in case you weren't already in enough trouble. 

“trust me mate, you couldn't handle her” he told the guy, smirking like he had already won. really, he had. you two had an unspoken understanding of what it meant when you acted like this. it was never a betrayal of trust, nor an excuse for you to stray from him. sometimes, you just wanted him to fuck you with the possesion and boiled-blood only this behavior gave him. as the drunk walked away, not daring to tempt your boyfriend again, he dropped his head to your ear, kissing behind it.

“follow me to the car, dont say a fucking word until i ask you too,” he seperated from you, quickly spinning on his heels and walking out. his weight against your back missing made you feel hollow, and gave you an itch only he could scratch. 

he didn't turn around, didn't wait for you, didn't slow a step. he walked to the car and sat in the driver’s seat. your heels clicked behind him as you tried to match his longer stride. he started the car without opening your door, or even glancing towards you. for a split second, you thought he might drive off and leave you there, wet and wanting.

when you sat down, dress riding to just below your crotch, you leaned toward him. warm hands wrapping around his bicep, needing to touch him. you pulled your face to his arm, kissing the top of it, sweetly. eyes staring up at him like he was heaven.

“sit still and dont touch me” he said, short, as he peeled your hands off himself. dropping your hands back to your lap, he finished “bad girls like you have to be punished”. his hand snaked around the back of your neck, as he found a grip that made you complacent to how he turned you. twisting you to look right up at him

“do you understand that, slut?” his eyes were dark as he searched your entire face for any glimpse of hesitation. unsurprisingly, he was met with your mouth parting, eager, and your head nodding hard enough to bounce your breasts. 

the ride home consisted of you pushing your hips into the seat, and doing anything for charles' attention. pouting and whining when his gazed stayed straight forward, unimpressed by your begging. 

parking the car in your driveway, he got out and muttered a quick “follow” to you. you listened, desperate to get inside so maybe he would finally touch you. he continued up the stairs toward your bedroom, as you turned to lock the front door and scurry up with him.

“baby, are you upset with me, i didn't mean–” regret pooled in your throat as charles had never used the silent treatment after you teased him. usually, he would take you to the club bathroom and turn you into mush as he ruined you. ruthless, fast, and mean. but this was different, this was calculated.

“didn't mean to what?” he cut you off as you stepped into the bedroom behind him. “didnt mean to act like some cheap fuck for any guy who stared at you?” he scoffed. “it seemed pretty intentional to me baby, and now you have some apologizing to do” he finished as he stepped towards you, closing the door behind you and keeping you surrounded against the wall.

he put both his hands around your neck and pulled you into a kiss. controlled by your throat, you had no say in how he kissed you. taking whatever he gave you, as your head had already started to go a little fuzzy. one hand moved to the back of your head, hand fisting your hair before he was pulling you down. he leaned over as you landed on your knees. 

“been running this fucking mouth all night, gonna show you what it’s really good for” he told you, hand reaching to his belt, unbuckling himself. ripping down his black slacks, and pulling you up enough to be level with his cock. 

he kept one hand in your hair, and used the other to free himself. moaning as you made eye contact with his cock. his grip hurt, but your mouth was watering. it was big, and heavy, and he popped it against your chin with force. 

“open bitch,” your jaw slacked as he didn't waste a second before filling your throat with his length. your throat was wet and greedy, sucking instantly. he grunted as he angled his hips to fit fully inside you. you were gagging around him, tears already stinging your waterline.

“is this what you wanted? wanted my dick as close to your brain as possible? so it could teach you your fucking place?” he mocked you, as he used his hands to pull your head on and off his cock– using you like a toy. 

he laid the back of your head against the edge of the bed, lifting a foot to be level so he could pump himself down you with more force. hips snapping back and forth, his tip bruising a place in your throat you didn't know existed. 

you clenched your hands and thighs together. staring up at him as he took what he wanted from you. tall and strong, head tilted back like he was in another world. his hands wrapped around your head, guiding you, felt oddly gentle now. your cunt leaking as you thought about how safe you were. he could be as rough as he wanted, you could fall apart for him completely, and the whole time you would never have to worry, it was still your charlie. your throat relaxed as you thought about how much you loved him.

“thats my girl, just let me use you” his head was still tipped back, but the way his dick was twitching you knew he was close. your tongue started doing what little it could to make it feel better for him. licking and suctioning anytime you could while he fucked your throat for just his pleasure. his mouth parted as noises fell softly from him. 

your hands raised to his, his eyes shot back down to you at the softer touch. your doe eyes looking up at him like he was everything. he let his hands go from where he was using them to fuck your face, as you gently guided them back. you continued sucking him at the pace he had set. too hard, and too deep for how you usually liked it. but it was driving him crazy so you weren't going to stop now.

“fucking slut-” his words were long, drawn out like moans. “my fucking slut– all mine, you belong to me” his hands clasped behind his back as he only bucked softly into your begging throat, while you did the rest of the work for him. stood towering above you, like a statue, as you knelt before him, like something to be owned. 

he grunted and bit his lip as hard as he could. his hips snapped forward as he kept his eyes trained down onto yours. you felt his whole length twitch before wet hot spurts were coating your throat. his hand reached back around to rest on the top of your head. he slowed your pace, only letting you bob gently, as he worked through his high. eyes shutting, lost in the moment. he blinked them back open to see you still staring at him wide-eyed, with your hands on his thighs keeping his cock as deep as possible. lips puckered perfectly around his length like you were made for it. pleasure surged back through him, sending a shiver down his spine. one last rope hit the roof of your mouth, before he was pulling you off completely.

spit connected his cock to your mouth until you pulled away far enough for the strands to break. you sat back on your ankles, gazing up at him, drunk in love and lust. he sat on the edge of the bed, and used the back of your head to guide your mouth to his. kissing you gently, like even after that, he could break you. the kiss held an unspoken tenderness, one that said, i love you and i trust you. 

he grabbed your arms and guided you to crawl up to him, then adjusting to pull on your waist to help you up higher. the kiss began to blur from sweet promises to heated passion. he held your weight as you sat above him, straddling his waist. the kiss was messy now, teeth clacking and spit still resting on your chin. his hand found its way back to your scalp, clenching a fistful and pulling your head down. breaking your lips apart, and exposing your neck. his lips found your sensitive spots instantly. 

“should leave dark marks on you hm?” he questioned between kisses, “so people can see what a nasty girl you are?” he continued as his fingers found their way to your still covered core. “parade you around the paddock? my pretty little girlfriend, who just lets me use her like a fleshlight? is that what you want, baby?” he finished, mocking, looking at you with the same stupid innocence you gave him earlier tonight. 

you were whining into him now. the need to be fucked out weighing any attitude you had left. 

“tell me what you want” he whispered against your skin, taunting you. you curled into him, getting any amount of closeness and friction you could. 

“you charli, want you” you pouted and looked at him with gentle desperation. his hand wrapped back around your throat and pulled your lips just millimeters from his.

“dont use that sweet little name, i told you what happens to whores like you. you wanted this” his voice was sharp, hands rough against you. but somehow, his eyes were still so caring. you nodded pathetically as you dropped your head to his shoulder. he pulled the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. letting it drape around you and lifting your tits out from behind the fabric. he pulled the bottom of the dress up to rest around your waist. your garment bunched into a belt now, he didnt bother pulling it all the way off of you.

your panties showed as he exposed you to him, red lace, breath leaving his mouth before he could catch it at the sight of you. pulling them to the side, he ran his fingers through your folds, never filling the emptiness. 

“soaking fucking wet and i havent even touched you yet” he told you as your cheeks flushed. “does sucking my dick really get you this hot, bitch? or do you just like pissing me off?” you wanted to respond, wanted to shave a little cockiness off of him. but as you opened your mouth to retort, he dipped his fingers inside you. all that fell from your plush lips was an uncontrolled moan. 

“yeah? you got something to say?” your hips were rolling, shaking your head no, as you didn't dare do anything to make him want to take his fingers out. riding him, leaking on his fingers, as he was barely one knuckle deep inside of you. 

“all fours” was all he said as he lifted you to the spot of the bed next to him. knees resting right on the edge of the bed, back arching as you rested on your elbows. he stood behind you, feeling his warmth and stature radiating against your skin with the close proximity. he stared at your heat as you clenched around nothing, waiting. pushing your hips back as it ached to be so empty. 

he slapped your ass, the sharp sting shooting through you as his hand soothed the red mark. you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet, failing. the flash of pain returning as he reddened the other cheek.

“how many do you think you deserve, baby?” he stepped closer to you, dick standing straight up and bumping against your clit. his voice was tempting you, basking in the pleasure he got from making you choose your punishment.

“five, five charles please” you said as you struggled to even keep yourself on your elbows. fists clenching around any bedding they could as you desperately tried to keep yourself from falling apart. the slapping noise was louder this time, so was the strangled moan it pulled from you. it hurt more, longer, hitting the same spot he had before. his hand did what it could to soothe you, rub the pain away. but as his left hand connected harshly with the opposite side of your ass again, your moan was unmistakably pained. stinging and sharp, a softer moan following as he gripped the skin of your butt tight. 

“taking your spankings so well, being so good for me” he praised you, knowing just when you needed it. keeping you stupid, and rutting against his dick. “can you take your last one honey?” he asked you, voice tender now. he was really asking, you could say no, you knew you could. beg for mercy and he would give it to you, no further questions. he would continue passed it, not letting it ruin the moment if you couldn't. never wanting to hurt you anymore than you asked him to. 

“please” was all you muttered as you arched your butt further up to him. the cutting sound and pain followed, softer this time. not noticeably, not unless you really knew charles. 

“thats my girl, shh, i know baby” he coaxed you. his hands rubbed at your skin gently. your moans were more sobbish now as the pain slowly weakened against your burning ass. 

he grabbed your waist, demanding, controlling, pulling you flush against his front. your cunt parted as his dick made room for itself. separating you, but not filling you. raising your hips ever so slightly so your clit would grind against the veins of his length. 

“tell me what you need, tell me who you need, slut” his voice was a ragged whisper. your whole body burned. heat radiating off of you from the inside out. the rush of dopamine feeling overwhelming. your head was spinning as you kept wrecked cries from leaving your mouth. you felt it start to hurt. the emptiness, the need, the want, the itch that covered every part of your skin he didn't touch. 

“you– ple– please fuck me” tears streamed down your face as you lost control. it was overpowering. you wanted to turn around, fall to your knees, and cry for his dick. you wanted to tell him you couldn't live without it for one more second. every nerve in your body alight as he hummed softly to you. 

he pulled back from you, separating just barely. you felt your throat open, ready to sob, before you could he plunged his cock into you, bottoming out immediately. the noise that was pushed from you was one of pleasure, or relief. they were so blurred together you couldn't tell the difference. he stayed still, for just a moment. a breath long enough for you to adjust, prepare. then he pulled halfway out and snapped his hips back against you with force. 

you extended your arms, not capable of staying stable on your elbows. pushing your own face down into the mattress. this time, he used his hands to push your form forward, his tip just barely feeling the cold air before he pulled you back, rough.

the noises were perfectly disgusting. the wetness of your cunt squelching around him. the clap of your hips reconnecting. the way you moaned, charles would describe it as fucking angelic. him grunting behind you as your pussy sucked his cock like it needed it. 

completely arched down, charles moved his hands to rest more on your lower back and hips. he used you for leverage. you held a majority of his weight as he pulled his cock and bottomed out with speed and strength. the rhythm was blistering. fast, hard, fucking, not making love. it would hurt tomorrow, but it felt too good to think about that right now. hell, you wanted it to hurt tomorrow. 

“who’s pussy is this” he asked you, trying to hold back the purrs that threatened to fall from his own mouth. he moved his hand to the back of your head, turning you to look sideways. you could see him now, just out of the corner of your eye. he could see your face, see just how gone you were. smiling as you faded in and out of reality, thinking solely about his cock pumping in and out of you. his words finally made their way into your fuzzy head.

“is y-yours, always yu-rs” you slurred, eyes rolling gently as you let it all go. charlie wasn't sure if that went more to his dick or his heart. either way, he was now completely focused on making you cum around him. still using your arched back as leverage, he kept rutting into you relentlessly.

he angled his hips just slightly, perfectly adjusting for his tip to land right on the spot that makes you– you were screaming into the mattress. walls fluttering around him like his dick was made to fill you. knocking against the spot that drove you crazy, he watched as everything else left. all that was in your pretty little head was him, his dick, and pleasure. 

you clenched around him so tight, it was making it hard to pull out. your cunt was pulling him in, and keeping him held there. he used his hold on your hips to pull and push you onto him. it helped with the movement, but the suction your hole had around him was maddening. 

you bounced back and forth at charles’ mercy now. your body was limp, moldable to whatever he wanted. like the only muscle you had left was your tight fucking cunt. every part of you shook as he all but ragdolled you against him.

you opened your mouth to speak, to warn him. but the way you were gushing and clenching around him– he knew you all too well. his tip punished your sweetest spot. a bundle of nerves so deep inside you, somewhere only he could touch. 

“i know baby, cum for me, show me how pretty you are when you fall apart” he told you. not needing you to waste any amount of thought on telling him what he already knew. 

you tipped over the edge, as he collided with you again, deep and hard, he watched as you found the top of the climax. he couldn't help himself. pulling his hand back and spanking you one more time. the noise was harsh as the sweat on you and his hand aided it. the pain sent you tumbling off the peak before you had any say in it.

your eyes squeezed shut as every muscle in your body lit on fire, clenching up and relaxing entirely. your vision went hot and white behind your eyelids. your ears rang and your mouth dried up. like all of your other senses had shut off completely. like you were controlled entirely by your cunt, and by charles fucking in and out of you. 

his thrusts were shallower now, gentler. he worked you through it. feeling the pleasure pour through you when he brushed against the spot he had been bruising. he tried– really tried, not to finish until he milked every drop of pleasure out of your orgasm. but the way your pussy was begging him to fill you, he couldn't deny it any longer. 

you felt the surge of warm, stickiness coat your insides. another wave of pleasure washing over you without warning. like charles finishing sent an entire other orgasm crashing through you. you shouted his name like it was the only thing you could remember.

as euphoria drenched all of him, he kept rocking you back on him, coaxing you both. skin buzzing, brain fuzzy, you lazily fucked against him to take everything he had to give you. slowly, you both came down, as charles pumped into you a few more times. the remaining pieces of your orgasm raked through you, sending shivers to different parts of you, until his cock had rubbed every itching nerve satisfied. 

your walls squeezed him barely as he left his length inside you while you both caught your breath. his hands were soft now, distinctly different from just moments ago. he leaned over you fully, letting his weight comfort you, ground you, pull you back to reality. brushing your hair to the side and kissing your shoulder so sweetly you could taste it. 

“that’s it pretty girl, did so good for me” he whispered in your ear from behind you. hand rubbing and squeezing your sides. “took me so well, made me so proud” he continued as you finally found the strength to raise your eyelids. you blinked, heavy and slow, as a whine escaped you. his cock resting against bundles of nerves that felt overstimulated now. even as he was softening, he was still too big for your aching pussy. 

“you ready?” he asked you. genuine, eyes searching. he didn't want to pull out abruptly, didn't want to empty you until you were ready. until you had come down enough to decide when his missing member wouldn't hurt more than it filling you.

“mhm” was all you had in you, as your tight suction relaxed and loosened around him. he dragged out gently, both of you mushy and softening. he rolled you over on your back, as delicate as you imagined an angel might. he returned to laying on you, giving just the right amount of weight to ground you but not overwhelm you.

he tucked his head into your neck, smiling against your soft skin. light kisses scattered across the area and trailing to your collar bones. you watched him, lazy. eyes full of love, admiration, and most importantly, trust. 

“i love you” you told him, dreamy and blurred. his heart swelled as he pulled back to look at you. how beautiful you looked now, messy and taken. every inch of you was soft and longing to be held. an ache opened in his chest as he watched you. his beautiful girl. 

“i love you, doll” he responded, accent heavy as the tiredness set in. “wanna shower? or just wipe off?” he questioned, not wanting to push you past where you wanted to be. 

“jus sleep” you said as he smiled at you, so in love. he wanted you to be relaxed and comfortable. but he cared too much about you to let you go to sleep like this. he kissed you once more, soft, spit connecting you both as he pulled away.

deciding for you, he stumbled to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cool water. grabbing a dry towel as well. he returned to you, pouty, missing him. he grabbed your pjs, something comfy, light and loose. 

something between protective, nurturing, and caring flushed charles skin as he knelt down to clean you up. you were exhausted, half asleep as he pulled you to sit up. using the dry towel to wipe your skin down, taking precaution not to be too harsh with the rough towel. he knelt down to your most intimate area, still radiating heat. 

“this is gonna be a little cold, bubba, ill be quick” he said as he separated your knees and kissed the inside of your thigh. hissing as he used the wet rag to wipe your leaking and sore pussy. wiping you clean like you were a piece of fine art. detailed and delicate.

he pulled your panties up, cute pink ones with a little bow on the front, soft and silky as to not irritate your skin anymore. pulling his tshirt over your head, you giggled to each other as your arm got caught in the wrong hole. 

throwing on a pair of shorts and using the dry towel to wipe himself down, not at all minding your sweat mixing with his. he was finally able to crawl into bed with you. you were very sleepy, lulling into a drowsy state each time charlie looked away from you. 

he pulled your form up to his, laying your head on his chest and pulling your knee to have your leg over him as well. his thumbs drew light patterns and shapes on your thigh, as he pulled the covers over you and let you sink into his comfort.

“you okay baby?” he asked you, you didn't need to talk much. he just wanted to be extra sure you were as happy with tonight as he was.

“better than okay, you're pretty good in bed” you joked, tired, but cheeky. he laughed, honestly. mainly it was air escaping his nose, but his smile was big and you could see the white flash through the dark.

“i love you baby” he told you as your breathing slowed. he repeated it a few more times as you fell softly into the embrace of sleep. when you were drifted off entirely, he allowed himself to follow you. eyes heavy as the sound of your heartbeat was echoing around his head, as if it were his own.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Whole Damn Night: Charlie Reid x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging:@kmc1989 @littleesilvia @wrestlequeen @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @beebeechaos

Summary: You aren't anything like Charlie expected.

Companion piece to:

Charlie - Charlie meets someone unexpected one night at his pool hall.

Prequel to:

Risk Management - Charlie realises the two of you have been keeping secrets from one another.

Deals With The Devil - Charlie's fall from grace starts with an act of love.

The Ghost That Lingers In The Nighttime - Charlie's becoming accustomed to the late night visits.

Charlie fully intends to have HIS wicked way with you, to lie you down amongst his sheets, to take you apart piece by piece. Instead he finds the tables turned as he’s pressed into the mattress underneath you, naked, desperate, needy.

He expected it to be quick fuck but you’d slowed it right down once you got into the bedroom, taking your time to undress him, to savour him. The whole thing short circuits his brain because Charlie can’t remember the last time someone treated him with such tenderness. His encounters are always rough, nails scratching down skin, teeth biting but this…

He doesn’t know what this is.  

“I think you need to be taken care of.” You tell him as you pick up the glass of whiskey off the night stand. The burn cascades down your throat before you scoop out an ice cube and place the glass back where it’s meant to be. “I think you talk a good game but secretly you’re a little touch starved.”

He responds with a grunt as you run the ice across his chest, lightly caressing his nipples until they stand pert. You lean over, your mouth ghosting over one of them, the warmth of the whisky making his fingertips dig into your thighs as you straddle his waist.

“Fuck.” He whispers as you guide the ice cube lower, tracing delicate patterns over his abdomen. Your tongue follows, licking up the droplets left in its wake, his hips arch as your teeth nip over that tender spot, the one that makes him moan like a whore. You pop the ice cube into your mouth, crunching it between your teeth before you dip your head, sweeping your tongue across that tiny bead of pre-cum before you envelop the tip completely. Your cool tongue swirls around the head as you draw him deeper, immersing him in that sensation.

You smile as you pull off, reaching for the whiskey glass. You take a decedent sip before you go down on him again and the contrast of that heat against the cold, it has him teetering on the edge, hands tangling in your hair as he fucks up into your mouth.

The ecstasy crashes through him in waves, each one building and building until he hits that peak, hurtling over it. He comes in long, hot spurts, blowing his load into his mouth as you swallow around his cock, drinking down every drop. He collapses back into the mattress, his entire body relaxing as you pepper his thighs with a thousand tiny kisses, each one a ray of sunshine blossoming across his skin.

His hand smooths  over your hair as your cheek rests on his hip. “That was…  I have no fucking words.”

You laugh and it’s a beautiful sound that lights up something deep inside of him.  

“Come here.” He whispers patting his chest and you kiss a trail up his body until you nuzzle his throat. His fingers dips into the whiskey glass, retrieving his own ice cube as he uses the palm on your ass to guide you higher up his body until your breasts are right there, just waiting for him to get his mouth all over them.

He traces the outline of your nipples with the ice cube, bringing them to attention before he sucks one into his mouth, tongue lapping over that sensitive bud. He can feel your wetness dripping onto his navel as you start to grind against him, trying to get a little friction. His chilled fingers delve between the two of you, tracing light circles over your clit. You keen for him as he bites down lightly on your nipple, his fingertips slipping inside of you, pumping gently.

“Fuck Charlie, I need…”

He knows exactly what you need. His fingers wrap around his cock, guiding it to just the right place before he eases inside of you. His molten heat mixed with that cold, it drives you fucking crazy. His arm encircles your waist, keeping you close as he shifts into a sitting position. Your thighs hug his hips, his cock pressing deeper, right against that sweet spot.

“Eyes on me sweetheart.” He whispers, his thumb trailing along your jaw, tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. “I wanna see everything.”

He starts to thrust, hard, shallow strokes that make your breath hitch and your skin flush. You look stunning in that moment, like an angel sent straight from the heavens to save this wretch of a man. He chases your ecstasy, fucking harder, faster, until he can feel you tightening around his cock, gripping him so damn hard as you hit nirvana that he can’t see straight. The intensity of your orgasm rips through him, his mouth covering yours, drinking down your pleasure as he climaxes for the second time tonight.

His palms chase over your skin, roving over your curves, keeping you anchored as his forehead rests upon yours.

“I never do that.” He whispers, his cock still twitching inside you. “I don’t fuck bareback…”

“It’s alright.” You tell him, your fingers combing through hiis unruly, steel curls as you try to catch your breath. “I’m on birth control and I had a clean physical last week.”

“Same.” He murmurs as he plants tiny kisses along your jawline, teeth grazing that naughty little spot just underneath the hinge of your jaw. You clench around his cock and he smiles as his warm breath teases your ear. “You gonna stay a minute? Let me ruin you again?”

“I knew you weren’t a one and done kind of guy.” You whisper as your head tips back, your hair spilling across your shoulders.

“Oh honey.” He purrs as he tumbles you back into the sheets with him. “With me you get the whole damn night.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[gojover]

[5:37 p.m.] ⋆ “you… want me to teach you how to french kiss?” atsumu repeats, blinking once, then twice, certain he’s not heard you correctly.

you cross your arms, trying to look unfazed. “it’s not that weird.”

“it’s so weird,” he says, but there’s a faint blush creeping up his neck. “what—why me?”

“you’re good at it,” you say with a shrug.

atsumu squints at you. “yer just tryin’ to butter me up.”

“i’m not! it’s just… factual. you’ve dated more people than i have. you’re… experienced.”

“you tryin’ to say i’m a whore?”

you grin. “i mean, if the shoe fits.”

“okay, fine, whatever,” he huffs, running a hand through his hair and trying to calm the rapid staccato of his heart. “if you’re really serious about this—and i’m not sayin’ you should be—i guess i could, y’know, demonstrate.”

“so you do want to kiss me,” you say.

“no—i mean—yes—but not—ugh. shut up.”

you’re already laughing as he leans in, awkwardly at first, one hand hovering between you like he doesn’t know where to put it. his breath is warm, and faintly sweet with a hint of mint gum. you smell nice, he thinks. like strawberries and peaches.

“wait,” he says. “do i, like, need a whiteboard? a diagram?”

“oh my god,” you mutter, and tug him by the collar, knocking your nose into his in the process.

the kiss is messy—your teeth knock a little, and one of you exhales through your nose too hard—but it’s warm, and slow, and so full of laughter you barely notice. you’re smiling into it, noses bumping again, lips parting just enough to find a rhythm.

the second attempt is smoother. atsumu’s hand finally settles on your waist, and your fingers curl in the collar of his shirt. this time, when his lips slot against yours, he deepens the kiss: a soft pull, a tentative brush of tongues, the kind of touch that makes your knees feel like jelly. it’s warm and curious, slow in the way that makes time stretch a little.

when you pull away, atsumu’s pupils are blown wide.

“i think i need a refresher,” you say innocently.

“god help me,” he mumbles, leaning in again.

[luxcuriousao3]

This is incredibly self indulgent. Not proofread, literally typed it up on tumblr when the thought struck me.

-

Virgin Simon Riley, who at his big age, has never got past second base. The closest he's come to sex is porn and the shite he's heard squad mates say during his army career. So when the two of you, after having taken it slow, finally fall into bed together, he does what he's been led to believe girls like--namely choking you and degrading you--even though he himself is downright turned off by just the thought of hurting you or saying a single cruel word in your direction. But he is so, so desperate to do this right, to please you so you never even suspect he's never done this before and go running for the hills. Except the second his hand wraps around your throat, your expression turns terrified, and you grasp at his hand, squirming beneath him as you try to pull it away. He doesn't even get to finish calling you a dirty whore before he's letting go and scrambling away from you, the look on his face mirroring yours. He's fucked up. He doesn't know how, but he's fucked up majorly. There are tears in your eyes, and your whole body is shaking as you pull the blankets up to cover yourself. He feels like his father. He thinks he's going to be sick.

"Wh-why-- what-- what the fuck?" You gasp, lips trembling as the tears spill over. There's anger around the edges of your fearful expression, now. "What the fuck! Wh-why did you-- you didn't even f-fucking ask! What the fuck, Simon!?"

You're crying in earnest by the end of your tirade, and Simon is panicking, afraid to touch you and make it worse, but unable to stand just sitting there and watching you cry. He creeps closer, murmuring a stream of apologies as he does, feeling far too exposed with how naked he is.

"I-- I d-don't-- I d-don't like that shit!" You half yell, half sob once he reaches the end of the bed. "I'm n-not a fucking whore and h-hate being fucking choked! Wh-why did you do that?"

"I-- I thought," he stutters. The big, bad Simon Riley, stuttering. Bloody hell. "I thought that's what birds liked..."

You glared up at him with eyes, clearly not believing him.

"What, every single girl you've been with has been some ultra-kinky nympho that wants you to choke them out and spit in their face the first time you have sex?" You scoff. "There's no fucking way."

Simon was terrified he'd lose you if he admitted he's never slept with a woman before, but now, it seems like that's the only way to convince you he's not some piece of shit that can only get off by hurting his partner.

"I've never..." he swallowed, sitting down in the bed and staring at his hands, unable to look at you. "I've never had sex before."

There's a long silence, and when he does chance a glance at you, he sees your fear and anger has been replaced by shock.

"You're a virgin?" You ask loudly, and he winces, ducking his head in shame, but he nods. "Christ. Then what-- where did you even learn about the-- the choking thing? And calling me a dirty whore?"

Simon winced, hearing the hurt still lingering in your voice, his shame growing.

"M'not some porn addict, but I've-- I've watched it here and there, over the years," he said quietly, the tops of his ears burning. "Every video I've seen has had that, and the birds, they all-- they all were inta it. And my squaddies, they... well, lads talk. They were always bangin' on about their girlfriends liking it rough. So I just thought-- I thought that's what ya would want."

"You didn't consider, I don't know, asking me?" Your reply is sharp, and Simon hunches his broad shoulders, curling in on himself. He feels so fucking stupid. He let his fear of rejection get in the way, and instead of looking like a fool, he looked like a monster. A monster that hurt you. Even if you manage to forgive him, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to forgive himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and he sounds pathetic even to his own ears. "I'm so fucking sorry, lovie, I swear ta God I never wanted ta hurt you. I didn't even like doin' that shite, makes me feel like my bloody father. Never want to be like him. I just-- just wanted ta please ya. Make ya feel good."

You sigh, and Simon's sure you're about to tell him that the two of you are over. But instead, he feels your hand on his shoulder, and he looks up, startled. You've got a conflicted look on your face, and he doesn't move, not wanting to interrupt whatever decision you're mulling over.

"I'm still mad at you," you finally say. "You really, really scared me, Simon. And you hurt my fucking feelings. But I-- I also still like you. A lot. So... I'm going to give you another chance. Just one. If you fuck up like this again, we're done."

Simon straightens up, eyes wide. He can't believe what he's hearing. He opens his mouth to thank you, tempted to get on his knees and kiss your damn feet, but you hold up a hand, cutting him off.

"And we can't pick up where we left off, either," you continue. "You broke my trust, and that's going to take time to get back. I'm certainly not going to be comfortable having sex with you anytime soon. But if you can accept that... then I won't leave right now and never look back."

"I can accept it," he says immediately. "I'll do whatever ya want, lovie. Whatever ya need. Don't care how long it takes-- only care about you."

Your expression softens a little at his earnest words.

"What I need right now is some space to get dressed," you answer. "And then I'd like to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. I just-- I want to be touched gently, right now."

Simon nods, standing up and grabbing your clothes to hand them to you. He grabs his own as well and goes to step out of the room. But before he does, he turns to look at you one last time.

"You're not dirty," he says, thinking you might need to hear him say this, too. When your eyes tear up again and a vulnerable expression crosses your face, he knows he's right. "An' you're not a whore. You're beautiful, an' smart, an' far too bloody kind. You're fuckin' perfect, lovie. An' I'll do whatever it takes ta make ya believe that again."

"Thank you," you sniffle, and he gives you a half smile before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. He quickly gets dressed and queues up the new movie you've been talking about seeing, before grabbing a pint of ice cream from the freezer. It's your favorite flavor. He'd popped out to the shops to get it before you came over.

Simon knows how lucky he is that you're giving him another chance, and he's going to do everything in his power to deserve it.

[loveroffemmes]

Pathetic | Jealous! Shauna Shipman x Fem! Reader

warning: smut, degradation, slight cnc

summary: shauna can't contain how jealous she feels and just has to have you right now.

Shauna grabbed my wrist, “I forgot my water in the locker room!” She yelled to Coach, “(Y/n) did too!” Her nails dug into my wrist as she dragged me to the locker room despite my many protests. 

“Fuck, Shauna, what is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who can’t keep her eyes off of Jackie.” 

“Jackie? I was not looking at Jackie.” 

“What is it about her that you like so much?” Shauna shoved me, pushing me against the lockers. 

“You’re insane.” I hissed and Shauna smirked. She stepped closer to me, her hands reaching out to grab my hips as she forced me to stay pinned against the lockers. 

Shauna’s hands moved up my shirt, her nails dragging against my skin – she wanted it to hurt a bit, a reminder not to look at someone else. Her hands slipped underneath my bra, grabbing at my chest with such roughness that I would not be shocked if her fingerprints were bruised into my skin, “Admit it, you were checking her out. I saw your eyes linger.” 

“I was not–” Shauna cut me off by pinching my now hardened nipple between her fingers, “I hate when you lie.” She mumbled, her hands going back to groping my chest. 

Shauna’s eyes never left mine as her hands moved back down to the waistline of my shorts. She pulled at the string on them, waiting for me to say something about how close she was getting to touching me. When I didn’t speak; one of her hands moved to my face, the palm of her hand resting against my cheek as her thumb gently caressed my bottom lip, “When you fantasize about the two of us – is the sex better with me or with her?” Shauna’s tone was so light and casual, it did not match her question at all. 

“I don’t fantasize about Jackie!” The palm of Shauna’s hand moved from my cheek to my lips, pressing down so I couldn’t speak. 

Shauna faux-pouted, “If you’re just going to lie about it, then I don’t think you should really get to talk at all.” Whatever protests left my lips were muffled by Shauna’s hand over my mouth. She smirked at me, seemingly delighted by how much her hand silenced me. 

Shauna’s other hand broke past the waistband of my shorts and pushed past my underwear like her hand belonged there. Her fingers brushed over my clit and I unconsciously bucked my hips into her hand, but the sensation only lasted a few seconds as her fingers pushed through my wet folds, lining up with my entrance and ignoring my aching clit, “Try to keep quiet, we wouldn’t want the whole team to find out what a whore you are.” Two of her slicked fingers pumped into me and I moaned against Shauna’s hand, “Oh, getting loud?” She teased, “Maybe I should uncover your mouth so everyone can know what a slut their teammate is. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Shauna’s fingers sped up, barely giving me time to adjust, “Oh?” Shauna smirked, “You’re tightening around my fingers whenever I call you a slut – do you like it when I say that? God, you’re fucking pathetic.” The bony part of Shauna’s palm pushed against my clit as she worked her fingers into me, it gave me just enough pleasure if I rolled my hips. Shauna’s head dipped down, right against my ear, “You look so pretty like this.” She groaned, “Moaning and drooling against my hand like a fucking slut.” I shuddered as the feeling of her breath against me. 

“Did me calling you a slut get you close?” Shauna cooed, laughing – the worst part was that she was right, I could feel the heat in my stomach pooling with each insult. “Are you going to cum, (Y/n)?” I nodded, desperately grinding into Shauna’s hand, “So fucking pathetic.” Shauna curled her fingers and dug her palm further into my skin, finally giving me the perfect amount of pressure on my clit. I moaned into Shauna’s hand, my back arching against the cold lockers behind me as I felt my orgasm ripple through me. Shauna’s eyes watched as I unfolded, basking in the effect she had on me. The way she looked at me made me shiver – it was like I was prey that she had just captured. Shauna’s fingers lazily pumped into me, helping me come down from my orgasm, “Just like that, (Y/n).” She whispered as she watched me. 

Once I stopped shaking; Shauna pulled out her fingers and brought them to my face, showing me the wetness dripping down her fingers. She removed her other hand from my mouth and the second I opened my mouth, Shauna’s fingers were inside of it. She had a cocky smirk on her face as she wasted no time thrusting her fingers into my mouth, “C’mon, don’t resist, don’t you like how you taste on my fingers? Tell me. Tell me how you love having my fingers fuck your mouth.” Shauna moved her fingers out of my mouth for a moment while I panted. 

“I-I love your fingers, Shauna…I love h-how I taste on them.”

“Pathetic.” Shauna said with a grin. 

masterlist

[lostbookmark]

MNDI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, Use of words, slut and whore. Sexual Harassment, talk of prescription pills. nightmares

A/N: Another filler chapter, another step closer to Yoongi learning her secret!.

“I think I'm going crazy,” Yoongi says, staring at his phone as he relaxes back on your couch for the night .

“What?” You ask, looking over at him.

“I think I need my glasses,” he says, squinting his eyes and you move closer to him on the couch cushions to look over his shoulder. “Is this your name on the sign up page for the mid-season banquet?”

“You're an ass,” you say, getting off the piece of furniture and stomping your way into the kitchen.

“I'm sorry,” he laughs, getting up to follow after you. “I'm just in shock. You're WILLINGLY going to volunteer, or did the mom's guilt you into it? Did they find out you're not actually a widow, and are they making you do it?”

“I did it all by myself,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yoongi's mouth drops open just a bit, and then a look of smugness crosses over his face after a moment. Reaching out, he places his hand on the counter by you to lean into you.

“Did I give it to you that good the other night?” He smirks. “Does my dick hold that much power?”

You scrunch your face and lift your hand to his covered chest to where his nipple is located and effectively twist it. He swears lightly and covers the aching area as you glare at him.

“I'm just trying to support you,” you tell him. “You and Nicky, but if my efforts are just going to get me made fun of, I'll just take my name off of it.”

You reach for his phone, but he quickly holds it above his head, out of your reach.

“I'm sorry,” he apologizes again. “This is just…. unlike you.”

“Yeah, well…,” you drift off and look down at the floor. “I just want to be better for you.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” He asks, bending slightly to look you in the eyes, and you just shrug one of your shoulders. “No, that's not good enough. Talk to me.”

“I just did a lot of thinking after meeting your friends…,” you start, but the look he shoots at you makes you stop talking.

“What exactly did you and Yeri talk about?” He questions.

“Nothing,” you lie, licking your lips, and it makes him smirk.

“WHO did you and Yeri talk about?” He asks, rephrasing his question.

“Well you clearly already figured it out,” you snap. “I'm sorry if I'm trying my best to be nothing like her.”

“You don't even have to try,” he argues. “You are nothing like her. I just don't want you signing up for things and being miserable.”

“But, I WANT to support you,” you promise him. “Just because I don't care about basketball …. I still care about you and Nicky.”

Yoongi wraps his arms around you and lifts you up on the kitchen counter. Looking at you more comfortably, he tucks some hair out of your face as you try not to look affected.

“I know you care about me,” he insists. “I also know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I'm not going to force you into things that make you uncomfortable. Banquets with the parents will probably be a nightmare for you.”

“Do you want me there?” You ask.

“I always want you there,” he answers.

“Then I'm going to be there,” you say, and Yoongi looks down at his phone again with a smirk.

“Can you even bake?” He questions after checking what you signed up for once more. “In the few months we've been together, I've never seen you bake a single thing.”

“I'm going to make my mom do it,” you inform him. “She loves doing that shit.”

“That's more like it,” he laughs, grabbing your face to mold your lips with his.

“Can we talk about no kissing in the kitchen?” Nicky says, pushing past the two of you to get to the refrigerator. “You're going to ruin my appetite.”

“You know you have been getting pretty mouthy lately,” you tell him, still sitting on the counter. “I don't like it.”

“I wonder where I get it from,” he says sarcastically, making you pull a face.

“I am not mouthy,” you argue and Yoongi snorts, causing you to shoot a glare his way. Fine, I am mouthy but you need to knock it off. It's not cute when it's aimed at me.”

“Then who can I aim it at?” He asks, and you turn your eyes to look at your boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims, making you laugh. “Why are you ganging up on me?”

“Better you than me,” you answer, shrugging, jokingly.

“You know,” he says, leaning in close to your face. “There are still several open slots on the volunteer sheet for the banquet. Thank you for signing up for them.”

Yoongi smirks at you and unlocks his phone as you stare at him in disbelief. Nicky laughs as he carries on his mission to find a snack. You look between the two of them in a panic, not knowing if he was joking or not.

“You're joking, right?” You ask. Yoongi just smiles at you before walking away from you. “He's joking, right?” You ask your nephew who shrugs. “Yoongi, are you joking?” Hopping off the counter, you run out of the kitchen after him “YOONGI!”

“Cheesecakes, cookies, brownies, sheet cakes, mousses are all acceptable forms of desserts,” soup mom informs you.

“Yes, nothing that melts,” pizza dough mom says. “We can keep things warm, not cold.”

“Yeah, thanks for the advice,” you say, trying to scooch past them to enter the gym.

“I have a lot of recipes if you need them,” chicken parm offers. “BUT … it's okay if you want to use your own, of course.”

“I have it covered,” you say, backing away slowly. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

“Oh also,” soup mom continues. “Our mid-season banquet is pretty dressy.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head like you knew that. “Yeah I knew that. I'm good to go! Thanks for all your help, ladies.”

Hitting the gym doors with your back, you finally enter the gym and drop the fake smile. Walking quickly over to Mark, you sit down and watch the boys stretch on the floor. Yoongi and Jungkook both stand together, heads together, going over something in a huge white binder.

You sigh in defeat.

“How dressy is dressy when it comes to this banquet?” You ask, your friend.

“A suit and tie dressy,” he answers.

“But for me,” you specify. “What type of dress do I need?”

“One you wear,” he answers, not helping you at all.

A whistle blows, and all the boys line up against the wall. You bite your lip and try not to laugh out of panic. A dress you wear, he answers. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Half way, back, all the way, back,” Yoongi instructs. “Dribble the entire way. If you lose control of your ball, it's a hundred push-ups. Do you understand?”

“Yes, coach,” they all answer in unison.

A dress you wear!

You're screwed.

911

You texted him fifteen minutes ago as you paced around your bedroom. You were so caught up in your stress, Yoongi scared the hell out of you when he came bursting into your bedroom, looking out of breath.

“Are you hurt? Is Nicky hurt? Who's in the hospital?” He asks all at once.

“What?” You ask, clearly confused.

“What?” He asks back.

“No one is hurt,” you say, shaking your head.

“What was the 911 for?” He asks, and you take his hand, pulling him to sit on your bed. “Did you have me rush over here so we could have sex?”

“You wish,” you say, moving to your closet and opening the door. “The banquet is less than four days away. I didn't know it was like … DRESSY. I thought it was only like a little dressy, but it's like DRESSY! ”

“You should really read things,” he stresses. “We use these banquets to teach the boys to be… professional and proper off the court. The parents need to set the perfect example of that.”

“I have NOTHING, Yoongi,” you say, taking a stack of hangers in your hands. “I have nightclub dresses that I use for free drinks,” you tell him, tossing the garments at him. “I have the dress you had a feast in.”

“Oh, I remember it fondly,” he laughs, catching the dress once you throw it at him.

“I have…” you start.

“Where the hell is the rest of the dress?” He asks, snatching the neon cutout dress from your hand.

“That's it,” you say.

“It's literally just strips of fabric,” he comments as he holds it up to inspect it. “There is no way this covers anything.”

“It covers enough,” you say, waving his concern away. “Then last but not least. I have a funeral dress.”

He looks up from your party, girl days, dresses to your black mourning dress, and shakes his head. Dropping the dress from your hand, you groan and fall face first onto your bed. Yoongi tucks his hands underneath you to turn you over to look down at you.

“I'm failing at this supportive girlfriend thing,” you say. “A good girlfriend would have been prepared. I should have a ‘mom’ dress, but no. Nope, I have slut and sluttier. How does it feel to be dating a whore?”

“Stop talking about yourself like right now,” he says, seriously. “You can get a new dress in time. I don't give a shit what you have in your closet.”

“Yeah right,” you say, sitting up to hold up the barely there neon cut-out dress. “You should have seen the look on your face when you saw this dress.”

“Yeah, because I kind of want to fuck you in it but … I'm a gentleman,” he says and you lightly push at his arm. “I'm serious though. I don't care about these dresses. They don't bother me.”

“I might have to miss a practice to go shopping,” you warn. “I can't miss work. Elly is training me to take over for her when she's gone on her honeymoon.”

“I can watch after Nicky,” he says like it's the most casual thing.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” you say, tapping him on the nose. “That would be suspicious. I'm sure my dad can take over for me.”

“They are going to have to find out eventually,” he says softly. “I don't want to hide you forever.”

“I know,” you agree. “I just want to cause problems for you.”

“You won't,” he promises. “I've told you before we know what the problem would be and if she tries something … she's gone.”

“Can we just,” you pause to think for a moment. “Make it through the season first. I don't want … us… to affect Nicky and his relationship with his teammates. I don't want anyone to think he gets special treatment because we're together. ”

“I get it,” he tells you, cupping your cheeks. “Get your dress. I'm sure whatever you get, you'll look great in it.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Now,” he says, picking up your little neon number. “Why don't you put this on and show me exactly what this covers.”

“I'm a parent now,” you tell him, taking it from his hand and standing back up from the bed. “I can't wear things like this anymore.”

“But…” you shake your head no stopping him.

“Sorry,” you shrug. “Guess, you should have met me like …. a year ago,” you tell him.

“That's not my fault,” he argues, standing up and stalks up to you, making you back up into your dresser. “Try it on for me.”

“Nicky is awake,” you push at his chest weakly.

“There's nothing wrong with just trying a dress on,” he informs you with a smirk.

“Thank you for your help, Coach Min,” you say, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “I think it's time for you to go.”

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder in defeat, causing you to laugh. This is what he gets for payback for scaring you about signing you up for more banquet shit. Revenge is so sweet sometimes.

“Here,” you say, handing Nicky a tinfoiled dish filled with a mix of chocolate chip and sugar cookies as you grab the other two pans of brownies and mini cheesecake cups. ‘I have the other two. Let's go.”

Carefully, you shut your car door with your hip and cautiously maneuver around the parking in your heels to get to the Heritage Center. For a ritzy building in a small town, their parking lot had pot holes the size of craters that was just waiting to take you down.

“I still have to pretend like you and coach aren't a thing, right?” He whispers.

“Right,” you confirm, walking stiffly. “How's my dress?”

“Nice, I guess,” he says. “It's a dress.”

“All you men are all the same,” you grumble as you make it to the building and climb the stairs. Pushing against the door, you and Nicky enter the historic building, and suddenly, once again, you feel as if you don't belong. The moms, who you only know by nicknames, all seem to be wearing black dresses that hit well below the knee. A few of them turn to look at the two of you, and you see how their eyes take in your lacy top burgundy dress that well, hits … above the knee.

“Oh, no,” you say more to yourself.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you smile at him. “Let's figure out where to put these.”

“It's further inside. I remember from last time when Uncle Chris and I were here,” he says and walks ahead of you, leaving you trailing behind.

As you walk further into the building, you enter the actual space setup for the dining area. Along the side, you see tables set up where you see covered dishes of what could only be food. Sighing with relief, he continues to lead the way over before you get cut off by Yoongi, grabbing both pans from your arms.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you,” you say, stepping away from him.

He walks over to the tables, placing the desserts next to the cookies Nicky just placed down. Your nephew, however, was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, you spot him with a couple of his teammates sitting at a table by the stage at the front of the room.

“You think you're funny, don't you?” Yoongi asks, suddenly serious.

“I don't know what you mean,” you answer, feigning innocence. “Could you explain?”

“The two pictures you sent me,” he whispers, hands in his hips.

“You're the one who wanted to see me in the strappy dress so bad,” you remind him.

“What about the second one?” He asks next, and you tilt your head in confusion. “A couple of those straps were pulled down.”

“Were they?” You question. “My bad. I guess I shouldn't have sent them to you right before I left the house.”

Smiling, you leave him standing there as you walk away in search of … well …. nothing. Walking back out into the sea of parents, you exchange what you hope were pleasant smiles with some of them as you find an empty wall to lean against. Pulling your phone out of your bag, you watch your surroundings out of the corner of your eye. Watching as the parents mingle amongst themselves, talking and laughing with one another. Spying, as arms wrap, loving around waists and eyes sparkle under the lights.

Something inside of you clenches.

You've never felt so alone as you do at this moment.

“Hey, there you are,” Mark says, coming up to you.

“Look at you, looking all dapper,” you say, putting your phone away.

“I see you found a dress,” he comments. “Been here long?”

“No, thankfully,” you sigh.

“Yeah, I just got here too,” he says. “Jun got here a bit ago with his mom and her husband.”

“That sounds fun,” you say sarcastically.

“You know it,” he responds, checking his watch. “We should head in. We can get a table in the back before they fill up.”

“Good call,” he offers his arm, smiling, you slide your arm through his and he guides the two of you back into the dinning area.

As the two of you head toward a table in the back corner, you notice Yoongi do a double take as he not so subtly watches as Mark pulls your chair out for you. It makes you feel bad. It really does. You know nothing is going on. Mark knows there is nothing going on. You'll just have to make sure Yoongi knows nothing is going on. Hopefully, you can corner him sometime this evening.

“Which one is she?” You ask as you sit, tucking your dress under you. He nods his head across the room to where a pretty woman sat with a man. Nodding, you clearly recognize his son talking to them before walking off and joining his friends. “Hmmm.”

“What?” He laughs, sitting next to you.

“She downgraded,” you tell him.

“He's a doctor,” he tells you, amusedly.

“OOOOHHH, she's a gold digger,” you say, nodding your head.

“I'm a doctor,” he says, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you really?” You ask.

“No,” he answers with a smirk. “I'm an electrician, but I scared you, didn't I?”

“You're so funny,” you say and nudge him with your elbow. “She's looking over here. I'm going to smile and wave.”

“Don't,” he hisses. “She'll know we are talking about her.” Lifting your hand, you wave, giving her your most dazzling smile. “You're ridiculous.”

“I hear that all the time,” you tell him as you hear your phone vibrate in your bag. Grabbing it, you unlock it, and immediately, your stomach sinks.

How's your date going?

“Damn it,” you say quietly.

“Yoongi?” Mark questions in confusion. “Why is Coach Min asking about a date?”

You flip your phone around quickly on your lap, hiding your screen, and you look at Mark. It's a look of pleading that he will drop the subject, but his look of confusion quickly turns to one of realization. “Oh my god. You and Coach Min.”

“Shhh,” you shush him. “Are you trying to start a riot? I can't run very fast in heels.”

“How long has this been going on?” He asks quietly as the other seats around you start to fill.

“A while,” you answer vaguely, and he shoots you a look. “Not long after he suspended me.”

“Damn,” he whispers. “Is that why Ara says he favors you?”

“She doesn't know,” you whisper harshly. “At least, I don't think she does. Also, he doesn't favor me.”

“I was just joking,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender.

The lights in the room dim as Yoongi steps up to a podium in front of the room. The light chatter in the room completely dies out as his presence demands everyone's attention. He didn't have to fight for their attention or their respect. He already had it. He earned it years ago, way before you, and you hope that you don't cause him to lose it all.

“Thank you all for coming here tonight,” he starts. “I wanted to start by congratulating the boys on an amazing season so far. Coach Jeon and I couldn't be more proud of how they have come together as a team to work as hard as they have. Next….”

“On a level of 1 to shit storm,” you whisper to your friend. “What would it be if our relationship came out?”

“Most won't care,” he whispers back. “You two have hidden it really well. However…”

“I know,” you agree.

“She can't go after the President's girlfriend,” he tells you. “But if looks could kill …. you'd be gone right now.”

Your eyes sweep around the room until they land on Ara and her husband sitting not too far away from you. It takes everything in you not to glare back at her. SItting up straight, you take a deep breath and try to focus your attention back on Yoongi, who was finishing his speech and making way for a guest speaker.

“It's none of my business,” he whispers. “But, did something happen between them?” You look at him, trying not to give anything away. “I always thought something was … off between them. She was constantly trying to be … I don't know … clingy, I guess with him, and I literally watched him run from her once before.”

“Don't make me answer,” you say, playing with your phone in your lap.

“Everything makes so much sense now,” Mark sighs.

“I didn't mean for this to happen,” you say. “I tried to scare him away, but for some reason…”

“I don't blame him,” he says. “I was going to ask you out, but you scared the hell out of me.” You laugh quietly at that. “Don't tell him I said that. He kind of scares me, too.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you promise.

“And so is yours,” Mark promises back.

Looking around the room, maybe Mark was right. Maybe the other parents wouldn't care that you and Yoongi were together. Maybe it would be freeing to let the secret out. Maybe you could have local dates instead of sneaking away after away games, hoping you don't get caught. It was a BIG maybe, but it was still a maybe.

Fixing your dress in the mirror, you walk out of the bathroom and head down the hallway, leading to the front of the building. It felt nice to get up and walk after sitting through three guest speakers and dinner. Unfortunately, you didn't get a chance to talk to Yoongi, and there was no way you were going to text him to knock it off about Mark. Texting can lead to miscommunication. It needs to be done in person.

“Well, hello again,” Ara's husband says, stepping beside you.

“What do you want?” You ask, crossing your arms and taking a step back from him.

“You don't need to be hostile,” he says, looking you up and down.

“And you don't need to be in my space,” you snap. “Go back to your wife.”

“Did Min not do it for you?” He asks with a laugh. “Moved on with Mark?”

“You can think what you want,” you say, turning away to continue your journey.

“Tell me,” he says, stopping you and backing you up against the wall. “After Mark, who's next, and where do I fall in your line up?”

You stare at him, jaw hard, teeth clenched.

“You'll never fall in my line up,” you grit out.

“Why's that?” He asks, leaning into, trapping you, making you almost feel claustrophobic.

“Because,” you laugh humorlessly, trying to calm your breathing. “Your dick isn't going to work.”

He raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Swiftly, you bring your knee up between his legs, effectively nailing him where it hurts the most. Dropping to his knees, he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat as you flatten yourself back against the wall, heart racing.

“What's going on over here?” Jungkook asks, jogging over to the two of you.

“Fucking bitch,” he coughs out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook says softly, touching your shoulder.

“He…. he…” you don't finish before you bolt down the hallway and out the main doors.

You run around to the back of the building and tuck yourself into a corner. The light brick catches the material of your dress as you hide yourself, trying to make yourself small in the darkness. You haven't felt like this in so long. Why did you let him get to you? You should be beyond this.

You need to focus.

You need to breathe.

In and out.

In and out.

You're not in danger.

You handled it.

You were never in danger.

You handled it.

Sitting on the ledge of the building, you rest your head against the hard, rough surface and take in the cold, evening air. You can't believe you ruined this night for Nicky … for Yoongi. Why are you such a failure? Why do you ruin everything you touch?

“Y/N,” Yoongi calls out, and you cover your mouth as the tears escape. “Y/N!”

You don't say anything. You need him to go away. He has many more important things to deal with right now. You didn't need to be his burden right now.

“Doll, where are you?” He asks, voice sounding closer. Your hitching intake of breath, giving you away, has his footsteps hurrying against the fallen leaves on the ground, making them crunch under his weight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him round the corner and push yourself further into the corner of the building. “Doll?”

“I'm sorry,” you say, weakly.

“What happened?” Yoongi asks, trying to pull you away from the building, but you shake your head at him so he stops. “Kook is dealing with Ara and her husband. He won't let me anywhere near that son of a bitch.”

“I'm sorry,” you say again. “I ruined tonight.”

“You didn't ruin anything. No one knows anything is going on,” he promises. “Everyone is enjoying dessert and talking. Now, what is going on?”

Yoongi takes off his suit jack and maneuvers it around your shoulders.

“He … called me a slut,” you tell him, not meeting his gaze. “He trapped me against the wall, asking me when it was his turn. So, I kneed him.”

“That mother fucker,” he spits out and stalks away from you.

“Yoongi, don't” you say, chasing after him. “Everyone is here. The boys are here.”

“I can't NOT do anything,” he says, continuing his journey back into the building.

“Yoongi,” you plead.

“Not this time,” he says, walking away from you.

Following after him, the two of you enter the building once more and enter a small room that you hadn't noticed before. Right away, you notice Jungkook getting berated by Ara while her husband stood there silently, letting it all happen. It wasn't until she saw you that she was ready to turn her fury to you, but Yoongi was ready.

“I have the code,” Yoongi said. “Let's bring up the security camera.”

“EXCUSE ME!” Ara snaps, stepping up close to him. “Are you calling my husband a liar? She threw herself at him, and when he turned her down, she attacked him.”

Yoongi pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side.

“Then the footage will tell us exactly that,” Jungkook says.

“No,” her husband says, pulling her back to his side.

“No?” Yoongi questions, running his tongue over his teeth. “Why not? If Y/N physically ‘attacked’ you unprovoked at a sports function, she will be kicked off the team. Kook, bring up the footage.”

“I said no,” he snaps. “Ara, get our kid and let's go.”

Her husband storms out of the room, and Ara looks furious as she watches him go. Turning back, she looks at Yoongi, and you swear you could see steam coming out of her ears.

“You better count your lucky stars that I don't kick you off the team for this,” Yoongi hisses at her.

“I didn't do anything,” she snaps.

“If I ever see your pathetic excuse of a husband anywhere near Y/N or my team again, you are gone, Ara.” Yoongi informs her.

“He should be allowed to see his son play,” she argues.

“And Y/N shouldn't be afraid that he's going harass her again for the THIRD time,” he growls. “I suggest you go get Jake, go home and think … really think if this is something you want to continue.”

“What happened to you?” She asks. “You changed after she came along. Things used to be so good around here.”

You put your head down at her words, unwilling to meet anyone's looks.

“Go, Ara,” Yoongi points to the door until she finally gives in and walks to the exit of the room. “Also, I think this is probably his last season.”

“Are you kidding me?” She glares at him.

“Players are complaining about him,” Yoongi tells her. “He doesn't want to listen or focus. He doesn't want it anymore. Frankly, I think we are all wasting our time.”

She stands there at the door and laughs, but clearly, it's not out of amusement. Looking over at her, you see her look between you and Yoongi as if she was trying to dissect what was going on between the two of you. Her eyes zero in on his jacket around your shoulders and it's as if realization sets in. Nodding her head, she leaves the room and leaves the three of you standing in an awkward silence as the door slams shut behind her.

Shit!

You think she figured it out.

“...... invited the whole team. So, can I go?” Nicky asks as you walk into your house.

“What?” You ask, clearly not paying attention to what he was saying. “I'm sorry. Can you say that again?”

“Are you okay?” He asks, throwing his suit jacket on the chair and kicking his dress shoes careless off.

“... Yeah,” you nod.

“You know my counselor at school says it's okay not to be happy all the time,” he explains. “You can even be happy, sad, and mad all in the same hour, and it's completely fine.”

“Well, are you happy?” You ask him, and he nods.

“Yeah, I'm happy right now,” he answers. “Are you happy right now?”

Pause.

Do you lie?

Fuck, you're tired of lying.

“No,” you whisper, eyes watering. “I'm not.”

Your nephew wraps his arms around your shoulders and gives you a pat on the head. You're not sure why, but it makes you laugh and cry at the same time. What did he become old enough to try and comfort you?

“And that's okay,” he tells you, repeating words he learned from his guidance counselor. “Now, like you always tell me. Go to bed, you need sleep.”

“But…” you try, wiping your eyes.

“Goodnight,” he says, dismissing you.

“Nice try,” you say, pointing your finger down the hall before you lock the front door and making your way down the hall into your own bedrooms. You look in the mirror hanging above your dresser and sigh. “It's okay. It's okay.”

It's still not okay.

It's never going to be okay.

No matter how much you lie to yourself.

Your wet hair hangs over your shoulders as you sit in the middle of your bed. Your look at the orange pill bottle in your hand. Sleep didn't come easy on nights like these. You haven't used the sleeping pills hidden away in your bathroom in forever. In fact, you hate them. You think that they make your nightmares worse. They make your monster in the closet seem all too real in those dreams. You would just rather deal with the insomnia, but tonight was … bad. It was just so fucking bad. You just wanted to sleep but you didn't want to risk it. You didn't want to risk seeing him … not Ara's husband but … him, Jay. Sucking in a shuddering breath, you lean your forehead against your hand, examining the bottle in your hands. Letting out a silent cry, you close your hand around the object. How can such a small object that will dictate how hellish your night will go?

“Doll?” Yoongi asks, coming into your bedroom. Your head snaps up, tears flowing down your cheeks, and knuckles white around that orange container. “Nicky texted … I used the spare key…”

“Yoongi,” you cry.

You don't even register that he moves from the doorway before his arms are wrapped around you and you're sitting in his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders tightly, pressing yourself as close as you could to him. You needed his warmth, that warmth you had at the bonfire. The one you had on the nights he spent the night with you. Your arms slide under his shirt, finding his bare skin, seeking his warmth there.

“Hey,” he says. You shake your head. He gently takes your arms and pulls you away from him so he can look at you. “Look at me, doll. What's going on? Kook said you looked scared and frozen earlier. Honestly, you scared me too … you still are.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper.

“What's this?” He asks, taking your occupied hand in his, opening it to reveal your pill bottle.

“I can't sleep sometimes,” you tell him.

“It's okay,” he tells you. “It happens. Sometimes, we need help to sleep.”

“No,” you shake your head. “You don't understand. They give me nightmares.”

“Doll, nightmares aren't real,” he says gently with a small smile.

“Mine are,” you whisper back, and his smile fades, staring at you seriously.

“Well,” he licks his lips and takes the bottle from your hand before placing it on your nightstand. “Let's try not using them then. Let's lie down, try to sleep, and see what happens.”

You move off his lap and watch as he lies down on his side facing you, waiting for you. Taking a deep breath, you lie down facing him, pressing yourself as close as you can get to him once again. His leg slides comfortably between yours, and your hand finds your way up the back of his shirt once more. Searching for that warmth.

“How long can we stay like this?” You ask, face pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Forever,” he whispers into the hair at the top of your head.

Closing your eyes, you finally feel that warmth and you'll be damned if your ever going to fucking lose it.

You're going to keep it.

Forever.

《Chapter 16》

Tagged Readers

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler @wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen. @yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 @jincapableoflove , @minghaosimp @redragdoll, @ot72025 @seoullove96 @our-cool-jenny @kam9404 , @momma1, @carolineesnell

@amarawayne , @militrybarbi @haileyborig, @bettytta , @ilikekpop-c

@mar-lo-pap , @lattejimin, @butterymin @thelilbutifulthings , @cannotalwaysbenight @notsooperfect @muchwita , @maryhopemei , @rinkud , @misfits1a , @ktownshizzle

[the-undeadwriter]

Hi, hope you’re having a good day. I wanted too request a yan! Batfam with a reader who just stays in their room 24/7 and makes art (could be painting,music,sculptures,etc.)

Hehe, this was fun to write >:)

Warnings: neglect, not really any yandere behaviour in this, reader is gn! Possibly part 1, we’ll see how I feel :)

Requests are open!

Art had always been something just for you.

Even before your mother had died, you spent most of your time drawing on whatever paper you could find, scribbling away with an odd assortment of crayons and pencils your mother had snatched from her job as a waitress.

After your mother had passed away, you threw yourself into your art. In your eyes, it kept you afloat, kept you from drowning in your grief more times than you can count. And, considering who your father was, you finally had the funds to use good materials.

Art was your therapy. Sculpting, painting, sketching… anything you could get your hands on.

You didn’t even really care that Bruce rarely spoke to you— you were too busy joining art competitions your school held. You were too busy sneaking into the music room and learning simple Melodie’s on the piano. Any anger, sadness or resentment you felt was channeled into your art.

You weren’t completely fine with being ignored— no child would ever be fine with being neglected— but you learned to deal with it. At least your method of coping wasn’t dressing up in Kevlar and fist fighting the mentally ill.

Besides, you weren’t completely alone! You had Alfred there to drive you to school, buy your supplies, feed you…

And, for a while, you had Dick. He was almost an adult, and angry at Bruce and the world, so you didn’t speak with him a lot… but he was there for a while.

Jason was the brother you spent the most time with. He was only two years older than you, bright and happy and there. He was a great muse, focus point, model, and brother.

When you made your very first sculpture, a little Robin, he kept it in his room. Showed it off to Bruce and Alfred and displayed it proudly on his bedside table.

Then Jason went away.

You stopped painting robins after that.

Your art took a turn then— no more vibrant colours. Jason had taken that light with him.

That little clay robin now sits in your room, high up on a shelf. Away from harm.

Tim came next, practically your age. He never acted like you were the same age though. He had this… air about him. Like he was more than you. You’re not sure if it was intentional.

He didn’t consider himself part of the family then. You can… somewhat understand his mentality. He was only there to keep Batman in line, not watch over the only biological Wayne child. You never even turned your gaze towards him with the intention to catalogue, analyse, or capture his image in any manor.

His run as Robin brought Steph and Cass in. Steph was… loud. Vibrant. Far too bright for your taste at the time. You couldn’t bear her attempts at friendship. You only made one piece when she was there— a sprawling city skyline, in hues of purple and black.

When she went away too, you added a single white dove in the foreground.

Cass, on the other hand, was much like you. Quiet. She, like you, had an eye for the arts, but her medium was through ballet and dance, unlike your paints and music. One day, you snuck into her practice and sketched her. Spins and jumps decorated the page you had brought.

You never let her see it.

Then, suddenly, Jason was back. But different. Changed.

He was taller. Stronger. Angrier.

You didn’t know it was him at first. When he finally came back, officially, he…

Didn’t see you. Not anymore.

He never asked about that little Robin sculpture. Never asked what your latest project was.

You were almost eighteen when Damian was dropped off at Wayne manor. You didn’t see him for a week after he arrived, too busy with a competition. When you did finally meet…

He attacked you. Pressed a sword against your neck and called your mother a whore.

You avoided him after that.

Dule was moved in pretty quickly after that, but you didn’t get to speak with him much. He was nice enough, and you knew he’d be a good hero. You just couldn’t bring yourself to get attached.

Then. You turned eighteen. Then. You graduated and got accepted into an arts university.

You made one final painting in the manor.

A gilded, golden bird cage. With broken bars and a missing bird. You left it in your room, for Alfred to find.

And then you moved out with the help of your friends. Moved across the city and into a dorm. Cut all ties with the Waynes.

You thought that was it.

You thought you were free.

You thought they wouldn’t care that you left without a word.

You were wrong.

[hedwig221b]

Hi!! Hope you’re doing well :)

Do you have any fic recs that have stiles’ name as Mieczyslaw or have his dad calling him mischief when he’s a kid? Not just the acknowledgment that stiles isn’t his real name but like fics that actually show his name and have people go “bro what???”

Hi! Hope you're doing good, too!

What's In a Name? by Rose235b

Derek finds a Polish baby names book and decides that his new goal in life is finding out Stiles' real name through trial and error.

Wake Up, Stiles

The pack finds out Stiles’ best kept secret: his real name.

What's In A Name? by AsagiStilinski

Stiles knew he wasn't human, and to be honest, he had known for a long time, he just had never been able to bring himself to admit it before... but now highschool was over, and he was determined to find out what he was, no matter where the journey would take him And it took him alright, it took him across the country, gave him information about his family and town histories, reunited him with an old freind, and forced him into an even bigger mystery (And he also had to deal with that stalker who wanted to have his babies but that's not important right now)

Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?” The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad. But she answered anyway. “Mischief.” Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted. “Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile. “I don’t understand.” “You will.”

Mieczyslaw Stilinski

He slowly turns around and looks at the thick paper in my hand. "Is that my birth certificate?" Or where Derek wants to know Stiles' name and it takes him a few tries to get it right. Kind of based of Sherlock when he's guessing John's middle name.

Say My Name by Dagontherocks, Desmenn

"Was that Polish?" Derek repeated, eyes glued on Stiles. He took another step into the room. Stiles tilted his head in confusion, his heart beginning to pound for an entirely different reason. "Yes, why?" he answered slowly. Derek's eyes flashed a brilliant yellow before he snapped his gaze up to meet Stiles. "Can we talk? Alone," he pressed out. Stiles just nodded dumbly, following in bewilderment as Derek hurried up the staircase and into his room. "If this is about me calling your sisters whores, it was just a joke," he began as the door swung closed. "You called my sisters whores?" he asked in confused amusement. Stiles scoffed and looked away. "No, I didn't call them anything," he lied. Derek didn't reply, just peered at the boy intensely. After a moment of silence Stiles started to squirm.

Of Soulmates, Pseudonyms and Misunderstandings by halcyon1993

Ever since he asked his mother why she had his dad's name tattooed on her left wrist, Derek has dreamed of finding his soulmate. There's only one problem—the name that appears on his wrist on his eighteenth birthday is something he can't even read.

Marked by Verya

The name of a person's soulmate appears on their skin, in that person's handwriting, at the age of twenty. Derek has been wondering for the past several years, what kind of name is Mieczyslaw?

[masterlist link]

[twstfanblog]

Idia x a reader who's an introverted shut-in nerd loser just like him...

SSR Connection

Idia x Reader (Could be read as platonic)

The prefect isn't entirely sure what any of the NRC teachers were smoking but they fucking wanted some. It wasn't even midterms, yet every class decided they would have massive tests on the same day. And to make matters worse, their gacha game was having its long-awaited event! The SSR of their dreams was finally in their grasp.

Normally, they'd be on their phone the entire day, even during gym if they could swing it. Grinding gems and completing tasks to roll for the new event.

But NO. They had to be 'present and engaged' with clases because every one of their teachers decided to fuck their life with big fat tests. The only glimmer in their mind was the fact Ortho was a dear friend. A dear friend who didn't have to participate in classes and was most likely in his brother's room doing a lot of nothing all day. So, with a barely functioning brain, they had raced to Ignihyde. Throwing open Idia’s bedroom door with a fast-forwarded explanation of what they needed the android to do. Simply use every gem to get the new card, and do their games' refuel battles to earn more.

They said that while throwing their phone at the flaming blue hair, before closing the door, no more than three seconds later.

And they survived! Every test completed and hopefully passed. They stopped at Sam's for a treat, seeing Ortho scanning the shelves, they called out.

"Ortho! Sorry about this morning. I was in such a rush, I must have scared you with how I busted in there."

"Hm? It's no issue, I suppose. But, what are you-"

"Today was wild. The baby midterms every teacher decided to give were brutal. But, I made it! Thank you so much for watching my phone for me."

"Prefect, I don't have your phone."

...

To say that the prefect started wailing was an understatement. Ignihyde was more blue than any other color of the spectrum. There's no telling if they tossed their phone at Idia or simply into an empty room in their panicked and sleepy state. Ortho was nice, guiding their weeping self towards Ignihyde and his brother's room. If lucky, their phone was just sitting on his bed or desk, untouched. If unlucky, Ortho was sure his brother would help locate the device.

But once they got to Idia's room, the housewarden barely acknowledged their entrance. He had his phone in one hand, the other typing on his keyboard as an emulator played on screen. Wires connected to the Prefect's phone.

"Um...Nii-san?"

"Good! Ortho, you're back, I need you to-" Idia turned, curling into himself at seeing another person in the doorway. He only grew more frantic in his typing at seeing who it was, "W-wait! I'm almost finished grinding! You can have your phone back after that!"

The prefect perks up, a small gasp escaping their mouth, "You had my phone all day?"

"Um...yeah." Idia looked between them and the screen before slamming a fist onto the desk, "How long have you been playing 'My Lovely Hero Academia'!?"

"A-a few months? Why-" They flinch as Idia swiped at his monitor, thinking that he was literally throwing it at them, only to see he sent over a holo screen showing the emulator display.

"How did you get Madame Justice!? I've been playing for literal years and I still haven't gotten her drop!"

The Prefect waves the screen away, raising an eyebrow, "Is...Is she rare? She's like the poster girl for the whole series, isn't she? She's got an SSR for every event, even if she isn't in it?"

"Yeah, you can get those, whatever. This is the launch day SSR! THE RAREST DROP IN THE GAME! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS!?"

"I...I got her in the starter pack? I didn't know she was so rare..." The Prefect folds their arms, mumbling under their breath, "They whore her out enough, I wasn't surprised when she showed up..."

"THE STARTER-" Idia just stand from his chair, rolling over and gripping the Prefect by their arm and tugging them back to the table of monitors, "Come here! What do you even do? Your cards are all shit but you've got rare SR AND SSRs out the ass!?"

"I don't know!? I just like the card art man!"

Idia picks up the Prefect's phone, pointing at it in barely contained anger, "You literally have my dream lineup and you've done nothing with them!"

"Well, I don't really like the main story, and the battle system is-"

"ANOTHER THING. You haven't played past the first arc of the main story!?"

"It's boring!"

"BORING!?"

Ortho watched from the doorway, looking between the two before slowly backing away. His eyes crinkled for a moment, though it was an argument, his brother was talking to someone openly. He could barely keep his giggle to himself as the Prefect had fully sat down, snatching their phone from Idia’s hands and pulling up a new app.

"Now, if we're talking interesting, you need to play 'Star-Trail Impact'-"

"By the Seven. Just BURN your money instead."

Ortho closed the door behind him, snickering into his hand, "I'm so glad my brother is making friends~!"

[megssandbox]

Title: “Look at You”

Konig x reader

The mirror’s fogged at the edges from your breath. The room is too warm — from him, from you, from everything he does to you. König’s massive form presses against your back, his gloved hand tangled in your hair as he pulls your head up.

“Eyes on yourself, Liebling,” he growls, voice thick with accent and something darker. “Don’t look at me. Look at you.”

You try to obey, even as your vision blurs from the sting of tears and the sweat sliding down your chest. He’s buried inside you, thick and relentless, hips slamming into you with punishing rhythm. You can’t think — you can’t breathe — without feeling him everywhere.

The mirror trembles with every thrust. So do you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans against your ear. “So beautiful. And you still can’t say it.”

“I’m not,” you whisper, almost too quiet to hear. Your cheek burns where his mask brushes against it. You’ve said it before — can’t. You don’t know how to believe it.

König’s thrusts stop so abruptly it knocks the air out of you. You whimper, clench around him involuntarily.

Then: “No?”

His voice is cold now. Not cruel — never cruel — but disappointed. He pulls out just enough to make you feel the loss, then drives back in with a snap of his hips that leaves you gasping. You brace your palms on the vanity in front of the mirror, but your knees nearly buckle.

“I’m not,” you say again, weaker this time. “I’m not—”

He pulls out fully this time, grabs your hip, and spanks you — hard. The sound cracks through the air, the sting blooming hot and fast across your ass. You cry out, more from surprise than pain.

“You are,” König growls. His hand comes down again. You jolt forward, breasts brushing the cold glass. “You’re going to say it.”

“Please,” you gasp, arching back toward him despite the sting. Your thighs are slick, your pussy aching with need. You don’t know what you’re begging for — forgiveness, the friction of him inside you again, anything—

“Say it,” he demands, spanking you again. “Say you’re beautiful. Say it while you look at yourself.”

“I— I can’t—”

He growls deep in his chest, almost like an animal. With one arm, he hauls you back upright, slamming you into him. His cock presses against your soaked folds but doesn’t enter you. The tease is unbearable.

“You can’t?” he hisses. “You can’t, but you take my cock like a good little whore? You drip for me. You clench around me. And still, you lie to yourself?”

You shudder at the way he says it — degrading but laced with affection, like he’s trying to break something in you to build it up stronger.

His hand slides between your thighs, dragging over your slick folds. He doesn’t enter. He just pets you. Slowly. Cruelly.

“Say it, Schatz. Say you’re beautiful. Say it while I fuck you like you deserve.”

You meet your reflection’s eyes.

Your mascara’s smudged. Your cheeks are flushed. Your lips are parted and swollen from the way he kissed you earlier — bruising, biting, his. You look ruined. You look—

“Say it,” he growls again.

When you still don’t, he shoves into you hard. You scream.

“Fuck— König—!”

He gives you no time to adjust. His pace is brutal now, slamming you against the vanity with every thrust. Your hands scramble for purchase, your body tipping forward. But he holds you upright by your throat, making you watch.

“Say. It.”

You sob. Not from pain — from overwhelm. From the way he’s unraveling you, ripping you apart and demanding you see yourself through his eyes.

“I’m—” you gasp. “I’m— I’m b-beautiful—”

The second the words leave your lips, his pace falters — not stopping, but stuttering. A deep groan escapes him like he’s coming undone, like that was the reward he needed most.

“Again.”

You choke on a moan, legs trembling. “I’m beautiful.”

“Louder.”

“I’m beautiful—!”

“Yes, you are,” he growls, fucking into you harder now, his control snapping. “My beautiful girl. You take me so well. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

You come without warning. Your whole body seizes up, cunt clenching around him so tight it drags a curse from his mouth in thick German. You scream his name, sobbing, shaking in his grip as the orgasm rips through you.

König doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He fucks you through it, chasing his own release with ragged breaths. “Mine,” he pants. “Fucking mine—”

He slams deep one last time and groans, coming inside you with a shudder. You feel it — hot, thick, spilling out around him as he stays buried to the hilt.

He holds you there, both of you trembling, sweat-slicked and panting in front of the mirror.

You glance up.

You still look ruined. But there’s something different in your eyes now.

Pride.

His hand smooths your hair, a surprising tenderness after all that fire. He kisses your temple through the mask.

“You’ll never say you’re not beautiful again,” he murmurs.

And this time, you believe him.

[billthedrake]

THE FRAT HOUSE (PART THREE)

I leaned into Mike's body. I swear I'd already met twenty Mikes in this town. This one was way hot, on the older side in his early 40s but kind of looked young for his age. He had dog tags around his neck and had that Army or ex-Army look, hair still buzzed. Though maybe it was macho drag.

"He's good right?" he asked as he looked up from his boyfriend, Colin, who was slowly sucking my dick.

It was a great way to kick off a week at the beach.

I nodded. "Oh yeah. I don't even really like blow jobs."

He shook his head and gave me a deep laugh. "What dude doesn't like blowjobs?"

Mike leaned in. Our lips touched and parted. Dude's tongue slid in.

I moaned into that kiss. This was actually my first threesome, and I felt the thrill of Mike's strong hand wedge into my asscleft, rooting for my asshole with as much finesse as he had kissing me. Which was not a lot.

Colin pulled off and was now attacking his partner's dick. I leaned back and watched, and I think I gasped when I saw that cute blond pup deepthroat that hog like it was nothing.

Mike watched with a leer and looked up. "He can suck us off if you like, stud, or...." His hand hadn't left my ass.

I was a little buzzed from the bar, so it took me longer to pick up on the dynamic. Colin was the bait, and I was the catch.

"If you go easy," I said, which brought a smile to Army Mike's lips.

It wasn't just me being coy. I'd spent the last month trying not to be a whore. After my housemate and friend Alex topped me, I'd been horny as hell. Getting dick only made me crave it more, you know? I went on Grindr and found one top. He was a good lay, it was fun. But he was in an open relationship and probably wasn't my dating type anyway. Since then, nothing.

I was torn. Part of me wanted to go out and sleep around. Get Charlie Kenner out of my system, and just enjoy being 25 and desirable as fuck. The other part of me looked down on dudes who did that. Catholic guilt dies hard, and I still hadn't shaken off my conservatism as a closeted jock.

Now I was pulling Colin up for a kiss while Army Mike circled behind me, already lubing up my hole and teasing it.

****

Alex offered me the spare room in the beach rental. Charlie had originally planned to come but had backed off. A cut me a deal, payback for helping him with the home improvements around the house. I think it was also the gay big bro figure looking out for his little bro. Getting me out of my funk.

It's what I needed. I'm not a beach guy, but that first day on the beach I was surrounded by a fuck ton of hot guys. Gay guys, buff guys. Skewing older than my type maybe, but a range of bodies from great to perfect. I decided I was a beach guy, all right.

We went out for after beach drinks. Dinner. Drinks and dancing in the evening. We were two houses of guys who traveled together and hung out together. Me, A, my housemate John, and Zach and Daniel in one house. In the other house was Kevin Mulvaney, our hockey teammate Drew, and some other couple I didn't know - Randy and Will.

I didn't dance, other than the white guy shuffle at weddings. But this very cute guy my age and my height caught my eye. Blond, cute as fuck, he reminded me of one of my fraternity brothers. He introduced his partner. Oh well, but Mike's eyes were on me like a wolf, too. They dragged me to the dance floor. I went. They danced up against me, one then the other, then both. We kissed.

I decided then and there I was gonna go wild this week.

****

I tried to be quiet when I walked into the rental house after hooking up. Mike wasn't a great top, he's entered too fast and it took me a while to start to enjoy his dick. And he dropped some "bitch" stuff that was a turnoff. But it didn't matter. I decided loved having a threesome. Colin had sucked me off while I got plugged from behind. And just connecting physically with other men like that, spontaneous and no-strings, was exhilarating.

There was noise coming from A's room. Fucking, muted sex cries. Good for him, I laughed to myself. I slid into my bedroom and closed the door. I had the small room. Like tiny, just room for a double bed and little else. I didn't care. I was in love with this place.

****

The guys teased me the next day. They'd seen me go off with Mike and Colin and had seen me grind on the dance floor. I had a way of feeling self-conscious, but I also knew that's why they teased me.

Kevin had done a 180 since he'd lived in the Frat House, as I affectionately called Alex's place. Kev and I caught up on the beach, sitting side by side on the big towels laid out. He was also fair complected and joked about needing the sunscreen. We even applied to one another. It was flirty in a fun way, but no real edge there. He'd moved on, I think. He was telling me about a guy he'd been on dates with and wondering why he always second guessed himself. I had ideas, but who was I to give dating advice to anyone?

After a while Kevin went to swim. I begged off, just too damn cold.

I ended up napping. I'd have to pace myself if I was gonna party all week. But the sun felt good and I dozed off.

A voice woke me.

"You're getting red," he said.

I looked up and there was my housemate John, getting up from under his umbrella and picking up his lotion. "Want me to reapply?" he asked. "You might want to flip over anyway."

"Yeah, thanks," I said.

If there was any revelation I had from this trip it was that John Harris had a smoking hot body. Not hunky-big like Charlie's or jacked like A's or beefy like Kevin's. John was pure Crossfit-looking strong and toned, sinewy shoulders, and thick arms. He was completely waxed for the summer and wore preppy patterned mid-length trunks that were out of place at a gay beach. They looked right on him.

Army Mike from the night before had big hands. But John knew what to do with his. I'm pretty sure my housemate wasn't making the moves on me. But, well, some guys just have the Touch. John was making me hard with his.

"There," he said, after a final rub and pat. "You can get under my umbrella if you want."

"Probably a good idea."

I was still getting to know John. I always thought of his personality as quiet and shy, but nice. I still had that assessment. He did some sales job for high-end home finishings. He admitted he'd always wanted to be an architect but his parents made him study business instead. "Of course my first boyfriend was an architect," he said with a smile. "Only I was too jealous of his job."

He was getting out of a long-distance relationship, and I told him about the background I had with Charlie.

"Sorry, Brian," he said. To the other guys, I could be Powers or "Bri." John always called me by my full first name.

"I'm still figuring out how gay dating works," I said.

"Let me know when you find out," he said with a smile. He was about three or four years older than me. "You're having fun, through, right?"

I wasn't sure if he was referring to last night's hookup or in general. Either way, the answer was the same. "I decided I was gonna let loose this weekend."

John looked around. "Good place for it. I may try to get out of my shell while I'm here. Derek was going to come out and join me, but that didn't work out."

I didn't want this to get into a bonding session over our break ups.

"What does getting out of your shell mean to you?" I asked. I was trying not to flirt too hard, and it was probably a question I'd ask Zach or any number of friends.

He laughed. "I dunno. I'm not get-my-dick-sucked-on-the-beach kind of wild, you know?... but I just wanna be open to experiences, you know?"

I did.

Our eyes connected for a second, and fuck that attraction was there. I didn't want Charlie Part Two, where I dated a housemate, and I didn't want Kevin Part Two, where I fooled around with one and dealt with the fall out later.

Thankfully, John averted his eyes shyly and chuckled. "You must get a lot of attention," he said, looking out at the waves.

"Enough," I said. "You must, too." I dared to scope out his body next to mine. "You got a killer bod, dude."

"Thanks," he said, looking back at me. "That's a recent development." He explained. "I made a new years resolution three years ago I was gonna go for the body I wanted."

"Who the fuck keeps new years resolutions?" I teased.

He looked at me and smiled. "I know, right?"

"That's awesome, man."

"I guess deep down I still feel like the scrawny kid, you know?"

I didn't have that issue, really, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

Anyway, just then, Kevin and A came up, dripping wet and grabbing their towel.

"How's the water?" John asked.

"Terrific," Kev said. "You should get in."

I watched John get out from the umbrella and toss aside his sunglasses. He was half way down to the water when I decided to follow him.

But as he jumped in and started dunking under and wading in the swells, I got in up to my knees and turned back.

It was too fucking cold.

****

I was sunburned of course. Not too bad, but I felt tired when we went out that evening. I got a second wind, though. I hung out mostly with Zach and Daniel and Drew. I think people thought we were two intergenerational couples. But that was OK. A lot of our talk revolved around the "daddy" type and the appeal to younger guys like Zach. I wasn't immune exactly, but it just wasn't my main thing. Still as we talked, Drew and I traded eye contact more than once. We'd hooked up a couple of years before, just a one time thing.

I had a feeling it was going to happen again. Just reading him and his eye contact. I'd enjoyed sex with Drew before, and in general he was a good guy. The perfect antidote to Army Mike, not coming on too strong.

We were low key in exchanging deeper looks. There's this thing where sometimes you can flirt with friends without being too serious, and maybe that was happening here. Besides nothing serious was gonna happen with Zach and Daniel there.

Drew talked a bit about turning 50 and the good and bad that came with that, and his goal to retire early.

"That's one of the hard things with the age gap," Daniel chimed in. "We're not going to be in sync when it comes to stuff like that."

Zach quipped, "You're not gonna be my kept househusband, babe?"

Daniel shot him a playful middle finger. "You can't afford me, honey."

"That's true," Zach said.

Zach and Daniel called it an early evening, at least early by vacation standards. I was this close to going with them, since I was tired, too. But I wanted to see if anything would play out.

Indeed, Drew and I flirted some.

"You've changed some," he said finally.

"How so?" I asked.

"You seem to know what you want, or at least know to go for it."

"What do you think I want?" I teased.

"To get laid this week."

"Is that not what you want?"

"I want to forget I'm fucking 50."

I patted his back. "You're a DILF and you know it."

"Thanks," he said. "Wanna go fool around?"

We went to his place. It was nicer than mine, the house and room. We kissed. Not romantically, but like we were play-acting romance. I missed it, and I'd learn Drew did too. We swapped oral and made out and finally 69ed. Drew's body was just as toned and DILF-y as I remembered it.

"Thanks, Bri," he said as he lay back against the headboard, naked and cock soft. "That was fun."

"It was," I said. I was pulling my shorts back on. It might have been fun to sleep in his bed, but I didn't want the gossip.

"I'm gonna miss you guys next year," he said.

"What? You're moving?"

He shook his head. "Not doing hockey this year. Blew my knee out. I figure I don't want a replacement before 60."

Man, the aging thing had hit him hard, but the knee thing sounded like it sucked. "You'll be part of the gang, though... if you want."

"Yeah," he said. There was something about his tone that said maybe he'd move on.

****

I got a run and a workout in the next morning. I stayed out of the sun mostly, though I hung out more with John under the umbrella. And before drinks, I headed back to the house early and napped to catch up on some rest.

Going out was a blast. I decided I wasn't going to hookup. But I sure got a ton of attention. I ate it up, and I made an effort to mingle and not just cling to Zach and Daniel.

I saw Colin and Army Mike. They were part of a gaggle of guys from another city. I thought of saying hello but figured that was silly. Colin did see me and flashed a smile my way and a wave before turning his attention elsewhere.

Guys said hello, some came up to me. Two things I'm not good at are flirting with strangers and gay humor. So I leaned into the jock thing, talking to these guys like they were my college buddies or teammates. I got some ribbing at first, but I stuck to it, almsot as an experiment. Crazy thing is, it worked. I had a bunch of conversations and got a couple of numbers.

"Someone's gonna get a big ego," Zach teased as we walked to the restaurant.

"Come on man, I've had a shitty year dating. Give me this." It was in a joking tone but true.

"All right, Powers, just this once," he smiled. I do think Zach vicariously enjoyed me hooking up with guys. He and Daniel were monogamous and happy, but he'd had his single days, too, and missed the hunt.

I danced that night. Not well, but I just got smashed and enjoyed myself. And stumbled home, alone. I was happy.

****

Alex had been kind of missing for that first half of the week. I think maybe he'd found a dude he'd connected with. The second night out he'd gone off on his own, and on the third he stayed in watching a movie.

"You sure you don't want to go out, A?" I asked him.

He looked up with his sexy green eyes and flashed a smile. "I'm good, little bro. Just wanna enjoy some downtime, you know?"

But by day 4, the old Alex Ramirez was back, playing a competitive game of paddle ball at the beach, hitting happy hour with his hard seltzers, showing off his shirtless, jacked body. And he was in a social, talkative mood.

It was the day when we felt like a true posse. Nine dudes hang out and having a great time. I was the youngest, with Drew, Daniel, and that couple Will and Randy the older set, all at least 40. I was starting to enjoy the jokes thrown my way and was even getting into the catty gay humor of Will and Randy.

At some point, A went to get me another drink. I switched to hard seltzer, but I had to pace to keep from getting too sloshed. It was still only 6 o'clock.

"You having fun, little bro?" he asked.

"God yeah, A," I said. "Thanks for making this happen for me."

His hand rested on my back. Friendly and yet sensual. My housemate and I hadn't done anything sexual since we crossed that line a month ago. But the sexual attraction was still there and still mutual.

"It's nice to have some young eye candy in the gang," he said with a wink. His hand traveling lower.

The booze was relaxing me for sure, and A's hand felt very welcome. His touch was even making my nipples stick up in my T-shirt. My guard was down, which is why I said, "The House Bottom, bro?"

That caught him by surprise, but his smile came back. "I thought the idea offended you, little bro."

I shook my head. "Maybe at first, but I'll admit, it's been an inspiration some nights." I held up my hand in a JO motion, copying what Alex had done when he first mentioned the House Bottom idea. I hadn't really fantasized much about it, but the idea had stuck with me.

Alex leaned in and put his mouth to my ear. "Maybe you can pick the next housemate, little bro." We'd finally fixed up the fourth bedroom so A could rent it out. "Pick out a hot top for that hole of yours."

"Oh fuck," I hissed. It was wild fantasy, but A had a way of making it seem real.

He smirked when he pulled back.

Just then some guy came back. "Hello Muscles," he teased, running his hand up Alex's meaty bare torso, before flitting away.

Alex and I both laughed.

****

Dinner was a casual bite. I was hungry and scarfed it down. I stuck with soda water the next round when we went out for drinks. By 10, when Kevin and the other house were revving up to hit the club, Zach and Daniel begged off, saying they were going back to the house. They were in a very physical and affectionate mood, and I had a good idea they were eager to go have sex. Good for them.

Alex looked at me briefly, and then spoke up that he was gonna head back too. I took the bait and said I'd see the guys tomorrow. Hell, maybe sex was gonna happen with A, or it wasn't. Either way, some low-key bro time sounded perfect.

Alex must have been thinking the same thing, because as Zach and Daniel went to the privacy of their bedroom, A pulled out two seltzers and guided us out to the deck.

The air was cool, but I was loving just being here.

"You got some sun, Bri," Alex said.

I knew I was a little sunburned. "You always tan, fucker," I teased.

"Thank my Daddy," he said. I knew Alex had a lot of resentment about his father, so it was cool he was in a lighthearted mood that night.

"I'm definitely coming back here next year," I said, changing the subject. "Even if I have to save up."

"We'll work something out," A said. There were two sides to Alex Ramirez, one a money-savvy landlord who was fixated on building equity, the other a guy who liked to be generous with his friends.

We talked about general life stuff. I admired that A had his shit together and was a homeowner. I was saving money, but it'd probably be my 30s before I got real serious. Right now, I was just doing the career ladder thing and enjoying my 20s.

We talked about guys. Alex definitely had a thing for twunks, like young, college aged dudes, but he also realized maybe he didn't have the healthiest dynamic dating them.

"Maybe I need to expand my type, bro," he said. Then, "You think you could date a guy who's not a hockey dude?"

"Probably," I said. Then, "I don't know." A was perceptive. It wasn't just that Charlie had been my last boyfriend, it's that other than being into sex with guys, hockey was kind of my identity.

He laughed. Alex had a sexy laugh. "I just felt bad for that poor kid....Colin?"

I was caught off guard because a Colin had sucked my dick that week. Then it clicked. "Oh, Connor."

"Yeah, dude. Him. He was crazy about you."

"I know," I said. "I kinda feel bad about that."

"It happens, bro."

Just then the door opened, and John stepped out. He was in a "gay club" attire that seemed out of place on him. Super tight t-shirt, Chubbies shorts, and designer sneakers. If John dressed like that more, I would have noticed his rockin bod earlier.

He had a plastic cup in hand. John was a vodka tonic kind of guy. "Am I interrupting anything?" he asked. Perhaps he'd noticed A being close and flirty with me earlier.

"Nah, bro, come join us," A said.

"Decided not to stay out?" I asked.

John shook his head as he took a seat. "Wasn't feeling it."

A grinned and teased, "What's with the Chelsea kid get up, bro?"

He blushed. "I dunno, man. Figured I'd try to fit in, you know?"

"I like that preppy shit you got going on, John," I said. "Looks good on you."

"See? You're Powers-approved, buddy... doesn't get any better than that."

We talked a little and got a report. John was surprisingly shy when it came to pursuing guys. "I tried to talk up a couple guys, but I definitely don't have game," he said, laughing at himself. He took a sip of his drink and added, "Figured I'd come back here and see if anyone was on the apps."

"How long has it been since you've gotten laid, bro?" A asked with some real concern.

He laughed and shrugged. "Maybe 3 months. It's been a while."

"Fuuck, dude." Alex said. "Too long."

John kind of relaxed into A's easy going vibe. "Yeah. I need to get laid this week, for sure."

A looked my way and winked. "Well, Bri here's thinking of becoming the house bottom. Maybe he can help out."

I might have acted like a deer in the headlights, but that didn't compare to John's nervousness. "What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"Just a crazy idea Bri and I had," Alex explained. "He's a horny bottom bro, and could use some men to help him out."

Leave to A to make this happen. I had a chance to back out, or to say fuck off. Make it a joke. But I'd gotten prepped before going out and being around both these guys... yeah, the idea of making it with them was very appealing. My inner itch was kicking in.

I looked John in the eyes. "It's weird, right?" I asked. "But it'd be kind of hot.... if you were into it."

"Jesus, Brian, you're crazy hot," John said, his brown eyes getting clearly excited. He looked over at A. "You guys, um, done this before?"

Alex nodded. "Just once. Powers's ass is incredible, bro. You should try it bro."

A was laying it on thick, but his praise was getting me turned on.

"You should, John," I said. I was now enjoying being the hunter in addition to being the prey. "No strings, no expectations. Just dudes getting off."

He smiled but was clearly still shy. "Like, now?"

"Why not?" I teased. I stood up and undid my shorts. I had a jock strap on and turned to show off my ass. I flashed the guys for maybe five seconds then pulled up my shorts again.

"Fuck!" John hissed.

"Nothing like hockey ass right?" A said with a leer. He pawed at his crotch now.

John stood up. Very horny, in a way his mild-mannered personality didn't lead me to suspect. "Is Alex gonna watch?" He was stepping toward me, and tentatively reaching out to feel my chest. John was about 6 foot even and in his tight T-shirt I could make out the tight, sculpted brawn.

My mind flashed back to my first day here, and how much I enjoyed the threesome. "If it's OK with you, bro."

"Sure," he hissed. Then he leaned in and kissed me. John Harris could kiss. An easy approach his slipped his tongue inside and softly moved his lips.

"I wanted to do that at the beach, Brian," he said.

"I did too," I admitted.

Now A was standing up. That big boner in his shorts as he stepped up to us. "So... you ready to be the House Bottom, little bro?" he asked.

"Yeah... only Kyle's not here," I teased. Kyle White was our other housemate.

A chuckled. "White would fuck you in a heartbeat, bro. You know that, right?"

I didn't. And I wasn't sure if Alex was just doing horny sex talk to get me going. I turned to John. "You OK with this?"

He grinned. "New experiences, right?" he smiled. I kept his eyes on me as he reached down and undid those chubbies.

"Whoa, Harris went commando," Alex teased.

I looked down and there was a nice piece of uncut cock standing straight up. Thick and meaty, maybe shy of seven inches. John Harris had a nice tool.

I gave the man another kiss, hornier than the first and then playfully patted his hard pecs as I leaned back. "Don't cum," I urged, then right there on the deck I squatted down.

Up close Harris's dick was even better. Full and heavy and rock hard. I licked and teased the length and ran my tongue along the foreskin. Meanwhile A was pulling down his shorts and jerking the length of his dong.

I took John into my mouth and then worked further. I was an OK cocksucker, since I loved dick, and Lord knows Charlie Kenner had given my mouth a workout. But I still could use more practice.

I was getting it now, working John's prick deeper with each bob. I pulled off and moved to A. I fucking made love to my bro's dick. Up and down, extra suction, a lot of saliva.

Then back to John.

"Let's go to the bedroom," he said, nudging me off. He seemed to like the naughtiness of doing it outdoors, but it was still out of his comfort zone.

Even as as John pulled up his shorts, I could see he had an incredible ass. I'd heard the guys talk about "top ass," and while I still didn't know exactly what made a man have top ass, I knew for sure Charlie Kenner was the ideal I had in my head - strong and muscular but not overly rounded. John Harris was a tauter version of that.

There was an awkwardness as we three filed into John's bedroom, A shutting the door behind us. But John stepped back up and claimed a kiss that got me very into whatever was going to go down. He guided me back to the bed, and as I finally sat back down on the mattress, the guy peeled down his shorts again, now kicking off his shows and stepping out of his shorts. He smiled down on me then looked over at Alex.

"What did have you guys done?"

Alex was now naked and sliding in from the other side of the bed, scooting up behind me and gripping my shoulders with his strong hands. "Little bro had a horny hole one night. I took care of it."

I leaned back into his grip.

John grinned. He was a cute guy. "Scoot over," he urged, then stripped off his T-shirt.

A and I made room in that queen bed, and it was soon a tight fit. Two hunks on either side of me, helping me strip off and taking turns kissing me. This was different than my earlier threesome. More playful, and the guys weren't a couple this time. I felt like the true center of attention. Hands pawing at my toned ex-jock body.

At one point I turned to kiss John. It wasn't like I craved affection with him more than with Alex, but John was an incredible kisser and that body was new to me. Fun to caress and hold.

A didn't feel left out. He felt up my ass and dug into the cleft before leaning over my shoulder. "Where's the lube, bro?" he asked.

John pulled back and went to find it in his bag. I guess he hadn't had the chance to use it yet. "I don't have any rubbers on me," he said sheepishly.

"It's OK, Bri's on PReP," Alex answered and took the lubricant from our housemate.

John had a sly grin as he got back in bed. He and I kissed while Alex fingered and slicked up my hole.

Finally I felt A scooted up closer to my back and guide that big stick into my crease. The penetration was OK. He went slow then rushed it. But the last four inches felt amazing. This is what I wanted with Army Mike. A top who didn't make everything an Alpha show. Alex now gently pumped me while his lube-slick hand slipped around my front, holding me steady.

I moaned into John's kiss. He finally pulled back to watch my face.

"Feeling good, Brian?" he asked. He was turned on and yet really wanted to check in with how I was doing.

I nodded. "Oh yeah," I hissed. "Fuck."

"So hot," John said.

"Bro's got a sweet ass," A said. "Gonna take good care of his brothers."

The fucking got quicker. I think Ramirez had one speed he liked for fucking, fast. But the side position was perfect to keep it from being too intense. I was experiencing both speeds at once, hot-to-trot Alex doing me urgently from behind and smooth John making out with me from the front. If there had been any stimulation on my cock, I might have cum from that combo.

Instead I just rode out that pleasure and the sensual feeling as A got his nut. It didn't take long. I felt his muscles stiffen against my back and his arm pull me back in urgent need. "Day-um, Bri," he cried against my neck, giving me a soft lick.

It was like time was suspended for a minute. A was trying to regain his regular consciousness, John was horny as hell now but waiting his turn. I was in fucking bottom heaven, even if in the back of my head I wondered if this was all a mistake.

It didn't feel like a mistake when A's long dick pulled out, slick with his seed, and I knew I was ready for Harris's thicker one. I pulled him to me in an unmistakable sign, rolling us back in the spot vacated by Alex. John came with, supercharged with lust and attacking my neck and body with soft kisses.

I parted my legs and wrapped them around John. It took him a second to find my hole, but he nudged in.

"God yes," he sighed, pulling up from my neck and looking down on me with pure appreciation.

"Fuck me," I urged. I held on to his Crossfit bod and felt that thick cock plow in. Not roughly, but he was going right for it. My hole was already loosened and seeded, and it had been three months since John Harris has been laid. I was reaping the reward.

The guy fucked hard. Not rough, not fast, but with real strength, a steady dicking that was gonna make me crazy. I did NOT expect John Harris to be an amazing top, and yet here he was on top of me and giving me an athletic shafting that was just right.

"God," I hissed. My p-spot was truly alive, buzzing and wanting more of the Harris treatment. The guy seemed to respond in turn, throwing more of his strength and weight into each thrust. Or maybe he was just feeling his need to get off inside me.

"That's it, little bro," I heard A say with excitement. Honest to god, I'd temporarily forgotten he was there, but he was now scooting up and kissing the side of my head, snaking his hand down. "...just like when you were in the fraternity house, taking brother cock." It was A doing his fantasy talk and doing it well, sending me to that place of sexual need. "One after the other..."

John grunted on top of me. A's words were tripping his wires, too, and I felt him get close to his orgasm.

With perfect timing, A's hand wrapped around my hard as nails dick. His palm was slick with lube and he drew it up and down maybe twice before I lost it.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed, and caught it in a whimper, trying not to be too loud as I came. Zach and Daniel were just two rooms down.

It was a simultaneous O. I wished sex could always be this good. John kissed me as he rode out his orgasm, then I met A's soft lips. We uncoupled, sweaty and my body cum-covered in John's bed.

A had a content, sleepy look as he slid out. "That was hot as hell, dudes... hopefully we can do it again."

"Yeah," John said, kind of dreamy in his expression and resting his hand on my bare, spermy chest. "If Brian here's up for it."

"Definitely."

We watched A slip on his shorts and pick up his T shirt before slipping out the door.

John looked at me and smiled. "I'm so fucking glad we did that, man. Incredible."

"Incredible for me, too," I answered. I looked down at my body. "I should get cleaned off."

"Yeah," John said, removing his hand to let me get up. "If you want to sleep in here, Brian... no strings, but it's been a while for me. I miss it."

"Be back soon, bro," I said.

I slipped out to shower off, just a quick rinse, and brush my teeth. I'd have to figure out how much to tell Zach. I shared pretty much everything with him, but I didn't want to make things weird with him, or for him to think less of me.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and made my way back to John's room. Who knew what this House Bottom business meant. If it was really gonna develop, or if it was just some wild Alex fantasy we played out tonight. But I loved sex with A and sex with John. They were my friends, my bros, and they would be, fucking or not. I decided not to overthink it, to just see where it led.

John went to wash off and brush his teeth. Within five minutes he was naked again and slipping in bed next to my nude body. We spooned. John seemed to love feeling up my abs.

"You OK, man?" he asked softly.

"God, yes," I said. But I got a vibe. "Did the House Bottom talk freak you out?"

He laughed softly. "Nah. But you're the last guy I'd expect with a wild side."

"I could say the same about you, bro."

He patted my chest. "It's fun. Going all out for rebound sex."

He was talking about himself, but I realized it applied to me too. I still missed Charlie Kenner, but that night, falling asleep in John's arms, I missed my ex a little less.