"And May Castellan would be waiting for her son."

The hallway outside the lecture hall buzzed with the usual sounds— backpacks slamming shut, sneakers squeaking on linoleum, a few guys yelling about weekend plans.

You were shoving your notebook into your bag, mind already drifting to the coffee run you'd promised yourself, when a shadow loomed in your peripheral vision.

Luke Castellan was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that signature smirk curling his lips as if he owned the damn corridor. His dark hair was tousled, and his frat hoodie stretched tight over his shoulders.

Everyone knew Luke: this man was the frat boy who could charm his way into any skirt on campus, leaving a trail of regrets and hangovers.

He pushed off the wall as you tried to slip past, his hand landing firm on your elbow. "Hey, wait up. We need to talk."

You yanked your arm free, heart kicking up a notch. "Not now, Castellan. I have places to be."

His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering.

"Oh, come on. After that party last weekend? You think you can just ghost me?" He stepped closer, his voice low so only you could hear. "Especially when I've got those pics from your little hookup with Connor."

Your stomach dropped. You were drunk, bodies grinding in the dim basement, and yeah, you'd ended up fucking with Connor— Luke's frat brother— in a spare room upstairs. It had been stupid, really impulsive, the kind of drunk decision that hits you like a brick the next morning.

But photos? That wasn't part of the thing.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss, glancing around to make sure no one is eavesdropping.

Luke pulled out his phone, thumbing open the screen. There you were, mid-act, Connor's hands on you, your boobs showing. You couldn't see well the material but it was enough to make your face flush like crazy.

This was terrible, the kind of photo that could tank your reputation if they hit the frat group chat or worse, the campus groups.

"Delete them. Now."

Luke's thumb hovered over the share button, his grin widening. "Connor's a sloppy drunk, but he snaps good evidence. Unless you want these circulating, you'll come with me. Convince me to make him delete them."

You should've walked away, reported his ass, but the thought of those photos leaking— spreading across group chats, ruining your rep, literally anyone knowing they existed— nailed you in place. Luke had that reputation: the womanizer with a knack for getting what he wanted.

"Fine," you muttered, hating the way your voice shook. "But just talk."

''Frat house, top floor. Don't keep me waiting."

Saying you had anxiety the rest of the day was an understatement.

The walk to the frat house felt like a march to the gallows, the afternoon sun mocking you with it's cheer. The place was a sprawling Victorian eyesore on the edge of campus, porch littered with red cups and a deflated soccer ball.

You slipped in through the side door, avoiding the common room where a couple guys nursed beers and played video games. Up the creaky stairs, past doors thumping with bass from someone else's playlist, to Luke's room at the end of the hall.

He was waiting, door cracked, shirt already off to reveal the muscle from endless pickup games and gym sessions.

"Knew you'd show," he said, pulling you inside and locking the door.

The room smelled like pizza and his cologne, bed unmade with sheets twisted like a crime scene.

He backed you against the desk, close so you could feel the heat off him.

He didn't kiss you—just ground his hips forward, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you. He was dry humping you, like some desperate high schooler, but he was getting hard fast, the friction building the heat.

You could feel the outline of his dick pressing through the fabric, thickening as he rocked steadily, his hands gripping your hips to control the pace.

"Fuck, you're tense," he murmured, nipping at your neck. "Relax. This is just the warmup."

You bit your lip, stifling a sound as the pressure hit your clit through your clothes. ''I'm just sucking you off, nothing else...''

This was humiliating, the way he used you like a toy to get himself ready, but the ache was real, spreading low in your belly. Minutes ticked by—his breaths growing ragged—until he was fully stiff, pulling back with a satisfied groan.

"Come on. Show me how bad you want those pics gone." Your pulse thundered, but you sank down, unbuckling his belt, freeing his cock— thick and hard. "Suck it. Nice and slow."

Okay, maybe you understood why the girls were obsessed with him.

You wrapped your hand around the base, lips parting to take him in. He tasted salty, musky, and you worked your tongue along the underside, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed.

The man groaned, fingers threading into your hair, guiding you deeper. His hips bucked, thrusting forward until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged, eyes watering, but he didn't let up.

"Get to the base," he growled, voice rough. "Be good for me. Choke on it like the slut who fucked my buddy last night."

Spit started to drip down your chin, the wet sounds obscene in the space— gluck-gluck-gluck, your coughs muffled by his girth. He held your head steady, pounding relentlessly until your nose pressed against his pelvis, lungs burning.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, pulling back just enough to let you gasp before slamming in again.

Your hands braced on his thighs, nails digging in and eyes shut, but he didn't stop until he tensed, cock pulsing. Hot cum flooded your mouth, spilling over as you swallowed how you could, then he pulled back letting it get in your face, your cheeks, nose and some got on your eyelashes.

He pulled out, smearing the mess across your face with his tip. "Look at you, painted like a cheap whore."

Before you could catch your breath, he was on your face again, stroking himself lazily over your lips. "Open wide. Let me work my cock however I want."

You frowned but parted your lips, and he slid in, slower this time but no less demanding. The sounds were obscene— wet slurps, your muffled whimpers as he used your mouth like a toy, passing over your tongue, inside cheeks as throat. He was quite literally face-fucking you, balls slapping your chin, until he tensed and unloaded again, more cum splattering your skin, marking you from forehead to neck and dripping to your clothes.

"There. I gave you such a beautiful new makeup, should be grateful for the glow up."

You were a mess, kneeling there panting, face sticky and warm. Luke stepped back, admiring his work, then nodded at your shirt.

"Get those tits out. Work my cock with 'em—show me you're the campus slut who knows how to earn a favor."

Your face burned, the cum was drying on your skin, but the photos loomed in your mind. You stood, peeling off your top and bra, the cool air hitting your nipples until they pebbled. Your breasts were full and heavy and he guided you to the bed as he sat on the edge.

You knelt again, pressing them around his softening length. Looking up you could see the man's amused face.

The skin was slick with his cum, sliding easily as you squeezed and rocked, the friction building him back up. Luke watched attentively. "Yeah, just like that. Connor probably loved these too—bouncing while he railed you."

One of his hands reached down to tweak a nipple, making you yelp. "Faster. Milk it, bitch."

The friction built heat in your chest, his cock hardening fully between your breasts, the head poking up toward your chin with each pass, you gave it little kisses to make it hard faster.

"Enough foreplay." Before you could protest, he hauled you up, shoving you onto the bed face-down. "Spread 'em. Let's see what I'm working with."

"No," you said, voice hoarse, wiping at your face finally. "I only agreed to suck you off. That's it."

Before you could scramble away, he was between your legs, hands pinning your thighs apart.

"Stop—I'm serious, Luke."

But he ignored you, moving your skirt and his fingers hooking into your panties, pulling them aside in one rough pull. Cool air hit your bare pussy, and he didn't waste time, spreading your folds open with his thumbs, inspecting like you were some exhibit.

"Look at this. Wet already, huh? Dripping for it, even after all that mouth work." His breath ghosted over your folds, making you clench involuntarily.

"Fuck you," you spat, but then his mouth was there—kissing your parted folds, tongue flicking your clit behind the swollen lips. It was invasive, thorough, lapping at your entrance like he owned it.

You bit your lip, stifling a moan, but he didn't stop, sucking your clit until your thighs shook. "Luke, don't do that—"

That's when he started kissing your wet cunt. One in your folds, another in your clit and another in your entry, enjoying how it contracted with nothing inside.

You gasped, hips jerking, but he held you down, pushing two fingers inside your tight heat. They curled, stroking to make your walls clench, even as you cursed against the sheets.

Rising, he pulled out his phone, snapping a photo— your face cum-streaked as you looked from your shoulder, tits out, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your pussy, curling against your walls. "Smile for the album."

"Delete that," you murmured, but he just laughed, pocketing it.

He suddenly withdrew his fingers, slick with your arousal and immediately positioned himself between your legs, cock hard from all your work, rubbing the head along your slit.

You pushed back weakly when you felt his tip at your entrance. "This is too far Luke-"

"Shut up."

He pushed in gradual, inch by inch, stretching your pussy around his thickness. It was deliberate torture— slow drags that had you whimpering, walls fluttering.

"Grateful yet?" he taunted, slapping your clit lightly with each withdrawal. The sting made you clench harder, your cunt trying to push him deeper. "Love seeing a dumb slut like you getting dicked."

He kept the pace torturous, slapping your clit again—sharper this time—until your cunt gripped him like a vice. You moaned, lost in it, this was actually so nice...

He watched your face, smirking. "Yeah, dumb and wet for me."

He started pounding, the bed creaking under the force, his free hand gripping your hip to pull you back onto him. Each slap of skin on skin echoed, your moans mixing with his taunts.

You were grateful, yes, grateful for the idiot who had the music blasting. It helped to drown out your moans.

And well, you were also grateful for this cock hitting your cervix with such desire.

"Take it, whore. This is what you're good for— a cunt wrapped around my dick." He moved his free hand to slap your ass, the sting blooming red, but you were rocking back, chasing the friction despite the humiliation.

He pulled out suddenly, fisting his cock as he came, ropes of cum splattering your lower back and then folds, hot and messy. He tapped the head against your clit, pushing just the tip inside to smear it around, shallow and teasing. You were dazed, lips parting in a stupid smile you didn't even register, brain fuzzy from the stretch.

Luke laughed, low and mocking. "Look at you, grinning like an idiot. Dumb for dick."

He caressed, to your surprise, your cum-stained cheek lighty.

"Open those pussy lips. Let me see you." Your hands moved on autopilot, fingers spreading yourself, his cum all over the lips.

"That's why my friend probably fucked you in the first place— easy smile, easier hole." The slap he gave to your cheek was playful but stung, mixed with the exposure, had yourself slipping, that unwanted smile creeping back.

"Play with it," he ordered, "Finger that sloppy cunt. Get it ready for round two."

You did, circles on your clit, dipping inside where a bit of his cum clung, the sounds obscene.

Luke stroked himself against your ass, eyes locked on you.

"Good girl. Keep going— show me how bad you want your rep to not die." He joined your fingers as he entered you again, slower this time, but no less demanding, filling you to the hilt.

"Don't cum inside," you gasped, hands pushing at his chest as best as you could. "I'm serious—"

Luke's arms wrapped around your head in a tight hug, locking you against him, his chest against your back smothering your protests.

"Nah. You're my cum container now. Gonna breed this pussy stupid." He fucked you hard then, relentless, hips snapping as he was chasing that release— fuck, he was real about inseminating you.

You pushed weakly, nails scratching his arms, but his hold was iron, cock pistoning until your body couldn't do it anymore. The orgasm crashed over you— your first one since you got here, ripping through untouched nerves, walls spasming around him as you cried out.

He followed then, pumping hot cum deep inside, flooding your pussy despite your pleas. Wave after wave, he kept thrusting through it, milking every drop until you were limp, smiling dumbly in the afterglow, cum leaking from your hole. He pulled out slowly, watching it drip, then collapsed beside you, both of you panting.

After a long moment, he grabbed his phone again, deleting the photo he took with a swipe.

"All good," he said casually. "Those were fake, by the way. Photoshopped you both onto some old party shots. Never had real ones."

You blinked, the words sinking in slow, your body still buzzing, cum trickling down your thigh as that blissful smile lingered on your lips.

"What?"

★ eiris 2026 proofreaded ! ❩

(( 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝒽𝑒𝑟𝑒 )) 𝓂𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⸝⸝ 𝑙𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠