Ι Β·Λ β§ who i will write for: danny ramirez (+ most characters), jensen ackles (+ most characters), pedro pascal (+ most characters), gabriel luna (+most characters), lewis pullman (+ most characters) and more...
Ι Β·Λ β§ iβm no longer writing for aaron taylor johnson
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someone at work told me 'oh, just ask chat' when i raised a casual question and i asked what she meant and she said 'you know, chatgpt' like im an idiot. and i should get an award for the fact that i did not start snarling and biting and killing
Summary: You take up a KNA brother on his party invite just to get under Todd Stevenβs skin, intending to continue your famous rivalry, and itβs no surprise to anybody when you end the night in his bed.
Warnings: MDNI 18+!! alcohol use, drug use, cig smoking (ew nasty) this is literally hate sex, hair pulling nothing thaaaat bad
A/N: yo i canβt lie this is probably the best thing ive written I LOVE ME SOME HATE SEX (tbh they donβt actually hate each other otherwise why would they be having sex but likeβ¦idc. they dislike each other but wanna fuck, what could be better than that?) also yes the college party has been recycled by me i know that i did it already but like ask me if i care :)
βββ ββ βΌβ β βββ
You spent the entire walk across campus complaining.
βI swear to God, if I have to look at Todd fucking Stevens for more than twenty minutes, Iβm burning KNA to the ground,β you groaned, hugging your jacket tighter around yourself as the fall wind cut across the quad.
Beside you, Miles, a KNA brother, your sort-of friend and designated emotional support frat boy, snorted. βViolent start to the day. Love the energy.β
βIβm serious,β you said, pushing your hair back from your face. βOf all the people to get stuck with at that booth, it had to be him. Does the universe hate me? Is that what this is?β
Miles bumped your shoulder with his. βThere are worse fates than standing next to Todd. Heβs hot.β
You glared at him. βYour gay is showing you know. Heβs a menace.β
βA hot menace,β Miles corrected, grinning.
βYouβre gonna be bickering with the hot guy all morning. I truly do not understand the complaining.β
βHeβs not hot.β
Miles shot you a look so unimpressed it was practically a slap. βYeah, okay. And Iβm not late to every chapter meeting.β
βHeβs not,β you insisted, a little too quickly. βHeβsβ¦tall. And smug. His face looks like itβs always trying not to smirk. Thatβs not hot, thatβs annoying.β
βSure,β Miles said, drawing the word out like he was humouring a toddler. βThatβs why youβre doing your eyeliner like youβre about to be photographed for Vogue at eight in the morning.β
You opened your mouth to tell him to shut up, but your phone screen caught your reflection as you checked the time. Your gaze lingered. Your lipstick was still perfect, mascara clean, hair mostly behaving.
You pretended you werenβt checking. Miles definitely noticed. You angled the phone to fix a stray strand, smoothing it behind your ear. Milesβ eyebrows climbed his forehead.
βMmhm,β he hummed. βNot hot at all.β
βFuck off,β you muttered, shoving your phone back into your pocket and giving him a shove with your shoulder. He laughed, stumbling a half step, but fell easily back into pace with you as Greek Row came into view.
The booth was already half set up by the time you arrived. Tables lined along the walkway, banners hanging off them for different Greek orgs and campus clubs. Your joint booth sat dead center, a mashup of your sororityβs pastel branding and KNAβs obnoxious navy and gold. There were donation jars, flyers, a sign-up sheet for some charity event the Greek council had cooked up to make themselves look less chaotic. KNA and your sorority had been βstrongly encouragedβ to co-host.
Translation: Todd and you had been forced into the same volunteer block.
You dropped your bag behind the table and grabbed the stack of flyers, scanning the setup. A few KNA boys were already there, leaning against the table and scrolling on their phones. They all lit up when they saw you.
βHey!β Luke, one of the brothers, called. βLook who it is. Our favourite sorority girl!β
βYou only say that because I bring you guys snacks,β you said, but you couldnβt help the little smile. You liked most of the frat, just not their president.
βObviously,β Luke said. βWeβre shallow like that.β
You moved around the table, adjusting the banner so it didnβt sag in the middle, straightening the donation jar. βWhereβs your fearless leader? Did he forget how clocks work?β
Miles laughed. βHeβs on his way. You know Todd, he shows up late, acts like he invented the event, and somehow everyone thanks him for it.β
βDisgusting,β you said flatly. βIf a person could be an arch-nemesis, it would be him.β
βYeah?β Luke leaned his elbows on the table. βWhat did he even do? I feel like I missed an origin story. One day you two were normal, and then suddenly thereβs murder in the air every time you look at each other. Mikes?β
βDonβt ask me,β Miles said quickly. βI like my life.β
You ignored them, stacking the flyers in neat little piles. βHe just exists,β you muttered. βThatβs enough.β
βMmhm,β Miles said under his breath.
You shot him a look. βDonβt start.β
He raised both hands. βI didnβt say anything.β
You were in the middle of repositioning the sign-up clipboard when a familiar drawl slid into the air behind you.
βMorning, gentlemen. Sunshine.β
Your shoulders tensed instinctively.
You turned and there he was: Todd Stephens, Kappa Nu Alpha president, campus legend, and personal source of rage. Baseball cap turned backward, KNA hoodie sleeves shoved up his forearms, lanyard with his ID hanging loose around his neck. His dark hair looked like heβd run his hands through it on his way over, and there was that damned easy grin curling his mouth, like life never really had the nerve to slap him.
βNice of you to join us,β you said, straightening up. βDid you get lost? Need someone to show you how to tell time?β
His eyes flicked over youβhead to toe, quick and sharpβand then back to your face, that grin sharpening into something more challenging.
βRelax, darlinβ,β he drawled, the southern lilt coating the word in honey and gasoline at the same time. βItβs two minutes past. You miss me that bad?β
βIn what world,β you shot back, βwould I ever need more of you?β
βCareful.β Todd set his coffee cup down on the table between your flyers like he owned the space. βSay stuff like that, people might start thinkinβ youβre obsessed.β
Luke coughed to cover a laugh. Miles outright snorted.
You rolled your eyes. βObsessed? Please. Youβre just everywhere. Like a campus rash.β
βHot rash,β Miles muttered.
You elbowed him. βYouβre not helping.β
Todd leaned forward on his hands, close enough that you caught a hint of his cologne under the darker scent of coffee. βYou keep talkinβ about me like that, sunshine, somebodyβs gonna think you like me.β
βThat would be a tragic misunderstanding,β you said sweetly. βAnyway, since you finally decided to grace us with your presence, you can actually do something. Take a stack and make yourself useful.β
βMy pleasure.β He slid a stack of flyers toward himself, eyes never leaving yours. βLetβs see if we canβt get some people who actually wanna show up to this thing.β
βThat implies you know how to talk to people without inflating your own ego,β you replied.
βWatch me.β
The morning settled into a pattern almost immediately: students drifting past on their way to class, Todd flipping his charm on like a light switch, you matching it with a polished, practiced smile. To the passing crowd, you were all friendliness and jokes and easy banter. Underneath, you and Todd were tearing each other apart.
βSign up and you get free pizza at the event,β you said to a pair of girls walking by, handing them each a flyer. βPlus, you get to watch the KNA boys try to do community service. Itβs adorable.β
One of them laughed, glancing past you at Todd. βAre you gonna be there?β
βUnfortunately,β you sighed under your breath.
βAbsolutely,β Todd said at the same time, stepping closer. He rested his hand casually at the edge of the table, inches from yours. βWouldnβt miss it.β
The girls exchanged a look. There was that familiar flicker in their eyes youβd seen a hundred timesβsomething like oh, theyβre a thing. You and Todd said it in unison, without even looking at each other.
βWeβre not together.β
The girls giggled, murmured something about βsure youβre not,β and walked away.
You turned on him. βThis is your fault.β
βMy fault?β he asked, incredulous. βFor standinβ here?β
βFor existing within five feet of me, for watching the way you do,β you said.
Toddβs mouth tugged up at one corner, like heβs been caught. He did have a bit of a staring problem. βYou say that like itβs a bad thing.β
Miles, rearranging the donation jar, winced. βCan we please remember there are other people here?β
βYβall act like weβre not used to it,β Luke muttered, exchanging a look with another brother. βI feel like Iβm third-wheelinβ whenever theyβre in the same zip code. For people that hate each other, theyβre around each other far too much.β
βFourth,β the other guy said.
Todd picked up another handful of flyers and moved a few steps down, intercepting a group of guys. βHey, boys, you like not beinβ terrible people? Come sign up for a charity event.β
You scoffed. βWow. Inspirational.β
βIβm a man of the people, sunshine,β he said. βUnlike some folks who think glaring counts as outreach.β
βYou literally charged a freshman five bucks to help him find his classroom last week,β you said.
βHe offered,β Todd replied smoothly. βIt was a donation. To the βKeep Todd in Perfect Conditionβ fund.β
βTragic cause,β you said. βI hope it fails.β
The hours dragged and snapped all at once. The stream of students didnβt stop, and every time you and Todd werenβt talking to someone else, you were sniping at each other.
βYour handwriting is awful,β he said at one point, leaning over you and the sign-up sheet. βYou tryinβ to make sure we canβt follow up with anybody?β
βAt least I can spell βphilanthropy,ββ you replied. βHow many tries did it take you for the banner?β
βMy bannerβs perfect,β he said, glancing at the KNA side. It was slightly crooked. You smiled. His jaw ticked. βYou touch that?β
βWould I do that?β you asked innocently.
βSo, Yes.β He said, confirming without hesitation.
When the foot traffic slowed around midday, boredom started creeping in. Todd, apparently unable to exist without turning something into a contest, leaned on the table and smirked at you. βAll right,β he said. βNew game.β
βNo,β you said immediately.
βWhoever gets more people to put their number down in the next thirty minutes wins,β he went on, ignoring you. βLoser has toβ¦hmm.β His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. βWear the other personβs letters for a day.β
You stared at him, horrified. βI am not walking around campus in a KNA shirt.β
βScared?β he asked, grin widening.
βYouβre actually psychotic,β you said. βAnd no, Iβm not scared. I just have dignity.β
βHm.β He rocked back on his heels. βSounds like fear.β
You grit your teeth. βFine. Youβre on.β
He straightened like heβd just been crowned king again. βAttagirl.β
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, but you grabbed a fresh stack of flyers and moved out from behind the table. You started with what you were good at: easy conversation, jokes, making people feel like they were in on something. You smiled, laughed, complimented a girlβs shoes, asked a guy about his major. A few scribbled their numbers; a few rolled their eyes and walked away. Pretty standard. Then you caught sight of Todd. Heβd positioned himself right at the center of the walkway, hat pushed back just enough that his eyes were clear and bright. He was laughing with a group of girls, one of them already writing on the clipboard, another tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked up at him. His hand brushed one of their shoulders as he leaned in to say something, and she giggled like sheβd just been personally blessed. Your jaw clenched. Of course he would be good at this. Of course. You stalked back to the table and dropped your dwindling stack of flyers next to Miles.
βHowβs it going?β he asked, smirking.
βI hate him,β you said.
βYouβve said that like twelve times today,β Luke pointed out.
βHasnβt stopped being true,β you shot back.
But your eyes were still on Todd, on the way he smiled down at the girl in front of him, on the way she tilted her head up at him like sheβd just stepped into a movie. Your stomach did something you refused to name. You inhaled, slow and steady. Then you straightened, slid your fingers under the hem of your top, and tugged it down just enough to accentuate what God and a good push-up bra had given you. You shook your hair out a little, rolled your shoulders back, and pasted on your brightest smile.
When you stepped away from the table again, you knew exactly who your target audience was. Within ten minutes, you had a small cluster of easily-distracted college boys circling your end of the walkway. They were all smiles and eager nods, leaning in to talk to you as you explained the event, batting their stupid eyelashes.
βNo, yeah, itβs really important,β you said, touching a guyβs forearm lightly as you handed him a pen. βWeβre raising a lot. Youβd be a huge help.β You widened your eyes up at him, blinking as innocently as possible. And this guy was eating it up.
βOh, yeah, totally,β he said, eyes nowhere near your face. βAnything for charity.β
βThank you,β you said, letting your fingers linger for half a second longer than necessary. You could practically feel Toddβs stare burning into the side of your face.
You glanced over at him and smiled sweetly.
His expression was thunderous. βHowβs it going over there?β you called, projecting your voice just enough for the nearby students to hear.
He narrowed his eyes. βJust fine, darlinβ.β
βYou look mad,β you said. βIs it because Iβm winning? Or because you just realized your charm has competition?β
βYou think thatβs charm?β he retorted. βAll youβre doinβ is distractinβ dudes whoβd sign up for anything if you smiled at βem.β
βJealousy is so ugly on you,β you said lightly. βAlmost as ugly as that hat.β
Luke made a strangled noise, like he was trying to laugh and swallow his tongue at the same time. One of the guys at your sideβsome sophomore youβd never metβglanced between you and Todd, eyebrows high.
βAre you guys likeβ¦together?β he asked.
You and Todd snapped your answers so fast they overlapped.
βNo.β
βNever.β
The sophomore raised his hands. βOkay, damn. Just asking. The vibe isβ¦intense.β
βYeah,β one of his friends added. βLike, βwe definitely hate-fucked in a stairwell onceβ intense.β
βWe didnβt,β you said immediately.
βWouldnβt pick a stairwell,β Todd said under his breath.
Your head snapped toward him. βWhat does that mean?β
βNothing, sunshine,β he said, his gaze dropping for half a heartbeat before he dragged it back up. βFocus on your little numbers.β
By the time the organizing committee came by to relieve you, the sign-up sheets were covered in names and numbers and the donation jars were heavy with crumpled bills. Your feet ached, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and every muscle in your shoulders was tight from holding yourself back from strangling Todd with his own lanyard.
You were packing up the last of the flyers when Luke wandered over. Hugging you goodbye, he glanced between you and Todd with blatant amusement.
βHey,β he said, stretching his arms over his head. βWeβre throwinβ a party tonight. Big one. You should come.β
You straightened, surprised. βMe?β
βYeah, you.β He grinned. βYou kept us entertained all day, you earned an invite. Come de-stress. Kegβs already in the basement.β
Todd, who had been tossing the leftover flyers into a box, went still. βShe doesnβt wanna come to our party,β he said, not looking at you. βSheβd rather sit at home and write hate speeches about me or whatever it is she does to unwind.β
You folded your arms. βYou do realize inviting people is the entire point of this booth, right?β
βSo is not subjectinβ my house to you and Miles constant yappingβ,β he shot back. βItβs a miracle the campus police havenβt given yβall a noise complaint just for beinβ in the same room.β
Luke looked between you, eyes sparkling. βI mean, if you donβt wanna comeβ¦β
βIβll be there,β you said.
Todd finally looked up at you, eyes dark. βWhat?β
You shrugged, careful to keep your voice airy. βWouldnβt miss the chance to watch you drink cheap beer and lose at beer pong.β
Luke whooped. βHell yeah! This is gonna be good. Wear something fun. Something sexy.β
βOh, she will,β Miles said under his breath.
βShut up,β you muttered, but your face felt warm.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped around the table, giving Todd one last bright, antagonistic smile. βTry not to trip over your ego before tonight, president.β
He scoffed. βTry not to break anything when you inevitably storm out, sunshine.β
You walked away down the path, feeling his gaze heavy between your shoulder blades. You didnβt have to turn around to know he was still watching. You could feel it, the way you could feel the sun on your skin.
Behind you, Lukeβs voice floated over the crowd.
βDude, as if you donβt wanna see her in a tiny dress.β
βShut the hell up,β Todd muttered, elbowing him hard in the arm. βYβall are delusional.β
But he didnβt stop looking until you turned the corner.
ββββ
By the time you actually made it to the KNA house that night, the party was in full swing.
The bass thumped so hard you could feel it on the sidewalk. The front lawn was littered with bodiesβpeople laughing, red cups in hand, leaning against the porch railing or perched on the steps. Lights spilled out from every window, warm and chaotic. You tugged your zip-up sweater a little tighter around yourself as you walked up the path, the cool night air prickling at your bare legs. The tight black dress underneath rode up just enough to be dangerous every time you took a bigger step. Glitter dusted your collarbones, your shoulders, the edge of your hairline, catching the light when you moved like youβd rolled in a galaxy before walking out the door.
Your stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the knowledge that Todd was inside somewhere. You stepped into the house, swallowing thick, warm air that tasted like beer and sweat and cheap cologne. People pressed in around you, laughing, shouting over the music. You wove through the crowd, the beat pounding under your feet, brushing past strangers and familiar faces.
And then, through the shifting bodies and flashing lights, you saw him. Todd stood on the other side of the living room near the makeshift bar, one hand braced on the counter, red cup dangling from the other. His hat was gone, hair tousled like heβd been running his fingers through it all night. He was laughing at something one of his brothers said, head tipped back slightly.
He looked up.
Your eyes met across the crowded room.
His grin froze, just for a second. His gaze did a slow, unmistakable sweep over youβleg, dress, the open line of your sweater, the glitter in your hairβbefore snapping back to your face. His jaw clenched. You lifted your hand and flipped him off. That broke the spell. He laughed, shook his head, downed the rest of whatever was in his cup in one go, and started toward you. You turned, determined not to look impressed as he closed the distance between you.
βWell, well,β he drawled when he reached you, the accent coming out thicker with the alcohol. βLook who actually showed up.β
βShockingly,β you said, arching a brow. βI am a woman of my word.β
He let his gaze drag down you again, slower this time. βYouβre late.β
You scoffed. βTo your party?β
βHouse opens at nine,β he said. βYou stroll in when you feel like it and expect the red carpet?β
You leaned in, lips tugging into a smirk. βYou should be grateful. Attendance just improved significantly.β
He huffed out a laugh. βGod, youβre insufferable.β
You spread your arms slightly, letting your sweater fall open enough that he had no choice but to notice the dress underneath. βAnd yet, here I am. Whereβs my welcome drink, president?β
His eyes flicked again, electricity sparking in the air for one dizzy second before he tore them away. βYou got two hands, donβt you? The fridge still works.β
βOh, wow,β you said. βSo hospitable.β
βYou want somethinβ or you just here to complain?β he asked, fighting a smile.
βI want you to stop wasting my time and give me a drink,β you said. βSince youβre so obsessed with controlling everything in this house.β
He rolled his eyes but jerked his chin toward the kitchen. βCome on, then. Try not to trip.β
You followed him through the kitchen doorway, ducking past a couple making out against the doorframe. The kitchen was marginally quieter, the music dulled by distance, but the counters were still littered with cups, open bags of chips, sticky puddles of spilled beer.
Todd opened the fridge and whistled low. βWell, shit.β
βWhat?β you asked, stepping closer.
He shifted to the side so you could see. The fridge was nearly empty. Two sad-looking hard seltzers sat on the bottom shelf, along with a solitary bottle of beer. βThatβs it?β you asked. βThis house has fifty dudes in it and you didnβt think to stock up?β
βWe did,β he said. βYou vultures drank it.β
He reached for the beer, fingers closing around the neck of the bottle.
βYou can have one of the coolers,β he added. βWouldnβt want you crashinβ my vibe any more than necessary.β
Before he could pull the bottle out, your hand shot forward. You snatched it from under his fingers, popped the cap off against the counter with a practiced twist, and lifted it to your lips.
His eyes narrowed. βYou only did that because I wanted it.β
βThereβs coolers right there for you, darlinβ,β you said, mimicking his drawl as you tilted the bottle back.
You chugged, the cold bitterness rushing down your throat, the faint fizz tickling your nose. The room blurred just a little at the edges as you swallowed, not stopping until the glass was empty. You slammed the bottle down on the counter, breathing a little harder, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Todd stared at you, something like surprise and reluctant admiration flickering across his face.
βWell,β he said slowly. βColor me impressed.β
You shrugged, pretending your head wasnβt already buzzing. βIβm full of surprises.β
He leaned closer, looming without even trying. βYou keep talkinβ like that, someone might think youβre tryinβ to impress me.β
βIf I was trying to impress you,β you said, βIβd win something.β
As if on cue, someone shouted from the living room. βYo! Todd! Get your ass over here, we need a ringer!β
Another voice followed. βBring your mortal enemy, too!β
Todd snorted, glancing toward the doorway. βBeer pong. You game, sunshine? Or you scared Iβm gonna clean the floor with you?β
βYouβre drunk,β you said. βYouβll miss every cup.β
βThat a no?β he asked.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the door. βItβs a βIβm about to ruin your nightβ actually.β
The dining room table had been commandeered as a beer pong arena, plastic cups arranged in bright red triangles at either end. A cluster of people crowded around, chanting, cheering, shouting rules that contradicted each other.
Luke waved as you and Todd approached. βThere they are! Perfect. Todd, youβre with me. Youββ he nodded at you ββare with Jamie. Loser has to do a shot of whateverβs in that sketchy jug.β
You eyed the unmarked container on the sideboard. βIβll pass.β
βCoward,β Todd said.
βShut up,β you replied, moving to your end of the table. Jamie, a girl from another sorority, handed you a ball.
βYou any good?β she asked.
βDecent,β you said. βWeβre gonna win.β
βThatβs the spirit,β Jamie said, grinning.
On the other end, Todd rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for a championship game.
βThat form is tragic,β you called, watching him line up his first shot. βYour elbowβs all over the place.β
βDonβt worry, sunshine,β he said. βI donβt miss.β
He missed. The ball bounced off the rim of the front cup and skittered onto the floor.
The room exploded with laughter. You clapped slowly. βWow. Iconic performance. Truly presidential.β
βShut the fuck up,β he said, but there was color in his cheeks.
You took your time with your shot, spinning the ball between your fingers, letting him watch you. You tracked the distance, the line, let the noise fade to a dull roar. Then you flicked your wrist and let it fly. The ball dropped cleanly into the middle cup. The room roared again, but this time for you.
Toddβs lips parted. He tipped his head forward once, almost like a nod. βOkay then.β
βYou were saying?β you asked sweetly, as Todd pulled the cup and took the obligatory sip.
Toddβs next throw landed. So did yours. It only got worse from thereβfor him.
Every time you scored, you couldnβt help glancing up at him, heat and triumph curling in your chest. Every time, he was already looking at you.
βGettinβ cocky,β he said after your third straight shot sank.
βJust accurate,β you replied. βMaybe you should take notes.β
βYou talk a lot for someone who hasnβt seen me sober on this table,β he said.
βI havenβt seen you sober anywhere,β you shot back.
βSounds like youβre watchinβ close,β he drawled.
Jamie elbowed you lightly. βHeβs really pushing the βI want your attentionβ agenda, huh?β
βNope,β Todd and you both snapped, which only made everyone laugh harder.
Somewhere to your left, someone said loudly, βOh my God, just fuck already and get it over with.β
You swore you felt the temperature in the room spike. You and Todd both jerked your heads toward the source of the comment, then snapped back to each other.
βThatβs nasty,β you said.
βNot in this lifetime,β Todd said.
But his gaze dipped, for just a fraction of a second, to your mouth. You swallowed.
You made the final shot a little harder than you needed to, anger and adrenaline and something else burning in your veins. The ball arced high, seemed for a moment like it would overshoot, then dropped perfectly into the last solitary cup on Toddβs side.
The room went insane.
βGame!β Jamie yelled, throwing her hands up. She grabbed you in a sideways hug, sloshing beer onto your dress. βYou crushed him!β
Todd stared at the empty spot on the table, expression blank for one, two beats.
Then he exhaled slowly and smiled.
βGuess you got me this time,β he said.
You basked in it for a second, letting victory warm you. Then you leaned over the table, meeting his eyes head-on.
βTry not to cry about it, president.β
βIβll survive,β he replied. βYou gonna hover and gloat or you actually got somewhere to be in my house?β
βYouβre welcome for gracing your table,β you said, straightening up. βIβm taking a lap. Try not to lose anything else while Iβm gone.β
You slipped away before he could answer, weaving through the crush of bodies. The house felt even hotter nowβmusic pounding against your ribs, air thick with sweat, beer, and a sharp herbal note that made you pause. That familiar smell tugged you toward a side room just off the main hallwayβa den that had been half-claimed by a cluster of students. The lights were dimmer here, a warm lamp in the corner and the flicker of colored LEDs along the ceiling. Someone had shoved the furniture into a loose circle: a sagging couch, a couple of mismatched armchairs, people sitting cross-legged on the floor, a haze of smoke hovering near the ceiling. You stepped in and the noise from the rest of the party dulled into a muffled thump behind you, like someone had closed a door even though the entryway was wide open.
βHey!β a girl on the floor called, waving you over. βJoin the communion.β
You laughed under your breath. βThatβs a hell of a way to sell it.β
You dropped down onto the edge of the couch, tucking one leg under you, your dress sliding just enough that you tugged your sweater closer around you out of habit. The joint made its slow circuit around the circle, fingers and jokes passing with it.
When it reached you, the guy next to you held it out. βYou look like you need this.β
βYou have no idea,β you said, taking it from him.
The paper crackled softly when you brought the lighter up, putting fresh heat to the tip. You inhaled, lungs burning in that familiar way, the taste bitter and sharp and strangely comforting. The edges of the world softened almost immediately, the noise in your head dialling down from a scream to a loud hum. Youβd just taken your second drag when the doorway filled with a very familiar shape.
βI shouldβve known youβd track down the good stuff,β Todd drawled, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe.
You didnβt bother turning your head fully at first. βRelax. I didnβt touch your personal stash.β
He pushed off the frame and stepped into the room as if it already belonged to himβbecause, in a way, it did. People shifted to make space without even thinking about it. He moved around the side of the circle and dropped down next to you on the couch, close enough that your bare knee brushed his jeans.
βThere you are,β he said, settling in like this was the most natural thing in the world. βWin one game and you vanish on me.β
βI didnβt vanish,β you said. βI upgraded.β
βFrom beer pong with me toβ¦floor gremlins?β he asked, glancing around the circle.
You carefully kept your eyes on the glowing cherry at the end of the joint. βYouβre welcome to leave, you know. No oneβs begging you to sit here.β
βFunny,β he said. ββCause this seat was empty until I took it.β
You held the joint out without looking at him. βAre you just going to hog my oxygen or are you going to smoke?β
His fingers slid over yours as he took itβwarm, rough, lingering half a second longer than necessary. Your pulse jumped annoyingly fast. He put it to his mouth and drew in slow. You tried not to watch the way his lips closed around the paper, the way his throat moved when he swallowed the smoke. He held it for a beat, then exhaled in a lazy stream, the cloud curling through the dim light.
βNot bad,β he said, handing it back to you. βDidnβt peg you for quality.β
βObviously, you didnβt roll it,β you replied.
βThat the bar?β he asked. βAnything better than my cookinβ?β
βYou donβt cook,β you said.
He smiled. βYou donβt know that.β
βYou tried to microwave eggs in the chapter kitchen,β you countered.
The girl across from you winced. βOh my God, that was you? The smell lasted three days.β
βYβall hold grudges like itβs a sport,β Todd muttered.
βThatβs rich coming from you,β you said.
The joint kept moving around the circle, from hand to hand, mouth to mouth.
Conversations rose and fellβclasses, gossip, someoneβs disastrous situationshipβbut every line between you and Todd stayed taut, stretched tight across the small space between your bodies. At some point, your knees ended up fully pressed together. You werenβt sure when it happened. One second you were just sitting; the next, the solid warmth of his leg was aligned with yours, denim against your bare skin. Neither of you moved. It was his turn to watch as you took a long drag from the communal joint. He watched your chest as it rose and fall, the face you made as you held the smoke in your lungs, your lips wrapping tight around the joint as you inhaled. You looked quite beautiful, truly. But he would never admit that. You passed him the joint again. Your fingers brushed this time, slower, deliberate. He pretended not to notice. So did you.
βAnd here I was thinkinβ you werenβt a party girl,β he said eventually, voice low, like it was just for you. βGuess I donβt know everything about you, sunshine.β
βYou know nothing about me,β you said, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. βYou just like to think you do.β
βI know you hate losinβ,β he said. βI know you talk more trash than half my brothers. And I know you came to my house in that dress and then beat me in beer pong, so youβre either tryinβ to get my attention or you really enjoy torture.β
βMaybe both,β you muttered, then immediately wished you could snatch the words back out of the air. His eyes snapped to your face.
You cleared your throat, suddenly too warm. βYouβre high. Donβt read into it.β
ββCourse,β he said slowly. βWouldnβt dare, darlinβ.β
Before you could think of something sharp to throw back, another body dropped into a gap in the circle on the other side of youβa tall guy you vaguely recognized from campus, with messy dark hair and a lazy smile. You smiled up at him, your attention quickly stolen. He was definitely a welcomed addition to the circle.
βHey,β he said, glancing between you and the joint. βSpace for one more?β
βItβs not assigned seating,β you said, shifting just enough to let him fit. Toddβs leg stayed exactly where it was, bracketed along yours.
The newcomer extended his hand. βIβm Austin.β
You gave him your name, and his smile widened. βDidnβt expect to see you at KNA tonight.β
βPeer pressure,β you said. βAnd poor decision making.β
βThatβs basically their brand,β he replied, nodding toward Todd. Toddβs jaw flexed.
Austinβs attention slid back to you. βSo whatβs your major?β
You let yourself fall into the easy rhythm of that kind of conversation. You explained, joked about your workload, complained about a professor. Austin laughed at the right moments, asked follow-ups, leaned in a little closer each time he spoke. You could feel Toddβs focus narrowed on you like a laser, even when he pretended to be paying attention to the rest of the circle. When Austinβs shoulder brushed yours as he took his turn with the joint, you didnβt move away. You watched Toddβs mouth flatten into a harder line, watched his hand tighten lightly against his knee.
Austin nodded toward him casually. βYou two here together?β You answered so fast your words collided with Toddβs.
βAbsolutely not.β
βHell no.β
Austin laughed. βAll right, all right. My bad. Justβ¦youβve got a vibe.β
βItβs called mutual loathing,β you said.
βSure,β he said easily. βWhatever helps you sleep at night.β
The joint made another loop. You took one more slow drag, feeling the combination of weed and alcohol melting your edges. The room was warm, your skin warmer, the press of Toddβs leg against yours almost unbearably noticeable now.
You shifted forward on the couch. βIβm getting another drink. You want anything?β you asked Austin.
βSurprise me,β he said, grinning. βDealerβs choice.β
βBold,β you said, but you smiled anyway and pushed yourself to your feet.
The den seemed to exhale when you stood, the smoke swirling differently. The hallway outside felt immediately louder, music slamming back into you like a wave. You navigated your way to the kitchen, grabbed a cup, poured something vaguely drinkable into it, and stood there for a second, palms flat on the counter, letting your head catch up with your body. When you made your way back toward the den, cup in hand, the energy in the house feltβ¦off. Not dramatically, just shifted. You reached the doorway and stopped. Austin wasnβt where youβd left him. In fact, he wasnβt in the room at all. Your gaze flicked past the den, down the hall toward the front of the house, just in time to see two KNA brothers guiding Austin toward the open front doorβone on each side, hands firm on his arms. He wasnβt resisting, just arguing loudly.
βDude, thatβs insane,β he was saying. βI wasnβt doing anything. I was literally just talking to a girl!β
βYeah, well, youβre done talking here,β one of the brothers said, pushing the door open wider.
Cold air from outside cut briefly through the humid heat of the hallway as they moved him out. The door closed, and the music swallowed the moment like nothing had happened. You turned slowly. Todd was leaning against the wall just outside the den, arms folded, expression frustratingly neutral. Your temper snapped back to full strength in an instant.
βWhat the hell was that?β you demanded, storming up to him.
He blinked, feigning innocence badly. βWhat was what?β
βDonβt start,β you said, jabbing a finger toward the front of the house. βYou just had your little minions throw Austin out. Damn it Todd! He was hot.β You stomped your foot in annoyance, which only made Todd laugh in response.
He pushed off the wall, straightening to his full height. βTheyβre not minions.β
βFine. Henchmen,β you corrected. βHappy?β
βYou givinβ me supervillain now?β he asked.
βIf the evil lair fits,β you shot back. βAnswer the question.β
He exhaled, annoyance flickering across his face. βI didnβt βhaveβ anyone do anything.β
βSo they just randomly picked the one guy I was talking to and decided to escort him out into the night?β you asked, incredulous. βThatβs some coincidence.β
βI donβt like him,β Todd said flatly.
βYou donβt even know him,β you argued.
βI donβt like the way he was lookinβ at you,β he said, voice dropping.
You stared at him. βHe didnβt even touch me.β
βDidnβt like the way he was thinkinβ about it either,β he muttered.
Your laugh came out sharper than you intended. βYou hear yourself? You sound like a jealous boyfriend.β
βIβm not your boyfriend,β he said instantly, but his words had a rough edge to them, stripped of their usual smoothness. His gaze dragged down you and back up before he seemed to realize it. βI just donβt like other people lookinβ at whatβs mine.β
You froze. You could tell the moment Todd regretted what came out of his mouth, but thereβs was no turning back now. The hallway suddenly felt too narrow, the music too loud, your heartbeat too obvious.
βYours?β you repeated, your voice low. βI donβt belong to you, Todd.β
βI know,β he said, softer now, but he didnβt look away. βI know that.β
βClearly you donβt,β you snapped. βBecause you just ran a guy out of your house for the crime of having a conversation with me. You donβt get a say in who I talk to.β
βI didnβt like him,β he repeated stubbornly.
βAnd?β you demanded. βNewsflash, president: nobody asked.β
He shifted, jaw ticking. βYouβre really mad about this?β
βYes, Iβm really mad,β you said. βYou donβt get to police my life because youβve decided Iβm some kind of territorial hobby.β
His mouth parted like he was going to argue, then closed again. The muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed.
βIβm notββ He cut himself off, frustrated. βForget it.β
βGladly,β you said, even though the knot in your chest didnβt feel anything like forgetting. βIβm going to go find some actual company before you can kick them out too.β
You turned on your heel before he could answer, shoving past a couple making out in the hallway, through the kitchen, out the sliding glass door to the backyard. The cold hit you instantly, cutting through your glitter and bare legs and thin sweater. You welcomed it. It cleared your head in a way the stale heat inside couldnβt. The yard was relatively empty compared to the interiorβjust a few people on the grass, one guy singing badly near the fence, the muffled bass seeping through the walls.
Someone out on the patio was flicking a lighter. You stepped closer, and they offered you their pack without a word, eyes half-lidded with their own high. βYou look like you need this,β they said lazily.
You huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh. βThat obvious?β
βKind of,β they admitted.
You plucked a cigarette from the pack, lifted it to your lips, and cupped your hands around the flame as you lit it. The first drag seared its way down your throat, harsh and grounding. Smoke coiled in front of you, disappearing into the cold night. The sliding door opened again behind you. You didnβt have to look.
βYou here to drag me back in too?β you asked, eyes on the faint orange glow at the end of your cigarette.
The door shut with a soft thud. Toddβs footsteps crossed the boards until he was beside you, leaning on the railing, gaze on the dark yard. βNah,β he said. βYouβre the only thing keepinβ this place entertaininβ tonight. Be stupid to kick you out.β
βDonβt flatter me,β you muttered.
βNot flatterinβ you,β he said quietly. βJust tellinβ the truth.β
The music bled through the walls, dull and rhythmic. Out here, every little sound felt magnifiedβthe scratch of your nail against the filter as you tapped ash off, the distant laughter from the front lawn, the wet sound of someone tripping in the grass and cursing. You held the cigarette between your fingers for a moment, then extended it toward him, still not quite meeting his eyes.
βWant some,β you asked, βor are you just here to brood?β
His fingers wrapped around yours as he took it. The contact was brief and warm and far too much for how small it was. He lifted it to his mouth, inhaled, and let the smoke drift out slowly, watching it disappear into the cold. βYou really meant it, huh,β you said after a moment.
He glanced sideways. βWhat?β
βAll that βmineβ bullshit,β you said. βBecause if that was some macho drunk line, you picked the wrong audience.β
βI was drunk-ish before I said it,β he admitted. βAnd high after. Donβt think either of those changed what I meant.β
You scoffed, but it sounded more tired than you wanted. βYou do not get to be jealous.β
βI know,β he said.
βYou do not get to claim me,β you added.
He exhaled, smoke curling from his lips as he handed the cigarette back. βI know that too.β
βDoesnβt sound like you do,β you muttered. βYou donβt own me, Todd.β
βIβm not tryinβ to own you,β he said, harshness slipping into the words. βIβm justββ
βActing like you do,β you cut in. βThat guy didnβt do anything wrong. He didnβt touch me. He didnβt even get a phone number. You just saw him talk to me and your caveman brain short-circuited.β
βYou callinβ me primitive now?β he asked.
βIf the shoe fits,β you said.
He shook his head, jaw clenched, eyes fixed somewhere out over the yard. βHe was lookinβ at you like you were somethinβ he could just pick up and take home without askinβ. Like you were his dinner. I donβt like that.β
βAnd youβre different?β you challenged. βYou donβt look at girls like that?β
His answer came low and immediate. βNot you.β
That tripped you up for a second.
You swallowed, lifting the cigarette again mostly for something to do with your hands.
βYou treat me like a problem,β you saix, exhaling. βSomething you have to win against. You think thatβs better?β
βYou are a problem,β he said, but there wasnβt any real bite in it. βYou fight me on everythinβ. Imagine if you were nice sometimes. Might get you farther.β
βYou deserve it,β you said automatically.
βMaybe I do,β he admitted. βDoesnβt mean I can sit inside watchinβ you get cozy with some dude Iβve never seen before like itβs none of my business.β
βIt isnβt your business,β you insisted. βThatβs the point.β
He stared at you, frustration and something more dangerous tangling in his expression. βYou act like Iβm tryinβ to put a leash on you or somethinβ. Iβm not. I justββ He cut himself off again, dragging a hand through his hair.
You ground the cigarette out on the edge of the railing, pressing until the ember died. βYou know what? Iβm not doing this right now. Iβm going to go inside, Iβm going to find someone who doesnβt piss me off every time he opens his mouth, and Iβm going toββ
You turned toward the door. His hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist.
Everything in you went very, very still.
His grip was firm but not painful, fingers circling your wrist easily. Your pulse thudded against his skin like it was trying to get his attention.
βLet go,β you said quietly.
He didnβt.
βCome with me,β he said instead, voice rougher than before.
You glared at him. βIβm not one of your pledges. You donβt get to bark orders and expect me to fall in line.β
βIβm not orderinβ you,β he said. βIβm askinβ as me. Justβ¦come with me.β
You wanted to tell him to go to hell. The words lined up on your tongue, ready.
They didnβt come out.
βTwo minutes,β you said finally. βThen Iβm leaving.β
He released your wrist slowly, like he didnβt trust you not to bolt, then turned and slid the door open again. You followed him back into the heat and noise, up the staircase just off the kitchen, away from the thudding bass and beer-stickied floors. The hallway upstairs was dim and quiet, lit by a couple of weak lamps and the spill from half-open bedroom doors. He led you down to the end and pushed open a door with his shoulder.
You stepped into his room.
It smelled like himβfresh laundry, a sharp thread of cologne, and a faint undercurrent of weed. The bed was unmade, sheets twisted; textbooks and notebooks were scattered on the desk beside a half-empty mug; KNA banners and photos papered the walls in a collage of his life. You had just enough time to register the chaos before the door clicked shut behind you. You started to turn, but he moved faster.
Your back met the wood with a soft thud, your shoulders pressed against it, his hands already planted at your waistβnot rough, not shoving, just solid and unyielding, pinning you in place while leaving you more than enough room to tell him to stop.
His face hovered inches from yours. The echoes of the party downstairs were a distant rumble now, nothing compared to the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, smell beer and smoke and something undeniably Todd.
βWhat the hell are you doing?β you asked, but it came out quieter than you meant, the edges of your words frayed with nerves.
He swallowed hard, his Adamβs apple bobbing. βApparently? Somethinβ really stupid.β
βStory of your life,β you managed.
He huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh if it werenβt so strained. βYou drive me insane, you know that?β
βGood,β you said automatically. βI hope it hurts.β
βIt does,β he said simply.
His eyes searched your face like he was trying to memorize itβevery line, every twitch, every breath. Underneath the frustration and the stubbornness, there was something rawer there. Something you werenβt used to seeing on him.
βYou fight me on everythinβ,β he said quietly. βYou never listen. You make me look like an idiot in front of my own brothers. You come into my house lookinβ like that and beat me at my own game and then act surprised when I lose my mind a little over you.β
βYouβre very dramatic for a frat boy,β you said, but your voice was shaking.
βYeah, well,β he murmured, his forehead dipping a fraction closer to yours, βyou bring it out of me.β
You could shove him back. There was enough give in his grip that you could slip out from between him and the door. You could walk downstairs, out the front, away from all of it. You didnβt move.
βSay it,β you said instead, your gaze locked on his. βWhatever youβre choking on. Finish the sentence, Todd.β
His fingers tightened on your waist, just enough to make you aware of every place you were touching. His chest brushed yours with each shallow breath. βI want you,β he said, the words dragged out of him like they cost something. βAnd I hate that I do. There. Happy now?β
Your breath caught.
βThatβs your big confession?β you asked, but the sarcasm came out soft, your mouth suddenly dry. βTrap me in your room and tell me you want me like youβre mad about it?β
βThe doorβs right behind you,β he said, and you felt his grip loosen just enough to prove the point. βYou wanna go, go. Iβm not stoppinβ you.β
You didnβt reach for the handle. Instead, you lifted your chin that tiny, dangerous amount and closed the last inch between you, until your nose brushed his, until his breath hit your mouth and yours hit his.
βYou think Iβm yours,β you whispered. βProve it.β
Something in him snappedβwhatever fragile thing had been holding him back all night finally giving way. His hands flexed at your waist, drawing you tighter against him, the rest of the world dropping away like someone had flipped a switch. For a heartbeat, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, like he needed that split second to steady himself.
βCareful what you ask for, sunshine,β he murmured, his accent thicker, voice rougher. βYou might not like what you get.β
Your pulse roared.
βTry me,β you breathed.
The last thing you saw before his mouth found yours was the crooked, infuriating, absolutely devastating half-smile that always meant he was about to cross a line he couldnβt uncross. His mouth crashes into yoursβrough, teeth clashing, no gentleness in the hate-fueled kiss. You bite his lip hard enough to draw a hiss from him, and he retaliates by grinding his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock pressing through his jeans. Your hands fumble at his shirt, yanking it open, buttons scattering like accusations. He rips at the straps of your dress, exposing your shoulders, your bra, but when you grab the hem to pull it over your head, his hand clamps down on yours.
"Keep it on," he orders, voice gravelly, eyes raking over you like he's already won.
Confusion flickers, but the heat between your legs drowns it out. He drops to his knees in front of you, your back still pressed against the door, his hands quick as they slip off your shoes. You barely register the cool floor under your feet before he's hooking one of your legs over his broad shoulder, the dress hiking up your thighs. No warning, no teasing wordsβjust his mouth diving in, hot and insistent over the thin black lace of your panties. A gasp rips from your throat as his tongue presses flat against the fabric, lapping at your folds through the barrier. The lace is so sheer it's torture, every flick and suck sending jolts straight to your core. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands, pulling hard because you can't help it, because you want to hurt him even as he devours you.
"Fuck, Toddβ" you moan, hips bucking involuntarily. He's relentless, nose nudging your clit while his tongue works the dampening lace, the friction building that coil in your belly tighter and tighter. You're so close, thighs trembling, waiting for him to pull the panties to the side, when he pulls back abruptly, lips glistening, a smirk curling as you whine in frustration.
"Aw, what's that? Cat got your tongue?" he taunts, standing up slow, towering over you again.
Your retort dies on your lips; he's got you now, the edging leaving you breathless, needy, words failing under the weight of it.
He grabs your hips, yanking the dress up until your ass is bare beneath, the fabric bunching at your waist. With a gentle tug, he pulls you toward the bed, the full-length mirror propped right in front mocking you both. You know exactly what it's forβvoyeuristic bullshit, probably from one of his flingsβbut right now, with your pussy throbbing from his mouth, you don't give a damn.
He pushes you forward, bending you over the edge of the mattress, your palms hitting the sheets as your ass lifts high, exposed and vulnerable. The cool air hits your skin, panties clinging damply. He moves all your hair off to the right side, kissing the back of your shoulder softly.
"Matching set, huh?" he says, voice dripping condescension as his fingers trace the lace edging your cheeks. "Dressed up all pretty under that dress, just begging for someone to notice. Were you hoping iβd notice?β
You twist your head, glaring over your shoulder. "Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to fuck me?" You couldnβt believe the words coming out of your mouth. Especially directed at Todd fucking Stevenβs.
He chuckles, dark and triumphant, pushing you forward just enough to arch your back even deeper. His belt unbuckles with a metallic clink that echoes in the room, pants dropping to his ankles in a rustle. You hear him fist himselfβthick, heavyβbefore he finally shoves your panties aside, the lace scraping roughly. Then he's there, the blunt head of his cock nudging your entrance, and with one brutal thrust, he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A sharp cry tears from your lips, the stretch burning sweet and sudden, his size filling you so completely it borders on pain.
βOh godβfuck!"
He instantly stills and leans forward, checking to make sure youβre ok. You nod quickly, urging him to keep going. He smirks and mimics your whine in that mocking falsetto, hips snapping once, deep. "Oh fuck huh? You canβt take all that, sunshine?β
Leaning over you, his chest presses to your back, one hand fisting your hair and yanking your head up. Your eyes lock on the mirrorβyour flushed face, dress hiked obscenely, his jeans pooled at his feet as he looms behind you, cock disappearing into you.
"You're going to watch in that mirror while I fuck you, okay?" he demands, breath hot on your neck, pulling harder until you're forced to meet your own gaze, wide and hazy.
You nod, biting your lip, the submission stinging even as it amps the heat. Youβll regret this laterβletting him order you around like thisβbut right now, with him splitting you open, it feels too damn good to fight. He starts moving then, pulling out slow before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm that has the bed creaking under you. You're loudβmoans spilling out unchecked, echoing off the wallsβand he eats it up, grinning feral in the reflection.
"That's it, scream for me. Let the whole party hear how much you need me. Bet they've all wondered why you're always riding my assβnow they know."
Your fingers claw the sheets, knuckles white, body jolting with every thrust. The weed and alcohol blur the edges, turning everything into a drunken haze of sensation, but the hate lingers sharp underneath, fueling the fire. You've both thought about this nonstopβstolen glances turning into fevered fantasies of pinning the other down, of finally shutting up that smug mouth with your body. What it'd feel like when he first pushed inside, thick and unyielding, claiming what you've denied wanting.
"God, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pace unrelenting, hips snapping forward with wet slaps. "Knew you'd feel like thisβgripping me like you hate to love it. Look at you, taking it so well. Pretty nice when you arenβt running your mouth.β
His words twist the knife, praising and degrading in the same breath, and you watch it all in the mirrorβyour tits bouncing under the bunched dress, his abs flexing as he drives deeper. He's staring too, eyes glued to your ass cheeks rippling against his pelvis, his cock slick and shining as it slides in and out, the lace panties crooked and soaked. The sight makes him moan low, guttural, vibrating through you.
"Fuck, your ass looks incredible like thisβbouncing on my dick, dress all bunched up around your hips. Better than I pictured every goddamn night. Didn't think you'd squeeze me this good, though. Shit, you're ruining me."
He leans forward more, one hand digging into your hip to hold you steady, the other sliding up your spine to grab your hair again, arching you just right. The angle shifts, his cock hitting that spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyes, and you cry out louder, the sound raw and broken.
"Tell me," he pants, thrusting harder, voice edged with that condescending tease. "Tell me exactly how you imagined this. How you'd picture me fucking you senselessβbegging, needy for it.β
You whimper, the words tumbling out in the haze, hating how honest it feels. "IβI thought it'd be me on top," you gasp, voice hitching with each pound. "Riding you until you broke, making you beg for mercy while I used your cock. Thought I'd hate how good you felt, but fuck you anyway, over and over, until we both admitted nothing."
He laughs breathlessly, the sound turning into a groan as he slams deeper. "That's my girlβtwisted fantasies just like mine. But look at you now, bent over and taking it. This is how it should always be. Keep watching, yeah? See how you're dripping for me? You look so beautiful.β
You're nodding frantically, eyes locked on the mirror, the visual pushing you closerβyour face contorted in reluctant ecstasy, his smug grin as he watches you unravel. He doesn't let up, rhythm brutal, dirty talk pouring out like venom-laced honey. "So fucking perfect when you're like thisβmoaning my name, ass jiggling just right. Knew you'd be a mess for me. Cum on this cock, show me how bad you've wanted it."
The praise hits like a slap, condescending edge making your walls clench harder around him. He feels it, groans louder, his own control fraying. "Yeah, just like thatβ so good at listening.β
It builds too fast, the tension snapping as your orgasm crashes over you, a wail ripping from your throat that surely carries downstairs. Your pussy pulses around him, milking his cock, and he doesn't stopβthrusting through it, drawing out every shudder until you're trembling, oversensitive and spent.
"Fuckβyes," he grits out, pulling your hair tighter, hips stuttering. With a final, deep shove, he comes hard, hot spurts flooding you as he buries his face in the back of your shoulder, moaning your defeat into your skin.
He stays like that a beat, both of you panting, the mirror reflecting the wreckageβsweat-slicked, clothes askew. He pulls himself out of you slowly, and laughs to himself as you flop over, still panting. you watch as he reaches into his drawers and pulls out a t-shirt and boxers for you to wear. As you change into his clothes, Todd holds a bottle of water out for you. You take it and drink from it slowly, wondering at what point heβll open his mouth and kick you to the curb. Instead he doesnβt, turning any lights in the room off and crawling into bed. You start to gather your clothes, looking for wherever your phone was tossed and heading towards the door before he stops you.
βWhere you going?β You turn to see Todd cozied up in bed, the blanket flipped open, a clear invitation for you. You stare at it for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He flops into bed with a sigh. βWe can still hate each other tomorrow, but iβm not letting you leave after all that.β
You try to cover the smile that creeps onto your face as you crawl into bed next to him. His arm drapes over you, warm and heavy, tugging you into him. βWhatever, weirdo. Didnβt peg you for a cuddler.β
He huffs into his pillow. βShut the hell up and go to sleep.β
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If I ever share anything that was AI generated it is purely by accident. I hate that it's getting harder and harder to tell and it makes me want to never use the internet again. It definitely had its faults, but man I miss the internet of the 2000s so much.
trying to write a dirty dean x sex therapist reader smut.
and this accidentally turned into a slight analysis of deanβs need to be wanted and how he gets pleasure from sex from being wanted rather than relied on. so. thatβs going great π
thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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possessed!sam winchester x bigtiddybimbo!reader
word count. 3.3k
mdni. dub-con themes, insane-horny-sam, reader has massive tiddies, pearl necklace, use of toys, cockdrunk!reader, swearing, tiddy appreciation to the max!!!, heaps of filthy things. NOT PROOFREAD!!!!
first Winchester piece, I've always been a Sammy girl through and through and I couldn't help but notice that Dean is such an ass man but I feel Sam is such a tiddy man??? I feel like the bigger the better, I mean the man has HUGE hands right? He needs them to be full of hot, thick flesh. Anyways, enjoy ;)
This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't think it could happen. Not like this.
He had just finished working a case with Dean, their usual ritual of going out and getting a bite at the nearest pie-friendly bar or diner. It was a bar tonight though, beer, hot wings and a edge-of-seat game of pool.
After what seemed like one-too many rounds of beer, Sam was starting to see two cue balls instead of one. Dean barely able to break anymore and trying his best not to trip over whilst remaining completely still.
So drunk, they hadn't noticed the air was a little cooler, the room was suddenly quieter and the colours that flowed under the crappy fluorescent lighting above the pool table, were more full. A cloud of black smoke seeping through the crappy air con vent that didn't seem to do much work, considering that Sam's shirt was almost drenched of sweat from the alcohol graciously keeping him warm.
The way it slowly slinked down from the vent to the floor, clouding around at Sam's ankles unbeknownst to him. At this point neither of them were winning, and as you made your way over you noticed a small difference in Sam as his eyes tried to avoid yours.
"Hey Dean, Sammy." Immediately they always noticed the elephant in the room. The tank top that clung to your body, emphasizing your cleavage and bulbous breasts. Sitting perky and bouncing with each and every movement you made. Dean was the worst for staring, he's clocked more time staring at your breasts than your face.
But he couldn't deny that fuckable mouth, the plumpness of your lips, how they were always glossy and a deep shade of pink with a hint of red. PBL is what he liked to refer to them as when just among Sam, Cas, anyone that would listen. Perfect-Blowjob-Lips.
Sam on the other hand was much more sincere and discreet about your boobs. Hed be lying though if he said he didn't think about you just walking around your bedroom in your little cami-nighties that left little to the imagination should he ever catch you in one around the house.
Your obliviousness to the horny behaviors you had to endure from these two was a god-send. Not every woman would put up with the amount you have. You smiled at Sam, but instead of the usual blush that creeped across his cheek you saw something else. A flicker of something, maybe the lights were playing a trick on you.
But you noticed how he didn't look away from you this time, how his eyes stayed trained on you and his once drunkenly composure was now gone, he held himself tall now as his eyes raked over your figure.
A black, leather mini skirt that was just barely covering your ass, Dean was almost falling over at your mere close proximity. Sam stood on the other side of the table, but only it wasn't actually Sam. It had seemed that a certain lust demon had found itself into the vessel of a Winchester with ease. And it wasn't going to play fair.
Immediately the demon knew of Sam's feelings towards you, the way his fingers twitched around you, the way his heart rate picked up, the way he inhaled your sweet perfume.
'Wow, who knew that little Sammy Winchester had a thing for dumb sluts?' the voice was mocking towards him, the demon knew how to push his buttons.
'Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.'
'Poor Sammy, never get the girl huh? Bet Dean has already driven that ride, probably wasted himself in her too. I bed she loved it, getting completely ruined like that.'
'You better stop. She's not like th--'
'Shes exactly that. You think you're above it? Like you don't secretly pine to stuff her full of your seed? Like you don't picture her tits swelling with fresh, warm milk for you to suck on. I know your deepest secrets now Sam, and it's about time we see you lose a bit of control.'
And Sam was no longer in the passenger seat, tossed into the backseat to only be able to watch and feel everything around him.
"Sam? Sam!? Hello???" You stood there waving your hand in his face, essentially pulling him out of a daze. Shaking his head and eyes meeting your shimmering ones. Wide, pretty, like diamonds.
"I said, since Deans on the prowl, maybe you could walk me back to my room?" You smirked up at him, twisting yourself back and forth in a sweet innocent manner, this only enticed him.
"Sure, let me grab my jacket and pay out my share of the tab." You smiled at him before walking over to wait at the entrance for him. His focus remained fixed on you, eyes drinking in every last bit of you, he grabbed his jacket off the back of the bar stool, throwing some money onto the table and heading right towards you.
His arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you so you're flush against his side. His thumb rubbing soft, taunting circles on your hip bone. A sensation you weren't used to but were quite fond of. Your room wasn't far from the bar, just a walk across the lot.
"You know, I could check out your room for you? Make sure nothing is gonna jump out and get'ya from the dark." His voice implied anything but bad intentions behind his words but you could only understand his concern for your well-being.
"That'd be great Sam, thanks. I have to admit that the room is a bit of a mess at the moment. You know, girl stuff." You chuckled lightly, walking down the concrete corridor past each and every door that didn't belong to you.
You slid the key into the lock mechanism, eager to get inside and out of your heels. You flicked the light on, stepping inside but not getting far before Sam pulled you back. You were a little shocked at the way he grabbed and held you, like you were an object he was keeping safe.
You watched him step into your space, a room where it was officially a no-boy zone. You liked it that way, it allowed you time and space to yourself. But Sam was just showing that he cares.
"I'm just gonna run to the toilet quickly, make yourself comfy I guess." You weren't sure if Sam was intending on staying for a bit or leaving right after you've made yourself acquainted with the room again. He began doing the demony thing, snooping. Curious to see what the real you was like.
They say everything will tell you about a person based on what's in their nightstand. As soon as he opened it a big grin was curling at the corners of his mouth. Eyes gleaming at what laid before him, a box with a half naked lady on it, wearing a pair of black lace panties. Some cheesy brand written in basic cursive print on the box, he was curious as to what it actually was, flipping the box over he felt a slight weight to it.
Tipping the box towards his palm a small remote falling out into his hand. He scoffed as it immediately clicked to him, a plan already coming together in his head.
'Stop this right now. I swear you lay a land on her-'
'Oh please, looks like I don't have too to get what I want from her.'
'Shes a human being!'
'She also seems to like the idea of being some kind of fuck toy.'
'Please. I'm beggi-'
You coming out of the washroom brought them both back to reality and out of Sam's head. You wiped whatever dampness remained on your hands on your shirt, walking towards the small kitchen that was included with your room.
"Want a beer? They're cold." You said as you opened the mini fridge, holding the bottle out to Sam as you opened one for yourself and took a swig.
With one hand he took the glass bottle from you, the other held behind his back still holding the remove firmly in his grip out of your sight.
'Sammy, watch this.'
And with the light press of a button your thighs clenched, your knees buckled and your senses were all heightened at the mere vibration going on under your skirt.
Your cheeks began to flush a deep shade of bubblegum and beads of sweat formed on the small hairs on the nape of your neck, Sam cocked his head to the side after swigging his beer.
"Something wrong bunni?" Your eyes were screwed shut and your lips curled in on themselves as you nodded your head in response, twisting your mouth into a small 'o' shape as the sudden vibrating got more intense, like it was being turned up.
"Really? Cause it almost looks like, you're about to cum just standing in your kitchenette." He held the remote out from behind his back now, taunting you with it by wiggling it between his fingers. A smug smirk plastered on his face as his eyes scan over your whimpering figure.
You began racing towards the bathroom door, in hopes to get the panties off but Sam was quick to grab hold of you. The fear of Sam's sexual desire towards you and the intense sensation massaging your clit was sending you into orbit. The way your body craved him.
He let you fight at him before slamming your body into the door of the bathroom, your head fuzzy and ringing in your ears as his body and mass overpowered you. His lips found your lobe and sucked it hard between his teeth, earning a loud shriek from you.
"Come now bunni, don't be like that. I know you want it like this, I can smell it. The juices flowing out your pussy in desperation to accommodate my cock. Let me show you how a man should eat your cunt sweetie." You were on the bed in seconds, his large hand wrapping around your wrists and holding them together by your hips, skirt pushed up over your waist and underwear pulled to the side.
His tongue plunging into your pink hole, nudging at the cushion walls and lapping up every bit of arousal. It wasn't just the technique, it was the way he praised your pussy, yearned for it. The way his drool devoured it, strings of your arousal connected from his bottom lip to the hood of your clit.
"mf'such a sweet, pink pussy. Gonna make you forget all about your toys bunni. Don't worry though, I'll keep the ones I like and put 'em to use." With a willful popping sensation he had pushed the plug into your anus quickly before you could even protest, and continued his assault on your bundle of nerves.
With every suck and flick of his tongue, your edge got closer and closer. By now the fact that Sam Winchester, the Sam Winchester. Boy you had know all of two years, who used to help you study with them on cases, helped you fire your first gun, raised you into the hunter you were now. Was eating out your cunt in a shitty low rent motel with unchanged sheets and domestics every hour.
His moaning grew louder and more intense as your moans did too. Your head thrown back into the mattress waiting for ecstasy to take over.
"Cum on my tongue." He begged, sucking one last harsh time on your clit to pull you over the edge, watching your body convulse and contort as your orgasm flooded through you like a electric shock to your core. A ripped scream following as your pussy clenched around nothing and began spasming, juices flooding out onto Sam's neck and pecs.
Clear fluid that poured out of you like an inking octopus, he had never been so turned on. He was immediately on top of you, legs on either side of your ribs trapping you on the mattress below him. Not that you could even think about moving at this point, he didn't know what his next move would be. Only that he had been the one I'm some way control for a little now, and he hasn't caught on yet.
The demon, now sitting in the backseat happily watching Sam destroy every shred of decency and chivalry he had to offer. And that's when his next idea came through.
'Tiddy fuck her.' three, simple words. Only they didn't feel like just words or just a suggestion.
'you know you want too. teddy fuck her.' It felt like a demand, like compulsion. His eyes met your fucked over ones, barely open and barely conscious. So completely, ruined and he wasn't even done with you yet.
"Take off your shirt." It was a command, and you knew better than to question Sam at this point, pulling the tank over your head and your voluptuous tits bouncing out from the fabric. Sitting flush against your chest, all squished.
The smirk on his face grew as he stood up, pushing his jeans and jocks down to his ankles before mounting your body again, cock hard and pulsing. You could feel his heart beat racing in the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, it was hot on your skin, eyes flicking down to see his slit not far from the top of your cleavage, a small bead of precum leaking onto your skin, sticky and warm like hot glue.
His hands came down on your tits as she fit his shaft between them, his head quickly scanning the room when he saw it just above your head on the mattress, a small bottle of lotion. That would have to do for now. He squirted it down onto your tits, watching in fascination as your reaction to the cold, silky gel being smudged all over and between your tits.
Sam's hand slicked with oils and creams, running his hand over the knob of his cock, twisting and creating such slick and wet sounds. The sound louder than it actually was due to how close to your face he was. He groaned as he kept touching himself over you, teasing his cock to the point of desperation.
When he was done edging himself his eyes shot open, bloodshot and crazed as his hands engulfed your chest, nipples hands against his palms as he pushed the two chunks of flesh together and began fucking your tits like it was it own fleshlight.
His hard breaths mixed with whiny, desperate moans were getting you wet again. There was something about the sight before you, the way that only you could provide this for him at this moment. Only your tits could hug his dick like this, only the could provide him his very own pussy pocket.
'admit it Sammy, you like this. The feeling of not being in control, of having something else take over for a bit, that feeling of not being judged? That's the real pleasure.'
"fucking like this don't you? Getting in my head! Making me act like a freak." You nodded your head in response as he shoved his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to suck and swirl on it. His hips bucking into you as sweat mixed with lotion coated your tits, Sam so desperate to chase his high.
Only Sam wasn't actually talking to you, but talking to the demon. Who still didn't have any hold on Sam anymore, it was merely just a spectator at this point.
You wanted to help Sam get to where he was desperate to be, pushing his thumb out with your tongue you flicked your muscle at his slit, the taste of precum falling onto your taste buds, warm and salty. The tip perfectly purple as blood pumped harder through it, each thrust bringing Sam closer.
You moaned as you continued to use your tongue and mouth to please him, watching his eyes squeeze shut but protesting so he can see your dumb-fucked face.
"you think you can just wear those sexy outfits and not have consequences? All you're good for is stuffing my dick into. Got that? You're mine now Bunni, my own doll." He growled, his own words turning him further on as his eyes honed in on the way your cheeks hollowed and took in his knob.
Cheeks blushed bubblegum again and eyes dark and doed, so innocent, it was just enough to send him over the edge as his thrusts got harder but jittery. Hips snapping and jerking as his cum began painting warm, sticky ropes over your chest and neck, a few spurts landing on your chin and cheek.
You laid panting below him, chest heaving hard and nipples hard against the cool air. And on que, the demon that once hitch-hiked Sam, was now gone. Sam immediately felt a weight lifted off his chest, his eyes looked lighter again, like the spark behind them had come back.
He looked a little delirious and confused but also a bit relieved. You didn't know how to react at this point, only to grab an old tee on the bed somewhere and use it to wipe over your chest. He immediately got off the top of you, grabbing hold of his genitals in his palms and looking around for his jeans.
Despite just having his cock in your face, front row seats he was a little awkward about being just some nude guy right now.
"Well, gotta say it's been a while since I've been fucked like that Winchester. I missed it." You giggled, sitting up on your elbows and looking at the tall, chiseled man before you.
"I-um. I-I think I'll hit the hay." Sam didn't know what to say or do from here. Just when things couldn't get any worse, Cas was suddenly standing at the foot of the bed between you two.
"Sam, I have important intel I need to-why is she on the bed naked?" Your eyes were almost popping out of your head and you pull the sheet over your body as Cas looked down at you. Sam's mouth agape as he tried to think quick of what to say before Cas put two and two together.
"Just-uh. Hold on, what's the Intel?"
"Well I found out Metatron is planning something, big. And we need to figure out a way into heaven quickly." Sam nodded in agreement and he began thinking of everything they needed to research.
"Sam I'm still unsure as to why she is on the bed naked." Sam did that awkward and embarrassed twitchy face, you know, the one where he is silently screaming 'i beg of you to stop talking now'.
"You know about Adam and Eve right?" You smirked up at the rugged angel in the trench.
"Know about them? I knew them. They were very interesting." You could only lock eyes with Sam in confusion and bewilderment at Cas's response as he bit back a smile.
"Oh. I see. You both engaged in sexual intercourse. And you're now finished. And I've showed up, making this more awkward for you both. Perhaps I should come back some other time, when you're both decent." Sam could only nod in agreement along with you at Cas's suggestion. And within a second he had vanished to wherever he goes when he's not around you or the Winchester brothers.
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if anyone plays rock paper scissors with sam winchester, they realize he also always throws rock because heβs got muscle memory from playing with dean