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FOOD THIEF

last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 04.06.2026 23:40:28
JEREMÍAS

I reach for the crystal tumbler by my plate, sliding the glass towards Ashley. I watch her face flush a deep embarrassing crimson.

Her head is lowered as she doesn't dare look up at Caleb. I move the glass closer, but she dismisses my offer with a hand gesture and a head shake.

She picks up a napkin, wiping a stray drop of water from her lips before raising her head.

“Can you try to be more understanding, brother?” I say, my voice low but firm enough to tell that I'm dead ser
Mmeso. L

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  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    BREAK UP

    JEREMÍAS I touch my lower lip, and pull my hand away to inspect the damage. A small drop of blood beads on my fingertip. My expression hardens as I look up at Caleb. “You're angry?” I ask, my voice deceptively calm. “Why? Because of what I said? Did I say something wrong?”Caleb doesn't answer. His breathing is ragged, his eyes wide with desperate possessiveness. He doesn't think. He just throws another punch at the same throbbing cheek. The blow is harder than the first, a sharp pain to my teeth. But I don't wince. Pain is just pleasure for me.I stumble back, my eyes still locked on his. “Someone else wants her, so fucking leave her life,” I growl, going closer to his space.“You don't even love her,” he spits, his jaw clenching. “Stop pretending like you care!”He raises his fist again, but I don't let him this time. I shove his arm down with a violent motion and jab his face slightly. The impact sends him stumbling back, trying to regain his stamina.I don't know why I did that

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    WARNINGS

    JEREMÍAS I touch my lower lip, and pull my hand away to inspect the damage. A small drop of blood beads on my fingertip. My expression hardens as I look up at Caleb. “You're angry?” I ask, my voice deceptively calm. “Why? Because of what I said? Did I say something wrong?” Caleb doesn't answer. His breathing is ragged, his eyes wide with desperate possessiveness. He doesn't think. He just throws another punch at the same throbbing cheek. The blow is harder than the first, a sharp pain to my teeth. But I don't wince. Pain is just pleasure for me. I stumble back, my eyes still locked on his. “Someone else wants her, so fucking leave her life,” I growl, going closer to his space. “You don't even love her,” he spits, his jaw clenching. “Stop pretending like you care!” He raises his fist again, but I don't let him this time. I shove his arm down with a violent motion and jab his face slightly. The impact sends him stumbling back, trying to regain his stamina. I don't know why I d

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    PEOPLE LIKE ME?

    JEREMÍAS I wipe sweat from my forehead with my wristband, breathing heavily. “That was a bad shot, Jere,” Andre says, jogging over to retrieve his ball that had gone past the net at the other side of the court. “You couldn't even get it into the net even when you were so close to it.” I exhale sharply, looking at the net. “Quit talking and practise more.” I snatch the ball from the air, my movements swift. I bounce the ball, driving hard towards his side of the net, successfully dribbling past Andre in a way that makes him stumble. But when I go for the net, my focus shatters. The ball hits the iron and bounces away. Andre drops down to the floor, sighing loudly. “That was awful, man. 6-0. What's wrong with you today? We have the finals coming up soon, you know. And I can't watch you play like this, especially as the captain of this team.” I don't answer. I walk to the bench, collapsing on the wood. I grab my water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a long, desperate swallo

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    YOU SURVIVED

    ASHLEY I can't lie to Caleb, but I will have to. Just this once. “He probably saw it when I was leaving the event hall,” I say, my voice casual. “He just cares.” Caleb lowers his voice, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes me want to look away. “Still, stay away, Ash. If he cares, it's never a good thing for you. Don't trust him at all. Really.” I feel a flicker of frustration. He always warns me about trusting Jeremías or being close to him. But he never tells me the reason—except his usual pathetic excuses. It's exhausting obeying him without a valid reason. “Why do you hate him so much, anyways?” I ask, wanting to understand. “Except for the fact that you don't like the idea of having a stepbrother, why do you despise him?” But he doesn't answer. He stays silent longer than I expect. Then, he stands, his movements stiff and walks to the door. “The exhaustion is really kicking in,” he says, glancing at me briefly before turning to the door. “We'll talk later, As

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    WRONG ROOM

    ASHLEY I watch Jeremías disappear from the door. My heart sinks for just a fraction. I had been hoping for a flicker of smile from him or a little casual ‘hi’, but nothing. Instead, his expression had been dark and devoid of a pleasant emotion as he glanced at me for barely five seconds. He just walked out, not glancing back. Caleb finally pulls away from me, his eyes locking on mine intently. “Ashley, where have you been?” I blink. “Huh?” He takes my right hand in his, his grip gentle but firm. “I'm really sorry about last night,” he says, his voice laced with pure sincerity. “I did something bad. I shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry.” I look at him, really look at him—the messy hair, the dull eyes, his tux from last night, the relief laced across his face—and I feel a softening in my chest. “It's okay,” I whisper. It's Caleb. I had never been able to stay mad at him for long, not through all the years, and not now either. “You look disheveled.” He lets out a ragged brea

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    HE HATES SHARING

    JEREMÍAS I descend the stairs, my sneakers silent on the polished hardwood. My steps suddenly slow as I reach the bottom of the staircase. The sound echoing off the walls in the quiet house is anything but calm. Caleb and my mom are in the living room, their faces gloomy. Caleb is pacing around the large room, a phone pressed hard against his ear. I quickly guess it's a distress call of God knows who. My mom stands a few feet away, her hands folding tightly over her heart, her face laced with dread. Caleb tosses his phone on the nearby sofa, his hands trembling. “No one's seen her, still,” he mutters. His breathing is shallow, uneven, faster than normal. He's panicking. And I know what he might be panicking about. But screw it. I'm not saying anything. I glance at my mother. I hated interfering in anything with Caleb's tag on it. I hate lurking around in his orbit. So, I don't ask anything. I stay silent. I walk towards the coffee table, pick up a bottle of water, and m

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    START OVER

    ASHLEY I sit up on the bed, looking at him, amazed. He opens his buttons and takes off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing heavy, solid abs. Then, he takes off his belt, unbottons his trouser and unzips it. He doesn't take it off.I can see his hard dick bulging out of his underwear, pleadin

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    TAKE IT OFF

    ASHLEY “Tessa is behaving weirdly,” Caleb says. I turn my gaze to him, lifting my brows slightly. “Huh?”He glanced at me, sighing. “I said Tessa's behaving weirdly. Ever since she entered Jeremías room yesterday, she has started acting awkwardly around me.”I nod. “I wonder what she and Jere di

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    SEND YOU AWAY AGAIN

    JEREMÍAS My mom thinks the same thing too. She thinks I had actually intended to hurt Ashley back then. And I hadn't told her the truth. How come I didn't tell her the truth? All these years, she believed it was the truth.“That was a long time ago, mom,” I say, my voice low. “It's forgotten.”Sh

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    YOUR NEW HOBBY

    JEREMÍAS It's barely been an hour since I arrived, and here I am, welcoming guests on my father's behalf. I don't give them the satisfaction of a smile. It's mostly handshakes and head nods. “Jeremías Cruz,” my uncle says, locking arms with his wife as he approaches me. “Been a while, Athlete.”

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