#( i really want to see more of her. to know more about her :'((( )

[norrisainz33]

Party time || ln4

☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret

☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid

☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..

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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing

ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo

arthur_leclerc: blocked

charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?

ynleclerc: oui

alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍

charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her

ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!

user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied

scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍

ynleclerc: merci admin 😘

user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫

landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!

ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!

landonorris: y/n/n

user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2

user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that

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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up

ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!

logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes

yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!

ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭

ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩

alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl

charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]

ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]

charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]

ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]

landonorris: are costumes required for this party?

ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?

landonorris: and ya know what i hate you

ynleclerc: no you do not muppet

georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫

ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor

georgerussell63: 💀

iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting

ynleclerc: a big big baby he is

iamrebeccad: the biggest

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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!

charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?

ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore

charlesleclerc: i knew it

carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???

charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved

landonorris: where tf was my invite

charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister

landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh

alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl

charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know

arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what

charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice

arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻

iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls

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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is

carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana

charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!

carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority

charlesleclerc: 🙄

landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????

carlossainz55: what? no i did not!

landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!

carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles

landonorris: mate 😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i’m sorry

landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?

carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does

landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute

arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty

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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy

user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing

alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning

ynleclerc: i love youuuu

landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……

ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me

landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉

yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth

patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty

user16: god ur perfect

user22: screw your brothers, i want you

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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister

carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀

arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared

carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house

yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either

carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit

iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him

carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?

iamrebeccad: he is with y/n

carlossainz55: where?

iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him

carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about

iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s

alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔

carlossainz55: alex what do you know

alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now

carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out

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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY

user3: screaming y/n what is this

charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?

ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!

charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??

charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read

lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH

ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me

lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?

ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭

lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭

ynleclerc: SCREAMING

user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn

carmenmundt: baby what is this

ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up

carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??

ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new

carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems

user7: omg are you guys together???

user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol

user9: raw! next question

alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea

ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?

alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO

ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭

ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME

user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn

georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this

ynleclerc: george shut up

georgerussell63: never

user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂

[this post has been deleted by user]

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carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts

landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up

carlossainz55: are you having fun?

landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official

carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???

landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭

carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron

charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road

landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles

lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀

landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober

oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate

landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭

oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro

landonorris: bc she wanted pizza

oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her

landonorris: 😔

maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤

landonorris: i did mate 🤩

danielriccardo: and who is this?

landonorris: y/n leclerc

danielriccardo: a leclerc?!

landonorris: the leclerc yes

danielriccardo: good job kid

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ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨

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iamrebeccad: stunning 😭

user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n

georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw

ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you

georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘

user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand

charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?

ynleclerc: *leo made the cut

charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh

user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭

landonorris: yours you say?

ynuser: perhaps 🫣

alexandrasaintmleux: tea

user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this

user81: don’t edge us omg

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charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister

landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹

charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate

landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise

oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡

landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw

user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY

ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you

landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth

ynleclerc: lando 😭😭

user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute

alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her

landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon

alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍

user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　MIDNIGHT COMPANY

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call ���something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[eiralunaire]

Headcanos of Damian Wayne.

1. Small Gestures of Tenderness.

Although Damian would never admit it out loud, he always feels inexplicably more relaxed when he's around his girlfriend. He often watches her in silence, observing the small details, like the way she laughs, her expression when she's focused, or how she always has something to say, even when she doesn't feel like talking. There's something about those moments that makes him feel, for the first time in his life, that war and fighting aren't everything.

2. Defender of Her Well-Being.

Damian, who has been trained to be cold and calculating, can't help but become extremely protective when it comes to her. If someone looks at her wrong, even in jest, he'll step in without thinking, making it clear with his gaze (and sometimes his threat of "don't do it again") that no one can hurt her. He's convinced that it's his responsibility to take care of her, but it's more of an internal desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.

3. The Typical Sarcastic and Jealous Behavior.

When it comes to other men, Damian is relentless. Although he would never express it in an obvious way, he feels extremely uncomfortable if any kind of unwanted attention is directed towards his girlfriend. It is common for his sarcastic tone to appear when some guy talks too close to her. "Really? Do you think she wants to hear that?" he would say, with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as he takes a step forward.

4. Thoughtful (albeit weird) Gifts.

He is not the type of boyfriend to buy expensive jewelry or flowers (because he doesn't know how those things work), but what he does do is remember the little details about what his girlfriend likes. One day, unbeknownst to her, Damian shows up with a rare book she mentioned in a casual conversation, or with that chocolate she is known to like a lot. The truth is, he's become an expert at listening to her, not just because of his tactical intelligence, but because he genuinely wants to please her, even if his way of showing it is... unconventional.

5. Intimate Moments of Vulnerability.

When Damian is with his girlfriend, his guard is down in ways that only happen with her. It can be something as simple as watching a movie together, or lying next to her after a long day of training, but in those moments, he doesn't have to live up to his last name or his lineage. It's just him, Damian Wayne, simply enjoying her company. It's a luxury he doesn't usually get with anyone else, but with her, it's something that constantly draws him in and comforts him.

6. Interactions with His Family.

Despite his reserved attitude, Damian has found himself talking more to his family about his girlfriend, albeit in a slightly brusque manner. With Bruce, for example, his attitude towards her is a kind of possessiveness that makes it clear that he wants her in his life, but he also knows that his father will never really understand what he feels. With Alfred, however, he seems more relaxed, because he knows that the butler sees what he sometimes can't recognize: how happy their relationship makes him.

7. Subtle but Efficient Jealousy.

Damian can't help but show jealousy, although he does it in a subtle and almost childish way. For example, if his girlfriend talks a lot with another guy (even if he's a close friend), he may make comments like: "Since when are you so interested in what he has to say?" or suddenly offer to take her back to her apartment, as if there was some "urgent" business to attend to, to prevent her from staying too long with that person. It's his way of saying "I want you all to myself" without having to say it directly.

8. He Likes Deep Conversations.

Damian isn’t a man of many words, but when he’s with his girlfriend, he finds it easy to open up and share things he never thought he’d say. He likes to talk to her about topics that have nothing to do with war or fighting, like his views on the future or what he thinks about life. Sometimes, he catches himself talking more than he planned, but he doesn’t mind, because he knows he can be vulnerable with her, something he’s learned to deeply appreciate.

9. The Vulnerability of Being “The Man”.

When he’s with her, Damian feels weird about not being able to show off everything he knows how to do. I mean, with his combat skills and tactical intelligence, he could defend her from anything, but what really attracts him to her is how she calms him down and makes him feel more human. In her mind, that makes him more than just Bruce Wayne’s son or trained assassin. He makes her feel a little more normal, like any other guy in love, and that thought baffles him, but he loves it at the same time.

10. Sudden Moments of Insecurity.

Despite all his training and his confident facade, Damian sometimes feels insecure in their relationship. There are times when he doubts himself: Is he really up to par with her? Will he be enough for someone like her, who has so much to offer? Although he would never admit it, he has those moments of uncertainty that make him more human. However, as time goes on, he realizes that all he really needs to do is be himself, and sometimes, even a more vulnerable and caring Damian can be what attracts her the most.

11. The Unspoken "I Protect You".

Although he never says it outright, Damian is obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her. If she is ever sad, he turns into a wall of ice, willing to face anything to make her feel safe. This leads to more possessive behavior, but he doesn't see it that way. It's his way of showing her that even though he's not the traditional boyfriend type, he'll always be there for her, even if that means walking away from conflict and just offering his company.

[sturnioz]

꒰ STURNIOZ KINKMAS '24 ꒱ !

fan!reader finally gets her one on one time with pornstar!chris.

"are you ready?" chris asks you softly, his hand rubbing comforting massages on your shoulder as you nod your head nervously, a giddy smile spreading across your lips which chris chuckles at. "hey, don't be nervous.. pretend like the camera isn't even there."

"i don't know if i can do that." you admit as your eyes glance towards the camera that's set up beside the bed, ready to film you both.

you're not sure what made you agree to film with him for his next post—you were texting back and forth for a few weeks, sending lewd messages and photos of yourself in your prettiest underwear before he popped the question, asking if you wanted to be in his next video.

you think maybe it was the post-orgasm bliss that made you feel so confident enough to agree, but now, being faced to face with him, seeing his set up, the reality started to sink in on what you're doing, and despite you being a little excited... you were also shitting your pants.

"we don't have to do this y'know?" chris breaks it to you, giving you a reassuring smile that already has you swooning. "m'not gonna be pissed if you decide to back out now—you can even sit behind the camera 'n watch me if you want."

even though his offer of watching him sounds really tempting, you want this. you want this so badly that you've been non-stop thinking and dreaming about it — what it would feel like to have his body pressed against yours and his cock that you've seen so many times on your phone screen making you cum.

"i want to do this."

"yeah?" he presses once more, and you nod your head to assure him that you're all for this even if you are a little bit nervous. chris nods his head along with you, giving you another smile before leading you toward his bed. "get undressed f'me. all off."

one moment you're standing at the edge of the bed taking your clothes off, the next you're on it with chris' body over yours, his lips greedily attached to your own as he kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands slide down to your ass to squeeze the plump flesh, grinding his cock against your wet folds.

you're moaning and it's a little pathetic considering all he's doing at the moment is kissing and groping you. but it feels so good — too good to the point you're thinking you're dreaming, that this is all in your mind and you aren't truly here.

but the nibble chris gives your bottom lip, and tugging at it before pushing his tongue back into your mouth brings you back to reality, lacing your fingers through his messy hair as he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

"need... need you inside me," you whisper against his lips as you briefly pull back, blinking up at him so prettily and needy. "need to feel it. want you to.. to fill me up, like you said on those texts."

"want me to fill this pretty pussy up?" chris murmurs as he leans up on his knees, making a show for the camera as his fingers move between your thighs, spreading your folds apart to show your weeping hole. "look at you.. so fuckin' gorgeous."

you make eye contact with the camera as chris slowly pushes himself inside, and you let out a sharp gasp, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him as your inner walls clench.

"shit—shit. oh my god—" you babble, panicking a little. "you—mmph—you're so big. i-i don't know if i can ta-take it."

"shh, s'okay, s'alright... you're good," chris whispers softly as he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he pauses his movements, allowing you a moment to adjust as he murmurs against your lips. "just relax.. we'll go slow, yeah? let your sweet lil' pussy get used to my cock."

you whimper softly, your hips twitching as your gummy walls flutter around him, a burning ache between your thighs and inside your cunt causing you to wiggle to get comfortably, and chris gently strokes your cheeks.

"you're doin' so well." chris praises you, pressing his lips to your warm cheeks as he carefully begins to move, rocking his hips in shallow thrusts as he continues to mutter sweet words and leave gentle kisses across your jawline and neck. "takin' my cock like such a good girl."

your breathing grows heavier, starting to respond to the slow pace as you meet his thrusts, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper with a mewl of his name, vision slightly blurry as you stare at the camera that's recording you both, making you tense up a little.

"don't look at it," chris says quietly, gently coaxing your face away with his hand. "s'not there, remember? just me 'n you."

you nod your head quickly, your moans muffled by his lips when he kisses you again, rocking harder against you as he picks up the pace, panting against your mouth as he feels your cunt squeeze around him.

you weakly roll your hips up in circular motions, grinding against him to provide extra stimulation for your clit, all sounds consumed by his lips that continue to move greedily on yours.

however, you pull away from him to catch your breath when he moves faster, plunging into your pussy, his balls smacking against your skin with his hand gripping your jaw, gently pushing your head back to bite and suckle at your neck.

you inner walls ripple and quiver around his cock, getting lost in the feeling of his cock gliding in and out of your walls, and the sounds of his grunts and groans in your neck.

his mouth finds yours once again when his hips work harder, rutting you against the bed, your heart pounding wildly in your ears as you feel the knot in your tummy tighten.

"can feel it, sweetheart," his murmurs between kisses, his lips curling into a grin. "you gonna cum?"

the unusual sound that leaves you as you unexpectedly cum is something primal—a mix between a throaty moan and a whine that only gets noisier as chris works you through your orgasm, his mouth relentless against yours before he suddenly stills, his cock throbbing inside of you as he coats your insides with his own cum.

you cling to him tightly, lungs begging for oxygen as you pull away from his lips, panting desperately while chris rolls his hips, milking out the remains of his orgasm before letting out a deep exhale once he's finished.

he gently pulls away from you to lean up on his knees, looking down as he watches himself pull out of your opening, his cum dripping onto his sheets. you peer up at him with curiosity as he reaches over to grab his camera, his eyes flitting to yours for permission and you nod your head.

chris brings the camera to the mess between your legs, carefully parting your folds for a closer look at the mess before grinning, moving the camera up to his face—but he pauses, humming as he looks at you.

"kiss the camera," he murmurs to you, tapping against the lens as he brings it to your lips. "right here, sweetheart."

© STURNIOZ

[rainachaeri]

She does, and with some stuffed dollies too :D No favorites though. They're pretty much just for the aesthetics

Absolutely! But I don't think she'd see animals as pets since they're more like friends to her. Not sure about the child one, she's gonna need a lot of help (hehe) with taking care of one.

I dont get this question, cuz I myself know who her love interests are but she doesn't yet. Should she still describe them anyway? Is that what the answer is supposed to be here? Idk lol maybe I'd back on this another time.

Hell yeah

Yeah! About anything! Snakes, rocks, flags, the word hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, the first 10 digits of pi, a snowflake, the evolution of microphones, and pretty much anything that would interest her, and there's a lot that would interest her!

No matter what, she'll trust her fellow deities advice (and herself) since they know. And Papyrus too. So far theres no specific person she won't listen to advice for just yet.

Silly. Smart. Stupid. As for how she'd describe herself: Human. Student. Girl. OR! She is a B, C, and D. :D

She likes puzzles, no matter how complex it can get.

Nope.

She's totally fine with the age she has now and it's definitely her age, yep! She didn't just make it up or anything nope.

She'll give it away :) (you'd question why she'd join the lottery in the first place, but she probably just wanted to know what would happen and how it worked)

She can enjoy it

She would if she had any :D

She wouldn't. People should enjoy what they want without guilt!

Well, school and work is definitely not a waste of time for her. Everything she puts time and effort on is no waste :D there's always something to learn from everything she tries or does

Whatever it is she wears now

Yes! They're just smaller, younger mortals!

*shrugs*

Technically yeah she would

Math I guess (and other sciences related to it), if she's around dumb people (like me). And no one probably likes mosquitoes, or cockroaches, or pretty much any insect or living being that people are typically disgusted with or afraid of, but she does :D

Idk probably if she no longer feels comfortable? She's not one to stay silent on the important things I think, if she realizes there's a pressing problem/issue in the relationship then she HAS to address it. If they fix it, good, if not, well, they tried, but there's no point forcing things when they simply don't work. It's gonna hurt a lot, but it's gonna hurt a lot more otherwise. There won't be a last straw.

Not sure if she likes it. If it's a really good pet name, she'll love it at best and if it's meh she's neutral about it at worst. Pet names are kinda harmless, so even if she doesn't like a nickname someone gives to her she'll shrug it off I think. Just mortal things she supposed, may as well let them at it. An exemption though if the petname is just so insulting to her (congrats if you managed to find a petname that would be insulting for her), and in that case NOPE please call her something else. Please. She's not one to use petnames either. She prefers addressing everyone with their name. Even the ones she's very close with

Novelty

Honesty

Possibility

Effort

Forgiveness

Maybe

Sliding down a rainbow and landing on a pot of gold. Sometimes the gold is a pile of candies. Sometimes they're cotton candies. Sometimes the pot is just liquid chocolate. (She intentionally dreams all this by the way)

She's not gonna like that question 😅

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Support the author: all writing | book | ko-fi | Patreon

[quarterlifekitty]

heyyy

can I ask for a part 2 on fuckboy soap?

i want to know more about what happens with reader and simon

in my head, Simon HATES seeing Johnny treat the reader that way. i can envision Simon taking her out, treating her right and all but stealing away Johnny's toy.

So, I posted a part 2, but I have these asks about it and I’d hate for them to go to waste— so I thought I’ll do a little bit of expansion on the relationship. Some shite exposition.

Uhhhh I’m back from writing this now and I didn’t mean to do this but I kind of made this like a prequel or like a part 1.5 I didn’t mean to make it so long oops

Promethean: how to starve a beast

Simon does not involve himself, in any way, in the nasty hookup miasma that Soap is a part of. That most of the frat is a part of, honestly. Motherfucker doesn’t party. This man is on financial aid and has a part time job. He is studying because he’s the one paying for his schooling and for his living expenses.

He doesn’t care that Johnny fucks people under less than savory pretenses. People get played by him? Better they learn their lesson with some harmless douche with a mohawk than with someone who will actually do some damage. Ultimately, not his business. He’s seen plenty of people come and go across the hall, and he’s not fussed.

He doesn’t respond to the conquest stories from the other guys when they’re sharing takeout, or the occasional ‘family’ dinner. Really, the only reaction he gives, even internally, is when one of them comments on something some girl did that was gross, or something about them that wasn’t hot.

A complaint that her period started when she stayed the night. I’d like to fuck a girl while she’s on the rag. Bet it’s fucking warm and slick.

A complaint that she had cellulite. Way to out yourself as being a porn addict, mate.

A complaint that her nails dug too hard into his skin. I’d love for a girl to make me bleed when I fuck her.

He didn’t feel any sympathy. Just accumulated little, harmless fantasies.

Until Johnny started talking about you.

Simon didn’t know you. Had never met you. Seen you once or twice, maybe. Hadn’t learned to even recognize your face.

“Kept leanin’, think she wanted me t’kiss her.”

“So fockin’ bad at giving head. S’a bit cute, tae be honest.”

“Tried tae make a grab for my hand the other night. Can ye believe it? Tryin’ tae hold my hand while ah’m givin’ it tae her. Daft thing still doesnae get it.”

Then he starts to notice you when you leave Soap’s room. The way you very gently close his door as if you’re worried about bothering him. The way you pause, like there’s something you want to say, before you move on. The deep breath. The odd sniffle.

And then, when you show up. Yanked inside without so much as a kind word.

Simon has to strain and get close to the door if he wants to hear you. Soap’s loud as all fuck, but from what one can hear from the hall, he may as well be in there alone.

It’s like there’s an electric coil in his belly. Every time there’s something to do with you, the dial ticks over a notch. The current heats the metal. Every time Soap brags about what he’s done to you. Every time he sees you shake when you walk down the hall and out of the house. Every time Soap brags about what you, the stupid little thing he keeps for a fuckpet, really wants—

The coil is red hot. Even if he could figure out how to turn off the burner, the heat would stay. The metal would be hot to the touch. The heat radiates the very air in front of him, like a mirage. He thinks of you when you’re not even in the house. When no one’s talking about you. You’re a parasite that’s squirmed deep into his gut and you can’t be removed without pulling his organs out with you.

He feels like he’s gone mad. How can no one else see it the way he does? How can Johnny not see how privileged he is to have you even look at him? How can he not want the perfect devotion you’re so keen to give him? How can you not know that any man would thank god for your returned affection, if you’d only set your sights on one that wasn’t a complete and total fuckhead? How has no jealous classmate or longtime friend come by and set Johnny’s nose bloody and crooked for how he’s treated you, sensitive and dangerously endearing as you are?

Every time Johnny talked about you, he had no idea that it was another rusted staple under his best mate’s skin. Building your mythology. Making you a prize. No, that wasn’t right.

Making you seem utterly wasted. Shackled yourself to a mutt with no sense for what he had writhing and submissive beneath him.

Soap has the perfect thing, the finest yield of flesh, right between his teeth and he won’t bite down.

Content for you to rot in his maw.

Well, Simon isn’t.

[amphitriteswife]

Heir

Pairing: Emperor Geta x wife reader

Warning: nsfw content. Also he’s hairy because i say so okay. You are too because it’s normal to have hair there. I’m bad at smut. Idk squirting ig

Summary; Geta was thinking about having a child after you once held one in your arms, unknown thay he was experiencing baby fever.

Note: i’m seeing the movie next monday aaaaaaahhhh and it got cringe to write this sorry🥲

.

.

.

Geta walked up to your chamber, he had just gotten back from visiting another temple. This time the temple of Juno. He had visited Venus last week and found that it was pretty effective. His cape was dragging in the cold, flat tiles. He hadn’t seen in you in a while even if you were his wife. It was common for you to spend your time occupied with something or with someone else. It’s not like you hated him, no. He knows that you love him and only him. But the duty of the empress calls just as often as the duty of the emperor. The last time he had seen you was when the both of you sat in the throne room, you holding a baby and giving your blessing to the little one. He doesn’t know why, he really doesn’t. But that interaction had sparked something in him. You were holding the baby so gently, and it looked up at you as if it could feel your gentleness. The way your eyes held a soft gaze, something you only shared to the peasants and children. You looked so motherly that it made him wonder: what would it be like if you indeed had a child? Ofcourse he knows that such a thing is not an easy task nor job.

He knows that in the early staged when the two of you were just newly wed, that you didn’t want any children. You found it to be too soon. Too much work. He knew your stance on it. It meant your life was now about the child on top of being and empress and wife. There was going to be a lot on your shoulders if you indeed had his child. But apart from that, it also raises the discussion of the baby being a boy or a girl. Most would think that a boy would be the ideal child, it would take over his legacy and conquer more land. It would be a good emperor and continue his bloodline. Yes it always had been like that. But girls are cuter, and he can’t deny that girls usually seem to be daddy’s children. Besides he has his brother who counts as a child…having a girl doesn’t seem so bad…men just exaggerate. Yes. They’re just dramatic. Baby girls are cute. Geta snickered to himself as his mind wandered to images if him holding a baby girl in his arms, brushing her hair and her smiling at him. She’ll be so cute! But…his mind also wandered to images of having a son, teaching him how to use a sword or spear…making sure he turns out into a great man, husband and emperor….oh gods on mount Olympus help him. He can’t decide. He wants both. They’re both so cute. So little. His heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Geta’s footsteps came to a halt, his eyes wandering over you. You were eating pomegranates…it made him sigh. You always had a fixation on Proserpina and Pluto. Many often even feared to speak their names yet here you are, eating the fruit they symbolize. But then again, it’s not like he doesn’t know you. It’s such a you thing, being so daring. It makes you sexy. He noticed that you were reading something. Probably about taxes. At least that’s what he assumes. His eyes lingering on your stomach…he feels weird, did you notice him being weird too?

‘What are you staring at emperor?’

The question made him let out a stunned sound. He hadn’t realized that you were looking at him while he was staring. Did you notice something? Should he tell you? Yes, he should. It’s making him feel very weird and he really wants it. Besides, it won’t hurt to have a conversation about it right? Yes you had your stance but maybe you changed your mind? After all you had grown to love him and he loved you back. Perhaps you shared his desire to have a child? It won’t hurt to ask. He walked over to you, his heart a pumping a little faster, he didn’t necessarily feel nervous…just a little…scary. His hands fumbling a little with his cape as he say down next to you on the sofa. Placing your legs in his lap and rubbing your legs.

‘Empress…do you have a moment?’

‘Yes, speak your mind emperor.’

‘I wish to have a child with you…i am uncertain as to why i suddenly feel this way, but it has been on my mind for quite a while. I do not expect to have one right away. But i would like to actively try for one.’

Your silence made him a little nervous. Did you not feel the same way? He doesn’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s just an idea…an idea that makes him feel very aroused and made him lay awake for many nights. He feels embarrassed, embarrassed that his mind is filled with such scenarios. He wants to try for a baby. Oh my gods he wants to have a baby. He has to make one…which means he has to has sex with you! His expression turned a little shocked. He totally hadn’t thought about that. The two of you never did it before. Venus help him! He can’t take this!

‘Emperor? Hello? Emperor! You look like a gaping fish!’

‘Ah- uhm sorry i was thinking about…stuff.’

‘Oh…okay…but to answer your question, i had been thinking about the same thing.’

The room was filled with the sounds of pleasure, mainly Geta’s voice overpowering any other. Even the sound of skin coming into contact with one another, his hand’s were holding your hips, moving along with your figure going up and down in an unsteady rhythm. He knows that you’re doing it on purpose. He knows it, you’re trying to make him come first. The many rings around his fingers felt cold against your skin, making you shiver when they moved along with you. Geta watched as he saw himself disappear into you, he could feel the wetness of your pussy staining his ginger pubes. His lips came unto contact with your neck, licking along side it and sucking onto your skin, he took his hands away from your hips and instead wrapped your arms around you. His mouth dry from the moaning and groaning, geta’s fingers reached for your folds, his lips pressing onto yours as he rubbed his fingers against your clit. His middle finger flicked against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it until he felt a sudden gush of warm liquid against his hand and a strangles of moans from you. Geta smiled and grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look back at him and pressed his lips against yours, the insides of his mouth invading yours. His eyes focused on the wet spot on the bed.

Geta moaned in your mouth before pulling away. He flipped you on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and leaning into you. His hands grabbing his heavy cock and gently pushing the tip inside if you. His voice was deep and hoarse when he whispered in your ear.

‘There we go…shhh…it’s okay…I’ll make you feel good okay?’

He moved slowly, only letting the tip enter your body and holding you steady, his voice laced a little with concern. He patted your pussy with the tip of his fingers. The soft and gently touch to your sensitive clit making you groan a little.

‘Are you holding on my empress?’

He chuckled when you nodded at him and placed another kiss onto your lips. Geta hummed in your mouth and have you a wink, his other hand drinking your hair. You’re holding on so well. You deserve a reward.

‘Think you can take it all? We’ll do it slowly okay?’

[argonautsoul]

“Oh, to be able to be admired, cared for, loved, without needing to do any other thing than existing. No need to fight. Just to care, and nourish one and each other...”

Love isn’t something you feel, though. It’s something you do. And so,

loving someone is loving who they are.

When people feel that they are not understood, it frequently is due to not enough empathy going both ways...

[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]

Here, one is actually saying: “I was in love with the fantasy relationship I wanted him/her to give me, but s/he wasn't offering me that; (I didn't like the way s/he was treating me)”.

Whatever you understand about your partner is your perspective. It is not what s/he really is. Whatever you attribute to your partner is in relation to you.

True love is based on accepting each other as they are... and you can't love something that you actually don't like... you can't love the other one if you don't actually enjoy the way s/he makes you feel.

Preferences are more about us than the other person, so first, try to give yourself what you are seeking from your date or partner.

Love isn't about trying to change someone to fit our idea of perfect.

What's more,

Forever, one can not fully understand the other one at all. This is the beauty of how they were created. Therefore, there is conflict between them.

Even within ourselves, there are/can be some deep-seated subconscious behaviours and beliefs that we don’t understand.

It is about accepting the whole person, even the parts you don't fully understand or agree with.

People's personalities change and grow over time. As you go through life together, you'll see new sides of each other. True love allows for that growth and accepts the ever-changing nature of your partner, even as their outer personality shifts. 

Any relationship is in a state of change, part of which is continuous knowledge of the other.

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.”

 — Fred Rogers

And hence, constant effort is needed to accept and adjust themselves to keep up with the changing lifestyles along the way with the changing society.

It takes time to grow together. And we want the maturity in a relationship that comes with time, the emotional connect that develops over years, that sense of belonging when we barely even know the other person... Apparently, nothing is worth our time, effort, and patience. Not even love. Relationships, however, require energy and participation.

Cognitive biases can be particularly damaging because they distort our perceptions and interpretations of our partners' actions and motives.

Cognitive bias is so difficult to acknowledge, understand, or be aware of within ourselves because we actively protect our beliefs. Sometimes, this means denying truth or new information that comes to us (a la cognitive dissonance).

In addition,

Depressed people don’t have the energy, and if they are caught up in the very common mode of isolation because of their depression they are definitely not participating... sometimes, there is an element of mental illness involved in this arena in general.

Lastly,

We don't really need an intellectual twin who can finish our sentences.

And that level of interconnection isn’t necessary. As long as they treat you appropriately, even if they don’t understand you completely, you can still have a very fulfilling relationship.

Love is a commitment, not about the mushy gushy feelings.

Let the commitment be the beginning of understanding. 

══════☸☸☸══════

Too often, in this culture, we cloud the picture, overanalyze, fear those conscious efforts, and insist that love means something very definable and ultimately acceptable — don’t get sucked into the madness, stay in your true path and please, please find a partner who is similar to you (i.e., hold similar values), who cares about your thoughts and feelings, and genuinely enjoys your company.

And read “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman. It’s eye-opening to realize that someone may be figuratively shouting their love from the rooftops — but you aren’t “hearing” it. Communication is key, as long as you understand your partner’s language.

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Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus

[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]

[luvergirl-866]

I think you'd cook a one short one about the first time Paige saw Azzi's belly button piercing

don’t need to breathe (when you look at me)

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, needles, FLUFF, smut

a/n - this is my fourth time trying to upload. lately, whenever i try to upload anything more than 100 or so words, tumblr gets slow and then crashes and i lose the whole thing!! it sucksss 😩. pls send help. anyway, hope you like! (also this is unedited as fuck)

Azzi absolutely hates needles.

It’s something she’s always known about herself—when she was getting her four-year-old vaccines, she fought the nurses holding her down and ripped the needle out of her leg while screaming like a banshee.

Safe to say, whenever she finds herself around needles, it’s usually against her will.

Which is exactly why she wasn’t brave enough to get her ears pierced until she was fifteen. It’s also exactly why, when her mother brings up a belly button piercing the summer before college, her reply is an immediate and adamant no.

“Why not?” Katie asks, as if she doesn’t know her daughter at all. “I had one when I was around your age.”

Azzi shudders at the mere thought of a piece of metal forced through the inches of skin between her navel and belly button. “No way, Mom.”

“I gotta say, I agree,” her dad pipes up, and usually Azzi doesn’t favor his opinions on these things (crop tops were a no until she was thirteen) but today, she smiles gratefully at him. “She doesn’t need nothing like that ‘till she’s older.”

“Tim,” Katie says exasperatedly, “she’s an adult.”

“Yeah, but not really,” Tim says, throwing his arm around Azzi’s shoulders. Azzi burrows into her dad’s chest in an attempt to hide from her scary mom with the scary needles.

“It was just a suggestion,” Katie sighs, reaching into the oven to pull out the pot pie. “You don’t have to if you don’t want it. They’re just cute, is all.” Placing the hot pan on the stove, Katie turns back to the two of them, smiling slyly at Azzi. “I’m sure your girlfriend would think so, too.”

Admittedly, that thought itself has the cogs in Azzi’s mind turning.

————————————

Later that same day, at around 10:00, Azzi’s phone buzzes with a text from none other than Paige Bueckers, also known as Azzi’s aforementioned girlfriend.

I miss you

The two of them had woken up on FaceTime that morning, and had been texting throughout the day, but it’s been a few hours since their last conversation so of course it’s the first thing Paige would say to her. She’s never liked conventional conversation starters, anyway.

Before Azzi can respond, three other texts come in tandem:

send me pics

WHOAAA pause, not those kinda pics. I just miss looking at u or whatever

but if you wanna send those kinda pics i wont complain 😛

Azzi rolls her eyes, albeit affectionately, at her phone screen. A pang of longing shoots through her stomach, reminding her just how much she misses her stupid, dorky girlfriend.

Typing quickly so that Paige won’t beat her to it, Azzi types: I miss you too p

And then, you’re like a teenage boy btw

The response comes fast: rudeee I just wanna see my girlfriend’s beautiful face

are you ovulating or something?

whoa howd you know

Once again, Azzi rolls her eyes. And then her thumb hovers over the camera app before she opts for Facetime instead, pressing the button and smiling when Paige answers halfway through the first ring.

“—out of my room, seriously!” Azzi catches the second half of Paige’s sentence, and immediately knows who she’s talking to—that tone is reserved for one particular little boy.

“Hi,” Azzi says, and Paige’s attention snaps down to her phone, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“Hi, baby,” she says softly, and then there’s giggling in the background and Paige looks away again. “Drew, for real, leave me alone!”

“I wanna say hi to Azzi, too,” Drew’s playful whine comes distantly over the speaker.

“Aw, let him say hi,” Azzi argues.

Paige glares down at her, but then Azzi gives her a stern look—she’s a firm believer that Paige needs to be nicer to perfect little Drew, even though she herself isn’t a saint to her own brothers by any stretch. Sighing dramatically, Paige passes the phone over to Drew, whose smiling little face appears on the screen. “Hi, Azzi!”

“Hey, Drewski,” Azzi replies, ignoring Paige’s mumbling in the background. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Today I beat Paigey in 1v1 and then she beat me up and knocked my tooth out.”

“Drew!” in a second, the phone is ripped away from him and back to Paige, who’s looking urgently at the phone. “He’s lying, he lost that tooth naturally.” She looks up, presumably at her hysterically laughing little brother. “And you didn’t beat me, I let you win.”

“Hey! I’m gonna tell Dad you said that!”

“He can’t do anything to me, I’m an adult.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that, too!”

“Well I’ma tell him you’re bothering me if you don’t get out my room!”

Finally, there’s the aggressive sound of the door slamming shut, and Paige smiles triumphantly down at the phone.

Azzi leans back against her pillows, shaking her head. “Fighting with him as if he isn’t seven years old.”

“Hey, I gotta do what I gotta do,” Paige replies, the background changing as she moves across her room to set the phone on her desk. “I’on like him around when we call.”

“Why not?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows the answer to that.

“‘Cus sometimes I wanna say things to you that nobody else should hear.” Paige grins devilishly, but there’s something a little heavier in her eyes, and that longing curls a little more dangerously in Azzi’s stomach now.

It’s been a long time, but they’ve yet to resort to phone sex. With Stewie curled at her feet and her brothers in the next rooms, Azzi decides she’d like to keep it that way.

“Again, teenage boy,” she teases, and it successfully changes the atmosphere.

Paige gasps and plops down in her desk chair in order to get a closer look at her. “That’s actually offensive.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, watching as Paige fiddles with something on her desk before picking up her gaming headset, and her mouth drops. “You’re not about to game while we’re on call right now.”

Freezing, Paige stares at her, slowly setting the headset down, “What? No, ‘course not.”

Azzi would call Paige a teenage boy again but she thinks it might actually give her a complex, so she decides against it. “Hey,” she says, already feeling her palms get sweaty at the thought of what her mom said earlier, “what do you think about belly piercings?”

“For you or for me?”

“In general.”

Paige shrugs, leaning back in her chair. “I dunno. They’re cute. Why?”

Azzi bites her lip. “My mom thinks I should get one.”

“Yeah?” Paige wiggles her eyebrows at her. “That’d be hot.”

“You think?”

Paige nods decidedly. “Yeah, I do. But you’d never get one, right? I mean, you cried last time you had to get your blood drawn.”

Azzi waves her off. “That was a long time ago.”

“That was four months ago, baby.”

“Okay, whatever.” Azzi flushes at the memory, how she and Paige had gone together for their physicals and how Azzi had been shaking with nerves while Paige sat cool as a fucking cucumber. Paige had teased her about it when the tears started, but she still wiped them away tenderly and later, Azzi heard her asking the nurse if they really had to do the needles. “Maybe I will do it.”

Paige looks at her with this doubt in her eyes that she hates. “You will, huh?”

“Maybe,” Azzi reiterates a little nervously, because she can’t promise anything, not when it comes to a long-ass needle going through her flesh. Okay, so, maybe not.

But Paige is almost smirking now and so she says, “I’m seriously thinking about it.”

Paige nods at her, clearly bemused. “Sure, sure. You, the girl who has a scar on her thigh from ripping a needle out of it—“

“I was four!”

“Still,” Paige laughs. “No way you’re getting that piercing. Maybe stick with a lil nose stud, that’d be cute.”

Deep down, Azzi feels a certain tug of competitiveness—all too familiar when it comes to her girlfriend. And, in this case, dangerous, because when Paige challenges her to something, she refuses to lose.

But, this isn’t a challenge. This is just Paige being Paige. It’s not a challenge until someone says—

“I’ll bet you twenty bucks you get a belly piercing,” Paige jokes. And dread curls in Azzi’s abdomen. Because there it is.

Scary needles and crushing anxiety aside—suddenly, Azzi needs that twenty dollars. And she will absolutely not be losing it.

————————————

Azzi is in her room, trying and failing for the third time this week to pack for college, when her mother appears in the doorway. “Hey, Az.”

“Yeah?” Azzi asks without looking up.

“Can you come help me unload the groceries? I can’t carry them all by myself.”

“Uh,” Azzi glances at her suitcase—which needs to have her whole life packed away inside it within the week—and decides it can wait, “yeah, sure.”

She doesn’t notice the twinkle in Katie’s eye as she gets up and heads out into the hallway. As she walks down it, she registers the muttered sounds of her family and realizes she hasn’t heard the dogs in a few moments. Turning back to her mom, she says, “Where are the dogs?”

“Oh, we put ‘em in our room,” Katie says, taking Azzi by the shoulders and ushering her down the hallway.

Azzi furrows her brow. “Why?”

Katie pushes her out into the living room and the first thing she notices is her brothers and dad all gathered there, watching her with—excitement? Anticipation? And she’s about to ask why when Katie takes her by the shoulders once again and turns her so she’s facing the front door, and there’s Paige, knelt down, focused on untying her shoes.

Azzi doesn’t move, because is this real? This has gotta be an stress-induced hallucination, right?

But, no. It’s real. She knows because Paige, her perfect, oblivious girlfriend, hasn’t noticed her yet, and is chattering away like she always does: “So then I was like, yo, it’s not my fault you didn’t buy an extra seat, so like, why would I give you mine? And usually I would’ve given it up but I told her, I was like, I gotta see my girl, I can’t get off this plane. Because that’s serious to me, you know? And I…”

Paige’s rambling trails off only when she finishes taking off her shoes and finally glances up, to find Azzi standing a little awestruck a couple feet away.

“Oh,” she says, smiling almost sheepishly at her as she straightens up, “hey.”

For some reason, that’s what snaps Azzi out of her Paige-induced trance and she sort of forgets about the rest of her family watching them as she crosses the few steps it takes to launch herself into Paige’s arms, nearly sobbing with relief of a weight she didn’t know was there being lifted off her shoulders as she’s wrapped up in an all-too-familiar embrace.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes, almost unable to believe it. “Why’re you here?”

Paige squeezes her tight, leans down to bury her face in the crook between her shoulder and neck. “Couldn’t wait any longer,” is all she says, and Azzi hasn’t ever agreed with anything more.

————————————

It’s not until later—after a celebratory lunch and family board games and then a celebratory dinner and family movie night, completed with ice cream sundaes—that they get a moment alone.

As soon as they’re stepping into Azzi’s bedroom, Paige is on her in a second, holding her tight by the waist and inhaling deeply into her hair. It’s almost instinctual the way Azzi reciprocates, her body moving on its own accord to wrap her arms around Paige’s broad shoulders and hold her close. It’s not for a few more moments that Paige says something. “Missed you so much, Az.”

“I know,” Azzi nods, pulling away just enough to get a good look at her girlfriend’s face, and though they’ve spent half the day together she still marvels at the fact that she’s looking at her without the barrier of a shitty internet connection, hearing her without the interruption of cackling speakers. “‘M happy you’re here, baby.”

“Me too,” Paige replies, leaning forward so their noses are touching. “We should never do that again, yeah?”

“What? Spend the summer apart?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, her eyes drifting shut as her lips brush up against Azzi’s. “Hated every second of it.”

“Me too,” Azzi breathes, closing her eyes as well at the feeling of Paige’s breath up against her lips, her hands running slowly up and down her back before moving to her stomach, pushing against her. Azzi gasps as her back hits the bedroom door, eyes opening to study her girlfriend’s face, to find her staring back. Her pale cheeks are already a little flushed, and Azzi must be wearing a similar expression because Paige chuckles softly before leaning down and finally pressing their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. Chaste enough but nothing like the few pecks they shared today—this is intimate and weighted and altogether not meant for her family to see.

“Azzi,” Paige mumbles needily against her lips and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s getting wet, just from a closed-mouth kiss and roaming hands on her stomach and an utterance of her name.

But she can’t really bring herself to be embarrassed. Because this is Paige. And it’s been so much longer than either of them can bear.

“Az,” Paige repeats, pressing soft kisses against the corner of her mouth now, “I…can we?” she pulls back and Azzi’s legs nearly give out at the hot, desperate look in Paige’s eyes. “Need you,” she insists.

Azzi glances over her shoulder, at the closed door and the hallway she knows is beyond, her family separated only by square meters and walls. It’s not an ideal situation.

But neither is holding off for another day. Even another hour might destroy her, if the damp spot growing on her panties has anything to say about it.

So, Azzi nods, untangling her arms from around Paige’s neck in order to reach back and lock the door. She can’t help but smile at the excitement in Paige’s eyes when she turns back to her, and at the same time she gives her a look that’s all warning. “We gotta be quiet, though.”

“Got it,” Paige nods, already walking them backwards toward the bed.

“And no strap,” Azzi continues, then squeals as quietly as possible when Paige pushes her down onto the bed.

Paige is back on her as soon as she’s lying down, kneeling on the bed to hover over her, and the pout on her face contrasts almost comically with the heat in her eyes. “But I brought it for us.”

Azzi isn’t all that surprised—of course Paige would bring their neglected dildo to her surprise visit at Azzi’s parent’s house. But Paige becomes sort of feral when that thing comes on and Azzi is no better, often unable to hold in the noises that rip their way out her throat while Paige pounds her.

As Azzi scoots back until her head hits the pillows, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck so she follows, she knows tonight isn’t the night for rough and filthy. The longing in her belly is heated, sure, the arousal leaking from her downright sinful—but there’s something almost innocent in the way she needs Paige tonight. She needs her as if she’s a piece of her that’s been missing too long, and it’s only natural to come back together like this.

“Paige,” she whispers, pulling her down, “please, just—don’t need any of that. Just need you, right now.”

Something softens almost immediately in Paige’s expression at that, the arousal clouding her gaze clearing just a bit and making way for pure, unadulterated love.

“Aight, baby,” Paige mutters, kissing Azzi again, and this time Azzi opens up for her, salivating when Paige’s tongue meets hers, pushing past to enter her mouth and lick around inside like she’s looking for something. Azzi’s legs go instinctively around Paige’s waist, hands tightening around her neck, anything to bring them as close as possible.

Paige pulls back when Azzi’s breath gets shaky, string of saliva connecting their lips until Paige licks it away. “I gotchu,” she reassures, one hand finding its way from where it’s bracing her on the bed to stroke down her cheek, to her collarbone. “Just relax, baby.”

“‘S been a long time,” Azzi replies, figuring that’s the reason for the lump of anxiety in her throat, the way she’s grasping at Paige as if she’ll disappear. And, sure, it’s only been three months—what’s three months, when plenty couples go years without seeing each other?—but for Paige and Azzi, it felt like an eternity. And Azzi realizes it’s a little overwhelming coming back to something so familiar all at once.

“I know,” Paige says, leaning down to trail her lips delicately against her jawline. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replies, a little breathily now that Paige is moving to that sweet spot on her neck. And when she gets there, she sucks, not quite hard enough to leave a bruise but hard enough for her to feel it. “Paige,” she murmurs, her own hands going to the hem of her sweater, “Wanna—take this off.”

“Okay,” Paige replies, helping Azzi sit up just enough to pull the piece of clothing off and toss it somewhere across the room. It’s dimly lit, only the moonlight and the lamp on Azzi’s bedside table to illuminate the room, but it’s plenty enough for Paige to take in Azzi’s bare torso, eyes flickering from her collarbones to her chest to her face, then back to her chest again where her gaze lingers—Azzi reminds herself to make fun of her for that later—and then, finally, Azzi watches her girlfriend’s gaze travel down the bare expanse of her stomach, to her navel, where her eyes widen and her jaw drops just slightly when she sees the new piercing sitting there.

“You…” Paige mumbles, never ripping her eyes from the piercing, and Azzi giggles. “You actually got it.”

“Had to,” Azzi says, pleased with the reaction. “You owe me twenty, by the way.”

Paige looks up at her then, and her free hand travels down Azzi’s stomach to cautiously touch the stud. “Did it hurt?”

Azzi nods. “Yeah. But it was worth it.”

Paige nods along with her. “Definitely worth it.”

Her lips reattach to her neck, but they don’t linger there, moving quickly down to the dip between her collarbones, her fingers still delicately playing with her piercing. “Got it a couple days after our FaceTime. You remember?”

Paige nips at her collarbone. “Yeah. Thought there was no way in hell you’d get it.”

“‘S why I did,” Azzi replies, tone going a little unsteady again as Paige’s lips travel lower, reminding her of the pulsing that’s beginning to ache between her legs. “Knew you’d like it.”

“I was right, though,” Paige replies, a little muffled as she kisses the pillowy flesh of Azzi’s chest, “it is hot.”

“Tha-anks,” Azzi moans out, clutching Paige’s hair as she finally attaches to a nipple. Her head falls back, relishing in the way Paige flicks her tongue, feeling so much better than Azzi’s own fingers ever could. She’s resorted many times to playing with herself while thinking of Paige, but it’s never the same. And maybe the knowledge of how good Paige is had begun slipping away from her, but it comes back now with sharp clarity as Paige suckles and then smooths down with the flat of her tongue.

Paige moves over to Azzi’s other breast, making sure to litter a few marks across her chest on the way, and she busies herself with removing Paige’s ponytail, fingers fumbling a few times around the hair tie before she gets it off. Paige chuckles against her when her hair falls loose around her shoulders, and Azzi smiles, too, watching through hooded eyes as Paige lifts her head to place a chaste kiss on her lips. “Can we take these off?” she asks, tugging at the waistband of Azzi’s sleep shorts.

Azzi nods, lifting her hips while Paige pulls them down, leaving her underwear on. It’s not exactly a cute pair—she didn’t prepare for sex when she woke up completely Paige-less this morning—but she can’t bring herself to be self-conscious about it.

“Mm,” Paige hums, dragging her lips down Azzi’s chest, to her navel, where the tip of her tongue pokes out, licking around her piercing. Turns out she likes it even more than Azzi thought she would. Azzi watches, lazily, while Paige presses open-mouthed kisses against her. She wants to urge her on but at the same time knows she needs to be patient, needs to let Paige take her time with her.

“Fuck,” Paige mumbles against her skin, then licks down to the hem of her underwear, kissing along it to nip at her hipbone. “Missed this so fucking much.”

“Baby,” Azzi breathes, watching Paige open her legs enough to settle between them, breathing hot and purposeful over Azzi’s clothed core.

“I know,” Paige mumbles, eyes locked on the wet patch on Azzi’s panties. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she brings a thumb to rub gently over Azzi’s clit, and it makes her hips push up for more. “I’ma eat you now, okay?” Paige says, looking up at her.

Azzi nods. “Please, P.”

Paige licks her lips, then presses them to the plush skin of her inner thigh, making quick work of pulling the panties off. As soon as she does, she spreads her open even wider, eyes hooded and mouth slightly open when she takes two fingers and spreads her folds. “Look at that,” she breathes, licking her thumb before using it to rub her clit in little circles. “She’s cryin’ for me, huh?”

“Fuck,” Azzi moans breathily when Paige nuzzles her nose up into her. Paige uses her free hand to press down on her abdomen, partly to keep her still and partly to make it feel better, and she tries to stay steady, resisting the urge to arch her hips up.

“Hold my hair, mama,” Paige says, and with shaking hands Azzi does, gathering her long hair away from her face. Glancing up at her, Paige licks a long stripe up her cunt as a reward. Azzi gasps desperately, gripping her hair a little more tightly and pulling her closer, urging her to do that thing she loves. And Paige gets it, smirking against her pussy before dipping her tongue into her hole, effectively drinking her up while her nose bumps against her clit. Head lulling back against the sheets, Azzi throws an arm over her face in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

“Tastes so good,” Paige moans into her, mouth wide open as she sucks her folds into her mouth. “Missed this shit so bad, mama.”

“Mm-hmm,” Azzi whines, unable to respond or even really register the words with the way Paige is making such a mess of her, spit mixing with Azzi’s own juices, leaking down onto the bed.

Paige licks into her entrance again, the warm muscle exploring that spongy spot inside her and then going up to her clit and sucking it harshly into her mouth. Azzi bites down on her hand—otherwise, she’d sob.

When Paige looks up and catches her struggle, she smirks and wraps her arms around Azzi’s thighs, situating them over her shoulders and pressing a few tender kisses to Azzi’s clit. “So pretty, baby,” she mutters, and Azzi shivers when her hot breath hits her cunt. “Wanna do this forever.” She works her jaw, and Azzi barely has time to register what she’s doing before Paige spits on her, using her hand to rub it in, and then going in and licking it back up.

“P—“ Azzi chokes, scratching her nails roughly through Paige’s hair, holding her head close enough that she doesn’t move when her hips cant up. That warmth in her belly becomes tense, a familiar knot forming there, and her legs begin to shake.

“Close?” Paige asks, knowing all her tells.

Azzi nods urgently, pulling Paige’s head back down, gasping as she presses the flat of her tongue against her clit before flicking it at an impossible speed, her hips grinding up as she rides Paige’s face, head turning to the side to bury into her pillow.

“God, Paige—gonna come,” she says urgently, the feeling of Paige nodding against her only hurdling her closer, “fuck, love you so much. Love you so fucking much, gonna make me come, fu-uckkk!”

She thrashes, legs shaking impossibly hard as Paige licks her through it, her hand rubbing furiously at Azzi’s poor clit while she slurps up the arousal gushing from her, and she doesn’t stop until Azzi’s heels are kicking against her back, palm of her hand pushing at her forehead.

Even then, Paige gives her a last kiss on her clit before surging up to meet her lips, the kiss they share far too tender for what just happened.

“Missed that,” Paige whispers, smiling down at her when they separate.

“Fuck,” Azzi sighs, looking up at her girlfriend almost in disbelief. “Me, too.”

She combs her fingers gently through Paige’s hair, getting the knots, and Paige’s eyes flutter shut. Slowly, she lets her hands wander, down her shoulders, her chest, to her stomach. “Baby,” she whispers, watching Paige open her eyes slowly, “need to see you.”

Paige hesitates and for a moment Azzi thinks she might be too tired, but the next second she’s reaching behind her and pulling her t-shirt off. Azzi’s hands immediately go to those toned abs she loves so much, then up to Paige’s sports bra. “This, too.”

Obediently, Paige pulls the tight material over her head, tossing it along with the rest of their clothes. Azzi doesn’t take her time—can’t bring herself to, not now—bringing her hands up to Paige’s tits and squeezing them. Paige inches up, encouraging her, and Azzi lifts her mouth to one of her hands, separating her fingers to expose a nipple and taking it between her lips. Paige is quick to react, bracing herself on Azzi’s shoulders while she grinds down onto one of her thighs, and Azzi can feel the wetness through her sweats.

While her tongue works over the pert nipple, she lets her other hand wander back down Paige’s stomach, under her sweatpants, and when Paige grinds down encouragingly, she dips her fingers into her boxers. Using her pointer and ring fingers, she spreads her folds, then drags her middle finger up her sopping slit, groaning into her breast at the sheer amount of wetness she feels there.

“Az,” Paige breathes, bearing down on Azzi’s hand, but the angle is all wrong and she pulls of her tit with a pop.

Urging Paige off her lap, Azzi flips them over, knowing Paige would resist if she wanted to. But Paige is needy, hair a mess and lips swollen, chin still a little wet with Azzi’s arousal, baby blue’s wide as she stares reverently at her. “Lay back, baby,” she mutters, making quick work of the rest of Paige’s clothes once the girl obeys.

As soon as she’s naked, Azzi crawls over her, dipping her hand back between her legs, warm heat pooling at her fingers. “So wet, P. I make you like this?”

“Fuck, yes,” Paige replies, and it’s her turn to wrap her arms around Azzi’s shoulders, nails scratching a little when Azzi dips a finger into her hole.

“You want it?” Azzi asks, teasing, rubbing her thumb over Paige’s clit before going back down to her entrance.

“Need it,” Paige insists.

“Gonna be good for me?” Azzi murmurs, leaning down so she’s right by her ear, making Paige shiver. “Gonna be quiet, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige says, the submissive tone in her voice rare and so fucking sexy, “promise, baby.”

“Mm,” Azzi hums, relishing in the little noise Paige makes as she slides a finger inside her. Paige arches forward, burying her head in Azzi’s neck, and Azzi presses comforting kisses to her shoulder, shushing her gently. She pumps in and out a few times, getting her ready, before sliding another one in, and she loves the way Paige curls even further into her—not an inch of space between them. She wishes they could stay like this forever.

Starting out slow, Azzi goes in an out, spreading her fingers against the impossible tightness surrounding her fingers. She glances down between their bodies, but it’s hard to see—still, she can just make out Paige’s cunt sucking her fingers in eagerly, and she moans maybe a little too loud.

“Oh, oh,” Paige whines into her neck, clinging onto her as Azzi picks up speed, “don’t stop, so good.”

Azzi bites her lip, concentrating, and on her next thrust she hooks her fingers upward on the way out, letting them drag against that spongy spot deep inside, and Paige sobs, nodding feverishly.

Azzi pulls away, forcing Paige’s head out of her neck so they can look at each other. She uses her free hand to brush a damp strand of hair from Paige’s face. “Right there?”

“Yeah,” Paige breathes, obviously doing her best to be quiet, and Azzi thinks they’ll need to empty out the house tomorrow so they can do this again without so many restraints.

Azzi repeats the motion once, twice, and Paige’s eyes roll to the back of her head. Her thighs clench around Azzi’s hand, abs tightening—she’s getting close.

Nuzzling their noses together, Azzi brings her thumb to Paige’s clit and starts rubbing hard.

Paige cries out weakly. Azzi presses their lips together, regretfully swallowing every noise Paige makes, arm growing tired as she works her over, thrusting fast and hard now. Paige is writhing, hands keeping Azzi close as if she’s going to up and leave.

“Not going anywhere,” Azzi murmurs against her lips. “You okay?”

Paige moans. “Getting close—just…stay right here.”

“Okay, baby,” Azzi whispers. “Just relax, I got you. You’re okay.”

It works, Paige softening around the edges, jaw unclenching and legs falling open, eyes hooded and searching as they look into Azzi’s. Azzi nods at her, kissing her lips and then the tip of her nose, not once slowing the pace of her fingers. “Doing good, baby. Gonna come?”

“Yeah,” Paige breathes, nodding fervently. “So close.”

Azzi punctuates it with a particularly hard thrust, loving the way Paige whines for her. “Missed making you come,” Azzi groans, forehead dropping onto Paige’s. “Missed fucking you.”

Paige swallows thickly, supposedly swallowing down a particularly loud sound, and Azzi rubs at her clit to the point of abuse. Paige opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something but then her jaw goes slack and her eyebrows furrow and she’s coming, hard, choking on a moan, bottom lip trembling like she might cry.

Enthralled, Azzi watches, trying to commit everything to memory—the way Paige’s tits arch up, the way she throws her head back, the way she bites her swollen lips, the way tears form at the corners of her eyes but don’t fall. Azzi hadn’t realized quite how much she missed this until just now.

As Paige comes down, pushing Azzi’s wrist so she’ll pull out, Azzi settles herself gently on top of her, pressing kisses to her face and neck. Paige’s arms soothe down her back then back up, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“Good?” Azzi asks, giggling tiredly when Paige stares at her as if she hung the stars in the sky.

“Perfect,” Paige corrects, watching as Azzi lazily licks at her fingers, cleaning them off. “We can never be apart again, okay?”

“I can’t promise that.”

“I’ma—like, sneak you into my suitcase if I ever have to leave,” Paige insists, pulling Azzi down so she’s lying fully on top of her. “Gonna fuck you every day, I’on care.”

Azzi laughs, resting her cheek on Paige’s chest. “You’re an idiot.”

“Be quiet,” Paige says, pushing half-heartedly at her shoulder.

“Shit,” she says after a moment.

Azzi lifts her head to look quizzically at her. “What?”

“I really love your belly piercing.”

[cowlings]

may I request miss🙋🏻‍♀️ some high nsfw katsuki

warnings for nsfw, p star! katsuki, no quirk college au, consumption of weed n alc, masturbation, fem! reader, it’s a cliffhanger i’m sorry i don’t have the brain rn

katsuki bakugo would become a porn star entirely on accident.

the topic would surge from time to time in his friend group, mostly as a joke. because "gosh, bakugo! you have the body of a porn star! you sure you're not on some secret account we don't know about?" and it really got to him. what does a porn star body look like, anyway? it's a mystery to him, as he pulls out his phone on incognito and...

he's in disbelief. he's actually looking up porn. never in his life would katsuki bakugo ever think of doing so. katsuki feels like he'd be less guilty if he's not sober whatsoever, so he's searching multiple accounts on his twitter throwaway with one hand as the other holds a small joint. it's not long before his eyes are completely red, pants and boxers slid down to his ankles, and videos recommended by kaminari going on auto-play.

but he's not satisfied, not one bit. he stopped caring for physique videos ago, he's now entertained by the poor technique. with blurry vision, he reads the replies and quote tweets, expressing their inconformities. comments like "god, her moans sound so fake", or "can't he stroke it slowly? i want it to last" make his mind run. katsuki bakugo was lost in the world of constructive criticism, while his ego began to chew at him.

he can do better than those stupid extras, right?

of fucking course. he's katsuki bakugo. but he's not gonna fucking do it. nope. never.

katsuki bakugo is a lightweight. he feels like he's sitting on the moon instead of his couch as he's gulping down some cheap rum his friends bought the week prior. and soon enough, his camera app is open, cock fully on display, and he's stroking it for a few good minutes. and the camera catches everything—how his cock twitches every time his strokes get slower, how the tip was reddish and filled with precum from the very beginning, his heavenly moans, his white-knuckled grip, and how his knees shake as he comes undone and stains his red, velvet couch.

and he has the video on twitter as a draft, half written caption and all. katsuki needs to visualize how it would look like if he posted. until he does. his finger slips, and the video and half caption are posted. at first, katsuki is mortified and doesn’t know what to do, until he sees a person liking and commenting. he decides to leave it up until he sobers up.

twelve hours and a huge hangover later, user 00179359027728kb is a twitter porn sensation.

thousands of users express their love for him, asking and demanding for more videos, as well as wishing to be his partner in crime. when katsuki realizes he can monetize this, he suddenly has dollar signs for eyes. a few videos later and katsuki bakugo is famous.

so famous, in fact, that one of your friends is in love with him, despite only seeing the lower half of his face. she raves about him to you on the daily, and as a result you find yourself creating a throwaway to watch his videos, and damn—katsuki is fucking sensational. he’s an icon, and you wish he were in your bed right then and there.

but he’s quickly discarded by your own brain as you get ready for an outing. it’s a nice, weekend night, and your friends are ready to go clubbing. once you get there it’s… okay, you suppose. dim lighting, people stuffed like sardines in a can, and the occasional couple eating their faces in the corner. you know the many cocktails you had are catching up to you once you accidentally bump into a person, and as you turn to apologize, you’re stunned.

“y’should watch where you’re going.”

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t see y—wait—are you that kb guy from twitter?”

he’s like a deer in headlights. “…that depends. who’s askin’”

“name’s y/n” you giggle, “i know you cause i have a friend who’s nuts for you.”

you officially pique katsuki‘s interest. his eyebrow rises as he smirks, “oh, is she?” he tilts his head to the side, “what about you, sweets? you watch me too?”

shyly, you nod. his smirk gets bigger as he steps closer, “she here? i don’t really do pictures, though.”

“do you do videos?”

liquid courage. it would cost you a lot to even say that sober, and you blame your drunken state for your boldness. katsuki bakugo has that fiery look in his eye as he laughs. “sure i do, sweets. you wanna be the first model for my page or is it just to spite yer friend?”

first?

only model is your goal. you’re determined to make that happen.

“bathroom? in 5?”

“ya got it, captain.”

[bonbonly]

If you are such a hore for charles rn, maybe we could get more sugar daddy charles? Maybe him punishing you for some reason?

you're spoiling me so badly right now PUHLEASE

bon's thoughts (18+)

sugardaddy!charles had specifically told you to get back home at 8:00 because he was going to take you out for dinner. you should've known your friends had different plans for you, though. they knew about your arrangement with the older man, and they couldn't stop giggling. you had asked charles to buy you some expensive purses, and he was happy that you were asking him to indulge you so he bought them. only problem was that you had gotten them for your friends who kept pestering you in between classes for those items. every time you’d sneak a new gucci bag for your best friend, you’d grow more worried that charles would one day ask you where all the bags he bought for you were. his money was only for you, not for your friends.

you received a text from charles at 6:30, asking you to finish your last class and head over to his place so you could wear an elegant red dress he bought you, and the gucci bag. you freak out, turning to your friend and begging her to give the bag back just for tonight but she frowned, telling you the bag was all the way back at her house 500 miles from the university. you nearly fainted at her words. charles was going to punish you for this, you were sure of it. so, you decided to do what you always did - ignore his texts because truth be told, you did like the angry sex that followed - but it was better than him not gifting you anything if he found out you’d been giving them to your friends, little miss saint.

“where’s the bag?” was the first question charles asked you when you finally returned home, “i searched all over your closet, mon chérie, i cannot find any of your bags.”

you gulp, awkwardly laughing, “a-about that actually…”

charles is laughing at the dinner table with some of his colleagues. he had been laughing this entire time, which you thought was a good sign but then again, he was never this cheerful. some of the people at the table stand up to grab some extra food, and you turn to face charles, leaning in to whisper into his ear,

"y-you're not mad at me?" you ask.

"mad? no," he responds, and you let out a sigh in relief, "no, i'm fuming, my love."

your jaw drops, and you feel him squeeze your thigh harshly, enough for it to hurt just a tiny bit. your eyes snap down to where his thumb is caressing the fat of your skin before he snickers under his breath, "my money is for your benefit. if i wanted to give money to your friends, i'd be a charity foundation, not your sugar daddy, is that clear?"

you nod your head, "i-i'm sorry, i kept trying to tell them no but they wouldn't listen! i would never try to go against you like that, you know-" your words are cut off as his fingers trail up your thigh, cupping your heat. you stiffen in your seat, making sure no one was looking to see what was happening under the table. charles' fingertips drag along your clothed cunt, and he smiles at the way you're squirming in your seat, begging him to stop, "no, not now. what if someone sees?"

"let everyone see how i use you, how you're mine and only mine. i must fuck you too hard because your brain just can't seem to understand it, hm? ma chérie, you're on the thinnest of ice as we speak right now. you're going to take my fingers for the rest of the night, and not a word out of you. not one sound." charles kisses your cheek, fingers pushing your panties to the side before collecting your arousal around your slick folds. you bite your tongue, trying not to whimper when his fingers push into your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. when the guests start coming back, you squish your thighs together as an effort to stop him but he glares at you, using his free hand to hold your thigh open as his fingers curl inside you.

"dinner's really good, right?" a woman asks you and you moan out loud,

"mhm, so good," you force a smile, narrowing your eyes at charles who's pumping his fingers faster inside you, a proud look on his face,

"my baby loves restaurants like this, i would take her to each one if she didn't want to waste my money so much," his eyes flicker at you, loving the way you're clearly struggling to hold it together. no noise, no sound, those words echo in your mind and you take massive bites of your food to occupy your mouth so you won't accidentally slip out another moan. thankfully, a performance in the background had just ended as the audience roars into applause, you let out a guttural moan that's disguised. you slump against your chair, chest heaving as charles pulls his fingers out and sucks your juices off, licking them clean before staring at you,

"if they ask, i'll tell them you're in the bathroom. they'll leave in a few minutes to the bar anyway," he instructs and you open your mouth to argue but he's quickly shoving you under the table. you want to use his money for your friends, wasting his time and energy to buy whatever you want? you can wait and do what he wants now, he doesn't care. he unbuckles his belt carefully, eyes flickering to his friends whose backs face him. they're too busy watching the singer on stage pour her heart out into a verse. he chuckles as he wraps the table's cloth around your face, only your mouth visible to him and he pulls out his throbbing member, shoving it down your throat without warning. your gags are silenced instantly and charles grips the back of your head, thrusting ruthlessly into your mouth as tears slip your eyes,

"you like it when i use you like this, right?" charles whispers, crouching down to make it look like he's on his phone, "fuck, using my money for your friends? how sweet, so sweet of you, mon chérie. so kind and helpful! i didn't know my little girl was this sweet to her friends at the expense of my money." he hisses, hands going under the table to yank your hair so that your mouth could open even wider for him. his balls slap against your chin, and he has to quiet his grunts as his thrusts become more erratic.

"fuck, i cannot wait to take you back home and fuck you properly. make sure you cannot walk for days so you won't come up with something stupid like this again." he scoffs, groaning under his breath as he shoots ropes of his cum down your throat. when he pulls out, he admires the sight of his cum dribbilng down your neck, dropping onto your full breasts that almost spill out of your dress.

"stay there for 5 minutes." charles says, "in the meantime, make yourself useful for me," and he sticks his thumb in your mouth, watching you suck diligently as he waits for his friends to leave.

[hungryriverbeast]

reading stories like this always make me so sad and open my mind up a little more each time to what other kids experiences were like. It wasn't until highschool that I realized I had a very gender neutral upbringing and how rare that is.

I was raised by my single grandmother who was born in 1937; this woman was a huge feminist and never stopped me from making my own choices about clothes, toys, hobbies, activities, or friends I made. She'd say, "anything boys can do, girls can do too."

When I wanted boys clothes, she said "sure girl, go for it" and let me wander and pick what I wanted. When I picked out boys cargo shorts she said "cool, more pockets for snacks!" When I wanted animal, science and dinosaur toys shed go "Oooooo, I like the eagles, good choice." She made sure I tried everything; kids theater, art classes, running, pottery, most sports at least once, rock climbing, girl scouts, music, skateboarding, singing, gardening, swimming, reading, tree climbing, etc. nothing was off limits, I didn't know there *could be limits.* I ran in the woods and got dirty all the time and it was no big deal. I made friends with boys and girls. We had a mail subscription to kids science magazines we'd read together. Presents from her were always things I'd already had my eye on, and we'd happily donate anything I didn't want.

Of course, I didn't live in a bubble and I'd see how some other kids got treated, (or how distant relatives wanted to treat me) but I truly thought only those adults individually were especially strict or "weird." And I thought that kids who were very gendered in their presentation where actively choosing that; if a girl was really feminine I thought that was her choice, and vice versa for boys. For a long time I never felt strange or othered, or different, it wasn't until highschool that suddenly the pressures of society hit me, and I wanted to be liked, so I started to conform, to started performing femininity for the first time. To fold myself smaller and smaller.

I hate that there's so many kids (and adults) being treated like a cardboard cut-out of who they really are. It took a long time to unlearn that shit and start remembering what my grandma taught me all along; to be strong, independent, and to be myself. To chase my own happiness. Shed say "Oh girl, who cares what other people think! Who's got the time anyway. Do what you're going to do and don't let anyone stop you."

Miss you Gram. ❤️‍🩹

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that's what a Boy Child does.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter three. boobs and beers

pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 4.7k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, heather should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.

authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!

“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”

His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”

You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”

Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”

“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.

“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.

You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.

“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”

His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”

You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”

He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”

You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.

His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”

“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”

This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.

“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.

“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”

“What?”

You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”

But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”

“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.

“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”

This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”

“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.

You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”

You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”

You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”

The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.

“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”

“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.

But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.

“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.

“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.

“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.

He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”

Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”

You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”

“How about breasts?”

“Gross.”

—

One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.

Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.

Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.

So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.

“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.

“Now, we shop.”

It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.

You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.

You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.

You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.

“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.

Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.

You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.

Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”

Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.

“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”

“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.

This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”

You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”

You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”

You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”

“Not in yours?”

“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”

“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.

“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.

He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.

Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”

The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.

—

—

Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.

Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.

You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.

You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”

He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.

Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.

Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.

His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”

“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”

This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”

“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.

“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”

“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.

The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”

This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”

You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick.”

“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“

“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”

“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.

“I’m here!”

She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.

“Who?”

“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.

“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”

“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.

You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.

Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”

He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”

“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.

You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up

“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”

Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”

Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.

You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.

Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”

“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”

Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”

Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”

“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.

But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”

He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”

His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.

“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”

“Stop saying boobs!”

—

taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco0

[runnning-outof-time]

Someone For Christmas - Tommy Shelby x Reader

“You’ve been a better man since she’s entered your life, Thomas,” Polly commented, a knowing look present on her face, “don’t go back to the man you were before her.”

She was the first to visit the brooding Tommy Shelby that evening, and she brought back to light all of the poor choices he’d made in the past.

“She’s done way more for you than anyone else has,” Ada said as she sat down across from her brother, “I see how she helps you every day. Only a fool would let her go, Tom.”

Tommy stared straight ahead at the Christmas tree as his sister rehashed all of the correct decisions he’d made recently…and she made sure to point out how the woman being mentioned was part of every one.

“I really like her, dad,” five year old Charles Shelby’s voice was soft as he held onto the doorknob of his father’s study. “Will she come back for Christmas?”

This time, Tommy looked at the person — the third of the day — addressing him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “I…I, I don’t know, son,” was all he managed to get out.

“Why’d you call me here, Tommy?”

This time Tommy Shelby was the one who requested a visitor.

“I wanted to speak to you,” he answered, not realizing how business forward the sentence sounded until it left his lips. The fact that her one eyebrow quirked upward immediately after he finished speaking told him that he’d be fighting an up-hill battle.

“About?” she asked, her guard still very much up. She couldn’t believe he called her back again….she couldn’t believe she gave in and listened, again.

“I need you to come back, (Y/N),” he decided it’d be best not to dance around the subject.

“If you want to win me back, that’s not how you do it,” she blatantly responded. Tommy sighed, running a hand over his face. “Did someone put you up to this?” she then asked another question, “because it seemed like where we stood was pretty final the last time we spoke.”

“Charlie came to me,” he chose the one out of his previous three visitors who he felt would cut through her reinforcements the deepest. “He said he missed you, asked if you’d be here for Christmas. He really likes you.”

“I really like him too,” a soft smile formed on (Y/N)’s face as she thought of the boy. Tommy thought he was finally gaining some headway. “Shame his father’s a terrible man,” she couldn’t resist getting a dig in.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy locked eyes with her, a deadpanned expression present on his features.

“You brought this upon yourself,” she didn’t crumble under his gaze, instead returning it to him.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” he paused to sigh, pressing the pads of his thumb and index finger against his eyelids, “this meeting was meant to be an extension of an olive branch.”

“Tommy Shelby offering peace?” the surprise was clear in (Y/N)’s voice as her eyes widened greatly. “Well I’ll be damned…it’s a Christmas miracle!” her sarcastic comment had him sending another glare her way. She couldn’t help but smile at it…she was having fun getting under his skin.

A moment’s pause fell over the conversation as Tommy took some time to regain himself. There was no use blowing this up to more than it had to be. He knew (Y/N) was trying to push his buttons, and he had to hand it to her…she was succeeding. There was no hiding the fact that they had some things that they needed to hash out, and he had no doubt that they’d get to that soon enough. Christmas Eve wasn’t the time for that though. Right now all that he could think of was his son, and how he so desperately wanted someone other than his preoccupied father sitting beside him in front of the Christmas tree come tomorrow morning.

“Will you accept it?” he finally asked, affirming that he wanted no parts of getting into the details of the animosity that stood between them.

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to think. She truly did love Charlie, even if his father had been getting on her nerves as of recently. What she didn’t want was this to seem like her seceding to him so quickly. If he wanted her back this time, he was going to have to work for it.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy called out, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the conversation they were having.

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him again. His eyes were already intently on her, and she knew that he wouldn’t wait much longer for her response. Thankfully she’d decided - right now they didn’t need to discuss what their future would look like…right now they needed to focus on going one day at a time.

So with that in mind, she answered him: “everyone should have someone for Christmas…” she paused, letting those words sink in for a moment before she added the second half of her statement: “and right now, that’s all you’ll have me for.”

A/N: congrats on 17k, Chi! I’m sorry that wasn’t able to write something more than these few lines. This was my take on the movie/book A Christmas Carol - I hope it came across as such.

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