#Beer would be C cup

[sneaky-tank]

Turns out pure methanol is stuffing her already insane bust with molecular sieves which she somehow fits into her incredibly sexy outfit (because the poisonous alcohols are 'evil' and therefore hotter of course).

Also for the chest sizes can we go up to Z² please? I'd like to see some real heckin badonkers here.

Anime where the girls are anthropomorphic personifications of different types of liquor (their chest sizes correlating with their alcohol content, obviously) and all the episodes are about mixing cocktails (they fuck).

[bruhstories]

Bet II

p.1 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember. 

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

[stvrnzcherries]

› BRUTAL

c. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: Chris got into a fight with his girlfriend Paige and you comforted him until things led to another...

warnings: dom!chris, angst, smut, fingering, degrading kink, make out, pet names, cheating, alcohol, use of y/n, throwing up, toxic relationship.

word count: 2.4k

You were at a house party that a few friends of the triplets organized. You were near the drinks table with Nick and Madi while Matt, Chris, and his girlfriend Paige were on the other side of the house. The thing is that you’re drunk right now and you can't help but stare at Chris, the way he caresses Paige's waist, the way he leans to whisper dirty little things to her, you want that, you want to be the one that he says those things, you want to be the one he can touch, love, crave for.

And it killed you that she was perfect and you felt like you would never be like her.

Little did you know...

“Y/n!” Nick snaps you out of your trance waving a hand across your face.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You asked while you kept glaring at Chris’ direction.

“Do you want to play beer pong with us?” He asked once again

You nodded and that's when you saw Chris leaving with Paige upstairs.

Ouch.

This shouldn't be affecting you this much, but it hurts like hell. You can’t even recall when you started to feel this way about him, but it drove you crazy.

“Sure, but I kinda need some water…” And that’s when you felt it, your stomach turning, feeling the lump forming in your throat, this was the moment where your decision to get drunk would make you suffer the consequences for it. Kneeling on the floor, wrapping your arms around your stomach, feeling the acid making you gag, your first instinct was to pick up your cup and throw up on the inside, If you were going to humiliate yourself, the least you could do was to not make a mess on the fucking floor.

Feeling the sensation wear off slightly after literally throwing up your intestines (or at least that’s how it felt) you tried to stand up. Failing miserably, causing Nick and Madi to pick you up and rest your left arm around Nick’s shoulders and your right arm on Madi’s shoulders, trying to carry you to the bathroom as fast as they could.

Chris' POV

I went upstairs with Paige since she needed to talk to me. I think I’ve never felt so anxious in my life as I do right now. That’s when we got there and the conversation in reality was just Paige complaining about a trip I was going on with my brothers in a few days. “I just don’t understand why can’t you stay here with me!” she yelled.

“I already told you a few weeks ago that I’m not canceling another trip with my brothers just because you feel like not letting me go, you’re not my fucking mother to tell me where I can go or not, what I can do or not! Because guess what, Paige, I can do the fuck I want.” I snapped back, making Paige turn around and slap me harshly, leaving a red mark across my cheek.

I held my cheek, not feeling slightly shocked anymore since this started way back ago, I could tell by her face that she regretted it instantly.

“Chris, baby…” she tried to place her hand on the spot where she marked, making me pull away from her touch.

“And now you just gave me more reasons to go on that fucking trip,” I added between sobs, trying to hold back the tears, turning my back to her.

"Please, don't leave me… I can fix this..." She gripped my arm.

"As far as I remember, you mentioned the same thing last time we fought." The resentment showed up in my voice, but I couldn't help it. How could someone so perfect turn into a complete monster? How can someone hurt someone they love?

And when I left the room, I would rather not see her face or hear her voice.

Y/n’s POV

You were in the bathroom throwing up while Madi was making you a ponytail and Nick rubbed your back. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Shit,” Nick murmured as you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling way better than how you were.

“What?” Madi asked, her voice sounding tense.

“Matt just texted me we’re leaving right now.” You sat up straight, panicking, “What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to go until 1:00 AM…”

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, there’s a change of plans.”

You checked your phone, and it was only midnight, “You guys should convince Matt if we can go in 30 minutes?”

They looked at each other and then back at you, “We won’t leave you here, y/n.”

“I’ll be fine, guys don’t need to worry about me.” You smiled at both of them.

Nick shook his head. “I’ll just text Chris to ask him if he can try to convince Matt to let us stay a little longer.” He spoke as he started to type on his phone. “We’re not leaving you here alone, end of the conversation.”

"Alright, Dad," you replied jokingly, having as a response an eye roll from Nick as he was about to laugh.

Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of you were still inside the bathroom waiting for Chris’ answer. “Did he text you already?” You asked as you rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting sour taste you had.

"Yes, and he's giving me a headache already!" Nick answered as he kept texting back and forth with whom you supposed was Chris, "He won't stop being a fucking baby, and it's bitch complaining to me that Matt keeps insisting that we have to go now."

"Well...maybe we should try to—" You got interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, you all looked at each other confused.

As you open the door, you see a long-haired brunette and a pair of pretty blue eyes.

It was Chris. His eyes seemed puffy and a little red as if he were crying. “Is Nick here?” Anger was plastered on his face.

That’s when Nick stood up and opened the bathroom door, “What the fuck, Chris? Can’t you do a simple task?” causing Chris to scoff “And you clearly can’t read. I texted you back saying that Matt didn’t give a shit about you guys needing more time. He wants to go now.”

“Did you explain to him that y/n is not feeling well right now?” Nick snapped back, crossing his arms.

Chris rubbed his face with both his hands before scanning your entire face. “Isn’t she okay now?”

“Chris! She could barely walk by herself a few minutes ago, why’s is it so hard for you to do a fucking favor and ask our brother to give us some time?!” Nick answered, his voice rising.

“Because I don’t understand why the fuck you guys need more time, y/n look completely fine, and you’re making a huge fucking deal out of it!” Chris’ voice also got a little louder.

“Because it will be a fucking huge deal when she’s throwing up all over the fucking car!” He shouted.

Chris’ jaw clenched.

“Then why don’t you ask Matt, since it’s such a big deal, huh?”

“Fine, I’ll fucking go and instead you and y/n will stay here while Madi and I sort this out since it’s so difficult for you.” Nick left the bathroom, Madi following his pace as Chris moved out of the way so they could get out.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—” Chris shut the door behind him and looked at you, tears forming in his eyes. Your first instinct was to hug him.

He just cried as silently as he could. You guessed that alcohol hits him differently than it does to you. He dragged you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, and you began to stroke his hair. “Everything’s going to be alright, Chris.”

“No, it’s not, I’m a fucking burden to everybody and,” His sobs getting louder than before. “First, I fought with Paige and now Nick.”

You pulled back to look at his face, pulling his chin up so he could look at you, “You’re not a burden to no one, Chris.” You said, “You’re like the sun, and when the sun comes out, everyone smiles.” You kept talking, caressing his right cheek with your thumb, “Besides, whatever you and Paige fought about was just because she was drunk, it’ll pass.”

He just nodded and then rested his face on the crook of your neck and kept crying a little.

A few minutes had passed, you and Chris were sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing and talking a little.

“You know, If I’m being honest…I kind of envy Paige.” You said while looking up at the ceiling.

“Why?” Chris replied, furrowing his brows slightly

“Because she’s so beautiful and I’m not…” You admitted.

“Well that’s not true, you are really beautiful too.” He looked at you and smiled.

Beautiful, he called you beautiful.

A buzz sound came from Chris’ phone, he picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”

“What he said?”

“Matt accepted to stay a little more.”

“Excellent! This means I can finally get out of this bathroom.” You stood up and fixed your dress a bit, offering a hand to Chris.

He took your hand and stood up, as he was looking at you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips.

And that’s when you noticed how your faces were just inches apart, feeling his breath hitting your face softly. “Chris…”

“Y/n…”

His palms were resting now on your cheeks, your mouths almost touching, “Do you want to kiss me, hm?” He suggested, grazing his lips against yours teasingly, causing you to shiver a little.

Of course, you wanted it, but was it right? Will he regret it? Will you regret it?

Something snapped you back from reality, cold hands running on your lower back down to your ass, gripping it slightly, “I asked you something.” His voice shifted to a demanding tone.

Fuck it.

You crush your lips against his. At first, it was sloppy, both fighting for dominance, he kept his grip on your ass, gripping it harder. Making you gasp.

And that’s when he gets the chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. Your body pressed against the cold marble sink that was right behind you, his hands now resting on the sides of your hips. Chris picked you up from your thighs and sat you up on the bathroom sink. Lifting your dress to reveal your black laced panties.

His hand snaked down to your inner thigh. His kisses lowered from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. His fingers finally got to your heat, your panties soaking wet. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered, causing you to whimper a bit. He pulled your panties to the side and began to rub in circles your sensitive nub, whimpers coming out of your mouth. Shaking breaths, your hands gripping on the sink, your knuckles getting white.

“You fucking like that, don’t you?” Chris asked through gritted teeth, applying more pressure on your clit. You nodded but that made things worse, “You better use your fucking words, y/n. Or else I’ll stop and leave you all alone.”

“Y-yes, I l-like i-it.” You handled letting out. Chris smirked and kept stroking your clit. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, your head resting against the mirror wall, feeling the wave of pleasure consuming you. “Fuck…”

But then, the pleasure stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Chris, he was smirking at you while he sucked his fingers, guiding them back to your throbbing pussy. Slipping them inside you, painfully slow. Your walls clench around his fingers, your legs squeezing with each other, a loud gasp coming out from you. Chris began to pick up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you “Just like that, keep making those pretty noises for me like a good girl.” He groaned, intensifying his speed with each thrust.

He looked down where his fingers were working their way to bring you over the edge, you let pornographic moans out of your mouth, giving Chris what he wants.

Control.

“You look so fucking pathetic right now.” He grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced you to see him, his eyes darkened and full of desire. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You fucking slut.” Chris whispered to you, pumping his fingers mercilessly in and out of you. “You wanted this? You wanted me to finger you?”

You nodded desperately, feeling the well-known knot forming inside of you, you were about to come. “I-I’m so c-close,” you mumbled. “What was that?” He gripped your chin tighter. Your hands grasp tighter on the bathroom sink, your climax getting closer and closer with each thrust. “Don’t stop, fuck.” You spat, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt finally getting to the edge.

“I won't.” He replied, getting closer to leave a few hickeys on your collarbone and the crook of your neck. That's when you felt your release “Fuck!” a loud moan coming out from you, your walls clenching around Chris’ fingers. Your juices flooded all over his fingers. Chris took out his fingers, a popping sound as he did. Your chest goes up and down violently, and your breath is heavy.

He looked at his fingers then at you, “Open your eyes, now.” You open your eyes slowly to get the view of Chris cleaning out his fingers until there isn't a single drop of your juices around his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, ma.”

What the fuck was going on tonight.

You were in the backseat with Nick and Madi, gossiping about tonight's party “It was fun.” Nick admitted.

“Yeah, I think I’m not going to parties anymore,” Matt added.

And there was Chris, glancing at you a few times before they left you at your apartment.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said to them as you waved at them.

You're finally in a quieter place, where you can think about what just happened tonight with Chris.

It finally happened, you finally got what you wanted with Chris and even more.

But it wasn’t enough, you craved for more.

But then, reality hits.

He was still with Paige, and you were just a distraction to him.

Or that’s what you thought until…

You got a text from someone.

It was Chris.

a/n: not the best one-shots ever but here you go!!! Lmk if there are any mistakes!

Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES. - bff!nishimura riki x reader

summary : riki's always wanted to make out with you, or maybe he just wants to makeout with everyone. after becomimg tipsy at a party, you quickly give in to his desires.

a/n : happy 1year to my blog!! to all my viewers&followers, enjoy this quick riki drabble. love you all, mwa mwa. also- didn't mean for this to get so long.

genre : fluff

warnings : making out, a lil blood, whore calling

wordcount : 970

you somehow ended up at one of the typical frat parties of your college. the host, aka jake sim, was lying on the couch with heeseung and sunghoon next to him, drinking their beers.

they notice you and give you a lazy smirk, jake gettong up to greet you. "hey pretty. where's your escort?" you smile at him, sighing.

"no escort tonight. just waiting for riki to meet up with me." he gives you a sloppy nod, pointing to the kitchen. "think i saw him in there with eun-yoo, pretty. not sure if you wanna interrupt them."

you roll your eyes, knowing what he's indicating. "it's fine, thanks jake. see you around." you walk to the kitchen after smiling at the trio, saying your goodbyes to them quickly.

your e/c eyes look around the messy and crowded kitchen, looking for your best friend, only to spot him making out with the said eun-yoo against the fridge.

sighing in annoyance, you grab a drink, pouring some vodka and mixer into a cup and sipping it before walking up to the pair. "hey eun-yoo, riki. busy?" the two of them break apart, slightly panting. riki smirks at you, pulling away from her fully as she just waves at you quietly.

"you made it. thought you got lost again." he hugs you, pulling you in by your waist and letting his hands rest on your hips before pulling away.

"don't be a dickhead. i only got lost once." rolling your eyes, you smack his chest and cross your arms. "are you gonna hangout with me or do you need some more kissing in your system to properly function?" riki groans at you, muttering a goodbye to eun-yoo and dragging you away as you sip your drink.

you two arrive upstairs, most likely in jake's room. "the hell are we doing here? you got games on your phone?" snickering to yourself, you sit down on riki's lap as he sits down on the bed.

"no games on my phone, y/n. just exhausted." he lays his head on your shoulder, watching you swirl your drink around in the red plastic cup. after a moment of silence, you speak up.

"you know you can't just kiss every girl you feel like kissing, right? you're gonna end up hurting someone, or yourself." he sighs, rubbing his face into your neck from behind.

"they know im not looking for anything serious, plus who cares if i kiss every girl i land my eyes on?"you finish your drink and lean against him to relax. "i know i know.. it's just the principal of the whole situation."

riki rolls his eyes, annoyed at your nice personality. "hey.. why don't you wanna makeout with me?" he looks at you, expecting an answer. "cause im your best friend and god knows where your mouth has been. your lips probably have an std from the amount of lips they kissed."

he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close. "you're a real pain in the ass, yk that? im a great kisser- and i know you've never made out with someone before."

he feels you tense up at his words, so he tightens his grip around you. "are you that much of a manwhore that you'd ask your bestfriend to make out with you?" you slightly turn your head to meet his gaze, his eyes boring into yours.

"maybe. is that a yes?" he smirks, tracing patterns with his thumb on your waist. "what would i get out of it? a cold sore? seeing how jake reacts to them, i'd rather not." riki rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"just say yes. it's not that deep, it's just kissing." you sigh dramatically, but agree. "fine, ill make out with you. only cause.. uh.." he snickers, tapping your thighs so you get off his lap. "cat got your tongue? 'ts all in good fun, doll."

you raise your eyebrow at the petname. "doll? which number doll am i?" he smirks, pushing you against the wall. "number 73." playfully pouting, you look up at him. "what a ugly number. id rather be something pretty, like 95."

he rolls his eyes, leaning down to kiss you softly. you kiss him back, placing your hands on his cheeks to tug him closer. his hands find your waist, keeping you close to him. his lips attack yours hungrily, begging for more.

"mm-" you let out a surprised whimper when his teeth bite down on your lip, shutting your eyes closed as you feel blood slightly come out. riki keeps making out with you, licking the blood of your lips, only to shove his tongue into your mouth.

you gotta admit, he is good at making out. no wonder every girl wants to kiss him.

your lips collide again and again until you pull away, needy to breathe. he snickers, finding your lack of oxygen amusing.

"so? how you liking my lips, doll?" ".. do you use lipbalm?" your question catches him off guard, his expression faltering. "sometimes, why? you like it? cherry flavoured."

you tug him closer, a smirk on your face for the first time tonight. "can't tell, let me have a taste again?" he gladly obligates, kissing you passionately and pressing you against the wall.

after spending the next 20 minutes making out, you both decide that's enough. walking back down stairs to the loud party like nothing happened, making sure to cover up the hickeys on your collar bones as you make your way back to jake, heeseung and sunghoon, riki finding his own friends.

jake looks up at you with hooded eyes and a lazy smile, obviously more drunk than when you last saw him an hour ago. "hey pretty. where were you?" sitting yourself down between hee and jake, you smile.

"eating some cherries."

[growth-opportunities]

A woman tried taking pills to grow her breasts just a small and reasonable amount, but immediately became hopelessly addicted.

Okay, so, you know how some people have not-so-great coping mechanisms? I mean, we all know that smoking is bad for us, and yet some people, not me, but some people need a cigarette or two to make it through a bad day and another to relax after making it through. And then you have the barflies who stop for a few beers every day after work "just to relax" and then we let those guys drive home! All I'm saying is that everyone has different ways of coping with stress, so I really don't need judgement just because my vice of choice is growth pills.

In my defense, they were advertised as temporary! One pill was supposed to grant three cup sizes for a few hours and then they'd go back down again. If Bobby Barstool can get drunk for a few hours and then go about his life, then why can't I have a few hours of fun for myself? The first time I did it, I only took one. And god it felt good. I forgot to take my bra off (I guess I really didn't think that they would work) and so watching my tits grow and bulge out of them was... fuck. Words fail me, is the point. The eroticism of that alone was intense but the increased sensitivity really sold me on it. I barely noticed the time passing, very nearly getting used to them at that size before they shrank away, leaving me with my modest but respectable C cups.

And it went like that for a while. Got home from work, shed my work clothes, popped a pill, blissed out for a few hours, and then made dinner. Occasionally, I'd take one before a night out on the town, but their sensitivity made it a lot more tempting just to stay home and play with them. It was a simple routine.

But, y'know, it's one of those slippery slope things. I had one really, really bad day, so I said fuck it and I took two pills instead of one. J cups, man. Instant J cups. And from there it was easy to go up to three pills, then four pills. It was incredible. They lasted a little bit longer when I took more of them, but it was safe, reliable, and the pleasure was only slightly addicting.

Well, maybe not entirely safe.

So, it would seem that I didn't always go back to my normal size when the pills wore off. Not completely. I wound up being a little bit bigger. Taking one pill at a time, the effect was barely noticeable, easily chalked up to a bit of swelling. But the longer it went on and the more pills I took, the more obvious it became. The crazy thing was that, even though I was actively, legitimately growing, not just temporarily, they still felt small! Coming down from a P cup to a D cup was still a big drop and so it was hard to gauge just how fast I was growing. And I tried to stop or just slow down, but, fuck, sometimes you just gotta take the edge off by turning yourself into a fat-titted cow, drooling over your own cleavage while you pinch your nipples and moan like a whore. And even though I told myself that it was only a little bit of growth here or there, given enough time, it starts to add up. And the bigger I got, the less difference three cup sizes made, so I had to keep taking more which just made me grow faster and it fed on itself until, well, I don't even think there are cup sizes when you're this big.

Oh, gosh, sorry, I get a little rambly. I know you've probably got to take other calls. Anyway, all of that is to say are you sure your company can't make me a compression bra for a bust measurement over 100 inches? ...Hello?

[shaunamilfman]

can't wait for love (to destroy us) [1]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader x Shauna Shipman summary: What should you do when you're stuck in the middle of a fight between your friends? Definitely not whatever you're doing. Maybe your friends are using you to make the other jealous. So what? note: MDNI. masterlist

You took another sip, cautiously slow–hoping that if you managed to keep your mouth full long enough, neither of them would ask you your opinion. You could tell they wanted to drag you in. Both glancing at you out of the corner of their eyes whenever they made a particularly good point. Jackie would roll her eyes, and Shauna would huff, but neither had called you out on it yet.

This strategy isn't going to work forever. Not because you've suddenly found the courage to end it, but because you're almost out of beer–a fact you're suddenly faced with as your next sip is met with only air. You peer down into the cup with a despondent expression, the few drops pooling around the bottom mocking your efforts to stay neutral. There was no escaping now, even as you tried to swirl the cup to get one last sip out of it. Shauna's quick to jump on your moment of weakness, eyes narrowing on the now-empty cup. 

“Right?” Shauna prompts, her voice expectant as she locks eyes with you in search of support. The words hang in the air like a demand, not a request.

Your eyes widen in panic, glancing back and forth between them for an escape route. The irritated look she was sending Jackie softened as she looked over at you, but you still feared having the full force of that glare turned on you. It’s obvious her frustration is only paused, ready to redirect towards you at any sign of weakness.

God knows you didn't have the same guaranteed protection from it that Jackie did. With Jackie? There’s history. Messy at times, but undeniably deep. You’re not so lucky.

“Uh…” You begin, feeling like you’re swallowing sand. Both sets of eyes burn into you, waiting. You try to find some neutral ground–something you can say that won't set the other off on you. The only thing worse than being stuck in the middle is choosing sides. You learned quickly that it was a fast track to both of them being pissed at you if you did anything other than placate them.

Jackie looks at you in concern as she takes in the sight of your fidgeting hands, twitching with the anxiety you’re trying so hard to hide. She reaches out and puts a hand on your wrist, a subtle comfort at your obvious distress. You'd think it was sweet if you hadn't caught the way her eyes flicked toward Shauna to see if she was watching first. The realization that it was as much for Shauna’s detriment as it was for your benefit was a bitter pill to swallow, but you find comfort in it anyhow.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, about to answer–something vague and noncommittal–before Shauna reaches out and grabs your other wrist. It was more an imitation of Jackie than any genuine desire to comfort you, as the firmness of the grip would tell you. An attempt to claim ownership over you, as if you were a prize to be won. You were embarrassingly flattered, no matter how much you told yourself to be upset. There’s something intoxicating about being the center of their attention, even if for the wrong reasons.

Jackie's mouth formed a disapproving frown at the action, her grip tightening subtly. Shauna, on the other hand, looked unfazed. She didn't even look directly at Jackie, giving you her full attention. Jackie's thumb rubbed gently against your wrist, trying to soothe you as you started looking visibly stressed. 

“So?” Shauna prompted, looking at you imploringly. 

You think suddenly of fogged windows, the heavy condensation from each ragged breath hiding you away from the outside world. You remember the way her nails dug into your shoulders and the sharp sting of them as she raked them across your skin. The way she straddled you, rocking the whole car with the force of her hips as she rode your fingers. She clung to you like you were the only thing grounding her in that moment. Her breath was always hot against your neck; quiet gasps let out against your ear as she buried her head in your shoulder. You can still feel her sharp teeth and the way she bit into your shoulder, marking you with a mouth that left bruises across your collar. 

A whiny “Don't rush her,” coming from Jackie's direction, pulls you out of your memories, forcing you to snap back to the present. She sounds defensive, just as much about protecting you as it is about staking her own claim. The memories fade from your mind as you turn toward Jackie. You pull your jacket–Shauna’s jacket–tighter around your shoulders like a shield, hoping it’ll somehow protect you from the ramifications of this conversation. Jackie’s eyes narrow in on the movement immediately, and Shauna looks immeasurably smug.

Shauna’s eyes are still on you, waiting for an answer to her unspoken question: Do you still belong to her? She wants to know if you’re still with her. As much as you try to focus on her, you find your thoughts betraying you once again.

Flashes of Jackie’s delicate fingers curling in your hair fill your mind, soft hands tugging with a desperation that inspires devotion. You can almost feel the way her thighs would clench around your head, a demand for more of your attention even as she struggled to voice it. Desperate little noises that always turn into something suspiciously like a whimper. The taste of her skin beneath your lips, the smell of her favorite perfume as you mouthed at her neck. A hand thumping against the bed as she tries to keep herself quiet, trembling with the effort of it, so embarrassed at the thought of being caught like that. The hickeys that get left politely beneath where your shirt would cover, hidden away like a secret. But when she was feeling particularly bold, she’d leave them atop already bruised skin, deepening the ones Shauna’s scattered across you.

“What do I think?” You ask slowly, hoping your voice isn't as shaky as it sounds in your head. You have their full attention now, you can tell. That's a rare thing: even when they're using you against each other, they're still paying more attention to each other. It's a heady feeling that you quickly put an end to as you continue. “I think I should get us more drinks.” 

And run away. 

Like an adult. 

…

You weren’t sure what had started the fight or if it even mattered at this point. The specifics had become irrelevant, as the back-and-forths spiraled it into something much more dramatic than whatever had started it.

It was probably Shauna’s fault, you were willing to guess–she had a knack for that sort of thing–but you didn’t know for certain. No matter what they said about each other, they weren’t willing to tell you what exactly they were arguing about. They always kept it vague, details kept between them and shared only through glares and pointed comments. You’d been through this enough times to know better than to pry, but this was starting to go on far too long.

It’s so damn frustrating, and yet completely expected at the same time.

It wasn’t presumptuous of you to say you were Jackie and Shauna’s closest friend. It is to say, Jackie-and-Shauna’s closest friend. The distinction wasn’t lost on you. You hold no delusions about even measuring up to the other–they’ve been a package deal just as far back as you can remember. But out of everyone else in the world, you can’t say they’ve even given anyone else the time of day. 

It was a point of pride, as silly as that sometimes makes you feel. But it means you often end up playing mediator. You couldn’t help but take some level of satisfaction in how much they leaned on you, how much they wanted you to be on their side. Maybe you could have even done a good job of it if you were ever given the chance. No, they were much more interested in fighting over you. Mostly just through you. 

Which brings you to–

“No, she wants to go to the mall with me on Saturday. She doesn’t even like that movie!” Jackie insists voice sharp with unearned conviction, as she tugs on your wrist to pull you closer to her. It’s an oddly possessive gesture, which isn’t lost on you. Neither is the way she’s looking at Shauna, as if daring her to contradict her.

“No,” Shauna says stiffly, her irritation obvious. She squares her shoulders, refusing to back down. She’s never seen a fight she isn’t determined to win. “We just watched the first one last month. Tell her.” Her voice drops a notch, low and insistent, as she turns the brunt of her attention on you. A demand for your loyalty that you reluctantly concede to.

Jackie looks over at you expectantly, her eyes wide and pleading. She nearly stomps her foot on the ground when you nod in confirmation, catching herself at the last moment. She groans, running her hand through her hair in frustration, the strands slipping easily through her fingers as she struggles to control her emotions. There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes, quickly hidden as she crosses her arms over his chest.

It twists something in your chest, an ache that you jump to soothe. “We can go earlier. The movie doesn’t start till 4, right?”

“We were going to rewatch the first one, remember?” Shauna’s voice was clipped, patience wearing thin. Great, now Shauna’s annoyed with you too. She crosses her arms, mirroring Jackie’s defensiveness.

“Sunday, then?” You offer desperately, your voice betraying your rising panic. Jackie looks between you and Shauna, frustration evident in the set of her jaw, before giving a reluctant nod. This clearly wasn’t how she was expecting this interaction to go.

You either, as you were desperately counting on this weekend to study for your exam on Monday. Looks like that plan was out the window as well. 

Shauna, on the other hand, seems to consider it for a moment. Weighing her options with narrowed eyes, comparing it to whatever invisible scoreboard she’s keeping in her mind. Though, now that you think about it. There might be an actual scoreboard in her journal. Eventually she gives a curt nod, but you can tell it isn’t over. It’s not a full victory this way.

“I forgot something in your car,” Jackie says suddenly, giving you an expectant look. Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“I didn’t drive here–”

“Now.” 

Well then.

…

Your car is parked in some forgotten corner of the parking garage nearest to your dorm. Still close enough that it was technically quicker to get to your car than your dorm, but not quick enough to justify Jackie choosing it when your roommate wasn't even home. You'd tried to point this out as Jackie dragged you by the hand across the garage, but she'd just given you that look–the shut up and just do what I say look. 

It was one of your favorites. 

It's quiet besides the occasional squeak of the seat beneath the two of you or the steps of those aimlessly walking to their car on the floor below yours. Jackie seems to notice neither, her voice half-whisper and half-complaint as she looms large above you. 

“She’s just so–” a kiss pressed against your jaw, “–so frustrating–” teeth nipping at your skin, lingering near your ear. You're not sure if Jackie's trying to make her point or just trying to make you lose focus. Knowing her, probably both. 

“She knows what she's doing,” Jackie continues, fully committed to her one-sided argument. Her hands grip your shoulders possessively, like Shauna might pop out of nowhere–the glove box, maybe–and take you right out from under her. Her eyes dart toward the front seat again, like she's genuinely checking. “That little look, like she thinks she's already won, and then–”

“Jackie,” You try again, breathless from the feeling of her lips against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving her more room to work with while also making sure you don't have to look her in the eyes as you continue. “She barely–”

“Don't,” Jackie starts, biting at your collarbone in retribution. It's not painful, God knows Shauna's bit you harder for lesser crimes, but it's enough to make your words falter and die in your throat. Exactly what Jackie wanted. “Take her side.” Her voice is low, dangerous, like she's taking this as a declaration of war. Only Jackie Taylor could be this damn dramatic. 

It's hard not to think of earlier, the study session in the library that never was. It was stupid of you to allow Shauna to convince you to go to the library closest to her and Jackie's dorm. There were plenty of other libraries on campus that wouldn’t have spelled your doom, but she’d even thrown in a “please?” on the phone as she asked. That should have been your first clue that she was up to no good. Shauna never said please, but that’s what made it impossible to say no to her.

You should've known that Jackie would find a way to tag along once she saw the two of you together on her way to the dining hall. Her bag had hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thump as she stormed over–you hadn’t realized she’d even carried anything in that bag, always making you carry her textbooks for her. She’d sat down with a terse smile on her face, already looking like she was prepared for war.

Shauna had teased her all night, in that knowing way that only a best friend could. It drove Jackie up the wall even at the best of times, and tonight was no different. There you were again, stuck in the middle of it–quite literally, this time. The two of them had taken the seats on either side of you, both refusing to be the one sitting across from you at the small table in the corner of the library. They wouldn’t even speak to each other except through you, a fucked-up game of telephone that made you want to tear your hair out in frustration.

You thought Jackie was going to die on the spot as Shauna’s hand started creeping up your leg, only ever when Jackie was talking to you. It was subtle at first, enough that you hadn’t even noticed, but it quickly became obvious to both you and Jackie what she was doing. Jackie was visibly flustered by the whole thing, eyes narrowed and cheeks darkening as her eyes kept glancing down at your lap. Though, all the while, she refused to verbally acknowledge it. Her own little form of revenge, as the lack of acknowledgment frustrated Shauna enough that her fingers started to press almost painfully into your skin.

Then, as Shauna mentioned how much fun she had with you last weekend in your car, you thought you were going to die on the spot. That little grin on Shauna’s face as she said it, the way her lips curled up at the corners as Jackie bristled, would be enough to have you trying to drag her to the nearest exit at the best of times. Your pulse had raced at the reminder, cheeks flushing as you shifted inconspicuously in your chair. Jackie had not graciously accepted that defeat in any sense of the word. 

Then came the argument about your weekend plans, leaving you almost helpless as they volleyed arguments back and forth. You hadn’t planned on going home with Jackie today, but you certainly wouldn’t be making any complaints.

“She's just mad I'm winning,” Jackie says confidently, placing an almost apologetic kiss against the reddened flesh of your collarbone. She cups the side of your face, looking you directly in the eye as if daring you to disagree. You wouldn’t call what she did back there winning, but you certainly weren’t going to point that out. The intoxicating scent of her perfume in the cramped backseat of your car makes it hard to focus on anything else.

“You can't win an argument,” You point out with no real conviction. You can’t bring yourself to care, but you know Jackie’s expecting some sort of back and forth here. The quicker you can get the conversation over with, the quicker you can get beneath that skirt she's been teasing you with all day. 

“Maybe you can't,” Jackie says smugly.  “But I can. And I am.” 

You don't point out that it's probably less of her winning the argument and more of Shauna just getting so mad that she storms off. Shauna’s temper was nothing less than legendary, and you certainly wouldn’t want to be on the other side of her anger. Jackie never seems to mind, though.

“Sure, Jackie.” 

“Don't patronize me.” She taps her finger warningly against your forehead. 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” You lift your arms up in surrender, palms facing toward her. She traces a fingertip up your arm, entangling your fingers together as she brings your hands down between you. 

“But you dream of me, right?”

“Every night, and twice on Sundays.” You squeeze her hand lightly for emphasis. 

Jackie rolls her eyes pointedly but still looks embarrassingly pleased at the words. “Loser,” She mutters, taking your hand and starting to guide it up her shirt. 

“You know what's worse than being a loser?”

Jackie shakes her head wordlessly, muscles contracting beneath the cold touch of your fingers as you skim your hands up her sides, taking the hem of her shirt up with them. Her lips part like she's about to say something teasing, but she just lets out the slightest gasp as you graze her bra. 

“Letting a loser fuck you.” 

Jackie scoffs, but there's no real bite to it. “Shut up,” She mutters, cheeks flushed as she closes her eyes for a moment before looking back at you. 

Her skin prickles with goosebumps as she raises her arms over her head, shivering as the cold air brushes against her bare shoulders as you toss her shirt somewhere behind her. She shivers again as your eyes trail slowly across her chest, but the slight hitch in her breath tells you it’s not entirely from the cold this time. Jackie impatiently grabs your hands, bringing them back to her hips with a grumbled complaint.

“Hurry up,” She complains, moving to cover her chest with her hands only to roll her eyes as you quickly smack them away. Her bra was doing little to shield herself from your attention–thin, lacey, and utterly immodest. Did she wear it for you, or did she hope for Shauna to see it?

“Can’t you ever be patient?” You ask dryly, hands settling back on her waist as you press a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

“You’re so annoying,” She mumbles, hands sliding up to grip at your hair as you trail your way down the line of her throat. Jackie lets out a breathy little gasp as you slide your hand down her leg, fingers curling over the hem of her skirt as you start to push it upward.

You're startled apart by a sharp rapping of knuckles against the window. You tilt your head back to see a familiar flannel waiting just outside the door to your back seat. Jackie glares over your shoulder, her jaw stiff as she looks right on past you. You roll your eyes, leaning forward so that you can open the door behind you. Jackie lets out a sharp noise of protest but makes no other move to stop you as you unlock the door. 

“Can we help you?” Jackie asks irritatedly, not bothering to hide her mused hair and heavy breathing. You can feel Jackie shifting in your lap, just enough to be intentional at the sight of Shauna. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, a sight that catches both you and Shauna for a moment before Shauna shakes it off like nothing happened.

Shauna pulls the door open the rest of the way before you can, holding out your textbook lazily in one hand. She leans down, her expression perfectly neutral except for the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. If you didn't know her as well as you did, you'd probably have missed it. Jackie's huff tells you she caught it as well–though, was that ever truly in doubt? 

“You forgot this,” Shauna says, purposely letting her fingers brush against yours as you take it from her hands. She trails her fingers up your wrist for a moment, just long enough for Jackie to get a good hard look at it from her place in your lap, before stepping back. 

“Thanks,” You say stupidly, blindly dropping it into the front passenger seat. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Shauna grins. “Don't mention–” She trails off as Jackie shifts around, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she turns your attention back toward her. 

“... It.” Shauna finishes lamely. 

“She won't,” Jackie says, sickly sweet. “Close the door, would you?”

Shauna gapes wordlessly at the two of you for a moment before finally slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, shaking the car with the effort of it. The thud of the door reverberates through the car as the sound of Shauna’s footsteps almost stomp away. 

Jackie lets out a satisfied hum, momentarily enjoying the win before her grip tightens on your neck. She looks like she’s a split second from throwing both you and the book out of the car entirely, eyes narrowed as she stares at Shauna until she disappears from view.

“I can’t believe she would try something like that,” Jackie mutters.

Jackie makes the whole situation out to be a real hardship–like Shauna’s derailed her plans for the evening. Graciously, you choose not to point out that Jackie had started rocking her hips down against your thigh the second she caught a glimpse of Shauna, a whine leaving her lips at just the thought of Shauna watching her get off on your thigh. Interestingly, Shauna hadn’t called her out on it either.

A part of you wishes they would just hurry up and get over whatever they started arguing about in the first place, but an even larger part of you is content to let this continue. It’s not like sleeping with either of them is new, but the intensity they’ve been going at you the last few weeks is nothing short of life changing. If this is the way they want to work out their argument–competing for your attention in a way you probably shouldn’t be allowing–then that’s their business.

“Jackie, maybe we should–” 

“Come on,” She whines. Her eyes are blown wide as she looks at you, her expression caught somewhere between desperation and frustration. You do so love when she gets like this. “You said you were going to fuck me.”

The words are blunt, so much less subtle than Jackie's usual choice of cloying glances and teasing words. She only ever gets like this when Shauna is involved. It should make you jealous, should make you want to storm off in a huff, but all it really does is make your mind up for you. 

“Don't make me ask again,” She says, a command that almost borders on a plea. 

Jackie, as if sensing your resistance breaking, grabs your wrist firmly and guides it upward. Your breath catches in your throat as her skirt rides up, fabric pooling around your wrist and revealing more of her skin with every moment. As your knuckles brush against the smooth skin of her inner thighs, Jackie just sighs, her hand leaving yours to rest her arms on your shoulder as she widens her stance to accommodate your hand. 

“I knew you'd come around,” She whispers, voice low and smug. Jackie's trying to tease you, like she so often does, but the way her thighs tremble ever so slightly as you palm her betrays her attention. 

She whines, hips pressing forward instinctively into the touch as she digs her nails into your shoulders. She's so warm and wet, even through the thin fabric of her panties. The fabric clings to her, leaving little to the imagination. You almost want to tease her back, ask her what–or who's–gotten her so worked up, but the noise she lets out as you pull her panties off to the side is so pathetic you don't even bother. You press forward slowly, watching her expression closely as you work two fingers inside her. 

“Jackie,” You murmur, your free hand coming up to her waist to steady her as she rocks onto your hand. She’s trying to find her own rhythm, utterly desperate and only adding to her own frustration. Your grip on her hip becomes firmer as you guide her into something she can maintain, setting a pace that leaves her gasping.

“God,” Jackie says, almost reverent as her head falls against your shoulder to bury her face into your neck. She clutches at your back, trying to pull you closer just as much as she claws at anything she can reach. You can hear her hitched breaths and quiet gasps against your ear as she tries and fails to keep herself quiet, uncomfortably aware of the chance of discovery.

“Good?” You ask, already expecting the answer. You just like hearing her say it.

“Don’t sound so smug…” She mutters, the words trailing off into a moan as you curl your fingers, just the way she likes. 

“Fine,” Jackie gasps, her hand fisting in your shirt. “Good–so good.”

You shush her, pressing a kiss against the side of her head as she bites at your shoulder in retaliation. “You’re going to get us caught,” You chide, hiding a laugh at her frustrated protests.

“You asked me to–God, shut up.”

You do laugh this time, letting Jackie kiss you to shut you up. It's messy, a rushed attempt to keep you from drawing attention to her. Her lips part against yours, teeth clashing and so uncoordinated, but so fucking perfect. Your arm burns, wrist aching from the angle, but you can't bring yourself to pay it any mind as Jackie's whine is muffled against your lips every time you grind your palm up against her clit. Not with Jackie like this–not with the way her thighs tremble as she chases the friction of your palm. 

The car feels impossibly small with Jackie pressed so tightly against you, barely giving you enough room to move your hand as Jackie comes with a choked sob, hips stuttering and nails digging into whatever she can reach.

[lixiesfreckless]

Into It | b. c.

➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.

➸ starring: bang chan x female reader

➸ word count: 3k

➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk

➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-

♫ into it- chase atlantic

Far away.

You feel like your mind is so far away.

The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle. 

Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot. 

This is as close as you can get to bliss.

Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?

The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.

“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.

The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.

“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.

“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.

“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.

You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.

But how could you not when he was so…Chan?

He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.

And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.

And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.

“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.

“Nope. Just need to stretch.”

You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.

This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.

And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.

Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you. 

It might just be the alcohol though.

You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-

“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.

“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”

“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.” 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”

“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”

Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth. 

“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.

…What? 

The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.

“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.

“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”

Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.

“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.

You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.

“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”

“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.

And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.

If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.

“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.

He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure. 

He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.

How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation? 

Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.

“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.

“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”

He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.

“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.

He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.

His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.

You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.

Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”

He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.

He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.

Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.

“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.

The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.

There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.

But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.

The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.

His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.

And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.

You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.

“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”

You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.

Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.

Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.

The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.

“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you. 

“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.

Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.

“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.

The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer. 

But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.

He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.

He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.

“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”

“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”

“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him. 

He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.

“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”

[vitalverstappen]

House Rules - C. Sainz

summary: everyone knew you loved halloween, but no one knew just how much.

pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n

word count: 1.4k

a/n: literally got this idea while driving home from work today and scrambled to write it to get something out for you guys for halloween!

masterlist

It was well known that Carlos was a partier. Even if he was nowhere near the podium, you knew he was going to find his way to a local club. His energy was infectious, and his love for staying out till dawn was a constant in his life. 

You, on the other hand, adored Halloween. The scary movies, the candy, the pumpkin carving - everything about it filled you with joy. It was your favorite time of year, beating out the other holidays by a long shot. There was something magical about the crisp autumn air, the thrill of ghost stories, and the excitement of choosing a costume. 

So, it was a no-brainer to combine the two this year and host a Halloween party for the grid. As the day approached, you decorated your house with cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns, and the occasional fake body part. A photo booth was set up in one of the guest rooms, filled with props and eerie backdrops. 

Meanwhile, Carlos put himself in charge of making all of the treats, knowing you’d burn the place down if you tried. His famous witches brew was the center of it all though - a giant smoking cauldron, filled with most likely dangerous levels of alcohol and mixers.  

The costume you two landed on was Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. It was safe enough for when the little kids came by trick-or-treating, but easy to spice up for later in the night.

As the night kicked off, the house buzzed with excitement. Friends arrived in droves, dressed in a mix of costumes - from witches, to pop culture icons, to inside jokes you would never understand. 

You and Carlos found yourselves at the beer pong table. Lando and his girlfriend had been running the table all night, and it was your turn to challenge them.

“Ready to lose?” Lando taunted, flashing a cocky grin

“Yeah, sure” Carlos said, rolling his eyes with a smirk

While Lando and his girlfriend were good, Carlos quickly fell into a rhythm. With each flick of his wrist, the ball sank into a new cup, and you could see the confidence grow in him. You were terrible, missing just about every shot you took. 

“Here, cariño, let me help,” Carlos said, leaning in closer to show you how to hold the ball properly. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Lando whined from across the table

“House rules” You called back before looking at your boyfriend. “Teach me your ways”

Carlos grinned as he took your hand, adjusting your grip on the sticky ping pong ball. “Just focus on the cup. And remember, it’s all in the wrist.”

With his guidance, you finally managed to land a shot, the ball bouncing into the cup with a satisfying splash. 

“See? You’re a natural” Carlos teased as you felt a rush of unexpected excitement. 

Lando and his girlfriend ended up clawing back for the win, leaving the table to be theirs. You were silently thankful for the loss, as you weren’t sure how many decent shots you had left in you. 

You were already feeling tipsy from the game, but you still found yourself back at the cauldron. There, you found Alexandra and Charles dressed as Ginny and Harry from Harry Potter. 

“Hey! So glad you could make it!” You said as you poured yourself a red solo cup full of Carlos’ concoction, the bright colors swirling both enticingly and as a warning. “How’s it going?” 

“We’re glad we could make it.” Alexandra said. “We’ve been good.” 

“Currently just trying to dodge the beer pong table. I’ve seen Lando running it all night. How did you do?” Charles asked, adjusting his glasses 

“Let’s just say I need more practice.” You said, shaking your head though there was a small smile on your face. “Carlos helped out a lot” 

“Of course he did. He’s a pro at everything” Alexandra laughed, glancing over at Carlos who was too busy trying to convince Pierre to join in playing another round of pong. 

“He’s definitely got the skills.” you replied, taking a sip of the drink, wincing as the drink burned your throat “ But I think I might stick to just munching on the candy.” 

“Speaking of candy, did you guys spike the gummy worms?” Charles asked, raising his eyebrow with a grin 

You nodded, a fresh gleam in your eye “Yeah, you like them?” 

“They’re addicting” Charles said 

As the night continued, the drinks kept flowing, leading to hazy decisions. The apple bobbing station was more packed than you had expected it to be, George currently the one taking his shot. You walked over, curious to see what the excitement was about. 

Standing over George was Alex, egging him on to go faster. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer determination on George’s face as he fought to get the fruit. 

“You’re doing a shit job, mate” Alex said as George gasped for air

“It’s not my fault this thing wasn’t built for tall people in mind!” He complained, water streaming down his face 

“Let me help,” Alex said as he flashed a mischievous grin. He placed his hand on the back of George’s head, shoving it back into the water. 

Moments later, George reemerged, sputtering, laughing through the exasperation. “Dude, what the hell?” he yelled, wiping his face with his hand 

Alex just laughed, clearly enjoying the scene that played out “You have to commit! You won’t get anywhere with that half-hearted effort” 

Every time you refilled your cup, you found yourself reaching a new high. The colors of the party blurred together, creating a dreamy haze. You leaned back against one of the walls, watching the chaos of the party. An arm wrapped around your waist, and without even looking, you knew it was Carlos. 

You leaned into his warmth, feeling a surge of affection. “How’d the second pong game go?” you asked 

Carlos chuckled, the rise and fall of his chest comforting “I managed to convince Pierre and Kika to take over, so it’s going great now” He motioned to the table, where the couple was trying to master the game. 

“Good luck to them, they need it” You chuckled as you turned to face your boyfriend. 

Carlos looked down at you, his soft eyes quickly transitioning to ones full of mischief. “I think we need to shake things up a little and see who can handle the witches brew”

“That sounds so ominous” you laughed “You could’ve just suggested a drinking contest”

The two of you made your way over to the cauldron, a stack of solo cups waiting for you. The neon colors of the liquid glowed ominously in the dim light. You filled two cups up to the brim with the liquid, already dreading your agreement to do this. 

A few of the other drivers and their respective others grabbed cups, quickly piecing together what was about to go down. The ones who didn’t reach for a cup, whipped out their phones to record. 

“Three, two, one - go!” 

You threw your head back, gulping down the sweet yet potent mixture. The crowd cheered, laughter and playful shouts filling the air. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raced to finish your drink. 

Glancing over, you caught sight of Carlos, his focus intense. You could see the competitive spark in his eyes as he downed the cup, the two of you neck-and-neck.

With one final gulp, you slammed your cup down on the ground, throwing your hands up in victory. “Another win” you exclaimed, breathless. 

Carlos, a moment behind, laughed and wrapped his arms around you. “Only because I let you, mi hermosa”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that” you teased, enjoying the moment in Carlos’ arms. 

The party continued, fueled by more drinks and the infectious energy in the room. You danced alongside Carlos, letting the music guide you. 

As the night wore on, you took a moment to step outside on the balcony for some fresh air. The cool autumn breeze kissed your cheeks, and you took a deep breath, savoring the scent of fallen leaves. 

Carlos joined you, slipping his hand into yours as you both leaned against the railing. “What do you think?” he asked, glancing at the party through the window, where you’re pretty sure you saw Toto up on someone’s shoulders.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t want to spend Halloween any other way” you answered

He smiled, his gaze softening “Neither would I” 

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 542,974 more

tagged: carlossainz55, francolapinto

yourusername: first ever sainz-l/n halloween party! thanks to everyone for coming and making the best holiday even better! p.s. williams, franco isn't dead, i just found him sleeping on my stairs

view all comments

user1: I NEEDED A HALLOWEEN WAG! THANK GOD

user2: ikr, all of them go hard for everything else, except the best holiday

francolapinto: why did you take a photo instead of WAKING ME UP AND GETTING ME TO BED??

yourusername: you looked comfy, I didn't want to wake you charles_leclerc: mate i could've shared the bathtub with you user3: hold up, charles was in the BATHTUB??? carlossainz55: someone had one too many spiked gummy worms

landonorris: i still can't believe you cheated at pong. shoulda been DQ'd

carlossainz55: it wasn't cheating, she couldn't land a ball if the cups were the size of a lake yourusername: you guys know I get notifs for you roasting me on my own post, right?

landonorris: yes. carlossainz55: yes.

user4: is that...george? ...bobbing for...apples?

alex_albon: yes. he lost though. george is a loser.

georgerussell63: i would've won if you didn't idk push my head in

alex_albon: still a loser.

[keehomania]

JOHNNY SUH (서영호) — FRIENDS

(DRABBLE) ✧.* MINORS DNI (18+)

JOHNNY SUH was completely, utterly lost. he was lost in it, in you, in the sensation of you. he was lost in the way you milked him dry, giving him the perfect view of your tits bouncing in his face as you pressed your palms against the wall in front of you , leaning forward with your back arched as you met his pace with swift, harsh bounces with a cigarette in your mouth. he was lost in the way you moaned his name, begging him to go harder, faster before whispering sweet nothings into his ear to push him off the edge. “tearing my pussy open, fuck,” you purred, your breath hot against his ear as the tip of your tongue danced alongside his earlobe, voice muffled with the filter between your lips. “fuck me so good, gonna make me squirt all over this dick.”

he was absolutely lost in it, letting himself absorb the sheer filth of it all. he allowed himself those few minutes of escape, of temporary pleasure. his hands groped the flesh of your tits, squeezing the soft skin and probing at your sensitive nipples. his mind was a mess as his hands slid down your waist before stopping at your hips, cupping your ass. he leaned forward to take your tit into his mouth, letting the other one collide with his cheek as he sucked around your nipple. his hands spanked the soft of your ass, his thumb coming down to probe at your tight, sensitive asshole. he’d never fully push it in, he’d just keep it there long enough to hear you moan some more, to feel you clench around nothing but his fingernail.

“you’re so pretty,” the praise would always come through before johnny could stop himself, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste as they passed his lips. he hated himself for speaking his thoughts aloud, even if it wasn’t intentional. he hated himself even more when you didn’t respond, flashing him a mere smile in response. you were too lost in what he had to offer, your cunt clenching around his dick as you leaned forward to press your lips to his. you placed a single kiss to his lips, enough to give him a taste of the smoke. you pulled away to press the filter to his lips, watching with hungry eyes as he took a long drag.

it was his favorite part, kissing you. it felt more intimate than the sex itself. he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, he’d always give in one way or another. his lips clashed with yours, melting against them as he cupped your cheek. he exhaled, blowing the smoke into your mouth as his tongue traced your bottom lip. you kissed him with desire, hunger, all the while he kissed you as if you were fragile, like you were on the verge of breaking. “your dick’s so fucking big, ’m close,” you whined, breaking the kiss to press your forehead against his.

he was just as close, thrusting upwards to match your speed. he practically felt his eyes roll into the back of his head as you tightened around his dick, your thighs slick with your juices and spread to give him the perfect view of your cunt swallowing him whole. you were greedy, but you were tempting, so he let you have him. he wanted more than what you were offering him, but he knew his chances were less than slim. he had broken up with his girlfriend and it left him heartbroken, in need of a distraction to fill the void. after a few bottles of beer and hours of consoling him, you had agreed to numb some of his pain, as friends. you had been fucking constantly, as friends. you were giving him everything he wanted, yet he wanted none of it. he had broken the first rule, and he wanted all of you. he hated himself for ever suggesting the entire ordeal, being friends with benefits. he didn’t want to be your friend, and he didn’t want these benefits anymore. he just wanted you.

“cum inside me,” you exhaled, your hair plastered to your forehead with sweat. you had never looked more tempting, riding his dick with a cigarette limp between your lips, tits shaking with every thrust he had to offer. “know you want to, johnny.” of course he wanted to, who wouldn’t? he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you in once more as his balls slapped against your ass, the angle allowing him to hit all the right spots.

he groaned in your ear, the sound of his raspy voice shooting straight through your core as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. you could practically feel him coming up your ribcage as he held you close, pounding into your pussy with all his might. the cigarette trembled between your fingers and, soon enough, you found yourself tossing it aside, your limbs too numb to hold onto anything but the weight of your lust. at first, you felt bad, knowing you were just using each other. you wanted to be more than his sanctuary, than his friend, but it was too late for that. you forced yourself to comply, and eventually, you let yourself enjoy it.

“i’m gonna—” johnny cut himself off with a grunt, his fingers wrapping around the flesh of your hips as he lifted himself once more, filling your pussy to the brim with a loud moan. he let go, his cock throbbing with your walls clenching around it as he came inside you, shooting thick ropes of sticky white into you. it felt too good, all of it. he loved how warm you were, how tight you felt, how he always felt like he was breaking you with nothing but the size of his cock.

you moaned at the feeling of his hot cum seeping into your cunt, the scent of smoke lingering in his mouth as you kissed him once more. then, you felt yourself fall apart. you came just as hard, your vision going blurry as you clenched around his softening cock, pussy tightening around it as it spasmed some more, as if to tell you that you had milked it dry once again. you fell apart as you leaned back onto your elbows, spreading your legs farther apart to give johnny one last peek. he saw it, the way his cock slipped out of you and pushed against your slit, oozing with cum he didn’t even know he had in him. he watched the way your cunt throbbed, some of his seed spilling out as you did so. his cock felt hot against your naked thigh, threatening to harden a second time.

the opportunity was cut short as you stood up, swinging you bare legs off the bed. “going so fast?” johnny didn’t mean for it to sound as desperate as it did, truly. he watched as you approached your desk, taking another cigarette from the box and pressing it to your lips. you looked too good to be true—your makeup was smeared with tears, your hair slick with sweat, your lips plump and swollen, every curve of your naked body mingling with the light that filtered through the curtains. you turned to face him with a smile, crossing your legs despite being on display for him once more.

“got a date scheduled,” your tone was casual, as if you were oblivious to the ache that flared up in his stomach as your words cut through the silence. you were, in fact, very oblivious. more smoked passed your lips as you flashed him a smile, tucking the filter back into your mouth as you slid your panties back on. “we can go again tonight if i come back.”

if you came back. it was almost like you wanted him to suffer, but you didn't. it was nobody’s fault but his own. the thought of another man having you in any way that came to mind made him sick to his stomach, but there was nothing he could do about it. you were just friends, after all. so, he forced himself to lean back, crossing his arms behind his head as he forced a smile. “i hope you have a great time,” he lied. everything about it was a lie, after all. you smiled, your gaze alive with light as you looked at him like he was all you had. he was. after all, he was your best friend.

✧.*

[sunny-mercya]

Wasted

Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Masterlist

H a v i n g t h e T i m e of my L i f e !

D i g g i n g t h e D a n c i n g Q u e e n

«Where's [Name]?» a question Billy shouldn't have asked Stu—he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyed and a flicker of realisation and panicky fear in them.

«Stu. Where is [Name]?» Billy repeated again, harsher this time, demanding even. Giving his boyfriend a expectantly look, brow raised, a sort of glare it was—the kind of which a parent would give, when they aren't being amused and mildly disappointed with what their child did.

Stu feels like this metaphorical child. His hands getting clammy, eyes darting around from side to side, everywhere and anywhere—even focusing on those, in his humble opinion, absolutely ugly paintings which hung on the walls alongside the staircase, just so he doesn't have to look at Billy and getting this....this look of disappointment from him. Though when Stu accidentally did, he winced visibly.

Now, this was a situation—one of the rare occasional ones—where Billy, who's normally an composed person, was feeling restless and a tiny amount of fear spiking up in him.

This wasn't one of Stu's many parties, where they have established unofficial rules to what was allowed—in drugs and alcoholic beverages wise and where they have control over everything—this was the party of an stranger, a person Sidney (or had it been Tatum or another one of their friends?) was acquainted with, from over next town.

A party, where the two couldn't keep a proper watch over you. Couldn't keep you out of harms way—and it wasn't like, that you neither could hold your own or defend yourself in dire times of need. You're perfectly capable of such things. But, for them, you're their precious little boy—which they just, if they could, would love to lock up and keep safe.

And Stu had one fucking job this night, keeping you near him. Yet in the end, Stu had failed in it, managed to lose you in this crowd.

Billy was craning his neck, straining his muscles and he even could feel a pull at it. Trying to find you in that cramped mass of human strangers. Stu, standing behind Billy on the staircase, being a lot taller then his friend, swirled his head from right to left. He too trying to spot you, your mop of (h/c) hair or the clothes you are wearing. No avail.

An underlaying panic, deep buried in their pits of stomach, sets itself free. Rising up and giving them side stabs. Leaving goosebumps on their skin and a tingle down their spines.

«Fine. We're going search for him together. [Name] can't be that far.» a string of cruses left Billy's mouth afterwards.

~~~

You swayed from side to side, trying to find your way back to the house as you wandered through the backyard, a rather big one with lots greenery, some trees and a stony path. You hoped at least that you were still in the backyard, sight a bit too blurry to tell what all the difference blobs are.

A hiccup here and there left your mouth. Swallowing your own salvia and taking another sip from your cup, drowning the last rest. Wanting the sandy dryness to get away.

A few minutes later and your mouth was dry again. You drunk enough to have your body being hydrated. More limo and soft drink than alcoholic beverages, besides a few shots and one or two cups of beer.

So getting a dry mouth within seconds was a bit weird, so you thought. Did you always had such a excessive sweating? And since when was the night so warm?

You stopped your walking, just standing there wherever that was, because it sure doesn't look like a backyard anymore (and perhaps it never has.)

Taking one step forward, still wanting to continue your way back and in the next moment of seconds, you felt a wave of air around you. Falling and your face hits the asphalt.

The small shock shook your mind awake form the haze. Turning onto your side, you tried to sit up. Needing a few tries before you accomplished it. The few glass shards, which laid around, digging into your palms—leaving bloody cuts.

Huh, funny, the blurry dots which comes flying nearer and nearer, reminded you a bit of your boyfriends—the colours seemed to fit the dots so well.

You snorted loudly at this thought, falling onto your side again. Giggles left your mouth, waving a hand at your dot boyfriends. Dot boyfriends. Another snort.

~~~

It had taken some time till Billy and Stu had found you. First they searched inside the house, checked every room—interrupting a few people by two things; sex and taking a piss. Then they took a look around the backyard and pool area, but nothing.

A few fleeting thoughts, what if imagines came to their minds. Non of them pleasant at all. You could have been kidnapped or you going back all on your own or you even going with someone else.

They came to the same conclusion. You're wandering somewhere on the streets around and on their way out of the house—passing through the mass crowd, bumping shoulders—Billy sneered at Sidney when she gave them a confused questionably glance.

If it weren't for Sidney, this wouldn't even be happening. Not Stu was at fault.

All of this was her fucking fault.

Billy thanked whatever god might be existing above there. They didn't had to ventured through the streets for too long, till they saw you sitting in the middle of the street.

Stu helped you sit upright again, keeping his hands on your shoulders to give you hold.

Billy crouched down in front of you, holding your face into his hands. Scraping the small bits of shards away and drawing circles with his thumbs over your cheeks. You leaned into his touch—a contrast to your warm skin.

«....It's so warm....» you mumbled, blinking owlish at Billy, eyes dropping every so often.

«What happen [Name]?»

Billy watched patiently how you opened your mouth, trying to form words but all it came out was a jumble of unintelligible sounds.

Billy was concerned, even if you were drunk—fully intoxicated—you would still be able to say intelligible words.

Though you didn't look too good either; laboured shallowed breaths, ghostly pale, sweat trickling down your skin, shivering—besides you complaining about the chilly night being way too hot—pupils dilating and your nonchalantly about the cuts.

Noticing the empty cup next to you, Billy had a hunch and hoped he was wrong. The bit of leftover drink in the cup, a slight purple colour with a bitter smell, had proving his hunch correct. Drugs.

Billy narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips into a line. He crushed the cup in his hand, throwing it away. Whoever fucker had done this, they would pay this. Dying a long and painful death.

«You carry him Stu, though lets find the fucker first.»

~~~

«Bills, let us go home. [Nickname] needs to sleep and getting the drugs out his system» Stu whines a bit, adjusting his hold on your thighs again to carry you more evenly on his back. All the while you nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, moaning out complains—with a few giggles and in between incoherently talking of something—how damn hot it was, how thirsty you are and that you want some cuddles.

Stu, to keep you delighted and from falling asleep, nodded and agreed along to whatever you were saying. Giving you seriously meant answers.

Billy let go of Ben's—the asshole who drugged not only you, but also Kelly—shirt collar, leaving him leaning against the wall. Ben snickers, smirking at Billy, practically a invitation of dare.

«Aww, c'mon a bit of drugs hasn't harmed anyone. Don't get yer panties in a twist. Pretty boy is taking well, isn't he?»

A wave of anger took over Billy's face, contouring into a grimace of furiousness. Without wasting another second, Billy punched him across the face. Breaking Bens nose in process, a satisfying crack being heard.

«Try to drug him again Benny boy and I will make sure that your nose isn't the only thing I will break.

~~~

«Ya think some good ol' horror films will help our darling babe to fall asleep faster?»

«No Stu. That wouldn't be such a good idea, not with the intake of drugs. Could mess with his mind.»

Stu laid you down onto the bed, crawling next to you and pulling the covers over you and taking you into his arms. Billy coming back in the room, placing a glass of water and some pills onto the nightstand. Putting a cool washcloth onto your, already burning up, forehead.

Bill sat on the edge of the bed, caressing your cheek, swatting away Stu's hand from himself for a moment. Deciding after all in the end, to lay down next to you too.

Ben would pay for this, Billy having planning the perfect death for him.

Though this could wait for a bit later, after all you're their first priority.

D a n c i n g Q u e e n, f e e l t h e b e a t

D i g g i n g t h e d a n c i n g Q u e e n

[thecapricunt1616]

Papaya (c.b one-shot)

Part one here

Blurb (More BTC!) : He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding.  “Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “ the blue cup means she’s taken”

♡ One-shot inspo: Papaya is associated with femininity & strengthening love connections. Hang twigs of papaya wood over a door to keep out evil. Eat papaya with a loved one to intensify your love. Mix papaya leaves with mandrake and burn or use in the bath to reverse hexes and jinxes. ♡ Summary: You & Carmys first time, F/U to 'Very First Time'♡ W/C: 4.7k ♡ A/N: EEEE It's here! The first was recieved so well, & my sweet @carmenberzattosgf requested a part 2 as well as this sweet anon, so I had to indulge! I hope it is everything you wanted <3 Who's ready for some sexy sexy Carmy tomorrow!? I know I am!!! I can't believe this is my last piece before the drought is over...It has gone so freaking fast!!! I can't wait to meet all the new fans that this season brings <3 :) (P.S. If you were tagged, it's BC you asked for a part 2 or are my moot!! <3) P.S - Tumblr was really trying to get me to commit murder while formatting this JFC ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUT SMUT SMUT, College relationship, childhood best friend trope, virgin!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N (r goes by childhood nickname 'squish' ), Drunk men being pervy, Physical violence, Angry Carmy

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You stumbled into the nearest vacant bathroom (with your drink in hand of course) as Miley Cyrus’ We Can’t Stop bumps through the speakers of the frat house so loudly that the floors shook. 

The amount of stinky sweaty bodies and drunk people making out in various corners of the hallway would usually get to you if you weren’t so out of your mind. You weren’t exactly sure which drink you were on yet, but you did know that when your best friend Paisley had challenged you to a keg standoff and you weren’t a quitter, so you couldn’t count just how many beers you had chugged. 

You tried to count on your fingers as you hovered above the nasty toilet seat to pee just exactly how many red solo cups of mostly liquor with a bit of mixer you had consumed. You were distracted by that nasty toilet seat, wondering how the boys that live here don’t gag whenever they come to pee. You were happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat. You were really happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat, the guys here were assholes. Most of them, anyway. 

You grabbed your blue cup, that insinuated you were taken or dating someone steady, out with you back into the hot sticky living room, to hear someone (probably paisley, it had to have been paisley or one of your other sorority sisters) had requested they play Girls by The 1975, you tried finding her but got distracted by hands on your waist and “I love your shirt” in your ear. It was a voice you didn’t recognize, you could tell the man towered over you by the way he had to hunch over to talk to you. 

Carmy was bigger then you, but not that much bigger, this guy would probably have a head on Carmy. He had grown just like Mike said he would, and it looked amazing on him. Funnily enough though, even though you had been dating since the week you graduated high school - and you were now juniors in college, he still hadn’t slept with you yet. You often after you left his house to head back to your sorority house since they had a curfew, would cry to your sorority about how he still only wants to do oral. 

He didn’t often want blowjobs unless it was a special occasion, he would tell you your hand is fine and you don’t have to do ‘all that’ even though you wanted to- you figured since he was saying that he didn’t want you to. You weren’t aware - but Carmy was kicking himself in the ass every single day that he hasn’t fucked you the way you deserve yet. He was honestly getting worried he was going to lose you to some guy who would. You had asked him, he had told you that he wasn’t ready to go that far with you yet, that he wanted to wait and make it special. 

But in all reality he was terrified out of his mind. He knew he could make you cum with his mouth, but his dick?! He had to dig his nails into his palms until they near drew blood whenever you put your fucking mouth on him, so if you let him fuck your cunt?! He was worried he was going to cum in 3 strokes and you would laugh and break up with him and tell him you were better off best friends and there goes his only friend and the love of his life and the person he wants to marry. But he found himself asking as he fantasized about marrying you how he was supposed to do that if he can’t even find the balls to fuck you right. 

His anxiety was what led him to calling you 3 times tonight, because you were late - and you were never late - because the two of you wanted to spend as much time as possible together since his schedule was so packed between working at the beef and going to classes part time. He was nowhere near graduating, that was because he was stacking his money away in a savings account that gained interest like Uncle Jimmy taught him, so that his graduation present to you could be the Chicago brownstone you both had talked about having together since high school. 

He found it so incredibly sexy and endearing that you put school first in your life, he wanted to reward you for it. He felt you deserved the world and more, since you were his world. Which is why, after the third nervous stuttering voicemail which is how you could tell he was really nervous, had gone unanswered? He opened the find my friends app and grabbed his brothers keys. 

“Mike I’m going…out!” He called and shut the front door before he could get questions about why the hell he of all people would be leaving the house past 10:00 on a Friday night. He anxiously mapped the location on his phone and hopped in the car. When he got there, though- he couldn’t even park near the house. He had to park a block over and walk because it was so packed with cars. He made sure to lock the car in case any drunkards were to try and sleep in it or think it was there’s, and put on the walking directions. 

Carmen had to deal with drunk behavior well - every night, so being with a bunch of drunk people wasn’t his favorite place to be - but for you he persevered, because what the hell were you doing here. 

You, currently, were inside, grinding on the same guy that had come up to you to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. You had finished another drink, and forgotten completely it wasn’t your boyfriend behind you - and didn’t even have the mind to ask yourself what he would be doing there. Said boyfriend was currently pushing his way through the kitchen, and rolling his eyes and the ‘single, taken, DTF’ different colored cups on the counter as he tried to find you. 

He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding. 

“Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “the blue cup means she’s taken” 

He grabbed your arm gently “squish y’wasted. We're going home” he said firmly but not mean, and you stumbled next to him as people move out of the way since the entire room was privy to what just happened. You weren’t sure what happened all you knew was the man was behind you and then he wasn’t and then carmy was punching him and now you were in the car and Carmy was lecturing you about how worried he was. 

“He could have hurt you, angel. Please- I know it’s college and you can do what you want but I love you and those guys are all assholes, they’ll take advantage of nice girls the second they get a chance. And you’re so sweet squish, you’re too sweet. They don’t deserve to have you over” he squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips for what he knew was probably the hundredth time in the 35 minute car ride back to his house. 

You didn’t say much of anything that could make sense, but he agreed with you anyway. “And theee um. The the- what was I saying?” You look over at him at a red light with a drunk smile, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol and cheeks hot with the rush of it in your system. 

“I dunno baby but you look cute” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead gently 

“Your knuckles are bleeding, did you hurt them?” You asked, the events from less than an hour prior already having been wiped from your mind. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head 

“M’fine squish, you need some water” he helped you out of the car, supporting most of your weight as you stumbled up the stairs of the Berzatto house, and he unlocked the door. 

“Ooooo you know what I want?” You asked and he smiled as he locked the door behind him and lead you to the kitchen 

“What’s that honey?” He helps you sit down at the table and grabs a glass, filling it with ice water 

“I want a bear special beef sandwich. Pretty please?” He came over and handed you the glass 

“Drink that and we’ll talk about it” he said and you obediently chugged down the glass as he went back to the fridge and got out the beef they didn’t use today at the restaurant and a pan to heat it in 

“This is good” you said, finishing it off and crunching on a piece of ice to which he cringed 

“Ugh y’teeth babe don’t do that!” He scolded as he always did when you munched on ice, taking it from you and filling it again, adding a straw before giving it back so you were less tempted to repeat your actions

He was cutting up a bell pepper for your sandwich when you asked “why won’t you have sex with me?” Which almost made him slice his finger but thankfully he missed it by a centimeter. 

“Who said I won’t” he looked back at you, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink as he flushed with embarrassment. 

“I dunno. You say you’re waiting but I want to and paisley says maybe you’re shy and if m’drunk maybe you’ll wanna do it more but the problem-“ you’re interrupted with a drunk hiccup “with that is, paisley said you have to be drunk too, and you aren’t.” You slurred, struggling to find your straw again to chug down the other half of your second glass of water. 

He stared at you, unsure of what to say and Mikey comes pounding down the stairs per usual and into the kitchen. A bull in a fucking China shop, just like Richie. “Yooo it’s squishy! Sup girl” he came over, giving you a brotherly push to the back of the head and doing the same to Carmy as he walks by to the fridge 

“Hey! You could have killed me I’m drinking!” You slurred, “but I’m asking Carmy why he won’t h-“

“Heyyyy!!! Hey hey squish no we’re not sharing those things” Carmy cuts you off quickly and looks over, shaking his head 

“She’s fuckin gone” Mike said to himself as he grabbed a can of soda 

“Yeah why do you think I’m fuckin having her eat and drink water?” Carmy quips, putting the beef into the bun he’d toasted and adding extra cheese for you on top how he liked it. 

“Mm. Make sure you have a few vomit bags ready I think the last time she was this wasted was her birthday” he headed back up to his room and Carmy sighed to himself, knowing he was right. 

“Who’s vomiting?” You asked, sipping the last few dribbles of water and he set your sandwich in front of you, taking the cup to fill again and you gasp, having forgotten you even wanted the sandwich “I was just gonna ask you to make me one too!” You said excitedly and took a big bite. 

He came back to the table, setting the filled glass down and sitting in the chair next to you, gently rubbing your back “chew it baby Jesus it’s not goin anywhere” he teased and pushed your hair back over your shoulders. 

“I know- it’s just so good” you mumble with your mouth full and he chuckled, shaking his head and wiping some grease that had dribbled down your chin off with the pad of his thumb, wiping it on a napkin. He didn’t know what came over him, maybe it was the fact that you wouldn’t remember - maybe selfishly it was because he knew you’d be brutally honest, but he asked 

“If we did have sex, and I didn’t last very long- would you be upset that you had to finish with my mouth or fingers instead?” His voice was laced with nervous curiosity, but he had to know this to be able to properly navigate having sex since you had been bringing it up more and more often as of late. 

“What?! Upset? I think I’ll cry with joy that I actually can have your dick in me it doesn’t matter how long” you said casually. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, maybe it was the tone of your voice - like it’s an every day thought for you, like you were aching to have him inside of you. Yeah, that was it. The coolness mixed with desperation, it made his cock stiffen a little more than he figured it should have. 

“Mm.” Was all he said, covering himself with his hand, it wasn’t like you would notice, anyway, but he was still ever so shy about you making him aroused - like he was doing something wrong. Even though you were his girlfriend of 3 years and you said I love you multiple times a day to each other. 

While he was helping you shower, and then helping you dress for bed, that was when it hit him. This weekend, his mom would be out of town for some work thing he didn’t care to know the details of, and Mike goes to the casino every Friday and stays out practically until 5 am. He would have the house to himself, and it would be the perfect time to finally have sex. 

He was mapping out in his mind the most romantic way to do it, flowers, candles, music? He told himself he had to do it right and make it a night to remember for the both of you. He had to cook for you - he figured he would make your favorite penne à la vodka, and he wouldn’t tell you about doing it just in case he bitches out. But the amount of thought he was putting into this, if he bitched out he was gonna be extraordinarily angry with himself. 

Your voice pulled him out of his head as if always did “bear” you said sleepily 

“Sup bug” he kissed your head tenderly and rubbed your arm as you nuzzled into his side. 

“Can you turn the tv down m’tired” you mumble into his shirt and he took the remote, turning it off. 

“Love you baby, g’night” he resumed rubbing over your hip as he got lost in his thoughts once again. 

 When the day came, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t bitch out. He thought about it 5 times that day and convinced himself not to, but now, now that you were sat at the table with him, a candle between you, giggling about how ‘romantic’ he had been acting tonight - he felt like a total fucking idiot. 

“I’m sorry, fuck- do you not like it? I read one of sugars magazines she left behind before she moved - they said girls like candles and music” he pushed it to the side and you shook your head, moving it back 

“I love it, bear. I’m just wondering why you’re treating me so special tonight is all, I’d have been a lot more dressed up and pretty if you’d have-“ he cuts you off

“You’re fuckin- y’perfect, squish. I love you, that’s why I’m doin it. I just wanna show you how much” he held your hand and squeezed it gently “you mean everything t’me. Really” he said and kissed your knuckles gently. 

When you made it to his bedroom, you realized he’d hung romantic little white string lights along his headboard to provide more ambient lighting, and that’s when it clicked what was happening. Your heart raced in your chest like a hummingbird trapped in a cage as his hands roam your body. 

You were sprawled out beneath him, both of you down to your underwear, the feeling of his lips nipping, and licking, and biting yours was enough to make you wet, but when his broad hands started palming your tits, his thumbs and forefingers massaging your nipples, you had to squeeze your thighs together to provide your throbbing clit some pressure. You were mewling and whining beneath him, he was panting and grunting into your mouth, your noses bumping with each unexpected kiss. 

“Carmy” you whine into his mouth, reaching to pull one of your hands off of your breast and he pulled away just enough to speak, lapis eyes boring into yours that were no doubt lust blown. 

“Y’good?” He asked gently, kissing the corner of your mouth chastely and eased his grip on your breasts. You moved the hand you were holding down, down, down, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your panties 

“I want you to touch me here…please” you said softly and hook your arm around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his sandy blond curls as you pull him back for a kiss his breath hitched slightly at the action, his cock twitching at your words which you felt against your thigh, causing you to smile a bit. He cupped your heat with his hand for a moment, causing you to grind onto it needily and he sucked on your bottom lip as he spread your lips to slip his middle finger over your sticky soaked hole, teasing it gently before trailing it up to find the throbbing erect bud. 

You gasped lightly at the contact, back arching a bit and moaning shamelessly, your voice coming out high pitched and whiny “oh yes” you said as he rubbed the pad of his finger back and forth and in circles, alternating between the two in such a way that was making your stomach tighten and thighs shiver. 

“Yeah?” He kissed your jaw “feels good mm? Sound so pretty, princess” he said hotly in your ear, gently nipping at your neck in the way that drove you wild. 

“So good you make me feel so good” you mewl as he moved his finger down again, thrusting it in and out as he does that beckoning motion with the finger and he gently rubbed your clit with his other hand. You sob in pleasure, fisting the sheets with one hand and tugging Carmys hair with the other. 

“Good girl tha’s a good girl” his husky voice and hot breath made you shiver even though with how close your orgasm was- you felt oh so hot. You felt him lick your sternum where he had watched a bead of sweat trailing down and that caused your eyes to open once more, to see his staring back like a round eyed cat. 

“M’gonna cum” you choke out, pulling the sheets harder to avoid hurting him by pulling his hair too hard. This brought a grin to his face, finding your nipple with his lips and sucking on the sensitive bud, just as he adds another finger, speeding up his beckoning motion. Your eyes nearly roll back when you felt his lips on your ear, encouraging you

“Yeah? Yeah pretty girl? Are you gonna cum f’me? Feels sooo good huh. Go ahead princess let me feel you cum on my hand I love it when y’pussy sucks in my fingers it’s so fuckin hot. Y’re so fuckin hot” your jaw fell slack in a silent scream, brows knitted together as he praised you while your orgasm came over you full force. You swore you saw stars behind your lids. 

“Please please please pleaaase bear” you found yourself begging, pulling him up for a kiss and he chuckled into your lips, pulling away enough to ask, 

“Please what, what baby what d’you want?” He cooed sweetly before ravishing your face with kisses which made your thumping, racing heart turn to goo 

“Please fuck me. Please- oh god please I fucking need you inside your fingers aren’t enough I need to feel you.” You begged, your voice was raspy, needy, he never heard anything hotter in his life. 

“Yeah?” He asked sweetly, resting his forehead on yours, nuzzling your nose in a eskimo kiss gently. “Open your eyes” he said softly and dried his hand on the sheets, pushing your sticky, sweat slick hair from your face and cupping your cheeks. Your eyes flickered open to meet his honest blue ones, blown with lust, glazed over with love. “Tell me again, I want to see you when you say it baby, so I know you want this.” He rubbed your jaw tenderly with his thumbs. 

“I want you to show me how much you love me, Bear, please” you said softly and he smiled in the way that showed off his little dimples, to which you kissed it gently before he told you 

“I don’t think there’s a way to show you just how much I love you, because it can’t even be described in words - but I’ll try anything f’you, squish” he kissed your forehead lovingly, lingering for a moment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked in the moment, gently rubbing his back. 

“I love you too, more than words” you said honestly when he pulled away, grabbing a condom from his nightstand drawer and ripping it open with his teeth, an action that had you clenching around nothing, but hopefully that would be resolved in just a moment. 

“Now, if you want to stop just say the word, if you can’t find your words just like…bite me I guess” he teased and you giggled, shaking your head 

“Will do” you watch as he slipped off his boxers, rolling the rubber all the way to the base, he tugged off your panties that had been soaked through, tossing them in his laundry basket since you’d need new ones after which lived in his top drawer, and got between your legs. You watch as he strokes himself a few times with his hand and you felt your throat go a bit dry. What if you were the one to ruin it all because it wouldn’t fit or something? 

“You ok?” He asked gently as he caught you staring and you met his eyes again, putting on a smile and nodding, spreading your legs wider in hopes that might make more room. 

“Amazing. Excited” you said, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but you left off your biggest and most present emotion nervous. 

“Okay…that look says I’m worried so what’s up?” He held your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb and looking into your eyes. It was impossible to lie when he looked at you like that, even more impossible when you were both butt naked and his dick was in his hand. 

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You asked nervously. He chuckled as if he didn’t believe you, shaking his head

“I’m not that hung, babe. It’ll be fine. Do you care if I touch you?” He asked and you shook your head, swallowing thickly. He knelt on the bed with his left knee, leaning over you and nestling the tip of his cock between your folds and rubbing your wetness up and over your clit, causing a small gasp to leave your lips. He watched you carefully, for any signs of discomfort or that you were having second thoughts. 

Your lips were parted and little puffs of air fan his chin, eyes hooded in pleasure and little squeaks coming out of your throat each time his tip bumped your clit firmly and the ridge of it rubbed back down to swipe over your hole and back up to repeat the assault. You could cum just like this if he did it long enough. “Feels good?” He checked, intertwining your fingers and squeezing your hand lovingly. 

“Uh-huh” was all you could manage to get out and he smiled a bit, kissing your chin gently 

“Want me to try being inside Angel?” 

In response, a needier, whinier “uh-huh” 

He looks down for a moment, grabbing his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance. “Remember what to do?” He triple checked, this time- just a quick nod. He ever so gently eased his way in, his jaw tightening at the way it made his balls feel 10 pounds heavy, his cock twitching at the foreign sensation. He grunted to cover a whine instead, and you squeezed his hand tight, looking down and watching as he slowly pushed his shaft in about a fourth of the way and stopped, looking up at you. Once more. 

“How do you feel baby?” He gently rubbed your clit with his other hand, causing you to clench around him and in turn a unconscious moan tears from his throat “jeeesus fuck” he grunts, hips sinking in further in instinct and you squeak, shifting uncomfortably which made him look down and quickly pull back out to just the tip “sorry- fuck I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened are you ok?” He kissed your wrist. 

“Burning. Kinda. Not a bad, it feels…kinda good? It like…it feels like a good stretch when it almost hurts. And like…full. So full, but like a good full. A fulfilled kinda full, is that weird?” You rambled on all the thoughts swimming in your brain other than ‘cock feels good’  which was the main one. 

“Yeah? Feels good f’me too baby” he leaned in, kissing your lips and sinking in further, half way now. He kept kissing you, gently sucking on your tongue as you got used to the uncomfort of the stretch. “Can I try moving Angel?” He asked , almost into your mouth, you just respond with a huffy hum of agreement before pulling your lips back up to his. He very slowly at first started to thrust and had to let go of your hand to fist the pillow so he didn’t bust right then. 

“Holy fuck” he pants, nuzzling his face in your neck and continuing to rub your clit as he thrusted in and out. The feeling left you breathless, wordless, thoughtless. You were on cloud nine, you could die like this. You felt that sensation of an orgasm coming in your belly again, this was the quickest he’d ever brought you to another. 

“Bear-bear- I’m-“ you whine out, back arching and jaw dropping as his tip brushes your g spot and you nearly cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes at the intense pleasure it brought. “Cumming, cumming im cumming” you babbled, as your orgasm took over, clenching and unclenching around his cock in such a way that he literally couldn’t stop himself from spilling into the condom if he tried. 

The whiny grunt he made when he came was the hottest noise you had heard to date and was nothing short of beautiful. He bit down on your neck, sucking a pretty purple bruise into the skin before burying himself to the hilt as he shoots rope after rope of seed into the condom. Your thighs tightened around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders so hard they’d leave moon shaped bruises come morning that he’d proudly walk around the house with at breakfast so Mike could finally believe that he’s not just lying about doing sexual shit with you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him there and relishing in the feeling. You felt like he was made for you, you fit together like 2 puzzle pieces. You knew he was your forever, but this solidified it even more. After he fucked you through both of your highs, he pulled out and laid next to you in a heap, panting for a few moments before he finally spoke

“Biggest mistake of my life was waiting so long to do that”

@carmenberzattosgf @daysofyellowroses @aestheticaltcow @l4long-winded @thehouseofevangelista @w31rdash @caramelberzatto @wtfsteveharrington

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Drunk reader meets rafe while he’s talking to his friends. Your drunken status leaves you falling asleep on his lap with him taking you back to his house so your safe

but you came right on time

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption

summary: after having one too many drinks, you find yourself talking to outerbanks’ golden boy.

authors note: guys i’m so sorry for not updating but with school starting last week, i’m literally dying rn. i changed it up just a tad :) thank you for the request though and i really hope you enjoy!

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

you were currently sat on the couch with a cup of cheap beer in your hand, waiting on your friend to return from wherever she’d gone. she was your ride after all.

“dude, shes smokin’ hot,” you heard a boy say from your right. you then saw him point to a girl across the room. he was standing with a green beer bottle in hand while talking to another guy sat right next to you.

the boy next to you was very pretty. he also looked very troubled.

“are you okay?” you drunkenly asked, trying to provide him some sort of comfort.

his blank expression immediately morphed into one your couldn’t quite make out when he looked towards you. “what?”

you had thought it was a pretty straightforward question. “are you okay?” you repeated a little louder this time incase he couldn’t hear over the music.

he looked almost confused. “yes? why do you ask?”

you opted for a simple shrug before you took another sip of your drink. “you look upset,” you replied. “jus’ wanted to see if you were alright.” then you held out a hand in front of you. “y/n.”

he hesitantly took it. “rafe.”

“cool name,” you slurred out. once your hands were freed from one another, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled into his side in desperate need of a nap.

you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to slowly find sleep.

rafe hadn’t even noticed, still engaged in a conversation with topper and kelce. but when he did, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect you in your vulnerable state. he gently grabbed the cup from your hand and placed it on the table along with his own. “i think ‘m gonna get going,” he alerted the other two.

“so soon?” kelce asked. “it’s just getting started.”

topper chuckled and hit the boys chest. “you gonna take her to your place or somethin’?”

“what else am i supposed to do? leave her here?” he asked with a quirked brow.

the blonde smirked. “i’m sure any other guy here would gladly take her home.”

“you’re disgusting, top,” kelce grimaced.

rafe simply rolled his eyes, not wanting to engage in a conversation with the idiot he called his best friend. he slowly stood up while making sure you wouldn’t fall over. once he was up on his feet, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “hey.”

you grumbled and stirred slightly. “what?”

“c’mon. ‘m gonna take you to my place, okay? i need you to follow me though,” he said softly, grabbing your hands and gently pulling you up on your feet. you drunkenly stumbled into his chest before finally gaining balance. “ready?” he asked as he snaked a hand around your waist for stability.

you nodded and leaned into him a little closer as you walked towards his car. once you arrived without falling over, he opened the passenger door and helped you get in and buckle up before shutting it and doing the same for himself.

fortunately, the ride to the cameron residence was short.

and to make things even better, his parents weren’t home. nor were his sisters.

with his assistance, you two had successfully made it up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“here,” he said, handing her an unopened bottle of water on his bedside table he’d placed there before he left earlier in the day. “take a seat and drink it.”

you groaned, closing your eyes as you sat down. “i don’t like water.”

his brow raised in confusion. “you don’t like water?”

you immediately shook your head slowly to avoid worsening your headache. “no. too bland.”

he couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, i need you to drink a little bit then you can head to bed.” he began to rummage through his drawers before dropping something onto the mattress next to her. “here. change into these. if you need anything, i’m gonna go get some ibuprofen from the kitchen.”

you nodded lazily and waited until he closed the door behind himself to change into the clothes.

when he returned, he knocked softly and asked a soft, “can i come in?” when he got no answer, he slowly opened the door to find you knocked out already. you were dressed in his hoodie and sweats that absolutely swallowed you. he glanced over at the water bottle as he headed to the closet, noticing you’d taken a few sips. he pulled out a soft blanket from inside and draped it over you in hopes of making you as comfortable as possible.

the thought of you not being here with him right now and having someone else take you home to do only god knows what to you was making his blood boil. it didn’t matter though. after all, you were here with him.

he grabbed out another blanket from the college and a pillow, making his bed for the night on the floor. if this were anyone else he was sleeping on the ground for, he’d be pissed. but knowing you were here and protected by him somehow just made him feel a whole lot better.

[asliceofzosan]

in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)

Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.

Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.

Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.

He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"

Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?

"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.

"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."

Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.

"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.

Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.

The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.

"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.

"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.

"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.

"Cubed or crushed?"

"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.

"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.

"Your bill, sir."

"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.

There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.

Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.

With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.

"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.

"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.

But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.

"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"

The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.

It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.

Scrub scrub scrub...

"You sure you don't want any help?"

Scrub scrub rinse...

"No."

Scrub rinse dry...

"I really have nothing better to do."

Zoro's eye twitches.

"Good for you."

A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...

"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"

"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."

Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.

"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"

"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.

Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.

"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."

"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.

"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.

Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.

"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.

"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."

"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"

"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"

Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.

"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.

"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"

Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.

"It's not about that."

"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."

"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."

"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"

"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"

"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."

"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"

"But is it your dream?"

Silence. Total utter silence.

Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.

There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.

The All Blue.

In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.

There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.

But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.

Zoro takes one.

And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.

"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."

Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.

Zoro wants to see him shine.

"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."

Sanji doesn't protest.

Zoro takes the rice balls to go.

Never waste food.

[writememysticfalls]

Jealous | Stefan Salvatore

Summary: Stefan is the perfect boyfriend - but all you can think about is his dirtbag brother Damon. One night, Stefan can't take it anymore.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Genre: Angsty, jealous!Stefan

Word count: >1k

“Happy 18th Birthday!” everyone cheered as you walked into the Salvatore house. You spun round and grinned at Stefan, who was leaning on the doorframe, looking modest.

“You like it?” he said quietly.

You jumped onto Stefan, hugging him and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I love it.”

Just when you were enjoying yourself, someone entered like a dark cloud: Damon Salvatore.

He sauntered down the stairs into the living room and whisked your cup from your hand. He sipped it in disgust.

“Beer! Naughty Nancy. Should I call the cops on you kids?”

You snatched the cup back from him, your heart racing. “Go away,” you said.

You hated Damon. You hated his arrogant smile, the way he looked down on you and Stefan like you were kids. Most of all, you hated how dumb he made you feel.

“Ooh, nasty,” Damon said, clutching his heart in false agony. “I might never recover from that.”

“Go back to your room,” Stefan said, pushing his chest out at Damon. The move didn't manage to look threatening, because Damon was taller than him.

“Ooh, looks like little bro’s getting angry,” Damon said. “I would love a fight. This party is a yawn. I bet you'll have the whole crowd going beddy byes by 9.” He said that last part in a baby voice.

“Just ignore him,” Stefan said, steering your shoulders away as Damon loped up the stairs.

You grabbed a random red cup from the table, and gulped it down, then did the same with a second. “Right, right,” you said. “I can't believe Damon! I mean, does he think he can just waltz in here and tell us what to do?”

Stefan nodded. “Damon loves to waltz.”

You huffed. “He didn't just insult me - he insulted you. He talked to you like a child, Stefan. Didn't that annoy you?”

Stefan pulled you into a slow dance in the centre of the room. “Forget about Damon, babe. This is your night.”

But you were too full of alcohol and righteous indignation to listen to your boyfriend.

“He thinks I don't know how to have fun? I know how to have fun!”

You stormed up the stairs, and to the door to the roof. Stefan tramped behind the whole way.

Once you were on the roof, you looked down at the Salvatores’ swimming pool, which glowed like a blue gem three floors down. Swaying a little, you yanked off your black vest, and then your shorts, so you were just in your underwear.

“No, Y/n, this is crazy,” Stefan said. “You're human, you could break your neck.”

“I'm not afraid of a little danger, Stefan,” you said. Only, the icy wind was sobering you up, and you were realising that it was an awfully long way down.

“Why are you acting like this?” Stefan said, and he sounded so despairing you turned to look at him. He rubbed his hands over his face and sat on the edge of the roof. “Your friends spent days organising this party. You ignored all of them, got stupidly drunk and are now risking your life for an insane stunt. What's gotten into you?”

You locked your jaw firmly into place. “Maybe you're the problem. You treat me like I'm made of glass. I mean, you're a vampire, isn't dating you meant to be fun?”

Stefan’s mouth fell open a little. He seemed too angry to speak for a moment. “This isn't you, Y/n, this…” He stopped speaking mid-sentence. “Oh my god. You have feelings for my brother.”

You frowned. “You've got it twisted. I hate Damon. He ruins every waking hour of my life.”

Stefan gave a faintly hysterical laugh. “Oh my god. How did I not see this? I am such an idiot.”

“Shut up!” you said, feeling suddenly vulnerable in your nakedness.

Stefan stared at you, and his black eyes were so cold and careless, you shivered. “Why exactly do you hate my brother, Y/n?”

You blinked. You hadn't expected this question. “Because - because he makes my blood boil. When I'm around him, I feel like this stupid child that can't speak or think straight. Because he sticks in my head and ruins every good moment I have with you.”

Stefan turned away. “I see.”

“Wait,” you said, following Stefan, suddenly aware in your drunkenness that you had said something wrong. “Don't go away like this, Stefan. I love you. Can we just start over?”

He stopped walking, and you moved in front of him, wrapping your hands around his face. “Stefan, you're- you're so sweet, and kind, and you love me, and you actually pay attention to me-”

Stefan broke you off with a grating laugh. “I get it. You chose me because my brother ignores you and I don't. Just what every guy wants to hear.”

You froze, stunned by the truth of what he had said. It was true that you had first approached Stefan, because his soft, friendly beauty was the safe alternative to Damon’s gut-wrenching charm. You could be cool, and funny, and smart around Stefan - because he didn't make you feel the way Damon did. It didn't feel like your heart would burst out of your chest every time he walked in the room. You didn't spend nights lying awake, overanalysing every flutter of his hand on your back, replaying every time he said your name. It was just… easier.

“I just hope you're happy together,” Stefan said, his face unreadable. He vaulted over the roof in a flash and was gone.

You sat there with your hands grasping your knees, shivering and half-naked. This birthday had quickly gone from being a perfect night to being a terrible one - all because you couldn't hide your feelings for your boyfriend's idiotic brother.

—

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[theemporium]

Could you do a James Potter c reader smut pls

thank you for requesting!🖤

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James Potter wasn’t quite sure how he got into this situation but he wasn’t complaining.

The roars of the crowds and the thrill of their win was still buzzing through his body as they marched into the common room, holding the Quidditch Cup above their heads like they were kings and queens. 

It had taken less than fifteen minutes after Gryffindor had won the final match that confirmed their win before the common room had been turned into a party scene with balloons and streamers and smuggled bottles of booze shared amongst the group. 

It had taken even less time for James to be roped into some drinking games because he was competitive down to his bone and he would be damned if he let Sirius beat him at shotgunning a can of beer they had smuggled in through the muggle world.

And then somehow between the drinking and the dancing and the celebrating with his team and house, James’ eyes caught yours and it was like a quick spiral from there. 

One minute he was staring at you from across the room and the next he was dancing with your back pressed against his front, your ass grinding against his dick. Then you were kissing in the middle of the common room, only for you to take his hand and guide him somewhere a little more quiet. Then before his brain could even catch up, you were sinking down on your knees in front of him, your wide eyes gleaming up at his dumbstruck expression. 

“The captain deserves a reward, no?”

James gulped. “I thought the trophy was my reward.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, brows raised in question as you reached for his belt buckle but the boy quickly shook his head. “Words, Potter.” 

“I, uh, I want this,” he stuttered out, his cheeks burning red as you tugged his zip down. 

“Anything for you, captain,” you murmured with a smirk on your lips as you pulled his cock free from his confinements, stroking his length until a small bead of precum oozed from the tip and then you took him in your mouth.

James was about ninety percent convinced that this was some wet dream he was going to kick himself from waking up from in a few moments. Between the Quidditch Cup win and the pretty girl sucking his cock whilst she swore his jersey number on her back, he swore this was only something his deepest desires could conjure up. 

But then you were moaning around his cock, reminding him that this was very real and his hands were tangled in your hair as he fucked your mouth. 

“Fuck, you look gorgeous with my cock in your mouth, darling,” he groaned, his thighs clenching as your nails dug into his skin, but he enjoyed the bite of pain. “You like having your mouth full, hm? Bet you fucking love when I fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

You could only moan around his cock in response. 

He could barely take it anymore as he looked down at you, only to find you already staring at him with glossy eyes, tears pooling and threatening to fall down your cheeks. He noticed the way your hips rocked aimlessly, the idea that you were enjoying this as much as he was was enough to tip him over the edge as he shot into your mouth. 

His head fell back against the wall, his lips parting as he groaned out your name as he came. His chest was heaving as he took a second to ground himself before he looked down at you, seeing you swipe your thumb to catch any of his release that you had missed and fuck, that had to be one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

“Fucking hell, darling, you’re gonna kill a man,” he murmured as his hooded eyes focused on the way your thighs clenched together to try ease your own desire.

“I’ll take that as a compliment to my blowjob skills,” you retorted, making his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Let me return the favour, baby,” he said to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. 

You raised your brows. “You ready to go again so soon, Potter?”

His smile was wolfish as he responded. “Oh baby, I plan to have you come on my face at least two times before I fuck you with my cock.”

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