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nkopurin · 4 months ago

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fratboy!toji is nothing less than a menace to society.

now tell me, and stay with me on this one, what do people think when it comes to fratboys? the average person would usually think of the following traits: dumb, self-centered, fuckboys, party animals, muscles and no brain, arrogant, reckless, immature even. however, toji wasn't your average 'sigma kappa tau' member. he is the three big C's in a nutshell. cunning, cold, and calculating, but of course, these are the only traits that differentiate him from being a good old regular frat bud.

he is a party animal, through and through.

he is arrogant and self-centered; there is no question about it.

he is a fuckboy, with his looks it would be a crime not to be. and he would never turn down a pretty face, ever.

nevertheless, he was an above average student, muscles and brain type of guy—not a top valedictorian student, though. he knew the spotlight brought nothing but prying eyes and trouble. as edgy as it sounds, he liked to stay in the shadows, away from the lime light.

he is the thinking head behind the 'sigma kappa tau' house. he coordinated the parties, found desperate nerds, ones who thought they were good enough candidates to be part of the 'brotherhood', to clean up after. and he indeed financed these parties via not so legal means. it was somewhat of an open secret/rumor that toji was a plug.

he knew a lot of people who dabbled in various things, so in just the dial of the phone he got it for you, and everything that you might be desperate to latch your hands on.

you needed a gram of blow, weed, oxy, burner phones, getaway car, or contraband alcohol? don't worry! toji was handling it to you by sundown.

or perhaps you need information on someone? at least that's what it seemed to be the case with you.

"so you know where that creep is?" the ticking of the clock was defening in the stagnant silence. you shifted your weight on the couch, your gaze trailed toji's every step and move he took.

"of course i know, princess." he lowers the brick phone to his chest to look at your pretty, dolled up figure. it was impossible for him not to walk your way and catch your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his. yet you jerked away from his touch, not taking even a grain of his performative, affectionate gestures. obviously, he was charming, got muscled for days, evil as shit, and that chiseled god-like face is just your type down to a t. but then again, you were nothing less than a hater of his stupid, little games.

"just tell me where they are fushiguro," you might be dressed in all pastels and fancy skirts bestowing an innocent, preppy act. but the death stare you gave the frat revealed your nature perfectly, toji's breath hitched, your cold eyes stirred up hardcore emotions inside him. he's an adrenaline junkie, one who lusts after control and being above anyone, nevertheless, you are not easily swayed...yet.

"only if you take me."

━━━

"hey tits." toji came crashing into any room he entered with his signature arrogance and rudeness. nobody was safe from him, not even you, fuck you wouldn't be surprised if he disrespected his mother in a similar fashion.

"how's it going, steroids?" you scoffed, even amidst the caos, splatted intimate pictures with blood droplets resting on them and a wailing, tied up dude, toji had the power to make you even angrier than you already were.

"my night became brighter now that i've seen you doll..." there was no way toji would miss the opportunity, even with a half-conscious man in front of him, to shower his next target with flowers, "so this is what the guy looks like."

the beat up dude looked like any average joe to be honest. who knew this normal looking man would sneak mundane and lewd pictures of your sorority sisters indiscriminately.

"yes, i hope he learns not to take more pictures...of anybody, ever," even in the chair that you sat, your cold, poisonous words engraved themselves deep into everybody inside the room, "girls, you can leave now, you've done good. i have something to discuss with fushiguro here."

your sorority sisters left the secluded shack one following the other, giving their 'thank you's' to you and toji. he gave them all the disheveled, blood-stained ladies a polite smile, while doing a mental note to never mess with your sorority in any way. he was sure to tell his boys this.

"so how much," you briefly looked at him before unzipping your purse. there is always a price for these types of job's, you just hoped the money that you brought was more than enough.

"a date." you stopped counting on the money. he is not serious.

"toji i'm serious..."

"god, keep saying my name."

"how much toji, i don't have all night." toji took a hold to your chin for you to look at him, just like days prior. and your exasperation deepened.

"as i said doll, a date."

"...ugh, fine!" you bounce up, raging due to your predicament, and what better way to take your frustration out than on somebody. more specifically on creepy-mcgee, "this is all your fault!"

and it actually was, if it weren't for this perverted nobody, you wouldn't have sought out for toji's help. if it weren't for you heels you would kick the shit out of the guy, "i'll burn the pics, can you keep fucking this guy up?"

"anything for the lady." like a puppy doing a trick for the treat, toji took to breaking further the poor devils face. but not before taking a picture, specifically of you, from the ground into his pocket.

you did not hate toji, hate is a strong word, there was only distaste for some aspects of his personality and antics. but that sour taste you had of him diluted with every strike he blew on your stalker's face. you could not help but peek at him whenever you took the prints from the floor. it was completely messed up to find the aggressor attractive, but his muscles flexing and contracting were just too cool, with each spilling of blood towards random places proving his strength. toji's grin was akin to the devil's, dangerously enchanting, one that drives you insane and willing to commit the most heinous sin imaginable. whatever could you do to keep seeing that smile often?

you tossed the pictured into the empty barrel and poured some oil in it before setting it ablaze with some lit matches. there was no escape from the scene in front of you, as you tossed the last match you couldn't help but to thing in how wrong you are. completely wrong to find satisfaction in violence, one that toji of all people induced.

without a word you set out of the shack, felling the soft night breeze hit you, you tried to keep your remaining integrity intact. the car where you came in was nowhere in sight, obviously. the only vehicle left was toji's old ass subaru.

'fuck it,' you began to navigate your way towards toji's ride and rest your weight near its door. the beating in your heart marched like a parade drum, this was not happening. your body wanted him, scratch that, needed him in unspeakable ways.

"hey," toji started, "i came to see if you were alright, maybe the scene was too much—"

your lips seeking his was bound to happen. you didn't let him finish his sentence; besides, it didn't matter, his concern was always a show. you thought this inebriating feeling would appease itself, well you thought wrong.

"fucking shut up fushiguro, just kiss me."

"fuck," he heaved, sinking back into the lips of the woman he so desperately coveted. with every stroke of his tongue in yours the fever for him just increased in temperature.

'more!' your body was quick to demand, and your hands even quicker to lay on his toned abdomen, shamelessly traversing through his smooth skin. his bloody hands kept your head in place as his lips explored every crevice of your mouth.

"do ughn~ do something fushiguro!" you whinged, leading his beaten up hand all the way down to that wet spot in between your legs.

"damn, doll...can't use my fingers though," he whispered, caressing your clothed cunt, crimson stains sadly smearing over the fabric.

you catch a fistful of his shirt collar, bringing him to your face level and not minding the means to relieve you. it just had to be him, "then your mouth will have to do."

you did not believe the rumors of toji fushiguro's head being mind blowing. they had to be a brazen exaggeration, nothing more than a whisper started by him to inflate his ego a set his reputation in stone. but as they say 'don't knock it 'till you try it'.

to your pride's dismay, the rumors fell short in comparison to the real deal. this man didn't tickle your pussy, he devoured it. his hot, wet tongue circled around your clit before lapping it through your slit. your back rested comfortably in the car's hood, skirt up, panties to your side and your legs locked firmly around toji's neck. strings of moaned profanities left your mouth, your hands gripping at toji's raven locks. at this rate you migh as well leave a bald spot with how hard you tugged at his hair for him to go deeper in you.

disappointment will fill you once your head clears from the lustful fog. but in this precise second all you wanted was to seek your orgasm. and sure enough you were terribly close, toji switched from burying his tongue inside of you to kissing the most sensitive parts of your pussy.

"fushi—toji~ i am, shit if you keep—going i'm gonna- i-!" torrents of erratic pleasure rippled from your pelvis through out your body. your juices coated toji's lips and dripped to his chin.

you heaved, gasping for the fresh air of nature, the stars above twinkled and now your mind became clear once more.

"get off me, help me too."

"man a thank you would be nice." always the gentleman, toji helped you sit right, kneeling to push your panties up and secure you in place as you stood up. even after you ignored his need of gratitude.

"what are you gonna do about that?" you gestured at the obvious bulge in his pants.

"shit, baby, don't worry i got certified jerk off material right here." he took the picture he had previously tucked in his pocket, out on display for you to see. apparently the creep that took all the sorority's most intimate moments actually had a talent for photography.

"fuck, fushiguro, give me my picture!" you caught a glimpse of its contents; you observing your figure through tithe mirror in a pink dress, one that looked eerily similar to lingerie. you tried to snatch it from his grasp, however he held it high in the air, making it imposible for you to get ahold of.

"you'll have to bounce on my cock if you want the pic dollface," he beamed a grin while opening the passenger door, "let's go to mine and finish the transaction."

"ughh, you're insufferable fushiguro."

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never thought this would be as long as it did :o + feedback on my writing is hella appreciated !

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thelotusrabbit · 2 days ago

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If I may suggest something for a dcxdp prompt? Y'know the ideas where Dan and ellie get deaged so danny has to take care of them? That but Dan is the one taking care of danny and Dani. Add in Dan x Jason(no idea what their ship name is) Where the two kids are constantly brused and hurt in some way, and jason being upsetti spaghetti at these 2 8 year Olds constantly having and gaining bruises and other injuries so he stalks the kids home where he finds tired dad!Dan who opens the door for them sees the new injuries and the reopened ones and sighs heavily pointing further into the apartment and Jason hears the exchange:

Dan: you two do know the reason we can't afford anything nice is cause I spend so much restocking the med kit right?

Danny: that and the fact we're still illegal.

Dani: Still think it's bullshit that they got rid of the goons in white but not the actual laws.

Dan: yeah well with our way back home cut off, your crown going missing, and grams not answering any of my calls were stuck until something changes.

Dani: I mean there is that-

Dan: shit up, shut up, shut up. The revinant may be hot and may be making my old protecter instincts swoon, but no, we are not doing that.

Danny: coward.

Dan: dash, Kwan, Sam, Paulina, you have no room to speak twerp you just want someone who can and will manhandle you.

Danny: Like, you dont?

Dan: That's irrelevant

(I may have lost the point a little but like I crave more Dan x Jason either redeemed or still in their semi-mostly-villain eras)

I'm usually more Danny centric, but this Is really cute and I don't have anything to add to it ^^

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dpxdc #dc universe #dp x dc #writing prompt #dp x dc prompt #dani phantom #dan phantom #jason todd #red hood #dan x jason

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serosluv2 · 1 year ago

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obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

#woohoo first day back after my 6 month leave #not that any of yall care #also I started watching jjk (yeah in late I know)#sero x reader #sero hanta #mha headcanons #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki

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cloversnstrawberries · 3 months ago

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oc intro post ! ! older brother!platonic yandere!80s slasher

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; yandere behavior, possessiveness, overprotective behavior, mentions of murder, violence, serial killings, and past bullying of reader; manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment, delusions (zachary thinks he's just protecting you), mental instability, and there might be more i forgot :(( if so, please let me know if i should add!!

additional notes; i'm very tired right now, but i just had to get this out of my system,,, here is the next runner up from the poll, Zachary!! i don't know what else to say. uh. go subscribe to dead meat !!! also i hope u enjoy :)

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Sometime around the mid-1980s, in a small town right dab smack in the middle of the American Midwest; resided you and your family, consisting of you, your mom, your dad, your family dog--

And your older brother, Zachary. By all accounts, he was the quintessential all-american teen. It was almost like he was ripping right from the sitcoms and various movies and TV that followed high schoolers.

...Except for one teensy little detail, that if discovered, would shatter his entire persona. All he was would be brought into question-- for good reason, he supposes, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to think about the possibility of his secret being outed.

That being the fact he was the Fools Killer-- I mean, no one would suspect Zachary! You'd have to be crazy to accuse him of being the maniac going around in a jesters costume, killing people with no obvious rhyme or reason.

You'd be right, but you'd still be crazy. Zachary wouldn't do something like that! He was a kind, caring, and popular guy. He was the kind that'd help you pick up books after spilling them in the hallway, or pay for his friends if they couldn't afford food at the moment.

He was your brother, and he was a great one at that. The part where he (noticeably) differed from the depictions of his kind of small-town golden boy, was that he wasn't cruel to you at all.

If anything, he was so nice to you that people questioned it. How could siblings be so close? Sure, you fought-- just like everyone else did. Fought over stupid stuff, like your brother pouring himself a 1/2 gram more of soda than he poured you, or for a spot on the couch;

Normal stuff. But other than that, you didn't really butt heads. No mocking, no mean-spirited teasing, or purposeful humiliation.

He was, however, very protective of you. At first it was manageable, when you were younger-- still was, to an extent. It all hit a head about a year ago, when he yelled at you for not telling him you were getting picked on. That he would've dealt with it, before you got the big blackeye you'd come home with.

That was the one and only time he ever yelled at you.

The boy who gave you that black eye disappeared shortly after-- and is commonly thought of as the first victim of the Fools Killer. You don't make the connection, even as more and more people disappear around you; people who dared to slight you,

Who dared to slight Zachary's precious little sibling.

He thought of it as... pest control, really. These people weren't going to go anywhere in life anyways, with how they treated you.

Really, you were the most precious thing on Earth to Zachary-- he refused to believe that it wasn't simply fact. It slipped his mind that everyone else was so stupid, unable to see how brightly you shined.

he was just protecting you, is all-- and it relieved his stress as well. He felt bad for snapping on you, he really does; but it'd been so cathartic to deal with the little shit himself,

It's for your own good, that he's secretly become Fools Killer. He's just protecting you-- both from others, and from him ever yelling at you again. You didn't deserve it.

It's for your own good that he keeps you in the dark as long as possible-- but when, eventually, his clever little sibling figures out Zachary's little 'hobby', or walks in at a less-than-ideal time;

Well, it's hardly his fault if he has to take you somewhere else, so he can take care of you. You don't need anyone else. He's always been here for you-- more than your parents, in his mind.

besides, he's a pretty damn good actor. He was practically born ready to play the part of a grieving brother, doing all he can to try and find his missing little sibling; afraid that they too had ended up as a victim of the recent killings.

Knowing damn well where you were, kept safe and sound in a little shed/hangout you two's dad had built Zachary when he was younger, as a place to escape from it all.

It was surprisingly easy to make into a living space for you-- and even easier to lock it down, lock you down, and make sure you can't leave.

it's all for your own good, after all! He knows the phrase usually goes mother knows best... but he's sure whoever invented the saying wouldn't be too mad if he altered it to fit his purposes, right?

#oc: zachary #yandere x reader #yandere oc #platonic yandere #platonic yandere oc #platonic yandere x reader #yandere #yandere horror #my writing #reqs open #requests open #my ocs <3 #oc intro !

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hellfirecvnt · 6 months ago

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Don't Piss Me Off (Pt. 1)

John Q. (Simon) X Fem!Reader

Warnings: DRUG USE!! Y/N smokes weed and does coke. Don't do drugs, it's for the bit. Drugs are bad. Don't be stupid. This is self indulgent as fuck. Simon is mean, obvs. Y/N is also mean.

Summary: You're back in your hometown for a few weeks to house sit for your parents. A rivalry dating back to your high school years makes an appearance, but this time, he's met his match.

Notes: I finally found someone angry and hot to fill the Billy Hargrove shaped hole in my fanfic writing heart. Fuck ST. Free Palestine.

You invited everyone to this party. An absolute rager while you're house sitting for your parents. Their home is huge compared to your humble two bedroom house, states away. You've reached out to everyone you can remember from your hometown, and it's surprisingly a lot. The house is packed by the time all the guests arrive. A feeling of accomplishment straightens your shoulders as the music surges through the house. Your pride is promptly diminished when a familiar face you specifically didn't invite steps through the door. Simon.

"Why is he here?" You whisper to the nearest person, but somehow, through the music and loud conversation, he hears you as if you whispered it directly to him.

"I heard there was a party. I followed the clientele." He winks, patting a pocket on his dirty bomber jacket.

"Are you selling drugs inside my parents' house?" You ask, acting mortified. He just smirks, basking in the idea of setting you off like he used to, years ago. Long before you left this town. "Let me get an eighth of smoke and a gram of whatever I can put up my nose." The request visibly caught him off guard. He stares at you with a raised eyebrow as he rummages in his pocket for your order.

"Y'know I don't really-"

"What? You stop selling weed?"

"No, it's just," he tilts his head before shoving the illegal contents into your hand. "You seem different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, like you're not a whiny fuckin' kid blowing up my spot anymore." He chuckles as he slips past you, and dissolves into the party. That's right, years ago, when the two of you were in high school, he was expelled when administration seemingly randomly brought in drug dogs, and his locker was raided. To everyone's surprise, he still graduated from the alternative school and even went on to college, but apparently his pursuit of education stopped there when his well-known temper earned him the boot.

Sure, you were a bit of a late bloomer. A classic loser amongst your classmates. The poster child of people who took D.A.R.E extremely seriously, even though you'd never once given a shit about it. You knew he always blamed you for his getting caught, he made your life hell in college before you moved. You forgot all about him before he stepped through your parents' door.

He's already here, so you decide to let him make his money and spice up your party. It's not like you'll run into him again with the way people keep showing up. A bored town, a boring town seeking any kind of thrill outside the two bars that close at 11 PM.

You're not much of a drinker, so your eighth and blow do exactly what you need them to. The coke keeps you chatty and energetic, while the weed mellows that swinging jaw you'd have. Coke is a special occasion drug, your tolerance isn't something to brag about. You sneak off to the bathroom every once in a while, and no one seems to notice, so you get a little brave, slipping away on the empty back patio to cut out a quick line on your mother's hand mirror.

Your technique is swift, muscle memory from your harder partying days in college. The entire time, Simon watches through a window. He'd caught you in passing, and watched in curiosity as the girl he knew with big, innocent eyes and a loud mouth rails a sizable line of hard drugs. He's dumbfounded, laughing lightly to himself. You clean the glass of the remaining powder with your index finger and rub it against your gums, lifting the mirror to check your nose for evidence of your patio soiree. Just as your eyes meet your own, the patio door slides open, and you're no longer alone in the safety of darkness. "Not your first time with that shit." It's not a question, but it sounds like it was supposed to be.

"Far from it," you sigh, relieved. You don't mind smoking with others, but the coke is something you'd prefer to keep to yourself.

"Could'a fooled me," he strikes a lighter, cherrying the end of his cigarette. "You used to be a fucking bitch." He wraps his lips around those last two words, really annunciating each syllable. It's dark, but there's enough moonlight to see the dark circles around his eyes as he displays that same threatening look he used to shoot at you in college between shoulder checks and vulgar insults.

"This 'fucking bitch' will beat your ass now, Kenny. Watch ya' fuckin' mouth," you mock his accent, as yours thinned out after being away for so long.

"Who the fuck is Kenny?" He looks genuinely thrown off.

"No fuckin' poise. Stay focused. Don't insult me on my own patio, I'll fuck us both up." You're speaking almost gibberish, but the only way to knock him down is to throw him off.

"Who the fuck are you?" Simon chuckles, taking a drag of his cig.

"It's been a long time. I'm surprisingly not 16 anymore. You don't seem very young yourself."

He takes a drag, eyes widening as if he's watching a TV show that caught him pleasantly off guard. "Yeah, okay."

"How are sales?" You ask, running your tongue across your teeth to disperse the numbing of the bitter substance.

"Not bad. You just invite everyone whose name you could remember?"

"Everyone but you, Simon." You sigh.

"Well, I hate it for you, Queen Bitch. But I've gotta make money somehow."

"You could try a job," you say, but after you look him up and down, you change your mind. "Nevermind." He releases a genuine laugh, puffing plooms of smoke from his lips with each heave of his chest. "You still doing that band thing?"

"'Band thing?'" he huffs. "Yes. I'm still doing the... Band thing."

"Yikes, soft spot, huh? Not going great?" Years ago you took his verbal beatings with a cowering stance, and often, tears. Today you're giving it all back to him. The reason for your vitriol is not lost on him, so he takes every blow.

"It's going fine. You should come to a show. Get out of your little rich kid bubble for two seconds." Clocked. You've been clocked. Your stunted social skills stemmed directly from how sheltered and spoiled you were until the age of 18 when you finally realized what your life was, compared to others. You worked and saved your own money and moved away at 20. Away from your shelter, away from your helicopter parents, and realistically, away from Simon.

"Yeah, that'll be the day," you're laughing until you notice something going south right inside the door. A fight seems to have broken out. You burst through the entryway, shoving yourself between the two men. One of them, a tall, broad man steps back, acknowledging the escalation at hand. While the other, shorter, almost shorter than you, seems to only get more angry. "You need to calm the fuck down!" You yell, only trying to be heard over his own volume.

"Get the fuck out of my face, bitch!" The short man spits like venom. You look at him with a raised eyebrow, and something takes hold. Before you know it, your own fist is connecting with his jaw. The crowd is rallying you on, but your hit wasn't enough to knock him out. You're aware that your swing warrants a swing back, but God, you know it's about to hurt even with this dude being the size he is. He swings his fist under and hooks you in the stomach. It's painful, but you can't help but heave a wheezing, breathless laugh at the idea that he swung low because he might not have properly reached your face. He's not even that short, but you can't stop the laughter. That only pisses him off more, and he swings again, this time catching your cheek.

By now, you've both been separated as the spectators realize it was kinda strange to watch a man fight a woman, regardless of how it started. You're still laughing, breathless from the hit and sweating from the cocaine. When you're finally released, the laughing returns to anger and you run half of the party off.

"Party's over, fuck outta here!" You call, harshly pushing the power button on the stereo. "Short stack ruined it for all of you. Get out of my house!" You leave the passed out guests alone, they're safer here anyways. Once you return to the patio, you take your same seat and return to the conversation as if nothing happened. "As I was saying, no. I won't be at a Psycho's show."

"It's Psyops and you fuckin' know that." He speaks harshly before reeling it in, and clearing his throat. "What the hell was that?" He gestures to the door with his thumb.

"I told you I'll beat your ass now, Kenny."

"Was that Kenny? Who the fuck is Kenny?" It's clear he hasn't stopped thinking about "Kenny" since the first time you said it.

"I don't know who that guy was," you shrug. "Can I have a smoke?" You rub your sore cheek.

"Whatever," he tosses a cigarette your way. "What was with the laughing? You just fuckin' insane or something? You been in the asylums this whole time?" He looks almost serious with his inquiry. Like he wouldn't be surprised.

"No, I just-" you start to laugh again. "I imagined him punching me in the gut because he couldn't reach my face." You graze your fingers over your cheek again. "But clearly I was unaware of his lengthy arms or something. He seemed shorter from far away," you chuckle.

"Fuckin' ridiculous," Simon laughs with you, shaking his head.

"Yeah, thanks for jumping in, by the way." You joke, cutting out another line on the small silver mirror.

"Jumping in? For you? A fuckin' snitch?" He raises his eyebrows, as if he's been waiting to address this.

"Oh, fuck off. I didn't fucking snitch on you," you announce before inhaling the line.

"Y/N, it's been years. Just fuckin-"

"Simon, I didn't snitch on you. I didn't know you sold drugs at school. I thought they searched our lockers daily, I didn't think anyone would be able to sell drugs that easily at school." As you're explaining, you realize you never denied telling on him, you just silently took his punishment, hoping it'd eventually stop.

"Are you a god damn idiot? You thought they searched all those lockers every fuckin' day?" He's in disbelief.

"That's what my parents told me," you shrug, rubbing the powder from the mirror on your gums again.

"I ain't buying that shit," he mumbles like a growl. "You got that Mickey kid expelled too. Year before." He's staring you down like he's got you cornered.

"Yeah, because he pushed me down the fucking stairs, Simon. I was in the hospital for a week. He broke my arm." You're shocked that it wasn't common knowledge why Mickey was expelled. "He's in jail right now for the armed robbery of a church."

"Wait, seriously?" Simon huffs a chuckle as he pieces it all together and finally, finally considers the fact that you weren't the snitch.

"Have you ever considered that maybe you weren't very good at it? Selling drugs at school, I mean." You tilt your head, awaiting an answer.

"You really didn't do it," he exhales a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he'd just lit.

"No, I didn't. And you made every single day hell for me. You ran me out of town." You're laughing as you say it, looking down and focusing on rolling a joint, but he keeps his eyes on you. A glint of guilt flashes in his pupils, but you'd never know. He used to wonder if he had a hand in your running off, and today it was finally confirmed. Your laugh carries the weight of everything you were getting away from. A man that feels anger as deeply as Simon does, incidentally, comes with the ability to empathize with pain.

"Alright. Next time, I'll jump in." He relaxes, leaning back into the chair.

"Sounds good." You spark up your joint and take a long drag before passing it to Simon. An olive branch. A silent truce. Forgiveness that he didn't deserve. He takes it from your hand and takes a hit. The usually smooth smoke scrapes into his lungs from the guilt. The feeling quickly dissipates as the two of you get stoned.

You both stay there in those seats all night. You hardly realize the passing of time until the sky begins to light up a pale morning blue. "Holy shit, how long have we been out here?" Simon asks, noticing his empty pack of cigarettes. You throw a five dollar bill toward him.

"I owe you. I smoked over half of those." He stuffs the money in his pocket with a nod. "You can stay here, but if you knock on my door at any point after I go to sleep I will fight you like the little guy." Simon looks around and shakes his head.

"No thanks." He nods and heads towards the door.

"See ya' around, Simon." As he closes your door behind him, something sends a tingle down his spine when he hears you say his name again. A softness directed towards him that he's not used to. It's uncomfortable and new and the sensation of craving more pisses him off. He shrugs his shoulders, physically shaking the feeling from his body before heading off on foot. To where? Who fuckin' knows.

The next day, or that same day, way later when you wake up, you're already planning your next get together as you clean up from last night. It's not as bad as usual, but probably because it got cut a few hours short after the altercation. A feat that you had forgotten about until you caught your reflection while brushing your teeth. A small bruise has formed under your eye where you were hit. "Ha, what a pussy." You lift your shirt to examine your stomach and there's not even a semblance of a hit. "Pussy!" You repeat, louder.

After getting ready for the day, you head to the store to replenish the stock for your next shindig. Your parents always leave their credit card when you house sit. It's the only time in your adult life you don't mind using their money. They hardly notice it anyways.

As you're strolling the aisles of the bodega, you spot Simon. Something in you feels awkward about last night, so you hang back until he leaves. He looks tired and disheveled. More so than usual. And he's a little out of breath like he'd been running. He buys a pack of smokes with the five you gave him and disappears out the door. You make your purchase and tote two 30 packs to your rickety, old van. A vehicle you were proud to buy yourself before you moved out. Simon watches you from the corner of the store, having a smoke before continuing his trek across town. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to remember when he saw you drink anything at all at the party. "She can't seriously be throwing another shit show," he mumbles.

He bolts when police pull into the lot, no doubt still in pursuit of him. They pull up to your van and you stand outside, defensively. Unsure of what in your van could get you in trouble at this moment. "Have you seen this guy?" They hold up a picture of Simon. The way he looked in college, anyways. He's shaved his head now.

"No, I can't say I have." You shrug.

"Take this and let us know if you see anyone suspicious." The cop hands you the paper and you take it with a flat smile. Once they leave the lot, you crumple the paper into a ball and toss it in your van.

Simon just can't shake the image of you he's had in his mind all these years. Shy and afraid. Avoiding eye contact and clutching your books to your chest when he'd loom over you and whisper vicious cruelties. Now you walk with your back straight. You look him in the eye, even when he tries to make you uncomfortable just for fun. You fist-fight people and laugh because you imagined something funny in the middle of getting an uppercut to the stomach. You bought drugs from him the second he walked in the door. You're hardly recognizable.

That night, you're settling in the living room with a movie on the TV. It's a quiet, peaceful evening as you smoke a joint on your couch, enjoying the silence of your own company.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!

Someone frantically bangs on the door before bursting in and slamming it behind them. "Hey! Are you home or what?" Simon yells into the foyer.

"I'm right here, you scared the shit out of me!" You throw a handful of popcorn at him. "Why are you inside my parents' house? What time is it?"

"I don't know what time it is. Shut up, listen, I need to," he seems to search for a softer word than 'hide.' "Stay in here for an hour or two."

"I saw your wanted poster. You're a real outlaw, huh? Arson, right? Hard." He rolls his eyes. "I told them I hadn't seen you."

"Yeah, thanks. I'd hope so."

"You gonna sit down or what?" You ask, annoyed that he's interrupting your movie. He huffs and joins you on the couch and you pass the joint to him.

"The fuck are we watching?" He raises an eyebrow. You stare at him for a second before answering.

"Firestarter."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he sighs.

"Yeah, I started thinking about it after I read your charges. Fucking idiot." You laugh. "Broad daylight is brutal."

"Their house was fine."

"Well, you can hide here as long as you need to. I'll be here for a few weeks. But I am throwing another get together tomorrow, so be down for that."

"Again?" He scoffs.

"Yeah. It's way more fun to party in this giant house than my fucking double wide."

"You live in a double wide trailer?"

"Yes. I got out on my own dime. Options are limited where I ended up." You always tell this story like a brag. It's something you're proud of. After all, it's a nice double wide. It's not even in a trailer park... This time.

"Hard." He mocks you and you laugh in response.

"So these are your two options? Party or a movie with barely any volume while you get high?" He leans across the couch to pass you the joint, unknowingly scooting closer with each reach.

"Normally I'm not talking over the movie so the volume is just fine." You shrug. He takes the hint and finally shuts up, watching the movie and keeping panicky eyes on the windows. By the time the joint is finished, the two of you are much closer than before. Not too close, but gravity seems to be doing its thing. Simon can finally see the small bruise under your eye.

"Is that from that guy?" He laughs.

"Yeah, I know. He tried his best," you join in the laughter. Simon raises a hand to brush his thumb over it, never minding to invade someone's personal space.

"There's not even a welt. What a fuckin' pussy," he says as he lowers his hand. You're not sure if you're blushing or not, but you do know that you're frozen for a moment after the sudden, close quarters. You may have grown out of a lot, but you're still pretty fucking awkward sometimes. Simon notices right away. God damn it.

"That's exactly what I said! There's nothing on my stomach either. It's like I fought a toddler." You laugh, your head is clearing up, but not for long. Simon leans in closely, sliding closer to you than before and invading your personal space much more boldly than when he touched your bruise.

"You know how to take a hit, huh?" He whispers, inches from your face. Your eyes are wide and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks when you feel his hand on your thigh.

"You're about to take a hit if you don't move that fuckin' hand," you snap with a wavering voice that you hope he doesn't notice.

"I'm just fuckin' with you. Had to find some way to do it. You're all... difficult now." He laughs at your still red face. He backs down and you roll your eyes, defeated by your own bodily reactions.

"You are God damn difficult, Simon." You jam your finger into his chest, sizing him up, invading his bubble. "You're difficult and it makes you angry. Now, I'm letting you hide in my parents house from the fuckin' police, so please, for the love of god, tone that fuck-shit down." He can't help but grin at the tables you've turned. Your forehead might as well be pressed to his as you tell him what for.

"Calm the fuck down, Y/N. I'm just fuckin' with you. Thanks for the safehouse." His thanks sounds like sarcasm, but you decide it's the best you'll get from him. He keeps his distance after that, but doesn't shift away from you. For the rest of the movie, you catch him stealing glances your way. He's silently reliving the moment you pushed back, a smile cracks across his lips, but you're too focused on the movie.

The two of you fall asleep before the credits roll. You're baked and glued to the couch, he's exhausted from running all day. It's barely dawn when Simon shakes himself awake, startled by something only a mind as paranoid and volatile as his could dream up. He looks at your sleeping form on the couch and checks his watch. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mumbles to himself. As he quietly steps toward the door, you call to him from the couch.

"You can shower here if you want. You look like shit. It'd probably be harder to spot you if you weren't filthy." Simon rolls his eyes, but you're right. You rise and stretch from your blanket cocoon. "Fuck, what time is it?"

"Early."

"Useful. The bathroom's down the hall to the right. Toss your clothes in the basket and set it outside."

"Alright," he huffs, unsure how to process your balance between "fuck you" and "I'll do your laundry for you so you can shower."

Simon leaves his clothes in the basket just like you asked and you toss them in the washer with a few of your clothes to fill it up. It'll take longer to wash and dry his clothes than it'll take for him to shower, so you rummage through some of your dad's PJs and leave a pair of soft pants and an old Harvard T-shirt in place of the basket. After a while, Simon emerges from the steamy bathroom, towel-clad. "Are you serious?" He asks, holding up the clothes you've left for him.

"Don't you wanna know what it's like to wear a Harvard shirt?" You jest. "It'll be another 30 minutes on your clothes." Simon rolls his eyes, and tosses the clothes on the couch.

"I'll wait." He takes a seat next to you, the towel secured around his waist. "Give me that." He takes the joint you've barely just started rolling out of your hands. It feels more like a "thank you" than a "I'll do it better" so you let him roll it. It's a gesture of kindness from him, and you accept it.

After a joint or two more, the buzzer sounds on the dryer. "I'll be right back, I threw some of my clothes in there too." You leave and return with a basket of fresh, clean, warm clothes. You dig through and find Simon's belongings, tossing them to him piece by piece. Once he slips off to the bathroom again, he comes back fully dressed. A cleaner, easier to look at version of himself.

"Thanks," Simon nods, but he doesn't retake his seat next to you. "I'll catch you later."

"You coming to the party? For the money?" You grin, secretly hoping to repeat your patio soiree from before.

"For the money." He chuckles as he steps out the door, leaving you in peaceful silence. You fall back asleep right away. Hours later, when you finally awaken, some people are already in the house.

"Jesus Christ, you guys don't knock or nothing?" You rub your eyes. "Don't fuck up my parents' house. I'm gonna go get ready."

"Yeah, yeah," your friends chant back, picking out music to play on the stereo. Once you're dressed and made up to your liking, you return to the party. The size of the crowd doubled in the hour it took you to get ready. As you play hostess, you're secretly searching each room and hallway for Simon, hoping he'd show up, though you're not sure why you're so eager. He was a dick for most of the time you've known him, but even back then, he's a very attractive man.

You pour a round of shots and pass them out, making sure each of your closest pals gets theirs first. You're holding onto one last one, searching for Simon, when you round the corner and see a familiar face. It's the short little shit you just fought the other night. "Aw, god damn it." You sigh, already anticipating the spectacle that's about to unfold.

"You got a lot of fucking nerve throwing another party after the shit you pulled," he says, cracking his knuckles, but you're looking down at him almost, so it's not very threatening

"What? Nerve? Aren't you trespassing right now? Get the fuck out of my house. We're all pushing 30." You're dumbfounded by this weird turf war happening inside your childhood home.

"You think just 'cause you're a broad, you can mouth off to anybody you want and get away with it."

"No, I didn't 'get away with it,' you left a faint little freckle on my cheek with that crabapple you call a fist." And with that, you catch another swing. Just as painful, and this time, no laughter follows. The shot glass is knocked from your hand and shatters on the floor just before you land, cutting up your hands pretty good. "Ah! God fucking damn it!"

"Fuck you, bitch!" The man shrieks, kneeling over you to beat you senseless, but he doesn't get a second hit in before someone's grabbed his shoulders and ripped him off of you. Simon.

He has the short man pinned against the wall receiving hit after hit to the face and stomach. "The fuck you come back here for, dumbass? Playground's already closed?" Simon taunts as he lands blow after blow. The rage in his eyes is palpable. You're on your feet in no time, folding your glass-filled hands in on themselves to swing brick-like fists at the troublesome man. It's you and Simon vs that guy until his friends eventually join in, knocking Simon around and finally dragging their friend out of the function. You wonder what the point of showing up was at all.

Simon helps you wash the glass and small traces of blood from your hands. There's only one significant cut, and a bandaid will have it fixed up in an instant. "Why and how did you manage to land on a pile of broken glass?" He asks, frustrated with the tweezers he's using to remove the tiny shards. "Who keeps inviting that fuckin' guy?"

"I saved you a, uh... I saved you a shot." Your voice lowers as the sentence goes on as you realize how desperate it sounds.

"Saved me a shot?" He laughs. "You were waitin' for me." He grins.

"Yeah, I was hoping to sweeten you up and get a heavier gram this time." You reach into your pocket for money and shove it at him, leaving your bandaged hand in front of him, awaiting your drugs.

"I'll share my personal with you, how about that?" He tilts his head up, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes as he raises a cigarette to his mouth. He already knows you'll be pulling him onto the patio, so he wastes no time lighting it.

"Sounds good, let's go." You lead him to the dark backyard and the two of you take a seat at the table, but you're a chair closer this time, making it easier to share the little mirror. You cut out two lines and pull your hair away from your face. Once the substance enters your body, you're ignited into conversation. You drone on and on, and Simon listens to every bit, quietly hitting his cigarette as he watches you go. Slowly, the adrenaline wears off, and the reality of the ache in your face settles in. "Oh, my God. My fucking face." You brush a finger over the inevitable darkening black eye on the right side of your face.

"Yeah, they uh, kinda fucked us up." Simon speaks through cigarette smoke.

"Do you even know who they are? The short guy?"

"You keep calling him short. He's your height." Simon squints.

"I just feel so much taller than him. Maybe it's the shoes, I don't know." You shrug, snorting another line with the side of your nose that hasn't swollen shut from the fight.

"It's clearly a sore spot for him, regardless."

"You jumped in," you smile, feeling as if this "friendship" has finally been validated.

"Said I would," Simon responds flatly. You roll your eyes and stare up at the night sky for a moment. Inside, the party rages on. Music thumps from indoors, but the sound is well sealed from where you two sit.

"This is gonna hurt so bad tomorrow, huh?" You ask, sniffing through your coke and blood-filled nose.

"Oh, yeah." A drag of his cigarette. "It's gonna fucking suck." He can't help but chuckle, having lived through an ass beating or two in his life.

"You gonna be here when I wake up?"

"Stop asking me so many fucking questions." He waves his hand dismissively.

"Not even to hide?" You smirk.

"I'll come back to hide." He exhales smoke through a small smile. You two are up long past sunrise, and when the last of the coke finally begins to wear off, you head to bed.

"Goodnight, Simon. Don't go to jail today." You chime behind you as you head down the hall. Simon scans the living room and it's emptier than the last party. As in, no one stayed the night. He shifts uncomfortably for a moment, unsure of his next move. Before he knows it, he's face down, passed out on your parents soft, leather couch.

You can hear the familiar sound of falling face-first into that exact couch, and you feel a sense of comfort knowing Simon won't be running from the cops while you sleep. He's gone when you wake up and to avoid any more drama, you hold off on planning your next party. Days go by, and your time house sitting dwindles. Simon hasn't come back, not even to hide.

Weeks pass and you're packing your belongings into your van, giving your parents a hug and assuring them that nothing went awry. They shower you in thanks and love, sending you on your way back home, states away. It feels bittersweet, and you wish you got to tell Simon you were leaving. Maybe give him a phone number or something stupid like that.

Before you leave town, you stop by a gas station to fill up and grab a snack. At the register, a tall man with long locs peers at you from behind the counter. "Is that everything?"

"Yeah, and the rest on pump four." The man nods at your request. You'd be lying if you said you weren't looking for Simon to pass by outside, or hopefully catch him walking somewhere so you can say bye. It's a strange feeling in you to want his presence. As you reminisce about the sheer rage in his eyes as he pulled that guy off of you during the fight, your eye catches something behind the register. A poster for some gritty, underground band. And opening for them... Psyops.

The cashier hands you your bags and you point to the poster. "What's the date on that? The concert thing."

"I think it's tonight," he answers flatly. Your shoulders fall, wondering if this late in the evening means you've already missed him. You shake these weird feelings from your head, reminding yourself that a few days of liking each other doesn't make up for all those years of torment. You continue down the road for a few miles more.

"God damn it!" You burst, cutting a U-turn in the middle of the street, barreling your van back into town. He said he'd jump in, and he did. You told him you'd go to a show.

(Part 2 is HERE!!)

#tw: drugs #dinner in america #john q #simon #simon dinner in america #dinner in america fan fic #dinner in america Simon x Reader #john q fanfic #hellfirecvnt #reader insert #dinner in america hulu #kyle gallner #simon from Dinner in America #tw drugs #tw drug use #kyle gallner fanfic

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Paper Hearts Part 3

Thank you for the lovely response to this story, it makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

This chapter is just 2000 words of Wayne and Eddie being sweethearts to Steve.

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie led the way through his trailer to the kitchen past Wayne, who was sitting in his armchair reading the newspaper, a defeated Harrington limping behind.

“What did I tell you about bringing home strays, Ed?” Wayne huffed, a small, gentle smile on his face.

Eddie shook his head, his curls flying. “I’m just watering and feeding this one before I return it back to its owners.”

Harrington blushed and ducked his head. “I got lost.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. He looked over at Eddie who nodded his confirmation.

“This is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie introduced them. “This is Steve Harrington, Uncle.”

Wayne’s eyebrows stayed raised. Of all the people Eddie could have brought home, he was pretty sure this was the biggest surprise.

“You got your car?” he asked.

“This dumbass was out running around with his head in the fucking clouds,” Eddie scoffed.

Wayne’s glance at Harrington was far more appraising. He looked him up and down, taking in the sweat on his brow, the limping, the slumped shoulders, and vacant expression.

“You do that often, son?” he asked Harrington, folding up his newspaper.

Harrington just shrugged. “I like running to get out of my head.”

Wayne licked his upper lip slowly, calculating. “Uh-huh.” He looked over at his nephew, who had his hands on his lower back and staring at the floor. “There is some leftover beef from Sunday.”

Eddie jumped excitedly. “Yes! That would be perfect.”

He loped over to fridge and pulled out a Tupperware container. He set it on the counter. He got out two plates and a glass. He filled the glass with water and handed it to Harrington.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he huffed. “Our water comes from the same place as yours does.”

Harrington rolled his eyes. “I’m not worried about you poisoning me.”

“You’d be the first,” Wayne said with a chuckle.

Harrington furrowed his brows and looked between them in confusion.

“Surely,” Wayne said in amusement, “you’ve heard about Ed’s reputation going to that school of yours.”

Harrington shook his head. He looked down at his feet. “I mean, I hear rumors and shit, but I really don’t believe that he chased three freshmen with a hunting knife.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You would pick the one rumor that was actually true.”

Harrington’s head snapped up. “What? Why would you do that?”

Behind him the microwave beeped and Eddie hurried to get their food out. He piled on the food and handed it to him.

“Because they were trying to buy drugs off me,” Eddie muttered as he handed Harrington a fork.

Harrington blinked at him a moment and then nodded. “Is there an age that you do start selling to high school students?” His eyes went wide and looked at Wayne in panic. “I mean, if you were selling drugs. Not that you do or anything.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I am more than perfectly aware of my nephew’s side business, thank you. I wish he didn’t have to do it, but he hasn’t had a lot of choices in the legal employment racket, not for someone like Ed. But sometimes a couple of grams sold is the difference between not having to chose to pay the water bill or the power bill.”

“Uncle Wayne and I set down ground rules when I started dealing,” Eddie huffed. “One of them was not selling to anyone under the age of sixteen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Harrington ate his food in silence.

“Do you need to call your parents?” Wayne asked. “Won’t they be worried where you are?”

Harrington shook his head. “They’re going to scream the same amount if I was five hours late or on time. I’d rather just deal with it the once thanks.”

Eddie and Wayne shared a worried glance over his head. Eddie was far too familiar with that nugget of parental discipline, because that’s exactly what Al would do with him.

“You ready to go, Stevie?” Eddie asked as he set their now empty plates in the sink.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll take care of it while you take him home.”

Harrington blinked up at Eddie after he used his given name. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Thanks for dinner and the water.”

Wayne nodded. Eddie led the way back out to the van.

“All righty,” he said, pulling his door closed. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, pretty boy.”

Harri–Steve blinked at him for a moment. “I thought everyone had been to my house at one point or another.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, dude?”

Steve just curled his hands on his lap and then mumbled directions.

Eddie cursed himself in his head. He had gotten the other boy to come out of his shell a little bit while they were talking to Wayne, but now the lid had slammed shut.

Because Steve was right. Even though he only invited the popular kids, his parties always exploded way past the original guest list. But Eddie had avoided it when it was Steve’s place though. Dealing at Hagan’s or any of Steve’s former pals was easy enough, his van fit right in with all the vehicles no problem. But in Loch Nora? Yeah... that was like showing up to a funeral in torn up jeans and smelling strongly like booze.

“Let’s just say my van is a little more conspicuous in Loch Nora,” he said after they had driven in silence for a couple of miles.

Steve’s head snapped up. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. My neighbors might not call the cops on any of my parties but they would absolutely be on the horn if they saw your van parked anywhere on the street.” He picked at his nails. “I keep forgetting shit like that.”

Eddie risked a glance at the other boy, whose shoulders were rounded against being bullied.

“Dude,” he huffed, “the whole fucking school saw what you looked like when you came back after tangling with Billy that kind of damage leaves lasting affects. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve scoffed. “Asshole fucking cheated. Took a plate to my head and then just started wailing on me. Probably would have killed me too.”

“So what stopped him?”

“Being tranq’ed by his step-sister,” he snorted. “She was visiting a friend of hers. One Billy didn’t approve of because of the color of his skin. Billy threatened to kill the kid, so I hit him. Would have won, too, if he hadn’t fucked me up with the plate.” He took a deep breath. “Anyways, they had some tranquilizers because one of their parents were having trouble sleeping. She grabbed one and jabbed it into his neck.”

“Pretty brave thing to do,” Eddie conceded. “Sounds like there were two badasses there that night.” Then he shook his head. “So you got the shit beat out of you for defending little sheep and Wheeler still went for Byers? I don’t know, man, sounds like she wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit her in the ass.”

Steve huffed out a breath of laughter before he caught himself. He hid his smile under his fist. “Something like that, yeah.”

They pulled up to his house and Steve let out this strange little pained noise. Like it was relief and disappointment all rolled into one. A sound Eddie was far too familiar with.

“My parents aren’t home.”

Eddie looked over at him in curiosity. “How can you tell?” Because yeah, the front lights were off and the house seemed quiet, Eddie knew these houses were big enough that if there was a light on in the back of the house, it couldn’t be seen from the road.

“The garage is closed,” Steve huffed. “They only close it when they leave. They have to show off to the whole neighborhood the cars they drive.”

Eddie blinked at Steve in confusion. “Aren’t they worried someone will steal their car?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s insured, plus they don’t believe anyone would rob them in their fancy house while they’re home.”

Eddie looked up at the large house, so big it could only really be called a mansion. “Are they stupid or arrogant?”

“Both.”

“Look, Steve,” Eddie said, stopping him briefly. “I need to apologize and every time I see you you distract me. So I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m the one that shoulder checked you the day you hurt your hand.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed dramatically.

“You see, you had this far off look my uncle gets sometimes and the best thing to do is make a noise or bump into him. Just something that reminds him that his not where ever his mind is and that’s in the present. But I heard these assholes saying that they got their kicks out of kicking your stuff and stomping on your hand and I realized that it was my fault that happened and I’m really, really sorry.”

Steve stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Hey, it’s not your fault, you were only doing what you thought would help. I wasn’t spacing out or whatever. I was just feeling sorry for myself over a stupid holiday. But apology accepted, I guess.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a little bit better about it.

Steve hopped out of the van and he turned back to Eddie. “Thanks for the ride, Eds.”

He slammed the door behind him and walked up to his big, dark, lonely, still house and Eddie felt a small pang of something like pity for the guy. And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.

When he got home, Wayne was waiting up for him.

“Did that boy get into any trouble when he got home?” were the first words out of his uncle’s mouth. Not so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘by your leave’.

Eddie shook his head. “They weren’t home. I don’t know if they went out to dinner without him or if they just went on one of their infamous business trips.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “What’s so infamous about them?”

“They leave so often,” Eddie murmured, “that Steve is pretty famous for the ‘rich kid, empty house’ trope you see movies these days.”

“He’s got friends he can stay with, doesn’t he?” Wayne pressed.

Again Eddie shook his head. “He blew up his friends group awhile back, called them all assholes and bullies over some chick. Then the chick broke up with him over the eldest Byers boy.”

Wayne patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Tell me about this Harrington kid. You used to all the time, ranting and raving about something or another that he did and then you just stopped.”

Eddie flopped down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “Like there wasn’t anything to tell after that, you know. He just faded into the background. Gave up his title of King of Hawkins High and then Friday happened.”

“And you found out he was being bullied,” Wayne finished. “I see. That’s got to be rough to go from being surrounded by people to not having anyone there for him.”

Eddie threw his head back onto the back of the sofa and let out a loud groan. “Like it’s my thing. Picking up the lost and the lonely. But this one comes with a lot more baggage than the others and I’m not afraid for me or the rest of my friends but...” He buried his fingers into his hair and screamed.

Wayne nodded. Eddie befriending Steve could make things worse for him and not better. But inaction might hurt the boy in the long run.

“Maybe do something for him that he doesn’t know it’s you,” he suggested to his nephew. “That way he knows he’s not alone, but your reputation won’t make things worse for him.”

Eddie frowned for a moment and then his eyes went wide. “Oh! I think I know exactly what to do!”

Wayne smiled at him. “I figured you would.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @swimmingbirdrunningrock

9- @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @moonshadows-13 @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

10- @slv-333 @ravenfrog

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

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satinslut · 8 months ago

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smoking w/ jjk guysss

Please this idea has been running through my mind and is literally so fucking self-indulgent but this shit is canon in my mind. idc what you say, I’d do some stupid ass shit to smoke with these dummies.

a lil nsfw so imma just say NO MINORS plssss

including: Choso, Gojo, Nanami, and Suguru

Choso

Choso is deffffffffffff a heavy smoker idc what you say, tell it to ya mama

Do you see how low his eyes stay???????

Has been smoking for a minute now and usually smokes daily

Keeps a dab pen on him at all times and defff has the full gram and not the half

Def would be a feen and use the lighter and/or sock method to get the last lil bit out

Mans definitely wakes and bakes, pre-rolls a blunt at night so he can wake up happy

Definitely says some dumb shit like “Thank you for the meal” before lighting up

The type to be like, “I’m going out to get groceries? Let’s load a bowl real quick.”

That or he’s smoking while walking to the store

Prefers smoking, specifically bongs, rather than anything else

Tried wax one time and swears he could understand Gojo’s infinity

Dropped his tray once while he was rolling and just wept in his seat, he didn’t cry he WEPT

You got to witness this atrocity and just pat his shoulder trying to console him

“I’m literally so sorry for your loss.”

Dude was fr tryna get the grinds out the carpet PLEASSSEE

Choso usually likes to smoke by himself, doesn’t really like having other people around when he smokes

Not on any selfish shit, but because mans just doesn’t want to be bothered and is comforted by his own company

That and he doesn’t like his brothers seeing him smoke

Likes to smoke with you though,

“You make me feel calm. It’s fun with you.” Said by Choso himself after you asked him why there was never anyone else around

Feel like Choso is an acts of service typa love language guy

Expect to NEVER have to roll your own blunts, load your own pipes or bongs, even grind up your own shit bc this man has it COVERED

Can and will stop you if he sees you tryna do anything besides sit there and look pretty

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it, loves when you roll his blunts for him,,thinks you look pretty, but he wants to do it for you

Likes to spoil you ofc so expect to have him buying all your snacks too after the both of y’all got the munchies

Feel like he’s a Green Tea Arizona, hot cheetos, and gummy worm typa guy when it comes to the lil pit-stops

That or some sorta hard candy cause he has an oral fixation and likes to keep his mouth busy so he won’t start chewing at his lips

Loves, loves, LOVES being outside when he’s high

Used to get really anxious cause he thought people could tell he was fucked up, but got over it after you told him that you couldn’t tell because he always seemed as such

He is but that’s besides the point

That means expect picnic dates in the park on the sunniest and warmest of days

Choso packed the lunch ofc and when he pulled out three of the most beautifully rolled and pearled joints and presented them to you with the most goofiest grin plastered on his face, you only fell deeper in love with him on the spot

Just because he holds an affinity for being outside while high doesn’t mean he dislikes being inside

Choso has the most immaculate music taste, Gege told me so

Source? Trust me bro

But no seriously this man has such a diverse taste in music and the first time he put on the playlist you swear you were in a trance on the first song

Cue him saying some shit like, “Do you wanna listen to music and smoke?”

Y’all fr just got back from smoking at the park, pls choso

Ofc listening to music and smoking turns into Choso straddling you on his lap shotgunning smoke into your mouth, one hand on your ass the other holding the burning blunt,,,,but that’s a story for another time bc lemme fr not get into this right now lmaoooooo

Not necessarily clingy when he’s high but really just wants to be in your presence ??? like don’t leave him pls

Let him rest his head between your thighs and play with his hair or else he’ll start pouting

Baby just wants your undivided attention is all :((((

Gojo

Now Gojo on the other hand is a social smoker, can handle himself just fine…kinda ??

Like he just gets really fucking quiet when he’s high I feel, not eerie or sad or anything like that, but just…his brain is finally calm!!!

Prefers drinking over smoking anyday, but that don’t mean he’s gonna refuse the blunt when it’s coming his way !!

Especially not if Shoko rolled it, god-tier is this woman, skilled with her fingers (lmao)

Used to roll her own cigarettes when she first started smoking and that just transferred over into the blunts

But Gojo just gets super quiet and calm when he’s fucked up, he can just relax yk???

Can’t tell if he’s sleep or not bc of his dumbass mask and glasses, so when he yells at you for tryna skip him don’t get upset lmao

Cue Nanami saying some shit like “While I appreciate you being quiet for once, how can we tell if you’re fucking sleep or not?”

If he’s not quiet then he’s whining in your ear about how hungry he is

His sweet tooth just gets 10x worse when he’s gone and is INSUFFERABLE about it

Has gotten to the point where you’ve just started keeping sweets in your bag for him/have a whole ass cabinet dedicated to snacks for Gojo

Said prior but he’s only a social smoker,,but will ONLY smoke with people he’s comfortable with/know

Only bc the very first time he got high his Six Eyes was freaking him tf out

“I think I just saw a life in this Infinity where I didn’t have this power” -Gojo after three hits

He’s so ??not annoying?? When he’s high and you honestly think it’s the weirdest thing cause he’s always so !!!!!! yk??

Definitely clingy so expect to be holding his hand or having him follow you all the way to the bathroom, there’s literally no in between

Likes to stay in when he’s high, going out messes with his head a lil too much and makes him a lil anxious

Definitely schedules when he’s gonna smoke if it’s just you two so expect to have it turn into a lil stay-in date night

Can and will leave his smoking stuff at your place so he has an excuse to come over, or will feign that he’s out so he can come see you

Fr would hit you with some sorta ‘roll me a blunt. i’m otw.’ typa text message

Hates rolling, packing, grinding doing quite literally ANYTHING with his weed, and you’ve only spoiled him with how you do any and all of it

Loves, loves, lovessss watching you roll for him

Sits next to you and gives you lil kisses of appreciation or hands you things you need

Will fr interrupt anything you’re doing and just sets the stuff down saying sum bs like ‘but you’re the best at it’

Doesn’t fuck with edibles at ALLLLLL stays the literal fuck away from them cause his anxiety spikes so high and he gets hella paranoid

Prefers smoking cause he can at least somewhat measure out how much he’s intaking

Cause if he eats an edible he WILL eat the whole thing and then another cause ‘this shit isn’t even hitting’

Nanaminnnnn

See, in my head Nanamin gets even more brash when under the influence

Still stoic and coldish demeanor, but definitely not presenting himself as such,,more sarcastic than anything

Like he already doesn't care what he says, but it’s always so ???formal??? whereas when he’s high it’s not so much

Hence the curse words

Mans would say some of the most offhand, outta pocket shit with the straightest face and then ask why the whole groups laughing at him BAHHAHA

Half of me wants to say he’s a social smoker like Gojo, but the other half of me is like,, mans is overworked and burnt out asf he smokes NIGHTLY

But no seriously the first time Nanami got high with you was so funny cause him being…him and a literal fucking square had everyone thinking he wouldn’t EVER touch any drugs unless a doctor prescribed them yk??

Nahhh mans had everyone in literal awe over how he came to the sesh fully prepared

That and surprised he showed up at all

Had the premium rolling papers, designer fucking tray, and the biggest bag of weed that any of y’all had saw

“I forgot my automatic grinder, did anyone bring one cause I honestly don’t feel like pulling this shit apart.”

The shit Nanami smokes is honestly some of the best shit you’d ever smoked tbh

Like it’s the highest quality you can get, mans hand picked the nuggets he wanted like it was that typa good quality shit

It’s such an intensely complex yet satisfying high and the group be tryna mooch off of this man so much but he only ever let’s you get what you want

Smokes you out in his benz daily

Like he’ll literally come pick you up after he gets offa work to like?? Go get some food or something and he’ll be like:

“Pick a spot to eat and we’ll smoke in the parking lot before going in.”

He’s much more touchy, not like Gojo, but will definitely be keeping a hand on your thigh, lower back

Also think he’s a really light sleeper/it’s hard for him to go to bed so he eats an edible before bed, or will wake up in the middle of the night to smoke

Doesn’t smoke in the house, he’s too bougie for that, but redid his whole balcony so he could smoke out there no matter the weather

Such a smart man

Likes sitting out there with you, especially during the summer nights a blunt passed between the both of you

Like to think he likes smoking more than edibles because of the relaxation of the pull when inhaling, but honestly he holds both to equal standards

Makes his own infused oil and since he cooks nightly (almost) he’ll sometimes put it in the food

Suguruuuuuuu

He’s an irregular smoker

A couple times through the week to help with his anxiety and insomnia

That or he just really loves the head high of it all, helps his brain go mute and that’s just amazing

Only takes a couple hits before he’s like ‘i’m good’

Low tolerance ass

But no seriously he just knows his limits and will NOT go past them

A rule he made for himself after he had hella paranoia after smoking with Gojo

Then again, Gojo was saying some off the wall shit and had dude scared as fuck

On top of that, mans refuses to smoke alone, it’s a no go for him everytime

Feels weird when he smokes alone, gets too in his head

Likes to talk about the most randomest of things, definitely sum philosophical and controversial

Type to smoke and then either binge watch a show with half lidded eyes, or knock tf out

Just know he’s not gonna be moving an INCH

Clingy as well, but like you’re getting suffocated typa clingy

Expect to be literally engulfed by this man

Like full body weight on you

Will not let you get up and if you do he’s literally following you with his back pressed against you, dead serious

Like you were getting up to cook once after yall had smoked and from bedroom to kitchen was Suguru literally attached to your back

Keeps his arms hooked around your waist or hips and face in your neck

Skin to skin contact is a must so expect his hands to be under your clothes and not even in a sexual way, he just fr finds it comforting

Favorite is to circle your hips with his hands

Has the patience to grow his own stuff, esp since he barely smokes like that

Ain’t boutta spend all of that money at the dispo tf and just likes knowing that it’s his

Has names for all of his plants idc

Think he’d like tinctures too tbh

Adds in his morning/nighttime tea sometimes

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britishassistant · 2 months ago

Text

Three Little Words (x Infinity)

Yuu looks him in the eyes and says, solemnly, “I love you.”

The notebook page they’re holding up reads “Pick a god and start fucking praying Trappola.”

In his defense, it was an accident!

So maybe he thought it’d be funny to sneak a frog eye down the back of Grim’s lab coat as revenge for his stolen bread earlier.

And maybe Grim had shrieked, leaping up and clinging onto Deuce’s face as he tried to escape from the slimy sensation.

And maybe Deuce, blinded and suffocated by fur, had begun flailing wildly and managed to knock Yuu into the cauldron where the potion they were meant to make was brewing.

“So,” He finishes with a flourish. “It was all an innocent mistake! No one’s to blame here.”

“NO, YOU’RE DEFINITELY IN THE WRONG!!” Deuce and Grim yell.

“I love you.” Yuu seethes through gritted teeth. “I love you, I love you, I—”

“Down.” Professor Crewel’s riding crop thwacks the table in front of them. “You bad boys are certainly deserving of some discipline, and remedial lessons. The potion you were meant to be brewing was one of False Appearance, created by the benevolent Witch of the Seas so that those she helped could appear as their love’s ideal.”

His crop hovers an inch or two away from Ace’s nose. “So tell me, puppy, what did you add to the draught that left the Prefect like this?”

“Uh.” Ace wracks his brain. “I, I mean, we followed the recipe exactly, right? Two grams of walrus whiskers—”

“Grams?” Deuce interrupts. “Wasn’t it milligrams?”

“What? No.” Ace points to the worksheet where the instructions are listed. “Look, it says g, not mg. How’d you add a whole letter that’s not there?!”

“Oh.” Deuce has gone pale, eyes flicking over the rest of the list. “B-but we did everything else right, Professor! We added the apple blossom petals, the ground seashell was meant to come later, the muse’s heartstrings…eh? We didn’t have a vial of distorted mirror shards, did we?”

“Oh, s’that what that was?” Grim folds his paws. “The silvery stuff was so sweet and crunchy, I thought it was a snack for us.”

“Since when does Crewel give us snacks during class?!” Ace hisses. “Also if you thought it was food, why didn’t you share, huh?!”

“I love you.” Yuu’s head is buried in one hand. With the other, they scrawl, “I’m throwing you all out of a window.”

“It’s almost impressive.” Professor Crewel raises an immaculate eyebrow. “Through your thorough botching of this recipe, you bad puppies have managed to create an entirely new potion that renders the drinker unable to say anything other than declarations of love. If it had any practical use, we’d be talking about submitting your results to an academic forum.”

“However, given how little walrus whisker was put in, it’s difficult to say if these compelled confessions are true or false,” Ace feels a chill go down his spine.

The professor glares at them. “I can say that it will be exceptionally tricky to craft an antidote, especially given that we have no way of knowing how permanent these effects are.”

“I love you.” Yuu’s voice is strangled as they write. “I love you.”

“What’s going to happen to me then? Am I stuck like this?”

“Hopefully not, but we’ll see.” Professor Crewel sighs. “I will do my upmost to create a draught that can reverse these effects. You bad boys are to serve detention to help me do so, and supervise the Prefect at all other times to ensure their condition remains stable, and that they do not cause unnecessary turmoil to others. Understood?”

The four of them share a Look.

Crewel pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering. “By the Seven, I’m too old for this shit.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twisted wonderland yuu #villainous paranoiac yuu #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst grim #divus crewel #twst divus #birthday drabble #partially inspired by old Hetalia comics and tropes #twst x yuu #kinda

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hobies-princealbert · 2 years ago

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Head Empty. Thinking about high!plug!fontaine n high!reader. He’d def be the plug that flirts with her and gives her deals and one day he asks her to smoke wit him for free and they just start making out in his car listening to music. 😱😱😱

gurl the new pfp frightened me a bit ngl 💀💀

but coming right up! i took some creative liberties cuz i kinda forgot to double check what your ask said. im srry its just once i got that ball rolling, i couldn't stoppp ( ´,_ゝ`)

plug! fontaine x high! reader | (the nsfw is below the cutting off)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎

♤ taine wasn't exactly your first choice for a plug. he was a well known dealer in the glen, but the things he was known for made you hesitant. he was a no nonsense type dealer, he gives a price, you pay on time. if you can't do as simple as that then you wasting his time. and knowing you were tight on money sometimes, you decided it best to stick to the plugs you knew.

♤ but twelve wack ass joints later, you found yourself sitting in a certain green cadillac that you never thought you'd set foot in. both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, only a few feet away from each other.

♤ you patiently watched as he tried to light his spliff with the faulty lighter. growing more frustrated, he soon tossed the lighter onto the dash, then turned to you expectantly. and as if you could read his mind, you pulled your lighter and held it up for him to take.

♤ he stared at you for a bit, you felt as if you body was on fire. he had a pair of the scariest eyes you've ever seen. and he kept those eyes on you the entire time. not once looking away.

♤ you felt him wrap around your wrists. he pulled your hands closer to his face. your entire body became solid rock. all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. the grip on your wrists were slack, giving you enough leeway to pull back if you wanted to. but something about the way he looked at you, made you stay still for him.

♤ he motioned for you to light the joint. you obliged. the orange glow of the flame made his eyes even more sinister. god he's terrifying. hot but, terrifyingly hot. once it was lit, he leaned back and let your wrist fall from his grasp. he took two puffs before he passed it over. " 'ere. take it. ' tell me if 'sgood enough."

♤ your breath was shaky as you inhaled the smoke. it was strong, definitely would get you fucked up in less than a minute. you handed it back to him. "you barely took tha' shi'. come 'ere."

♤ he placed the blunt back between his lips, as he settles one of his hands behind your head. "was he gonna gimme a shotgun right now. he's not....is he?" you let your brain rambled for bit till a low "open" brought you back.

♤ taine never does this, especially with cilents. but he took an interest in you. you seemed nervous, unlike most of his clients that just want their quick fix. and it helps that you weren't bad looking either. kinda cute in fact.

♤ but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up from watching your pretty little lips not taking his blunt properly. that shit ain't cheap. but you took the shot gun gave you pretty well. he saw how the smoke made your eyes a little teary, so he wiped a couple away before he let you go.

♤ you stared at him for a bit. he found you amusing that's for sure. and while he was trying to subside a smirk, you were trying to calm the ache between your legs. god you needed to get out this car before you did something you regret. but would you regret it? from the way his pants seemed to be stiffening, he probably felt the same way.

♤ reaching into his jacket he pulled a small plastic baggy,,that looked to contain at least 5 grams. your eyes went wide. this was way more than the agreed amount, that's at least $45 bucks, you didn't have that much on you. shit shit shit.

♤ "easy ma, this one's on the house" and with that you became one of his regulars. and his favorite at that.

♤ of course you became his favorite. i mean he'd never let a customer come over his house. much less one sit on his couch, smoke his blunt and watch a show on his tv.

♤ he certainly wouldn't let a customer stretch their legs across his lap either. or let one inch closer to him than appropriate, to the point where they made it onto his lap. he didnt mind, it definitely did help him relieve the ache between his legs. and he wasn't opposed to the way you let him kiss alongside your jaw, and even suck a couple marks into your skin.

♤ no regular of his ever let him pull down their shorts and toss them to god knows where. he's never gotten on his knees and licked a fat stripe along over their panties. never has he had to pull said panties to the side just so he could finally get a good look at how at your cunt.

♤ you were the only one who's clit he's mouthed at till his jaw ached. he didn't stop till he had to wrap his hands around your hips to hold you still.

♤ never once as taine let a regular, eagerly lick his precum from the slit to the point where he'd lull his head back everytime he felt their tongue dip into his slit. or had one force his cock into their mouth till the tip hit the back of their throat. and they stayed deepthroating him till he finally released. or had one lick up every last drop of cum that could find. no matter if it some was on his stomach, chest, thigh or on their face. he's never given a regular a couple puffs of his joint as a reward for sucking him to completion.

♤ he wondered if his weed made you like this. was it so good that it made you do your best to take him to the hilt, even though you could barely take a proper breath. probably it was the reason he'd take a minute or two cause the way your walls squeezed him, he swore he was gonna cum inside you right then and there.

♤ was his shit so good that it made you cry out his name and claw at his back with every thrust. had him having to slap your tits whenever you looked too far gone. make him tell you to how good you were, or that from the way your walls started to push him out, you were close. make him coo at you whenever you finally came, so you knew how proud he was. maybe it was why you bared the overwhelming sensation that your release brought so he could reach his edge. maybe that what made you mumbled about him cumming inside you.

♤ tempting but he preferred to release on your cunt so you could reach your hand down and desperately collect his droplets into your mouth. god he loved when you did that. he especially when you parted your slit so he could get one last lick before he let you suck it off his tongue.

♤ never had he had a regular make him feel that good to the point he gave them free weed.

#fontaine x reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine they cloned tyrone #fontaine x black reader #☆° via writes °☆#fontaine smut

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