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blkkizzat · 7 months ago

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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 2

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol

Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him.

You couldn’t go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies.

Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s sorority activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president.

However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played.

Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, but it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now.

Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first.

You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.

Choso was a dealer.

He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.

The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by.

You huffed.

Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts paint the absolute worst scenarios.

This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage.

Would he be there now doing another deal?

Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?

You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that.

You knew he wasn’t.

Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.

But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he?

Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever.

You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you.

So what if you didn’t have Choso?

You should be content with life.

You had everything you’d ever wanted right now.

You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake!

Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term.

Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship.

You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.

Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you.

Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment.

A lot.

You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???

You sighed.

No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.

Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too?

Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often roped in Choso as well, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for.

Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors.

With them you were just you and they had accepted you.

But had you accepted them?

Shit.

Yeah you had fucked up big.

You knew you needed to talk to Choso and if you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house.

Although maybe if Yuji ans—

“—Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”

Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters—Brianna—rudely snaps their fingers in your face.

Bitch.

She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you.

Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.

“What IS it Brie!?”

Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.

“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”

Brianna huffed accusingly.

“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.”

Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.

“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”

Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.

“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?”

“E-Excuse me!?”

Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people.

“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”

The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response.

You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.

This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that.

The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned.

Yet your own guilt stops you.

Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.

That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though.

“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”

Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana, as well as the rest of your sisters, were stunned into silence.

Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.

“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.

“Oookay and—?”

“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...”

Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.

“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and we don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”

You suck your teeth in annoyance.

Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.

“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.”

Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you.

You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you.

“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”

“We already promised everyone we’d have it!”

“Please Prez!”

The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.

“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.”

The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement.

Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet.

You’d die before admitting that though.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“Knew you would Prez!”

Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten.

You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.

Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button.

What if he ignored you this time too?

Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?

Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off.

Choso hadn’t blocked you yet.

Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.

Hadn’t Choso punished you enough?

Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send.

You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.

You deserved that, you supposed.

But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.

At least he was answering you though.

You threw your phone across your bed.

Well that went super.

You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered.

Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.

You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer.

Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.

With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.

That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you.

As in your sorority house.

On Friday.

The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger.

Goddamnit.

Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers.

Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.

“Oh! It's you! Finally!”

Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.

“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?”

Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile.

“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”

Her boys?

Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor.

Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten.

Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis.

Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd.

Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents.

Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.

The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage.

The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.

Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you?

Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot.

Were you that clueless?

Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.

This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether.

Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run.

Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass if he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.

Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower.

Oh?

Choso grins.

Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh!

Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over.

What the hell was Choso even doing with her?!

You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch as he reclines against the house and cheers cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot.

One without an ounce of shame at that.

You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance.

Stupid cunt ass bitch.

You know it's just to spite you too.

Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling.

If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.

She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?!

Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you.

Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously.

Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.

Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.

You loudly clear your throat.

“AHEM!”

Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.

“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!”

“Whatever, Brie.”

You sneer at her.

Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more.

The whore was still touching up on him.

“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”

Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?!

Did this whore just call him Cho?!

That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!

Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even.

Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment:

To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching.

You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.

You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three.

You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!

Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!

But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.”

Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.

THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?!

Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.

You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.

“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!”

Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.

“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”

You stiffened.

Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you.

“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”

Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.

“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”

Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.

Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him.

But you’re frozen.

Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter.

However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.

“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”

Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is.

“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”

Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear.

“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”

Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.

And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.

More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.

However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.

Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.

“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”

You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house.

Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him.

Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip.

Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well.

Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.

You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.

“Which one?”

Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.

Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you.

Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.

Would he really take the money and go just like that?

Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house.

It was so you though.

Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.

“Yo Prez, the money.”

His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast.

Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.

Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time.

Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom.

Choso swallows hard.

Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets.

You had to be doing this on purpose.

Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.

Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him.

Only you could ever affect him in this way.

After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.

“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”

Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.

“Took ya long enough…”

Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.

Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.

“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”

“Playing?”

You question acting coy.

“This is just business right Choso?”

You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again.

And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat.

“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”

Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.

“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”

You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.

“Hmmm, do I though?”

Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games.

That’s all he ever was to you, a game.

“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”

Damn. Well you got 'em there.

Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”

Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.

“Gimme your grinder.”

Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.

“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”

Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out.

“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”

Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Ungrateful? For what!?

He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you!

“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”

You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.

You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.

“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ��oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”

Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.

“Whose number?”

Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away.

Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias.

He’d never even saved it.

The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.

In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival.

Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”

Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.

“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”

You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again.

You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.

“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”

You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind.

‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’

Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences.

Fuck.

Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it.

Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl.

“Brats get greens this time.”

I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens.

But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.

Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs.

Damn, this shit was dank as hell.

You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.

Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.

“See Prez? True pressure.”

You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.

“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”

Choso rolls his eyes.

You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.

Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth.

However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching.

The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.

God, Choso is so sexy.

Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach.

You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now.

There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more.

The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself.

Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood.

Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.

You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time.

And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.

Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you.

The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.

Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow.

“Yo!..is that my shit?”

Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that.

“Oh, is that yours?”

Choso deadpans.

“So you listen to RHCP now?”

“Maybe…”

You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.

However with this Choso has hit his limit.

To him you hadn’t changed.

Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?

He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.

“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”

Choso grabs his jacket.

“Listen, I gotta g–”

“—w-wait!”

You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something.

It was now or never.

“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”

You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless.

For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.

“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”

You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.

“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”

Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him flexes.

“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”

You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued.

“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”

Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you.

Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.

“Choso I–”

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”

You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.

“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”

Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.

Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path.

“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”

Choso isn’t impressed.

“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”

You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight.

You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize?

“But I am sorry!”

Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.

“Whatever you say, Prez.”

There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.

“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”

You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.

“What...Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”

“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”

Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice.

Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.

But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.

“Then quit.”

Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.

“H-huh? W-What?!”

“You heard me princess— quit.”

Could you really just quit?

Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now.

How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?

“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”

“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”

Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.

Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.

“–Ight then.”

Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer.

You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.

“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”

There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection.

Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob.

He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.

Still does.

Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline.

Like you actually needed him in your life.

Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.

But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I said let go!”

“NO!”

Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you.

He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him.

Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.

“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”

Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.

“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”

You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs.

Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—

“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”

Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission.

Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time.

“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.

“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”

Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.

You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.

Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.

“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”

Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.

Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again.

There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front.

“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”

The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back.

Love, eh?

An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do.

“Yeah princess, you really love me?”

Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you.

Had he forgiven you though?

Well, not exactly.

A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.

Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser.

Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence.

You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you.

However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you.

And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.

Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you.

But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.

PART 3

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!

⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue

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naffeclipse · 8 days ago

Text

Lone Mistletoe

Reader x Rich!Sun & Moon

Commission Info

This request was made by the darling @deliasmoothie for a little Christmas date centered around her Rich Boys AU and a reader who owns a bakery! After a late closing, the reader gets a visit from millionaire heirs Sun and Moon and a reminder that they have a very special evening planned. The lovely artwork is done by @deliasmoothie as well! Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

———

You’re late.

You scramble to put away the dough that will rise softly through the night in the storage area. The clatter of baking sheets echoes over the faint jingle of Christmas music which plays in the entrance of the bakery. Gathering bags of empty flour that were left undisposed, you throw those into giant waste bins and rush to clean off counter tops before muttering under your breath that the front needs to be swept lest customers enter tomorrow morning and find dirty floors.

A glance to the clock quickens your already frantic heart rate. You should already be out the door, dressed for a fine night of dining and whatever plans your dates may have. Oh, you’re going to be disappointing.

A nervous perspirant begins under your pits as you frantically fly through closing chores. Your employees would usually be more than happy to finish everything up without you, but one called out for the day citing a family emergency, and the other needed to go home early for the sake of a sick child. You are left to stack up the jars of ginger spice and vanilla used in gingerbread men and Christmas cookies respectfully and set them where they belong.

The minutes turn into half an hour. You’re going to melt into a puddle on the floor but you won’t allow another mess to be made when you just finished sweeping. Snagging your phone after leaning the broom against the wall, you begin punching in a quick text of explanation and apologies when the front door opens with a soft jingle from the welcome bell.

You curse under your breath. You should have locked it by now if your mind wasn’t cutting through the checklist of things needing to be done.

“I’m sorry,” you call out as you walk to the counter. “We’re closed—”

You stop short, the breath caught in your throat.

Two handsome animatronics stand in the lobby of your bakery. Among the Christmas decor of candy canes stuck to the window and boughs of holly hanging along the walls, they stand in glamor and confidence.

One animatronic sports a crown of sun rays around his head, sharp and brightly yellow, with a grin to match. His pale blue optics lack the sunglasses he would so often sport during summer. He wears a stylish long coat of red, with a white shirt sporting a high collar, and brown slacks, all done in a bold and daring style. The other holds a crescent marking upon his face, half silver, half dark, with a deep blue nightcap trailing down his back decorated in stars. He dons a black coat, simple yet striking, and a deep blue turtleneck sweater and dark trousers. They share matching figures of lithe limbs and slender waists, their clothes accenting every handsome part of who they are.

Your dates.

Most importantly, the heirs of a national billion-dollar company.

“Sweetie pie?” Sun laughs with equal affection and concern. His blue eyes are wide upon you. “Are you alright?”

Your hand immediately flies to your hair. It is a mess of wisps and strands escaping from the messy bun you had it pinned into today.

Moon looks around the shop, his brow quizzical, as if searching for a threat before his gaze rests on you. His expression softens.

“Sun, Moon? What are you two doing here?” Your attention slips past them to the open windows. You quickly rush forward. They step apart to let you fly between them, and watch as you quickly yank down the blinds and lock the front door.

They can’t be seen here. Your bakery is small, hardly a blip on the map, and people don’t know who the heirs are dating—though the tabloids have speculated who their newest beau may be.

You made it clear to Sun and Moon when they first asked you out for a little coffee date over this very same counter that you would go with them because you enjoy their company, not the names they carry nor the fortune they hold. The public, however, will assume the worst: you’re in it to make your bakery known and catch more sales. Or perhaps, the opposite. The heirs are lording over you with their black credit cards, enticing you into their demands.

Neither is true. Regardless, you don’t want them spotted here with you, alone.

You turn around and huff a breath, pushing a wisp of hair back from your face.

“Cinnamonroll, you are late for dinner, and the restaurant is only a few blocks from here.” Moon steps forward, his hands reaching for you. His pale pupils track you with a gentle study. “We were concerned.”

You keep trying to power walk back behind the counter but another set of arms stop you gently.

“Sweetie pie, breathe for a moment.” Sun stands over you. His hands hold your arms gently, keeping you in place. “It’s alright. They’re not going to withdraw our reservation.”

He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You flush, bowing your head slightly. This was not how the evening was supposed to go.

“I’m sorry.” You confess what happened throughout the day, losing your employees one by one until you were left to close.

“Do you need any help?” Moon steps closer. He brushes a hand against your cheek. When he draws his touch back, you find pale flour on the tips of his silver digits. His grin is mischievous but sweet when he chuckles. “Messy little treat, aren’t you?”

A deep pink fills your face as your heart swoons within you.

“No, no,” you shake your head fiercely, “I mean—I’m done, I just… Can you give me a few minutes to get ready?”

“Of course,” they answer in unison.

You look between both of them, a sweetness filling your mouth as your shoulders lower in relief. You dust your hands together. With that, you fly behind the counter and to the upper floor where your apartment is located.

Dinner is waiting.

Dinner is, as always, incredible. You’re not sure how Sun and Moon find the most delicious—and expensive—restaurants but they manage to surprise you each and every time. Of course, you almost fall out of your chair when the bill is brought and Sun flips out a sleek, black credit card without glancing at the numbers to resume asking about your thoughts on the holiday season—and how you would like to spend it. Moon in the same fashion orders a few desserts for you to try at your leisure while candlelight softly flickered over the table.

Now, you walk softly between them, both of your hands occupied by long and large digits cradling your gloved hands. The air nips at your nose. Snow litters the park plaza as around you, people skate on an ice rink set before a towering Christmas tree and couples huddle close together, sipping hot cocoa.

You have to crank your neck back to take in the majestic glow and glitter of the decorated tree in the pitch black evening. Lights twinkle like starlight and golden garland wraps its thick, evergreen limbs. Tinsel shines like silver against its emerald dark hue. Ornaments, large and painted in rich blues, greens, and reds, hang to the edges.

Sun and Moon shelter you in their warmth. Their coats, made of fine material with brand names that look far too French and expensive to be something you ever hope to possess, drape against you. Sun lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. Moon rubs your palm, ensuring you keep warm despite the frigid night.

To your relief, no one seems to notice them. Of course, it helps that you and your dates are swallowed up in scarfs and hats, but you find yourself prickling with slight anxiety while glancing around. It’s the same nervousness that has plagued you throughout the entire evening.

You feel your best when you’re alone with Sun and Moon, with no eyes upon you, judging and deeming what is right and what is wrong. All you know is that it feels good when you hear them laugh or they ask you how another busy day was at the bakery.

That should be all that matters, but your self-conscious fears are a niggling thing in the back of your mind.

Moon shares a glance with Sun, who gives a slight nod. He then suggests taking a walk further down the park, where there are less people gathering under the light of the tree and watching the ice skaters.

You’re more than happy to.

A few little shops are sprinkled along the path turning deeper into the snowy covered park. Moon asks if you would like hot cocoa or a new pair of ice skates. You politely decline. Sun says they might need to buy you a new coat since you’re shivering so much, but again, you shake your head with a smile.

They like to give. This is not a manner of ego and flaunting, but a manner of kindness, you’ve learned.

The soft silence is muffled by the white frost decorating the ground. Moon and Sun clutch your hands a little tighter whenever patches of ice pop up along the sidewalk. In the peace and stillness, your eyes fall upon a snow-white arch down the path you take. Hung in the center of it, tied with red ribbon, is mistletoe.

Your ears warm despite the sub-zero temperatures. Glancing between your dates, you nervously rub at their fingers. Sun and Moon slow, their eyes landing on the very same plant.

“There is something we can give you, sweetie pie,” Sun declares as he begins to stride forward, pulling you along with him.

“Oh, Sun,” you try to protest while struggling to hide your flustered tone. “What if someone sees?”

“It’s only us, cinnamon roll,” Moon rolls low over his tongue. “Don’t worry.”

You blush fiercely. Reaching the white arch, Sun and Moon stop. Your heart beats heavy within you while softly, Sun face faces you. Moon slips behind you, his touch resting on your hips. You begin to warm despite the chill, afraid you look pink from head to toe.

You trust them both. A certainty clings to you that you are safe in the quiet of the night and the cold of the snow so long as you have them.

Sun cups your cheek in his palm. His gaze glimmers gently while he leans in closer. You find his hand and tuck it over your heart, clinging to his fingers as if you’re afraid to lose him. Maybe you are.

But every thought within you fades when his lips touch yours. He pushes gently into your affection. A slow pull of his mouth teases you before he returns to reassure you that he is here to stay. You taste him. Confidence and want burn together in how he effortlessly strokes your cheek and tilts your head slightly in his soft fervor.

Pulling back, he sighs while brushing his thumb over your lips. You hold his gaze despite the heat in your cheeks.

His hands rest on your shoulders. Moon, however, gently twists your hips until you’re facing him. Sun’s hands remain on you, falling down your spine.

Moon’s gaze is warm and heated in the dark. Under the mistletoe, he leans in closely as he takes your chin in his hand. Head tilted up slightly by his touch, your lips part. He leans closer, hovering above your mouth while his eyes study the shape of it.

His optics close as his mouth claims yours. You follow into the sweet darkness, your head tilting back at his firm but rich affection. He pushes and pulls against you as steady as the tide. His other hand remains on your hip, stroking you softly underneath the layer of your coat.

When he breaks the kiss with reverence, you breathe out mist. Floating upon a hazy, sweet cloud, you drift between their celestial bodies as they cuddle you close under the mistletoe.

“Merry Christmas,” they whisper to you, one voice in each ear.

You hum a happy sound.

“Merry Christmas.”

#naff's writing commissions #rich boys au #get yourself two boys who will spoil you rotten!#they really just want to give you everything <3 #naff writing

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firelordsfirelady · 9 months ago

Text

IV. Outburst

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1167

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here.

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed.

Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it.

The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket.

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.

Despite the banter from Zuko, I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.

With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.

The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.

While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.

That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.

“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.

“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”

“You’re prancing around this ship like it’s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”

Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.

I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.

After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing

#avatar imagine #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #destined to be yin and yang

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alottiegoingon · 11 months ago

Text

totally my fault

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: after winning the state championship, you and lottie decide to celebrate it by baking cupcakes for the team and it goes awfully amazingly wrong.

warnings: fluff, lottie being a brat, reader is a yellowjacket, established relationship, characters are aged up and in college, the yellowjackets are also in uni, reader and lottie being awful bakers, nsfw content (mdni), vaginal fingering and oral (lottie receiving), praise kink?, cursing, reader being slightly mean during sex but a softie overall, prob a bunch of english mistakes

you were beyond excited! the yellowjackets had won one of the most important matches ever, the one that would decide if you guys would go to the nationals. it wasn't very common to see many women playing soccer and you were more than proud to be part of the team and also prove everyone how you were just as good as the stupid boys from wiskayok high. (you guys were so much better).

to celebrate, you and your girlfriend lottie decided to bake at your place after practice. even before meeting lottie, baking was your thing. it first started as a way to have fun as a kid, creating new recipes and seeing the results of it. you would feel like doctor frankenstein wearing pigtails. then, as you grew older, it became a way to deal with every single feeling of yours. happy because you did well in a test? brownie day. upset because you got grounded? that's okay, you didn't need tv when you could have warm cookies coming straight out of the oven.

"shit, we forgot the cupcakes!" you gasp, practically jumping out of the couch to run towards the oven. you and lottie had just put the first batch of vanilla cupcakes in the oven and decided that it was a good idea to put something to watch on tv. except that thid was at least half a hour ago and lottie's messy hair and your puffy red lips made it very clear that paying attention to the screen was the last thing that you guys were doing.

you step into the kitchen and you could barely see the oven. the entire kitchen looked like a cloudy storm and the alarm would probably go on if it had taken you a few extra seconds to find out. lottie was right behind, hiding like a scared little kid, when you open the door and immediately stepped away to avoid inhaling any of the thick smoke. you quickly put on the gloves and desperately took the burnt cupcakes from the oven to place the tray on the counter. "maybe they are still edible." lottie whispered, peeking from over your shoulder. you slowly turn your head around to face her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

maybe it was your girlfriend's fault. you couldn't focus and think straight when she was wearing that cute blue uniform right on your couch. but you also couldn't blame her entirely. lottie matthews had money. a lot of money. and thanks to that she had daddy issues and a bunch of people designed to do whatever she wanted to. a butler, a housekeeper, a maid, a private chef. that girl had an assistant by her side since she was a baby. you would never see lottie doing anything that someone else could do for her faster and better. that's why you decided to bake at your house. no pair of extra hands to help except for your own and things were doing pretty well until you were practically devouring her mouth.

"it's really not that bad, look!" lottie was still trying to convince you even though the cupcakes were darker than the grey baking pan. "we could decorate it with some blue and yellow frosting and the girls will love it!"

"yeah, they will. until they take a bite and decide to expel us from the team after we attempted to poison them." your words came out in a sarcastic tone but you weren't mad. it was actually quite funny to imagine how the girls would react to that. Besides, the desperate attempt of lottie's to fix the situation was adorable. "it's okay, lott. it was just a silly mistake. we still have some batter left." you comfort your girlfriend by gently pressing your lips against her forehead.

thankfully, there was enough batter in the bowl to give it a second try and lottie was eager to prove that she could do things by herself. she didn't need help to do such a simple thing as baking. that's why you let her step in, patiently waiting for her to fill the cupcake paper cups using a tiny spoon. she spilled a bunch between a cupcake and another but you were still proud. being completely honest, you would still be proud even if she burned your house down to the ground.

you would be even prouder if you weren't distracted again. you had your back resting against the wall while lottie was slightly bent over the counter. she was too tall for that. you definitely weren't looking at how that shorts could make her legs longer or how her ass seemed much bigger today in this position. you really tried to look away. you did! but lottie wouldn't stop moving her body and seeing that focused expression on her face while she was biting her own lip was slowly driving you crazy.

"what do you think? do you think that this is good enough?" lottie forces you to leave your own thoughts when asking for your opinion. she was staring at you with hopeful eyes and it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize that she was talking about how the paper cups were filled. you barely took a look at them before shaking your head in agreement almost immediately, feeling your cheeks getting warm at the possibility of lottie noticing how you were staring at her as if she was a piece of meat. "y-yes! those are so good, baby!"

lottie looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips, ready to say something. you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings and especially not from lottie. your girlfriend had the power of knowing exactly what you were feeling and could read you like an open book. “are you okay? are you… sweating?” lottie’s focused expression shifted to a smug smirk on the corner of her mouth. you actually were. the edges of your forehead were already glistening with sweat and your entire body felt like it was being burned by flames.

“i’m fine. just finish those so we can put it back in the oven.” you did your best to sound convincing but the panic in your eyes thanks to the millions of thoughts about different ways to fuck your girlfriend was making it evident that something was wrong and lottie knew exactly what it was, but she didn’t say anything.

instead, she just agrees briefly, not looking to fond of your lie but not caring enough to confront you. maybe you could pull it off, you thought to yourself. but then, thanks to lottie using the tiniest spoon she could find, she ended up spilling it all over the edges and groaned in frustration. except that the groan sounded a lot like a exaggerated whine and every single sound that lottie made had a deep impact on you.

"okay, that's it." you whisper and immediately moved away from the wall to walk towards lottie, making the loud noise from your heavy steps echo through the kitchen. you didn't care if it was a complete mess, you would deal with it later. you grabbed the pan and threw it inside the oven, slamming the door hard enough to make lottie's eyes widen. but when you look at her, she isn't scared or confused anymore, she's smirking.

"is that funny to you?" hissing, you place both of your hands on lottie's hips to spin her around and make her face you. you push her against the counter and you notice how her breath was already catching in her throat. "hm... kind of." lottie shrugs. she had the dirtiest smile ever on her lips.

you clenched your jaw at the same time as lottie let a weak and whiny moan out caused by your fingers unconsciously gripping her hips tighter. "is that what you wanted? you wanted to be treated like a slut?" you growled while pushing yourself further against lottie even harder to make sure that she was trapped. your eyes were completely filled with lust as they would mirror lottie's. her smile vanished and she was completely speechless. she couldn't say a word even if she tried to.

"what? you were brave enough to tease me before but can't say anything now? so pathetic." you mock your girlfriend while your hands were busy with her body. your fingers were digging into the covered skin of her waist now as your other hand moved up to her neck. your fingertips first scratched the sensitive skin in a slow pace, being a bit too rough once or twice, before you had her jaw wrapped into your hand. you made lottie look straight into your eyes, waiting for an answer impatiently.

"y-yes..." lottie speaks in a broken whisper. with no warnings, you lift your right leg up just enough to make your bare knee in contact with your girlfriend's core. even covered by the fabric of her uniform, you could feel her warmth. a gasp comes out of her lips and it sounded like music to your ears. you pushed it further but stood still and your fingers let go of her jaw to hold her neck tenderly. lottie's body was covered in chills. "please..." she whines.

"aw, lott... i don't think you deserve it." your voice is calm and soothing but you're not exactly being sweet now. there was a kind of confident arrogance hidden under it. you leave her neck to run your fingers through her messy dark hair. after every single practice, lottie's hair would go wild no matter how tight her low pigtails or ponytail was and it was the hottest thing ever. you absolutely loved it. "but i'm very proud of you, so maybe..." you move your knee just an inch or two to the side and lottie immediately squirms against you. she had nowhere to run.

lottie closes her eyes and her lips slightly parted when you begin to move your knee and put more pressure on it. you could feel your skin getting damp by your girlfriend's wetness and it only made you want to rub your leg faster. lottie was an absolute whiny mess. her hands were gripping the counter behind her, desperately trying to hold onto something for support. her breath was heavy and coming out in short shallow bursts while her squirming hips were moving on their own. you had to keep them in place by holding firmly onto them and your girlfriend wasn't very happy. her eyes were drowning in anticipation when they opened to stare into yours.

"more..." lottie manages to spill her words in a breathless beg and you knew exactly what she wanted. here's the thing about lottie; ever since you two started dating and you found out that she was a touch starved girl, she became obsessed with your fingers and it's not like you would complain about it

you played with the hem of her clothes for a few seconds just to tease your girlfriend as long as you could, slowly removing your knee. in a swift move, the palm of your hand dig inside the plaid shorts that she was wearing, touching her exposed pelvis. lottie moaned quietly at the sight of your fingers disappearing between her legs. your firm fingertips slipped down slowly until they met the wet and warm spot still covered by the last remaining thin fabric. "god... you're so wet already." you whisper feeling like your own body was boiling and lottie whimpers softly at first feeling your light touch. she knew that. she could feel it already running through her thighs.

your hand goes even further this time underneath her panties and you finally feel her soaked pussy against your fingers. lottie held her breath when she felt how easily it was for you to touch her. she squirms again and this time you don't stop her. her legs were slightly trembling from so much tension and pleasure combined. "does it feel good, angel?" you whisper gingerly with a mischievous little smirk on your lips, knowing the answer for that. it's not like lottie's increasing moans that were filling the entire kitchen weren't already an answer to your question. lottie doesn't say anything but desperately nods.

your fingers found their way into her puffy clit and began to rub slow circles straight away. lottie's hips jerked carelessly searching for every extra crumb of your touch that she could find. her lips were fully parted now and the only sound she could do were based off in whiny moans and pathetic little sounds of how well you were fucking her even though you had barely started.

you took your time while touching lottie. your fingers were slippery like soap when rubbing her pussy and the squelch sounds that would come out of it was too much for both of you. "you look so pretty like that... such a good girl." you murmured right against lottie's ear, knowing very well that praising was one of her biggest weakness. lottie moaned louder and you noticed how her legs were shaking harder now, that's not how you wanted her to cum. "hold on, pretty girl. not just yet." you press your lips against your girlfriend's cheek and before she could blink her shorts and panties were on the kitchen floor and you had your hands gripping tightly on her waist to lift her up and make her sit on the counter.

"jesus christ, y/n..." lottie exhaled when she realized what you were about to do. her eyes were shining with desire. your hands touched her thighs and spread her legs wide open. you almost fell backwards when you saw lottie's glistening folds and your mouth was suddenly full of saliva. you wrapped your arms under lottie's thighs and pulled her closer to you, making her body half bent as her hands were support her weight by holding the edges of the cold counter. your tongue met her pussy, exploring every inch of her patiently before going back up to focus on her swollen clit. lottie was seeing stars and she couldn't keep her whimpers and moans to herself even if she wanted to. her hands moved straight to your head, getting lost between your hair strands and pulling you closer to her dripping core.

lottie's stomach was contracting and releasing over and over again just like the rest of the muscles in her body and it only got worse. while your tongue was moving eagerly and frantically, you placed your left hand on her inner thigh at first just to move it further and play with her entrance for a couple seconds before shoving two fingers inside of her. lottie screamed your name and you feel her insides clenching against you. "d-don't stop!" she begged and it only made you thrust your fingers relentlessly in and out of her, curling them up exactly on her sensitives spongy spot.

"oh god..." lottie squirms and you roughly fuck lottie through her orgasm, looking up to see the expression of pleasure in her face while still eating her out with amusement. her eyes were rolling back along with her toes curling and her hips were rocking along with your fingers. her chest was moving like crazy at the same time she was fighting for her life trying to breath properly. you hear a loud animalistic moan escaping your girlfriend's lips as she tilts her head backwards and tightens her fingers around your hair. you could taste her cum in your mouth perfectly.

you both were so lost into each other that the unpleasant odour of burning cupcakes went unoticed and just like a clock right on time, the loud beeps of the smoke alarm went off making you both flinch. lottie starts to giggle as she realizes what just happened and you pull away from her core with a cheeky grin and a husky voice.

"okay. this time was totally my fault."

#yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #yellowjackets x reader

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souperbloom · 4 days ago

Text

christmas wrapping. [A.I.]

🎁 boyfriend!Ashton x reader

with a busy year behind you and a new one around the corner, you decide to surprise your boyfriend with the greatest gift of all.

a/n: consider this my gift to you, soup nation. merry christmas and happy holidays from mama soup! this is also just a lil somethin to hold you guys over to the new year— lots of fun things happening!

this was rushed. def not proofread. be gentle with me as i am just a girl.

(this oneshot is a stand alone, but it’s set in the same universe as my fic ‘tangerine, tangerine’)

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, bratty!ashton, pet names, oral (m!receiving), bondage, festive innuendos, a sprinkle of christmas cheer, etc.

wordcount: ~4k

⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳

Christmas Eve.

Not a very special day, and not any more than the day that comes after it.

It was you and Ashton’s third holiday season together. A season spent buried in work, Ashton’s schedule packed tight with sound mixing and whacking the nights away on his drums.

But Christmas Eve, despite its mundane nature in the shared home with your boyfriend, was kind of special. It was the only day of that entire week where the two of you were able to sit at home and just enjoy each other’s company.

“How many cups of chocolate chips are we talkin’ here? One? Three? Seven?”

Although Christmas wasn’t inherently celebrated in your relationship, both you and Ashton tried your very best to be festive in any way you could. You’d just spent all morning wrapping red and silver garlands around the bannister of the staircase and thumb-tacking ornaments to the wall, while Ashton was on his third batch of cookies. After snickerdoodle and peanut butter, he’d finally made it to chocolate chip.

“Put as many chocolate chips as your heart desires.”

After practically breaking your neck trying to line the top of your living room ceiling with Christmas lights, you’d made the executive decision to take a break on the couch while Ashton slaved away by the oven. He’d been there since noon, it was well past four now, and giving up or taking any sort of break clearly wasn’t in the cards for him.

“I can’t make that decision, baby. You’re the Cookie Monster of this house,” he calls over his shoulder, bending down to make sure the oven was still warm.

“Put two. Call it even. How many cookies are in this batch anyway?”

“Two dozen. That’s what the recipe says.”

You could practically hear him shrug from all the way in the kitchen. But you just smiled, partially watching the digital fireplace that Ashton put on the TV. He claimed the smooth Christmas jazz and crackling of wood would set the mood— but little did he know. You had other plans to set the mood.

Gifts were never expected on you and Ashton’s Christmas morning. Neither was any semblance of Christmas spirit. The two of you always just woke up and carried on your day as if it were any other. But this year in particular was a rough one, and you figured your favorite boy deserved some extra holiday cheer for all of the work he’s been putting in.

You came across this little idea when you found an old pair of lingerie sitting in a box at the back of your closet, Ashton had gifted it to you on your first anniversary— it was a red matching set with a sheer tulle slip. You were never presented with the opportunity to wear it, but the feathered trimming on the slip and rhinestone bow smack between the bra cups was just the right amount of festive for the precedent set on Christmas Eve.

Thinking all day about surprising him was what got you motivated enough to deck out your living room in Christmas decor. You couldn’t contain your smile when Ashton offered to bake cookies, since you knew he’d be too distracted to notice if you slipped away for a moment.

The Kitchen Aid began to whir, and you tilt your head to see Ashton whistling to himself as he spins the bowl of dough with ease. You took this moment as your perfect opportunity to sneak away upstairs to the bedroom.

He definitely didn’t notice you had left; he was far too engulfed with getting his cookie dough to the perfect consistency. You felt your heart patter as you reached for the box under the bed, all while the mixer was still working and Ashton was still whistling without a clue.

The lingerie was in pristine condition after all these years— and changing into it made you feel like a million bucks. It was flattering, the way the tulle fell just above your hips and left the red lace panties barely exposed. Once adjusted, you grinned to yourself in the mirror while smoothing out the feathers and scurried into the bathroom for your next surprise.

You found your next hiding spot untouched, thank God, and pulled out the ream of satin ribbon that you left in your bathroom drawer. The ribbon was a last minute idea that dawned on you during a trip to your local craft store.

The ribbon was sturdy, which was perfect for the circumstance. Hell, it was sturdy enough to hold the shape of a perfectly knotted bow on its own— you took the liberty of tying to a lock of your hair at the top of your head to add a bit of pizazz.

If anyone couldn’t tell by now, the gift Ashton wanted most for Christmas was you.

“Hey, baby? Can you come in here for a sec?”

Ashton calls out to you from downstairs in the kitchen, the mixer having stopped and started a few more times.

“What’s up?” You call back, frantically shutting all of your drawers and pushing the lingerie box back under the bed.

“Want you to come try the dough. Make sure the ‘chip ratio’ is to your liking.”

You stifle a giggle as Ashton turns the mixer back on, shutting off all the lights in your bedroom and starting to tiptoe towards the stairs.

“You in the bedroom?” Ashton shouts again, his back facing you as you’re already halfway down the steps.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

You eventually creep down the last step with chills running down your back in anticipation. You couldn’t believe that he still hasn’t turned around to see you all decked out in your holiday getup. It was honestly kind of funny, how determined he was to get these cookies just how you liked them.

“I think this should be fine. But— tell me what you think. Should I add cinnamon? God, I’ve been staring at cookies for so long… I think I’m starting to turn into one.”

You giggle again, audibly this time, and eventually creep your way behind him. You slither your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“That looks perfect t’me,” you hum sweetly, drumming on his hips and admiring the picturesque bowl of dough.

Ashton laughs at your mellow comment, his body shaking as he disassembles the mixer.

“I want you to try it— but don’t eat too much. The raw eggs and shit, they’ll fuck you up.”

“Mmhm…”

Ashton moves fluidly, as if you weren’t even wrapped around his waist and holding him to your chest. You couldn’t believe how enraptured he was by these goddamn cookies.

You almost wanted to smack him.

“Ashton…” you mumble, an attempt to get his attention.

“Yes?”

Just then, you take a step away, releasing him from your arms and putting your hands on your hips.

“Turn around for God’s sake!”

Ashton freezes, dropping the mixer and wiping the remnants of flour off of his pants, “Sorry, sorry, I was just g— holy fuck.”

He had finally seen you. All decked out. Lace, tulle and all, wrapped up with a little red bow.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

His eyes wasted no time in scanning every inch of your body, pupils dilated to maximum capacity as his hands had no clue what to touch first.

“Oh my God— you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Mmmh, thank you,” you coo, melting into his palms as they eventually make it to your waist.

“This is my gift?” He asks, his eyes sparkling like the lights on your tiny Christmas tree.

“Not all of it.”

Ashton pulls you into his torso, hands roaming your sides and lifting the tulle slip in his path. He can’t believe how incredible you look— let alone in a set that he’s been wanting to see you in since he first bought it off the mannequin.

“You fuckin’ spoil me, y’know that? Shit— what’d I do to deserve this? Was I on the nice list? Jesus fuck, I’m spent.” His entire sentence comes out in one hurried jumble, working in tandem with the steps he was taking to walk you backwards into the living room.

“Just thought you deserved a little somethin’ after everything you’ve done this year.”

“Everything I’ve done? Baby,” he interrupts himself with a kiss to your collarbone, “this is the best gift I’ve gotten in years.”

A giggle escapes your throat as you push his eager lips away from their attachment to your neck, “I haven’t even shown you the rest of it yet!”

Soon enough, you have Ashton padding after you like a dog up the stairs, letting him chase you to the top of the staircase before barricading the bedroom door with your body. He frowns as you stop him from bursting through it, taking a hand to caress your waist.

“Baby—” he begins to protest as you anchor your hands to the moulding.

“Ah ah ah,” you tut, “not yet.”

“Why not? I wanna unwrap my gift.”

You chuckle at his childish attitude, lazily slinging your arms across his shoulders and giving him a cheeky smile.

“Patience is a virtue. I’ve got one more surprise left for you.”

Just then, you reach behind and open the door to your bedroom; it was dark, with the exception of the purple and blue lava lamp that backlit your sensual figure.

“Entry fee is one kiss from you, mister.”

Ashton’s lips curve into a sultry smile, still standing over you, “Just one? Why not a million?”

You just shrug, tapping your manicured fingers along the doorframe, “Inflation.”

He stoops down to press a gentle kiss onto your lips, taking a moment to savor the pomegranate flavored lip balm you’d smothered across them in a hurry. He hums into you, wanting to reach out and touch, but barring himself as per your request.

“I’ve paid my toll,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Don’t be smart.”

Ashton bounces on his heels as you step away from the door, guiding him into the dark room by the sway of your hips. You reach over to the nightstand and turn on the light to reveal your bed, intact from this morning, with just a single spool of ribbon nestled between your pillows.

Ashton stops at the doorway, scratching his head in confusion, “Our bed?”

“Mhm. Our bed.”

You then take a few steps, making sure to push your arms together and arch out your back as you reach for the red satin ribbon.

“I mean— I’m not complaining—”

“You shouldn’t. This is part of the surprise,” you say these words as if they meant nothing, twisting the ribbon between your fingers and starting to slowly unravel the tightly wound roll.

“You’re so elusive,” he tuts, stepping closer to the bed.

“I haven’t even given you instructions yet.”

Ashton raises his eyebrow, dipping his knee down onto the mattress. You could tell his eyes were still bugged out and wandering across your body.

“Instructions? Did my gift come with a manual?”

“Somethin’ like that,” you murmur, stepping around the bed to meet him, “you’ve been awfully good this year.”

“Have I?” Ashton asks, in complete awe of you. His body stiffens when you reach out to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Mhmm, very. You’ve been working so hard all year. Must get tiresome, no?”

In a complete 180 switch, Ashton suddenly seems to know where this is headed. His face, once dawned in pure ignorant bliss, had learned a thing or two within the past few minutes.

“Wait.”

He had stopped his path towards the bed, eyeing you down as you continued to unravel the ribbon until it dropped onto the floor.

“What?”

“What are you trying to do right now?”

With the satin now wrapped into a make-shift spool across your knuckles, you shrug, “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, slowly working backwards from the progress he’s made getting onto the mattress.

“Is this part of your little surprise? What’s the ribbon for?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions?”

Ashton crosses his arms, meeting you at your side of the bed, “Because I’m impatient.”

You scoff, “Well at least you’re aware of it.”

He shakes his head, stepping towards you and motioning to the ribbon as the smile on your face only makes him more impatient, “And how do you intend to use that?”

“Use what?”

“The ribbon.”

“Oh,” you hold out your hand, stepping closer to him and only leaving an inch between your bodies, “this?”

“Yeah, that.”

You could tell that Ashton was getting frustrated; the subtle way his jaw ticked each time you smart-mouthed one of his questions. Being elusive and condescending was Ashton’s job in the bedroom. It was one of the things you liked most about your dynamic between the sheets. He, however, didn’t seem to like the sudden role reversal.

But tonight, despite your presence being his present, you decided to go for the more self indulgent route.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“The purpose of the ribbon is for me to know, and for you to find out. Wanna lay down for me?”

He doesn’t even get the chance to retort before one soft push to his chest had him plopping down onto the bed. He stares up at you, a bit stunned, watching as you slip right between the perfectly sized slot between his legs.

“Fine. No more questions. But you mentioned instructions…?”

“Mhm. They’re very simple.”

“Hit me with ‘em.”

You smile, draping the ribbon around your neck in order to have both hands free.

“Take your shirt off.”

With his bottom lip now tucked between his teeth, he obliges, pulling off his white tee from the back and tossing it behind you. You take a moment to admire his smooth collarbones, still standing between his legs.

“I’m starting to like you from this angle, Ash,” you purr, taking that same hand you used to push him down to grapple his chin and force his gaze into your eyes.

“I’m indifferent.”

“Why’s that, hm?”

“Usually I’m the one barkin’ orders...”

Before he can explain himself any further, you grab at the ribbon and point to the headboard.

“Lay back. Arms up.”

“Are you about to tie me up?”

He asks this question as he slowly maneuvers to where you told him to, curiosity sparkling in his eyes yet still a fool to your soft, sultry tone.

Somehow, some way, despite the vehement pleading of his facial expressions and the desire to put up a fight, you’re straddling his hips, and he’s holding his arms up like you asked him to.

“Just lay back and look pretty.”

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” Ashton chuckles, “how the tables have turned…”

“I wish you’d stop being such a smartass,” you hum, reaching over him to tie his left wrist in place.

You wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when the second bow was tied— his face was priceless. You loved how the bows keeping his wrists steady to the bedposts matched the one you’d tied into your hair, you loved how gorgeous he looked beneath you, completely at your disposal.

The way his eyes narrowed when you called him a smartass, it was obvious he was holding back a smile.

You were starting to think that he loved it too.

“Baby—” as Ashton whines, he tugs at your knots, causing your antique bed frame to creak and bang against the wall.

“Yes?” you reply, perching on his lap with an innocent smile.

He seems to have more to say, but all vices are lost as he seems to just give up, and sigh.

“—Oh— forget it. Do what you want. I’m yours.”

You break the tension with a kiss, pressing your lips against his and feeling his chest shudder as he breathes beneath you. It was obvious that he wasn’t accustomed to being restrained. Each time you rolled your hips against his flannel pajama pants there was a knocking at your wall, signifying the willpower he was exercising as to not uproot the bedposts from the floor.

You continue your slow trail, taking your time and peppering open-mouthed kisses along the side of his neck and down towards his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. How do you do this shit?” The frustration laced through his breathy voice made your stomach turn.

“What, stay tied up? It’s easy,” you hum, mid-kiss to his pec, “I just play by the rules.”

Ashton huffs, growing more and more antsy as your travels lead you towards the waistband of his pajama pants. His supple, gravelly moans were the only thing keeping you from tearing off his pants and having your way with him— because one thing that Ashton Irwin lacked in this life was patience.

And one thing you lacked in this life was the ability to deny yourself a good time.

“Baby, c’mon.” His hips jerk upward, along with his hands, his crotch hitting your clothed core in all of the correct places. But rather than visibly showing how much his fully hard dick had an effect on you, you just smile, and reach up to smoosh his lips together with your index finger.

“Stop pulling, you’ll break the bed.”

“It’s gettin’ really fuckin hard not to.”

“Hush. Don’t wanna hear another word from that mouth.”

Just then, you tap your cool fingertips along his pelvic bone, and watch as the goosebumps rise along his tanned stomach. Living in Los Angeles definitely had it’s perks.

“Yeah?” You can tell how hard he was trying to keep the status quo, but now your fingers were dancing beneath his waistband and causing him grief, “You–God, what have you done to me?”

A catty smile dances across your face, still enjoying how much he absolutely fucking hated not being the one in control.

“A Christmas miracle, maybe?” you tease, finally getting a start on pulling down his pants, “Lift those hips, pretty boy.”

With a disgruntled moan, he does as he’s told, his eyes locked in on your figure and tracing every single curve with his pupils.

You eventually free him from the confines of flannel, his cock springing out like it was being held captive. It was hard not to let your mouth water at just the sight of him; your old ways were awfully invasive.

“Mmmmh,” you hum at the way he twitches, his tip leaky and just begging to be touched.

“You’re fuckin’ murdering me with those eyes, baby.”

“That’s the point, silly. You always like to tell me how patient I am. Why not give you a taste of your own medicine?”

You reach out to hold his cock, antagonizing him by wrapping your fingers around him and remaining stagnant. He hisses at your gentle touch, the headboard knocking against the wall once more.

“God damnit— you gonna make me beg for it?”

“Maybe. That’d be fun,” you hum sweetly, starting a slow rhythm of pumping his cock while staring deeply into those honey green eyes.

“In your fuckin’ dreams, sweetheart.”

In order to hush those sweet lips of his, you take your tongue and drag a line up his shaft. He grunts, loudly, wrists now tinged with red to match his restraints and his incapability to sit still.

“Fuck you— you’re such a tease,” he mutters, his breathing picking up at merely the sigh of your lips near his cock.

“Fuck me? Isn’t that the goal?” you joke once more before dipping your head down to ever-so daintily suck on his tip.

Ashton then lets out a sound like you’d never heard before— it was loud, and beastial. You’d never thought you had it in you to make a grown man cry, and yet here you were, with your boyfriend's sanity at your fingertips.

“Y/N, baby, please… Take it all. God I’m— I’m dyin’ t’feel that fuckin’ mouth.”

With your lips still pursed around his tip, not giving him the full satisfaction just yet, you hum, sending vibrations from the hollows of your cheeks directly into his body. He jolts again, cursing and muttering at the feeling of satin setting fire to his wrists.

His sounds alone have you enthralled by this whole scenario. Hell, you couldn’t believe you didn’t think of this sooner. Tying Ashton up and teasing him in the most seductive piece of lingerie you own? Sold.

In the midst of feeling bad for your poor poor boyfriend, you decide to up the ante, and take him fully into your mouth without warning. Another gasp catches in his larynx, finally releasing some of the pent up tension that had been building since the moment you tied a knot around his wrist.

“Ahhh, fuck. Fuck, yes sweetheart. God you feel so good—”

Expletives and moans fill your bedroom wall to wall, a familiar buzzing sensation hits your stomach as he mutters your name like a prayer.

“Just like that, baby. Not gonna last long if ya’ keep—fuck— suckin’ me off like that.”

It was now an attempt to beat the clock as you felt Ashton’s abdomen tighten. You knew he was close, he knew he was close, it was just a matter of when.

You continued the rhythm that hit him just right, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks whilst his mercy ran thin.

“That pretty mouth— s’good to me. Fuck, you’re an angel.”

With his words, you pop your head up, releasing his cock and replacing his your cock-full mouth with a smile.

“Keep talkin’ pretty boy, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

Ashton’s eyebrows furrow, but they don’t stay angry for long.

“You piss me the fuck off.”

A giggle slips past your steely demeanor, enjoying the ability to banter with your boyfriend while his head spins.

“I know. That’s the best part,” you coo, narrowing your eyes as your hand pumps his milks his cock to an imminent orgasm, “Now are you gonna cum for me, or what?”

One final tug at the headboard left Ashton spent, his release spilling onto your knuckles as you watch him with your bottom lip between your teeth. His breathing was shallow, in time with the rhythm of the last few strokes of your hand.

“Jesus Christ—” he sighs, his head thumping back into the pillows, “You’re a fuckin’ animal.”

“Still a merry Christmas?” You ask, your eyes half-lidded as you take your free hand to massage his shaky thighs.

“The merriest,” he breathes out, still trying to collect himself by running his hands through his now sweaty hair, “but just wait ‘till next year.”

After you’d cleaned up the mess you made and freed Ashton from his festive ligatures, the two of you sat, cozied in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you ruminated on the past year together.

“You know, if you wanna start up the tradition of having a real Christmas, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Ashton mumbles into your hair, still traipsing along the red tulle of your slip.

“Really? What changed your mind?”

“Don’t know. I guess today had me feeling ‘holly and jolly’, if ya’ catch my drift.”

The two of you giggle, feeling the warmth of your body heat combining to shield how Ashton blasted the AC to compensate for your longing for a real white Christmas.

“Maybe next year we’ll have a Christmas party. Invite a few friends, do a secret Santa, cook some dinner?” you shrug, mindlessly sweeping his hair off of his forehead and tucking it behind his ear.

“Hell no. Entertaining those losers is the last thing on my wishlist. But you and me? Alone together?”

“Yeah? What about it?” You hum.

“That’s at the top of my wishlist.”

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