#No one cares but I like to chatter to myself

[thedensworld]

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

*

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

*

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

[itspileofgoodthings]

rewatching four weddings and a funeral (2019) with Nina for the first time in a while and I am forced to admit that Maya is in fact often the most unlikable of the friend group and I understand why she and Kash’s storyline isn’t people’s favorites.

[corvid-language-library]

God that queerplatonic relationship comic thing has me reeling honestly, every single relationship I've been in I've felt like I wasn't as invested as the other person, that I loved them differently somehow, that it was all too intense and too much and while I loved them deeply and powerfully, it just wasn't... romantic?? But I figured it was a different, stronger feeling to my normal friendships so obviously it must be romantic, right?

And I've always said my sexual/romantic/gender identity or whatever isn't really important to me, it's such a small part of my personality, but being able to say yes I experience very strong and powerful feelings, but they are not romantic, and the kind of relationship I seek isn't a romantic one... yeah, it's a relief, and it makes it so much easier to think about the future. I don't have to stay away from romantic relationships because I'm broken and incapable of loving properly; I want to stay away from romantic because the kind of love they provide isn't what I desire or require.

[idlenight]

WIP Whenever

tagged by dear friend @heartbreakincident. 30 minutes after it already stopped being wednesday for me. so idk its thursday and im already super late with this <( _ _ )>. so nobody is gonna be tagged, tag yourself instead <3.

I don't have any art wips i wish to share (nvm that I have much of anything with the lack of me doing art recently).

So I dug up some old writing. which is otherwise not seeing the light of day anyway (its dragon age).

◆◇◆◇

"Roro," Carver squeezed out, a hand weakly reaching for his brother's. And Carver must be truly far gone if he would willingly call Ambrose by such a 'silly childish nickname' (Carver's own words).

"Carver, I love you, but this is a bit too intimate don't you think?" the joke fell flat even to his own ears, the nervous tremor making it sound like a desperate attempt at normalcy. Which it truly was.

Carver actually let out a laugh at that - one that was barely more than a wheeze, and followed by a pained groan. Delirious from blood loss, had to be. Noted.

"Just... sit still one moment."

Carver's head lolled to the side with a frown, "Where would I be going with my guts hanging out?"

He ignored the even worse attempt at humor to take a deep breath instead. Mentally preparing himself for the grossest thing he had probably ever done, or at least the most upsetting thing. "Oh and try to be quiet."

"Wha-" Carver cut himself off with an ear shattering scream as his guts were unceremoniously pushed back into his stomach.

[miodiodavinci]

you ever end up typing a rant in the tags so long tumblr physically cuts you off and the post publishes with probably only 1/3rd of the tags

[vaporgrove]

i need to do artfight attacks but i’m being held down by The Curses

i’m going to get to them tomorrow if i can’t manage it tonight! if you attack me and are waiting for a revenge i promise it’s not that i’m ignoring you it’s just that im currently failing

[mulagyr]

hi i just wanted to let you know that you are doing gods work and there is a throne in heaven with your name on it please never stop i love you

the fire emblem 6 community is dwindling as we speak

AH??

thank you so much for saying that 🥺🥺🥺 that’s so kind of you…..

i love fe6 so don’t worry i will never stop!!!! please don’t stop loving fe6 also!! please!

[drifloonz]

also to clarify im still on like... i guess hiatus? its mostly just that my flow for writing and headcanon posts specifically is pretty low . ive written a lot abt steven and i can definitely do more if i put my mind 2 it but like . God damn .

[evie-sturns]

21 - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you recieve a unusual call from chris, you realise he’s got blackout drunk on his 21st birthday. you’re forced to go pick him up and take care of him in his interesting state..

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!chris, mentions of throwing up (no detail whatsoever), a lot of chaos

————————————🔸————————————

11:36pm

i yawn as i shuffle around in bed, my warm covers wrapped around me as i scroll through instagram,

suddenly my phone starts to ring,

‘incoming call from ‘chrizzzzyy’

i pick up the phone, pressing it to my ear as chris instantly starts,

“you know you’re so beautiful, like soo gorgeous.” he mumbles into the phone, his words slurred.

there’s faint chatter in the background, along with heavy music.

“chris? you okay?” i ask, my eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

“i need you- like how a baby bird needs its mama” he groans, followed by a loud laugh.

i giggle, “chris what is wrong with you!”

the realisation hits.

chris turned 21 today, i couldn’t make it to his party due to work, but for fucks sake, this kid is drunk.

“oh my god- chris you got drunk? i thought you said you wouldn’t!” i say frantically,

“uh factually i am not drunk- i think you’ll find.” he fumbles over his words,

“can you come.” he follows up.

i scoff, “christopher- it is midnight, where are you?”

he pauses for a moment, before i hear him chatter to someone else,

“yo- where am i, my girl wants to know” he mumbles to a friend i assume,

he shortly gets back to me “i’m at home, but i want to be at your home.”

i nod with a small huff, “god, i’ll come get you now, just wait on the curb and don’t go on the road whatever you do.”

he almost giggles, “you sound like my mommy.”

i groan before hanging up,

i heave myself out of bed, knowing i’m about to have to collect my best friend in his state.

i grab my keys and fix my hair before walking downstairs, creaking open the door.

the cold night hair hits me hard, i shiver as i jog up to my car, swinging open the car door.

i instantly speed off down the street.

-

10 minutes later i arrive at his street, the pebbles crunch under my tires as i slowly drive to his house.

chris shoots up from his sat position on the side walk, giving me a huge grin.

i pull up beside him, reaching over and opening the door.

“hey baby.” he grins, flopping down in the passenger seat,

“chris.” i warn, reaching over and buckling him in.

“how much have you had to drink?” i ask, looking over at him.

he hesitates before shrugging, “shit- ‘prolly like 20 or something.”

i pause, “20 of what.”

he shrugs again, “couldn’t tell ya sweet cheeks.”

i throw my head back, with a small laugh.

“come- come sit on my lap” he grins, his eyes half shut, patting his lap.

“chris! i am not your girlfriend.” i remind him, his face drops

“you’re- you’re breaking up with me!?” he raises his voice

“we were never dating” i point out, his eyes water.

“are you seriously gonna cry?” i laugh,

he nods with a small pout, “my girl, my one and only is dumping me-“

i lean over the centre console and give him a hug,

i hold back laughs as i pull out my phone, putting it on 0.5x and holding it up.

“tell me what’s wrong chris.” i grin,

“you- you’re breaking up with me!” his words are slurred as he throws a mini tantrum.

“you’re my babe, my hot little babe.” he sighs,

“oh my god chris”. i laugh, putting my phone down and starting the car,

i roll down the windows for him as i attempt to explain that fact that i am NOT his girlfriend, and never had been.

he sits up on his knees and attempts to make a break for it out the window, he sticks his arms and head out the window.

i reach over and grab his shirt, pulling him back in before rolling up the window

“chris! no!”

he mumbles something vaguely before looking over at me,

“we hooking up tonight right?” he blurts out so causally.

“shit i bet you could give me the best-“ he starts but i clamp a hand over his mouth.

“chris.. anything you say tonight you will regret.” i warn him with a smile.

“but- but you’re so pretty!” he protests,

i pull into my driveway, hopping out the car before walking over to chris’s side.

i open the door and he jumps out, stumbling over onto the grass.

“oh no chris.” i sigh, grabbing his underarms and picking him up.

he wraps his legs around my lower back and burys his head into my shoulder.

i carry him up the driveway with small huffs,

i fiddle with my keys before unlocking the door, chris is practically a koala bear, clinging to me as i heave us upstairs.

i finally enter my room before dropping him on the bed.

i switch on the light and take a good look at him,

“like what you seee.” he grins with a stupid lip bite,

he looks white as a sheet, my eyes widen as i grab his hand.

i run him into the bathroom.

“i’m gonna throw up.” he mumbles,

“oh god oh god.” i whine, helping him into the shower.

i stand outside the shower as i frantically try to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him.

i unbuckle his belt and tug it off, discarding it out the bathroom floor.

i unbutton his shorts for him, guiding them down his legs, leaving him in his boxers.

“look- you get your boxers off and just try not to throw up for another minute.”

he giggles as he tugs his boxers down, i slide the shower curtain across and take a deep breath as i sit on the toilet lid.

he reaches a hand out of the shower curtain, holding his boxers.

“just drop them i’m not touching that.” i groan,

he drops them in the pile of clothes before i hear a small-

“oh shit.”

i reach into the shower and turn it on cold, trying to drown out the sounds of chris..

i hear some deep breaths from behind the curtain,

“y/n!!!! i threw up!!!” he calls out,

“that’s okay! just get clean in the shower for me!” i tell him,

he sounds panicked, “hey, the alcohol is better out then in sweetie.” i tell him,

he laughs in response, “you’re righhhtt!”

i scoff, waiting for him to finish up,

my eyes widen as chris goes silent, “chris! you better not be peeing in my shower i swear to god-“ i start but he cuts me off with a loud giggle.

i throw my head into my hands,

“oopsie daisy’s.” he doesn’t stop laughing.

-

after 45 minutes of chris yapping my ear off, i finally got him changed and in my bed.

“and then guess what he said, he said that he was gonna fight me if i didn’t give him my drink, like just admit you’re a alcoholic!” he rambles on about his night.

“lay down for me.” i tell him as he sits on my matress.

he flops down on my mattress, his head hitting the pillow.

i lean over the bed and tug up the covers over him.

i move his hair off his forehead with my hand then place a kiss to his forehead.

he yawns loudly before whining,

“where are you going!”

i scoff, “i’m gonna sleep on the couch chris.”

he huffs, “but we sleep together all the time!”

i roll my eyes, “that’s when there’s no risk of you throwing up on me”

he kicks his legs, “i promise i won’t!”

i hesitate before giving in, jumping into bed beside him.

he smiles stupidly before wrapping his arms around me, tugging me into his side.

i usually wouldn’t let him cuddling me slide, but i guess he’s not gonna remember it tomorrow.

-

10:23am

i stir awake, chris’s arms still wrapped right around my waist.

he groans, waking up aswell.

“why am i cuddling you” he laughs tiredly,

“do you remember anything that happened last night?” i ask, sitting up in bed.

“not really.” he smiles, rubbing his eyes.

i reach over him and grab my phone, opening up the camera roll.

“you had a long love confession to me.” i giggle, his face drops.

“what?” he asks panicked, i give him my phone

he presses play, letting the video play outloud.

“you’re breaking up with me!? you’re my babe, my hot little babe”

-

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsforlife v @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[maraeffect]

it's so weird having to like. engineer your responses to people before you say them?? like i'm used to being pretty real with people, at least when it comes to important stuff. but like. i'm visiting home at the end of the month, and staying with my parents. it's gonna be VERY hard/weird to not harp on the fact that i'm still super upset with them. after all the shit they pulled during my move for cancer treatment, i will absolutely never have a relationship with them in the way i did before. and even if they both change, by some act of fucking god, i will never trust either of them 100% ever again. but i still rely on them for shit, so i can't just lay it all out like that, or tell them how i really feel. wouldn't even make a difference. just ugh. being that fake is gonna take a LOT of energy from me in an already VERY packed 3 days

[itspileofgoodthings]

my first two class periods vibe so well with me and then my fourth period the vibes are so bad

[technologyvoid]

.

[likeumeanit9497]

they're both fucking good | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader x fem!friend

summary: y/n has spent the day and night drinking at the beach with her best friends jasmine and matt. after getting back to matt's, heavily intoxicated and freezing, she is desperate to get warm. who would have thought that desperation would lead her down the path it did.

warnings: SMUT; threesome (f/f/m); oral (f/m receiving); established friendship; face sitting; facials; dirty talk; unprotected sex; talk of alcohol consumption; 18+

notes: holy fuck i FINALLY finished this. i know i told you guys this would be out friday night...and i know that it's now sunday...but i let the weekend get away from me (oopsie). i also have absolutely ZERO experience with threesomes (both writing them AND participating in them lol) so i needed some time to make sure i did my research. as usual i still don't feel super confident in my writing of this one, but regardless i hope everyone enjoys!!!

disclaimer: i would feel icky if i posted a f/f/m threesome fic without making it clear that i am absolutely not trying to minimize wlw experiences (ESPECIALLY during pride month!!!) by adding a man to the mix. as a bi woman myself, i understand how common it is for straight men to fantasize about having sex with two women while simultaneously disregarding the significance of their sexuality. my intentions when writing this fic were not to promote this mindset in any way, it was simply because i love men and women. i would also like to make it clear that my two female characters, though not confirmed in the writing, are bisexual and not simply participating in the threesome to appease the male character. okay that's all, lots of love <33333

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Oh my god I am so fucking cold!” You exclaimed through chattering teeth as you walked through Matt’s front door. “Me too, holy shit.” Replied your friend, Jasmine, as she began climbing the stairs leading to the main floor of the house. From behind you, you heard Matt chuckle before locking the front door behind you three. “I told you both that you shouldn’t have left your change of clothes here if you were planning on staying at the beach past sunset.” He said as you and Jasmine scampered into his room where you had left your overnight bags.

You, Jasmine, and Matt had spent the entire day — and much of the night — drinking at the beach with a big group of your mutual friends. The three of you had met at a party a few months ago, and had all bonded over your shared appreciation for being highly anti-social in large groups. Because of this, the three of you had created your own little sub-group within your circle of mutual friends, hence why you all had ended up leaving the beach before anyone else had — including Nick and Chris.

You and Jasmine hurried into Matt’s room, shivering with wet hair and not much clothing on besides bikinis, wondering why the copious amount of liquor that you both drank hadn’t kept you warm. Without wasting any time, you began stripping your damp articles of clothing off to replace them with the hoodie and sweatpants you had left in Matt’s room.

As you lifted your bikini top over your face, Jasmine dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Matt, no! Don’t look!” She said through her giggles, covering her own face with her hands but peering sneakily through her fingers. Her attempt at preserving your modesty was unfortunately too late, as Matt was already standing at his closet, gazing at your chest as you continued to strip. Too drunk and concerned with the idea of getting into warm clothes, you truly didn’t care if you were stripping in front of your two best friends.

Just as you pulled your oversized hoodie over your head, Jasmine’s muffled voice filled your ears. “Wait a minute.” She said, walking over to you with an expression on her face that you couldn’t quite read. “You have your nipples pierced?” Her words came out slurred, and you feigned a smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had them done since I was eighteen.” You replied shyly. Curiosity flashed across her face as she began toying with the hem of your hoodie. “Can I see them again?” She asked with a slight smirk that you returned with your own before placing your hands on top of hers to help her lift your sweater.

Immediately, her eyes drifted to your tits, and you watched as they flickered rapidly from one to the other. “They’re so pretty, Y/n.” She said breathily, and you giggled nervously in response. The two of you were so transfixed in your own world — Jasmine still captivated by your tits and you immersed in her beautiful facial features — that you both nearly forgot that Matt was standing just a few feet away; watching the entire interaction in shock.

His feet were planted to the floor, and his body felt like a cement statue as he could do nothing but stare at his two best friends in their intimate moment. Even though part of him felt like he shouldn’t be watching you two, his eyes were glued to your places a few feet in front of him, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pry them away. So he continued to watch as Jasmine moved her hands from the hem of your sweater to your ribcage, before eventually using her thumbs to lightly brush against the metal bars on your nipples. He felt the front of his pants tighten when your eyes fluttered closed from the sensation, and finally his jaw dropped when Jasmine brought her lips up to meet yours.

Your breath hitched from the shock of feeling your friend’s mouth on yours, but the shock quickly dissolved into lust as she continued to swirl her thumbs across your sensitive nipples. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you began deepening the kiss as a way to assure her that what she was doing was okay, and you felt a soft hum leave her lips in acknowledgment. As your tongues fought for dominance in one another’s mouths, you relished in the distinct taste of peppermint in her delicate mouth.

Both of your hands began frantically travelling across each other’s bodies as you both grew needier, and the two of you began hurriedly stumbling towards Matt’s bed in the middle of the room. Jasmine laid you down on the soft mattress — your head on the very edge of the bed — and immediately straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Your hands moved to her own bikini-clad chest, where you effortlessly lifted the material to free her tits before immediately grabbing one in each of your hands.

Matt continued to watch the two girls play with each other, his mind scrambled by what was happening in front of his very eyes. His cock throbbed inside his jeans, and he was desperate to get some relief. He palmed himself lightly above his clothing, but as the girls began grinding against each other in his bed, he knew that he was going to need more alleviation than that.

Just then, Jasmine detached her lips from your neck and dragged her eyes from you to the space behind your head. Following her lead, you turned your head to the side and immediately cast your gaze on Matt. Even from a few feet away, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. If his flushed cheeks and wild eyes weren’t enough to let you know how he felt about the scene in front of him, the sizeable bulge in the front of his jeans confirmed it.

“You okay with this Matty?” Jasmine’s tone was light and mischievous, but you felt your own heart flutter at the reminder that Matt was able to see all of you in this way. He shifted his pants slightly but nodded eagerly, enjoying the view but clearly growing antsy from just watching. You smiled at him once his travelling eyes moved from your half naked body to your eyes, and you felt a wave of confidence overtake you. “You coming?” You asked, and watched as his eyes widened slightly. Above you, Jasmine giggled seductively before reaching her arm in his direction; encouraging him. Even though he had seemed shocked, he didn’t hesitate for long before walking over to the two of you on the bed.

Matt positioned himself in a sitting position at the edge of the bed only inches from where the two of you were laying. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hooked a finger in his shirt collar and pulled him down towards you. Immediately, he attached his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as Jasmine’s mouth began moving across your body. Everything about Matt’s body language and actions told you that he was starving for more, and you didn’t hesitate to gently palm him through his jeans.

After leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach, Jasmine crawled back up to your face, at which time Matt detached his mouth from you and began kissing her. From your lower angle, you watched in awe as your two best friends’ tongues danced together in unison, and hummed in contentment when Matt began playing with your sensitive nipples. Growing impatient as your friends continued to kiss one another, you leaned up and joined the kiss. Sloppily, the three of you desperately moved your lips between each others; tongues swirling and teeth biting bottom lips.

Eventually, Jasmine began descending your body once again; her mouth leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and stomach before pausing above your throbbing heat. At the same time, Matt stood up at the edge of the bed and began removing his own clothes. “Is this okay?” Jasmine asked as she began toying with your bikini bottoms; that cheeky glint still present in her eyes. You couldn’t help but nod, your body was on fire from the heat of the situation you found yourself in the middle of. As Jasmine began removing your bottoms, you felt Matt gently grab you under your arms and pull you closer to the edge of the bed. With your head now dangling off the side of the mattress, your view was of Matt staring down at you, stroking his hard cock.

Suddenly, your focus was pulled from the beautiful sight in front of you by Jasmine’s warm mouth against your reactive clit. A moan was pulled from your lips as she began swirling her tongue against your nerves, and you felt pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt before. Jasmine continued to use her talented mouth to fuck you as Matt gazed down at the two of you deep in your own world of pleasure. His view was mind blowing, and he lost all sight of control when your mouth released its loud cries of pleasure. As your mouth opened in ecstasy, he took the opportunity to gently grab onto either side of your face and slide his throbbing dick into your mouth.

Your eyes blew open in shock, but one look at Matt’s glazed over expression of relief was enough to amplify your own sense of arousal. Just as Jasmine slid two slender fingers into your core, Matt began thrusting his member into you. He started off slow and shallow — testing the waters to ensure that you were comfortable — but as your moans of pleasure vibrated his cock he began driving it faster down your throat. Overwhelmed with the unfamiliar sensation of pleasuring one person while also being pleasured by another, you began to lose control of yourself and grabbed onto Jasmine’s long hair in a desperate attempt at feeling grounded. It didn’t take long for Jasmine’s work to bring you close to an orgasm, and your eyes filled with tears as your pleasure began to overtake you. “F-fuck.” You mumbled around Matt’s dick as Jasmine’s fingers began pumping faster in and out of you.

The build up of your orgasm was so staggering that you were having a hard time letting go, especially with two sets of eyes on your writhing body. Jasmine detached her mouth from your clit but kept pumping her fingers into you as she leaned up close to your face. She smirked down at you and watched closely as your throat filled with Matt’s cock over and over. “You gonna cum baby?” She asked, her fingers never losing rhythm inside of you as you sent her pleading eyes. If you could speak, you would have begged her to not stop, but all you could do was release a gurgled moan. Just then, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm tore through you like a freight train. Your mouth went slack around Matt’s cock and your back arched off the bed as Jasmine’s fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm; even after you felt the relief from squirting all over them.

“Holy fuck.” You heard Matt’s gravelly voice through your clouded thoughts as your orgasm began to subside. His hips stilled — he was on the verge of finishing himself — and his grip on the sides of your face tightened as he attempted to regain his composure. With gasping breaths, you managed to calm your racing heart. “Hmm, you taste so good Y/n. Kiss me Matty, and see for yourself.” Jasmine’s voice was breathy and seductive, and without hesitation Matt leaned above you to kiss her deeply; moaning from the taste that your arousal had left behind on her tongue.

Just the thought of your juices being shared between your two best friends stirred up a new wave of arousal within you, and you pressed your thighs together to gain some sort of relief. However, it wasn’t long before Matt and Jasmine broke their kiss and peered down at you, Matt brushing a gentle thumb across your bottom lip. “You ready to get used some more, Y/n?” Asked Jasmine, and you didn’t hesitate before nodding your head eagerly.

Immediately, Jasmine grabbed your legs and encouraged you to spin around on the bed so that instead of your head dangling off the side, it was your legs. Matt grabbed onto both of your knees and guided them open before staring intently at your glistening core. “Your mouth was so good, can’t wait to feel your pussy around me.” His dirty words went right to your heat, and Jasmine furthered your anticipation with her own string of filth. “Mmm. Your mouth clearly knows how to make a cock feel good, let’s see if it knows its way around a cunt.” She gazed down at your puffy lips as she began removing her string bikini bottoms, and you whimpered softly when Matt slid his veiny cock tauntingly along your folds.

Jasmine lifted her leg and straddled your face, making you lose your sense of clear vision as her core hovered above your trembling mouth. So close you could reach it with your tongue if you tried, you took a moment to admire her. Bright pink and dripping from her own arousal, it took everything out of you to not grab her by her hips and hold her against your mouth. You were pulled from her trance suddenly by Matt driving himself into you. Your walls seized around him and you gasped at the feeling of his size stretching you out; your mouth turning into an ‘O’ shape. Seeing her opportunity, it was at this moment that Jasmine finally dropped her heat onto your face. Wasting no time, you immediately began devouring her folds; admiring her sweetness and relishing in the erotic noises that were slipping from her mouth all from you.

With Matt pounding into you, you were having a hard time focusing on what you were doing with your mouth as all you wanted to do was cry out in pleasure. Too pussy drunk to give into that temptation, you wrapped your arms around her smooth thighs and held her firmly against your swirling tongue. “Oh my fucking god, Y/n. S-so good.” Her words were choppy but she managed to get them all out before slowly grinding her hips against your face. You were feeling used in the best way possible, knowing that two people attached to different parts of you were able to feel so good. “Oh yeah, you’re so wet for me.” Matt cooed as he grabbed both of your legs and hooked them around his waist. You heard a half-hearted laugh from above you. “Pretty sure I got her started, Matt.” Jasmine taunted, and you suddenly felt her shift on your face; leaning towards your core while simultaneously moaning. “Oh yeah baby, that’s all for me, isn’t it.”

You moaned against her pussy when you felt her place a finger on your sensitive clit; and then nearly lost all control when she began rubbing it in tempo with Matt’s driving hips. Already overstimulated, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you came again; especially with Jasmine’s sweet juices dripping down your chin. “Mmm, gonna cum soon.” Jasmine cried out suddenly, her previously alluring tone turning into one more high-pitched and desperate. “F-fuck, me too.” Matt groaned out, his movements growing quicker and choppier. Feeling your own orgasm building up, just thinking about the pleasure that your other two friends were feeling caused the tidal wave to crash down once again.

You couldn’t stifle the throaty moans from escaping your lips and travelling directly to Jasmine’s now pulsating core as you both reached your powerful orgasms. You felt her legs shake on either side of your foggy head just as your own shook around Matt’s waist. Your nails dug into the soft skin on her inner thighs in the same way that hers dug into your hips. Your muffled moans used her body as a vessel to escape your mouth, as she sobbed out enough profanities for the both of you.

Matt’s orgasm wasn’t far behind yours and Jasmine’s. Just as you lapped up her residual cum, Matt let out a sequence of deep grunts before pulling his throbbing cock out of you and resting it on your stomach, pumping it a few times before releasing a river of hot liquid along your abdomen. You heard Jasmine gasp at the view she had had of Matt’s euphoric moment, and you savoured the satisfying feeling of his cum gathering on your stomach. Soon after, Jasmine lifted her heat off of your face, staying on her hands and knees above you but finally giving you your sense of sight back. Chest heaving, Matt looked down at you with dazed eyes and shot you a gentle smile as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Just centimetres above you, Jasmine’s voluminous breasts hung in the air and you reached up with your tongue and licked them both, not ready for this event to be over. Jasmine didn’t seem to want that either, as she released a soft moan before leaning down to your stomach and dropping small kisses along it. She then used her tongue and collected the pool of Matt’s cum in her mouth before leaning back towards your face and placing a hand on your jaw. Using her grip on your jaw to open your mouth, she leaned down until your lips were nearly touching before spitting Matt’s collected seed into your mouth. “Holy fuck.” You heard Matt whisper under his breath, clearly taken aback by the sight of his cum being shared between his two friends.

You swallow his cum before smiling flirtatiously at him. “You got another round in you?” You asked him as Jasmine climbed off of you completely and you propped yourself up on your elbows to take a look at his still-hard member. Without saying anything, Matt simply smirked and climbed onto the bed before attaching his lips to yours once again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him; deepening the kiss — the taste of all three of you travelling between your tongues — as he spun you around so that he was laying at the head of the bed with you hovering on top of him.

Still kissing you, he released a quick moan as Jasmine began bobbing her head up and down his shaft. He gripped your ass tightly with one hand and a clump of her hair with the other as his pleasure began to increase, and finally he groaned against your mouth before pulling your lips away from him. Confused, you were able to take only a quick glance at his fucked out face before he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up towards his face. Keeping your trembling figure hovered above his puffy lips, he then grabbed Jasmine and encouraged her to straddle his hips. Once the two of you were both in the correct position, he wrapped one hand around your thigh and another around Jasmine’s waist and pushed you both down onto two separate parts of his body.

Before you had even settled onto his face, his tongue began working magic around your clit. Your head rolled back and you caught a glimpse of Jasmine riding his dick behind you. Gripping onto the headboard of the bed for support, you couldn’t help but release incessant moans as Matt’s mouth worked your overstimulated cunt. “S-so good Matty.” You cried out and Jasmine hummed in agreement. Looking in between your legs, you were met with the breathtaking view of Matt’s cold blue eyes glued to you as he buried himself in your heat. The two of you maintained blurry eye contact for a long time, Jasmine filling in the silence with enough dirty phrases for the three of you combined.

“Oh god,” Her voice was trembling, “Your cock is so big Matty. And Y/n, you’re giving me the best view right now, grinding your pretty cunt against Matt like that. S-so hot.” At her words, Matt gripped your ass with both hands and held you in place before drilling his tongue against your clit at an ungodly pace. “O-oh god, gonna cum again.” You practically screamed out as your body became once again overtaken by that fluttering sensation. “M-me t-too.” Jasmine’s voice came out much less confident than it had been just moments before, and before long your synchronized moans filled the room as you were both riding out yet another mind-bending orgasm all over Matt.

Feeling more than dazed from your third orgasm of the night, you hissed and lifted your core off of Matt’s face when he continued to swirl his tongue through your swollen folds. “M-matt please no, can’t take anymore.” You pleaded with him between your legs. Matt fake-pouted up at you as Jasmine continued bouncing on his cock. “Please sweetheart, just want one more taste.” He wined out, causing you to sigh before slowly beginning to drop your pelvis back onto his face. Just as his tongue barely grazed your dripping core, the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open filled the room.

“Are ya’ll sl — oh fuck! Sorry, fuck!”

All three of you froze all movements and spun your heads to the door, catching a glimpse of Chris’ panicked face just before he hurriedly shut the bedroom door. “Uh oh.” You whispered, your hips now back to hovering above Matt’s mouth; hanging open in shock. Jasmine suddenly broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter so contagious that you and Matt both had no choice but to join in. “Okay well, I guess that killed it.” She said behind you through her laughter before beginning to climb off of Matt’s hips. “No.” Matt grabbed her wrist and your thigh, his tone so void of all laughter that the two of you had no choice but to snap your eyes onto him. “We’re not done yet. Both of you, get on your knees.” His voice was so commanding, you turned your head to look at Jasmine in surprise, only to find a sly smirk covering her flushed face.

The both of you followed his orders and climbed from your respective places on top of his body and onto the floor; side by side. Once he was able to, Matt also pulled his naked body off of the bed and stood on his feet in front of you both. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, all memory of the embarrassment you felt from Chris walking in was replaced by a new wave of arousal. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and he slapped his cock against it a few times before finally leaving it there; granting you non-verbal permission to begin playing with the tip.

As you swirled your tongue around the ridges of his head, Jasmine began kissing and licking along his shaft. Keeping your eyes on him the entire time, you watched in awe at his heaving chest and pouty lips. Once Jasmine’s mouth moved down to his balls where she began sucking them, you brought your lips all the way down his shaft; taking all of him in your mouth before bobbing your head up and down fervently. Caught up in the new sensation of two warm mouths toying with his manhood, Matt’s hands immediately reached for both of your heads, where he grabbed fistfuls of hair and held on tightly.

Small grunts left his lips as both you and Jasmine worked together to make him feel good, and you allowed his hand to push your head down as far as it could go before gargling on every inch of his member; vibrations of your own moans working his cock even more. Eventually, his grip on your hair loosened and you removed your lips from his dick to catch your breath. Without hesitating, Jasmine took over for you and you watched her full lips swallow Matt’s thick cock with ease before you began fondling his balls under her chin.

You watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, clearly approaching his orgasm. Jasmine pulled her head back, letting Matt’s cock fall from her mouth with a pop before both of you began running your tongues teasingly along either side of his length. Tongues swirling, the two of you faced each other. When your performing mouths both reached his tip, you brought your lips to hers and you both began kissing deeply. You moaned from the feeling of her soft lips as her tongue entered your mouth, and Matt began pumping his own dick as he watched the two of you impassioned with one another just below him.

“Shiiit,” Matt hissed, causing both of you to pull apart and look up at his trembling frame. “Open your mouths.” He commanded, and you two obliged with seductive smiles planted on your faces. Matt’s eyes glazed over and, with a quick shiver and a husky moan, vigorously pumped his twitching cock as his second orgasm engulfed him. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt your tongue get painted with his cum, and eagerly lapped it up before it had a chance to drip down your chin.

His pumping hand slowed its movements as he milked his dick dry, and his fiery gaze turned into one far more lethargic and relaxed as he took in your matching blissed out faces coated in his own seed. Catching your breath, you turned to look at Jasmine and her face was just as euphoric and lacquered in cum as yours, and you collected a drop that had landed on her eyebrow on your thumb before licking it off.

After what could have been hours of silent, uncertain glances between the three of you, the sullenness was broken by simultaneous laughter. Starting off as nervous giggling, it quickly transformed into full-body unrestrained howling as you fell onto your back, Jasmine clutched her stomach, and Matt leaned forward and braced himself on his knees. “How the actual fuck did that just happen?” Matt finally managed to ask through tears of laughter. “Oh my god, there’s no way we all just had a threesome!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull your body off of the floor; only just now realizing what had just transpired over the past forty five minutes.

“I’m just shocked we’ve all never done that before.” Added Jasmine, finally getting control over her laughter. You and Matt found each other’s eyes, shocked at Jasmine’s words, and broke into yet another fit of hysterics.

“Okay, okay. I need a shower right now.” You stated, finally getting to your feet. “Jesus, so do I. Every square inch of me is sticky.” Your face scrunched in mild disgust from Jasmine’s notorious lack of filter, but you couldn’t exactly disagree. “Round two in the shower?” You joked, and watched as both of your friends giggled once again. “Definitely not, I think my dick would fall off.” Chuckled Matt as he found a pair of boxers and began putting them on. “You two go, try not to do any weird shit, and I’ll go get some water for us.” You sighed dramatically, pretending to be truly gutted that he wouldn’t join, but truthfully you were grateful considering how raw your insides were feeling. “Fine, but you’ll be missing out Matty.” Replied Jasmine, adding onto your pretend narrative by jokingly biting her bottom lip as the two of you hurriedly walked through his bedroom door and into the washroom.

As soon as he heard the shower turn on, Matt threw on some sweats and headed into the kitchen to grab some drinks and snacks. Once he turned the corner from the hallway to the main living area, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Chris sitting on the couch; staring at him with a cheeky smile. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to deflate the situation, Matt chose to ignore him and continued over to the fridge to grab some sodas; however he had to fight the small smirk that he felt travelling to his lips.

Unable to stand the silence, Chris spoke up. “Dude.” He began as Matt hid his face in the fridge. “How the hell did you manage to get yourself in that situation?” Matt moved from the fridge to the pantry where he hunted for something to eat, once again unable to contain a chuckle from how mind blowing the scenario had been. “Honestly, I’m not even sure.” He replied, making Chris laugh. “But like how did you initiate it? Like did you just ask them if they wanted to fuck or what? I mean I knew you were drunk when you left the beach earlier, but there’s no way you were drunk enough to be that confident.” He pried, extremely curious as to how his typically reserved brother would have the balls to fuck his two best friends at the same time. “I didn’t initiate it.” Matt replied truthfully as he pulled a bag of chips out of the pantry. “They both sorta just went for it.” At this, Chris’ mouth dropped. “Holy shit, that’s mad hot.” He said before getting up from the couch and walking closer to where his brother was standing.

“You wanna give me some details?” Chris asked, blue eyes twinkling with interest, but Matt’s immediate look of disgust was enough to let him know that he wasn’t going to get much out of him. “Okay okay fine, but can you at least tell me which one was better?” Annoyed, Matt rolled his eyes at his brother as he popped a handful of chips into his mouth and began heading back in the direction of his room. “Chris, you know my friends are off limits for you. You’re not about to collect this information to try to slide in.” At this, Chris groaned. “That’s not what I’m doing, kid. I’m just curious if one was better than the other. Please just give me that, then I swear I’ll never bring it up again.”

Matt couldn’t keep up his nonchalant image anymore, knowing that he had done something that his brother was so shocked by. Before now, Chris had never acted so outwardly impressed by Matt’s sexual endeavours, because truthfully, he had never before done anything even close to being as crazy as what he had done tonight. Fucking his two best friends at the same time was something that he had occasionally fantasized about, but never ever considered actually doing. But now that it had actually happened, and that it had been so good, he could feel his ego inflate by the minute. He finally let a prideful smile take over his face as he reached his bedroom door before turning back around to regard his dumbfounded brother. With his hand on the doorknob and a satisfied glint in his eyes, Matt finally responded with a tranquil sigh. “They’re both fucking good.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[skyrigel]

“The Great War : Part 2”

Pairing: Benjicot “Davos” blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Part 1 of “The great war”

Part 3 of “The great war”

Benji masterlist

“ Benji makes a move, Aeron demands his sister back, you learn the truth—prehaps you would survive the great war after all ”

~ fluff, food feeding, flirty Benji, ‘Darling’ is basically his love language, mention of abduction, bashing Aeron Bracken ( loml)

Wc: 2k

There will be one more part consisting: wedding, smut and jealousy, a happily ever after. Join the taglist<3 xoxo

Request for Aemond, Jace and Aegon are open <3

Two days, you sighed, two days living on false hopes and whispered prayers, the smell of smoke still fresh on your skin.

Bright light shimmering inside and took refuge in your darkness as the flap opened, you looked up from your blood soaked gown and feral watery eyes, sore from tears and hopes.

“ Won't you eat anything darling? ” Benji smiled, despite his words carrying a tone of disappointment, his gaze lingering off the untouched food as he reached you.

Sitting down next to you, his back pressed against your cot, floor cold under your bodies.

“ C'mon, you will die if you won't eat.” His fingers brushed your jaw and you pulled back, turning your face to the outside chatter.

“ Wouldn't that be better ? ” you turned to him, He only beamed more, always flattered to have your attention.

“ No.” He said, bringing the plate towards you, “ Because your brother wouldn't like that and me ? I would be wrecked without you sweetheart.”

“ My brother ? ” you perked up, Benji shredded the loaf, dipping it in the cherry crushed jam.

“ Yes, your brother.” Benji cocked his head, bringing the loaf to your mouth, “open” he mouthed, you hesitated but eventually obliged.

“ When will he come ? ” you asked instantly, feeling your throat dry from days refusing food and water.

“ Bracken's were seen on the east fronts, if everything —” He brought another bite to you, “ — plays out good then he would be here by tommorow.”

“ Oh.” Your lips brushed his finger, Benjy's mouth twitched, “ I can eat by myself.” you said hurriedly, avoiding his eyes that could easily devour you.

“ I know darling.” He said calmly, Ben looked different in this light, his face clear from blood and gore, eyes not blinded by war and chaos but just himself, he was feral, you knew it, knew damn well all his bloodiness but this Benji who visited you everytime in these past two days, his skin clear, his youth shining, his words sweet, his tactics new to feed you, it felt like the very first time. You felt more dirty in the clothes he abducted you, refusing to bathe or change or eat, fingers dirty under your nails. It was a relief he was feeding you.

“ Then let me.” You didn't open your mouth when he brought the sweet loaf to you, his eyes softening as he shaked his head.

“ You are in my care, so you don't get to fret.” He pushed his thumb on your mouth, parting your lips in a gasp, too stunned to form any sentences, let alone for a comeback, you ate.

“ No.” you said, when he started spreading cheese on another peice of bread, his fingers red with cherry jam, like blood.

“ Huh ? ” he looked up, placing tomatoes on the loaf along with cooked meat.

“ Not hungry.” you looked away, not that you weren't, but you hated how your heart raced everytime he was near, hated how you would do anything if he said it the right way, hated how stupid he made you feel.

He dismissed as your stomach churned, embarassing you but he made no note of it, busy in making a flower with his toppings.

“ I thought about asking for your hand in marriage, the first time we met.”

“ We never met. You saw me and I saw you.” you snapped at him, Benji chuckled as he bit his lower lip, you looked away.

“ I thought you didn't remember making eyes at me.”

“ I was just looking ! ” your face grew warm, your heart lept inside your ribs, you wondered if he could hear it.

And sometimes you thought he did, Benji could breathe your hunger, sense your desires and it left you spiralling — did he know ?

“ ofcourse you were just looking, darling.” He was finished decorating the loaf like it wasn't going to be eaten but preserved through the centuries.

“ Stop calling me darling.”

“ Why ? Don't tell me you don't like it.”

“ I don't like it.” you glared at him, he waved you off, pouring wine in two goblets.

“ Then don't blush like that.” He sucked at his cherry smeared fingers, his mouth was warm and pink, soft like a breeze, how soft and sweet...so soft on your lips—fuckity fuck.

You flushed, feeling heat shoot up your spine, slowly crawling it's way to your face.

You grabbed the goblet, downed it one swig, ‘it's the wine’ you would jab at him if he pointed the crimson glow of your skin.

But he never did, Benji watched with his smug face, as your throat bobbled down the whole drink in one go, smiling to himself.

“ It would've been nice if your brother wasn't an idiot.”

“ Say that again.” You frowned at him, ready to bang his head with the decorated loaf if you had to, how dare he ?

“ No offence darling.” He shifted closer to you, running a hand through his hair, you winced at his sticky fingers but it was Benji, he would look good doing anything, stupid or immoral, anything and you shuddered at the feeling he tingled inside you. Stop !

“ but your brother ruined everything, first he declared for the cun—unworthy Aegon and then when I tried to make peace—”

“ oh, the bloodshed ? ” You glanced at him and he looked hurt for a moment before he recovered with a widened shit eating grin of his, streching from ear to ear.

“ It was your Brother and his plan.”

“ No.”

“ Well you have got no reason to believe me and you shouldn't until I prove myself to you, House Bracken and house Blackwood never got along and on that table when I saw you, I saw hope, I didn't mind if Aeron asked for lands or rivers or people or glory as long as he would bless us but...” You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his face crinkling,he wasn't crying but it was there, a proof that he could, “...He and his gitty lords betrayed my trust, no honour, no word keeping—”

“ Stop, please stop.” You brought your knees to your chest, feeling your insides hollow as he spoke and spoke, making you wonder whose sword it was that swinged first that day, his or Aeron's, which man died first, his or your own, because every word he said felt true to his soul and Benji did many things to you, kidnapped you, threatened you, played his silly little games with you but all and all, he never lied, not even to feed you, not even to gain your trust.

You were so doomed.

“ You should rest, darling.”

“ Go away.” You buried your face in the dip of your knees.

“ Right.” He closed his mouth, getting up from the floor, “ Aeron will come for you and this time we could actually talk about peace.”

He added sincerely, before smoothening your hair as you refused to look at him, feeling everything you believed crumble, going upside down.

“ Eat that when you're hungry.” and with that he left.

~~~

Benji was true to his word, By afternoon two maids came in, holding a dress, it was just a simple cotton gown with red flowers embroided and despite almost three days of refusing to do anything that was told,

You finally gave in, feeling your body melt in the hot water as soft hands brushed your back, combing through your hair.

Blood, smoke and many other things rubbed off your skin, you were finally clean.

Your eyes widened, heart bloomed as two men in cloak escorted you in front of a tent, biggest in the whole camp after where you were kept.

“ Go inside.” One said and you reasiled she was a woman, you weren't going to be told twice before you entered, it was lit only with candles. You squinted your eyes and before them stood your brother.

Aeron looked up, his eyes moistened as he saw you, joy knew no bounds as it filled inside you.

“ Sister.” He was already on his feet, circling the room as he ran and took you in his arms, picking you off the floor and swinging you midair.

“ you're okay ? ” you asked him, once he let you down and he nodded, bumping your nose, “ I should ask you that.” He said grimly, shooting a glare towards Benjicot, who was watching the whole reunion with a scowl on his face.

His scowl disappeared as you followed your brother's gaze to him, smiling brightly as he waved at you.

“ Now that we are all here,” Benjicot announced, and you were suddenly aware of many other unrecognisable faces in the room, all with pride and loyalty in their eyes, “let us discuss some very important matters that have continued to become a pain in our ass.” Benji looked at Aeron, who bristled away, taking your hand as he went to sit opposite from Benji on the council table amongst his important men.

“ Not there.” Benji said sweetly to you, immediately the chair next to him was pulled, “ Little dove, here.”

You blinked, glancing at your brother whose face was clamped in a bitter line.

Remembering your place and territory, you walked to his side, sitting next to him.

“ Did you sleep well last night, darling ? ” He leaned back as wine was poured to each lord, some of them were eyeing Aeron and his men very suspiciously, some only smiled with smirks plastered to their hard faces.

You gave him one pointed look before turning back to your brother.

The council began with a very drunk man howling how House Bracken took everything from him, fluent in curses as he threw one after another before you groaned.

“ Take Lord Hawthorne away, he clearly needs rest.” Benjicot said, as two hands helped the said lord out, still telling Aeron how he could fuck himself.

“ Now that we are back again—”

“ I want my sister back.” Aeron made his point, slamming his fist, his hair falling down from his bun at the force.

“ very well.” Benji smiled, all the lords hummed or tutted, like they knew something only the Brackens didn't.

“ last time when we talked about any exchange, you stabbed me in the back.” you watched Aeron for any sign of denial, you were disappointed, shit, “ which is a metaphor, ofcourse, you talked about peace, killed my men, offered your sister and took her away from me.”

“ There was no betrothal.” Aeron said simply, avoiding your gaze. Benji's laugh was humourless, more threatening.

“ You promised and I am asking for that promise back.”

“ In no life I would let that happen.”

“ Then you will face consequences lad.” one man spoke, he was older, his skin slacked around his arms and nerves popped up blue.

“ Your brother is stupid.” Benji leaned and whispered to you, as the council crackled at the old man's words.

“ What are your terms ? ” You asked him instead, knowing Aeron's eyes on you.

Benji's mouth curved in a smirk, his nose almost brushing yours.

He looked towards your brother, to catch his eye and when he did, he became the man you met on that table years ago for the first time, chiseled jaw, mischievous eyes, beautiful and crazy.

“ Marry me.”

Something dropped and you wondered if it was your heart, but that was just Lord Fester who passed out with wine pouring out on his face, and ofcourse your heart too.

You might still survive the great war.

Navigation

[leclerc-hs]

wait for your love - cl16

pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love—far from it…right?

“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.

“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.

His eyes remained transfixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your radiant smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”

“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.

“You guys are seriously too cute!” 

The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.

It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.

“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you. 

-

You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed barricaded behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.

“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like a thunderclap, commanding your attention and halting any further discourse with an authority that brooked no argument.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His gaze, cold and piercing, met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.

“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a meticulously manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to yield under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”

Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a stark contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.

He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times—or perhaps someone else had.

He watched as your eyes traced along his disheveled hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.

Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.

“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.

He always resented how you seemed impervious to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.

-

“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?

You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.

The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.

You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.

“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.

You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck in a sensuous cascade.

Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the enticing curve of your breasts.

You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like a tantalizing invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in the anticipation, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.

“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips. 

His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of sensation in its wake. 

“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.

The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.

“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.

Never, is what he wanted to say.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.

Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.

End of discussion.

-

“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.

“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. 

“What’s wrong with taking his number?”

There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.

Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men; in fact, men often vied for your attention. Rather, it was your own inclination against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles concluded in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?

“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed!  He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with simply exchanging numbers.

You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to dance through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.

“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”

Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, visceral discomfort.

Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.

-

“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand. 

His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face. 

Who were you texting?

“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.

“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy emanating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.

A date? He felt sick.

Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.

“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.

“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”

It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.

The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.

“Je dois y aller.” I must go.

Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.

Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.

“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.

-

You went on a relentless series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.

One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?

His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone served as Charles’ triggering a tumult of emotions within him.

“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.

Your eyes widened at his tone and question.

“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.

His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business! 

He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.

“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.

“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the sinewy muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his imposing presence.

You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.

“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.

“Oui.”

You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.

-

You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?

“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any garment you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.

“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words elicited a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.

You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.

“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily arrested Charles’s attention. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.

“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.

“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained ajar before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.

Tonight, he remained steadfastly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.

“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard—a genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.

-

“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, reverberating off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his in symphony. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your baking rendezvous added a touch of whimsy to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.

You stepped closer towards him, a playful pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.

You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.

His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again. 

“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.

He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.

It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.

His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips and melded with his own. He groaned in response, his arms encircling your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.

“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment. 

Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.

His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.

“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.

Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him. 

The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.

You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?

As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.

-

You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss. 

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.

You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.

You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.

“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.

“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.

He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.

“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the shifting dynamics between you two.

He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.

The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.”  A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. 

You didn’t deny it.

[coryndoll]

what would you do for love?

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— in which y/n spirals into a possessive obsession over her ex-boyfriend rafe. she quietly pulls the strings from the shadows, creating accidents, bribing others, and doing whatever it takes to maintain control—believing she is the only one truly capable of loving him.

warnings: dark!reader, rafe being the love quinn to readers joe goldberg i fear, or is reader delusional? world may never know !!

authors note: i couldnt help myself in writing this, ill write for waking up to you immediately soon LMAO, but i do have class today so it may be delayed even longer. if u arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !! notifications are always on <3

previous

you flinch when you hear the sharp shatter of glass nearby, some bottle smashing against the wall. a group of guys, mostly drunk and reckless, laughing as the shards scatter. your eyes roll somewhere else, anywhere else, away from the noise, the chaos.

you’ve been lingering around the same group for too long, and you need something new, something to distract you, pull you into a different space.

your shoes scuff against the concrete as you walk, weaving through people like you’re on autopilot, not really paying attention to where you’re headed until you catch sight of something—a fold-out table tennis table being hauled out of the back of someone’s beat-up van.

you almost laugh, but stas, your friend, is already there, pushing some guy off of her and reaching for you when she spots you walking by.

“y/n, you have to play!” she shouts, her voice a little too loud over the music, excitement making her words slur slightly. she pulls at your arm, trying to drag you into whatever drinking game they’re about to start. beer pong, flip cup, it doesn’t really matter. you’ve already had enough.

your head swims as she pulls you closer to the group, and you shake your head, gently pulling away. “i’ll watch,” you mutter, but stas barely hears you, already distracted by the table being set up.

stas keeps talking, about what? you don’t know, because you’re not listening anymore. her words turn into background noise as your eyes trail off somewhere else. across the way, your other friend shaw has set up his makeshift dj booth, some way for everyone to hear something rather than just screams, chants, and talking the whole time.

it’s not much of a dance floor, more of an invisible line where people stand around, swaying and talking, their heads bobbing to the beat. a few are bold enough to move in closer, letting the music take over, but most are just hanging out.

and there, right in the middle of it, you spot her. sofia.

her hips sway as she leads rafe toward the music, her hand wrapped around his, holding it above her head like she’s pulling him into some private little world. she’s got a drink in her other hand, laughing as she moves, carefree in a way that makes your stomach tighten.

rafe is smiling, but not at her. not really. you see the moment he catches sight of shaw behind the dj booth, the way he briefly pulls his attention away from sofia, stepping toward shaw to greet him. sofia, left without rafe’s guiding hand, stumbles for a second—just a second—but it’s enough. it’s like watching a baby take its first steps. cute, if you cared.

you don’t.

instead, your lips curl slightly. you glance over at stas, who’s still chattering about god knows what, oblivious to where your mind’s gone.

“shaw’s been eyeing you lately,” you say casually, tossing the lie out like it’s nothing. stas stops mid-sentence, blinking at you like she’s processing it. she turns her head to look at shaw, her grip on your arm tightening slightly.

you can practically feel her swallow, the way her expression shifts into something unreadable, and she tugs on your arm. “i wanna dance now,” she says, voice flat, but you can feel the pulse of urgency behind it.

perfect.

she pulls you with her, cutting across the skatepark toward the music, dragging you closer to where rafe and sofia are. no questions asked, and you let her lead.

you weave your way behind stas as you move to the rhythm of the music just enough to blend in. your body moves without thought, hips swaying as the heavy bass pounds through the skatepark.

stas releases your hand once she’s right in front of the makeshift booth, standing on her tiptoes and gripping the edge of the table, leaning in to talk to shaw. her voice is high, maybe a little slurred.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, stepping back for a moment, trying to make space for yourself. that’s when you feel it—someone bumping into you. the contact is light, unintentional, but it snaps you out of your daze. you spin around quickly, ready to apologize, but the words freeze in your throat the second you see who it is.

sofia’s standing right in front of you, staring back with a soft, almost shy smile, her lips parted as if she’s about to say something—probably an apology too.

she doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t recognize you, doesn’t have a clue.

you take her in, your eyes scanning her from head to toe. “cute dress,” you say, the words slipping out with a smile that never quite reaches your eyes. it’s polite enough, but there’s a sharp edge, a venom she doesn’t seem to catch.

sofia beams at the compliment, completely oblivious. she’s sweet, sure. her niceness, her smile—it’s all so carefully curated, like it’s been drilled into her.

the way she smiles up at you, so clueless, so unaffected. it almost makes you want to laugh.

you stand there for a split second longer, savoring the moment before stas calls your name, tugging on your arm, pulling you back toward the booth. you let yourself be dragged away, but not before stealing one last glance at sofia.

stas pulls you along behind the booth, and shaw greets you with that easy smile of his. without hesitation, you throw your arms around him, squeezing him tight. it makes you laugh the moment you let go. stas is right in the middle of it all, her laughter joining yours. shaw switches the track, a new beat pulsing through the speakers, and the three of you dissolve into your own little bubble, wrapped up in the party.

but sofia—well, she hasn’t moved far.

you can feel her eyes on you, lingering, like she’s trying to piece something together in her head. something about you must not sit right with her, something off. maybe it’s the way you looked at her earlier, or maybe it’s just that gut feeling people get when they sense danger but can’t quite place where it’s coming from.

she keeps watching you for a second longer, her expression faltering. she’s trying to convince herself there’s nothing to worry about, that you’re just some random girl at the party. after all, you complimented her dress, right? you even smiled—so what’s the harm?

but the crowd around her is thick now, people pressing in from all sides, dancing, shouting, moving like they own the night. she’s swallowed by the chaos. you see her hesitate, her movements more uncertain, her eyes darting around like she’s looking for an escape. and that’s when her gaze finally breaks from you—she’s searching for him.

you watch her weave through the crowd, her small frame almost lost in the mass of bodies, that anxious look in her eyes growing. she’s trying to keep calm, to pretend she’s not bothered, but it’s written all over her face.

the smugness spreads through you again, sinking deeper.

and then you see him.

rafe moves through the crowd with ease, his eyes landing on sofia immediately. he slips an arm around her shoulders like it’s second nature, his voice low as he probably asks if she’s alright. sofia nods, but you can see it—she’s unsettled.

and you? you just keep watching, your gaze fixed on them, every part of you relishing the control you hold over the situation without even lifting a finger.

then you hear it—some girl’s laugh from near the skate drop-ins. it pulls your attention away from sofia and rafe for a second, and you spot her almost immediately. you don’t know her, but she’s crouched near the concrete, spraycan in hand, adding some half-assed tag to the wall. her laugh is carefree, like she’s proud of her work, like it means something.

but your eyes trail away from her, settling on something else, something familiar in the mess of graffiti scrawled across the concrete.

blue spray paint. initials. r and s.

it should mean nothing, right? just random letters like all the other tags scattered around this place. but no, you know better. the handwriting—it’s too familiar, too practiced, almost like a signature you’ve memorized without ever really trying.

did you do this, rafe?

the thought sends a wave of bitter amusement through you, twisting your lips into something resembling a smile, but one that’s more cold than kind.

r and s.

simple. stupid, even. but it’s not. you know better. it’s rafe, leaving his mark, tying himself to sofia in a way that’s so casual it makes you sick.

and worse? he did it without you noticing.

it’s not about the letters themselves. it’s about what they mean. this isn’t just some random graffiti. no, this is a declaration—small and hidden enough to go unnoticed by anyone else, but not you. never you.

your mind convinces you that he’s playing with you, testing how much you’re paying attention, how closely you’re watching. and of course, you’re always watching.

really, rafe?

the thought burns as it settles in your chest. rafe cameron—practically born with a spotlight above his head—has the nerve to blend in when he wants to, to pull something like this off without you even seeing it happen. it’s impressive, really. he did this when your guard was down. when you weren’t watching.

you imagine him, crouched by the wall, glancing over his shoulder, making sure you weren’t looking. the thought twists something in your chest.

when did he do it?

when you were busy pretending not to care?

when your eyes were somewhere else for once?

he’s smooth, you’ll give him that. it’s a reminder, subtle but sharp, that he can always be a step ahead, always just out of reach when you think you’ve got him cornered.

you stand up straighter, licking your lips as that familiar bitterness floods you. the ownership, the jealousy, it all wraps tight around your gut. yeah, he’s got skills, huh? skills you didn’t give him enough credit for. he might be running around with her, playing his little game, but he’s still yours.

you smile, but it’s empty, more a grimace than anything else. it’s almost funny, really. the whole thing. r and s, like that’s supposed to matter. like it could ever really mean something.

it won’t last, and you’ll be here when it falls apart, picking up the pieces like you always do. because that’s the truth, isn’t it?

no matter where he runs or who he tries to hide behind, he always comes back to you.

he just doesn’t know it yet.

tags: @iissza @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @hoelesslyt @enchantinglovergirl @katekells @maybankslover @icaqttt @xcinnamonmalfoyx