#and chris is hurt or missing or something??

[ch0llies]

KISS IT BETTER | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - toxic!reader x toxic!chris

You and Chris have been trapped in a cycle for years. Fighting, breaking, making up, and doing it all over again. Every time you swear it’s the last, every time you tell yourself you’re done, he finds his way back to you and kisses it better.

story warnings: oral smut (fem receiving), fighting, pet names (ma, mama, baby), angst, toxic relationship (teetering on the edge of abusive), If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 5k

“Fuck you, Chris!”

The plate leaves your hand before you fully realize what you’re doing, shattering against the kitchen wall, ceramic shards exploding like fireworks. Your chest is heaving, your hands trembling, but it’s not fear that fuels you. It’s fury. It’s exhaustion. It’s the same goddamn argument, the same back-and-forth that neither of you knows how to stop.

Chris ducks just in time, eyes wild with rage. “Fucking leave then!” he yells, voice hoarse from all the screaming, all the wasted words. “Get out! No one’s stopping you.”

The laugh that rips from your throat is sharp and humorless. “Me?” You throw your arms out, gesturing around the apartment, the place where every fight, every reconciliation, every tangled mess of love and hate has played out. “This is my fucking apartment. You get out. You miserable, useless piece of shit- get out!”

You reach for another plate, yanking it from the open dishwasher, but he’s faster this time. His hands close around your wrist, rough and unyielding. “You crazy bitch,” he growls, shaking your arm until the plate slips from your grip, clattering to the floor.

Your breath is ragged. His is worse. For a second, neither of you move.

His grip tightens for a beat too long before he lets go, shoving your wrist away like even touching you is infuriating. You rip your arm back, rubbing the spot where his fingers left their mark, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin.

Chris runs a hand through his hair, pacing the small kitchen like he’s trying to hold himself together. You can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his fingers flex like he wants to punch a hole in the wall. But he won’t. Not yet.

“You’re fucking insane,” he spits, shaking his head. “No wonder everyone leaves you.”

The words slice deep, but you don’t let them show. Instead, you smile. “Oh, everyone?” You tilt your head, voice saccharine. “Guess that makes you an idiot for still being here, huh?”

His eyes flash, and you know you’ve hit the mark. He hates when you do that. When you turn the knife back on him, make him feel like the fool for always coming back.

Because he does.

No matter how many times you fight, no matter how many times you scream and throw things and tell each other that this is it, that this is the last time, you know he’ll be back.

Even if he walks out that door right now, he’ll be back.

Maybe it’ll be tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be a week from now, when the silence becomes unbearable, when the ache of missing each other outweighs the resentment. Maybe it’ll be two in the morning, when you’re both drunk and angry and lonely, and he calls, and you answer, and suddenly you’re in your bed again, pretending you don’t know how it always ends.

You do know.

But knowing doesn’t stop you.

“Fuck this,” Chris mutters under his breath, storming past you, shoulder bumping yours as he moves toward the door.

And for some reason maybe out of spite, maybe out of habit, maybe just because you need him to hurt the way he hurts you, you push him again.

“That’s right, run away,” you taunt, voice dripping with mockery. “Just like you always do.”

He stops.

Slowly, he turns, and when his eyes meet yours, there’s something dangerous in them. Not physical. Chris has never hurt you like that. No, his violence is different. His is in the way he knows exactly what to say to tear you down.

“You act like I’m the only one who leaves,” he says, voice low, steady. “But tell me, where the fuck were you last week when I needed you?”

Your stomach clenches. “That’s different,” you snap.

Chris lets out a sharp laugh. “Right. Of course it is. Because when you do it, it’s different. When you disappear, it’s justified. But when I do it, I’m the fucking asshole.”

You cross your arms over your chest, jaw tight. “You are the fucking asshole.”

His lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Yeah? And what does that make you?”

You don’t answer. Because you know.

You’re just as bad as he is. Maybe worse. Because you’re the one who keeps letting him back in. You’re the one who keeps answering the phone, who keeps opening the door, who keeps pretending that this time, it’ll be different.

It never is.

Chris exhales, dragging a hand down his face. He looks at you, really looks at you, and for a split second, there’s something softer beneath all the anger.

But softness is dangerous. Softness means giving in.

So you glare at him, at his stupid freckled face, at the stupid bags under his blue eyes, at the stupid mess of his brown hair. You hate him. You love him. You don’t know where one feeling ends and the other begins.

“Don’t come back,” you say. It’s a lie. He knows it.

Chris studies you for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering across his expression. And then he turns, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Your hands are shaking. Your pulse is racing.

You sink onto the kitchen floor, surrounded by shattered pieces of the life you swore you’d never let yourself fall into.

It’s no surprise that hours later as the sun is setting, and the world is going quiet that your phone buzzes. It was like clockwork.

You stare at it, the screen glowing in the dim light of the kitchen. You should ignore it.

But you don’t. You never do. You never have.

The first time you fought, it was over something stupid. It was years ago and you were drunk at a party, slurring your words as you accused him of something you don’t even remember now. Some girl. Some look he gave her. Something that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t matter at all. But in the moment, it felt like the end of the world.

He had laughed, sharp and bitter, running a hand through his hair as he glared at you across the room. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

You had shoved him, not hard, just enough to make him stumble back a step.

You hated him then. You hated the way he could make you feel so small with just a few words. Hated the way his anger was never loud, never reckless. It was always just controlled enough to make you feel like you were the problem.

And yet, later that night, you ended up in his bed. Your arms around his neck, his lips on your throat, moaning each other's names, both of you desperate to take back every cruel word without actually saying sorry.

That was how it always went.

Your phone buzzes again.

You don’t pick it up right away. Instead, you stare at the shattered plate on the floor, at the tiny fractures in the tile where it hit. At the reflection of yourself in the broken pieces.

You don’t even recognize yourself anymore.

With a shaky breath, you reach for the phone.

You answer, pressing it to your ear without a word.

His breathing is heavy on the other end.

“Open the door,” he says.

Your eyes flicker to the door. Your fingers tighten around the phone.

“No.”

Chris exhales sharply. “Ma.” His voice is softer now. Worn out. Tired. “Don’t do this.”

You swallow hard. “You slammed the door first.”

“You told me to.”

You don’t have a response to that.

Because you did tell him to. You tell him to leave every time. And every time, he comes back.a

Just like you knew he would.

The fights got worse as the years went on.

They stopped being about stupid things like parties and jealousy and miscommunication. They became bigger. Real.

Chris had walked into the apartment one night, the smell of whiskey clinging to his clothes, his knuckles split open. You were already waiting, sitting on the couch with your arms crossed over your chest.

“You were supposed to pick me up,” you said flatly.

He had exhaled, running a tired hand over his face. “I got caught up.”

You stood up, shaking your head. “You forgot.”

“It’s not a big fucking deal, Y/N.”

You had laughed then, cold and bitter. “Right. Not a big deal. Just like every other time you’ve blown me off.”

Chris had rubbed his temples, exasperated. “Jesus Christ, are we really doing this right now?”

You had shoved him then, harder than before, enough to make him stumble back. “Yes, we’re doing this right now. Because this keeps happening, and you never fucking care.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m here now.”

And that was what made you snap. “Yeah, and that’s the fucking problem. You only show up when it’s too late.”

He had left that night. Slamming the door so hard the walls shook. You told yourself you wouldn’t let him back in. You swore, this time, you meant it.

And yet, a day later, he was at your door, his pretty eyes wet and tired, his voice rough. “I’m sorry.”

And, like always, that was enough.

You unlock the door and go back to sitting down in the kitchen.

Chris doesn’t come in right away. He hesitates in the doorway, looking at you on the floor, surrounded by the wreckage of your latest disaster.

He steps over the broken pieces and crouches in front of you.

His hands find your knees. “You okay?”

You huff out a laugh. “Are you fucking serious?”

Chris sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate this,” he mutters. “I hate fighting with you.”

You scoff. “Then stop.”

He looks at you. Like really looks at you, like he’s trying to find something in your expression that he lost a long time ago.

His fingers brush your cheek. “Where were you last week?”

Your stomach clenches.

You shake your head. “Chris…”

“No.” His jaw tightens. “I needed you. And you weren’t fucking there.”

You close your eyes. Because you know. You know.

You had ignored his calls, turned your phone on silent, locked yourself in your apartment and pretended you didn’t hear him knocking and banging and nearly kicking down the door.

Because you were exhausted. Because you were sick of being the one who always stayed. Because you wanted to know if he’d break without you. He did.

And when you finally answered, two days later, his voice was cold but so sad. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

You remember the way your chest had ached at the sound of it. The way you had opened your mouth to apologize, but the words never came.

Now, he’s looking at you like that again. Like he’s still waiting for an answer.

You don’t have one.

Chris exhales, pressing his forehead against your knee. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

Something in your chest tightens. Because neither do you. But you both know you will.

So you let him pull you into his arms, let him kiss the top of your head, let him whisper all the things you need to hear.

It had been a month.

Somehow, against all odds, things had actually been good.

After that last fight, after the broken plates and slammed doors and the inevitable collapse into each other’s arms, you both seemed to tread more carefully. There were fewer arguments, fewer nights spent staring at the ceiling wondering when the next disaster would hit.

Chris started coming home earlier. He made dinner for you sometimes, even if it was just burnt pasta. You stopped ignoring his calls. You let yourself believe, just for a little while, that maybe things were different this time.

And then came Boston.

Chris had been excited to take you home, to visit his parents, to spend time with his brothers. “They love you and miss you so much,” he had said, fingers threading through yours. “I just want them to see how good we’re doing.”

And for the first few hours, you were good.

His mom hugged you tight. His dad cracked jokes that made you laugh. Matt and Nick filled the house with their usual chaos, and for a little while, you let yourself forget about the way things used to be.

Until she walked in.

Madisyn.

His ex from high school. The one you had never met, the one he never really talked about, but the one whose name had always felt like a ghost in the back of your mind.

She looked good. You hated that she looked good.

“Oh my god,” she said, smiling wide as she wrapped her arms around Chris like she still belonged there. “It’s been forever.”

You didn’t move.

Chris laughed, squeezing her back before stepping away. “Yeah, it feels like forever, hasn’t it?”

You stared at them.

You hated that he hadn’t told you she’d be here. You hated the way she said his name like she still knew him.

But you didn’t say anything.

You just went quiet.

Chris noticed.

At dinner, after Madisyn left, when everyone was laughing, when you were talking to his parents and brothers but barely even looking at him, he noticed.

“Ma,” he murmured under his breath at one point, nudging you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you said.

Except it wasn’t nothing. Because when you talked to his mom, your voice was warm and full of life. When you joked with Nick and Matt, you were animated and laughing.

But with him?

Cold. Quiet. Distant.

And it was driving him crazy.

At one point, his hand found your thigh under the table, squeezing in warning. “Perk up,” he muttered. “You’re being weird.”

That made you seethe. You had every reason to be pissed, and he wanted you to just sit there and smile and pretend everything was fine?

So you ignored him. You smiled at his mom, at his dad, at his brothers. You talked to everyone but him.

And by the time you got in the car to drive home, the air was suffocating.

The second the doors shut, it exploded.

“What the fuck was that!?” Chris snapped, slamming his hands on the steering wheel before peeling out of the driveway way too fast.

You didn’t even look at him. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting.” His voice was sharp, furious. “You gave me the cold shoulder all fucking night, and for what?”

You scoffed, staring out the window. “Are you seriously that fucking dense?”

Chris let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ. Are you jealous right now?”

That made you snap. “Oh, fuck you, Chris.”

He barked out another laugh, gripping the wheel tight. “No, seriously. You’re pissed because Madisyn was there? That’s insane.”

Your hands curled into fists. “I’m pissed because you knew she was gonna be there and didn’t fucking tell me. I’m pissed because you spent all night pretending like I was the one acting crazy instead of acknowledging that maybe just maybe you should’ve fucking prepared me for that.”

Chris gritted his teeth. “I didn’t know she was gonna be there.”

You turned, finally looking at him, eyes burning with rage. “You think I fucking believe that? You weren’t even surprised to see her? Have you been seeing her??”

Chris’s grip on the wheel tightened. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if you believe it or not. You embarrassed me tonight.”

Your mouth fell open. “I embarrassed you?”

“Yes! You were so fucking weird the entire night! My parents asked me if we were fighting. You made it so fucking obvious that something was wrong, and you just, what? You thought that was fine?”

You laughed, sharp and cruel. “Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t perform for you, Chris. I’m so sorry I wasn’t your perfect little girlfriend, smiling and nodding and pretending like everything was fine.”

Chris’s jaw locked. “You were being a fucking brat.”

That did it. Without thinking, without processing, your hand shot out, grabbing the wheel and yanking it to the right.

The car swerved, jerking hard toward the shoulder, and Chris yelled, his hands fighting for control as he slammed on the brakes.

The car skidded to a stop. Silence. You were both breathing hard. Your heart was pounding. You were lucky you were the only ones on the road.

Chris turned to you, furious. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?!”

You yanked at the door handle, trying to get out, trying to escape the fire burning between you. But it didn’t budge. You tried again. And again.

Chris had child-locked the doors.

You turned, eyes wild. “Unlock the fucking car.”

“No.” His voice was low, dangerous. “Not until you calm the fuck down.”

You pounded a fist against the window. “Chris, I swear to God-”

“No.” His voice was sharp, commanding. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Your vision blurred with rage. “And you’re a fucking liar.”

Chris laughed again, bitter and cruel. “This is why we don’t work. This is exactly why. Because no matter what I do, no matter how much I try, you always find a way to turn me into the fucking villain.”

You ripped at the seatbelt, breathing hard. “Unlock the car.”

Chris leaned back, running a hand through his hair. He exhaled through his nose, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

And then he whispered, “I don’t even fucking like you anymore.”

It felt like a slap. Your whole body tensed.

Chris swallowed, rubbing his hands over his face, like he wanted to take it back, like he knew how much that would hurt.

But the damage was already done.

You turned away, staring out the window, blinking back tears.

Chris’s grip on the wheel tightened so hard you thought he might snap it in half. And then-

BANG.

His fist slammed against it with a force so violent that the entire car jolted. You flinched, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you. Just let out a sharp breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, jaw locked so tight you swore his teeth might break.

And then he sped off.

The tires screeched as he veered back onto the road, the speedometer climbing. The tension between you was suffocating, thick with regret, anger, and something else. Something even worse.

He had said it. He had fucking said it. “I don’t even fucking like you anymore.” And he hadn’t taken it back.

Neither of you spoke the whole drive home.

The only sounds were the engine, the wind against the windows, and the occasional sharp inhale from you, trying to keep yourself from falling apart completely.

Chris never reached for your hand. Never tried to fix it.

The car pulled into the parking lot of your apartment, jerking to a stop.

Chris didn’t turn off the ignition right away. His hands stayed on the wheel, fingers gripping and flexing like he was still holding onto something he had already lost.

You stared straight ahead, your eyes burning, your hands clenched into fists in your lap.

Seconds passed.

And then-

Click.

He unlocked the doors.

The moment you heard it, you bolted.

The door flew open, and you were out, your sneakers pounding against the pavement as you sprinted toward the apartment entrance.

You knew what he had just done. You knew that saying those words out loud had fucking wrecked him, but you didn’t care about how he felt.

You didn’t care because he had let it happen. Because he had looked you in the eye and said something he could never take back.

And now, you were going to lock him out.

Just like you had that night last week. Just like you had done before, hoping and praying that maybe this time, he’d take the fucking hint and leave.

But Chris wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were about to do.

You heard his car door slam, the sound of his footsteps against the pavement as he chased after you.

You reached the door first, hands fumbling with the keys, but he was right there, his body closing in on yours as you shoved the key into the lock.

Just as you pushed the door shut, his hand slammed against it, shoving it back open.

You shoved with everything you had, every ounce of rage and heartbreak fueling you, but Chris was stronger.

You knew he was stronger.

And it fucking killed you.

He pushed forward, the door flying open as he stepped inside and slammed it behind him, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

You snapped. Your hands fisted in his shirt, and before you even realized what you were doing, you swung.

Your fists hit his chest, one after the other, a furious, broken rhythm of rage and despair.

“You! fucking! asshole!”

Chris just stood there.

He didn’t stop you.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t grab your wrists or shove you away.

He just took it.

Your punches weren’t hard enough to hurt him, but they were hard enough to shake through your whole body. Your vision blurred, your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps.

And then the tears came.

You hated him. You loved him. You hated that you loved him. You didn’t know where one feeling ended and the other began.

Chris swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides, like he wanted to touch you, to pull you into his chest, to fix this.

Your fists slowed, the fight draining out of you, leaving nothing but exhaustion and grief in its wake.

Your sobs were wrecked, broken, gasping for air between every sharp breath. “You can’t-” Your voice cracked. “You can’t just fucking say shit like that and then sit here and act like-”

You couldn’t even finish. The words got stuck in your throat, tangled with every time he had ever left, every time you had ever let him back in.

Your legs felt weak, unsteady beneath you, like the fight had taken too much, left you with nothing but trembling limbs and a heart that couldn’t take any more.

And then it happened.

Your body just gave in.

One second, you were standing, hitting, shaking with rage and crying.

The next, you were collapsing into him, sobbing so hard you could barely breathe.

Chris caught you instantly, arms wrapping around you without hesitation. His hold was tight, solid, like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

And maybe he was. Maybe he always had been.

Your hands fisted into his hoodie, your forehead pressing against his chest as the sobs wracked through you. “Take it back,” you whispered, voice shattered. “Take it the fuck back.”

Chris sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers pressing into your back, his grip almost desperate.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice rough, full of something wrecked, something you weren’t sure you wanted to name. “I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it.”

But it didn’t matter. Because he had said it.

And that meant, for at least one second, maybe longer, he had felt it.

You shook your head against his chest, gripping his hoodie tighter, like you could force him to undo it, to erase the moment completely.

“Just-” Your voice broke. “Just take it on back.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. “I swear to god, I take it back.”

“Do what you gotta do,” you whispered against him, your voice barely there. “Just- just fucking fix this.”

Chris held you tighter, like he could pull you into his chest and keep you there forever. “I don’t know how.” His voice cracked, something rare, something raw. “Tell me how.”

You didn’t have an answer.

Because if there was a way to fix this, you would have found it by now.

All you could do was cling to him, feel his breath against your temple, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs.

He was just holding you, letting it happen, letting you sob against his chest like he knew he deserved it.

But it wasn’t enough. His arms around you weren’t enough, his whispered apologies weren’t enough, the way he was pressing his forehead to yours like he could will this all away wasn’t enough.

It still hurt. It hurt inside when you looked at him, when you saw the guilt in his eyes, when you knew that no matter how much you hated him for saying it, a part of you believed it.

That was the worst part. That little voice in the back of your head that whispered what if?

What if he meant it? What if he didn’t like you anymore? What if all of this, every fight, every bruise left on your hearts, every time you clawed your way back to each other was just stalling the inevitable?

Chris cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming, his eyes dark, desperate. “Baby,” he whispered. “Tell me what you need.”

You let out a sharp, shaking breath, gripping onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. “What are you willing to do?”

His whole body tensed. He knew what you meant.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Because what was he willing to do?

Was he willing to stop fighting? Was he willing to fix this, to finally choose something that wasn’t self-destruction wrapped in a love story?

Or was he just willing to do the same thing you always did?

Fix it the only way you knew how.

Chris’s fingers traced down your jaw, then lower, ghosting over your throat, down to your collarbone. “Let me fix it,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

This was how it always went.

“Chris,” you whispered.

“I got you, ma,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek, then lower. “Let me kiss it better.”

It wasn’t real. You knew it wasn’t real. But fuck, you needed it.

You tilted your chin up, letting him press his lips to yours, slow at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to pull away.

You didn’t.

Chris deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you flush against him. The tension between you hadn’t disappeared, it had just shifted, turning into something equally as dangerous, equally as intoxicating.

You were both still burning. But this time, you were burning together.

Chris hoisted you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you through the dark apartment.

Your lips never left his.

The backs of your knees hit the mattress, and then you were sinking down into it, pulling him with you, his weight pressing you into the sheets.

Within minutes his lips were everywhere.

On your mouth, your jaw, your throat. Pressing into every inch of skin like he could rewrite the last hour, like he could erase everything he had said and replace it with something softer, something sweeter.

His hands trembled as they slid over your body, gripping you like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers. Like he was terrified of losing you.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered against your collarbone, voice rough, wrecked. “I swear to fucking God, mama, I didn’t mean it.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, forcing him to keep going, to keep proving it. Because words meant nothing in this cycle you’d built.

But this. This you could believe in.

His lips moved lower, his hands slipping under your shirt, skimming over bare skin like it was something holy. “I like you,” he breathed, dragging his mouth back up to your jaw. “I fucking love you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your face away. “Don’t.”

Chris pulled back slightly, his breath heavy, his forehead pressing into yours. “I do,” he insisted. “You know I do.”

And you did know. But it didn’t change the fact that he had said it. That he had looked you in the eye and let the words leave his mouth in the first place.

Chris kissed you again, harder this time, his body pressing you deeper into the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into his shoulders. “You always are.”

His lips dragged over your pulse point, sucking just hard enough to make you gasp. “And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

That was the problem. You did believe him. Every single time, you believed him.

And that was why you were still here, tangled in him, letting him worship you with his hands, with his mouth, with every breath he had left.

He knew exactly how to undo you.

His hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs, pressing kisses down your stomach. “My poor hurting baby,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as he looked you in your eyes. “I know it hurts inside. I fucking feel it.”

You bit your lip, staring up at the ceiling, willing yourself to hold on to the anger, to the hurt. But Chris was so good at making it disappear. So good at making you forget.

His hands slid up your legs, slow, reverent, fingers brushing over every place he had ever touched before. Like he was trying to carve himself into your skin.

Chris kissed his way back up your body, mouth tracing over your ribcage, your throat, your jaw. “I’ll do anything,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “Tell me what you need, ma. I’ll fucking do it.”

You knew that wasn’t true.

You knew that in a few days, maybe a few weeks, you’d be back here again. Shattered, screaming, tearing each other apart just to put the pieces back together.

But right now, it felt true. Right now, it was enough.

So you pulled him closer, legs tightening around his waist, nails digging into his back.

Chris’s hands were shaking as they pulled at your shirt, his fingers desperate, reverent- like he wasn’t just undressing you, but unraveling you. Like peeling away the layers of fabric would somehow undo the damage he had done.

His lips followed every movement, trailing soft, worshipful kisses down your body, as if he could replace every bruise on your heart with the heat of his mouth when he took your pants.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough with desperation. “I don’t deserve you.”

You wanted to tell him he was right.

You wanted to tell him that sorry wasn’t enough.

But then his mouth was lower, his hands pressing your thighs apart, and fuck, this was how he always did it. How he always made you forget.

He kissed the inside of your thighs like they were something sacred, his fingers gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear beneath him. “Let me make it better,” he breathed, lips dragging over every inch of bare skin he could find. “Please, mama.”

His voice cracked, raw with something wrecked before he showed you how sorry he really was.

His hands held you open, his mouth finding your core in the way he knew you needed. Like he was trying to earn back every ounce of your love, like he was starving for your forgiveness.

You gasped, your fingers threading into his hair, your back arching as he devoured you.

Chris groaned into you, like this was the only thing keeping him alive, like he couldn’t breathe without you, without this. His hands tightened on your thighs, his tongue moving in the way he knew would undo you, like he wanted you to break, like he needed you to.

You tugged at his hair, pulling him closer, forcing him deeper, and he whimpered at the way you used him.

“Kiss me better,” you whispered, breathless, trembling.

Chris was on his knees for you, his mouth relentless, his hands gripping you tighter like he was afraid you’d take this from him. Like he needed to prove himself with every flick of his tongue, every desperate gasp against your skin.

The apologies didn’t stop.

“I love you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I’ll never say that shit again.”

He was starving for you, for your forgiveness, for something that felt like redemption even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. His mouth moved over your clit, his hands trembling as they held your thighs apart even further, pressing his lips to the places he knew made you gasp, made you shudder, made you forget just who you both were outside of this.

You tugged at his hair, yanking him closer, and he whimpered against you.

Chris had never been like this with anyone else. Never been this desperate, this willing, this completely wrecked for someone.

But as soon as he heard you moan for the first time tonight, he knew he had you.

His hands gripped you tighter, holding you there, keeping you from escaping even though you had no intention of going anywhere. He was everywhere, tasting, kissing, worshipping like he had something to prove. Like every movement of his tongue was another apology, another please don’t leave me, another way to say I love you without words.

Your back arched, your head falling back against the pillow, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as moans left your pretty parted lips.

Every time you tugged at his hair, he groaned like it physically hurt him. Every time your body tensed beneath him, he whimpered like he was the one unraveling.

Like this wasn��t just for you. Like he needed this just as much.

“Fuck, mama,” he murmured between kisses, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, his fingers tracing slow, dizzying patterns over your skin. “I’ll stay here all night. I don’t care- I don’t fucking care. Just- just let me make it better. Let me kiss it better.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers fisting into the sheets, your body trembling from the way he was pulling you under. “Chris…”

“I know,” he breathed, his voice completely and utterly wrecked. “I know, baby. I got you.”

And God, he did. You couldn’t think anymore. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t remember why you had ever been angry, why you had ever thought you could walk away from this. Walk away from him.

Instead of apologizing with words, he was apologizing like this. With his hands gripping your hips, with his tongue moving in ways that made you gasp his name, with the soft, desperate I love yous pressed into your skin between every kiss.

Your body was on fire, your mind spinning, your hands clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

And maybe he was.

Because you knew love wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But you didn’t know anything else. You wanted it. You needed it.

And so you let him worship you.

You let him kiss it better.



for @mattsobvimyfav 🧡

[bullet-prooflove]

Possibilities: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19 @angelofthetrenchcoats

Companion piece to:

Bang - Eddie's new year starts with a bang.

Lifetime (NSFW) - One night with you makes Eddie realise he wants a life time.

El Paso - Eddie is forced to make a decision that hurts you both.

It’s midnight in El Paso and Eddie is lying in the spare room of his parents house, listening to the sound of his dad snoring through the wall as Christopher sleeps in room next door. He’s trying to resist the urge to get up, to check on him for the fifth time since he put him to bed.

This thing with the ventilator, it’s scared the shit out of him. When he’d stepped into that hospital room after the procedure he wasn’t prepared for the sight of his son like that, hooked up to a machine, one that was keeping him alive. He’d bawled like a baby in the men’s room afterwards, trying to stifle the sound of his sobs with his palms because seeing Chris like that had broken him.

It’s been a couple of months since then, Chris has recovered, he’s healthier, stronger but Eddie still can’t help but check on him every single night. He usually sticks around for a few minutes, watching the rise and fall of his chest before he closes the door quietly behind him.

He sighs as he turns his head towards the empty pillow beside him, his palm smoothing over the cool sheets. That’s the other thing that’s got him wide awake. The thought of you and the night you shared together. He’s not just talking about the sex, it was the intimacy of the act, the connection. He’s never had that with another person he’d never really known what he was missing until you. Now it’s all he can think about, how the two of you were starting something, how he ended it.

He wonders if you’ve moved on since he's stopped responding, or if you’re spending your nights the same way he is, trapped in the possibilities of what should have been. In his head he sees it all so clearly, the future the two of you would have had.

Nights tangled up together, mornings in his kitchen having breakfast, you wearing his t-shirt before you made love in the shower. He envisions birthday parties, cook outs, Christmases.  After that a dog, a ring and maybe a sibling for Christopher. You would have been happy he thinks, you both would have been and that’s the part that chokes him up.

The life that he could have had, not the one he’s currently living.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[purposefully-lost]

Thinking about Chris in any verse feeling so paranoid and worried about Rabbit's safety and then just so,, sad to be proven right when something finally does happen to him

[chlorinecake]

— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂

▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader

▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it

▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2

BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:

Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…

He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…

You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—

“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”

“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.

His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.

“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”

“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…

Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—

“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.

“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.

“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”

“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”

“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”

Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...

Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.

The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…

And he did.

“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.

“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.

“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—

“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…

“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”

“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.

“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…

Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.

“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…

“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.

“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”

He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.

Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.

“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.

“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.

His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…

At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.

“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”

“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…

“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.

“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.

You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…

However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.

And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:

You forgot to put your engagement ring on…

You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…

Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…

“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.

“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”

“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”

You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.

“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.

“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.

“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.

“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.

You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.

“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.

“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.

“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.

“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”

“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.

“Louder…”

“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…

He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.

The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.

“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.

He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.

“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.

“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.

“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—

“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.

He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.

“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”

All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.

Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.

“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.

“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[eph3merall]

dealer!chris n innocent!bff!reader who eventually have sex ...

☆ . . . chris is so so sweet <3 gently coaxes you into believing that it's okay. that it wont ruin your guys' friendship at all, even though he knows once he hits he'll want to come right back. he'll be damned if he lets his best friend go fuck some other guy.

☆ . . . chris ends up taking your virginity when hes high. you were slightly tipsy from a few drinks, crawling all over his lap and giggling like some puppy. he couldn't exactly help the hard-on he got, y'know? hes a man. you couldnt blame him.

☆ . . . the two of you were just talking, truthfully. after chris had finally managed to get you to loosen up a little you were so smiley and squirmy, accidentally rubbing against his cock without even realizing. tipsy giggles left your lips every second he said something, his mind feeling all fuzzy and not quite there.

☆ . . . the topic of sex came up. chris isnt sure how, or why. "you've never been fucked?" "no..? s'that a problem?." "no, no.. jus', you're missin' out." chris is chuckling and staring at you like he wants to devour you, and you completely miss it. "m'parents always told me to wait until marriage" and he nearly starts cooing at you with how adorable you sound, tugging you closer as his hands cup your cheeks.

☆ . . . fast forward and he's lazily grinding up against you with his hands planted firmly on your hips to help you roll them against his clothed dick. "ohh, i know.. feels good? huh?" the prettiest little whines are sounding from your lips that have been bitten raw, eyes glancing down to where you repeatedly hump against your best friend. "chris..." his name sounds so good in that whiny tone, said in a low mewl as you grasp at his shoulders.

☆ . . . you dont know fully why you feel like this, all hot and eager for chris to continue helping you rut against him. then again, it isn't all sunshines and rainbows for him either. chris is fighting back the urge to bust in his pants, holding you close and letting your body move slowly on its own.

☆ . . . soon enough, he's breathing heavy as his cock strains against his jeans. staring at your nervous face as you tug your panties down and he has to stop himself from grabbing you and sitting you down on his dick until his tip hits your cervix. he knows it'll hurt. and chris just happens to be so kind to his best friend, he's letting you sit down in his lap with both of your legs thrown across his.

☆ . . . your head leans back, his chin resting on top of your head as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt. "fuck, oh.. look at you. s'cute, baby" "chris.." you just sound so pathetic to him, as he hushed you gently. his other hand is wrapped around your stomach, holding you close and keeping your thrashing to a minimum.

☆ . . . your gasp turns into a moan when chris eases another finger in, the squelching sound of your own cunt echoing in your ears—making heat spread up your neck to your face. it just feels so... weird. your hips twitched gently and yoh didn't miss the chuckle that sounded from your best friends mouth, his free hand sliding up gently to squeeze at your tits.

☆ . . . when you start shifting around more and your hand grabs at chris' wrist to try and slow the sensations down, he knows you're close. a soft hush comes from him as he continues with his ministrations, ignoring the way you whine and cry about how you feel weird. "jus' let it happen. s'not a bad thing, baby.. c'mon, cum for me. theere you go" the wave of pleasure that washes over you is almost heavenly, your body tensing then going slack a few seconds after, lips parted in heavy gasps of air.

☆ . . . you think you would be done honestly, until chris is tapping the side of your hip with two of his fingers. "up, c'mon. gotta help me now" and when you shakily lift yourself up from his lap, you hear the sound of a belt buckle and fabric being slid off skin. chris' hands are looping around your stomach gently to pull you back—ordering you gently to close your eyes. "trust me, i got you. you trust me, right?"

☆ . . . of course you trust chris.. which is why your eyes fall shut—letting the brunette pull you back and sink you down slowly onto his dick. except your eyes fly open the second his tip is nudging into your entrance, a shaky gasp falling from you as your hands grip at his wrists. "chris.. that—that hurts, y'know." except he ignores you, clicking his tongue in his mouth and slowly sinking you down further. maybe he should've stretched you out a little more, but god, he was so hard to the point it hurt.

☆ . . . once chris is fully sheathed inside you, he lets you adjust for as long as you need. he knows he's big, and he knows you've never had sex. you were gulping in big gasps of air like you were dying, even though it was fine... chris' hands rub comfortingly up and down your sides, rolling his eyes at how dramatic you were. "s'kay kid.. stop doin' that," "no, i feel full..."

☆ . . . when chris was finally able to move without you throwing a fit over how much it hurt or something, he's thrusting up gently and cursing under his breath. you've turned around just so you could hide your head in his shoulder if needed, and you do—burying your head into the crook of his neck and letting his hair tickle your skin.

☆ . . . chris isn't sure how long it's been but when you squeeze around him he knows you're cumming without you having to say it, and he almost busts his own load right then and there. biting down on his lower lip, he urges you off him when he's sure your orgasm had washed over you—shoving your shoulders down to get you on your knees between his legs.

☆ . . . chris knows you aren't on birth control or anything, so he opts for a quick lesson teaching you how to bob your head up and down his length until he cums over your pretty lil' face. surprisingly, for someone who's never sucked dick before, you were damn good at it. fitting whatever you could in your mouth and then wrapping your hands around whatever else was left, just like chris had told you.

☆ . . . he isn't the best at aftercare. you guys took a shower and he seemed so awkward, because normally the girl he just banged would be out the door in a few minutes. but you're his best friend, so he just pats the bed and you two watch a movie or something. cuddling always felt too intimate for him, never been one to initiate it or entertain it.

☆ . . . you don't complain much. sure, it would've been nice. well, it would've been really nice, but you were a little too scared to ask chris to hold you like you guys were dating. were you two dating now? probably not. you've never really seen chris with the same girl for more than three days straight, and he's told you a bunch how he hates labels. huh. so why is that pit of longing still stuck in your chest?

—

ur girl wrote this with a vicious nosebleed. i lowk need to write for matt more so some stuff for him is comin soon hopefully !!! after i finish all the reqs i got tho

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx

©eph3merall 2024

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader -> reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[lokigodofmyheart]

JEALOUS

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: You and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. You loved him and he loved you. But your sexual desires weren't completely satisfied. Bucky never went more than a soft and gentle sex, afraid to hurt you. 

Warning/Content: smut, edgind/orgasm denial/ bathroom sex.

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Y/N and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. She loved him, but she was missing something in the sexual area. Bucky was amazing, of course, but because of his strength and his past, he was always afraid to hurt her so the sex was always too soft, too sweet. And she wanted more.  

After talking with Natasha while they got ready for the party, she decided to follow her friend’s advice: make him jealous. So that’s what she did. A little after the party had started, she went to the bar to get another drink, and a handsome man started talking with her. She knew he was flirting with her.  

At normal days, she would cut him off, say she had a boyfriend. But tonight, she wanted to make Bucky jealous, so she smiled and started talking with the guy. Bucky, from the table, took a sip of his drink watching his girlfriend laugh with the strange. 

His jaw had clenched, and his hands tightened around the glass. Steve could notice his friend was tense. He was trying his best to stay in his place. Watching Y/N having fun with another man, letting him touch her arm, giggling to something he said… Yeah Bucky was not happy about this at all. 

“Careful. You’ll break the glass.” Steve says to him with a small smile. Bucky barely heard it, his eyes fix on Y/N and the man. He decided he had enough, standing up and walking to them. 

The guy, named Chris, had asked her about her favorite color. Y/N opened her mouth do answer, but she was cut short when Bucky grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her close to him. His eyes were dark and intense as he spoke. “We need to talk, doll.” 

“Bucky, hey.” Y/N smiles innocently “I’m talking with this nice gentleman right now.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he sees you smile, he clenches his jaw for a moment before he speaks again. His voice is low and firm “No, doll. You’re coming with me. Now.” He didn’t wait for a response. Bucky’s grip on her arm was firm as he practically dragged you away from the man. She could see the anger in his eyes and for a moment she wondered if she pushed him too much.  

“Bucky, what are you doing...?” She asks, but received no answer as he kept pulling her with him, until they finally reach the restroom. He almost shoved her inside the place, locking the door behind them.  

He turned to her, his eyes dark and intense as he spoke “What the hell were you doing?” Bucky demands, his voice low and dangerous. He’s still angry, his eyes dark with jealousy. 

“I was just having a conversation.” 

Bucky scoffs at her response, stepping closer to her, his body almost towering over her frame as he continues “Just talking? Is that what you call flirting now, doll? Smiling, giggling, letting him touch you?” Bucky pushed her against the wall, trapping her with his body “What was that, doll? You were trying to make me jealous?” 

“No...” 

He raises an eyebrow, not buying your lie, he can tell that she was trying to make him jealous, and it worked. He leans in closer, his voice dropping even lower “Doll, you’re a terrible liar. I know what you were doing. You were trying to get a rise out of me, weren’t you?” 

A small smirk appeared on her lips “Maybe...” 

The man smirks, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness “You really thought that flirting with another man in front of me would be a good idea doll? You really thought that I would just sit there and watch some guy touch you, knowing you’re mine?” His hands moving to her hips, his grip tight as he holds her in place “You’re mine, doll. Mine. And no one else gets to touch you the way I do. Understand?” 

Y/N’s smirks get wider. He notices it and raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his expression “Oh, you think this is funny, doll? You like playing games, don’t you? Let’s play one then.” 

His hands went under her dress, between her legs. He looked at her a little surprised when he felt the soaked fabric “You’re soaked already...?” 

A small moan came from her lips when he touched her, teasing her through the fabric of her now damped panties. 

“You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” Bucky spoke with his voice low “You've been teasing me all night, doll... You were asking for this. You wanted me to snap, didn't you?”  

His hands lifted her dress enough to expose her legs and her lacy panties. His lips found her neck, trailing up to her ear while he rubbed her clit through the fabric of the panties “You’re mine.” 

Another moan came from her lips. She wanted nothing more than his hands on her, really touching her. Bucky smirks at the sounds of your moans. He's enjoying the effect he has on you, the way your body responds to his touch "You like that, doll? You like me touching you like this?" 

“Yes...” 

“Good." He continues kissing her neck before he pulled back, looking at her, his eyes dark, filled with jealous and desire "You thought you could flirt with another man and make me jealous, doll. Well, you got what you wanted." His hands ripped her underwear off her body, making Y/N left a surprised gasp.  

He smirks at her surprised expression, his eyes dark and intense when he touched her folds again, making a moan coming out from her lips again. Bucky run his fingers on her before he stopped at her clit, rubbing it slowly. He watched her face, hearing her moans, teasing her, building the moment and when she was close, he pulled his hand away.  

Y/N whines in complaining, looking at him. He then changed his hand from his metal one, doing the same thing. The metal was cold against her wet pussy, and again, when she was close to her orgasm, he stopped and pull his hand away.  

She let out a frustrated noise “Bucky...” 

Bucky looks at her with a smug expression "Yes, doll?" 

“Please...” 

He raises an eyebrow at her plea. He was enjoying teasing her far too much, he didn't want to give in so easily after her little stunt. His hand went back to rub her ever so slightly "Please what?" Y/N moans again. “Use your words, doll." He whispered as he continued rubbing her, but not letting she reach that sweet release, his movements slow and steady. 

“Please...” She says in a moan.  

"Please, what? You're going to have to tell me what you want." He continues to rub her clit slowly, loving how desperate she was. 

She took a breath, trying to stead her voice “...let me cum.” 

He smirks at her demand, his fingers rubbing a little faster "You want to come, doll? You want to come that badly?" Her head nods, her eyes showing how desperate she wants after being denied two times now.  "Beg for it.” his lips by her ear as he whispers. 

“Please, Bucky...please.” She starts to feel her orgasm building again.  

Bucky smirks at her pleading, his fingers rubbing your even faster making her moan a little louder "Please, what, doll? You have to be specific." 

“Please, let me cum...please.” Her voice sound so desperate, he had never heard her like that. 

He leans in even closer, his hand stopping mid-circle and he whispers in her ear again "Say you're mine, doll" 

A frustrated sound escaped her again, when he stopped for the third time.  

“I’m yours. Please...” 

He smirks at her words, his hand starts moving again "That's right doll. You're mine. No one else can touch you.” 

Her head nods “I’m your.”  

His hand finally starts moving faster, giving what she wanted. This time, Bucky didn’t stop when she was close, he rubbed her clit faster, putting a little more pressure and in seconds he watched as she fell apart. Her legs trembled with the strength of her orgasm.  He brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them "You taste so good, doll.” 

She was a little surprised when he took a step back, pulling her with him. He turned her around and bend her over the sink of the bathroom. He leans in close to her ear, his voice low "But we're not done yet, doll. I'm still not satisfied"  

His hand went between their bodies, holding his cock as he positioned at her entrance. He wasn’t gentle when he pushed inside of her with one hard thrust of his hips, making her moan. He didn’t give her any time to get used.  

Bucky’s hips started moving in a fast and hard pace, putting all his frustration of the night on her. And she was loving every second of it. His metal hand went to her hair, wrapping around it and pulling back. 

Y/N moans at the feeling. Bucky moved ever harder, pulling her hair back “You’re mine. You understand that?” She nods.  He growls as he moves harder, deeper and he pulls on her hair again “Say it.”  

“I’m yours.” She says moaning.  

He leans and speaks in her ear again “That’s right, you’re mine. All mine. No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to make you feel this way” 

She nods again. The situation and the way he were fucking her hard, keeping her on the sink, was too much and soon her walls started clenching around his cock. Her moans started to get louder and more frequently until she finally orgasmed.  

Bucky was close. His movements tarted to get more erratic and uneven, and feeling her coming around him like that was his breaking point. He let a low groan when he finally cum inside of his girlfriend.  

They stood there, silence for a few seconds, trying to catch their breaths. Bucky was the first one to speak, his voice gentle, a contrast from previously “Are you okay?” 

Y/N nods, not moving from the sink. Bucky pulled out of her carefully, and helped her back on her feet and turning her to look at him. He watches the tired smile on her face while he fixed her dress and his pants, before he pulled her to his arms in a embrace “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” She smiles. 

He looked at her, still with a worried expression, brushing some hair from her face “I wasn’t too rough?” 

“It was perfect. Really.” 

Bucky smiles back, reassured by her words. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss on her forehead “Good, I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

“You didn’t.” She looks at him, before speaking again “You know I love you, right? I only flirt with that guy to get a reaction out of you.” 

Bucky smirks at her words, he had a feeling that that was what she was doing but it was still good to hear a confirmation “So you were just trying to make me jealous, huh?” 

Y/N chuckles and nods “And it worked. Maybe I should make you jealous more often if it means sex like this.” 

His hands tightened on her, his voice turned almost to a growl “Don’t you dare.” 

[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[muwapsturniolo]

𝐒𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭

Headcanons

✘ fluff at the start, nsfw on the last part. sub!matt, big dick!matt, cuck!matt. mentions of hair pulling, overstimulation, nippple play, nipple clamps, degrading, being tied up, cum eating.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... turns into puddy when you come around. There was something about your confidence and casual dominance that made him want to do anything and everything you asked of him

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... refuses to make eye contact with you, always looking off to the side or down at the ground, but he never fails to miss the smirk on your lips when you notice his nervous tendencies.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... wasn't the one who asked you out, you asked him out - sort of. You told him one day he was your boyfriend and he didn't fight it. It was better you wore the pants in the relationship anyway.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who....loves when you speak up for him. He always had issues speaking up for himself, so he adored the way you spoke up for him in any situation.

" 'Scuse me, he said no ketchup, you all made this wrong."

"Ok maybe you should get your own license instead of begging Matt to drive you around and getting pissed he said no! He'll drive you to the DMV since you're so eager to be driven somewhere."

"Nick stop calling him sassy when in reality he's overstimulated from you and Chris hollering every damn second!"

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... used to be too nervous to ask for your attention, now he's like a kitten, always whimpering and whining for your attention.

"Why are you whimpering?" You ask as Matt nuzzles his head into your stomach. He says nothing, simply lifting up your shirt and pulling it over his head. You smile softly and caress his head through the blue material.

"Such a baby," you coo softly, pulling another whine from him.

✧₊⁺ Shy!Matt who.... shys away from the affection you shower him with. it's not that he hates it, he just doesn't know how to react.

"You're so handsome, my pretty boy!" You mumble as you begin to kiss all over his face. His cheeks instantly warm, the skin turning a rosy color. "Stop it..." He mumbles as he does nothing to push you away, leaning into your assault of kisses.

"Mmm, no. Now shut up and let me love you."

「 ✦ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... is sensitive everywhere, and loves that you use it to your advantage.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... loves when you yank on his hair, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip as his eyes roll back. He has a small thing for pain.

✧₊⁺ Speaking of pain....call him a masochist, but he loves the pleasurable pain you inflict on him. he loves the way you toy with his overly sensitive nipples, sometimes using nipple clamps or even trailing your manicured nails around the flesh in a teasing manner. He loves when you overstimulate him, his stomach clenching as his hand clench at the sheets. He loves everything about pain.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...has such a big and sensitive dick, that it hurts him when you deep throat.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who.... has such a sensitive dick that the smallest touch has him creaming instantly. It was embarrassing, but he knew you loved it. You would purposely trail your hand over the front of his pants and he would instantly harden, flinching under your touch.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...ends up crying every time you two have sex. nothing is wrong, it just feels so good and he never wants it to stop.

✧₊⁺ Sensitive!Matt who...loves to be degraded. The harsh and filthy words compared to the praises he usually got from you made his dick jump.

✧₊⁺ Speaking of degradation....Matt would never admit it to anyone, but he was a cuck. He knew his place in the bedroom, always being on the bottom, he could never dominate you even if he tried. So the next best thing was letting another man dominate you, and he watches. Of course he's tied to a chair in the corner, his fingers clawing at the armrests as he watches your eyes roll back. It's only when you're spent on the bed, panting harshly, he's being untied by the other male.

✧₊⁺ Continued....Matt would rush toward you after being untied, instantly yanking you to the edge of the bed as he settles on his knees. He'd spread your legs apart and dive into your cum soaked cunt, lapping at your folds like a dehydrated dog while you and the other male watched with amused eyes.

[sturniqlo]

KINKTOBER WEEK 2 | LAST TIME- C.S

summary: ex!chris and ex!y/n fuck for the last time at a halloween party

cw: cursing, SMUT; unprotected p in v, making out, hickies, belly bulge, oral!f receiving, handjob, cum eating, PINCH OF ANGST

an: happy second week of kinktober ;) | lowercase intended

masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

god, her friends would be so disappointed in her. y/n thought as she found herself with her back to the door and chris kissing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her warm flesh. it wasn't supposed to happen. "missed you." chris mumbled against her neck. "shh, just keep doin' that." she sighed in pleasure, feeling her panties dampen.

her and chris were broken up for about two months now. however, in those two months they have fucked five time- now six. her friends always got mad at her for it- yeah she was getting dicked down. but, with the wrong person, someone who didn't deserve her.

when chris saw her walk into his home, he went up to her before she had a chance to greet anyone else. before they had broken up, she mentioned she was going to be a pirate. and there she was, in a white mini dress that hugged her waist and ended just below her ass, her knee-high boots and those red lips of hers made chris crave her.

he had followed her downstairs and one thing led to another and now she was pressed up against his wall. "y/n-" she shook her head. "shh- don't wanna hear it." she tugged his hair, messing up the slicked back look- the glasses that kept it back were tossed somewhere in the room.

chris hoisted her up on his waist and carried her to the bed while their lips were attacking each others. his mouth was now smeared with her red lipstick but he couldn't give a fuck. "mm- so good, chris." she arched her back into him. "yeah? you like that?" he licked her bottom lip. she hummed, letting his tongue enter her mouth. she could taste the alcohol infused punch on his tongue.

"missed you, baby." he gently lays her down, his hands roaming up and down her thighs. "stop- just keep going." she knew if she thought about it to hard, she wasn't going to let him go. "needy?" he kissed her neck. "yes, please do something." she rolled her hips against his.

"y'look so pretty." he looks at her and kisses up her jaw to her red lips. "yeah?" she smirks, bringing her hand behind his head and running her fingers through his hair. "love your hair like this." she mumbles, bringing her head closer to her face so she can reconnect their lips. "gonna miss your lips." she shrugs his jacket off of his body.

chris pauses, pulling back. "what?" he looks at her eyes, searching for an answer. "what do you mean?" he adds on. "we can't keep doing this, chris." he's hit with a pang of hurt. "what? why? i thought- i thought we liked what we were doing." he sits up, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

y/n mentally curses at herself. why did she say that? "we do- i do, but we broke up for a reason. how will we move on if we keep doing this, hm?" she stands up and straddles his waist. like muscle memory, his hands come up to hold her waist. chris sighed, she was right. "this last time?" he looks up at her, his hands going under her dress. "this last time." she nods.

chris wasted no times and collided their lips together. if this was going to be the last time, he was going to make it last.

he pinned her down on the bed and attacked her neck, leaving marks so she can remember this night. remember him. "chris." she gasped once he nipped at her sweet spot. "you like that, yeah?" she nods. "please, chris." she grabs the collar of his shirt. "what do you want, baby?" he asks, taking off her red bandanna off of her head so he can run his hand through her hair- something he loved to to.

"want you, want you so bad." he throws the bandanna somewhere in the room. "yeah, want me to fuck you?" she nods. "not yet, wanna make this last, yeah? don't want you to forget this night." the trials his right hand down her front, and puts it under the dress, feeling her cotton thong.

"so wet already." he kisses her neck one last time before moving down to her thighs. he puts his head under her dress and y/n watches him disappear. chris presses a kiss to her inner thigh, biting her other one, making her flinch slightly. he chuckles lightly, and presses a kiss to her covered cunt.

he brings his finger and pulls her thong down. she gasps at the cold air hitting her wet pussy. "look at you, so pretty for me. so wet. i'm gonna miss this perfect pussy." he licks a stripe up from her hole to her clit. "shit!" she whines, bringing up the skirt of her dress so she can see him devouring her.

chris sucks on her clit the lewd noises turning her on even more. "mm, so sweet." he mumbles, continuing to lap at her wetness. "chris, so- so good." she stumbles over her words. just at the sight of him between her thighs makes her moan. she takes a mental picture so she'd never forget this. unhesitatingly, she tugs on his hair. "keep tuggin' on it." he lifts his head up to look at her, his chin glistening with her arousal.

he replaces his mouth with his two fingers, circling her puffy clit the way he knows she likes. "fuck- chris." her back arches off of the bed. chris soon misses the taste of her and puts his mouth back on her. he sloppily eats her out, a mixture of his spit and her wetness running down his chin and down her ass onto the bed. "i- i- fuck!" she squirms at the yummy feeling.

"close for me?" he quickly says. "yes- yes, so close. so so close." she moans out, closing her legs around his head. chris somehow forces them open and holds them still. "i know- i know." he coos. with a couple more licks and sucks, she breaks.

"shit! i'm cumming- fuck!" she yells out. her hips bucking up. chris doesnt pull away as he helps her ride out her high. once she becomes sensitive, he pulls away. "can i take this off?" he refers to her dress. "yes." she nods.

"how do i?" y/n giggles. "you have to untie my corset." she turns around and chris stares at the corset confused. "just pulls this one and untie it." she laughs. "shits so confusing." he giggles, getting the hang of it. once he pulls it off, y/n turns back around and pulls her dress over her body, leaving her fully naked.

chris soon folllows by kicking his shoes off and taking his shirt and jeans off. he hovers over her and kisses along her bare tits. he swirls his tongue on her hardened nipple, pulling away and blowing on the wet skin, the cold sensation causes goosebumps to rise on her body. "mmm." her hums, bringing his lips back on hers.

"mm, can i fuck you, baby?" he whines. "please, yes- yes." she kisses his neck, sucking a bruise onto the skin. chris groans at the act and tugs his boxers down his legs. "ready?" she nods, he runs his leaky tip up and down her slick folds. y/n shudders at the feeling. chris lines his cock up with her hole and slowly pushes in,

"oh- shit!" y/n feels her pussy stretch around him, "so warm, baby." he groans, throwing his head back. once chris is fully inside of her, he pushes her knees up to her chest and pulls back before thrusting back into her. "chris." she whines, bringing her hands up to her tits and squeezes them.

chris' eyes trail down her body until they stop to there's they're connected. he watches how his dick enters in and out of her, a creamy ring forming at the base of his cock. "look at that." he speeds up his pace. "chris, chris, dont fucking stop!" she moans out. "feels good?" his jaw slacks a bit at the feeling of her walls wrapped tightly around him.

"so good." she gasps when he hits that spot. chris watches intensely and his gaze falls on the outline of his dick showing on her lower belly. "fucking you so deep, i can see my dick." he thumbs the bulge. "so close. i'm so close." she squeaks out, chris hovers over her and kisses along her jaw. "yeah, gonna come for me?" he feels her hands come up to his back and digs her nails into his skin.

while still kissing her jaw, her brings his thumb down to her clit. "oh- fuck!" she moans at the added pleasure. "gonna cum!" y/n gasps. "come, let go f'me." he smirks. with a few more thrusts, she clenches around him. "i'm cumming, babe! chris- chris." she chants his name. chris continues fucking her until he feels himself get close.

he quickly pulls out and sits up. y/n wraps her hand around him and gets him to cum. "almost there- fuck- keep doin' that." he fucks her hand. "shit!" he twitches and comes all over her tits and some lands on her lips. however, she doesn't let go of his cock, still running her hand up and down. "can't- holy shit." he says.

she smirks, letting go of him and he collapses next to her. y/n brings her manicured finger up to her tit and swipes some of his release onto her finger, bringing it up to her mouth. "taste so good." chris watches how her mouth wraps around her finger. "fuckin' tease." he wraps his arm over her and lays on top of her, not caring that his cum had now gotten all over his chest.

"so, steve harrington, huh?" she breaks the silence. "what? oh, yeah." he realizes that she's referring to his costume. "you make a hot steve harrington." she giggles, scratching his scalp as he lays on her bare chest. "you make a hot pirate. but that corset shit was complicated as fuck." they laugh. after a small silence, y/n speaks up. "we should clean up." he shakes his head.

"shh, jus' wanna lay here for a while." he says, closing his eyes and enjoying these last moments with her. "okay- just a little longer." she agrees, running a hand through his curls. god, he was going to miss this- miss her.

[fallbhind]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝚰𝐋𝐅

ਏਓ WARNINGS: angst, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex(?), p in v, crying, arguments, chris gets pissed, reader get’s dragged by chris, DILF!CHRIS x CRYBABY!READER ✹

the last thing you expected was to be a dilf’s sneaky link. well—not sneaky link, but secret hook ups. god, it was every single dilf trope, except you wouldn’t admit, but you were such a crybaby brat. you didn’t get the exact louie vuttion bag you wanted, tears that could make the new niagara falls. you didn’t get your way, tears. if you got even a little bit hurt, tears.

who was to blame for all this crybaby behavior? your deadbeat dad, who to keep you happy, gave you everything you want. almost like it was a trade for being a terrible dad. then you moved with your mom, and next door was that hot divorced dilf that all the single moms, married moms, and any mom in between drooled on. even your mom talked about him with a vulgar meaning behind it. but kitty did she know—her pretty daughter was the reason he rejected every single mom who tried to get him to go on a date with them.

this week was your lucky week. though you did miss his daughter (who was often the excuse for you to go over and see him). she was back in chicago with her mom.

you laid sprawled out on his bed, whinging about how college was way to hard for you. which was something you did on a daily either way. no matter how much chris wanted to each over and pop your mouth. he nodded to your constant complain, scrolling on his phone.

then—you decided to whine about chris not paying you enough attention. “and don’t even get me started on how you’re always so busy scrolling on your phone when anne isn’t here.” you huffed frustratedly. of course, he somewhat understood were you were coming from but it was so hard to understand we’re a literal college student is coming from. “it’s not fair!” you shouted, even then, when you were complaining about him, he still didn’t give you enough attention.

“you know what isn’t fair?” chris hissed, grabbing ahold of your chin, “that i have to put up with a whiny fucking crybaby who does nothing but complain about everything because she’s a brat!” he shouted in your face. the tears ebbed at your waterline as you forcefully shoved chris away, heading for the door.

“fuck—baby ‘m sorry—” he stumbled over his words. now he was the bad guy. “—come back kid, i didn’t mean it.” his hand grasped at your wrist, a hold that you once went into, you tore away from. but these tears, they weren’t your regular crybaby tears, god, he made you cry-cry. he was actually the asshole.

you didn’t seem to care people would have seen you walking out of chris’ house in tears, knowing the speculations it would start, but he did. he was scared that his single-dad reputation would be tarnished because of a college student. now that, that was scary.

and your reputation would be just as bad, the dilf whore. sure that’s what you were—but it was supposed to be kept on the down low. as you reached for the doorknobs, the color in chris’ face drained. he grabbed ahold of the scruff of your neck, pulling you back, his free hand closing the door. it wasn’t like he was going hold you hostage or anything, he was just going make you take the route you usually go. out the back, over the fence.

“i know, i know.” he soothed, leading you towards the back door. he felt like he was caring for a child. a bratty one. he opened the door, pushing you out. he looked at your sunken, tear filled eyes, like waiting for you to decide whether you were gonna stay or go.

you looked at him, sniffing softly before answering the look. “i think we should take a break.” no matter the amount of begging or pleading he did, he knew you wouldn’t change your mind.

throughout that week of not seeing you, he became utterly miserable. then his little girl came home. and he wasn’t as miserable, pretty much like before you moved, just him and anne. then one day, you showed up with cookies at his door. he was so happy, trigger happy, almost. “kid, i missed you so much.” you ignored him, like you should, shoving the plate of cookies in his hand, immediately turning to walk away.

“wait—please.” he begged, “let’s talk.”

his fingers gripped onto your shoulder like you were his life support. “come in?” at first, you were going to reply with a stark remark, but like normal, tears overcame that. you looked at him with a soft nodded, making your way in. chris did not miss those tears.

his shoulders slumped. “anne had a sugar crash. should be out for an hour.” he muttered as he sat the cookies on the table before guiding you back to his room. you stood awkwardly, ditto with chris. he stared at you. “look— i’m sorry about last week, i was just frustrated and you, you just kept complaining and i snapped. it won’t happen again—just, take me back?” he begged, almost pathetically. you nodded softly, not needing any more explanation. why should you? you were a college crybaby brat. and chris, chris loved you, maybe?

there, it that room solidified the new mark in your and chris’ relationship. his hands tender, pushed your hips into his, whispering softly. “we have fifteen minutes.” aka, twenty minutes for make up sex.

you nodded softly as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, tenderly pressing kisses against your neck, nipping at your throat. you let out a soft gasp of surprise from the sudden contact of his teeth. he pushed his pirate girl tee off, your glossy lips pressing kisses up against his chest. drawing out a long guttural groan from his chest.

he slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the zipper down, whispering soft praises about how you looked oh so good underneath him. “i love you baby.” chris whispered softly, pushing the pair of jeans down. then he got to your underwear, it was lace—god, you were asking for more then you you handle. as he tugged the pair of pink lace underwear, showed the stringy line connecting to your hole, all the way to the damp spot on your underwear, bunching them up before shoving it he pair in your pockets.

then he thrusted his sweats down with a thrust of his hand, following his boxers. you let out a soft whine, as if to say he wasn’t going fast enough. “i know—just wait.” he grunted through his teeth, observing your body, pushing off your shirt. “function better with less on.” he stated, with that little of a reason on why he did what he did, he decided to get started.

chris aligned your hole with his cock, thrusting himself into you. you gasped, feeling cock in your gummy walls, your nails already attacking his back. “fuck, ma—” he grunted, “—try to keep the scratching to a minimum.” said chris airlessly. gosh, chris had barely moved in you, and your walls were all ready straining his cock. goes to show how desperate you really get without being dicked down every other week.

he started off with slow, paced strokes. going as gentle as possible—but man did he just want to devour the shit out of your tight cunt.

after he started to go off with faster strokes, his body moving with it, letting out soft grunts as you let out futile soft moans. your back arched off the bed, one of chris’ hand gripping onto your hips, readjusting as needed over time, the other settled on his forearm above your head to keep balance.

soon, tears ebbed at your waterline—what was wrong now?

you writhed against the thrusts chris delivered, your back arching further off the bed, your arms moving to wrap around the back of his neck. “sorry—it jus’, it jus’ feels s’good!” you cried out. his shoulder visibly relaxed when you admitted to it feeling good.

“i know.” he said cockily, deepening his thrust til he hit your g spot. you let out a moan that was a little to loud for his comfort, the hand resting on your hip, going to cover your mouth as he bullied your gummy walls. squelching filled the noise that was once your moans of sheer pleasure. your body tensed against chris’, coming on his cock, chris following not to long after you did.

[cvnntagious]

˗ˏˋ pornstar!chris films with someone new ‧₊˚

꒰part two ✩꒱ (coming soon)

creeping into chris' condo as quiet as possible with a wrapped gift in hand, a large smile took up most of your face at the thought of him opening it. though, the more you explored the area, the more discouraged you got before eventually giving up with a loud sigh at the realization that he wasn't home. but then, where was he? he always told you when he was going to be out, but today? he didn't even so much as leave you a text.

if not for chris updating you on his whereabouts becoming routine, you truthfully would've thought nothing of his sudden absence, but with a confused look on your face, you found yourself setting his christmas present on the coffee table in front of you to plop down onto his couch. you slipped your phone out of your back pocket, instantly typing away at it.

it was simple and straight to the point, leaving no room for confusion; you'd never been the type to beat around the bush. you weren't upset, really—more like confused, is all. and you waited. sitting idly on his couch as you waited for that little 'delivered' alert to turn into 'read'.

it didn't.

not for a while, at least. you ended up leaving his house only about half an hour after you sent the message, seeing no reason in just sitting there overthinking it. but you still did. going on about your day, trying to distract yourself from that nagging voice in the back of your brain that whispered 'where's chris at? what's he doing?' and 'you're not special. he got bored of you, silly,' at any moment you weren't occupying your mind with something else.

you knew you were probably overreacting; being dramatic in a way chris wouldn't like if he could hear your thoughts. i mean, it's not even like you'd be that upset if he had gotten tired of you. he was only some good dick and a person to keep you company... every single day for the past month. shit, you needed to know. picking up your phone in a swift motion as you now sat on your own couch, having tried to watch a show as means to keep your mind off chris, you checked your notifications in hopes that you'd missed his text.

but something new caught your eye.

a notification from chris' twitter, far different than anything you'd imagined throughout the day. of course you clicked it, a small breath of relief coming from you as you'd immediately told yourself he must've been busy with his executives. oh, he was busy alright.

your eyebrows raised at the sight before you: a short clip of chris plowing into some blonde with big tits, her moaning and whining in such a forced way. he was grabbing and squeezing at them. i mean, shit, he wasn’t even a boobs guy. it was so unlike him, completely disregarding his original intent for his content—keep it authentic. the caption only contained the hub link, telling his fans to watch the full video there.

dread sounds about right. a look of dread spread across your face, as if you'd just witnessed your worst fear. except it wasn't your worst fear. at least you didn't think it was, until now.

without thinking, you found yourself in chris' messages again, seeing the 'delivered' alert still there like a taunt. it was a slap in the face, really. not even the fact that he'd went and filmed with someone else, but the way he'd so clearly purposely failed to give you any type of warning.

once you'd sent the message, seeing the little text below your blue message change to 'read' instantly, it all suddenly felt pointless — all the worrying throughout the day, the dread you felt when you watched the short clip chris posted, the hurt when you saw he ignored your message, and now, even the message you literally just sent to him.

w/c : 645

a/n : i'm gonna try to bust these out the best i can, but y'all might have to bare w me cs i'm proly the worlds slowest writer... this may overlap with the au calendar as well, so to be clear, this isn't my priority. if i have to postpone parts of this to keep up with the prompts, i will. that being said, hope you guys enjoy my first multi-part tumblr fic <3.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[spinninhavs]

tense

pairing ;; matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings ;; oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, use of y/n, fluffy beginning and ending, softdom!matt, pet names (sweetheart n princess, etc), no actual p in v, lowercase intended !!

word count ;; 1.1k

a/n ;; this was based off a request!! had lots of fun writing this:) also sorry if this is bad im ovulating and im a little bit high

yk the basics .. pink is u , blue is matt !!

. . .

your pov

i stepped into my boyfriend’s house after a long shift at work. “hey chris.” i sigh, putting my bag down on the island. “hey y/n, matt wanted me to tell you that he was gonna be streaming when you got back.” the brunette boy spoke from the couch, sipping on a can of pepsi.

i nodded before making my way down the hall to matt’s room. i knocked softly on the door and a small “come in” was heard from inside. i slowly walk into the room with a light smile on my face. “alright guys ima go on mute real quick.” matt spoke into his mic, muting it then getting out of his seat.

“hey baby, how was work?” he asked me, bringing me into a hug. i let out a small mumble in reply as my arms wrapped around his neck. "could be better, my legs hurt so bad from running around all day. but i got a $100 tip from this guy since he said my ass was fat" i laugh, letting go of matt so i could take off my hooters uniform. matt was literally forgetting that he had been streaming the entire time.

“could you get me a shirt baby?” i ask matt, struggling to take off the tight white long sleeve uniform top. he nodded, tossing me one of his shirts that i missed terribly. we laughed about it quietly as i took off the extremely revealing shorts. i put on the pink hershey bear shirt, then body flopping down on his silk sheets. “im gonna lay down, my legs hurt so bad.” i pointed out as my body laid comfortably in his bed.

matt hummed, looking at his pc. he quickly walked over and sat down in his gaming chair. “hey guys, sorry ima have to end the stream a bit earlier. thanks for watching love you guys.” matt spoke into his mic after he unmuted. he clicked the red ‘end’ button before he stood up. “matt you didn’t have to end it” i smile, opening my arms for him. “eh its whatever, i was already streaming for a few hours so its okay.” he reassured as he laid down next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

he kissed my temple softly, rubbing my lower back gently. “tell me about your day y/n/n.” he whispered into my skin. i let out a small sigh. “well, it was a bit stressful. a lot of guys asked for my number, got a lot of tips since i had good tits and ass…” i trail off, playing with matt’s hair. “i also fell, so that’s probably why my legs hurt.” i pout. he hummed quietly, figuring something that could help me. “i can give you a massage if you’d like.” the brunette boy suggested.

my eyes twinkle a little bit, “hm i’d like that a lot.” i giggle. matt rolled over to his nightstand and grabbed a small bottle of lavender scented lotion from his drawer. i sat up slightly, throwing the blanket to the side.

matt sat crisscrossed while squirting a bit of lotion into his hands. “is this the lavender one i bought you?” i ask with a small smile. he nodded, spreading the lotion evenly on my thighs and calfs. his thumbs kneeded into my skin, making sure every inch of my skin got touched.

his palms massaged every part of my leg. i let out a quiet shaky moan as matt soon neared his fingers close to my inner thighs. he looked up at me with slight doe eyes. “is this okay sweetheart?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. i nod slowly, allowing matt to give soft kisses on my thighs.

matt’s hands ran up and down the sides of my thighs with a bit of pressure, leaving goosebumps. “does this feel good princess?” matt whispered as his eyes shot through mine. i whine in agreement, the spot in between my legs starting to ache. his fingers continued to get closer to where i needed them to be. “matt, baby.” i whine. matt hummed quietly, looking back up at me. “hm? what is it sweetheart?” he whispered, spreading my legs apart. i blinked at him slowly, “mh, i need you.” i breath softly.

“awh my poor baby.” he teased, his thumb rubbing small circles on my clothed clit. my back arched off the bed just a bit. his fingers hooked around the waistband of my panties and he slowly pulled them down.

matt looked up at me, his hand sliding under my lower back. his fingers traced my entrance teasingly, making me let out soft moans. “i barely touched you sweetheart, and your already wet.” he laughed softly, allowing his fingers inside of me. “mgh, baby.” i whine to the slight burning sensation of matt stretching me out. his fingers slid in and out of me easily, sending me over the moon. “taking my fingers so well huh?” matt purred, his tongue soon flicking over my clit. his tongue started to work wonders on my cunt, it swirling around my bundle of nerves.

i whimper out quietly, my legs wrapping around his head slightly. my hands reached down to his hair, tugging on it gently. a string of curses left my mouth that was falling agape. “fuck fuck please keep going.” i moan out. “such a needy girl.” matt whispered softly with a cocky smile on his face. my breath quickened so fast as his fingers continued to thrust in and out of me, hitting my g-spot repeatedly.

matt was determined to continue eye contact with me as his mouth worked on me perfectly. “mmmm. matt please dont stop it feels so good.” i whimper out as the familiar knot started to form in my stomach. “oh yeah?” he teased, letting his fingers out of my pussy and replaced them with his tongue. my back completely arched off of the bed, moaning out to the sensation of his tongue starting to fuck me.

i continued to let out small whimpers while matt continued to fuck me faster with his tongue. my eyes roll to the back of my head as my hips jolt upwards into his face. “m-matt im gonna cum.” i whimper, my hands pushing his head closer to my cunt. ”cum for me angel.” matt whispered, making the knot in my stomach unknot. he lapped up anything that he could and his mouth detached from my pussy.

his slender fingers curled up into me a few more times before he kissed my clit softly one last time. matt let soft wet open mouthed kisses on my inner thighs. “lets finish giving you that massage, yeah?” he laughed, as if he didn’t just practically make out with my pussy. “yes, please.” i pant out with a lazy smile on my face. we both giggled about it for the next few minuetes of matt kneeding his fingers into my skin.

taglist ;; @cheetahmadi @sturniol0s @luverboychris @mattsluttywaist

[chrisbesitos]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dangerous. 𔘓

꩜ warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and drugs, cursing, sickness, fluff.

꩜ synopsis: after three weeks, ballerina!reader and dealer!chris finally sees each other again, but now chris needs to do everything right, or else he'll lose you forever.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

It's been three weeks since Chris tells you that you were ashamed of him, since you screamed with him and threw the bouquet on his face. It's been three weeks you're crying in your room, because you miss him, even though in front of everyone you pretend you're okay, when you're not. It's hard to not cry when your favorite plushie was gifted by him, or how his scent totally missed from your bathroom. Your clothes don't smell like Chris anymore, only an old hoodie you kept and not washed since you break your nonexistent relationship. Even though you blame him for not asking you to be his girlfriend, you feel guilty for being ashamed of him.

You know you should've confronted your mother and said that you and Chris were together. You ruined everything, you should be brave, not a coward.

After three weeks without going out, only for classes, your friends finally convinced you to hang out with them. Lena said that you have to keep going, even though that means being without Chris. She helped you to choose a cute dress, do a nice makeup and forced you to wear high heels, even though you hated it, always makes your feet hurt. The party was filled with unknown faces, the music was kinda annoying your ears and when your friend handed you a red cup with a red drink, you remembered you just drink when Chris' around. He's not with you now, but you still feel the ghost of him.

Sitting on the couch, your fingers tugging the dress hem down, feeling uncomfortable by the size, it was Lena's dress. You mumble something to your friend, he's your dance partner and was talking about the next performance you'll have, but you weren't paying attention. He lazily embraces your shoulders, trying to catch your attention, you give him a small smile and then your eyes catch his figure.

He wasn't wearing his black clothes, like he usually does. He was wearing a blue polo shirt, his cap backwards, the lazy smile on his lips as he walked inside the house. His arm around a girl's waist, your stomach churn in discomfort, you bite your lower lip feeling a wave of jealousy fill your chest.

Who's this bitch? Why he's holding her waist?

You couldn't help it, your eyebrows frowned showing your visible anger, you stared at the cup in your hand and in a second turned the drink down your throat. Chris' eyes meet yours, he watches you clean a droplet dripping down in the corner of your mouth. His jaw clenched when he saw your dance partner arm around your shoulders, he leans his head to the left as he gave you an angry smile, he holds the girl's waist harder. You take a sharp breath and smash the red cup around your hands.

"Jeez, Y/N." Lena says, chuckling as your evident anger. She turns her head to the right and sees Chris, now knowing why you're irritated. She leans her body and touches you tight, catching your attention. "Forget about him, we're not here for this, remember?"

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care about him anymore." You lie. You clearly care about him and see him with another girl breaks your heart, you feel your eyes getting glassy and your nose burns. "I'm going to get another drink." You lift from the couch, walking towards the kitchen.

You throw the smashed cup in the trash, take another one and fill it with the red drink. You swallow at once, putting your hand behind your chin to clean the droplets, you were about to fill the red cup again when a hand grabbed your wrist. The silver bracelet on the wrist and the familiar scent.

"Get your hands off me." You mumble, showing your anger and jealousy. Chris laughs sarcastically, he leans his head and puts his mouth close to your ear, close enough to you hear his breath.

"Drop that fuckin' attitude." He whispers. Chris turns your body by your wrist, your eyes burning in fire staring at his. His other hand is grabbing your waist, pressing his fingertips on your skin covered by the black dress. You would've resisted his touch if you weren't mad at him, but you are and you're not together anymore.

"Go fuck the girl you were holding and forget me." You say, pushing his chest and walking away from him. Chris punches the table, the noise making some people look at him, he sighs with his nose scrunched and walks back to his group of friends.

He wasn't with the girl he was holding the waist, actually she's just a childhood friend of him and his brothers and she's hundred percent not into guys, since she's a lesbian. But you didn't know, you feel the jealousy burn in your chest, wanting to punch the girl's face. You walk back to the couch, sitting in the middle of Lena and Adrien, your dance partner, they didn't ask what's the problem, not even when you grabbed Adrien's cup from his hand. They just let you forget all your problems for a night.

You can feel your head dizzy, your eyes look foggy, but you don't care. You giggling like crazy over something a random guy said, but you didn't even know what he was saying, because you're too drunk to pay attention. Unlike you, Chris didn't put even a drop of alcohol in his mouth, he watched you the whole night like a hunter watches his prey. Paying attention to every move you did, like when you almost fell and your new boyfriend — he thought — held you by the waist, you hugged him. This makes Chris' blood boil, but he didn't do anything, because he was waiting for the moment you'll need him, because he knew you would need.

Chris didn't want to go to this party, not because he doesn't like the host, but because he wasn't in the mood. But when Matt told him you would be there, he changed his mind. A couple of days ago, he had a conversation with Matt, he helped Chris to realize his feelings for you.

[ flashback ]

"What's wrong with ya'?" Matt asks, grabbing a drink from the fridge. Chris shakes his shoulders, busy watching a movie on the TV. He's been watching movies and locked in his room for weeks, Matt was tired of watching his brother suffering because of a relationship.

Even though Chris didn't say anything about breaking up with you, Matt knew something was off, because it's been three weeks since the last time he saw you in their house. The last time, you and Chris were making out in the kitchen. Even if he hates it when you do that, he still doesn't want to see Chris like this.

"Where's Y/N? It's been years since the last time I saw her." Matt says again, walking towards the couch. Chris glances at him, huffing and rolling his eyes.

"I don't fuckin' know, leave me alone." He snaps, looking at Matt with his eyebrows frowned in anger. Matt throws his hand, taking a deep breath next.

"Did you break up?" He asks, sipping his soda and staring at Chris. He looks at Matt, thinking about leaving the living room, but he just sighs and slowly nods with his head. "I saw the bouquet in the trash."

"She threw on me." Chris says, crossing his arms on his chest as Matt nods with his head, leaning his body to rest the soda can on the coffee table and grabbing the wallet above them. "I went to see her dance, ya' know? But when we were leaving her mother appeared and she saw I was a friend of her, do ya' believe it? I defended her from her stupid mother and all I received was being called a friend." He takes a sharp breath, his eyes burning wanting to cry. Actually, he didn't even know why he wanted to cry. "In the car she got mad at me, said that I never asked her, so she wasn't wrong, damn."

"Wait, you're telling me that you got mad at her because she called you a friend, but you didn't even ask her out?" Matt asks, trying to understand the whole story, but Chris catches his sarcastic tone. He shakes his head in disbelief as he lights the joint on his lips, he takes a hit and a cloud of smoke goes out of his mouth as he says. "She wasn't wrong as much as you think she wasn't, you clearly were just friends with benefits."

"I can't believe that shit, Matt." Chris says, throwing his hands on his lap. Matt giggles letting out a bit of smoke, Chris grabs the joint from his lips and takes a hint.

"Yeah, actually friends with benefits don't have feelings for each other. You're just an idiot."

Feelings. Feelings? Chris never thought of this possibility, because he never thought he would be in love with someone, even though this someone was you. A strange feeling fills his chest, thinking about the moments he spent together with you, all of the deals you went with him, the night you spent together, everything. Since Chris met you, all he wanted was you, he literally blocked all the girls he usually had sex, because you were special. You deserve more than sex, you deserve everything and he ruined everything.

"So you're gonna stay here acting like a stupid or you gonna do anything to fix the things with her?"

"I don't know what to do, actually." Chris assumes. Matt shakes his head.

"Well, she'll be at a party tomorrow night, at Henry's house. I know you hate him, but is your chance to do something." Chris rolls his eyes, he hates Henry, but he can hold it for you, but just for a night. If he sees him again, he'll punch his face for the day he tries to flirt with you. Chris nods, accepting going to the party with his friends, just for you.

"How do you know all that shit? You must've a secret girlfriend." Chris teases, grabbing the joint from his hand again.

"I'm just smarter than you, Chris." Matt says, Chris smacked his shoulder. "And I don't have a secret girlfriend, because I know how friends with benefits work."

[ end of the flashback ]

So, Chris now knows his feelings for you and wants desperately to fix the things with you, but you apparently already find it a new one. He's jealous, of course he's, because his look speaks more than words. Matt offers him a joint, he's doing the deals tonight, since Chris is busy watching you, but he denies. He wants to stay sober, like this he could keep taking care of you, because he didn't trust anyone in this party. He knows he'll not fix anything with you in that drunk state, but at least he wants to know everything is okay, because he cares about you too much to leave you alone somewhere, even though you were with your friends, he's the only one who can keep you safe.

"Shit, doll." Chris mumbles when he sees you lift from the couch and stumble until the bathroom hallway, your friends run to you, but Chris stops them. "I'll take care of her, you did enough for tonight." He says, stepping up his walk to the bathroom.

The door was unlocked, he quickly stepped in and closed the door again. He lowered behind your back, caressing your back and tugging your hair from your face as you put your guts out. Chris sighs, he knows this would happen, you can't drink that much and your stupid friends didn't stop you.

"Get out." You mumble, breathing hard. Chris didn't answer, he just keeps caressing your back until you feel better.

"You good?" He puts his hands on your forehead, lifting your head and pulling you next to his body.

"Mhm." You hum, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand. You let Chris lay your body against his, you rest your head on his chest, taking deep breaths as he massages your scalp with his fingertips. "I'm gonna find my friends." You say, trying to lift from the ground, but your legs look like noodles, Chris stops you.

"You're not going anywhere in that state, you're going home with me." Chris demands, lifting from the ground and then holds you under your armpits. You're so stubborn, but he's stronger than this.

"Why are you doing this with me? Treating me like I'm a baby!" You huff, resting your hands on the sink, when you almost lose the balance. Chris sighs, he flushes the toilet and asks you to watch your mouth. You did it and he holds you by the waist, in case you lose the balance again. "I'm not going home, you're not my boyfriend."

"I might not, but I still know you, so I'm gonna take care of your drunk ass." He snaps, but regrets when your lower lip turns into a pouty. You look so cute pounding, he almost smiles. "You're going to make this easy for you or I have to carry you to the car?" He asks, you cross your arms against your chest staring at him. "Fine, you choose this."

He grabs your waist and lifts you from the ground, putting his arm under your thighs. You try to fight against him, but you're weaker than him sober, in a drunk state is even worse. Chris walks out of the bathroom, carrying you until his group of friends, looking for Matt. He smiles when he sees you together, but they disappear when he sees you look kinda angry.

"Hey, can I leave with the car?" Chris asks, ignoring you mumbling curses to him. Matt just nods and gives him the car keys, he can leave later with Nate. "Tell her friends she's fine."

"I'm not leaving." You mumble. You give up the fight against Chris, just accept the fact he'll not let you stay in the party.

"You already are, doll." Chris says, laughing.

He walks towards the car, he opens the door for you and gently puts you inside, helping with the belt. When he was walking around the car to get on the driver seat, you start to remember the night of the fight. How upset you feel — and still feeling —, the way you screamed at Chris and threw the flowers on him. The flowers were so beautiful and you just threw them on his face. Suddenly, you feel the urge to cry, the car in silence again making it worse.

"What did you. . . Oh, doll, why are you crying?" Chris asks when he hears your sobs, at first he thought you were trying to say something. He sighs, stopping at the red lights, he turns to you and cleans the tears on your cheeks. "No, no. Don't cry like this, there's no reason."

"I didn't mean to throw the flowers on you, I love that bouquet. They smelled so good and it was so beautiful." You sob, looking like someone has turned the faucet of your eyes on. The tears falling one after another, dripping from your chin. Chris coos, giving you a sad smile, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"It's okay, babydoll. I'll buy you a new bouquet." Chris says. You take a sharp breath, slowly nodding, cleaning your tears with the back of your hand, but still hiccuping.

"Stop crying now, you're gonna gag."

Your hiccups already stopped when you got home, Chris parked the car and jumped out. He helps you to get out of the car and carry you to the door, Lena is with your purse at the party, but fortunately Chris still has his keys. Chris walks towards the kitchen, putting you on the balcony, he looks for a glass in the cabinet, putting cold water for you. You drink the whole water and give the glass to Chris, mumbling a 'thank you'. He carries you to your room, you're not complaining about anything anymore, actually you snuggle on Chris' chest, slowly falling asleep.

He changes your clothes, even though you are kinda sweaty, doesn't feel right to give you a shower in the state you are in and not resolved yet. Chris just puts on you one of your cute and fluff pajamas and cleans the makeup on your face, like he always does. You smile lazily at Chris, he kisses your forehead, climbing out of the bed to throw the dirty cotton in the trash. He walks back to cover you and say goodnight, but you stare at him with a little pouty on your lip.

"What's wrong, hm? You feeling sick again?" Chris asks as he pats your hair. You shake your head, shifting to the right. "You want me to sleep with you? No, doll, not tonight."

"Just stay with me until I sleep, please." You always convince Chris with a pouty. He nods and slowly climbs on the bed, putting himself under the blanket, he massages your scalp to help you feel drowsy, more than you always are feeling. "I want to say sorry." You whisper.

"We talk by the morning, doll. Just sleep, I'm not going anywhere." He keeps massaging your hair, you just nod and slowly close your eyes, quickly falling asleep. Chris stayed with you for only an hour, when he was sure you wouldn't wake up, he moved towards the couch to sleep there.

He keeps awake for another hour, wondering about you. He's scared, what if you don't want him again and knock you out? Or you throw something worse than flowers on his face? He just wants to fix everything with you and finally ask you out, he's not the best romantic, but he'll do the best for you. He falls asleep at some point, on the couch you used to watch movies, make out and. . . Well, whatever.

You wake up with a terrible headache, at least you're on your own bed. Your stomach groans when you smell the scent of food, you frown your eyebrows wanting to know who's cooking. When you climb out of the bed, your feet are covered with socks, you stretch your hair as you walk downstairs, the smell gets more delicious, your mouth is already watering. To your surprise, when you got in the kitchen, the table had pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, you don't like it, just Chris.

Chris was putting boiling water on two mugs, you smell your favorite tea. A smile grows on your lips, you wait for him to turn around and see you. He almost scared himself when he turns and sees you standing there with your eyes puffy and your hair messed.

"I made breakfast." He says, smiling and showing the mugs with tea. You lift your eyebrows, Chris doesn't know how to cook, you look at the balcony and see the delivery bags, you giggle. "Okay, I bought breakfast, but I made tea."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." You say, walking forward the chair, Chris puts your mug on the table near you. You frown your eyebrows in confusion when he puts his mug down and walks to the laundry, he returns with a big bouquet of roses with a little piece of paper, a letter. "Oh, Chris. Thank you, you didn't have to."

"I told you I would buy you flowers." He walks until you, giving you the bouquet. You grab it, holding it next to your nose to smell the scent, Chris kneels down, waiting for you to read his letter. You pick the paper smiling. "Doll, I'm really sorry, I never meant to say what I said. You're the one that I want. With love, Chris." You read.

"So, do you forgive me?* Chris asks, rubbing your thigh, staring at you with puppy eyes. You never saw him look at you like this before, you find it so cute.

"You don't even have to ask!" You say. Chris lifts from the ground and holds your chin, pressing your lips together. You missed his touch so much and Chris missed you too, he was about to fall sick without you. "Wait, I'm sorry for throwing the flowers on you and for not telling my mom we were together."

"You weren't wrong, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, but now I'm gonna bring you on a date and ask you out, like you deserve." He brushes his finger on your cheek, you lean your head on his hand, your heart melting for the way you feel next to Chris. "Don't worry about that anymore, babydoll."

"I adore you, Chris." You say, staring at his blue eyes, your heart beating faster on your chest, your hands sweating and your lips leaned in a big smile.

"I adore you too much, doll." He kisses your lips, his chin brushing against the flowers, he chuckles against your lips. "Damn, I missed you so much."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not easy to forget." You tease, giving a peck on Chris lips. He rolls his eyes, but you're not wrong. You're so hard to forget. "Chris." You whine. "I'm starving!"

"Fine, let's eat before you get fussy." He says and grabs the bouquet from your hand to put on a glass later.

You eat together, Chris spends the whole day taking care of your hangover. He never felt so happy, for a guy who never expected to fall in love with someone, you completely changed his mind. All he wants is you and no one more in the world, he wants you to be his girlfriend. You really adore him, actually your feelings are slowly turning in more than only adore, Chris was the only guy who ever made you feel passionate, the only one who treats you well. For a girl who never expected to fall in love with a dealer, Chris completely changed your mind.

꩜ chérie's notes: hi, my pookies! finally part 2, hope you like it! tell me if you want more <3

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee

masterlist | taglist

[nena-la-fresa]

All Night Long | Good Ending |

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

All Night Long | Neutral Ending | /// All Night Long | Bad Ending |

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Flirting | Smut | Little bit of Voyeurism | P in V | Blowjob | Three way |

Word Count: 2551

Sometimes you still think about that night. You felt like Beth and Hannah were like sisters to you. You visited their house often for breakfast and dinner, so it really hurt what happened. You couldn’t even imagine how Josh felt. You still feel somewhat responsible, maybe if you hadn't been taking care of Josh that night things would have been different. 

They both knew you liked their brother. If anything they were the only ones who tried to get you together. They were the ones who set drunk Josh down on the same couch as you. You were so focused on playing with his hair and drawing lines on his face with your fingers. You even confused your feelings to him. You thought he heard you when he mumbled your name in his sleep. 

But then they went missing and Josh cut off you and everyone else. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but what else could you do. He was mourning. 

You were a little surprised though at the invite you got. But still happy, you really hoped that he was doing somewhat better. 

When you got there it was like he was the same Josh, he didn’t look like he was mourning. He acted the same way. He still made his same flirtatious comments. He was still that boy next door kind of guy. 

He had noticed that you got cold, so he walked over with a blanket. You were about to take it when he opened it and wrapped you with the blanket. You looked up at him, a bit corny but looking into his eyes just made you feel like kissing him. 

And you feel like he noticed too, why else would he clear his throat and walk away. You felt a little disappointed. But you thought it was a good time to talk to him. You sat down next to him while he was crouching trying to light the fire. You weren’t alone so you just spoke softly so only he could hear.

“I’m really sorry for what happened Josh. I really loved Hannah and Beth. I still miss going over to your house on Sundays and eating breakfast with you guys. I really regret that day too, I should have been with Hannah that day. But I was so focused on taking care of you that I just didn’t- I didn’t think about what could happen.”

You looked up and saw him looking at you. “Thank you. I appreciate that Y/n.” 

You were about to say something when Chris interrupted, “What am I missing?” 

You rolled your eyes before looking at Chris who was crouched coming in between the two of you. 

“Everything, we just had full blown sex right now. How'd you miss it?” Josh turned slightly to look at Chris. 

“Oh shit no way. Was it hot?” Chris patted Josh on the back. 

“Oh yeah dude. It was, you couldn’t tell? Dude had me cumming three times in the span of a minute. That guys, a real sex god.” They both looked at you bewildered, not uttering a word. 

“Okay, guess I can’t joke around. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I’m going to sit on the couch where it's less awkward.” You got up and moved over to where Ashely was. 

Chris moved to where you had been sitting, “So uh, you and uh, you and her?” He nodded towards you. 

“What about me and her?” Josh continued to try and get the fire going. 

“You finally gonna ask her out?” Chris whispers, “Cuz if you don’t I might just have to. I mean have you seen that ass? Just thinking about it makes me wet. Picture it, her ass up in the air while you're pounding into her and it has her screaming your name.” 

Josh glares over at Chris. Chris laughs, “Just saying the same shit you did buddy. But seriously, I think you should finally go for it. She definitely wants you to.”

You slowly stopped talking when you heard Sam yell about there not being any hot water. Josh got up and was about to head to the basement. 

“Go.” Ashley whispered, but seeing that you didn’t get up she yelled. “Josh, do you need help? Cuz Y/n could definitely help you if you needed help.” 

Josh turned around, “Yeah I could use some help. It’s definitely a two man job.” 

“Alright well if you need me that bad I guess I’ll go.” 

You both stood at the entrance of the basement. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going down there.” 

You didn’t budge, “What you scared?” Josh smirked. 

“Yes actually. Haven’t you ever seen scary movies Josh. People die in basements. There are ghosts and shit down there, psycho’s who are waiting for people to have sex.” 

“You tryin to have sex?” He raised an eyebrow.. 

You glare at him, “Sure buddy. Let’s have sex all you want.” 

He pumps his fist, “Yes.” He sees that you still aren't moving. 

“Alright. Here.” He holds out his arm for you. 

“Come on. Just hold onto me.” You hesitated, “Trust me, if there was anything in there I’d protect you.” 

“Okay.” You wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close. He could feel your breast pressed up against his arm. 

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him a little hard. 

After watching Josh fix the boiler he asks for your help. “Alright turn that switch there.”

“Right here?” 

“Yeah.”

You turn the switch on and the boiler starts working. 

“Yes! High five girl!” 

“What are we kids?” You laugh but still give him a high five. 

“Nah cuz if we were kids you wouldn't have said what you did upstairs.” You could hear the flirtation in his voice. 

You could feel your face heat up. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it” You start to walk away but hear a loud sound that scared you. “What was that?” 

You backed up into Josh, the warmth that was radiating off of his chest had you melting. His hands landed on your hips keeping you close. You felt him lean down and talk in your ear. 

“That could be a lot of things. But what I’m focused on is the fact you called me a what was it again? A sex god?” 

You shifted a bit in his grasp, an exhale left his breath. “Don’t do that.” His voice barely above a whisper. 

You felt something boil up from inside you. Something about him whispering in your ear got to you. “Do what? Oh this?” You rubbed your ass against him. 

“Fuck.” Josh gripped your waist tighter. 

“What can’t flirt back.” You felt him start to rub himself against your ass. 

One of his hands shifted from your hip to your pants. He wasted no time slipping his hand down them. His cold hand against your slit was such a sensation. His fingers went past your folds and slipped inside. “Fuck.” You whispered. 

You were at a loss of words as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. He used his other hand to move your hair out of the way so that he could suck on your neck. His hand going back to your hip to hold you in place. 

“What was that about flirting back?” He felt you tighten around his fingers. 

“Josh please.” 

“Please what?” 

“I need you.” He took his fingers out. Leaving you feeling empty. 

“Need me where.” He put his fingers in his mouth, “God you taste so good.” 

“In me. I need you in me please.” He got right to it. He took off your clothes and his. You could feel his hard dick against your ass. 

He pushed you against the way so that you could lean forward. His dick rubbing against your folds. You could feel his arousal. 

Your once empty hole felt full, the girth and length that this man had. He started out slow. But he picked up the pace. One hand on your hip and the other against your clit. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispered to you. He stopped for a bit before putting you on all fours. Your face pressed against the blanket he gave you earlier. His hands on your waist, gripping them tight enough to leave a bruise. And the feeling of his dick reaching places you wouldn't have felt while being pushed up against the wall. 

Josh's pace starts to pick up. He starts hitting all the right places and it causes you to scream. 

Unbeknownst to you both but there was someone watching. Chris was getting ready to scare you both with the first sound but when you both didn’t go investigating he got closer. That was when he saw you two. He was watching as you were grinding on Josh, and the way Josh started fingering you. He felt himself get hard. He knows he shouldn't have. He had a crush on Ashley. But what he told Josh earlier wasn't that much of a lie. He did think you were hot, especially in high school. Even when Josh dropped out he’d still see you around campus, he always wanted to talk to you. Always wanted to have sex with you. He fantasized about it a lot. 

And now here he is. Watching behind a shelf, with his dick out stroking himself to the sight of his best friend fuck the girl he thought was hot. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming when something fell. 

You both looked up in the direction of the noise. Chris’s face was now visible to you both. “Uh. I heard someone scream.” 

Josh didn’t stop though, the room filled with the sound of skin hitting against one another.  If anything Christ standing and just watching made Josh thrust even harder, like he was trying to claim his dominance. Especially with what Chris was saying earlier. 

You’ve never thought of Chris in that way but being watched did something to you. “Josh” you moaned his name and felt yourself squeezing around his dick. 

“You just gonna stand there Cochise? Cuz it looks like our girl here is getting excited from being watched. I know you haven't gotten your dick sucked. Why don’t you let her get it wet. But don’t expect it again. It’s a one-time offer Cochise.” Josh watched as Chris hesitated. 

“Or you could go back upstairs and not get any from Ashley. Cuz I know you both wont put out.”

In a rush Chris keeps the robe on but gets down on his knees. You prop yourself up but grab his hard dick. You lick the tip before looking up at him and putting it in your mouth. 

“Fuck” Chris lens his head back and grabs a fist full of hair. 

“She’s good isn't she Cochise.” Josh kept ramming into you, saliva dripping down your chin from Chris, dick in your mouth. 

“She's better with her mouth around you. So why don’t I give you a turn and you give me a turn.” 

Anger built up in Josh, “Fuck no.” Josh grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. 

“I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it though.” You let Josh slip out of you. You turned around, your lips hovering over his lips. “But I really want to try it. And then after I’m all yours.” 

Josh nodded, you told Chris to lay down. You made Josh watch as you sank down on Chris’ dick. You bounced on it a few times before leaning back against Chris’ chest. 

“You just want me to watch you fuck another guy?”

“No. Just come here.” You wrapped your mouth against his dick and got it wet. You sucked on the tip before pulling back, “I want you to go in.” 

“I’m sorry what?” Chris showed hesitation. 

“Chris please. Come on, don't ever tell me that you two horn dogs never thought about a girl with two dicks in her.” 

Josh smirked at you, “Wow, you’re really taking that party like porn stars seriously.” 

“You said it yourself, ‘it’s a one-time offer.’” 

Josh wasted no time. He leaned you back against Chris. Chris held your waist with one hand and the other hand its way to your breast. You moaned feeling Josh spit on your pussy and his dick. He pushed his dick against your entrance, stretching it and pressing it against Chris’. 

“Fuck” You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim. 

Josh starts to thrust, your pussy dripping from arousal makes it easy for them both to move inside you. You could feel yourself coming closer. Your eyes started to water, you felt that tingling sensation on your nose. They could feel you tighten around them. 

Chris pulled out and began to jerk himself off. But Josh kept going even if you began to get overstimulated. He kept fucking you while you were still on top of Chris, he just slightly lifted you to not disturb Chris letting it lose. 

You could feel Josh getting closer. His thrust were erratic, his breathing was heavy. He kept whispering your name until he came inside of you. 

Josh leaned down and kissed you. 

You all stayed there for a moment to catch a breath. That was before Chris got up after cleaning himself. “So uh, we don’t tell Ashely or anyone right?” 

“Right.” You laughed as Josh helped you put on your clothes. 

“And it was a one time thing Chris.” Josh turned around after he finished buttoning his pants. 

“Right right. I get it.” 

You all ended up going back up stairs together. Ashley got up from the couch “What took you guys so long.” She paused before seeing Chris robe. “What in god's name are you wearing?” 

Chris did the Trinity on Ashley, “I found my true calling.” 

“Pretty ironic huh.” Josh whispered over to you, you stiffened a laugh before elbowing him lightly. 

“Please tell me you're going to take a vow of silence.” Ashley joked.

“He better.” Josh spoke a little louder, confusing Ashley a bit. 

After you nudged Josh again he turned to you. “And you. What am I going to do with you?” 

You smirked at him, “With me? I did nothing.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I guess we just gotta go for round two huh.” Josh grabbed your wrist lightly trying to lead you. 

“Oh you mean round two with you know who?” You could see that he got irritated for a second. 

“Yeah sure okay.” Josh leaned down before holding your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Where are you two going?” Ashley laughed at the two of you. 

Josh started to walk up the stairs, “I gotta talk with her about some stuff. You two have fun down here.”

“Damn that basement really did something for them huh.” She laughed and looked at Chris. Who weirdly looked irritated. 

“Chris?” 

He snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. It really did. Some kinda trauma bonding or something from the scare I gave them.” 

“Where did you even find that?” Ashley listened to Chris all the weird shit that he found in the basement. Excluding the sex and him watching you and Josh fuck before he joined in.