#and we even fucking smelled each other and he said i smelled good/great i don’t remember his exact words

[fakeoutbf]

.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[ellecdc]

oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.

so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍

I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3

chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo

A date.

An actual date.

And if it went well; your first date.

God did you hope it went well.

You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 

Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 

What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 

Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 

So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 

Great.

Terrible. 

Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 

Stupid, stupid girl. 

You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.

What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 

You were going to simply throw up. 

But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.

Or were you?

Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?

The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.

You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 

You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.

So why were you nervous?

You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.

Oh right.

That’s why you were nervous. 

“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 

You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 

“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 

“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”

“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.

“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 

He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.

You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.

You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?”

“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 

Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 

“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 

“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.

“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”

He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.

Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 

You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.

“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 

He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 

You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.

You were fine, this was fine. 

Just fine.

Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 

You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 

“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 

You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.

 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 

You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.

It was good.

But surely it could be better? 

Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?

You definitely overcooked the pasta. 

The store bought pasta.

Fuck. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.

Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.

“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”

And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 

Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”

You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.

“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 

“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 

“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 

You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.

You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 

You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-

“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”

You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 

One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 

You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 

“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”

“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.

“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”

You shook your head again. 

“Neither do I.” 

You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 

“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 

You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 

“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 

“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”

“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 

“And how do they usually end?”

Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”

“No?”

“No.” 

“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”

His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.

Well, you’d give him one.

Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.

Your pasta, that you made for him. 

That he liked. 

And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 

You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 

“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 

You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 

The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.

“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 

You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 

“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”

And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.

[neiptune]

i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude. 

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (with benefits) PT2

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count : 6.2k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: swearing, smut, a lot of plot, use of Y/N, FOMO, partying, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, weed), pet names (sweetheart, pretty boy, pretty girl, ma, cherry), name calling (slut), making out, getting caught, p in v, jealous!Reader, jealous!Chris, dom!Chris, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it), spanking, riding, doggy, degradation(?), creampie, slut shaming

(A/N: I wrote this in like a day. so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. this was fun to write and ended up way longer than intended. Enjoy 🤭)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Now sitting at my vanity I’m touching up the rest of my makeup. I’ve been invited to some party, even though I said I would distance myself from that kind of stuff. But I was invited and my FOMO was bad enough to make me go.

“You done? The Uber is here.” Evelyn asks. Evelyn is my best friend, and she has been since middle school, she was there for my awkward phases and stuck with me. Now we’re in senior year soon to graduate.

“Yeah I’m coming.”

I say standing up a bit too aggressively than intended. I just really would like to stay home for once and just sleep, but I really can’t.

I don’t even want to go to that goddamn party, but the more time passed the more I thought about how much I’d miss out on.

‘What if something happened and I wasn’t there to see it’

I grab my purse and walk out the door, Evelyn following behind me.

I was wearing a tight, black, mini-dress, that wasn’t as short as the average mini-dress. It is about mid-thigh, but it has a ‘sexy slit’ up my left thigh. And my hair simply down

Evelyn was wearing a simple navy blue mini-dress, that, in her words “has the right amount of glitter on it”. Both of us decked up in jewelry.

Evelyn has her hair bleached, almost platinum blonde. She wears a lot of heavy makeup, but she looks gorgeous with it. Her eyes are dark adding a good contrast.

The first time Evelyn dyed her hair was in like 8th grade. To go from her dirty blonde a little lighter. Until eventually doing it so many times, going lighter and lighter until she ended up here, platinum blonde. But it suits her.

We walk out of my house, the Uber already there like she’d said.

And while I’m still thinking about why I even agreed to this, and ‘oh, it won’t be that bad’ , and ‘I do this all the time anyway’ , we arrive.

“Girl” Evelyn nudges me nodding to the window, and when I turn my head we’re here. I open the car door, and as soon as I do I can already hear the faint hum of the music coming from inside. I slide out of the backseat, Evelyn following behind me, after paying and tipping the driver.

We step up to the porch, and people in the front yard were already throwing up and smoking and whatnot. After all, we came fashionably late.

As soon as we Walk in the intense smell of alcohol and weed washes over me.

I started to question if this was actually a good idea. But when I look over at Evelyn the blonde is already looking over the crowd of people. She looks excited, and I can’t help the sigh that I let out.

Nobody seems to hear it anyway, the music is too loud.

“Go have fun,” Evelyn says over the music elbowing my side.

I roll my eyes looking over at her, a small smile crossing my lips as I chuckle. “You too. I’ll see you later.” I answer loudly smiling back at her before she nods eagerly.

Evelyn isn’t a bad friend at all. She’s great. Just at parties, I would much rather not stand next to her while she is flirting with some dude.

I tell her everything. Always. Except for the fact that me and Chris hook up. It’s kind of a more secret thing, especially since Evelyn knows how much we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. The feeling, the things that he makes me feel. So I don’t even try.

I watch her fade into the crowd starting to make my own way into the party.

It was a simple house party some random popular rich kid was throwing. Nothing special.

I make my way to the kitchen, brushing past drunk and sweaty teenagers.

Parties are way more enjoyable when you’re drunk.

So I pore myself some shots to get myself started.

I down another shot, feeling like the two I already took weren’t enough. I put down the shot glass more aggressively than needed, my face contorting in disgust at the liquid burning down my throat.

I look over at the bottle of tequila on the counter next to me. I sigh steadying myself on the counter my arms holding me up. I look down for a moment already feeling the alcohol kick in. The music started to sound louder, ringing in my ears.

I sigh standing up straight again. I can feel the effects starting. My eyes scan the room, looking for any familiar faces, or anyone cute..

With how much I party I handle my shots pretty well.

I furrow my eyebrows walking around the kitchen island to the living room where most people are, crowded in the middle, dancing and whatnot.

I see Evelyn there, and she’s just dancing so I join her.

After a while I excuse myself. I need some fresh air. I’d been offered one too many beers and I was feeling way more drunk than I wanted to be.

I really don’t wanna go home completely drunk.

I push my way through the crowd of teenagers, making my way to the back door. Getting out, the fresh air hits me like a truck. It feels like I can breathe again.

I step down the porch, sitting down at the steps of the back porch leaning against the railing slightly.

The fresh air feels sobering, but the sips from my red solo cup keep me drunk. I think it’s some sort of beer, but honestly, with the amount of different alcohol I’ve had tonight, I can’t even tell the difference.

Suddenly I feel a presence next to me. I look over to see a brunette boy.

Ethan Marlo.

He’s the school's resident stoner. The leader of the other skater boys. He’s been caught smoking on school grounds so many times.

And while I was certainly not innocent either, at least I didn’t go and get caught.

His hair is long and messy brown… -reminds me of Chris’.. no it’s too curly for that...

His eyes are brown but somehow sharp like he was staring into my soul, and judging everything he saw.

I’d talked to him a few times before, nothing worth noting though. But from what interaction I’ve had with him he was nicer than he looks.

He may just have a resting bitch face.

“Hey?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

I watch him pull the cigarette from his lips blowing the toxic smoke away.

“Hi.”

I watch as he puts the cigarette back between his lips. I raise an eyebrow watching him. Waiting for him to speak. To tell me why he is sitting next to me.

But he doesn’t.

“Do you talk?” I ask slightly annoyed at having my alone time interrupted cause some random kid sat down.

“Yeah.” He mumbles against his cigarette taking another puff.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips and blows away the smoke before looking at me again.

“I’m Ethan.” He smiles slightly.

“I know.”

Almost everybody knows Ethan. The kid’s a troublemaker. Teachers hate him. He’s a problem child and people know him for that. And he’s not exactly ugly or anything either.

“Now sweetheart, this would be the moment when you introduce yourself.” He sounds sarcastic almost like he was fucking with me.

“Y/n” I say simply staring back at him as he gives me a goofy grin.

I’m not popular in school, but people still know me. They know who I am because mainly Chris and I would always argue. And people know Chris.

Girls are all over him. Asides from the obvious fact that he’s a triplet and most people think that’s interesting. Most people also think he’s hot.

But most people at our school are stupid anyway.

“You want one?” He asks nodding down to the cigarette in his hands.

It wasn’t like I’d never smoked before, but I’m not a smoker.

I shrug letting out a small “Why not”

I look back at Ethan, and I feel him cup my face with his hand. My lips parted in shock. he chuckles, He places his cigarette between my lips.

When he takes his hand off of my face I raise an eyebrow at him, taking the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger as I inhale it.

Taking the cigarette from my lips I go to speak again. I breathe out the smoke.

“Dude” I sigh, my tone sounds flatter than intended. but whatever.

I pause for a moment taking another drag. He was always known to carry some weed.

“You got any weed?” I ask handing him the cigarette.

He chuckles pulling out an already rolled blunt and tossing it over to me. “You’re pretty you know that?”

He says looking back at me. I raise my eyebrow picking up the rolled blunt and putting it in my purse. “Oh yeah?”

It sounds more cocky than it did in my head but oh well.

I probably look really cocky right now. With the way, I’m leaning back against the higher step behind me.

But whatever. Honestly, I’m too drunk to care.

I put the cigarette back between my lips breathing in the toxic smoke.

Okay, maybe crossfaded.

Pulling the cigarette from my lips, I hold it between two fingers as I take a sip of my drink in my solo cup.

“Yeah”

He looks at me like he genuinely thinks I’m pretty. And honestly, I like the attention, but I don’t know if I actually like it. It feels weird. But I don’t know if that’s just me being drunk and oblivious or something.

I hand him over the cigarette and he takes it from my fingers, taking a drag of it.

“You’re interesting.”

The words leave my lips before I know. He was. I don’t think he was middle class at all. And he was a stoner and a skater, of course, he is interesting.

“Is that a compliment?” He chuckles watching me as he smokes his cigarette.

I chuckle. I feel like I’m sobering up too much.

“Imma go inside pretty boy.”

And with that I’d gotten up, half stumbling to the door. As soon as I'm inside I brush through crowds of people.

Oh wow, that dude looks like Chris

I stop in my tracks as I narrow my eyes at the couple making out in the corner of the living room.

Hold on that is Chris.

Who the fuck is he kissing.

Poor girl

They shift slightly and even from across the room I can tell that he’s deepening the kiss.

I wait to see if they shift enough for me to see her face.

Chris turns her around, pinning her to the wall by her neck. Her entire face is in view.

Charlotte Baker.

I’ve known Charlotte since kindergarten. Chris had too. But I’ve known Chris longer than she has.

I thought he wasn’t into blondes?

I wouldn’t care who he kisses, we’re not exclusive or anything. But him kissing the very embodiment of what he is not into? The person I hate the most?

Well okay, I don’t really hate Charlotte. I severely dislike her. She’s a bitch. No literally. She’s always so rude. But I don’t know if that’s just me. She seems to have a particular hatred towards me.

They continue making out and honestly, I don’t want to see him stick his tongue down her throat- like he had done to me so many times.

I blink aggressively. I realize that people have been brushing past me and that I’d been staring so I move out of the way.

Leaning against the wall of the living room, right opposite where Chris has her pinned. I’m watching them. I know I am. But I can’t pull my eyes away from them.

It feels like I only have tunnel vision on them. And honestly I don’t know who I feel bad for more.

Chris, for kissing Charlotte, knowing she’s a bitch.

Or Charlotte, knowing she’s making out with a guy whose motto is literally ‘hit and quit’.

I can feel my throat burning as I sip on my red solo cup, which is probably filled with beer.

I sigh, I really need to sober up

I push myself off the wall shaking my head slightly. I go to the kitchen, pushing through the teens in my way. Honestly, I don’t know what time it is, but do I care tho.

I pour the liquid in the red solo cup down the drain, watching it. I lean against the counter over the sink closing my eyes for a second to stay focused.

But all I can really think of is Chris and Charlotte making out just a room away. And the thought disgusts me to the point I wanna throw up, but that could also be the alcohol.

God, I wish I could string together a coherent thought.

I glance over my shoulder. The kitchen is open to the living room and entry but from where I’m standing I can’t see them.

I go to the fridge pulling out a water bottle. The bottle is cold against my skin, and suddenly I’m aware of how I feel like I’m burning up.

With shaky hands, I open the bottle of water taking a sip. Letting the cold water flow down my throat and ease the burn of the alcohol I’d been drinking.

I blind furiously stare at the wall trying to sober up drinking half the bottle.

I sigh my eyes drifting back to the living room. I feel more sober than I did five minutes ago.

I can’t see them, so I walk to the other side of the kitchen trying to get a view of where they were without having to go back to the living room.

They’re not there.

My thoughts immediately go to dirtier places. Shaking my head I furrow my eyebrows, my body tensing up before I realize.

Fuck, ew, I don’t wanna think of that. The fuck.

I take another sip of the water trying really hard to sober up more.

But before I know it, I’m already stumbling up the steps.

So maybe I’m not as sober as I thought, what about it.

I think I’d decided to go upstairs to relax instead of outside because Ethan was still outside. And honestly, I’d left him, so if I came outside again he’d surely ask why I came back right?

I open a random door, leaning against the doorway. Staring into the room my eyes squinted.

Until my eyes fall on Chris… with Charlotte.

Them, making out, Charlotte on top of him while she is fumbling to undo his belt.

Chris’ eyes snap open staring at me. While kissing her. My jaw clenches as I stand frozen not moving to leave like I should’ve.

He breaks the kiss slightly, pushing Charlotte away but not letting go.

“Y/n. Leave”

His gruff voice says and my mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out.

When Charlotte hears my name, and sees he’s looking past her she looks over her shoulder her eyes locking her with mine.

A disgusted look crossed my face. Not that it was intentional, but Jesus was this sight ircking.

Did I look like that when I’m on top of Chris? Ew.

I shake my head slightly turning on my heel, slamming the door behind me.

Okay, maybe dealing with Ethan would’ve been easier than ever having to witness that.

I walk downstairs. That sight sobered me up more than all the water I just drank.

I card through the people again now annoyed with how many people are here. Christ i just want to be alone somewhere.

Going back outside I sit back down next to Ethan. He had moved to the side where I had been sitting. And now he was smoking some weed.

“Back already?”

His tone sounds amused, and now that I’m more sober I can clearly see him checking me out.

“You mind?” I raise an eyebrow turning more towards him. my eyes scanning his face.

He had those dark brown eyes. They were droopy and he had heavy bags under them. His hair did remind me of Chris’, it was almost the same shade. His hair was curlier than Chris’ tho and probably also a little longer. His jawline is sharp and-

Why the hell am I comparing this random cute skater boy to Chris?

“No” he chuckles and looks at me.

He looks kind, honestly.

I lean over taking the blunt from between his lips and putting them between my own.

“What, did you already smoke the blunt I just gave you?”

“So what if I did?”

I didn’t. It was still in my purse, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he’ll give me more.

I pull the blunt from my lips blowing the smoke right in his face. But he doesn’t even flinch at it.

He’s a stoner, of course, he wouldn’t.

He chuckles watching me, taking the blunt from my lips before I can take a drag. Grinning, he puts it between his own lips.

“ ‘ts fine. I have more” he mumbles around the blunt before inhaling properly.

“I see that” I chuckle watching him as he takes a drag.

He looks pretty like that. He looks painfully similar to Chris tho. He could almost be their lost brother. If he put in blue contacts that is.

That’s a stupid thought-

“So, you know the party is inside right? What’re you doing here?” I ask my curiosity taking over.

He chuckles blowing the smoke into my face like I had previously done to him. He puts the blunt between my lips.

“Don’t question me, pretty girl.” He chuckles. I raise an eyebrow but inhale from the blunt. Watching him pull the blunt to his own lips as I exhale.

“Yeah,” I chuckle watching him. I feel more sober than before, but the weed is making me feel things again. “Mhm, so don’t question me either.”

He raises an eyebrow, pulling the blunt from his lips. But before he can ask anything I'm climbing into his lap.

He’d been sitting there all sprawled out. And the weed was starting to hit me. I don’t know why I’d get on the lap of this random, hot, interesting guy. But, why not?

And if Chris can fuck someone else, I might as well have fun too.

He doesn’t tense up, probably as high as me, if not even more. He looks up at me on his lap looking so kissable.

Those lips that look like Chris’ are driving me crazy

“Making moves on me now sweetheart?” He chuckles putting the blunt between his lips again as he takes another drag. His eyes are already red, and mine are probably starting to get red too.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me”

I answer without thinking. Being high, and slightly tipsy from earlier was making me bolder. And the way he looks at me gives me an ego boost.

I pull the blunt from his lips after he takes a drag of it. I chuckle, putting the blunt between my own lips and taking a drag.

“Oh but have I?”

After inhaling I pull the blunt from my lips. Putting it out on the porch steps next to us.

I lean over him my hand cupping his jaw as I kiss him blowing the weed smoke into his mouth.

Except we never pull apart. his hand goes to the back of my neck and my waist, as we start to make out heavily.

My arm wraps around his neck the other one holding him by his jaw as the kiss turns even more hearted.

His hand starts to tail down my waist, to my thigh. My left thigh. His hand grazes my bare skin, getting dangerously close to my ass, and my lacy thong than I would like.

We probably look like we’re trying to devour each other. Well, that’s at least how I feel. Until-

“What the fuck?”

Chris.

I pull away from Ethan abruptly. He looks at my face, then to where I am looking.

Chris is standing there in all his glory. His arms crossed, as he stands in front of the back door. All the way at the top of the steps, on the porch, looking down at us.

I clench my jaw. I wanna ignore him and go back to what I was doing but he was giving me that look. That look that promised trouble. He was telling me to come to him, without telling me.

I lean against Ethan pecking his jawline.

“I gotta go pretty boy”

I mumble under my breath before getting up from where I’d been on his lap and walking the few steps up the porch.

My tiny handbag is on my arm as I walk towards Chris. I pull down the back of my dress as I feel Chris' harsh grip on my upper arm.

“Upstairs you’re gonna regret that.” He says under his breath leaning in slightly so I can hear him.

I purse my lips opening the backdoor and walking in. Chris’ hand stays on my arm pulling me upstairs.

We enter some random room.

The same room that he fucked her in.

He presses a kiss to my head, leaning over me to undo the lace at the back of my dress. The back of the dress wasn’t open, but it had a lace to make it tight.

“You were gonna let him fuck you huh?” He mumbles kissing my jaw.

He locks the door and pulls his shirt over his head.

“Did you fuck her?” The words leave my lips before I think about it. I’m still high from all the weed I’d smoked.

“No.” He says pointedly. My eyes started to trail down his chest. A sight I’ve seen so many times before. “You cockblocked me”

He leans in kissing me as I just kiss back letting him take the lead.

“Did I?” I mock back. My tone is mildly condescending. My eyes glued on his. Those blue eyes piercing through my soul, he looks like he wants to eat me alive

“Yeah. How about you make it up to me, hm?” He says. His tone was ever so condescending and cocky.

I hadn’t even known he’d be at this party. And that makes me think, he was never the type to drink, so he was probably wanting to get laid.

But why wouldn’t he just call me?

I also hadn’t seen Nick or Matt anywhere, so I would assume that he’s here alone.

He hadn’t told me he’d be here. And honestly, I wouldn’t expect him to. After all, I still hate him, and he obviously hates me.

Before I can reply to his question his lips crash on mine again. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands firmly on my waist.

He pulls away from the kiss. He leans down to the hem of my dress to pull it over my head. I slip out of the dress as he just throws it somewhere carelessly. It landed next to his discarded shirt.

“Want you to ride me Ma”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. Looking him over. He starts to undo his jeans sliding out of them.

He looks over my lacy panties and matching bra. They’re plain black and simple. But Chris likes them.

Chris likes my body, but he hates me.

Before I know it we’re on the bed, Chris under me. I hover over his dick, as I slowly slide down in it.

I watch as Chris sighs throwing his head back further into the pillow under his head watching me.

“You like that?” I scoff. My words come out more rough and disgusted than I intended. He just.. god his existence pisses me off.

“Yeah ma,” his tone is sharp from the heavy breaths he’d been taking.

I lean down to him to kiss him. His hand stays on my waist while my hand is on his chest the other one next to his head to steady myself.

He suddenly grabs my face, holding me by my chin. I look down at him waiting for him to talk.

“Where you gonna fuck him like this too?”

He asks his tone sharp still. But now because he is disgusted and angry, not because he’s breathing hard.

“No. Fuck me like you mean it”

He snaps staring back up at me. He lets go of my face pushing me back. I scoff leaning away to sit up again. His hand goes back to my waist waiting for me to move.

I start to move on it again. Slowly grinding into him. My hand which had been next to his head, trails from his collarbone down his chest to his abdomen. Until I pull my hand off of him.

I start to bounce on it more. Now, not just rocking my hips, but fully riding him.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

I hear his breaths get sharper again. His hand trails lower to my hips as he starts to pull me down, intensifying my movements.

I can feel him hit my cervix with every thrust. This angle is heavenly.

The harder I start to ride him, the harsher his grip on my hips gets.

I feel a knot building In my stomach. My movements get sloppier as a result. My eyes shut for a moment as my mouth falls open.

Suddenly I feel a harsh slap on my ass. My eyes snap open as I glare down at Chris.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says lowly, his voice gruff and laced with lust

I feel him start to move me more than I move myself. “Fuck- Chris” I breathe out as I fall forward. My hands landed on each side of his head to steady myself. My moans echoed through the room.

He starts to fuck up into me. thrusting into my core, while moving me on him to watch his pace. His eyes are locked to where we connect, to where he is fucking me.

“I’m so close-“ I breathe out staring down at him. His pretty blue eyes meet mine again.

“Go on. cum for me, slut”

He starts to pick up pace even more, if that was even possible. The eye contact makes this just that much more intense.

He glances down at my lips and then licks his own. My mouth falls open in a silent Moran watching him, not daring to close my eyes.

At this point, I had fully drowned out the sound of the music from the party downstairs. It was already only a mild hum as we got upstairs. But now this intense feeling of being filled like this was making me forget anything and everything, other than the boy currently under me.

“Come” he demands. I feel another harsh slap on my ass, making y body jolt.

The knot in my stomach snaps. My entire body tenses and I struggle to keep myself up

But Chris holds me in place as he fucks me through it, the continuous brush to my cervix only intensifying the pleasure further.

He slows down, not moving anymore as I come down from my high. This type of high felt better than any drug ever could.

I sit up wincing at the fact that he was still buried deep inside of me.

“Should’ve known I was gonna end up fucking you anyway” he chuckles watching my expression.

He pulls me up slightly, his length slipping out of me. before abruptly switching our positions. He is now on top of me staring down at him.

He taps my arm grinning. “Turn around for me Cherry.”

Cherry, a nickname he had given me when we were just six or so. I’d been eating a bunch of cherries that summer. Chris had loved the fruit, but he hated me. So to mock my love for them he started calling me Cherry.

And it stuck. His brothers also called me that. And then later my other friends. And then basically everyone I knew, and was close to.

It was a cute nickname. But the nickname was born out of hatred and annoyance. Even tho Chris had loved cherries as much as I had, he’d pointedly stopped eating them after that year of my obsession with them.

I’ll see him sometimes have one, but he would never admit that he still liked cherries.

I hum still catching my breath as I turn around.

I prop myself up on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder. His hand rubbed over my ass. Him deliberately running his length up my slit to coat it in my juices again.

He looks up his eyes meeting mine. And before I knew it he was ramming into me. My eyes widen as I turn to look back in front of me. He immediately picks up a steady and fast pace.

Fucking into me from behind. My core was throbbing around his length, either from too much stimulation, or too little..

He starts to rock his hips into me harder. My moans echo through the room loudly.

My arms start to shake as I struggle to keep myself up.

He grabs my hair roughly, putting it into a makeshift ponytail. He starts to pull on it, using it both as leverage, but also to hold me up.

“Such a tight cunt, all for me” he chuckles using his free hand to spank my ass again.

I clench at the dirty words. And the way his low voice is laced with so much obvious arousal and lust. And the way he is thrusting into me from behind.

If I had to guess I’d probably say, anything from behind is his favorite. Doggy, face down ass up, whatever.

I don’t know if that I’d because he doesn’t want to see me, or if he is just an ass guy, or both, but it doesn’t matter, since it feels good.

He slams into me harshly again, before stopping his movements. I groan in annoyance. I feel the knot in my stomach fades.

Was he fucking edging me now too?

“C’mon” he says harshly slapping My ass again. “Work that ass”

Before I know it I’m already moving. Thrusting my ass back into him. Twerking back on his dick. He tugs at my hair again. I feel his stare at my ass. He was probably looking over the way his big dick disappeared into me.

“Yeah, good girl,” he says in that low sexy tone. His hand moves out of my hair, tailing down to my waist. His other hand trailed from my hip to my waist too.

Suddenly he holds me still and starts to thrust into me again. His thrusts were seemingly harsher than they were before.

I squeal out a moan, my head turning to look over my shoulder.

His pretty eyes focused on my ass. His grip was harsh on my waist. He lets out harsh breaths.

I feel him move slightly, readjusting, his hand going to the small of my back to arch my back slightly. His thrust picks up again and I instinctively Lean lower. My hands quickly guided out making my face fall onto the pillow.

But instead of trying to get up again, I simply lay my upper body down, my arms wrapping around the pillow.

I moan and whine his name over and over again. He has the best mix of sweet and dirty talk. Always degrading but also praising me at the same time.

My back arches back into him “Chris- I’m close” I whine loudly getting cut off by another string of moans leaving my lips.

“Hold it.” He grits out. His hips snap into me harder. His dick grazed every spot making me feel like I’m in heaven. “I’m close too”

The sound of skin clapping and the dirty wet sounds coming from my cunt is loud. He slaps into me repeatedly, my eyes starting to water from the effort it takes not to come at the spot.

“You’re not gonna come before me” he demands his thrusts getting more sloppy and messy. I can feel his dick twitching inside of me as I know he is close too. normally he'd just let me whenever, but it was really dependent on his mood

“Understood, be a good slut and listen ‘aight?” He scoffs his grip on my waist bruising.

I throw myself back in him, meeting his thrust.

“Yes, god- please” I whine. And suddenly I feel Chris’ hips stutter. With one last thrust, I feel his load spill into me.

I continue to move myself back against him tho, feeling my own orgasm wash over me.

He pulls out slowly, but not really gently. He watches for a moment as our combined juices leak out of me.

I sigh heavily trying to catch my breath as I lay down on this stranger's bed fully.

I turn to my side for a moment. Chris rubs over my side and back. He leans down leaving a short peck on my ribs. Caressing my skin.

My eyes meet his again, and he looks… cold.

He doesn’t look like he’d just fucked me. He just looked at me blankly. The caressing didn’t feel like it was out of care and a will to comfort, but rather a force of habit.

He gets up from the bed, and I just watch him as he gets some tissues cleaning himself off quickly before getting dressed again.

I sigh turning full onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. This would be when he leaves.

Fuck, what if Evelyn noticed me going upstairs with Chris?

She knows we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. But I can’t just explain everything to her, it’s a secret. Id have to come up with some excuse and-

“Get up” his harsh voice breaks me out of my trance, my head snapping towards him.

“What?” I ask back flatly, my mind not registering why he is still standing there with his arms crossed.

I feel a chill run up my spine from how cold and uncaring he looks with that glare. The one he always gives me when we’re arguing.

“Get the fuck up? Did you lose that many brain cells?” He scoffs looking back at me.

I glance down at my nude body and then back at Chris. I try to get up as carefully as possible. Trying to get as little as possible of our juices onto this stranger's bed.

I mildly struggle to stand, leaning back at the bed frame to keep myself up straight.

He looks almost proud of the state he put me in. But the disgust in his eyes is stronger.

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

My tone is low but still harsh. I close my eyes for a second, sighing in annoyance.

He looks around the room, before fining and picking up my previously discarded panties.

He licks his teeth for a second before huffing.

He opens them for me. I raise an eyebrow, but ultimately just step through the thong, my hands on his shoulders for support. I let him Pull it up.

Cringing at the feeling of the lingering creampie and the fabric on me.

He wasn’t gonna a bother cleaning me?

“Go on.” He huffs looking back into my eyes as I look into his.

“Walk downstairs, go back to that party, back to that dude. Let him fuck you.” He shrugs his words harsh. He back up slightly looking down at my thighs where he can still see the juices run down my thighs.

“I’m sure you’d like having more than one guy cum in you, right?” He mocks leaning into me again. His glare burns into my face, making me feel like I’m naked, which I am.

“Since you’re such a slut, you probably wouldn’t mind fucking more than one guy right?”

He scoffs leaning away abruptly.

I look at him. My shock subsides as a glare settles on my face. I get that he likes degrading me or whatever, But does he actually think I’m that much of a slut.

“Go on, cherry.” He scoffs tilting his head as he looks over his shoulder his gaze locked on mine.

Why does he always have to ruin good moments?

“Fuck you, Chris.” I say back harshly my tone purely rude.

“Oh, you already have.”

I pause dumbfounded.

I didn’t mean it literally. But I mean I had done that, literally.

The harsh smack of the door catches my attention. I lock back over at the door.

He had left.

God, in hindsight that was a stupid insult. I could’ve said something more creative.

I purse my lips staring a f the door. Before my eyes trail over the now-empty room. The room was pretty neat, except for my clothing scattered around.

Right when I think I tolerate him,

Right after he makes me feel so good,

He’ll do the simplest thing,

And ruin it.

God I hate him.

Masterlist

A/N: looks like this is going to be a series lol

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin

[storm-angel989]

Heyyy hope you are having a great day! Could I request a Valentino x daughter fic, where the reader had just arrived in hell and he helps her adjust? Thx

-🕯anon

HAPPY WEEKEND! The editing continues (in between adulting of course!)

Enjoy!

It was the smell she couldn’t get used to. 

The scent of rotting garbage that filled her nose every time she stepped out of the V tower- every time she stepped out from under her fathers direct protection. The clangs and clamors, yellings and beepings of car horns surrounded her. It was almost like being home…except, maybe a touch more dangerous. She turned to walk away from the red limo that sat, waiting for her. She had made it this far, after all. 

Her phone rang, adding to the noisy chaos that was the pride ring. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket and scowled at the caller ID. Of course he knew the second she stepped out of the building. 

“Uncle Vox? What’s up?”

“You left the tower without telling us, everything okay?” Vox’s voice floated through the line. 

Reader rolled her eyes as she scanned the street. “I did tell you- this morning. I have an appointment to get my school uniform fitted, remember? Dad said I have to finish high school…there was a whole discussion…” 

“Your appointment is at noon. It's eleven and it takes ten minutes for the limo to get there. You’re too early.” 

On the other end of the line, she could hear what sounded like the ting of the elevator. Fuck. She was sure he was on his way down.

“Uncle Vox, I was going to walk to the shop. And maybe stop for a coffee on the way, I mapped my route with VoxQuest before I even walked out the door.” 

“You can’t just leave the tower whenever you please sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there. This is a much different world than you’re used to.” 

The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I turned around to see Vox walking towards me. I tried to hide my scowl. Three months. I had been in hell for three months and the lack of freedom felt like chains around me. On Earth I had the freedom to come and go throughout the world as I pleased. People feared me. No one messed with me. Partially because at the end of the day, I was a nobody- just another soul scraping my way to survive. But my arrival in hell shed light on exactly who I was- who my father was. And that made simply existing dangerous. 

My father passed when I was five. My mother before that- in childbirth, or so I was told. I didn’ have very many memories of him when he was alive- and even less so of his two best friends, Velvette and Vox. And none of my mother. All I knew of them is that when they died, they left me alone in Earth’s version of hell. 

I grew up fast, like most kids in my situation. So my early death wasn’t exactly a surprise. But what was a surprise was meeting my father within the first twenty four hours of my arrival in hell. Even more so to be thrust into a life of luxury- a stark contrast from fighting to survive. 

“Ah. Not to mention you don’t know any of the good places in town. Also does your father know you drink coffee? You’re a little young- not that I’m judging.” He continued as he tucked his arm around me. “Come along now, let me escort you if you insist on walking.”

There was a part of me that chafed at the supervision. I was almost a sophomore in high school, and I had been on my own for years. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, relaxed ever so slightly, the pounding fear in my heart, the wonder if I would survive another day melted with each passing week. 

The bell rang as we entered the coffee shop and I crossed my arms uneasily. As I studied the menu I scanned for the least expensive item. I hadn’t actually planned on buying anything. Even with the bright gold credit card I now carried in my wallet, it seemed like a waste of money- an unnecessary luxury- when the apartment never seemed to run out of coffee pods. It was more the warmth, brightness and safety of the shop that I craved. The memories of warming cold hands on hot water filled cups, scraping together pennies to save for an occasional teabag. 

“What looks good to you?” Vox asked. “Their blueberry coffee is killer.”

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settled in my gut. He wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain it.

“Just uhm, a small black coffee,” I replied as I shifted my weight uneasily. 

He raised an eyebrow, “you take cream and sugar at home.”

“Yeah but that’s extra and I don’t want…”

He gave me an odd look but reached over and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you let me pick something for you? Go find us a spot to sit, your dad should be joining us in a few moments.”

Grateful to be free of the burden of ordering, of the anxiety I couldn’t kick that surrounded paying, I slid into a window seat and watched as the crowd passed by. A few moments later I heard the bell ring and looked up as the tall figure that was my father made his way into the room.

My memory of him alive was sparse, but in death, the man was larger than life. People moved when he walked, listened when he spoke and the fear they emitted around him was practically tangible. I watched as he scanned the room, and when his eyes met mine they practically lit up.

“Bebita, darling,” he cooed as he took the chair across from me, “Vox tells me you snuck out of the tower?”

I felt myself flush, “I’m sorry Dad I…”

“Forgot?” 

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. To my surprise he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand, cariño. It must be tough, going from all the freedom in the world to being locked into a cage. Let’s try to be a bit better going forward, okay? Death in this world is far more permanent than on Earth.”

“Yes, Papi,” I muttered quietly as I looked down. 

“It must be strange to you,” he continued. “It was for me, when I first entered hell. For you, it’s an even bigger change. An overnight princessa.” 

I looked up at him to meet his gaze. 

“I looked up where you lived- or at least, where they claimed you lived. The rest of my intel says you ran the streets on Earth. And at such a young age,” he continued. “So to find yourself here- thrust into the lap of luxury and comfort, no longer fighting just to put food in your tummy, that lack of adrenaline rush must leave you feeling as though something is missing.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out. “I have everything I ever dreamed of at my disposal. And I…and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Valentino studied me. A moment later, Vox joined the table and slid a steaming cup towards me. 

“This is what I’d like to suggest,” Valentino continued, taking the proffered cup from Vox’s hands. “And what I think will help you adjust the best. Help to ease you into this new life, since what we have been doing just doesn’t seem to be helping.”

The familiar panic settled over me. Was he kicking me out? Was my lack of obedience, lack of adjustment too much for him to deal with? 

“Hey, kiddo, take a breath,” Vox said quickly with a sharp look to Valentino. “There isn’t any reason to worry.” 

“Not at all,” Valentino said with another squeeze to my hand, “I was going to suggest that when we get you fitted for your school uniform, we review the list of clubs and sports that you can partake in. I think getting you involved in something, and establishing a day to day routine will help you adjust.”

“We all have one,” Vox added as he took a sip from his mug. “A routine, I mean. And we well know those survival instincts don’t just go away overnight. Finding an alternate way to access that adrenaline will help you settle in.”

I considered as I took a sip of my coffee. Sweetness exploded on my tongue- sugar and chocolate and cream, all combined into one. It was a heavenly treat, and I almost couldn’t believe it was real. That this was real. I looked out the window for a moment.

“Bebita? Tell us, what is on your mind?” Valentino asked as he studied me, “Please. Speak.”

“I’d like to do something to help. Not everyone who ends up in hell ends up in the life I now can lead…right? There must be some way to give back, to help those who used to be in my..situation.” I said finally. 

Vox and Valentino exchanged looks. Slowly, Vox nodded.

“We can look into that, sweetheart. That could be something we do…together, if you wish?” Valentino said slowly. “It isn’t something we…I…feel comfortable letting you go out and do by yourself.”

“We could even make it a family thing,” Vox added helpfully, “get Velvette involved.”

I could feel myself start to perk up. The more hands that helped, the better, right?

“Yeah, I would appreciate that. Thanks, Dad.”

I saw him smile and I took another drink from my cup, letting the warmth spread through me. 

“We’ll get you settled in, sweetheart,” Valentino told me, “I promise.”

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Co-Stars pt.15

Callum Turner X Actress! Reader

Summary: Y/n is invited of cooking with Flo and gets a little drunk.

Warning: Kinda cringe (I'm sorry)/ alcohol/ Swearing/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 790 words

Florence Pugh invited her on her cooking show. She was excited to go with her, she loved to cook, and she was friends with Flo. She brought Callum with her, and Callum brought Austin. When she arrived, she hugged Florence and took the apron that she gave her. It was a white one with pomegranate all over it. ‘’I’m so excited!’’ she squeals. Y/n chuckles and kiss Callum before Florence goes live.

‘’It’s cooking with Flo, bitches!’’ she puts the knife in the cutting board. ‘’And Y/n is here!’’ Flo exclaims, hugging her again. ‘’Hey everyone! How’s everyone doing?’’ they look in the chat for the answers and then, they look at each other before laughing for no reason. ‘’Guys, today we’re going to do chicken Cajun alfredo, or whatever the order is. But for the drink, I made Y/n’s favorite, a rum n’ coke!’’ she gives her the glass and they tap their glass together before starting to pace around the kitchen to get the ingredients. ‘’By the way, if you hear people talking behind, it’s my husband and my husband’s husband’’ Y/n laughs. Austin, Callum and Florence burst out laughing, Y/n is proud of her joke, as she joins the group laughing.

‘’So now the chicken is seasoned – ‘’ Y/n impulsive thought took control as she slapped the chicken, like she would slap someone’s ass. ‘’- Mate, what the fuck’’ Florence’s smoker laugh took over her laugh, which made Y/n laugh even more. ‘’How many drinks did they have?’’ Austin asked, chuckling. ‘’I don’t know’’ Callum laughed. Y/n was out of breath from laughing so much. ‘’Okay, where were we?’’ she laughed again. Florence took a sip of her drink before looking at her friend. ‘’We have to cook the chicken’’ she explained. ‘’Oh, we should put music!’’ Y/n suggested. Florence nodded before she hit shuffle on her playlist, the first song that came to their ear was Vente Pa’ Ca by Ricky Martin ft Maluma. ‘’I love that song!’’ Y/n exclaimed as she took Florence hands to dance. ‘’The chicken is going to burn, love’’ Callum warned. As Y/n lip synced, Florence quickly took care of the piece of meat.

The pasta was almost done, so was the chicken, Florence and Y/n had about 3 drinks, Austin and Callum’s cheeks were hurting from laughing so much; Y/n was unhinged. Every thought that went through her head, she shared it. ‘’I think I would’ve been burned alive if I lived in Salem when the trial happened, because I have great tits and an opinion.’’ She said, touching the side of her tits, laughing. ‘’I’m hot, they want to make me hotter’’ she giggled. Florence face palmed as she stirred the pastas. ‘’I think you had enough to drink’’ Callum laughed. Y/n nods in agreeing with him. ‘’We’re going to take a little bit of pasta water before dumping it. That’s the secret, pasta water!’’ Y/n exclaims as she takes a scoop of the pasta water. ‘’Someone in the chat said that Callum and Austin are the parents and we’re the children’’ Florence laughs.

‘’Ok! It’s done! Look at how pretty it is!’’ Y/n says as she shows the plate to the camera. ‘’Austin, Callum, come and taste!’’ Florence says. The boys come behind the girls, Callum puts his hands on Y/n’s waist, making her giggle. ‘’That smells amazing!’’ Austin comments. ‘’Yeah, it does!’’ Callum adds. As they take a bite of the food, Y/n and Florence looks at each other. ‘’It’s so fucking good!’’ Y/n exclaims. Florence nods and chuckles. ‘’Babe, you need to come on the show more often’’ Florence says. ‘’I’ll gladly come back’’ Y/n smiles. Austin and Callum take a bite at the food and smile. ‘’That is Gordon Ramsey level’’ Austin exclaims. ‘’It’s really good, oh my! I love it’’ he smiles.

‘’Okay guys, so that was cooking with Flo and Y/n, bitches! See you next time!’’ Florence says as she stops her live. ‘’That was really fun! Thank you so much for the invite’’ Y/n hugs Flo. ‘’You’re welcome here any time. Maybe with less drinks’’ She laughs. Callum agrees as he puts his arm around Y/n’s waist. ‘’Ouh! Next time we can cook shrimp tacos!’’ Y/n proposed. Florence nods as she says goodbye to Austin.

The aftermath of the video on the internet is good. People are saying that Drunk Y/n is unhinged, the fact that Y/n called Austin her husband’s husband is funny, Florence needs to invite Y/n again, Callum’s love contact is physical touch and many more stuff. Y/n was a little bit embarrassed about things she said, but overall she had a really great time, and she wanted to do it again…

[eczlipse]

hii julie!! pleek serve me some han angst w a happy ish ending🧎🏻‍♀️im a sucker for mutual pining and skater han.

please make sure you rest and dont overwork yourself :33 <3

HARD TO LOVE - H.J (REQ)

genre + warnings : angst + smut, use of dr0gs, skater!han, pining. unsafe s3x, - PLEASE USE PROTECTION. not proof-read !!! lowercase intended.

wc : 1.4k

pairing : skater!han x fem!reader, shitty(ish)!han

it had already been a couple weeks since you and jisung supposedly had confessed your ‘feelings’ to each other. he’d been your type, over your height, funny, great style and he happened to skate as well— made it both better and scarier, skater boys never had the best history when it came to dating. being with him was hard, he always had you confused on if or not he liked you. always leaving you on delivered or simply missing eachother’s texts and calls.

in this case, it had been a week of missing eachother constantly, you text him.

y/n , 5:14 pm

jiji, where r u ? can we hang out or something ?

you waited impatiently for an answer— god was he hard to reach. you’d find yourself rethinking everything. was he really worth it ? you liked him so much, stressed so much— yet you couldn’t bring yourself to end it when things got tough. your train of thought stops as you here a ‘ding’ on your phone.

jiji , 5:27 pm

hi beautiful, im out rn alone @ the skate parkk .. i’ll text you the address ?

he then sent you a link to the location as you put a thumbs up reaction to his message. you picked up your bike ride your way to his location. it was a couple minutes away so you’d arrived quickly. as you parked your bike at the entrance area, you could see his slouched figure sitting on one of the skating structures. you smiled at him, walked up to him and decided to scare him.

- boo!

you said harshly while scaring him out of his blank thoughts— he flinched whilst smiling up at you.

- hey— you made it. i missed you.

he admitted, hugging your small frame into his arms as you sunk into him.

- really, did you ? you barely text me anymore… i missed you too.

you hummed as you sat down on the same edge as him.

- uhm, yeah i’ve been really busy with work and skating and stuff.

yet he barely had any time for you. you wanted to let out all you felt torwards him, anger, happiness, love and more. you had to be civil.

- jisung, you could’ve at least told me all that instead of leaving me on delivered, hm’?

he simply ignored your question, and continued.

- maybe a blunt’ll make you feel less stressed— hm?

he showed you two rolls, attempting to hand them over to you. was he being serious? after a whole week of ignoring you, this is what you got back. you doubted jisung even liked you at this point, his mannerisms were off and there simply had to be something else going on. and it wasn’t about you and him. maybe if you took it, he’d be more honest. hopefully in a good way.

- if i take it, will you genuinely talk to me ?

he hummed, smiling at you and handing you a roll. he then pulled out his lighter and lit both of your blunts. you inhaled the smells at first and finally went in and took a puff. one, then two, and up to three. exhaling, you felt your high coming in.

- fuck—

you slithered under your breath. jisung didn’t seem affected by it too much, this was probably your second time ever consuming.

- i didn’t want to talk to you because i was scared. it feels like you don’t like me.

jisung breathed as he looked at your distraught face. you looked dizzy.

- why the hell wouldn’t i’ ? you’re the one who… who never text’ me..

you slithered your words once more while pointing at him. your expressions dropped, you suddenly felt sad.

- maybe we just need some time alone.

he spoke once more, you weren’t even sure what you were hearing from him.

- you can’t talk to me while i’m— this high.

you coughed, throwing the blunt else where.

- hey! that’s mine!

he yelled at you.

- so what if it’s yours ? you care about that , right now ? what about me jisung, hmm? what about me ? you’re trying to leave me while i’m high. you’re fucked up.

- no, you know what’s fucked up ? you never even wondering if i’m okay.

he added, jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at your sudden reaction. he couldn’t believe you, you couldn’t believe him.

- oh, bullshit. i stopped spamming you because obviously— you don’t wanna be bothered. and i don’t want to either right now. fuck you.

- whatever.

he grabbed his skateboard and skated away, far away from you. what was wrong with him. getting you high? just to leave. from there on out, you both knew you disliked eachother right now. and there was no coming back from this.

as days passed after that upsetting argument, you and jisung hadn’t spoken. you didn’t want to hear from him whatsoever. you felt lonely, and as if you were the problem. he disappointed you deeply, you couldn’t help but cry in your dorm every now and then remembering that evening. you’d drown yourself in alcohol, ignore everyone around you and just, wait. wait for what exactly ? your happiness to come back. you’d feel better when you were with him, even if he’d treat you badly, you knew you liked him so much.

jisung spent his time trying to forget about you. yet to him, you were the most alluring person on earth. your charm, beauty personality and all of it. he hated himself for the way he acted towards you and regretted everything. a part of him wanted to run back to you, beg for forgiveness and start all over again. but it all seemed impossible. his friends encouraged him to at least try, try talking to you. he was scared, very scared. but, he didn’t want to leave it like this.

if it were to end, he would want it to be clear. not left alone for the air to decide. after a while of thinking , he brought himself to going over to your dorm. he didn’t want it to end it like this , not having to see you again. at that, he grabbed his skateboard and ran out the door, hoping for his plan to work— apologize, ask for another chance and hopefully end happily ever after ? he questioned himself but for you he needed to get those doubts away.

as he got closer to your house, he began skating faster. speeding up. as he arrived to the building, he ran up the stairs to your dorm. it took him a while to arrive but when he did, he’d hoped it was all worth it. he banged on your door.

at the sound, you’d almost jumped out of your seat— who was it ? you thought. getting up, you brought yourself to the door and slowly opened it. you saw jisung’s face and that beanie of his, god he always wore that. your face had dropped, you felt shocked to have seen him after so long.

- wh- what are you doing here jisung?

you mumbled under your breath, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you.

- i- y/n, i’m so sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean what i said , i like you so much it almost hurts— i just- i want what’s best for you, i’m shitty and i know i am and i’m so sorry… y- you don’t deserve this at all and i’m so disappointed i had to make you go through this, i—

he stumbled over his words, his voice cracked as he continued— he was nervous and genuine. you couldn’t help but smile at his antics and interrupt him.

- it’s okay. don’t worry , i’m glad you came over and—

jisung cut you off with a tender kiss on the lips, you melted onto his lips as your tongues moved together. he slowly let himself into your dorm as you kissed him passionately. this had been the first time you both shared a kiss. your eyes met once you both pulled away. he began fumbling getting his hoodie off as he asked you a question.

- can i— please ?

you smiled at him and hummed in response, he began trailing his hands around your body as he slowly began taking off your tank top. as your tank top was thrown on the floor, you brought each other to the living room as he unclapsed your bra and trailed kisses on your soft skin.

your bodies felt each other getting hotter, you’d both wanted more. you slid your hands down to his groin, unbuckling his belt and his jeans— you wanted him in you.

- please’

you whimpered at him, tugging on his boxers. he smirked at your needy frame and began preparing himself for entrance. jisung slowly stroked himself, trying not to let any groans out just yet— soon enough he aligned himself to your entrance and slid himself into you, letting out a sudden moan from you.

as he thrusted into you, you moaned at every push, grabbing onto his arms as your grip tightened on him— that only turned him on more. jisung whispered soft moans into your ears as he lowered his body down to you. the feeling of him inside you, the way he held your hand as he thrusted into you— only made you want him more.

- fuck’ mmgh’—

he moaned under his breath, feeling himself get closer. you whimpered at his sounds as he began fastening his pace into you. your sudden gasps had him going faster, you felt your orgasm come as soon as his as you came together letting out loud moans of pleasure. he pulled out of you, his seed dripping more and more.

jisung then fell onto you, kissing you once more before speaking again.

- hm… i think we’re cool right ?

he snickered.

- shut up jiji.

you chuckled while fluffing up his hair. jisung was yours, and you were his. your bodies felt intertwined to eachother after such an erotic orgasm.

[beanmachine69]

can you write a fake dating situation with lance stroll??

Now and Later | Lance Stroll

Fuck, not this again. 

This was one of the reasons you avoided hanging out with this particular group of friends back at home. Sure, they were great fun and all, but they all still had your stupid ex on instagram and were quite fond of posting stories- location tag and all included. They weren’t super close to you, but since you landed that fancy job in the media management department for Aston Martin, they just loved to pretend like they gave a damn about you or your life. Clubbing with them was fun though, and you needed a distraction from the stress your home-life had sprung at you. God, how you missed your old friend group, you were happy for them, but you really missed hanging out with them; they were fun, sweet, supportive, and were fully aware of how obnoxious your ex-boyfriend was. 

You had moved away from the dance floor when you saw him, hiding your face near the bar. He saw your group and was slowly advancing towards them, so as to not raise any alarms. You reached the bar and ordered another drink, if you were going to talk to that bastard, you were going to do it drunk. You downed the first drink faster than you expected and were ordering the second when you felt someones’ hand on your shoulder as they sat next to you on the bar. 

Welp, this was happening. 

You turned, adorning the most annoyed expression that you could, only to see your much loved (by you) colleague. His smile dropped when he saw your expression, confusion washing over his face. 

“Uh, hey is this a bad time?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Oh my God Lance, I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else.” You apologized, expression dropping immediately as your face turned bright red.  

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, just some old problems that won’t fucking leave me alone.” You mumbled into your glass as you brought it to your face.

Lance laughed, and there began another problem which you’d been desperately trying to avoid. He looked so ridiculously adorable when he smiled, and even more so when he laughed. The way his usually intense eyes would soften and crinkle on the sides, and how cute he sounded when he laughed. God, having a crush on Lance was terrifying, not just because of the power dynamic, but also because you could never be sure if he actually reciprocated anything. You had caught him staring a few times before, but sometimes you’d also seen him completely zone out and stare at things, and so, for the sake of your own sanity, you brushed it off as that. 

“What type of problems are we talking about here?” He laughed, politely gesturing for the bartender to bring two of what you were having. 

“Oh y’know, I don’t wanna bore you.” You replied, almost embarrassed to be talking to him about this. 

He seemed to not have heard you, so he leaned in, allowing you to get a pretty good smell of his cologne. Sure, you’d been in accidental close proximity before, but this was so much more different. You both were out of the green Aston-Martin apparel you were accustomed to seeing each other in, and you were certain that he lingered a moment too long after you had repeated what you said. 

“Oh, you’re not boring me at all, I’d love to know more about you, we barely get to talk at work.” He replied, bringing his stool closer to yours, “Plus, I’d love to see what's got you drinking like this.” 

He had to have been drunk, or at least a little tipsy. You two had joked around and had your laughs before, but this just felt so different, he suddenly seemed so much more comfortable and confident. Maybe the lack of cameras and the general stress of the job was doing its magic or maybe it was your low-cut top that had him acting differently. Either way, you weren’t complaining. You liked it when Lance would talk to you, even more so when it would be a one-on-one conversation between you two. It always felt natural almost, like you two were great friends in the past or something. 

“Oh Lance, y’know how it is,” You tried stalling, there was no way you were going to dish about your ex with him, nope it was far too embarrassing, “This and that..”

“This and what? Come on, tell me already.” He laughed, determined to find out why you looked so stressed at a bar and why you had managed to finish your drink this fast again.

“I-” You were interrupted when you spotted your friend pointing at the bar, directing your ex towards you. Panic set in, and you knew you didn’t want to have this conversation, especially in front of someone who was technically your boss. 

Luckily for you, Lance was quick to read your eyes, following their direction and understanding that the man slowly approaching you two was definitely coming there with a purpose; considering the look in your eyes, he also understood that you weren’t particularly excited to be at the receiving end of this supposed purpose. He was slightly tipsy, and you looked really pretty tonight, so he decided to take a barely calculated decision. He knew he had to act fast, considering the man was barely a few feet away, Lance grabbed your face, turning it in his direction. Your eyes widened at the unexpected physical contact, barely managing to process it before he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips felt soft in contrast to how heated the kiss was, his lips passionately moving against yours as one of his hands slipped down to your waist, hooking his finger in the loop of your jeans and pulling you onto his lap. You were surprised, to say the least, but you reciprocated it nonetheless, leaning onto him as you straddled his lap, surprised at the stability of the stool you were seated on. And for a moment, when you two pulled away for air- and you locked your eyes into his- you forgot about the reason for the kiss, melting as his eyes looked in yours before he pulled your face in again, thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss. 

If it wasn’t for your ex clearing his throat, you two would have probably gone at it for longer, with neither one of you having any objections at all. You turned your face at the man who stood half a foot away from you two, staring angrily at you. You readjusted yourself in his lap, leaning into the facade, you brought a thumb near your lips, cleaning the slight smudge of your lipgloss.

“Hey.” He said, glaring at Lance. 

“Hi.” Lance smiled, both hands now on your waist. 

You could cut the tension with a knife if you wanted to, your ex-boyfriend had no right to be this annoyed, especially not at Lance. His anger was unjustified, and almost annoying, who was he to get mad if you were dating someone? It's not like he knew it was fake. 

“Who’s this babe?” Lance asked, looking at you with the sweetest eyes imaginable, making you melt momentarily. 

“I’m her ex-boyfriend.” He replied, inching closer to the two of you.

“Do you have somethinggg to say?” Lance asked, turning to him.

He opened his mouth for a minute, surprised at how direct the question was. This was definitely not what he was expecting.

“No?” Lance asked, barely allowing him to answer, “Alright, cool.” 

He turned back to kiss you, his hand finding its way back to your cheek that was now currently bright red. Sure, you thought Lance was pretending, but to him, he just saw this as an opportunity to act out on something he’d been feeling for a while now. He’d thought you were cute the moment he saw you, but it wasn't until he talked to you separately did he realize the fact that he liked you. He was way more than excited when he saw you walk into the club with your sexy little top on, and he was more than glad when you came towards the bar. Sure, he’d have wanted to ask you out in better circumstances, but he was definitely not going to complain about his current situation with you on top of him, slightly grinding on him as you two were making out infront of your bloke of an ex. 

You were the one to pull away, coming to your senses when you thought the room was clear to drop the pretense. You were flushed, your breath uneven as you fixed your top that hiked up slightly because of Lances’ exploring hands. 

“Uh,” You weren’t sure what to say, “Lance, I-” 

“I’m sorry for not asking, I just thought it’d be better than talking to that loser.” Lance chuckled. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if it was how cute you looked when you were flushed, but he really did get an urge to drop all possible formalities. If you could have given that guy a chance, then maybe Lances’ odds weren’t so bad at the moment. Plus, at one point, he was certain neither of you were pretending. 

“No no, I didn’t mind that at all.” You replied, dipping your head down a little to hide the blush that was painting your face.

“Good girl.” Lance whispered, face close to your ear. 

You didn’t think you could blush any harder than you were at that moment. You felt like you were going to explode, everything had happened so fast, and you ran through so many emotions, you were practically feeling lightheaded. Chugging all those drinks didn’t help either, because now you were certain that you had passed out and this was all a dream. Snapping yourself back to reality, you became aware of the fact that you were sitting on Lance Strolls’ lap in a busy bar. You hopped off him, fixing your hair and lip gloss as you stood next to him, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed all that happened. Luckily your friends were too busy dancing and your ex hadn’t seemed to recognise Lance, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Uh, thanks for saving my ass right now,” You mumbled, barely able to look at him, “I really didn’t want to talk to that guy.”

“Hey,” Lance stood up, towering over you as his arms got a hold of your sides, prompting you to look up at him, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, just uh, a little surprised, that’s all.” 

“Surprised in a good way or a bad way?” He asked, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

“A good way.” You smiled, entranced by his eyes enough to not care about how hard you were blushing.

“Good, because I was hoping I could make this pretense a reality, and uh take you out for dinner tomorrow?” He asked, a small spark of hope in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah that sounds great.” You replied, almost needing to pinch yourself to accept the reality of the situation. 

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He smirked, “Why don’t you go tell your friends that you’re going home and I’ll drop you home right now.” 

-

-

-

-

A/N: Hi! sorry I got carried away, thank you so much for the cute request anon! I loved writing this, hope you liked it! <3

Also, I don't know if this was cliche? like I thought of a plus one to a friends wedding type of fic, but that was also kinda cliche? idk, I hope I didn't disappoint haha

As usual, my ask box is open for requests and criticism, lmk how you like it!!

[lxinesux]

i’m holding my breath for you

Characters: Tasm!Peter Parker

Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader

Summary: Reader regrets her time with Peter and attempts to push him away to get her friendship back. Peter does not take it well. Smut ensues.

Warnings: Blood, Fingering,Loss of Virginity, Floor + Counter Sex, Creampie, mildly dark!Peter, Possessive Sex

A/N: There’s a read more because this gets smuttyish pretty early. love creepy peter, hes just a liddle freak 😭. this is the unexpected second part of a story i posted in june-ish. read the first part here!

It had happened, it was real.

He got to touch the untouchable-make you cry out and cum and squirm. He did that. He had been the first to do that.

He’d wanted to fuck you-either with his fingers or his cock-but you were way too spent. He teased you relentlessly in the shower-chasing water droplets that ran over your body with his mouth, touching you all over, kissing you roughly against the shower wall.

You were irresistible, adorable, as you shied away from him, trying to keep his hands above your waist.

“I don’t think…I can’t…”

You could. You could come again. Over and over and over until you couldn’t stand. But he didn’t want to push you. That had been your first orgasm with another person. Stamina could be worked on later.

You were in your head, too. He could tell. You were never the most talkative but there was something going on between your ears he desperately wanted to know about.

Did you regret it? What happened?

Fuck. Did you not trust him anymore?

Was there a way for him to regain that trust?

-

He corners you in the kitchen, the smallest room in the entire apartment. It was very easy to do, given how small you were in comparison to him.

“We have to talk.”

“About what?” You turn away from him, trying to organize the groceries you bought on your measly paycheck. There wasn’t much, and he could tell you were avoiding him. You could only pick up and put down the same clementine before it became personal.

“About…that.”

“No, we don’t.”

His heart breaks a little.

He thought he’d made his case very clear and apparent.

He was in love with you. Had been for a very long time.

“I haven’t felt the way I do about you since…”

The silence lingers heavily in the kitchen. Your spine is ramrod straight, shoulders tensed. And you’re not looking at him.

Looking like a perfect soldier. Looking like you weren’t human, but a perfect robotic clone. The portrait of frigidity.

His stomach twists. Okay. Alright.

“Forget I said anything. We can just…we can go back to where we were before.”

“Can we?”

The knife between his ribs twists. Wonderful. Great.

“I don’t see why not. We can just..forget this happened.”

“Peter…”

He brushes past you, “Gotta head out.”

“Peter, wait-”

“‘Ts fine. There’s nothing left to say, fresh restart. Factory settings. Just…stop.”

And you do stop. You watch helplessly as he crawls out of the window and into the frigid night air.

-

Peter was avoiding you entirely.

You attempt to wait up for him, now that he’d made a habit of going on patrol without you. But more than once, you would fall asleep.

You found yourself missing him. The smell of his skin, his hair tickling your nose, the feeling of his arms around you while you slept.

The few times you saw each other in the apartment, he was curt if he made conversation at all. Not even a good morning or good night, just ‘hey’ and ‘bye.’

You’d rather be in the basement at Oscorp getting your brain scrambled than deal with this pain.

-

You had gone on your own patrol and had gotten back way past mid morning in an attempt not to run into Peter. You’d changed into your civies and walked through the front door-

There’s a stranger in your apartment.

She must have not seen you or if she’d seen you, she didn’t care. The entire apartment smells like breakfast-smoky and sweet alongside the bitter sting of coffee.

And she’s wearing Peter’s favorite t-shirt.

It’s fucking Lucy. Lucy from fucking accounting. She couldn’t figure out how to use the copy machine. The goddamn copy machine!

And she was in your shared apartment.

She had slept here, had slept in Peter’s bed, your bed.

She fucked your Peter.

The kitchen isn’t that large, the aisle blocking off the living room is short enough that the two of you make eye contact as soon as she turns her head.

“Lucy, I told you to-” Peter’s voice comes from behind you.

“Get the fuck out of our house.”

How dare he. How fucking dare he. Fucking sleep with some random girl beause you wanted space? You wanted his friendship back and he fucks LUCY?

Her lips are parting, like she wants to say something. Her hand is on her hips, like you’re just some girl in competition. Like you didn’t know how to break her neck in a millisecond, like you didn’t have the training to ruin that pretty face.

In an instant, she was an enemy and your programming slams into overdrive. You’re up and over the counter in a millisecond, the t-shirt bunched into your first.

Superhuman strength is a blessing and a curse. You only mean to maybe shove her lightly.

What you do instead is leave a Lucy sized hole in the cheap door to your apartment. She lands at the end of the hall. Every door on the floor is flung open, revealing shock and amused faces alike-all of them turned to you.

-

“You’re so lucky we weren’t evicted,” He sighed, “And that Lucy was only a little bruised.”

A little bruised was an understatement. Lucy has a contusion in her shoulder that’ll take weeks to heal.

You tried not to look too pleased at the news as you helped Peter install the new door.

“She’s lucky she was only bruised,” You breathe through your nose.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why did you even bring her here? Couldn’t you guys shack up at her place or something?”

“I didn’t think you’d be back before morning.” He actually has the grace to look guilty, maybe a little sad.

“Whatever.”

More silence.

You chew diligently on your bottom lip until he speaks.

“I’m sorry. It’s been weird these past few weeks. I think…I think it’d be best if I moved out?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, you’re actually comfortable like this? We nearly fuck, we kiss. You mauled my one-night stand! You push me away, you try to reel me back in. Forgive me for getting mixed signals!” His hands move into his hair, running his fingers through it, “I can’t do this anymore, I really can’t! Seeing you, it’s like…it’s fucking torture. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t talk to me for weeks and this is what you have to say!? You think this is easy for me?! God, Peter! I don’t know how to feel about you! I’m a fucking lab experiment gone rogue! I’m barely a person! What part of that screams girlfriend material to you!”

“I’ll let the landlord know I’m getting off the lease. I’ll be out at the end of the month.”

“So that’s it?”

“I can call Stark back, so you aren’t by yourself. I know you hate that. I don’t want you to have to be alone. We just…can’t be alone together. Not like this. Not until I’m over this…”

“Fuck you, Peter Parker.”

The new door slams, the hinges cracking.

-

You’re awake for hours, waiting for him to come home. You smell him before you see him.

Blood. You smell blood, thick and salty, and wrong on Peter.

His suit has been shredded along his abdomen, the blood making the spandex cling to the open wounds.

He nearly falls through the window and you catch him before he hits the floor. Guilt is swift and immediate.

Wordlessly, you help him to the bathroom. He doesn’t fuss, doesn’t put up a fight.

You peel off his suit gently, careful of the-are those claw marks in his chest? Before you can grab the first aid, his fingers are loosely wrapped around your wrist. He pulls you towards him. Pressing you against him, his sweaty bloody body touching your skin. He lets out a tense breath.

“Peter-”

“Just let me hold you. Just for a little bit.”

You can’t say no to him. You let him run his fingers through your hair, rub your back. Gently, you lay your head on his shoulder, trying to be careful of his wounds but selfishly trying to soak up all the emotion and touch you haven’t felt in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” He breathes out after a long stretch of silence.

“I..I’m sorry, too.”

“I kept trying to push you.”

“I was trying to protect you from me.”

He takes your face in his hands. His blood feels tacky on your cheeks. He brings your foreheads together, his breath warm against your lips. You remember what it was like to kiss him. How he’d begged for it, begged for something so simple as that.

The thought makes your body pulse in ways you don’t want to think about. Not right now. His thumb rubs against your cheek, leaving your flesh tingling in its wake.

“I don’t need you to protect me. Let alone protect me from something I want.”

“I told you before, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He chuckles weakly before letting you go. You grab the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet but still feel his eyes tracing along your back. When you turn, he doesn’t shy away from his staring, a goofy smile still plastered on his face.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

“Peter, can you focus?”

“So mean to me,” He pouts when you come near him, “I’m injured and you won’t kiss me better?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Healing factor is making you loopy. Sit up straight, I’m going to disinfect your wounds.”

“Yes ma’am,” In the same scratchy voice that he had when he-

Ugh. You are not thinking about that right now. Even if he’s being too handsy, running his hands over your hips, up your sides. Trying to pull you into his lap.

“I can smell it, ya know? Super senses.”

You want to dose him with the rubbing alcohol bottle just to get him to stop talking. His blood was clotting nicely and you’ve since surmised that most if the blood on him wasn’t him as you feared.

“Smell what?” You dab him gently instead. A tight, clean gauze dressing and the deep marks should go away in a few days. You apply the clean cotton and begin to wrap him up, seconds away from applying skin safe tape.

“When your cunt’s wet, when I turn you on. Like now. Can smell it, always have. That’s how I know you want this too, you’re just scared.”

Your noses touch when you look at him earnestly, “I am scared.”

“I’m scared, too,” His fingers move through your hair, his eyes scan your face, “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t wanna lose your trust.”

It feels good. The silence surrounding you doesn’t feel as oppressive knowing that you’re both in it together. Your eyes close without your permission, lounging once again the comfort of just having Peter touch you again.

“I trust you, Peter.”

You feel his face move further toward you, his lips inches away from yours.

“Say that again,” he whispers breathlessly, “Please, say that again.”

“I trust you.”

-

It was the closest thing to confirmation he was ever going to get, but he’d take it.

His lips press against yours, a soft peck. Another and another until he can feel your body relax. He’s been so starved of you, greed fills him when your lips part. He lifts you up, possessive hands firm on your ass.

God, you were soft. So soft and warm. He wants to devour you, piece by piece.

He puts you on the bathroom counter, your legs hike up over his hips. Your pussy is pressed against the tent in his pants through your thin sleep shorts.

He won’t pull away. His lips leave yours only briefly to catch his breath. Your shaky hands move through his hair and he shutters.

“Missed you so bad,” He whispers, “Missed you so fucking bad.”

His hands move up your shirt, his warm hands traveling up to your bra and then running back down to your thighs.

You whimper, your flesh breaking out in goosebumps. His lips trail pecks from your mouth, across your cheek, and down your neck. The soft noises you make control him. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this and he wanted to be the only one to give it to you.

The only person you’ll ever have. The idea of anyone else seeing you melt like this makes him suck the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth.

“Peter-“ Slightly desperate. Begging almost.

He pets your hair, “Shh, baby. I’m right here. Do you feel me?”

He pulls your hips tighter to him. Your fingers dig into his shoulders. When you hiss between your teeth, he can feel himself leak precum.

“Y…yeah…” You move minutely against him, “Yeah, feel you. Feels good…”

He kisses you again, just to taste the words. He pulls away just to get your shirt off. New skin for him to put his mouth on. He unhooks your bra easily, how starved he was for your flesh. He mouths along your collarbones, leaving bruises with his mouth that would linger on your skin.

He kisses down your chest. Your nipples are hard and pink and distracting.

“Peter, Peter, I-“

His tongue swirls around a nub, the other is tortured by his fingers. He pulls it away from your flesh. You try to move your chest further into his face. Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. You gasp and writhe.

Fuck, you’re getting so wet too. He can feel it against him, dampening the front of your panties and his Spidey suit.

His cock aches. He needed to be inside you, couldn’t take getting pushed away again. He was going insane. He was going to jump out of his skin if he had to wait any longer.

“Get down.”

“Wha?” Your voice is thick and heavy. Your eyes are glazed over. It’s making it so much worse.

“Get down, lean over the counter.”

For the first time in weeks, you do as you're told. Your panties are around your ankles before you realize it. He spreads your ankles apart.

Your pussy is pink and glistening. His mouth waters while he admires it. You whine.

“Nah baby, don’t be embarrassed. Most perfect thing I have ever seen…” He kisses along your shoulders, down your back.

His hand moves between your thighs, “You’ve never had anything inside this sweet pussy, have you?”

Your cheeks are flushed, “No…”

He smiles, reaching around your front and pressing against your clit.

“Oh my god-“

“Breathe, baby,” He presses the tip of one finger against your opening, “Gonna open you up so I don’t hurt you. It’ll feel good, I promise. Just breathe.”

One finger slides in instantly. In and out, hearing the sound of your soaked cunt. He can see your legs lock at first as you feel the awkward pressure. You relax again when you get accustomed to one finger. Another slides alongside and you keen as the press against that spot inside you.

“Too much…” You whimper.

“Pretty girl, I know you can take more,” His fingers speed up slightly as you leak against him, “Fuck, you’re so tight. Been dreaming about you cumming around my cock…”

Your eyes flutter closed, your mouth opens just slightly. Your hips move back against his fingers. You might be trying to say something, but the only thing Peter can hear is-

“Ah, ah, fuck, please…”

Your face in the mirror is gonna make him lose it. He gently tilts your head back.

“Look at yourself,” He whispers in your ear, eyes locking with yours in the reflection, “Look at what I’m doing to you…”

Another finger, his free hand returns home to your clit. You don’t avert your eyes, even though you really want to. Watching your own skin flush, your pupils unfocuses, your jaw slack.

“‘m so close…so close…”

Embarrassing for you, arousing for him.

He pulls his hands away from you. You whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “No!”

You feel the tip of him press against your hole. Protests die in your throat. He’s big. So big, you don’t know if he’ll fit. He might tear you apart. You feel so empty though, open and ready. If he doesn’t do something, your heart is gonna explode in your chest.

You trust him.

He’s trying so hard to be patient. You’re a fucking velvet vice around the head of his cock and he wants to feel you all around him. He pushes in farther, letting out a strained moan.

Your breathing picks up, your eyes squeeze shut. He knows before you say. He can feel your walls pulse, your thighs quivering-

“Cumming, Peter, fuck I’m gonna-“

He nearly finishes right there and then. Your cunt tightens impossibly around him, trying to milk him for all his worth. Your body crumples, nearly hitting the floor. He holds you while you shutter through it, kissing along your temple.

He guides you gently to the floor, laying you on your back before boxing you in with his own. He guides your thighs over his hips.

He slides in much easier after your first orgasm. By the time he’s fully seated inside you, you already accept your fate. He takes a minute to look where you're conjoined, your puffy pussy taking all of him.

He pulls out just enough before slamming back in, watching your face. Your groan, your head lulling back. He does it again, and again. Shallow, slow thrusts to get you used to the weight of him. He’s seeing stars behind his eyes, watching your face contort while he overstimulates you on purpose.

“You’ve got more in you,” He pants out, “I know you’ve got more in you.”

Those swallow thrusts change into deeper, faster ones. Hitting that spot inside you over and over. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat, his blood is drying on your body. The sight of it is making him insane. Peter leans over and starts sucking bruises into the soft flesh of your neck. His teeth trace your jugular.

“One more,” He breathes in your ear, “Gimme one more…”

Your abs are twitching underneath him, whimpering and whining and clinging to him. You say his name over and over, like it’s the only word that exists in your brain.

His thrusts get more sloppy, feeling your own second impending orgasm build pushes him toward the edge.

“Gonna cum inside you…” Not a question, a statement.

No going back.

You only cry out, seeking out his mouth to drown out the embarrassing noises you’re making. He licks into your mouth just as you tighten and gush around him again.

With one final thrust, he cums deep inside you. He bites down hard on your lower lip.

Now, he’s got your blood on him. No matter how small the amount.

“I love you,” He whispers against your skin, “I love you…”

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. You lean your head against him.

“If you love me, really, you’ll help me clean up.”

He laughs. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in weeks.

“Fine,” He presses a noisey kiss to the crown of your head, “Shower?”

“A shower shower,” You say, “No funny business.”

“I promise nothing.”

“Christ, Peter, at least wait until I can stand…”

It’s a start.

[louloulemons-posts]

The Criminal And The Princess III

Grumpy!College!Eddie X Sunshine!Skater!Reader

Summary : the nights in full swing, but what happens when billy hargrove messes with eden when eddies around?

Word Count : 1.4k

Warnings : billy hargrove, assault, there’s a fight, swearing, billy’s a prick, apart from that it’s pretty fluffy.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie and his bands set was incredible, all of us were cheering loudly. They played a couple of their own songs and the some covers. Metallica of course, Black Sabbath and even some Led Zeppelin.

Eddie came over to us, a huge grin on his face, Steve pulled him into a hug. “You were great man!” Eddie laughed, loudly, squeezing Steve’s shoulder as he pulled away.

“Thanks man, thank you all for coming!”

“Of course, I was excited to see you play outside of class!” Robin said.

“You know each other?” I asked Robin. The girl nodded, “Yeah he’s in music with me and Vickie.”

I hummed, nodding my head. Eddie was chatting away with Steve, when his band mates came over. “Guys these are my friends Steve and Robin, and this is Nancy, Jonathan, Vickie and Argyle.”

His brown eyes met mine, “And this is Eden.”

“Oh Eden?” One of the boys cocked a brow at him, throwing a smirk at him too. “Yeah,” Eddie said, elbowing him, “This is Gareth, Jeff and Doug,” he spoke, motioning to each.

Greetings were exchanged, “Let’s get another round in, Herrington give me a hand,” The curly haired boy spoke, heading to the bar.

“I’ll go give them a hand,” I told Robin, following after the two boys. “I’m here to help,” I smiled at Steve.

“What are you having?” Eddie asked me.

“Vodka lemonade please, I’ll pay you back for it,” I spoke. Shaking his head, he brushed me off, “No need, playing bands and friends get free drinks.”

“Friends?” I smiled.

“As soon as you spoke about Metallica we became friends Princess.” My skin was covered in goosebumps at the pet name, I couldn’t meet his gaze as my cheeks flushed.

“Okay these are Vickie, Robins and Nancys,” Steve said, passing me three drinks, “You good with those?” I hummed, nodding my head as a yes, and began walking over to group.

“Bennett, how you doing Sweetheart?” a slimy voice said from behind me. “Billy,” I said, and continued walking. “Oh come on, stay and drink with me.”

“I’m with friends,” I tried as hard as I could to get away, but I hand on my waist. “Come on, why are you still playing hard to get? You know it’s gonna be me and you in the end, star hockey player and ice skating queen.”

“I’d say Harrington was the star hockey player.” He was stunned silent, a couple of his friends sniggered behind him, but Billy made them shut up with glare.

“Come on Sweetheart, join us.”

“I said no Billy.” Without a second to react, the blonde boy grabbed me, yanking me towards him. The glasses that were in my hand dropped, smashing on the floor, causing a cheer to go through the room.

Billy pulled me to his chest, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Billy let go,” I said, trying to tug away. “You’ve been playing with me for too long, so we’re gonna have a drink and then we’re gonna go home together.”

“No we’re not!” I shoved his chest.

“You little- why can’t you just do as you’re told?” he snapped, yanking me back.

“Let her go Hargrove,” I felt another arm pull me close, “Or what Munson?”

“You don’t want to know.” It was Eddies arm around me, he gently pulled me behind him to shield me. “Oh fuck off you freak! She’s mine.”

“Well she said no.”

“So what?” With that Eddies first smacked into Billy’s face. “Eddie!” I shouted. With a sadistic grin, Billy grabbed Eddie, yanking him forward and smashed his head to his own.

The pair threw punches at one another not stopping, even when Steve stepped in, he was pushed away. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah I’m fine.”

“COPS!” some yelled. With that Eddie shoved Billy over and grabbed my hand pulling me from the bar. “What the fuck? Eddie where are we going!?”

“Just keep up will you!”

Our feet slammed against the floor as we ran, Eddie letting out wild laughter. “You’re crazy,” I chuckled, out of breath.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Finally we came to a stop, both breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” Eddie asked, turning to face me. “Yeah I’m fine, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did, you’re my friend, right?”

“Right.” Eddie squeezed my hand, I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding it. Letting go, he smiled at me. “Do you like milkshakes?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“If we carry on down here, we’ll be at Benny’s diner, want one?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Motioning at me to walk, we went on our way side by side. “Are you going to be in trouble?” I asked.

“Probably but it’s fine, wouldn’t be the first time.”

I cocked a brow at him, “Uh, petty crimes.”

“Ah I see.” Bumping his shoulder against mine, he smiled, “What about you?”

“What a criminal record?”

“Yeah.”

With a grin I shook my head, “Nah, don’t have the time.”

“Oh yeah, ice princess.” I laughed at that, “Something like that.”

“When did you start skating?” he asked.

“When I was 4, my mom used to skate so. When did you start doing music?”

“About the same as you, my mom played guitar.”

I hummed, “She must be proud, you’re great.”

“I hope she would be.” Oh. You know that saying. “Yeah, I hope my mom would be proud too.”

“When did she pass?”

“I was 12.”

“I was 10.” I hummed, “We have more in common than I thought.”

“What for a criminal and a princess?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh we’re here.” There was Benny’s diner, proper 50s all american movie looking. Red booths lined the walls, with road signs and wheel covers. “Woah, it’s cool in here.”

“Right.”

Leading me to a booth, I slid in, feeling the cool leather beneath my legs. “So what shake you feeling?”

“Strawberry.”

“Good choice, I’m more of a Chocolate shake guy myself.”

“Munson,” a gruff voice said, making me look up and away from Eddie. “Benny, how are you man?”

“Good, you keeping out of trouble?” The man, Benny, asked. “Trying too,” Eddie flashed a cheesy grin.

“That’s what I like to hear, and who’s this?”

“Benny, this is Eden. Eden, Benny is the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Eden? You’re Ethans daughter?” I nodded my head at the man.

With a hum, he faced Eddie,”You know what sucking up gets you Munson?”

“Two free shakes? One Strawberry, one chocolate?” With a deep laugh, Benny nodded, walking away. “Damn Munson, you really have a way with people.”

“I know,” he smirked, resting his face on his hands.

I couldn’t help but smile at the boy. “I’m sorry I haven’t text you yet.”

“Oh it’s okay, first week back after summer is always crazy for everyone.”

“Well I’m free Sunday?”

“Yeah, Sundays good. Speaking of texts, I should let the girls know where I am.”

“Go for it.”

Pulling out my phone I saw the groupchat consisting of me, Nancy and Robin was going off.

🤍🔮✨The Girls ✨🔮🤍

E, Nance, Robs

Robs : E where did you go?

Nance : steve said there was a fight?? There were cops ????

Robs : are you okay????

Nance : steve said hargrove grabbed you so eddie hit him???!??!?

E : Hey! sorry i’m okay, im with eddie don’t worry!

Nance : thank god! Do you need us to come get you??

E : no i’m okay! you can head home, sorry i ruined the night!

Robs : you didn’t hargrove is a pig

“One Chocolate shake for you, and one strawberry shake for the lady,” Benny said, smiling at us. “Thank you.”

“Thanks Benny.”

E : i gotta go, i’ll text you when im on the way home love youuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

“All good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah they just wanted to know where I was.”

“With your knight in shining armour princess.”

“Ah yes, sir Munson thank you for saving me from that foul beast,” I played along.

“You’re not like what I thought,” he smiled, tilting his head. “Neither are you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“I’m sorry I couldn’t drive you, my vans at The Hideout and if the cops are there,” he pulled a face, which made me laugh. “It’s fine, thank you for walking me home.”

“Well of course, knights much protect their princess.”

“I’m sorry again for getting you in trouble.”

“You didn’t. So stop apologising. I’ll um .. I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Yeah, 3pm at the library?”

“Sounds great, if anything changes I’ll text you.” I hummed. “Well Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“Goodnight Princess.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

AHHHHHHHH

taglist : @gnrquinn @flawiette @taylorswiftsloverfr @mygirlchaos @marvelcasey05 @ali-r3n @browneyes8288

let me know if you want to be added 🫶🏻

[itsohh]

To Let Go

A/N: Female reader, I take the canon and I fix it (make it worse). This had been stuck in my mind since I finished the campaign. Well after it soaked in. This does focus on your relationship with Soap / Ghost but also your friendship with Gaz. (He's just a great friend ngl)

Summary: A series of small snippets in the throuple life between you, Ghost and Soap. From when you first met through your mutual contact and friend Gaz until the end events of MW3.

Word count: 5005

Warnings: angst, major canon character death, sucidal thoughts, MW3 spoilers.

AO3 Masterlist

The Meeting

2020

The group of them stared at the table before them, Laswell on call. "This is far from home. We're going to need to get help." Price paused and looked towards Kate on the screen. "Got any friends that know Australia."

"A few." Her eyes cast towards Gaz. "You’re in luck, one just happens to live on your back door. Garrick knows them rather well."

Kyle's lips parted and he shook his head before he smiled and folded his arms.

"I'll track her down." Kate nodded. 

"No need, I reckon I know where she probably is tomorrow night."

"And she'll help us?" Soap asked.

"She will if I ask."

-

The pub was a complete roar. It was uncomfortably packed. All the screens had been changed and the thick smell of alcohol filled the air. Everyone's focus was on their drinks and the screens above. 

"This is where we find your contact?" Ghost hated the close proximity of everyone in the building. 

"Yeah she should be right around the corner in a booth-" His voice was cut off as everyone in the pub let out a roar. Drinks clinked and splashed everywhere while people hugged each other. A different scene was set when he slipped into the corner booth. It had been almost completely empty, strange for such a packed pub.  

"Gaz. Long time no see." You didn't look away from the television that was in perfect view. 

"What game is it?" He asked as the rest of the task force slipped in next to him. 

"Bledisloe Cup, in Brisbane."

"Who's winning?"

"Who's your friends?" You countered.

"This is Captain Price, that's Soap and this is Ghost." 

For the first time, you took your eyes off the television and sized up the men. "Captain? Suppose this isn't a pleasure meeting then."

"'Friad not." Price spoke up. 

"Hmm. Sorry, I can't help you. I'm suspended." You immediately shut them down. Gaz's lips parted and his body tensed up. 

"You're suspended?" 

"Uh-huh. We might be allies and all but can't help you if I'm not supposed to be working. Gonna have to find another girl for your situation."

"Why you suspended?" Soap asked. 

You leaned on the table and your head turned towards him. "Officially or unofficially?"

"Give us both." Ghost answered. 

"Well officially…" You swirled the liquid in your glass. "It's a paid suspension until I am reassigned."

"And unofficially?" 

"I taught my Captain the importance of making the right call."

"You punched another one of your COs" Gaz sounded annoyed. 

"This happen a lot?" Ghost asked. 

"Only since they stuck me here."

"For someone whose job it is to play nice with others, you don't do a very good job of it," Gaz said. A smile curled up on your lips as you took a sip from your drink. “Do I even want to know?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

“...Maybe another time.” Your eyes went up to the television and you pressed your lips together as your glass made contact with the table. “Hypothetically, what did yah need me for?”

The men exchanged looks and Gaz gave Price a small nod. Price produced a folder from inside his jacket and slid it on the table towards you. Your eyes found it and you flicked it open like a book. “This is… oh fuck this is Australian territory- this is…” Your eyes darted between the men. “Why the fuck do you want in here- actually don’t tell me. You guys won’t be able to legally get in here. The Australian government will never allow it. No Australian will help you.” 

“Which is why our mutual friend recommended you.” Ghost spoke up.

“Gaz?” Your eyes landed on him and narrowed.

“Laswell.” Price corrected.

“Laswell’s in on this? Hmm, look yeah I know the area pretty well, not like any native but well enough. If you can get Laswell to pull some strings about my suspension I’ll help you out. Even if this is off the record I’m grounded and would be in a lot of trouble if I leave the country at the moment.” You drained the rest of your drink and spun the glass around on the table. Their eyes were drawn to the sight a second before you stood up. “Gaz has my number. Do call it sometime.”

“What about your game?” He gestured to the television above you.

“We already won the series. The outcome of this doesn’t matter. Besides, the mention of work has stained my night.” 

-

Kiss Me

2021

You laughed as Soap sang out on the stage. His voice was horribly off-key but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the pure joy on his face. You had been transfixed on him, just as Ghost was next to you. How could you not? Forget a ray of sunshine, he was the entire sun. Warm and full of light, he was breathtaking in a way that had your cheeks heat up. 

It was so easy to pretend, the way he serenaded you. Truly a performance. Soap reached out for you to come join him and you furiously shook your head. 

"No way MacTavish." 

"Come on. You have been on the couch the entire night and it's not very often we get a karaoke machine."

"Thank god for that." Ghost mumbled next to you. 

"I'm with Ghost on this one. If I had known that you would be trying to get me to do this, I would have shot you lot down at the pub."

"Awww come on, besides you had fun at the prison."

"It was in fucking Tasmania. I hate Tasmania. Get your boyfriend here to come and sing with you instead." 

The pair of them froze the second and exchanged a look. 

"Oh? Husbands then?" 

"How did you know we were toge-"

"Soap we are almost always working. My room’s next to Ghosts. I hear you guys all the time." 

"Fuckin hell." Ghost grumbled under his breath but Soap seemed almost excited by the information. There was a glint in his eyes as his lips curled up. It seemed like they had been trying to keep it a secret. Yet, the way he looked at you, the way both of them looked at you, there was something else to the matter. 

"Heard all that but never bothered to come join us?" 

You let out a cough of shock which turned into a fit. His gaze burned into your skin red hot and you turned to see a similar one from Ghost. 

"You’re joking." You managed to cough out. 

"Negative." Ghost's voice had your hair stand up on your skin with anticipation.

"You’re serious." You swallowed as you managed to compose yourself. You looked down for a moment. 

"Less you don't want to. An't gonna force you."

"I don't do casual."

"Fine by me. What about you Ghost?"

"No complaints here."

"I- I've known you for like four months. Why? Have you been looking for a third is this-?"

"Nah, nothing like that. We like you." Soap sat on the sofa next to you and you could practically feel the way the boys were toying with you. 

"Nothing more to it than that. Don't overthink this." Ghost's voice now came from behind you as you faced Soap. 

"Do the pair of you normally fraternise with teammates?" You mean the words to come out humourous but your voice died a little and it came out as a breath. 

"Only the pretty ones." Soap was quick to reply and you could practically feel Ghost roll his eyes behind you. 

"Ask Johnny." 

"Canni kiss you?" 

"Yeah." 

Soap leaned in, his lips slowly on yours and you were aware of Ghost the entire time. His eyes watching you but somehow that didn't turn you off in any way. You pushed into Soap and snaked a hand into his hair. It gave you a good place to grip as you deepened the kiss. He moaned into your lips, clearly delighted in the turn of events as your tongue sealed entrance into his mouth. 

It was a request that wasn't granted right away as his tongue met yours and messily tangled with your own. Soap's hand landed on your thigh and gave it a decent squeeze but was promptly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Price and Gaz were back.

You separated from him, lips slightly swollen and Soap gave you a knowing smile. "We can continue this later yeah?"

"Yeah."

-

I Love you 

2021

It had been a close call. Too close for anyone's liking. One of those 'life flashing before your life moments'. But it wasn't a bunch of memories of everything that ever happened to you. No, the only thing you could focus on was the voices of your friends, your lovers. 

Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. While you couldn't understand what they were saying you could still hear them. You had been so horribly pinned down. If Ghost hadn't been there for overwatch you knew you would have been a goner. 

It seemed like everyone had brushed it off. After all, close calls were part of the job, but it still played over and over like a broken record. 

The warm bed with both of your lovers had been a sanctuary that you left. The night your mistress as you stared up to the sky. Death had stared you in the eyes and was killed. 

"Can't sleep?" Ghost came up and joined you. He leaned on the barrier but you didn't turn to face him. It didn't surprise you, he was a light sleeper. 

"Cut it a bit close today." You breathed. 

"Saw that."

"Thanks for having my back."

"Someone has to keep you alive." A silence settled between the pair of you for a couple of minutes. It was a comfortable silence that danced well with the refreshing coldness of the night's air. 

"One day this job will take me."

"Takes all of us. Good soldiers don't last long." 

"Your still kicking."

"'M not a good soldier."

"Right bastard you are LT." Soap's voice joined the pair of you and he settled his way to your left. 

"Sorry if I woke you Soap." 

"Beds too cold with our the pair of you." He mumbled.

"Surprised you can tell with your furnace of a body." Ghost said. 

"Oi-"

"I love you. Both of you." Your voice interrupted them and they went silent. "So much it hurts." You look down over the railing. "I could have died today without telling you. That doesn't sit right with me."

Soap whispered out your name and then you suddenly felt his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest and Ghost pressed his chest against your back. Sandwiched in between them you were engulfed in their bodies and warmth. 

"We love you too, lass. Always."

-

Reunited

2022

Your legs burned. Most of your energy has already been spent on the mission. Now every Shadow in Las Almas was out to get you and you really just wanted a warm bed. Separated from the rest of your squad and alone in the dark, you could only hope that Soap and Ghost made it out. 

Any hope to reunite with them had been thrown out the window when your radio broke. It didn't matter if you survived, only if they did. A trail of bodies marked where at least one of them had been. In all honesty, you couldn't tell the difference between Soaps or Ghosts kills. All were expertly done. 

At the moment you could feel it. The difference between you and them. They were the best of the best. You? You certainly weren't bad but your spot in the team was one due to convenience and the information that they needed at the time. They would survive and you would not. Somehow the fact didn't make you was. 

So long as they continued on. That's what mattered. That was the realisation you made as you slid down against a wall. A line of blood painted the wall behind you until you met the ground. The bullet wound that had gone clean through you had been attended to by the best of your ability but it was almost impossible to deal with the hole in your back. 

You wondered if a Shadow would find you first or if you would just bleed out. A fate so many civilians of Las Alma's were given. A blinding light in the darkness had you squeeze your eyes shut. It was like the sun on steroids. It didn't matter much because the second you closed your eyes they became far too heavy to reopen. 

"Fuck it's her. She bleeding bad."

"Get her in back, we need to go now." 

Those voices, angels of their own kind. A weak smile curled on your face and you managed to grasp out while you were moved about. "Johnny." You weakly whispered and put your bloody hand on his face. 

"I got you, we got you."

-

Care

2021

The lights were far too bright but nothing like you had experienced before. A groan left your lips and you attempted to move only to be stopped. A hand kept you still but you pushed away. 

"Stop that else I'll let you bleed out."

"Simon?"

"Scared the shit outta us you know that?"

"’M sorry."

"Should be." You cracked your eyes open to meet his. 

"Where are we?"

"A safe house Alejandro told me about. I patched up your wounds. You've been out for a while. Lucky too."

"That I didn't bleed out?"

"That nothing happened to you while we were gone."

"You left?"

"Had to, the three of us got Alejandro out of prison. The old man showed up with Gaz as well."

"Thank fuck they're okay." 

Ghost continued to repatch your wound and your eyes cast across the room. 

"What's going on?"

"Plans to take back the base." His eyes met yours as your mouth opened. "No your not coming." 

You bit your tongue for a second and nodded. Silence ran between the pair of you, only the sound of the Vaqueros around you chattering away prevented true silence. 

"Thought you were dead." 

"Felt like it."

"You didn't radio in."

"It got busted." 

"You took a bullet for Johnny."

"Rather I take it than him."

"He wanted to stay, to look for you."

"And you were the voice of reason I presume. 

"Don't do that again."

"Ghost…" 

His back straightened up and his eyes narrowed. "Wanted to search the entire city for you."

"That's Johnny for you-"

"-We both did."

"I…You made the right move in the end. Leaving."

"Couldn't lose Johnny as well. Wasn't easy convincing him to leave the city. Pure luck we found you."

"I don't know why you're mad at me. What did you want me to do?"

"You were ready to die there. You gave gave up. Don't ever stop fighting because we won't stop fighting to get you back. Ever. We're a team. Don't you forget that."

-

Roadtrip

2022

It had been hours that the group of you had been in the car. Save for the few put-stops made along the way. Ghost sat in the driver's seat to the right while Soap was on the left. The sun above was oh-so bright while the roads were relatively clear. 

With your seatbelt stretched far, you leaned on Ghost's seat in front of you. There was only sometimes chatter among the pair of you. A comfortable silence settled in and was only disrupted when one of you saw something of interest outside the window. 

The current silence was when your ears perked up. "Oh my god, I love this song. Turn it." You patted Soap's shoulder. Ghost was the one to turn it up but didn't say a word. 

"Fan of Elton John huh?" Soap smiled over his shoulder.

His question was answered by your singing that picked up in the car. A wide grin spread across his face as he continued the duet with you. 

Honey if I get restless

Baby, you’re not the type 

That grin on his face was reflected on yours as you bobbed your head side to side with the music. Soap turned it up a little bit more. 

When I was down

I was your clown 

"An't that the truth." Ghost muttered and you slapped him on the shoulder but you couldn't help but laugh into the song. 

Don't go breaking my heart

I won't go breaking your heart

-

Dance

2023

Soap and Ghost finally made it into the pub where Price and Laswell waited for them. There was a calm relaxed vibe in the room as the two men settled down with drinks in hand. 

"Laswell. Captain." Ghost greeted and Ghost followed. 

"Boys."

"Where's the other two?" Soap asked and Price lifted his glass to point towards the jukebox. There in front of it, you danced with Gaz. Poorly at that. Music blared seemingly louder when the pair of them looked. 

Your head tilted back as you laughed only to duck down under Gaz's arm as the pair of you danced. Ever so faintly they could hear the pair of you sing along. 

Ghost pulled out his seat and sat down, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. Soap did the same and while a piece of him wished that was him there with you- it brought him joy to see you having so much fun with Gaz. 

Ghost's hand settled on Soap's knee under the table. The need for touch, any touch. "Been at it for a while those two have." Price lifted his drink to his lips. 

"Make quite the dance couple." It was rare for them to see Laswell with her hair down, even if it was metaphorically.  

"Mentioned something about not dancing since she moved out."

"They lived together?" Ghost asked. 

"Briefly when she first moved to England from what I heard. Seems the dancing queens have finished up, you can ask yourself."

-

Love

2023

The smell of sex filled the air as you cuddled up to Simon's side. Completely bare, not even his mask protected his face. He looked directly at the ceiling as your head rested on his chest. Johnny mirrored you on the other side. 

"I love you both." You hummed seemingly out of nowhere. Soap cocked a brow and Simon looked down at you. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

-

His End. 

2023

There was something about going as fast as you possibly could and still being late. There was something about trying your damn hardest and still losing. There was something about giving your all and it all being taken. 

There was something about arriving only to find your heart on the ground. Already dead. Just the last to know. 

The sound of the trains ran in your ear. Gaz and Price's voices were so distant even though they were only a few metres away. The talk of a red wire met your ears but didn't enter. You were the first to crumble. 

Your knees hit the ground in shock as your hand shakily reached for his face. Still warm. Still so so warm. You had just missed him. Two minutes early- two minutes and he would have been there. There, safe in your arms, not cooling on the ground. 

"Simon." It was your other lover's name you called. In that moment the small whisper could only be heard by him as crouched next to you. It was all you could say. A beg for him to do something as if he could resurrect the man before you. 

Broken and unsure, he was always the one with answers. The one that knew how to make things right. Not this time though. Tears didn't swell in your eyes. They couldn't. All you felt was cold. Shock cursing through you. No longer were you a hardened soldier but a young woman. A woman who had just lost her love. 

When you finally looked up you found you weren't alone. Anger coursed through Price, a silent anger that oh had never seen before. A violent one that was only controlled by the tightness of his first. 

Gaz had a sadness to his. He leaned down to close Johnny's eyes and you couldn't help the choke gasp that left your lips as he did so. When you finally dared to look at Simon's eyes, his met yours and you saw the glassy layer of tears that threatened but wouldn't fall. 

He was gone. 

-

Home

2023

It wasn't often you left without Ghost. Yet when the group of you silently got back to base, you didn't bother to go to the debriefing. You couldn't. Your body was on complete autopilot as the sight of Soap dead on the floor played your kind

That autopilot got you home. Not to the apartment that you shared with Soap and Ghost but your own apartment.  The one you hadn't been to in what felt like years. Only the odd check-up for the sake of your insurance. 

The door was pushed open and your feet took you inside. Your fingers found the record player and you turned it on. Just like you used to do many years ago when you first settled in there. 

She packed my bags last night, pre-flight

Then you broke. Snapped. You were brought back and you let out a howl. A deathly scream and the damn burst. Johnny was gone and he was never coming back. Every moment had been the last. Only alive in memory, that promising future or his had been sniffled out. 

It's lonely out in space

You swore out and grabbed the first thing you saw- a lamp- and smashed it down on the ground. "Johnny!" You screamed. A horse scream, one from the very pit of your core. The side table was pushed over as you saw red. Tears streamed down your face as you smashed the glass coffee table in front of your sofa. You didn't care that the glass cut into your first when it collided. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. 

The television was the next to go. The DVD player was the perfect object to be filled out and sent into the middle of it. 

Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone

Your CD collection, partially empty now thrown to the ground. What caught your eye though, was the pistol that had been strapped to the bottom of your side table. It had fallen from the holster and in a moment of grief, you picked it up. 

The buzz of Gaz's phone had him pick up. It wasn't often that Ghost called him. 

"Do you know where she is?"

"Went home didn't she?" Gaz's voice was quiet, tired. 

"Not here. She's not picking up her phone either." Ghost didn't need to say that he was worried, Gaz already knew. 

"Well, she could have meant her home. She has an apartment not too far from the base. I can text you the address. I have a key."

"I'll meet you there.”

The apartment building was rather dark when he arrived. In all honesty, the place you picked wasn’t the greatest. A shithole of an apartment complex really. But it was discrete and the neighbours never complained. Or at least they had never complained when he would share late nights with you with the music up loud. 

Gaz knocked on the door a couple of times but didn’t receive an answer. Doubt crept up on him, perhaps you didn’t go back there. Regardless, he had to check. The key slid into the slot with ease and he pushed the door open. He silently swore as he saw the scene before him. Your entire apartment had been completely trashed, everything destroyed without mercy.

A light buzz from your record player hummed in the air but besides that, there was little sound. Or so he originally thought. As he took a step inside he heard the faintest of sobs coming from the kitchen. Gaz was on high alert and his hand went to the pistol at his hip. But when he reached the kitchen his shoulders dropped and his brows softened. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He rushed to your side. You sat on the floor with your back leaning against a kitchen cabinet. Blood ran down one of your hands. “What happened? W-”

“He's gone.” For a moment he thought you meant an intruder, someone trying to hurt you but realisation was quick to cross his face. Alarm bells went off in his head as his eye went to the gun that shook slightly in your trembling hand. 

“I can’t… I can’t do it anymore Kyle. He's gone and I can’t… I can’t bear to be away from him.” 

His head tilted in empathy as tears rolled down your face. 

“I just want to be with him again. I wish we never went down there.”

“We had to, thousands would have died.”

A bitter laugh left your lips and you choked on your tears. “I know it's selfish of me to say but I would have preferred that. Anything to have him back.”

“You know that and I know you don’t mean that.”

“Fuck, I do. I really do Gaz. I love him so much.”

“He loved you too but he wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he's gone.” You shouted out and waved the gun. “I’m so tired. So so tired. He didn’t deserve that. He's too good of a man. I would have given anything to trade places.”

“Your right, he was a good man.” Kyle moved so he was sitting next to you against the kitchen counter. “The best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so head over heels for someone. For you and Ghost. I know for certain if something happened to either of you, any of us really, he woulda tore the world apart.” Gaz put his hand on your knee. 

“I wish I could  held him,  have told him I loved him one more time.”

“He knew and I think it does matter what he wanted because you care about him. He would want you here with Ghost. If you…” Gaz paused, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words killed yourself. “Hung it in early, he’d be alone. He just lost Johnny, just like you did. I don’t think there would be anything left to him if something happened to you.” 

“I…”

“Simon loves you. He’d be completely shattered. Just like the rest of us would.”

Your tears came down harder but he watched as your grip loosened on the gun and made the slightest twitch towards him. Slowly and gently, he took it from you and placed it on the countertop behind you. Gaz turned towards you and offered you a hug, one you took without hesitation and cried into his shoulder. Messy and wet but he didn’t care. His hand went to soothe your back as he held you tight. 

As he looked over your shoulder his eyes made contact with Ghost’s. His eyes were glassy but hardened as he stood there frozen. “You’re not alone in this. I promise, we all hurting just as much. But we’re a team yeah? We got each other's back.” 

You pulled back from Gaz and nodded. His hand came up your your cheek and wiped away the tears. “Ghost and I are gonna patch you up okay.”

“Ghost?” Your voice was small and vulnerable.

“Right here.” His voice came from behind you and you turned your head around. Guilt consumed your face and your eyes dropped. Ghost crouched down next to you and slowly took your bloodied hand. 

“Promise me that you will stay.” Tears rolled down his face and were swallowed by the lower part of his mask. Neither of you had ever seen the man cry before. “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” You nodded your head and he pulled you into his arms. 

“I can’t lose you.” He kissed the top of your head, his hands were shaking.

-

Call

2023 

“-Yeah, I’m with them now. At her apartment with Ghost. It’s been a long night.”

“That Price?” Ghost’s voice was quiet as he looked over the sofa to see Gaz in the kitchen on the phone. Gaz nodded towards him before he walked over.

“Here's Ghost now.”

“You holding up?” Price’s gruff voice came through the phone and Ghost looked down to his lap where you lay there asleep. You were curled up to him, your hand now bandaged up. 

“I’ll manage.”

“How is she?”

“Better not, almost lost her.”

“Yeah, Gaz mentioned. How bad is she?”

“She's strong, she’ll heal. It will always hurt but she can handle it.”

“Good. When you can tell her to take some time, the both of you.”

“Makarov’s still out there.”

“He is but we have allies and I won’t let something happen to hurt on my watch. She’ll need you.” Ghost gently stroked your head. “What about Johnny?”

“I’ve got the flights sorted, it’s what I originally called Gaz for. We leave in the afternoon.”

“Understood.”

“And Ghost? Take care.” Ghost's eyes looked over your calm face, still there. Still his. Still alive.  

“Will do.”

-

Let go

The cool breeze soothed your body as you watched as Ghost opened the urn and let the wind catch.

Johnny's ashes spread out in a swirl, destined for the water below. Despite all the pain and all the grief you could help but smile. Just ever so slightly. Gaz had been right. It did matter what Johnny wanted. He would have liked this, to be returned home. He would have liked all four of you there with him. 

Kyle gently squeezed your hand and you wiped away the silent tears on your face. It would be easy dealing with the pain and grief but in that moment, you knew things would get better. 

[strapskinkstories]

Image Source: rubberdirtyboi (I think this was from the now defunct GearFetish site) Roleplay between Ren & Strappy (DM me if you wanna set up a roleplay collaboration!)

Strappy walks up to Ren on the farm, it is a very hot sweaty day, he is wearing denim overalls that are wet with sweat and has heavy rubber gloves on. He asks Ren “What am I doing next, I dealt with cleaning out the pig mud and I cleaned all the chicken coops.”

Ren at the Farm on another day of work, this being very hot, he continued his tasks while Strappy comes close to him, upon hearing the question Ren answear "You'll have to clean up the mess they make, in that place back there"

Strappy grumbled at Ren, seeing Ren wearing the heavy drysuit. “Listen. I’m only wearing overalls and my gloves. I don’t even have a suit for cleaning the shit pit if that’s what you’re talking about!”

“That's not it, I have a great outfit for you to wear" Ren went back and brought an old dress stored inside a stable, which was hidden and smelly because of all the dirt it had accumulated, Still being aesthetically intact, despite all the odor*

What the fuck are you looking for me to do Ren! I can’t wear that to clean the shit pit! It’s barely good enough to wear as it is! That dress smells horrible! What the fuck is it made of anyway? It’s covered in shit and smells oh my god. Smells like rotting flesh.

There's no other clothes for you to wear, so you're going to wear this one and that's it! You better wear it, the place stinks more than this outfit, so you better do your job soon to get rid of it all

Strappy grabs the dress. It’s sticky and slimy and smells horrible. It looks very small. He pulls it on over his head and gags as the slimy dress smothers him several times as he gets stuck several times pulling the tight dress on. It goes down to his ankles and squeezes his legs tight. Strappy says “How the hell am I supposed to do anything like this. I can barely stand let alone walk in this stinking nasty old rubber dress!”

"Are you going to wear it, even if it's tight, that's what we have, is it that or do you go without clothes in all this dirt, is that what you want?" I saw him having trouble getting dressed and went to the nearby place with Strappy to show him the work he had to do

Strappy climbed down into the pit of shit. It was thick slimy and smooth and hip deep. It felt oddly good yet the smell was horrible. Strappy dug around with his feet looking for the drain valve. He yelled at Ren “Come on. This is hard. I can barely move. If I fall I’m gonna drown!” Strappy felt the shit was hard and soft at the bottom. He knew the pit was 50 feet deep and any moment his feet could break the solidified shit and he could sink to his death

I watched the situation Strappy was in, and watched as he sank into the pit of shit, The smell was overpowering and it dominated his nostrils, being highly putrid and disgusting. "So be careful that this doesn't happen, I think one step and you could end up slipping up~"

Strappy dug around in the shit. Finding the drain valve was impossible. The dress smelled bad and it was very restrictive. Strappy said “come on. The dress smells bad. The shit is nasty. Just let me come up and we can do this with the machine the right way.”

"Nonono, this is the protocol that must be followed, find this valve as soon as possible and fix it~" Ren keeps talking, just watching while Strappy was in that deep puddle of poop, he knew that soon he would step into a bottomless spot and end up sinking and drowning to death

Strappy kept walking around. The shit pit feeling softer with each step. Soon Strappy was armpit deep, the shit squeezed him hard making him cry in pain “ PLEASE REN ITS CRUSHING ME!”

"Silence! You're going to do your job, and complete it, and you're not going to leave until you can do it all, are you telling me that you're weak and can't do this?" He kept talking loudly to Strappy, waiting for the moment when he would fall, his clothes were filling up with all the poop and making him very heavy, despite being new, she had an opening that he hadn't seen when putting on the clothes

Strappy slipped into a very soft squishy spot, he screamed “EW ITS SO STICKY AND OH GOD. HELP. ITS STARTING TO PULL MY FEET DOWN AND ITS SO TIGHT. FUCKING HURTS ITS SO TIGHT!” The dress began to rise around Strappys head and he raised his arms. He was now neck deep in the thick shit. He waved his arms wearing the thick rubber gloves “PLEASE REN. GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

"Oh did I forget to warn you? Once you're in there, there's no way out~ so how can I say, you'll stay in there, forever~" I saw that the poop was at the level of your neck, while you were crying out for help. "And don't worry, I'm filming everything, you'll generate lots of likes and comments online!"

FILMING? WHAT ARE YOU WHAT?! NO WAY OUT?! I struggle and scream wildly as the shit touches my chin and squeezes around my head. It’s warm thick and nasty yet at the same time I can’t help but give in to the warm sticky grip. Half relaxed half panicking. The sinking slows as it reaches under my lips. I can’t open my mouth now. All I can do is whimper wildly. The nasty hot steaming shit grows warmer around me and squeezes tighter. I look around in panic as it starts bubbling around me.

"YES! There's no way out anymore, and well, I think you'll love drowning to death in all this liquid poop, don't worry, it'll be a wonderful~ unique experience I'd say~" Filming everything while he saw his body moving a lot over the liquid poop that was now close to entering his mouth. All the poop starts to bubble next to you, while you see there is no way to get out "I wonder how long it will be before you don't make any more bubbles~"

I struggle wildly, the rubber dress slides up over my face. I scream into the shit soaked dress as it clings to my face filling my nose and mouth as I scream and gurgle the shit in my mouth. It tastes horrible yet it’s an oddly arousing sensation to be crushed so tightly. Smothered in warm sticky latex. I can’t get over the stench though, shit soaked rubber is pretty nasty yet at the same time arousal instincts kick in. My dick grows hard against the slimy dress. Suddenly I feel the rubber pressing hard and tight to my lips and nose. The light starts to fade as my eyes are sucked under. I sink into the shit and my head is completely beneath. I squirm and wave my arms wildly. All you can see are my heavy gloves waving above the surface. I hold my breath and luckily the dress has sealed shut around my head. It’s also unlucky because now I am stuck rebreathing the horrible smelling shit stinking rubber. Feeling it entering my mouth repeatedly. It’s disgusting and makes me puke, bubbles rise to the surface as the dress releases some of the air. I don’t know how long I will last breathing the small amount of air trapped in the now puke and shit filled dress.

Strappy is crushed by the amount of weight the suit exerts as it fills completely with poop, and in addition, he sinks to his nostrils below this pit. While enjoying the show, I kept seeing only his Gloves sticking out of the surface, I start to zoom in on the camera seeing the bubbles that were forming while he choked on all the poop. "How's Strappy doing down there? Oh, really, you're drowning~"

The shit fills the dress violently, it smashes against my face and then the dress squeezes my head so tight it’s painful, it forces its way up my nose and deeply into my mouth, as I exhale gurgling sounds come from the dress. As I sink deeper it gets tighter and the shit soaked dress wrinkles against my head as it bunches up coming off my body and tightly wrapping its self around my head and neck almost like the dress wants to kill me. The small area I stepped into now a vice crushing my body I wonder how tight it is as I feel my legs getting flattened. Then I feel it press my cock flat to my stomach under the dress. I orgasm as I exhale and cry as I am sucked down to my chest. It’s so tight it forces me to empty my stomach into the dress which is then forced tight against my face. The crushing pressure is incredible. It slowly covers my face and then I feel it growing tighter around me head to toe. Am I in some compactor? Why have I not died yet?!

"Can you hear me ? I hope so, this is not just a place where you will sink and drown, but yes, there is a place like a compactor, to make your situation even worse~" Every second was worse than the last, all the feces clogged your airways, and every available space, you were buried under a crushing weight, Your breathing was heavy, full of feces and disgusting, and it would be like that until the moment when you could no longer breathe, being suffocated to death

It was horrible, I could feel the rubber pressing into my throat and nose, it flattened my body and it was so hot and tight. I felt my legs burst in a wave of pain, then I felt my stomach and lungs get squeezed completely empty, then it happened, I felt my nose snap flat and the dress squeezed my face so tight!!! It seemed like an eternity between my nose breaking and my body being drawn even deeper, my legs flat as paper, then my head burst open and I die in the sticky shit grip of that death dress!

[chloessleepystories]

Sisters part 9

Sisters … Sisters …

There were never such devoted sisters …

Time seemed to slow, and Chloe had a moment of feeling like she was stuck in one of her video games, the ones where you had to make choices and they all had consequences and sometimes none of the options looked any good. Kenzie had fled the room, having regained a sliver of her cognitive abilities at exactly the wrong time, possibly because of Chloe’s new programming and more likely because of the shock of seeing her mother and aunt in a passionate, nude 69. Mom and Aunt Lydia had transferred their worship of each other to devotion to Chloe, pulling at her clothes and begging to serve her. And Chloe’s father was at the door outside, demanding to be let in.

And the music, full of hypnotic subliminals, was still pouring from the speakers, as it had been for a couple hours without Chloe consciously realizing it. The music was making it really hard to think straight … but it didn’t even occur to her to turn it off …

Chloe shook her head. “Mom, can you – Mom, focus. Let go of me.” She grasped her mother’s forearms in both hands, looking into her glazed eyes. “Ugh, why are you naked?”

Her mother just giggled, then looked skyward as she drunkenly tried to formulate an answer.

“Never mind. Just – listen, I gotta deal with Kenzie, OK? I’ll be right back. You – Lydia, stop touching me there – no, don’t pout – Mom, you and Aunt Lydia *stay here*, don’t leave the living room. Stall Dad, I still gotta figure out what to tell him.” Her mother nodded, her grin a little sloppy as she lovingly studied her daughter’s face.

“You’re so pretty …”

Chloe sighed. Her mother’s face was shiny and smelled like pussy. “And leave Aunt Lydia alone for a minute. OK? No more sexy stuff with each other until I get back.”

Helen looked like a sullen teenager for a moment – a dumb, horny, sullen teenager.

“Promise?” said Chloe.

“I promise,” Helen sulkily replied, but then trembled, her eyes rolling back. Happy chemicals coursed through her, replacing her dopey smile. “Oh fuck it’s so good to do what you tell me …”

Chloe exhaled. “Hoo boy. Uh, good girl. I’ll be right back. Kenzie!!”

Whatever Chloe wants … Chloe gets

As soon as she was gone, Lydia moved in to pinch Helen’s nipple. Helen gently moved her hand away and, as she opened her mouth, another knock came from the front door.

“We gotta do something about Dave!” Helen hissed to her sister.

“Is that who that is?” Lydia ran to the picture window and looked out, not trying to cover herself. “It is!! It’s your ex! And … Ooh, he grew a beard!” She cocked her head, running her tongue over her lips. “You know, that’s working on him …”

“Hi Dave!!!” Helen trilled, through the door. “The kids will be with you in a minute!! They’re just getting themselves together!”

“Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” he called. “Some … stuff came up.”

Normally, Helen would have been pissed at his cavalier attitude about when he showed up to spend time with their children, but today she couldn’t access negative emotions, it seemed like … or be cross at any man for any reason. “No big deal! It’s been a weird day around here!!” She giggled, looking at her sister’s curvy, luscious form. “Some stuff came up for me too!”

He knocked again, a solid pound-pound-pound. “Can you let me in?”

Lydia bounced over to her, taking her sister’s hands in hers. “What do we do?”

“Helen! Let me in!!”

A shudder ran through Helen’s body, and her nipples stiffened.

“Weellll … the best way to stall him is to let him in. Right? Then we’re obeying both Chloe and Dave. And … and if I have to leave *you* alone … what a great time for us both to pay attention to *him*!”

Lydia gave a breathy little squeal. “That’s so hot that you figured that out!!” She kissed her passionately, her arms going around Helen’s still-slender waist, and Helen went along with it for a moment before pushing her gently away.

“Nuh-nuh-nuh …” she gasped …

Meanwhile, Dave was getting real tired of standing on the porch. He was just reaching into the pocket of his jeans to grab his phone and text the girls when he heard the door lock click.

“About time,” he muttered. Aloud, he said, “Is everything Ohhhh …”

His nearly-ex-wife stood in the doorway, gloriously, shamelessly nude in the afternoon sunlight. She had never been more breathtakingly beautiful. She seemed to glow. A flush colored her chest and her cheeks, and her wide smile and lidded eyes sent a shock straight to his libido.

“Come in,” she breathed. “Please.”

She took his hand and he stepped slowly over the threshold, in a daze. There was some kind of music playing, but he barely registered the tune.

He stopped dead at the sight of his hot sister-in-law reclining on the couch, also, spectacularly, perfectly nude. Behind him, he was aware of Helen closing and locking the front door.

Lydia rose gracefully and glided to him, her eyes seductive, as Helen reached around him from behind and began unbuttoning his shirt. He could feel her warm bare breasts pressing into his back. Lydia’s hands touched the fur on his chest as she looked up at him, then slowly, never breaking eye contact, began to kneel.

“Ohhh … Fuck me,” he whispered in disbelief as she took hold of his zipper, already massaging his hardening cock through his jeans.

Helen’s breath was hot on his ear. “I’m choosing to take that as a command,” she murmured …

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Cook

Two very awkward wizards flirt and have a heart-to-heart. SFW.

Martha Hylfyst watched the Wizard of Waterdeep at the campfire with great interest, the open book she was holding long forgotten. She had not expected Gale to be the one who assumed the role of camp cook but was glad of it because he’s just that good. Just as good as Aunt Luci, and that’s a very high compliment.

“If you don’t go over there and speak to him, then I will make you, darling.” Astarion teased, walking by the front of Martha’s tent. “I’ll tell him you have your pretty little eyes on him—”

She squeaked, slamming the book shut. “No!” The half-elf stood and placed the book on the chair she was sitting on. “I’ll…talk to him.” Right. Talk to him. Like a person talks to another person. Not like how a silly thirty-year-old, who’s been rejected by numerous suitors, talks to a charming, kind, funny, sweet wizard of great renown.

Astarion giggled as he reached his tent. “This is going to be quite the show!”

Fuck.

What would Da say? “Just be yourself.”

Mum? “Be strong and confident. You are a Hylfyst and a de Fontaine---act like it.”

Aunt Luci? “Follow your heart, sweetie. And make sure there’s nothing in your teeth!”

Pushing her shoulders back, she tried to maintain a confident yet relaxed walk to the campfire. “Smells good, Gale.” She said with a small smile, her golden eyes sparkling.

He glanced upwards and grinned. “Thank you, Martha! Please, come and join me.” Gale watched as she sat next to him, her hands folded in her lap. Just like Mum and Aunt Luci taught me. “I found some spicy sausages among our rations. That, combined with flour from the Grove, eggs, and water, to make a rudimentary pasta, and fresh milk and spices to make a sauce…” His smile grew even wider. “Well, it’s a lovely pasta dish I would make if I were at home. Something delicious that soothes the soul.”

“Sounds like how I cook at home too.”

Stirring the sauce gently, he raised an eyebrow. “A lady of House Hylfyst cooking?” He then winked at her. Oh, he’s teasing me. Well, I’ll show you!

She wrinkled her freckled nose and smirked. “My godmother, Countess Luci Wildheart, taught me. I enjoy it, especially cooking for me and my friend Nadia. I think I mentioned her before, right? We live together in a small house in Baldur’s Gate.” Stop. Rambling.

“Yes! She’s a bard if I remember correctly?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was coming back from one of her gigs when I was…you know…” Oh great now you’ve ruining the mood. Recover! Quickly! Wringing her hands, she felt anxiety bloom in her chest. “Anyways—”

“I’m sorry. Truly.” Gale murmured as he checked to see if the pasta was done cooking. “It must have been so frightening for you, as it was for us all obviously…ah, it’s done! Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Perfect! This will get things back on track. “Of course!”

“I’m going to attempt to strain this as best I can. If you wouldn’t mind minding the sauce and combining it with the pasta, then that would be most helpful.” He set about using a bowl he magic missile’d some holes into earlier to strain the pasta.

Martha smiled to herself. He doesn’t need me to do this. He can easily do it, but he wants me to. And maybe he knows I know this? And is enjoying this little time together as much as I am? And I hope there’s more of this in the future? When he returned with the strained pasta, he never took his eyes off her as she added the sauce and spicy sausage with ease. “Do you approve of your sous chef, Gale?” she whispered, her smile growing wider by the second.

His brown eyes were full of mirth. “I approve of her very much and look forward to hearing her opinion on my made-in-the-frontier pasta.”

After sitting next to each other at dinner (it was so fucking good), Gale asked if they could speak more and took two shortbread biscuits to share. They ended up on a large log by the river. Far enough so the others won’t hear but still not a long walk away in case something happens. “I was wondering if you could share your knowledge on necromancy. I’m most interested…” Upon seeing her expression change to a mixture of shock and fear, he immediately apologized. “Forgive me for my eagerness. It’s simply that I don’t meet too many necromancers in the flesh, as it were. But if it’s not something you wish to discuss, then I would be happy to talk about anything else.”

So he’s interested in that. What on earth made you think he was any different than other power-hungry wizards? Of course he’s not. Martha turned away as she stood, trying desperately to hide the tears forming in her eyes. “You know what, I suddenly feel tired—” He’s just wants what’s in my head, not me. I never should’ve mentioned it, because now everything is ruined.

“Please.”

She froze, still not looking at him.

“If I have offended you in any way, then I most sincerely apologize. I-I will make it up to you, I swear it. I’ll do anything you ask of me. But please, please,” his voice hitched.“Don’t go…unless you truly are tired, then rest.”

Maybe…he’s not like the others. While he wanted more from Mystra, he’s never shown any tendencies towards darker magic. Trust my heart. Trust him. She turned and sat back down, wiping the tears from her golden eyes. “Sorry. Usually when I get asked about necromancy, it’s not for the best of reasons.”

He nodded. Martha thought she saw tears in his eyes. Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh shit. “My dear, that’s very understandable. Gods, Szass Tam comes to mind and other notoriously evil Red Wizards. Not that you are obviously!” Gale buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m cocking this right up, aren’t I?”

A smile crept onto her face. “It’s alright. I…do you mind if I share the first time, I realized there was something different about me and my magic?” He lifted his head and nodded enthusiastically. She tentatively offered her hand which he took with a soft smile. “Like you, I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. One night when I was about five, I saw a boy in my bedroom. He was around my age, maybe a little younger. He asked if we could play for a while, and I said yes. I didn’t think anything of it.” She chuckled. “I found out later that he was the son one of my great-great-uncles who died of flu as a boy. His spirit was still in Hylfyst Manor and just wanted to play. This went on for a few weeks before my parents caught us playing but obviously couldn’t see him. He was scared when he saw them, saw how afraid they were of him. I reached out to touch him and when I did…they could see him.”

Gale’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me that you---as a five-year-old---made a spirit reveal himself? With a touch?!”

She smiled nervously. “Yes?”

“By the gods, how?!?!? How?! Can you still do this?!” He’s not afraid. He’s excited. Very excited. Like how Horace or Scratch gets really excited before I give him a treat.

“I can, though it doesn’t always work. I also can’t explain how I can do it. When it does happen, there’s always some light, which my parents and teachers think is the influence of Selune or Lathander, but who knows?” She shook her head. “Anyways, my parents told him he wasn’t in any trouble and then his spirit moved on. That was the first of my many communions with the dead and helping them along to whatever awaits them next.”

“That’s very kind of you to do.” He said warmly, giving her hand a squeeze.

Martha smiled nervously. Again. Oh my gods, my heart races when he smiles at me like that. “If I can help them, then I will. That’s not to say it’s easy or fun sometimes…but it’s worth it. And before you ask, none of my own studies in necromancy have explained why I’m like this---a freak.” A freak whose own mother thinks she’s useless…no, Mum’s never said that. She just thinks it. I know she does. I’m not a ranger like her. Not as elegant and pretty a lady as her. She’s braver and stronger. She loves the outdoors. Loves hunting. And then there’s me…

Gale shook his head, squeezing her hand again. “You’re not a freak. You were given a gift, from who I cannot say, but a gift nonetheless.” He let go of her hand and slowly touched her freckled cheek. His brown eyes stared into her wide golden ones. “You use this gift, this power bestowed upon you to help others. That’s not freakish at all. In fact, it’s quite admirable.” Something flashed in his eyes---a realization. “Have you ever heard of white necromancers?”

Her brow furrowed. “Hmm, I think there was a reference to that in a book I read years ago, but nothing specific I’m afraid.”

“White necromancers assist the living and the dead---healing mind and body, moving spirits on, and occasionally going into battle against other necromancers. By that definition,” he’s flashing my favorite charming smile. Gods, he’s so handsome. “You’re not a freak. You’re a white necromancer, which is nothing to be ashamed of.”

That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it?

Shame.

Shame for having this power.

Shame that in a family of barbarians and rangers, I’m the outlier.

Shame that I won’t live up to my own very high expectations.

She nodded quickly, feeling tears in her eyes. “No. No, it’s not.”

I won’t be ashamed anymore.

[lesbianlenas]

ok well let’s see i hate the album title so that puts me off to start w. what also puts me off is seeing 16 songs which says to me that she made too many songs rather than focusing on making less really good ones so i’m already like ok this is going to be not so great. i am going to listen to florida!!! first as a huge florence fan but i will listen to the rest in order after that ok i will put a read more here for my thoughts on each song

florida!!!: “my friends all smell like weed or little babies” 😭😭😭😭😭 songwriter of our generation ok…..let me be real florence shows taylor up in this song so much she’s just such an artist and her part sounds so good vs taylor’s part is just ok. so first part is ok the rest of the song is really good actually. the parts where they sing together are also really good. florence is great at doing backing vocals for both herself & taylor. thank u florence 🙏 9/10

fortnight: found this p boring it’s ok. not terrible or like bad or anything. it’s fine. i feel like it could be any song ever tho. didn’t need post malone on this at all. 5/10

the tortured poets department: “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist” girl what……her lyrics are so weird sometimes fr. first of all he has 35 mil listeners on spotify i think he is big enough. second of all why didn’t u ft him on the album then taylor? idk why i’m beefing over this lyric i just think it’s stupid. girl i listen to artists w like 100k listeners i think THEY should be bigger artists. this one was ok it sounds like a taylor swift song. i guess if u liked taylor swift u would probably like this. 5/10

my boy only breaks his favorite toys: this one is a little more interesting sounding i guess but all three of these songs have kind of sounded the same so far….probably liked this one the best so far since it at least had some variances in the sounds in the chorus and the bridge and outro 6/10

down bad: why does she have to sing in this breathy way in every song it’s so boring 😭 like girl i’m assuming you can sing fr right? this sounds just like the first 2 songs 😭 the way she is saying fuck in like every song is so funny to me tho it’s like she is in middle school and said fuck for the first time and was like hold on now i can say this constantly :) 4/10

so long london: god finally a song that sounds a little different 😩 and she’s actually singing a little more in this one and has a little emotion in her voice. 7/10

but daddy i love him: hate this title so much god….and almost 6 mins 😩 god back to the breathy voice again. ok at least the chorus is interesting. she’s too old for this song she’s in her 30s and this sounds like love story pt 2. girl if ur dad is stopping u from marrying some guy in ur 30s that’s a problem. this feels more like a taylor swift song now that she stopped doing the breathy voice in the rest of the song. this isn’t bad i don’t like the concept of it but it sounds good actually hate that. i would have really liked this age 14 or smth…..8/10

fresh out the slammer: this sounds like the other songs again and she’s doing that breathy voice in the chorus girl open your mouth idk 😭 did nothing for me at all 4/10

florida!!! (again): going to listen a second time now that i’ve heard the other songs. ok i can appreciate this even more now bc it has some variance to it after so many of those songs sounded the same 😩 i do like this song i’m glad she went more for sounding like a florence song than trying to make florence adapt more for her style it makes the song really stand out. 9/10 still

guilty as sin?: it’s ok more interesting than some of the others but nothing that really stands out to me 6/10

who’s afraid of little old me: finally using her voice a little in this song 😩 i like how she yells who’s afraid of little me. i actually like this one i like that she’s angry god she’s actually feeling smth here 😭 i would actually listen to this again probably 8/10

i can fix him (no i really can): is this abt matty healy 😑 doesn’t do this for me at all and is insanely heterosexual. 2/10

loml: this is boring idk what else to say. like this is just like. yeah ok. girl you don’t need this song at all i think u said this already in a song that was somewhat more interesting idk. 2/10

i can do it with a broken heart: ok this one is more interesting again and it’s a little faster. i think i actually like this one omg 😩 i wish it didn’t get slow at some parts but this is the closest she has to a fun song on this album so far. 8/10

the smallest man who ever lived: this one has good parts & boring parts. the first half is whatever but i liked the second part. again the best parts are the ones where she actually sounds like she cares and the music has some emotion rather than just being a beat. 6/10

the alchemy: this song sounds like all the songs on this album were put together and this was the song that was produced from that like 😭 this sounds like every single song on this. 5/10

clara bow: not her referencing herself in this song……this song was so whatever. idk what the point of it was. 4/10

final thoughts: this could have been a potentially good album if she knew how to edit herself. so many of these songs sound the same and say the same things in different words she should have just taken the best parts of them and put them together and made less really good songs instead of just making several songs that sound the same and are mediocre bc of it. i also think she is going herself a massive disservice by leaning into the indie sound again like girl yes phoebe bridgers is popular but u don’t have to be her. i feel like she has lost all sense of personality behind her own work this feels so like. an ai could have made it genuinely. it’s like she is trying to have a mature sound at the cost of entirely removing any of herself from it at all. this was like listening to one really long song tbh w a few songs that stood out but for the most part you could just put them all together and listen to an hr long song and u wouldn’t notice. like that’s not good 😭 i wish she had someone to be like taylor. u don’t need these extra songs. let’s make these songs really good instead. i also wish she would get a new producer or smth that would help her make actually interesting and compelling music instead of just having the same dull background music and her doing that breathy voice that’s barely singing. ok sorry to rag on her for so long but she is a billionaire she has the freedom to make real expressive art that could be experimental or interesting if she wanted to and she just makes. this. like girl u have enough money stop making music for money & start making it for the art of it all. w peace and love. those are my thoughts.