#because the guys in the back look just as ready to fuck you up as Fred holdin' it down in the front

[carisc4pshaw]

Morning delays

In which Spencer and Fem!Reader are late for work yet again because Spencer can’t keep his hands off her. (Smut!)

word count: 1.3k

tags: porn without plot, Smut, co workers, late to work, love, boyfriend&girlfriend, long term couple, showering together, sex, intimacy, P in V, unprotected P in V, Minor breeding kink, raw sex, 18+, fingering (f receiving), mentions of oral sex (f receiving), nipple play.

warnings: 18+!! whole thing is smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them guys!)

notes: I don’t think I missed any tags anyway this is the most sexual thing ever written so I hope you horny people enjoy it.

————————-❤️‍🔥—————————

Just before you and Spencer had fallen asleep last night you had set the alarm for 7 am, it probably wasn’t enough time to get ready in the morning but you had a late night watching a movie with your long-term boyfriend not that either you saw much of it because before you got to the halfway point Spencer was on his knees between your thighs sucking your clit and circling your entrance, sliding his tongue into you until you had reached multiple orgasms.

You were certain the alarm hadn’t gone off yet because usually that would wake you straight away but today you were awoken to your boyfriend’s hands up your shirt resting on your breasts and tweaking with your hard-ish nipples. 

“What time is it?” You asked Spencer with a soft moan. 

“Almost 7 am.” 

“Baby we don’t have time, the alarm is about to go off,” You moaned halfway through what you were saying. 

One of Spencer’s hands slid down your stomach, “You want me to stop?”

“Well no…”

“Is your pussy already wet for me darling?” Spencer whispered into your ear. He wasn’t one for dirty talk all the time but when he did it the throbbing between your legs was only ever worse. You needed him badly and by the feel of things, he needed you too. 

You nodded, “Yes Spence.”

“Can I feel?” His hand still moving lower. 

“Yes,” With your signal he slid his hand under the waistband of your panties avoiding your clit as he ran a finger through your folds to collect your wetness, “Mhm Spence.”

“Beautiful, you’re so wet,” He spoke just before the alarm went off. With one quick movement, he took his hand from your panties and switched the alarm off before positioning himself between your legs. 

His large hands landed on your waist gripping you firmly. He leaned down attaching his lips to a nipple swirling his tongue around it for a couple of minutes until moving on to the next. 

His mouth pulled away from your nipple with a loud pop. He rested his hands at the side of your hips playing with the lace of your underwear. 

“Can I take them off now?” He looked straight into your eyes. 

“Please,” You said with a breathy sigh. 

Spencer pulled them off leaving them somewhere in the room, you’d find them later.

“What do you want?” Spencer asked, one of his hands running from your waist to your hip back and forth. 

Your eyes trailed between the both of you where you could see his erection through his boxers. 

“I want that,” You smiled sweetly and innocently. 

“What?” Spencer smirked. 

“Your dick.”

Spencer nodded, “Let me warm you up first.”

With that, he pushed your legs further apart his hands resting on the apex of your thighs, his thumbs nudging your folds due to the size of his hands. 

He used one of his left thumb to run back and forth over your closed folds. 

“Stop teasing we don’t have much time.”

Without another word he plunged his index finger inside of you, quickly curling it inside of you knowing exactly where your most pleasurable spot was. 

“Oh my god. Spence another!” You moaned with a little shout. 

“Yes baby,” Spencer pushed his middle finger inside, pulling them out a small way to push them back in much harder hitting your g-spot as hard as he could.

You reached down between you pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing it in a quick motion. 

“Oh fuck, Spencer don’t stop,” You moaned loudly throwing your head back. 

Right as you felt your walls begin to tighten around his fingers and that familiar coil in your stomach he pulled his fingers out leaving your core pulsing around nothing. 

“What the fuck babe,” You groaned. You were frustrated, the tears began to well in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry, it just happened when you were frustrated or in this case when you couldn’t reach your peak of pleasure apparently.

“Hey no baby don’t cry,” Spencer wiped the tears from your eyes, “I’m going to make you cum I promise.”

“Why did you stop?” You frowned.

“I wanted you to cum when I was inside of you,” He ran his hand down your hair.

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?” Spencer asked giving you a kiss. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You reached for his boxers pulling them down just enough that his erection sprung out of them before he discarded the material completely. 

“How do you want me?” Spencer asked. 

You blushed biting your lip, “Like always.”

“Honey, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

You hid your face in his neck, “Raw,” You muttered.

Spencer smirked, you usually did it like that now that you had been together for three years and knew you were both clean but he loved hearing you say it. 

He rested his dick against your folds rubbing the tip against your clit to relax you again after leaving you without an orgasm a few minutes ago. 

You loved how his veins felt against you when he did that but right now you just craved him filling the empty space inside of you.

“Please,” You stared into his hazel eyes that were clouded with lust.

You breathed in deeply as he pushed the head inside of you slowly, his fingers coming to your clit to help as he entered you. He wasn’t too girthy but he had length and his head always stretched you out the perfect amount that you experienced a slight tweak of pain before the rush of pleasure.

Spencer wasted no time in picking up the pace pounding in and out of you quickly since you really had to be leaving soon, mornings were always for rougher faster sex and the evenings were for when he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body.

His tip grazed the nerves inside of you with every thrust and that partnered with the firm circles on your clit you knew you weren’t going to last very long. 

“Close already honey?” Spencer moaned feeling your walls tightening around him. 

“Fuck! Mhm,” You couldn’t speak anymore without a sting of moans leaving your mouth. 

“Good girl, hold it, I’m almost there,” Spencer thrust harder, your skin slapping together and your hips colliding.

“Spence please,” You moaned. 

“Yes okay baby okay,” Spencer groaned, “Do you want me to pull out?”

“No inside please.” 

Two more thrusts and you came around his dick just before he spilled his seed deep inside of you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer kissed your forehead which had a few beads of sweat on it. 

“You felt so good,” You couldn’t help biting your lip and giving him a satisfied look. 

“So did you sweetheart. I’m going to pull out okay?” 

You nodded as he pressed his thumb against your clit only to make small circles as he removed himself from you. It was slightly overstimulating but you knew he was just caring for you and nothing more.

“We are so late, we still need to shower,” You said looking over at the clock. 

“I thought we could shower at work, you know training is first on the schedule you’re just going to get sweaty again,” Spencer shrugged getting up from the bed to find the pieces of discarded clothing. 

“Excuse me? I’m showering before we leave,” You said with your eyes widening. 

“Why?” He asked and you hoped he was reading. 

“Because we smell of sex, from last night and this morning and I have ropes of your cum inside of me.”

Spencer smirked, “Leave it there, that’s pretty hot.” 

“You’re insane,” You rolled your eyes and got up from the bed.

“I was kidding, take a shower but I do like the thought of me being inside of you like that.”

Again you rolled your eyes, walking toward the bathroom, “Are you joining? We will save time and water.” 

“If I ever say no to that question, know there’s something wrong with me,” Spencer said following you through to the bathroom. 

————————-❤️‍🔥—————————

[suzukiblu]

First 1k of the 5k I promised y'all as a thank-you for helping me out with that car insurance bill behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind. Like . . . literally zero percent would he mind . . . mind anyone doing that for him. Even if Red Tornado only smells like metal and wires and machinery and, like, a little bit of clumsy scenting from Traya and maybe an even littler, subtle bit of it from, like–Kathy . . . 

Kon feels like an asshole for thinking it, but a dude who is a literal machine and doesn’t even have a designation or pheromones having, like–having even estranged packmates when he doesn’t even . . . when he’s never actually . . . 

Even in Hawaii, he didn’t have a pack. Like–Rex and Roxy had their family pack, and Tana had her family pack, and Dubbilex is a null and totally uninterested in packing up with anybody, which sometimes some shitty part of Kon’s wondered if that’s, like–if that’s why Cadmus picked Dubbilex to be his stupid fake “chaperone” or . . . whatever. Because Dubbilex–Dubbilex wouldn’t ever get too–too– 

Kon’s pretty fucking positive that Dubbilex doesn’t really think of him the way he’s sometimes wished the guy would either. And Roxy–Roxy’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling unless he counts Match, who literally thinks he’s just a shitty prototype and nothing else, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t his pack sibling or anything like that. And even if she had been, he doesn’t even know where she is now; hasn’t even seen her in months. More months than he even actually remembers it being, since he spent a real significant portion of that time, like–literally out of his mind on gross fucked-up amnesia drugs that made him literally feral, so . . . 

And it’s not like it’s not, like–public, that he’s back and currently working for Cadmus and rolling with Young Justice and all that. If Roxy or Tana or anybody wanted to find him . . . they could find him, if they wanted to. 

But they haven’t. 

He misses Hawaii so bad right now. Like . . . all the time, really. But especially right now. 

“Then I will do it,” Red Tornado says. It sounds the same exact way he just said it, like he’s just replaying a recording or something. Like he saved a copy of it the first time, because he was already planning to say it again. 

Kon is definitely gonna be mortified about this later, he thinks as he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his wet eyes. 

“Okay,” he manages. “Uh–okay. Uh. Thanks.” 

He–he could use more stuff to nest with, definitely, and if Red Tornado brings it he won’t have to leave his nest for it, and like . . . the food and drinks or whatever wouldn’t hurt either, obviously. He didn’t think to get anything like that ready while he was distracted looking for stuff with everybody’s scents to nest with and when the Super-Cycle offered him a nesting pit to just–when the Super-Cycle made him a nesting pit in itself to use–well, like. Then he hadn’t really cared, after that. Like . . . that had not been a thing he was worried about, after that. So . . . so if Red Tornado doesn’t mind getting him some of that stuff before he goes . . . wherever he goes to, like, hang out when he’s on his own, well . . . like, that’d be . . . that’d be . . . 

Nice, Kon admits to himself, though that’s embarrassing to think even when he’s already all overemotional and weird anyway. 

But–but it would be. Nobody’s . . . nobody’s gonna come “attend” him, or even just . . . just be here with him, so . . . so it’d be nice, if Red Tornado would . . . would get him a couple things, and he could . . . could pretend like . . . like somebody–like he’d had somebody who– 

Red Tornado he guesses does count as somebody who’d, like, “attend” him a little, but like . . . not like a packmate would. Like . . . in a pack, somebody does . . . “attend” people who’re presenting in it. Somebody–stays, at least. 

Kon guesses the Super-Cycle’s technically volunteered to do that, so like . . . so that’s already better than he thought he was gonna get. And he did find everybody’s scents–or at least, almos everybody’s scents and Robin’s blockers–so if Red Tornado gets him more stuff to nest with too . . . 

That’s–definitely better than he thought he was gonna get, yeah. 

“Is there anyone I will need to make sure the security measure will allow entry to the base?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon–startles, a little. 

“Uh–what?” he asks stupidly, not understanding what he means. What’s . . . ? 

Red Tornado tilts his head, very slightly. 

“To attend to you,” he says. “Did you invite anyone without prior security clearance, or are they a member of the team?” 

“I��they’ve got packs,” Kon says reflexively, too confused to bite it back. But . . . “Like . . . they’ve all got–packs. And, like–school and shit, anyway. I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t bug ‘em with this.” 

He doesn’t even know if . . . like, why even would they come, if he actually . . . 

Red Tornado’s expression doesn’t change, obviously. Like, his expression is literally physically incapable of changing. He doesn’t even adjust the tilt of his head or shift his center of balance or–anything at all, really. Doesn’t even make that electric humming fridge-compressor sound again. 

Kon suddenly feels like something about him just changed, though. 

“I see,” Red Tornado says. “Who will I need to provide security clearance for, then?” 

“Um,” Kon says, and tries not to cringe. “You–don’t. It’s–fine. Like, I don’t–it’s fine. I didn’t, like . . . call anybody, or anything. I’m just gonna, you know–crash for a day or two, and then like, I’ll put everything away and run the scent-scrubbers and everything. That’s, like–that’s all. I don’t need, like . . . ‘attended’, or whatever. Like–I’m not gonna bother anybody with that.” 

Red Tornado’s just looking at him with the exact same expression, but it still feels like something’s changed.

[ok8oriska]

what's it going to take

remus lupin x reader | remus wants you back

If you’re being honest, this party is a total drag.

Your friends dragged you out tonight because you needed “fresh air”. Like you’re getting any in here. It’s a room full of people, and you’re pretty sure Frank and some of the boys are smoking pot down the hall.

You have half a mind to join them, desperate for a distraction. But being inebriated would cause you to lose all sense of yourself, and the last thing you want right now is to make a scene. You start rethinking all that nonsense when you catch sight of Remus on the couch with Emmeline.

Your lovely boy. Well, he’s not yours anymore, he made sure of that. He’s sitting there leaning in so he can talk into her ear. He’s flirtatious by nature so your stomach doesn’t drop until she laughs and moves her hand to his thigh. He catches you staring.

That’s when you decide you need air, heading outside to catch your breath. You thought what you guys had had was once in a lifetime, and maybe it was. Maybe that’s why it was so fleeting. Your heart sinks. You’re about to leave altogether when someone comes outside to join you.

Probably Sirius for a smoke, you think, until you turn around and there he is. Remus.

“You alright?” He asks as if this whole situation is nonchalant.

“Just gearing up to head out,” you reply. He nods.

“It’s nice to-“

“Can I ask you something personal?” you interject. You decide to rip the band-aid off.

He nods, “Of course.”

“How did you move on from me so quickly?” You can’t look at him when you say it, feeling stupid the second the words leave your mouth.

“What are you talking about?” He seems confused, but you can’t tell if it's just an act to avoid hurting your feelings or if he’s being genuine.

“I only want to know because maybe whatever you did will work for me, too,” you continue, meeting his incredulous gaze.

“Who said anything about me being over you?” he asks, and your throat dries out.

You sputter, “You just seem to be moved on, is all.”

“Is this about Emmeline? She’s just a friend; she gets a little handsy when she’s had a drink or two, but it’s all friendly,” he insists.

“Remus, you don’t have to defend yourself. You broke up with me, remember? It’s fine, I just,” you sigh. “I can’t keep loving you if we’re over.”

Remus crossed his arms, “ Well maybe I don’t want to be over.”

“What?”

“I want to be with you.”

You’re frustrated now. Dizzy from the whiplash, “Then why did you break up with me?”

“I wasn’t thinking it just,” he pauses, dropping his gaze, “I just got overwhelmed by the prospect of my heart being in your hands. I’ve never given someone that much control before.”

“Well, my heart was in your hands, too, did you ever think of that?” you retort, sharp as a knife.

“I know now, dove, I was unfair to you, and I’m sorry, but don’t think that I ever stopped loving you for a second,” he looks up, eyes boring into yours.

“Well, fuck,” you say, throwing your hands up. “That just makes it all better then.”

He chuckles lightly against his better judgment. If this were a movie, he’d yell at the screen, telling you you deserve better. “Never go back,” he’d shout. But instead, he’s standing in front of you about ready to get on his knees and beg.

“Remus,” you start, “Don’t fuck around with me.”

“I’m not. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I can go back to how things were.”

He takes a step closer to you, impossibly so, his hands finding purchase on your biceps. “I’m willing to be yours in any way that you’ll have me.”

You drop your head to his chest, groaning. “Don’t get all lovey-dovey on me now.”

He laughs, and you feel it in your skull. “You bring out the worst in me.”

[vershautece]

u not liking the stretch marks u got during ur pregnancy but they make lu go feral

yessss he would make sure u know how perfect u are, you’d start feeling insecure during sex and he’d hate that

imagine you’ve just got on top to ride him but you look down at yourself and remember about your stretch marks: ‘um lu i don’t know if im in the mood actually’ and you go to get off of him but he pulls you back onto his lap

‘hey? what’s wrong, you were just all over me?’ he’s looking up at you concerned

‘um yeah i don’t know, it’s just-’

his hands are rubbing softly over your hips, and you look down at the stretch marks there, feeling bad that you don’t look as good as you did before your pregnancy. you have some on your inner thighs and your boobs, and of course on your stomach - yesterday you guys had sex for the first time since you gave birth, but it was in the dark so you didn’t mind. now he can see the marks all over you, and you desperately want to cover yourself and not bother him.

‘hm? what is it, baby girl? are you still not ready to start having sex? i only instigated it because you seemed happy last night’ he’s still looking up at you with worry in his eyes, and you lean forward into him, wrapping your arms around his neck while he wraps his arms tight around your waist. he kisses your cheek and waits for you to answer

‘i didn’t wanna say anything because i’m embarrassed, but uh, i’m not really in the mood because i feel bad that i’m, y’know, not at my best for you’

‘baby, what do you mean? you were fucking amazing for me last night, i thought i told you clear enough’ he laughs, his hands drifting down to grip your ass. all you can think about is how you’re on top of him and if you lean back again he’ll be able to see every single one of the marks on your skin

‘yeah, i mean i don’t look my best, y’know?’ you get embarrassed just telling him this, anxiously playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. as soon as you say this he gently moves your head back to look into your eyes, while you try to look away. ‘huh? what do you mean? amore - look at me’

you make eye contact with him, and the way he’s looking up at you with so much concern has you melting. ‘my stretch marks, they’re literally all over my body’ you sigh, going forward to rest on his chest again so he can’t see them. ‘yeah, and what? hey - baby, stop hiding your pretty body from me, sit back up properly’ he speaks to you in that deep, honeyed voice, shifting you so you’re sat back up on him again

‘lu stop it i know i don’t look good, that’s what happens after pregnancy, it doesn’t matter’ you sigh, and he clenches his jaw at the way you speak about yourself. one of his hands rubs at your right hip, the other moving to play with the fingers on your left hand. ‘i don’t wanna hear you talk that way about yourself, okay? you have these marks because you carried and gave birth to our baby, and there is nothing sexier to me than making love to the mother of my child. you understand?’ he doesn’t break eye contact with you, and when you try to look away he uses one of his hands to turn your face to him. ‘c’mere’ he whispers, bringing your lips to his and caressing your waist. when he pulls away, he smirks at you: ‘you didn’t even give me time to play with those perfect breasts’, now he’s pressing kisses down your neck, ‘tell you how gorgeous they are… grip your waist and hips, press kisses along your stomach down to your thighs…’ you’re starting to rock your hips onto him now, getting back in the mood as he praises you, your wetness dripping onto his hardening cock, hands pulling at his curls.

‘te amo, bellissima. you gonna let me show you how perfect you are for me?’ he stops kissing your neck to look up at you. ‘mhmmm, yeah, thank you baby’ you moan, humping his erection. he laughs at you softly: ‘i knew you were in the mood, my love. c’mon, let me make you feel good - gonna give you this cock every day from now on, it’s been too long and i need to treat my beautiful girl, need to get your perfect body to cum for me’

‘i love you, luigi - mm - i’m so lucky to have you’ you’re rocking yourself even more desperately on him, as you grip his cock to guide it inside. but he holds your wrist to stop you: ‘hey, not yet, let me eat you out first.’

‘mm, luigi, do that after, i’m so desperate for you, baby - and you can touch all of me in this position. god, i need you to fuck me, please’ you’re whining on top of him, and he laughs as he holds your left hip in one hand and guides his cock into your pussy with the other. ‘so much for someone who wasn’t in the mood, hm? you know you were being so stupid, dolcezza’ he whispers, pushing in the tip. you moan out loudly, and he laughs. ‘shhh, you’re gonna wake our baby. and that’s just the tip, my love’

‘mmm, so big lu’ you whine, gripping his shoulders. ‘oh i know, i know, mhm’ he coos. ‘it’s a good thing she was at your mom’s yesterday when i basically took your virginity again, you were screaming for me all night’ he laughs softly. you’re still struggling today though, and you bite your lip to try to stop the sounds. ‘i’m gonna rub your clit while i push in slowly, okay?’

‘mhm’ you moan in response, and he starts to draw teasingly slow circles on your bundle of nerves as he gradually pushes the rest of himself in you and bottoms out. he groans at the feeling, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you whimper. while he gives you time to adjust, his attention turns to your breasts, pressing soft kisses around your areolas without sucking on your nipples because unfortunately for him, they’re for your baby right now. ‘so fuckin’ pretty… you don’t think these marks are sexy?’ he mutters against your skin, drifting his fingers over your stretch marks before gripping both of your breasts tightly and kneading them in his big hands.

‘lu, mmm, be careful, i might leak’ you moan, and he smiles up at you with a slight smirk, moving his hands to your ass. ‘it’s okay if you do, it’s natural - you ready for me to move? i’ll do all the work for you, just want you to rest on my cock while i thrust up into that pussy, yeah?’

‘yes, that’s fine baby’ you grip his shoulders so tight in anticipation, and he plants his feet on the bed, bends his knees and starts his thrusts, setting a steady pace. ‘mm, luigi, fuck’

‘that feel good, hm? yeah, baby girl? takin’ it so well’ he groans, squeezing your ass and moving his head to get a better look at it. ‘gonna show you that ass in the mirror later, those marks make you look even sexier than you did before - i didn’t think it was possible, mm’ his thrusts get faster now, and he smacks your ass lightly. you squeal, and he chuckles and reminds you to be quiet: ‘sh, princess, remember she’s asleep in the next room’

‘how am i supposed to stay quiet when you fuck me like this, mmm’ you’re breathless and you’re not even bouncing; his thrusts are hitting your g spot perfectly and it’s too much to take already

‘we’re gonna have to start practicing staying quiet for our girl ‘cause i need to start fucking you every night again like we used to’ he lands another soft smack on your ass, and you drag your hand down to play with your clit but he moves it away swiftly and replaces it with his own. ‘bella ragazza, i’m still doing everything for you at least for the next two weeks, mhm? you just take my cock, let me make you feel good, that’s it baby girl’ his fore and middle finger work so perfectly on your sensitive clit, and you’re so in love with how he treats you that you instinctively lean forward to make out with him. your tongues meet, and you moan into each other’s mouths, the pace of lu’s fingers and his thrusts never faltering. the hand on your ass comes up to caress your cheek as you kiss, and after a couple minutes he pulls away, feeling your walls clench around him.

‘oh, amore mio, you gonna cum for me, yeah? lay on my chest, baby’ he pauses his thrusts for a moment as he lies down just a little so you can lay on him - he’s still sat up slightly to continue pounding up into you. when he resumes his thrusts you’re biting your lip so hard so your daughter doesn’t hear, fingers tight in his curls and you’re getting extra stimulation from the way your breasts are pressing against his chest, rubbing up and down his pectorals with the pace of his thrusts.

‘luigi, fuck, baby’ you’re a moaning mess, and you start to feel your boobs lactate a small amount onto his chest. you feel a little embarrassed, but you know he wouldn’t mind and it’s his fault for stimulating your body so well. his hands are gripping your ass tight, smoothing his fingers over the stretch marks there and on your hips as he thrusts up into you impossibly faster.

‘i love you my princess, cum for me - you’re so beautiful, love feeling you’ he whispers into your ear as he moves one hand to caress your hair and the side of your face, pressing sweet kisses on your forehead. when you’re both getting so close, he wraps his arms around your waist protectively and you can hear his soft grunts in your ear. you’re so desperate for your release that you’re rocking your hips back onto his cock, moaning into his neck. ‘i love you, lu, you’re everything to me’ your words get muffled against his skin

‘dolcezza, you’re the perfect mama - wanna give you my last name, give you more of my babies’ his grunts and soft whines directly in your ear paired with his words and his thrusts have you feeling like you’re in heaven

‘i want that so bad, mm, baby, i’m gonna cum’ you’re so fucked out against him, your words coming out incoherently.

‘yeah, me too princess, aw c’mon, we gonna start making another baby, huh? want me to keep fucking you raw every night? i love your body so much’

you’re so glad you’re pressed against his chest so your moans are muffled because otherwise you’d be screaming. ‘yeah i want your cum, oh please lu, give it to me, oh god i’m g-’ you cut yourself off with a strangled moan as you get your release, and moments later you feel his hot cum spill inside you, a loud groan leaving his throat. you’re both breathing heavily for a while, playing with each other’s hair. you’re so cosy on his chest, and you don’t ever want to move. ‘baby, don’t pull out’ you mutter into his neck, and he smiles: ‘you want my cum so deep, huh?’ you both giggle, and he continues whispering to you: ‘hold on, i’m serious now, amore - do you really want another baby so soon? i’ll get you plan b and we can start using protection again - i’m not pressuring you, beautiful. i wanna have more kids but it doesn’t have to be anytime soon’

you pull away from his chest a little to look into his eyes, caressing his curls. ‘luigi, i don’t mind. after going through the first pregnancy i know i’m ready for another baby whenever you are. they say that after giving birth you forget about the pain and you just want to do it all over again’

he smiles down at you: ‘that’s great baby but i don’t think i’m gonna let you get pregnant just 3 months after giving birth - let’s wait, i’ll just start pulling out cause i’m never making you go on birth control’

your heart melts at his words, and then you smirk at the last part. ‘you sure you’re gonna pull out every time? i don’t believe that’

he raises his brows at you: ‘what, you don’t think i can? you’ll see i have more self control than you think’

‘mmmkay we’ll revisit this conversation tomorrow’ you roll your eyes playfully, resting back on his chest again, and you giggle to yourself knowing your man is going to struggle like hell to pull out of you in time every single night :3

[86espresso]

CONGRATULATIONS! Could I please have:

crashing their date with another person purposely

^ and it all was definitely out of spite. not because they were jealous. never. totally not.

with Quinn Hughes please!

thank you so much!! and ty for requesting <3

There is not one person on god’s green earth who makes your eye twitch more than Quinn Hughes.

The only tie you have to him is being his coach’s daughter, which means you’re not supposed to see each other a lot, but you have to because you live in the same building.

On the same floor. Across from each other.

It’s been snarky remarks and banging on each other’s doors with noise complaints ever since.

You would think he’d respect you because of who your father was to him, but no. He just couldn’t stand you the same way you couldn’t stand him.

Your day was going smoothly; you got off work, came home and took a nice bath, and got ready for your date. He seemed like a lovely guy and things were going well.

You checked the time to see that you were late and hurriedly shoved your necessities in your purse and speed walked out of your apartment, quickly stopping in front of the mirror to fix your hair. You fumbled with the keys while locking your door, breathing out in relief when you heard the lock click.

The elevator doors opened up to reveal Quinn. His hair was damp and falling onto his forehead, his black shirt stuck to him in the right places, and his gym shorts were short. As fuck.

He gave you a sideways once-over, taking in your appearance without shame as he walked out of the elevator. “Nice kicks.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking down at your stilettos. “Thanks?”

He laughs as he walks away and the doors close, and it should feel ridiculing, but a weird part of you was convinced that he tried to give you a compliment.

Key word: tried.

[•••]

The date was going fine. It wasn’t great, since he was a little cold with you because you were five minutes late, but it got better as he had a few glasses of wine.

“What a coincidence.” Your eyes bulged out of your head when you heard Quinn’s all-too-cheery tone. Both yours and your date’s eyes traveled to Quinn, who materialized in del t of your booth.

“Quinn, what the actual fuck are you—”

“I was hoping to catch you somewhere around here, you left too early y’know.” He fakes a pout.

“What is he talking about?” Your date directs the question at you.

“Yes, Quinn, enlighten us, please.” You glared daggers into his unfazed eyes.

“Nah, that’s not important. What is, though,” he pauses to pull something out of his pocket, “is this.”

Your jaw drops as he pulls out one of your rings from his pocket. You must’ve dropped it during your rush to leave.

And just when you thought it wouldn’t get worse, “you left it at my apartment, thought you’d want it back.” He laid it in front of you as your date’s face slowly contorted to anger and he slammed his napkin down on his plate.

“Listen—” you start. Your date holds his hand up.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Quinn watches triumphantly as he stomps out of the restaurant like a child. You put your head in your hands. “It gets to a point, Quinn.”

He shrugs and flops down to where your date just sat, picks up a breadstick and takes a bite. “Damn, these are good,” he swallows, “and I saved you by the way. He had bad juju or negative aura or whatever the kids say these days.” Another bite. You feel it. The undeniable twitch of your eye.

You see his point, though. The man made you feel lesser than for being a few minutes late and was quick to storm out without giving you the chance to explain yourself.

“That still doesn’t mean you can just crash my date, Quinn— how did you even find me?”

“I followed you after I found your ring.”

“You’re so—” you sigh, unable to find the words.

There’s a beat of silence.

You groan loudly, all of a sudden, startling Quinn and making him pause mid dip. “What?”

“I’ll have to pay for all of this.” You gesture at the food in front of you.

Quinn waves his hand once. “Nah. I got it.” You’re confused for the second time that night, your mouth open but no words coming out. “What kind of guy takes someone to Olive Garden for a date, anyway?”

“The kind that’s classy enough to not compliment me with ‘nice kicks’.” You smirk, leaning back and crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes. “Be grateful, being nice to you for free is painful.”

You laugh for the first time that night, slipping your ring on your finger.

“You do look pretty nice, though.”

[rafesweetie]

track v. THE ARCHER! (feat. rafe cameron and prissy!reader)

“i never grew up, it’s getting so old, help me hold onto you”

soulmates. that’s what you and rafe were. two souls destined to be forever tied together.

rafe wished he actually liked it.

he felt as though he was putting you through hell daily, the emotionally immature and extremely unstable boy was lending you all his problems, every single horrible thing he’d done, so it could be your problem instead of his.

you’d thought he’d changed. and in your defence, he thought he did too. when he shaved his hair, old rafe was gone for good, in his place was a put-together ceo who had a normal life. until his father died.

in all honesty, rafe had always wished he’d die someday, so that rafe could finally be the man. but, now that it’s actually happened, he feels like the fake dream world he put together has collapsed.

you walk into the bedroom after coming in after getting your nails and eyelashes done, so excited to show rafe, singing his name playfully when you come in. but your smile drops and you stop in your tracks when you see him.

big shoulders hunched over, elbows on his knees, as he sits on the edge of the king-sized bed with his face in his big hands. you’re unsure if he’s crying or just upset.

“…rafe?” you ask, confused.

“hey baby,” he mutters, voice thick and gruff. he won’t look up at you.

you go to sit beside him, rubbing his back through his shirt and scratching it with your new nails. “what’s wrong?” you ask, voice gentle.

“nothin’. rough day,” he sighs, breath shaky.

“are you.. crying?”

“no. no baby, c’mon, i’m a man,”

“i didn’t ask your gender, i asked if you were crying,”

“i know,” he groans, finally lifting his face up to stare at you. “i am crying, okay? rough day, told you,”

“oh,” you’re sadly unsure how to comfort him, you never have before. he’s had his moments but they were mostly anger, never sadness.

“god, i don’t even know how you fucking stay with me,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “i’m a mess. even my own dad didn’t stay with me, not my sister… i mean— you’ve seen my dark side and yet you still stick around,”

“you don’t have a ‘dark side’, you’re not some silly villain, you just have had it rough and you’re trying to cope,” you try to counter his words and assure him. “..but yeah, i guess sometimes you scare me, but i’ll always stick around,”

“who could ever leave me, anyway? not like i let people, m’always stupidly pushy, ruins everything,” he mutters. “but who could wanna stay?”

“me,” you instantly say.

“don’t know how. you’re dating a… fatherless killer— murderer. and you just admitted you get scared of me. god, leave me if you get scared, don’t be stupid,”

“can you stop thinking like that please?” you ask. “you literally misunderstand yourself, which i didn’t know was possible. you’re so brave, and.. killing peterkin was a mistake, but everything you’ve done has been for a good reason. just bad at executing ideas. doesn’t make you a bad guy, i’ll say it over and over again,”

“you see right through me,” he sighs. “wanna know something? that’s terrifying. i hate that you see right through me, i hate it so much.”

“why? because i know you?”

he nods, and you continue rubbing his back. you’re quiet, unsure how to respond and assure him.

“if i didn’t know you, then no one would,” you respond. “isn’t that scarier?”

he nods. “my dad knew me, was scared shitless of him,”

“so you’re scared of me?”

“knowing me means you have some power over me,”

“knowing you means that i’m gonna stick around and not run the opposite direction like you’re so afraid of.”

“you’re smart today, huh?”

you crack a smile at that. you caress his cheek and wipe away some of the tears. “i think you’re always ready for combat. but you don’t need to be, not with me. i’m not gonna hurt you, not gonna do anything. you’re just as scared of me as i am of you,”

“then help me hold onto you, don’t wanna lose you,” he whispers, then he kisses you.

you hate the feeling of his damp skin on yours, knowing the reason, but you have to be there for him, be the archer, be the brave.

[ierr]

reverse comfort // katsuki bakugo

↳ summary you distance yourself from bakugo because you’re self conscious about being together, but he comforts you.

a.n HELLO EVERYONEEEEE, I have good news for you all!! the server is completed!! if you would like to join, the link will be down below!! enjoy.

DISCORD SERVER

you were more distant then normal. always dodging him in the office, keeping conversations short, it started to piss him off by the days went by of you acting like this. many times when you both were alone he would try to ask what's wrong, but you would always dodge the question by asking him a question, or simply excusing yourself from the room. there was something bothering you, he could tell by the way you're acting, and how tense you are around him. he squinted his eyes in frustration with arms crossed as he saw you talking to one of the police officers about a situation with a villain that happened not so long ago, you looked more "comfortable" as you were standing next to him talking. you could practically feel his glare on you, but not wanting to make anything obvious since they’re cameras around, you continued to ignore him as you chatted with the officer.

It was starting to piss him off.

he wanted to figure out what was wrong with you, but you would simply avoid everytime. you felt his eyes glaring at you from the back of your head shivering from the attention, but keeping your composer as you talked to the police officer. when the day came to an end, it was only you, and katsuki in the building considering you are his personal assistant, and on top of that you live with him so he's your ride home. when you were packing up your stuff to get ready to go you felt hands wrap around your waist pulling you close to their body. the familiar warmth..comfort..cologne..it made you tense a little averting your eyes to make sure no one else was here. feeling you tense up in his arms made him groan, "why have you been avoiding me." he asked in a rough, but soft tone, caressing along your hips hearing you sigh, "I haven't been—" — "don't lie to me." you stopped talking, sucking in a breath staying quiet. hearing your silence only made him more frustrated, he frowned pulling back a little to turn you around, now facing him.

you guys haven't been this close in the past few days. you missed his touches.."is there something you're not telling me?." you frowned looking away from him, you were too embarrassed to say what was bothering you..seeing you stay quiet for the second time he frowned, "did I do something?." almost immediately you shook your head stepping closer to him, "no!— no..of course you didn't it's just.." you paused with a deep sigh, for the past week or two you've overheard a lot of conversation about his fans speaking about his girlfriend..aka you. they don't know who he's dating, but there has been photos leaked to the public. luckily your face is blurred in all of them. one day when you were coming back home from getting dinner that night you had over heard a conversation. you were used by now with all his fans calling him attractive or whatever, but what shocked you was the way they were speaking about you. technically.

"I bet she's not even cute.." — "ugh..dynamite is too good for her!." and so on so fourth. you were already feeling a bit self conscious about being with a pro, so hearing these things made you even more self esteemed. you groaned, “it’s stupid..” you said feeling embarrassed about it, but sighing you groaned. “the other day..I overheard these two girls talking about you, and “technically” me.” as you told him what happened, his face scrunched up in annoyance. not at the fact you’re upset, but the fact that people really have the nerve to care about someone who they don’t know love life. after you finished telling him it was silent, but katsuki sighed pulling you closer to him, slightly towering over you. “look at me.” is what he said, looking at him, “who gives a fuck about what others say. they don’t know you, and they sure as hell don’t know me. don’t let em’ get to ya head dummy.” he said flicking your head in a playful matter, glaring at him. “I love you idiot, if anything bothers you, talk to me. don’t distant yourself.” he furrowed his eyebrows, nodding your head. you do admit, you shouldn’t have distant yourself from him considering it wasn’t his fault. that same night, you guys made dinner together like always, and went to bed, but what you didn’t expect while you were sleeping soundly next to him he decided to do the unexpected.

[hoonieyun]

this is what that fucker wants!

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader x park sunghoon warnings: mentions of death and murder, violent threats, yn gets attacked, profanity, overall adult themes, 18+ ignore timestamps and possible typos lol a portion of this chapter is written so please be sure to read the written portion so the story makes sense!

wc: 1713

breakfast with jake was nice, it gave you a sense of normalcy and for once everything felt normal. or as normal as things could be. usually whenever you and jake would hang out, intak was also there. it was the classic trope of older siblings taking their younger sibling everywhere just because it was the duty of an older sibling to look after their younger one. 

your mind drifts off to intak as you drive to the mechanic and how you haven’t even had the chance to see him yet since they’ve found his body. the police station denied you access to do so because he was a part of an on-going investigation and there was still logitistical things that needed to be done before they let you see him. 

fucking ridiculous. he was your brother and for practically all your life, you only had each other. you had your parents growing up but after your dad was sent to prison for a murder that you believe he didn’t commit and was framed for; your mom became as absent as he was. 

she threw herself into the family business, constantly flying around the world for deals and partnerships in the name of “making money for the family” but all you and your brother wanted was your mom to comfort the two of you with a hug and tell you guys that everything would be alright. you haven’t received a hug from your mother in almost 10 years and you thought that maybe with intak’s passing, it would give the opportunity for you and your mother to rebuild that relationship you once had but she was too busy with the family business to even fly to come see her daughter and her dead son. 

you scoffed at the idea of your neglectful mother as you pulled into the mechanic shop, not having the energy to talk with any of the workers but because you needed your car to work properly, you mustered up whatever energy you had to tell them what was wrong. 

the guy with oil stains on her jumpsuit and tools hanging off his belt gave you a quote and an estimate on when it would be ready for pick up and since you had time to kill you decided you’d check out the area the car shop was in. you passed by several shops and things as you drove into the parking lot so you figured you could kill time by browsing. you gave the mechanic your number to call when your car was done and although you didn’t want to because he gave you the creeps, how else were you going to be notified when your car was ready? 

🗡 

the small town that the car shop didn’t have a lot of things in the plaza. there were small boutiques that had antiques and handmade goods, a few restaurants that you hadn’t heard of, and a library that seems like it hasn’t gotten anything new since the 90s. 

nonetheless, you took your time to browse through the quaint little town, popping into different stores if it caught your eye enough. you did however check out the library even though you didn’t think you’d find anything interesting. you mainly just needed to charge your phone and you figured you could find somewhere to plug your phone in the library without having to purchase something. 

you gave the librarian a smile and nod as you entered and she barely paid you any mind, probably because of her vision. you noticed that the glasses she was wearing had the thickest lense you’ve ever seen. the library was quite small and just like you assumed, it was fairly old. there were outdated computers, dust that was probably older than you, and it smelled faintly of moth balls. after finding a spot somewhere in the back of the library, you plugged your phone into an outlet and decided that you’d just wait here until you received a call from the mechanic that your car was ready. 

it was saturday and although you wished you had something better to do, you were content with taking it easy as you went over the documents in your email about intak’s death. you’ve been in contact with a funeral coordinator and were responding to some of his questions. it was going to cost a lot of money and you were once thankful for your mother who worked endlessly so that you and your brother never had to worry about finances. hence, why she was never around. 

you had sent her several texts since you last called her and you’ve only received one word responses. it angered you to see that your own mother barely cared about her own son’s passing but it made sense since she was barely around, it didn’t even seem like she had any kids. 

it was barely 10am when you got to the library and you were trying your best to keep your eyes open but it was getting harder and harder as you couldn’t find anything interesting to occupy your mind as you waited. your eyes began to grow heavy and a yawn escapes from your mouth, you blink a few times and shake your head to fight off the drowsiness but in just a few minutes you find your slowly falling to the side and your eyes fluttering shut. 

🗡 

the library was very quiet, as a library should be, but not the type of quiet because it was filled with people focused on their tasks like reading books or browsing on the old computers. it was the type of quiet that felt eary. like there was a stillness in the room that was caused by an unfamiliar emotion that causes people to freeze. 

only thing was, there wasn’t anyone else in the library besides you, the old lady at the front desk, and a looming figure shrouded in darkness; making its way to your sleeping figure in the corner of the library. it weaves and slithers through the various shelves of books, trying its best to go unnoticed by the old lady; which wasn’t hard since her vision only went past a few feet in front of her. 

the library is silent aside from the clock ticking in the corner of the room and the sounds of the librarian flipping the page of the romance novel she was reading, unknown to her the danger that creeped around the corners and shadows of the library. 

your phone was constantly buzzing with notifications from your friends, several texts that won’t be looked at until a lot later and as the hooded figure got closer to you, it pulled out a blade that reflected the light from the sun beaming into the window behind your sleeping figure. in a one and a thousand chance, the light just so happens to shine across the librarian’s eyes, causing her to look up and with her strained vision, she’s able to spot the hooded figure raising its arm just before the knife swipes at you. 

she shouts loudly, causing it to turn around and look in her direction while you’re jolted awake. confused at the sudden commotion, you’re taken out of your sleepy daze when you see the figure standing above you, a knife in its hand. when it turns its head back towards you, it’s met with a driving force as you kick it in the stomach, causing it to stumble backwards; giving you enough time to grab your phone and bag and run over to the librarian who was already calling the police. 

the two of you run out of the library and escape the danger. you don’t see the attacker run after the both of you. “are you okay, dear?” the old lady asks and you nod, trying to catch your breath as you ask her the same. the police are suddenly arriving and you were grateful that this town was so small because it prompted the cops to arrive in a timely manner. you and the librarian were questioned as several cops made their way inside of the library, only to find it empty. 

they had even checked the back room of the library and every area that the attacker could be hiding; and nothing. you were starting to grow less angry and more fearful. angry that this person took your best friend and little brother, but afraid that you would be next. 

had you not saved danielle that night she would’ve been next. 

had you not woken up because of the librarian, you would’ve been next. 

the cops let you go just as you’re receiving a call who you assumed to be the mechanic. you bid the old lady farewell with a small hug as the cops are driving away and when you answer the call, a raspy and ominous voice answers you. 

“hello?” you ask and for a moment it’s silent. 

“close one that was, huh? you’re a tricky one aren’t you?” the voice speaks and it sends shivers down your spine. you try to look around and call for help but the cops are long gone and there seemed to be no one else on the street. 

“what the fuck do you want?” you bite back and the voice just chuckles. “you’ll know soon enough.” it responds and the call just ends without further explanation. 

you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around what they could’ve meant by it but it struck fear inside of your nonetheless. 

as you begin your walk back to the carshop, your phone rings once again and the unknown called ID, stops you in your tracks once again. 

“look motherfucker, if you don’t leave me alone i will call the cops.” you spit into the phone and you’re met with the voice of a regular man. 

“um.. maam; your car is ready for pickup…” he responds slowly and you apologize profusely for throwing profanities at the man who was just calling you about your car. you end the call and roll your eyes in shame at the awkward interaction that would soon arrive when you had to pick up your car and how you were going to have to explain all of this to your friends later. 

back - masterlist - next

detectives notes: yn, brother of victim intak and best friend of victim wonyoung was attacked two towns over at moonstruck library. attacker escaped, no casualties or deaths. investigation is on-going.

tags: @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@wildtigerlili @mydearyeseo @hoonielvv @leehsngs @immelissaaa @skyearby @shuichi-sama @herrymxxnie @notab1tchwho @minfolio @theothernads

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[nameless-jamie]

I Want You...Professionally

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing

A/N: A tiny little fluff scenario. Just for the vibes.

It was vacation time for Jamie's favorite assistant. Well, his only assistant. She had organized everything, a temporary assistant for Jamie, a good book she could read while relaxing on her couch, but she obviously didn't calculate Jamie's brattiness.

Y/N had barely been out for a week when the first text came in.

Jamie: Who the fuck is this Jerry lad?

She frowned at the message before another one followed.

Jamie: He’s in my kitchen, Y/N. My sanctuary. What’s next? My fucking shower?

Jamie: If he touches my shampoo, I’m calling the police.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. She had warned Jamie that a temp assistant would be sent to work for him while she was on leave. He probably didn't listen. It was supposed to be a good thing—someone to help manage his schedule, make sure he made it to training on time, and prevent situations exactly like this, all while Y/N could chill for like a week. Just one week, please!

Instead, it seemed like Jamie had decided to make it his personal mission to be as difficult as humanly possible.

Y/N: He’s literally just there to help. Be nice.

Jamie: Define “nice.”

Y/N: Don’t scare him off in under a week.

Jamie: Cannot promise that babe.

It did not take a week.

It took two days.

By that time Y/N got an angry phone call from Rebecca. Jamie had apparently run through the poor temp guy so fast that Rebecca had personally told her, “You need to deal with your idiot. Right now!”

And if the exasperation in her voice hadn’t already told Y/N everything she needed to know, the look on the temp’s face when she arrived at the club to talk to him, spoke louder than words could.

The man looked exhausted. Defeated. Like he had seen things no personal assistant should ever have to see.

"Jerry, hey how are things?" Y/N approached the man carefully and spoke in a soft voice. Damn, he looked like he was about to break.

“I can’t do it, Y/N” he had said, shaking his head. “He’s impossible.”

“Yeah,” she had sighed. “He does that sometimes.”

"He sleeps bottomless. BOTTOMLESS! He told me that I have the energy of a wet paper towel. And he only ever eats protein bars."

Jerry started crying out of frustration and hugged Y/N's shoulder, a little too tight. Nice, her favorite blouse is now tear-stained. Fuckin' Tartt.

Y/N patted Jerry's back awkwardly. "Shit, okay. I'll deal with it."

So when Jamie showed up at her flat unannounced that evening—because of course he did—she was more than ready to deal with him.

“Jamie,” she deadpanned, crossing her arms. “What the fuck.”

Jamie blinked at her. “What?”

“You terrorized him.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You made him cry, Jamie.” Y/N deadpanned.

Jamie scoffed. “I barely said anythin'. He cried over one little comment.”

“You told him he had ‘the energy of a wet paper towel.’”

Jamie shrugged. “He did.”

“Jamie.”

He sighed dramatically, flopping onto her couch like he had just run a marathon. “Nah, you don't get it, t'was a whole nightmare. He was just there all the time. Following me around, tellin’ me what to do, actin’ like he knew me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean like how I do my job?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not like you.”

“Oh, really?” She crossed the room, standing in front of him. “Because you’ve never had a problem with me following you around before and telling you what to do. But suddenly, this guy shows up, and you turn into a little shit?”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “I am a little shit. Always been one.”

She huffed. “Jamie.”

“What?” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before looking up at her.

"Why is it different with me, tell me." She put her hand on his arm lovingly, trying to coax the answer out of him.

Jamie was frustrated. "I don't know. Maybe because you get me and... And maybe I don’t want someone else bossing me around, yeah? Maybe I just want you.”

The words hit her like a fucking freight train.

Jamie must’ve realized what he had said because his mouth snapped shut, his jaw tensing.

A beat of silence.

Then—

“In, like, a professional way?” Jamie said as more of a question than a statement.

“Jamie,” she said, with a warning voice.

He exhaled, shaking his head like he wanted to take it all back. “Forget it. I'll go apologize to the guy.”

“No Jamie, wait.” She stepped closer. "I mean you should definitely eventually apologize, you made the guy cry for god sake! But wait..."

Jamie met her gaze, something uncertain flickering behind his eyes.

She licked her lips, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was. “You want me?”

Jamie’s throat bobbed. “Yeah.”

Her heart stupidly skipped a beat. “In, like, a professional way.”

His lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smirk. “Sure. That.”

Her breath caught.

And then, because Jamie Tartt was a menace—because he could never just say something and leave it at that—he tilted his head, voice dropping to something dangerously soft.

“You okay, love?”

She could’ve said yes.

She should’ve said yes.

Instead, she let out a sharp breath and muttered, “Fuck you.”

Jamie grinned and turned toward the door. “Knew it. I'll be off then, apologizing to Berry.”

"His name is Jerry!"

"I knew that!"

The silence that followed after Jamie left wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full of things left unsaid. Y/N thought about his words and their meaning a lot. Maybe I just want you.

Maybe they weren’t ready for the next step yet, and maybe they were, but for now, they both knew one thing—neither of them was going anywhere.

[shares-a-vest]

I had to give Eddie blonde hair (well, a wig) hehe.

"Tell me, my dearest Christine," Eddie hisses, looking at his reflection in his dressing room mirror, "Why do I need to do this again?"

His gaze narrows in on the dorky, short blonde wig on his head – a monstrosity the hair and makeup artist for today's embarrassing shoot just finished gluing to his skull.

It's mortifying!

God-awful.

A career-ending tuft of piss-yellow cat hair, all for some stupid magazine's stupid 'serious' tell-all interview with his own stupid self.

"Don't worry," Chrissy replies, "You look cute."

Eddie shrieks and whirls around to glare at his best friend slash-assistant slash-everything in between.

"Excuse me?" he shrieks, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cramped dressing room.

Chrissy giggles.

"It's just for today," she assures, "The photographer wants you to surprise people! Shed your bad-boy rockstar image to uh... better connect with a wider audience..."

She trails off with that last part, unsure as she repeats the magazine's pitch that left them both more than a little sceptical when the email first came through about a month back.

He frowns and puffs out his chest, ready to discuss the desperate and greedy corporatisation of the music industry. One that stifles creativity, all the while profiting millions off the very talent lawyers and managers (and whoever else in between) want to bend and mould and shape into nothing more than a bubblegum pop princess who –

Chrissy jumps at a knock on the dressing room door. But before Eddie can scream "Occupied!", in walks Steve, looking scrumptious and cozy in his new favourite cable-knit sweater, coffee in hand and smiling wide.

Eddie's face drops.

"Get out!" he screams, palming at the wig.

He wishes he could yank it right off, but he thinks his totally awesome and not-at-all dorky hair might come with it and never recover.

Eddie shudders at the thought.

"Way to greet – oh my god!" Steve cuts himself off as he all but shoves the coffee into Chrissy's waiting hands.

"Thank you," she whispers, hiding another laugh with the coffee cup.

Steve grins back at Eddie like the goddamn Cheshire Cat.

Eddie folds his arms and turns back to the mirror, away from the now rapturous chuckles behind him. But he only gets an eyeful of the wig once again and honestly? He thinks he might cry about it.

"Why are you here?" he dry-sobs.

"Cleared my schedule for the morning," Steve says and soon after Eddie feels a warm body next to his and a sweet kiss pressing to his cheek, "Chrissy said I had to come down here and laugh at you."

"I want a divorce," Eddie threatens despite leaning into Steve's side.

"Nuh-uh," Steve teases, addressing him via the mirror, "You gave me that line last week when I forgot to buy our favourite ice cream."

"It was on the shopping list!"

"And I told you, I had to leave the store because someone was following me and taking photos."

Eddie turns to his partner and smiles, "You looked so cute with your little shopping cart, baby."

He wraps his arms around Steve's middle as Chrissy groans.

Oh.

"I'll leave you guys with... whatever is gonna go on here," she warns, turning to the door, "Just don't mess up your makeup. I'll go and find out what's taking wardrobe so long."

She exits, still humming over her coffee and Steve smiles as he runs a feather-light hand over the wig.

"Now who looks like a Ken Doll?"

"Shut up," Eddie grumbles, pulling Steve tighter.

"What have they got you wearing for this thing?"

Eddie sighs, "A fucking grandma blouse and these really tight cream pants. Stevie, they are so tight."

"Ohhh," Steve coos, "I wanna see those."

[rottenpumpkin13]

Angeal, Sephiroth and Genesis all start growing wings and becoming monsters, essentially defecting together to make it Shinra’s problem.

Who/what do they take with them?

No one could say precisely when it started. Sephiroth would claim it was the moment he first saw a wing on Genesis' back, and Angeal would argue it was when Genesis told them both he was leaving. Genesis, naturally, would blame Sephiroth for existing too perfectly and throwing the balance of the universe into disarray.

Regardless, the point was that one day, SOLDIER's elite began sprouting wings, and instead of doing the sane thing—seeing a doctor, maybe asking Hojo and Hollander what the hell was happening (not that they ever would)—they looked at each other, had one (1) conversation, and decided to make it Shinra's problem.

So they left. Defected. Just like that.

Except they weren't stupid, they were going to do something useful.

SOLDIER had been suspicious for a long time. Some of them were tired, some of them were sick and didn't know why, and some of them had spent too many years watching good men die, fighting Wutai, monsters and Shinra's own unchecked ambition. So when Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis stood before them, living proof that whatever was in their veins was changing them into something else, they listened.

And they followed. Not all, obviously. Angeal pulled Zack aside and told him, firmly, to stay put. Zack argued, because of course he did, but Angeal wouldn't budge. Zack wasn't ready to burn bridges. Not yet. Not ever, if Angeal had his way.

And so, the lines were drawn. (Sephiroth, for the record, had one hard rule: No clones, no copies, no Hojo-esque bullshit. If they were going to fight, it was going to be real).

At first, Shinra underestimated them. A few dozen SOLDIER defectors, even with Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis leading them, couldn't possibly stand against an entire mega corporation, right? Right? Wrong.

Shinra sent out waves of fighters and Turks. They cut through them. Shinra tried to use the media against them. Genesis countered with unsettlingly well-articulated emails to his unwavering fanclub.

Shinra tried to hunt them down. Sephiroth started hunting back.

They moved fast, striking at supply lines, freeing factory workers, taking down the worst of Scarlet's machines. But degradation still loomed. Genesis and Angeal were feeling it creeping in—the inevitable decay of their bodies, the slow disintegration into something inhuman.

Then Sephiroth, in a moment of absolutely reckless self-sacrifice (or devotion, Sephiroth would later argue), offered up his own cells. Unlike Hollander's garbage, they worked. No more degradation. No slow, agonizing descent into nothingness.

For the first time in a while, Genesis and Angeal were whole again. And so, freed from death's shadow, they settled down. Not permanently. Shinra was still trying to kill them, but they found a house. A quiet, tucked-away place in the country where they could breathe. The war wasn't over, but they could take breaks.

Until Zack showed up, SOLDIER First Class and all, to fight Shinra's battles.

Zack: You traitors won't get away with this! How could you abandon SOLDIER and everything we fight for!? Where's your honor? I'd never betray SOLDIER like this! You guys are evil!

*AGS are in the kitchen, cooking dinner, completely unfazed*

Angeal, wearing an apron: Yeah, yeah. Are you staying for dinner? I'm making extra lasagna, and for dessert, Genesis made apple pie.

Genesis: I'd love to hear more about your girlfriend, Aerith. Let me go grab some wine.

Sephiroth: If you want, you can help me set up this telescope so we can look at the stars after dinner.

Zack: Fuck SOLDIER, Fuck Shinra, Fuck President Shinra, fuck Rufus Shinra, fuck Heidegger, fuck Palmer, fuck Hojo, fuck the coffee machine in the breakroom that never works right, I quit. Pass me a plate.

[wonubby]

fell in luv - itoshi rin

CHAPTER 02: HOMEWORK SUCKS!

SYPNOSIS Rin Itoshi thought life was all about football—until Y/N L/N and their chaotic group of friends proved otherwise. Now, he’s stuck navigating late-night hangouts, dumb arguments, and way too much teasing—all while somehow being hopelessly in love. It’s a story of laughter, love, and Rin just trying (and failing) to keep his cool.

a/n: HI GUYS please ignore the "prankshit" watermark.. im on laptop so making these are pretty hard

written part after all the pics!

< prev masterlist next >

as the door to rin itoshi's room burst open, four teens stood frozen, mouths agape in shock.

there, in the dim light, was rin—shirtless—locked in a kiss with a fully clothed y/n. at the sudden intrusion, the love-struck pair jolted apart, scrambling in a flustered mess to compose themselves.

eita let out an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms. "and what did i fucking say, riya?" he muttered, clearly salty that no one had listened to him.

riya side-eyed the boy beside her. "okay, eita, congrats. you were right this one time and, for once, not thinking with your dick—no one cares." she turned to y/n. "you promised to help me with my homework, which is why we're here. get up."

without hesitation, riya shoved rin off y/n, earning herself a sharp glare from the irritated striker.

"i thought i told you we were busy," rin grumbled, clearly annoyed that their date had been so rudely interrupted.

y/n, ever the peacemaker, gave him a reassuring smile. "it's fine, rin. i really did promise to help her. once we're done, they'll leave, and we can pick up where we left off."

naomi scratched her neck, glancing awkwardly to the side. "about that... your mom insisted we stay over since it's pretty late. we tried to say no, but she wouldn't let up."

a pillow smacked her straight in the face.

"rin, what the fuck!" naomi screamed, ready to lunge at him if she wasn’t being held back.

"deserved," rin muttered.

eita, watching the chaos unfold, grinned from ear to ear. "this is more entertaining than a movie."

"yeah, and we're the ones stuck in the middle of it," riya shot back, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "thanks, rin."

naomi, now fuming, rubbed her cheek where the pillow had hit. "you guys are unbelievable."

"you were the one who knocked on my door," rin retorted, leaning back on the couch.

"right, and you couldn't just act normal for once?" naomi grumbled.

yukimiya kenyu, who had been quietly observing the drama from the corner, finally spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "this is why i don't do sleepovers. too much drama."

y/n rolled her eyes from where she was sitting, barely looking up. "yeah, because we all love being dragged into this shitshow," she muttered, taking a swig from her drink. "honestly, i just want to go to sleep."

riya shot her a glare but didn't respond.

"well, we're here now, might as well make it fun, right?" kenyu suggested with a grin, flopping down beside y/n.

y/n shot him a deadpan look. "fun? really? because this feels more like a disaster waiting to happen."

"you're such a buzzkill," eita laughed.

"i'm just being honest," y/n shrugged, clearly uninterested in the idea of any fun.

"so... not even a little fun?" naomi pushed, trying to lighten the mood.

y/n raised an eyebrow. "fun for you guys, maybe."

"oh, come on, y/n," eita whined, nudging her with his elbow. "you gotta admit, this is pretty hilarious."

"i'll admit that you are pretty annoying," y/n shot back, not missing a beat. "but hey, that's nothing new."

riya, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolled her eyes. "please don’t start with your crap, y/n. we already have enough chaos without you adding to it."

"chaos?" y/n snorted, raising her glass. "this is a disaster. i don’t know what you’re all on about."

"it's fun in its own way," yukimiya said, finally showing a hint of amusement. "no one's getting hurt. just... loudly inconvenienced."

rin, who had been watching the back-and-forth with mild annoyance, groaned. "i'm literally right here, and you're all treating this like some kind of sitcom."

"you're just mad 'cause we ruined your romantic evening," eita teased, flashing him a smirk. "shoulda locked the door, man."

"next time, maybe i will," rin muttered, sinking back into the couch.

y/n, still leaning back and sipping her drink, shot a look at riya. "so, homework? wanna get it over with so i can leave and pretend this nightmare never happened?"

riya nodded quickly, relief spreading across her face. "finally! thank you!"

the group had somehow made it through the night without any more major drama—though the tension still lingered in the air. the homework was finished (with plenty of y/n’s sarcastic commentary along the way), and now everyone was scattered around the room, occupying the floor or leaning against the walls.

y/n, sprawled out on rin's bed, shot a glance at him, who had finally relaxed. "well, that wasn’t so bad. you can go back to sulking now."

rin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

otoya, leaning against the wall, grinned. "i think we've survived the worst of it. unless rin decides to start throwing stuff again."

"i could. don’t tempt me," rin muttered, his eyes half-closed as he joined y/n on the bed.

naomi, sitting on the floor near the door, raised her head from her phone with a sigh. "so, is this how it’s gonna be now? just... awkward silence until someone explodes?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "because i’m already over this whole 'sleepover' vibe."

"you think we’re gonna explode? i think we’re already there," eita said, his voice dry as he kicked his feet up onto a nearby chair. "too many personalities in one room."

"you can always leave, naomi," yukimiya added lazily, glancing up from his phone, a bored look on his face. "not like you’re forced to stay."

naomi shot him a side-eye. "i tried to leave earlier, but someone’s mom insisted we stay over." she shot a look at rin, who only shrugged in response.

y/n let out a loud groan, slumping further into the bed. "this night is like a car crash that just keeps going. i can’t wait for it to end."

"tell me about it," naomi muttered, leaning back against the doorframe. "who knew spending time with you guys would be worse than studying for finals?"

rin sighed. "so this is how it’s gonna be, huh? a bunch of loud idiots trying to make something out of nothing." he shot a glance at y/n. "i mean, i’d prefer some peace too, but this isn’t really the vibe i was expecting."

"well, we’re here now, so suck it up," y/n shot back, not bothering to sit up.

naomi looked at rin, then at y/n, and shook her head. "you two are impossible. you know that, right?"

"impossible?" rin smirked. "you guys were the ones who walked in here uninvited. i wasn’t expecting anything but chaos."

"no kidding," eita chimed in, kicking back in the corner. "next time, let’s not follow y/n’s ‘invite,’ huh?"

yukimiya, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his voice bored but tinged with amusement. "honestly, i’m just waiting for someone to do something interesting. this is too much talking, not enough action."

otoya snickered. "you’re just waiting for a pillow fight, aren’t you?"

y/n snorted from the bed. "if anyone starts a pillow fight, i’m out. i’m not that desperate for entertainment."

"and there’s the real y/n," riya muttered with a roll of her eyes. "always a pain in the ass."

"thank you, i try," y/n replied sarcastically, finally propping herself up on one elbow.

rin gave her a smirk, clearly used to her attitude. "you really know how to kill the mood, huh?"

"someone’s got to do it," she muttered, smirking back at him. "besides, this whole ‘sleepover’ thing was never my idea of fun."

rin leaned closer, his voice softer, more affectionate. "but you’re stuck with me now."

y/n met his gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "guess i’ll survive," she replied, her tone a mix of sarcasm and something a little sweeter.

rin’s smirk softened into a real smile as he nudged her gently. "you say that now, but i think you’re secretly enjoying it."

y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as the room fell back into a quiet, comfortable lull. despite the chaos, this was somehow the most peaceful moment of the night.

taglist: @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @@yourlocaleffy

[formosusiniquis]

a particular kind of girl

Steve Harrington/Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins WC: 4669 | E | Tags/Themes: Genderfluid!Steve Harrington; Lingerie; Feminine Terminology used for Steve; Smut; Dom!Carol and Steve; Sub!Tommy AO3 a very special thank you to @itcanbepalped for being my smut guidance counselor and helping me get unstuck

Carol was particular.

It was a trait Tommy really liked in her. A trait she shared with the other member of their little trio. So clearly it wasn’t something that bothered him since he’s seeking it out. She keeps her planner filled out, starting at the end of the week and making disappointed little tongue clicks every time someone -- Tommy, it was usually Tommy -- forced her to have to change it. She planned her outfits out every weekend on the phone with Stevie, an activity he’d been party to once and promptly uninvited to. She was an everything in its place kind of girl, and he loved that.

It just made giving her gifts hard.

“No.”

Stevie snorts from the floor, doesn’t even have to look up from the magazine to know it’s funny how mercilessly Tommy just got shut down.

“Babe, what? It’s a gift, I thought you could wear it tonight.”

Carol smiles his favorite smile, small and a little mean. It makes him feel high, but in a sexy way. “I know what you thought was going to happen,” she says, “but I’m not wearing that. The yellow is going to make me look like my fucking liver is failing, the triangle cups are going to make my tits look small, and wearing a thong under my dress is like asking one of your neanderthal friends to flip my skirt.”

She tears it down effortlessly as Stevie hums along with each point from the floor, leaving him a little dizzy. The gift he’d been hoping to unwrap like a sexy present later that night held in his hand still like a kid’s handmade mother’s day gift: a sweet gesture but ultimately not worth the tissue paper it’d been wrapped in.

“Don’t be sad, baby, you just got confused.”

“Confused?” His head feels like it’s a size too big for his body. Like they’ve already started pre-gaming even though they hadn’t cause Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were still in the house, wouldn’t leave to catch their flight for another hour.

“Yeah, Tom, confused,” Stevie chimes in, always happy to pick up the thread of Carol’s teasing if she was the one to start it first.

Carol’s nails are long enough that he can feel them scrape along his arm with the soft pads of her fingers. Goosebumps rise in their wakes, “It’s okay to admit you really bought this for Stevie.”

He tries to deny it, “But Steve’s-”

“A girl sometimes, it’s so hard to predict.”

Stevie was particular too. Never a hair out of place. He… She would always make sure she showed up at any event perfectly pressed and ready. Even if it was a basketball game with the guys, her shoes would be clean, laces white as the tube socks pulled up her calves. She would slip away from him and Carol sometimes in the hall, he always thought she just got tired of watching them make out, but sometimes she would come back with her hair parted different and shiny gloss on her lips. Hard to predict.

“Stevie would look glowy in that sunshine yellow,” Carol husks in his ear. “You’re just a little dense sometimes, aren’t you, baby? But you noticed how pretty Stevie’s looked this week, didn’t you?”

She sits up from the floor, lips glossy and eyes big in a way he can kind of tell now isn’t entirely natural. Maybe that special mascara stuff Carol uses before they can go out for hangover food because she can’t go out to the diner looking hungover.

“You think I’m pretty, Tommy?” Stevie asks.

He thinks he does, thinks he must. Cause he spends a lot of time looking at Stevie, at her hands and her legs and her ass.

“Yeah,” he feels breathless when he answers. Red in the face probably, the way Carol always teases him about getting when he’s hot for it and embarrassed about it.

“And it’ll be really fun,” Carol says, lips every few words as she taunts him, “at the end of the night when you get to see her tits for the first time in this pretty bra you bought her, won’t it? You’ll get to be the first boy in town to see her pretty chest.”

And he’s seen them in the locker room when they were pecs. But this is different, makes him feel nervous, palms sweaty like the first time he and Carol were going to do it.

“I don’t know Carrie, I’m not a slut. I don’t just give it out to anyone,” Stevie says, something bored on her face. A look she normally sends guys like Peterson, not Tommy. She’s supposed to like him.

“We’re different though, aren’t we Stevie,” Carol coos, sticky and fake.

“Yeah, you can see ‘em sure.”

“Little girl on girl like when I sleepover?” 

Carol with her pale hand on Stevie’s golden skin. Cupping each other’s tits, Carol's nipples were sensitive, Stevie is so good with her hands, big for a girl’s sure but dextrous. A thumb brushing over the nub even through Carol’s rosy bra -- and he’s an idiot, of course he bought this lingerie for Stevie, he knows that Carol only wears soft pinks that make her skin look dewy and flushed -- it would be enough to leave his girlfriend gasping and begging. Carrie straddling Stevie’s muscled thigh, Stevie rubbing up against Carrie’s hip, the two of them grinding -- scissoring -- against each other. Panting desperately into one another’s mouths the closer they get to release.

Would they let him watch, even if he wasn’t good enough to touch?

“Give Stevie her present, Tommy,” Carol orders.

“Stevie.” He thrusts his hand in her face, feeling less like a kid with his mom and more like one of the losers who always try to give the cheerleaders carnations at Valentine’s.

She smirks, lip pulling up at one corner, brows raised just enough to make clear that the fumbling was noticed. Stevie takes the gift from his hands, lifting herself up from the floor enough to leave lipgloss sticky kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Tommy,” she murmurs against the side of his face before disappearing into her ensuite to change with a sway of her hips.

“Why don’t you start being good right now,” Carol says, a hand rubbing up and down his thigh. “Why don’t you go downstairs and fix us both a drink. You know what we like.”

Stevie and Carol are particular.

Tommy spends most of the party trailing behind them or running to get something for them.

When he gets it right he gets rewarded. Carol kisses him rough and dirty, tongue slipping into his  mouth for a second before she takes her drink. Stevie, more careful by necessity, gropes him; grabs his ass, disguises it as a locker room smack, before coming in close to pass along her thanks.

But he gets it wrong more than he gets it right. And that’s even better.

“Tommy,” Carol says, the tone she’s used with him all night the same one she uses with her dog, talking to him like he’s something sweet but dumb. “I don’t drink keg beer, remember. Go back and get me a Coors from the cooler.”

“Didn’t you watch Miller spike this with that cheap ass vodka from the plastic bottle?” Stevie asks, “I’m not drinking that. There’s still some Absolut in the freezer, splash of that in some orange juice.”

Each insult, each dig as his intelligence and ability sinks him down even further into a high he didn’t even have to pay the Freak for. He’s floating, barely thinking, just something for Stevie and Carrie to make use of. 

When he’s done playing fetch, he’s a chair. Carol beckons him closer with a wave of her hand, pushing him down onto the sofa before wiggling down into his lap, worsening and hiding a problem that had been steadily growing with each barb and errand. An ache he could feel but hoped would be taken care of if he just kept being good. It’s just them for the first time since Stevie went to change. She’s across the room, taking John Peters for a ride, pretending like she doesn’t have a pool table in her own basement that she’s basically a pro with. He’s with it enough to tell that they’re getting to the part of the game where she convinces her opponent to put some money down, one leg hiked up onto the table nearly bent in half over top of it.

“Look at her.” The music is loud enough that Carol’s speaking voice, the sultry warmth of it, is covered. “Can you see the way Stevie’s showing off the pretty panties you got her.”

And he can. Bent over the side of the table, her shirt has come untucked from the back of her pants and visible over the top is the yellow strap of her thong.

“Think she’s showing off for you? Think she’s got her ass up in the air so you can see how much she loves that special set you picked out for her? Or do you think she’s hoping someone like Johnny will see it and actually show her a good time?”

“Care,” he’s whining now, desperate and hard underneath her.

“What? Do you want me to talk about what I think she’s going to let you do to her? How sweet you’ve been and what you’ve earned? She likes giving head so much it’s probably time someone returns the favor.

“You can suck her off, see how she fills out those panties.” 

It sounds like an order and it’s overwhelming in a thousand different ways. He rests his head against her back to help hide the way he moans.

“If you do a good job maybe you can even play with her tits while I ride you.”

He’s panting, rough and hot into the back of the blouse she’s wearing, “Carrie, I can’t. I can’t.”

She shifts in his lap again and the sharp dig of her fingernails in his cheek is the only thing that keeps him from blowing his load right there. He’s dragged into eye contact, staring deep into the blue ringed black of her eyes. She’s turned on too.

“At your limit, baby?” she coos, and it’s condescending but sincere. He knows all her inflections even when he’s higher than god and dumber than dirt. “Go get Stevie and we’ll go home. First night of spring break and we’ve already got that big house to ourselves.”

She slips out of his lap, with that last tease, sending him stumbling toward Stevie with a slap to the ass. Tommy stumbles forward, shuffles his feet forward to get to his other best girl. Brain clouding over everything except for his task and what’s going to happen when they get back to Stevie’s room.

There’s money at the edge of the table, and Peters is lining up a shot when Tommy makes it over. He feels drunk, probably looks it, and when he feels like a balloon whose tether is barely being held onto he thinks it’s fine that he lets himself slump into her side. “We’re ready to head out.”

A pile of crumpled bills sits on the edge of the table. Three striped balls sit in a crooked line and the eight ball is beside the corner pocket. Stevie starts to lean her cue against the table when Peters scoffs, “You always go running when you’re called, Harrington. We’re in the middle of the game, there’s money on the table.”

Stevie rolls her eyes, and the money that the guy could have had vanishes even if he doesn’t know it yet. “I usually listen when a girl tells me she’s almost finished,” Stevie says as she waves at Carol, the bitchy little finger wave they used to do in the high school hallway to acknowledge that something has held one of them up. “That’s why I get so many. Maybe it’s why you don’t.”

“You really going to admit to fucking Hagan’s girl right in front of him.”

“If that’s what you think you heard.” Stevie says with a dismissive flick of her hair. “It’s my turn, right? I’m getting bored.”

Peters gestures toward the table, an attitude problem that Tommy clocks through the syrupy slowness his brain has settled into. He pulls his attention closer to the surface of the thick molasses sweetness it’s settled into. Keeping one eye on the way Stevie swaggers to the table and another on the growing problem that is her opponent.

With a decisive stroke, she sinks the line of balls into the side pocket, each of them rolling in one after the other like well behaved school children. She locks eyes with Peters then, ruining the game but making it clear just what mistake he made, as she sends the 8 ball tumbling into the corner pocket.

“Good game, John Boy,” she says, not bothering to look at him as she grabs the pile of bills from the edge and thumbs through each one.

Stevie doesn’t usually take victory laps, but she does like to make people sit in the consequences of their stupid choices occasionally. Doing it now means she misses the way John Peters’ face storms over and the way he menaces toward her.

Tommy doesn’t. And with his higher brain function hidden somewhere deep in a closet. Put to sleep by the way Carol and Stevie have handled him all night. He doesn’t have a chance of stopping the dumber, primal parts of him from reaching forward grabbing the other guy’s arm in a tight fisted grip before he can do something stupid like try to hit Stevie. Violence isn’t his normal go-to. When his brain hasn’t been sanded down by sweet condescension he prefers breaking the tension with a shitty joke or two. But he likes the way he can feel the bones in John’s wrist grind together in his hold. “Don’t.”

“Call off your fucking guard dog, Harrington.” There’s a waver in the plea, a tiny bit of fear that makes him feel almost as good as the obvious pleasure on Stevie’s face.

“If you weren’t being a sore loser I wouldn’t need the guard,” she muses, but Tommy knows her tells. He doesn’t let go until he sees the flick of amusement kissing her smile, right before she says, “Down boy, heel.”

Still he gives one more threatening squeeze to John’s arms before he bares his teeth and lets go. It makes Stevie laugh, which is all Tommy cares about, and the sound of it makes Carol perk up from her spot on the sofa like one of those little prairie rats at the zoo.

Time to go.

Stevie is particular. Likes things neat, tidy, contained.

It means the bed he’s sitting on is actually made. The navy comforter, soft under his palms, is pulled up to the pillows. The sheets beneath probably pulled into hospital corners.

It means she folds each piece of clothing she pulls off Carol. He stares, hungry eyes flitting between the two of them, the milky and freckled skin of Carol’s back and the spread of Stevie’s hand against it. The rosy pink bra gets flicked open with a pinch of two fingers.

“Are you watching, Tom? There’s gonna be a quiz,” Stevie asks, bringing her opposite hand up to pinch a dusky nipple he can just make out in the side profile.

“You’re, ah, confusing the metaphor,” Carrie teases, back arching to put her closer to Stevie who rewards her, bending down to soothe that pinch with a talented mouth.

“Right,” Steve agrees, pulling her mouth away from Carol’s tits long enough to send him a predatory smile. “He’s our puppy.”

He’d be embarrassed by the noise that leaves his mouth if he was thinking much at all any more.

The girls share a look, giggling in a way that makes him feel small and dumb and fantastic.

“That’s a game to play some other time.”

“Feeling impatient, Stevie.”

“Like you aren’t?” She straightens up, sliding her hand up Carol’s thigh. Moving slowly so Tommy can track every inch of creamy skin disappearing and reappearing from under her olive-toned palm. So he can see how her fingers disappear beneath Carol’s pretty purple skirt.

“Wanna guess how wet she is, baby?”

“Please,” Tommy hears himself beg.

“God, Stevie, your fingers,”  Carol moans, louder than she’s ever been with him. Turning to catch his eyes from over her shoulder, barely able to hold them open.

“You’re still dressed, baby. You wouldn’t be able to do anything if we came over.” Steie says. Her fingers working in Carrie’s pussy just a vague movement he can barely make out from under the skirt.

“Maybe he’s waiting on you, Stevie. You’re still hiding his special present.” she manages to pant out.

And she is. Carol is half-dressed, tits bare with her skirt still on, one hand clinging to Stevie’s arm. Stevie is fully dressed, arousal evident as she stares down Tommy. Even though they’re in equal states, Tommy feels stripped naked.

Bare beneath Stevie’s knowing gaze.

“That must be it,” Stevie agrees. “Can you get me undressed, baby? Can you do it before I get Carrie off?”

Stevie has a challenge on her face that Tommy is familiar with. The kind they used to share at sleepovers right before a dare, a bet. He’s been trained by years of ‘betcha can’ts’ and triple dog dares.

He tumbles off the bed, mussing the covers in his haste to get to them. Carol is close, he knows, and even though the mess makes Stevie tutt disappointedly every second is one closer to losing.

Crouched on the floor, kneeling at their feet, Tommy can hear the sound of Stevie’s fingers inside Carol. The slick, wet sound of how turned on she is louder than the quick and heavy way she’s breathing. There’s a decision he has to make now, can see in the smug curl of Stevie's lip the choice will have to be all his, what half of his present does he reveal first?

There wasn’t actually any choice. Even as he’s nose to fly with Stevie, Tommy has his hands buried in her stupid shirt. Pushing it up and revealing the trail of hair that’s disappearing into her jeans, the hint of yellow sticking out above them that he hopes he’ll get to see later.

Tommy keeps pushing. Up, up to his toes, revealing more skin as Stevie’s shirt moves up to. Up over her head, off one arm.

It dangles, caught at the elbow of the arm still bringing Carol closer and closer to the edge. Any other time it would be funny, perfect, particular Stevie at any sort of odds. But Tommy's a bit distracted.

With the shirt gone his hands can move back down. Can flirt with the soft cotton on her chest, feel the way the flowers embroidered along the cups are rough against his palms as he cups and squeezes. He relishes in the more firm give of them, more muscled than Carol’s but just as much fun to hold.

Like she can sense him thinking that, shoulder to shoulder like they are Carol turns licking a line up his arm where skin is exposed. The warning he knows to expect before she’s biting down on his cloth covered shoulder. Stevie might have brought her to climax but he’s the tool she’s using to keep herself grounded. His body throbs at the thought, his shoulder where her teeth grind and elsewhere in the places where he’s hard and aching.

Carol lets go. Kisses the spot once, twice. Gasping against his arm, hot breath causing a chill down his spine now, as Stevie pulls out.

The shirt Tommy couldn’t remove slumps down to the floor. The crumpled pile erotic in an abstract way his lit professor would want him to explain. He might have even been able to, if Stevie didn’t bring two wet fingers up to his mouth. They tap his bottom lip, sliding in any way before he can open, rough against his palate and pushing until they can curl back to flirt with his throat. Carol is heavy on his tongue, heavy against his side.

“If you don’t tell him what to do he’ll just grope you all night.” Carrie tells Stevie. She gives him a light shove just too make sure the dig lands.

“It's only the second pair he's ever touched, I thought I'd let him have a little fun.”

The bed squeaks as Carrie throws herself down on it. “Suit yourself,” she says, “I can’t come from his hands fumbling around like he’s trying to open his locker again, but you’ve always been special.”

He’s found her nipple, rubs the bud of it. 

“Oh, left 32, right 18, left 67,” Stevie moans fake as that porno he slipped out of the back room at Family Video. Just like that video, he still gets hot.

“Come over here,” Carol purrs, sweet as she can be. She pats the bed beside her and Stevie shrugs off his hands to crawl up into the bed beside her. A hand cupped around one ear, a familiar sight, his two girls whispering, giggling.

“You really think he’s earned it,” Stevie asks, loud enough for Tommy to hear on purpose. Her eyes flick up and down him as a coy smile plays on her lips.

“No,” Carol says, a matching smile on hers. “But if you let him I’ll play with you so you can actually get off.”

“Can’t find your clit so you think he won’t be able to find mine.” Tommy flashes hot under the collar of the shirt he’s still wearing. Stevie’s grin has tipped over from coy to wry, she’s the cat playing with his canary.

“Maybe I wanna have a little fun with you too, babe.”

They're beautiful together, curled into each other on their sides. Only showing off the softest angles of themselves. Soft breasts and the curve of Stevie's gorgeous ass. He would be fine, standing here like a limp dick just watching them play and tease one another. Trading spit that still tastes like house party screwdrivers and shitty beer while they use their hands and bodys to rub one another off. Panting, laughing, squealing, half of the fun in the fact that he only gets to watch and they get to decide what he sees.

He'd be fine with that. His girls are particular and they always know what's going to please them.

Stevie rolls over, shimmies and rolls her hips to work those too tight jeans down. Finally showing the way she's hot and wet and straining against the soft yellow thong he gave her. Carol is already playing with her, running two fingers around the tip.

“Try to get your pants off, Stud.” Stevie orders, “I'll let you get up close with my boobies.”

Carrie's free hand reaches over, pinches Stevie’s nipple hard enough to make her writhe. Tommy struggles harder with the zip on his pants, desperate to get them off.

“That word is disgusting,” Carol says with a sniff. Still playing with Stevie’s clit the same way Tommy has watched her play with herself, two fingers rubbing in slow circles before she drags her thumb down in a firm line. 

“Prude, you and Robin should play together.”

There's something small and devious in her smile that he decides is for Stevie to handle. He is too worried about the way the band of the bra he bought is being folded, curled carefully he assumes for him.

“If he were smarter I'd say he planned this,” Carrie says. “No underwire, that silky band.”

“We'll see how it holds up, you know I hate when people ruin my things when they're careless.”

His shirt is still on. Dick out and leaking, he'll definitely stain it. It's more important to get on the bed, to crawl up the side Carol isn't on. “Throw your leg over. Try not to act like such a virgin.” Stevie demands.

He does, straddles her chest, tucking his knees into the hollow beneath her arms. She grins when he's settled into place, reaches up to yank his shirt off before bringing both hands up to push her tits together.

He thursts once, by accident, dick slipping under the band of the bra gripped by it and the shallow channel she’s made for him. Tommy looks, locks eyes with her feeling like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Instead of chatizing, instead of lecture, she raises a brow and it says ‘just this once he can have dessert before dinner.’ Or maybe it says ‘good dog’ or ‘A+’, he’s lost track of what’s he’s supposed to be other than theirs and listening.

The hand on Carol’s side of the bed lets go. Moved down until it’s making her whine, touching her sensitive places, Stevie getting her fingers wet again too soon after the first time. And as Carol bites at Stevie’s neck and shoulder with a renewed focus on getting the other woman to cum, Stevie is getting him wet.

She takes that slick she’s gathered from Carol, mixes it with the pre he’s been leaking all night.

When she’s done she presses her tits back togheter. Tommy is still looking her in the eyes, stunned, when she spits.

It drips down the head, pools in the concave of her chest. “Be a good boy and get yourself off.”

Tommy doesn’t need to be told twice. Is barely given permission before he’s rutting against her chest. Chasing that friction, the release he’s been craving for hours. He’s been on edge for longer than he’s ever been before, he feels like some sad virgin. A two-pump chump. Like a stiff breeze could do him in. And right as he’s reaching the precipice, Stevie grabs ahold of him and pushes once again.

Tongue out, she catches him on the upward thrust. Swirls that pink, pink tongue around the head.

And he’s done for. 

He cums hard. Catching Stevie's mouth, her chin, dripping down her chest. A pearl necklace that touches the edges of those yellow, triangle cups.

Hard enough that he isn't sure he's not just dreaming of how good she looks. Cause he's pretty sure once he finally cums he blacks out.

Sometime, he’s not even sure how much later, he realizes that Stevie and Carol are talking. Tommy has been manuvered into the middle. Flat on his back, Carol is sitting high on the bed, propped up by pillows and running her fingers through his hair; her nails scratch at his scalp every few passes. Stevie is tucked in tight to his side, nose buried into his chest, head pillowed on his arm.

“All I'm saying is I thought she was hot when she had that awful perm junior year.’

“You can't call dibs on a person, that's feminism.” Stevie murmurs back, answer slow and half slurred with sleep.

“She’s your best friend. Convince her when you go pick her up from campus tomorrow.”

Stevie snorts, an ugly, ungraceful sound that usually means she's thought of something she isn't going to share. “What's in it for me?”

They both know he's awake again, they know each other too well for the girls not to. But if he wasn't sure, Carol sinking her fingers in his hair and tugging, pulling him up and baring his neck for Stevie would cinch it for him.

“I'll let you play with the puppy,” she says. “You can have him all to yourself.”

“Yeah, okay, deal.” Stevie’s smile spreads slow across her face, he can feel it against the thin skin of his ribs.

A shiver runs down his spine, fear, arousal, anticipation. He can only imagine the plans Stevie must be dreaming up for just the two of them. She is, after all, very particular.

[crimsonxe]

At this point they need to make a good will bridge to those that they stabbed in the back (and idgaf if you, no this isn't just from this post its from looking at your entire set of Pricefield posts hoping to get context to not be pissed off; but here we are). Especially with Michel of Dontnod aka the true canon makers in regards to Max and Chloe having stated that Pricefield would never break up; thus bringing Chloe back going to re-aligning the DE AU branch with the main canon.

"unforeseen reason", dumbass its called a connection, chemistry, and having gone through shit that fire-forges a bond. Also fuck off with this "losing Chloe leads to growth beyond the past"; reconnecting with Chloe can just as fucking easily deliver ACCEPTING the past, dealing with & healing from her trauma, and finally finding herself in the position of being ready to step forward WITH Chloe. It would be a matter of ACCEPTANCE & HEALING to move forward with the one that's always had her fucking back. The notion that she should just drop Chloe and "move on" is utterly fucking disgusting and very damn much biased, but I'll get to that. You clearly like Decknine don't have a damn clue about the characters, which is rich since in other posts of yours you try to frame Pricefielders as the ones wrong about them. Probably even defend the character assassination done to both Max and Chloe in DE. Hell your bitch ass just nonchalantly saying to kick a 10+ years old fucking iconic LGBT+ ship that has been said would NEVER break up by the true canon makers; that went through hell for each other including Max literally breaking time itself for Chloe; that has unmatched chemistry to the side says plenty about your very biased view.

No, its very much bias and if anything having Chloe there amps the potential storyline due to her & Chloe's relationship in this Decknine AU branch. Having Safi pulling on strings between Chloe and Max, that forces them to reconnect = great "villain" styling. While Safi is definitely better than Amanda (she at least has some damn sharp edge to her), she is NOTHING in comparison to Chloe.

Oh so your dumbass is fine with her being attached at the hip to Amanda/Vinh (the chemistry-less lipstick lesbian and the Nathan Prescott cleaned up preppy asshat); or Safi the seeming villain that at least does have some chemistry with Max just utterly lacking against Chloe. I also find it fucking hilarious how you literally throw open the door to all 3 of them, but won't offer a 4th option. But clearly your ass isn't biased, right?

This is pulling a later post into this which has to do how Pricefielders only focus on Chloe and take issue with DE cause of no Chloe vs. BtS that has her w/ Rachel. As someone that very much enjoys BtS, ships AmberPrice, Pricefield, and Amberpricefield (which the LiS multiverse thankfully allows all to exist) I can say that DE character assassinates the fuck out of Max and Chloe. I can also say that you're a fucking moron to think that LiS1 doesn't revolve around Pricefield and instead is about "violence against women"; that's an element within but isn't at the core of the damn game. I can say that Amanda (lipstick fucking lesbian) and Vinh (fucking Nathan cleaned up ass) are utterly fucking lacking, which makes the forced character assassination done to open the door for them that much fucking worse. Chloe wouldn't up and leave Max, because as of the halfway point of LiS Max had entered her walls and that locks her in, she also wouldn't make fucking threesome comments about a rando or other guy; Max wouldn't just give up on her relationship with Chloe, wouldn't be thirsting after every person, sure af wouldn't even in her journal use Rachel as a barb against Chloe, wouldn't be into a Nathan Prescott type, and several other details (punching Alderman, siding with Safi). That's not even going into outside of them details that DE utterly fucked up. Personally I'd want them to reveal that DE is just an AU branch within the multiverse by having its Max run across the actual main canon branch that has GREEN-haired Chloe and her Max living together happily as DontNod set up for Bae route people in LiS2; while also repairing her own relationship with her Chloe leading to a choice in the end. Unlike you I'd even say that in that choice there'd be 5 options: Vinh, Amanda, Safi, Chloe, and alone.

Clearly your ass is in the minority camp of things, especially considering the disdain towards DE that goes beyond just Pricefield. Hopefully the shake up in regards to the creative team brings in people that actually know the characters to try to fix the garbage fire that DE is currently. I'd beg them to bring in Emma Vieceli that handled the comics, which did everything DE attempted to do BETTER and before it; including respecting DontNod and their damn canon.

this is probably going to be EXTREMELY controversial so i dont expect ANYONE to agree (please dont hate me 🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️) but i REALLY DONT WNAT CHLOE BACK IN DE2. I HAVE REASONS!!!!!!!!

1. i think that it'll be viewed as a cash grab and like pricefield / chloe fans r never happy sooooo

2. if chloe and max were to get back together for some unforeseen reason i think that woukd ruin max's potential growth in de2 in my opinion. like i PERSONALLY think that her 'losing' chloe should help her move on from the past and should be portrayed as something that can help her move forward instead of dwelling on what could have been (as taylor swift once said, everything you lose is a step you take 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️)

3. i think she'd be so out of place and id rather have de2 focus on max and safi's relationship and this highkey sounds lkke bias because of my fixation but i PROMISE YOU its not.. mostly...

4. i think that max should grow by herself i really dont think she needs to be attached to chloe by the fucking hip.. like i would be so fucking ecstatic if you got to be with amanda/vinh/safi at the end of de2 but i think the most realistic ending would be for her to be by herself, not FOREVER, but for a good amount of time for her to be secure with being by herself because i personally think max is extremely codependent with chloe.. if .. that makes sense

[synchlora]

something to be said abt a foster pleading for anyone to adopt their extremely sweet and playful disabled tabby cat for over a year with absolute Crickets in response vs us making one post at 8pm with a frankly very poorly taken photo of a cute no-personality fluffy white kitten we have (who's not even been here 3 days!) and we have 45 comments within the hour and three of our adoption people with their phones blowing up

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🎵Now I know ya’ll be lovin’ this shit right here. L. I. M. P. Bizkit is right here🎵