#bro don’t look too hard at that… ‘chair’

[katiascraft]

𐙚⋆°.MODALES | FC43

[MANNERS | FC43]

⤷ franco colapinto x singer!reader x lando norris.

summary: You had a brief yet beautifully intense romance with F1 driver Franco Colapinto a few years ago when he was driving for F3. When he decided to end your relationship, you didn’t expect he would move on that quickly.

Warnings: I think angst. Not a happy ending but another happy ending (?) and strong language I guess. Cheating. Dialogues in Spanish mostly. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: 200 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION!! THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!! this was inspired on the EP “modales” by Yami Safdie which I recommend you check it out!! Also I’ll be using her for the posts. First time mixing smau and written stuff so yeah. Hope you like it 💌 don’t forget to like, comment, reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

f1gossipofficial just made a post

liked by @/user1, @/user2, @/landonorris, and others.

f1gossipofficial: breaking news ‼️ a source close to franco colapinto confirmed that @/y/nusername singer from Argentina it’s her ex and she just dropped an EP full of tea! 👀 apparently according to the song’s Franco dumped her for her new girlfriend @Franconewgirl and stated that franco isn’t as good as he seems! Let the tea be spilled everyone!

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↳ user123: @y/nusername TE EXPUSIERON BB [they exposed you bb]

↳ user1: OMG

↳ landnorizz1: why is our boy here ????????

↳ franmylove: oh no not this girl again pls leave him alone already!!!

↳ user4: she cute tho

↳ usar89: WHAY DOES SHE LOOKS EXACYLY LIKE FRANCO’s ACTUAL GF

↳ user20: girl I was about to mention it

↳ marylovesy/n: no puedo creer que franco la dejó después de que estuvo para el cuando mas lo necesitaba!!! [can’t believe franco dumped her when she was there for him when he needed it the most]

↳ landonorris: I guess I gotta take this to the group chat

↳ landonorris: she is so pretty

↳ user1: LANDO WTF

↳ usar444: land no rizz BRO WHAT

──── ──── ──── ──── ──── ────

💋ྀིྀི Track 1 - buen provecho.mp3

back to march 2023.

“Amor, perdón, ya sé, esto es una mierda. Pero realmente necesito enfocarme.. No es por vos, es por mi. Obvio que te amo y siendote sincero te voy a amar toda la vida, pero necesito enfocarme 100% en esto y/n” (love, I'm sorry, i know, this is a shitty situation. But I really need to focus. It's not about you,it's about me. Obviously I love you and to be honest I'll love you forever, but I really need to focus 100% on this y/n) you were already sobbing on the kitchen chair of his small apartment in madrid. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't breaking up with you over his career like you didn't have yours. Like all the sacrifices and support were with absolute shit. Franco was crying too but less emotional than you. He was colder, controlled. You were all over the place. You had to stand up. 

“Franco, qué pasa con todo lo que construimos? Todo lo que sacrificamos por el otro. Te apoye todos estos años para que? Se que las relaciones a distancia son difíciles pero con vos nunca lo fue. Franco por dios, te amo, te amo con todo lo que soy. Por favor, no me dejes” (franco, what about what we built here? All of the sacrifices we made. I supported you all of these years for what? I know distance relationships are hard but with you it wasn't. Franco, for god's sake, I love you. I love you with everything I am. Please, don't leave me) when he heard you mouthing the last sentences something inside him broke in a million pieces. He felt like a monster. He brushed his hair with one hand, anxious. He couldn't look at you after what you said. He felt like the worst human alive but his decision was already made. There was no coming back from it. It`s he`s dream. “Por el amor de dios, franco, decime algo”(please, franco say something) you expressed desperate. It was real and now you were in another country, alone, with nobody to talk to, to go to. All of that was him but even if he was sitting across the table from you, he was gone. So far gone, the room turned cold.  “No lo puedo creer.”(i can't believe it) you were speechless, empty. You had to sit again and that's when he finally looked at you. 

“y/n perdon. Pero es lo que necesito. espero que lo puedas entender”(y/n im sorry. But I really need to focus. I Hope you can understand) he expresado. You shook your head ironically dry laughing.he had the guts to act like this despite it all.  

“¿Sabes qué es lo más triste franco? Pensé que ibas a tener los huevos para decirme que me cagaste en la cara”(you know what 's the saddest part of this franco? I thought you would have the balls to tell me you cheated to my face) you dropped what you knew leaving him in shock. Exposed. Your anger intensified. “Obviamente lo sé hace 2 semanas. Quería que me lo digas porque vos te mandaste la cagada. Y aun así me pones una excusa de mierda y tenes la cara para decirme te amo.te cagaste en mi, en mi amor, en mi tiempo,en mi autoestima. Te cagaste en todo franco. No te voy a decir quien me dijo porque no importa. Ojala que te vaya bien y seas feliz con ella o con quien eras que no sea yo obviamente. Pero también espero que te enamores de alguien de verdad y te haga lo mismo solo para que sientas lo que siento y te des cuenta tarde o temprano lo que rompiste y nunca más vas a volver a recuperar” (i know it since 2 weeks ago. I wanted you to tell me you fucked up. But you decided to lie about it with an absurd excuse and you actually have the guts to say that you love me. You fucked me up and my selfsteam. You didn't care at all. I'm not gonna tell you who told me. It doesn't matter. But i hope you have a good life and be happy with her whatever bitch that isn't me clearly. But I also hope that you fall in love with someone and they do the same to you just to know how this feels and realize what you broke because there's not coming back from this) you  just had to take it off your chest. You were destroyed inside. Of course you still wanted to be oblivious and stay with him like nothing happened. But that was impossible to do. It was your second day here. He didn't even mention he wanted to talk. He was playing fool.   

💋ྀིྀི Track 2 - por favor.mp3

back to june 2023.

You and your bff were having a sleepover at your house. You were lying in bed just chatting about anything and everything. 

“Amiga viste esto? Pendejo del orto como le da la cara?” (girl, did you see this? That motherfucker. The audacity he has.) she handed you her phone to look at it by yourself. You see an instagram post. She looked so similar to you you got really confused for a moment. Then you realized it was franc and his new girlfriend. I think your jaw dropped to the floor. How could they? How could HE? You rolled your eyes. It still hurts. But you wanted to play it cool. its been only 3 months like did he even love you for real? You felt gross. You felt stupid. How could you believe him? That fucking smile. His fucking humor. His fucking fingers inside you that made you feel things noone did before. Ugh you hated him. You really hated him.

💋ྀིྀི Track 3 - gracias.mp3

Back to september 2023

franconewgirl made a post

liked by @/francolapinto, @/user2, @/alexalbon and others.

franconewgirl: sigan mirando y hablando que el novio más perfecto lo tengo yo 🩵 te amo fran [keep watching and talking. The most perfect boyfriend it’s still mine. I love you fran]

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↳ francolapinto: te amo princesa 🩵 [I love you princess]

↳ user23: PARENTS

↳ y/nandfran: 🙄

↳ user56: TELL HER TELL HER SCREAM IT GIRL

↳ user1: can’t believe he left y/n still

↳ yourbff: tiraba palo 🤣 [oh she’s throwing indirects]

↳ francolapinto: ?????

↳ yourbff: 🙄

↳ y/nusername: 💀

comments have been disabled

💋ྀིྀི Track 4 - permiso.mp3

Move forward to september 2024 → Monza GP

The Italian breeze of summer made you feel so happy to be here. Not so much the fact you were in the same place with Franco and his girlfriend. But red bull invited you and you loved racing so much that you couldnt say no. plus, your friend kimi and ollie that you knew because they used to race along franco back when the two of you were together. 

You were so thrilled you met Max Verstappen and that he was so kind and actually had a genuine conversation with you. He was nothing like how the media wanted to portray him. He also introduced you to Lando Norris, another driver. He looked really handsome and was really welcoming as well. You found yourself flirting with him for a bit. He said he had a friend from Argentina and that if you were free you could go and drink mate together after the race. You couldn't deny you felt attracted to him. He was handsome. Of course you gave him your instagram and started following each other. 

A few hours later Charles Leclerc won the race and it was fenomenal to witness. He won the Ferrari home race. The tifosis went wild. Really emotional. It was his first home win. You watched the podium in a smile from the red bull hospitality building drinking a red bull. 

After a few minutes, you got ready to go to your hotel to rest for the rest of the day but Max stopped you. 

“Hey, y/n, there's a party tonight. You are invited if you want to come. Lando will send you the address” he said walking towards you. You smiled pleased and flustered. He was so beautiful in person. 

“That sounds fun, sure” you said with your foreign accent pretty obvious just like franco’s and he smiled widely. 

“Perfect. See you tonight!” he said after giving you a quick hug and walking away. 

(...)

You were laughing a little tipsy. Lando was by your side almost the whole night so far. He was really fun to be around and Carlos came to the rescue so you could talk to someone in your native language. Sometimes it's tiring to think and translate what you will say 24/7. 

After a while you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Little did you know, Franco was gonna stop you before getting into it anyway. You looked at him surprised. His perfume all over you again leaving you kind of confused. 

“Podes dejar de hablar tanto con él por favor?” (can you stop talking to him please?) he said clearly drunk but grabbing your arm gently tight. You frowen and shook you heard before setting free from his grip.

“Hola fran, todo bien? Si todo bien. Que bueno che. No soy mas tu novia asi que no vengas a hablarme y decirme que hacer. Gracias, chau” (hi fran, wassup? Yeah, all good. Great. I'm not your girlfriend anymore so don't come around to talk and tell me what to do. Thanks. Goodbye) you said sarcastically and went straight into the bathroom already annoyed by his attitude. It was being a great night but he has to come around and fuck it up. 

(...) 

Your moans were all over the place. His hands are right on your waist and his movement consistently gets in and out of you. 

“Sos tan linda, y/n” (you're so beautiful, y/n) he said under his breath.

How did you end up here? Again in his arms making you see the stars. Getting you drunk on his perfume. Grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. Him grabbing your waist and twisting you however he likes. Just like he always did. 

A part of you was crying behind your face, smiling in pleasure, getting loud in moans. You wanted him forever. Whether You like it or not, he was the love of your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he does by just looking at you. You were angry at yourself. He has a girlfriend and here you are. You are not supposed to be anyone’s slut. The pleasure was intense, reaching your high, hiding your face in his neck, squeezing his shoulders. 

where was his girlfriend?

What have you done? Fucking alcohol and feelings and shit.

💋ྀིྀི Track 5 - perdón.mp3

Fast forward to the next morning

“No franco, esto es un horror. Es horrible lo que hicimos. Me voy” (franco this is horrible. It's horrible what we did. I'm leaving right away) you said feeling terrible. Awful. A knot in your stomach. You got dressed so quickly. 

“Nono por favor y/en espera. Estoy dispuesto a dejarla. Por favor, te extraño muchísimo. Nadie me hizo sentir como vos y nadie lo hará. Lo sé. Por favor, no me dejes” (please y/n wait. I will leave her. Please, I miss you like crazy. On one made me feel the way you did and no one will. I'm sure. Please, don't leave me) he said. How fast the nights change, right? One day you are begging him to stay, and the next he is begging you to stay. You turned around to look at him. 

“Bueno es lo que te mereces después de lo que hiciste. No podemos estar juntos franco. Te acordaste tarde de que me amabas. Yo ya no te amo. Y esta noche fue un error. No me busques mas.no quiero saber mas nada de vos” (well that's what you deserve for doing what you did to me. We can't be Franco together franco. You remembered you love me too late. I don't love you anymore. This was a mistake. Don't look for me. I don't wanna know about you anymore.) your words would have cut his skin if they could. Torn him into millions of pieces. His heart sank. 

You grabbed all of your stuff. You were scared the girl was coming any minute. You just didn't want to deal with it. This shouldn't have happened.

💋ྀིྀི Track 6 - de nada.mp3

move forward to present day

f1gossipoffcial made a post

Liked by @user567, @user1, @user34, @user890 and others.

f1gossipofficial: the secret it’s out! @/y/nusername Argentinian singer and @/landonorris mclaren driver been spotted together getting cozy in Monaco!

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↳ user1: OMG OMG OMG OMG I LOVE THEM

↳ yourbff: 🤭🤭🤭

↳ y/nusername: 😳

↳ user45: la princesa de argentinaaa 🩵

↳ user123: I don’t like herrrrr 🤢

↳ landonorizz: Lando has a terrible taste on women tbh

↳ y/nstan: feliz si ella está feliz 💌 [happy if she’s happy]

↳ user12: omg she confirmed it !!!!!

↳ user90: WHAT I CHOKED

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y/nusername made a post

liked by @/landonorris, @/charlesleclerc, @/francolapinto and others.

y/nusername: oops! Nos descubrieron! Seguí hablando de mi. Gracias a mi tenes lo que tenes, mejor disfrútalo 🩵 yo estoy disfrutando la mía y nunca fui más feliz. Te amo @/landonorris gracias por amarme como soy 💌 [keep talking about me. You should thank me for what you have now. You should better enjoy it. I’m enjoying mine and I’ve never been more happy in my life. I love you lando, thank you for loving me just the way I am]

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↳ landonorris: te amo mi bonita 🩵 you make me the happiest. Thank you for being so wonderful and be so you.

↳ y/nusername: omg te amo te amo te amo infinito 🩵

↳ landonorris: te amo infinito 🩵

↳ charlesleclerc: congratulations lovebirds! A pleasure meeting you @/y/nusername

↳ y/nusername: omg thank you prince 💌

↳ user778: ME ACABO DE MORIR SON HERMOSOS [omg I’m dead you are both so beautiful]

↳ yourbff: al fin alguien que te ama casi tanto como yo te amo 🩵😭 [finally someone that loves you almost as much as I do]

↳ y/nusername: 😭😭😭😭 te amo hermana

↳ user09: if he’s happy we’re all happy

↳ user123: I know franco choked when he saw this

——————————————————————————————

Thank you so much guys for 200 followers!! You are the best mwak mwak mwak 💌 first time I tried this format of story so I hope it’s good!! I dont know if it makes sense tho but i tried!!

[guppygiggles]

wip 💙

[toxicanonymity]

stuffing.

5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Fic recs at the bottom. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race.  He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up. 

“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”

Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.” 

“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.” 

“Why can’t he do it?”

Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye. 

Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away. 

-

It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together. 

Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy.  You're still figuring out how that works.  Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together.  But what about when you're alone? 

Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?

*******

Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire. 

“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot. 

Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed. 

Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.” 

“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot. 

Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat.  “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.”  Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh. 

Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head.  “Close your legs, darlin'.” 

Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”

But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy.  For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer. 

With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs. 

Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm.  When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”  

Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.

Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.”  You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes. 

—

Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”

“Felt good, didn't it?” 

You gave a small nod. 

“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that. 

You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place. 

“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside. 

Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you.  You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again.  Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed. 

**********

Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink.   Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.

Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles. 

Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away. 

—

Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts. 

“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater. 

Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.

Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles. 

“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub. 

“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”  

“I wasn't.”

“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”

You swallow and look down.

He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”

“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”

“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?” 

You barely shake your head, eyes still closed. 

Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?” 

You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.  

He smiles apologetically.  “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed.  As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.  

He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you. 

You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard. 

“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. 

He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax.  The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together. 

“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass.  Your legs involuntarily part.  He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more.  His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube. 

“Good girl.”  The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture.  He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile.  He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him. 

He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks. 

You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line.  “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.” 

—-

You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece.  The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches  under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?” 

He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh. 

You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue,  “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .” 

“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .”  He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.”  His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.” 

His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters. 

“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker. 

A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms. 

You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek.  As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.

You nod. 

“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.” 

Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips.  He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper. 

—---

You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home.  You feel more at ease with the two of them.  Your mind drifts to Tommy.  At this rate, you wish he would stay.  You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open. 

“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight. 

You ask, “What are you doing?”

“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”

Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds,  “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.” 

You feel your body warming and opening up for him. 

“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers. 

Your heart pounds. 

“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds. 

“He did?”

“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him? 

You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast.  Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.  

He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.  

“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear. 

“Good girl,” he whispers.  You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?” 

He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you.  “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.” 

After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his.  Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.  

Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair.  Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are. 

“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole. 

“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter. 

“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you.  “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out.  “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him.  “We’re right here, baby.” 

He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.” 

With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple.  You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more. 

“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips. 

His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”

“Please,” you whimper again. 

“What's your daddy gonna think?” 

Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”

“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”

He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust. 

“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.”  You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock. 

He asks, “Little harder?” 

“Mm,” you nod. 

He slams into you and you moan. 

“Yeah, that's our girl.” 

Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you. 

The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door.  “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.

As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan.   You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up. 

—---

As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark. 

“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.

Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.  

“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”

“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts. 

“Really?”

“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. .  . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”

“Yeah,” you whimper. 

“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers. 

“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you. 

You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan. 

“Want yours,” you whimper.

“Shhh. You're gonna get it.” 

You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm.  When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock. 

“Daddy, please,” you whine. 

Joel sits down on the bed.  Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you.  You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.  

Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you.  Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”

“Not yet,” Tommy answers. 

Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back  and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you.  “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit. 

Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?” 

You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.” 

“You’re takin’ it so good, baby.  Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?” 

You nod.  Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way. 

You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching. 

“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm. 

“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him.  “oh—oh, God, baby.” 

As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.

Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy. 

Joel cups your cheek  and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?” 

You spasm with an aftershock.  “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger. 

“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.

You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing.  “You aren't worried to stretch me?”

“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock. 

“I dunno if I can,” you whine.  

“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.  

“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.  

Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close. 

Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides. 

“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in. 

It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further. 

“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”

“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”

“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up.  The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.  

“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?” 

You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more. 

“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch. 

You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper. 

Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”

Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?” 

You nod. 

“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.

“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back. 

Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock. 

“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover. 

“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak. 

You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”

“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face. 

“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.” 

He cradles your head and  it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them. 

“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss.  He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over.  You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's. 

—--

You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly.  Tommy falls asleep.  Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.” 

“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock. 

When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep. 

—-

sequel here

-

-

Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.

Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.

I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print

And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey

-----

FIC RECS

If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are

I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated

Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,

If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.

More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.

If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.

More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.

Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (we're getting there, dw), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), it's time to meet the bakusquad!, mentions of alcohol, a tiny ass mention of smth nsfw

words. 4.3k (this is getting out of hand. this was way too fun to write, tho!)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7, part 8, part 9

You check your reflection through your phone’s front camera for the umpteenth time, lurching a bit forward and almost smashing your face with the device when the bus you’re riding drives over a bump.

With a sigh, you glance through the window to your right, spotting the familiar landmark that Kirishima mentioned in passing a few days ago.

A few days ago when he waltzed into the conference room in the middle of your heated conversation with Bakugou.

Right when he dropped that nonsensical one-liner, Bakugou was on him in a flash, shoving your other boss so hard that the man stumbled a few steps back in surprise. You watched as they had what seemed to be a wordless exchange, before all the blood appeared to drain from Kirishima’s face, leaving him so pale that you thought the redhead was about to pass out any second.

“Freaking finally—” you recall Kirishima repeating, voice wobbly, “Y-you finally have a g-girlfriend!”

Bakugou didn’t seem too pleased at the shade, encasing his co-founder in a headlock, eventually releasing him after the latter cried out his pleas and apology.

After the man managed to catch his breath, he came up with the suggestion that you hang out with the rest of their friend group.

“It’ll be fun!” he said. “We’d love to get to know you.”

“Tch.” Bakugou merely replied, seemingly not too keen on the idea.

“I don’t know…”

“I can ask PR about it,” Kirishima ignored you, “I bet you being seen with us is good for your image!”

Which leads you to the present moment.

The mechanical voice announces your arrival at the nearest station to the trendy, new, upscale restaurant that Mina specifically picked out for today’s get-together. Kirishima assured you when you, again, showed reluctance when he ran down the details yesterday, saying Kaminari and Sero vouched for it, that it had a built-in arcade or something.

Deep in your thoughts and on autopilot, you hop off the bus and begin your slow but steady trek toward the venue. By the time you reach it, it’s already 6:37 PM, a bit later than your agreed-upon meeting time.

Pushing the glass doors open, you enter the space and swiftly scan the area. Bakugou’s friends, who you just remember also happened to be top pro-heroes, are already packed in a booth near the back of the restaurant. As you walk towards them, you see that Mina, Kirishima, and Sero are seated beside each other while Kaminari is looking a bit lonely on the extra chair at the tail-end of the table. You’re guessing the empty seats in front of the aforementioned three have been reserved for their close friend and you, the fake girlfriend.

Right, you say to yourself. Time to put on a show.

Kirishima is the first one to spot you, and you can’t help the squeeze your heart makes as he visibly brightens up when he does. “Bro, over here!”

At that, you plaster on the friendliest smile you can muster and trudge towards where they are.

“Sorry I’m late, you guys,” you say as you slide into your seat, “I had to call an emergency meeting at work. I came as fast as I could…”

You look at the three, (not really) new faces (because you see them on TV all the time), suddenly feeling nervous and singled out.

Desperate for something familiar to have near you, you ask: “Uh, where’s Bakugou?”

The moment you stutter the question out, you find yourself immediately wanting to take it back, because the air in the room suddenly changes. Sero smirks, Kaminari guffaws, and a devilish grin exponentially grows on Mina’s face.

“Awww, it hasn’t even been ten seconds since you got here and you’re already looking for your mans!” Mina winks at you, “He’s just in the restroom.”

“Bro, it’s about goddamn time Bakugou finally got a girlfriend,” Sero adds.

The girl nods enthusiastically in agreement, “It’s been a long time coming, indeed. Do you have any idea how long he’s been pining for you?”

Negative thirteen days, you think to yourself. But you settle for a hesitant shake of your head.

“Dudes—” Kirishima tries to interject, although his voice is drowned out in the chatter and the marginally too-loud pop music playing in the background.

Sero snorts, “She probably doesn’t, knowing Bakugou. Though—” a look of pure mischief takes over the tape hero’s face as he turns to face you, “—wouldn’t you want to know?”

“I, uh—”

“Remember the first time Bakugou got a text message from her when we were out getting drinks for Ei’s birthday two years ago?” Mina asks the guys, although the question seems more rhetorical than not. “He choked on his beer so hard I was surprised he didn’t cough his freaking lungs out.”

“Mina—” Kirishima tries again.

Sero barks out a laugh at the memory, “That’s nothing compared to when he got so red in the face when I first insinuated he might have a crush that one time he helped me move into my current place. The big guy didn’t even think twice about hurling a box of clothes at me.”

“Sero—”

“Please!” Kaminari finally pipes in, before gesturing the group to get close with a cheesy, ‘come-wither’ gesture. From the corner of your eye, you see Kirishima mouthing something to the blonde but you don’t quite catch it, eyes drifting back to the latter, more curious than you’d like to admit, even if you’re 99% sure they’re making all of this up to humor you.

The electric hero smirks to himself before prolonging the suspenseful air. “Don’t tell him this, but I sneaked into his bedroom during that sleepover we forced him to host during Thanksgiving last year, supposedly to play a harmless prank on him. And get this—I heard him mumble your name in his sleep.”

“Guys!”

Startled, everyone looks at Kirishima, who’s doing the ‘slicing his neck with his hand’ gesture before sheepishly bringing it to rub at his nape when he feels the group’s attention on him. You scan their faces one by one, not knowing how to react yourself, and you notice what you think is realization dawn on everyone’s faces.

Well, everyone except Kaminari.

You look at the guy who’s apparently been looking at you this entire time, and your reaction to his made-up, albeit intriguing story must be priceless because he puffs up with pride before blurting out: “And it sounded like a moan, too!”

Before you can even choke at your spit in response, you see Sero’s long arm appear behind the blonde a split second before he smacks him on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Kaminari cries out, clutching his head in pain, and you can only stare at the situation in front of you, bug-eyed. “What was that for?!”

“That’s for not knowing when to shut up,” Sero hisses, before shifting to face you, a blinding smile now having replaced the chastising look that was on his face just a brief moment ago. “Now, where were we?”

“Aren’t you shitheads going to order?”

You jump at the gruff voice on your left, and you look up to see Bakugou, decked out in his usual black tee and joggers, frowning at you before his eyes dart to study his friends. Wordlessly, he slides into the booth beside you, and you automatically scoot over to make room for him. Suddenly it makes sense to you why his friends designated this entire side to only the two of you—you sometimes forget that their grumpy friend is abnormally huge—a fact that you get reminded of as he brings his arm around to rest on top of the back of your seat, his wingspan covering almost the entire length of it.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to gather their bearings and faithfully decide that no, he probably didn’t hear all of that—he couldn’t, if they wanted to keep their heads attached to the rest of their bodies—but when they do, they all scramble for the menus and act too innocently like they weren’t just making ridiculous shit up behind Bakugou’s back.

You give the man a hesitant smile yourself when he peers at you, before simply passing you the menu Kirishima handed over your direction.

“Hurry up and choose,” he huffs, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “We ain’t got all day.”

Since your boss arrived at your table, the squad hasn’t said a single thing about Bakugou from the past, particularly stories involving you, which further supports your robust theory that they were just trying to embarrass the guy in front of his alleged girlfriend.

No one brings up what has been said, too, and you take that as your cue to follow suit and keep your mouth shut.

Instead, and to your chagrin, they’ve resorted to buzzing around you, asking all sorts of questions about your life like how long you’ve been working at Bakugou and Kirishima’s agency, what kind of work you do, what you like to do for fun, how many siblings you have, and so on. But they’ve especially enjoyed asking you about Bakugou and your budding relationship, dropping a teasing remark or joke every now and then.

Every now and then as in every other sentence.

You’ve been trying to play it off cooly, lying out of your ass while seeming as natural as you can, but Bakugou isn’t taking it as well as you.

Apparently, and you know now, that the man detests being teased—it’s almost comical how red he gets at the slightest taunt, and you failing to repress a chuckle at the sight nearly grants you a shove from the hotheaded blonde. You look at the sole other girl for help, but Mina only grins at you while wiggling her eyebrows playfully as she sits back to witness the exchange.

But aside from all that, you find yourself quickly bringing down your guard and joining in on the conversation every once in a while, eventually coming to the realization that you’re actually having fun.

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that Bakugou’s friends are great people, and seeing the man in a different environment than the one you usually find him in is interesting, to say the least.

In the midst of great conversation and in the blink of an eye, dinner is served and devoured, and before you know it, it’s 9 PM and everyone except Bakugou and you are around two to three drinks in.

“Come on, man!” Kaminari thrusts a glass of whiskey in Bakugou’s direction. “Let loose a little!”

The man in question merely lets out a ‘Tch’ before swatting the hero’s hand away.

“Don’t worry about him, bestie,” Mina calls out to you reassuringly, noticing you’ve been watching the two as you sipped on your own iced tea. “He just gets cranky when he’s not in bed by 9 PM sharp.”

“How ‘bout you, bro?” Kirishima asks you, this time a glass of gin and tonic in hand. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

You muster the most polite and grateful smile you can. “No thanks, Kirishima-san. I kind of have plans early tomorrow morning.”

Yeah, right, you think to yourself. You just don’t want to risk making a fool of yourself in front of your two bosses and their closest friends.

“Ooooh, is that why Bakugou isn’t drinking as well?” Mina chirps excitedly, “Are you guys doing something tomorrow?”

“Uh, no,” you say, hesitant and irrationally guilty, which swells when Mina’s face drops in palpable disappointment. You scramble to pull out a palatable lie from your ass, “I’m going out of town to meet a good old friend of mine who just got back from the States.”

A chorus of oohs and aahs erupt from the table at your answer; luckily, they don’t press for more details, which you’re grateful for, because you’re running out of lies for the evening.

You feel Bakugou eyeing you at the side, as if trying to figure out if what you just said is true when Sero suddenly speaks up, pointing to the far end of the restaurant.

“Hey, they have a photo booth! Whaddya say we give it a go?”

Everyone cheers in agreement and you find yourself getting ushered into the said photo booth. Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina plant themselves on the front while you get smushed between Bakugou and Sero at the back. You try not to let the close proximity with your boss get to you as Mina starts handing out the props, which you readily accept with a thanks. You look down at the ‘I’m awesome’ signage and rainbow-colored wig you’re holding, weighing your options, before ultimately deciding to make the sacrifice and give Bakugou the former. His crimson eyes trail to you when you tap his shoulder lightly, and down to the sign when you make the gesture of offering it towards him. He wordlessly takes it off your hands, and you can’t help but snort at how out of place he looks with it. He tosses you a glare, although it seems harmless enough.

“Ready?” Mina shouts, and the rest of you say your affirmation. You go through the motions, everyone changing up their poses and swapping props shot after shot, and you find yourself laughing along with the group as the ruckus unfolds around you. After the last click of the camera, you finally move to return the paraphernalia to the front with Bakugou shadowing you, and follow the rest as they hurriedly pile out of the small space when the sliding door suddenly slams shut.

“What the—” you reach for the indented groove and pull it open, but the door refuses to budge.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s booming voice ricochets within the small space, making you jump. “Quit fucking around, you guys.”

A chorus of laughter erupts from the outside, and only then does it dawn on you that you didn’t get locked in because of some stupid gust of wind.

Kaminari, who’s probably the one holding the door shut sounds positively evil when he pipes up with: “You’re not getting out of there until you do a round with just the two of you.”

“Yeah!” Mina adds excitedly. “And y’all better do those cute poses, you hear me? We’re not going home unless you do the classic kiss on the cheek!”

“Just the cheek?” Sero asks, “You should just go all out, Bakugou!”

“This is their idea, bros. I’m not involved here,” you hear Kirishima say in the background.

Oh motherfucking god.

Refusing to accept what’s happening, you try to pry the door open again, but Kaminari’s not letting up by the slightest. You stare at the door, unable to look at Bakugou and what feels like five minutes pass before the man finally speaks up.

“…Let’s just fucking do it.”

You turn around to gape at him, “E-excuse me?”

He sighs, looking as defeated as you’ve ever seen him, a tinge of pink tinting his cheeks in what you think is irritation. “They’re not gonna back down unless we fucking do what they say. Trust me,” he says as he plops down on one of the seats in front of the camera, “I know them.”

Hesitantly, you take the seat to his left, the feeling of resignation blooming in your stomach at his words. “O-okay, then. We can just quickly take the pictures like normal and we’ll be on our way.”

“No—” he starts, and he looks like it pains him to argue with you, “—if we don’t do this as they instructed, the shitheads are just going to make us do it again and again until we do.”

You flush at the implications of his words, “But—what—surely they’ll be reprimanded for hogging the photo booth?”

Bakugou shakes his head, seeming like he’s already surrendered his soul to the antics of his friends. “They don’t normally abuse their power as heroes, but they will for stupid shit like this.”

You can only blink at him, at a loss for words. If you think about it, it’s unnerving how calm and level-headed he’s being right now when you’re getting close to having a major freakout yourself.

“Well?” The man has the audacity to ask.

You shift awkwardly in your seat, choosing to look at the monitor in front of you instead of the pro-hero who you now realize is way too dangerously close for your comfort. “Okay, so the least number of shots we can go for is four.”

Bakugou grunts in what you think is approval.

You continue, “We can do one where we just sit and smile, another where we form a small heart with our hands to appease Mina, and—fuck, two more…”

You expected you’d be the one to do the agonizing task of directing your poses, so you’re surprised when Bakugou chimes in.

“That’s not enough for bug-eyes,” he says as a matter-of-factly, and you find yourself gulping in nervousness despite yourself. “We’ll have to get closer…”

Closer than this?

Bakugou seems like he’s debating something in his head before he gives you a firm nod. “The third one we can place your head on my fucking shoulder or something, and for the last—” he shakes his head in defeat, “just go and fucking kiss me on the cheek.”

“What?”

He shoots you an appalled look as if you jolting away from him at the mere suggestion is a criminal offense committed against him. “Don’t sound so fucking disgusted, idiot.”

You’re not about to tell him you’re the farthest from being disgusted and rather veering dangerously close to flustered. Instead, you croak: “Are you sure about this?”

Bakugou scoffs, “Does it look like we have a choice?” He pauses, before shaking his head rather adamantly, “It’s not like I want to do this…”

You frown, itching to argue that you, in fact, have a choice, but the man is so evidently resigned that any rebuttal dies down in your throat. He does know his friends better than you do. Obviously. You can’t accurately gauge how far they’re willing to go for you just to take these photos with the grump.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you mumble an ‘okay’ before standing to press the Start button.

And so you, once again, go through the motions.

Only this time you’re not laughing.

You can feel your smile straining as you pose for the first photo, and you’re guessing Bakugou is looking like he’s being forced to smile at gunpoint beside you.

Click.

At the tell-tale sound, you lift your left hand, forming half a heart, and bring it next to Bakugou’s right. Beside his, your hand is significantly smaller, and you’re staring at the shape you’ve formed together when the camera goes off again, catching you off guard.

Click.

You’re disoriented and barely registering the pace at which everything’s going when you feel a hand gently tug your head to the right, placing it firmly on top of a firm shoulder.

“Smile, you dumbass,” Bakugou says through gritted teeth. You obey.

Click.

You chance a glance at the man, whose eyes are downcast—staring at the floor. You hesitate, wary of the countdown, “…Can I?”

Bakugou merely closes his eyes in what you think is dreadful anticipation before opening them again, choosing to look straight into the camera instead of meeting your gaze. “Just do it.”

You’re not about to waste any more time and risk missing the timing and having to do this all over again, so you do.

It takes everything in you not to cringe the second your lips touch Bakugou’s cheek, suddenly becoming very aware of how chapped they are. But the thought is almost instantly replaced by the realization of how deceivingly soft his skin is, and you have to fight yourself from jerking away at the ridiculous observation.

The seconds go by so agonizingly slow, and as you wait for the shutter to go off, you notice how tense Bakugou is, whose eyes are now closed again. It occurs to you belatedly how weird it would come out in the photos if you had your eyes wide open this close to the guy, so you immediately slam them shut.

You do it just in time before you hear the all-too-familiar click, at the sound of which you promptly pull away and stand up.

“Great,” you chirp, too cheerily.

“Good,” he grunts at the same time as you.

You look at each other in surprise, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of you. The corners of Bakugou’s mouth twitch ever so minutely, and you could’ve sworn a smile is fighting to take over his lips.

You’re about to say something remotely embarrassing—just anything to fill the air, really—like ‘thanks’ or worse, when the door suddenly opens, startling the both of you.

Mina pokes her head through the small opening, squealing as her eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. “Well, come on, you two! They turned out amazing!”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

It’s about half past 10 when you finally decide as a group that it’s time to wrap things up and go home. Of course, you had to first sit through roughly thirty minutes of Mina gushing on and on about how cute your photos turned out, with Kaminari and Sero at the side teasing Bakugou about how uncharacteristically shy he looks. As you expected, Bakugou turned almost as red as a beet at the teasing, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with the group before getting silenced with a sharp glare from the man.

Despite the plethora of dirty looks he’s tossed your way the entire evening, Bakugou still went out of his way to offer you a ride home as you walked with the group to the exit. You were about to politely decline when you realized everyone else was watching and that it would be weird for you to turn down your boyfriend’s proposal this late into the night.

And so you reluctantly accepted.

Which is how you find yourself waiting by the restaurant’s front door with Mina while Bakugou fetches his car. The other three guys already hit the dirt and carpooled home together, not one of them having bothered to drive here in the first place knowing they’d get drunk, or at the very least, tipsy.

The silence is comfortable as you breathe in the cool, evening breeze, while Mina sways side to side beside you.

“If you ask me, Bakugou didn’t drink tonight because he wanted to drive you home safely.”

You whip around to look at the pink-skinned hero, “Huh?”

Mina only shrugs in response, not bothering to repeat herself. Instead, she reaches for something in her purse, digs through it for a couple of seconds, before pulling out a strip of film that you instantly recognize is that of you and Bakugou from a while ago.

“Sorry, but I’m keeping the one of us as a group,” she sing-songs, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, before thrusting the string of photos towards you. “But you get to keep the one of you and Bakugou.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly accept it from the girl.

She grins at you, “Keep it safe for him, ‘kay?”

You refrain from telling her that he most definitely doesn’t care about whether or not you keep these photos safe, and instead give her an affirmative nod. Looking down at the object in your hands, you study the images one by one.

Your smile does look a bit strained in the first, and you’re not even smiling in the second, dumbly staring at the heart instead, but you’d say you appear decent enough in the third yet downright foolish in the last. It’s Bakugou that leaves you dumbfounded, though.

He’s not smiling in the first one—at least, not really—but he still managed to look handsome and exude a boyish charm that’s always been characteristic of him. To your surprise, he’s also not looking at the camera in the second; instead, his eyes are directed towards you, a solemn expression on his face. Against your will, you feel yourself warm at the thought of being the object of his attention without your knowledge. In stark contrast, he comes off stiff as hell in the third photo with your head on his shoulder, and in the last one…

His eyes are closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his cheeks are tinged the lightest shade of pink.

Huh.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Mina pipes up out of nowhere, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You flush at her words. “Sorry?”

The girl merely smirks, a knowing expression etched across her beautiful features. “It’s written all over your face.”

Your free hand absentmindedly shoots up to feel your face, and it doesn’t elude you that you’re heating up.

To your relief, Mina doesn’t say anything else. She shrugs again, checking something on her phone before turning to face you once more, “Well, my Uber’s here! Tell Bakugou to drive safely and make sure you get home in one piece, okay, bestie?”

You smile at her concern and the adorable term of endearment she’s assigned to you, “I will.”

Mina seems to hesitate for a second before decidedly stepping closer and bringing you into a warm hug, which you return as best as you can.

You eventually pull away from each other after a moment, and she walks down the stairs and towards the dark maroon car that’s just arrived.

Leaving you with nothing but the space to mull over the ramifications of what has just been said.

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)♥

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[misctf]

Already in Costume

Happy start to October! Hoping to write a few stories to celebrate Halloween and spooky season. Enjoy!

“Bro, you’re seriously not going out tonight? It’s Halloween bro!”

Michael found it funny how offended his roommate sounds. Was it really so hard to believe that others might not want to dress up in stupid, slutty costumes and drink all night? He adjusts his glasses and looks over at his roommate.

“I much prefer to stay indoors.” He replies, “Besides, this lab report isn’t going to write itself.”

Joey looked perplexed, “Yeah, but...”

“And isn’t a bit too cold out for that.” He gestures at Joey’s getup, “I mean, what are you even supposed to be?” His nasally voice carries a condescending tone.

Joey looks down at himself. He’s topless, ensuring his muscles are on full display. Suspenders wrap around his broad shoulders, connecting to a pair of shorts that show off his bulge and bubble butt well. A pair of fake, thick rimmed glasses sit comfortably on his face.

“Dude, the alcohol will keep me warm.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, exposing his hairy pit, “And I’m a sexy nerd, dude! I mean, it’s obvious, right?”

Michael’s braying laughter fills the room. A sexy nerd? Really? For all intents and purposes, Michael knew what a nerd is. He prided himself on being one. Dressed in a pastel button down and high-waited khakis, thick-rimmed glasses, and hair neatly combed, Michael truly dressed and acted the part. Joey- not so much.

“A sexy nerd?” Michael laughs, “Oh Joey, that’s ridiculous.”

“But dude, this was your idea.”

Michael raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Yeah, bro.” Joey smirks, “You’re the one who thought we’d look good like this.”

Michael chuckles, “You must be mistaken.” But he feels uneasy. Like something isn’t totally right, “I need to...” When he turns back to his computer, he doesn’t find his lab report. No, the college football game is on, “What?”

“What’s wrong, Mikey?” Joey is now uncomfortably close to Michael, standing over him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“No-nothing.” His voice cracks and he tries to stand up, but Joey pushes him back into his chair, “What’re you...?”

“Don’t you remember how excited you were for this?” Joey asks, watching as Michael’s pants start to shorten, until settling about his knees, “People won’t stop staring, dude.” Michael watches as his shirt vanishes, exposing his slender figure.

“No... this isn’t...” Joey starts rubbing his thin chest, causing him to moan.

“Fuck, all those gym sessions really paid off, huh?” Joey whispers, feeling as his hand fills with Michael’s meaty pec muscles, “Fuck, and look at those.” Michael groans as his abs pop into existence, each perfectly sculpted.

“Joey... what’re you... oh god...” He moans as he feels his soft dick start to harden.

“Damn dude, fuck...” Joey whispers as he runs his hands along Michael’s growing arms. Perfectly toned biceps and triceps emerge form Michael’s once skinny arms, his shoulders rounding out with beautiful muscle, “God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Joey grinds up against Michael’s hardened cock, both of them moaning.

“Please... Joey... keep going...” Michael mumbles, lost in the moment. He can feel his ass fill out in his new shorts and watches as a pair of suspenders wraps around his broad shoulders, “Fuck...”

As the two continue to grind against one another, Michael’s glasses are knocked off. He gasps when he realizes he can see perfectly without them, but he’s distracted as Joey’s lips collide with his own. As the two kiss passionately, Michael’s thoughts are bombarded by new knowledge. Slow at first, but suddenly aggressive. Pushing out his nerdy interests.

“Wait, bro... no...” He breaks away from the kiss, his new dumb, yet sexy voice filling the air, “I’m not...”

But Joey’s lips collide with Michael’s again and the former nerd can barely think straight. He feels a calm wash over him as his stuck-up nature is replaced by that of a relaxed bro. He leans more into the kiss and more forcefully grinds up against Joey’s juicy ass. His interest in the hard sciences transitions to exercise science, while his passion for videogames becomes only focused on first-person shooters with his bros.

“What was that Mikey?” Joey breaks the kiss again and grins.

“I...I... fuck dude, keep going, please.” Mikey says, consumed in a horny lust.

“Fuck yeah, bro.” Joey grins, “But dude, we’re late to the party.”

Mikey whines, “Fuckin’ tease.” He curses.

“Don’t worry, dude.” Joey stands up, giving Mikey a nice view of his plump ass, “Patience is a virtue.”

Mikey smirked, and the two bros left for their night out. The cool air nice against their firm muscles, their egos satisfied by the lustful grins they got. But Mikey couldn’t care less. Instead, as he sipped on his beer, his only focus was on Joey’s firm ass. And the fun they were gonna have after their stupid night out.

[dunnerlars]

always attract - matthew tkachuk

pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader summary: matthew mistakenly tells your brother that you're his date to his wedding. word count: 5.7k warnings: none? i don't think a/n: this is my fic for @sc0tters for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the wonderful @wyattjohnston! i haven't written in forever so this was fun to dive into- and it's not beta'd because i'm terrified to ask someone to look it over so all mistakes are my own 😅

—

Matthew 🐀: I know its 5am for you but i think fucked up

Matthew 🐀: Will you be my date to your brothers wedding

The text has you blinking rapidly as you check the time, your phone bright in the dark of the room. Why the fuck is he up right now? Squinting, you see it’s just past 5am and groan, falling back into bed and wondering what the fuck Matthew’s even talking about. It takes a second for you to put everything together, mind failing to keep up with the words date, wedding, and brother.

Me: Sorry what??? What are you talking about

Matthew 🐀: we’re at connor’s bach party and leon asked if i had a date yet and i might’ve told connor you were going to be my date

Me: It’s 5AM 

Matthew 🐀: i know we’re heading back to the hotel now but Please b my date

Me: What did connor say?

You huff and roll over, sitting up to turn the light on your nightstand on. Matthew hadn’t responded back yet and you quick to type:

Me: Is he pissed??

Matthew 🐀: its hard to tell w him you know? So what do you say? Date? To the wedding? pleaseeeeeeee

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach at the thought and despite it not being your fault you feel guilty for Connor thinking you were hiding something from him. Matthew is your friend….He wouldn’t be the worst date. Might as well get something out of it.

Me: What’s in it for me?

Matthew 🐀: literally whatever

Having a favor from Matthew could come in handy at some point, you think. And it could be worth all of this fucking nonsense he’s putting you through at now 5:22am. 

Me: Fine, but you owe me a no-barred favor. I can ask for whatever, whenever I want no matter what.

You pause-

Me: How did this even happen?

Matthew 🐀: i’ll explain tomorrow and we can figure out details!!! Thnks babe 😘

Rolling your eyes, you set your phone back down on the nightstand and sigh. It’s almost too much to think about how quickly Connor and Matthew had become close over the last couple of weeks. You’d thought for sure there would be some residual hate from the Panthers Cup win but then Matthew had invited Connor out to his day with the Cup and it was love at first bro hug or whatever excuse they used. And despite the invites going out months ago, Connor had finagled an invite for Matthew and now here you were.

Ever since your move to southern Florida last year, your growing friendship with Matthew had always bugged Connor so it was funny to you now, seeing the tables turned. 

The vibration of your phone breaks you from your thoughts and you prepare yourself for another text from Matthew only to be surprised to see it’s a text from your brother.

Connor 👼🏻: So Tkachuk huh?

Deciding it was far too early to deal with this anymore, you turn the phone over and will yourself back to sleep.

—

It’s the next day when Matthew requests to FaceTime you, your phone ringing with a video call as you step outside to your backyard and get settled on a patio chair.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Matthew greets, his grin the most endearingly annoying thing about him.

“You don’t have to use lines on me, Matthew. I’ve already said yes,” you remind him, eyebrows raised as you try your best to glare at him. You take stock of his surroundings and frown. “Are you back in St. Louis already?”

“Yeah, I had a charity thing scheduled with my dad for tonight so I flew back late yesterday.”

“Oh.. Hope you’re not too hungover.” 

He shrugs and regroups, sliding his sunglasses up into his curls. “I’m alright. So-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I need you to explain to me what happened last night before we figure out everything else.” It’s something you’ve tried to piece together and you still haven’t texted Connor back, afraid you might break Matthew’s cover.

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nods, “We were walking back from a bar and Leon asked if I had a date to the wedding, since it was short notice that I was going. And the way he asked- it just really bugged me. Like his tone? I dunno. It just rubbed me wrong. And the guys were making shitty comments. Whatever.”

You know the tone Matthew’s referring to, grateful you’ve never been on the receiving end. Leon was a hard one to crack and it’d taken you at least a year to wear him down. Nodding at him to continue, he shifts his eyes and you can tell he’s embarrassed. 

“So obviously I told them I had a date and they stopped and it was fine- until your brother pulled me back from the group and asked who I was bringing, so he could tell Lauren, and I panicked and said you,” he mumbles the next part, your ears straining to pick up the words, “And I might've mentioned we’ve been dating.”

You pause, wondering if Matthew just said what you think he did and yeah- he did. He at least has the nerve to look sheepish, apologetic. “Dating? Are you… What? Matthew!”

“Look, I was on the spot okay! And drunk! And it’s not like it’s out of the question. You’re one of my best friends. My mom loves you, I swear you talk to my sister more than I do. I can go on,” he shoots you a pleading look.

“Well when you put it that way, sure. I guess.”

“You guess? You know I’m right.”

Sighing, you nod. “Fine. Whatever. Did you give him any details? I can���t imagine Connor didn’t have a million questions, I tell him everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Matthew, that’s not the point. Did he question you at all?” 

“No. Just patted me on the shoulder and we caught up with everyone else.”

“Huh.”

That’s…. Weird. And out of character for your brother, who’s nosy as fuck when it comes to your personal life. Maybe he already thinks it’s all a lie. Or is just actually super pissed, which isn’t any better. Would this even be worth it? How often would a favor from Mattew come in handy? Okay, actually pretty handy. He’s got money, connections. Could be good to have for things you don’t wanna ask Connor for… Ugh.

Glancing up, you catch Matthew waiting for you to say something and his curls catch the back light of the St. Louis sun from behind him, casting an almost halo glow around his head. His eyes are bright, sunglasses still tucked up on the top of his head. Two front teeth catching his bottom lip and biting and God, he’s pretty. 

Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. What could go wrong? 

“Alright, let’s figure this out…”

—

It’s hours later when you finally work up the nerve to call Connor, lying in bed after a long day. Since he hadn’t questioned Matthew for details, it was easy enough to make up a backstory for you and Matthew: it’s only been a couple of months, things aren’t serious but they’re fun and easy and you both like each other enough that it’s exclusive. Which was all real except that when you hung out, it just wasn’t a date. Because you weren’t dating. Nope.

The call finally connects, sure you were almost going to get his voicemail, and Connor greets you with, “Thanks for letting me know you’re alive.”

It’s easy to tell by the tone of his voice, short, quick and void of any emotion, that he’s disappointed because it’s the voice you know he uses when he loses a game he felt they should’ve won.

“You’re mad.”

“And why am I mad?”

“Because-”

“Because I found out you’ve been secretly dating Tkachuk behind my back, from him? Why did I have to find out from him and not you, my own sister? Was this going on throughout our entire Cup series? Or has it been longer?”

Fuck.

“Matthew lying to me is- It’s whatever. You’re my sister. Why didn’t you tell me? What about telling me made you straight up lie when I’ve asked you about your trips up to wherever the fuck the Panthers play? Or when he’s down there with you?”

Fort Lauderdale your mind supplies but you know it won’t do any good to say so.

“You always made it seem like it was just buddies when you told me you were meeting with him for lunch or whatever, someone that reminded you of home, but I guess that’s what made it so easy, huh?” The heat in Connor’s voice has petered out, like he’s figuring it all out and he sighs. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This is probably why you didn’t want to say anything to me.”

“It really was just friends, Con. I promise,” you tell him. “Then… I dunno. Things just got more real. I didn’t want to see anyone else and he didn’t either. It’s only been a couple of months, I swear.”

“So, through the series, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Connor lets out a long breath, like he’s deciding his next words carefully. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I get it. It wasn’t the best reaction.”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“But you’re coming to the wedding together?” You hear someone shout in the background and grin when you recognize Lauren’s voice. “Lauren wants to know if she should switch your escort down the aisle to Chucky.”

“I mean,” you pause, thinking. It would be nice to know who was walking down with you, one of Lauren’s second cousins or something was supposed to be your escort but having Matthew on your arm would be nice. “Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn’t fuck anything up on her end.”

Connor grunts, “As if Lauren would let anything fuck that day up. It’s fine. Let Chucky know for us, yeah? She’s making the calls already.”

“Alright. Thanks, Con. And tell Lauren thank you too.”

“Will do. Love ya, kiddo. Sorry I freaked out.”

You roll your eyes. Brothers. 

“Love you too. I’ll text you once I talk to him.”

Lauren and Connor both shouted their goodbyes as you hung up.

Me: So you’re gonna be my escort down the aisle next week in the wedding 🙂

Matthew 🐀: Fuck you

Me: You wish

Matthew 🐀: well yeah

Of course he didn’t mean it like that- Matthew always down for a joke, and you calm your racing heart, gulping down some water.

So now you not only have a fake boyfriend but also said (fake) boyfriend was going to walk you down the aisle at your brother’s wedding. In a week. Great.

—

You fly into St. Louis. The plan was to meet up with Matthew on the Saturday before the wedding and then you’d fly up to Toronto and drive up to Muskoka together on Wednesday. Trying to keep up appearances, Matthew had said. Thankfully the flight from Miami to Missouri wasn’t too terrible, even if the lady that was sat next to you had a perfume on that made you nauseous. 

Matthew had texted you that he was idling on the curb, waiting, and once you had your bags, you headed outside into the muggy heat. The loud honk of a horn coming from a giant black SUV startles you and Matthew rolls down the window with a laugh, “Come on, they’re gonna make me move again.”

It was tempting to make him squirm but you caught the eye of one of the traffic guards and scurry forward, dumping your bags into the backseat before jumping into the passenger’s side. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he grins, turning on his blinker before merging onto the road. “Seatbelt please.”

The quietness of the truck surprises you as you buckle your seatbelt, having expected some kind of rap music or sports podcast to be playing through the speakers. Or at least that’s what he normally was listening to when you’d meet up in Miami, and he’d pick you up at your apartment. The silence was comfortable though, the quiet hum of the AC and the tapping of Matthew’s fingers against the steering wheel filling the cab. His posture was relaxed, slouched in the driver’s seat.

Matthew swats lightly at your thigh, pulling your attention away from the window, “You should let Connor know you’re here.”

Digging through your bag, you search for your phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat with your brother and parents that you’d made it safely to St. Louis and were with Matthew, heading back to his house.

“So, how was the flight?”

Well it was fine in the sense that nothing went wrong and there weren’t any screaming babies and you managed to fall asleep since you’d been up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure you got to the airport in time but- Well. Your dreams had been filled with flashes of Matthew’s smile and his laugh and how he always managed to make you feel better after a bad day at work and he’d called just to say he was bored and was wondering what you were doing and, and and-. 

Where was this even coming from?

You obviously couldn’t say all of that so you shrug, “It was okay. The lady next to me must’ve bathed in perfume because I almost gagged but I pulled a mask on and managed to fall asleep against the window.”

Matthew whistles in sympathy, “God that’s always the worst.”

Nodding, you chew on your bottom lip and turn to face him in your seat and get a good look at him. “You look nice.”

And he did. There was something different about him and you weren’t sure if it was the glowing tan that covered his neck and arms, the blonde that was starting to weave its way into the curls that sat neatly on his head, or just the ease at which he was holding himself but he looked different. Maybe part of it was the fact that the last time you’d seen Matthew in person was right after the Panthers victory and he’d been dog tired and worn out, bushy beard and clothes hanging off his frame. This Matthew was refreshed and had a Stanley Cup under his belt, carefree and like nothing could bring him down. 

Matthew glances at you quickly, a sly smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? Well, gotta look good for my girlfriend ya know? Figured I’d shower, at the very least.”

Wait.

“Your parents don’t think we’re dating, right?”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head with a honking laugh, “Nah, I explained to them what happened. My mom’s excited to see you again though. And Taryn.”

“Not your dad?”

Pulling off the highway, he chuckles and shrugs. “Big Walt’s not home. He’s on some golf trip for the week.”

It’s hard not to let your relief show. Keith wasn’t your favorite person and taking him out of the equation of this short trip was a small victory you were willing to celebrate. To yourself.

“Cool cool cool.”

“It’s okay that you don’t like him,” Matthew assures you as he pulls up to what you can only assume is his parents home. It wasn’t familiar to you in the way Matthew’s St. Louis home was becoming from all of the play-by-play videos he’s sent during his off time, describing the day he’s had while grabbing his mail, or going for a walk around the neighborhood while telling you about the latest update on Brady’s incoming baby or what he was going to have for dinner.

“I don’t like how he treats you,” you remind him, voice quiet.

It was no secret to Matthew how you felt about his father. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d heard Keith put him down through solo interviews or in passing comments from Matthew or even Tayrn, when she’d call to tell you about another argument the two of them had that she’d overheard.

Matthew nods, grimacing. “Well, we don’t have to deal with him while we’re here. Come on, let’s head in before my mom wonders why we’re sitting out here instead.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. You and Taryn hang out in the backyard with White Claws while she tells you horror stories from her last semester at college and Matthew flits in and out, helping his mom with dinner while also trying to get the juicy gossip. It was comfortable, even if the St. Louis air was sticky with humidity and dinner went by quickly and soon enough, you were back in Matthew’s car heading to his place.

“Well this is nice. Not as nice as the one in Florida but- nice,” you whistle, taking in the coziness of Matthew’s home. There was an overstuffed couch in the center of the living room, a coffee table littered with sports magazines, and further back you could see the kitchen with deep brown cabinets and hardwood floors to match. “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom took care of most of it during the season. I just sent a bunch of pictures of things for her to copy,” Matthew shrugs, nodding up the stairs. “Uh, guest rooms are up there. You tired?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“Come on then, up we go.”

Matthew led the way up the stairs, carrying your suitcase. The temptation to smack his ass was a hard one to quell but you just barely managed when you hit the landing. 

“So,” he points to the left. “That room I use as an office but it’s got an en suite. Bed’s kinda small though.” Pointing to the right, he glances at you before speaking. “That one’s closest to my room. Bigger bed. No bathroom though.”

“Well obviously I’m taking the bigger bed.” You nudge his arm with yours, taking the suitcase and heading towards the room. “So, plans for tomorrow: Taryn said something about getting lunch? I don’t know if you’re invited. Also you’ve gotta take me to that bakery here you’ve been talking about for months so I can judge the almond croissant you’ve deemed better than the ones from True Loaf. Which are the best. Obviously.”

As you dig through your suitcase in search of pajamas, you glance up to see Matthew leaning against the doorway with a weird smile on his face as he looks at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, just-,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Glad to have you here. It’s been a while.”

“Happy to be here. Boyfriend.” You shoot him a wide grin, hoping it covers up the clear nervousness you’re feeling now that you’re settling in. Sleeping in his house.

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. “See you in the morning.”

—

The rest of your time in St. Louis was kind of great, all things considered. Matthew was an attentive host and Taryn and Chantal were eager to fill your time- from gossiping about the league, to things you needed to check out the next time you were in town. And Chantal had made you promise that you would- come back, that is, on your last night in St. Louis with the four of you crowded around the table in the backyard of Matthew’s house, sharing a bottle of wine and embarrassing stories.

You’d had to double, and triple check, with Matthew to make sure his mom or sister didn’t think the two of you were actually dating, especially when promises were being made to come back.

He’d just shrugged and said, “They just like you. I like you. Jeez, do people not tell you they like you?”

You were kind of bummed to be leaving as you packed your bag the morning of the flight up to Toronto, Matthew’s obnoxious singing ringing loudly throughout the house. After combing through the room a third time, you deemed it free and clear of your belongings and headed down the stairs, rolling your suitcase next to Matthew’s and chuckled at the sight before you as you turned towards the kitchen.

Singing horribly out of tune with Dancing Queen blasting on his phone’s speaker, was Matthew dancing like an idiot around the island in the center of his kitchen, eyes closed and belting the lyrics.

“Matthew.”

The live concert comes to an end, Matthew scrambling to pause the music. “Sorry,” he replies, ears tinged red in embarrassment. 

“Hey no complaints from me, but Taryn’s gonna be here in a minute,” you remind him, the fond smile on your face giving away far too much.

Matthew pockets his phone, nodding. He holds your gaze for a second before asking, “Come here?”

As soon as you’re a couple of steps away, Matthew pulls you into his chest and you go with a surprised oof.

“Thank you. For doing this.”

You turn your head into his chest, ear pressed against where his heart was and find comfort in the timed beating while you nod. “You’re welcome,” you mumble, turning your chin up and glancing at him.

Your gazes lock, his blue eyes searching yours. For what, you’re unsure but he seems to find the answers he’s looking for a short minute later, because he gives you another squeeze and steps back, letting out a breath. 

“I’ll grab the bags if you can shut the lights off?”

You’re already on it as Matthew walks away, flipping the switch in the kitchen and checking the backdoor to make sure it’s locked. The living room lights are next, and you meet him at the front door, catching Taryn’s car parked on the curb waiting. 

The drive to the airport is short, the early morning hours more forgiving with traffic and after giving Taryn a quick hug and a promise to text her when you both landed, you stepped away to give her and Matthew some privacy while dropping your bags at the kiosk outside. 

“Ready?” He asks, as you both wave goodbye to Taryn as she pulls away from the curb. 

“Let’s do this.”

The flight is smooth for how short it is, 2 hours passing by quickly. Arriving in Toronto is a nightmare, as usual, and Matthew spends over 30 minutes at the rental car desk trying to figure out where your reservation went. Eventually it gets sorted out and you’re on the road, tucked into the passenger seat of a sports car that you didn’t ask for. 

“If I fall asleep, don’t get mad at me please,” you yawn, pulling your feet up under you to get comfortable and leaning on the center console.

“Want me to turn the radio down?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your answer, his hand going for the volume knob but you stop him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“No, it’s good. I know it helps keep you awake.” Pulling your hand away from his slowly you tuck it underneath your head and nudge your forehead against his arm. “Thank you for driving, by the way.”

“Happy to, honestly. Driving helps me clear my head,” he tells you, glancing down and shooting you a grin.

You’re tempted to ask what’s going on with him- he’s been acting a little out of character since this morning but sense that he’s not ready to talk about it, so you just hum in acknowledgement and turn into your arms, willing for sleep to find you.

Thankfully you manage to fall asleep on the ride up, a small 2 hour nap doing the trick because you wake up feeling rested.

The cottages were set on the lake in Muskoka where everyone would be staying for the wedding and you and Matthew were set to share one with your parents with Connor and Lauren next door in the one they own and spend his off season in. 

Your mom and dad are sat on the front porch in a set of rocking chairs as Matthew pulls up and  you’re quick to jump out of the car once it stops, calling out to them as they wave to you in greeting while he grabs the bags out of the trunk, “Long time, no see!”

Once hellos and introductions are done, with your dad and Matthew bonding what feels like instantly and your mom hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, the four of you make the small trek over to Connor and Lauren’s for dinner after dropping your bags off.

Dinner is comfortable, Matthew sat on your right with his arm draped across the back of your chair the whole time. Connor doesn’t give you two any weird looks and you count it as a win as you settle down for the night, avoiding talking about the fact that there’s only one bed in the room while you both brush your teeth. 

“I forget how involved these things are,” Matthew says, leaning against the counter watching while you finish washing your face.

“Weddings? Yeah, I mean. I think this is a little different, though,” you laugh, pat drying your face. “Lauren’s dialed everything up to a thousand for it.”

Matthew nods, thinking about it. “I’ve noticed,” he finally answers with, nudging you out of the bathroom. 

“And there was one bed,” you dramatically announce, sweeping your arms around the room and Matthew honest to god giggles which causes you to start giggling, both of you falling into a heap on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Clearing his throat, Matthew grunts, “We’re adults, we can share a bed. Right?” His head turns towards yours and you swallow, realizing how close the two of you are. 

If you scooted an inch closer, you’d be able to tilt your head up and press your lips to his and- No.

“Right,” you finally manage to mumble out.

The air is stilted while you both turn down the bed, shuffling under the covers once the light is out and you make sure to stay tucked to your side of the bed, legs curled under you and knees almost hanging off the bed.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

From morning yoga to late night barbecues, swimming and then rehearsals, you were exhausted. Not to mention keeping up appearances with Matthew: hand holding, arms wrapped around waists, and too many forehead kisses to count were wearing on you. It was starting to feel real and thinking about what was to come when the weekend was over and you’d go your separate ways was overwhelming.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, which was hard enough, was that the last week or so with Matthew had been nothing short of amazing. You didn’t date, really ever. It was hard enough being Connor McDavid’s sister and trying to figure out if someone actually wanted to be with you vs. wanting to know your brother and the perks it comes with but, with Matthew that didn’t exist. You didn’t have to question why he wanted to be around, and while yes, you know each other because of Connor, you were friends in your own right.

The morning of the wedding came quickly, finally managing to get a solid amount of sleep and it was easy to figure out why when you accounted for the fact Matthew’s chest was beneath your cheek when you woke up. So far you’d both managed to keep separate throughout the night, at least as far as you could tell since he was up before you most mornings so this was surprising. 

Matthew shifts beneath you and you peer up as he blinks his eyes open, gaze catching yours. “Sorry,” you mumble, about to roll away when he catches you by the waist to hold you tight to him.

He groans deep in his chest as he stretches out and settles back against the pillows, content with a smile. “Mmm, don’t apologize. This is nice,” he tells you, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of your arm.

You hum in agreement before catching the time on the alarm clock opposite of you and sigh. “It is, but I’ve gotta get up. Bridesmaids duties call and if I’m late, Lauren will murder me and I’ve been having a nice time so I’d like to not ruin that.”

“I have too,” Matthew agrees, “I was nervous at first but it’s been kind of- fun? And having you around hasn’t been too terrible either.”

You pinch him in the side at that and he squawks, shuffling away. “Alright, alright. Damn,” he laughs, jumping out of bed. “I ruined the mood, I get it.”

A knock sounds on the door, your mother’s voice ringing out on the other side. “Sweetie, Lauren just called to make sure you’re awake. We’ve gotta head over soon.”

“I’ll be down in five,” you call back, throwing the covers off and shooting Matthew a glare. 

His hands come up in surrender and you laugh, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You don’t have to do much before leaving, since the ladies are getting ready over at Connor and Lauren’s cottage and the guys are coming here. Washing up and grabbing your bag, you blow a sarcastic kiss to Matthew on your way out and he rolls his eyes and catches it before you leave and your mother just laughs, teasing you for how cute the both of you are. 

The wedding is beautiful, as expected. The guest list is full of people who you’ve known most of your life, who have supported Connor throughout his career, and you’re immensely proud of the person he’s become.

You stand at the altar among Lauren’s best friends and watch your brother get married, near tears, seeing how happy he is. How happy they both are- you’re gaining a sister in her and it’s all kinds of crazy magical, how everything’s come together and that includes having Matthew as your date because he’s been kind of the best. 

Once dinner is done, the cake is cut and the happy couple has come through and been announced and their first dance out of the way, the dance floor opens up and everyone lets loose. The DJ is fun and plays throwback after throwback and Matthew keeps close to you, offering to refill your drink or ask if you need a break when slow songs come on. Eventually you do, toeing off your shoes and hiding them under your chair before slumping into the table. 

“I am pooped,” you whine, blowing your hair out of your face and groaning into your arms. 

“It’s a little early to be tapping out, babe,” Matthew chuckles, finishing off his beer. 

“God, I know. Lauren will kill me if I leave early,” you glance around the dance floor for her and see Celeste behind her, arms wrapped around each other's necks and you smile. “Are you having fun? I’m not keeping you from anything? I know the guys are around here somewhere.”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head, nudging his knee with yours. “Nope, nowhere else I wanna be.” He licks his lips and you track the movement, mesmerized. “And yeah, lots of fun. You’re not too bad of a date.”

You snort, “Thanks. Really appreciate that.”

A few songs later and a discussion of the rest of your summer plans gone, you both join the dance floor again when a slow song hits. Matthew’s hands slide low on your waist and your hands clasp behind his neck, swaying to the beat. The music is soft and you can hear the nighttime noises from the woods behind you, the lapping of the lake against the dock that’s not too far away. It’s calming and Matthew pulls you a little closer, your head just close enough to rest against his chest.

“Have you thought about the favor you want when this is all done?” He wonders, keeping his voice low so only you can hear.

Honestly you’d forgotten all about the deal you’d made- it wasn’t exactly a hardship to play fake girlfriend to Matthew because it wasn’t all that different to how you normally interacted with him. But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe there was something you wanted. More time.

You tell him honestly, “Yeah. Later though,” and tuck your face back into his chest and will for the moment to never end.

—

It does come to an end. The wedding dies down a couple of hours later, Connor and Lauren waving everyone off and thanking the guests for coming. You and Matthew are both sober enough to make the small trek back to the cottage next door and he holds your hand the entire way back, using the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the dark. It’s tempting to call him on it but you don’t want him to let go either.

Your parents are already settled in bed when you both tiptoe up the stairs and you sigh in relief when you’re finally back in the bedroom, closing the door and immediately chucking your heels across the room.

Settling in for the last night, you turn over and feel brave, scooting closer to Matthew in the dark. 

“I don’t think I wanna fly back to Miami tomorrow,” you whisper, heart hammering. “I’ve still got the next week off and I was going to use it to catch up on some things around my apartment but I just. Don’t want to. You’re going back to St. Louis right?”

Matthew turns on his side to face you and you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the way he’s taking you in- like you’re something special, something to be taken care of. 

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” he tells you. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m ready to cash in my favor.”

“Alright, hit me. What’ve you got?”

The look Matthew’s giving you is encouraging and you suddenly feel brave and steadily say, “Go somewhere with me.”

Matthew reaches across the short distance and his hand catches yours, twining your fingers together and asks, “Where are we going?”

[writingwrench]

Confession (Stanford x Reader)

 I hope y’all enjoy! If you want me to write another or you have a suggestion, hit me up!

 Stanford glanced at the photo of the cheerful woman on his desk. She had this immutable, meanderous personality that he’d fallen hard for.

 Ever since they were younger, he’d had a type of respect for her enthusiastic and bubbly personality. Ever since high school (maybe even before then) he’d acquired an officious fervor for her. He didn’t really know how to tell her for fear of provoking some kind of rancor. 

 Even so, he ventured from his basement in search of his parsimonious heretic of a brother....

 “Stanley?” he asked,shutting the vending machine door. The twin was found sitting at the register, counting his day’s winnings.

 “Hey,bro!” he said, sea-tanned face splitting into a grin.

 “I need help,” Ford muttered,pulling a chair over to the counter and sitting down. 

 Stan set the money down,giving his brother his full attention. It wasn’t like him to ever ask for help. Even when they were on the Stan-O-War II.

 “I....I have feelings for (Y/N)....” he awkwardly began,hoping Stanley would understand. 

 Slowly, Stan began to smirk,before full acclaim filled the room. 

 “Finally, you admit it. It’s been over thirty years!” he laughed. Ford’s face was set aflame. He knew his brother wasn’t being callous, but he still felt somewhat ashamed for him to take this long to bring up the gall to tell her.

   Seeing Ford’s impression of a tomato, Stanley laughed again quietly,before,”Look,Poindexter, just go out there,hike up your big boy panties,  and tell her. She feels the same way...even though I don’t really understand, I am the better looking twin!” He grinned,winking. Which earned him an eye-roll from Ford.

 Still unsure, Ford, paused before the door, before Stan got fed up and just pushed him out to where (Y/N) was sitting with Dipper and Mabel. 

 “-I’m trying to nail that quack reporter for his actions,” She was saying. Stanford didn’t really understand what kind of conversation  he’d managed to walk into, but just hearing her voice, he’d instantly felt relieved. 

 “Hey, (N/N)?” he asked, nervousness seeping into his pores.

 “Hey, Ford!” she smiled brightly,turning to him. He stared at her for a moment, lost in her (E/C) eyes, before the awkward silence was broken by the angel he’d fell in love with.

 “What’s up?” she asked, not at all perturbed by the awkward silence. (She’d gotten used to it fairly quickly since Ford himself was such a cute, awkward person.)

 “I....um...I have to confess something,” he stuttered out, not meeting her eye for fear of peeing himself. He didn’t understand. He could take on demons and other horrifying creatures, but with a mere glance from (Y/N),his knees would buckle and he’d be a total loss for words.

 The girl raised a brow, signaling for him to continue....so he did.

 “I want...um...I would love.. gah,screw it! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!!” he yelled,startling (Y/N) and the younger twins.

 It was quiet until- “OH MY GOSH,GRUNKLE FORD!!!!!”

 (Y/N)’s face tinted pink.

 “Kids,” she said shakily,”Please give us some privacy.”

 They did as told, making their way to the house. It wasn’t long before she saw two heads pop up over the window sill. 

 Rolling her eyes and grinning, she rushed over to Ford,tackling him in a fierce hug. They both landed with a thud,before surprised giggles filled the air.

 “I love you too,Ford,” (Y/N) said, still grinning before pulling him to her by the front of his overcoat. Their lips met. The kiss was sweet and passionate, the  both of them marveling at how long it took for them to get to this point.

 They disconnected, resting their foreheads on each other’s shoulder, and quietly grinning.

 “(Y/N), I’m so sorry it took me so long,” Ford finally said,breaking the silence.

 He was met with another kiss.

 “It’s alright,you dork,” she said, still grinning.

 It may have taken forever, but she finally felt truly wanted.

[kissitbttr]

frat!miggy headcannons !!

frat!miguel masterlist

—

sfw !!

frat!miguel is the type to giggle and kick his feet up in the air when you tell him simple things like ‘i am so proud of you, baby’ or ‘look at how handsome you are, my big boy!’

frat!miguel gets jealous of small things. your fictional crushes. your girlfriends. your pet. your back spotter in the cheerleading team. gloria.

frat!miguel is also protective. very. to an extent where even you’re only standing five feet away from him at a party, his eyes will be locked in on you. arms crossed, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying in front of him. smiling like a lovesick puppy when he sees you laugh.

frat!miguel who would in seconds, kneel to tie your shoes when they see them undone. you don’t even have to ask.

frat!miguel plugs into his laptop, spending hours on his free time to look up cheerleading sports when both of you started dating. learning about the rules, routines, physical training, winning teams, tumblings, pyramids, etc. why, you ask? no idea.

frat!miguel is your own personal scary dog privilege. there is nothing about this man a golden retriever. especially at the gym. since you love wearing tight shorts and sports bra on leg days, he would stand a few feet apart behind. glaring to those who stares at his girlfriend’s juicy butt.

frat!miguel brings you flowers every weekend and send ones for your mother too. every once a week he goes out to play ball with your dad too. the man is surprised at how well your dad could throw.

frat!miguel who keeps stashes of condoms in his ‘special’ drawer since you stay over almost every day at the frat house. he figures that it’s better to be prepared than nothing. when really, he’s just one horny motherfucker.

frat!miguel who is so damn clingy that you have no clue on how to deal with it anymore. you could send this man a text of ‘bye, talk to you later, baby’ because you’re leaving for practice and he would spam you with

my miggy<3 : what? no!

my miggy<3 : wdym bye?!

my miggy<3 : princesa please don’t leave me!!!

my miggy<3 : i’d die💔💔💔

my miggy<3 : omg pleasepleaseplease come back

my miggy<3 : so you’re just going to let me die:(

frat!miguel who spends almost his entire junior and senior being fawned and gushed by other girls that he didn’t even think for a second to actually try. but for you? ask him to get you the moon, and he gives you saturn

frat!miguel asks you one day if he could be your boyfriend. not the other way around. not ‘can you be my girlfriend?’ because he’s threading lightly and he needs your permission

—

nsfw !!

frat!miguel is a large, large, man. he’s jacked bro. 6’9 and built like a damn linebacker. he’s big down there too, so it did take some time for you to get used to his size

frat!miguel loves fucking you. to no end. his stamina could go on for hours and he’s lucky enough to have you as his perfect match. ‘always fuck like damn rabbits’ is a review from glen

frat!miguel doesn’t care about whereabouts. if he’s horny and needed you, then you better get to it! (but of course, only if you’re comfortable)

frat!miguel prefers taking you from behind, he loooves seeing your ass bounce against him. it makes him lose his mind. guaranteed that it would be hard enough for him to last

frat!miguel is a sucker for eating your pussy. day and night, this man could have it for his five course meal. he loves it when you’re sitting on a chair, legs spread and tucked upwards while he’s just on his knees lapping at your cunt

frat!miguel loves having control but even more when you’re in charge. bouncing on his dick, not allowing him to touch you while rather just let him watch your tight pussy swallowing his cock.

frat!miguel gets off to your moans. they’re like music to his ears. how could one be so angelic and pornographic at the same time, shits crazy.

frat!miguel who has a breeding kink. he would go on about how he’s willing to knock you up during fucking, whispering in your ear that he’s going to put a baby in you.

frat!miguel is obsessed with your mouth. the head you give is top notch. you could do so much shit with your tongue around his cock than half of the girls he had before with their hands.

frat!miguel who’s lock-screen wallpaper is a selfie of you in the shower. hair wet, one arm covering your tits, puckered lips and doe eyes at the camera. head tilting to the side. it’s one you sent when he had texted you ‘what’s my girl doing today?’ during football practice. you look so damn cute and sexy, he just had to do it.

[c0ffeejelly1]

Kinks I think he has

Reigen headcannon

Authors note: look yall. I know i didn’t really take this seriously BUT BUT BUTTT you either take it or leave it.

Warnings: NSFW Content

Praise kink

You kind of stumbled upon his kink by accident. It wasn’t like you were totally convinced, so you figured you’d give it a shot, and honestly, you were not disappointed.

Maybe it was the way he shivered in pleasure, the cutest little whine escaping his lips as you tell him how much of a good job he’s doing making you feel amazing.

“S-stop saying- fuck..stop saying stuff like that..”

It was impossible for him to conceal the redness that crept across his face.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say it flipped a switch inside of him. For that entire day, he was a beautiful mess, completely under your influence. He still denies it though.

Role playing

OKAY YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHYY I BELIEVE THIS. So y’all know the episode with him and mob as highschool girls? Yeah.

His whole personality in the entire show is him being a conman, this man IS into role playing.

You probably have to be with him for a lil while for him to actually ask if you could both try it out, and yes you were willing to because this is reigen, and we’d do anything for him.

“Hey, um..babe?” He starts, shifting slightly in the bed you were already cosied up in.

“Yeah? Something up?”

“No, no..I just- well, y’know..was thinking..”

You set your phone aside and turn to look at him.

“..about?”

“Well um..it’s k-kinda embarrassing.” He adds, a flush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Reigen, baby, just spill it. I’m not gonna bite your head off.” He bites his lip for a moment before finally revealing his thoughts.

“Can we try roleplaying?”

“…like In Roblox?”

“What? No! The- the adult kind!”

“Ooh…I see what you mean.”

It would kick off with a light scenario of a forbidden romance between a boss and their employee, and to be honest he was happy with just that, because my GOD was it the best sex of his life.

Maybe it was because you were so into the role- I mean, who knew you could so hot? Seriously, one day he’s definitely going to ask you to ride him on his actual office chair.

Oral sex

This man is a sucker for receiving. Imagine him being so stressed from work after handling a spirit with mob that all he can do is just fall back on the couch and groan loudly about how long and hard his day has been.

This is the obvious sign you NEED to take before ripping off the restraints covering his oh so perfectly shaped cock..to you at least. Just give him a few licks at his tip, and he’s thanking you like you were an angel sent down just for him.

“Ah..f-fuck, what’d I do to d-deserve you..”

Seriously though, he’s so incredibly thankful for you and everything you’ve done for him. Bonus for you being able to just allow for him to relax like this. He could marry you if you asked for it. ONLY if you asked.

Now giving though.

This man is eating you WELL. Like proper devouring you. HAVE YOU SEEN THE WAY HE EATS AT THE DINER WITH MOB? BROS SCUFFING BURGERS DOWN HIS THROAT, HES SURE AS HELL SUCKING OUT EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT.

Cock warming

Sometimes all a guy needs is his girl. Preferably in his lap..maybe also on his cock. So why not have the whole package? Cock warming.

I don’t see y’all really doing this often..maybe in his office, like once a blue moon? I’m not saying it HASN’T happened before though, but it’s not often because we ALL know YOU wouldn’t be able to control yourself and instead start riding the fuck outta this man. I would too don’t worry

Just imagine him complaining about how you keep moving around too much AGRHHH then he gets all “fuck, I might c-cum from that..” AND AND AND THEN HES BEGGING YOU TO ACTUALLY RIDE HIM PROPERLY AND HE CUMS AND EVERYONES HAPPY 🤗🤗 the end.

[user211201]

I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

That’s how it started, you see. With irony. With a joke. A joke Daniel made about grabbing em by the pussy. Jared said it was kinda offensive, man. Daniel doubled down, saying he was just being ironic, explaining how he’d never be that misogynist, obviously.

Jared did end up laughing, just not wanting to be rude more than anything. I mean, they were friends and obviously Daniel didn’t swing that way.

But one joke turned into another joke, days later. And another. And the ways things were spiraling, soon the two roommates – they lived in a shared house of four – were joking about it all the time. Pretending to be alt-right. Pretending because it was fun, it was funny, it was something to do, a way to make fun of guys who acted like that while simultaneously getting to feel what it was like to be that sort of guy themselves.

They were pretty regular guys. But it became funny to pretend they were jock studs, too. “I dare you to work out, bro,” Daniel goes one night. “I fucking dare you. If you can do 100 pushups consecutively, I’ll even let you grab me by the pussy,” Daniel goes, grabbing his own cock and balls through his shorts for emphasis, which wasn’t hard since he was freeballing that night.

“Oh yeah?” Jared said, “Watch this, bro.” He only made it to fifteen, laughing, but they kept up their dare. Jared was building some pipes on those arms. And months later, after a few shots of whiskey, he hit one hundred pushups for the first time in his life.

“Dude, if I’m gonna grab you by the pussy, I want to see you wearing those Old Glory shorts.” Yeah, the shorts Daniel bought to be ironic. Jared knew those.

And he did grab Daniel’s cock and balls through the shorts, holding onto them tight, laughing, squeezing. “Ouch, dude, that fuckin’ hurts,” Daniel said. It was hilarious. They were so drunk.

But then it was Jared’s turn to dare Daniel, saying he should get as pumped as he was, that is if he could ever catch up. “I’m working on 120 pushups, bro, and look at you. Fuckin’ puny. Little Daniel. I dare you, bro. You can grab me by the pussy if you ever catch up.”

Daniel wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. And soon his guns were just as big, if not bigger. Their jokes were becoming almost infamous in the house.

“Drop and give me 20, Daniel. ‘Merica!” “Come on, tiny hands, let’s see if you can beat me at arm-wrestling.” “Aww, so hot, bro. You and that MAGA cap. I bet you’ll be able to score all the pussy you want if you wear that out to the bars.” “Lock her up, lock her up!” Daniel said to Jared when he was drunk off his ass, trying to tie him to his chair with rope. The guys loved horsing around.

Jared and Daniel both had American flag shorts, now. They had flag tank tops, t-shirts, hats, even MAGA caps. They were getting to be pretty buff guys. Acting like right-wing jockbros had been ironic, but now they looked pretty convincing in the part after working out so much and buying the gear they bought. Vocal inflections, ironic at first, now sounded more and more legit as they got their impersonations down pat. Sometimes they’d go out and hit the bars, ham it up, see who they fooled, which was pretty much everybody.

They were good at this. It was fucking funny and fun as hell.

Drunk one night, Daniel found himself confessing to Jared that he thinks it’s really hot when Jared acts like a MAGA guy. “Yeah bro?” Jared said, “I think it’s hot too. Makes me feel hot. It’s like everything I secretly want to be when I’m like this.”

“Yeah bro?” Daniel said, “I think that’s so fucking hot, man. You look great as one of those guys. I almost feel like I could grab you by the pussy for real, bro.”

“Why don’t you do it then, bro,” Jared said, “When we’re home. I fucking dare you, bro. Get those tiny hands on this big cock of mine. Bet you don’t have the balls.”

But turned out Daniel did have the balls, and when he took Jared’s cock in his mouth behind that locked bedroom door, all Jared could say was, “Fuck, bro. MAGA, bro. That’s so fuckin’ hot, bro,” before he came, five minutes later, flooding Daniel’s mouth with white hot cum.

[clearexpertarcade]

The Beer Garden Reality Check

Chris sat back, basking in the warm afternoon sun, sipping his beer as laughter rang out from his group of friends. It had been a while since they all got together like this, no work, no stress—just hanging out like old times. He absentmindedly placed his hand on his stomach, the muscles he had worked so hard to maintain in college long gone, replaced by a softer version of himself. He wasn’t worried, though. Sure, he’d put on a little weight, but nothing to worry about. He was still in good shape, right?

His buddies, Mike, Tom, and Evan, sat across from him, laughing about something stupid that happened the other day. Chris leaned back in his chair, adjusting his shorts. They felt a little tighter than usual, but that was just from sitting all day, he thought. He felt a little uncomfortable, so he shifted, tugging at the waistband to loosen it.

Mike glanced over, noticing Chris’s movements. He smirked, nudging Tom with his elbow.

MIKE (Laughing) Hey, Chris, looks like you’re letting yourself go a bit, huh?

Chris blinked, confused. He didn’t think much of the comment and took another sip of his beer.

CHRIS (Laughing) What are you talking about, man? I’m still in decent shape.

Mike grinned and pointed at Chris’s stomach, his finger making a circular motion as he gestured.

MIKE Yeah, decent shape… of a beer keg!

Tom and Evan burst out laughing, but Chris chuckled awkwardly. He leaned forward, glancing down at his stomach. For the first time that afternoon, he noticed his belly was actually hanging over his belt. He sat up straighter, trying to suck it in, but the slight overhang didn’t disappear. He hadn’t noticed it before.

CHRIS (Nervous laugh) Come on, it’s just a couple of pounds. It’s not like I’m fat or anything.

Tom raised an eyebrow, still smirking as he set his beer down.

TOM (Laughing) Man, you sure? That gut says otherwise. Look, it’s literally hanging over your belt.

Chris glanced down again, now feeling the pressure of the waistband digging into the soft skin of his belly. He shifted in his seat, tugging at his shorts again, trying to get more comfortable. His friends continued to chuckle, but Chris’s grin started to fade.

EVAN Dude, you’re carrying around a little extra. It’s cool, though. Happens to the best of us.

Chris shook his head, refusing to believe it. He wasn’t fat, just a bit out of shape.

CHRIS I’m not that bad. I mean, you guys are exaggerating.

Mike leaned back, taking another swig of beer and raising an eyebrow at Chris.

MIKE (Laughing) Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro. Just don’t lean back too far or that button’s gonna pop.

The table erupted in laughter again, but Chris’s face turned red. He took another sip of his beer to hide the awkwardness, but the thought stuck with him now. His gut was really hanging over his belt. How had he not noticed? He shifted again, his hand slipping over his stomach as he tried to feel if it was really as big as they were making it out to be.

The conversation drifted away to other topics, but Chris stayed quiet, his mind focused on the feeling of his gut pressing against his belt, a small but undeniable reminder that maybe he wasn’t in as good shape as he thought.

This story emphasizes Chris’s initial denial about his weight gain and how his friends’ playful teasing makes him realize that he might not be as fit as he believes. His friends pointing out his gut overhanging his belt is the turning point where he starts to see himself differently. Let me know if you'd like to explore this further!

[webslingingslasher]

ughhhh peter always being so oblivious. can’t even listen to his girlfriend when she’s right in front of him, practically begging him 😡 loved your most recent story 🩷🩷 (still can’t believe there’s finally a pink heart emoji)

was this supposed to be angsty? too bad, it's smutty.

*suggestive behavior and words, no real depictions of sex, sorry kiddos.

‘How do you tell someone you want them?’ No, no, wait… ‘How do you tell your boyfriend you want him?’ 

Wiki-how says to flirt with them, been there done that, message not received. 

Teen Vogue just wants to give you ways to say ‘I love you,’ you’ve tried that too, you just get a declaration back. 

Cosmopolitan says to be bold, ‘I want you inside of me,’ is a direct quote. Bold, sure. But with Peter? You’d think he’d collapse. 

On Quora someone took the bullet, ‘how do I let my boyfriend know I want him to touch me?’ Ah, there it was, someone had to have a good answer. A man in his forties says dirty talk, your nose wrinkles. A young mom says, ‘just like that!’ An anonymous reply said to initiate fist, touch them where you want to be touched, but you can’t exactly squeeze Peter’s boobs. 

You wonder if you told Ned he’d tell Peter, you can imagine that conversation. 

‘Bro, Y/N just told me she wants you to like… use her body as a wonderland.” 

“A what?” 

Yeah, not a good idea either. 

Even with a boyfriend, a super hot, charming, smart boyfriend, you were going to die a virgin. 

Every attempt has fallen short, no matter how close you think you are from him finally getting the hint. Last week you had him between your legs, wrapped tight around his hips as you grinded up towards him, mouths refusing to break. And then, right when he finally, finally, moved his hips with yours and you moaned he pulled away and rolled off of you. That quick too, talk about a cold shower. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do that thing now?” He was panting still, he looked over you flushed out and almost pulled himself back in, too dangerous, he had to use self control. Peter uses what strength he had to get off the bed, he’s already going to his computer, you didn’t get a choice, he chose for you, if he had asked you would’ve asked to ride his thigh. 

“I’d rather you show me what your hands could do,” you mumble under your breath, you want to scream into his pillow and then hump it, does he not feel how frustrated you are? Peter hears you, he gives a chuckle, “they can help you is what, come watch,” he pats his arm rest on the chair. 

You follow his instructions, still grumpy. “I’d rather they help me in a different way,” Peter flashes you a nervous smile, you make him lose his grip on reality. He makes sure you're watching as he clicks around, he’s giving you instruction but all you can think about is his hard thigh underneath you, his grip is tight around your waist, his palm that rests over your shirt radiates heat to the skin underneath. He’s driving you crazy. 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to be blunt, it will be awkward for a second but so, so worth it in the end. “Peter, I want to-” A squeeze, an apology when his phone rings. Only three people call him, Ned, May and you, seeing as you’re on his lap that leaves two options. 

“Hey, May. Oh yeah, no I don’t think so. Um, sure. Well, he didn’t say much but he did want, no, go ahead.” You look at the ceiling and curse, Peter’s thumb brushes your hip, he’s giving teasing touches and doesn’t even know it. “I dunno, hold on let me ask,” he pulls the phone from his ear, “baby?” You look at him, “staying for dinner?” You nod, he grins, “yeah she will… okay, yes ma’am, no problem. Okay, okay, okay, alright, okay, love you too, bye.” 

“Is she at the store?” 

“Yeah, think of anything you need?” 

He clicks at the screen, “yeah, condoms.” 

You jolt at his laugh, his chest pressed tight against your back, Peter snorts, “why would you need those?” 

You stay silent and instead look at the screen and wait for him to continue his lesson, the bubble of want simmering.

—-------------------------------------

“Are you okay?” 

Peter has to literally hold you back by your shoulders, he’s gasping for air, his curls frizzy and pulled around, his shirt unbuttoned three down from the top. You attacked him the second you got into his room, nearly throwing him onto the bed before straddling him and marking your territory. 

You had been at it for a half hour, everytime he tried to stop you’d follow his movements and continue, he had no idea how you were keeping your breath. The only time he remembers you pulling away was to tug your shirt over your head before you immediately unbuttoned his collar and kissed down his neck. 

“‘M great, are you?” you’re just as breathless as him. 

He nods, “‘M good.” 

You smile, “great!” Then go to meet his mouth, Peter turns his head at the last second, you connect with his jaw, you frown but accept any skin, you trail sideways and down, sucking at a spot near his collarbone. One hand grips your hip, one settles on your ribcage. He grunts and you skim your lips back to his mouth, he’s slower this time, like he’s trying to edge you down carefully, you don’t accept the change of rules and open into his mouth, he wont talk the bait. 

You try again, you swipe at his bottom lip, he stays closed. Frustrated you grind down on him, he buckles but refuses to open his own mouth, last resort you bite down on his lip. 

Peter pushes you off, “fuck, you’re insatiable.” 

You look down on him, “why won’t you make out with me?” 

His cheeks are pink, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils are blown out. 

“You’re killin me, smalls.” Peter’s hands come to a rest on his stomach, they rise and fall with his breaths, “no matter what I do you want more.” 

You nod enthusiastically, he’s starting to understand. 

“Yes, so yes. What can you give me?” 

His eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t know what you want. 

“I don’t… what do you want?” 

You grind down on his belt line, his hands shoot to your hips, this was new territory. You’ve just started to grind on him the past week and he still can’t fully process it, he’s never had a feeling like it before and he knows that he’s gonna get a hard on if you keep doing that, and that’s really new territory. 

“Baby,” he groans the word but it’s a warning. 

“This, can I have this?” You try to move again but his hold stops you, he’s using too much strength. 

Peter doesn’t want to rush you, not at all. But these last few weeks have been hard, you’ve been much more open with your words and touches and god it kills him. He’s been thinking about sex, how could he not with you all over him, but he needs to hold out strength for the both of you, and god damn if you don’t make that difficult. 

“If you keep doing that do you know what will happen?” 

Are you okay with this, is what he means, because if you go down this path there’s no coming back, it’s a whole new step, he’s okay with that but are you? 

You tilt your head at him, “I’ll cum?” 

Peter exhales through his nose harshly, his voice pinchy, “jesus christ.” 

“Is it okay if I take my bra off?” Your fingers were already behind your back, he’s been lucky enough to see them a few times but not in a situation like this one where he could get to inspect them and enjoy it. “If you want, but you don’t-” he stops speaking when you toss your bra to the ground. 

“Wanna take your pants off?” 

He looks at you, he’s fully clothed almost while you’re now sitting on top of him with only panties on, how did he get here? No pants means no more barriers, you wanted to feel him, all of him, when you dry humped him. 

“Do you want my pants off?” 

How does he not get it? You’re more than half naked on his lap begging for his touch, what did he think you wanted, a milkshake? 

“Peter, where’s your mind at?” 

“With what?” 

You rub your eyes, frustration would do no good here. “I need to know where you’re at with this, cause i’ve tried everything to make it known you make me really fucking horny.” His eyes widened, it was like he had a revelation of ‘girls can be horny too?’ and yeah, he did know that they could but he never imagined he could make someone horny, even if it was his girlfriend. And maybe he did understand a little of what you wanted but he also thought you were joking, that you were hinting at a hookup teasingly but, no you were serious. 

“I do?” 

Well that didn’t sound good, did he not share the same feelings? 

“I… Peter, do I even turn you on?”

The room spins, you’re on your back in a second, Peter holds your forearms to the bed. You couldn’t even take a breath in, that’s how quick he pinned you. He didn’t want you to think, for even a second, you didn’t turn him on. 

“Don’t ever ask that again, you turn me on more than you could even begin to imagine.” 

You giggle, “oh, do I? How much?” 

He kisses your cheek, “cold shower every time you leave.” 

“Then how come I never feel you get hard?” 

Peter takes his turn kissing down your neck, he nibbles a matching mark to his on your collarbone. “Threw you off before you could.” 

You hum when he nuzzles into your neck, he places a kiss to your cheek, you look at him over you. 

“Does that mean you’ll take off your pants?” 

He laughs, “yeah, baby. I’ll take off my pants.” 

Peter sits back to pull his shirt off, you take a moment to appreciate his body. You always feel like you don’t compliment him enough, “you’re pretty,” the words fall from your lips and he grins shyly, his hands working at pants button, he’s about to shimmy them off but you stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Peter’s hands freeze, you nod at his hands, “can I do it?” 

His hands fall away and you reach forward, tension thick the second you start to undress him. You never knew how heavy a moment could be until you had your hands in your boyfriend's waistline tugging them down, knowing it was so you could sit pretty on top of him and rock on his lap. 

You rope a leg over his waist and take mount, already pressing into him further than you’ve ever been, you give a teasing roll of your hips, your eyes shoot open and Peter throws his head back with a groan. 

You whisper at the same time, minds blown. “Woah.” 

[misctf]

Exploring the Tribes

“Dude! Way too much info.” Jeff made a face of disgust and took another swig of his beer, “I’m all for “love is love”, but I don’t wanna hear about your uhhh...”

“Look dude, it’s about time I get to brag. I’ve nearly fucked all the tribes on Grindr. On this vacation alone, bro.” Connor replied, “You and the rest of the guys get to brag about all the pussy you get, why can’t I...?”

“Damn I don’t know man. It’s just...” Jeff adjusted his cap and chugged the rest of his beer, “We’re on vacation with the rest of the bros. Of course we’re gonna talk about our scores.” Jeff smirked- with a body like his, he was scoring well, “I don’t doubt you’re getting plenty of dick. I just don’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to hear about that time you banged my sister, but here we are.”

Jeff smirked as he recounted the memory, “She has a great rack...” Connor punched his arm, “Fair I deserved that.”

“And I’m a top. I don’t take dick.”

“Whatever dude, can’t you just enjoy the beer?” Jeff sighed, “Besides, what the fuck is a tribe anyway?”

Connor chuckled, “Shit, I forget we make it complicated. It’s a way to describe gay guys. Well, at least their looks.” Jeff nodded, his mind drifting elsewhere, “Like, a bear is a hairy heavyset guy. A twink is usually more feminine and hairless. Like you.”

“Fuck off dude. Girls like it when my muscles are clean shaven.” Jeff shot back.

“Joking, you’re too muscular to be a twink.” Connor replied, “But dude, stay on topic. I’m so close to having fucked a guy in each tribe on this trip. Like just a few more. But I’ve had a really hard time finding an otter.”

Jeff chuckled, “That some kinda weird animal shit?”

“No, otters are like bears, but a lot skinnier.” Connor replied.

“And you want to hook up with one of these guys?” Jeff raised an eyebrow, “Skinny and hairy. What kinda guy would want that?” He flexed one of his biceps and grinned.  

“Well yeah, gotta complete the quest.” Connor shrugged, “But I haven’t come across one since we’ve been here.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff chuckled, “I have a deal for you. If I find you an otter, you gotta stop talking to me about this shit for the rest of the trip.”

Connor laughed, “Yeah, okay bro.”

“No seriously. I’m a great wingman! Remember Chet and that sorority girl with the slutty tattoo? That was all me, bro.”

“Alright dude. I’ll play.” Connor chuckled, “And how are you going to find this otter?”

Jeff shrugged, “Hairy and slim. Fuck dude, I’ll find ‘em in no time.”

Connor smirked and slapped his friend on the back, “Well I appreciate it, dude. But I think I’ve already found one.”

“No fucking way man, where?” Jeff asked, looking around the bar.

“You can’t miss him. He’s pretty slim.”

Jeff continued to look around, barely noticing as his muscles started to deflate. It started in his legs- his well sculpted calves becoming thin and petite. He inadvertently put a hand on his abs as he felt his muscle twist and contract, just before they deflated, leaving his toned abdomen flat. Connor smirked as he watched Jeff’s pecs follow suit- the muscle behind them atrophying at an alarming rate.  

“I’ll miss those.” Connor chuckled.

“What was the dude?”

“Nothing man.” Connor watched as Jeff seemed to shorten as his back muscles shrunk into nothingness, “You haven’t noticed him yet?” He watched as Jeff’s muscular arms thinned out- years of training at the gym gone within just a few minutes.

“No I haven’t.” Jeff chuckled, “You sure you’re not seeing things, bro?”

“No, he’ right there.” Connor insisted.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed and he stood up to try and get a better view. But he wasn’t used to his new frame and nearly fell over as he tried to balance himself, “Fuck dude, I need to lay off the drinks.” Jeff looked at his skinnier arms, staring at them closely. Connor sipped his drink, watching Jeff trying to make sense of it, “Shit... dude... I...I look small?”

“No way, I think you look perfect the way you are.” Connor said, guiding Jeff back to his chair. Jeff blushed at his friend’s touch.

“Sh-shit dude.” Jeff shook his head, “I uh...” Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t this skinny. As he looked closer at himself, he felt he was missing something. His pecs, his arms, his abs, “Fuck Connor, dude something is...”

“Dude stop distracting me! I’m trying to find that otter I was telling you about.” Connor smirked, “He has to be one of the hairiest guys I’ve seen.”

Jeff felt nauseous. With a grunt, he felt his skin come alive. It burned, only to be replaced by an itchiness that seemed to originate from each follicle of his clean-shaven skin. Relief came suddenly, but was short-lived. He watched with terrified eyes as hair emerged from the top of his bathing suit and traveled up his abdomen. The dark brown hair sprouting from his skin was curly and thick, moreso than anything he ever grew naturally. And as it climbed up his abdomen, thickening rapidly, it finally reached his pecs where it spread like wildfire.

“Ahhhhh.” Jeff moaned as he felt the hair climb around his ass and move up his back. Simultaneously, Jeff raised his hand to feel the thick beard forming along his face, “Connor, what the fuck?” He breathed out, sweat washing over his body and dampening his new fur. Connor grinned, yanking a clump of Jeff’s new arm hair.

“Dude, what’s the matter? You’re distracting me.” Connor complained, “Damn, if only you could see this otter now.” Jeff tensed as Connor rubbed a hand through the dense forest on his chest, “What did you say about guys who wear earrings?” Jeff winced in pain as his ears were stretched and two gauges embedded into his ear lobes, “Oh and remember that sorority girl? What did you say about her tattoos again?” Jeff winced again as tattoos carved themselves into his arms and legs, “And shit, what kinda guy would wear a speedo like that?” Jeff looked down at the yellow speedo that now barely covered his junk and hairy ass, “Oh right- according to you, those things would make someone gay and slutty, right?” Jeff’s eyes widened, “So I guess this otter I’m seeing must be a massive gay slut.”

“Wait! Connor! Please...” Jeff’s mouth went slack and his eyes widened as his brain was rewritten. His love for tits quickly vanished- replaced by a love for a man’s touch and dick, “Please... I...” Jeff winced as he remembered the best way to suck a man’s cock. A strategy that always got his hookup to cum, “I’m not...” His gym routine vanished from his brain. Cardio and squats. All to help keep his ass as fuckable as possible, “Connor...” Jeff felt himself fall forward, and for brief moment everything went dark. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself being supported by the strong arm of the man sitting across from him.

“Yo, you good?” Jeff looked up at the muscular man in front of him and grinned.

“All good hun!” Jeff giggled, tracing his hand along the man’s muscular arm. Fuck, how’d he get so lucky to find this stud?, “But I think I should lie down for bit.”

“I have a place in mind.” The man said with a grin.

“Oh yeah big guy?” Jeff leaned in and placed a hand against the man’s pec, “I need you to take me there. Right now.” He breathed. The man grinned and the two left the bar, walking quickly back to the man’s room, “My name is Jeffrey by the way.”

“Connor.” Connor replied, as the two entered the bedroom.

Jeffrey grinned as Connor threw him onto the bed. Clothes were quickly discarded. And soon, moans filled the empty room.

______________________________________________________________

Jeff groaned as he pushed himself out of bed, ‘Fuck,’ he thought, seeing the time on his phone, ‘I must’ve gotten wasted.’

His whole body ached, especially his ass. Probably fell on it while he was drunk, he figured. He wobbled to the bathroom and stared in the mirror- taking in his muscular frame and clean-shaven form. He smirked- even feeling like shit he still had his looks. He opened his phone to take a pic and cringed.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, “Who the fuck is that?” He stared at the newest saved picture in his phone. A hairy, slim man, “An otter...” He whispered.

There was a sudden knock at his door and he groaned. Shuffling over, he opened it to find Connor.

“Dude what’s up?” Connor chuckled, “Quite the night last night.”

 “Yeah, really? Fuck dude, I drank way too much. Check this out.” He showed Connor the picture, causing his friend to laugh, “I don’t know how it got on here.”

“You don’t remember?” Connor laughed, “Before you left, we took a whole bunch of selfies.”

Jeff groaned, “Hope he didn’t think I’d be into that.” He chuckled, “Shoot your shot, I guess.” He deleted the photo, “So I take it the night was successful?”  

Connor smirked, “Oh it was.” He winked. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again soon. He was begging for more.”

“Gross dude.” Jeff chuckled, “So is that it? Done with the quest?”

“Close dude, very close. Just a few more tribes left.” Connor grinned. Jeff felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked at Connor, a feeling of fear and excitement welling up from within the deepest part of his psyche, “So, wanna grab a drink?”

Jeff shrugged, “Sure, dude.”  

[gravehags]

let the devil in

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: OH THEY FUCKIN, PinV, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, improper timing of satanic prayer, lots of ooey gooey feelings, secondo being a real one, stelline the rat makes a brief return, sister imperator being unsettling as shit

Words: 6,803

Summary: You have just about had enough of dancing around one another. It's now or never.

a/n: bro writing this had me shaking THIS IS IT, THE BIG ONE god i hope it lives up to my hype

The remainder of your time off passes without incident - for better and for worse. 

Copia has been lovely - a perfect gentleman - but as much as you appreciate his sweet words and his kind heart, you’re left wondering why he hasn’t made any…advances towards you. When your kisses turn heated he shies away and you don’t pursue the issue, wondering if you’re just coming on too strong. Wondering if he regrets the evening you spent together on New Years Eve. You try not to let it get to you but every night you lie awake, staring up at the ceiling worried that he has regrets. Part of you - the part that sees the sincerity in his eyes when he dotes on you, the logical part - tells you that he’s just being cautious. The other part of you…well. That little parasite is constantly in your ear telling you he’s just being kind - too kind to rip the bandaid off and break it off with you. Back and forth these two sides play tug of war and you’re the one left to suffer in silence. And it’s not just your mind that suffers but your body. Your body aches for him, your fingers frantically pressing against your clit in a poor imitation of the curve of his cock. You crave his touch and are filled with sadness as you watch the bruises his fingers left on your thighs yellow and fade. You want to bring your concerns up to him but the fear that the awful little parasite in you has been right all along keeps your mouth shut. So you let him court you - bring you more flowers (dark red peonies this time, you dried the roses he gave you the moment they began to wilt and now the bundle hangs from your bedroom mirror), hold your hand on your daily walks, eat by your side - and hope that through sheer force of will he seeks out your embrace once more. You’re almost relieved when you start back at work again, able to keep your hands and mind busy with something other than your unsettling thoughts and anxiety-fraught fledgling relationship.

–

Copia feels as if he’s going mad.

Not from you, never from you but…his desire for you. The way his body and his mind relive the feel of your cunt pressed up against him, the heat and wet pushing against his clothed cock. He clenches his fist and shifts in his office chair, the wood creaking beneath him. He’s trying his best - his very best - to be good and sweet and docile for you. To treat you like he wants to, like he knows you deserve. But his want for you is all-consuming, dogging him day and night, in your presence and without it. He wants your body - wants to corrupt your body - true, but more than that he wants…you. Hungers for your soul, your love. Wants to crawl inside your veins and make a home in your heart. He’s told you he loves you, true, but would the extent of it scare you off? He’s torn by wanting to confess the darkest parts of his passion to you and keeping you at a safe distance, like a porcelain doll on a shelf. New Year's Eve left him reeling, dizzy even as he slept beside you that night and you curled into him. You’re so good to him - far better than he deserves - and he can feel the lust radiating off of you whenever your kisses become heated. The devil whispers for him to let go, let you untether that beast inside him that he tries so hard to muzzle. The chain that holds him back weakens day by day, every moment you give him that look from across the couch or the dinner table he’s closer to ruin.

Which leads him to today. 

You’ve popped by his office on your lunch break, standing by the windows and holding his hands in yours. 

“Come over to my place tonight?”

He’s about to answer when there’s a knock on the door and it swings open. When he sees Secondo standing there he drops your hands as if burned and takes a step away from you.

“Mi scusi, I’ve interrupted something,” Secondo turns to leave but Copia calls out.

“No, no. Eh, nothing interrupted. She was just leaving - weren’t you, signorina?”

He immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees you jolt as if slapped at the cold tone of his voice and the return of your old title. Secondo’s sharp gaze flicks back and forth between you and him but he remains silent.

“Y-yeah. Okay. Sorry, Secondo. Goodbye, Cardinal.”

Ouch. He deserves that. As does he deserve the way you leave and shut the door behind you without a second glance back to him. Anxiety sinks heavy in his stomach as he lowers himself to slump on the end of his desk. He nearly forgets his fratello is there when the imposing papa clears his throat.

“Che cazzo, stronzo?” he barks, making Copia wince and fold in on himself. He’s not sure if it’s wiser to play dumb or fess up to his feelings but judging by the steely look in Secondo’s eye, he’ll take nothing less but the truth.

“It’s…a long story.”

“No it isn’t,” Secondo snarls, stalking over to him and jabbing him in the chest with a long finger. “You’re being chicken shit, aren’t you?”

Leave it to Secondo to suss out the reality of the situation in a heartbeat. Copia shifts himself out of poking distance and rounds the desk to collapse in his chair.

“I…eh…sì.”

Secondo crosses his arms and stares down at him imperiously.

Copia reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, unsure of how much detail to give him. Judging from the look on Secondo’s face, he wants to hear all of it.

“So we…got together. The night of the Yule gathering. I walked her back to her rooms and we… eh…made out along the way. We got to her place and she invited me in and I…I wanted to treat her as she deserves, sì? Flowers, dates, chocolates, the whole shebang. So I told her that. Then she–”

His voice cracks and he clears his throat, the mere memory of the incident enough to rile him up.

“She tells me she’s a virgin. A virgin, Secondo. Sathanas, I nearly grabbed her and had her in the damn hallway.”

Secondo makes a noise, his eyebrows rocketing up. He’s clearly not unmoved by this information either.

“So after that I…I try my best - my fucking best - to keep my composure. And maledetto inferno she did not make it easy, the little minx. And then I asked her out on a date. Our first. We went to Lucia’s on New Year’s Eve - came back, opened a bottle of champagne and well. Things escalated.”

“Did you…?”

“No,” Copia says hastily, “I mean…we didn’t do nothing but she remains ah…intact. Since then I-I don’t know what to do. The way she looks at me, the way she kisses me, touches me…”

“Fratello,” Secondo says, leaning against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankle, “forgive me but I’m not seeing the problem with a beautiful, young virgin desiring you.”

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Copia says, “it’s not what she wants that scares me…it’s what I want. Secondo, I love her more than anything, desire her more than anything but…I’m afraid if she sees the extent of my passion, my obsession with her I’ll…I’ll drive her away. Like everyone else, sì? So I restrain myself at every turn.”

Secondo nods, quiet for a moment before speaking carefully.

“Copia, have you considered telling her any of this? That perhaps maybe sharing your fears with her - someone who loves you very deeply in return - will help alleviate your angst? Not to mention you’re probably driving the poor girl mad with lust, vecchio cane.”

Copia snorts and Secondo smiles.

“You two were so blind for so long, unwilling to see the feelings you had for one another when to everyone else it was obvious. She was made for you, and you for her. I’ve seen you chase after a few people over the years, fratello, and you looked at none of them the way you look at her. So tell her. Show her, for fuck’s sake. You know full well how many in this abbey would kill to be in your position, huh? Terzo, for one, which is why this stays between us, sì? You need to make your move before he catches wind of her…condition.”

Copia nods vigorously, heaving a deep sigh and tipping his head against the back of his chair.

“Grazie, Secondo. For listening, as you always have.”

Secondo nods solemnly before pushing himself off the wall and making to leave.

“W-why did you come in originally?” Copia asks.

Secondo shrugs and winks his white eye.

“Brotherly intuition. Ciao, Copia.”

With a little wave the papa is gone and Copia sighs.

He’d come see you tonight. It was now or never.

–

You make sure to stay out of Copia’s way the remainder of the day, more confused than angry. When he’s with you he’s hot and cold - professing his love but ultimately shying away from your touch - and when you’re around others, well. With Terzo he’s possessive, with Secondo he’s jumpy. What is going on in that head of his? Well. Doesn’t matter. You’ve already made your mind up to go to him tonight and sort things out. He’s got confession duty until eight which gives you plenty of time to…prepare. A shiver runs through your body at the implication that if you play your cards right, tonight could be the night. Perhaps…you look at the small bundle of keys on the lanyard around your neck, sorting through them to find a specific one. He gave you the key to his rooms last week. Perhaps he would be more ah…pliant…to your desires were you to simply be…waiting for him. You giggle, actually giggle aloud, in your empty office. He’s not going to know what hit him.

You’re distracted the rest of the day, head filled with plans and scenarios, and you move through your tasks mechanically. When Sister Imperator drops by to give you a heads up about another painting she bought at auction she gives you a curious look. She’s been kind of weird around you since after the break - looking at you shiftily during meetings - and you’d be unsettled by it were your head not already filled with other things. When she turns to leave your office, she casually tosses “why don’t you take the rest of the day, hmm?” over her shoulder. You sputter, baffled as to how she seemed to know, and she turns around to give you a tight smirk before leaving with her red stilettos tapping on the marble. You’re holding your breath watching her retreat down the hall and you look at your watch.

3:21 PM

You’ve got hours but there’s a lot you have to cram in before then. First to head to the dining hall and wolf down a meal, then to Primo for a restock of your…meds, then to your quarters to shower and figure out what you’re going to wear. 

Better get going.

By the time you finish your tasks and return to your quarters, it’s 5:36 PM. You were waylaid by a group of siblings after you left Primo’s greenhouse who politely asked you to help them take pictures for the Ministry’s social media account. Dropping your keys and phone on the side table, you strip and leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom. Your shower is swift but you still make sure to use your best smelling products. You go through your skincare routine and step out to look at the clock next to your bed.

6:17 PM

Shit. You feel like you're pushing it and you’re glad you ultimately decided not to wash your hair tonight. Padding out into your bedroom, you open your drawers and rifle through them. You wanted something that gave the impression you were…his for the taking. Something soft and well…virginal. When you pull a knee length cream colored silk nightgown out of your pajama drawer you make a loud noise of appreciation. A little wrinkled, maybe, but you doubt he would care. Tossing your towel on your bed you pull the slip over your head, shivering at the touch of the cool material. Your eyes travel to the top of your dresser and you spot your perfume - the one you know he loves - and give yourself a few spritzes before touching his gold grucifix on your collarbone. That should do it. But now you have to get from your quarters to his and somehow you think doing so in a thin nightgown isn’t the wisest decision so you grab your robe and wrap it snugly around you. Stepping into your slippers you walk out of your room and grab your phone and key, taking a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

The journey up the two floors to Copia’s quarters passes without incident, unless you count the siblings who saw your attire and gave you funny looks. Your hands are shaking - actually shaking - as you reach his door and unlock it, stepping inside. It’s dark.

“Shit,” you hiss, fumbling for the switch. When you manage to locate it and flip it on, the room is bathed in a soft yellow glow. His quarters are nice - not that yours are a dump, by any means - but the level of decorative detail has you inspecting every corner of his living space. Looking around you remove your robe and set it on a chair by the door. When you hear a few squeaks you shuffle over to the large rat cage in the corner, cooing at the little faces peering up at you. Stelline stands on her hind legs, nose snuffling in your direction.

“Hello, little loves,” you murmur, “I’ve got to be nosy for a second so you stay put, okay?”

When Stelline lets out a particularly loud squeak it makes you laugh so loud you clap your hand to your mouth. Before any more objections can be made you head to the other side of the room, past the wall of leaded glass windows, and through a doorway on the left. A small kitchen. Cute. Which means the other doorway leads…your heart thuds as you approach the darkened alcove and turn on yet another light switch. 

Copia’s bedroom.

It feels forbidden to be in this space and you step in cautiously, expecting at any moment to get busted for breaking and entering. It’s a decent size room - bigger than yours - with dark wood paneling and tapestries on the walls. There’s an empty fireplace on the left and a large dresser, as well as a high backed chair. There’s a doorway which undoubtedly leads to his bathroom and…there it is. A large four-poster bed with dark red hangings and matching covers. You swallow thickly, stepping over to it. This could be it, you think, running your hands over the duvet. This could be the place where y—wait, what’s that?

There’s a scrap of black peeking out from under his pillow and curious, you reach for it. When you pull the item out, your jaw drops.

Those. Those are yours. Your…

“That little pervert!” you crow, veins flooded with warmth at the thought of what he did with your underwear. Your dirty underwear. Filthy man…filthy delicious man. Well who are you to deprive him of his simple pleasures, you think as you stuff the garment back under the pillow. Should everything go right tonight you’ll tease him about it…afterwards. Shaking your head you look down at your phone.

7:21 PM

Still got about forty minutes to kill, assuming confession doesn’t go over. Suddenly you’re kicking yourself for rushing all day and walk over to the chair to plop down. Hopefully a little time on your phone will pass the minutes.

You’re on your…how many games of solitaire was this?...when you hear the distinct sound of a key in a lock. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you set your phone aside and grip the arms of the chair. When he enters and shuts the door behind him, making his weird little noises, you can’t help but smile. 

“Buonasera, i miei bambini!”

You can hear him scoot over to his rats, sighing deeply. He talks to them for a few moments before his footfalls begin to approach where you are. He’s got his biretta in hand as he spots you and stands frozen in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Hey,” you say, slowly rising out of the chair.

It takes him a moment to speak, too distracted by your outfit.

“Cara…” he breathes, setting his biretta down on his dresser, “I-I was going to come to you tonight.”

“Hmm, well,” you shrug, “beat you to it.”

There’s a ringing silence between the two of you, your heart thundering against your ribs. You take a step towards him.

“Copia, you don’t have to hold back. You don’t have to…have to hide from me. I love you. You know that.”

“Sì,” he whispers, “but do you know how much I love you? How I would do anything for you - to you - if you let me? Dolcezza I–”

“So what if I let you?” you ask, taking another step towards him. “What if I want you to? What if I’ve always wanted you to? What if you’re the only one I’ve ever–” you take two more steps towards him until you’re a breath apart, “--wanted to?”

He exhales shakily, breath stirring the hairs around your face.

“I’m giving you permission, Copia,” you breathe, “I want you to take, and take, and take from me until I have nothing left to give. I’m yours, my love. I’m–”

You don’t finish your declaration - don’t get a chance. Copia lunges at you like an animal, wrapping his arms around you drawing you snug against his chest with his lips pressed against yours. He’s never kissed you like this before - like a starving man - lips and teeth and tongue mingling with yours and peppered with groans and growls. He’s holding you so tight he squeezes the breath from your lungs as he nips at your throat, ravenous.

“Mine,” he growls, “amata mia. I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.”

When he licks along your carotid you gasp, and gently push at him.

“Let me undress you,” you breathe as you pant, “please Copia I want to see you.”

Copia pauses and pulls away to rest his forehead against yours before nodding. When he takes a step away from you, you mourn the warmth of his body.

“Go on, amore mio,” he murmurs.

“I-I don’t know where to start,” you confess with a smile. He offers his hands out to you.

“Here.”

This act alone is far more intimate than anything the two of you have done before. You know how he is about his hands and when you reach for them your own shake. Your fingers slide up the palm and wrist, taking the zipper and pulling. Gently, you ease each finger out of its sheath and pull the leather away. His hand is…beautiful. Large, freckled - like the rest of him - with a dusting of fine brown hair and–

“What happened?” you ask quietly, index finger tentatively brushing against the scar tissue in the center. “Copia is that–”

“Sì,” he answers simply and you reach for his other hand to repeat the process. You want to know, want to ask why but stay silent and save your curiosity for another time. Once the other one is bare you take them both in your hands and look at him.

“Beautiful,” you say softly, keeping your eyes on his as you raise each palm to your lips and place a firm, lingering kiss at the center. Some of the raw hunger leaves his eyes - replaced with utter adoration.

“What’s next?”

“This,” he points to his grucifix. It takes you a minute of peering at his pellegrina before you see where the bejeweled accessory is hooked. Delicately you detach it and set it on the dresser.

“Next?”

“My fascia,” Copia whispers, gesturing to his belt. When you loosen it from his waist, the long red material sliding through your hands, he watches you intently. You fold the garment up neatly and set it aside.

“Cassock?” you ask.

He nods, guiding your fingers to his neck. Each button feels like an eternity and by the time you reach his waist he can sense your quiet frustration.

“We can cheat with this one,” he murmurs, grabbing the sides and inching them up his body before pulling the garment over his head. When the red wool falls in a pile on the floor, you regard it fondly.

“I don’t know if I can wait any longer, amore,” he says, standing before you in his clerical shirt, suspenders, and trousers.

“One last thing, please,” you say before darting away and into the bathroom. You rummage around in the linen closet for a moment before pulling out a rag and turning on the sink. When you return to him with the soaked cloth he looks perplexed until you raise it to his face.

“If I’m going to see you naked,” you say, gently wiping away the paint on his right eye, “I want all of you naked.”

He chuckles, hands behind his back as you remove every bit of the Cardinal you can find. When you finish, he takes the rag from you and tosses it to the floor.

“On the bed, amata,” there’s a darkness, a self-assuredness in his tone that would feel almost foreign to you if you hadn’t heard it first on New Year’s Eve. It makes a shiver run down your spine as you step over to his bed. He follows, toeing off his shoes and reaching down to remove his socks, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you clamber onto the red duvet. He pauses at the foot of the bed and slides his suspenders off his shoulders so they hang by his sides before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his clerical shirt to expose a pale sternum covered in more fine brown hair. You blink up at him before taking a deep breath, sitting up on your knees, and pulling the nightgown over your head. The garment falls to the rug in a whisper and there you are. Bare. Your heart is in your throat as you lean backwards against the pillows, presenting yourself to him.

Copia doesn’t look hungry anymore. 

He looks feral.

When he presses his knee on the bed and slowly begins to crawl towards you, your breathing comes in pants. He urges your legs apart, spreading you open for him and eyeing the thatch of curls at the juncture of your thighs before situating himself between your knees.

“Dolcezza,” he growls, bare hands ghosting over your hips without actually touching you, “will you join me in prayer?” 

Your mouth falls open.

“N-now?” His eyes fall to the heaving of your breasts as you continue to take ragged breaths. The drag of his gaze along every dip and swell of your body makes your face heat up.

“Sì, amore mio. For when else am I to give thanks to Sathanas for this most blessed gift? What better place than right–” he touches your knees, making you jump, “--here?” His hands slide up your thighs as he shuffles forward to loom over you, breath dancing with yours. Mismatched eyes bore into yours, the corner of his lips curled slightly in a wicked smile.

You nod.

“Unholy Father,” he begins before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is unhurried, decadent even, and when his tongue slides hotly along yours you whimper into his mouth. The chuckle that reverberates into you has your body arching into his, eager for his touch. You think he’s about to do just that when he pulls away, a lewd string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

“Today I give thanks for this–” he inhales deep through his nose “--glorious favor you have bestowed upon me, a most faithful son.”

He lowers himself towards you once more, to press open-mouthed kisses along your throat. With some hesitancy, you bring your hand up to his head and drag your fingers through his hair, causing him to groan. His tongue traces a path across your clavicle - briefly pausing to kiss the gold grucifix that rests there - and continues down your sternum. 

“For what greater honor–” he pauses to suck at the swell of your breast, “--can you provide than an eager–” his lips drag torturously close to where you need him, “--willing–” his tongue darts out to graze the taut bud, “sweet–” he hovers over your nipple, eyes trained up on yours, and his hot breath makes you shiver, “--virgin.” When he finally, finally lowers his lips to slip the hardened bud into his mouth you let out a keening moan. He sucks hungrily, teeth teasing at it and tongue soothing the catch of bone on flesh. 

“Copia, fuck,” you breathe, fingers buried in his hair to cradle him against you, “mmm just like that. Just like that, love.”

He rewards the endearment by bringing his hand up to your other breast and cupping the soft flesh in his large palm. When his thumb brushes over your nipple your hips buck again, and you can feel him smile against your skin. He wetly pulls off of you and you let out an undignified whimper at the loss.

“I have her heart,” he says, and you’re wildly confused for a moment before it dawns on you that he’s not done praying. The realization makes your head fall back against his pillows, your tongue sliding out to wet your lips. He’s abandoned your breasts now and has slid further down, hands on your waist. 

“I have her mind,” he places a soft kiss to the curve of your belly once - and again - before sliding down even further.

“Her soul–” he kisses the underside of your stomach once more, his mustache tickling you, “--I’m working on—“ 

When he glances up at you with a grin you smile back, deliriously enchanted, “--and her body…” 

His breath stirs the curls between your legs and your heart pounds. “...Is now mine.” The low, almost sinister tone of his voice makes you gasp, knowing full well what comes next. 

“Nema.”

“N-nema.”

He bows his head in reverence and taking his thumbs, spreads you open and drags his tongue through your slick folds. The sensation sends a shockwave through you, your back arching off the mattress as you squirm.

“Copia!”

His hands fly to your hips, gripping and kneading the flesh as he continues to work his tongue against you. He’s content to lap at your entrance for a couple of minutes before dragging the muscle upwards slightly and–oh. When he curves the flat of his tongue along your swollen clit he really has to hold you down. Your fingers cling to the silvered brown strands on his head, holding him against you and through your lowered lids you can see his hips minutely grinding against the mattress. You’re laughing, high and breathy, as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you, better than your fingers or any vibrator. When he moans into your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh you gasp.

“Fuck, my love, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, Copia please.”

He grins against you, mouth returning to gather the slick at your entrance and the tip of his long, large nose grinding against your clit. The sensation is overwhelming as your body thrashes and, you think deliriously, he’s definitely going to leave marks with how firmly he’s holding you. When he pulls away from you - no doubt to catch his breath - he leans up on his elbows a little and gives you a wolfish grin. 

“Dolcezza, what a sacrifice you make. Ave Sathanas.”

You laugh, grinning down at him as he returns to his task. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, again and again, you know it’s over. You’re babbling nonsense, sweet little words of praise at your lover, as you feel that familiar wave begin to crest inside you.

“Copia, oh fuck Copia I’m so close honey.”

He hums around you, hips continuing to rut into the duvet as he devours you. When you no longer have the ability to form words, you moan, higher and higher as you grip his hair and the covers. He pulls away slightly, making you cry out in desperation but when he returns he gently nudges the tip of his finger inside you. It’s not enough to make any real impact but the knowledge that he’s simply toying with you as you thrash below him has you letting out breathy, hysterical laughter.

“So good for your Cardinal,” he pants, and when you meet his gaze you can feel yourself clenching around his finger. “So tight for me and I haven’t even filled you yet. Tell me - did you use your own fingers while thinking of me?”

“Copia pl–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastises, licking his lips. “I won’t give you what you want until you answer me, amore mio.”

You’ve only seen glimpses of this side of him before - hints at what lurked below the surface but now that you’re being fully exposed to this Copia - self-assured and smug in his power - your hunger for him increases tenfold.

“Yes, I-I did.”

“How many?”

He asks the question with all the casualness of asking for the price of apples at the farmer’s market.

“D-depends. Sometimes two. Sometimes thre–ah!”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s easing a second finger into you, stretching you open.

“My fingers are much bigger than yours, amore,” he says as he begins to slide himself in knuckle deep. “We’ll start with two today to eh, warm you up, sì? Would you like that?”

He’s right - his fingers are a lot bigger than yours and when he pauses to gently crook them inside you your jaw falls open in a desperate moan.

“Y-yes. Yes! Fuck, Copia just like that. Please, my love, please.”

“You beg so prettily for me, dolcezza,” he growls, lowering his face to your cunt once more, “keep going.”

The sounds he draws out of you as he licks and sucks and fucks his fingers into you are unlike any you’ve made before. Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you wonder if people passing by in the hallway can hear you but that only makes your hips buck into his touch even harder. You do as he asks and begs, promising him anything, anything as long as he doesn’t stop, please don’t stop. When you finally come apart, your muscles burn and you scream his name - fuck now you know someone heard that - as he presses against that sweet spot inside you. You don’t even notice him removing his mouth and pulling back so he can watch your face contort as you pant and sweat against his pillows. Your vision has gone blurry as you stare at the canopy above you, only somewhat aware of him sliding his fingers out of you and pulling back. You look up at him, sitting on his haunches looking both smug and full of affection, as he licks at the mess on his hand.

“C’mere,” you say, crooking a finger at him. He obliges with a smile, and when his face approaches yours you grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for a slow, wet kiss. 

“Mm–like the taste of yourself, ragazza mia? Filthy thing.”

You can feel his cock nudging you through his pants and you grind upwards against him. He growls into your mouth before pulling away.

“Don’t finish me before I get started, amata,” he purrs, leaning down to run his tongue along your jaw.

You laugh.

“That wasn’t you getting started?” you marvel, and he pulls back to give you a lewd wink. “Take these off, my love. I want to see all of you.”

He nods, sliding backwards off the bed to stand. You watch him intently as he finishes unbuttoning and untucking his clerical shirt before unfastening his pants and sliding them and his underwear down to step out of them. He’s…gorgeous. You always knew he was but seeing him like this - bare and freckled, the brown hair on his body abundant - you sigh. Something dreamy and romantic sits on your tongue until your eyes travel to the juncture of his thighs and your mouth runs dry. He crawls on his hands and knees towards you, settling in between your legs and stroking his thick, reddened cock.

“You, eh. You like it?”

You nod dumbly, unable to form anything coherent. His body is clearer now in this light - he’s got a scar on the right side of his abdomen and on his left pectoral you see–

“A tattoo?!” you splutter loudly. 

The self-satisfied smile on his face drops as he lets go of his cock and it bobs in front of him.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation hits you at once - the two of you nude, you being a virgin, him with his tattoo, both of you in this fucking Satanic abbey - and you tilt your head back and laugh. He growls and throws himself forward, caging you in underneath him.

“I show you my cock and you laugh?” he chastises you, mustache twitching as he fights back a smile. “Have some dignity, piccola vergine mia.”

Your laughter dies and you take in the flushed face of the man above you, strands of hair falling into his eyes. 

“I love you.”

His eyes get misty, as do yours, as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Amata mia, dolcezza mia, vita mia, tutto mio. Ti amo. Per sempre.”

He leans down and places a sweet, soft kiss on your cheek before nuzzling into it.

“Are you ready?”

You cup his jaw and run your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Have your wicked way with me, Cardinale,” you smile, your hips shifting up against his. The drag of his wet cock against the heat of you makes him groan.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, leaning back and taking himself in hand. You spread your legs wider, still soaked from your earlier activities, and present yourself to him. When his cockhead prods at your entrance, you jump and his eyes fly to yours for confirmation. You nod and gently, slowly, he pushes himself in. There’s no pain, only pressure, as he slides in, his breathing ragged in an effort to maintain control. When he bottoms out, your bodies flush to one another, you pant up at him.

“Y-you okay?” he stammers, clearly trying his hardest to restrain himself. You watch a drop of sweat slide down his temple.

“Copia,” your voice is calmer than it’s been all evening, “don’t hold back.”

You feel his arms wobble on either side of you at your words as he slides nearly all the way out of you and pushes back in. He repeats the action, each thrust gaining more force than the last. The feel of him stretching you is divine, hypnotic, and watching him slowly come apart above you even more so. He’s moaning desperately with each slide of his cock, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“That’s it, baby,” you breathe, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

When you experimentally clench around him he whines, his hands seeking yours to entwine your fingers. He fucks into you a little harder, little deeper with a shift of his hips, making you arch your back and press your breasts against him.

“S-so good,” he whimpers, “so tight, amore. So–ah–sweet for me, always.”

All you can do is moan in response as he jerks against you. You’re full - so deliciously full of him - and wildly you wonder how you went this long without him. This man that you adored so deeply - who adored you back - who always cared, always listened. You can feel tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist as tight as you possibly can. His movements are limited now by your actions but you don’t care - all you care about is keeping the two of you joined as close as possible.

“Amore, amore, amore,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. Despite his thrusts no longer being quite as deep, they are no less forceful.

“Thank you,” you manage to eke out, “thank you. Vita mia. Mondo mio. You’re perfect.”

He chuffs out a noise between a sob and a pant, clearly moved by your use of language. The snap of his hips picks up and you can feel that pressure building inside of you once more. 

“Copia,” you whimper, “Copia I’m close, I’m so close, don’t stop. Please, my love.”

His fingers tighten in yours, palms slick with sweat and you feel yourself falling, falling. Your cunt spasms around him as his thrusts become wild, erratic and you feel wave upon wave of pleasure spreading from your core through your limbs and into your fingertips. It’s different from your usual orgasms - less violent, less frantic - but no less intense. You can feel the tears sliding down into your hair as you buck up against him, desperate to wring out every last moment of the feeling.

“Cara,” Copia’s voice is hoarse, “I’m–I’m going–”

“Let go. Show me how much you love me, Copia.”

Your command is all the permission he needs and lets out a low, broken moan of your name as his hips spasm into yours and you feel his seed pulse inside of you. Idly, you think about how glad you are that you visited Primo before this. You look up at the man on top of you and reach up to push his hair out of his eyes. His eyes are bright, white eye glowing, as he shakes and struggles to hold himself up. Gently, you ease him to the side, making sure to keep the two of you joined as he collapses next to you. You’re simply not ready to let go yet. The two of you tremble in each other’s arms, content to bathe in the heavy emotion. Your tears have dried and now a calm washes over you.

“Hey,” you murmur, fingers raking through Copia’s sweaty hair. He’s watching you carefully - every dart of your eyes and twitch of your cheeks - as if he’s anticipating something.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “So was that, eh. Satisfactory?”

You snort and tug lightly at his hair.

“I think I can now say I’ve been thoroughly and successfully ravished, Cardinal. This must be quite a feather in your cap. You’ve made your Unholy Father proud.”

Now it’s his turn to snort.

“Just be thankful no one else found out about your, eh, former condition. You’d have had clergy and siblings and ghouls all lined up for you.”

“Oh,” you begin with a not-so-innocent tone, “so that’s why you romanced me, huh? Wanted first dibs?”

“Cara, no,” Copia says, deadly serious all of a sudden, “this isn’t–I would never–”

You laugh, dragging your fingers through his chest hair.

“My love, it’s been almost a year, I thought you’d be used to my stupid jokes by now.”

“Ah!” he rolls his eyes and waves at you dismissively, making you laugh even harder.

You finally have to separate, his softened cock sliding out of you as you push backwards. When you try to swing your legs over the bed and stand a hand wraps around your bicep and hauls you back down to bounce on the mattress.

“And where do you think you’re going, signorina?”

“Well I was gonna go pee and then–”

Quick as a cat, he rolls onto you, grinning down at you.

“Bellezza mia,” he purrs, “I hope you didn’t make plans for the next few days. We have, eh, lots of time to make up for. And you,” he leans down and runs his tongue over your pulse point, feeling it thunder against your skin, “have so much to learn.”

When the two of you text Sister Imperator with suspiciously matching illnesses the next morning, she smiles to herself. 

All in Lucifer’s plan.

[ktjislove1119]

‧₊˚🖇️✩ tiktok trends they'd do with you

pairing : p1harmony x seventh! member -> i think its giving way more romantic than platonic but anywho!

rating : fluffy

yoon keeho : disco - surf curse

— wants to do a really cute one with you.

— it’s cute the way he asks you to do it, too. you’re chilling in the studio, working on some things for piwon and he knocks gently on the door and only entering when he hears you “come in” whoever was behind the door.

— he chills with you for a couple of minutes before “stumbling” (he had it saved to his favorites and was just trying to not make it obvious to you that he wanted to do it) across one of the tiktoks and starts cooing over it, without showing you, of course. because then when you just hear him “aww-ing” over a random thing on his phone, it makes you intrigued to watch it.

— then he shows it to you and waits for you to say something about how cute it is, and his smile only widens when you do agree and say that the couple in the vid was cute.

“so let’s do it!” he exclaims excitedly, smacking your arm to get you up.

“right now? kyo, i don’t look good,” you complain, rolling your head onto the headrest, but he’s just shaking his head.

”what are you talking about? you look so, boyfriend material, c’mon, get up!” he eggs you on, pulling on the tip of your hoodie, “you’re even wearing a hoodie and sweats, you look good.”

you roll your eye, not believing him, “no, i want to look good,”

“but i want to do it now,” the whine in his voice is hard to say no to, making you groan and get up out of your comfortable chair. he cheers quietly, hugging you by the waist and then setting up the phone to rest against your monitor, being the perfect distance away from you two to get a good angle and view.

“wait how does it even go,” you murmur, going to grab his phone and rewatch the video. but he stops you and starts simply explaining it, in grand detail. “hold on, is that your first time seeing the video or no?”

“sh, sh, just copy what i do,” he brushees off your assumption with a cheeky grin before demonstrating how to do it properly.

the tiktok took maybe a total of ten minutes to film, only because you two kept breaking out into laughter in the midst of filming it. at the end of the tiktok, before the seconds were up, he grabbed you into a tight hug and almost made you crash into your desk with the strong force. this made you both die of laughter for a couple minutes, watching back the footage and realizing you can clearly see the panic in your eyes as you guys almost fall down.

”that is a really cute trend,” you comment, now walking back to the dorms as he scrolls through the comments of the video that you two had just posted. “what are they saying?”

“they’re saying how handsome you look,” he says, in a matter-of-fact voice, bumping his shoulder with yours. “and also how we are the best duo in p1harmony,”

“well, don’t let intak hear that, or else we won’t hear the end of it,” you warn, opening the door tot he lobby of the dorm building, “he’s probably even made that we did the trend without telling the others about it,”

“probably,” keeho agrees, throwing his arm around your shoulder, “but there’s nothing he can do about it, haha,”

and truth be told, intak was sitting in the living room looking like a kicked puppy with the video playing on repeat from his phone in front of him.

“when i say this is my favorite duo in piwon I MEAN IT!!!”

“the way kyo just straight up tackled him….no ones taking him from u bro chill”

“theyre both giving boyfriends ( i need them BOAF immediately )”

choi taeyang - “wait!! they don’t love you like i love you! wait!!! they don’t love you like i love you!”

— i’m telling you this guy is all for the tiktok trends that are fun and whimsy.

— i imagine you two would be late as fuck on the trend since he doesn’t use tiktok much, but when he did see it when he was scrolling once, he wanted to try it out because he thought it was funny.

— shows it to you and is surprised to find out that it’s an old trend, but that doesn’t deter him since he still wants to do it with you duhh

— unlike keeho, very straight up with telling you that he wants to do it. he thinks its funny and entertaining anyway, plus you two are probably gonna laugh your asses off filming it.

“wait, how do you even move your hips that fast?” he asked, inspecting the video as if he had to study it for an exam.

“there’s a setting, it’s 3 times the speed, so it sounds slow when you film, but it’ll speed up the video…they can’t actually move that fast, taeyang,” he slow blinks at the explanation, pursing his lips and noddnig his head as if he were impressed.

“technology…”

“what?” you burst out laughing, taking the phone from his hand and then setting it up for you two. the timer on, the speed setting being properly set, you made sure that everything would have gone fine.

and it would have! if it weren’t for you two breaking out into laughter after each “wait!!” it was just so funny, the way the sound was slowed down and how you had to time your movement with the sound. it had you guys retaking it like five times before you were satisfied with the product. theo’s face was bright red after the entire ordeal.

your guys hair was messy because you two were doing the dance so aggressively and plus the fact you had to do it five times over. when you finally watched the finished product, he was slapping your arm at how funny the two of you looked. it was fun and theo definitely didn’t regret asking you to do the dance with him because it made you two laugh so hard.

“theo really put his all into this shit LMAFOAO”

“you can see how tired they are…how many takes this did this take [name] and theo be honest”

“not theo almost tipping [name] over with how aggressive his dancing was”

choi jiung - tuberão te amo

— okay wait he would eat this shit up. he thinks the dance is so fun and cool + the fact it looks like you guys are “versing” each other make shim even more eager to try it out with you.

— probably saw seba and fernanda do it and was like wait they’re really funny, but also really good….me and [name] are both really funny and really good, we should do it together :DDD hence him walking into your dorm room late at night with the proposition.

— obviously, you were down because hello it’s funny and the excited look on jiung’s face was just too cute to say no to.

it only takes you two a couple of watches to get the dance down (goated). the first time you guys did the dance, jiung accidentally slapped your face with his palm since he was so enthusiastic and excited about the dance. plus the timing was a little off, thus resulting in you guys taking a break for a couple minutes to make sure your face was okay.

“i am so sorry,” he apologized in between breathy laughs, making you slap his chest.

“you don’t even sound sorry, jiung, shut up,” he laughed once again, that high pitched one that makes him fall to his knees. he held onto you to prevent himself from falling over. “let’s just do it again, oh my god,” you say, letting your face go and hoping that you wouldn’t be red or swell up later.

“i’m sorry, i’ll buy your favorite snacks after this,” he muses, a playful grin still on his face. he grabs the phone, saving the draft that showed him slapping your face, giggling as he did so. while you just smacked him again, telling him to get the next take ready already.

it didn’t take many more tries after that, occasional slip ups, but they were corrected in the next take anyway. by the time you two were finished, you both were passionately singing the song and rewatching your tiktok over and over.

“that dance was actually really fun,” you breathe out, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, jiung joining you. he sat close, but not on top of you (a habit almost all the other members had). you could feel his body mimicking the dance moves every now and then, making you smile at his behavior. after a couple more rewatches, he showed it to you with a hopeful smile.

“i can post it?”

“of course, ji, it looks really good, plus funny,” you smile, making him nod in agreement and then hit the “share” button the tiktok. he leaned his head against your shoulder, in exhaustion as well as just wanting to share some skinship. in a couple of mere seconds, comments from p1ece were rolling in, which you were both reading and laughing at.

“chocochip dads ATE THIS UPPPP!!!” “don’t him em too hard with that reverse, jiung!!”

“this is acc so hilarious, they’re so into it omg”

hwang intak - idk the name of it so imma just describe it, it’s where usually the girl stands still and her bf walks into frame and just casually picks her up (literally sweeps her off of her feet) and continues walking on until they’re out of frame, carrying her.

— he thinks the trend is so cute and romantic and wants to do it with you so badly.

— even goes as far as making it in the form of a small compilation!! he plans it out, so that each time it’s a new cut, you guys are in a new place. films it during one of your guys’ world tours and thinks of it as also a cute gift to p1ece.

— p1ece get to see you guys in their own cities, as well as your comfortability with each other, and he gets to literally sweeps you off of your feet each time he films…obviously, he’s going to see it as a win-win.

“what should the audio be?” intak thinks out loud, scrolling through the saved audios that were on the account, furrowing his brow, “nothing is cute enough,” he whines, walking over to you and waiting for you assistance.

“we can just leave the audio as it is, or add it in later,” you suggest, leaning into his side and looking at the ones he was scrolling past, “kyo always saves so many to use later and never ends up using them,”

he only sighs in response, finally settling on there being no audio (for now). he sets the time limit to 10 minutes, for some reason, and goes to prop up the phone far away. you were currently in chicago for tour, the view behind you being the easily recognizable architecture of the bridges as well as buildings. you two were near the water, rather than being on the bridges itself, so the view was really pretty.

“so you’re the one coming into frame?” you clarify, standing back and looking at the camera.

“yeah,” he smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, “you ready?”

“if you are,” you say in return.

he sets the timer to 10 seconds, to give you guys enough space to get ready, then steps back. you watch the numbers tick, smiling at the way intak was excitedly waiting. when it began filming, you played the simple role of just standing there and waiting. then when intak finally came into frame, he very easily picked you up with his one arm and continued on walking as if you weighed nothing.

you yelped at the strong arm around you, making him look at you with the most fond smile. then he settled you down, aggressively kissing the top of your head, before walking off to check on the footage.

the same process repeats over for each city you guys stop over, until the video is over a minute long. he doesn’t waste a second before posting it, eager to see what p1ece had to say. he’s giggling in your bed for the rest of the night, even kicking his feet up and down, as he lays beside you and reading the comments.

“it’s giving boyfriends, if i can’t have [name] i guesssss intak can”

“they look so comfortable omg their fits are so cute”

“i love the way it was a different city each time, they’re so cutteeee”

haku shota - the bow trend, wants you to put the bow on him and vice versa

— shota is a fellow bow enthusiast, so when he saw the trend, he really wanted to do it with you.

— thinks its so cute, wants to smother you in bows and of course you let him.

— lets you choose where to put your bows on him, giggling the entire time because of how cute he thinks it is.

“here?” he asks, wide boba eyes looking at you for approval. you nod your head, watching as his fingers carefully took a long strip of the black material and cut it to be the perfect length. he decided to tie the bow over your head, going up from your chin to the top of your head. and he giggled at the sight of you sitting there, as if you were a gift wrapped.

he took the roll of material again and cut some more strips off, deciding each part to tie it around carefully. he settled on three areas, around your neck as if it were a choker, over your head, letting the bow rest on top, and then finally, tying it horizontally around your head, maknig the bow rest right on your nose bridge.

“really? sho, i can’t even see,”

“you don’t need to see,” he reasons, going to grab the phone and turning the lens into 0.5, “so cute, i love it,” he takes a couple of photos for himself, probably to make his homescreen, before he opens the tiktok app.

he already had the sound recently saved so he didn’t waste time in filming you for a couple of seconds. he didn’t even bother checking if it looked good as he was too excited to also be wrapped in bows by you. he handed you an identical roll of material, but this time it’s color being pink.

so you, still keeping the bows he tied on you in tact, cut your own strips off it and laughed at how fun it was to tie decorate soul. you chose both of his wrists, making small bow-like bracelets, his exposed bicep, and then a matching one over his head, the bow on top of his head. he smiling the whole time, blushing even, and it’s so prominent on his pale features.

you pinch his cheek in a teasing way before focusing on filming him. he poses cutely, showing off all of his bows to the camera, then excitedly jumping up to watch when you are finished. he hugs you from behind, careful to not ruin his bows, and asks to film the ending clip.

you obliged, of course, and turn it into selfie mode and pose with him. he’s smiling at the camera with you, then in the last couple of seconds, just turns his head and attacks you with a series of kisses, pecking your cheek over and over again until the video’s time was up.

“shota, you’re so cute,” you coo, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and taking him into your side.

“you are too,” he murmurs, watching the video with a content look on his face. his idea went through perfectly and he loved the results, plus it let him just give you as much affection as he wanted, so he was happy.

“soul and his bows, i’m glad he’s now spreadin the bow agenda with the other piwon members”

“is no one gonna talk about how cute the placements of their bows are? i wonder if they picked them for each other or for themselves…”

“soulie is always kissing on [name] id want to say im surprised, but im not”

kim jongseob - not really a trend, but he just compiles a whole video of you two taking care of each other which absolutely blows up and goes viral because of how lovey dovey it is, ppl are now convinced you two are dating.

— it’s a myriad of different clips of you just taking care of seob, doing various things that show your care and affection for him.

— he makes sure to include snippets of how he returns the favor to you, but the video is mainly centered around you and your mannerisms.

— you don’t even know he’s gotten all this footage of you being #whipped until he posts it on tiktok

“seobie, you want another blanket?” he’s laying down on the couch, subtly pointing the phone to you as he’s looking up at your concerned face, “it’s so cold here, what the hell? who changed the thermostat? i thought jiung and i told you guys to leave it alone,”

“it wasn’t me,” he weakly defends himself, but you just shake your head.

“it’s never you, because you’re the only good one here,” you say, extra emphasis on the word good so that it reaches the ears of the others in the dorm. you lean down and ruffle his hair slightly, “i’ll be back with more blankets and then we can watch a movie?”

“mhm, sounds good,” you smile at his response, pulling away and going to fetch the blanket as you had promised.

another clip shows the point of view of his phone propped up elsewhere, capturing the both of you on camera in the studio. your seats are pulled close together and you’re gently rubbing up and down his back, focused on the screen in front of you.

“i think it’d sound better if we just move this bit of keeho’s adlib, over to the—” jongseob’s lowkey got you tuned out as he’s so focused on you and your concentrated expression, admiring how hard you are working as well as how good you look while you do. you catch him staring, smiling and then smooshing his face away with your palm. “focus, seobie, i need your feedback on the arrangement already,”

“yes, sorry,” his tone is dull and monotone, trying to mask his slight embarassment. he grabs the mouse from you, suddenly invested in the work you had just done. you fondly look at him, bumping your forehead against his shoulder before refocusing on the task at hand.

there were many clips like that in the video, melting p1ece’s hearts. but the last one was jongseob’s personal favorite. he had fallen asleep in your room, sleeping soundly by your side, which gave you the perfect opportunity to steal his phone. you filmed a 0.5 video of yourself, whispering quielty, “love you jongseobie, rest welll,” at the camera before focusing the phone at him.

you were so touched watching the video, smothering him for a week straight after he had posted it. that was the closest you’d ever see how much jongseob’s eyes adored you, but even then this video wasn’t even half of that amount of love.

“jongseob really does love him wow, this is so sentimental”

“getting fomo on their friendship fr”

→ “ you mean their relationship…this was basc jongseob shouting how much he loves [name]”

“gotta be my favorite piwon x [name] tiktok yet, there r ltr tears in my eyes”